A character who starts fussing a bit anxiously when another character gets chilled &/ drenched because they know how easily the other character catches colds... to considerable annoyance of the one fussed
vs
A character who becomes a disagreeable nagging grumpy pest when they get chilled &/ soaked because they know how easily they catch colds... to considerable annoyance of anyone else who's around and falls victim to their mood
For the Sickfic Caretaker Dialogue Prompts... 3 with Mulder saying it to Scully. Or literally any of them tbh that list is hella good. No pressure for a whole thing, I know you're super busy and I'm eagerly awaiting any of your fics, just thought it'd make a cute drabble!
Eeeeeeeeeeheeeee! This whole list IS so good, and the one you chose is absolutely delightful (I snuck in another prompt too, because so many of these are so perfect for these two). Thank you so much, Anon, for sending this prompt (and for being patient/eager while I wrap up several WIPs - they're sooo close to being ready to post! 🥰)
Notes: This little drabble (okay, longer than a drabble, oops) takes place sometime in mid S2, following [spoiler] S/cully's abduction and subsequent return. There is mention in one of the episodes that her "immune system had been decimated" upon her return which, while likely intended to have more ominous plot implications at the time... why wouldn't I take that to mean that maybe she was a teensy bit more susceptible to catching colds, at least for a little while? 🤭
Word count: ~580
It seems like the kinder thing, after everything that’s happened, not to comment. Not on the way S/cully has spent the better part of the drive shivering inside her coat, nor on the way she has been sniffling quietly and steadily for the better part of the day, not about any of it. Each time M/ulder has carefully asked her over the last few hours if she’s all right, she’s withdrawn a little bit more into herself, so he’s stopped asking.
Twice, without saying a word, she has leaned forward to turn up the car's heater. He's already shed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves – and sweat is now starting to bead at the back of his neck – but beside him, Scully keeps tucking her chin down, tightening her shoulders against another chill, and tugging the sleeves of her coat down until her hands disappear entirely, so he says nothing.
Mulder is considering whether to at least offer her his jacket – long-since abandoned in the back seat – when she draws in a series of small, shaky breaths and turns sharply toward the window, burying her face in her sleeve with a pair of tightly-muffled sneezes.
"Hhh’mffKTtsch! ...’mpktSSCHhh!"
Instinctively expecting a third sneeze and finding himself curious in its absence, Mulder glances over to check on her. Their eyes meet briefly before Scully quickly drops her gaze, the back of one hand still curled lightly under her nose.
“...Excuse me,” she exhales quietly, still sniffling behind her hand.
It’s the first thing either of them has said in nearly an hour, he realizes, and although part of him is relieved just to hear her voice, he hates that she sounds both exhausted and apologetic.
It’s not your fault you’re sick, he wants to say, but since coming back, Scully has seemed determined to prove – To him? To herself? To the Bureau? To whoever took her? He isn’t quite sure – that she’s fine. That she’s capable. He wants to tell her she’s the most capable person he’s ever known, but can’t ever seem to find the words.
“Bless you,” Mulder says instead, just as quietly.
She nods, sniffles, and leans forward to turn up the temperature dial again. For a moment, he is almost incredulous – there is no possible way she could still be cold – and then he notices her hand trembling before she tucks it away again.
Acting on an instinct he wasn’t aware he had, Mulder reaches over and presses the back of his hand lightly to her forehead. He’s not particularly well-versed in assessing illness, but even he can tell she feels too warm to the touch.
Scully makes a small, congested sound of protest, and he’s already lowering his hand when she starts to push it away.
“Yeah,” he confirms gently, for his sake as much as hers. “That’s a fever.”
Scully hunches further into her coat and faces forward, a tiny frown settling over her features.
God, how he’s missed that stubborn little crease between her eyebrows.
“I’b fide,” she mutters stuffily, staring straight ahead through the windshield.
He can hear the cold settling into her voice now, congestion thickening the cadence of her breathing, and wonders how much effort she’s been putting in to try and stave it off.
Mulder glances over at her again, one eyebrow raised in silent dissent. Scully turns her head just enough to meet his gaze, then rolls her eyes at his expression before turning away.
