#I know it's been hard for me to manage migraines and such (though it's getting easier or I'm just in a good proud period)

[stardustedknuckles]

It's been so long since I've had to exist within a group of people consistently over many days and damn, I nearly forgot I was autistic. I found out yesterday that though I get along with almost everyone at work, most of my coworkers thought I was a huge bitch who hated everyone for a little bit (and one still does, which is how this whole thing came up at all). I was bewildered like. No I'm very often dizzy or in a bit of pain and I'm very focused on taking care of the dogs but I'm not - I don't dislike any of you? I've never been mad at you, you guys thought I was mad?? Just an alarming disconnect between the way I see myself and the way I come off to others. I have never once gotten the hang of behaving like a regular person, but it appears that time has taken me from "generally silly person with an offbeat sense of humor who doesn't take things seriously" to "stoic hardass who doesn't like you and thinks you're stupid also." I did not authorize this change. It's throwing me for a loop. I feel like I'm 6 again being told to stop talking over people's heads because I just learned a new big word and I wanted to use and share it. I like assholes with a heart of gold in media. I don't want to be one??

[karasuno-planet]

Taking care of you

Kageyama x manager!reader who gets migraines !

warnings: migraine pain, vision loss

wc: 0.8k

summary: self-assured reader gets a horrible migraine and needs help, despite never asking for it. (pre-established relationship w/ kageyama) (fem!reader)

a/n: I LOVE THE HAIKYUU FANDOM SMMMM <333 you guys are my favs. requests open !! and the tsukki academic rivals fic is in the works for anyone wondering...

(gif not mine !)

One thing you had quickly learned while dating Kageyama is that he's not one for public displays of affection. You certainly weren't secret, hell pretty much everyone knew and was talking about you two, but you kept it private. Especially in front of his opponents. That's why it came as such a shock when you felt his arms aroudn you suddenly in the middle of a practice match.

To say you had a migraine that day was an understatement. Three days into the trining camp, in excruciating heat working late to help the team reform their entire strategies form the bottom up— you were exhausted.

But you were used to the migraines. It was something you could handle. The team is already under so much stress, especially Tobio. His sets hadn't been satisfactory, and he was re-learning everything he already knew from scratch. You couldn't imagine the pressure you knew he already felt, so keeping the pressure of your aching head a secret was nothing in comparison.

That doesn't mean nobody noticed, though. Walking into the first practice set of the day, Coach Ukai made a comment.

"Y/n, are you feeling okay?"

"Yes! Feeling good..."

"Okay, just let me know if you need to take a breather or something."

Had you already been exposed? The last thing you wanted was to be a burden on the team, but the floaters in your vision were a bit hard to ignore. And when the ringing in your ears set in, it got worse. Much worse.

By the third set of the day, you weren't faring well. You stood on the sidelines, taking notes on gameplay, when your vision started to black out completely. You widened your eyes to realize you couldn't see a thing. Your head pounding, you focused all your energy on just staying on your feet.

A deep voice yelled out, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

You recognized it as Daichi's voice, "Don't worry Daichi, I'm just fine..."

You heard Asahi chime in, "uh.. That was Kuroo talking...on the other side of the court..."

Before you knew it, Kageyama rushed off the court, running towards you and supporting you with his hand on your back, "Damn y/n, you can't see a thing, can you?" You recognized his touch and sent in front of you immediately.

"I'm okay, really."

"Sure.." he dismissed you. "I've got you okay? Must be scary, not being able to see..." he mumbled. "Can you walk if I support you? Here.." He started slowly helping you walk towards the exit of the gym.

"KAGEYAMA!" Hinata shouted, "What's going on??"

He sighed, looking back at the court, "She gets bad migraines, but she'll be okay, don't worry."

There was a collective sigh and chatter resumed across the volleyball court now that everyone understood the issue. Some players were wishing you well, but you could hear next to nothing with the ringing in your ears.

"I'm walking her to her room," Kageyama declared to Coach Ukai before continuing to support you to walk.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. SUGAWARA, get in there."

Suga jolted into action, stepping onto the court to fill Kageyama's place.

And that's the last moment you could clearly make out before you woke up.

You were laying on your back, a cold towel draped across your forehead and a blanket over your body. Tobio sat on the floor next to your bed, and turned around to face you quickly when you heard you moving.

"Y/n," he whispered. "Here, have some water." He handed you a bottle of ice water and you took a couple sips.

"Thank you..."

"No problem, but, why didn't you tell me something was wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to distract you."

"That's ridiculous, your migraines are serious and I deserve to know."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

You felt his hand slowly wrap around yours, "No, I...I've been so stressed out and mad at myself I didn't even realize what that might do to you. So absorbed in my own world..."

"My migraine is not your fault Tobio."

"Drink some more," he pushed the water towards you, noticeably keepin ghis voice low and soft to not irritate your head.

You took another sip and sighed, "I'm serious. You have nothing to do with it."

"Regardless, I have everything to do with it now. I'm not leaving your side until you're back to one hundred percent, okay?"

"You don't need to do that."

"But I'm going to," he assured you, squeezing your hand tightly in his, "besides, I'm lucky to be your nurse when you've got quite a few people eager to see you..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I don't think those guys have ever whispered in their lives," he chuckled softly, "I told them to piss off until I say you're ready."

"You're the best, Tobio."

"I know."

Before you could even open your mouth to thank him, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and set you back in your thoughts.

"I don't mind taking care of you, you know."

[masterlist]

[voxslays]

Under the Weather…

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which, you are having trouble at work, trying to manage your massive migraine and a report, until Vox notices.

You were Vox’s head assistant. Your job was managing his schedule, watching his other assistants, writing weekly reports, and monitoring his social media accounts. It doesn’t sound that hard. Lately, you had been feeling a little under the weather though, and had been finding it harder and harder to focus on scheduling and Voxtok feeds as you felt the sharp stabbing pains of a migraine. You had tried to be discreet for the past two weeks, but something in your boss's gaze tells you your plan has failed. 

​​Vox walks towards you, a smug look on his face as he notices your pale complexion and the way you're rubbing your temples. “Ah, ah, ah, look at you, my dear. You don't look so well. Maybe you should sit down before you pass out.” Vox says, his signature smile prominent on his flatscreen face. “I’m alright sir, truly. I just need to finish this report-” Vox interrupts you, shaking his head slowly. “Let’s get to the point, shall we? Why did you come into work today?” He asks, his smile fading a little as he walks closer to you “And please, don’t call me sir, you know better than that.”

​​“Sorry, Vox.” You correct yourself. “I came here because I need to work? I need to do my job.” You say, as a half-question, half-statement. Vox chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, you need to work? Well, well, well. It seems my darling is getting a bit forgetful.” He leans in close, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. His smile returns, but it doesn't reach his eyes as he looks at you intensely. "You know, I've been watching you.” He says your name softly, his entire demeanor becoming gentler. “Noticing how distracted you've been lately with those migraines." He reaches out and gently caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry.” Vox's hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You're always apologizing, aren't you? Always putting others before yourself.” He sighs, his expression softening further. “It’s going to get you killed down here.” Vox's other hand reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I know you're not well, and I know you've been neglecting yourself because you think you need to keep up this facade." He leans in closer, you can feel the warmth of his fans as he breathes a mellowness against your face. He pauses, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for an answer. When none comes, he continues. "So, I'm giving you the rest of the week off. No arguments." Vox releases your chin and steps back, his expression unreadable.

“What!? But sir-” Vox cuts you off, his voice firm. "Not a word. You're going home, and you're going to rest. That's an order." He turns and walks back to the door, opening it and gesturing for you to leave. "Now." You lower your head, looking at the ground. “Yes Vox.” You quietly mutter. You begrudgingly exit his office and walk into the main lobby of the floor, pressing the elevator’s button. As you wait for the elevator, Vox calls out to you. "If I find out you came back to work early, I swear..." He trails off, leaving the threat hanging in the air. "Just rest, okay?" He says gently. 

“I will.” You say as you step into the elevator with a group of other employees and disappear from sight. As the elevator doors close, Vox lets out a sigh of relief, the facade of the cold, unfeeling overlord Vox dropping away. "Please be alright.” He says, as he watches you slowly walk to your car in the parking lot. His breath deepens as he watches you get in and drive away, hoping you’ll be better soon.

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

[crayonboxcolors607]

in honor of Part 1 getting 100 likes and like 15 reblogs! (a lot for tiny stupid me lol) i decided to suck it up and write another part bc ppl have asked for it

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART ONE, PLEASE DO SO!

After Robin found out, things were a bit better for Steve. The two of them practiced their signs during slow shifts at the Family Video. Robin showed him a new sign every day and helped him improve his lip reading. It benefited his daily life too. Gone were the days when he had to walk all the way across the store to talk to Robin, now the two of them could have conversations from opposite sides of the store, their hands flying fast as they spoke.

Robin was a fucking godsend, bullying Keith into giving Steve more time off in case of migraines and providing excuses when he couldn't drive the kids around. She begged Steve to wear his hearing aids, eventually telling him that if he played his cards right he could cover them up with his hair, which ultimately convinced him. She'd helped him find a new hairstyle that almost eliminated them completely, clapping her hands excitedly as the shock on his face was evident when he turned them on and could differentiate sounds again.

Of course, there were still things that were hard, even with the hearing aids. Steve needed to be directly facing someone in order to have a basic understanding of what they were saying, and there couldn't be anything obstructing their mouth. This proved especially difficult when Steve interacted with the younger Party members, although they continued to chalk it up to Steve's usual airheadedness. For once, he was grateful to be stereotyped as a dumb jock.

One random day in October, however, things began to change.

Dustin had somehow roped Steve into driving him, Mike, and Lucas to some fancy-ass comic store in Indianapolis, claiming that "the one in Hawkins is not nearly comprehensive enough, Steve". He'd rolled his eyes and responded with what they referred to as his "Mom Pose", his hands on his hips and his eyebrow cocked as he stared at them judgementally. Eventually, though, he'd relented, letting them fight over who got shotgun and who had to sit in the back.

Somehow, although he himself didn't quite seem to know how, Lucas managed to snag the front seat. He'd slid in quietly as Dustin and Mike threw themselves into the backseat, yelling obnoxiously about unfairness and favoritism. Steve refrained from pointing out that he'd had no part in the tussle for shotgun, instead allowing it to play out.

He and Lucas had been engaging in conversation about sports when Lucas had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of trying out for the school's basketball team, tentatively asking Steve if they could meet up the next weekend so he could give him some pointers. Steve had agreed without even thinking, but he began to panic once he got home later that afternoon. How was he supposed to go over skills in basketball when he couldn't even hear out of his left ear?

But in typical Steve fashion, he procrastinated until the last minute, eventually deciding that he simply wouldn't wear the hearing aids. He'd be fine for one basketball practice, right?

And so, Steve drove to the basketball courts that Saturday, removing his hearing aids as he arrived, and thus reintroducing a fuzzy ringing in his ears that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It felt alien, but he shook his head around a bit and started to shoot baskets. He'd forgotten how good sports made him feel, and was pleasantly surprised at the adrenaline that began pumping through his veins. In fact, his new lack of hearing made it easier for him to practice, as it allowed him to tune out the rest of the world and focus solely on himself and his own fluid motions.

This did prove to be a slight problem, however, as he didn't hear Lucas dropping his stuff on the bench, nor did he notice him walking up to Steve. So the tapping on his shoulder startled him far more than it should have.

"Jesus Sinclair!" Steve exclaimed. "You scared the shit outta me, man!" Lucas seemed confused at Steve's reaction, and he silently reminded himself that none of the kids knew about his hearing.

"Uhh, sorry Steve," Lucas said slowly. "Are um, are you okay?" The concern on his face melted Steve's heart just a little bit.

"I'm fine buddy," he reassured the young teen. "Was just in my own world a bit, you know, focusing and stuff." His explanation seemed to comfort Lucas enough, and he grinned.

"You ready to get started?" he asked, tossing the younger boy the ball. Lucas caught it with a practiced ease and began dribbling, feinting left and right. Steve dropped down into his defensive position, mirroring Lucas's every movement, tracking his feet to predict which direction he would go next.

He felt himself slipping back into that headspace that he loved so much, the one that drew him into sports in the first place. Because he didn’t need to think about it, the strategies were always in his brain. He just needed to rely on muscle memory, all his former skills coming back to him as he and Lucas scrimmaged.

