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spicywhumper · 2 months

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@febuwhump 2024: day 08. "why won't it stop?" + @femslash-february bingo 2024 (dark edition)* - "I didn't know who else to go" + whump bingo - comfort

series: the midnight tales / chasing the dragon | rating: teen and up audiences | word count: 1,070

content warning: blood and bruises, mentions of child abuse**, aftercare of said child abuse

* this is pre-relationship. warning for interspecies relationship even if they both look very human?

** Sienna's not aware of how bad the abuse is, she thinks Zoe's dad beats her only when they fight really bad and doesn't know it's an almost daily ordeal (even if she knows that Zoe heals too fast to be a normal human being). she also doesn't tell anyone because Zoe made her promise. they're only 16 here, so all Sienna can do is offer help and comfort when Zoe seeks her for it

since Dragons hibernate, Sienna's used to sleep very, very little. a couple of hours at most, and only when she's so exhausted that breathing seems to need lots of effort.

so she's, as usual, is wake when little, tiny rocks are thrown on her window. she sighs. not that she doesn't want to see Zoe, she's always happy to see Zoe, but it's a Wednesday night and they have a big test tomorrow, her human friend is supposed to be sleeping, since Zoe does need to sleep eight hours a day.

but she knows that Zoe only shows up at, she checks the bedside clock, 2:47 in the morning when she has a good reason. it's often one of her extremely graphic nightmares. the kind that Sienna doesn't know why she has, since Zoe's a regular old 16 year-old girl who lives a relatively comfortable life.

most of the time, at least, they don't talk about her older brother.

they don't talk about how the nightmares are about his death, the one she blames herself and always will (there's no point in attending that she doesn't. and Sienna understands, a little bit, she'd blame herself too if she was in the car with him.)

so despite the hour and the mild irritation, Sienna leaves her bed and pads towards the door. a pebble almost hits her forehead as she opens it, a "sorry" is mumbled from three or so meters below her. Sienna steps back and waits the minute or so that takes Zoe to climb up the wall and teach her window.

she looks awful.

"sorry," she says, Zoe doesn't look like she should be on her feet. "I didn't know who else to go to."

Sienna drags her to the bed before she collapses in a sad heap on her floor. then she turns on the lights to check whatever is going on. it's not the first time Zoe comes to her hurt, with bruises on her neck and a handprint on her face. with marks in her back and chest painted black and blue. and she doesn't give details, she has mumbled something about needing to protect Zacky. sensitive, small Zacky that was the perfect target for their father's rage.

so Zoe put herself between them, so Zoe misbehaved and was the problem girl.

today the bruise on her back bares the perfect handprint of her Father's hand, her left eye is almost closed and there's blood on her nose and her mouth. dried and dark, Sienna imagines she has walked around for a couple of hours before deciding that she did need some help. Sienna's her best option.

with a sigh, she tries to ignore the heartache. it's almost a physical pain, like someone is squeezing her heart and filling her chest with thick blood. it's not fair, she's not the one often hurt. often bruised and marked because her father doesn't like the way his children act. because she needs to put herself in the way, stop him from hurting her brother and her mother and Sienna hates all of this.

she hates how she can't help more than when Zoe comes crawling towards her for some ice and a couple of bandaids.

"what happened?"

"a mild fight, as always," her voice sounds raspy. "can I get some water?"

"yes. stay here."

Zoe nods, she clearly relaxes under the confirmation that Sienna will help her. there's... something warm about the way Zoe feels safe and comfortable around her, maybe because Sienna also feels safe and comfortable around her. (she ignored stories about fated mates and everything, she doesn't think a normal human being would understand that level of stupid bond that you don't quite choose to have).

Sienna's all silently as she grabs a washcloth, the first-aid kid and ice. her parents don't mind Zoe coming around, but they worry a lot and Zoe's clearly quite uncomfortable when she received attention from adults. Zoe doesn't want to think about how she looks scared of anyone who might have any power over her. and as calm as her parents are, Zoe's instincts will still tell her that those people weren't human.

it's almost funny that Sienna doesn't unnerve her.

(don't think too deeply about it, there's no way it means more than Zoe simply knows you, she told herself.)

"will you tell me what happened?" Sienna asks as she sits in front of her friend, who looks almost... deathky pale.

"another stupid fight about Zacky," she mumbles. "dad grabbed his arm too tight, he teared up and dad tried to shove him against a wall."

Zoe tells her with a cold, detached and empty voice. a voice that Sienna knows it means she's trying to not feel and not think whatever she's actually feeling and thinking. Zoe's the most protective person she knows, and she is and gave met Dragons...

"tell me more."

"why?"

"because you deserve someone listening to you," she sighs. "it'll sting."

