#cw: emeto

[sickonthedancefloor]

sicktember: Day 14

Sicktember Prompt: Day 14 - Clean Sheets / Fresh Pajamas Sickie: Yunho Caregiver: Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Yeosang

“And… up,” Yeosang says softly, his hands holding Yunho by the elbows. While the older man is taller, he’s barely stronger than a child at his current state. Roasting with a fever that has been taking days to break, weak with chills and hoarse from a rough cough that’s been plaguing him for past week, Yunho’s been barely able to get out of bed on his own. After his fainting spell earlier, Yeosang had called in Seonghwa for reinforcements, deciding that Yunho’s “I’ll sleep it off” method wasn’t working anymore.

Yunho takes in a deep breath—or tries, and Yeosang can hear a whistle in his wheezing—and feels Wooyoung’s hands gripping his waist for extra support. He stares at his roommate with a sad look.

“You’re okay,” Yeosang encourages. “Come on. Slow steps to the bathroom.”

Yunho doesn’t reply verbally, but Yeosang catches the small nod as they begin to shift towards the bathroom. Yeosang moves backwards but doesn’t worry about hurting himself—they’re going too slow for bumping into a wall or a door to do anything. And with Yunho’s room as clean as it is, they’re not likely to run into anything but his dog-shaped bedside table. Yeosang just continues to encourage him until they make it into the bathroom, where Seonghwa pulls his hands from the water at the tub.

“It’s warm, not too warm but should be comfortable enough,” the oldest member says.

“Thank you,” Yunho grunts. His eyes blink heavily and he sways, but the hands grip his arms a little tighter. Yeosang is practically holding him forward. “I… I’m sorry.”

That has Wooyoung laughing. “Silly. Come on, let’s get you in the tub.”

They make quick work of ridding Yunho of his sweat-soaked pajamas and helping him into the tub, sitting him gently. He shivers, the water not as hot as he’d hoped, but warm enough that it doesn’t make him whine about the temperature. Wooyoung takes over getting the soap and a washcloth, and as Yunho leans on the side and rests his head, he takes over trying to scrub his sweat-salty skin clean. Yeosang and Seonghwa slip away into the bedroom and start cleaning what they can.

Seonghwa wastes no time in stripping the bed of the dirty sheets, recruiting Yeosang to remove the pillow cases. Yeosang grimaces at the wet marks on the pillow, feeling bad. “He’s been sweating so badly…” he mumbles.

“But his fever still keeps coming back,” Seonghwa sighs in response. “If he doesn’t feel even a little better tomorrow, I’m making our manager take him to the doctor.”

“He’s going to complain,” Yeosang answers. He laughs, but he really agrees with his hyung; Yunho hasn’t been getting better and it’s been days. Both of them frown, before scooping up the old bed linen and carrying it to the washing machine.

~*~

Yunho coughs roughly and grimaces when he bumps his chin on the tub. He whines at the sudden pain, and Wooyoung reaches over to rub his chin.

“Oh Yunho… you’re just having a rough night, aren’t you?” Wooyoung tries to comfort him, voice soft and soothing.

Yunho just groans in response, setting his face back down on the tub side, sideways this time. “Bad week. Worst Tuesday.”

“It’s… Thursday.”

That has Yunho lifting his head quickly, surprise taking over his face, but he ends up covering his mouth with one shaky hand as he lets out a few more painful coughs into his hand. Wooyoung rubs his back until he calms down, and when he looks at his hand, covered in sputum and phlegm, he frowns and just sticks his hand into the water to wash it off. Wooyoung pulls his hand over and runs the washcloth over it, before putting his hand back in the water. Sighing, Yunho sets his head back down.

“Oh Yun… You slept most of yesterday, didn’t you?”

“If that’s what we’re calling it,” Yunho grumbles. He could barely rest peacefully, between waking up to kick his blanket off, waking up to cover himself, the nonstop chills, his cough waking him up, and then his most recent nausea and dizziness… It’s been awful. He doesn’t feel like he’s slept in days, but according to Yeosang, he’s just been staying in bed and living off water and crackers.

Wooyoung scoops water from the tub and washes away suds from his back, then over his shoulder. “It’s okay. Let’s just finish the bath, then get you back to bed, with soup and medication this time.”

Yunho sighs. “This is so tiring.” His voice even sounds exhausted. Wooyoung’s sure, especially if he’s been so sick he’s losing track of time. Wooyoung just continues to pour water on his back, rubbing it gently. He can feel Yunho relaxing under his soothing, until Yunho almost falls asleep. His coughing startles him to sit up again, and Wooyoung decides they’ve spent enough time in the tub. He lets out the water from the tub, then uses the detachable showerhead to rinse any remaining soap from Yunho before he calls for Yeosang again.

“I can get up myself,” Yunho grumbles, holding onto the side of the tub.

Yeosang hurries in anyway, to catch Yunho looking awfully green trying to right himself onto his feet. The two help him step out, only for Yunho to pitch forward at the toilet. He yanks the lid up and immediately lets out a mouthful of pale, sludgy vomit. He can hear both of them murmuring soft encouragements, both members easing him to kneel onto the bathroom rug to just throw up again. While he catches his breath, he feels Wooyoung rubbing the towel over his skin, trying to dry him a little bit. He tries to lean forward, but Yeosang pulls him over to lay against his shoulder instead.

“Wasn’t this bad… yesterday,” he mumbles against Yeosang’s shoulder. “I wanted… wanted to get dressed myself.”

“Come on, do you think you’re done?” Wooyoung asks.

Yunho nods. Yeosang helps him up again, slowly this time, and they hand Yunho his own boxers, letting him have the dignity of getting himself dressed. Once he tugs his shirt on, they help him rinse his mouth out with mouthwash, then take him back into his room. Seonghwa’s seated on his computer desk chair, checking the dosage on one of the medication bottles in his hand. Yunho realizes, as the two help tuck him in, that they changed his sheets and had a fresh blanket tossed on top. They have to tug him forward to keep him from laying down right away, which has Seonghwa laughing as he rolls the chair over. Yunho doesn’t complain when he sips the cough syrup, taking relief in the water bottle handed to him afterward. And his eyes droop quickly. As Wooyoung helps Yunho lay down, Yeosang hands Pudeongie into his arms and Seonghwa tugs the blanket up to his shoulders. With a yawn, Yunho settles down easily.

[glittercarnage]

Vent doodles from earlier ft. Twitch

[softsnzstuff]

Take One Down, Pass It Around

Fandom: Stranger Things, (my Doctor Office AU)

Summary: Everyone gets sick. That’s it. That’s the fic…

Word Count: ~ 10k ~

CW: Mentions of v*mit only at the very very end

Thursday, October 13th

Robin chewed on the back of her pen while she scrolled on the computer. She was almost done verifying patients’ insurances for the next day and was prepping all of the charts.

There was a small gust of air as someone plopped into the seat next to her at her desk.

“Hey Birdie!”

It was Eddie. Every now and again he would come sit with her at her desk either to catch up or to vent about different things happening.

“What’s up, doc?” She imitated Bugs Bunny and laughed.

He leaned back in the chair, Metallica t-shirt peeking out from behind his white coat.

“Can I take a peek at tomorrows schedule?”

“Sure!” She set down the pen and pulled open a different tab on her computer, Eddie scooting closer to her to look over her shoulder.

She looked on as he skimmed the block schedule, seeing names and brief appointment notes that Robin had typed. The appointment boxes were color coded based on the type of appointment - injection, consult, check-up, pre-op.

Eddie noted the mostly orange schedule. “Geez, that’s a lot of consults.”

He was right. Robin had access to all the provider schedules - Eddie, Billy, and Nancy. For all three, at least half of the daily schedule was orange.

“It’s mostly patients who think they have the flu.” Robin noted.

Eddie nodded as he kept skimming notes for the next day, “Yeah, this flu season is already shaping up to be a brutal one it looks like. You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s a bit hectic sometimes but I can handle it.”

She appreciated his asking. After all, there were three providers and only one of her. Check in, check out, and scheduling was all her responsibility on top of sending out reminder calls and checking insurance.

“Well we all appreciate you!” Eddie smiled and squeezed her shoulder as he stood up to head back towards his office.

The bell above the door alerted her to the arrival of Mr.Jenkins, who was following up after a fall on his hip a few weeks ago.

“Hey Mr.Jenkins, how’s the hip?”

“Still sore but it’s been a lot better since Doctor Munson worked his magic.” The elderly gentleman explained.

“Well that’s great news!” Robin pulled his chart - the last one of the day, thank gosh - and scribbled some notes. “Any updates in contact information?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” The man chuckled.

“Okay then!” She smiled and stood up, “Insurance covers the follow up, so you have no financial responsibility. If you’ll have a seat, Steve will be out to get you in just a minute.”

The man nodded as he sat on one of the chairs, looking up at the tv, playing the cooking channel as always.

Robin found Steve in the back room. Both Steve and Nancy’s desks were there, as well as a sink and some cabinets. Steve was at the counter looking at a paper strip under the light.

“Whatcha doin?” She asked, making Steve jump.

“Jesus Buckley…I’m running the flu test for Mrs.Chavez. It’s definitely positive.” He half directed the response towards Nancy, who was the PA tending to her.

“Thanks Steve. I’ll send a script for Tamiflu.” She typed into her own computer.

“Last patient for Eddie. Mr.Jenkins, doing better after his treatment last time.”

Steve smiled. He and Robin were the most familiar with all the different patients since they saw everyone and not just a select few. As he looked at the notes on the chart, an exam room door closed, Billy walking out and thrusting a chart out at Robin.

“Here. Tell him to come back in three weeks for a follow up.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, as he was writing something down on a sticky note that he put on Steve’s monitor. “Add those notes to the digital chart, would ya? I’m heading out.”

The man pulled on a leather jacket and grabbed his backpack. “Be back tomorrow.” He mumbled.

After the back door had closed behind him, Robin called out, “You’re welcome!!”

*****

Friday, October 14th

“Gosh these lights really drain the color from this place huh?”

Robin directed the comment at the model skeleton in the back where Steve’s desk was. She was at the office bright and early with her box of cheap decorations.

To be quite honest, she should have decorated earlier, but it had just gotten so busy lately. She’d already put small pumpkins on everyone’s desk, orange and black streamers twirled together and hanging off the edges. She was so preoccupied she missed the ringing of the back door that would usually tell her Steve and Eddie had arrived.

She’d placed a cloak around the skeleton and perched a witches hat atop its head.

“That’s much better! What do you think?”

“I think it looks great.” Steve walked in from the hallway behind her.

“JESUS CHRIST!” She jumped, throwing a foam bat at him.

It bounced off his chest and he raised an eyebrow. “Who are you talking to??”

She bit her lip and looked away. “Skully…”

A laugh escaped his lips, “You’re talking to Skully??? The skeleton??”

“Shut up Harrington, he’s good company. Now are you gonna just stand there or are you going to help me?”

She gestured at the open box on his desk. He pulled out a couple reusable wall stickers of bats, ghosts, and Jack-o-lanterns, taking them to the waiting room and hanging them up. Robin tore open a box of pens with Halloween bobbles on them and put one on each person’s desk.

The disposable cups and plates in the staff room were replaced with Halloween printed ones, a bowl of candy being added in the staff room for them, as well as Robin’s desk for the patients.

Once the office was thoroughly decorated to her liking, she let Steve get to work at his desk while she logged into her own computer and turned the tv on to the cooking channel.

She made sure to pull up today’s schedule, the digital charts, and the list of reminder calls to make later that day before she unlocked the front door for the first patients. There were already four waiting outside.

Back at her desk, the first two approached - the Alvarados. Mrs.Alvarado scribbled both their names on the sign in sheet while Mr.Alvarado went to sit down.