They played for about thirty minutes before taking a quick break to grab water and snacks, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Lucas opened his Gatorade™ and said something Steve, causing him to look over in surprise as he struggled to figure out what the younger boy was saying.

"Pardon?" he said, pretending he just hadn't been paying attention. Lucas repeated himself, or at least Steve had to assume that he did, because again, he couldn't understand a single word that left the younger boy's mouth.

There was a heavy feeling in his stomach as he debated asking Lucas to repeat himself a third time.

Someone tapped his leg, pulling him out of his own spiraling headspace. Steve looked up, feeling even worse as he registered the fear on Lucas' face.

"Steve," Lucas began slowly, seeming struggling with what to say next. "Can you, uh, can you not hear me?"

Of course, that sentence Steve was able to comprehend.

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.

"Not really," he replied, looking anywhere but at Lucas. "My hearing started to go after Billy smashed my head with a plate. And it got worse after Starcourt." He looked up then, a grim smile on his face. "Turns out multiple concussions aren't exactly good for a person."

Lucas' eyes widened at the confession. "So, are you deaf?" he asked. Or at least, Steve assumed that's what he said.

"Partially," Steve replied. "I can't hear at all out of my left ear, that's where I got the most damage. My right ear can function, but not normally. I mostly rely on reading lips and context clues."

"Oh my god," Lucas said slowly, the gears visibly turning in his head. "Oh my god! W-we kept teasing you! We kept calling you stupid a-and laughing at you! You couldn't even hear us! And you-" The boy suddenly slumped over and placed his head in his hands. He said something, Steve was sure of it, but it was additionally muffled by him covering his face.

"Uh, Lucas, buddy," Steve said hesitantly. "I can't understand you if I can't see your face." Lucas looked up at him then, tears pooling in his eyes.

"It's my fault," he said. Steve felt his mouth drop open in shock, and began to protest, but Lucas stopped him.

"Billy was coming after me," he insisted, talking clearer so Steve could understand. "He was attacking me! You stepped in and tried to defend me -- now you're deaf and it's all my fault!"

Steve felt his heart drop.

He'd been so scared to tell anyone because he was worried they wouldn't view him the same way as before, that he hadn't even considered how the kids might feel if they knew he was like this because of his attempts to protect them.

"Oh Lucas," Steve said softly, gathering the crying teen into his arms. "It's not your fault. There isn't a world where I wouldn't have done the same. You're my kid. I'm always gonna protect you. That's just how it works." He felt Lucas try to push away, to protest, but he just held him tighter. "You and your little gaggle of idiots are worth everything. I'd go deaf a thousand times if it meant keeping you all safe."

With a sniffle, Lucas detached himself from the older boy.

"Really?" he said, eyes shiny with tears.

"Of course," Steve responded, without missing a beat. He gave the younger boy a final squeeze, before wiping away the few tears that had escaped while he and Lucas were talking. "I'd better get you home anyway. Your mom will have my head on a stick if you miss dinner." He kept his hand on Lucas' back as he wiped his tears and sniffed a final time.

"Okay," he said. "But you're staying for dinner."

HOLY SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED! ONLY TOOK ME 9 MONTHS LOL

okay okay so i did talk about the older members of the party finding out next as well as dustin but i just had to make a liar out of myself bc when i started writing this my brain was just like "but what if we did a wholesome reveal with Lucas instead??" and now here we are and i regret nothing

except the lack of sleep. i regret that a lot.

also, i am not an athlete. i am a depressed and introverted high school theater kid who has never played basketball in my entire life bc i am a measly 5ft 1in (roughly 155cm). so dont come at me if the sportsball lingo is incorrect bc i have no fucking clue what im doing.

also THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND ALL THE LIKES AND REBLOGS ON MY LAST POST!!

[greywritesthings]

Magpie muffins

Spencer Reid x Autistic!Reader

TW; Mentions of EDs, gagging, struggling to eat / trying foods, mentions of ARFID. These are pretty much covered in the first four paragraphs, after that they aren't mentioned.

A/N; You dont have to have read part 1 & 2 to understand this part but go check them out if you like this one!

Part 1 Part 2

SR Masterlist

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

“Honey you really do need to eat more of a varied diet, you're going to end up deficient in vitamins and that can cause a variety of things or make things such as migraines worse.” Spencer reminds you from across the kitchen. You knew he was right, you were vegetarian and picky, leaving you to eat the same five meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday. “I know spence, i'm trying i promise.” you respond as you flop back against the sofa. “In that case will you try this?” he asks you, making his way to the sofa with two hot bowls in hand. You knew it was pasta with some form of vegetable sauce, he blended them together with your safe foods and spices to try and cover them but nearly every time you could still taste them and no matter how hard you tried it would end in a shut down or a meltdown if you kept forcing yourself to eat it. He was gentle about getting you to try things, you were a lot less so. “You just have vegan chicken and cheese on your pasta but I have garlic mushroom and pesto, if you don't like it you can just eat yours okay?” He placed the bowls down on the coffee table, striding back across to the kitchen to grab cutlery and water for you both. 

Trying new foods wasn't as bad as it was when you were younger, you had managed to recover from ARFID by the time you hit sixteen by clinical standards but it never quite went away, you still struggled with new foods of nearly any kind but you ate enough now so you were able to function, but you still had to take supplements to keep your levels in check. 

“Want to try?” he asks, knowing that you despised pesto the least but you hadn't tried mushrooms before so it could go either way. You nod, looking apprehensively at the bowl on his lap. He grabbed some on his fork, making sure to only grab a few mushrooms so you weren't overwhelmed by something new. 

You try and swallow the food down but the combination of the new taste and texture of mushroom and the overwhelming garlic and pesto flavours your brain just refuses, causing you to gag. You tried to slow down but you just ended up gagging again before rushing over to the bin to spit it out. You proceed to down a glass of water Spencer had set by the sink, predicting this would be the likely scenario. “You want to come eat the rest of your food magpie?” Spencer calls over to you, double checking. Knowing sometimes you didn't want to eat straight after trying new things that you didn't like. You agree to come back to the sofa and eat your own food. 

It was the next day Spencer got you to try something new, you had gone in earlier than him to get started on a project with Garcia so Spencer was about an hour behind you. When you knew Spencer was going to be arriving you slipped out of Garcia's office to greet him.

“Morning Honey” you greet him with a hug. “I got you a new thing to try magpie, whenever you want.” he responds with a giddy smile on his face, giving away what it was almost immediately. “It's a magpie muffin isn't it?” you ask. Spencer had gotten a muffin from a specific bakery nearly every day when he lived in chicago called magpie and when he found out you had never had a muffin before he was determined to get you one from that specific bakery, but they had closed for renovations for the last eight months so he hadn't been able to get you one till now. “You want me to try it now really though don't you?” you ask as he gives you the puppy dog eyes. You head over to the coffee station to make your usual hot chocolate with honeycomb syrup making a mental note of the fact you were running low on the powder. 

Once you headed back to your desk where Spencer was waiting he had laid out the muffin on top of the paper bag so your desk didn't get covered in crumbs. You pick up the muffin and lean your hip against the desk as Spencer watches you take a bite from the muffin. You're not normally a fan of cakes in general, hence why you hadn't had a muffin before. Surprisingly to both you and Spencer you liked it straight away, it was dark chocolate and white chocolate, you personally didn't like milk chocolate so the lack of it was great for you. You broke off a piece to give to Spencer but he refused and pulled his own out of his bag. “There's a box at home, my mom sent them when they reopened, they sent a few boxes to the facility so she knew about it before us.” he smiled. “Well what do you think about planning another visit to visit her? And getting more muffins because I adore them. I need the recipe.” You suggested to him, you had met his mother twice now, once while on a case and the second time was a planned visit, making it much easier for you mentally. “I'd like that, I think she would too.” So with an idea in place to start planning when to take time off together, you headed back up to Garcia's office, half a muffin in hand, giving him a quick kiss goodbye as Hotch reminded Spencer about the thirty case files he had to go over with short deadlines.

[scretladyspider]

please don’t scroll; I really need your help to reach my gofundme goal of $3500 and not become homeless.

Im Elle, a queer, ace, disabled person with ADHD, depression, and two cats. In November, I lost my job without warning. I have no savings as the job already had me living to the last dollar of every paycheck. I was denied unemployment and food stamps. I cannot work away from home, a physical job, or something with strict hours due to some yet-to-be-diagnosed illness.

this is my story — what’s going on & how I got here. (Smaller text used because it’s a lot of information/a long post.)

In early 2018, I was doing regular walk/runs. In 2019, I stopped being able to run, so I went on walks. Running took hours, then days, to recover from. My body couldn’t produce energy to do it consistently, so, walks. In 2020, I kept going on walks and tried to do aerobics. I was not able to keep doing aerobics. My body took hours upon hours to recover, where before it hadn’t, I was alone for almost all of 2020, and never developed COVID symptoms; it was what happened with running all over again. In 2021, it started to take more time to recover from walks. Then I started to need to take a nap immediately after I clocked out from work— and it was a work from home job. In 2022, I began to go from my sitting desk job straight to my bed most days, laying down exhausted right after work, even sleeping through lunch to get some rest.

On New Year's Eve 2023, I spent 30 minutes cleaning, including vacuuming my living room. I had to rest the rest of the day.

In the last five years, I've gone from running to being exhausted for hours by taking my garbage to the curb.

Imagine you were someone who enjoyed recreational exercise. Now imagine doing 1/100th of that and feeling sick for days. Thats me.

There are other symptoms also. More vulnerability to infection and more trouble fighting infection. Shooting, sharp muscle pains in large muscles such as the thigh or forearm, like a pinched nerve, that come and go at random. Pulse rate that skyrockets upon standing, to go back to normal soon after. Stomach inflammation. Inflammation without major swelling. Headaches. Complete inability to tolerate heat, leading to excruciating migraines that only go away with things like cold showers, electrolytes, and hours of rest in the dark with ice. Muscles that literally don't feel like they're getting oxygen. Random rashes. Face flushing. Being much more easily out of breath, yawning over and over, like I can't get air correctly. Weight gain, no matter what I eat or don't eat.

And just being so, so tired.

In summer of 2018, something… stopped working in my body. I felt sick all the time. I had a low, unexplainable fever nearly every day. Shooting nerve pain would wake me up at night. The doctor said I had a cold. But months went by and I didn’t get better. When my blood work and thyroid hormone level was normal, I was referred to a rheumatologist.

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia after he made me wait 45 minutes, came in and asked “are you tired?", poked me hard, said I was tender, and left without running tests. This sort of “uhm the standard blood work came back normal, have you tried exercising more? I know you’re here because your body can’t recover from it but have you tried more of that? Also going to sleep at night?” has been the response over and over and over for five years. It got to the point where I even started to wonder if I was somehow making it up. I see a psych nurse. She thinks there's more than just depression, ADHD, and other things - though we both agree that managing those is vital too. She used to be a cardiologist, so this is reassuring. But when I have tried to see other doctors, it goes differently. Most of the time they see I have ADHD, a long history of depression, and hypermobile joints, and say that explains everything. I can't count how many times I've been told "well, you have depression” when the labs, if they even agreed to run them, came back normal. My standard blood work sometimes comes back with anemia, but I take an iron supplement. No improvement had come of it. I’ve had my thyroid hormone levels tested over and over, but never the antibodies. No imaging or referrals have happened, outside of one to a second rheumatologist. He ran no tests either; he just saw my joints are hypermobile and I was “sure taking a lot of mental health medications” (two at the time), and… that was that.

I had given up on actually even getting help until my SIL recommended a doctor she knew. For the first time in five years, when the standard blood work and TSH tests were normal, she told me we would keep looking. I actually cried with relief at that. It’s amazing to be believed after all this time.

Because of …. All of this, I'm trying to figure out how to either work for myself or find a work from home job that has flexible hours I can choose. I literally wouldn't be able to work a retail gig where I have to stand for eight hours, or even a 9-5 where I have to be there for those exact hours, because my body cannot do that right now. I want to get better but it's a long way off. First I need to know what's even wrong. I'm praying for a diagnosis soon. And treatment. At the least, management.