Zoe doesn't flinch as Sienna cleans the cut on her eyebrow, and as she cleans the dried blood across Zoe's bruised eye. there are many things Sienna makes the deliberate choice of not thinking about, Zoe's apparent high resistance seems to be one of them.

"there's more?"

a long minutes passes before Zoe nods and takes off her shirt. it'd be easy to be distracted by her developing body (her shoulder and arms and stomach, what her parents feed her with?) if half of her torso isn't a black and blue bruises. from under her armpit to her waistband, there are bruises on her arms too, as Zoe probably shielded her head with them.

Sienna wants to throw up.

she wants to kill that bastard.

"I hate it," Sienna whispers, digging the first aid box for that ointment she bought for bruise. she has been told it's safe for any species for as long as it's not eaten. "why won't it stop?"

"I can't let him hurt them. it doesn't hurt that much."

"Zoe."

"and I heal fast."

"it doesn't matter!"

"Sienna, it'll be gone by tomorrow sunset."

"yes, you still come here for healing help."

"I don't."

"you're here right now."

Zoe sighs, her face flushing: "no, Sienna, I come here because you... you comfort me," she looks anywhere but Sienna. "I feel safe with you."

"you should stay with me."

"what about Zacky? and mom? I'll not leave them!"

"one day he'll kill you!"

"and I'll not leave my brother and mom in his hands. I don't care if it's ruining me, I can't stop it. I need them to be safe."

"yeah? I need you to be safe."

"I'm sorry, I really am."

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday8 #femslash feb bingo #whump #whump community #whump blog #whumpblr #lady whump #whump aftercare #the comfort of hurt/comfort

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faofinn · 1 year

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No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

@whumptober

@whumptober-archive

Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Harrison let out a quiet groan, dizziness and nausea rising. He still wasn't convinced Steve was actually real, but it was better than the alternative.

“I know.” Steve soothed. “I’m sorry. We’re going to get you home now.”

They got out as quickly as they could, and Fred left Steve with Harrison in the back of their van whilst he went back in. None of these fuckers were getting away with it if he could help it.

There wasn’t much Steve could do in the van, with only basic supplies and a very unwell Harrison. He did his best, at least now he could see what he was doing, and wasn’t worried about getting shot whilst he did it. The gunshot wound was deep, and the shoulder was concerning. He didn’t want to do too much away from home, and so he carried on stabilising whilst they drove. He’d do the hard work in the safety and relative comfort of the basement. At least then he’d have all his supplies, x-ray and everything else, to make sure things were done properly.

The basement was quiet when they arrived, getting Harrison settled in their little resus bay. Steve knew why Fao was away, but he really could have used the extra pair of hands, he had to admit.

Harrison had spent the journey drifting in and out of consciousness, each pothole jarring his shoulder and taking his breath away. The basement was warm, though, such a welcome relief from the chill of the cell. As Steve set him on the bed, his stomach twisted again, and he realised all too late he was going to throw up.

He had nothing but water to bring up, though the retching had him almost blacking out. He couldn’t remember how long he'd been stuck with Henri, but he knew the other man's fun wasn't all to blame. With a pathetic whine, he tried to curl in on himself, confused and sore.

“It’s alright, Harrison. You’re home now, you’re safe.” Steve said, rubbing his back gently. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He soothed him as he retched, a bowl stuck under his chin.

His body trembled with exhaustion and shivered with the cold. Each breath was laced with a whine, no longer silent and stoic. Steve wouldn't hurt him.

He turned away for a moment, to discard the bowl and grab what he needed. “I’m going to get a cannula in, alright? Get you some painkillers, some fluids to make you feel better.” He said, unsure if Harrison could actually hear him. He took his good arm, quickly found a vein, and didn’t waste any time with the cannula. “Sharp scratch.” He warned, but got it in easily.

Harrison had tried to pull his arm away, but Steve's grip was too strong. He supposed it might mean he'd get some relief from the pain, but the sudden realisation he might just knock him out had him panicked.

"No. I don't want it."

“It’s alright. Just some painkillers, nothing nasty.”

"I'm sorry."

“It’s okay. Just some painkillers, yeah? It’ll help.”

"Don't hurt me."

“I’m not going to. I’m going to help, yeah?”

"Promise?" He finally looked up at Steve, searching the older man's face.

“Promise.” Steve said firmly. “I’m going to need to put that shoulder back in, and that might hurt a bit, but let’s sort your pain first okay?”

Relief flooded his features. "'Kay."

“I won’t lie and say there’ll be no pain, but I’m going to be helping.”

Harrison nodded, letting Steve fuss around him. The promise of pain relief was good enough for him to leave Steve in control. Besides, he knew he'd be useless if he tried, aside from getting in the way.

Steve carefully gave the pain relief. “Give that a moment to kick in. Just keep breathing through the pain for me, I know it’s hard.”

He hummed, quickly feeling the pain relief, the room spinning. "Did Fao get away?"