“Good Morning, Robin.” She greeted.

“Hiya Mrs.Alvarado, how are you both doing?”

The woman shrugged while Robin pulled both of their charts. “Not doing too great, sweetie. We’ve been feeling sick for a week or so now.”

Robin added some notes to the chart. “I’m so sorry to hear that! Doctor E will hopefully take care of that for you.”

She offered a sympathetic smile to the woman who nodded before joining her husband on the plastic seats.

“I’ll be right with you, Mickey!” She smiled at the older man who was signing his name on the sign in sheet.

She scooped up the Alvarados’ charts and brought them to the back.

“Mr and Mrs.Alvarado, here for a flu consult for the both of them with Eddie.” She handed both charts to Steve who skimmed over the notes and typed into his computer.

“Thanks Robs, I’ll get them in a room right now.”

He got up and followed her to the front, Robin going to her desk to continue check ins, and Steve calling the Alvarados back to exam room 1.

Mr.Gilmore (“Mickey, please”) was one of Robin’s favorites. He was a very relaxed man in his late 60’s and was here to see PA Wheeler for a medication refill.

“Alright Mickey, you know the drill.”

“Steve will come get me in a little bit… speak of the devil.” Mickey waved to Steve who just left exam room 1.

“Hey Mickey! I’ll be out in just a second!” The brunette waved back, smiling, and continued his walk to Eddie’s office to let him know that his first patients were here.

The last one to check in was Mrs.Waters, here for Billy. She was a bit of a hard ass, but then again, so was he.

“Karen Waters to see Doctor Hargrove. I have an appointment.” She said blandly, looking at her fingernails.

Robin absolutely knew who she was, but the woman for some reason always felt the need to remind her in the rudest of tones.

“Hi Karen, how are you today?” Robin attempted.

“Not great, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” The woman snapped.

Robin held back a sigh, “Sorry about that. Looks like your copay today is going to be $35.”

“Really?? Last time it was only $30. This is absurd.”

Robin pulled up the patient data on her computer, “I can print you the invoice Mrs.Waters. It’s always been $35 for a consult with your insurance until you hit the deductible.”

The women groaned over dramatically, unbuttoning her wallet and slapping a credit card down on the counter, chewing her gum loudly in frustration.

Robin cautiously took the card, all too familiar with the behavioral issues of Billy’s patients. She typed some numbers into the card reader and then swiped the card, two small receipts printing. She tore them both off and handed them to Mrs.Waters who took them and started to walk away.

“Umm Mrs.Waters, you need to sign the top copy and give it back. The bottom copy is yours.”

The woman groaned and trudged back to the counter scribbling a sorry excuse for a signature on the top copy and pushing it back at Robin before she took her seat.

Robin got up with Mrs.Waters’ chart and rolled her eyes as she walked it back to Steve.

“Our favorite person on the planet is here for Billy.” She said sarcastically, tossing the chart on Steve’s desk, who read the name and sighed audibly.

The next hour was spent checking in the next patients, and signing out/scheduling follow ups for the early morning ones.

Mrs.Waters, always a spectacle, came out beaming and laughing with Billy.

“You’re too good, Doctor Hargrove, thank you.”

“Anytime. You take care of yourself.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

How two insufferable people could make each other smile was beyond her. Steve brought her Mrs.Waters’ chart with the note at the bottom to follow up in two weeks.

“Alright Karen, it looks like we’ll be doing a two week follow up for you?”

“That’s what the paper says isn’t it??” She snapped.

Jesus Christ it was going to be a long Friday…

---

Robin had always joked that her favorite religious passage was “Lunch 12:15”. Today, everyone had to agree.

Billy almost always ate in his office, his car, or in the opposite corner of the room. Eddie, Steve, Nancy and Robin usually sitting at the staff room table together.

“Did anyone else see Mrs.Waters sass me at check out!?” Robin complained.

“She told me I was taking her temperature wrong.” Steve mumbled under his breath, making Eddie snort.

“How do you possibly do it wrong?” Nancy asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Steve threw his hands up in the air, “I don’t know!! Ask Karen!! She said she read online that if she didn’t eat this morning she wouldn’t have a fever.”

Eddie knitted his eyebrows together, “She isn’t referring to….. she can’t be…”

“Feed a cold, starve a fever?” Nancy finished, “yeah, I think she is.”

They all laughed for a minute. Eddie setting down his bag of chips and rubbing the back of his neck. “Gosh I must’ve seen four flu patients just this morning already.”

“I had two.” Nancy added, holding up her hand.

“Billy had at least one on the schedule. Plus two walk ins.” Robin mumbled, poking at her pasta with a fork and taking a bite.

“Running all these flu tests is so repetitive, I think I could do it with my eyes closed.” Steve whined.

“Methinks I smell a challenge…” Eddie grinned.

“No. I’m not doing that.” Steve playfully punched Eddie in the shoulder, the older man leaning in to kiss him. The two had finally admitted to mutual feelings last year and they’d moved in together just a few months ago.

“You’ll have lots more chances to practice Steve,” Robin said, “there’s still like five more on the books for this afternoon.”

They all groaned, Steve looking at his watch, “And there’s only five more minutes of lunch.”

Those, Robin thought, had to be the worst 6 words in the history of man. He was right though, it was almost 1pm. Robin zipped up her lunch bag and tossed it back in the fridge, going to the front to unlock the door again for the afternoon patients.

For the most part, the afternoon was fairly routine. There was a pretty even amount of follow ups and regular consults versus the large influx of flu consults.

Towards the end of the day, one of the nicer patients came in. He was one of their younger patients, around 25 in age.

“Hey Josh!” Robin said. “What can I do for you?”

The man was usually energetic, but Robin could tell from his demeanor that he seemed drained of energy.

“Hey Robin,” he sniffled into a tissue, “Does Doctor Munson have any openings this afternoon? I feel like shit.”

Robin glanced at the clock and then turned back to the man, “let me go check.”

She got up from her seat and headed towards the back room where Eddie was facing Steve’s desk filling him in on the follow up care for the last patient.

Robin rested a hand on Eddie’s back, “Hey Eddie, you have time for one more really quick flu consult? It’s Josh Cummings. He’s in the waiting room right now.”

Eddie sucked in a small breath through his teeth, “mmm for Josh? Yeah go ahead. He’ll be my last one for the day. Cool with you Steve?”

The two of them had planned a Friday date night with a movie and takeout.

“Yeah go ahead, send him back. I’ll take his vitals and test him now.”

Robin nodded a and went up front, “Hey Josh, they said you can come on back.”

“Thank you!” He said, opening the door and following Robin to a room. “Steve will be in shortly.”

Nancy and Billy were wrapping up their last patients, dropping off charts with Robin before they left for the day. Eddie stayed at his desk while Steve stepped into the exam room and closed the door.

“Hey Josh, good to see you man!”

“Hi Steve. Wish it was under better circumstances. I feel so awful.”

Steve was running vitals as he caught up briefly with the boy.

“That’s what Robin said! I’m gonna do a rapid flu test alright?”

Josh nodded as steve snapped on some gloves and tore open the packaging.

“I’m going to swab the back of your nose and then test results should come in about ten minutes. Can you find your head back just a little for me?” Steve took a step closer.

Steve rested a gentle hand under Josh’s chin as he used the other hand to slowly insert the long swab into his nose and swirl it around.

Josh coughed slightly at the touch, his nostrils twitching.”

“I know, it’s uncomfortable I'm sorry. One more.”

“Steve-”

Steve pulled out the swab and inserted it into the other nostril. “Just a little longer buddy…”

“M’gonna- H’iKtch’EW!” Josh sneezed openly, unable to cover with such little warning.

Steve reflexively pulled the swab out, feeling a small mist land on his cheek. He didn’t want Josh to be embarrassed so he just put the swab into the test tube and handed him a box of tissues.

“Excuse me!”

“Here you go, man. I’m gonna go run this and I’ll have your results ASAP.”

Steve pulled off his gloves and washed his hands. As the test results were cooking, he went to the bathroom to rinse his face and wash his hands again.

When he came back to find Josh’s positive flu result staring him in the face, though, he felt the damage had already been done.

He closed his eyes and sighed, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Taking a deep breath, he went to give Josh his results.

*****

Monday, October 17th

When Robin pulled into the parking lot on Monday, she was shocked to see Eddie’s car already there. She was always the first one at the office.

She walked in the back door, looking for either of the boys.

“ih’AYESSSH! ISSSH’iew!”

She heard Steve before she saw him, his loud sneezes echoing through the hallway leading to his desk in the back room.

He was hunched over his desk, blowing his nose.

“Alright there Stevie?” She asked, backpack hanging off one shoulder. “Why are you here so early??”

“Oh hey. snFF yeah I’m okay.” He cleared his throat, Robin not missing the way he winced afterwards, “Eddie wanted to come early. snfSNFF said something about the patients? I dunno.”

“Where is he?”

“Up front I think.” Steve cleared his throat again, Robin approaching her desk with caution.

She found Eddie opening some sort of packaging at her desk.

“Oh hey Robs!” He greeted, “I bought this forehead scanning thermometer. Thought if you don’t mind you could just scan the patients and write the temp on the top of their charts? Might speed things up a bit since we have so many walk ins.”

She chuckled as he waved the device around, pretending to use it as a laser gun, complete with “pew pew” sound effects.

“You’re such a dork.” She took the device from him and set it to the side. “I can do that.”

The back door bell rang twice in succession, Nancy calling out, “Good morning everyone!”

“Morning Nance.” Came as a reply from everyone.

Billy walked in behind her.

Steve but the bullet first, “Morning Billy, h’ekt’CHEW! ISSSH’iew!!”

“Gross! Are you sick Harrington?”

“I’m … it’s just a little… ”

“Whatever, I don’t care, just don’t get your germs on me, kapeesh?”

“Yup. Understood. Sorry.” Steve stared at his feet, Nancy walking over and rubbing a hand on his back.

“He’s just in a bad mood this morning.”

“He’s in a bad mood every morning.” Robin noted.

Eddie shook his head and went up behind Steve, rubbing his shoulders. “Bless you babe.” He kissed the top of Steve’s head and then made his way to his office.

---

“Hey Robin can you do me a favor?” Steve approached her desk with a puzzled look on his face.

“Probably, what is it?”

“Could you just tell me if the labs sent anything for Debbie Reynolds? She can’t remember if she did them or not.”

Robin rolled her eyes laughing, “Mrs.Reynolds can never remember if she did them or not.”

“You’re telling me… H’ITSSSSCHhh!”

“Bless you.” She raised an eyebrow at him but he seemed to ignore her.

He rubbed at his nose, “thanks.”

She turned her chair back to the computer, moving to the digital chart tab and typing in Mrs.Reynolds’ birthday. “Mmmmm yeah looks like she got them done last month. Want me to print them?”

“Please?”

She tapped a few more keys and the bug printer by her desk fired up, two sheets coming out. She pulled them hot off the presses and stapled them before handing it to Steve.

“Thanks Robs!”

An hour or two later, Robin was walking down the hallway when Steve emerged from the bathroom, nose red and streaming. He had some toilet paper pressed against it.

“Whoa are you good?”

He sniffed wetly, “Yeah, just uh. Had to snhhh sneeze so I HAESSSSH! snFF went to the bathroom cuz Billy keeps telling me I’m ISSSHIEW! …gross.”

“You’re not gross, you’re just sick.”

“Heh’KSSHhhh!” He muffled the wet sneeze into his arm.

“Okay that was a little bit gross.” She joked, playfully punching his arm.

“Harrington!” Billy yelled from his office.

“Yeah Billy?”

