#and my meds are on the other side of my room and i am very cozy rn so no way i'm getting up to take them rn

[causenessus]

feeling like tumblr is a job BUT IN A GOOD WAY like i sign on after my actual job onto my work (tumblr haikyuu smau writer hobby) computer (my home computer on it's last dying breath) to answer emails (reblog all of my moot's wonderful works) and write up reports (my own chapters LMAO)

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : med student!abby anderson x liberal arts student!reader ᥫ᭡

content: wlw relationship. modern college au. ramblings of fluff, maybe a touch of angst but nothing heavy. enjoy <3

a/n: my authority for writing this you ask? i'm an english major who gets asked regularly what i am going to do with my degree! also this is my first time writing about abby i just had to get this idea out of my head and on to the screen.

-abby decided at a young age to follow in her father's footsteps and become a doctor as well. she committed herself to studying science and math as a kid and occasionally disregarded her other studies like music, art, and english. she did enough to keep a 4.0 GPA but her heart was in science tournaments, young medical professional groups, and ap bio.

-she got into one of the best schools in the states for medicine and was a stellar student in organic chemistry, anatomy, and neurology. she knew she was going to do great on her MCAT, but unfortunately, she wasn't doing so great in some of her gen ed classes and it was impacting her gpa.

-that was how she found herself in a tutoring center in one of the older buildings on campus that was shockingly different from the science buildings she spent all of her time in. she had an appointment with you, but was so nervous to go and admit that she was having trouble in something as simple as art history or literature or communication.

-when she sat down to have her appointment with you, you immediately calmed her nerves and assured her that there was nothing wrong with needing some help in classes she wasn't comfortable in. you helped her ace her quiz and then she just kept coming in to see you. over and over. until she eventually passed the class with an A and no longer needed your assistance.

-and then, as luck would have it, abby got her own job as a tutor for science courses and who happened to walk in but you! the tutor who helped her pass her own difficult course.

-it was history from there.

-despite abby's commitment to her education, she was always able to carve time out of her schedule to be with you. she loves studying with you and filling up a room in the library with your stuff to prepare for exams together. she takes a whiteboard and writes all of her notes on it while you're rereading historical texts or revising your final paper about a painting abby doesn't really quite understand.

-she never makes you feel less than for not studying something "more difficult" as people have before. she loves hearing about your passions for history or writing stories or creating art. she'll come with you to art galleries and try to input her own thoughts from time to time about what she thinks certain pieces mean.

-she understands that graduate school applications are just as important to you as medical school applications are for her. you'll do practice interviews with each other and try on outfits for each other.

-abby will not stand for someone making fun of you for your choice of studies. you two once went to a family gathering on abby's side and when some of her family members began interrogating you on how you're going to get a job and even imply that you'll be living off of abby for your whole life, she gets all up in their face and comforts you later! you will not be sending birthday wishes to those family members anymore and she can guarantee that.

-if you guys get accepted in to schools that are long-distance from each other, you'll absolutely make it work. abby is so methodical that she'll never forget to text you and plans out times that either of you can visit.

-if you ever dedicate a piece that you've created in school to her, she'll positively swoon. like if you wrote a poem about her, she would print it out and pin it up on the fridge. if you painted her, she would hang it up on the wall. and she's the best model for those things too

-i imagine that dinners with your colleagues or friends are very random. abby has but a few friends in her residency and they're each as professional as her. you, however, come with a group of lively people who are discussing philosophical ideas or debating about a piece of art history and how its influenced modern culture. it would be an interesting combination to say the least.

-abby would just be so interested in anything you have to do and would never be critical of your choices. she sees the passion you have for things that lie far outside her field and appreciates it. your future apartment that you build years after meeting when you are each established in your dream careers is a mesh of medical textbooks and flashcards and models but also messy journals and thrifted antiques and poems written on sticky notes for her to find.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 002

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence, drinking

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 5.4k

Walking down the long corridors of the Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered to your clothing and he felt his face heat up. It was quite revealing. Your top did not cover your arms and the sides of it well, it exposed even more skin. Your cleavage was visible from any angle. You wore what he assumed was some kind of bracelet, though there was a black square on it. Then on your fingers you were silver and gold rings. If you had access to this kind of jewelry despite being common born, then perhaps you were not. You also seemed to be unusually educated for a woman despite your manner of speaking. Along with that your neck sported two necklaces, one gold, another silver and your ears were decorated with what he assumed were pearl earrings. No one of common born status should be able to afford the jewelry you had. 

You turned your head to look at the young man who looked at you. You watched him turn away swifting avoid your eyes. You murmured an “okay” before jogging to the front of his mother.

As you went forward, your scent hit his nose and he found himself leaning forward every so slightly trying to inhale more. It was sweet, but not like the perfumes that were used. This smelled…he couldn’t describe but Jacaerys desperately wanted to smell it more. As he leaned forward he nearly tripped. He heard laughter beside him. Luke.

They both looked at each other before looking ahead at your backside. It was very pronounced with the trousers you wore. They were a gray color, tight around your thighs and bottom showing your figure, then loose towards the bottom. Both boys stared before looking back at each other. Luke grinned and pushed Jacaerys. He grinned back and pushed Luke. 

Standing next to the Princess she eyed you from the side of her eye. 

“Ehm, Princess? Where are we going?” You asked, walking next to her.

“To my father, see if you can heal him.” As she spoke you held your breath. It was clear they hadn’t yet discovered oral hygiene. 

“If I can’t?” You were afraid of the answer to come. You just wanted to go home and let your family know you were okay. The bottom line was, you needed to get home. The rest of your life was ahead of you and you would rather not spend it here. Especially if they didn’t have modern medicine. Sure you had romanticized the pretty dresses of medieval times but that didn’t mean you wanted to live here. Proper hygiene, modern medicine, the internet. You’d never survive without any of it. 

“You die.” Daemon spoke. Your eyes widened and you stopped. 

“What!? Now hold on!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Who are you to make the decision? I have plenty of other things to offer!” 

“He is my husband. Prince Daemon.” The Princess answered. 

You sighed in defeat. “Listen, there is so much more to me than just medicine. Besides, I am not a pre-med student. My knowledge is limited. I’m much better in biology and math, and…and english. I can give explanations half the time, but I don’t know if I can cure him. You guys don’t even have antibiotics, or even vaccines!” As they listen to you speak words that were unknown to them Daemon grabbed your face with his hand to shut you up.

“You can either do what you are told, or your head comes off.” He spoke and he watched your eyes widen in fear. Daemon watched you look around as if pleading for someone to save you. There was no one who would help you. Finally you gave a silent nod telling him that you would do your best. 

“Jace, Luke, go to your chambers.” Rhaenrya spoke as they reached her father’s room. A small protest was made but eventually the boys left, leaving you alone with Daemon and Rhaenrya. 

Stepping into the room you gagged. It smelled like rot in there and immediately you stepped out holding your arm to your nose. “Oh goodness!” Breathing in your own scent you looked to your right to see the woman in green walking towards you. You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and she did the same with a questioning look. She stepped inside and finally took in one final breath you stepped inside. It was a grim sight. Helpers in white dabbed the sickly King with water. For a moment you wonder if they did have clean water. 

Stepping closer and looking at the disgusting sight, you find yourself wishing that you had worn something more covering. You’d rather jump into the cold water again than touch whatever it is the King had. There were like lesions all over. You felt your hair stand on end and you gave a shiver. There was a reason you never went into the medical field. Besides of course the amount of medicines you had to memorize, things like this, you would never be able to do. 

It reminded you of a certain movie you watched. What was he called? The leopard king? No, it caused similar injuries. “Leprosy!” You spoke in disgust and you backed away. “Damn damn!” You shook your hands as if trying to get it away from you. You didn’t know how to cure leprosy! Even if you did, the material they have isn't good enough. If anything, that man was on his deathbed. You guess it would be in a couple weeks till he succumbed, maybe earlier. People like this only tend to hang on when they have something they want to accomplish. 

You sighed. Turning to the woman in the green dress, Daemon and the Princess you shook your head. 

“Uh…can I talk to immediate family members?” You meant the Princess. They all nodded and all three walked out. “Uh only relatives.” You spoke again. 

“He is my brother.” “I am his wife.” Both came out simultaneously from Daemon and the woman in green, or in other words the Queen. You made a face. She seemed far too young for the old man, and if Daemon was his brother, wouldn’t that mean he’s the Princess's uncle? 

“Ehm, I thought she was your wife?” You asked, looking towards Daemon. 

“She is.” It was a simple response but you could not wrap your head around it.

“And you two are married?” Your brow lifted in confusion. Daemon nodded and you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That cannot be good for genetics.” 

“Genetics?” The Queen spoke beside you. 

“Yes, what you pass to your children. Genotypes and phenotypes. Genotypes are the genetic make-up one has, and phenotypes are the physical features one possesses. Incest doesn’t make for the best….anyways a lesson for another day.” You waved it off before you ushered them outside. 

Alicent looked at you and the gears started to turn in her head. If this ‘genetics’ was accurate…

“Do you really mean to kill me if I can’t cure him?” Alicent heard you ask quietly and she narrowed her eyes towards Daemon as he gave a knowing look.

“Well then I suggest you start preparing two caskets.” Your tone was grim. You looked towards Rhaenyra. “You are the eldest?” You asked her and she nodded. “Well, start mourning your losses, you will be Queen soon. There is nothing I can do for him, perhaps disinfect his wounds with alcohol but that's the best I can offer. Along with that…” You kept your eyes on Daemon watching his every move. “I suggest you either boil anything he has touched or burn it. Leprosy is contagious. Put a mask on him, it assures that germs don't spread. If you have any cuts on you, or your skin is broken, don’t touch him.” You spoke in low-tones. Of course you didn’t really plan to die, but you had to find a way to get out of here and fast. 

“Then you have come to the end of your use.” Daemon's hand curled around the hilt of his sword. You turned your gaze to the hallways, but Daemon was blocking the path. Looking down towards as he began to pull out his sword. Before you could register what you were doing your body acted on instinct and pushed his sword back into its sheath. You pushed the entirety of your body weight to combat his strength. You refused to die here in a medieval hell. His other hand came to wrap around your neck. You took a hold of the hand you were pushing down and bent his thumb backwards. He yelled and backhanded you. You groaned and held your face. Licking your lip you tasted blood. As you looked up, your eyes widened in fear as you saw a sword lifted above you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.

“Hold your sword!” You heard a yell and you opened your eyes to see a hand shielding you. Then you heard a clatter of the sword he was holding and groaning, shaking his hand. “I will not have you strike her down.” The Queen spoke. “You are dismissed.” She spoke as she turned away from them to face you. 

A long pause took place as both you and Daemon glared at each other. You heard a slight murmur before he turned to walk away Rhaenyra holding his injured hand. You kept your glare on him until he disappeared from view. However, it was replaced by a hand coming to reach for your face. You flinched away. You’d rather not be touched and contract leprosy, that means you can’t even touch your lip, even as you feel a drop of blood rolling down your chin. You licked it to stop it from falling onto your shirt.

“You can’t touch me, we’re unsanitary. I have to shower…or bathe I suppose.” You spoke in a low-tone and the Queen nodded ignoring the strange wording. 

“I will call for you once you are finished. I have some things I want to discuss with you.” Alicent would need your work on genetics. If what you said was true, Alicent could not allow a bastard to be named heir to the throne, or the possibility of her children being in danger. If calling upon your knowledge is what it took, she would do so. 

The Queen dismissed you and asked for servants to prepare you a bath. You walked away with the servants and a personal guard she assigned you. As your servant led you to whatever quarters you were staying at, you admired the architecture of the castle. It was breathtaking. As you were looking around you caught sight of the man with the eye-patch and his brother with a bottle in his hand. You looked at them with a blank face before looking away, though you did not miss their lingering eyes, more specifically, their lingering eyes on your bloody lip. 

…

“They will use her to question Jace and Luke’s parentage.” Rhaenrya spoke as she paced while Daemon rubbed his forearm, the pain had traveled from just his thumb to the entire forearm. He had spent the better part of the walk back to the room cursing your name. “She is not from here Daemon. If she is right about my fathers death? They will take her words if she is able to discover-” She didn’t let herself finish. 

“Anyone could predict that my brother will perish soon. In any case if she does say such things, then she will meet the same fate as Vaemond. The cunt only managed to injure me because I did not think she would fight.” Daemon reasoned watching his wife look down towards his hand with a worried look. 

“Even so, if what she says is true…then we should stay in King’s Landing until then.” Rhaenrya sighed as she bent down to hold her husband’s hand to begin bandaging it.

…

You scrubbed feverishly at your arms and skin hoping it would be enough to get rid of the germs. It would really suck if you died from leprosy. It was such an ugly way to go, and this bruise on your lip was already ugly enough for you. Damn Daemon and damn every other woman beater in this castle. However, you did feel a bit better in this water and now that you have gotten your things back. You couldn't believe your luck that the suitcase that brought you down just so happened to be the one with all the sanitary items in them. When you saw your soaps and shampoos you nearly fell on your knees thanking whatever deity was out there.

However, you never did get any of your clothes back and this suitcase only had limited options, it only really had one or two outfits to wear along with some undergarments. But! Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Rinsing your hair and body you stepped out and put on a robe. Unfortunately, you did not bring a towel. You dug through your suitcase pulling out lacy underwear and a lace bralette. “Y’know when I said I wanted crazy things to happen, I didn’t mean this crazy.” You murmured as you put them on. 

As you finished clasping the final hook you heard a knock then the door opening. “Woah!” You yelled as you covered your top half. The man who held the bottle from before entered with a smile. 

“Is this what women wear where you’re from?” He looked you up and down. 

“Get out!” You urged as you covered yourself with a robe. 

“Here.” He tossed you your purse. “Mother sent me to give it to you.” He gave you one last look before smiling and walking out.

You scoffed and dropped the robe. Only then did you really grasp what you had in your hand. Your purse. You unzipped it and looked through it. You felt a familiar rectangular shape and you smiled and pulled it out. 

“Thank you! To whatever god there is or whoever you are! Thank you!” You shook your phone happily. “And you!” You spoke to your phone as you powered it on. “Thank you for being water-proof!” As you powered it on, it was at seventy-five percent. It was good enough. You opened maps, though only the downloaded parts cap up. Cursing you saw you had no signal. You sighed and pulled your hair back in desperation. What good was a phone if you couldn’t call anyone?