“Made it to the safehouse, yeah.”

"Mm, good. Henri had it all planned. Had to do something to distract him."

“This is a bit overkill though, Hars.”

"He went too far."

“What a cunt.” Steve muttered. “How’s the pain now?”

"Better."

“You’re soaked to the skin. Can I get these clothes off?”

Fear flashed across his face. "He found the water."

“I can tell. There’ll be no more of that, not here. I’ll get some warm, dry clothes.”

"Okay." He sighed. "You can just cut it. I'm not moving my arm."

“They’re wrecked anyway.” Steve said, grabbing his shears.

"Yeah. I don't want them."

Steve worked quickly, and soon the wet clothes were discarded, replaced with thick blankets for now. He’d get proper clothes once everything was sorted.

He knew he needed to sedate Harrison to reduce his shoulder and sort his fingers. The pain relief had worked, but he was going to need more than that.

“Hars? I need to sort your shoulder now.”

"How?"

“It just needs putting back in place.” He said gently. “I’ll give some more for the pain, and some antisickness. Won’t take long.”

"Okay."

Happy that was good enough consent, Steve gave the antisickness and the dose of sedation he wanted. It would be best if Harrison didn’t fight this, even better if he didn’t remember.

"Steve?" He asked thickly.

“Yeah?”

"Dizzy."

“That’s okay, that’s just the meds. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve wouldn't lie. "Alright."

“Nice deep breaths for me. Well done, you’re doing so well. How are you feeling?”

"Still hurts."

“I’ll get you some more meds.” Steve said gently, turning away to give more. “There. We’ll let that work.”

He frowned. "Fucking hell."

“Sorry, sorry. What is it? Dizzy?”

Harrison nodded, doing his best to breathe through it. "Too much."

“I’m sorry.” Steve said gently. “Try and relax into it, yeah? You’re safe now.”

"Trying."

“I know. You’re doing great.”

He gave a huff in response, too out of it to do much else.

Happy now he was properly relaxed and sedated, Steve could get a quick x-ray of Harrison’s shoulder and fingers. It was obviously dislocated, and the fingers broken, but it was good to have some images as a starting point. Still happy with his sedation, he could then go about putting the shoulder back, carefully grasping his arm. It was hard - it had obviously been out of place for a while - but he was well practiced by now and took his time.

Harrison whined as Steve started to manipulate his shoulder, the drugs clouding his rational thought. "Get off."

“Sorry, it needs to be done, Hars.” Steve told him. “Won’t be long.”

"It hurts."

“I know, I know. Just give me a minute, yeah?”

"Please." He murmured. "I've been good. I've had enough."

“I’m helping, I promise. Just give me a minute.” Steve groaned, and managed to shift the joint back into socket.

Harrison moaned in pain, trailing off into a relieved sigh. It still ached, and the muscles spasmed around the joint. He struggled to get comfortable for a moment, shifting in the bed. The relief from the relocation was simply bliss, and he soon found himself drifting.

“You keep that still for me.” Steve said, glad Harrison had stopped fighting. He needed to sort the leg wound out now, and he worried that would set him off again, but he didn’t have a choice. Delicately, he cut through the makeshift bandage, trying to get a better look at the wound itself now he had better light.

He whined as the bandage was pulled off his leg, the dried blood sticking to the wound. He stretched his good arm out to push Steve off, confused why he'd be hurting him again.

“Sorry, I know it hurts. I need to stitch it.”

"No."

“I know it’s not nice, I won’t be long. It’s nasty though, Harrison, it needs looking at.”

"Steve." He whined, aware he was acting childish, but too out of it to care.

“I know. I’m really sorry, I’ll be done soon.” Steve murmured. “Try and relax, yeah? I bet you’re exhausted.”

"It's nasty because he shot me."

“Because he’s a cunt, which is why I need to sort it.”

"Gently."

“Of course gently.”

"Good."

“I’m going to numb it in a minute, alright? Then it won’t be sore.”

"Good." Harrison nodded to himself.

Steve reached once more for his supplies. “It’ll sting, but then it’ll be better.”

"Promise?"

“Promise.” Steve murmured.

"Please be gentle."

“As gentle as I can be.” He reassured, starting with the local. “It’ll sting, sorry.”

Harrison groaned. "Ouch."

“I know.”

"I need a drink."

“Maybe later, yeah?” Steve said, taking his time to numb the whole area. “I’ll get you something to help.”

"After this."

“After this.” Steve agreed, finally finished. He left it a little time to go numb, hoping it would give Harrison time to mellow again under the sedation.

He drifted for a little while, until Steve started prodding again. "Ow. Steve?"

“Yeah?”

"Can we have a whiskey?"

“Maybe later, yeah?”

"Together."

“Yeah, maybe later.”

"Steve?"

