#fuck this chest congestion

[bittersweetblasphemy]

im sick af

[clickbeetle]

sorry for so much pt posting but i cannot believe i spent YEARS going to doctors being like “what’s wrong with me? why am i always congested? why do my shoulders burn? why am i always tired and in pain?” and they were like idk man. take some vitamins i guess.

and the first day i see a physical therapist they were immediately like “oh yeah here’s the root of your problems. do these things and they should go away.” it’s been two weeks and i feel better than i’ve ever felt in years.

[goofballproximitysurveyor]

ugh i don’t have covid and dont have a fever or anything but im so congested just standing and walking around normally has me out of breath so i’m down two work shifts right before break :( less fun money for me

[gophergal]

Welcome to Summer Cold Part 2: Draining Again

[trashbaget]

i feel so fucking ILL!!!

[fantabulisticity]

GROSS NOISES BELOW:

This is what it sounds like, btw -- I breathed a little harder and deeper so the purring/snorting sound would be loud enough to hear on my phone mic. That sound is coming from my lower throat and chest. I'm not snoring -- there's just that much congestion in there. Fun times!

[capetowncapers]

Vicks vaporub beloved…. *patrickmoan.png*

[thetrinitytest]

i have covid

[plumberrypudding]

ok wtf is this. sunday morning, felt totally fine, kind of weird but nothing that made me seriously concerned. by sunday night i had a fever and one hell of a runny nose, Definitely Sick. no cough though, or literally anything other than 1) mild but significant fever and 2) congested as hell. had trouble sleeping, woke up monday morning feeling kinda better but mostly the same. by monday evening, tho, i was feeling largely perfectly fine. by tuesday i was well enough to go to class (i’ve been masking w surgical grade). that was LAST WEEK so WHY the hell did i, on wednesday, develop a cough that i didn’t have at all while i was Properly Sick that i STILL. HAVE.

[thecoochiefairy]

sniffles. suguru getou.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 blackfem!reader, drabble/headcannon, sick!suguru, grumpy!suguru, sweet!suguru,submissive!suguru, dominant! suguru, roleplay, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, size kink, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i’m just horny. sorry y’all.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: suguru is sick, and you, his girlfriend—just wants to nurse him back to health.

You should’ve brought your key. 

Standing across from the door, you impatiently knock again, waiting for your boyfriend to open it. With an unfortunate cold, he’d crawl for dramatics. Suguru was currently suffering with a deadly indignation— his allergies, and you knew that as soon as he felt sick, he was practically on his deathbed. He was already grumpy on a regular basis. His intimidating frame, dark hair and tattoos made him almost scary. But that’s what you loved, you weren’t afraid of what came with him. Here you were, knocking on his door as you awaited for him to answer, holding the bag of medicine and soup he requested.

You roll your eyes as you hear shuffling along the door, yet it doesn’t open. 

You then press impatiently, “C’mon, Suguru. You’re not gonna die from walking to the door.”

When the door opens, his broad frame towers over yours, black sweatshirt desperately trying to hide his muscular build, hair wrapped in a bun that nearly fell apart. His strident jaw glares down at you, glasses tilting as his eyes squint beneath the light of the sun. You notice the redness in his nose. 

You tilt your head as you greet, “Hey, Sexy,” jokingly seeing his appearance. 

He glares at you, his eyes showing no emotion. His allergies were hitting him hard and it was obvious. He was not a whiny man. But in sickness, he would not hide his complaints.

“Shut the fuck up,” He says with a grumble, opening the door wider to let you in nonetheless.

You hold the brown paper bag to your chest, walking in as you turn to him with a soft smile,  “I got you some stuff, my little sick pumpkin.” 

“I told you I didn’t want all that Mucinex and shit,” he grumbles, flopping himself along the couch, throwing his arms over his face with a groan. 

“Oh boy, hush. I told you that it’ll open up your sinuses. Why so grumpy?”

“My ears hurt—all that fuckin’ mouth you got, it’s making my head hurt too,” He says bluntly. 

 Was he being a little mean? Sure. That didn’t stop you—he didn’t want to admit it yet, but he loved being babied by you, and you knew that. He rolls onto his side, facing away from you as he mumbles something under his breath. Despite his protests, he was happy you were there. He missed you.

“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you turn your head, “Maybe I’ll go back home. Leave you to die in your congestion.” 

He freezes at your words, the thought of you leaving and not staying by his side made him want to throw a tantrum. He scoffs and looks away, trying to mask his real feelings.

“Do it then. I don’t need your little ass.”

You roll your eyes. Coming closer, you hop yourself along his lap as his arms are still thrown over his face, the impact making him groan. 

You sigh sarcastically, “Poor baby…”

You then smack his arm, “Get the fuck up, Getou. Come take this medicine before I hurt you.” 

He grunts at the feeling of you on his lap, peeking behind his arm to fully see you. 

“Why should I?”

“Because I have a surprise for you,” you lean into his ear, voice warm and soft, “Don’t you wanna see it?” 

He hums at your words, his ears picking up on the word ‘surprise’. He turns to look at you with a slight look of confusion. 

“Maybe I do.” He says, his stubborn attitude slowly leaving.

He holds you around your waist with ease, leaning into your affection. Your nurturing aura made him soften his attitude, allowing you to finally take care of him.

He lets out a low grumble before correcting, “Hey, pretty baby.” 

“See? All you had to do was be nice,” you kiss his nose, “Hi,” you then say softly, exhaling as you stand from his lap, “Stay here. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll be back!” 

He grunts, allowing you to get up from his lap with no complaints. He missed you again. Nonetheless, he turns on his side, laying down along the couch as he waits for you to come back. 

Time passes, the impatience of this man making him sit up along the sofa, manspreading with his head back along the velvet material. As he thought about going up to check on you, he heard your voice. 

“Still sick, baby?”

You stand at the door—now in a completely different outfit. Wearing a white button up dress that clings to your frame, it looks to be a nurse’s uniform. It’s sheer, showing all your skin beneath the material, a heart along the chest pocket, your breasts nearly spilling from the top buttons that desperately hold them up. Your heels were tall, red bottoms matching the outfit you wear.

 “Are you ready for me to take care of you?” 

His eyes lock along your frame, tracing up and down your body hungrily in approval. His mouth went dry at the sight of your curves in the dress.

“You’re gonna’ be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?”

His eyes scan you all the way down to your shoes before he tells you, “Come here.”

You giggle, “You shouldn’t be speaking to me like that, silly. I’m your nurse!” 

You twist your hips as you come forward, pulling the stethoscope from around your neck as you insist, “Now, tell me what’s going on with you, Mr…Getou, is it?”

You looked good enough to eat in that nurse's uniform.

You were right though. You were his nurse. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his legs wider to give you enough room to move between them. 

He smirks at your comment, his body shifting up against the couch more. He plays along with you as well.

“Yes, it is.” He says, placing a hand on his chest, “I have a really high fever, I need extra care.”

You gasp softly, “A fever? I’m so sorry to hear that!” You shake your head, “May I…check where you feel warm?” You tilt your head, dark wavy hair flowing down to your hip, swaying over your shoulder.

His smirk grows at your words, raising an eyebrow in amusement. He invites, “Go ahead,” watching your soft curls dangle in front of your face.

He moves his body closer, his large frame hovering near you. He rests one hand on the back of the couch, the other coming to rest on the nape of your neck.

You lean closer,  pressing your hand against his forehead, “Mmm, feels a little warm here…” you then move it to his neck, “Feels a little warm here as well. What symptoms are you experiencing?”

He leans his head into your touch on his forehead, letting out a sigh from the contact. He then leans his head back, exposing his neck to you, Adam’s apple throbbing. He lets out a low grunt after feeling your hand on it.

“I’m experiencing dizziness, a sore throat...” He takes a moment to speak again, “And I feel very hot in certain places.”

“Hot…” you tsks, “Sounds painful. I think you may need some ice.” 

You stand from the sofa, going over to the fridge to grab a cup of ice as you ask, “You’re very…handsome, Mr. Getou. Do you have a girlfriend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He watched you walk away from him, admiring the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips. He let out a low chuckle at your question, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, I do,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you.

