#i now constantly need to cough and sneeze

[dreamsb0u]

hey kids snorting a line of clay dust may be funny but it does not taste good come back for more life tips

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ the "dying" wolverine ]❜

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ taking care of logan when he’s sick┊0.8k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, established relationship

➤ author's note: i’m feeling like shit so i’m making him suffer with me

what part of regenerative healing don’t you understand? it’s impossible for him to get sick in any capacity as his immune system is stronger than the adamantium in his body, so feel free to read any of the other logan fics written by all the amazing writers on this platform!!

but let’s say that he somehow contracted a special bug that managed to get past all that and managed to make him fall ill, requiring you to take care of him while wade goes on a mission to figure out what’s wrong with him…

this headstrong two-hundred-year mutant who can take stab wounds without flinching and is an invincible tank in battles will be the whinest son of the bitch. he always lets his guard down around you, but he’s the most vulnerable and immature that he’ll ever allow himself to be around anyone since he can’t remember the last time (or if he has ever in his life) felt so shitty. shivering despite being feverish and covered up in blankets which just made him sweaty and uncomfortable, an itchy nose that wouldn’t sneeze when he needed it to, coughing his lungs out every two minutes— it’s so alien to him.

when you finally show up to look after him, he’ll have uncharacteristically big puppy eyes as you gently place your hand on his forehead to gauge how bad it is. “how are you feeling, lo?”

“i feel like i’m going to fucking die.” there are several discarded tissues and water bottles overfilling the nearby trashcan, but it was clear that he had no idea how he was supposed to make himself feel better and suffering.

“i can tell,” you chuckle at how dramatic he sounds and it makes him frown, but he’s just so thankful that you’re here to take care of him (he doesn’t exactly trust al to do it, that woman is a bit too mysterious and cryptic for him, and the medicine she offered smelled funny even to his dulled senses). “let me go make you some soup.”

he doesn’t want you to leave at first because your cold skin feels so good against him, but he’ll lightly doze off for a bit now that he’s more comfortable and feels safer. don’t expect him to stay asleep for long though, he’ll get up from his little while you’re in the middle of cooking chicken vegetable soup to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on top of yours until you finish.

“why are there barely any vegetables in the fridge? i could only find half a carrot and wilted celery.”

“i don’t think anyone here eats that stuff.”

“logan, you need to eat your greens— all you guys do, how are all three of you in such good shape then?!”

“eh.”

he can’t make anything more complicated than butter noodles, wade sets nearly everything on fire, he feels slightly guilty eating the food made by an elderly blind lady when he’s already freeloading at the moment, and constantly ordering take-out becomes expensive. you’ve given some food in tupperware for him to eat up, but it isn’t quite the same. as if being sick didn’t make him miserable enough, he’s so fucking pissed that he couldn’t properly taste your freshly-cooked food and will make it known.

you scoff that it’s just soup and pour it out in a bowl for him to eat, but you’ll quickly find yourself spoon-feeding him. yes, his hands still work with perfectly fine motor functions. no, you’re not passing up the opportunity to baby him while he rolls his eyes (he’ll grunt at most and doesn’t say a word of protest, claiming that he’s merely allowing it since he’s too tired to fight with you over it and very glad no one could see it happening).

“here comes the airplane~”

“i’m a grown-ass man, don’t be ridiculous.”

“a grown-ass man without an ounce of whimsy in his life, open your fucking mouth and eat.”

this is one of the lower points in his life where he doesn’t quite understand why this is happening to him yet, so you obviously have give him as much affection as possible! keeping a cold glass of water nearby and a wet rag to dab on his face, he rests his head upon your thighs and you swear that you can hear him purring like a kitten. there’s not better pillow than his lover, soft, warm, and full of love as you hum a song to lull him to sleep.

“let’s get married one day…” he not sure how that slipped past his lips, it might be the fever talking for him, or the fact that he’s completely relaxed without any tension in his muscles and feeling himself falling in love all over again when you smile so sweetly at him

“okay, but you need to sleep and get better first.” you place a gentle kiss on his forehead until his eyes slowly drift shut, “i love you, logan.”

[dduane]

Ugh, we've both got colds

In perfect synchrony. Probably picked these up while out on a grocery run late last week (there was a lady near us unmasked and sneezing constantly. No telling how many other folks caught what she was spreading around). Note to self: fit on current masks seems to need attention.

So, joint dosing with NeoCitran -- the Swiss formulation, not the less-effective Canadian one -- is about to ensue. I doubt I've got anything in the queue, so expect it to be quiet here until tomorrow-or-so at my end. As for @petermorwood, no telling what he's got queued up.

Meanwhile, if anybody wants to run over to Ebooks Direct and get things to cheer me up, feel free. (In particular, not all prices have been adjusted-for-2024 as yet, and the one below is still holding at its old rate...)

(oh look, the picture shows. Cool...)

More later: must now return to (hopefully) productive coughing. :/

[kairismess]

Hayoo!! Can I request Sakusa enemies to lovers?? I love the man sm :'))

hearts' day 009.

in which kiyoomi's got a soft spot for his favorite pain in the ass.

"i didn't hear a flush."

his deep, stern voice filled your ears as you exited the restroom, with sakusa about to use it next. his dark, wavy hair did nothing to obscure the total judgement he had written all over his face as he scrunched up his eyebrows and nose, practically glaring down at you as you exited the washroom with... wet hands, much to his disdain.

"...and you didn't even dry your hands?" he asked you with a slight scoff in his tone as his gaze darkened. you sighed and unceremoniously wiped your hands on your shirt, making sakusa part himself away from you even more. "that's even worse." "you're quite chatty today, omi, don't tell me you picked today to be a huge bitch." you retorted with a sly smile on your face, taunting him as he sprayed some sanitizer on his hands before opening the door to the comfort room.

"it appears your hands aren't the only body part you need cleaning today. i have a good mouthwash i could recommend you, i feel like you'll be needing it." he spoke with a condescending tone as he glared at you from underneath his dark bangs.

"and i think you need some bug killing spray. not for the roaches in the locker room, but for the pest i see in front of me right now." you retaliated, smiling widely and innocently as a vein popped up on sakusa's temple.

he wordlessly shut the door to the comfort room to do his business, making you chuckle a little under your breath as you mentally tallied your score against him for the 'greatest comebacks of all time' (in which, he was in the lead by about... 5 points).

you didn't exactly loathe sakusa, it was just so much fun to piss him off and make him walk away. he was always an interesting guy to you, just a little bit of... 'a bitch', as you loved to call him. to sakusa, you annoyed him more than the three thorns by his side: bokuto, hinata, and atsumu–and that was a great feat, because nobody in the history of ever has provoked sakusa to continuously answer back and one-up you more than they have.

you made sakusa feel like there was a little more to life than going to volleyball games, fan meet-ups (which he barely attended anyway), and just... anything else. you gave him some spice in his life, and though he had a preference for the bland, everyday he was so used to, it felt nice to have a little kick in his day when you start it off by giving him a backhanded compliment or a sly middle finger with a cute smile on your face.

when he entered the team's gym one day and didn't see you in your usual spot by the treadmills at the usual time you were there. he found it a little strange, but decided not to question it; he decided to text you after his training.

and true to his word, he had a brown paper bag full of bottled waters, fruits, and vitamin supplements. he handed you your favorite scented spray of his, he only knew it was your favorite when you asked him if he was wearing any perfume or where he got that scent from and presumed you took a liking to it.

you told sakusa weakly, and repeatedly, that you didn't need any help, that you were fine, despite being stuck to your bed and coughing and sneezing up a storm. "just shut up and let me take care of you. i'll help you get back to your snarky little self in a few days." he said with a softer voice than normal, about to spoon-feed you some homemade chicken soup that he made specifically for you.

you felt a little taken aback at his kindness, your eyebrows raising involuntarily at his act of charity. you decided not to fight it and give in to trust him and in his caregiving methods. he was surprisingly gentle with you, for a guy who would constantly chide and judge you to get back at you, he did do a good job of being sweet and caring at times.

maybe you wouldn't mind seeing this gentlemanly side of his more often now...

[ninii-winchester]

I'll send a request for Dean first and later I'll send it about Sam. Because I have had this for a while.

Dean basically raised Sam, and took care of Sammy, and I think about this idea of the reader taking care of Dean while is sick, showing that Dean deserves to be cared for and loved too.

Sorry if it's confusing English isn't my first language.

🍉

Tender Care

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 1.1k

Warnings: none

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The bunker was wrapped in a calm stillness, there was nothing to do. Sam, Dean and Y/n came back from a hunt the night before and there were no potential hunts either. Y/n was in the library, dusting off the dirt that had accumulated on the further shelves, when Dean entered the open space with a mug of coffee in his hand. He didn’t speak, just took a seat on one of the chairs and admired his girl quietly.