I have heard of EDS and I have been evaluated. I apparently don’t meet enough criteria, hence the diagnosis of JHS instead. It’s in the same family. I have also heard of POTS. I am pursuing testing. Same with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, MCAS, fibromyalgia… yeah. The thing is nothing outside of the standard blood count and thyroid hormone level test, no other lab tests have been done. There are so many things this could be that have never been checked. Lyme disease, for example, is extremely common where I live (it’s actually just extremely common worldwide) and matches much of my experience, but 1) in the USA the initial Lyme test relies on a strain of bacteria cultured in the 80s 2) there are over 100 strains of Lyme disease in the USA 3) in spite of decades of research there are doctors who don’t believe chronic Lyme exists 4) no doctor has ever checked and I only recently learned anything about it so I never asked. But… there are a lot of things to check that I’ve never had checked is my point. Fingers crossed someone can help me get there.

I do not have a partner who can try to support me through this, and my family already supports me however they can. My severance (which was low as I found out I was being paid much less than the rest of the team later) paid only my January rent.

Since my ability to work is severely limited right now, and I've been denied unemployment and food stamps, and I would need a diagnosis and to be awarded disability benefits in court (which can take YEARS that I don’t have), I have nothing in savings because of years of underpaying jobs the cost of living and being disabled and going through prior periods of unemployment due to this and other factors, I am left in a tough spot without help. Without this help, this gofundme... I have nothing.

So... here I am. A queer nonbinary disabled neurodivergent writer, trying my best, living with some undiagnosed illness that's severely impacted my ability to function, who got fired without real reasons (in America they can just do that to you without even telling you why), asking for your help to pay my February rent and January bills so I don’t repeat the trauma of being homeless. Or for you to reblog this.

Thank you for reading all of this.

It’s been on my chest for a long time. Even if it wasn’t for the gofundme, it feels good to talk about and be honest about my health. It reminds me you’re not supposed to feel like this all the time when I tell other people and they tell me I should get help and deserve answers. It’s reassuring to see competent doctors who finally believe me. I hope we figure it out.

no donation is too small— they add up. If just 100 people gave $35, the goal would be met. Sharing is also giving— it means someone who can help is more likely to see it.

You can also help via my venmo — secretladyspider

CashApp — secretladyspider

or find PayPal in my tip jar in my linktree

Goal is $3500 or over. Funds needed ASAP. If it goes over, that’ll help with February.

Thank you for anything and everything.

[igotanidea]

Heal the past: Dick Grayson x f!reader

Summary: Y/n and Dick has no secrets from each other. She is his pillar, strong and reliable and always there for the all the batboys. So, why does her health keep getting worse and what could she possibly keep in the dark?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, past trauma and therapy sessions, apart from that it's fluff/comfort

A/N: another story based loosely on a work case. I hate domestic violence incidents and hereby I dedicate this ff to everyone who has ever experienced one or currenly is - seek help, you can free yourself from that pain and fear. The first step is always the hardest.

„Y/N?”

„Hi there” she slowly turned her gaze towards the door where Dick was standing, eyeing her carefully. She tried her best to cover up for how she was feeling, but she was painfully aware he noticed everything. Her slightly red and puffy eyes, her reddened cheeks, the way she was holding her knees against her chest, rocking back and forth, mere seconds before his entering. He knew she wasn’t all good, there was no point in neither asking nor denying. If anyone was looking  for a perfect example of a mess  sure as hell she was one. 

“How… how was it today?” He dared to take a step in, testing girls’ reaction and since she did not ask him to leave he came even closer, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“Hard.” she managed to say. “But what’s new.” Another attempt at cover-up by using a sad smile.  

“Is it a good or a bad sign?” it was so touching how truly concerned he was.

“I … I don’t really know. It’s just a lot to process, you know. The years of trauma and hiding your own feelings and emotions?”

“Believe me, I know well enough” he sighed deeply and she mentally slapped herself. He’s been through a lot as well.

“And yet, between you and me I am the one who was forced to start therapy sessions.”

“You weren’t forced……” he trailed, but she cut him off

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was offered the chance to work through my past and convinced to accept.”

“Y/n……” he reached for her hand but she retrieved it from his grip, making his face drop a bit.

***

Half a year ago something bad started happening to her. Nightmares, constant fear. She had those symptoms before, but never so strong. It was not because of the fact that she became a part of bat family, taking care of teenage vigilantes and dating one of them. Nope. Surprisingly she was taking that pretty well, all things considered. This was the normal amount of stress. The problem was elsewhere and even though everyone was worried about her, she was just shrugging it off casually pretending she was doing fine. Nonetheless, it took an enormous amount of energy to suppress the shaking hands, calm the breath and not scream out loud when panic attacks creeps in for unknown reason. And then, because of all of this sucking up she started having headaches and later on, migraines, up to point where light was always too bright, and the sounds were always too loud. But she tried her best to survive, act strong and just live on, even if everyone knew something was terribly off. Their premonitions soon turned reality when she fainted in the kitchen.  She didn’t even get a chance to wrap her mind around what was happening when out of the blue she got dizzy, the whole world was spinning and she felt as if someone hit her in the back of the head with something extremely heavy.

“Jason…..” she gasped since he was the one closest to her, his eyes immediately focusing on the girl and his expression changing from his natural wry to concern and a bit of fear

“Y/N? What is happening?”

“I’m not…….. I’m not feeling well….” she grabbed the kitchen counter stabilizing herself but it was for nothing “I think…. I’m gonna throw up…”

“Jeez, Y/N, in some other circumstances I would ask you if you are pregnant, but …. hey, come on, don’t  plotz on me” thank god, he was quick enough to catch her  before she hit the ground yelling for Dick to come quickly.

Grayson wasn’t usually the one to react to Jason commands and it was no different this time. It took three attempts to finally get him to move his butt, and he only did so, because his younger brother pointed out it was about Y/N. Just the mention of her name made Dick sprung out of the couch and rush to the kitchen. Oh, he did not expect to find his love unconscious in Jason’s arms and a lot of feelings flooded him.  Confusion of what just happened, terror of whether she was alright and anger, ironically jealousy since Jason was the one to hold her and the unreasonable amount of guilt since because she was his girlfriend it was his duty to care about her and protect her. But all that could wait. She was the priority now. What was important, was checking her medical condition and finding out what caused her fainting. Dick was quick to take her from Jason and scoffing and frowning at his brother carried her to the bed, calling Alfred on the way.

While she was being checked up and still out cold, Dick refused to leave her side for a second, holding her hand in his, caressing her palm and praying silently that everything would turn up fine. He wouldn’t survive if it turned out that she was sick and dying for example. He should have taken better care of her, he shouldn’t have exposed her to so much stress, he should have told her to go see the doctor the second he noticed her health deteriorating. He should have…

“Master Dick?” Luckily, Alfred knew when to step in to stop the boy’s from beating himself up and his mind from spiraling

“Yes, Alfred?”

“She’s going to be all right. There’s no sign of anything suspicious about her organism. Maybe just a little increased blood pressure, but it will pass.”

“Thank God” Dick let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding “Thank you, Alfred.”

“It’s nothing .And … Dick?”

“Hm?” this time the boy did not even bother to look at the older man, his gaze fixed on the girl’s face, gently caressing her cheek, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“She’s gonna need some rest. And…. And I think she should see a specialist.”

“A specialist?” now he turned towards the butler “what do you mean?”

“Don’t you see? You know, master Dick for someone so well trained in observation as vigilante, you can be absolutely oblivious in real life. Y/N suffers from anxiety disorder. And maybe, maybe she’s a bit depressed, but I’m not   qualified enough to determine that. “

“She’s what?” Dick opened his eyes wide in shock  “Why? Why did she never tell me?”

“You will have to ask her about that yourself. I’ll leave you two alone.”

“When will she wake up?” Dick’s voice broke a little and Alfred knew how much strength it took for the boy to hold himself together upon hearing the revelations.

“Can’t really tell, but I suggest you to be patient.”

“Right…. Thank you, Alfred. Will you…. will you stay with her when I go patrolling tonight?”

“Are you crazy?” Jason came inside the room almost yelling at his older brother but quickly calming down when he noticed Y/N pale figure on the bed “You’re not going anywhere. Demon, replacement and me can take of things. She needs you more. Besides, I don’t think you;ll be able to focus on anything and as much I would love to see you beaten up for once, she would kill me if I ever let anything like that happen. Can’t risk her wrath.”

“Her wrath, huh?” Dick smirked

“Yeah. Of course. But… she’s gonna be all right, right? She just looks so weak….”

“We’ll make sure of that.”

“Why did no one tell me y/n lost consciousness?!”

“Father, calm down.”

“How can I calm down Damian? She’s……”

“She needs quiet. I suggest both of you stop yelling!”

“Who’s yelling now, Tim?!”

“Oh, shit….” Dick facepalmed

“I’ll get them out of here.” Jason stated simply

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”

However, Jason did manage to drag Bruce, Tim and Damian out of the bedroom and forced them to focus on patrol, while Dick just stayed with Y/N. At first he was sitting beside her bed, but after fifteen minutes started getting nervous, pacing around. Why wasn’t she waking up? Alfred said she was fine, but … shit! He ruffled his hair in desperation. It was going to be a long night.

***

 He gave up after three hours. He was exhausted from his own thoughts and walking back and forth like no night patrol has ever made him. Defeated by his own body and tiredness he finally laid down next to Y/N, gently sneaking his arms around her pulling her in from behind, nuzzling his face into her neck, hoping she would somehow feel his presence and the love he felt for her. Apart from a single sharp breath when he touched her and a bit of a shift in a position she did nothing more, especially did not wake up. So he just laid there, eyes shot, brows furrowed.

“Please, don’t leave me…..” he whispered against her soft skin.

***

She woke up two hours later, at 2 a.m., but not in the way he was expecting. She sprung out, crying and panting, definitely reliving some crazy nightmare. Her whole body was shaking, petrifaction in her  eyes breaking his heart.

“No….” she panted, tears falling down “no, no, no, no, please……” apparently she wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Y/N” he said quietly, not wanting to scare her “It’s ok. It was just a nightmare. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“Di… dick?”

“I’m here, baby” he held her close to his chest, engulfing her in his warm embrace “No one is going to hurt you, I swear.”

“I….”

“Sh. You don’t need to say anything.“ he pulled her in even closer, not sure if he was trying to comfort her of himself. Maybe both. “Unless you want to. Do you want to?”

“No.” she shook her head

“All right then. We can just stay like this.”

“Dick?”

“Hm?” he hummed, stroking her hair and laying back down with her on top of him

“Can you just hold me like this for a while? I … I really need this.”

“Y/N.  We’ve been together for like a year now and you still feel the need to ask me about it?”

“You know…. it comes from my past and……”

“Hey, it’s ok. You don’t need to explain. I will hold you for however long you need. And as long as you will allow me to.”

*** Dick knew she needed space, he did. But the nightmare that happened that one night repeated three more times in a row and he had to confront her about it. How could he let her suffer alone like this?

“Y/n, enough is enough.” He stormed into her room, not caring about the closed door

“What are you talking about?” she raised an eyebrow at him

“You need to tell me what is going on with you.”

“Nothing is…..”

“Stop it” he spat and she flinched at the tone. “Sorry, I did not mean it to come out like this” he rubbed his forehead “but I need to know what’s troubling you. I need to know what I can do to make it better…..”

“Dickie….”

“Please…” he whispered placing himself next to her, grabbing her chin softly making her look at him, knowing well enough she would try to avoid his gaze.

“How can I…..?” she gulped “how can I even begin to explain this…..?”

“Baby, it’s me. I love you. You don’t need to hide.”

“But….”

“Listen to me, nothing, nothing you did can make me change my mind about you.”

“But…..”

“I’m here for you.” he whispered kissing her forehead and this simple gesture broke her as she started sobbing, trying extremely hard to muffle it by covering her mouth with the hand. “What’s the nightmare about?”

“It’s… it’s about my father… Shit, it’s so stupid….. I should be over it, it has been so many years since…..”

“Did he do something to you?” Dick’s voice turned a bit more vigilante- like, his eyes glistening with first indications of rage

“He…. He was on short fuse… and…. Many, many times when I said or did something he did not like …..

“Y/N. You need to tell me exactly what did he do to you.”