You lean yourself into the fridge, twisting your hips as you sigh, “That’s too bad…the good ones are always taken, it seems.”

His lips curl into a smirk at your comment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He watches you closely, studying every movement you make.

"I guess it depends on who you ask.”

You raise an eyebrow, “A bad boy, it seems.” 

“Shit. Might be.” 

You close the fridge as you have some ice water within your hand, making your way back towards him. 

“Sorry it took so long—“ 

It’s swift, you’re good at your game. You purposely trip, the ice water splashing all over your dress. 

You gasp, watching as the water soaks into the top of your dress, nipples poking through the material, completely exposing your bare chest. 

“Oh my goodness, Mr. Getou. I’m so sorry…” 

You lean down, beginning to wipe the floor with the napkin you hold. Your movements are natural as you arch your back, heels pointing towards the ceiling.

He felt his dick jump as you leaned down to clean. He swallows hard, his eyes fixated on you.

“‘Need to be more careful,” He warns you, his voice growing huskier.

“I’m so clumsy…” you pout, “…A patient of mine has never made me this nervous,” you admit with a weak smile, grabbing for the ice that’s still within the cup. 

You slow your movements, still in a crawling position as you look up to him, “Are you still feeling…hot?”

He smirks at your words, his body instinctively reacting to yours. He can feel himself getting harder under his pants, his breath hitching in anticipation.

“Hot as fuck. Damn near in hell.”

“I apologize…Let me help you cool down.” 

You’re a minx. Taking an ice cube within your mouth, you come forward, crawling your way onto his lap. You take him by his hair and tug his head back, leaning forward, running the ice along his neck, allowing the ice to melt within your mouth as you drag your tongue along his throat.

You murmur, “Is that better?”

His breath hitches as you crawl onto his lap, his body stiffening under your touch. He lets out a low growl at the sensation of the ice melting in your mouth, the coolness seeping into his heated skin.

"That's..." He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of pleasure, "That's definitely helping."

Your mouth is still cold, moving down his chest, eyes still upon his as you say, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate me assisting you in this way, Mr. Getou…”

"Fuck," he groans, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you farther onto his lap.

He lets out a low growl at your words, his grip slightly tightens in your hair. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and possessive as he replies. 

“She’ll understand. You’re taking very good care of me...” He says, his other hand sliding up your leg, feeling your bare skin.

You laugh, sultry to his ears. You then bring your mouth up to his jaw, stopping right at his lips as you hum, “What if I had a boyfriend…and he killed for me…”

His eyes narrow at your words, a dangerous glint flashing in them. He tightens his grip in your hair slightly, pulling your head back and away from his face. 

"You'd let me kill him?"

“…Maybe,” your breath hitches, melting into his hands like putty. 

“Then he’d have to put up a good ass fight.” He replies, his voice challenging. He pulls your head back even more, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear. “And I don’t lose.”

You’d never done role play before, not expecting him to play along like he was. Despite him not feeling well, he seemed to be enjoying your game. His tone makes you giggle, pulling your face down as you lock your mouth against his, dirtily making out with him, tongue struck out, messily pressing with his.

He let out a groan as your lips crashed against his, the feeling of your tongue in his mouth made him growl and become more aggressive. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as he greedily kisses you back.

He breaks the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he looks down at you. "You're fuckin’ sexy when you're like this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

The moment you go to respond, his hands clasps both of your wrists behind your back, trapping you in a way that makes you pout. You enjoyed the feeling of being in control, but you knew he always needed the upper hand. 

You roll your eyes, “That’s not fair…”

“Cut that fuckin’ attitude before you don’t get anything from me.”

He uses his other hand to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. Leaning forward, he presses his lips along the side of your throat and begins sucking on the skin.

You gasp softly at his lips along your skin, knowing the skin of your neck was sensitive. You breathily sigh, “S—Suguru…” tugging at your trapped hands, wanting to be freed. 

“You want your hands?”

You nod your head, feeling his other hand now tugging at your hair, sliding down as yanks the material of the dress you wear, spanking the skin of your ass. Your teeth dig into your lips at his aggression, your skin feeling on fire. 

“Say out loud what you want.”

You refuse to give in to him, your voice going silent in defiance. He knew exactly what you were doing.

Hm, okay. 

His eyes were low as he watched you—evil. He leaned you upwards, his free hand gripping the blood red panties you wore, tugging them to the side, hearing the squelch of your opening that’s throbbing for his attention. 

You then feel the heaviness of his dick slap along your ass, fat tip nudging at your folds, making you swallow. You want to protest. But it’s too late— he’s already dropping you down, skin sticking together from your arousal that pulls along his thighs. He’s deep, pinching your insides uncomfortably, overthrown by a rush of devilishly itching pleasure. 

He brought his face closer to yours, lips hovering over his mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, head tilting back as a sharp gasp left your lips, dropping your face back down to his as you whimpered.

“Always so stubborn,” he grunts, your hips fully connected, raising you forward and dropping you down again, dreading the pleasure it brings you. He thrusts himself deeper inside of you, gripping your face as you want to hide the warmth in your cheeks, “Nah. You wanted this," he growls, his voice low and rough.

Another gasp pulls from your lips, wrists tugging beneath his as you whimper in a pleading way, calling for him, “B—Baby…” 

“Nah, what happened to Mr. Getou? I’m baby now?” Suguru says within your ear.

Your chest rises hastily as pleasure raptures through your body, wanting to touch him, wanting to dig your fingers through his hair. You needed it. 

“Don’t wanna hear all that whining shit,” His free hand reaches between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as he continues to drill you senseless, “Came over here in this little fuckin’ dress. Bounce on my dick like you love it.”

“Sorry, baby…” you whine, his own strength having full control of you, unable to do anything but release moans from your lips, watching the way your body bounces atop of him—all from his one fist holding your hands. 

He lets out a low chuckle as you apologize, enjoying the sound of your moans. He moves his head back, watching the way your body moves up and down in his lap. He could feel his body getting hotter and hotter.

“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grunts, his voice thick with lust. He keeps a firm grip on your wrists, watching you squirm against him.

“…Mmm….fuck…”  you curse, your head tilting back, hair moving with you, “W—wait, baby…I…wanna touch you…please…”

"Touch me where?" he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm fuckin’ deep inside you."

He gives your wrists another squeeze, keeping them pinned behind you. He continues to thrust up into you, feeling your pussy tighten around his dick.

"’Getting tight as fuck, baby. Open up. Need you to relax. Let me fuck you. Beg a little harder, too. You can do better,” He demands, his grip on your wrists tightening even more.

“So mean…” you mewl, “‘Know I like touching you…”

You try to gain control, but he’s stronger. He uses one hand to hold you down, dropping you up and down ruthlessly, his other hand readjusting your legs to where your feet are planted on both sides of his legs, evil again in trapping you like this. 

“You like when I’m mean. Admit that shit.”

It’s like a dam had broken out into a river, your mouth dropping open as no noise released for a moment. You then brokenly moan, gasping deeply as you begin talking to him, “You’re in control baby. Love it when you’re in control….don’t stop….o—oh my….baby…baby…”

He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. He leans his head forward, his lips just barely touching the side of your jaw.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he says lowly, “Begging and squirming on my lap.” He lets out a low growl. “So desperate.” 

He thrusts up into you harder, faster, driving himself deeper inside of you. He can feel your wetness coating his length, the slick sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room.

“Fuck, baby...you're creaming, such a pretty fuckin’ sight,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. He reaches up, grabbing onto your breast roughly, squeezing it in his hands.

“So desperate,” you repeat, “…Need to touch you baby, please. Please. Please.”  

He watches as your eyes roll back, a low growl leaving his lips. He lets go of your wrists completely, moving both of his hands down to grip your hips.

“I’m hot, Nurse, I need you to take care of me.” His fingers dig into your skin, needing you to touch him. “Help me.”

This is all you wanted. You wrap your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into his hair as you lean your jaw into his cheek, positioning yourself to pleasure him. Your lips are directly by his ear as you begin to raise up your hips before dropping them down, your moans becoming infinitely louder the second you do so.

"Ooh, shit. That’s fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he roughly spanks you, the sound echoing against the apartment. "Taking care of me so well." He grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements on top of him.