The quiet of the bunker was broken by the sound of a loud sneeze. Y/n turned to look at Dean as he muttered a little ‘excuse me’. She nodded before going back to her work. She shrugged it off as a result of the dust filling his nostrils. He didn’t think much of it either.

Until a few hours later, he was sneezing constantly and his head felt heavy. His eyes were burning. His body felt weak and he felt cold. He groaned as the realisation dawned upon him, he was sick. He hated being sick. He pushed the thought aside and went into the garage to work on his Baby. Not before informing Y/n.

Y/n was in the kitchen preparing lunch when Dean entered the kitchen. She noticed something was odd in the way he walked. His nose was little red and so were his eyes.

“I’ll be in the garage if you need me.” He informed her. She noticed the change in his voice too. It was hoarse. She placed both of her hands on her hips and she observed him closely.

“Dean Winchester.” Was all he said and Dean looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He hated when she went full mother hen on him. And he knew it was coming. She took a step closer to him and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re burning up and you want to play mechanic?” She reprimanded him like a child. “Bed. Now.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. And he was no fool to defy her orders when it came to this. He knew she would drag his ass to bed and chain him to the bed if needed.

“Yes ma’am.” Truth is, he could barely stand. He just wanted to distract himself by tinkering with Baby. But he could feel his illness coming to hit him with full force. She guided him towards their room with careful steps and laid him on the bed. She helped him out his jeans, getting him more comfortable and covered him with a blanket as she felt him shiver slightly.

“I’ll you bring some soup.” Y/n said but he grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving.

“Don’t go.” He whined like a child which brought a smile to her face. He was cute when he wasn’t being all grumpy and a badass hunter. But he’s her grumpy badass hunter.

“I won’t be gone long, De.” She cooed at him lovingly. “I’ll get you some medicine too. I’ll be back before you know it.” She promised and he nodded reluctantly.

True to her word, Y/n came back fairly quickly. She had a tray in her hands which consisted of a soup bowl, a glass of water and some painkillers for him.

He laid in bed, looking pale and tired. His face was flushed from the fever, and he occasionally shivered despite being wrapped in blankets. A pile of used tissues sat beside him, evidence of his persistent coughing and sneezing. His nose was red and stuffy, making it hard for him to breathe comfortably. He felt weak and achy, with a dull headache adding to their discomfort.

She set the tray on the nightstand before sitting on the bed beside him. She pushed his hair away from his head. “Cmon baby, I brought you food.” She caressed his cheek gently and he closed his eyes leaning into her touch. “Dean.” She urged him to sit up. He sat up slightly and she adjusted the pillow behind him so he could be comfortable. She grabbed the bowl from the tray, she took a spoonful of soup and blew on it before feeding him.

Dean didn’t want to admit it but he liked being pampered by her. Even if meant getting sick sometimes. He hated being sick. All his life he had to deal with his sickness on his own. Even when he was a child. He took care of Sammy even when he was sick. And when Sam got sick he did everything in his power to get him better. Sometimes he wished, someone would do the same for him.

And when Y/n came into his life, she always took care him. She cared for him in more ways than one. Whether it was patching him after hunts, making sure he ate and slept adequately and taking care of him when he was sick. Sometimes he felt he was taking advantage of her kindness, that he didn’t deserve to be treated with such gentleness but she always assured him she loved him and felt happy taking care of him.

After the bowl of empty she passed him the tablet and he downed it with water. She helped him lay back and tucked him in the blankets. She got up from the bed but his voice stopped her. “Where are you going?” She placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Nowhere.” She replied getting up from the bed and turning the lights off. She rounded the bed and got into bed, laying beside him. He immediately rested his head on her chest and she started massaging his head. “Feeling any better?” She asked scratching his head lightly. He just hummed in response. He becomes a baby when he’s sick.

“Man, I hate being sick.” He mumbled after a few seconds of silence. He snuggled closer to her.

“It’s okay baby. I’ll nurse you back to health.” She replied holding him.

“Can you wear the sexy nurse outfit while you do it?” He grinned against her chest and she shook her head with a chuckle.

“Feeling better already, I see.” She remarked noticing he’s back to his flirty self. “Go to sleep, Winchester.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When Dean woke up he felt much better. His head wasn’t hurting anymore and his fever has subsided. And Y/n was still by his side. “Hey how’re you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you for taking care of me.” He said throwing his arm around her waist pulling her closer.

“I’m just glad you feel better.”

With a content sigh, he pulled her into a gentle embrace, and they held each other, feeling the warmth of their closeness, as they enjoyed the simple comfort of each other’s presence.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS TAKING CARE OF YOU

WHEN YOU'RE SICK

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

warning : mention of medicine, pure fluff

note : been sick for almost 2 weeks now so i thought about this idea lol

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

his poor heart cries in pain seeing you so weak. he hates when you're sick because sickness take off your positive energy which he adores much. so he makes sure you're warm enough under triple blankets, double pillows under your head for extra comfort and some movies playing on the tv. call him and he'll be standing right next to you a second later, ready to help you with anything. ask for cuddles and he won't think twice before joining you in the bed and pecking your face. he still want you to takes your medicine even though you're recovered, just in case, just to be sure you won't get sick again.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

his poor baby is pin down on the bed, coughing and sneezing every single minutes. he hates it, he wants to see you smile again, he wants you to feel better. he would stay with you until you feel good, arms around your body as he let lazy and soft kisses everywhere on your face. especially your lips. you'll probably scold him because he'll get sick too but he doesn't care, he wants to take care of his baby, it's just his job. he reminds you to take your drugs and also makes sure you have everything you need, and if not then he'll bring it to you as quickly as possible.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

as soon as he knows you're not feeling well, he would run to you in a hurry. he would also panic because it's not in your habit to get sick. he'll call his mom to get advices, he wants to do his best to take care of you and your poor state. try to act confident in front of you but internally stress because he doesn't really know what to do. still he manages to keep you in a good mood, he makes you laugh but you just end up coughing so he stress even more. but don't worry he'll be the sweetest, showing you with loads of kisses and cuddles because either him can't get enough of them.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

now this guy would 100% know how to manage with his loved one being sick. like he just used to it and he perfectly knows what to do and what can make you feel better. he'll put you on the bed, and wrap you in a huge blanket. he even writes a schedule for your drugs with precise times. he'll cook the warmest meals and makes you tons of tea. sit next to you to keep an eye on you, sometimes you ask for kisses and he can't refuse them, pressing his soft lips on your forehead. you say that he's doing too much for you, overreacting the whole thing. but he would shrug and reply that he just wants the best treatment for you.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 55

he doesn't really like when you're sick because he can't get along with the picture of you being stuck in the bed, a tired expression endlessly on your face. but on the other hand i feel like he'd love playing the doctor. like he'll be so much caring, asking you every little minutes if you're feeling better or not. he won't rest until you're completely recovered. also would be the type to play some music, because he knows how much it comforts you. he'll put your favorite tv show and slide under the blankets and cuddle you until your body is warm enough. and also constantly rubbing your back or arms, just full of love for his lover.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

he has to deal with you being pretty sick and he doesn't wait a second to take care of you. maybe first will scold you because you don't wear enough warm clothing or you just don't pay enough attention to yourself. he doesn't like that, so he reminds you to always cover yourself with extra gloves and scarf. and then he feels bad seeing you in that state. he always feels panicked whenever you're coughing a bit too hard or sneezing nonstop. like a worried expression is stuck on his face. he would lay down on the bed next to you, mumbling some "my poor baby" and things like that. you'll tease him later about how much worried he looked for you but he doesn't care because it's just his way to show you how much he cares about you.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

he's extremely caring and sweet with you. he becomes softer, acting super gently because he doesn't want to hurt you. stuck on your side like the world will stop if he's not keeping an eye on you. he would bring you to the doctor even if you just have a little fever, he's just so worried about you he doesn't want you to get sick. but manage incredibly well with it. he's the best because he does whatever you ask him to do. make you laugh ? he transforms into a comedian. not warm enough ? he joins you and cuddle you so close to his body. need some rest ? he'll take a nap with you in his arms, pressing kisses here and there until you're fully recovered.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

at first he thought you were joking about your state. but when he came home and saw your tired body and face on the couch, he knew it wasn't funny at all. he feels so bad and he knows he has one job : take care of you as best as possible. but he knows one remedy that always works. his humor. whenever you're feeling off or sick, his humor always lifts up your mood. so while giving you your drugs, he'll talk about funny histories, or anything that can makes you laugh. and it works so well because despite the pain you're able to laugh. and he loves it. also pecking your whole face is one of the best medicine. but you can be sure he takes good care of you.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

know how to handle the situation. like he would transform into a doctor as soon as his eyes saw something was off with you. forces you to stay in the bed, a crazy amount of blankets over your body. you tell him it's fine but he doesn't listen and keep adding more warm stuff. he would gives you princess treatment, ask for anything and you'll got it. also makes you different types of tea with all the different flavors, and it'll just ends up in a tasting session. he would also never shut up about his science, explaining you how people get sick. but over all, he's happy to stay on your side and feeding you with lots of kisses

[buncatz]

sick hoddie

paring: boyfriend!seokmin x gn!reader

genre : kinda hurt/comfort?, fluff

waring(s): reader is sick and going through a bad time, reader is smaller than seokmin, sweet loving boyfriend!seokmin, seokmin being a sweetheart, mentions of reader feeling inferior, a lot of love.