You threw yourself on your bed whining. “Someone played me ultraviolence.” Just then you shot up. “Wait!” You grabbed your phone and went through the songs you downloaded before you crashed. Finding the song you giggled as you pressed play and threw yourself onto your bed as the song played. 

“This is so aesthetic.” You sighed. You felt like you could be an album cover as this song played. Here you lay on a fur bed in your lingerie in an old castle with a bruised lip. As the song came to an end you stood up and turned off your phone. It would be best to save the battery. As you hummed the tune you looked towards the dress you were supposed to wear. Your attire you suppose was a bit inappropriate for the times. However, as you lifted the dress you questioned how exactly you were going to put this on. 

So for the next two hours you spent trying to put on the dress. 

…

As Alicent sat in silence beside her father she leaned over and whispered in a servant's ear. “Summon her.” It was a quick command and Alicent watched as the servant girl left. 

“If she's right about Viserys, then it can be used to prop Aegon as king.” Otto muttered near Alicent. “Only if she can prove without a doubt that Rhaenrya’s children are bastards.” Alicent responded as she looked towards the dark hair boys who now spoke to their betrotheds. 

Alicent sat still waiting for your arrival. Though Viserys only wanted family, she figured he wouldn’t mind the small addition of you. Finally the doors opened and there you stood with a determined look and suddenly Alicent was transported back to when she first made her stance. The pressure and eyes she felt when she first wore her green dress. Now you walked with the same green dress with arguably the most important eyes on you. 

You glowed under the light, almost unnaturally so. Your features seemed enhanced, and your skin seemed impossibly smooth. An almost perfect blush coated your face and your lips shone as if they were covered in honey. Your eyelashes were long and darker than what she remembered. The mark on your lip appeared nearly healed. It was impossible. You had only been struck hours ago by Daemon Targaryen, and even if he did not put his full force into it. Alicent hated to admit it, he was still Daemon Targaryen. 

“I thought this was family only?” Daemon asked with a smirk. Alicent watched you to see how you’d react. She only saw you give a small smile while looking down then back up towards him before taking your seat next to Alicent. Alicent inhaled your scent and you smelled sweet, it also made her want to lean over and inhale you. Never had she met anyone who had smelled so good. 

“My Queen,” Alicent heard you whisper. “Thank you for the dress, I would’ve worn something of my own, but my attire isn’t exactly proper for this kind of setting.”

Alicent gave you a nod. “Of course.”

“What do I address everyone by? I know it is not their name but, what do I say?” You asked about playing with the hems of the dress. Alicent gave you a smile. “I am Queen Alicent, you address all royalty by ‘your grace’ including Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanrya. Next to you sits my father, Lord hand Otto Hightower, next to him sits my youngest; Prince Aemond,” She watched you give her a confused look.

“I would’ve thought he was the oldest.” You whisper looking towards Aemond who always seemed to be giving a stuck up smirk. 

Alicent gave a small laugh before shaking her head. “No, Aegon, the one who sits in front of you is my eldest.” She corrected as she watched Aegon lift his chalice to you and nodded. “Next to him is his wife and my second eldest Helaena.” Alicents smiled turned into a frown when she saw you look at her confused. She watched you shake your head and look over to Jacaerys. “That is Princess Rheanrya’s eldest son, Prince Jacearys Velaryon, then next to him his betrothed, Princess Baela Targeryen, and to her right his the second eldest, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and finally Princess Rhaena.” 

“So I address everyone as ‘your grace’ then.” You whispered to her and she nodded. “Except for your father?” Once more Alicent nodded. 

A sound was heard outside and Alicent stood up and you followed right after her. Everyone watched as Viserys was brought in and his eyes zeroed in on you before giving you a small nod. Viserys called your name and you gave a curtsy, though Alicent has no idea where you learned that from. Alicent watched you as you looked to her before addressing the King properly and though she had only just taught you, a small sense of pride emerged in her chest. 

“I thank you for your suggestion to the Maesters. I feel…better as hard as it is to believe.” Viserys spoke to you, giving you a smile. You found it hard to smile back. Finally Viserys addressed his family and you sat silently playing with the rings on your fingers. 

“Prayer before we begin?” You heard Queen Alicent ask and for a moment you wondered what their religion was. As she prayed you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. What was the mother, or the smith? It wasn’t funny but nonetheless a smile was on your lips. You looked across from you and saw Aegon pointing to his shoulders. You raised a brow unsure of what he meant. 

Once more he made the gesture with a questioning face and once you understood it, your face went hot. He was asking about your undergarments and where they were. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him and instead towards the end of the table where Jacaerys and his betrothed was. Once again, like before he was looking at you. He turned his eyes away quickly once more away from you. Then you looked over to the girl next to him. Despite the fact that Alicent had only just told you their names, you had already forgotten them. 

She looked at you with an almost questioning look. Perhaps it was the make-up. You don’t think they have ever seen modern make-up. You gave a small smile and she gave you one back. Then you looked towards the end of the table where the younger siblings of the two sat. The dark haired one looked towards you and unlike his older brother did not shy away when you met his gaze. You gave a smile and he returned it. Before you could get a better look towards the last one King Viserys spoke. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rheana further strengthening the relationship between the two houses—” As Viserys spoke it caused you to make an involuntary face. 

Their cousins!? That was madness to you!

Everyone heard a laugh and you controlled your facial expressions and you looked towards Aegon as he looked at you. He cleared his throat and said his apologies, though he looked at you and smiled and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you both looked towards each other. 

For the rest of the speech you both smiled towards each other as if you were both making fun of the King. Whilst you smiled towards Aegon you both were blissfully unaware of the looks everyone else gave, from Aemond and Otto, to Luke and Rhaena. 

Your attention was brought away from Aegon when the King stood up. As he spoke you looked from the corner of your eye to Aegon and he looked towards you. It seemed as if you were both speaking with your eyes. Your eyes shifted from Aegon to the King throughout his speech of family. You felt out of place and Aegon was the only one who seemed to respond when you looked towards him. 

But when Viserys took off his mask your appetite quickly left as it came. You rubbed your neck looking away from the King blinking towards Aemond who met your gaze but did nothing  but look back. It was almost as awkward as each time you tried to look towards Jacaerys, only this time Aemond’s gaze did intimate you. 

You looked away from him to down at the table then back up only to find that intense gaze still you. Once more you blinked and looked down before offering a weak smile, which was not reciprocated.

Finally you watched Viserys speak and you swore you saw small specks of spit fly out. It made sense the man had a hole in his face.

However, you were NOT catching leprosy besides, this was medieval food. You doubt you were missing much.

You leaned back in your chair. This was so not like the movies. Not to mention the whole incest stuff was just a little too much for you. Yes, you knew about cousins marrying each other but uncles and nieces!? Siblings!? You shook your head. As you looked up you saw Aegon watching you then look towards you drink. Looking around you saw others looking towards you expectantly. 

“Oh, sorry.” You took a small sip from the wine and found yourself smiling just a bit. It was good, well fermented. You observed the glass, it was quite nice. You found yourself looking at yourself in the reflection the wine offered and you drank some more feeling a warmth flood your face and ears and an involuntary smile grew on your face.

A loud sound startled you and caused you to flinch slightly. You looked up to see Jacaerys. He then looked over to you and once more he looked away. You raised a brow then you turned to watch Aemond stand. Then you saw Jacaerys lift his cup. Great. Another speech. How fun.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen eachother in years, I have fond memories of our shared youth…and as men I hope we may yet be friends and allies.” You don’t know why, but suddenly you began to giggle. 

You didn’t bother paying attention to the rest as you tried to stop the sudden laugh attack. Your shoulders shook as you held your face down and you felt eyes on you. 

You looked up to see the displeased look on Aegon’s face and Jacaerys grabbing his shoulders and you had to cover your mouth and you gave a slightly louder giggle. You breathed in deeply trying to calm yourself but the smile would not leave your face. 

“I’d like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon, it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Helaena spoke and though it was a sad statement you laughed and all eyes shifted to you. Helaena, the sweet thing laughed alongside you. You both laugh, grinning towards each other. 

“This wine is very good.” You giggled out. Soon the music started and you continued to drink. As the food was passed to you, you refused it. As the night progressed you watched Helaena and Jacaerys dance with each other and then your laughter suddenly died down. 

It reminded you of your own family dinners. What did your family think? You wondered when your funeral would be? It would only be logical that they assume you’re dead. In the hall where everything was bright, your face sat out of place and a sorrowful expression sat. 

“A dance my lady?” You looked up to see Aegon. 

“I don’t know how to dance the way y’all dance.” You spoke in low tones. 

“How do you dance to this music?” Aegon tried once more watching from the corner of his eye his wife and Jace dance. 

“Waltz maybe? I don’t know” You responded. 

“Teach me then.” Aegon takes your hands and pulls you from your seat. A smile from flattery comes on your face and you feel others watching as you walk past Helaena and Jace. Your face turns a shade of pink. 

“The best I have is from Cinderella.” You whisper as you take his arm and place him around your waist and you take his other hand holding it in your own as you step closer to each other. 

“I don’t know what Cinderella is, but if it means you’re this close to me, then I think I’ll like it.” Aegon teased. “So what now?” 

“Umm good question. Okay just follow my lead. Step backward with your right.” You told him looking down between the both of you. As he stepped backwards you stepped forward with your left foot. “Now backwards with your right foot.” You whispered and you followed his movements. “Okay to the left with your left foot next to your right foot.” He nodded and you followed after him. “Finally step forward with your right foot, moving it slightly in front of your left foot, those are all the moves then you just repeat.” After one or two mistakes both of you began dancing to the beat of the music avoiding Jace and Helaena. 

You smiled and giggled as you both danced. “We dance like this until the songs are over” Aegon asked as he pulled you closer to him and you shrugged. “I suppose we can spin.” You whispered and led him into dancing in a circle. You pulled his hand away from your waist and raised the hand you held to spin yourself then once more you both resumed dancing. 

“I thought you said you did not know how to dance?” He grinned and you shrugged. “Not to this music.” 

“Mayhaps you may show me your music one day.” He suggested and you both spun. 

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him. 

The room stood still as they watched you both dance, shades of dark greens spinning and seemingly gliding across the floor to the music. It was hard to look away, especially because it seemed so scandalous having a man and woman so close to each other. 

They watched as Aegon let go of your hand and lifted you up and spun you in the air before setting you down to dance once more. They all watched you both laugh as you both once more glided across the floor. However a fist hit the table abruptly stopping the music. You let go of Aegon and turned to Aemond. 

“Final tribute.” Aemond raised his glass and you looked towards Aegon confused. He shared your look. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise…strong.” 

There was an implication, though it was one you could not understand. You looked towards Aegon who had a large smile on his face. Clearly he understood the reference. He pulled you by the hand and took his cup and grabbed your own, filling it to the brim with wine for you. 

“Aemond.” Queen Alicent warned. 

You raised your cup alongside Aegon looking towards Luke though his eyes were only on Aemond. Then you looked back towards Jace who looked like he was seething, though he stood in a funny way that made you giggle a bit. 

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond finished. 

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace challenged. You were thoroughly confused. 

Was the word ‘strong’ an insult here? “Prince Aegon, is strong not a compliment here?” You whispered. 

He grinned and shook his head. “It is. My nephews are just…sensitive.” He whispered back. 

“Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think of yourself as strong?” Aemond finished and you watched as Jace walked to him and hit him. You gasped and then you were pulled back behind Aegon as he slammed Luke’s head onto the table. 

“Stop!” You yelled towards Aegon. Aegon seemed to be around your age while Luke looked to be thirteen. You tried to pull Aegon off pushing you back. As you were pushed back, so was Jacaerys. You both collided into each other while he took the brunt of the fall. 

He helped you up and went back to charge back but you held onto him. As you held him back, it was the first time you really got to look at him. At any other time he would look away. As you looked longer you noticed that he had very pretty eyes. A nice dark brown. “Stop.” You whispered out. 

“Are you going to hide behind a woman nephew?” Aemond remarked while giving a cruel smile. 

You saw Jacarey narrows his eyes and begins to push against you. “Are you gonna hide behind your words?” You glared back towards him. 

“This does not concern you.” You turned and looked up towards Daemon. He towered over you, and he still had his sword on him, you knew you got lucky last time. You doubt you will be so fortunate next time. You saw his hand coming towards your face and instinctively you stepped back away from Jacaerys. The stinging sensation his backhand gave you came back and your lip felt like it was pulsing. He gave you a cruel smirk enjoying your fear of him and he stepped closer and you stepped back. 

You wanted to look away from him, but you feared that if you did he would cut you down. It wasn’t until you bumped into something that you looked back and saw a glimpse of long white hair. However, as fast as you looked back, you looked towards Daemon again, though you weren’t fast enough to evade the hand that grabbed the bottom of your face, squeezing it so that it made the cut on your lip open again. 

You hissed out a cry as his thumb was putting pressure over the bruise he had caused earlier. You felt hands on your shoulders pulling you back away from Daemon’s grasp. Daemon scoffed before he wiped his hands on his pants, showing some of your foundation. You could only assume that some of your bruises were showing. 

“You look good green.” It was all Daemon said before you were ushered out by Aemond by command of Alicent. 

Note: Every time I try to go team black I somehow end up writing for green. Also, I think I would really die if I had no music.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[wosoamazing]

Periods

Summary: you get your third period and it’s bad but Lia and Leah take care of you.

Warnings: Bad period, vomit, hints at Leah’s endometriosis (but not actually mentioned)

A/N: I understand that Lia and Leah are not together, but this is purely fiction so…. Hope you like it, also as always requests are welcome, and I am working on the current requests I have.

“Hey Y/N/N, why aren’t you up yet? The girls are coming over soon.” Beth asked, you had stayed at Beth and Viv's for the night as Leah was going out with some friends and you didn't want to be left alone.

“My stomach hurts Beth, it’s like cramping,” she furrows her eyebrows and pulls back your covers, to see a red patch underneath you.

“Oh, I think you’ve got your period, don’t worry it’s okay, it happens to all of us, there are some products in the bottom draw of the bathroom, have a shower and I’ll change the sheets for you,” she left you in the spare room, you quickly grabbed some clothes for the day and made your way to the bathroom, passing Beth in the hall.

You spent quite some time in the shower the warm water felt really nice, once you got out you put a tampon in and a pad on, you didn’t want to leak, you have only had 2 previous periods, but hadn’t leaked onto the sheets even the first time you got one, so you were more concerned than usual, after getting dressed you headed downstairs.