"…Fuck...you're so wet..." he grunts, feeling your pussy clench around him again. He thrusts up into you harder, meeting each of your downward motions. He can’t stop talking to you. 

"Oh my fuckin’ god, baby...that feels so good," he groans, his head falling back against the couch.

Your eyes well with pleasurable tears, a soft sob coming from your lips as you bounce on top of him, eyes fluttering back into your head as you messily moan,  “Ohhh…my god. Baby…I…agh….baby….”

He listens to your pleas, his breathing heavy and ragged. He can't help but smile, hearing how desperate you are for him.

"You're so fuckin’ sexy, baby," he groans, gripping your hips tightly. "Ride me good, baby. Make yourself squirt all on my dick. Know how good that feels for you,” He thrusts up into you harder, his tip throbbing inside.

He moves one of his hands, gripping the back of your head and bringing your lips to his mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he continues to guide you.

You attempt to kiss him back, your mouth relaxed under his, still open as you moan loudly, tears sprayed against your cheeks as you bounce even harder on top of him, skin creating a loud sound. You feel like you could go into shock at the way your eyes roll, your chest heaving as your nails dig into his back.

 When your hips raise, you feel yourself beginning to squirt, gasping, walls quelling as you drop back down, “T—Talk to me, baby… need to hear your voice. Love your voice. So fucking…” you whine loudly, “Pretty.”  

He feels your tears against his cheek as he kisses you, moans filling his ears and driving him wild. He pulls you up as he runs his fingers against your core, sliding them deep into you as he groans, slamming them in to feel your walls retract, gushing out more as you continue to squirt. Your face is red, unable to breathe properly as he pulls them out to spank you, “Need you to do that shit again. Gonna make you.” 

When he kisses your cries into his mouth, he remembers your plea. He reluctantly pulls his lips from yours, his own breath heavy and ragged. “My voice?” he asks, his hand grip tightening in your hair. “You want me to talk, baby?”

You nod your head, tears falling from your eyes in complete euphoria as you whimper deeply, “Yes, baby…” you hiccup, “Yes. Yeahh. Yes.” 

“You like how I sound, baby?” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “You like how I talk?” He pulls you head back, exposing your neck. “You like how I moan?”

“Love it,” you groan, swirling your hips around to prove your point, “Love it so. Fucking…” you can barely get out your words, gasping through them, “So much, baby…” back to whimpering, more tears falling. 

He can feel himself getting closer, needing you just as much as you needed him.

“I’m gonna need you to take care of me a little more,” he moans in your ear, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. “You know how to take care of me, baby…I need you to.”

Your legs feel like they’re going numb, at this point, you feel like you’re about to black out. The feeling of you slowing down makes him grunt irritatedly. 

Just like that, he switches your position swiftly to where you bend along the sofa, Suguru now behind you. He twists your hair in his fist, slamming back inside making you gasp out. You reach behind yourself to where he snatches your hands behind your back.

His thrusts become erratic, his hips slapping against your ass hard enough to leave red prints on your skin. He tightens his hold on your hair, pulling your head back further to expose your neck.

"I'm close, baby," he growls in your ear, nipping at your lobe. "Gonna fill you up so good."

He grinds his length against your folds, teasing you mercilessly before he thrusts back inside, hitting spots that make you squeal. He fucks you hard, his thrusts rough and unyielding.

“You know just how I like it, don’t you baby?” he leans his head forward, his lip right next to your ear. “You’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything, baby,” you groan. 

The groan hums out into a long moan, your back arching beneath him, feeling as his hand clasps your throat from behind to keep you in place.

He’s relentless, taking a moment to lean down as he tells you, “Haven’t ate my pussy, baby. Need that shit.” 

He’s still holding your wrists, leaning down as he locks his mouth around your core, swirling his head in circles, groaning as he dips his tongue in and out of you just to taste how in love you were with him.

His lips pull away from your pussy, a wet pop sounding through the room as he does. He releases your wrists, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. With a loud growl, he thrusts back inside of you, his dick filling you completely.

"You're mine," he grunts, biting down gently on your shoulder. "Only ever been mine."

He leans himself up to where your body is beneath his, tilting your neck back to where you’re forced to look up at him from behind. His chin lays along your forehead as your mouth is parted open, hips shaking at his rough connection from his hips. 

You tremble, “Oh my god, baby. Oh my god….”

Your sounds are almost animalistic as you grunt, panting as it shrills into a deep cry, entire body shaking, hearing as that makes him arrogantly chuckle. 

He grips at your hair, his mouth hovering over your ear. “You love it when I make you feel this way, baby?”

Your eyes are closed as you sob, talking through each connection of your hips, twisting your neck around and watching his movements as you quiver out, “Yes, baby…don’t stop. Don’t stop, please…please…pleasee.” 

“You want me to keep going, baby?” he groans, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Cumming…cumming….baby…oh…oh…fuckkk.” 

You swallow, gasping as you dig your nails into the sofa. Your entire body falls apart, barely moving as your hips completely halt, trembling as your body explodes in raptures. Your arousal gushes out again—it practically seeps through his thrusts. His hand tightens around your throat as you groan, clutching your eyes shut as you sob out, body shaking as if you’ve been tased.

His thrusts slow down, becoming more sensual rather than rough. He can feel your pussy clench around him, milking him for everything he's worth. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts loudly, his cum shooting out in thick spurts as he buries himself deep within you.

You’re both breathing heavily, feeling the intensity of your session. Suguru’s unable to help himself as his palm slams on your ass again, leaving you to only whimper in response, making him chuckle.

“I’m sensitive…” you muffle against the sofa, hiding your warm face as you awkwardly laugh to yourself.

Suguru chuckles darkly, rolling off of you to lay beside you. He reaches over, running a hand through your hair soothingly. "Sorry, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "Didn't mean to hit too hard."

You peak back, “Oh, now you’re all nice to me? Thought you were sick, huh? Lying ass.”

Like clockwork, he’s back to his usual grumpiness. He spanks you again, ducking the swing you give him at that as he says, “Yeah, whatever. Maybe pussy was my medicine. Now come give me that stupid ass mucinex.”

“Fuck you. Do it your damn self.”

“I love you too.”

[curlyfriesgalore]

"let it all out, baby."

you've been dating daisuke for a while, already growing accustomed to his body and behavior, but something was off. nothing break-up-worthy, far from it, but you're a little concerned with how quiet he's been in bed.

so one "night," when swansea is too drunk out of his mind, anya is busy caring for curly, and jimmy is doing fuck all, you and daisuke spend some quality time in your room, which miraculously survives the foam.

one thing led to another, and now you're giving him head. however, as much as you want to get lost in your lust, you can't help but focus on his face—not out of your usual affection, but to analyze him.

★ a smut-shot broken down into bullets with dialogue sectioned off into chat-format segments. [2,697 words]

☆ gen tags: post-crash. gn! reader is anya's intern, but your job isn't mentioned in the fic (it's just for lore's sake). daisuke is insecure in his masculinity (some angst). set in our year all because i reference one meme lol.

★ nsfw tags MDNI: dom reader. sub daisuke. fellatio and a handjob. neck biting and nipple sucking. so much whimpering!!!