A/N: i been sick all this week and i'm feeling like shit so i thought that while i rest i can write about being take care of, this is my first long "fic" and english isn't my first language so im sorry if you see any errors anyways enjoy （╹◡╹）

seokmin usually lets people see what he thinks or feels, but the only thing he couldn't expose himself would be to talk about how much he likes to see you in his hoodies, at first it was normal, he realized from the beginning realize how forgetful you are, on one of your first dates the time passed quickly than he thought and soon enough it was night, normally the weather tends to get cold, you being yourself forgot about bringing a hoodie just in case, but Seokmin, seeing how uncovered you were, didn't hesitate for a second and he offered you his hoodie.

this was his downfall

Seeing yourself so small when wearing his sweatshirt, along with that feeling that everyone around you knew was his sweatshirt and that you were now occupying it for some reason filled him with pride and love.

But this was just the beginning

Now a few months has passed, you and seokmin are celebrating 5 months of being together, he has always been a romantic so he decided to invite you on a date, everything was fine until now, you didn't expect to wake up so sick. When you woke up the first thing you felt was a huge headache, combined with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, it was the perfect match for feeling like shit

You decided to continue with the day and you got up to wash your face. When you did so, you felt a breeze of cold and loneliness consuming you. A feeling of isolation was so big that you just wanted a hug and to feel good sooner, remembering that your boyfriend a few days ago "unintentionally" left his hoodie in your place, you didn't think twice and put it on. At the moment you did so, you felt the smell of your boyfriend invading your nostrils and the heat of the sweatshirt helped you feel a little better.

After a few minutes of sitting on your bed complaining while you coughed and sneezed, you heard the ringtone of your phone. When you answered it, you were welcomed with the melodious voice of your boyfriend, "good morning sweetie, how did you sleep? Are you ready for our day?" he asked enthusiastically, you instantly felt guilty upon hearing so much emotion on his part, when you opened your mouth to respond your body betrayed you (more than it already was) and with a weak voice you replied "good morning handsome, I slept well but I waked up being sick, I'm so sorry" Seokmin, being the attentive boyfriend, was able to realize the state you were in, not taking any importance to the plans he had for today and dedicating all his attention to you, he spoke "hey it's okay, Do you want me to go see you?" He asked gently, probably even if you refused he would come anyway, but you felt too tired to fight him so you just accepted with a weak smile.

After a few minutes you heard a knock on the door, with the little strength you had you went at a slow pace to open the door, when you did so you were greeted by the warm smile of your boyfriend "I'm sorry if took too long honey, I went to buy some things for you." "he said lovingly and then upon entering he kissed you on the forehead you replied with a hug.

He instantly realized that the hoodie you were wearing was his, feeling your weak touch made him realized how much you needed him, a few minutes after his arrival you found yourself wrapped in blankets as he showed you the things he bought you, among them were medicines, some vegetables and your favorite snacks.

Throughout the morning he was constantly checking on you, first he made you take the medication that he previously bought, while he tucked and left you in a comfortable place, he went to the kitchen to make you the miraculous "mingyu's sick soup" that in his words always helped him get better when he got sick, every now and then he would come back to you asking about your health.

When Seokmin finished cooking, he brought you the food. At this rate, you couldn't resist anymore and you burst into tears, which alerted your boyfriend.

"Hey honey, what's wrong? Don't you want to eat?" He asked worriedly as he took your face in his hands carefully wiping your tears with his thumbs. As you calmed down you looked at him with a pout and opened your mouth "I'm sorry for ruining our day, now we could have done what you had planned but you're here taking care of me." as if I were a child" you said between sobs, you tried to speak again but Seokmin's voice cut you off "hey beautiful, it's okay, you haven't ruined the day, if I'm here it's because I want to take care of you because I love you and I want to see you well "Apart from the fact that I don't care what I had planned, what I wanted was to spend the day with you" he said softly while leaving small kisses on your head, after reassuring you he began to feed you, with the excuse that you don't have to do any extra work, you just have to rest and let him love you.

In what remained of the day, Seokmin dedicated it to you, making sure you ate, that you were comfortable and, above all, showering you with kisses and hugs, even with your protests that you were going to make him sick, he couldn't care less since he The only thing I wanted was to see you smile.

Now you were watching the series that you liked so much, Seokmin was under you while his arms surrounded you, his hand was gently placed on your head giving you small caresses and it was at that moment where you realized that Seokmin's love was enough to be able to make you feel better than you ever thought.

[himimosa]

when they are sick

taking care of bsd men when they are sick...

fyodor, kunikida, dazai

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He is the person who walks around sick for almost half of a year, with a lot of sniffs and sneezes. Somehow he can manage to catch a cold even in summer. You say it is because he has an awful immune system

He already has anemia that makes his body weak. And if a bad cold is added too, he becomes almost pathetic...

If you ask him, he says he is used to being sick most of the time, but that is not true. He tried to take pills a few times for his anemia but they were useless (no, i am not self-projecting here, nope)

Most of the time, he can pull to do his work even if that means carrying tissues with him everywhere.

He hates the times when he got extra bad cold, it causes delays in his work. He is not someone who will accept to see a doctor even though his fever runs high. So if you're going to accompany him, you have to use more conventional ways...

You know hot soup, warm shower, herbal teas... He will act like you are being too "histrionic" and he is doing fine, but he will appreciate it secretly...

You put a mix of mint and linden leaves into the french press, added a tiny piece of ginger, and then poured hot water. After you waited for a while you poured out the liquid through a strainer. You had chosen your fav “I like mugs because they’re very comfortable in your hand” mug for it.

You entered the room where Fyodor was laying, he was trying to read a book but he was coughing constantly. You pulled the book from his hands: "Please drink this and rest a little. I am sure your book can wait for you." you scolded him lightly. He didn't argue with you, which was a sign that he was really feeling bad.

He took the mug, and looked at the writing on it "I don't understand why this is written on a mug" You chuckled "Because either you don't have a sense of humor or you have never heard Demi Lovato before dear.."

"Is it really an inadequacy of me that I don't get the references from the pop culture that was brought to people by no one but-"

"Darling darling..." you interrupted him "You can talk for hours about fatuity of popularism later, but I am begging you, drink this tea. now..."

He was annoyed by your interruption but he complied with your request. He sniffed before taking a sip. Then his face turned into a disgusted expression.

"Did you put ginger in this tea?.."

Kunikida Doppo

This poor man will go through the 5 stages of grief in order...

Denial: "I am not sick, I just got shivers for a second! This doesn't mean anything!" "No, I don't look awful or tired, I am fine!"

Anger: "This is because of that Dazai asshole! That nasty bastard sneezed right into my face and contaminated me with his viruses!"

Bargaining: "...Okay some inconveniences might happen but it's not that bad", "I will drink this tea and get better in an instant. No, I don't need a break, I will be fine"

Depression: "... What will happen to the agency if I use two days off?" "...my program... I will be left behind on it.."

Acceptance: "..President, may I use two days off to recover?"

He knew it is natural to get sick for people... But it wasn't written in his ideals book... He must add some notes about this too...

All he wants is quickly recover and get back to his responsibilities. So he will see a doctor, he will take his medicines, will drink all the herbal tea he needs to drink...You don't have to do much indeed, he is someone who takes care of himself well. But this doesn't mean he won't appreciate it if you do some thoughtful things for him...

"I'm home" you called to him when you entered the house with your keys. You dropped the bags that you got from the grocery store to the kitchen. You could organize them later, you went right ahead to the room where Kunikida was resting. He tried to get up to greet you but you acted quicker and hugged him while he was still sitting. He froze for only one second, then slowly wrapped his arms around you

"Y/N... You shouldn't be this close to me, you will get sick too..." He murmured but didn't push you away too. You shrugged your shoulders while still hugging him "Then I will use a day off with my sick boyfriend, that doesn't seem so bad to me" Kunikida chuckled lightly "If we both use a day off at the same time, I can't imagine what sort of chaos would the agency have..." Then he slowly pulled himself back to see you eye-to-eye and started to ask you questions... How is the agency going? Were budget calculations accurate? Have you taken new cases? What kind of ruckus did Dazai cause when he wasn't around to lecture him? How many calls did you get for his suicide attempts this time?