“He used to beat me up…..” her voice was now barely a whisper “never enough to leave any bruises or cuts though. At least, not physically” she let out a hysterical laugh while still crying

“I’m gonna find him and kill him” Dick hissed, now turning into vigilante, but quickly getting back on earth. It was not right, whatever fury was running inside his veins. He could not comprehend how anyone, let alone man, fuck!, a father could use any aggression on his beloved girl. No wonder she was upset of late

“Dick, please, I’m sorry. I never should have told you. It was so long ago, I really have no idea why this started taking its toll on me now. Maybe it’s because  I fell for you and … and I don’t really have good experience with men………. I’m sorry…”

“Why are you sorry? My babygirl. I love you so fucking much, you know it, right?” he pulled her into a hug, kissing her head repeatedly. I would never, never hurt you.” she was shaking hard in his embrace “God. Why did you never tell me this?” she muttered something incoherently, but he did not care about her reasons to keep it secret. “Did he beat your mum too?”

“I… I can’t remember. But to tell the truth, my mum was even worse at times…. She…..” Y/N started hyperventilating “she was more of a vocal aggressor….I… I….”

“Ok, that’s enough. Focus on me, ok? The past is in the past. You are mine to protect and care about and love . Whatever sad story you had, not every man is like your dad. I’m not.”

“I know” she sobbed desperately again “but it just hurts so deep. I never knew….”

“Sh.sh. Don’t worry. We’ll get you help. I promise. I’m not leaving you alone with this.”  

 And that was how she ended up in weekly meetings with psychologist. At first she was doing everything to avoid the uncomfortable, painful parts of her life. The doctor however was not easily manipulated and after first three meeting she was like a zombie, processing all the emotions extruded for years. Letting someone see them, riffle through them and make her fell apart was a lot. And deep inside she was worried if she could pick up all the pieces and figure out who she was under the surface. But slowly, slowly, she was healing and it was as much because of Dick’s and whole Batfamily support as of her own efforts.

*** Sometimes, there were bad days, obviously, sessions that made her feel broken, vulnerable and helpless. And this was definitely the case today. That was why she isolated herself in her room, putting all the information together in her head. And that was why Dick was a bit hesitant to check on her, but decided to give in and talk to her, hoping she won’t cut him out, but when she yanked her hand he wasn’t sure if it was good idea anymore.

“I’m sorry, Dick. I didn’t mean to give you the air” she looked him into the eyes, cupping his cheek “It’s just an old habit. I know you care about me. I’m… I’m still learning how to be more… open with what I feel. And how to get past my… well, past” she chuckled lightly and it was the best view he could ever see.

“Trust me, I’m learning with you. “ he leaned into her touch “And I need you to know that I’m proud of you.”

“Proud?”

“For putting yourself out there. I know it’s hard.”

“Whatever you say, Mr Nightwing.” She punched his chest

“Is this how you wanna play now, Miss Y/N?” he grabbed her wrist and kissed each of her knuckles, simplicity and tenderness of this gesture making her melt.

“Can you hold me?” she burst out “I need to know you are real and not just a friction of my imagination”

“Come here” he opened his arms and she dived in without any inhibitions. “Real enough for you?”

“I love you, you fool.” She mumbled and he laughed wholeheartedly. She was really healing.

“I love you too Y/N. More and more every day. ”

[selfpositiveundertale]

Long post.

TW: car accident

Hey everyone. I'm not doing great.

I've already been having a hard time with migraines getting absolutely out of hand and interfering with literally everything in my life, but yesterday I had my first car accident. The meme I just posted is relevant. It was my fault but thankfully only me in the vehicle. Other than bruised knees(I'm short so I had the seat pulled up close so I could reach the pedals) and some mild rug burns where the air bag got me on my left hand and my neck (I had instinctively raised my arms to protect my face), I don't think I was injured in any way my chiropractor couldn't fix. Definitely jarred my entire skeleton and dislocated some ribs and messed up my neck but what else is new. I didn't hit my head and nothing hurts in any way I'm not already deeply familiar with. Surprisingly I haven't gotten a migraine yet but I'm fully expecting one soon.

Really good thing I wasn't wearing my sunglasses. I lost the pendent off my necklace though. It must have broken off when the air bag blew and then fallen into the road when I got out of the vehicle.

My vehicle is totaled. Not a great loss since the thing was on its last legs anyway but it sucks not having my own transportation now, even if I could only drive in town and couldn't leave town because it wouldn't make it far on the interstate. It would start shaking like a leaf any time I went over 50 mph and I didn't like that. I'm really sore and tired and shaken up but I'm getting through it.

My husband came immediately when I called him and he talked to the car insurance company and called his boss to take the rest of the day off work so he could be with me.

The people in the other car were mostly okay other than the man having a cut on his forehead and his wife having a scraped knee but both of their babies were completely unharmed, thank goodness. Nobody was mad at me, possibly because I was hysterical panicking inconsolable and kept apologizing and asking if they were okay. They were also on their way to the car dealership to see about getting a new vehicle anyway, so I think they'll be fine.

I made an appointment with my chiropractor this morning and he checked everything and basically said I was in pretty bad shape but not really any worse than usual, which was a great relief but not surprising. He fixed the ribs, my shoulder blades, neck, and hands and gave me some samples of a supplement he said might help the soreness. I'm also taking my painkillers, OTC pain medicine, and applying arnica cream to the bruises.

I've been so tired and sore and haven't been up to doing much of anything except eating my feelings but I'm making sure my pets get fed and helping my husband get ready for work in the morning. I don't think I'll be able to meal prep anything for him like I normally do and he says it's okay, he's not expecting anything of me if I don't feel up to it and he doesn't mind buying his breakfast and lunch.

I fear the financial repercussions of this, especially since things have already been very tight due to several sudden veterinary expenses. The cat gods looked at us and went "kittens upon you and your household" so in the last 4 weeks there have been 2 vet visits for a tiny baby runt of a kitten my husband found alone and abandoned at his workplace, one for a very pregnant stray kitty that followed a family member home and popped out 7 babies, and one for my dog when she caught a UTI. We think she's over it by now but I'm taking her back to the vet Friday for a recheck. It's been hard with her because she's been refusing to eat her dry food and we've been having to buy wet food as well as chicken breast and white rice and alternating between the wet food and a bland diet when the antibiotics made her tummy upset. I'm really hoping that by Friday I'll be brave enough to drive. The vet isn't far and my mom is going to let me take her old car for whatever I need until we manage to get me another used vehicle.

I know the car insurance is going to go up because of the crash even though now there's one less vehicle on it, and I'm praying to the heavens that I don't have to actually go to a doctor and get checked out because of the crash.

I need to see a doctor anyway about the migraines that are now coming several times a week and affecting me in unsettling ways like impairing my speech, making me nauseous when I use my eyeballs for their intended purpose, and even made me collapse once. But the clinic I usually go to because the price is income based is in the next town and I'd definitely have to have my husband take time off work to take me. I also fear they'll refer me to a neurologist. I'm certain I need to see one but since I don't have health insurance and the process for getting financial assistance at any given specialist office is (probably deliberately) incredibly difficult and tedious and almost not even worth the effort, it just doesn't seem feasible at this time.

I am trying to make things to stock my Etsy shop so I can make some money but at the moment I just don't have the energy for it. But maybe I should try anyway. The simple repetitive action of crocheting while listening to a book or Old Gods Of Appalachia might help me settle down and feel more normal. My hands ache but my compression gloves might help.

Things are just extremely scary and very painful right now. Staying determined is hard but I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 14: “Feed me poison, fill me til I drown”

Read it on Ao3

- Time & the Chain

- Summary: Time grows ill by no ordinary sickness

CW for poisoning and all the horrifying symptoms that come with it (including vomiting and severe shortness of breath) and kidnapping

———————————-

The inn has become outrageously loud.

Time isn’t certain when it went from the usual hubbub of gathered humanity to an overwhelming cacophony of noise. All he knows is that he needs to get away from it. Now. Before he gives in to the urge to curl up on the floor in fetal position.

Strange. He can’t recall the last time he yearned to do that.

It has been years, to be certain. Years since a small child hid in a Castle Town alleyway because it had all, very suddenly, grown to be too much.

Time drags in a breath that doesn’t fully fill his lungs and pushes himself to his feet. If he steels himself, perhaps, he can look purposeful rather than panicked.

“What’s up, old man?”

Legend is staring at him from where he sits on a bench, wedged between Wild and Hyrule. He raises an eyebrow.

“You heading to bed already?”

Time tries to smile. It comes out feeling more like a grimace.

When had it grown so cold in here?

It feels as though the winds of Snowhead have swept in through the swinging double doors. He shivers slightly and the small movement makes the pounding in his head a hundred times worse.

“I’m actually headed outside,” he says, his own voice sounding strangely far away. “I just need a bit of air.”

They’re all watching him now, varying levels of concern on their faces.

“Are you alright?” Sky asks.

Time nods. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just a bit stifling in here is all. I’ll be back in soon.”

Most of them still look worried, but he can hardly afford to stand here, assuring them of his good health. The room is closing in now and blurring slightly at the edges. If he doesn’t get out soon…

With a desperate sort of abruptness, Time turns on his heel and heads for the door.

The main streets of Castle Town are still busy. The inn is relatively out of the way, though, situated snuggly in the back of the town. Few people come down here and Time is glad of it. With a sigh of relief he leans back against the wall.

…only for his legs to give way seconds later.

The ground tips beneath his feet, his stomach lurches, and suddenly he finds himself on his hands and knees. He stares down at the cold cobblestone, trying vainly to comprehend what has just happened. He had been fine a half an hour ago — he had been fine mere seconds ago, save of course, for the sudden onset of a migraine and the dizziness and cold and the way the room had surged and shrieked like a monster let loose…but those had been…

Time’s eye widens slightly. A series of shives rage through him, sudden and unbidden and terrible. They make his teeth chatter so hard he has to grit them together to keep from biting his tongue.

Something is wrong, he realizes, somewhat dazedly. Very wrong. He has suffered enough illnesses, enough injuries to know this one is not normal.

But his head has begun to feel heavy, his thoughts as sluggish and thick as the fog of the Lost Woods. And though he grasps for it, the answer he seeks hovers just out of reach.

Then, it flees entirely, replaced instead by sheer panic.

He can’t breathe.

He tries, fighting to draw precious air through airways that suddenly feel too tight. But he only manages a half-breath that leaves him feeling dizzy. Desperately, he inhales once more.

But his lungs don’t expand to welcome the air he craves. Instead, the pounding in his head intensifies. And in the next moment, his stomach rebels violently. He pitches forward and vomits.

There’s blood in it, he notes, blearily. That’s more than a little worrying.

Or it would be if he could think past the immediate conglomeration of dizziness and pain and a hazy sort of directionless fear.

A shudder rages through him. His body decides it no longer has the strength to hold itself up. He collapses sideways and his surroundings tip with him, streetlights smearing golden light across a navy sky, buildings elongating unnaturally.

For a terrible moment, he is certain that he’s falling. And maybe he’ll keep falling, down, down, down into endless darkness and he’ll be trapped again, imprisoned in a world that won’t remember him, a world destined to be destroyed.

But then his shoulder connects painfully with something hard and he realizes he is lying on the cobblestones.

Still fighting to breathe. And now to swallow. It feels as though his entire throat is closing itself off. Soon he won’t have any air at all.

This has all escalated rather quickly, he thinks with an absurd, giddy sort of mirth. And to think all he had wanted was fresh air. Unfortunately, for him there is none to be had.

Another round of shivers come, tearing his aching body apart, stealing what little breath he still has. It drives away the odd hilarity, brings back the panic of before.

He needs to get up. He needs to find help. But even speaking seems an insurmountable challenge.

Time squeezes his eye shut. His fingernails are sharp against his palm, but the pain grounds him, keeps him awake. And somehow, he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he has to stay awake.

Nausea roils in him again. He gags, tasting blood and the remnants of dinner. Dimly, he wonders how long ago it was when he sat with the other heroes, listening to them laugh and tell stories over bowls of warm stew. It feels like an eternity has passed since then. But he doubts that that is true.

Either way, the thought of food makes his stomach protest. There is nothing left in it now to expel. Yet his body tries anyway, violently. Clearly, it wants whatever is inside of him, out.

Poison.

The realization finally breaks through. But it’s too late to entertain the fresh wave of panic. He is fading now, the taste of blood pungent on his tongue, stones cold against his skin. Even if he had the strength to do more than lie here and attempt to breathe, it wouldn't do him any good. He doesn’t know how to deal with poison. He’s never had to learn.

Footsteps sound now. He registers them, distantly, through a fog he can’t find his way out of. Then, voices reach him, muffled by the whirring in his ears.