[ahh, posting again because i found a fic i made for another character two years ago, so i decided to rework it! i was actually really glad to find this 'cause i've been wanting to write daisuke smut, but currently my nsfw drafts are all curly. art by washitquickly on twt —iris🌠]

daisuke squirms as you lap your tongue around the head of his velvety dick, your spit blending with his sweet and sour slick. he digs his gapped teeth deep into his chapped lip. his mouth is in a tight crease, eyes squished shut with brows deep in concentration, wrinkling his lightly pimpled forehead.

he looks so out of breath, yet zilch emerges from that man's mouth. you wonder if your skills have worsened since the crash. maybe it was stress? but no, you knew that couldn't've been the case. your licks have always made him involuntarily writhe in pleasure, and your breath alone was enough to make precum shoot out of his soft slit.

speaking of which, you did exactly that, and a high-pitched moan ensues, finally.

you groan along with him, feeling his clear fluid slide down your throat. when your voice vibrates its low hum, shivers trickle down daisuke's aching cock. it's enough for him to jolt, flutter his eyes open, and mewl out a squeaky whimper.

you look up in awe, expecting to see your loverboy in pure ecstasy, but your heart drops. all you see is his hand clamped over his mouth, eyes wide in horror: the farthest thing from rapture.

gently, you remove yourself, the sensation of smooth skin lingering in your mouth as a trail of saliva connects your lip to his tip. with your hands still on his thighs, you felt him tremble under your palms.

daisuke pulls his legs towards his chest, encasing them within his arms as he buries half his face into his knees. his brows dent into his temple. he mumbles what sounds like an apology and wipes his face against his hinge joints. worry washes away your arousal in an instant.

carefully, you unfold his arms, spreading his legs to reveal the gorgeous mess you so deeply love. you crawl on top of him, resting your stomach on his, feeling his liquid lather onto your abdomen as you softly cradle his chin, bringing his face to yours.

as you thumb away the tiny tears dripping down his acne-scarred cheeks, he carefully brings his gaze to you, revealing the sea of tears swimming in his dark eyes. daisuke looks like a sad puppy, hurt and desperate for his partner's forgiveness, yet you are unsure as to why he's reacting this way.

he tries to gulp down the cries congested in his throat, attempting to force an explanation, but his reasons refuse to be revealed. for a man who spoke so many words, he felt too embarrassed to say any.

so, rather than letting him hurt himself any further, you envelop his warm body in your arms. daisuke silently melts as you comb your fingers through his sweaty hair, caressing his scalp as you try to piece things together. you think back to all the times you guys have had sex.

time and time again, you remember how quietly he'd finish. no matter how intensely his body shook from your touch, nothing but a small sigh would leave his panting chest. daisuke could be a puddle of sweat, drool coating his chin, eyes rolled all the way back as he failed to wait for your cue to let him cum all over your stomach—and yet, the only thing missing were the sounds of his moans.

you didn't question it at first, assuming he was, ironically enough, a quiet guy in bed, but things weren't adding up.

whenever you sneak attack his sides, tickling the air out of him, daisuke would shriek as if he'd witnessed the murder of his favorite pokémon. his face contorts into the physical embodiment of the 'ash baby.'

then there was another time, a month before the crash, when it was jimmy's turn for movie night. the co-pilot pulled up with his favorite horror film, intending to creep the skin off of everyone, and it nearly did for daisuke. he screeched so hard, practically ripping your eardrums, and lunged himself onto you, toppling the others over like dominoes on the couch.

(you recall a very tired captain curly lecturing a sheepish daisuke, telling him to be more careful with his surroundings, as anya aided swansea's sore back while jimmy snickered to himself next to you).

countless times proved how reactive he was, besides the obvious fact that this man does not have an off button. so, for him to be completely silent during sex didn't make any sense.

well, he wasn't completely. you've heard his soft moans and hushed whimpers escape from daisuke, unbeknownst to him, but you knew he could be much louder than that.

like, hello? he's the daisuke juarez, the guy (in)famously known for talking on and on for days without fail; surely, he could groan the life out of his lungs.

because, clearly, he wants to.

he needs to.

but you didn't know why he was so adamant about being super quiet. you wanted an answer so you wouldn't have to constantly try to get a read on his suppressions. and, by the looks of it, you're about to get one.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you cup his face and caress his warm jaw. daisuke delicately places his hand on top of yours and strokes it back, rolling his thumb against your knuckles.

"can we talk now?" your question drifts into the soft rumbles of the ship.

daisuke carefully nods, one last garbled sob croaking out his throat before he responds, "y-yeah..."

"tell me. what's wrong, baby?" you ask softly as your hand dances around his face, your fingers tracing his features, wet from tears.

"um, do i..." daisuke pauses, briefly breathing in some much-needed air, "do i sound weird when i—y'know—uh, moan...?" he leans his cheek into your palm, and you feel the bumpy indentations in his skin flush into yours. his sights are set on everything but you.

your brows knit, but clarity relaxes the knot in your shoulders. "d'aww, baby..." you pout. "is that what this is?" daisuke, slowly attempting to match your eyes, purses his lips with another nod.

shaking your head, you bring his chin closer to yours, "no, no... not at all, dai." you press your lips into his pursed ones, tenderly transferring your love to him and relieving his tight kiss into its original plumpness. you pull away, resting your forehead against his, "i've always found them very cute..."

"if anything," you chuckle, "i wish you moaned more." finally, he looks at you, and you're met with wide eyes and lifted brows, "really?"

now it's your turn to quirk your brow. "of course, really! what makes you think i'd feel otherwise?" daisuke laughs at that and eats his lips, looking up at the metal ceiling as he sifts through his memory box.

"well- i don't know, i mean, back on earth," you catch a brief dullness in his gaze, "i once heard the girls in my class talk about how weird some guys sound when they moan, and like," daisuke drums his fingers on your forearm, "when i asked, they'd say any dude who sounded too much like them?" when he looks at you, he falters, "ach- how do i say it?"

your eyes narrow, struggling to understand that train of thought. daisuke frowned, not at you but at the following words, "it was something like 'oh! men who whimper are soOo icky to me' and 'dudes should sound deep, not like...'" daisuke winces, heaving a frustrated sigh as he continues to mimic those girls. "'...whatever weak subby boy bullshit that's been circulating online—' i know, it's stupid." he immediately stops when he sees your grimace.

you blink your eyes shut, shaking your head and sighing when you peel them open. "so," your hand wipes over your mouth. "you ended up adopting that?" you ask, tucking your thumb under your chin as your index rests on your bottom lip, elbow propped up on one knee.

"i mean, sort of?" daisuke moves his hands to rub circles on your bare sides, "when i realized that i moan like," daisuke air quotes, "a 'weak subby boy,' i got really embarrassed and well- forced myself to sound more like a man, i guess..." the shame in his face, apparent.

you hum, taking in the information as he continues to explain his insecurities. daisuke tells you all the times he's been egged on by his guy friends for how he sounds when he'd whine after getting hit by a baseball ball (when that shit HURTS for anybody, daisuke emphasizes) or how often his friend group would point out his squeals, joking about how he'd never get laid with a voice like that. the thing is, he consciously understands that his classmates are biased individuals, so daisuke knows that there's no real point for him to act all secretive with his sounds. but he can't help it. he worries that letting himself just... be himself, in this context specifically, might make you find him less attractive.

"hUH?!" you exclaim, making daisuke jump. you're so baffled that you grab his face and squish his cheeks with all the affection your squeeze can imbue. he looks at you, doe-eyed with lips puffed out like a fish. "i—first of all, what an absolutely shitty thing to say to your friend, let alone do it daily. and second of all, not every man moans the same. just 'cause yours is a little higher doesn't make you any less of one..." he attempts to defend them, wanting to say that they weren't that bad, but you hush him, reading through his lie before he could assess it himself. then, when you rationalize his insecurity, he tightens his lip, taking in your opinion as you continued to speak against the toxicity of his friends. noticing he's gone quiet, you rub his cheek, changing your tone into something much softer. "daisuke."

"yesh...?"

as your serious stare delves deep into his soul, you reassure him, "there is no one—and i mean, no one—in this universe that i love more than you."

"oomph, i shink your beftfriends whould be mhad if they hurd thath." daisuke jokes, and you roll your eyes, shushing him as you stifle your laugh, "hey, i'm being serious here...!" to which daisuke chuckles and nods for you to continue, mouthing an 'i love you, too.'

you sigh, "your whimpers... are the cutest, most adorable noises i'll ever hear in my life, and i don't want you to shut them up, ever. i mean it."

"mph- reallhy?" the innocence in his voice made you squish the sides of his face harder as you hummed in agreement, "really."

"i want to hear them," you take a moment to sit up, straddling his thighs as you wrap your fingers around his dick, it instantly springs. "over... and over... and over again." with every pause, you stroke him. your palm tugs at his cock from the hairs on his abdomen to his soaked tip. daisuke chokes out a gasp, his legs squirming as he gulps, "a-ah, fuck... baby." his body trembles, randomly jerking with every drag of his thick cock.