Steve stifled a sigh. “Yes, Hars?”

"Thank you."

“You’re welcome.” He said, softening.

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theres-a-body-here · 2 months

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Monster dick problems

A sequel to this post

Feeling like a dumbass, you sit on top of your Minotaur boyfriend's lap on the living room couch, pressing your face into his firm pecs as hot tears roll down your cheeks. He hugs you close, running reassuring circles on your back with one massive hand as you sniveled.

"Shh… shh… I told you to be patient," he murmurs gently as he holds you close, still supporting your weight easily. His deep voice rumbles beneath your ear, vibrating through your entire body and making you shiver involuntarily.

It was true - you had been hasty and impatient again, trying to take him all at once during sex. You should have known better than to try and rush things, especially with a fat cock like his.

Feeling ashamed of yourself for being too eager, you bury your face deeper into his muscular chest, letting out a muffled noise as you nod quietly. A heavy sigh escapes his broad chest as he catches on to your embarrassment.

Deciding to switch topics, he cups your chin in his huge palm and tilts your head upwards, placing a gentle kiss to your tear-stained cheek. Leaning back slightly, he gazes down at you with concern etched across his features.

"Does it still hurt?" he whispers softly, his warm breath tickling your face as his free hand lowers to gently pat your bottom.

Unable to find your voice yet, you nod silently in response, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. Sensing your distress, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your waist. He plants a tender kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

His thumb brushes away at your tears as he leans back to look into your eyes, cupping your face in both hands.

"It's alright, baby boy," he croons softly as he watches you. "We'll give it another shot later tonight, once you've had time to prepare properly. Just relax for now."

You burrow further into his protective embrace, hiding your face in his hard chest once again. Sniffling, you listen to the steady rhythm of his beating heart beneath your ear, focusing on its calming tempo. His strong arms hold you close to him securely as he idly strokes your back lovingly with one massive hand.

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hurtcomfortguaranteed · 1 month

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In The Sentinel 2x12, Blair is unwittingly drugged with a powerful hallucinogen that sends him into a violent, disoriented frenzy. Jim manages to calm him down before the overdose kills him.

#the sentinel 1996 #whump #bromance whump #bromance #caregiver #worry #aftercare #overdose #drugged #disoriented #collapse #hugging #hospital care #bedside vigil #hurt/comfort #richard burgi #garett maggart

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where-is-my-whump · 2 months

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Hudson and Rex 6x08

#whump #hudson and rex #charlie hudson #6x08 #charlie hudson whump #john reardon #bleeding #stabbed #in pain #undercover #it's nice that we get to see charlie getting hurt more BUT were is the aftercare? we need more than sarah saying 12 STITCHES #the way he wanted to protect rex from the guy^^

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cpt-winters · 5 months

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Team Leaders Can't Ask For Help

A tremor ran through Leader's hand. Shuddering, he readjusting his grip on the tweezers, the metal cool against his clammy hands as he worked. The crimson liquid contrasted against his pale skin as the blood ran down the upper portion of his leg and pooled around the torn flesh, his black trouser leg frayed around it.

A shaky groan escaped him as he pulled the last piece of shrapnel clear of the wound, ripping an overlapping strip of flesh as he plucked the debris away. The tweezers fell to the tray with a soft clink as he reached for the needle.

"Leader?.."

He bit back a sigh, recognizing his teammate's voice as his hand smacked against the tray harder than intended, fumbling to retrieve the needle and spool of thread.

"What are you doing?"

"It's nothing." Leader's brows pulled together, his utmost focus on the minute loop in the needle as he willed his trembling fingers to push the thread through.

A warm hand pressed against his own, carefully lifting the from his weakened grasp.

"I can do it myself."

"Yeah?" Teammate raised a brow, their eyes briefly meeting. "Well you don't have to."

#whump #team leader whump #team dynamics #stoic whumpee #protective caretaker #whump snippet #tw blood #aftercare #team whump #hospital whump #leader whump #leader whumpee #turns out I'm alive #if this isn't coherent i'm not sober so yeah #physical whump #whump tropes #whump prompt #comfort whump

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rabbitdrabbles · 1 year

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ok but what about a whumper who wakes up their whumpee super gently. one who cuddles them in their blankets every morning and presses kisses into their hair, hushes their slurred protests with sweet nothings, rocks them slowly and rubs their shoulders as they patiently rouse them.

then, after the initial affection, and after whumpee is good and awake, they’ll drag them off for yet another day of torture.

#basically this is about my OCs #intimate whumper #creepy comfort?#aftercare??#more like before care lol #creepy whumper #whump ideas #whump prompt?#whump idea #whumperflies #creepy comfort #whump tropes #whump #whumblr #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #whump community #rabbit’s babbles

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azures-bazar · 1 year

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Oi there ! I love your RDR2 one shots (mostly the ones where Arthur's being soft af) !!