You had barely made it down the stairs, each step was accompanied by a stab in your lower abdomen. With each step the number of tears leaking out of your eyes increased. You walked into the living room where you could hear voices coming from, as you rounded the corner Lia saw you and her face dropped. “Oh Bug, come here” she said as she gestured for you to come sit with her, she was sat in the corner seat of the couch with her legs crossed, Steph was sat next to her, normally you would’ve resisted her offer, you didn’t like to have to have people take care of you, but in this moment you just wanted comfort preferably from your sister but Lia was the next best thing, you had seen her take care of Leah many times and sometimes Leah even asked Lia for help, especially when she had her period, and she was very good at it. So, you went over at sat in her lap. You sat horizontally to her, leaning your side into her, and placing your head into the crook of her neck, you brought your knees up to your chest and curled yourself up in hopes of reducing the pain you were experiencing.

Shortly after Beth had entered the room, holding some pains meds and your Arsenal water bottle in one hand and a hot water bottle and some sick bags in the other, you were slightly confused as to why she had those but didn’t bother to question, the girls had dealt with Leah’s periods a few times so maybe they were preparing just encase. “Here,” you sat up slightly as Beth handed you the pains meds and water bottle, she placed the sick bags next to Lia. After you swallow the pain meds, she gave you the hot water bottle which you put on your stomach before collapsing back into Lia as you let out a whimper.

“Where is Le?”

“She’ll be here soon, was just picking some things up. It’s okay, I’m here for you, anything you need at all, I know they haven’t been this bad before, but its okay” Lia told you. She practically knew everything about you, she was essentially living in your house now so it was expected.

“Do you want something to eat?” Beth asked you, you shook your head.

“You should try and eat something Kleintje, what about just a piece of toast” Viv asked

You didn't nod but you didn't shake your head either, so Viv decided to go make you a piece of toast, she lightly buttered it for you and brought it back. You managed to get through half of it before you started to feel sick, you gave it back to Viv and tried to take your mind of the sick feeling, however it only increased, you were very similar to your sister when you were sick or in pain so Lia noticed almost immediately, she got herself prepared with a sick bag trying to be as discrete as possible. You released from your ball as you gagged, Lia held the sick bag for you, and Steph rubbed your back. Once you finished you leaned back into Lia as Viv took the bag from her and said, “I’m going to call Leah,” to which everyone nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, starting to cry, you try and burry yourself into Lia further, she pulls you closer and just wraps her arms around you once again, whispering “It’s okay Bug, we’ve got you” in your ear. You drift off to sleep, shortly after.

_____

You wake up in a different place, you were still lying on Lia, but in different surroundings much more familiar surrounds. You were in your own house, Lia was sitting on your couch. Lia had noticed your stir “Hey Bug, Leah is just having a quick shower, then she will be out, how are you feeling?”

“B-bad” you said as tears leaked out of your eyes.

Lia noticed you were trying to move “Where do you want to go?” “Toilet” “Okay, do you want help up?” you shake your head. You try and manoeuvre yourself out of Lia’s lap, however it was unsuccessful and your movement caused a wave of stabbing pains to course through your abdomen, your breath hitched, you felt sick, like you were going to be sick, but you couldn’t be. Lia had noticed this, the bathroom wasn’t an option, and with your pain so bad, she didn’t want to move at all, every time she breathed you whimpered ever so slightly so she knew moving to reach the bowl would be all too much, she was just glad her and Leah had the idea to put towels down on the couch. You gagged, cupping your hand to your mouth, not knowing what you were trying to achieve as there wasn’t really another option other than the one you really didn’t want to face

“It’s okay, just let it out, we can just clean it up” she said in a soft, kind and reassuring tone. You gaged again, the only difference was this time something came up, and it went on you and Lia, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m here” Lia said as she rubbed your back. “Oh Bug,” Leah said as she walked out just catching a glimpse of the end of the what had just unfolded, she quickly walked over and grabbed the bowl placing it front of you, you gag again and loose more of your stomach contents, thankfully this time none of it was going on you though, Lia rubbed your back while Leah spoke encouraging words in your ear. “I’m sorry” you said shaking once you were done.

“It’s okay Bug, come on let’s get you showered” she picked you up, and took you to the bathroom, once you had gotten all cleaned up and changed, Leah directed you to her room as she helped you walk, Lia was already there sitting on ‘her’ side of the bed, she had also gotten prepared, there was water, pain meds, hydrolyte, sick bags and cloths on either side of the bed. You got onto the bed and Leah followed, leaving you positioned in the middle of the two women. Lia handed you some pain meds and water which you took before curling up with the hot water bottle on your stomach. Leah was rubbing your back, hoping that eventually it might soothe you to sleep, but it didn’t, only your whimpers got worse. You let out a little cry as Leah repositioned herself on the bed, she positioned the pillows so that her upper body was just slightly propped up. “Bug, I’m going to try something, it might hurt at first, but it should help, okay?” You nod slightly, so she gently slides you so that you are resting on top of her, she pulled you up slightly too so that your head on her shoulder, the movement cause you to cry, “Oh Bug, I know I’m sorry, I love you” she kissed you on the temple before continuing “I’m going to place my hands on your stomach okay, I’ll start ever so gentle and then slowly and slightly increase the pressure, but if at anytime you want me to stop just tell me and I will,” you nod. She places her hands on your stomach just below your waistband, you can feel the warmth of her hands and your body relaxes slightly, and with that Leah starts to apply a small amount of pressure, you wince and reach out for Lia’s hand seeking comfort, she slides over from where she is on the bed to be right next to Leah, you felt her at Leah’s side and slightly moved your head, so it was resting on her shoulder. Having relaxed into the initial pressure Leah increased, you whined and tried to pull back, Leah immediately moved her hands away “Sorry Bug, do you want me to stop?” “No, it does help, but also hurts a little, but not too much, better than the other pain” “Okay, but again tell me to stop if you need” you nodded your head and she continued, she felt you relax completely when you eventually fell asleep, but she kept massaging for a few minutes just to be sure you were in a deep sleep, your hand loosened on Lia’s and that’s when she stopped knowing you were definitely asleep.

“You’re a really good sister to her you know that right?” “Yeah, I suppose, I really don’t want her to leave, but she needs to, she needs to keep developing and as much as it pains me to say it, she isn’t going to improve at arsenal, she has just been playing with us for too long now, she knows the ins and outs of us, and even every defender on other teams, she needs new competition, new play style. I just, I don’t, in a few weeks everything is going to be so different” Leah broke at the final sentence, Lia wrapped her arm around her and kissed her on the temple, before Leah rested her head in the crook of Lia’s neck, her tears slid down her face, making Lia’s neck wet as she tried to hide her emotions, this was the first time Leah had actually expressed how she felt about your move, Lia knew how she felt but Leah hadn't actually spoken to anyone about it yet. “You know its okay to cry right, you both have such a special bond, she has lived with you for the past 6 years and you lived with her for like the first 8 years of here life-” “something like that yeah” “I know it will be different, I’ll miss her too, I spend so much time with her and I basically live here now, it’s like she is my little sister. But we have each other we will get through this together okay, I love you so much Le” “I love you too Wally, and if it helps, she definitely thinks of you as a big sister, I don’t think she would’ve let any of the other girls look after her today the way she let you do willingly, and did you see her reach for your hand and relax slightly when you came closer, she loves you too Wally, and also thank you so much for taking such amazing care of her today, while I wasn’t there. Sorry you got sick on you”.

Lia made a gross face at the reminder of that “I don’t think I would willingly let anyone other than my two Williamson’s vomit on me, ever. I just feel so bad for her, do you think we should take her to the doctor? Like I know with you and all there are the chances and stuff but what if something is wrong.”

“Oh don’t worry Mum has her booked in for an ultrasound already, somehow she managed to get one for tomorrow which in hindsight isn’t going to be fun to get her to but oh well” your sister looked down to your face a small frown was appearing she moved one of her hands back onto your stomach and the frown slightly lessened, she lightly started massaging again and the frown disappeared, so she kept going, hoping that you could sleep, as clearly even in your sleep you were in pain. “I do hope though that this is just a one off, I don’t want her to have to go through it, deal with this or worse every month.”

“I know, I hope so too, but we will be here for her and Lucy and Kie will look after her, and the girls at Barca, they all seem lovely”

“Yeah, it, just, I don’t know,” Leah sighed, they laid in silence for a bit before Lia spoke.

“Babe, I might try and sleep, if that’s okay, because it’s not like we are going anywhere soon and I’m slightly exhausted, after last night and then today”.

“Yeah, I might sleep too, love you,” they kissed briefly before Leah placed her head in the crook of Lia’s neck again and Lia rested her head on hers.

____

“Oh, Cait, I found them, shhh” Katie said, Caitlin came in and took a picture, Leah and Lia held hands over you, as you hand your hand was still placed in Lia’s and Leah’s other arm was wrapped around you.

“They are so cute, let’s just leave them be, leave the stuff on the bench I’ll send them a message”.

____

Leah woke up first and grabbed her phone, seeing a message from Caitlin.

Caitlin: We came to drop of a few things, you didn’t answer so we let ourselves in, we found all 3 of you asleep, so let you be, the items are just on the bench.

Caitlin: *sent a photo*

Leah: Thank you so much, and could you not tell people straight away….. I mean I know the team probably assumes but we haven’t told Bug yet, were going to tell her today but…

Caitlin: Yeah sure, hope she feels better.

____

You blinked your eyes open, and Leah looked down at you, “Feeling better Bug?”

“A little I guess,” you paused for a little moment, “Le?” “Yeah Bug,” “Are you and Lia together?” “Well Bug, in a way I suppose yes, we were going to ask you if you were okay with us being together today, but we decided not too because you weren’t well”.

“Okay, I don’t mind, can Lia move in now? Well like does it mean she will move in?”

“If you’re okay with that bug.”

“I would like that, I love Lia, she is really nice and fun, and she takes care of me and doesn’t complain when I throw up on her, and she makes you happy, and she is always the first one to check you’re okay and she really cares for you and helps you, even when you push her away. Don’t mess this one up Le, but maybe before she moves in just check, she wants kids…. And maybe marriage.”

“I’m glad you like her bug, because I do really like her, and I promise I wont mess this one up.” “I’m just going to go to the toilet” you say as you get up and head for the toilet shutting the door.

“Having little mini me’s wandering around the house one day could be cute, and I reckon she would make a great wedding planner, that way she wouldn't have to choose between us, for bride's maid”

“You were awake? You heard all that?” Lia nodded and smiled, which caused Leah to smirk before they kissed.

[amor-ad-nauseam]

Somethin’ Stupid (pt. 2)

Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x reader

Summary :You two are pathetic for each other, so much so that Dean can’t help but take notice. Maybe, just maybe his “playing wingman” will work out alright…

Word count : 3.5k

Tags: Reader and Sam have a crush on each other, fluff, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, carheartt!sam, heavy make out, kissing, fade to black, almost smut.

Notes; While this does read as a fade to black i may or may not have gotten a little carried away with myself and wrote part of the smut scene… it’s not included here but if y’all want that lmk!! I am so sorry about how late this is coming out! i’ve been very busy with back to school preparations. Notes and reposts are greatly appreciated

part 1 part 3

“Rise n’ shine, Sammy!” Dean announced, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

Sam flinches awake and like a row of dominos, the guitar that was in his lap is sent tumbling to the floor - creating a harsh cacophony of strings and wood.

The sound causes you to jolt from your slumber. You shoot up in bed in a flurry of confusion. “I’m up! I’m up! Where’s the Rugaru!?” You shout, whipping your head around the room.

“Woah, Good Morning to you too,” Dean chuckles, punctuating the sentence with an obnoxious bite of beef jerky. Sam makes a face. “Want some?” He points the jerky at Sam.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs his hands down his face. "I’m good, thanks.”

You visibly relax as the real world comes into focus. “Morning, Boys.” You say as the adrenaline wears off. Sam was still across from you, now flashing an apologetic smile and Dean was well- Dean, but in a cowboy hat. That wasn’t too unusual for him. Dean nodded a hello.

“Eh, more for me,” Dean shrugs with another bite. “Anywho,” He bends down and retrieves the guitar from the floor, now with a newly popped high E string. He hoped the motel wouldn’t charge him extra for that. “When’d you become Springsteen?” He smirks.

Sam was in no mood.

Then, his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Dean, what’s that, uh, mark on your neck?” Sam said, a grin only capable of being mustered by the most annoying of little brothers appearing on his lips.

“What mar- “Dean slid his hand down the length of his neck, stopping about halfway in sudden realization. “Oh- “He clears his throat. Mumbling something about getting banged up pretty badly, he dismisses himself to the med kit in Sam’s bag.

“Oh, and that explains why you’re just now getting back at, uh,” Sam glances to the alarm clock. “7am? from a simple salt-n-burn?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean scoffs defensively. “Cause you see, Sammy, I was actually doing my job.”

The early morning sun filtered in through the blinds and for the first time you realized that the wood paneling on the divider and both doors were made to look like a saloon door. Damn. They went all out with this whole cowboy theme. On the bright side, the sun gave everything a warm almost fiery glow. Despite the rather cozy atmosphere of the room, Sam and Dean were still going.

Only two things in life are certain: taxes and the Winchester’s arguments.

“The job that requires you to receive hickeys from girls in bars?” Sam laughed. He was now stood by the foot of your bed, stretching the tension from his shoulders. Man, even through a t-shirt his back muscles were attractive- carved like a Greek statue.

“Okay, when you say it like that it makes me sound like a hooker.”

“Maybe you are, Mr. hard worker.”

“Don’t objectify me.” Dean rolls his eyes, feigning offense . Dean was leaned over the dresser, looking in the mirror as he tried to cover a small purple mark on his neck with a square gauze patch.

He definitely wasn’t winning this one.

As if suddenly remembering something, his head perked up and he set his sights on you.

“How’s the leg?” He asked, looking at you in the mirror. He did genuinely care about your wellbeing, but it didn’t hurt that you were also a good out.

“Hm?” You were a little distracted; you’d almost forgotten about your leg entirely.

“Oh right. It’s fine really,” you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

When you look down you find the bandage that was once around your thigh, half undone, twisted about and just an overall mess.

“Right, fine.” Dean chuckles.