"nothing will ever change the way i see you," you press your lips onto his jaw, feeling the tiniest stubble. "how sweet you are, how handsome you look, or how good you sound to me." you trail kisses down his neck, and latch onto the edge of his adam's apple, nibbling a whimper out of him.

"if anything, your moans make me love you even more than i already do." as you peck along his chest, his whines squeal breathlessly, and his whimpers exceed his vocal cords. every compliment you throw at him sends his brain into autopilot.

"ngh, mh..." none of daisuke's words made any sense, his mouth melding into mush while yours formed dark hickeys on all his right spots. he was panting uncontrollably. looking down at you with those half-lidded eyes of his, ones leaking with so much love and lust. he grips the sheets with one hand while the other carefully combes through your hair.

your mouth was now at level with his nipple. you watch it harden in anticipation as he edges his chest a little closer to your lips, making you chuckle at how needy your boyfriend's gotten. "now, before i let you cum, i want you to be as loud as you possibly can be, okay? for me, baby."

he nods, loving your coos, but uncertainty nearly cockblocks him, "w-wait, babe, what if everyone hears me?" daisuke watches you huff a laugh, "like anyone's cared about us fucking before." you both chuckle, and daisuke relaxes, "oh right, hehe."

"even if someone hears," you lightly circle his nipple, the tiny bumps on its dark epidermis sliding so perfectly against your thumb. daisuke's dick twitches, already biting his lip at the sight of your tongue inches away from his chest's nub. you continue, breathing hot on daisuke's skin. "they get to know how beautiful my baby boy sounds in bed."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke's breathing gradually quickens at the heat. when you finally lick his nipple, his cry is instantaneous. it's the prettiest noise you've ever heard, pulling at your heartstrings as a rush surges through your abdomen.

you close your eyes and focus on stroking his dick with every lick you make, his adorable moans filling the air. the way you roll your fingers and wedge them on the damp head, massaging the precum out his slit, melts daisuke, turning him into a pathetic, panting puddle in your arms. he absentmindedly ruts into your hand out of pure pleasure, sliding his slick all over your skin.

soon enough, his whimpers peaked, his voice consuming the room. you knew he was reaching his high based on the synchronization of his thrusts and your pumps. bed sheets crumple under his fist, and his other hand no longer on your hair but on the small of your back, squeezing your waist as he tries to travel down to knead your ass.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"babe, i'm close...! i'm so close." daisuke blabbers between mewls, his hands clutching onto your hips for support. he spills all of him into your palms, creating a wet patch underneath his thighs. you intensify your already vigorous pumping, simultaneously pinching a nipple as you bite the other, "come on, baby... you're almost there." "i'm cumming—fuck— 'm cumm...ing, nghnghm! ohmygod...!" intense shudders siphon through daisuke's bloodstream, his whole body convulsing as he feels his milk bud, moments away from dripping out his sore slit. "let it all out, baby." you coo, tonguing his nipple with your wet love.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

with one final groan, his cum drenches your hand as he arches his back so far that it nearly sends you falling. all that fills your ears are the sounds of your boyfriend's sweet sobs, easing into an aching sigh.

after tugging his cock with a few more strokes, daisuke collapses further into the bed, his head lying so far back into the pillow that you can see his adam's apple bob after every gasp and gulp. your lips leave his nipple, and he shivers from the cold air hitting his wet skin.

as he's catching his breath, you stretch your back and crane your spine far enough to feel every bubble in your ligament pop down your bones. after rolling your neck side to side, you get a good look at daisuke, who is disheveled and disoriented.

you chuckle and lift his head up, daisuke's teary eyes akin to those of a desperate puppy. you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth, swallowing his sweetness, and daisuke watches, thirsty for a taste.

smiling at the drool dripping down his puffy lips, you bring your face to him, gracing him with a smooch. the kiss muffles his deep moan. his tongue explores yours, devouring his own dick with what lingers on your papillae.

daisuke pouts when you pull away, but before he whines, you wrap your hands behind his neck, sitting yourself up and pulling him into your chest. he sighs into the hug, embracing you as much as he physically can while you massage his wet and messy hair. you kiss his scalp and softly praise him for being such a good boy.

[i was going to expand on the post crash aspect but i got wayyy too tired. but know that the story was originally going to have an afab reader, where you ride daisuke till he cums inside you, so i'd then add a line about how you couldn't care less about getting bred 'cause you were probably dying on the tulpar, anyway 😭 so it was going to be a LOT more angsty. i also intended to write a segment (after he admits his insecurity) of him missing earth and the structure of a home so badly that he's developed a mommy kink, so i could use it later when you guys go back to sexing buuut oopsies. i'll save that for another time 🫠. —iris🌠]

[libingan]

—how the tf141 are like when they’re sick.

im sick. that’s literally my only motivation to write this.

i feel like absolute shit but holy fuck i wanted to write this so pls enjoy

no horny juice rn, so its all fluff

JOHN PRICE

when price gets sick, it’s almost like he’s in denial about it. he’s the type to downplay everything—says it’s just a little cough, just a bit of a sore throat. but then, as the fever starts creeping up, you see the cracks in his usual solid demeanor. he’s flushed, his breathing a bit labored, and when you gently place the back of your hand on his forehead, he swats you away at first, grumbling that he’s fine.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice steady. but the cough that rattles through his chest betrays him, and eventually, even he can’t deny it anymore.

you coax him into bed, tucking the blankets around his broad frame, and he grumbles under his breath about how ridiculous this all is. he’s not used to being taken care of—he’s the captain, the one in charge, and letting someone fuss over him isn’t in his nature. but there’s a moment when you bring him some tea, and he accepts it quietly, his eyes softening just a little as he watches you.

“i’ve had worse,” he rasps, his voice thick with congestion, but when you sit beside him, he leans into the warmth of your presence, even if he won’t admit it. he tries to stay in control, tries to ask about your day or if there’s any work that needs to be done, but you can see how tired he is. when he finally gives in to sleep, his hand rests loosely on yours, a silent acknowledgment that he’s glad you’re there, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK

gaz is the worst when he’s sick, and he knows it. he tries to be strong about it, but the minute the fever sets in, he’s a mess of sniffles, groans, and dramatic sighs. you find him sprawled out on the couch, a blanket barely covering him as he flips through channels, looking utterly miserable.

“i feel like death,” he complains when you sit next to him, and despite the obvious exaggeration, he looks pitiful enough that you can’t help but smile. he’s not usually one to be overly needy, but when he’s sick? he’s all about the attention.

you bring him some soup, and he gives you a weak smile, propping himself up just enough to take a sip. “you’re an angel,” he mumbles, but even that little bit of gratitude is followed by a dramatic cough that makes you roll your eyes.

he’s restless, constantly shifting under the blankets and complaining about how bored he is, how much he hates feeling like this. you offer to stay with him, and his eyes light up, a mischievous glint behind the obvious exhaustion. “you gonna keep me company?” he teases, voice thick with congestion. “or are you just here to make sure i don’t die on the couch?

you settle in beside him, and even though he’s feeling awful, he still cracks jokes, trying to keep things light. but there’s a quiet moment where he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he drifts off to sleep, his breathing finally evening out. you stay there, feeling the weight of him against you, knowing that as much as he’s complaining, he appreciates you being there.

JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

soap is absolutely insufferable when he’s sick, and he knows it. at first, he tries to play it off—still bouncing around, still grinning, still acting like everything’s fine. but then the fever hits, and it’s like watching a hurricane get knocked flat. he’s sprawled out on the bed, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable no matter what he does.

you bring him a glass of water, and he gives you that familiar, cocky grin, even though he’s clearly not feeling well. “you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rasps, taking the water and downing it in one go. his voice is rough, but there’s still that glint of mischief in his eyes. “ye know, if i weren’t sick, we could be havin’ a lot more fun right now.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the way his teasing makes your heart flutter. he’s always been like this—flirty, cheeky, always pushing your buttons. even now, as he’s lying there, feverish and miserable, he can’t resist making a comment.