You told him about how you took care of everything on his behalf with everyone's help (well mostly with the help of Atsushi, Kyoka, Kenji, and Tanizaki siblings... basically with minors of Ada...) But even Dazai wasn't acting so "wild". He was whining about how the agency became too quiet and no-fun without Kunikida and all the joy he got from work vanished without Kunikida...

"Everyone can't wait to get you better love they are planning to visit you tomorrow night," you told with a smile. Kunikida coughed and covered his mouth, then mumbled: "I see..." You knew he did it to hide the light blush and embarrassed smile on his face, but you didn't tease him for it. After all, he was deserving it all...

Dazai Osamu

Here comes the drama king...

First, let's be honest here... He is treating his own body like shit... We saw him in his flat, this man doesn't even cook for himself. He literally feeds with sake and canned crabs only... Despite that, he doesn't get sick easily. He has the durability of a cockroach (i swear i love him, these insults are with affection)

He is the kind of person who doesn't get sick even there is a cold season and everyone around him got ill. He catches the sickness not more once than a year, but when he gets ill, it is always the most unexpected time.

Once, while he was still in the port mafia he got a very bad cold right before an important mission. When Mori saw his situation, he had to cancel the mission.

Because this man acts like he is on the deathbed when he is sick...

"So I made some research on the internet... With all these symptoms on me; either I have some kind of chronic illness, or brain tumor.. which leads us to the conclusion that I have only 2 weeks to live..." "Or, you have a cold, you shithead.." "Do not act like you are a doctor now Chuuya, or I will throw up to your precious hat..."

He didn't change much... The only difference is now he is being your boyfriend, you have to take care of this man like you are taking care of a child. He will act like he is much worse than he is to get all your affection and care... You will need a lot of patience, to be honest...

"Ew, there is no way I would drink that crap!" You thought for a millisecond to throw the bowl of soup to his face but you didn't have the heart for it. Even though he was acting like a spoiled brat, he was miserable right now. You knew he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, you had to convince him to put something in his stomach no matter what...

"Why don't you want to drink this babe?" you asked with your sweetest tone. Dazai shrugged his shoulders "It smells bad, makes me want to puke..." You tried again "What if you push yourself? Just a little? I know it doesn't look appetizing but this soup is too good for cold, you will feel better after your drink I promise..."

Dazai looked at you with defeated eyes, he couldn't resist any longer "..fine then"

With excitement, you took one spoon from the bowl and carefully held it towards his mouth, you were cupping the other hand under the spoon to keep it from spilling. Dazai slowly opened his mouth, only to make a sour face "It is too hot!"

"Sorry baby, my bad" you apologized and started to cool it down by stirring it with the spoon. You took another spoon from the bowl, this time you blew a little air before giving it to Dazai. When he started to make some teasing comments on you would be a great nanny, you decided he was already getting better. You tried to get up after he finished his soup, but Dazai held you weakly by his wrist. "You won't leave me alone on my deathbed, right?" You rolled your eyes: "You're an idiot, you know that right?" He smirked lightly "But I am your idiot, and you still love me..." You couldn't control your smile this time. You gently removed the hair on his forehead and gave him a little peck "Yeap... Only mine to love..."

well, i couldn't still get over from this week's episode and couldnt't write anything new. this was on the drafts and not proof readed, but i will still share it. fyodor stans can use it as a denial of ep 11 :')

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: This goes out to @kazutora-kurokawa She's a sicky right now and wanna make her feel better. Ilysm, Kaz. I hope this stupid ass cold leaves your vessel soon!

C/W ::: Sicky fluff. F.reader has a cold and Kazutora, Izana and Baji (separately) take care of you.

Kazutora

Doesn't quite know what to you when you first get sick, but quickly picks up on anticipating your needs. You sneeze? Here's a tissue.

Buys the one with lotion in it because the last time he was sick his nose was rubbed raw from blowing it so often.

Has a steady stream of fluids coming your way (oj or any j you want, water, gatorade, tea to warm you. He's got you.

Keeps the heat up even though he's hotter than hell.

Izana

Doesn't really want to be around you at first because what if he gets sick and can't perform his gang-ly duties.

Hears you coughing from the living room and feels awful that he's being such a pussy about this. It's just a cold.

Opts to wear a mask to take care of you.

Ends up getting sick anyway but you're RIGHT there to take care of his baby ass.

Baji

Goes overboard getting you cold medicine because he can't decide between the 38 different kinds at the drugstore and you're sleeping so he can't call you and ask you what you wanted again WHY DIDN'T HE WRITE IT DOWN LIKE YOU SAID TO.

Has your pillows fluffed constantly and the covers pulled up around your chin.

Rubs your feet with menthol and puts socks on you before you slip off to sleep (again)

Wakes up with you in the night when you have a coughing fit and rubs your back until you're asleep.

@arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @katshimizuu @viburnt @southside-otaku

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)

but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.

you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.

YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader

TFP

Relic accident. Enough said.

The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.

That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.

Thank goodness they had clothes on.

After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.

The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.

The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.

Oh joy…

Ratchet

The Cold.

Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.

It was the next day that the symptoms came up.

Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.

“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy

Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.

“Do it Raf!”--Buddy

“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet

Puppy Dog Eyes activated.

“Please?”--Raf

“… fine.”--Ratchet

Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.

His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.

Worse that he was older than the other as well.

He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.

Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.

Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.

Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.

Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.

Miko plays him classical music for once.

Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.

He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.

Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.

Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.

This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.

Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.

Optimus Prime

The Hiccups.

Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.

“And what is this one?”--Optimus

Optimus already starting to drink.

“Sparkling water.”--Buddy

Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.

“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy

Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.

“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus

“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy

Then they heard the sound.

Optimus was surprised to hear it.

Then he made it again.

He looks a bit disturbed.

He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.

Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.

He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.

This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!

Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.

They all go through the list until they reach the last one.

Scaring him.

They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.

But Buddy had an idea.

A very dumb idea.

Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.

He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.

They sat on top of it.

Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.

Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.

Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.

No more hiccups.

Problem solved.

He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.

When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.

Arcee

The Mosquito bites.

Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.

And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.

She wanted to eradicate every single one.

Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.

“Why!”-Arcee

SMACK!

“Won’t!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“These!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Things!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Die!”--Arcee

SMACK!

SMACK!

Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.

“Felt that.”--Buddy

“Yep.”--Jack

The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.

With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.

The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.

Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.

Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.

When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.

Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.

Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.

She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.

Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.

When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.

She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.

Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.

Bumblebee

The Motion sickness.

Oh, the Irony.

Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!

He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!

Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.

He feels awful.

Sweaty

Clammy hands

And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.

Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.

Buddy looks at Bee.

“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Smokescreen

Bumblebee groaning.

“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy

Windows immediately roll down.

Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.

At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.

But that wasn’t the case.

Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.

Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.

It was just him.

Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.

He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.

When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.

He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.

His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.

Bulkhead

Throwing Up.

All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.

He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.

“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko

“Me neither!”--Bulkhead

“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”

“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko

Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy

“What?”--Bulkhead

“What?”--Buddy

The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.

He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.

Everything was good.

Until he got back to base.

He suddenly became pale and sweaty.

The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.

Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.

The mushy stuff did stink a lot.

He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.

Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.

Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.

No matter how good it tasted before.

He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.

The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.

He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.

When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.

He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.

Has so much more respect for them.

Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.

[mothiir]

the watcher from the wastes

Mortarion jerks it. That’s it, that’s the fic. @moodymisty and @kit-williams to blame, specially @kit-williams since I basically stole her entire idea.

cw: wanking. self loathing, sort of. mort being a creep and having issues with bodily autonomy. self harm in a weird 40k way. did not mean it to be this gross but ended up that way because morty.

—

—

This process is deeply unpleasant, and Mortarion prefers to go through it as little as possible — and yet you, cursed thing that you are, have forced him to drastic measures.

First of all: the mask must be removed. He unhooks it from his ears, curlicues of oily smoke escaping as the suction gives way. He holds his breath, keeping the toxic fumes nestled in his lungs as long as possible, and sets the mask onto his desk. His work-chair is hewn from the sort of raw pig iron that has Horus despairing. Brother I can have something nicer made — even something with a cushion —

Mortarion does not need such frivolity. It is a chair. He can sit upon it. Thus it serves its purpose.

He can hold his breath for hours, should he need to, but that would defeat the whole purpose of this exercise. With a moment to brace himself, Mortarion exhales the last of the gas, momentarily covering his face in a rank green shadow.

It dissipates, and Mortarion waits for a few heartbeats to pass before inhaling.

He tastes his own flesh: half-cooked, and putrefying.

It is not an unfamiliar taste — it’s almost nostalgic. For a moment, he is a boy once more, nailed to the bowels of an alien planet, eyes fixed on the distant, uncaring sky.