He smiles faintly to himself as he looks back out at the road ahead. It’s been months since he's seen that eye roll. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it —
Imagine hooking up with an attractive stranger - you're back at their place after a couple of hours of increasingly loaded conversation and there's no more beating around the bush. You're all over each other, and now they have you on your back on the couch whilst they hover over you. Their hand is down your pants and you can't believe how quickly your orgasm is approaching; they're good with their fingers. You expected to have to guide them at least a little, but no - they seem to be one step ahead of you when it comes to your pleasure.
Suddenly, they're lifting their head from where it's been nestled into your neck as they suck and nip at the skin there. You glance at them, taking in their expression of - dismay? Confusion? And then realisation hits you. Your whole body goes hot, and your genitals throb. Surely they aren't about to-
It happens so quickly - their hazy expression draws tight, face twisted in a near-snarl as they pitch downwards with an exceptionally violent and unrestrained sneeze. The spray catches the side of your face and the arm you had wrapped around them. They leant a little to the side, but not nearly enough to avoid dousing you. You gasp in shock, both at the sensation of the spray settling on your heated skin and the way the sneeze had been absolutely perfect. Just the right mix of vocal desperation and spraying wetness. Their unguarded expression before and during their sneeze was painfully erotic in its naked vulnerability. To top it all off, their hand is still stroking you with expert precision, having barely faltered as they convulsed. You feel your orgasm lurch even closer. And then they sneeze all over again.
It's another incredibly intense, open affair; the spray drenches your arm as they sneeze with what seems, and certainly sounds, like all of their might. The sheer force of the eruption shudders through not only them but you and the entire couch. They seem to have purged the tickle - you watch through unblinking eyes as their expression loosens and becomes one of self-indulgent satisfaction - basking in the aftermath of a truly relieving pair of sneezes. They lick their shiny lips clean and sniffle, then peer down at you in unabashed pleasure and mutter a shameless 'Bless me. Those felt fucking incredible.'
You cum instantly, writhing underneath them and groaning, their fingers moving gently with it and prolonging the release for you. When you finally sag back into the cushions, twitching and gasping, you see them staring at you inquisitively. They reach up with their free hand and sniffle, rubbing their itchy nose from side to side whilst they continue to watch you. Their nostrils flare and glisten with wetness; the motions of their efforts result in an audibly damp squishing sound. When you are unable to stifle another moan in response, your body shuddering with a couple of residual orgasmic spasms against their hand, their face splits into a grin.
You know they've got you all figured you out, and you want to be mortified at the degree of your transparency, but your body and mind are far too blissed out - and, like a benevolent sex god, their fingers are continuing to delicately stimulate you, promising many more orgasms to come. When they lean forward and rub their nose against your own, you exhale shakily. Then they tilt their mouth towards your ear, and say:
'I have the most aggravating tickle in my nose. I just want to sneeze. Will you help me?'
The irrepressible orgasm that rips through your body in response is the only answer they need; they laugh gently, working you through it. You're in for a long night.
I can’t get the idea of someone who is sick and keeps having false starts is still super sensitive enough that maybe their partner doesn’t even have to used a rolled tissue, feather, or q-tip to induce. The pad of their finger softly grazing over their red, twitching nostrils and scrunching nose bridge is enough to get all those tickly sneezes spilling of their nose (with whatever else flows out as well)
Imagining a sick character coming up to their friend/partner and, rather than announcing that they're sick, simply leaning against them like a cat. Cue the other's exclamation of "wow, you feel warm," and the sickie mumbling "I know" into their shoulder. Bonus points if they're not usually this touchy feely.
I'm so into apologetic sneezes. Like the excuse me, pardon, sorry something really tickles in my nose, so sorry I really can't help it. It just gets to me. It's so hot and so adorable at the same time, it drives me nuts.
someone bundled up waiting at a crosswalk being taken by a sudden fit of stifles, and their partner putting an arm around them to guide them forward when the signal changes
the other night my bf was spooning me and i sneezed about 6 times spaced out and good lord. it started with “bless you” and then “bless you baby” and then moved into “aw are you okay are you getting sick?” “that was five poor baby” and then commentary on how cute my sneezes are and how he’d take care of me if i was getting sick
it of course ended with me guiding his hand between my legs
Out of all the phrases to dub someone as “sick”, there is something particularly delicious about the term “unwell” or any variation of.
I’m imagining a person gently cupping the side of a sickie’s face, taking in their sweat-dappled brow, their loss of color aside from flushed cheeks and a red nose, the sheen across their eyes that tells of a mild fever potentially getting worse.