“don’t suppose you’ll give me a wee cuddle, eh?” he grins, shifting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. “might help me feel better.”

you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, but when you settle next to him, he actually quiets down for a moment, resting his head on your shoulder. his skin is warm, almost too warm, and you can feel the tension in his muscles as he tries to get comfortable

“don’t worry,” he mumbles, his voice soft now. “i’ll be back to my usual self soon enough. ye won’t be able to keep yer hands off me.” despite his words, he’s clearly exhausted, and when he finally drifts off, he’s peaceful for once, his usual energy gone, replaced by the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

when ghost gets sick, it’s like he’s trying to hide it from the world. he’s not the type to show weakness, not even to you, and it takes a lot for him to admit that he’s not feeling well. but eventually, even he can’t fight it off anymore, and you find him in bed, eyes closed, the tension in his body betraying how much he’s struggling.

he doesn’t say much when you sit beside him, offering him some medicine and a glass of water. he just nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the glass, the touch brief but enough to let you know he’s thankful for your presence.

he’s quiet—always quiet—but even more so when he’s sick. there’s no grumbling, no complaining, just the occasional shift of his body as he tries to get comfortable. you adjust the blankets around him, and his eyes flicker open for a moment, dark and heavy with exhaustion.

“you don’t have to stay,” he mutters, his voice low and rough. but there’s no force behind his words, no real intent for you to leave. in fact, the way his eyes follow you as you move around the room tells you that he doesn’t want to be alone, even if he won’t admit it.

you sit beside him, and for a while, there’s just the sound of his breathing, slow and labored. he doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t demand your attention, but the way his hand occasionally brushes against yours is enough. he’s not used to being taken care of, but he lets you stay, lets you be the quiet comfort he needs.

eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls into a restless sleep. you watch over him, knowing that even though he doesn’t say much, your presence is enough to ease some of the weight he’s carrying, even if only for a little while.

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Dub-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[gophergal]

home remedies taste so nasty :(

[anakinca]

hum... anakin taking care of us after we get sick.. would our dear nina be willing to write that..🤔

—❝safety net❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; i was literally giggling and kicking my feet while i wrote this it was so fucking CUTE. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3

THE STARS ARE COVERED BY THE DARK, RAIN FILLED CLOUDS THAT COVER THE SKY. The rainstorm outside raged on, drumming against the windows of your flat like the echo of a distant battle, but inside, the bedroom was a haven of warmth and comfort. The soft glow of the bedside lamps bathed everything in a dim, golden hue—from the tissues scattered across the bed, to the steaming bowl of soup resting on the nightstand. You sat bundled in the thickest blankets Anakin could find, your cheeks flushed with a fever and a faint pout on your lips. "I'm not sick," you sniffled stubbornly, though the congestion in your voice betrayed your words. You coughed into your fist, trying to look composed despite the obvious evidence to the contrary. "I don’t know what you’re talking about." Anakin arched an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking up in that half-smirk you both loved and dreaded. "Sure, you’re not," he drawled, his voice low and teasing, but laced with concern. With practiced ease, he scooped up a spoonful of soup, holding it up to your lips with a quiet but insistent, "Here. Eat." You hesitated, only for him to nudge the spoon closer, his ocean eyes narrowing in mock impatience. "Don’t make me use the Force to get you to take this," he teased, though his voice softened as he added, "Please, angel." You took the spoonful reluctantly, earning a satisfied nod from him. "See?" He said, setting the bowl aside momentarily. "I told you not to go running around in the rain without an umbrella, but no, you had to have your dramatic holo-movie moment." He rolled his eyes playfully, a sigh escaping him as he handed you a mug of steaming tea next, his touch lingering on your fingers as he passed it to you. "And now look at you. Feverish, sniffling, and your nose is running faster than a podracer on Tatooine." You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of you, even though it ended in a cough. Peeking up at him, you tilted your head and gave him your best wide-eyed, pleading look. "I won’t do it next time," you murmured, your voice soft and guilt-tinged. "Don’t be mad at me, Ani." He sighed, the sound heavy with feigned exasperation, though his expression betrayed nothing but affection and utter love for you. Sitting down beside you, he cupped your cheek with his gloved hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your fever-warmed skin. "Mad at you?" He repeated, his voice almost a whisper. "I could never be mad at you, my love. You could crash my starfighter into the Jedi Temple, and I’d still think the stars hung in your eyes. And you know how much I love my ship." You laughed weakly, leaning into his touch as warmth spread through your chest—not just from the soup, but from the way his love wrapped around you like a safety net. "Now, finish your soup," he said, his voice firmer but still impossibly gentle. "And then sleep. You need to rest if you’re going to get better." You nodded, obediently finishing the last of the soup before sinking deeper into the blankets. As he stood to take the bowl away, you mumbled through a yawn, "I’ll sleep, but you better not eat the last jogan fruit. That’s mine." Anakin chuckled, shaking his head as he crouched back down beside you, his gloved fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I wouldn’t dare," he said, his voice soft with adoration. "Anything for you, my little troublemaker." “You’re the one calling me a troublemaker?” You murmured in a teasing tone as your eyelids grew heavier. He let out a small huff of a laugh, choosing to ignore your comment as he pulled the blankets over you more. As the rain continued its soothing rhythm outside, you drifted into sleep, comforted by his presence. Anakin stayed by your side a moment longer, watching your peaceful expression with a fond smile before pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my love," he whispered, his voice a gentle promise. Then, as you dozed off, he thought of the bowl of jogan fruits sitting on the kitchen counter—with only one left inside—and smirked. For you, he’d leave it untouched—though he was already planning a trip to the market tomorrow to buy you an entire stash. Anything to see that smile on your face again.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

[burdenandacrop]

i have a cold rn…can you write schlatt caring for his sick partner mayhaps?

˗ˏˋ ❝ it's no bother, baby. ❞ ˎˊ˗

i am loving these cutesy prompts, i hope you're better by now !! most importantly, i hope you enjoy. :>

summary : bed ridden and running a wild fever, schlatt plays nurse and insists on being a form of remedy ! despite your pleas of just leaving it be; he's determined to make you feel better somehow.

♯┆established relationship, fluff, non-gender specific reader !

the feeling of your throat closing up was getting to feel old, you knew you should've questioned yourself when you were behind an old lady who was coughing in the bank line. so much for that little experience. guess this is how you learn your lesson, sprawled out on the bed and deeming the covers as evil from how hot your body felt. even your simple blinking felt like manual labor, what kind of punishment was this? you creak your sore neck to look over to the alarm clock, it was four in the morning. how fucking pleasant. you've felt like this since last night and the phone call to your job was not going to be a fun one. you knew you had to do it, the sheer thought of forcing yourself to get through it and work anyway just made you want to scream into the pillows. it truly did feel cruel, just laying there and feeling like a dying victorian child.

through the walls, you could hear the muffled out noises of schlatt cussing out either one of the cats or how his PC was running for him. it was every five minutes, just a 'fucking bitch' or 'useless piece of shit' being seethed from him. he probably thought you were asleep, but not in a condition like this. that was another thing you weren't looking forward to, knowing that he was going to come to bed at some point and see how utterly dead you looked. then it became apparent, you were going to get him sick too. this really was a sick form of punishment, every single thing felt like a domino effect when it came to the stressors. you rub your face in an attempt to make things feel more real, the soft amber glow from the bedside lamp peeking through your fingertips. anything that wasn't intensely dim just activated your aggravation to another level, headache after headache.

slowly, you raise your body up to the best of your ability, feeling every single tremor that rang through your muscles when you attempted to move after hours of stillness. stridently groaning at the pain, what kind of cold was this? the kind that satan himself sent to punish the worst contenders? pushing away the insistent thoughts, you switch off the lamp, thankfully creating an immediate relief from the pulsing headache that was ringing all around your head. you roughly plop your body back down, feeling as your chest went up and down slowly. every breath felt grueling, the icky sound of the congestion traveling up and down with each exhale. yeah, you were for sure not making an attempt to work today. especially in conditions like this, you wouldn't be surprised if you had some sort of disease that killed off people in oregon trail. that's just how detrimental it felt to you in the moment, absolutely aching to just have some form of release from this permeant uneasiness.