“Is he dead?”

“No, he’s still breathing. I can hear his wheezing from here. Pathetic.”

“Besides, we never wanted him completely dead, remember? Just very, very close. Now, come on. You know what to do.”

Hands grasp his arms and roughly haul him up. Ropes snake around his wrists and pull tight. A cloth finds its way into his mouth. And all the while his every instinct screams at him to run, to struggle, to fight. But his limbs are leaden, unable to even keep him upright. He slumps heavily in his captor’s grasp.

“He won’t last much longer without the antidote.”

“Well, we don’t have much longer before the others worry and come to check on him. We go now. He’ll last until we get where we need to be.”

They begin to drag him. His feet are uncooperative, unable to even catch on the stones as they move forward. Darkness dances tantalizingly before him. He tries and fails to take another breath.

“It’s better this way,” he hears them say faintly, in the moments before he plunges into oblivion, “to keep him in this state. The Hero of Termina…he isn’t one you should underestimate.”

[motelsnleatherseats]

hiiii here is a prompt for you:

wincest s1-2 OR later seasons esp like s8? with daddy kink.... rude controlling dean who's been sam's real daddy his whole life and super pliant grateful sammy who adores him to the point where he is willing to endure pain to please dean

Sam looks pitiful, even though he's trying his damndest to hide it. It's hard for him, always has been with the way his features always manage to exude that kicked puppy expression. It reminds Dean of when they were younger and Sam would get sick or be going through a rough patch in his mental or emotional health, the poor kid, and Dean would easily put on his caretaker persona.

The trials are harder on Sam than he's willing to voice, but Dean knows. It's taking a toll on him, on both of them, but Sam is stubborn and thinks his suffering is for the best because it's somehow cleansing him even though he looks like he's on death's doorstep, and he's refusing any nurturing from his older brother. It puts Dean on edge.

Sam's been sleeping for an inordinate amount of time, has barely left his room in 24 hours and Dean's had enough. He won't eat, he won't hydrate, and he seems to be living in his suffering, so Dean decides if he won't let him take care of him that way, he'll have to take care of him in the only other way he knows how.

Dean slips into Sam's room where the air is a little heavy, like whatever celestial ailment tormenting his little brother is permeating and it sets his brow in a furrow, a frown tugging at his lips. Even in the dark space, Dean can see Sam lying on his side, his breathing steady and even. He climbed into bed next to him, moving a hand up to brush some of his hair away from his neck, and he can feel it damp with a cold sweat.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, rousing his brother to consciousness.

"Dean?" Sam asked, reflexes dulled by his foggy state of mind, shifting to try and sit up as his mind tries to make sense of what was happening, but Dean stops him, turns his shoulder so that he faced him instead, and Sam crumples back to the bed, eyes unfocused.

"I know you don't feel good, Sam, I know you're suffering," he started and Sam gave a disgruntled sound, about to put up a fight. "You gotta let me take care of you, man. You gotta let me help you feel better," he coaxed, moving his hand to cup Sam's cheek before he leaned in to press their lips together.

Sam wanted to argue, but he couldn't muster the energy to do so, and feeling Dean initiate affection towards him lifted a little bit of the heavy burden of guilt he had been piling on his shoulders ever since Dean had gotten back from purgatory. His eyes fell closed like he could go right back to sleep, but instead he returned the kiss before giving a subtle nod of his head.

"You remember back when you'd have migraines and fevers?" Dean asked against his lips, sliding one hand down between them to push under the material of the thing shirt clinging to Sam's torso. His skin was hot to the touch, temperature obviously elevated. "Remember when sometimes you'd be so delirious you thought I was dad?" he asked, and Sam exhaled a quiet sound.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, letting himself go pliant, letting Dean touch where he pleased and guide him.

"You gonna let me take care of you?" He asked again, pushing his shirt up and off before he moved to position himself between Sam's thighs as he laid him on his back. Sam knew what he was asking for.

"Yes, daddy," Sam replied, voice just barely above a whisper, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed up at his older brother. His chest ached suddenly, feeling pangs of guilt once again as the gravity of the situation had settled in. Dean had always taken care of him, stitched him back together, pulled him back from ledges. He owed him everything, and he was grateful for a chance of penance.

He lets Dean fuck him despite the discomfort and pain with the state his body is in, tries to grasp at the little bit of comfort in knowing Dean still wants him this way, that's he's willing to touch and kiss him despite all the wrong that Sam has done him, so long as it makes Dean feel good.

[3mcwriting]

Any Fan's Dream, Part 21

Taglist: @secretly-sirens, @zeeader, @imdoingathingmom, @x-theolivia, @ainsley-official, @huntress-artemiss, @hoohoohope, @ourgoddessathena, @wiintaersoldier, @vine-enthusiast, @afraidofshrimp, @myfturn, @im-better-than-your-newborn, , @mjaudrey, @igotthisasajokeyetimstillhere, @starr60, @coldmermaidhologram, @daenerysluvrr, @viperchick47, @marvelwomen-arehot, @mynightandstars

So, recently this fic hasn't had much interaction, and I'm not sure why. One of you told me that it can be buggy and hard to reach, so I'm sorry abt that but if you ever wonder abt updates, I'm gonna start up dating every saturday. Just go to my masterlist, then to the afd masterlist and to the new chapter. Hopefully you're all able to find it now. This will be the last time I post the masterlist because it hasn't been working well.

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

Your migraine and your recent suffocation seemed to get along great (unfortunately for your head). 

Your breathing was labored, your throat was aching and scratchy, and you were struggling to speak.

Overall, a great time.

You struggled to sit up against the cool cement ball behind you, head spinning as you did so. Finally managing to get your back to the wall, you tried to prop yourself up using it, slowly rising to your feet. You were disoriented, barely managing to keep your balance even with the wall supporting you. Your brain didn't seem to want to remember what had happened to lead to you waking up on the floor in pain but you forced yourself to remember. 

The voice over the intercom, the lights going out, and someone pulling you away from your friends and suffocating you. Your entire body trembled at the memory of being so helpless while you were taken away from the people you cared about. 

Now wasn't the time to think about that though, there were people talking in this room, you could hear them faintly. 

You tried to say something, opening your mouth and hardly a noise leaving it. You began to panic, why couldn't you speak? You tried to clear your throat, the action only inciting more pain in the abused area. 

You licked your lips, trying again. 

Barely a whisper came out.

You took that as progress, trying again, this time your words coming out in a soft rasp. 

"I-" you faltered, struggling to say the rest of the words. "I'm over here."

The voices stopped. 

Rapid footsteps approached you, a lot of them. You could see them: Thor, Steve, Wanda, Bucky, and Clint, but the light from the glowing cells didn't reach you. 

"(y/n), where are you?" Steve's voice was bordering on frantic. "(y/n)?"

"Here," you managed to force out the single word slightly easier than before. 

Bucky was the first to find you, being more familiar with the room than the rest of the group. He had followed your voice, getting close enough to hear your labored breathing. 

You could see the outline of his body and the faintest glint of light off his metal arm. You reached out, your fingers brushing the metal. 

He stiffened. "She's over here."

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked. 

You managed a raspy, "yes," barely managing to stay standing. 

Bucky steeled himself, seeing how you struggled to stand upright, knowing you'd need someone to brace yourself as you moved. He wasn't great with people touching him, too used to the abuse that physical interaction was with Hydra.

Wanda found the two of you, deathly concerned for you. "(y/n), could I wrap an arm around you? We should get out of here."

You wanted to say that you could walk by yourself, but you were at the point that even you could admit that you needed help. "Yeah, go ahead."

Wanda felt her heart squeeze at your voice, but grabbed your arm, setting it over her shoulder while she wrapped an arm around your torso.

With Wanda's body supporting your own, you managed to hobble out of the shadows, the rest of them returning to the entrance of the room once they saw you. 

Your legs were fine but your head was pounding almost as bad as it was when you'd first gotten the concussion. You were worried that if Wanda let go of you you would just crumple to the floor. Your head was bothering you so much that you missed the unconscious assassins on the floor until Thor began picking them up like sacks of flour.

For a moment you thought they were dead, but you saw the rise and fall of their chests after a moment. They weren't the only people you missed in your dazed state. 

Your eyes went round when they landed on Scott and Sam who were flanking Zemo, the man in between them in restraints. He looked up as you emerged from the shadows with Wanda, feeling ashamed when he saw the state you were in.

"I apologize, (y/n)(l/n)."

"Don't speak to her." Wanda's eyes glowed red, like the warning light of an alarm. 

She escorted you back to the entrance of the bunker, Thor following behind the two of you, ready to drop everything in case you needed extra help to walk (quite literally, he was ready to drop the four assassins stacked in his arms if you needed help).

As of that day hadn’t been bad enough already, somebody was waiting outside the entrance as the three of you exited the bunker.

You cursed in your head, remembering what was supposed to happen in this part of the movie. 

T'Challa was supposed to find out that Bucky hadn't been the one to bomb the building that resulted in his father's death, but with your plot-changes, you had arrived before he did and he didn't know. 

He was here for Bucky.

"Your majesty," you greeted, voice still fucked up, too soft for this situation. "There's something you need to know-"

You stopped, hearing the footsteps behind you and the way T'Challa had tensed. You turned around, seeing the rest of the group, both Steve and Bucky carrying an unconscious assassin. 

Steve saw the king, looking in between his best friend and the man that wanted to kill him. "Bucky didn't set off the bomb, your majesty. It wasn't him."

T'Challa took his word with a grain of salt, knowing the extent to which he had already gone to protect his best friend and figuring that Steve would say just about anything to protect Bucky. 

Too blinded by his own rage, T'Challa attacked, almost managing to slip past Steve to get to his true target. Steve dropped the person in his arms, stepping around them quickly and pulling T'Challa back before putting himself between the vengeful king and the tortured veteran. 

Steve was fighting T'Challa, but he was fighting and losing. 

His shield was still on his back and T'Challa wasn't allowing any time for him to grab it. Without the vibranium barrier, he was stuck with evading T'Challa's claws, no time to land his own punches on the man.

T'Challa was ferocious, driven by vengeful rage, but still fighting with the finesse you had seen in the movies. He didn't allow his emotions to cloud his mind because although he currently had the upper hand, he knew that the man he was fighting could overpower him if he got sloppy. 

You watched in horror as Bucky joined the fight, knowing just how powerful T'Challa's determination was. 

T'Challa's hand swiped at Bucky's throat, claws grazing his neck just barely, a line of red appearing as a shallow cut formed.  

"Stop! Please!" You were desperate.

This couldn't be what happened.

"STOP FUCKING FIGHTING!! SERGEANT BARNES DIDN'T SET OFF THE EXPLOSION!" You were fed up. You did not go through an explosion, days on your feet with a concussion, and getting suffocated just for this shit to happen. "I WAS THERE, REMEMBER?? I JUMED IN FRONT OF YOUR FATHER! IT WASN'T SERGEANT BARNES!!"

Deafened by his own grief and anger, T'Challa continued fighting. 

He saw it.

Bucky staggered, the snow messing up his movement. He managed to catch himself almost instantly, but T'Challa had already reached out, claws striking out like a knife. 

"I SAID TO FUCKING STOP!" You jumped in the way before it could happen, unwilling to let James Buchanan Barnes die over a stupid misunderstanding. 

T'Challa's eyes went wide when he realized what was happening, but his claws plunged into your skin before he could stop. He pulled back, but it was too late. 

You looked down dazedly. "What the fuck."

And you passed out.

~~

Wanda's voice was high with worry. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" She ran to you, stumbling in the snow and cursing the world.

"LADY (Y/N)!" Thor bellowed, rushing to you.

Bucky caught you.

You had shielded him, jumped in front of him, and took fucking knives for him.

Why?

The fight stopped, Steve running to you while Clint did the same and Sam started the quinjet so that they could get you out of there and to medical attention as fast as possible.

Steve's heart almost stopped. 

There was so much blood.

You had been stabbed mostly in the arm, but also on the side of your torso. Two of his claws had punctured scarily deep into your arm, one had just barely grazed your arm, while the other had went deep into your side. 

Steve took you from Bucky, cradling you in his arms while he sprinted to the quinjet. The rest of the team followed him, T'Challa watching regretfully. He had never meant to hurt you. He just needed Barnes to pay for what he'd done. But not you. You were the reason his father survived the explosion.