“Woah, you okay?” Sam questions.

Before you know it, Sam’s closing the distance between the two of you and the roll of gauze is sailing through the air from Dean’s palm to Sam’s.

“Damn, I thought you were better at the whole first-aid thing, Sammy.” Dean remarks, happy to flip the situation back on his brother.

“I am,” Sam takes a seat next to you. He’s warm. And close. Too close. “But someone.” Damn he smells good too. Like a brand-new book. “Wouldn’t let me.” He said with a teasing expression.

“Hey, I didn’t do too bad.” Your cheeks flush.

“Riiight.” He gently tugs at an end of the bandage, and it unravels like a loose thread in a pair of jeans. “Not too bad at all.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You reply, your face contorting to an attempt at annoyance.

“Hey, cheer up.” Sam smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile in return.

He gently slid his hand to the underside of your knee and placed your leg over his lap just as he did the night prior.

While you were busy tossing the wrinkled bandage into a small barrel-shaped trashcan near the sofa-chair, Sam took the opportunity to let his gaze linger. He drank in every detail of your appearance, hoping to seer it to memory.

For some reason, 3 things in particular stuck out to him: You never bothered to put your hair up last night, the way squinted as the sun reflected directly into your eyes, and the fact that you were still in his Carhartt. That last one especially made his heart beat a little harder.

Your lovely chaotic hair and the sun shining on your face inspired countless fantasies. Some as simple as kissing the tiredness from your expression, others, he felt bad for even thinking.

The minute you turn around his eyes are once again glued to your leg and you’re none the wiser.

“How’m I lookin, doc?”

Dean with his shirt tucked beneath his chin was rubbing ointment on what he wasn’t quite sure if it was another hickey on his abdomen or an actual bruise. Upon hearing your question he perks up, ready to make a dumb Looney Toons reference when Sam of all people beats him to the punch.

“Ah, just peachy, Bugs.” He replied in a nasally imitation of Daffy Duck.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles with some small shock. He watches the two of you from the mirror's reflection. He knew Sam had a thing for you, but this, this was something else.

The way the two of you giggled and just almost leaned into each other with every joke- pulling away in shy stupidity each time you got too close. The lingering eye contact, how Sam’s hand looked almost reluctant to leave you, the way one of you would stare when the other wasn’t looking. The whole thing left his stomach feeling like a pot of warm honey.

Damn. You’ve both got it bad.

An idea.

“Hey guys,” He chimed in.

“Hm?” You and Sam said in unison.

“Oh, sorry no you go- “you said.

“No, it’s okay you- “

“Well, you did fix me up it’s only fair- “just then you realized that your leg was still in his lap. You quickly pull away and smile apologetically. Sam does the same.

Dean just about face palms. You two are hopeless.

“Guys.” Dean clears his throat, capturing both of your attentions once more.

“I'm gonna go out and uh, do something.” Dean said with heavy emphasis on “do something.”

“Oh, okay..?” you said with confusion

“Oh, uh, need help with that?” Sam added, eaqually as confused.

“No! no, sorry…heh… I just mean that you both should stay here while I go make a move.”

“You… feelin’ alright, Dean?” You question.

“He’s still hungover I think.” Sam leans in and mutters.

“Y’know,” Dean turns his attention straight to Sam. “Making a move is always the right thing.”

“…So, you do want my help?”

“No, damnit,” Dean sighs in defeat. “M’goin’ on a coffee run.”

“Oh… okay…” Sam replied. “In that case, make two of ‘em decaf.”

“Aw you remembered?” You say with an expression reminiscent of a teen girl with a crush.

“Yeah, I know how it makes you jittery.” Sam replied, sounding embarrassed.

Dean watches as the two of you sit there smiling like idiots.

Yeah.

Extra hopeless.

- -

The latter half of the day is spent with Dean acting strangely and you and Sam struggling to figure out why.

A couple of theories arose.

“Maybe he is hungover.” You quietly conceded after Dean stretched his legs across the diner’s booth seat when Sam tried to sit down- forcing him next to you.

“Nah, he’s mean when hungover.” Sam replied.

- -

“Maybe we did something?” You suggested when Dean pulled the same diner stunt later at the library.

“Like what?” Sam replied as he studied Deans relaxed demeanor.

“Dunno. Maybe it’s 'cause we bailed last night?”

“C’mon we didn’t “bail”, you got stabbed and we all know if one of us didn’t stay with you, you’d come crawling back to finish the fight.”

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Me too. Just can’t figure out what would make him not tell us details on a case, it’s not like him.”

- -

You also happened to notice that Sam grew increasingly grumpy as the day dragged on.

Whether that was due to Dean, or his uncomfortable sleeping situation last night was lost on you.

- -

“Maybe he got roofied?” Sam mumbled when it seemed as though Dean couldn’t walk in a straight line- continually bumping into you - shoving you straight into Sam.

“Can’t be, after that whole witch thing he’s really careful with his drinks.”

“Hm…”

- -

“Mid life crisis?” Sam proposes in a hushed voice from the huddled corner of a motel lobby.

Dean had bought two rooms instead of the usual one accompanied by “we’re livin’ offa credit card scams and prayers. Besides, we’ve all pretty much seen eachother’s junk anyway.”

“He’s 30” you replied while watching Dean flirt with the woman behind the counter.

“With this job and his liver, it’s midlife.”

- -

Finally, the night had rolled around.

“Been dazed and confused for so long it can’t be true~”

The radio humming as the Impala raced down the road.

Normally, nights like this would be relaxing. Windows rolled down, the sounds of the cold and buzzing night mixed with the same five albums Dean rotated. Empty back roads and the three of you endearingly out of tune as you sang along.

But this night was simply and plainly, dead.

The air in the car had a tension not even Page and Plant could cut through. You all silently sat in your unassigned-assigned seats: Dean driving, Sam shot gun and you in the back watching the night woosh by.

It all came to a head earlier when Dean notified you and Sam that you two were on stake-out duty. You watched as Sam’s expression visibly changed into one of suppressed nausea. Sure, stakeouts usually sucked ass but did the thought of being alone with you really drive him to the point of sickness?

You breathed a sigh, sinking further into your seat at the memory.

Sam steals a glance at you in the rear view- you looked sad. Guess you weren’t too excited at the thought of a stakeout either.

The car stops about 50 yards in the underbrush in front of a dilapidated old building in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

The light previously provided to you by the stars was dimmer now due to the thick miles of pine trees stretching high above- looking as though they could touch the sky themselves.

“Aaand we’re here,” Dean said, switching off the ignition

“Mind telling us where “here” is exactly?” Sam quipped.

“Like I said, it’s a nest.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem. That’s about the only thing you’ve said.”

“Okay, fine- look, We’ve had a lot of duds lately and I didn’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up if it wasn’t the real deal.” Dean shrugs.

Dean was an incredibly good liar. Or as he liked to call it, thinking on his feet.

“Wow you are s- “

“Such a great older brother, I know. I’m gonna go walk the perimeter, shouldn’t take too lo-“

“Great I’ll come with!”

You watch as Sam quickly follows after Dean- not even letting his brother get the words out before he’s on his feet and out of the car like he’ll catch the plague if he’s alone with you.

Yeah. Stakeouts really sucked.

From inside the car all you could hear were Sam and Deans muffled voices, but even still, you could tell they were arguing…

“I’m not an idiot, Dean. I know what you’re doing.”

“Well I’d hope so,” Dean chuckled, holding his newly sharpened machete upward to inspect it. “Dad’d kill us if we ever even thought about going in dull and halfcocked.”

“Y’know you’re not the most subtle guy in the world.”

Sufficiently satisfied, Dean re-sheathes the blade and hooks it onto his waistband. “Dunno wacha talkin’ ‘bout, Sammy.”

“You forced me to sit next to her.”

“Leg got bruised las night, had to keep ‘er elevated.”

“Got two rooms?” Sam quirked a brow.

“So? What if i wanted to bring someone back?”

“Dude, you practically threw her into me.”

“Again, the leg. Can’t walk straight.” He shrugs, grabbing a vial of dead-man’s blood and putting it into his pocket.

“Alright, cut the bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s not into me and i’m-“

“A dumbass.” Dean says sharply.

“E-excuse me?” Sam says, caught off guard.

“The girl is head-over-fuckin-heels for you. you must be a dumbass not to see it.” Dean points an accusing finger at him.

“I-“

“I see the way you look at her, hell, you busted out the guitar for her! ah- don’t give me that look, it was obvious. “

“Okay, fine, you got me Dean.” Sam throws his arms up in an exasperated manner. “I have feelings for her.” He pauses. This is the first time he’s said it aloud. His eyes go to his shoes. “Doesn’t mean she feels the same way.”

“Christ.” Dean slams the trunk, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks around the side of the car. Sam gives a puzzled expression. Dean jerks his head. “Watch this,” Dean says.

With the back of his hooked middle and index finger, Dean knocks on the back window of the Impala.

“Hm?” You lift your head from the book in your lap.

It’s a quick set of movements, but obvious, unthought action: your eyes first land on the source of the sound, Dean. He waves. You smile.

Then, all in the fraction of a second you look at Sam. Your smile falters. A short, flustered breath escapes your nose.

Your eyes go back to Dean, your lips curving into a poor attempt at a casual smile.

“See?” Dean says once you turn your attention back to your book.

“See what?” Sam replies, his voice growing annoyed and incredulous- having not picked up on anything out of the ordinary.

“You really make me wanna punch you sometimes.”

“Wha-, you know what, Dean, is this case even real? Cause if it’s not let’s just go back to the motel and-“

“Okay, Okay.” Dean pushes his arms in a ‘calm down’ motion. “It’s real, Columbo. Here,” He reaches behind his back, past the sides of his coat and pulls the local newspaper from the waistband of his jeans. “Happy now?”

Sam’s eyes skim the headline: Reports of “Cult like behavior” spotted near the old McCrowe house.

Below is a photograph of the dilapidated home they were parked in front of.

“Yes, but, h-“

“How do you know it’s real? Ya don’t. But i know you couldn’t take the risk; Even if you tried.”

Sam frowns, combing a hand through his hair. Dean smiles. “Go get ‘em, tiger” Dean says, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"You're an asshole."

Dean walks away with an extra bounce in his step. Sam frowns, again.

After taking a long moment, partially to regain his bearings, partially waiting till his brother disappeared around the bend, Sam pulls open the door.

“…Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

That wasn’t awkward at all.

Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the book carried at your side rhythmically beats against your hip as you walk.

“So… figure out what’s up with Dean?”

“Oh, uhm,” He tosses the newspaper onto the dash as he slides into the front seat to cover his hesitation. “Nope. Not a clue.”

“Eh, I just hope he sorts himself out. If he keeps walking like that i think i’ll be bruised soon.” You chuckle at your own joke. “Guy’s got hips like Shakira, they do not lie.”

Crickets. Literal crickets fill the beat of silence after that joke.

You knew it was bad but damn.

“Ookay… tough crowd,” You mumble.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Sam said as if he were snapping out of a trance. “yeah heh, Shakira.”

You simply resign yourself to the book in your lap, every once in a while, taking a glance at the house ahead.

Meanwhile, Sam’s gaze never leaves the house for a moment. He had an expression you couldn’t quite place and an almost glazed over look in his eyes.

“Hey, i’m gonna go catch up with Dean, you’ll be fine right?” He says suddenly.

“No,” You slam your book shut and turn straight to Sam. “Sit your ass back down. we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry?”

The words come barreling from your mouth like a falling knife, sharp and unpredictable. “You have been super weird all day- I swear it’s hereditary- Dean acting strange, that i can deal with, but you? i-i don’t know what to do with that.”

A sinking sort of realization sets in. “I- god i’m so sorry.”

“I mean, did i do something? ‘Cause if i did i’m terribly sorry-“

“No, no, you didn’t do anything i swear.”

“Then what is it? i thought things were good and then- Look, if there’s something wrong just say the word and i’m there.”

“i know that but-“

“I’ll listen if you need it, i’m your friend and i wanna help.”

“That’s the problem.”

A beat of silence.

“That you’re my friend, just, my friend. That’s what’s wrong."

You feel your mouth going dry.

The words come tumbling out of Sam’s mouth much faster than he can think. “I-I knew from the moment i met you that you were this super cool and sweet and pretty but also badass at the same time kinda person and then it sorta spiraled into a crush, -which was innocent enough- so i thought it’d go away but then it didn’t and then-“

Every word, every thought, every action, everything within Sam is cut short and fades off when your lips collide with his. Your hands cup the sides of his face. His eyes widen before slowly dropping shut.

A moment later the kiss breaks and you’re sat there, staring dumbly into those gorgeous hazel eyes. From this new vantage point (the middle of the front seat) the gaps between the pines overhead is greater, allowing for starlight to filter in. The parts of his face not obscured by the shadows of his hair were illuminated in perfect detail. The soft edges of his face look almost sharp given the looming shadows, that detail though, is contrasted by the rosy blush spreading on his cheeks.

“…I wanted to shut you up,” You blink. “But I should’ve asked, i’m sor-“

The last of your attempt to apologize is muffled as Sam’s lips crash into yours.

His hand rests on the far side of your neck, his thumb moving across your cheek. The kiss grows in intensity, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, your breath short and hot on his face. You drop your hands from his jaw and begin to slide them down his torso, eliciting a low growl-like sound from him. You both grow in fervor, the kiss bordering the fine line between sweet and desperate.

His tongue pushes past your lips and begins exploring you with warm desire. A soft sound escapes your throat at the feeling, his body growing warm, breaths shaky, and his tongue needly licking at the inside of your mouth.

Sam pulls away but only for a moment. He takes a quick survey of your face: lips red, breathing coming out in short pants, hair messy and all of you elucidated by the stars outside. You were no longer a reverie- some fantasy far out of reach. You were right there, lovely and more attention capturing than any star. So he says the thought that’s been on repeat in his mind since the moment he met you. What he’s thought on a thousand breathless afternoons when the sun shines just right on your face: “I love you”

“I love you too.” You reply without missing a single beat. you don’t have to think about it, not even for a second. You love him.

Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillies444lola @wowzabowza69 comment to be added/ removed

[ikkyfics]

Dave Lizewski taking care of sick reader? 🤭

With You

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: “You’re good at this, you know?” “Good at what?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Taking care of me. Being sweet.”