Could you make one of Arthur being sick and being taken care of by female!reader ??

Thanks in advance, love your work !

High Fever

Hello there anon, thank you for your request !

First of, I'm sorry it took me more than two weeks :') My job is taking most of my free-time as I kinda overwork (yep). Keeping the job I've got at the moment is a real battle, so writing takes much more time than I expected.

Anyway, I hope you'll still like this one-shot. I'm sorry for the mistakes, it's badly written due to the lack of free time I've got :')

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader

Word count : 3.8k

Short summary : Arthur came back to camp overwhelmingly sick, and you are not leaving him alone !

A/Note : Arthur’s tent has flaps and he’s sharing it with reader !

Tags : Arthur is sick, some fluff (as always), soft, taking care of someone ill, chapter 3, summer breeze, small whump aftercare (somehow), flu, vastly inspired by IRL

The sun was shining brightly, the morning weather was already quite warm. It was not a surprise, you had been warned about Lemoyne’s overall hot summer weather, but the climate was very different from the one you used to enjoy while the gang was hiding in the Heartlands. You still loved this weather, especially when you had some time to look at the scenery which was surrounding you. Beautiful tall trees, a lake which appeared to be endless, some islands ahead of you… something about Clemens Point felt magical, if not even a little safe. Who would have guessed the Van der Linde gang was hiding here ?

What made you feel even more safe was the tent you were sharing with Arthur, for a variety of reasons. You had been brought in the gang by Dutch after escaping the law following a minor bank robbery you had performed alone, somewhere back in 1893. Since the very first day you had spent with the rest of the gang, Arthur had displayed a lot of interest in being around you, from helping you to use a bow to spending time drawing by your side. Your rather friendly relationship slowly turned into a very awkward romance when Arthur gifted you with a large bouquet of wild flowers, dropping a kiss on your lips while watching the sunset from a hill.

"I… I think I really like you." this single sentence he had told you made you go on an incredible journey of two outlaws being in love

As of 1899, you and Arthur had been sharing his tent for about a year. You could easily remember him holding your hand while asking Dutch to move your cot to his quarters. Indeed, you had slept in Arthur’s tent on a variety of occasions : on rainy nights, when the weather was too cold, when someone of you was drunk, and, of course, when you wanted to have some fun. It had taken two days for Dutch to finally accept Arthur’s request, knowing that some of your nights would obviously not be as quiet as his… and god knows how right he was !

You rarely slept on your cot, mostly resting into Arthur’s embrace, getting up with the morning light and birds chirping around you. However, that day, instead of peacefully waking up with the light from the outside passing between your tent’s flaps, Arthur’s continuous sneezes and soft coughs had dragged you out of your well-deserved rest. Being on guard duty all day long doing mostly nothing was boring… and somewhat tiring. You had chosen to sleep on your cot that night as you went to rest earlier than the rest of the gang.

"Ugh…" you sighed, shifting from your cot

You stretched and made your way to Arthur’s bed, triggered by the sound of his sneezes. You could remember him coming back one day ago from a journey to Ambarino which had lasted for two days. Since Arthur came back, you could easily hear him cough quite often, at any time of the day. The sneezing had started to occur last night, much to your biggest dismay as you just wished to get some sleep.

"Arthur ?" you whispered

Arthur’s eyes cracked open as he noticed you were standing nearby. He greeted you with a sweet smile, which caused you to put your frustration aside, melting from the inside as you placed your hand on his forehead. Thankfully enough, Morgan was not feverish. At least… not yet.

"Did I wake you up ?" Arthur asked, a little confused

"You’re sick." you sighed

"No, I ain’t."

You shook your head, asking Arthur to stand up to prove he was in good shape. He even proceeded putting his clothes on for you not to worry about him, causing you to smirk a little. Whenever you were sick, Arthur was always the one taking care of you. And, right at this moment, as he was getting sick himself, he proudly hid his illness behind his usual smile and rough voice.

"See ? I’m fine." he said, leaving the tent

Arthur quickly headed out to chop some wood while you looked at him with a rather concerned expression. As far as you could recall, whenever Arthur was sick, there were at least two phases. The ‘No I’m fine’ phase, which was the one he usually displayed whenever he was starting to feel a little sick. He would still keep doing chores, going hunting and not even care about his health, overworking himself to please Dutch anytime he needed.

The second one was the ‘I’m dying’ phase, which, as its name suggested, was triggered whenever Arthur felt horribly sick. During this phase, Arthur usually behaved like a man on his deathbed, begging for the mercy of whatever was above, crying like a child until the symptoms would slowly fade away. Indeed, you did not want Arthur to get to this phase because not only it was a pitiful sight for such man, but also because you already had some hard time acting serious when he was behaving like a young boy.