Half of him was urging him to run after Barnes, to get him and make him feel the pain T'Challa had felt when his father had been hurt. He had to stop himself, recalling what you'd yelled to make them stop fighting. Sure, you could've just been saying anything to get them to stop fighting, but he didn't think you were lying. After all, you were also injured in the explosion, and if Barnes was the man behind it, that meant you had just risked your life for the man.

~~

Since the moment Bucky had seen you, you had instilled nothing but confusion within him. Who were you? Why were you so welcoming to him? Why were you so eager to help? 

But at the moment, one question prevailed. 

Why had you saved his life at the risk of your own?

Everything had been a blur during the fight, but he had immediately known what was going to happen the moment he stumbled in the snow. Sure, it had only slowed him down slightly, but he knew that that second would mean his death.

And while that should've scared him, he could only remember all the lives he'd taken. All the pain caused at his hands and the decades of torture he'd endured and the nightmares that made sleeping more than impossible. 

After all the blood he spilled, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was a fitting way to die. 

Violently, painfully--just the way he'd hurt so many others. 

He thought that maybe he deserved it. 

But instead of those claws plunging into his body, they went into yours. 

You, the person he barely knew, the one he'd only just met. 

Young, happy, with people who cared about you. He didn't know you well---he hardly knew you at all---but even he could see how much you cared about the people you surrounded yourself with. 

So, yeah, maybe he did deserve to die in the way he'd killed so many others, but he knew you didn't deserve that fate.

~~

"Tony-"

"What are you doing calling me? You've made it pretty clear-"

"For once in your life, shut the fuck up!" Steve was fed-up and worried. He had just lost Peggy, he didn't want to lose another person he cared about. "(y/n)'s hurt."

"She's hurt?" Tony instantly went serious. "How bad?"

"It doesn't look good," Steve was unsteady, hardly believing what was happening. "We're trying to get to a hospital but there's none anywhere nearby."

~~

Tony hadn't had a good day in a while. 

With the Accords announced and the problems that arose with that---with Steve---a rift had formed between the team. Not to mention how Steve's friend had bombed the signing of the Accords, only for it turn out that he had most likely been framed. And last, but most definitely not least, the leaking of the Accords had caused even more of a shitstorm. 

Seeing some of the things that had been exposed, Tony was almost relieved. With the outrage the public was showing towards the Accords and the proof of the unethical aspects of it, all the governments behind the Accords were going to have to reevaluate their stance on it and figure out if they were worth the risk of uprising in their countries. 

The Avengers had saved too many lives, inspired too many people, for those very people to allow their heroes to be treated like war criminals. That said, there were of course the people who still supported the Accords, but the number of those people were shrinking the more information was uncovered. 

With the last week full of enough shit to fill up every Porta-Potty on the planet, Tony really shouldn't have been surprised that it would only get worse.

You were hurt.

And from the sound of Steve's voice, you were hurt bad. 

Was it not enough that he had to deal with the fear and worry when you'd been caught in the explosion? This time, you weren't even with him. He couldn't help you at all. You were in pain and possibly dying and he was stuck waiting in his private jet for his phone to track Steve's so that he could figure out where you were. 

Once his phone had pinpointed Steve's location, he instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to follow them until they caught up. But even going as fast as they were, he knew he wouldn't catch them for at least two hours. 

"Tony, what happened?" Natasha was pretty sure she knew exactly what had happened, but she didn't want her suspicions to be true. 

Peter already knew. 

With his enhanced senses, he'd heard exactly what had been said on the phone. 

You were hurt.

And he was useless to help you. 

~~

Thor looked up at Steve's words.

You were lain out on the floor, Wanda and Clint trying to stop your bleeding. You'd already lost a lot of blood, if they didn't get real medical help soon, he knew you wouldn't survive. If Steve was right and there weren't any hospitals nearby, you were doomed to death. After all, you were only human. If you had been a god you would- 

Thor's eyes lit up, knowing exactly how to help you. 

"I must take Lady (y/n)." Thor spoke, everyone looking to him. "I can get her help better than any human could provide." He was already moving to you, both Wanda and Clint hesitant to let him take you but too worried about what would happen to you if he didn't. 

"What are you going to do?" Steve asked. 

"Take her to Asgard."

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

WARNINGS: Gojo Satoru x Female OC, fluff, cuteness, comfort, communication, established relationship, marriage, husband+wife, migraines, gets a little spicy at the end.

SUMMARY: Satoru's wife comes to his aid, once again. Or alternatively: How Satoru came about the blindfold and seemingly indestructible black shirt (you know the one).😉

Read on AO3

Prequel: Gojo Takes a Wife (also on AO3)

It had been a rather frigid Sunday morning as Hannah waved goodbye to Kiyotaka, returning her home from 9:30 Mass. She took off her boots, wet with snow, and hung her coat and red scarf on the wall. She couldn’t wait to spend the afternoon relaxing, nose deep in a book with a fresh cup of chamomile tea. And with her husband. Satoru had been away on a week-long mission and had come home late last night. She had missed him terribly, but any chance of cozying with him by the fire went up in smoke the second her eyes caught a very distraught looking Makoto standing by the entrance. The housekeeper's face was almost grave stricken. Hannah felt her stomach tighten with unease. She knew that face.

“Don’t tell me it’s another one.”

The housekeeper bowed her head. “I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

“Where is he?”

“In his room. He refuses food or drink and I’m starting to worry.”

Hannah dropped her purse and dashed for her husband’s bedroom, which they both shared. Upon making it down the hallway, she saw how his bedroom door was cracked just a tad, so the protective charm couldn’t deny anyone entry. Hannah quickly, but very quietly, opened the sliding door. There, she spotted her husband lying on the bed, shirtless like he hadn’t awoken, pillows stacked on top of his head to try and block out any excess light or noise. The room was very dark, but sunlight still managed to fester through.

Hearing someone approach, Satoru lifted a pillow to see a figure that could be his wife, but everything was shifting so madly in and out of focus, it was hard to be sure. His stomach roiled from the movement and he felt as though he might be sick again, having already vomited in the bowl next to his bed. Still, he reached out for her, groaning.

Seeing her husband in such a vulnerable state made Hannah’s heart ache.

“My poor darling,” she said and rushed to his side, wasting little time hoisting her dress over her shoulders and unclasping her bra to join him in the bed. As per usual, Satoru waited for his wife to pull the covers back and get herself comfy before rolling on top of her, nuzzling his face into her bosom. The skin to skin contact was more for relief than sexual pleasure. Her scent always brought about a calming effect, helping him with the overarching pain, which felt as though harpoons were being lanced into his skull, sinking their way further inside and not letting go like hooks. Cradling his head, Hannah ran a gentle hand through his snow white hair, kissing his forehead, and pulled the covers back over him to block out the sunlight.

“Hannah,” Satoru weakly croaked.

“Shh,” she hushed, rubbing his muscled back and shoulders. At least his nose wasn’t bleeding like last time. Her fingers gently worked their way up the base of his skull. “Close your eyes now, love, and go back to sleep.”

Makoto arrived not long afterwards with a pitcher of water, along with a drinking glass, a clean bowl, and a wet washcloth. The fact her mistress was half naked didn’t deter her. The bed covers and Satoru’s head protected his wife’s modesty, not that she hadn’t seen it before. She understood.

“Does he have any meetings scheduled today?” she heard her mistress whisper.

“One,” Makoto answered. “A mission debrief meant for yesterday.”

Hannah sighed. Leave it to the higher-ups not to give her husband the Sunday off. “Cancel it, please. Tell them I was the reason why.”

Makoto cocked her head. “Wouldn’t it be better to say he is indisposed?”

Hannah turned sadly towards her housekeeper. “They mustn’t know, Makoto. If we say he is indisposed they’ll start asking questions. Have them blame me for the disruption. Lord knows they do enough already.

Few people were aware the Six Eyes wielder succumbed to life debilitating migraines. The Six Eyes was an ocular cursed technique which allowed the benefactor to see targets from great distances, differentiate between other cursed energies, and examine things from a molecular and cellular level. He could even see through solid objects. However, continually keeping both reversed curse technique and Infinity activated had its drawbacks. If he wasn’t given sufficient time to rest and recharge, Satoru’s eyes, brain, and stomach would be thrown out of sync, causing mind-splitting headaches and nausea. The aid of specialty sunglasses and bandages often kept the migraines at bay, but they’d gotten significantly worse, five episodes in the past two months alone (especially with what happened that past Christmas Eve). Hannah feared that if word got out that her husband had developed a neurological disease, it would somehow be used against him. She was willing to take the fall. The narrative that the Strongest had no weaknesses or vulnerabilities had to be maintained at all costs.

“Exactly what should I tell them?” Makoto asked.

“Tell them he has decided on a whim to take his wife out to the countryside and will not be back till Tuesday. That should give him enough time to rest. Cancel all meetings, mission debriefs, and classes he has planned as well. I don’t want him going anywhere until this awful migraine subsides.”

Satoru winced and groaned. Hannah planted another kiss on his head as Makoto took the bowl with his vomit.

“I’ve brought a clean one for him and some water,” she said.

“Yes, I see that. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything, ma’am?

Hannah smiled at the devoted housekeeper. The two of them would do anything for this one man. “No, Makoto-san,” she said, stroking Satoru’s temple dotingly as he slept. “I’m fine.”

“Very well. I’ll come back in an hour with more Bufferin. He’s already taken 600 mg.”

Hannah thanked the housekeeper for her heroic efforts and was soon left alone with her husband sleeping in her arms. She lovingly brushed his cheek with her fingers. He had such a childlike sweetness to him when asleep. Lately the stress of being the world's strongest sorcerer had started to show, though her husband hid it well. That happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care front he put on fooled most people, even his close friends. Hannah couldn’t help but worry. It was only a matter of time till the next migraine hit, and then what would they do? There’s got to be a way, she pondered, trying to brainstorm a possible solution.

Hannah's eyes landed on his glasses folded on their nightstand next to the roll of medical bandages he used to cover his eyes. The bandages themselves were nothing special, however, all his glasses were made out of a custom plexiglass found primarily in luxury cars (bought from a fancy Italian manufacturer he liked). Although the shade Satoru wore would be highly illegal if installed on a motorized vehicle; It was far too opaque for the average person to see through. Her eyes then wandered to the closed book beside the bandages.

Then the idea struck like lightning.

Hannah’s phone was in her purse near the house entrance, but Satoru’s phone was within reach on the nightstand. Careful not to disturb her dozing husband, she picked it up and furiously tapped the passcode on the Lock Screen. She searched through his contacts. Found what she’d been looking for and began texting her message. Five minutes later, the deed was done.

She would have her answer by tomorrow.

“I had no idea: The world’s strongest ‘headache’ suffers from chronic migraines. Who would’ve thought?”

Kumari was in the middle of sharpening a dull santoku against a whetstone, striking the steel in a curved downwards motion, never up. She wore her everyday apron underneath a green blouse and blue jeans, her shiny raven hair roped in a single braid down her back. Hannah had always been secretly envious of the Indian woman’s hair. It was so lustrous and thick. She knew many women who would pay top dollar to have it fashioned into a wig, but that wasn’t why she’d come to see the weapons specialist in her shop.

“Except nothing seems to alleviate them,” Hannah sighed, after telling Kumari of her husband’s condition. “I don’t know what else to do, which is why I’d like your input on something.”

Kumari placed the sharpened santoku on the counter, tucking a loose strand of raven hair behind her ear. “Okay, lay it on me.”

Hannah opened the gold lock of her Kelly bag - Sellier 25 Brown Epsom - and pulled out her copy of Madame Camille’s Simple Guide to Enchanted Textiles. She laid it on the store countertop and flipped to page 89, turning it around for Kumari to read.

“What are your thoughts on black muga silk?”

The Indian woman blinked. “Black muga silk? You mean raw muga silk that’s been dyed?”

“No, this type of silk is different,” Hannah said, pointing to an illustration in the book. “It’s spun from the cocoon of an Assamese black witch moth. Instead of yellow or white, the silk comes out pitch black. Supposedly, when the threads are woven into a cloth and imbued with a person’s cursed energy, it can’t be torn or destroyed from other curse related attacks.”

Kumari’s brown eyes widened in realization. “Oooh, that muga silk. Yes, I know what you’re talking about now. You mostly hear it mentioned in ghost stories told to frighten young children.”