“Why aren’t there charts on my desk??!”

“Because! I’m … doing something..” his voice turned into a grumble as he shook his head at Robin. He turned on his heels to bring Billy his next chart. Robin felt bad for him.

---

Over time, everyone had developed their own ways of dealing with Billy’s spontaneous irritable moods. Eddie would doodle slightly offensive portraits of him and slip them to Steve, Nancy, or Robin. The girls usually would have a girls’ night where they almost exclusively shit talk him, and Steve would just rant or do impressions of him to Robin.

By the afternoon, Steve was frustrated. He dropped off a chart with Robin and rolled his eyes so far back in his head that she thought they might fall out.

“What did he do now?” She asked in a hushed voice.

Steve shifted his posture and put on his best Billy voice. “Do this now! That’s not right. Where’d you learn this crap? Night school???”

Robin laughed, “Oh my god! Night school? What does that even mean??”

“Hell if I know…” Steve turned to cough into his elbow.

“Seriously Steve, are you okay?”

“I’m just. I’m a little bit sick... It’s nothing.” He huffed a sigh and leaned up against her desk.

“Hmm,” she hummed in disbelief. “I’m bringing you soup later, okay?”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smile. “Thanks Robin.”

---

Usually any post-work shenanigans were planned out in advance, but when life gives you lemons - or in this case makes your best friend sick -, Robin shows up on their doorstep with soup.

“Hey Robs!” Eddie greeted her at the door and gave her a hug. “Come on in.”

Robin made her way to their kitchen, setting the small pot on the stove. She’d been to the apartment a handful of times, since they’d moved in together and was familiar with the layout.

“Where’s Steve?” She asked.

“He’s just taking a shower. He’ll be out soon. Go ahead make yourself comfortable.”

Eddie was out of his doctor gear and wearing grey sweatpants and a black tee. Robin leaned against their kitchen island as he turned on the stove to reheat the soup. “You want anything to drink, Birdie?”

Robins eyes got wide with excitement. “I mean if you’re offering… can you make me one of your famous mojitos? It’s been a day.”

Eddie laughed. “Absolutely.”

He’d been a bar tender on the side to help pay for med school back in the day, and by now, word had gotten around thanks to Steve.

The sound of a door opening came from down the hallway, followed by padded footsteps.

“AESSSH! TISSSH!”

Steve sneezed down into the collar of his shirt and stepped into the kitchen, hair damp. He was sporting pajama pants and a crewneck, looking a little worse for wear.

“Hey sick boy.”

“Hey Robin. Thanks for bringing me soup.”

He walked over to her and she wrapped an arm around his waist. “You act as if I haven’t been bringing you soup since middle school, ya dummy.”

She nudged him, smiling. Eddie turned around from where he was spooning soup into some bowls.

“Oh my god PLEASE tell me about Steve in Middle School!!”

A wicked grin spread across Robin’s face, “Well for starters he-”

The rest of the sentence was muffled as Steve had his arms wrapped around her mouth from behind. “No no no! We’re not doing this today!”

He let go when Robin started laughing. Eddie had set out bowls for them at the table. “Alright dinner is served. And for Miss Robin, a mojito.”

Eddie knelt down, offering her the mojito glass as if he were a knight offering Excalibur to King Arthur.

“Thank you good sir.” She responded in a fake British accent.

“M’lady.” He replied back.

Steve watched the display with eyebrows raised. “You know Robin, I had always hoped you’d get along with my future boyfriend, but you and Eddie together is way more chaotic than expected.”

Eddie grinned. “That’s exactly what we were going for, eh Robs?”

They fist bumped each other and laughed.

“Can we just eat the soup already? You’re making me feel worse.”

*****

Tuesday, October 18

Chrissy had just parked in the lot of Hawkins Medical. She tilted her head down slightly, checking her reflection in the rear view mirror as she tightened her high ponytail.

Her lavender scrubs complimented her well as she stepped out of her car and grabbed her things. She made her way through the back door, bell ringing above her. She placed an iced tea in the staff room fridge and turned around to be face to face with Robin, who had emerged from getting her desk set up.

“Do my eyes deceive me??? CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM IN MY OFFICE!!!”

Robin screeched and have Chrissy a hug, both girls jumping in excitement that they get to work together again.

“They sent me over here for a few days since we heard Steve isn’t feeling well. Thought you could use some backup?”

“Thank the lord for management and Steve’s shit immune system!”

“I heard that!” Came a stuffy call from the back room.

The girls walked towards the voice together. Steve was sat at his desk, scrubs looking a little frumpier than usual.

“Heh’IKTSCH!! TSSCH’IEW!”

“Bless you!” Chrissy offered.

“You look awful.” Robin took in his appearance.

“You flatter me, Buckley.” His voice was scratchy and he just sounded sick.

“Can’t you go home?” The blonde asked.

Steve had a tissue pressed against his nose as he shook his head. “We have so many patients. It’s gonna take all of us and then suhh some H’itssch! Isssh! Tisssh!”

“Bless you again!”

“He’s definitely on his sneeziest day.” Eddie mumbled as he sauntered in, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eyes. “Kept me up all night and then some...”

Steve felt his ears go red, “Said I was sorry…”

“I know baby, it’s not your fault.”

“Well, I’ve got the motivational cough drops at my desk for anyone who needs them.” Robin crossed her arms and pointed to her desk with her head.

“What do you mean motivational?” Chrissy asked.

“Oh the wrapper has messages on it. You know, ‘keep your head up’, ‘you got this’, crap like that.”

Chrissy nodded and set her stuff down in between Steve and Nancy’s desk, asking where she could help. Robin went back to her own area to start making the morning’s reminder phone calls.

She pulled up the list of names and punched in the phone number she’d left off on before Chrissy showed up.

The phone rang four times before it sent her to voicemail.

“Good morning! This is Robin from Hawkins Medical calling for Mrs.Zamora. I just wanted to-”

“ISSSH”

“Just wanted to remind you of your appointment on Thursday a-”

“TISSSSH’iew”

“Thursday at 11:30am. If you can’t make it, please let us know at least 24 hours in advance-”

“H’AESSSSH’ew!”

“Thank you, have a nice day.”

She dropped the phone back into place and went over to Steve’s desk where he was blowing his nose helplessly into another tissue.

“Do you mind?” There was no heat behind the question.

“Sorry Robs.”

“It’s all good Steve, Mrs.Zamora will just have a lovely voicemail of you sneezing your head off.”

She ruffled his hair and walked back to her desk, Chrissy and Nancy giggling quietly to themselves.

Steve turned to them with sarcasm, “Yes, ha ha, very funny isn’t it?”

“It really is,” Chrissy smiled.

---

The morning seemed to both drag on and move quickly. Patients were in and out in record time, but the clinic itself was slammed.

Eddie flopped into the second swivel chair by Robin, using his heels to kick himself closer to her.

“What’s up doc?” She asked over her shoulder as she typed follow up appointment notes into the schedule for her outpatient.

He leaned back and stretched, again rubbing at his eyes. “Ugh, I’m just so tired and it’s only Tuesday!”

“You’re telling me!” She handed the appointment card she was scribbling on to Mr.Whitmore and turned back to Eddie, “Anything interesting happen yet?”

Sometimes Eddie would bring her funny stories after the patients had left or when the waiting room was empty.

“You know Brenda?”

“Brenda Yates? Yeah.”

“Steve told me she’s been heckling him all morning about blowing his nose and going home to rest and drinking juice with vitamin C.” Eddie laughed.

“Ha! She’s not wrong though is she?” Robin asked.

“She’s absolutely correct! But Steve hates being fussed over so he just had to bite his tongue until she checked out.”

“I was wondering why she told me to keep an eye on him… I thought she meant like spying.”

Eddie laughed even harder at that. Despite their enjoyment of poking fun at Steve, they couldn’t disagree that he needed to rest.

All morning, Steve was back and forth between charts, exam rooms, and the bathroom to blow his nose. He really wanted to just stop and lie down, but some of the patients rolling through were a lot sicker than he was. on top of that, Billy was still giving him hell for getting sick in the first place.

“Jesus, Harrington. Medical isn’t a field for the weak. If you can’t keep it together, it screws shit up for everyone else.”

“Sorry Billy” was all he could muster.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Everyone’s patience was running thin. As Steve sat at the table, leaning a heavy head against Eddie’s shoulder, he noticed Nancy staring at the older man.

“Are you not hungry Eddie?” The man in question was sort of picking apart his pasta salad. He looked up after Steve had judged him, unaware he was being spoken to.

“Oh sorry… um not really, no.”

What Eddie didn’t want to say openly was that swallowing really hurt his throat and that talking added to his headache.

“You’re not getting sick too are you?”

His reply was gruff and quick, “I don’t get sick.”

Robin snorted. “Oh yeah sure, just like how you didn’t get sick when we took that boat out last summer. Or how you didn’t get sick earlier this year…”

“That was allergies!”

“Steve can’t catch allergies off you, Eddie.”

Robin exchanged a skeptical glance with Nancy and Chrissy. He knew she was right, but he hated admitting to weakness in front of anyone, let alone his colleagues in this profession.

“I’m fine okay, just drop it!”

The snappy reply caught her off guard, even Nancy and Chrissy going silent. Robin went back to her lunch, mumbling under her breath.

“Okay! Geez! Doctors don’t get sick, I get it.”

---

The bass line of the song pounded lightly in the background of the restaurant the girls were sitting at.

“How is it,” Nancy took a sip of her wine, “That Billy is always the last one to show up and the first one to leave??”

“THANK YOU!” Robin said a little too loudly, setting down her peach mojito. “I simply don’t understand, I mean you and Eddie are clocking overtime every week!”

“I wonder why they don’t just let him go.” Chrissy stirred her dirty shirley and popped a pretzel in her mouth.

Nancy made a noise, “Well I mean we have to admit, he’s good at his job. Billy definitely knows what he’s doing…”

“He’s just a dick.” Robin added.

Chrissy choked on her drink, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

“I’m sorry but he is a dick! And all his patients are equally as rude as he is arrogant!”

Nancy laughed. Every now and then, they would all get together for drinks and gossip. Seeing as Eddie was at home looking after Steve, it was a well overdue girls’ night.

“Maybe it’s just a doctor thing?” Chrissy joked.

“Eddie isn’t like that though.” Nancy said.

“No definitely not,” Chrissy agreed, “But he certainly thinks he’s above illness.”

“Yeah what was up with that?” Robin asked.

“I dunno, we just want to help.” The blonde shrugged, sipping her drink and shifted to a sarcastic tone, “But I guess doctors can’t get sick or show weakness at all ever right? Must be like…Doctor law or something.”

“He’ll give in sooner or later.” Robin downed the rest of her mojito as the waiter arrived with their food.

“Oh,” Nancy said, “I’m sure of it.”

*****

Wednesday, October 19

The next morning, Robin was in the staff break room rummaging through the cabinets. She knew they kept a communal bottle of Tylenol somewhere in here.

She finally found one - second drawer from the left. Tapping two pills into her hand, she knocked them back and stood at the sink using her hand to sip some water to wash them down.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she caught a glimpse of herself in the microwave. She knew she looked run down. Her hair was messier than usual, she was pale and wearing sunglasses to both hide the rings under her eyes and to stop the headache that had been bothering her since last night.

Chrissy walked in, jumping slightly at her friend’s appearance and demeanor.

“Oh my gosh Robin, we didn’t drink that much last night!”

The girl in question turned around and took off the sunglasses. “M’not hungover.” She managed a small laugh, “My head is killing me though.”

“Well that’s not good! Did you-”

“Take Tylenol? Yeah. Just downed two.”

The bell on the back door rang, Steve trailing in slowly.