For a few hours, you watched Arthur take care of some chores while minding your own business, up until Morgan stopped walking around and started coughing heavily. You watched him cough, nearly falling on his knees as you quickly carried a sack of grain to Pearson’s wagon. You quickly walked towards Arthur, who was slowly trying to breathe normally.

"You okay ?" you asked

"I’m fine." Arthur answered in a rather weak way

"No you ain’t."

You moved closer to Arthur, raising your hand to touch his forehead, causing him to chuckle. Of course, Morgan was a tough man who did not need anyone’s help, and seeing you wanting to take care of him made him feel very amused by the situation. Yes, he was sick… and there was no need to hide it from you.

"My god, your forehead is burning !" you gasped. "Get back to your tent !"

"Y/N, m’fine…-"

"To your tent, right now !"

Arthur noticed how persuasive you were, causing him to chuckle, raising his hands in the air as you pushed him towards his tent, quickly informing both Dutch and Hosea, who were having a talk nearby, that their boy was sick was would not do anything today. They both knew Arthur was doing most of the work around camp, he definitely deserved some rest ! Especially being this sick !

"Oh, I’ll go make a Ginseng tonic !" Hosea said, quickly heading to his tent

"Are you sure you can handle this grumpy giant cowboy alone, dear Y/N ?" Dutch asked you, glancing at Arthur who was sitting on his cot grumbling something while crossing his arms and legs

"Don’t worry, Dutch." you smiled. "I’ll take care of your son !"

Dutch chuckled, watching you get to your tent before closing its flaps. The single view of Arthur, nearly pouting on his cot, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet drawing circles on the ground made you smile. What a funny sight it was to witness such a brawny man and well known cowboy with a bounty on his head behaving like a grumpy child who was refusing to get some rest !

"Take ‘em boots off, Morgan." you said

"Y/N, I ain’t gonna stay in my tent all day long, the others need me."

"You’re staying here. The others can take care of some chores for a day, you’re staying in this tent."

"But I…-"

"I said you’re staying in this tent. Now take your boots and pants off."

Arthur grumbled and obliged, calmly removing his boots. He loved taking care of you, he absolutely enjoyed having you rest into his embrace, comfort you after some nightmares you had, watch over you whenever you were feeling sick… but was not used being taken care of. He was a grown man who did not even need anyone’s help. Having such a beautiful lady like you watching over him made him feel both awkward and incredibly good, even if he was to proud to say it. He proceeded removing his gun belt and satchel while staring at you with a defiant smile.

"Wanna see me naked, sweetheart ?" he smirked

"No, just take your pants off."

You helped Arthur removing his suspenders and pants, leaving him in his union suit. You carefully passing your hands on his shoulders, wiping away some dirt while pushing him on his cot. He did not even dare showing any signs of resistance, laying down his bed with a sigh as his head rested on a pillow which was once yours.

"M’fine, Y/N, I swear." he sighed

"You ain’t a good liar with me. I’ll go get some blankets."

"This is humiliatin’…"

Arthur’s words made you shiver, causing you to sit beside him. How could he believe being sick was humiliating when probably every single human being could catch a cold ? You placed your hand on his burning head, letting out a soft sigh before looking into his green orbs.

"It ain’t. You’re sick, and it happens. You’re spending so much time trying to do chores, doing hunting, doing bounties, robbing places… just for us to survive. Now, allow yourself to rest for a bit. You deserve it."

"But the others…-"

"The others will be just fine. Close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you."

Despite not agreeing with you, Arthur closed his eyes as you gently covered him with one of his blankets. You looked at his grumpy face with a little smirk, listening to him grumbling a few words in his three-days beard before leaving the tent to do some chores around camp. What a literal child Arthur was to act like this ! You often wondered how Hosea, Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw had managed to take care of him back when he was a young boy, especially knowing that Arthur’s behaviour once used to be similar to Sean’s.

You came back to check on Arthur after taking care of some chores, being given Hosea’s tonic. His eyes cracked open as soon as you walked back inside the tent. He rose on his elbows, getting you with one of his absolutely amazing smiles. You would have killed for this smile, definitely. They were so genuine and worth it… and Arthur was the most handsome man you knew !

"Did you get some sleep ?" you smiled

"No." Arthur shook his head. "I ain’t gonna sleep in the middle of the day like that. I ain’t lil' Jack to take naps. "

"Arthur… You take care of me when I’m sick, lemme do the same for you. I brought you Hosea’s tonic."

You walked closer to Arthur’s cot and sat next to him, pouring a very strange coloured liquid into his tint cup. Hosea had told you about its ingredients, but you did not expect such a yellowish tone… and awful smell. At first sight, it really looked like some snake oil, and the terrible scent coming from it did not help at all.

"I ain’t drinkin’ that." Arthur chuckled. "It smells like cat piss."