He inhales again. Sharper now. The glutinous phlegm his sinuses produced in a vain attempt to capture the worst of the toxins is starting to thin. He coughs it out into his sleeve, then spits on the floor. Another breath. His throat is always the worst. The gas rots the tissue within, destroying the tender membranes, rendering his voice raspy and ragged.

Without the constant application of the gas, his body has time to heal. And oh how the healing hurts. He hacks up a glob of snot, and then of quivering red tissue. Inside, his cells multiply frantically, like they know that they only have a scant space of time before the mask is reapplied and the perpetual injuring begins once more.

Another burst of coughing; then a frankly revolting sneeze — again, captured into the billowing sleeves of his robe.

He inhales again — and curses, because the healing has moved faster than last time, and his sense of smell has returned with a vengeance. By the Emperor’s ballsack, the stench is overwhelming. What —

He looks down at himself: robes stiffened with effluvia from experiments and battle, fresh gobbets of snot and rancid blood dripping off the end of his sleeves. Hm. Yes, well — that would explain it.

—

By the time he has finished bathing, his body has healed as much as it will ever be able to, and he feels acutely uncomfortable. Even without the influence of the gas, his voice is still a guttural rasp, vocal cords ruined from years of experimentation. His shoulders still hunch instinctively, used to crowding through narrow corridors; his eyes — though brighter — still have sclera of sulphur yellow, polluted with broken blood vessels.

When he inhales the poison of his homeland, at least he has an excuse for how broken his body still is. Without it, his weak flesh stands in testament to the monumental failure of his youth. Not only did he fail to slay the monster who held him captive, he failed to recover from its abuses, remaining a broken-limbed mess of a Primarch.

And yet — and yet a part of him enjoys this feeling. There is no pain in his throat, or behind his eyes; he is not subject to the constant cycle of his lungs rotting into slurry and healing themselves once more. His gums are shiny and pink, not sloughing off his teeth in grey scraps.

Best of all, his senses have returned to their Primarch peak. Even constantly poisoned, and half-crippled, he can smell and taste and hear better than any baseline — pathetic little things the lot of them, no better than scurrying ants.

Apart from…well. You smiled at him You did not cower from the pallour of his flesh, or cringe from the huff and click of his respirator. You looked him full in the face and you beamed.

Lord Primarch, you called him. Lord Mortarion.

And afterwards, to your friend, where you thought he couldn’t hear you: you never said he was handsome.

He pointed you out to Typhus, a little later. Asked his eldest son why they were so desperate for staff that they were now employing defective baselines, like you, who clearly had an incredibly limited range of vision — if you weren’t blind entirely. Typhus had informed him that he didn’t think you were blind — indeed, you had cleaned his armour to perfection just this morning — but if you displeased Mortarion he could have you —

No, Moration cut in. No, that wasn’t necessary.

Not blind. Just — stupid, possibly.

Probably.

Anyway — if you are stupid then he is a fool as well. And worse: he does not have the excuse of being mortal.

Soapy and slick, white hair hanging in a curtain down his back, Mortarion sits in the deserted communal showers and stares at a little plastic sleeve in his left hand. It’s sealed tight — waterproof, preserving the object within as well as can be hoped for. He wonders if you have noticed the theft yet. Probably. Serfs aboard the Endurance do not have many possessions — they do not need them. More than likely he’s caused a little bit of grief, with you either blaming yourself for the loss, or snapping at one of your fellows, blaming them.

He cannot bring himself to care.

His clothes are long gone. The serfs will incinerate them, and bring him new ones when he sends for them. Perhaps this time, he will not go so long without cleaning them. Humans have terrible senses, but he wagers that you would probably prefer —

He amputates that thought abruptly. It does not matter what you prefer. It does not matter what anyone prefers. This is a temporary indulgence to end his madness, and then he will move on.

The plastic crinkles as he opens it, his tongue dashing out to wet his lower lip. The garment is plain cotton, with a little green bow at the front.

Garment. Fabric. So many distancing words to cover up the fact that he has stolen your underwear. He can never let Horus find out. He can never let anyone find out. Even though there is no one here to witness his shame, he feels a flush creep up his back. His cock leaps eagerly as he takes himself in hand, his toes curling on the wet floor. It has been so long since he last touched himself.

It’s pathetic. It’s revolting. And yet —

Mortarion buries his face into the gusset of your underwear, inhaling deeply as he strokes himself. Your scent is faded, but still clings to the fabric, thick and musky and sweet. He can imagine burying his face between your thighs, just inhaling. He’d bite your soft flesh, leaving bruises the exact shape of his teeth — and he would not let them heal. He’d do it every night until they scarred, and you could not change clothes without remembering exactly whose bed you were crawling into.

His breath stutters; his drool seeps into the cotton as he sucks. He’s never taken anyone to bed — there have always been more important things — but he knows what he wants to do. He knows that you would smile at him, and stroke his scars with gentle hands, and welcome him in so deeply that no one would ever be able to pry him out. You’d let him ruin your insides, stretch you so no other man would ever be able to satisfy you again. He’d fill you up to the brim, and then he’d do it again, and again, and again. He’d make you swallow him until you were coughing his seed up, he’d cum in your hair and —

His orgasm rips through him like a tempest, so abrupt that he cries out in shock, cum spurting up over his chest. His flanks heave, and he comes back to his senses in a humiliating rush — he’s chewed through your underwear, shreds of fabric stuck between his teeth. He picks them out, grimacing.

A shameful display. He cannot wait to do it again.

[goldenempyrean]

"cmon you know i don't get sick" + “i’m just trying to get all this work done! i have no time to rest” for supercorp pleasee

i love your writing sm, thank youuu

"Take Me Home?"

〚 Notes - It’s been a while! I’ve been so swamped with work and other stuff, that I honestly haven’t had the chance to write in a while! Hopefully this makes up for it! <3〛

〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛

〚 Summary - Lena is overworking herself again, Kara has come to take her home. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1250 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Hey you, I’ve brought lunch!” Kara pushed opened the door to Lena’s office with a bright smile, the chirp in her bubbly voice brightening the room a little, “They were all out of those cajun fries you like so I got curly fries instead because who doesn’t like curly fri-“

She paused. Her smile slowly turning into a worried frown as she released something wasn’t right. Sure, the big stacks of piled up newspapers, reports and other random documents weren’t new. Ever since buying CatCo, it seemed Lena’s new office was constantly drowning in paperwork but usually there was a pretty ravenette sat neatly amongst the chaos.

Today, however, Lena was slumped over her desk, her dark hair disheveled and her usually sharp eyes were glassy and tired. She glanced up blearily as Kara entered, quickly trying to muster a smile that turned into a series of sneezes.

“Bless you,” Kara said softly, her brow crinkling a little as she tried to work out what was wrong, “You look awful Lee.”

“Gee, thanks, aren’t you a charmer?” Lena replied, her voice raspy and thick with congestion. She tried to laugh, but it ended in a harsh, wet cough. “Just what I needed to hear.

“Oh Roa, are you sick?” Kara exclaimed as the realisation hit her, dropping the takeout bag on the nearest surface and rushing to Lena’s side. “Why didn’t you tell me? What’s wrong, are you gonna be okay?”

She still wasn’t great at dealing with human sickness. Alex wasn’t one to get ill often and on the occasion that she would, the brunette would often hide it anyway, so Kara still wasn’t the best at judging when someone wasn’t feeling well.

In reply Lena sighed a little and shook her head in denial. Kara’s worried babbling was a little amusing, but her worry was misplaced, “Come on, you know I don’t get sick.”

“Well, that’s a lie.” Kara blinked a little cluelessly, “Everyone gets sick. You had the flu 2 years ago and then was that time just after you moved to National City when we ate that dodgy takeout, and it made you-“

“Okay!” Lena interrupted before she could continue her sentence, not wanting to relive the events. She rubbed her temples for a moment before sighing as she pushed yet another file aside, “You know what I meant, I don’t get sick easily. It’s honestly nothing, just a small bug.”

A “small bug” which moments later had her falling into a rather nasty sounding coughing fit, leaving her barely able to catch a breath before pitching forward helplessly with a series of sneezes, demonstrating quite perfectly how not okay she was.

Kara only hummed softly, shaking her head disapprovingly as she folded her arms over her chest, taking a few steps to stand just in front of her wife’s desk.

“Try again. That doesn’t sound ‘just a bug’ to me. You sound dreadful love.” The blonde sighed, reaching into her bag to pull out a packet of tissues which she offered out to her.

“Kara, honey, there’s nothing to worry about. I just caught a bit of a head cold, thats all,” Lena finally admitted but waved her hand dismissively at the offered tissues, but a damp sniffle undermined her action. “I’m still just trying to find something to link everything back to Edge in these old reports, I know it’s in here somewhere.”