Warnings: none - just fluffy

A/N: this is my FIRST request from Dave, so yeah, maybe I'm a little emotional - anon, hope you enjoy reading <333

Masterlist

Dave found the day strangely quiet without you. He couldn’t tell what was worse: the growing worry ever since you stopped replying to his messages or the odd silence from the other side of the door when he knocked for the third time. The phone was still open to the last message you had sent earlier: “Allergic reaction hit, I’m wiped out. I’m going to sleep, love you <333.” But since then, absolute silence.

“Please, let her just be passed out from sleep…” He muttered to himself as he finally heard a sound coming from inside.

The door opened slowly, creaking with that dramatic sound that he would have found funny under any other circumstances. And then he saw you: standing, with a limp posture and a lost look, as if you had just snapped out of a trance. Your hair was all messy, your eyes swollen, and your nose slightly red, making you look even more adorable despite the clearly exhausted expression.

“Dave…?” your voice came out in a dragged murmur, your mouth opening into a silly smile that brightened your tired face a little.

You looked relieved, even though you were holding onto the doorknob to avoid toppling over. The allergy meds had clearly left you out of it.

Dave furrowed his brow, stepping forward quickly. The stuffed bear he was holding wobbled awkwardly.

“My God, look at you! You’re all…” He stopped, as if searching for the right word, but gave up. “…limp. You’re super limp. And not in a good way.”

You let out a hoarse little laugh, the sound too light for his liking.

“I am limp. The meds are strong, Dave…” you tried to point at him, as if revealing some secret, but the movement was so slow it looked like it was in slow motion.

He didn’t hesitate anymore; he kicked the door open with his foot, entering as if the house was his. With the other hand, he dropped his bag full of junk onto the living room floor before looking at you again. Dave looked like the very definition of a worried boyfriend, staring at you with wide eyes and a distressed expression.

“Okay, you shouldn’t be standing. You know what? Come here.”

“What? Dave, I’m—”

Before you could protest, he stepped closer and, with careful movement, slid one arm firmly under your knees and the other across your back, lifting you off the floor with ease. You let out a surprised sound, almost a squeak.

“Dave!”

“What? You clearly can’t walk on your own. Don’t complain, you like being pampered.” He said with a little smile, but his eyes still held that worried gleam.

Your body went limp against his, tired from the meds and sleep. The warmth from him and the comfortable smell of his sweatshirt (some mix of fabric softener and his perfume) were practically an invitation to close your eyes and rest. But instead, you glanced at his arm, your brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

“You… working out?”

Dave, who had been focused on getting you to the couch with the utmost gentleness, almost tripped over his own leg. He looked at you, his cheeks starting to redden.

“Huh?”

“Your arms…” Your voice sounded a little drunk from the exhaustion and meds, and you let your hand rest on his bicep, lightly feeling it as if it was an important discovery, “…they’re so strong.”

His face instantly turned bright red. Dave tried to keep his composure, but a nervous laugh escaped, his voice a little high from surprise.

“You’re saying I’m strong? Holy crap, write this down, ‘cause I’m gonna remember it.”

“Hmm, working out secretly…” you murmured, your eyes almost closing from sleep while your hand stayed resting on his arm. “My boyfriend turned into Hercules…”

“Okay, no more delirium. That’s the meds talking, not you.” He chuckled softly, finally reaching the couch and placing you down with such care, as if you were made of glass.

You sank into the cushions, letting out a sigh of relief. Dave knelt in front of you, his eyes scanning your face as if looking for any sign of deterioration. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.

“Seriously, you really worried me. Don’t disappear like that again, okay? I almost lost it.”

You blinked slowly, your voice coming out quieter now.

“Sorry. I just… passed out. Allergy meds are my kryptonite.”

He nodded, still with that tense, worried look on his face. His hands rested on your knees, warming your skin through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.”

The simple phrase made your chest warm in a way that had nothing to do with the allergy or the meds. Dave stayed close enough for you to feel his breath, his soft, tender blue eyes watching you. That look of his, full of affection, made you forget any discomfort or unease.

You smiled, your head leaning slightly against the back of the couch.

“You’re good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Taking care of me. Being sweet.”

His smile widened, even though he tried to seem nonchalant.

“It’s because I’m the best boyfriend in the world. This is just the basics, babe.”

Before you could reply, he started adjusting all the “tools of war” — as he called the bag full of tissues, medicine, and the teddy bear. Slowly, you started to close your eyes on the couch. He turned just in time to see your head tilt, your face still tired but relaxed. For a moment, he hesitated to make any noise, almost as if he was standing next to one of those cartoon bombs that exploded at the slightest sound. But then you let out a soft groan, your unfocused gaze opening again.

“Why are you standing there… looking at me?” Your voice came out slow and soft, a silly smile playing at the corner of your lips.

Dave chuckled softly, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re going to sleep or pass out. There’s a difference, you know?”

You let out something like a laugh, but quickly coughed lightly after. He frowned immediately, his worried look back in full force.

“Okay, that’s enough. You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

The truth hit you like an uncomfortable reminder, but you didn’t have time to respond before he was already in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. The noise echoed through the house, much louder than usual, and you slowly turned your head to follow the chaos happening in front of you.

“Dave…” you called softly.

“Stay there and relax. I’m making something nutritious for you.”

The dramatic tchan-tchan-tchan sound of the fridge opening made you bite your lip to keep from laughing. He looked so determined, as if he was about to save the world instead of, probably, causing a disaster. You let your head fall back onto the pillow, watching the show.

In the first few minutes, Dave seemed pretty confident. He even hummed something softly as he put a pot on the stove. But then came the sound of something popping too loudly — followed by a muffled curse.

“Everything okay over there…?” you asked, lifting your neck to peek into the kitchen.

“All under control! Just… Just didn’t know rice could stick so fast.”

“Dave…”

“I told you, it’s all under control!”

The smoke began rising slowly, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from laughing as he ran to the sink, holding the pot like it was a ticking time bomb. The sound of water hitting the hot metal was followed by another worrying sizzle, and he jumped back.

“Okay! No rice. Nobody needs rice.”

“Give it up, I’m not even hungry…”

“No way!” He shouted back, regaining his composure. “Cooking is overrated anyway. Want to know what? Chicken broth counts as soup. You’re drinking this, and you won’t complain.”

He raised the chicken broth box as if it was the definitive solution to all the world’s problems. You laughed again, feeling your cheeks burn from the effort.

“My hero…” you murmured, letting the laughter die down as another yawn took over.

Dave sat down beside you on the couch, placing the steaming bowl on the coffee table, his expression still stubborn but his eyes soft as they watched you closely. He reached out to brush another strand of hair from your face, letting his fingers rest there for a moment near your cheek.

“I tried, okay? I swear I tried.”

“I know.”

The warmth of his hand was comforting, as was the feeling of knowing he was there, trying — even if clumsily — to take care of you.

And the broth wasn’t that bad, I mean, it was a little bland, but it was drinkable — a few spoonfuls.

You let out a light sound, closing your eyes and letting your head fall against his shoulder. Dave relaxed, slowly wrapping an arm around your back to pull you closer.

“It’s okay. I like your disaster.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I like you too, even doped up and laughing at me.”

“I’m having fun…”

“And I’m happy you’re laughing.”

The silence came gradually, comfortable and warm. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breath next to you, his arm still firmly holding you close. You were fine. Because he was there.

The comfortable silence of the couch was only interrupted by the soft sound of the TV, where some random movie — hastily chosen by Dave — played without much importance. He had insisted on putting on some light comedy, arguing that “this always helps when people are sick.” You, still a little doped up and sleepy, didn’t have the strength to question it. Now, sitting next to him, your head resting on his shoulder and your legs stretched out across the couch, you felt completely at ease.

Dave looked at the screen every now and then, but the truth was, he spent much more time looking at you. Your lips slightly parted, your nose a little red from exhaustion, and the way you breathed slowly, almost in sync with the ambient music of the movie… He couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you comfortable there?” he asked softly, even though you weren’t exactly awake enough to answer.

Your only reaction was to murmur something unintelligible, snuggling even closer against his shoulder. Dave swallowed hard, frozen, as if any movement might break the delicate moment. Gently, he stretched his arm around you, pulling one of the blankets he brought and draping it lightly over you.

“Done. Now you’re officially a human burrito. Best medicine there is.”

You responded with a muffled grunt, the words drawn out, barely audible:

“Mm… you talk a lot.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Sorry. I’ll let you sleep.”

For a few minutes, Dave made every possible effort to focus on the movie, trying to ignore the comfortable weight of your head on his shoulder and the soft sound of your breathing. But then, in the middle of the silence, you began murmuring again, your voice trembling and almost childlike.

“Dave… you’re so handsome…”

His eyes widened. He froze in place, his gaze shifting away from you as if the comment had hit him straight in the heart.

“What?”

“Your hair… so fluffy…” You murmured, your voice fading at the end of the sentence. Then came another silence, and he thought you had fallen asleep again. But then: “And your muscles… you’re strong, huh? I could lick your abs if I wasn’t like this, you know?”

Dave’s eyes widened even more, his face turning as red as a tomato.

“What? I— You would…” He whispered desperately, as if he could have a conversation with you in your lethargic state. But you just smiled sleepily, still with your eyes closed, your fingers awkwardly trailing up his arm, giving soft taps on his bicep.

“And that’s all mine…”

“My God…” He murmured to himself, completely stunned. The smile that escaped his lips was inevitable, small and affectionate, as he lowered his eyes to you with an almost silly look.

And then came the silence. This time, definitive. Your chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm, and Dave realized you had, in fact, fallen asleep. He stayed there for a moment, motionless, just absorbing the scene. The movie was still playing on the TV, but he could hear nothing but your peaceful breathing.

Carefully—very carefully—he took his arm from behind you, slowly getting up.

“Okay, time to take you to bed. Better than sleeping all crooked on the couch.”

You didn’t respond, obviously. But when he crouched down to lift you, the gesture was so gentle that you barely moved. Dave held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, one arm around your back, the other under your knees.

“My God, how do you manage to be both cute and heavy at the same time?” he murmured, as if you could answer.

You just snuggled further into his arms, resting your head on his chest. He smiled, feeling his heart beat fast under the weight of your presence.

When he reached your room, Dave kicked the door open with his foot and walked over to the bed, gently laying you down on the soft mattress. He bent down, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders and adjusting the pillow under your head. For a moment, he just stayed there, watching you sleep. Your relaxed face, your lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile.

“You don’t even know how beautiful you are, do you?” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

When he got up, turning to leave, you murmured again, your voice almost inaudible:

“Stay…”

Dave stopped mid-step, his heart leaping in his chest as he heard the word escape your lips in a trembling whisper. He turned slowly, unsure if he had heard it right. Your face was still buried in the pillow, but he could see the corner of your mouth forming a soft pout, your eyes half-closed as if you were making a monumental effort to fight off sleep.

“What?” he asked quietly, leaning forward.

“Stay…” you repeated, in a slightly whiny tone, your fingers clutching the blanket he had arranged over you.

Dave stood there for a second, completely unsure of what to do. His mind screamed that he should leave, let you rest, but… how could he? How could anyone resist you, with your drawn-out voice and eyes still shining even under the weight of the medication?

“Okay,” he finally answered with a sigh of surrender. “I’ll stay.”

He lay down beside you, settling on the bed and leaving some space between you, but soon you used the last of your strength to pull him closer, your hands softly clutching his shirt. He lay down with you, not resisting, and as soon as he was lying on his side, you curled up against him like a lazy cat, your head going straight to his chest.

“Mm… best pillow…” you murmured, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

Dave chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You’re completely drugged, you know? Tomorrow, you won’t remember any of this.”

“I will.”

“Aha.”

“I remember you’re cute. That you take care of me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he looked away to hide the goofy smile that grew on his lips. His fingers started to drum on his arm, as if they were thinking of something, until they gently went up, once again squeezing his bicep like before.

“Nice…” you commented again, now with a sleepy smile that made Dave snort with amusement.

“I think I should stop coming here when you’re sick. This antihistamine is messing with your brain.”

“No, it’s not,” you retorted, dragging the words out. Your eyes finally opened a bit more, meeting his. “I speak the truth. You’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

Dave turned red to the roots of his hair. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again like a fish out of water, until he managed to murmur:

“Do you say that because I’m taking care of you?”

“No.” You pulled the blanket with your hands, turning your face to the side as if pouting, but your soft voice still sounded like pure sweetness. “I say that because it’s true.”

Dave felt his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. Carefully, he adjusted himself in bed until he was lying next to you, finding the position that made you most comfortable. Your body automatically curled up against his, your head finding a perfect spot against his chest.

“Best pillow,” you murmured again, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll put this on my resume: ‘Boyfriend who doubles as a pillow.’”

The muffled laugh that escaped from you warmed his heart more than he expected. For a few seconds, the room was silent, except for the soft sound of your breathing and the calm beating of his heart. Then, with a slightly softer, almost shy voice, you murmured:

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dave.”

He looked down at you, where your face rested against his chest, your eyes almost closed again. One of his hands moved up, gently caressing your hair, his fingers running through the strands with absurd care.

“You don’t need to thank me, silly. It’s kind of my job, right? To be the best boyfriend in the world.”

You smiled, your eyes opening just enough to look at him.

“If I wasn’t sick, I’d die from kissing you so much right now.”

Dave let out a surprised laugh, his expression melting with both love and amusement at the same time. He tilted his head a little to look at you more clearly.

“Well, then you’d better get better soon. I’m counting on it.”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes again while snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll get better. For you.”

Dave felt his heart tighten in his chest once again, the goofy smile on his lips refusing to go away. He continued stroking your hair, his movements slow and careful, as if he wanted to make you fall asleep faster.

“If you keep saying these things, it’ll be you who kills me, you know? Because I won’t be able to handle it.”

“I’m just telling the truth…” you whispered, your voice already fading into sleep.

Dave stayed there for a while longer, listening to the soft sound of your breathing as he watched your relaxed face against his chest. He knew he’d have to leave at some point, but… not now. Not while you needed him.

And, if he were honest, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Sleep well, okay?” he murmured softly, pulling his arms around you gently. “I’m here.”

And, for the first time that afternoon, you fell into a deep sleep, knowing that he was really there.

[helluvapoison]

Hi I currently am very sick and can’t tf better and if your ok with it can you do a Vox x f reader like where the reader is coughing five seconds and she takes her meds and they don’t work. And he is flipping out and he just basically is overprotective over us and he think we’re basically glass. Sorry if your not taking requests at the time bye<3

• Physically, it’s impossible for Vox to get sick

• Besides he’s still possibly the cleanest man in Hell!