"Arthur, please." you smiled back

"Ugh… fine."

Arthur swallowed the tonic in one go, coughing as he quite disliked its taste, nearly throwing up as he felt this strange liquid go down his throat. He knew that taste and that smell, it wasn’t the first time Hosea was making him a tonic. He had spent a vast majority of his teenage years drinking a variety of them, getting sick quite often. He could remember most of them, but the Ginseng tonic was probably the one he had drank the most throughout his time in the gang.

"My god, it tastes terrible !" Arthur gagged

"Yep, but Hosea says it’s the best for you !"

According to Hosea, this tonic would put Arthur back on his feet in no time. You trusted Matthews’ expertise, having watched him carefully mix the Ginseng’s petals with some water and some gold berries you had brought him a day earlier. Just like Arthur, you also had the opportunity to drink some of these tonics throughout your life with the gang… enough for you to feel a vast amount of compassion as you watched Arthur struggle with his drink.

"Now get some rest, Arthur." you smiled. "I’ll be back in a few hours, I just need to help Pearson cook the stew and finishing sewing my dress."

Arthur did not respond, only watching you going out of the tent, sighing as he closed his eyes once more. He could not escape ! Arthur started dozing off after a few seconds, listening to Dutch and Molly arguing nearby his tent, to Sean’s terrible jokes by the crate of whiskey, and to an attempt of Bill to bond with Kieran over a bottle of beer. Something made him feel relaxed, the way you took care of him made him feel relaxed. He secretly adored it, despite not mentioning it.

You came back a few hours later, as promised, having sent Dutch, Hosea and Tilly to look for Arthur every thirty minutes or so to make sure he was still fine. As you came back inside the tent, you found Arthur groaning, sweating so heavily that your heart nearly stopped at the sight of this poor man in such pain.

"Oh my god, Arthur… how do you feel ? What hurts ?"

You helped Arthur up, softly taking off his sweat-soaked union suit. You wanted to make it quick, and Arthur’s wobbly arms did not help at all. He groaned a little when you tried taking his arms out of his shirt, feeling an intense pain coming from the back of his head. You managed to take out some old cloth and plunged it into a bucket of cold water to wipe away some of Arthur’s sweat.

"Head hurts…" he groaned

"I know, sweetheart. I’ll just clean you up a little and you’ll lie down."

"Sweetheart". You called him sweetheart, a word you never used to qualify him… Arthur was quick to give you some nicknames, from variations of your own name to pet names you adored. Your heart stopped beating for a second as you awaited Arthur’s response, being greeted with his sweet smile and painful sight, slowly passing the cloth on his shoulders.

"Lemme do this m’self, dove…"

"Arthur, it’s not…-"

Arthur tried getting the wet cloth from your hands but ended up loosing balance. You quickly caught him before he would hit the ground, sighing as he whined, burying his head in the crook of your neck while his arms remained wobbly. How humiliating it was for him to be at your whole mercy ! Such a tough outlaw, skilled gunslinger… barely able to move his arms without whining like a sick child ! He was not fully himself, but somewhat happy to be taken care of.

"M’sorry…" he whispered. "I hate being like that…"

"It’s okay. Stay still for me, alright ?"

"Sure…"

You were worried about Arthur’s health, but somewhat amused by what you were seeing at the moment. What a child… you knew that all men from the gang, no matter how tough they were, often behaved as if they were on their deathbeds whenever they were sick. A simple headache had led Bill to pretend he was dying, Dutch had once remained in his bed for three days because of a nasal congestion. You knew that Arthur was just a little sick at this moment, believing he was about to die too.

"There you go." you said, passing the wet cloth over Arthur’s torso. "Let’s put on a new union suit."

"I’m dying…"

"No, you ain’t."

Arthur used the last bits of energy he had to shrug. You quickly lifted his heavy legs up to get the bottom of his union suit off, not even bothering about him being naked. You had seen him undressed quite often, this wasn’t much of a discovery ! You wanted him dressed into something, that poor man was sick ! You carefully slipped a red union suit on him, buttoning it while Arthur looked at you. His eyes were half-closed, a soft smile was blooming on his face. You could easily tell he was not fully himself, just by the look he was giving you.

"Are you hungry ?" you asked him, taking his face between your hands

"I’d eat you raw, honeybee…" Arthur responded, his eyes twitching. "Maybe with some cranberry sauce, along with potatoes…"

"Well… seems like you ain’t. Lay down."

Arthur’s words made you blush, but his health was far too much important at the moment. He laid down, moaning as soon as his head touched his pillow. As you were on your way out of his tent to get him some stew, Arthur whined, causing you to shiver and turn back. He was looking at you, giving you a sick puppy glance, summoning enough energy to spread his arms wide for you to embrace him.