It was work she’d been at it for days now. There was vital proof of Morgan Edge was behind some of the ongoing antics in National City. Just the sort of proof she needed to get finally get him. It was somewhere in these files, she knew it was! But chasing the already loose paper trail she was looking for was no easy task.

The Luthor opened up another file, reading over it for a moment before sighing and pushing it to the side when she realised it didn’t contain the information she needed. Lena turned her head away to muffle another short, rough cough into her elbow before letting her head fall onto her hands, “This is useless, it’s gonna take ages to find what I need like this.”

Kara sighed sympathetically, “I think you’d do better if you could actually focus love, let me take you home?” She offered as she went to the side to pour some water into a glass before offering it out to her.

Lena accepted the glass with a soft smile. She seemed to debate her offer for just a second, her tired eyes gazing longingly at Kara for a moment before she stubbornly shook her head with a firm decision, “I’m just trying to get all this work done, I have no time to rest. I can sleep when it’s done.”

This wasn’t going to satisfy her wife, however. The Kyrptonian knew how stubborn the Luthor could be, especially when it came down to work, but Kara was stubborn too, especially when it came down to the health of someone she cared about.

Kara raised an unimpressed eyebrow, her hand coming to rest on her hip, “And just how much sleep have you been getting recently?”

“Enough.” Lena mumbled somewhat evasively, her tired gaze not quite meeting the blonde’s eyes. She hadn’t been home in a few days, instead she’d been opting instead to sleep at the office or her lab at L-Corp.

Kara narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced. “Lena,” She began slowly, her tone gentle but firm, “You know you can’t keep running on empty like this. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re going to burn out. Then where will you be?”

Lena opened her mouth to argue, but the words were cut off by another round of violent coughing. She turned away, trying to suppress the fit, but it left her breathless and drained. When she finally caught her breath, she looked up at Kara with weary eyes, the fight in her slowly ebbing away.

“I just... I need to get this done, Kara,” Lena said, her voice cracking slightly, more from the strain than emotion. “Edge has been untouchable for too long, and if I don’t find something to take him down...”

Kara’s expression softened as she moved closer, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder and squeezing softly, “I know how important this is to you,” She murmured reassuringly, “But you’re not going to be any good to anyone if you work yourself into the ground like this.”

Lena hesitated, her resolve wavering under Kara’s pleading gaze. The thought of curling up in bed, of letting herself rest in the warmth of her love’s arms, was becoming more and more appealing. She knew she couldn’t keep going like this—not if she wanted to be effective in any of her roles, as a CEO, as a friend, as a wife.

Finally, she sighed in defeat, nodding slightly. “Okay,” She spoke, her voice was hoarse and barely audible, but Kara heard the whispered words nonetheless, “Take me home?”

The blonde smiled, finally glad to have broken through, “Of course sweetheart, come here.”

Kara extended a hand, helping lift Lena her up from the seat before pulling the Luthor into her arms, Lena let out a content sigh. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” She murmured, nuzzling her head into the safety of Kara’s neck.

Kara only smiled and kissed the top of Lena’s head as she held her a little closer. “You’ll never have to find out.”

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[hockeynoses]

R/oy x Jam/ie (Somno/philia Snz Fic)

Summary: Consensual somnophilia when Jamie has a cold. Includes snzing into the covers (inspired by this post and my original post about it is here). Roy has the kink.

Warnings: Mess. 2.2k.

-

Roy can’t fall asleep. He’s been trying for the past hour, but he’s just so fucking distracted. Lying in the darkness of their room, he can feel the heat of Jamie’s body beside him. He’s been listening to the cadence of his breathing, uneven with congestion.

Jamie’s so stuffed up that he’s forced to breathe through his mouth, drying his throat and causing him to wake in fits and starts with cute little snuffles and coughs, rubbing his face into the pillow, the sheets, whatever’s in reach.

Roy himself hasn’t escaped unscathed, not that he minds, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact. Jamie had fallen asleep on Roy’s chest, peppering him with enough wet, heavy sneezes to cause all Roy’s blood to flow straight to his cock. He had tried his best to remain still and not wake his boyfriend, reaching down with his free hand and giving himself a couple cursory strokes to take the edge off in the hopes that he’d settle back down after that.

After several minutes, Jamie had stirred with a syrupy sniffle and rolled off Roy to his side of the bed, facing away from him. Roy’s grateful for the relief, and the ability to move his limbs freely without the weight of Jamie’s muscle mass smothering him.

So here Roy lies, deciding whether or not to wrap a hand around his cock and finish what Jamie unknowingly started. His skin feels itchy with need. It’s been a special kind of exquisite torture, looking after Jamie when he’s this sick. He’s fucking irresistible enough on a normal day, but this… this is more than Roy can take. His nerves are a constant live wire, jumping to attention every time Jamie sneezes or lets out a particularly miserable groan. The heady tension of desire and restraint constantly thrumming through Roy’s veins. Flushes spilling down his neck in a way that has Jamie smirking into his tissues. It’s like something out of a wet dream.

Jamie knows, of course. They’d talked about it months ago. He had assured Roy that it was fine. They’re both into plenty of freaky stuff, and Jamie has a very open mind. He’d gone so far as to say it was charming, the cheeky prick.

He knows Jamie would do just about anything he asks him to, so Roy takes it upon himself to be the one to set boundaries. He insists they have a safeword, in this and any other kinky shit they get up to. He doesn’t want to take advantage of Jamie when he’s sick. Doesn’t want to press him, but he has to trust that Jamie would tell him if it ever got to be too much.

They’d even talked about –

Roy squeezes his eyes shut. Is he really that desperate?

Jamie said it was okay. That he was flattered, always happy for any and all of Roy’s attention and love.

Their conversation from earlier that day flashes through Roy’s mind, as if to prove to himself that it actually happened.

-

“You dknow how we talked about… mbe being asleeb?” Jamie asks as he finishes blowing his chapped nose for the millionth time.

Roy grunts in affirmation, laser-focused on his boyfriend.

“You could sdtill do that, whend I’b like this.”

Something coils in Roy’s gut, sinister and so, so tempting. They joke about him being a sadist, but this feels like a lot, even for him. But oh god, he wants it.

He knows as soon as Jamie says it that he’s going to do it. How could he not? Now that Jamie’s offering it to him on a silver platter.

“Are you sure?” he forces out, his throat tight with lust.

“Of course. I trust you.” Jamie says. He presses the crumpled tissue to his pink, dripping nostrils. “And one of us mbight as well enjoy ihh… hih’AEETTSHH’uh! SNF. Endjoy id.”

“Okay,” Roy says, the idea taking shape in his mind. “You do need your rest.”

“Exactly, mbate. We can both get what we want.” His tired, red-rimmed eyes soften. “Love that you’re still into mbe evedn when I’b disgustin’.” He gives a playful leer that quickly dissolves into a wrenching sneeze. “uh…ha…HA’IGGHHSH’IUE!”

And Roy can’t go another second without touching him after that.

-

Roy’s cock twitches at the memory, dragging his attention back to the present.

His hard-on is insistent now; it hasn’t flagged at all. Probably because Jamie’s lying next to him making all sorts of sounds and Roy can’t focus on anything but that. Every noise he makes only serves as a reminder to Roy of just how full of cold Jamie is. He’d taken a considerable amount of Nyquil before bed to combat it, or at the very least to knock him out, and it seems to have only accomplished the latter.

Unable to take anymore, he decides to give in, reminding himself that he doesn’t have to feel guilty. Jamie asked for this.

He curls against Jamie, blanketing his back with the warm line of his body. He brings his hands to Jamie’s hips, buries his face in the nape of his neck, smelling the familiar warmth of Jamie’s skin. Jamie snuffles a bit – and Roy freezes – but he stays asleep.

His cock fits perfectly between Jamie’s pert ass cheeks, and Roy digs his fingers into the skin of Jamie’s hips as hard as he dares to pull him closer. Panting his hot breath against the back of Jamie’s neck, already so worked up. It’s like he’s popped the cork of a shaken bottle of champagne and all his desire is spilling out of him. Their bodies are sleep-warm beneath the sheets, and Roy feels like he’s going to combust. He starts a slow, easy grind against Jamie’s ass, forever grateful that the man sleeps with no pants on.

Jamie breath hitches and he groans out a little sound – Nng – nuzzling his face against his pillow. Roy doesn’t stop.

His runny nose has already leaked onto the pillowcase. Roy’s had to switch them out every day, throwing the snotty things in the wash. If Roy lifts his head a little, he can watch Jamie’s face contort, nostrils flaring as a sneeze builds in his sleep. Jamie’s chest expands as his breath picks up – “huh… huh-ggsh’TCHH’iue!” The sneeze sends mess bubbling from his nose, spraying down onto the sheets and his chest.

