Shingeki No Oneshots

MikexReader ~Sniffles~

Sick!MikexReader

||Sniffles||

Modern AU

(A/N): lol just kidding I can't do the thing I promised b4 sorry hope u enjoy

But seriously, it's been awhile :'). This was actually put on a purposeful hold, so I was having no problems with writing this. I just wanted to work on other things. And yes, I did, so please go check those out. But, we are back to these, I hope I didn't lose any of you throughout. Thank you!

~~

Erwin continuously begins to glance at his partner. He keeps upholding snot, and it's quite gross. He also keeps complaining about needing coffee or tea or some hot beverage constantly. He's used all of the tissues in the main office, and is beginning to use Petra's, his assistant. He won't let Erwin open the windows due to sudden chills running along his spine. He's even resulted in covering himself with not only his own jacket, but Erwin's as well.

Erwin comes to the conclusion that his business partner and best friend has come down with a cold, sadly. He thinks to himself, coming up with ways to try and convince him to go home and let his wife, {Name}, take care of him. It shouldn't be that hard, given he's not as stubborn and hard-headed as Erwin.

"Mike," Erwin's thick voice cuts through the silence— well, not really— the silence besides Mike's snot upholds.
"Hm?" He glances up at his friend before looking back down at his phone.
"Who are you messaging?"
"I'm not messaging anyone, I'm trying to give myself a self-diagnosis."
Erwin gives him a puzzled look. "Are you on WebMD again?"
"I think I have tonsillitis," Mike simply retorts.

Erwin snorts. "Just, go home, or to the doctor, Mike. You're sick. It's ridiculous; when you talk you sound like your voice box has been removed, and God your snot-noises are bloody gross."

He shakes his head. "I only have like– two more sick days."
"So," Erwin rolls his eyes. "We're the bosses. It shouldn't matter." He gestures his hands to the big pile of paperwork atop Mike's desk. "It's not like you've done anything either!"
Mike sneers, "All you do is read the newspaper—" he has to cut his sly remark short due to his dry coughs.

Erwin backs up, a little bit dramatically. "Jesus, please leave! I don't need myself getting sick! Levi would kill me if I came home with a cold!"
"Shutup," Mike says, wiping his mucus with his sleeve. "You're even ruining your suit jacket!" Erwin exclaims. Mike arises from his chair and dramatically steps toward Erwin. He jumps back, earning a chuckle– and a cough– from the taller man.

"Germaphobe," he smirks.

He grabs his keys, "Have Reiner or Petra clock me out." Before Erwin can make some comment on him 'not being a germaphobe', he takes his leave.

••

You nearly drop your plates on seeing your husband's early arrival. "Sweetheart!" You exclaim, hugging him happily. He wraps his large arms around you, shoving his large nose into your {H/c} hair. He takes a big whiff, smelling the usual; a bit of his cologne, your lavender shampoo, laundry, beef stew, and the apartment.

"Why are you home so early?" You ask, pulling back a bit from his hold.

Just as he's about to inform you about the situation, he pulls back completely to cough away from your face. After he's finished, he shoves a few more snot wads up his nose.
As soon as his little episode ends, you immediately go back into the kitchen to start the stove.

"What are you doing?" Mike asks. "Go lay in bed or sit on the couch. Would you like chicken noodle or tomato?"
"If I were to order tomato do I get grilled cheese along with it?" You laugh. "Yes, of course."
He nods, "I'll request tomato then."
You usher him out of the kitchen as you fetch another pan for the sandwich. He goes to change out of his business attire into something much more comfortable.

After everything's all finished, you bring him his for-now-dinner.

"Thank you dear," he carefully takes the bowl from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a split second.

You've been married to this man for 3 years now, and you still gain shivers up your spine from having contact with him.

After he's taken a few spoonfuls into his mouth, he throws his head back and presses his lips together, making a content sound. "Does it feel good on your throat?" You set your hand atop his free one. He nods, "Yes, very much." He pauses his eating to give you a brief kiss on the forehead. You giggle. "You never gave me my 'welcome-home' kiss," you remind him.

He laughs, but not without pausing in between to cough. "I don't want to get you sick, my love," he explains. You roll your eyes. "So— Nothing's wrong with having a small case of the sniffles!"

Mike pauses and glances up at you. "What?"
You raise a brow.
"What?"
"Say what you said again."
"The sniffles!"
He chuckles, the deepness in his Adam's apple residing. "What's that?"
"When you're sick! You have the sniffles," he laughs once more.

"What?" You look at him, genuinely confused.

"Gosh, {Name}." Never in his years of your relationship and marriage, which has been 5+ years, has he heard you refer to the flu or a cold as that. It was cute, how you said it, he had to admit. But who calls it that?

His wife, {Name}, apparently.

"Are you making fun of me?" Your frantic voice floats into his thoughts. He shrugs, giving a very defined smirk. "No."
You huff. "Yes, you are!"
He takes a finger to wipe the tears from his eyes. "No, honey, it's just—" he breaks out into a laugh and coughing fit again. "I don't see what's so funny!" You exclaim. "Is something on my face?"
"How are you oblivious to it?" He giggles deeply. "Who calls a sickness 'the sniffles'?"
You raise your eyebrows, then bring them down in a scowl. "I do! What's so wrong with that?"

He shakes his head, trying his hardest to contain his unwanted laughter. "It's just— look, darling, it's fine. It was just a bit odd, is all."

You pout. "Whatever."

"Here," he sets his bowl and plate of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich on the nightstand next to him. He then lifts you into his arms, onto his lap. He sets his lips on yours, his chapped ones trying his hardest to match up with your soft ones. You want to pull away and tell him to put Chapstick on first, but decide not to, ruling that this is a very nice kiss.

When he pulls away, he gives one of his rare, genuine and cute smiles. "There. Now we can both have a case of 'the sniffles'."