“HAESSSSSH! ISSSH! TSCHIEW! M’borni’g.” His consonants were rounded, voice thick with congestion.

“Morning…” Robin groaned.

Steve stopped in his tracks. “Aw Robs… n’dot you too.”

He had switched out his contacts for glasses today - a sure fire sign that he still wasn’t feeling well.

“Yes, me too. This is what I get for being nice and bringing you soup.” She half teased, pouting as Steve came over to give her a hug.

“I’b sorry.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

The brunette looked over his shoulder towards the back door, “He’ll be in soon, he’s in the car blowing his nose.”

Robin held up a hand as if to stop him, “But he’s not sick.” She said sarcastically.

Steve joined the joke, “No, definitely not.”

Just then, the bell above the back door chimed, the man himself walking in, scrubbing at his nose.

“Morning Ed-” Chrissy started.

Eddie turned to the side, collar of his doctors’ coat pulled over his face.

“Hih’NxxT! NxxxT! Ngtsch!! snlrff Morning…”

“Bless you.” The blonde offered softly.

Robin stared at him and then turned back to Chrissy and Steve, “Looks like I’m not the only one who feels like they got hit by a bus…”

Steve waited until Eddie had disappeared to his office, “Yeah, he wo’t admit it but he really isn’t feeli’g well today.”

“I can tell.” Chrissy frowned, concerned at the state of her friends.

Robin rubbed at her temples and glanced at the clock, “Ughhh… I gotta go open the front.”

She trudged off to unlock the door and turn on the tv, every small sound adding to her pounding headache.

In walked one Mrs.Holloway, an elderly woman whom everyone adored.

“Hello darling.” She greeted as she signed in on the sheet.

“Hi Mrs.Holloway!” Robin tried to be as faux energetic as she could. She grabbed the thermometer gun and held it up to the woman, “Just have to scan ya real quick! How are you?”

“Just peachy! Doctor Munson is going to make sure I’m A-OK for my operation next month!”

“Aw, lovely! I’m sure you’ll pass his tests with flying colors.” Robin smiled, scribbling the temperature reading on the top of the chart.

“I sure hope so, dear. Do I owe you anything for today?”

Robin looked at the chart and her insurance notes from yesterday, “Nope! Looks like your insurance covered everything today. Steve will be right with you.”

The woman smiled and went to sit down as Robin pushed herself up from her desk. When she brought back the chart, Nancy and Billy had arrived as well.

“Oooh, you don’t look good.” Nancy noted.

“Don’t feel good…” Robin mumbled back.

Billy scowled, “You and Harrington are sick?”

“And Eddie.” Robin said, holding a finger up.

“I’m not -” Eddie quickly brought a hand up, pinching his nose closed, “Nxxxt! HixxxT! Ixtsch’EW!! - n’dot sick!”

He sniffled soupily, wiping his hand on his pants. Billy watched the display in disgust.

“Very convincing argument, Munson. I hope you guys feel better soon-”

Robin almost thought Billy was going to say something nice, but then he kept talking.

“-because that’s was fucking disgusting.”

“Hey, behave Billy. He’s sick.” Nancy scolded.

“I’m not -! Never mind…” Eddie mumbled.

“Sick or not, your first patient is here.” Robin held up the chart and put it on Steve’s desk before retreating to her space.

Steve took the chart and smiled, he loved Mrs.Holloway as much as the next person. She was here checking a couple small things before Eddie could approve her for a surgery she was scheduled to get in the month to come.

Steve had opted for wearing a mask when he took her back, taking her vitals and setting her up in a room. He placed her chart in the hanging pouch on the door and flicked one of the plastic flags to let Eddie know she was ready for him.

---

Eddie had skimmed over the notes on Mrs.Holloway’s digital chart before he stood up to head into her exam room.

Steve came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I know you’re not sick, but she’s pre-op and old. Maybe wear this?”

He was holding up a disposable mask, which Eddie took, looping it around his ears. “Thanks Stevie.”

The younger man nodded, and headed back to his desk, Eddie flicking a different flag outside exam room 1 and knocking gently before entering.

Eddie hated admitting to illness in front of his colleagues and friends, but behind closed doors with patients, he was okay being vulnerable. It showed them that he was human too and that they shouldn’t be scared.

“Hi Mrs.Holloway!” He sang, then gesturing to the mask, “I’m a little sick this week, I hope you don’t mind…”

The woman was sitting on the exam bed, “Oh heavens no, sweetheart. It happens to the best of us.”

Eddie smiled under his mask, opening her chart and pulling out some papers. He hopped up onto the counter to sit opposite her, something he liked to do with his more casual patients.

“So - snf - your tests look great! Steve did the EKG last week and it snFF came back totally normal. You passed the stress test with flying colors!” He raised up his left hand and moved it from right to left, for effect.

The woman smiled, pleased with the positive news.

“Your labs were also good.” Eddie started to feel a tickle building in his sinuses. Not now. “Your cholesterol was snff a little bit high again, but it is within range snfSNFF so I’m not too concerned…”

Even with the mask, he turned to the side, bringing his elbow up to shield himself.

“Heh’iNgxxT! NxxT! … H’iKSHh’IEW!”

“Bless you sweetie!”

The last sneeze had been more productive than he’d expected, and he could feel the mess trailing down his top lip under the mask.

He held a hand to his chest, “Excuse mbe! Umm as I was sayi’g before, everythi’g looks great. Unless you have any concer’ds, Steve will take a uri’de sambple and you’re free to go.”

Thankfully, she had no concerns at the moment. Eddie let her know that Steve would be in to walk her to the patient restroom shortly.

She thanked him and he left as casually as he could, but as soon as the door closed behind him he beelined for the staff restroom. His nose was still tingling and he felt disgusting.

Once he was in the bathroom, he unlooped one ear and removed his mask, two tendrils of mess connecting it still to his face.

He crumpled the mask and threw it away, reaching for toilet paper as the prickling intensified. He pressed the paper to his nose as he exploded with relief.

“Hi’TSSCHew! Hhh - eh’KSSH iKSSH!… Heh’iKSHh’IEW”

He paused for a moment, waiting to see if any more sneezes would come. When they didn’t, he sat on the closed toilet seat and pulled more toilet paper.

He folded it around his nose and blew softly, grimacing at how much mucus he produced anyways. Throwing away that one, he grabbed some more tissue and blew again.

Once he was sure his head was empty for the time being, he got up and washed his hands, unhappy with how red and chapped his nose already was.

This was going to be a really long day.

---

The rest of the morning was slow luckily. Robin leaned her head back into the file cubbies, closing her eyes in hope that it would relieve her headache.

“snlrff Hey Birdie.”

She lifted her head and cracked open one eye. Eddie was standing above her, rubbing his nose. He pulled up a chair next to her and straddled it.

“Hey Doc.” Her energy was sapped and he could tell.

“Sorry Steve got you sick.” He folded his arms atop the back of the chair and rested his head on them.

“I could say the same to you.” She joked.

“I-”

“Oh sorry sorry I forgot doctors don’t get sick.” She quickly backtracked, grinning slightly.

“No, I was just gonna say. snf you were right. This is…awful.”

He quickly turned to the side, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

“H’iKSHh’iew! ih’KSSH, ksssh! Snrdff H’eksssh’IEW!”

“Bless you! Geez…”

When his arm lingered in front of his face, Robin quickly grabbed the tissue box at her desk and held it out to him. He took a few and turned away to clean himself up, gurgling into the tissue before folding it over and blowing again. She noticed a slight sheen on his forehead when he went to grab a fresh tissue.

Beep.

“What the hell?” He looked up to see Robin holding the thermometer gun to his head.

“101° Doc, no wonder you’re sweating.” She held the thermometer as if it were a smoking gun and fake blew on it.

“Hey, gimme that.” He swiped it and turned it on her. Scanning her forehead as well.

Beep.

“100.2.” He whistled, smiling at her, indulging in this little joke of hers.

“Oh yeah, very mature, Doctor Rockstar…”

“AESSSSSH!! ISSSSH! TISSH! SNF What are you guys doing??” Steve asked, fixing his glasses. He had walked up as they were fighting over the thermometer gun.

Eddie and Robin both laughed. “Being chaotic again I guess.” He said as he stood up.

The long haired man grabbed a cough drop from the bowl on Robin’s desk. “I’m taking one of these.”

As Eddie went back to his office, Steve approached Robin with an outpatient chart. “Got him to admit it?”

“Yep! Turns out all it takes to get him to admit it is a thermometer gun and a few messy sneezes.”

Despite both of them being drained of energy, the two best friends high-fived before returning to their respective jobs.

*****

Thursday, October 20

Eddie woke up early, his shirt damp with sweat. He felt worse today - aches, chills, headache, the whole nine yards.

He started getting dressed for the day, swapping out his usual doctors coat for a long sleeve waffle knit shirt and scrubs.

“H’igkt’CHEW! Issh’EW! Tsch’IEW!”

“Bless you.” Steve emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his own scrubs.

“Than’gks. SNF.”

He watched as a shiver wracked Eddie’s body. The younger man approached and placed the back of his hand to Eddie’s forehead.

“You should call out today.”

“Mbe? What about you??”

“I feel a little better today.” Steve shrugged, “You on the other hand… you’re rocking that high fever, babe.”

Eddie held up the rock n roll hand.

“That’s,” Steve sighed, “that’s not what I meant.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some Tylenol or something.” He stood up, pulling on his scrub pants and grabbing a jacket.

“You sure?”

“If anythi’g changes I’ll let you know. Promise.”

---

Thursday mornings were usually reserved for ten-minute staff meetings in the back room. They all arrived at the same time of 7:15 or earlier, and the clinic wouldn’t open until about 7:30.

When Eddie and Steve arrived, it was a sorry state to behold. Chrissy was sat at her spot between Nancy and Steve’s desk, with her head resting in her arms. Nancy was coughing into a tissue, and Robin was laying across Steve’s desk with her eyes closed.

“Jesus H Christ, what happened to all of you?”

Robin sat up, opening her eyes again, “Steve.”

Eddie turned to the man in question, who had blushed and suddenly looked very guilty.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Lunch is on me tomorrow. I’ll order everyone soup.”

“Why don’t we just make it a sick person’s potluck?” Eddie asked, coughing into his shoulder.

“I can pick up teas for everyone tomorrow morning.” Chrissy offered, “My throat is killing me so I was going to go anyways.”

“My cough drops are still up for grabs too.” Robin noted, Nancy perking up a little.

“Sounds like a plan then.” Nancy smiled, “Are we all sick?”

“Everyone except Billy…” Robin rolled her eyes.

The bell in the back rang.

“Speak of the devil.” Eddie mumbled.

When he walked in, everyone stared. He was late for the meeting as usual.

“What??” He snapped.

“Nothing, just. Nice of you to join us.” Nancy bit the bullet.

“On a scale of one to ten - one being the worst and ten being great - how does everyone feel today?” Eddie asked.

There was a pause while everyone seemed to think about it.

Steve held up a 7, Nancy a 5, Chrissy a 4 and Robin a 3. Billy, rolling his eyes, held up a 10 to match Eddie’s 3.

Billy glanced at the numbers everyone else was holding up. “Seriously?? What do I always tell you Harrington?”

Steve didn’t like being roped into Billy’s shit belief system, but responded anyways. “You always say that this line of work isn’t for the weak.”

“Exactly!” Billy scoffed.

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Maybe if we do a rotational so everyone gets one break to nap or relax today. Nance and I can cover for one another. Steve and Chrissy. Birdie, I know there’s only one of you but I’m certain Stevie can hold down the fort for half an hour.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“This is so stupid.” Billy grumbled as he walked off to his office.