They frown as the sickie melts into their palm, and they coo out:
I lived out a snzfic irl today and I am actually going to need 4-6 business days to recover because this is what went down:
The setting: a meeting room (many of us around a table listening to a presentation and looking at a screen)
The situation: one of my colleagues (A) is presenting. we're all listening intently. Then there's a sneeze from another one of my colleagues (B) at the table (who immediately apologizes) but A keeps speaking.
Five seconds B sneezes again. Then, on the heels of it another one, and then A at this point pauses in her presentation and kind of smiles and tilts her head and looks at B — and to be honest we're all looking at B at this point — because she's sneezing AGAIN.
B realizes that the entire table is now staring at her (not unkindly just kind of vaguely concerned and also collectively amused because she's usually so soft-spoken but evidently sneezes at least five times as loud as I think any of us have ever heard her even speak before 🫠🫠🫠) and goes "...Sorry. I'm sorry! It's the pollen!"
To which another one of my colleagues (C) goes: "...Inside?"
And I swear to god you cannot make up this comedic timing but B sneezes again (loudly) which made everyone laugh and then says "I think it followed me inside."
...And then asks if someone could pass them the tissue box at the end of the table.
....And guess who was sitting closest to it? 🫠
YEAH. YOURS FUCKING TRULY.
So as A gets back to her presentation, continuing where she left off I'm trying not to blush as I grab the box and slide it down to B.
And yes, you would be correct in assuming I did not absorb or retain one single word from the rest of that presentation.
a sickie who's too tired to take proper care of themselves, so when their partner finds them, all they can do is sigh softly and say "oh sweetheart, why didn’t you at least text me?"
I will NEVER be over the gentle little "shh, you're okay" + a hair stroke from one character to another who's feverishly and fearfully mumbling in their sleep
i like the idea of a person having to drag somebody out of bed when everyone knows they’ve been sick, and they feel totally guilty about it but for some reason the need for the other person’s skills, knowledge, and/or presence is important enough to override the hideous cold they’re just in the middle of fighting
a little H/C cold snzario (with many possible directions) that's been on my mind lately...
A, who is determined not to let B in on the fact that they are coming down with a cold, ultimately failing to fully hide their slowly worsening symptoms over the course of several hours/days...but accidentally succeeding when B just assumes A's "allergies are acting up again." (Maybe B has articulated this outright to A, or maybe they have just kept it to themselves)
For whatever reason -- perhaps A knows B will make a fuss if they're sick, perhaps B has a thing about contagion, perhaps a secret third thing? -- A does not correct them. Perhaps A even doubles down on trying to prove that they're "fine" or "not sick" by trying to sniffle as quietly as possible, attempting to muffle/stifle every sneeze, doubling their caffeine intake to combat the fatigue that's settling in, and generally biting off more than they can chew.
Perhaps, this little misunderstanding goes on for days, leaving B increasingly baffled/frustrated that A is seemingly refusing to acknowledge or take something for their allergies (which B knows A can usually pretty easily manage with medication).
and now, to add some H/C (choose your own adventure style):
At some point, B gets so annoyed by A's constant (despite their best attempts) sniffling and sneezing that B eventually snaps: "Oh my god, A. Will you just take a damn antihistamine already!?"
A is immediately taken aback/hurt by B responding this way. This combined with the fever they definitely don't have, perhaps A responds in one of several possible ways:
1. A's eyes well up with tears, their chin wobbling as they quietly admit to B that they really don't feel well. B immediately feels terrible for assuming this was something A could have controlled.
2. A defensively insists that they're fine, snarkily apologizes for bothering B so much, and leaves -- only for B to come searching for A little while later later, finding them curled up somewhere and shaking with a fever/chills.
Both options 1 & 2 obviously could immediately roll into B caring for A who perhaps is too worn down at this point to protest it, and secretly (or not so secretly) welcomes it. Unless of course, A is so stubborn they reject all of B's attempts to make it -- and them -- better, leading to even more tension.
are they partners? friends? platonic? romantic? enemies? frenemies? fighting? separated? reconciling? living together? stuck together/temporarily forced to be in close proximity with one another? you choose!!
A bit oldschool, but: a person having a desperate sneezing fit in a phone booth. They think they are unobserved and really let go, holding a hand over the phone speaker so the person they called doesn't hear the sneezes. But the person outside waiting for the phone booth to be free certainly sees them dissolve into the desperate sneezing fit...