• There’s a cleanup crew at VoxTech that works tirelessly all hours of the day and night to keep up with the image he wants to project; brand new, fresh out of the box!

• So how you got sick in the first place is beyond him

• Insulted and angry doesn’t begin to cover how he feels

• At least three people get fired, one of them for simply being in the room when you first began to sneeze

• He blames Valentino. Certain trash that fucking moth drags around his studio is probably littered with diseases

• None of that matters when your coughing fits and sniffles don’t cease after a full day of medicating

• Sinners can’t die from being sick… can they?

• Vox takes your temperature every half hour, pacing the room while you rest and researching what more he can do

• Stocked to the brim with all different types of medical supplies, he might as well switch professions at this point

• There’s house calls from the best doctors money can buy, all rotating through the front door while Vox taps his foot on the other side of your bed. Looming over them with a glare as they tell them there’s nothing to do but wait, he growls, “Then why the fuck are you still here?”

• He’s one minor symptom away from hacking Belphegor’s phone

• “Vox, m’fine–”

• Your body says otherwise, threatening your lung’s safety by sending you into another coughing fit

• “This isn’t–!” Vox huffs harshly and lowers his voice to a whisper, “This isn’t fine, my dear. You should’ve recovered days ago.”

• Your eyes are already closing, heavy with exhaustion, “Drama queen. Jus’ wanna sleep.”

• Forcing himself to swallow his protests, he pulls the blankets under your chin before sitting on the edge of the bed

• He knows you hate when he does this so he waits for moments like this, when you’re deep into your sleeping state, to check your vitals entirely

• Occasionally, he’ll do it even when you’re not sick

• No changes. He frowns at the information he receives.

• “I need you to get better.” Vox tells no one in particular, staring at you like you won’t wake up and brushing a strand of hair from your face

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ oh you poor thing! i hope you feel better soon!

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[freakingholland]

"Sofa chronicles" - Jason Todd x gn!injured!reader

A/N: Hi babes, ummm hurt/comfort/fluff time am I right? *cricket sounds* I’ve been really struggling with inspo to write about my fav boys to be very very honest so please, show some love in my comments/asks, I wanna fangirl/boy/they with you all cutie pies

:(

Headcanons? Memes? Let’s talk! My asks are here.

Warnings: injuries, mentions of surgery, physical discomfort, negative remarks, use of pain killers, mentions of diabetes devices/supplies, suggestive implied dialogue (in a joking/pun form, NSFW) - (hurt/comfort + fluff)

Summary: After a patrol went south you are left with one working knee and a caring boyfriend at your side.

Word count: 820+

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

„Do you need anything else sweetheart?” Jay said squatting next to the sofa, his face plastered with genuine worry.

“Oww… Can I—can I take my meds now? Did you check the time?” You grimaced, trying to shift to a more comfortable position.

Jay quickly glanced at his watch, brows knitting together.

“Yup- you can. I’ll  go grab them.” He stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

“JUST DON’T GO ANYWHERE!” he shouted once he left the living room.

“Oh, you’re sooo funny Todd.” You responded, as your upper torso sank back into the warm pillow.

He walked back in with your pills in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

“Here.”

“Thanks babe.”

Jay placed his hand on the small of your back and started rubbing your back to try and comfort you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, appreciating the comfort of his touch.

“Jay…” you said, your voice a little hesitant.

 “I’m sorry, but can I ask you for one more thing?”

“’Course.” He straightened up, immediately attentive, his face softening.

“Ice bag?” you asked with pleading eyes.

“On it.”

“You’re the best,” you sighed, feeling both grateful and guilty for needing so much help.

Thanks to an unfortunate patrol the other week you were now stuck to your sofa with just half of working knees. One point for a hard landing, zero points for Y/N. Thankfully Jay was there to help you out after an ACL surgery.

“Here you go hun.”

You sighed in relief as the cold began to seep through, taking the edge off the ache in your knee. You finished your glass of water and handed it back to him. Jay placed it on the coffee table.

“Move your cute butt a bit.” He requested with a grin. You blink at him, too tired to figure out what he’s getting at.

“You can’t be serious…”

Jay snickered, shaking his head.

“Naah I’m kidding, don’t move.” Jay bent a little to plant a kiss on top of your head before he sat beside you. He chuckled slightly as he noticed the way you rolled your eyes at his remark.

With him sitting next to you, he gently tuged the blanket up to make sure you're cozy. Jay glanced at your exposed leg, his fingers lightly tapping on your hand. That was his usual way of asking to be held.

Your fingers intertwined with his, his rough palm grazing against yours. Your head fell to the side, leaning on Jay’s shoulder. His hair was still damp after a shower. The scent of his cosmetics mixed with his natural smell brought you much needed comfort.

Suddenly you straightened up, when you noticed your sleeve getting wet.

You glanced down at your arm and moved your gaze toowards Jay's. His dexcom sticker got wet and started leaking drops of water.

“You’re making me- wet babe.”  you murmured, nudging him slightly.

Jay blinked all puzzled, then looked down at his arm and snorted.

“Oh—am I?”

“-- my bad pumpkin.” He apologized with a grin.

“Guess I didn’t dry it off.” Jay continued.

He playfully wiped your arm, not making it any less wet, earning a chuckle from you.

“No need to apologize, it’s not like I can be mad at my personal nurse.”

“Yeeaah you’re kinda right. What would you do without me, huh?” He leaned back, crossing his muscular arms.

“Not much, that’s for sure.”

Jay’s phone buzzed.

“Bruce?” you asked.

“Mr. Richard.”

“He’s asking if you’re still alive.”

“Sadly… wait what?”

“Wait what?” He furrowed his brow at your negative comment.

He placed his free hand on your uninjured thigh as he was responding to the message.

“Feelin’ any better?” His warm hand was sliding up and down your leg, as he was trying to comfort you.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good.” He tossed his phone to the side.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked moving to the edge of your sofa. You grabbed him by his t-shirt, tugging him back towards you.

“No, no thank you. Please sit down for a bit. Do you feel like watching a movie or something?”

“Would love to, any ideas?” He took the remote and started looking through the channels.

“What about this?” he asked, motioning towards the TV.

“Perfect.” You sighed contentedly, leaning into him, your head resting against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you. His fingers started tracing gentle circles on your arm.

“Thanks for taking care of me-- I know I’m not the easiest patient.” You whispered weakly, looking up at him.

“You’re not so bad.” he said teasingly. You playfully punched his side.

“I might have to start charging you for my nursing services,” Jay chuckled, his arm tightening around your shoulders, carefully pulling you even closer to him.

“I know you love taking care of me, you’re a bad liar Jay.”

“I do, I do… now gimme a kiss.”

You happily complied.

[whumpfish]

Reference: Psychogenic Fever

You've seen it in anime loads of times: the protagonist overexerts themselves or experiences a highly stressful event, and they dramatically collapse. The next thing you know, they're in bed with a cloth over their forehead and an ally informs the rest of us that they have a fever.

Well, it turns out that can actually happen.

If your immune system is already shot, and you experience acute levels of stress, your body will respond to those stress hormones the way it would normally respond to a virus. Your core heats up, and you develop a full-blown fever.

According to what information I was able to dig up, some patients can develop core temperatures of 41°C/105°F. I didn't apparently record mine when this was going on, but given the temperature dysregulation caused by the seroquel I take that prevents me from cooling off if I get hot and the reverse, and how hot literally anything I touched got, I was probably in that higher range.

The Progression:

I went to bed at around 1:45 a.m. I'd already been through so much stress with my grandfather's funeral, how my dad elected to process grief, and scrambling to get the SSI-D function report that had arrived in our mailbox when I was out of town returned on time, I had already crashed out earlier that day from the energy expenditure. Now, I have ME/CFS, and crashing out after exertion/stress is normal, so nothing stood out as a warning sign. If there was one, I dismissed it as my usual fatigue. I went to sleep.

I woke up about 2.5 hours later, experiencing sleep paralysis--presumably in lieu of a fever dream. When I woke up the rest of the way, I was sweating profusely and feeling about like I'd been mowing the lawn in 105° heat. I've done that, and collapsed from heat exhaustion from it, before. I was hotter at that moment than I had been back then.

I put a wrist to my forehead, and the sensation was like holding a hairdryer on high to my forehead at point-blank range. My pillow was just as hot, and no amount of flipping fixed that. (I should point out here that I normally run cold--ridiculously cold, sleep with the quilt up in the middle of a Texas summer cold--and this never happens unless I am very sick.)

I smelled like fever. Some people don't think you can smell fevers, but I was a sickly child and spent so much of my life in pediatricians' waiting rooms full of feverish children that after a while I noticed a particular smell unique to those environments. Since then, I've been able to accurately identify it elsewhere by that smell.

I was completely confused. I'd had to go into the grocery store without a mask earlier that day because I ran out, but even I don't present that quickly. It couldn't be from that. Some old geek part of me remembered Anime Fever, and on a hunch, I googled "can you give yourself a fever from stress?" And yes. Yes, you can.

I sat up, and when I touched the mattress where I had been sleeping with one hand, it felt like trying to pick a dish up out of the dishwasher immediately after it's through running. It was that hot.

The recommended treatment was anti-inflammatories and any relevant psych meds that can reduce anxiety, so I took 800mg of ibuprofen and an extra, small dose of seroquel. Then I took my clothes off and downed a few bottles of water, my usual trick for cooling down once I've gotten too hot, and sat on the foot of my bed to give my mattress time to cool down before getting back in bed to try to sleep.

The fever broke at around 6:15 a.m., and I was finally able to rotate back to the other side of my mattress and pillow, and go back to sleep. I slept until 1:20 p.m.

The Takeaway: This is a real phenomenon! Use it on your whumpees with poor immune systems, either naturally or broken down from their ordeal. It's no longer just an anime trope.

[gaykneecaps]

i feel so sad for people who hear the word love and only think of romantic love. they cage themselves into boxes. when i hear the word love, i think of staring out the car window, looking at the steep dives of the hilly countryside, knowing in that moment that i would never be able to remember the exact way the hills and mountains curved, but knowing i would always remember the love i felt for them and the land that i grew up on. when i hear the word love, i think of the dark music classroom under the stairs, deep underground in the music department. i think of leaving that music room, and looking up through the sky window to see a black sky and rain falling down onto the glass as the fairy lights on the roof reflect off of the ice cold panes. when i hear the word love, i think of standing with the wind tugging at my hair like a child with its plaything as i stare out at the ocean, knowing that it has existed long before me and will exist long after me, that my love for it will never be acknowledged because it has had so many love it before and so many will love it after, and knowing that there are other people out there staring at the same, endless blue sea of love and memories that i am. When i hear the word love, i think of the patch my sibling's partner gave me from one of their gigs, sewn into my pants with my other sister's embroidery thread. When i hear the word love, i think of craning my neck through the pain to stare up at the cloudy sky. When i hear the word love, i think of sitting under the green canopy of a tree, watching the rain fall in buckets and waves, and the feeling of the stray raindrops that find their way to me through the thick green leaves. When i hear the word love, i think of messaging my friends at 3am just to make sure they know how much i love them. When i hear the word love, i think of the pair of boots i got from the opp shop, kept together with various different shades of duct tape. When i hear the word love, i think of the memories i have of friends long past, of staying up until 1am with them to play minecraft on our glitchy, shitty computers. When i hear the word love, i think of the rain against my window as i listen to calming music, of hearing the beep of my headphones as i turn them off so i can listen carefully to the sound of the raindrops hitting the glass panes. When i hear the word love, i think of the old rusting spoon, hidden behind trees and thorns in the very back of the old paddock our family owns, the spoon having been there decades before we bought it, and knowing that it will be there decades after i die. When i hear the word love, i think of all the moments that have led me here. When i hear the word love, i think of the chickens in the back of my grandma's home that she hand-made a home for. When i hear the word love, i think of the pieces of my favourite wikipedia article that i have pinned up against my wall. When i hear the word love, i think of the shoes my sibling gave me, laced with the mud-tracked rainbow laces they handed me with a smile. When i hear the word love, i think of my sister's growing collection of sewing machines of various ages, of her collection of metal bits and bobs she finds in the side of the road. I think of watching her eye light up as she spots something glinting on the sidewalk, of bending down and picking up the piece of metal like a prize. When i hear the word love, i think of taking the train to school having had no meds, coffee or food just so that i could see my friend who had an exam that day, even though i was under no obligation to go to school. When i hear the word love, i think of the amount of love that i hold for the world that fostered everything that i love. I think of how much love i hold for the soil underneath me and the trees that grew out of it, the rain that falls from the sky, i think of staring up at the moon as a child and considering it my friend, watching how it followed me wherever i went. To convince yourself that love means nothing but an empty kiss and sorrowful promises sounds hollow and miserable.

[saintship]

Can i request Reader being almost blown up on the mission and their face is almost completely burnt/scarred??😢When they wake up and see their red face covered in bandaids and oils they just break down and decide to wear a mask from now on. And Konig seeing them doesn't know what's going on until he accidentally notice how they pulled up their mask a little to eat. Pleaseee😭 I've hard this idea for days. Can it be with fluff at the end? LOVE YOUR WORK SM

THANK YOU !!

OH MY GOD SAINTSHIP ABOUT FUCKING TIME

this has been ROTTING in my drafts I am so sorry anon, also got a little carried away at the end but nothing spicy just big feels

I really hope you enjoy

I love this idea it’s so fitting for König, I feel he’s very observant given how little he draws attention to himself.

Mask

König x gn!Reader - call sign: Radar

Life around the base could be monotonous. Being in one place usually meant paperwork, meals, paperwork, sparring or group lessons, more paperwork, passing out in your bunk, and doing it all again.

It was different, however, when all of this is happening directly after a loss. And not just losing the fight, but losing many of their soldiers. It was the young men, some no older than 20, losing their lives in the explosions that no one predicted that shook the 141 especially. Their only solace was that they managed to save you.

The air around you was burning hot, flakes of ash floating to singe the gaps of skin they could access. You crawled desperately on your stomach underneath a scorched truck, trying to make your way to the others.

“RADAR, COPY!”

A flaming piece of rubble tumbled next to you, making you jump.

“I’m—I’m on my way..”

“By the east bridge where we came in, you got that?”