---

For the most part, nap rotations went well. Almost everyone had gotten their 30-minute rest break in. Currently, Eddie was in his office on his break, resting in the couch.

Steve had come to tell Eddie they needed him back, but stopped when he realized Eddie was sweating again, bangs sticking slightly to his forehead.

The younger man approached and knelt down, resting a hand against his cheek. He felt warmer than this morning.

Without rousing Eddie, Steve stopped by Robin’s desk.

“Hey Robs, can I borrow that thermometer gun really quickly? I think Eddie’s taking a turn for the worse.”

“Yeah sure.” She handed the device over to Steve who made his way back to his partner’s office.

He held the device close to Eddie’s head and pressed the button. Beep. The little screen on the back lit up, a big 102° staring him in the face.

“Shit Eddie, wake up.” Steve started to gently shake him awake.

His eyes fluttered open, bright with fever. “Nap time over?” He asked.

“It was, but Eddie you have a crazy high fever. You gotta take something for that.”

Steve started opening Eddie’s desk drawers. He knew the man kept a personal stash of Tylenol in here.

“You’re asking me to do drugs?” Eddie attempted a joke. He held his hand out, palm-up, as Steve handed him two pills. “I’ll try anything at this point. I feel like garbage.”

“Geez Eddie. I have one more thing we can do that’ll hopefully get you through the next couple hours.”

Eddie nodded and leaned back against the couch again, closing his eyes. When Steve came back he had some supplies with him.

He rolled up Eddie’s long sleeve and snapped on some gloves. Opening an alcohol pad, he carefully cleaned the inner crook of Eddie’s left arm. He used a rubber strap to tie off above the elbow and waited for the vein to emerge.

“Don’t move.” He mumbled, starting an IV line for Eddie.

Once it was taped and the needle was out, Steve hung a banana bag on a mobile IV pole that they kept in storage.

“Got me the good stuff, did you?” Eddie stared vacantly as the bag dripped slowly.

“It’ll help you feel a little better. Give it a few minutes. I’ll let Nancy know. Maybe she can take your next patient.”

Steve threw away his gloves and went to go wash his hands. Eddie lay there, arm extended as the bag worked it’s magic. He must’ve fallen asleep again because he was next being woken up by the beeping of that damn thermometer gun.

“Steve? What time ‘sit.”

“It’s been an hour or so. Nancy took care of the last two patients. She said you needed to rest.”

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “Christ Stevie, you were supposed to wake me up so I could finish work.”

“It’s okay, you can take over now if you want. Nancy can take her break. It’s working though!” He flipped the thermometer gun around so he could see it.

Eddie squinted, trying to make out the numbers past his foggy head. “100.9°”

“Not great, but a lot better.” Steve offered a smile, happy that Eddie seemed to be feeling a little better after.

“Ughh, can you take this outta me Steve?” He gestures to the IV line.

Steve nodded, helping his boyfriend so they could finish up their shift.

*****

Friday, October 21

Chrissy waited at the pick-up counter of the local coffee shop. She’d ordered five hot teas with honey and lemon for everyone at the clinic.

“For Chrissy?” The barista called out.

Chrissy stepped forward, “Thank you so much!”

She picked up the drink tray that carefully balanced all five paper cups and coughed into her shoulder. She balanced the tray on the top of her car as she unlocked it and got the passenger seat ready.

Once she’d strapped the drinks in for the short five minute drive, she started the car and left for the clinic.

She was the last to arrive, but was still on time. Billy was tired of their antics and holed himself in his office, pricklier than normal.

She entered the staff break room and laughed. She gently set the tray down on the table that was host to Robin’s candy bowl of cough drops.

“Morning everyone! Tea is here!”

“Thanks Chrissy!”

They all grabbed a cup, Steve grabbing one for Eddie as well. Nancy especially, sipped greedily for relief.

Eddie was at the counter messing with something, he swiveled around holding up a hefty disposable plate like it was a serving tray. On it, he balanced five small paper cups that came from the water cooler.

“Who’s ready for shots?” He asked, jokingly. “It’s DayQuil - doctor’s orders.”

Robin was feeling much better than the last few days and swiped a small cup, handing one to Steve. Nancy and Chrissy both set down their teas and traded it for a little shot of DayQuil.

When there was only one cup left on the “tray”, Eddie set the plate down and took it.

“Alright, bottoms up.”

They all exchanged a glance and knocked back their respective shots of DayQuil, reaching for the tea to wash it down.

“This stuff always tastes awful.” Robin shuddered.

Eddie laughed, reaching out to fist bump her, “Let’s kick some ass today, yeah?”

Robin stood tall and jokingly saluted Eddie, making her way off to her desk. As usual, she unlocked the front door and made sure the tv was locked onto the cooking channel.

The door opened while she was still working on the tv. “Hi there Robin!”

“Hey Mr.Holloway! How are you this fine morning?”

“Doing well! Just here to go over my labs with Dr.Munson!” He made his way to the sign in sheet while Robin entered through the door to the back and resumed her spot at her desk.

He continued, “How are you all doing? Deborah said you were all pretty sick when she came in the other day.”

“Yeah,” Robin nodded, pulling out his chart and starting to scribble on it, “We’re doing much better now, thanks for asking! Think all of us are on the mend finally.”

“That’s what we like to hear.” He smiled.

“So your insurance covers everything today as well. Steve will come get ya soon alright?”

“Thanks Robin!” The man was so happy all the time.

She got up and brought his chart back to Steve. “Mr.Holloway is here. Super happy as usual!”

“Oh good! I’ve missed him.” Steve took the chart and started to write his own notes on it.

---

By 12:20, everyone was gathered in the staff break room again. Steve had just come back in carrying a large paper bag with six cups of soup. He bought one for Billy too just in case he decided to leave his lair and join them for once.

He unpacked the soups and passed them out, Chrissy setting out plastic silverware for everyone. Eddie loved this restaurant because the soup came with little packets of saltine crackers, which they piled in the middle of the table.

“Thanks for the soup Steve.” Chrissy said as she took a bite.

“No problem.” He pushed his glasses a little farther up the bridge of his nose. “Sorry for giving you all the flu.”

“Think we’re all mostly on the tail end of it except maybe Nance.” Robin noted.

Nancy shook her head as she finished chewing, “I’m okay, really. Just feels like a bit of a chest cold.”

“Say what you will, I’m just glad I can breathe through my nose again.” Eddie tossed his hands up in surrender.

“Hey why are there six soups?” Robin pointed at the sealed container in the middle.

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “I uh… got one for Billy in case he wanted it but I haven’t seen him since before lunch.”

“You’re too nice to him, Steven. He’s not in his office?” Eddie asked.

“Nope. I looked.”

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom. The door was closed but I just assumed it was one of you…” Chrissy added.

Eddie hummed thoughtfully and stood up, walking slightly down the hall to the closed staff bathroom door. He knocked gently, “Billy? You in there?”

There was a pause and then a very gruff, “Go…’Way.”

“Well are you decent??” Steve asked. He’d followed Eddie, the girls standing back, just in the doorway of the kitchen.

“…Yes.”

“I’m coming in.”

Eddie cautiously turned the door handle and was met with a sour smell. Billy was knelt on the floor, mullet sticking to his neck with sweat. He leaned over the toilet and retched.

Eddie gagged audibly and turned around, fist to his mouth, “STEVE!”

“Jesus Christ…” Steve sidestepped Eddie, who made his way back to the girls.

Eddie swallowed as Robin ushered him back into the kitchen, “Sorry, I don’t do vomit.” He whispered.

“I know. It’s okay.” Robin laughed at her superior’s visceral reaction.

Back in the restroom, Steve was awkwardly hovering over Billy, the man who bullied him daily.

“Are you…done? You should go home.”

Billy held up a hand and slowly pushed off his knees and stood up shakily, Steve steadying him with a gentle hand.

He was half expecting a gruff “don’t touch me” out of him, but if never came.

Steve knew Billy only lived about five minutes away. He stood there for a few minutes while Billy sat in his car.

“Can you drive?”

“Yes I can drive, Harrington.” He was trying to be mean, but it was hard to take him seriously when he had puke in his hair.

After a few more minutes, Steve felt comfortable letting him drive home. Once Billy was gone, he went back to the staff room where the girls were finishing their soup.

Eddie was a little pale and was holding a emesis bag just in case. Chrissy had one arm around him, rubbing his back.

“Don’t know how you guys can eat after that…” he mumbled.

“Because I’m hungry and there’s only five minutes left of lunch.” Robin downed the rest of her soup and then headed back to unlock the door and start checking in the afternoon patients. She’d have to rearrange the schedule a little bit since Billy left.

---

“This has to have been one of the worst weeks.” Eddie muttered as they all made their way out of the building at the end of the day.

“Yeah. I mean. Jesus. Thank goodness we had Chrissy with us though!” Robin have the blonde a squeezing hug from behind.

“I’m so sad to go back to my normal clinic next week! But it’s truly been an experience here, guys.” She chuckled, also thinking back on the hellish week.

“You guys wanna come over for drinks later?” Steve asked.

“I have a date with a bubble bath and a movie.” Nancy said, “Thank you though.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to pass unfortunately. Gonna get some extra sleep before next week.” Chrissy agreed.

“Robs?”

“Mmmmm yeah sure. I will be drinking my weight in Eddie’s mojitos though.”

Steve chuckled. “You can spend the night if you want. We have a very nice couch.”

“Hmm, deal! I’ll come over later.”

*****

Monday, October 24

Monday came way too soon for everyone. Chrissy was back at her usual clinic, which meant it was a little extra boring for Robin.

She’d spent her weekend third wheeling Steve and Eddie and then binge watching Bake Off at her own apartment on Sunday. Nancy and the boys had taken their free time and used it for some solid rest to sleep off whatever was left of the flu that had terrorized them.

Nancy was standing at her desk, typing at the computer before the doors opened when Steve and Eddie showed up. They were laughing about something silly Steve had said on the drive over from their place.

“Hey Nance!”

“Morning Nancy.”

“Hey guys!”

Robin heard them arrive and sauntered over. “Hello boys. Notice anything…different about today?”

“Ummm we’re not all dying?” Eddie asked.

“Nope!”

“Chrissy is gone and it’s boring again?” Steve tried.

“True. But wrong again.” She paused for effect before leaning in and telling them all, “Billy’s not here.”

“Billy’s always late.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“No no no. You misunderstood me.” She said.

Eddie’s eyes got hug with curiosity, as did Nancy’s.

“He called out. He’s still super sick.”

“Oh. My. God.” Steve tried to stop a smile from creeping on his face. He didn’t want to be happy that Billy was sick, but god did he have it coming.

“You’re joking.” Eddie accused.

“I’m not. He called me when I got here and said he’s not coming. He feels like… a lot of words I can’t say… and he’ll be back maybe Wednesday.”

“Well shit. He was right…” Steve began.

“Right about what?” Eddie asked.

Steve looked at Robin and Nancy who caught on right away. All at the same time they said,

“This job isn’t for the weak.”

[venusandsaturnsrings]

i was scrolling through your incel childe tag and whew… safe to say i would let that man do anything to me 😇 love incel childe he’s so fine 😖😖😖😖 idk if you’ve already made a post about this but is there anything he wouldn’t be willing to do… (if that makes sense ??)

hehe thank u for enjoying my stuff abt him!! he’s filthy and deranged…

he is the simp to end all simps… he’d try anything once for u!! that said, i imagine he’d have a few hard limits such as emeto or scat… he’s not THAT gross i don’t think… he’s also definitely not willing to share u!! otherwise?? everything’s on the table!! i do think there would be things he’s not super into but would do anyways if ur into them such as: pegging him… or fucking u in PUBLIC public (think a grocery store isle).

his favourite kinks are as follows: fearplay, anything involving weapons and/or blood, restraints, dubcon, fucking u infront of the homies, marking, anything that will inflict pain on either of u, and …piss…

hehe thanks for the good question!! (*^ω^*)

[randomgooberness]

Don't mind us we're just spilling our guts! If this is love I don't wanna be loved! You pollute the room with a filthy tongue- Watch me choke it down so I can throw it up!