you just decided to close your eyes, bask in the darkness as it was helping ease your headache slowly. even if it was incredibly moderate, you were thankful that it didn't feel as painful with the bedside lamp on. maybe you would be able to get some rest before the chore of having to call in, if only your body would want to cooperate with that idea of yours. maybe if you just took a few ibuprofen you'd feel less like shit; it's a great idea despite the fact your body has now proclaimed war on the thought of moving. so it appeared that was just a distant possibility, too hard to even attempt it. you rolled over slowly, feeling how your shirt stuck onto your skin from the amount of sweat that poured from your skin. if there was one wish, it would be to do anything in your power to avoid something like this happening to you ever again. the feeling of your shirt did feel disgusting, but you'd be damned if you tried to move out of this position considering how comfortable it was.

right as everything seemed to align in this hellscape, the loud ding rung from your phone. you knew exactly what notification it was too, just by the sound. someone was at the door and it set off the ring doorbell, a soft groan escaped your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. that small thing just sent your body back into the same pain you were in right before. you could hear schlatt's shuffling feet, obviously making his way to the front door. a part of you was just silently pondering on what kind of mess he was getting himself into. it was nearly five in the morning for fuck's sake. you just nudged off the thought and tried your best to focus back to the serene feeling you had earlier, silently pleading for it to just return as quickly as possible. you couldn't be bothered in trying to instigate with his shenanigans. especially shenanigans that he did at an hour like this, which was quite often. it was just different considering you felt like a fucked up human experiment, just some mad scientist trying to see how much the body could deal with. in some weird manner of that.

unable to find that familiar comfort you had earlier, you just let your eyes flutter open to ponder at the glowing alarm clock. the numbers 4:51 AM practically taunting you. if you wanted to be smart about calling in, you'd have to do it in the safe median of around 6:30. even if that meant pissing off your boss with the early calls, but hey. not like you were having a necessary awesome morning either, if that was the case. the soft buzz of static rung through the room, but maybe that was an ear infection. you didn't care to even investigate it anymore, you just knew it was shitty. you could softly hear the shuffling of schlatt's feet once more, except they were growing closer to the door. you couldn't differentiate if he was coming to bed finally, or if he was just going to go back to his cave. [ his office. ] secretly hoping it was the office considering the state you were in currently, you just wanted to sleep it off and not have it be a bother to him. he had enough on his plate to begin with. he didn't need this on top of it.

with that notion, as if the universe could hear your pleas and just wanted to throw it back in your face. you heard the bedroom creak open slowly, the glow of amber from the hallway softly lighting up the room. you could also hear the crinkling of a paper bag, as well as the quiet noises of schlatt munching down on something. you really didn't want to turn around, have to come face to face with him just to show him what state you've been in all night while he was working in his office. you heard the bag gently settle on the bedside table to the right of you, knowing schlatt was probably about to crawl into bed. that was until the room fell oddly silent for a moment, oh god. "the hell? not covered up?" schlatt whispered to himself, leaning his knee onto the bed softly to grab a hold of the blanket to gently place back over you. as sweet as it seemed to a third party, to you the feeling of a warm blanket on your already warm body. jail time. immediately. he gave you soft rub on your shoulder as the cover wrapped on your body, though quickly realizing how hot to the touch you were.

"shit, that's warm." he murmured to himself as he eyed the alarm clock, then looking back to your turned away silhouette in the dim lighting. "baby, are you alright?" he leaned himself onto the bed with his knees and propped himself over your side, rocking you with your shoulder lightly; just assuming you were sleeping and had no clue. you softly whimper and creak your neck to his view, your eyes failing you by insisting to try and shut on you. he couldn't see just how drained you looked in the lack of lighting, but he could tell by your noises; you weren't exactly in pristine health. the heat of your body that nearly made him jump wasn't helping in this case either. the worry was settling in his system rather quickly, his body twisting to try and turn on the bedside lamp.

"no-no! no lights! please." you beg of him, immediately making him raise an eyebrow and retract his hand from the lamp switch. instead just settling himself on the bed next to you. he could hear how strained your voice sounded, the bubbling in each word. if he didn't know any better, it just sounded like you smoked two packs of cigarettes a day. "what's the matter?" he softly cooed as he brought his hand to your bare neck, his eyes widening as he was once again hit with the immense heat radiating off of you. "you're burning up, bad." he added, looking down to you and gently pulling his hand away. you sigh and use your weakened body strength to lay on your back instead, a few winces leaving your lips. "i caught something from the bank last week- i think." you murmur, the cover increasingly getting more annoying as it was only adding to the sweats. schlatt dropped his shoulders with a sigh and shook his head, gently pulling the cover off of your body. you silently thanked him with a relieved sigh, "don't tell me you're going to work, are you?" he questioned, hoping you'd give a logical answer.

you softly shook your head and scrunched your eyes shut at the new coming headache that was dead set on annoying you until this sickness passed over. "no- i have to call at s-" you cut your own self off by coughing, the rasp sound of it making schlatt basically jump in his spot. "i have to call at six." you finish, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand with a sigh. his eyes were transfixed on every detail of you, sure he was exhausted from being stuck on his computer for the past five hours but this was obvious more dire. "let me call em, okay?" he pleads with you, letting his hand trail on your shoulder. the coolness of his palm giving you a small feeling of satisfaction, if he could just keep it there for hours; that'd be perfect. "no, i can do it-" you stifled out before yet another abrupt cough interjected itself into the conversation. he shook his head and leaned himself a bit closer. "obviously you can't, baby." he muttered before retracting his palm from you; the serene coolness sadly leaving your skin.

he looked at you for a moment and ran a hand through his messed up hair as he pondered on what his plan of action should be. he couldn't have you wallowing in a puddle of your own sweat for the rest of the day. "i need to get you some water. that's for starters." he mumbled out as he looked around the room, trying to find anything in eyesight that would help. eventually his eyes landing on the small fan that probably hadn't been used in months, clicking his tongue at the sight and raising up from the bed to go and grab it. your eyes follow his movements, your brain still in a sicken daze, unable to focus on whatever that was happening. "what are you doing?" you mutter as you sniffle up. he grabs the fan and walks back to the bed with a soft grin, "you're sweating bad so-" shaking the fan in his hand before bending on his knee to plug it in underneath the bedside table that was on your side. you weakly nodded to his gesture, then suddenly feeling the cool breeze hit your skin. much better. drastically better.

he cracked a smile as he saw the immediate impact it had on you, seeing how your head almost instantly relaxed against the pillow. he nudged himself closer to the edge of the bed, resting on his knees before letting his arms rest on the sheets as he looked at you. "better?" he asked, your eyes fluttered open to his view. immediately nodding to his question and closing your eyes again, if only you could've done this for yourself hours ago. "yeah- you don't need to do anything else." you stammered out, rubbing your head against the pillow lightly as the relaxation was finally finding you again. he didn't take a lot of liking to that little comment though, only making him furrow his brow as he looked at you. "you're crazy." he snickered out, he propped himself back on his feet and pulled at his shirt gently. "i'm getting you some water and then we're getting you changed." he insisted, your eyes opening once again to see him and try to protest his pleas. "you don't have to do that-" you choke out, a cough once again cutting you off. "never said i had to." he sighed out, walking over to the door as he kept looking back to you, "it's not a bother, just let me baby." he muttered before walking out to the hallway to grab what he needed to properly take care of you. it definitely wasn't just going to be a water bottle, that was for certain.

he was already out of sight, too far for you to even try to protest again. it just made you feel guilty, as if you were an incapacitated child. of course, he just wanted to help; just an odd part of you was yelling at you for having to be in a state where you did have to be treated like you were incapacitated. cause you kinda were, sadly. you tried your best to just focus on the cool breeze that was hitting your face, it was what you needed in the past seven hours. instead of laying in agony sweating to death nearly. your eyes followed to the other side of the room, seeing schlatt's crinkled up bag of take-out. so that's why the ring doorbell went off. your patience was testing you considering you knew damn well you couldn't have any sort of crunchy food, what a bore. you could hear schlatt's feet shuffling in the kitchen, how he was quietly muttering to himself. part of you wondering what the hell he was doing, because a glass of water did not take this long.