He still doesn’t blink awake. The Nyquil must have really knocked him out. The thought goes straight to Roy’s dick, heady with the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted and Jamie might not even wake up; a sick power trip that’s been gifted to him.

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth, pressing his forehead to Jamie’s shoulder as his thrusts turn more desperate.

Jamie snuffles again, his sinuses thick as molasses. His open mouth sucks in a sharp breath before – “ha’kxxgsh’uh!” another viscous, sickly sneeze coats his upper lip and the pillow below him. He moans, and Roy, through the haze in his own brain, tries to decipher if it’s in discomfort or if it has to do with the fact that Jamie’s dick is thickening up now – his body reacting to Roy even like this – dead to the world, sick as a dog, and hopped up on drugs. If there’s one constant in this life, it’s that Jamie’s going to get hard for him.

Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me, he thinks.

Needing more, he lifts Jamie’s leg as gently as he can – he’s so fucking pliant like this - and thrusts his dick between his fucking tree trunk thighs; one of the many benefits of dating a professional footballer. It provides him with just the right amount of the friction he’s so desperately seeking, the corded muscles like a vice on his dick.

The tight heat of Jamie’s thighs sends Roy careening closer to the edge, a growing, molten pressure in his gut. He’s still not awake yet, Roy marvels, breaking a sweat.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Jamie’s breath starts to hitch again - little frustrated gasps in and out. Roy doesn’t halt the movement of his hips. He buries his face in the back of Jamie’s neck and keeps pumping into that warm, inviting place between his thighs.

“ah…hah… ha’NGGSSHH’UH!” The sneeze rocks them both as it tears out of Jamie, spraying the sheets and clinging to the bottom of his face in a sheer glossy mess. Roy’s hips stutter with another sharp spike of lust.

Jamie groans, low and confused, and Roy feels it reverberate through him where he’s fused to Jamie’s back.

“Mm…Roy?” he mumbles, cracking his bleary eyes open. Roy slows his pace but doesn’t stop the rhythmic slide of his hips.

“I’m right here,” he says, his quiet voice strained with his quick breath. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

“Ngh… Cadn’t… heh… hih’nngg’SHOO! Ugh. Cadn’t breathe.”

Roy’s halfway to outer space right now, with the brain function to match, so he does the only thing he can think of and gathers the section of the comforter that’s in front of Jamie and presses it to his slick face. These sheets are fucked anyway, he reasons.

“Blow for me,” his voice rolls deep in Jamie’s ear. Jamie doesn’t even hesitate, still half-asleep and fuzzy from the Nyquil. He simply does as Roy says, mustering all the energy he has in his sleepy state to force out a gurgling blow, soaking the comforter with a heavy amount of snot.

“Good boy, get it all out.” He starts to pull the fabric away from Jamie’s face, strings of mess still tethered, when the sound of Jamie’s breath scissoring in and out goes straight to his dick. Fuck, he isn’t going to last much longer.

He props himself up on one elbow to have a better view of Jamie’s face as it contorts in a delicious pre-sneeze expression, still covered in mess and about to get worse. He doesn’t even have his eyes open, but his eyebrows pull up desperately as his red, wet nostrils twitch.

After one last sharp inhale of breath, a heaving double bursts from him - “huh… hih’AEESSHH’IUE! Hah…ha-Heh’GKSSHHTT!” – unleashed openly into the inches of space between him and the already-slimy comforter, coating it even further, spots of liquid turning the fabric dark where it lands.

“Fuck - Jamie.” Roy’s voice punches out of him, raw with need. Lightning jolts through him, his hips fucking into the tight clench of him, an exquisite pressure building. He sets his teeth against Jamie’s shoulder in a bite, as gentle as he can stand. Jamie groans and tries to snort up the congestion that’s shifted in his sinuses once again.

It takes all Roy’s concentration to arrange the comforter in his hand to find a clean spot and bring it to Jamie’s face for more.

“Come on. Again,” he grunts out, head swimming with his imminent orgasm. Jamie obeys. Of course he does. The squelching, miserable sound of it shivers down Roy’s spine. The viscous mess fills the section of fabric, drenching it through until Roy can feel it warm against his skin.

Fuck. Jamie’s breath starts to hitch again, and Roy thinks he must have done something very good in a previous life to deserve this. I’m so close, he thinks, his hips rutting in time with Jamie’s staccato breaths.

Jamie’s head rears back, pulling away from the sodden blanket before splattering it with another exhausted, desperate fit – “ah…hah’iiggh’SHIUE! Hih…hih-kngxxt’GSSHT!” The Nyquil and fatigue are banding together to turn his sneezes haphazard and unrestrained. His face is slack with it; mouth open as he heaves in another breath. “Ugh… ihh… hih’GgSHHuh! Hah… Hiiiih-ZZSSHHESSHH!” He finishes with a monster of a sneeze, sullying everything with a wrenching, wet deluge of filth.

Reaching a fever pitch, Roy’s thrusts stutter before pumping once, twice – then there’s a rush in his ears as he comes so hard he sees stars. Thick, white ropes of come coat Jamie’s thighs as Roy chases his pleasure, fucking him through it.

When Roy comes back to earth, he pulls out from Jamie’s thighs, hissing at the sensation. Nuzzling into Jamie’s neck, he peppers soft kisses against the warm skin there, luxuriating in the smell of him. Jamie sniffles and rouses a bit at that, and Roy tightens his hold around his middle.

One last time, Roy finds a dry part of the blanket - no easy task at this point - and wipes Jamie’s face clean as best he can.

“Roy?” Jamie blinks, half-awake as Roy pulls the blankets up around them. The sheets are truly disgusting, but only in certain spots. They’re both sure to wake up sticky tomorrow, but Roy’s too satiated and fucked out to deal with it right now. And he doesn’t want to disrupt Jamie’s rest any further. They’ll just have to enjoy a nice hot shower together in the morning, and Roy can throw the sheets in the wash then.

“Shh. You did so good, love.”

Jamie gives a sweet little moan and reaches for Roy’s hands around him, holding him there. He snuggles back into his pillow.

“Go back to sleep now. You need your rest.”

Roy’s hand drifts down to Jamie’s cock, checking the state of him, and finds him still half hard. Jamie cants his hips against Roy’s hand on instinct, but doesn’t give him much more than that.

Roy chuckles into his hair. He really does need his rest and Roy doesn’t want to risk waking him up further. It’s nothing that can’t wait.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you tomorrow.”

Jamie’s contented sigh is the last thing he hears before sleep pulls him under.

[natsuki208]

Whenever the 104th squad members get sick 🤒

(I have a sore throat right now and so, I decided to do this)

-

Eren - You thought he’s really moody normally? Well when he gets sick, it’s doubled. He constantly calls for his parents to get food or water or even open his window for him. Doesn’t seem like it’ll change anytime soon.

Mikasa - One of the few times where people see a weak side of her. She becomes very quiet and naps almost all day, only ever waking up to go and get fluids for her dry throat. Yes, she always ends up walking just fine.

Armin - He cannot handle sickness at all. Always sniffling, always coughing and one time, it was so bad that he lost his voice. He stays wrapped up in his bed sheets all day, and the one thing that helps him is reading.

Jean - He’s almost as moody as Eren, but in a different way. His mother will constantly check up on him herself and every time he yells at her to leave him be. That’s what an illness does to an easily embarrassed teen.

Marco - The poor freckled boy finds it hard, even for him, to stay smiling while sick. Luckily he doesn’t mind his mother and sister looking after him, although things get more challenging with Jean watching over him.

Connie - Very whiny and a big liar. Whenever his family turns their backs for one second, they hear video games coming from his room. It’s a new rule in their house when he gets sick and he does not appreciate it.

Sasha - At first, when she was a child, she was mad for never getting to eat anything she likes while sick. Over the years she did got use to it fortunately. Her family learned to make the finest, delicious soup for her.

Historia - Whatever it could be, her big sister Frieda, is always there for her. They’d tell stories from books or from their day-to-day lives. Even if not needed, Frieda always has a barf bucket right away just in case.

Ymir - It’s rare to see her sick, but when she is, Historia takes all the learning from her sister and nurse her girlfriend. She’s the only one Ymir feels comfortable to be sick around, she’d strike out anyone else.

Annie - At first she won’t admit it but once she comes clean, she feels very pathetic. Almost never leaving her room and remains quiet. Hugs from her father are needed.

Reiner - Like Annie, wouldn’t admit at first but gives in once he starts sneezing like an elephant. Everyone of his friends checks on him through texts and he always replies with he’s doing great and still kicking (but he’s not).

Bertholdt - There’s not much of a difference between how he normally behaves with when he’s sick. Except when he’s fast asleep, he rolls around due to his temperature that he falls off his bed… multiple times.