[anythingelsereally014]

and it got me thinking about IV a lot

the whump possibilities with IV

if the character is like me, their vein is hard to find and it takes at least three times for someone to put the needle in there

if they're like me and they're afraid of needles, they'll for sure pass out during that and that's just

💫passing out on top of another illness💫

person's there feeling awful and they decide to give them IV meds just for them to pass out and throw up too and leave the hospital feeling worse than before

(or is that just me?)

[looks-to-the-moon-cock]

Picture with very obvious intersex imagery:

Perisex people: LOOK AT HOW NONBINARY THEY ARE!!! SO COOL! PROPER REPRESENTATION!!!

Me, a transneutral intersex person: *proceeds to go vomit*

[daburuwosagase]

For once I do wanna get out of bed and start the day, but Truffle is snuggled up to me under the covers. So warm and squishy.

I had to brush both of them out yesterday since Mocha was coughing up hairballs at 2am. I hate to make light of his misfortune, but he sounds like a wheezy squeaky toy when regurgitating. Nothing in the last 24 hours though so that's a relief.

[psychoqomp]

meet the janitor

“Pachinko?”

There’s a pause in the air as Silk considers those words, leaning back in his seat with one leg crossed over the other, palm against his cheek with a very thoughtful expression. And then he snaps his free hand’s fingers with an impish smile.

“Oooh, right. Chin-Chin. You know, if I had a nickel for every random guy I found on the street that ends up having the raw talent for murder, I’d have two nickels. Not a lot, but it’s really weird that it’s happened twice, you know?”

A shrug of the shoulders.

“Although between him and Reaper, I think I prefer Reaper. Chin-Chin is kind of neurotic, y’know? He could snap at any moment and turn into a killer. Reaper’s more placid. Complacent. He’ll just always be like that. Besides… If I had to choose between a guy who’s taller than me and really well built and a guy who’s barely taller than me with a twinky body like that?”

A roll of the eyes, although it is accompanied by a soft chuckle that hints at just a little bit of affection. . . In the way one might have for an upturned turtle on the side of the street, that is- the kind where you can’t be bothered to flip it over but cheer it on anyway so that it might eventually do it on its own.

“Yeah, no thanks. But I can’t deny that he brings results. . . Sometimes.”

—--------------

“SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILK! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”

The pathetic whine almost makes the comms blow out due to the high and panicked pitch, and all this does is make Silk cackle right into Pachinko’s ear, the panicked janitor-turned-assassin suddenly turning a corner to hide in a storage closet full of- oh, hey, janitorial tools. Neat.

Why’s he in this situation?! Why the fuck was he ordered to take out a whole FOREIGN DIPLOMAT??? WHY IS HE BEING CHASED BY FIVE GUARDS?! HE ISN’T MADE FOR THIS SORT OF SHIT!!!

He sinks onto his knees in the closet and covers his face in his hands, resisting the urge to eject out his lunch. Oh, god, the steps are getting closer. One of them’s here. Oh god. He never even got to tell that pretty Mary girl at the casino that she was really, really hot and that he really wanted to-

The door swings open and the bodyguard instantly empties a hail of bullets into the closet- however, since Pachinko was on his knees, they end up flying directly into the back of the closet. . . And thus, they bounce off of a bucket (what the hell is that bucket made out of?) and fly right back at the shooter, peppering him in his own bullets. He collapses in front of Pachinko, lifeless- and the gun he was holding slips right in front of him. “Did you die, Pachinko? C’moon Chinchin, five seconds and then I’ll terminate the connection. Don’t want to get caught. One, two, three,”

there’s the sound of someone scampering for a gun, picking it up, loading it and then laughing quietly to himself.

“Oh! Good. Now be a good boy for me,”

He can feel a mixture of drool and upchuck go down his chin, wiping it while laughing. Yeah, yeahyeahyeahyeah. He has the gun now, motherfucker. He’s got the fucking gun. What’s four guys with guns against him? Nothing, because he has the fucking GUN!!! YEAH!! HAHA! YEAH, HE HAS THE FUCKING GUN! Oh, god, the blood makes him want to kill himself.

“and kill for me.”

—----------------------------

“Pachinko?”

Shade blinks a few times and crosses her arms, eyes closed soon after. She’s clearly genuinely trying to recall who the hell she’s being asked about before slowly shaking her head.

“Sorry, I’ve got no clue who you’re talking about. If you’re asking me about them, I guess they’re important though.”

Fingers comb through her hair as she thinks. No, she just can’t really figure out who the fuck she’s being asked about.

“. . . Nope, sorry. I guess I should be using this chance to bitch about work instead. Not /this/ work, but at the casino. I mean, walking around all day filling glasses for skeevy older guys- women and other people sometimes, too- is tiring… And then there’s the fact that I’ve got some secret admirer.”

Her voice grows more annoyed as she prattles on.

“Like, seriously dude. We know you’ve got no chance, and I mean- fuck me, I don’t want to be rude, but just stop staring and /thinking/ about talking to me if you’re actually never going to, right? It’s just annoying me and wasting your time. Go out and meet someone, anyone! Am I right?”

—-------------

“Pachinko?”

Eagle’s expression grows tired the moment these words leave his lips, grumbling- fingers pressed against his forehead, like he’s trying to push back an oncoming migraine with all his willpower- and physical power too, the way his fingers are pushed.

“I worked with him once. It was very unpleasant. He tends to panic easily, and while we got the job done without any losses or chances of being caught, I asked Silk to not put me with him again. He has this tendency to… How to say it…”

It’s clear he has the words on his lips already and he’s trying really hard to be polite, but at this point he can’t really gather the energy to. Pachinko would definitely shit talk him if he was here, right? He definitely would. He shouldn’t be extending a courtesy that he knows isn’t going to be returned.

“Go absolutely fucking neurotic, you know? Pardon my French. I was his support and he got his hands on some guns on the site and he just started being all manic about it. I don’t think he’s built for this, but apparently he keeps getting work done, so Silk keeps him on board… Ugh. I hate that guy too.”

Pause.

“You’re not telling Silk I said that, right? Not that I care, but I don’t want him to start pairing me up with Pachinko more.”

—--------------------

“Pachinko!”

Vixen grins and intertwines her fingers, leaning forward to smile in a way that is very, very alluring- and also not very alluring. Like a toxic rainforest frog presenting itself to the viewer.

“I love that guy. He’s so fun to work with! He always starts off shy and reserved- really, he can’t keep his eyes on my face- but once we get going he really embraces the whole carnage thing.”

And then she leans back, waving a hand in the air dismissively. She lost interest as quickly as it came.

“But he has this problem where he always pretends what happened didn’t, you know? Like he’s trying to put on the airs of being normal again. You know what his problem is? He’s got low tolerance for blood and gore AND he stresses out easily. He’s just not made for this life. I’m surprised he keeps going. Maybe Silk has something on him.”

Then again- her eyes close, and a wicked grin paints itself onto her features until it consumes all the appeal she could’ve had.

“Or maybe he really wants to grow some balls and this is his way of doing it. I mean, I’d definitely develop some if I kept killing people as much as he does… He might just beat my kill count eventually if this keeps up. I’m really looking forward to it.”

—--------------

“Pachinko. . . ?”

Cherry fiddles with her apron, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Or rather, she is lost. She knows who he is, but he’s so overwhelming she finds it hard to properly word her thoughts on the matter.

“He’s a little, um.”

And unlike Eagle, who faked politeness, she is genuinely trying to be polite- and she is failing at it, because there isn’t much good or bad to say about him besides this simple fact;

“pathetic?”

That’s the only word she can figure out that fits, and she ends up lifting her hand to stroke at her hair instead, like she has to constantly be tinkering with something or this conversation will swallow her whole. A nervous gulp, a pause, and then a nod.

“Yeah, pathetic. But I don’t think it’s his fault or anything. He’s nice to me when we talk, and he doesn’t do anything inappropriate or anything, I just. . . Well, when he came over, he ended up hitting his head on the shelf, and then a lot of my WIPs ended up smashing him in the face, knocking him out.”

A nervous gulp, again.

“I, um- we were lucky none of them were primed and ready, ahah. He just quietly left after he woke up.”

—-------

“Pachinko?”

Reaper blinks and shrugs.

“Never heard of him.”

—----------------

Reaper stands over the bloody body, huffing and breathing deep. Haaaaaaaa. Inhaling in all the air and some noxious gasses in the world and then exhaling, slowly unscrewing the silencer from his pistol.

That was it? He’d expected more. He’s just dead, on the ground, unmoving. He really did expect more. The blood’s starting to pool up and spread, and he doesn’t want to stain his shoes. He reaches for his coat’s pocket to get a cigarette out alongside his lighter, slipping the filter between his lips. And-

inhale.

Eyes turn skywards to stare at the vomit of light pollution, but beyond it a big white orb hangs above them, painting him and the corpse in its lunacy inducing waves. He smiles to himself, stashing his lighter and cigarettes away to instead search for his brick phone. Silk’s on speed dial.

The moon’s beautiful tonight.

His steps start to carry him, but he was so lost in the moment that he hadn’t even realized two simple facts.

One, the blood has spread.

Two, Pachinko is still alive.

The bottoms of his shoes slip on the blood, sending him stumbling onto his back, and in that time the wild-eyed man- lucky, lucky, he is so lucky to be a lunatic- scrambles on top of him and starts slamming his hands down. He has no weapon besides his own average fists attached to average arms attached to an average body, but he just keeps viciously beating.

Results are only achieved due to the concussion Reaper’s gotten due to slipping and landing on his back, back of the skull cracked and split from the sheer impact- followed by Pachinko’s hands hammering it against the pavement again and again, spreading his wild hair out-

he can just barely see the moon shining bright behind the head of the other, like a halo, and he ends up smiling even as he’s being beaten.

Silk, the moon really is. . .

Pachinko’s breath hitches as his swings wind down until they’re just desperate slaps and then nothing at all, holding the other corpse’s face in his own hands before he lets go and scrambles back, eyes wild and wide like dinner plates and hands bloody and body contorted and ohhhh god it feels good.

“Haa…”

He slowly pushes himself to stand, wiping sweat and blood from his brow- bloodying it even more. And he kicks the side of the body. Dead as a doornail.

“Haa… haaa…..”

He’s alive. And he won. He killed someone in a totally fair fight. Or was it fair if it was luck that Reaper got distracted and tripped?

“haa…hahaha- haha! hahahaha! haha, yeah!”

And he kicks again and again, turning the body onto its stomach so that it can drown in the mixture of their blood, and he punches the air and he jumps on the spot and he dances like a real joy boy, grinning wide.

“I did it! I fucking won! Eat shit, I won! I won!”

And then he leans on his own knees and ejaculates (yes, ejaculates, his mouth is like a fucking dickhead and he is splattering his innards out onto the ground like it’s an 80s sexploistation film) vomit onto the ground. He wipes his mouth and gets some blood onto his lips, licking it and groaning.

He starts to walk, mumbling.

“And my fucking name isn’t Pachinko, it’s-”

he trips.