Hannah’s heart sank at this. “So it doesn’t exist?”

Kumari flipped a page in the book. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then it’s real?” Hannah corrected, brimming with newfound hope.

Kumari set the book aside and leaned over the countertop, chin in hand. Her dark brows narrowed. “Forgive me, Hannah, but I’m curious. If a person like yourself were to acquire such a rare and mystical black silk, what would you intend to use it for?”

Hannah rummaged through her Kelly again and whipped out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Kumari who quickly unraveled it. The weapon specialist studied its contents, looking perplexed at all the measurements and amatueric drawings, eventually figuring out what it was.

“Ha,” she laughed. “Well, I’ll be. How cute.”

“I-I wouldn’t need much,” Hannah added, blushing at her friend’s opinion of her drawing. “A yard would be more than plenty. Do you think you’d help me locate some?

Kumari sighed and glanced at the paper with doubt. “I don’t know, Hannah. This isn’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill type fabric. Even on the black market, it’s hard to come by.”

Hannah clasped her friend’s hand. “Please, Kumari. I’m begging you. I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Kumari stared into her best friend’s desperate hazel eyes, mirroring the look of someone who would go to great lengths for the people she loved, knowing she would do the same if placed in her shoes. “Well, alright then,” she relented. “I’ll get in touch with my contact up in Assam and see what he can find. But I can’t make any promises, Hannah. Normal muga silk, in itself, is already a rarity.

“Oh, thank you, Kumari,” Hannah rejoiced, breaking into one of her infectious smiles. “It means the world to hear you say that.”

“We’ll see,” Kumari cautioned. “Oh, and tell that chutiya husband of yours I hope he feels better. I’ll keep the migraines a secret too, if you’d like.”

“Yes, we’d appreciate that very much.”

“Good. I’ll message you as soon as I learn anything.”

Hannah leapt over the countertop to crush the specialist in as big a hug her petite arms could muster. “Oh Kumari, there is a special place in Heaven with your name on it.”

The Indian woman laughed, setting her little English friend back on the ground. “When it comes to Satoru, I expect us all to have halos in the end.”

The two wives laughed and Hannah turned and waved goodbye to her dear friend, leaving Kumari’s shop with more hope in her heart than when she arrived.

All there was left for her to do was pray and wait.

“What’s this for again? Because I don’t remember you skipping my birthday.”

“Why don't you stop asking and find out?”

Satoru was sitting on the loveseat in the parlor where they ate most of their meals. He couldn’t understand why his wife was so adamant he open this gift. The box wasn’t very big. He could hold it in one hand. She had gone about wrapping it in striped red, blue, and purple paper, tied in a bow with purple ribbon. He began loosening the ribbon, but soon grew suspicious again.

“Seriously though, is this a prank? I swear I haven’t done anything. I’ve been good.”

His wife surrendered a great sigh. “Since when have I ever pulled a prank on you?” She methodically ran her fingers through his soft white hair, having buzzed the sides yesterday. “Please open it.”

Satoru let her continue petting him and untied the purple ribbon. Normally he’d use the Six Eyes to see through the box, but didn’t want to feign his surprise. He lifted the cover, although instead of showing surprise he showed mild confusion.

“You got me a…headband?”

“No, silly.” Hannah laughed at his honest mistake. “It’s a blindfold.”

“A blindfold?”

“Mmhm. So you don’t have to wear those fickle dressings around your eyes any more. This is more…state of the art, shall we say.”

Satoru held the blindfold up, examining it closely from side to side, flipping it over. “What’s it made out of? The fabric is kind of funky. I can’t figure — ”

“Never mind what it’s made of,” Hannah ushered. “Try it on.”

Satoru chuckled at his wife’s behest. “Goodness, my sweetheart is being really pushy today,” he teased, stretching the silky blindfold over his unruly white hair. “That’s strange. I have it your period doesn’t start till next week.”

It was just the two of them in the parlor. Hannah knew he didn’t mean it as a tasteless joke and was simply stating a fact. He really did know her menstrual cycle. He knew it backwards, forwards, upside down, and sideways; When she was ovulating and when she wasn’t; The days she was most fertile (clear slippery v. thick and dry); The exact date her period was predicted to start and when it was expected to end. Husbands pick up on those sorts of things when going the extra mile to impregnate their wives. Satoru had her reproduction system down to an exact science. Her period was predicted to start next week, like he said, but she didn’t care much about that at the moment. Her mind was elsewhere.

“God, please work,” she quietly prayed.

“What was that?” Satoru pulled the blindfold down his neck, pushing it back on his forehead. His gossamer-colored hair stuck straight up, adjusting the fabric over his eyes. “Hey, mind telling me why you’re acting so…so…” He took in his surroundings. “Woah.”

Hannah bit the insides of her cheeks with bated breath, waiting for him to finish his initial thought. “So…?”

Satory stood up from the loveseat and turned around the parlor, bewildered. Without glasses or bandages, looking at things with the Six Eyes at times was like staring directly into the sun, straining his vision, but suddenly the strain was gone. The blindfold wasn’t like wearing sunglasses, nor the bandages he’d been experimenting with. This was entirely different. It had him a tad spooked. “Okay, for real. What the hell is this shit made of?”

“Special muga silk from an Assamese black witch moth,” his wife blurted in one go.

“An Assamese what?”

Hannah explained her visit with Kumari three weeks prior. The weapons specialist’s contact in Assam pulled through a week later and had found a merchant willing to relinquish her 5½ yards of black muga silk for a small fortune. Kumari thought the merchant was gouging the price, but Hannah felt in no position to haggle. Her husband needed this silk. As an added value, the merchant was also willing to sell them black muga thread for sewing. Hannah purchased both and for the next three weeks got very busy. She just hoped Satoru wouldn’t be too upset with the amount missing from their checking account if he hadn’t noticed already.

“I made you a shirt too.”

Satoru stared blankly at her through the blindfold. “You made me a shirt.”

Hannah nodded with enthusiasm and walked out the parlor and down the hallway to quickly return holding what looked, by all means, to be a plain black tee shirt.

“Ta-dah!!”

Satoru quirked a snowy eyebrow (which no one could see) and took the hand-sewn garment from his wife. Like the blindfold, he gave it a once over, shaking out any possible wrinkles. Seemed harmless enough. Knowing it easier to beg forgiveness than seek permission, he started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, flashing her his abs and taut muscles, and slipped the tee over his shoulders.

“What do you think?” his wife asked nervously.

He smoothed the funky fabric. “You said it was made of silk. Why does it stretch?”

“That’s your cursed energy at play. When the silk comes into contact with a person’s cursed energy, it alters the fabric’s properties. Depending on how strong you are, the silk should never rip, tear, burn, fade, or disintegrate. Stretches too.”

“So mine’s essentially indestructible,” Satoru assumed.

“Yup,” Hannah quipped. “That’s the idea. It’s the perfect shirt, all in one.”

“Hmph” Satoru rolled his shoulders, testing his mobility in the homemade shirt. “Neat.”

Hannah was very pleased that the blindfold and shirt were to his liking. She had worked so hard on them. He hadn’t stopped wearing the blindfold, though the shirt appeared to have shrunk somehow, molding to his body. It must be due to his cursed energy, she thought. Hannah could make out every contour of his broadly sculpted chest and strong arms, counting all six of his abs with ease. He was positively ravishing to look at. Something warm pooled in her stomach.

“Um, on second thought,” she added. “Maybe it’s a bit tight.”

“Nah, it fits fine.” But he paused upon noticing where his wife’s eyes were looking, and smirked. He flexed for her in a sexy pose. “I’m guessing it meets your approval?”

“S-Sure,” she swallowed, bringing a hand to cover her blushing cheek. “It looks…very dashing on you.”

Ooo, she shouldn’t have said that.

Her delivery wasn't subtle either. Dashing, eh?

Satoru saw the opportunity present itself like a third gift and bit his tongue. Her bashful expressions never stopped being so goddamn arousing, his shy little trollop, his muse. Oh, how he adored her with his entire soul. He was gonna nibble those rose petal lips if it was the last thing he did. Satoru felt his heart rate dance in delight, pumping blood away from other parts of his body to fill the limp juncture nestled between his legs, hardening. He loved how easy his wife was to tease. This next round was gonna be fun.

“Hmm, I don’t know, Princess,” he purred, slinking his way back to her like a prowling tomcat. “Judging by how ‘tight’ it is, I might need help taking it off.” He towered directly over her and seized her hips, maneuvering his large hands ever so slightly to covet the plump round cheeks hiding beneath her dress. He rumbled in her ear, voice matching the silky-ness of his shirt. “Your expertise in this department may be required.”

He squeezed.

“Really, Satoru?!” Hannah gasped, but did not pull away from his advances. “Here?” They hadn’t left the parlor and there was no door. Megumi and Makoto could walk in at any moment (which had happened far more often than naught). Satoru tugged the blindfold up to his forehead.

“Yes, here,” he growled with bedroom blue eyes, already roaming his hands up the folds of her skirt. “I need to thank you, and I can think of no greater way than having you right here, right now.” She had taken such good care of him, it was his time to return the favor.

These were truly thoughtful gifts after all.

Plus, she hadn’t lied. He did look awfully ravishing in the shirt. Hands groping her ass, he lowered himself on his knees and lifted her skirt to begin trailing hot, butterfly kisses up, up, up the sides of her leg, mouth slowly edging its way to her panties. The sweet smell of her arousal was overwhelming. He felt dizzy.

“N-No, darling, no,” he heard her whimper, trying to close her legs with his head in between. “That isn’t what I want.”

“Then what do you want, sweetheart?” He planted a kiss on her inner thigh and removed himself from under her dress. “Tell me.”

A wave of delight tingled all the way down his spine to his groin when he watched those pretty hazel eyes flank his front. “That,” she said, pointing.

Satoru followed her finger to where his now very defined erection was pushing against his pants.

He looked up at her. “How do you want it?”

The thirst in her eyes was insatiable now. Satoru swore his hard cock lurched (gimme, gimme) at the sight of her swallowing. “Couch,” she ordered.

Just like turning a switch, he relinquished all control.

Satoru scrambled his way back to the loveseat and assumed position, widening his hips for her.

Hannah giggled at his eagerness and got down on her knees. He couldn’t help but moan in great relief when that zipper came undone. She flipped over his soiled boxers enough for the hardened shaft to break through and fully stretch out. Ah, yes, much better. He shimmied in the loveseat, making himself comfortable as Hannah helped him ditch the pants and boxers all together, his johnson free as a jaybird.

He looked funny with the blindfold stuck to his forehead. Hannah giggled, wiping the drool off his face, and readjusted the silk. Wouldn’t want those beautiful blue eyes to miss all the action, now, would we? Meanwhile, his new shirt stayed on. It didn’t need to be removed for this activity.

Enjoying his reactions, the little wife artfully began undoing the top buttons of her dress…pop…pop…pop…knowing by the secretions oozing out his tip that her husband was very pleased to see her not wearing a bra. Her ample bosom came spilling out the sides like two mouth-watering fruits and Satoru wanted a taste, but Hannah reasserted dominance. “Ah, ah, ah,” she softly reprimanded, moving his hands away. “I get what I want first, remember?” She laughed and kissed his pouty lips. Once unbuttoned, she scooched in closer, and with her index, swiped a dollop of sticky secretion off the tender-most part of his penis, rubbing it between her fingers, testing its consistency. Her husband’s breath staggered, his whole body quivering from the lightest touch.

He was healthy as a horse.

“You ready, darling?” she finally said, widening his hips so she could sandwich herself in between.

“For you?” Satoru huffed, unable to take his eyes off her, bracing for impact. “Always.”

“Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want, baby. You have the reins.”

She knew what that meant and immediately dove underneath him, stroking his length up and down with a goddess-like hand, while her tongue licked every square inch of his balls, gently sucking and nibbling. All Satoru could think about as his wife’s supplicant mouth made short work of him was, Yup, this is definitely my new favorite shirt.

He wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

[iamthecomet]

Hi dear 💙

Do you have any thoughts on ghouls with chronic pain? It's been a rough one.

Love, Mac

I'm sorry you're having a rough time Mac. I hope tomorrow is a better day with less pain. I have some thoughts, nothing too crazy because I am old and therefore exhausted and very much ready for bed at 11pm. But, I'll give you what I can. And it's something I'd love to explore more in the future--these really are just some basic headcanons. Feel free to ask me to elaborate and I would be so happy to. A good amount of words about ghouls with chronic pain below the cut. No real diagnosis because I don't know shit about shit, just my personal headcanons and descriptions of what they go through and how they manage it.