[sneezeshame]

someone laid up in a large, overstuffed lay-z-boy recliner, head rested on pillows and body wrapped in blankets pulled from their bed to make them more comfortable as they start to battle some kind of monstrous cold. it hit them like a truck just the day before, and now their bagged, heavy-lidded eyes are glazed as they stare blankly at the TV, breathing through their constantly parted chapped lips. they've crammed tissues up their flaming red nostrils in an attempt to just lie motionless for a while without having to tend to their stuffy, streaming nose, but every so often their breathing becomes heavier and their eyes wince closed as they hitch, pulling out their nose plugs and readying a thick wad of tissues from a box they've been pulling from for the past day. their sneezes are heavy, thick, and wet, and end with a flurry of sickly sniffling and a long, tentative nose blow, followed by a round of chesty coughs and a soft, stuffy groan from their parted lips.

they're very pale, they clearly dont want to do anything or even talk much at all, and they shiver under the blankets and ask their partner for an ice pack for the splitting headache they've developed. the expired cold medicine from the cabinet doesnt seem to make a dent, and when it comes for another round of nyquil their partner clocks their temperature at 101, creeping up towards 102. the sickie was wrong, and it isn't just a cold (as was obvious to their partner, who's never seen a cold this bad); in fact they're actually on day 1 or 2 of the flu, and a bad case of it. they're going to be spending the next 4-6 days slowly shuffling between their bed and the couch and recliner as their partner takes the guest bedroom, and it's going to get worse before it gets better.

the sickie takes this news better than anticipated, now feeling too sick to argue, and only sniffles miserably and says okay, then asks for something for the newly-sprung aches and pains all over their body.

"I think you're past the asprin we have," their partner says. "I might have to run out and get something a bit stronger for this."

"...Ogay..." the sickie mumbles, and sniffles. the first pricklings of chills are running up and down their body under their pajamas. "...cobe bagg sood...I dodd feel good add all..."

their partner leaves, and the sickie resumes staring blankly at the TV while they sniffle and cough, and their eyelids droop. they hadn't felt this sick in years, and while their partner had gotten their flu shot, they hadn't bothered. they had the feeling they would need to retreat to bed for a bit once their partner returned, just so they could lay motionless in the dark for a bit with their eyes closed and an icepack on their head, but they also didn't want to lose any warmth they had trapped in their sick nest in the lay-z-boy, or aggravate any aches more than they had to; maybe they would just stay put. but they would have to lay down in bed for the night.

the night was going to be rough, and they already feel horrible. they feel ten times worse than they had yesterday. they feel bad for having their partner do things for them. they feel miserable, like they're teeming with viruses, and they feel like their body is slowly melting into a heavy, mucusy blob of flu in their living room, unable to do anything but cough and sneeze and sleep propped up in the recliner, and indeed this last scenario is what they dream they are when they dose off and start into soft, congested snoring around the tissues they've stuffed up their nostrils, waiting for their partner to come home.

[male-fanfics-for-days]

Check-ups Can be Rough

Arthur Morgan X Male Reader

A/n: A little fanfic idea I had while doing laundry, please don't ask why I am just really gay for this cowboy.

Warning: a slight sexual theme towards the end

Some of the men in camp had just gotten back from a decent-sized robbery, Arthur and you included in that group. Now in camp, you were quick off your horse and ushering the men into your medical tent to be checked before they were allowed to go about the rest of the day.

You were the camp's actual doctor, as helpful as Reverend Swanson's medicines could be in the harder situations, you were actually trained in what you did by professionals. Those same professionals taught you how to use a gun, specifically long-ranged weapons, you favoring the sniper. It was actually your attempted killing of Dutch van der Linde that brought you into the gang.

Charles went into the tent with you first, as he was usually the one in first if no one was obviously hurt. He wasn't ashamed to get checked over by the doctor, other men in camp thought going to you was a slight show of weakness.

After Charles was Javier, then John, a stubborn Bill Williamson, then Micah

Arthur would have gone after Charles but Dutch wanted to speak with him just as he had gotten back. Never one to half-ass things, you had Arthur promise to come to visit the medical tent after he was done, even if you gave him a quick once-over to see he was fine.

So, after talking with Dutch, he made his way over to your tent. Most times your tent flaps were closed when checking over someone, but you had assessed that none of them were hurt enough to need the privacy of a closed area. This meant Arthur could see you looking over Micah as he walked up.

He stayed quiet outside the tent, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the poles of the tent fixed to the ground, simply watching you work.

Arthur wasn't too ashamed to admit he was impressed by you. You worked in an efficiency he could only dream of achieving, always on point with everything you do but especially your shots. He's seen you first hand down men 100 meters away, and that was with a bow!

Then came your medical work. You never left anything to chance, not a cut, bruise, cough, or sneeze that happened in camp you didn't hear and check on. It was seen as overbearing and unnecessary to some, but Arthur knew that this carefulness came from a good heart.

You'd confided in him about how you were taught. Sure, you had read some books, but you were mostly learning by action. You saw firsthand how even the smallest cut could kill a man by infection, that an unassuming bruise of the skin could lead to amputation because of an ignored issue.

You knew you could be a bit too much sometimes, but after coming to care about (almost) everyone in camp, their wellbeing was on your mind constantly.

He watched you switch between looking over Micah's physical form to listening to his breathing and his heartbeat, which made the man swat your hands away.

"Alright alright, we're done here." He stands from the chair you had everyone sit in, glaring at your hands. "I ain't need to be fussed over anymore, I'm fine."

"That is for me to determine, Mr. Bell." You grit your teeth at him, putting away your stethoscope, pushing on his shoulders to sit him back down.

"Everyone gets the same checkups, and I just had to dig a 3-day-old bullet out of your shoulder."

"And I'm telling you, Doctor," Micah spits out in mockery. "I'm fine."

Micah goes to push you off him, but you shove him into the chair quickly. You put your knee on his chest, forcing the chair to lean back and hit the table behind it. Micah flailed for a moment but went still when you just as quickly brandished a small nearby scalpel (still clearly covered in Micah's blood from getting the bullet out) and put it close to his throat.

"Now, Mister Bell," You speak lowly, your eyes going dark as you lean in closer to him.

"I am a doctor, the only one here, in fact. You may not like it, but I'm the only one who can keep you alive in this camp, and if I see fit? I could turn a blind eye to your injuries."

Despite being pinned in a chair, leaning back on a table, and unable to sit up, Micah chuckles darkly.

"You ain't got the nerve." His voice dripped with venom. " The only kills you've gotten were from people dumb enough not to look in the trees, you monkey. Even today, you were hiding away and shootin' from afar, too afraid to fight like a real man."

"A real man, you say?" You scoff, leaning back and letting Micah's chair fall back to the ground as you back away.

You turn from him to the table on the other side of the tent, and having thought he won, Micah smirks.

Then, yelps and flinches as a much bigger knife than a scalpel embeds itself into the chair, right in the space between his legs and extremely close to his nethers.

Micah looks at the blade in shock then turns his head up to look back up at you, still standing in the motion of throwing it. A dark look in your eyes as you sigh through your nose.

"I'll tell you right now, Micah Bell, as good as I am with a rifle?" You point to his crotch. "I'm even better with a blade."

Looking back down, Micah sees that the blade was so close to his crotch and so sharp, that it sliced a thin hole right through it. While looking at the knife he doesn't see you walk over and pull it out of the chair's wood, swiping it near his face so close that it took a few strands of hair with it.

You take a cloth off your belt and wipe the blade down as if it being close to Micah was enough to dirty it. You turn your back to him once more and wave the blade out, dismissing him.

"Now get the fuck out of my tent."

Micah sat for a moment in stunned silence, as if he didn't expect you to openly threaten him within earshot of others. But then he huffs, standing quickly and stomping out of the tent, pushing past Arthur even despite having enough space to leave.

Arthur had watched all of that happen with so much focus, he only just noticed after Micah had left that his eyes were dry from leaving them wide open the whole time.

He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing and his face felt hotter with every passing moment as he replayed what happen in his head. The way you silenced Micah, the way you held the blade, the way you stood, the way you talked. Everything about what happened made Arthur feel... something.

"Arthur," you called out, snapping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you.

You have a growing grin on your face as you clean your hands off in a bucket of water.

"Looking to camp in my workspace?"

Arthur gives you a confused look as you chuckle a bit and point down at his pants, a mischievous look in your eye.

"With your tent pitched I assumed you'd be staying awhile."

Horrified, Arthur looks down to see that, indeed... he had a very visible bulge in his pants. He gave an awkward cough, taking off his hat to cover himself, all the while you laughed.

If he wasn't red and hot in the face before, he sure as hell was now, your laughing at him sure didn't help.

"Alright, big boy, let's get you checked out quickly so you can deal with that in private."

With the realization of some feelings he had towards you, he also came to the conclusion that this was by far the most embarrassing medical checkup he's ever had.