Maybe his shoelaces ended up untied during the struggle, or he just made the same mistake reaper did and ignored how a blood pool can actually be really slippery, but he flips and lands on the ground and-

does he die? Does he just get knocked out? Well, there’s no-one to confirm it. Who knows. There’s no conscious living soul in this alleyway now. Just two men on the ground, one definitely dead and the other questionably alive, and their blood mixes together alongside the vomit to create a whole new thing;

a homunculus of unfortunate circumstances.

[whump-card]

Whumpee shows up to work lethargic and crabby. Halfway through the morning they have to run to the bathroom to be sick. The Team teases them lightheartedly.

"Must have been some night out!"

"Had a party and didn't invite us?"

This happens more than once; Whumpee gains a reputation as a party person. They don't deny it.

Little do the Team know, Whumpee's occasional condition has nothing to do with having fun.

[kalashnikovlobotomy]

this ame guy is da bomb! a landmine more accurately.

[pastadoughie]

[beeshornyjail]

i discovered the hottest thing about a character vomiting. their stomach compacting in on itself and rolling as it expels from the mouth. i saw a fic describe someone's belly visibly squeezing and forcing it out. i want to see how the contents travel up from the stomach to the throat and then out. i need animation of the muscles of the torso constricting and shrinking before it shudders back out once it has been regurgitated. i did this animation in like 5 minutes just to get it on the page but this is what i want.

[crypticdesire]

some sub slasher thoughts

MINORS DNI

includes vincent sinclair, jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, michael myers, brahms heelshire, and stu macher (around 2.4k words)

a note from vern: i haven't posted any fics about slashers yet, but the recent asks about slashers on pallas's blog made me want to share some of my hcs for some of my fav slashers. it's really a jumble of some broader hcs and some specific fantasies, which ended up being longer than i intended... i think i could write at least 10 different fics based off the content in this post ^^'

ANYWAYS content warnings will be listed with each slasher so make sure you read those! mentions of reader are all gn and implied top reader. cw will state if there's a mention of the reader having specific genitalia

VINCENT SINCLAIR cw: hypno, dollification, period sex + blood (vincent being one menstruating), reader mentioned having cock

➵ vincent is always so stuck in his mind trying to create the perfect art or be the perfect brother, so he needs you to help him unwind

➵ loves taking baths with you where he can sit between your legs and have you play with his hair and his cunt

➵ he also enjoys hypno because he gets the rare chance to not think at all. he just gets to mindlessly follow your instructions, laying still as he enjoys your touch and experiences orgasm after orgasm

➵ when it’s that time of the month, vincent especially needs your help. not only is he suffering from cramps but he finds all the thoughts in his head are louder and harsher making it too easy to become frustrated with himself over the smallest things

➵ it feels so good to have your cock inside him, letting him sign what pace he wants to feel your length gliding against his walls. alleviating his pain and pushing his insistent thoughts to the edges of his mind. he’s embarrassed by the thought of messiness at first but finds that the sight of his blood coating your fingers or smeared across the bottom half of your face is its own form of art that entrances him

➵ it’s not the only new form of art you make him aware of. you show him that he himself can be beautiful art through dollification. you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel pretty and he enjoys it even more when you do it by dressing him in pretty clothes and braiding strands of his hair. you tell him he looks just as beautiful as the wax sculptures he makes and when hypno is added he can feel like one for an extended moment. it's only in a hypnotized state that he lets you pose his body in front of a mirror with his mask off, allowing him to see the way you caress your precious doll

JASON VOORHEES cw: chastity device, piss, reader mentioned having a cock, role play, mention of murder

➵ just wants to be praised. pls call him a good boy and tell him how pretty he is!!

➵ i think he’s so eager to please you that once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll practically try out any kink you introduce him to, especially ones that give you control over him

➵ he gets turned on just by the process of you guiding him through a new kink, patiently explaining why you enjoy it, what you’re doing, how it might make him feel, possible limits to establish, etc.

➵ specifically, I think about that scenario with a chastity cage. he gets so turned on by you talking about it and what you’re going to do that he gets erect before you even put the cage on him. he’d be worried he disappointed you and wouldn’t enjoy being shamed for it, so tell him how cute he is and how much you’d enjoy helping him get prepped for it

➵ i also imagine that he especially likes a chastity device with a urethra rod so he has to get permission from you to pee

➵ something he really enjoys with or without the cage is cockwarming! he loves the feeling of you inside of him and when you praise him for sitting still. he finds it especially thrilling when you’re cockwarming him out in the open having to remain still even though someone could come across you any second, his senses elevated as he becomes super aware of his surroundings

➵ another discovery he makes is that he loves engaging in role play, especially when it involves a future victim who isn’t aware they’re taking part in it. after they’re killed he is so so sensitive and wants you to tell him how well he did with the scene and how that person deserved it

➵ just constantly desperate to hear you assure him that all his actions please you!

BUBBA SAWYER cw: reader is implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, feminization, exhibitionism

➵ he gets so excited anytime you touch him, and when you kiss him he can’t keep his hands still or stop himself from sloppily kissing or licking your skin

➵ he never takes long to cum, and even though he easily falls into overstimulation he prefers for you to fuck him roughly and loves when you pinch his clit, spank his pussy, or leave hickeys on his inner thighs or stomach

➵ he wants you to call him your pretty girl! he gets so excited when you buy him dresses or lingerie he has to try them on immediately and have you fuck him in it

➵ you have to patiently help him build up to it, but he ends up enjoying exhibitionism! he’s frequently worried about trespassers that could be a danger to you or his family, but you help him face that fear by convincing him to let you fuck him outside in a semi open space.

➵ he wears dresses and his pretty woman face for your outside rendezvous. you shower him with compliments and praise as you always do; additionally, you tell him that if anyone did happen to see you fucking, the only thing they’d be able to think about is how jealous they were of you for being able to fuck such a pretty girl.

➵ if given the option, his favorite place outside for you to fuck him is in the back of a pickup truck, especially when you’re on your knees fucking him against the back window where he can see your reflections

➵ on days when you can tell he’s up for it you coax him to ride you. he’s so used to being submissive in different aspects of his life that it takes him a while to understand that you’re giving him control of his movements and the pace you go at

➵ you have to guide him a lot the first few times and help him find what feels the best for him. you also have to help him choose what to do with his hands because not knowing what to do with them in the beginning, he instinctively covers his masked face with them

➵ he still prefers for you to be the one in control and fucking him but occasionally wants to ride you finding that he enjoys it when he’s feeling sexy and wants to last longer, drawing out your intimate time together

MICHAEL MYERS cw: voyeurism, reader mentioned having a cock, pet play, mention of role play and masochism

➵ definitely a voyeur, watching people without them knowing being so natural for him. when he finds himself attracted to you, i can see him not only watching you masturbate for pleasure but, being inexperienced, he wants to make mental notes of what you like, and how he might touch you if he ever did

➵ in my mind, I can picture him watching the way you move your hand on your cock, and without even realizing he begins to mirror your movements with his own hand, at least the best he can with his knife as the substitute he’s unconsciously using for your dick

➵ idk i’ve always liked the idea of him doing pet play with you before he’s even comfortable enough to let you touch him. tho that is very cat coded ig

➵ it’s not hard to imagine how the idea of a bell would come up with him always lurking. like just thoughtlessly saying he needed to wear a bell when he catches you off guard one time, and then considering your words making an offhand remark that a cat collar would actually look quite cute on him. you don’t think too much about your words until you come home one day with mikey sitting on your bed with a cat collar on the bed beside him

➵ after that, the kitty comments you direct at mikey come frequently and it's not too long before you convince him to wear the cat ears you bought as well. in getting closer to you it's easier to add another layer than taking off his mask physically and metaphorically speaking. and he discovers he’s really turned on by the fact that you call him "my kitty"

➵ he’s also a silly guy though so he definitely takes off the collar sometimes so he can still surprise you. just tilting his head in that cute way when you point out it’s obvious he scared you on purpose

➵ fast forward to when he does let you touch him… i can see him, especially at first, liking when you give his unclothed cock a hand job with his overalls still on, him holding the top together so really just his cock and a bit of his happy trail are visible. I think it helps him ease into things and I also see him preferring not to have his cum on his own skin so he likes that it’s spurting onto his clothes instead

➵ some other things I think he likes but won't go into detail about are you using toys on him, role play, you playing with his tits, and him just being a general masochist!

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE cw: pet play, scent kink, piss, possessiveness, reader mentioned having cock, somnophilia

➵ really he could be summarized as a puppy boy and a brat, but let’s talk about it anyway!

➵ he has a major scent kink and being a puppy boy and a brat ofc that means he’s going to be pissing on some of your things

➵ it always happens when you’re gone - how dare you leave him alone! - sometimes it’s because he gets too carried away humping your pillow but other times it’s out of jealously

➵ oh? you bring something new home that someone ELSE gave to you? pisses on it.

➵ oh? there’s this scent of cologne that he’s never smelled on your jacket before? pisses on it.

➵ oh? you’re going to make him spend a night alone in your bed? pisses on it.

➵ i also like the idea of him putting on your undergarments when you’re not home from your bin of dirty clothes of course. he’s always struggled to look at himself in mirrors but it’s different when he can focus his attention on the way he plays with himself while wearing something of yours. he doesn’t even try to hide it, you undressing him that evening to find him still wearing your undergarments stained with his cum

➵ his actions require some form of punishment, which he only enjoys if you reward him for taking the punishment like a good boy.

➵ peeing on your things instead of his pee pad? well, you’ll just have to tie him up and make him watch you piss on it since he doesn’t know how to. it makes him so upset knowing that he could be your pee pad or urinal instead. he could have your scent on him. he only lets you tie him up because afterward, he gets to suck your cock, perhaps getting lucky enough to taste a small dribble of piss that was left in your bladder.

➵ he’s not allowed to sleep in your bed for one night? only if you let him ride you on it the next day. while he loves being roughly fucked by you, liking the thought that you can’t contain yourself, he also wants to ride you from time to time

➵ you often keep him in check making sure he doesn’t get too carried away, but when he rides you let him be as eager as he pleases. he can fuck himself on your cock at whatever pace he likes, for however long he likes, and touch you wherever he wants

➵ you have to give him permission on specific nights when he’s allowed play with your cock while you're sleeping because if not you’d wake up every morning with your cock being warmed by his mouth or his hole

STU MACHER cw: pet play, implied that you aren't exclusive, facefucking with reader implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, mention of stuffing + emetophilia, piss, one mention of reader who menstruates + period sex + blood, mention of drug use

➵ whew playful puppy boy that tries to hide how obsessed he is with you and how badly he wants you to be obsessed with him

➵ he doesn’t have to be the only one you play with, but if other pets are around he has to prove he’s your good boy, the best boy

➵ he’s always doing something to get some type of reaction out of you for his own amusement, constantly testing your limits when you’re alone trying to see how much he can get away with. and he likes it when you push his limits in a different way

➵ seeing how long he can let you face fuck him even when he’s gagging and tears dot the corner of his eyes

➵ seeing how long he can watch you fuck someone else without touching himself if he wants to fucked himself

➵ seeing how many times he can cum, which has to be at least until he’s overstimulated and crying

➵ seeing how much he can eat before he’s throwing up

➵ seeing how long he can hold his piss for you. though he’s not satisfied by just drinking water and holding. he only enjoys it if you’re teasing him or he’s teasing you by making it harder for himself to hold

➵ ways he likes you to tease him include edging him, straddling him and pressing on his bladder, not letting him press his legs together, making him watch you wet yourself, and pouring water onto his groin

➵ ways he likes to tease you and himself include always insisting he can drink more, showing you how many jumping jacks he can do, grinding against his puppy pad, and masturbating in front of you sometimes while on the phone with billy

➵ if you menstruate he wants to go down on you. he loves the mess and will go out of his way to make it as messy as possible