"Don’ go…" he whimpered

"Oh, Arthur…"

You slowly walked back to his cot, your heart was fluttering as you could not even resist these puppy eyes. Arthur, even being so sick and probably a little needy, was still the charming man you adored. The most handsome man you had ever met, the sweetest gentleman gifting you with flowers, gems, antique alcohol bottles… who would have thought such an angelic-looking man was an outlaw and had blood on his hands ?

"Feeling needy, huh ?" you smiled, passing your hand through his sweaty hair

"I’m gonna die…" Arthur whined. "Don’ leave me… I’m so sick…"

"I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I’ll come back with another tonic, wait for me."

Arthur whined as he nuzzled his head into his pillow, allowing you to grab one of his blankets and cover him up to the shoulders. You passed your hand through his dirty blonde hair, causing him to smile a little before watching you leaving the tent. You nearly felt bad for leaving him ! You grabbed a bowl of stew and quickly ate it as Hosea gave you another of his tonics.

"He must drink it before midnight, it will help him rest." Matthews told you as he gave you the bottle

"Alright. I’ll make sure of it."

Hosea smiled and patted your shoulder before heading towards his bed made of a variety of different blankets, kissing the picture he had of his wife, laying down while keeping his eyes open for a moment. He watched you walk towards your tent, absolutely delighted to know his boy was having you around him. What a treasure you were for the gang, indeed ! So sweet, adorable and caring ! You headed back to your tent with Hosea’s tonic and were met with a rather pleasant sight.

"Oh." you smiled

Arthur was asleep laying on his left side, facing the sunset. You slowly walked in to get a better glimpse of him, not even wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, so sweet ! Who would have thought this good-looking man, having beautiful green orbs hidden under his eyelids and long eyelashes which could trigger anyone’s jealousy, had blood on his hands ? At first sight, nobody could have guessed Arthur was an outlaw rather than being just a really handsome man. What a shame that the only one not accepting his beauty was himself…

While you were away from your tent, Arthur had battled to keep himself awake. He had pushed his pillow on the ground, not finding it comfortable enough, dragging the blanket over his body, then kicking it away, then dragging it back again. He was sleeping so peacefully that you did not even want to move the blanket a little over him. You smiled as you calmly sat by him, checking his temperature by kissing his forehead.

"The fever’s gone…" you whispered

"Y/N ?…" Arthur mumbled

"No, no, sweetheart… go back to sleep…"

The soft sound of Arthur’s whine could be heard as his eyes cracked open. You expected to be met with a rather grumpy sight for interrupting his sleep but, as soon as his vision got clear enough to see what was around, Morgan smiled to you. Your sole presence had triggered a sudden happiness as he calmly took your hand and held it close to his chest. He liked it, he liked the way you took care of him. It felt good to have such an angel like you around, stitching up his wounds, giving him medicine, watching over him as he slept… he felt safe.

You were melting, you felt butterflies fly in your belly as you kept analysing Arthur’s beautiful features and lovely smile. His usually green eyes had turned blue to the tears of pain he might have shed earlier, and due to this flu he had caught. What a handsome man he was ! Even with his high fever, dark rings under his eyes, sweaty hair… you could have given anything to prove him how handsome he was. Anything. Taking care of him while he was sick was giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy his presence a little more, to admire this talented gunslinger and very skilled artist, whose large hands always came up with amazing and refined drawings.

"Was dreamin’ of you…" he whispered

"Oh ?" you smiled, gently caressing his hair. "What was I doing ?"

"You’re wearin’ a white dress and a flower crown… and you’re singin’… that you loved me and all…"

"Oh, did you like it ?"

"Of course, ‘cause I love you…"

This vast amount of butterflies could not stop flying in your belly, just this single sentence made your heart flutter. Arthur never truly voiced all his love for you, but being so tired and ill… his ‘introvert-filter’ was quick to disappear, as well as his overall grumpy behaviour. Arthur slowly rolled aside, patting his cot for you to lay down next to him. And, with such an adorable puppy glance, how could you refuse ?

"Wait up, Arthur." you smiled. "Lemme just get my clothes off."

It took you just a few seconds to take your shirt and skirt off, quickly laying next to Arthur who nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist while letting out a long and very relaxed moan. You chuckled as you felt his beard tickle you clavicles, his heavy breath getting slower and slower as he slowly dozed off in your embrace.

"I love you too, silly man." you smiled, kissing his forehead

Arthur moaned in return, making you smile as his grip on your waist tightened, passing your hands in his hair, caressing his skin, dropping a few subtle kisses on his forehead. What a man you had here, what a peculiar feller ! A literal bear whenever he was doing fine, but a young child whenever he was sick. You did not mind, you loved him for what he was, you loved him entirely. And you would nurse him back to health, whatever the price was. You did not care about getting sick yourself, Arthur’s recovery mattered the most at the moment.

Nothing else mattered.

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