As far as ghouls who deal with chronic pain? Zephyr, Mountain, Dew, and Aeon are the ones I headcanon with it the most often. Aeon absolutely has some form of hypermobility. And he pushes himself too hard. Uses his hypermobility to show off. And then pays for it with joints that feel like they've been lit on fire. Mountain eventually makes a special salve for him--similar to one he's made for Zephyr that helps alleviate some of the pain. Dew gets migraines. A particularly bad one can sideline him for days. There's no telling when they're going to hit, fueled by stress and/or exhaustion. He usually gets a little bit of a warning aura, but then he's down. Curled up in the fetal position in his bed until the pain passes. It's a full body, inescapable pain. Mountain has a tea for him that helps--mostly it just makes him sleep but that's better than nothing. And when it's really bad Aether (or Aeon if they're on tour) will slip into his room and use his quintessence to wick away some of the pain. Dew's known to play through them--Aeon dulls it right before they go on stage, and by the time they're done it's back full force and it's all Dew can do to get to the bus and into his dark bunk. Mountain's got back pain. Always. Every day. Inescapable. He smokes weed to make it a little better. Gets frequent massages. But it doesn't change the fact that every day he wakes up feeling like he's slept on rocks. He and Zephyr are as close as they are because they've been dealing with pain since they were summoned. Both of them seeking out ways to dull it, at least for a little. Mountain does have some tricks that work--herbal concoctions he's made that make it a little better. And most of his days are tolerable. He always aches but he can move around, he can garden, he can drum. The rare bad days though? He's immobile. Laying on his bathroom floor (hoping a hard flat surface will straighten out his spine). Most of the concoctions he's made for other people he made by accident when he was trying to find some relief for himself. Zephyr's summoning went wrong. Their vessel is not compatible with them. So, it rebels on a regular basis. Their joints ache, changes in the weather make it worse. Some days, it's every single joint in their body, their fingers, their toes. Everything. Others it's their knees. Zeph is high, a lot. Almost always smoking to try to make things manageable. They make due. They're able to do their duties for the most part. But their physical condition is what made them retire from Ghost--touring was impossible. They have stretches they do every morning. They go for a walk with Dew around Mountain's smallest garden after breakfast. They stay as active as their body will let them. And, it goes without saying, that on their worst days their pack takes (almost too much) care of each of them. They can't take the pain away or fix it--but they can at least make those agonizing days closer to tolerable.

[thefanficmonster]

Gaming Night

Ash [Team Theorist] & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Stress and Anxiety, Crying

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When a mishap at work proves to be the final straw for Y/N, Ash is there to be the best friend and offer comfort.

Requested by @freakshows199 Hi dear! Sorry for the wait on your request but I hope the final product makes up for it! Love, Vy ❤

It's been quite the week for you. It's exam week, after all, it's to be expected.

Pushing through college while working on Team Theorist means your plate is constantly full but you've gotten used to it. You've built a routine and dynamic around it that allows you to manage your time in a way that allows you to excel at both and still enjoy a decent chunk of free time. Or at least seven hours of sleep.

At the end of the day though, you're only human, and having such a lengthy to-do list is pretty anxiety inducing no matter how organized you are. Just looking at your daily schedule of things that need to get done is enough for stress to start creeping in. It's admittedly not fun, but the final product - whether it be a GTLive video, a theory video you did the research for or a successfully passed midterm - is so rewarding. It makes it all worth it.

This week, however, it's been rather difficult to feel proud of the work you do and even find the motivation to do it. Stress and anxiety have riddled your mind and bleed over into your dreams which has by extension made falling asleep very difficult.

Stress and anxiety coupled with very few hours of sleep and a particularly high dosage of caffeine in your system, it's all a recipe for an inevitable crash-and-burn. Or burnout, in short,

Currently you're setting up the camera and lights for an upcoming GTLive recording session. You got to Steph and Matt's house an hour early because if you were to make a pitstop at your dorm you'd undoubtedly fall asleep and be late. You didn't wanna risk it so you just thought you'd get ahead with your work.

Ash beat you to it though, seeing as how you found them already seated behind the screen, editing the footage you recorded yesterday.

It was only after seeing them that you realized just how much you didn't want to take on the task alone. Ash is one of those people that exude such a calming and comforting aura and they are the most amazing friend to have by your side. It especially shines through when you're going through a period such as this one. They're always there to look out for you when you forget to do it yourself.

"Hey, Y/N?" They grab your attention, removing their headset as they look up at you from behind the monitor.

You stop your ministrations with the ring light and turn to give them your full attention, "Yeah?"

"Can you do me a small favor?" They've barely had time to finish their sentence before you nod, "A lot of people have mentioned that the VHS filter in the game makes it hard on the eyes when they watch the video. I guess it brings down the video quality or something. Could you take a look at the game settings and see if it can be turned off?"

"Oh yeah, I saw a lot of complaints about it. Let me see..." You stabilize the light before sitting down on the couch in front of the TV and opening the game.

You spend an unhealthily large portion of your day staring at a screen. Looking at a bigger one makes no difference as it immediately causes a migraine to start taking over, blurring your vision. That may be due to the lack of sleep or the fact that you forgot to drink enough water today, but before you know it or have been able to blink the blurriness away, you've accidentally pressed the left mouse button.

Once you do you come to realize you've made a big mistake.

Horror floods your whole body when you see that the 'continue game' option is now a darker shade, suggesting it is not available. There is no longer a game to continue. You've accidentally deleted all of the progress Matt made the previous time he played the game. It wasn't small either, he'd made it almost halfway through the story.

And you have just deleted all of it. Two hours of gameplay and effort down the drain.

You cover your mouth with trembling hands, tears already starting to form in your eyes.

This catches Ash's concern, "Y/N? What's wrong?" They ask, removing the headset completely so they can get up off their chair and come over to you, squatting down next to you. The worry you see in their eyes only makes the urge to cry worse.

"I....I-I deleted Matt's progress..." You explain in a shaky, mousy voice, a sob racking through your chest when the words reach your own ears.

Had it been any other day, sure, you'd still be upset about it. But not crying level upset. You'd see it as nothing more than an inconvenient hurdle you can easily overcome in a rational way. There's no rationality at play now.

It just happened at a very wrong time. It's nothing more than a small mishap in theory but its timing is feeding into the self-doubt you've been struggling with since exam season started. Academic insecurity and impostor syndrome have been eating away at you all week and now this feel like a confirmation that all those doubts were in fact warranted.

Even though they aren't at all, whatsoever.

"Hey, hey, hey...." Ash doesn't say it but they're relieved. Seeing your reaction without context scared them into thinking the issue was way worse. Still, they can see it's a major deal to you and they respect that. Especially since they've been well aware of how much stress and pressure you've been under. They've been through similar situations and have had similar reactions. They understand you on a personal level. And they'd never let a friend feel that way without doing their best to intervene and comfort them. Which in this case would involve just putting the whole predicament in perspective to show you how miniscule it is. "It's no big deal. Please don't cry, Y/N. We'll fix it." They say, their arm wrapping around your shoulders to give you a tight, reassuring hug you immediately fall into. You've needed nothing more than a hug this whole week and getting it brings you such relief. It provokes even more tears to stream down your face. Turns out, you've also needed a good cry.

"How?" You manage to say through sniffles, "We're starting filming in twenty minutes."

"We'll play a different game. Last minute game switch. It's happened so many times before. Matt doesn't care, he'll have fun regardless. We'll find him something to play, don't worry." Ash explains calmly, letting you start to grasp on how simple this problem is to solve when the panic takes the backseat. "Tomorrow's Saturday so I can just stick around a bit longer after we're done and play up to the point where Matt left off last time."

There's not a moment you're not grateful to have Ash in your life. This is just one of those moments where you also start believing in angels because they have to be one.

"Thank you so much, Ash." You pull away from the hug to wipe your eyes and be able to look at them properly, "But you're not doing it alone. The least I can do is accompany you. I genuinely want to."

Ash shakes their head, "No way, you need to go home and sleep..."

You cut them off with a wave of your hand, "I will. As you said, tomorrow's Saturday. I can sleep in till 3 PM if I want to. I'd want nothing more than to help fix the mistake I made."

Knowing that your resolve is impossible to shake, Ash decides it's best to just sigh and nod and agree. So that's what they do, "Alright, fine." Suddenly, their eyes light up as they get an idea, "We'll make a night out of it! Get snacks and stuff. It'll be great!"

You can't help the smile that brightens up your face as you nod, "I'd love that."

You truly would. There's very few people whose company you enjoy quite like Ash's. You don't know what you did in a past life to deserve a friend like them but you are very certain that everyone needs an Ash in their life. Everyone needs a ray of sunshine like them to part the rainclouds.

[anime-grimmy-art]

Day 4 – Buddies

Zet – Cry is Zet’s trusty partner since forever and oh boy has this poor cat been through a lot. Cry is a bit of a stickler for the rules and tries to keep situations under control, which is hard when his huntress keeps running headfirst into danger and (accidentally) insulting authority. Still, despite all the migraines he’d gladly lay his life down for his huntress. Way later, on a long journey from the mainland back to the New World, Zet stumbles onto Kamura and meets the veteran Palamute Rev. He’s a jaded old dog whose hunter had died long ago and despite all his skills had refused to be taken in by anyone. Somehow, he and Zet resonated, and despite his better judgment, Rev joined Zet and Cry for their adventure.

Mei – I’d say her buddy is Navirou, I guess? While they do butt heads sometimes, cos Navirou is very overdramatic and Mei just wants to avoid conflict, she really grew close to the weird Felyne. He can be kind of narcissistic, but Mei knows he cares a lot about her and even through danger, he never left her side. He’s also one of the only few individuals that didn’t have expectations of her since Navirou didn’t know her grandfather, so Mei found she’d often cling to Navirou’s point of view.

Chidori – Nyaba and Shibe have been with her since she was a kid, but she hadn’t seen the two for years when she was training at the Guild. But ever since she’s returned to Kamura, the two haven’t left her side. Nyaba is a very calculating Felyne and often gets called a Melynx cos she likes being a trickster. Best support you could ask for though. Shibe is a very chill Palamute since he is a very different breed from most of the dogs Iori takes care of. Not to say he’s useless in a fight. He isn’t the fastest Palamute, but he has insane endurance, like his master, and knows how to hit hard.

Day 5 – Monsters

Zet – Zet doesn’t really have a favourite monster, but she does prefer those that go “head first, thoughts later” as these monsters are very predictable and comparably easy to deal with. As for association, Zet would love to not have a link to this monster, but she sadly has strong ties to Fatalis. She had to face this monster before and almost lost her life in the fight, it was a miracle she managed to survive. After her recovery she had been sent to the New World as the Guild found her too useless (and too dangerous) to keep around, but in the end, she was forced to face the beast once again, but this time hopefully for good. I’d be amiss not to mention Xeno’jiva though, cos, ya know, Sapphire Star and all. I do personally link it and Zet together, even more so if we go with the route that Safi’jiva is the same dragon. I do love a good rivalry between hunter and monster. Also, also, if Zet had a monster-sona, it would be Velkhana.

Mei – Oh, Mei has a fondness for all monsters, really. She loves all her monsties equally, but some of her children just need/want more attention so these are kinda extra special. Of course, you have her lil baby boy Ratha, the monster fate tied to her, and Mei would not give him away for anything. Then she got her problem child Asparagus, a young and overactive Astalos. He’s like a bug dragon puppy that’s just teething, so he gnaws on everything and anyone, but Mei just finds it so adorable she would let him chew on her arm forever. Last but not least are her calm, broody ones, Apple the Anjanath and Legume the Legiana. These two are rather mild mannered but both very cuddly and affectionate. Since they’re the level-headed ones, they, along with Ratha, usually keep the rowdy bunch in check.

Chidori – As Mei is sunshine incarnate, so is Chidori Gargwa incarnate. I took a lot of inspiration from Gargwas when designing her, and her nervous and flighty demeanour also really reminded me of them. As for favourite, she likes the more chill and non-threatening monsters, at least the ones that don’t look threatening. Monsters like Tetranadon, Pukei-Pukei and strangely even Espinas (when it is asleep).