➵ he also just likes to go down on you in general. at a certain stage of being high, all he wants to do is have his head between your thighs, laying there for as long as you let him. he’ll rotate between moving his tongue against you languidly, kissing anywhere his lips can reach, and nuzzling his face into you

[incognitopolls]

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[cinnamoneve]

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞.

heliophile \ ˈhēlēəˌfīl \ (n.) - one attracted to, or adapted to sunlight.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru was warm, like the sun. it only took a big social event (and for him to drink a bit) for you to truly see him shine ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: ough i love him i've been sitting on this for a WHILE !! as always, reblogs n comments are much appreciated <;3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: alcohol consumption ( everyone give a big hand to satoru for drinking !!!! ) and then he throws up from alcohol consumption !!! (emeto warning)

satoru gojo was an easy man. 

he had a laundry list of things he loved more than life. his students, his pretty little girlfriend; there wasn’t a boundary that existed that his persistent and ever-forward personality couldn’t break into. 

satoru was like the sun, in a way. things just…came alive around him. the chaos he brought with him everywhere he went was so common that it was almost comforting. where bad things happened, satoru fixed them. and wherever he was, the good just followed. his rays of light and entropy reached out and warmed everything it touched. all beings seemed to turn to bask in his very being.

for things he hated? well, there was a list for that too. some more prominent than others, but your favorite thing he seemed to hate was the least offensive of its competition: alcohol.

in the years you two have been together, you couldn’t recall the last time satoru was seen with a drink in his hand, let alone remember if you’d ever seen it. he didn’t mind when other people were drinking, of course (and loved to indulge you when you got a bit too drunk), but never let himself take a sip.

you weren’t sure if it was because of a bad experience in his youth, something in his family, or just a personal experience; it was never right to bring it up.

but you didn’t mind. and tonight was a night worth celebrating, after all.

you and satoru got dressed up to go out with some friends. something about a big mission finally being over. you’ve never seen anyone party as hard as sorcerers do after they finish their job. all you and satoru could do was attend and catch up with colleagues. you’d have a drink, he’d have a mocktail, and all would flow like it normally would.

satoru fiddled with the button on his shirt as you two walked into the venue.

some club that was picked out by someone whose name you forgot–maybe they were from kyoto? you couldn’t really remember. it wasn’t the type of scene you frequented, but a change of pace was very much welcomed. 

your boyfriend’s jittery hands caught your eye as you glanced over at him. his other hand kept you close to his body, but just enough so that you could look up at his face. 

“feelin’ okay, baby?” 

he looks at you a little delayed, nodding before his eyes meet yours to put your mind at ease.

“we don’t have to stay too long, if you don’t wanna hang around,”

“that’s not it,” he starts, and he barely opens his mouth before he’s called over by some colleagues. you continue to look up at him as he greets them with a sweet smile, rubbing your back to soothe your worries.

mmm, not like you believed him, but you did trust him; so you followed him along, walking just ahead of him as his hand guided you towards his colleagues. 

and the colleagues just kept on coming, even inside the club. you’d think satoru worked with, or even saved, every single person in the entire country with the amount of people coming up to you at this party. and he had a story for each and every one of them too–his memory about them all was crazy. it almost made you fall in love with him just a little bit more. he’s interacted with hundreds–no, thousands of people for work. but he always seemed to remember those he had a different kind of impact on. 

it made your head spin a bit. sure, he liked to be grandiose about his adventures and his work, but seeing people back him up about it in the flesh seemed like a big gag that you weren’t let in on. you believed him, but was he really that great? he saved that many people, exorcized how many curses?

admiration poured out for satoru quicker than he could extend out a glass to hold it all. it was heartwarming to see. part of you wished people would treat him like this always, in secret hopes he’d be gentler on himself on the bad days. or maybe they already did, and it just wasn’t enough.

it was hard to hear everyone speaking when you were thinking so loud. you caught yourself staring at your boyfriend for longer than you think was normal.

he was the sun. the burning, beautiful, sustaining sun. people turned to him instinctively like sunflowers do when they want to flourish. like the sun, it felt like satoru was bound to detonate at any point–by the time you knew, it’d be over already. fleeting, warm, quick, yet merciless. 

do the people basking in his warmth know that it’s the warmth of a man who lit himself on fire?

mankind could never land on the sun. you’d burn up before you could even truly appreciate it. maybe these people were appreciating him from a safe distance. close enough, but never close enough to scald themselves or be swallowed up in the atmosphere. 

if he was the sun, you weren’t sure what that makes you.

a close planet orbiting nearby? an asteroid? maybe you’re a lone astronaut, untethered in the vastness of it all. with the sun loving you from afar, as it usually does. 

you weren’t sure if you liked the answer, or the implication of it all. it was time for a drink. 

when satoru had a spare moment to breathe, you pulled him away to head to the bar and get a drink. you hugged him a little bit tighter than usual, opting to hold onto his arm instead of just his hand.

“you okay there?” he asked.

you nodded, smiling at him and rubbing his arm. you’d thought yourself into a worry, is all, there was no use in getting him mixed up in it as well. 

“i’m okay! just meeting a lot of people tonight,”

“sorry, i’m sure it’s overwhelming, sweetie,”

“i don’t mind it. i like hearing all of your stories from work,”

you reach the bar and he leans on it, looking at you fondly.

“really~? you like hearing all these stories about your big, bad boyfriend saving the day, huh?”

you roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to suppress a smile.

“mmm, it’s gone. you ruined it,”

he cocks his head smiling, drawing a little nonsensical pattern on your arm while he admires you.

maybe you couldn’t be the sun. but you could get as close as you wanted to it. he accepted you into his atmosphere with open arms.

“don’t pretend you don’t love it, baby,”

you look away as the bartender approaches, smiling gently. 

“something like that,”

you place your order, chatting with the bartender about another patron. 

unbeknownst to you, satoru had been approached by a woman he’d worked with many years ago. she greeted him with a warm hug, touch lingering on him a little too long, eyes traveling too south before talking only about what she’s been up to. 

by the time you’d gone back to him with your drink, satoru was holding a small shot glass in hand. 

“i’ve been treated to a shot! lucky me,” he said. 

you shift your eyes between him and the woman across from him, unsure what was going on. before you could decide, satoru was rubbing your lip with a lemon wedge. 

you couldn’t even wipe the juice dribbling from your chin before watching your boyfriend lick salt off the back of his hand and slam back his drink. 

and then he turned to you, grabbing your face to kiss you incredibly obnoxiously in front of this woman. 

it felt like he’d taken all the air out of your lungs. he was electric. 

and he just took a shot, apparently. 

he turns back to the woman, who was still watching—half in disgust.

“you said it was salt, tequila, and lemon for the order, right?” he asked. his hand moved back down to its rightful position hovering just above the shelf of your butt. 

the poor woman could barely speak. it’d become obvious that she’d bought the shot for him, hoping that a mere tequila shot would have him head over heels for her. all she did was nod, a little bit perplexed and a lot a bit embarrassed. 

“thanks for the shot!” 

satoru turned away from the defeated woman, guiding you back towards the bartender on the other end of the counter. 

“feelin’ dangerous tonight, huh?”

“i’m not gonna turn down anything free,” 

you tap your finger on the counter, mulling it over. 

dramatically pouting, you smile up at him, “you hate alcohol though,” 

he smiles down at you, motioning the bartender over. 

“might as well go all in, yeah?”

he orders ‘whatever you’re having,’ opening a tab while taking a sip and wincing at the taste of it. he’s trying, at least, but his dramatics were pulling out all the stops tonight. 

satoru made his way through the party, socializing with nearly every group of people he could find. it was almost as if being alone would kill him. 

you know how sharks continue moving so that they can stay alive? satoru had to have evolved from them. he couldn’t sit still. 

that was the first indication that he’d had too much to drink. his aversion to alcohol left your oh-so-strong boyfriend with the worst alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen.

one tequila shot with a drink and a half—he’s already thinking hard about every word that comes out of his mouth. 

his hand never left the small of your back. first moving you like a personal shield in front of him when you arrived, he’s now shifted to using you as a point of balance. 

the night flew by when you turned your attention solely on him. you knew he’d be okay, ultimately, and you cut him off before he did anything embarrassing. but seeing him so inebriated was an unfortunate turn of character. 

“ready to go?” you asked. you and satoru were one of the few left, as everyone else had decided to continue the night at a different club. 

you’d figured satoru wouldn’t mind if you cut the night a little bit short. 

“mhm~” 

satoru spoke slowly, eyes closed as he shifted his body weight more onto you. you couldn’t recall how long you’d been sitting in this booth, but you figured you’d fare better back at your apartment. 

you helped him get up, saying goodbye to the remaining sorcerers as you walked the both of you out to the car. 

satoru ran to open your door for you, as he usually did. just a little bit slower, and definitely more intentional this time. 

“baby, you’re too drunk to drive,” you laughed, “c’mon, get in,” 

he looked at the open car door, not hearing a word you just said to him. 

once it’s processed, he closes that door and speed walks to the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side and motioning you to get in. 

all you can do is smile. 

you kiss him on his hand as you pull it off the door. 

“thank you, love”

he looks at you dumbly, waiting for something. 

“can i have a kiss?” 

he didn’t have to ask for permission for that, and you weren’t really sure why he was now. but you were cold, tired, and ready to go to sleep. 

“i’ll give you one if you get in the car and buckle up,”

you’d barely finished the sentence before satoru was running to his side, getting in and buckling up. by the time you’d caught up to him and sat in your own seat, he was leaning over the center console waiting for his prize. 

so stupid, you thought. so cute.

leaning in, you kissed him as if he was made of glass. as he deserved to be kissed. and loved. gently, kindly, softly. he was easy to love. 

he desperately tried to make the kiss deeper, gently moaning into your mouth and speeding up his pace in hopes that you’d catch on. 

you did. you’re a smart one. 

but he didn’t have to know that. 

you let him kiss you as long as he wanted. indulging every swipe of his tongue, answering all of his unsung moans with one of your own, smiling into his mouth so he could taste how happy he made you. 

maybe drunk satoru was good. 

you pulled away. 

“we have to go home, babe,”

satoru hummed in disapproval, dramatically turning out towards the window in defiance. 

“why don’t you love me?”

a little giggle escaped you at his pouting. always so dramatic. 

“sorry, you’re right,” you giggled. you reached for his hand as you began to drive, “i’ll be more considerate in the future,”

“please and thank you,” 

his actions weren’t matching his words. while he threw one of his appropriately nicknamed “toru tantrums,” his fingers found their way to your thigh as he took hold for an ounce of affection. 

you’re convinced he’d explode if he wasn’t touching you for one second. 

the rest of the drive home was uneventful. every five minutes or so, satoru would say “pull over, i’m gonna throw up,” only to follow up with “false alarm!” 

it was hard to believe him after the third time. 

luckily, you both got home in one piece—with no vomit anywhere in sight. you’d consider that a win. 

you help satoru out of the car, his eyes barely open as the two of you walk back into your apartment. 

he quickly turned away from you, throwing up in a bush in the garden outside your building. you rubbed his back gently, trying to soothe him without getting sick yourself. 

it passed, as it always does. but he looks pale, drained, and just a little bit pathetic. 

“i’m just glad it didn’t happen in the car,” he says flatly. 

rather than kicking him while he’s down, you opted for being doting and sweet. 

“feelin’ better now, sweetie?” 

satoru swallows hard, leaning his weight onto you as he struggles to keep his eyes open. 

“i’m never drinking again,”

at least he’s honest, you think, you had to give him that. 

“let’s get to bed, satoru,” you laugh, “i’ll take care of you, ‘kay?”

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