Ghosts assuring tone rang faintly in your ears. Finally, you crawled out into a open area, stumbling in the direction of the bridge. The truck there flashed its headlights.

“Move it, private!”

“Yes sir..”

Before you made it a hundred yards, the engine in the car beside you exploded, blasting your body to one side and scalding the right side of your face in flames.

“RADAR!”

Your head smacked the dirt, and the world around you blurred until it was dark.

“Wrap their face!”

“Bampots, these fucks are.”

Soap’s voice cut through the fog that seemed to fill your ears.

“Speak—english.” Your rough voice caught the attention of the truck you lay in, Gaz quickly finishing up wrapping your face. He left as much room as he could, but all that showed in the end was your left eye and mouth.

“Lass..” Soap ignored your taunt, moving to kneel at your side.

“Hi.” Your voice sounded unlike yourself.

Soap’s attention was suddenly pulled to the back of the truck as it rolled to a stop. He darted to swing them open, revealing a few members of Las Almas.

“We’re understaffed on medics, but Rudy’s got basic medical training from boot.” Price explained. “Are you stayin’ awake okay?”

You nodded, the movement stinging your face and scalp, but as he said those words it was like he’d called it—the interior of the truck was dotting quickly in dark spots. Rudy’s gloved hand touching your shoulder was all you felt, and you slipped under again.

This time, it wasn’t voices that woke you. It was the incessant beeping of a heart rate monitor at your side. They’d brought you to the med unit on base—you were home. After taking in the sterile room, your head fell back against the pillow again, exhausted. Fresh gauze plastered most of your face, but the skin underneath felt dry. You needed a change.

Carefully setting down the fingertip pulse monitor on the bedside table, you guided your IV stand over to the mirror and sink, sifting through the drawers for gauze and burn ointment. After retrieving the right tools, you hesitate before removing your wraps. Your good eye seemed as though the color had dulled—the dark circles underneath especially prominent. Your lips were slathered in ointment, but the damage was evident. Breathing deeply, you began to unwrap the gauze. Your eyes remained trained on the sink until the last piece fell into the basin, only then lifting your eyes to the mirror.

No. No, no..

The right half was—gone. It was hard to describe; the skin that had been there before was rendered to an angry scarlet. The tissue pulled and tightened oddly, your right eye missing it’s eyelashes and eyebrow. A sob ripped from your throat involuntarily. Your face contorting from the crying caused pain to tear through your head while your tears stung the affected areas. You hardly registered a nurse coming in, leading you to lie back down, and re-wrapping your head through your protest. One sentiment rang clear through your breaking down;

You could not show this face anymore.

Which brought you to now. Sitting alone, hunched up in the corner of the cafeteria, quickly lifting your balaclava only to put food in your mouth before covering it just as quickly. It had only been a few days—the others knew to leave you be. The 141 sat in a group not far from you, one of them sneaking a glance every so often. You seemed to shrink into yourself, as though you could disappear if you cowered enough.

König wandered into the cafeteria not long after you’d sat down, sitting by himself to eat. You felt a little creepy people watching, knowing you resembled a certain intimidating member of the task force, but found nothing better to do.

König rid of his tray after eating quickly, going over to the 141 after Soap cheerfully called him over. You smiled at his inclusiveness, which deepened when König pointed to himself curiously. Even though smiling pulled at the tender muscle, you didn’t care.

König was pulled into a seat by Soap’s arm, the sight of such a smaller man strong-arming him rather ridiculous.

“Leave him be, Christ, Johnny.” Price picked at his tray, shaking his head at the soldier.

“I’m being friendly, sir.” Soap defended himself, relieving König of his arm.

“Friendliest in the military, aye?” Ghost murmured, lifting his mask to drink out of his canteen.

“Pride myself on it.”

“You’re diggin’ your grave, mate.” Gaz grinned.

“Oi, you-"

“Moving on!” Price grunted, to which Soap sat back and sulked at his refusal to let him argue.

“That was impressive the other day, König. Pulling a truck together and findin’ someone to treat Radar? You saved their life.”

König studied the grain of the tabletop, heat rising up his neck. “Danke. I still don’t know—what happened? They still look..scared.” König snuck a glance at you. Your fleeting eyes and hunched shoulders made his heart break. Seeing someone so determined, so welcoming, so gracious and funny and kind, reduced to a frightened animal—it didn’t make sense.

Price sighed, his eyes carrying the same weight König held in his chest.

“Their face..it got pretty fucked up. It won’t impact their daily living too much, and I’ve seen worse, but it obviously got to them.”

Soap fiddled with the screw top of his canteen. “Really got to them.”

König casted one last look and caught sight of your charred skin, everything clicking into place. You thought you needed to hide.

“I hope they get through it.” K��nig murmured.

“For their sake.”

Because they’re so nice to be around.

König watched you a bit again at dinner, catching more of your facial scars. He wished he had the words to speak to you, but his boots seemed to cement to the linoleum at the thought of approaching.

“You got a crush, eh?” Soap’s sudden presence beside König startled him, studying Soap’s smug half-smile with confusion.

“Crush?” He repeated the new English word. “What is that? What am I crushing?”

“No-" Soap grinned, sitting up straight. “You have a crush. Means you like someone. In that way? König, do I need to explain-"

“No—no, no, I understand now.” König’s face burned; he was grateful it was largely hidden. “I don’t, though, I-"

Soap’s face morphed into one of ‘don’t even try.’

“It’s..” König huffed, lowering his voice. “I’m their colonel.”

“Eh, not really. Different clubs n’ all.” He pointed briefly to Radar. “They’re a keeper. And sweet, too. Don’t stamp this out, mate.” With a clap to König’s shoulder, he stood to join his task force as the mess hall cooks called an end to the meal. König nearly jogged to his quarters, his thoughts racing.

Sitting at the edge of your cot, you removed your balaclava for the first time in nearly 18 hours. The fresh air soothed the irritation caused by trapped sweat and fabric, a sigh escaping your nose.

You made you way to the mirror and sink, studying the damage as you did every chance you got. It wasn’t as angry as the day you got hurt, but the scarring would be permanent. You turned away before more tears could slip by, gently folding the cloth mask.

A rapping on your door made you jump, striding over quickly while wrestling with the mask to go back over your head. You opened the door cautiously, revealing a tall silhouette.

“Hello.”

“Hi, König..” you scanned the hall, not completely sure what it was you were searching for.

“Can I—come in? If that’s alright, it’s okay if-"

“Sure.” You left the door to sway of its own volition, turning to sit on your cot and look up at your coworker. “What’s going on?”

König closed the door gently, fidgeting with his hands. “I’ve—noticed something about you.”

Your shoulders deflate. “No shit.”

You didn’t mean to bite your words that way, but you did, and he shrunk a bit at your tone.

“I apologize. I will leave you be-"

“No, König,” you sighed, frustrated with yourself. “Say what you were going to say.”

He paused, as if a step in any direction would set off an alarm. “May I?” He gestured to the space beside you, to which you nodded.

The cot bowed slightly as he sat, his height still a bit intimidating even after some time knowing him. Being right next to him, you couldn’t help but feel a little small. He looked at his lap, wrestling with his mind on how to start the conversation.

“Where did you get your callsign from?” He blurted the question, briefly turning his head to you.

You paused, not expecting his casual inquiry. “Uh..when we did training in the dark, in boot camp, I could always feel someone coming up behind me.” You gestured to your back before clasping your hands back together. “My sergeant would tell me I had a built-in motion radar,” you laughed a bit at the memory, finding the courage to smile a bit under your mask. “Gaz had met me by then, and he started calling me by Radar, and it stuck.”

König blinked thoughtfully, humming in understanding.

“That’s not the reason you came in, is it?” You teased, leaning to push his side a bit. You noticed he let himself sway instead of remaining rigid.

“You got me. Uh..I just wanted to tell you something that I thought you could..consider.”

Biting back another deflective joke, you nodded, letting him continue.

“There was never a time in the military that I did not have my sniper hood.” He studied his boots, which still easily sat flat on the floor. “Not just because of my—aspiration, but.." he inhaled, then sighed deeply.

You could tell he’d never spoken these words. The impulse to touch some part of him, to comfort him, was blinding. Only his voice brought you back into the moment.

“It was..is, because I hate to see myself. I hate being seen. It feels like I’m giving away a part of myself to every stranger I come across. I would rather choose who sees me, in more ways than one.”

His voice was no more than a murmur, and for the first time, you saw the broken man nestled in a soldier’s body before you. His head hung low, his hands shook, and in the silence after his confession, his eyes fluttered shut. To hide from what, you didn’t know.

“I need you to know," he spoke, eyes still closed. “You don’t have to live this way. You are..kind, and resilient. And..” he turned his head away to utter the final word, a whisper in the dim light.

“And beautiful.”

“König..”

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry..” he stood abruptly, shaking the cot. Watching him head for the door, you refused to let yourself lose him.

“Wait.”

You ripped off what covered your face, your hair falling into place in its wake. König stared, entranced.

“I’m glad you came here. I don’t want you to go, I don’t..” it was your turn to sigh in pause. “I don’t want you to hide from me.”

König blinked, confusion gathering in his eyes.

“Please?”

“Liebling..” he breathed. He crossed the room in a few strides, taking your scarred cheek in his hand.

Anxiety held you in place, your hands finding purchase in the gaps of his vest and his sweater.

“You deserve to walk out of this room and not feel afraid.”

“König..”

And then his hands were over his head, pulling up his beloved sniper hood over and off of his head. You didn’t move, your only physical reaction being the blush that burned its way up your neck.

His eye paint made him look intimidating, but his eyes were far from threatening anyone. His lips, scarred from combat, parted slightly with bated breath. On the skin not painted with black, freckles dotted randomly, forming triangles, lines, and other shapes you wanted to memorize. His brow worried into a slight upturn, which was hidden ever so slightly by the hair that dropped near his eyes. The rest of it was a mess, a rich auburn that stuck up and settled down in all the right places.

“You’ve got to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words tumbled out before you could catch them by the tail. Fear clogged your throat in the moments where he didn’t respond before he leaned down quickly, pressing his lips gently to yours. It was devoted and kind, a kiss that said I don’t just love you, I like you.

When he pulled back, both his hands were still settled on your cheeks, the heat of his palms making you dizzy.

“Thank you..” you breathed.

König grinned sideways, and you nearly fainted.

“For what?”

“Not leaving.”

[momotorin]

let it snow, let it snow

fluff (finally) | wife!momo x fem!reader | and as always, MEN DNI!

felt a little festive about winter >< (i live in a tropical country [i am a swagpino 😻]) + momo in a tank top and calvin kleins save me

a degree for the weather. your head feels like it was clogged, and your mouth feels dry; the warmth of your body drained away by the cold winter air.

you pat on the other side of the bed, finding no one to share the blankets with. you shoot your eyes open, as your lover left her space, and found the door of your shared room open.

"love?" you called out, hoping for a response. after a few seconds, you sigh heavily as you went outside of the room.

you heard the speakers blasting a jazz christmas classic, "let it snow!" and you can't help but chuckle at the sight of your wife, in her robe, dancing and cooking pancakes.

you laugh, wrapping your arms around her lithe waist, making your wife freeze on her spot.

"oh!" she exclaimed, and looked at you, winking. "good morning, beautiful."

"shut up," you smiled once more as you felt her cold hands slither to cup your cheek. "woke up great?"

"hm, very," she chuckled, placing a small kiss on your cheek. "sorry if i left you for a little while."

"don't worry about it," you sighed, still keeping a hand around her waist as she continued with her pancakes. "smells yummy."

"oh, it should!" she flips it around, the tall, sweet, fluffy on the pan. "i was supposed to bring it to you to bed, love. you were quite knocked out last night."

"yeah," you put your head on her shoulder, pinching her sides playfully as you teased her. "you're the one i who told me you can't resist me, who am i to say no?"

"you're insufferable." she sighs, teasing you back. she turns off the heat, reaching for a plate on the cupboard.

"and you married me, yeah." you laughed as you reached the plate for her.

"yeah, i did," she happily received the plate, putting the pancakes on it. "maple syrup?"

"chocolate," you said. "should i make coffee for us?"

"that'll be amazing, love," she smiles, her eyes crinkling in joy. "i'll just be waiting at the table for you, hm?"

"yes," you get your cups, a matching pair that one of your friends got you at your wedding. "just..." you grunted, reaching for the coffee just beside the plates, quite high for your liking. "alright." you sighed in relief, finally getting the container of ground coffee in your hands.

"you sure you're fine, love?" momo asks, her tone concerned.

you happily put on the coffee in its maker. she's always been too caring, and it hasn't changed for even one bit. "yup!"

a little later, you sat on the table with her, offering a cup of coffee to warm her cold hands.

"you sure you're not cold?" you ask, seeing her only in her pink tie-dye fleece robe, some tank top, and her calvin klein underwear. "you look quite... summery."

"i'm not," she laughs. "you can just say that i'm hot, love."

"i can't with you," you laugh again, at her very contradictory joke with the weather. "i mean you are but can you beat the temperature outside?"

"probably not," she sighs, digging into the breakfast you share. "you took your meds already?"

you took a slice out of the pancake, making sure you get a little bit of everything. "not yet," you smiled as you took a bite. "god, your pancakes are so good."

"i'm starting to think you only married me for the food." momo comments, taking a sip on her hot coffee.

"partly, yeah," you joked once more. "but i married you because i see me loving you every single day. didn't you hear that at our vows?"

"i was busy crying," momo fake cried, and you laughed. "oh god did my pictures come out ugly?"

"no, of course not," you chuckled. "don't worry i was crying too."

"see! we're quits, then," she laughs, looking outside the window and seeing the buildings below whipped in white, almost powder-like snow. "wow."

"yeah, wow." you stare at the nature of the snow falling down from the sky, like little shooting stars, greeting your morning and grazing your city with frost.

it dawned on you that it's the first winter that you're spending with your now wife. it just made your pancakes sweeter.

momo smiles as she saw you smile to yourself. "the pancakes must be really good, huh?"

"no," you laughed at her. "i just realized that this is my first winter with my wife. isn't that so amazing, love?"

momo coos, holding your hand across the table and smiling. "such a sweet talker," she comments, standing to go to your side and gives you a small kiss. "it is amazing. more than we could ever know."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I found this blog through a reblog and decided I’d poll Tumblr whether I’m the asshole. And the reason I’m concerned is because my mother (53 f) doesn’t think I’m the asshole, and that’s a bit of a red flag.