you rub your face with a low grumble, every little movements felt unnecessarily laborious. with the added guilt of having your boyfriend treat you like a radioactive waste concoction, today was not fun in the slightest. your eyelids were progressively getting heavier with the cool breeze soothing you, that was until you saw the blurry silhouette of schlatt appear in the doorway. with how bad your eyesight was in the moment, the amber lighting falling behind him almost made him look like a specter. "do you need help sitting up?" he quietly asked as he came more into your view, the daze lessening as his form became less blurred. you could see in his arms he was holding a good bit of stuff, from what you could recognize; was a glass of water, a washrag, bottle of pills, and a small opened cup of yogurt. your favorite flavor to be exact. guess that's what all the shuffling noises were doing. you shake your head and prop your hands on the sheets to slowly stabilize yourself, raising your body up and moaning softly as you leaned against the headboard.

schlatt immediately put everything down on the bedside table, rushing his hands to fix the pillow from underneath you to help your back better. "easy, easy." he cooed as he kept his eyes on you, slightly bending over to adjust the fan to hit your skin better. "you don't have to be florence nightingale, yknow?" you weakly chuckle out, crossing your arms and feeling the rumbling in your stomach. he stood up straight and gave you a cocked brow as he grabbed the washrag, "who the hell is that?" he muttered as he leaned his knee onto the edge of the mattress to bring the washrag to your head. "what do you mean who is- nevermind." you stammer out, the instant gratification of the cool rag hitting your forehead. he patted it down onto your forehead, nodding when he was satisfied with the placement.

"is that actually helpful or is my knowledge from the movies just stupid?" he asked with a grin, pulling his knee back and picking up the pill bottle from the table. you close your eyes and slowly nod to his question, "it's doing something." you mumble, tilting your head to his direction before opening your eyes again to see him twisting off the cap of the bottle. "i'll call my mom and see if she knows what else i should do." he mutters as he shakes out two ibuprofen pills into his palm, putting the bottle back down and grabbing the glass of ice water with his right hand. "you really don't need to-" you groan, the weight of your head progressively getting more uncomfortable. "she'll know, just let me do this for you. okay?" he pleads with you, before leaning back down to reach your face better. "take this, alright?" he adds on, gesturing the pills in his palm to you. you sigh and take the pills and pop them into your mouth, taking the glass of water from his hand and gulping it down. his eyes widened as he realized just how much you needed water, goodness gracious.

you retracted the glass from your lips and sighed, looking up to him with your exhaustion pouring from your expression. "hopefully that'll kick in quickly." he muttered before taking the glass from your hands and placing it gently back onto the table. sighing as he looked back to you, leaning over and balancing his knee back onto the edge of the bed. "let's get this shirt off." he gruffly stated, trailing his hands to the hem of your shirt. feeling how soaked it was from your sweat. you scrunched up your face and groaned as you raised your arms above your head. he took the rag off your forehead temporarily, tossing it to the table and pulling the shirt off of your body. he threw the shirt off to the corner of the room and looked to the closet. "you just want one of your bed shirts?" he stated as he eyed what he could see from the distance. you softly nod and whimper out an 'mhm.' he promptly turned from the bed to go and grab an old shirt of yours from the closet, flipping through the numerous tees he could choose. he wanted it to be airy in a way, considering you were going to be wearing it for a bit. he beamed when he finally found a thin white tee, pulling it off the hanger and clutching it in his fist as he walked back over to you.

right as he was about to straighten out the shirt to help you put it on, a realization hit him. he dropped the shirt on the bed and grabbed the rag from the bedside table, quickly rubbing it along your chest to clean off any lingering sweat. it wasn't a bath but- it was definitely going to be better than just wallowing in hours of sweat. the cold rag felt so nice, you could feel how careful he was trying to be with you. letting the rag drag along your skin and it did help you feel cleaner in the moment. he tossed the rag to the side once more as he finished wiping you off, grabbing the tee and nodding to silently signify you to raise your arms again. "least it's a bit better." he murmured as he finished pulling the shirt over your head, adjusting the end of it to better suit your comfort. "thanks florence nightingale." you weakly snicker and pick at the lint of the shirt for a moment. "still don't know who the hell you're talking about." he laughed along with you, pleased that you were at least trying to smile and not be stuck in the sorrow of your illness.

you just roll your eyes and settle your back into the headboard, he really was clueless at times. he gently pulled himself off the edge of the bed to grab the cup of yogurt, handing it over to you with a soft grin. "this'll be easier on your throat." he stated, your eyes lingering on the cup for a moment before taking it. you hadn't ate in a bit so you definitely needed this. he watched as you took the cup and began to scarf it down, trying to hold back a snicker of how he was seeing this moment. you narrow your eyes at him as you lick the yogurt off your lips, it was easy to see he was trying his hardest to not smile. "what." you choke out, only making it harder for him to not laugh at the sight. he crossed his arms and shrugged, "it's like watching my grandma." he admits, snickering and immediately regretting his wording. you kick your foot at him causing him to lose a bit of his balance as he continued to chuckle.

"i'm sorry- i'm sorry." he snickered out as he backed away from the edge of the bed. you just shook your head and continued to finish off your yogurt, it was helping with your throat so. guess he was a tad bit smart for that idea. "my mom should be up." he muttered as he pulled his phone from his pocket, the glow of the screen roaming on his focused face as he searched for his mom's contact. pressing the call button and nodding to you before walking over to the corner of the room to pace around as he waited for her to answer. your eyes followed him as you held the spoon in your mouth, wondering if his mother was going to be livid to be getting a call so early. "mornin' mama- yeah it's just a little somethin." he spoke with the phone to his ear, you could barely hear what she was saying on the other line. "[y/n] is sick, just wanted to know what you do for dad when he's down." he twirled himself around as he heard his mom labeling off everything, looking over to you with a smile. "uh huh, honey and mint. is that what you're saying?" he questioned into the phone, nodding to every little thing his mom was saying. "alright- yup. thank you. mhm. love you mom- yes i'll tell [y/n]. uh huh. bye-bye. i will." he stammered out, you cracked a smile as you saw him. it was always hilarious to see him attempt to get off the phone when his mom insisted on saying everything at the end of the phone call. every single time.

he sighed as he pulled the phone away from his ear, shaking his head as he pushed it back into his pocket. "she said she hopes you feel better and she'll bring some soup later on today." he snickers out, walking back over to his side of the bed before sitting on the edge as he faced you. "she does not need to make me soup-" you protest but schlatt just shakes his head and clicks his tongue, "don't deny my sweet mom's kindness. you're getting soup." he sighed out as he leaned against the headboard, trailing his hand to yours. "this is just a lot for me being sick." you groan out, your hand weakly gripping into his. "well, i love you. so this is prompted." he sighed out and leaned his body a bit closer to yours; not really caring if he'd get sick. "you're gonna give me a cavity, i swear to god." you snicker out and shake your head. he let his thumb run along the back of your hand, eyeing how it trembled gently. "good thing you have dental insurance then." he replied with a smile, looking back to your eyes.

"also health insurance. after the ibuprofen kicks in, we're getting you into urgent care." he sighed out once more, pulling his hand away and bringing it up to your hot to the touch cheek. "can't have your job all upset." he added on, rubbing his thumb along your edges. you groan at the idea of sitting in a waiting room for this mess, "i know- i know. just gotta make sure it's nothing serious." he muttered with a pursed lip. "just don't make me do that alone." you plead with him, your eyes fluttering from the soft touch of his hand. "i'd never." he smiled and leaned over to kiss your forehead. "so til then, i'm fuckin- 'florence bird' or something." he snickered out. you roll your eyes and shook your head at his nonsense, "it's florence nightingale. she invented modern nursing dipshit." you groan out with a giggle. "yeah yeah, whatever. history talks for later." he cooed out as he stretched his arms. "just get better so i can kiss you again, alright?" he stated with a pouted expression.

"seems like you have your priorities straight." you mumble, smiling weakly at him. "my priorities are straight if it's involving you." he replied with a sigh, kissing your forehead one more time. sure, being sick was hell; but you practically had a walking teddy bear as a caretaker. so it couldn't be all that bad. minus the urgent care. that would just have to be something to worry about later.

author's note : i loved writing this sm, so thank you so much for submitting it !! i am strapping my boots and gonna knock out some more submission after this. til then, lauve youuu !!!