My sister (22 f) was home from college for break. She was to be traveling out of state to visit her boyfriend (23 m). Meaning, she was going to be flying in the continental US. As such, she needed a 1 qt, clear, plastic bag for her travel liquids. My family has several durable and clear plastic bags (as opposed to ziplocks) for this very purpose.

But rather than use one of these empty bags, she emptied my care bag.

This bag is fairly small. It usually holds my acne medication, including topical creams, tablets, prescribed moisturizer, etc… in travel sizes for me to take with me to work. I also include my migraine meds and lactose pills in this bag, among other things. And it fits perfectly within my backpack’s side pocket (which is why I bought it).

I noticed immediately that she had taken it as she had just dumped the contents all over my bathroom counter. So, I called her and told her that she needed to return it to me (at the time, she was only an hour away and her flight wasn’t for another week). She tried to play it off at first. “What bag?” Then she tried to reason that it wasn’t a big deal. Then she told me she didn’t want to make her bf drive an hour to return the bag to me as it’d put them an hour back in their drive, so I should just let it go.

And the reasonable part of me thinks… maybe I should? Maybe I should just go out and buy a new bag? Like… it’s annoying that she took it without asking and dumped everything out of it. It’s annoying that the bag doesn’t even meet TSA requirements as she claimed (it’s black and not completely clear). It’s annoying that I had asked her if she needed me to get her anything up for her night before and that rather than ask for help, she took something. And it’s annoying that she didn’t use the clear bags provided to her by our mother.

But the thing is… it’s not just the bag. This happens with all my stuff. It got so bad when I was a teen that my father put locks on all my drawers and doors that only I had keys to (my parents did have a spare set in the event I lost mine that they— ironically— “lost”).

EX: I have a pair of Levi jeans that I bought with a gift card from my grandparents. Levi’s are— well— expensive. Earlier last year, before she went back to school after break, I noticed they were missing. I called her and told her I was angry about this. She insisted I was “insane” and that she would never take them and that I likely misplaced them or lost them (I do have memory problems, combo of ADHD and whatever causes my migraines). My father helped me look for them. He even looked through her stuff. They *were not* in the house. But 5 months later after she came home from college, I found them under my bed (they were not previously under my bed). “See, I told you that you lost them.”

So, I told her that she needed to find a way to return the bag to me and that under no circumstances was she allowed to leave the state with it (if she did, there wasn’t much I would’ve or could’ve done about it, so I was hoping this ultimatum would work). And I said that if she didn’t return it, I would tell our mom about all the unused, unopened pregnancy tests she was stocking and hiding in her room (found when I went looking for spoons as she hides my mother’s spoons after using them). She told me “You’re insane. It’s just a bag,” but she did mail it back to me and I got it in time for work that Monday.

My mother says I was justified in demanding it back (she doesn’t know about the unused tests), but she is often petty and demanding and blows up or snaps at the smallest things. So, I am concerned that I made a big deal of nothing or that I took it too far.

AITAH? ESH?

What are these acronyms?

[in1-nutshell]

AYYAYAAY REQUEST ARE OPENN :DD

Now I can actually say this since I’m curious

I want to see Ophelia snap, like get really angry since we barely see her getting anger :3

Ophelia doesn't snap too often, but when she does... it isn't pretty.

Hope you enjoy!

Ophelia snaps

SFW, Romance, Slight Angst, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

RID 2015

Ophelia was working on some of the Decepticon hunter’s while the others were out on their daily patrol.

Even Fix-it joined the team, leaving Denny and Russel.

Ophelia happily explained some of the repairs to the humans when the sounds of engines roaring came in.

Ophelia smiled to herself as she and the human went to the main area.

She was not prepared to see the team all battered up.

And noticing the absence of their leader and her Conjunx.

Ophelia racing over to the team gently guiding them to the med bay. Ophelia: “Where’s Bee and Steve?” Drift groaning: “We were ambushed. Bumblebee and Steve stayed behind to buy us all some time to escape. They have been captured.” Ophelia clenches her servos before going to the main console before grabbing a Decepticon hunter and marching to the entrance. Grimlock blocks the exit with his tail: “Lia? What are you doing?” Ophelia: “I’m getting our leader and Conjunx back.” Sideswipe: “You? Alone? Fat chance.” Strongarm: “If the 7 of us barely got out of there what makes you think going there alone is a good idea?” Ophelia gives them all a harsh glare. Some of the bots step back. Ophelia: “I HAVE a plan Strongarm. And I WILL get them out of there with or without the team. So, who’s with me?”

The team was surprised seeing how serious the minibot was on their way to the location.

They arrived at an abandoned warehouse.

Steve and Bumblebee were both tied up and gagged in the middle of the room.

The team began to run towards them, when the traps got triggered.

One by one each member got tied up, rendering them immobile.

Out of the shadows the leader of the small group of cons had shown his face.

It was during the monologue that the team realized that they were a member short.

Leader: “And then when I—I, I’m sorry I can’t help but get the feeling that you’re ignoring me.” SLAM! The rafter above the Cons opens up and a familiar minibot lands. Steve in pure panic: “OPHELIA!” Drift: “So that’s where she ran off to.” Bumblebee noticing Steve on the verge of a panic attack: “Drift, not the time.” The leader and his crew laugh at the minibot holding the smaller version of a Decepticon hunter.

Leader: “HAHAHAHAHA! And what is the little minibot going to do with that puny toothpick?” Ophelia: “…Have you forgotten who I am?” She activates the Decepticon hunter turning into a mace. Ophelia: “Let me give you a reminder of who’s team you decided to hurt.”

The team stared in shock at the brutal beatdown the pacifist minibot laid on the Cons.

Steve had flashbacks to the ‘training’ sessions he had seen on the Nemesis.

Not very good flashback either.

Once Ophelia had finished beating the Cons up and putting them in their respective stasis cuffs, it was as if a switch had been turned on.

Ophelia ran to Bumblebee with fear in her optics. Ophelia: “Is everyone okay?! Hold on, I’ll get those things off you!” Ophelia unties Bumblebee and then Steve. Steve immediately pulls her in for a hug. Ophelia responds with an equally strong hug. Steve: “Don’t you EVER do something like that again! Please… don’t do that…” Ophelia just hugs him tighter. Steve pulls her closer and carries her bridal style. Ophelia: “My Spark, I can walk.” Steve: “I know.” Ophelia just looks at his face with love. Sideswipe: “Since when can you do that!?” Ophelia: “You don’t become the temporary leader of the Decepticon’s without knowing how to fight Sides.” Strongarm: “You were the what?!” Ophelia looking over at Grimlock: “Did no one really know that?” Grimlock just shrugs before patting her helm. Drift nods and joins the others. Bumblebee goes up to her side: “You did good Ophelia, but like Steve said—” Ophelia rolling her optics playfully and tiredly: “I know, I know… but I don’t regret it.” Steve squeezes her a bit before joining the others on the walk back home.

snap!

[bellysoupset]

Sick Max + Caretaker Vince - Part 2

-----------------------------

Wendy was a Tylenol and a cup of chamomile tea into sleep when her phone started ringing, from across the room.

It was the age old technique of leaving her phone out of reach so she'd be forced to get up to turn off the alarm and not risk falling back asleep in the process. Normally she was such a heavy sleeper than even this didn't stop her from sleeping past at least two alarms.

So it was much to her annoyance when she pushed her sleeping mask off and it wasn't 8 AM as it should be, but instead dark out. For a second Wendy considered not getting up, however the ringing was insistent and she was too curious to just go back to sleep.

P.Magnt - flashed across the screen, over a picture of Vince all sweaty, cheeks ablaze and curls a mess, in his football uniform. Wendy's heart plummeted to her stomach.

"Vin? What's wrong? It's the middle of the night-"

"Hey, hey, hey-" His voice was steady and soothing and Wendy let out a sigh, settling back against the pillows, still upright, but not as straight, "easy, honey. I'm fine."

"Uhm," she yawned, "the why are you calling me at-" Wendy squinted at her too bright screen, "two forty five AM?"

"I'm really sorry to wake you up, Wen," Vince sounded tired, but not sleepy in the least, "I just need your expertise for a minute, because Google is telling me fuck-all."

"...What is it?" Wendy yawned, sliding down on the bed and pulling sleeping mask down once more.

She heard shuffling around, then Vince cursing and faintly, far in the background, the noise of someone coughing, "when should I be worried about dehydration if someone is throwing up non stop...?"

"God," she groaned, "please don't say you're sick, Vin-"

"No! No, not me, I'm fine," he hurried to soothe her, "Daniels, my coworker."

"Oh, I know who Daniels is," Wendy couldn't help but tease him, "how long he's been sick for?"

"I don't know, uhm- Since around ten... I think ten, yeah."

She tried to do the count, landed in a vague four hours and left it at that, "he's got diarrhea as well?"

"Nope, don't think so. Not on my watch, at least."

Wendy smiled, wrinkling her nose. In another life, he should've been a health professional, "he's dizzy? Lost consciousness?"

"Dizzy, yeah, but very conscious. Pain in my ass," Vince's voice got louder, clearly meaning for the other guy to hear it. In the background, Wendy heard a door opening and a loud groan, "we got a medic at the resort, but he doesn't want me to take him there."

"It's embarrassing," Wendy heard Max say, voice all husky, "humiliating."

"So is dying during the kid's field trip," Vince pointed out, but Wendy interrupted before he decided to elaborate in the bickering.

"Vin, I think he's out of trouble. Give him an hour before trying liquids again, then try ice chips every other 15 minutes, and only after you empty two cups he's allowed to have sips of water. Just sips!"

"Yes, ma'am," Vince answered cheekily, voice thickening up with a yawn, "alright, so I don't have to worry he's dying? It's been non-stop."

"Not unless he starts losing consciousness or you notice a very dry mouth, if he still has liquid to bring up its generally a good sign," Wendy turned on her side, snuggling up her phone, "take him-" she yawned, "take him to the med bay if the puking doesn't taper off in 4 hours."

"Alright," Vince let out a sigh, "thank you, honey. And I'm sorry for waking you up-"

"No," Wendy smiled, "it was nice hearing your voice, I was sad you didn't call before bed. Now I know why."

"Yeah, sorry, it's been a mess," Vince sounded wounded, "I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

"You better," Wendy yawned once more, "I'm going back to sleep, text me in the morning about your patient, nurse Monacelli. Love you."

"Love you too and thank you again," she heard a noise like Vince sending her a kiss and Wendy grinned to herself, letting her phone fall between her pillows, not bothering to hang up.

-----------

Max was curled up on his side, shivering non stop and Vince didn't like it one bit. The puking he could handle, the fever...

"Hey, let's try the ice chips," Vince crouched down, sitting on the side of his coworker's bed and the blonde simply curled up more at the jostling of the bed.

"Won't stay down," he croaked, causing Vin to roll his eyes.

"Nothing to stay down," he pointed out how small the ice chips were, holding a spoonful up to Max' cracked lips, "c'mon, man, otherwise I'll have no choice but take you to the med bay here."

"Noo-URGHP-" his whine morphed into a burp and Max scrambled to sit up, but he was long empty and didn't bring anything up despite the heaving. He let out a groan, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, "my head is killing me."

"Because you need to drink something," Vince pushed the spoon closer to the other man's mouth and he fully expected Max to slap his hand away, but instead the blonde opened his mouth obediently and took the ice.

His grimace melted away at the sensation of the cold melting ice and he took in another spoonful, letting out a unsatisfied noise when Vince put the paper cup away.

"Sorry, we'll try in fifteen minutes," Vince winced in sympathy and Max nodded, falling back against the pillows and curling up, wrapping both arms around his stomach.

It was unnerving to see the guy so down for the count, it made Vince want to shake him like a rattle toy. Instead, he fixed the room, washing the trashbin in the bathroom and setting it back down next to Max's head, covering the guy with a thin blanket and finally falling into bed.

It was around 5 AM when Vince woke up with stirring. He was an incredibly light sleeper, so this wasn't surprising. For a minute he just lied there, trying to figure out what was happening, only to hear a choked up sob and the noise of liquid hitting plastic.

"Aw, man," Vince yawned, stumbling out of his bed and crossing the dark room, "there's no way you got anything to bring up..."

Max hiccupped, then let out a pitiful moan, "kill me, Vince."

"In Canada? I'll get in too much trouble for it to be worth it," Vince teased, planting a hand on the man's trembling back. Sleepy as he was, he couldn't hold back from how touchy he was.

Max let out a little shaky chuckle, moving on the bed in order to muffle a sick burp against the pillow, "my eyes hurt..." he mumbled, sounding more than a little drowsy.

"Hold on," Vince yawned, walking to the bathroom. He grabbed the little hand towel, then folded it in half and ran it under the water tap, before returning to the room. It wasn't as dark anymore, the sun just starting to appear in the cloudy horizon, bathing the room in dark grey color.

He crouched next to bed, wrinkling nose as he got a clearer view of the bin, with only some cloudy water sitting inside of it, "c'mere-" Vince instructed softly, grabbing the blonde's bicep and forcing him to uncurl, so he facing up instead of having his face buried in the pillow, then he planted the humid washcloth over the man's forehead and eyes.

The effect was immediate, Max's whole body melted against the mattress, tension leaving him, "whoa... Thanks..."

"No problem," Vince shrugged, grabbing the bin, "try to sleep."

Daniels nodded and Vince went back to the bathroom to clean out the bin. Once he was back, Max was snoring softly, seemingly not in pain, his face slack.

Vince yawned in his fist, stumbling back to bed and rolling on his side, hoping to get a couple more hours to sleep before their alarm went off at 8 AM.

As soon as he was up once again, he was checking on his co-worker-rival-friend. Max was curled up, the washcloth had fallen from his forehead, but the head had diminished considerably, to the point Vince let out a relieved sigh.

The blonde stirred slightly with the touch, frowning and opening his eyes, "what...?"

"Nothing," Vince shook his head, "just checking your fever, go back to sleep."

"Uhm-" his eyes slipped close once more, but he frowned, "what time is it? Do I have to get up? The stude-"

"I got them," Vince ruffled Max's hair without thinking, then pulled back his hand, cringing to himself. Thankfully Daniels was too out of it to think about the gesture.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, get some rest." Vince stepped away from the bed, but not before he heard Max's little:

"Thank you, Vin..."