#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)

[mintyys-blog]

avengers x nurse! reader: Nurse Knows Best

WARNINGS: none

The Avengers were like a group of overgrown kids who happened to have superpowers, and as their designated nurse, it was your job to keep them in one piece—not that they ever made it easy for you.

You’d worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough to know that most agents had a tendency to push themselves too hard, but the Avengers? They were on a whole other level. It didn’t matter if they had a broken rib, a twisted ankle, or a mild concussion; they’d brush it off like it was nothing. And every time, you were there to scold them.

The med bay was bustling after a mission gone sideways. You stood with your hands on your hips, surveying the chaos as various members of the team wandered in, clearly worse for wear.

“Okay,” you said loudly, clapping your hands to get their attention. “Everyone who’s injured, sit down and let me take a look at you. No exceptions.”

Tony Stark was the first to protest, of course. “I’m fine, Nurse Killjoy. It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing at the deep gash on his arm that was still bleeding. “Sit. Now.”

Tony rolled his eyes but obeyed, muttering under his breath about bossy nurses.

Next up was Clint, who was cradling his wrist. “I don’t need—”

“Don’t even start, Barton. Sit.”

He sighed dramatically but plopped down in the nearest chair.

Steve Rogers walked in next, limping slightly but trying to hide it. You immediately spotted the blood seeping through his suit at his side.

“Captain Rogers,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re leaking blood all over my floor.”

Steve looked down, as if noticing the injury for the first time. “It’s not that bad.”

“Sit down before I make you,” you said firmly, pointing to an empty bed.

His lips twitched like he wanted to argue, but he gave in, sitting with a sheepish smile. “Yes, ma��am.”

Natasha was the only one who didn’t fight you. She sat quietly on the edge of a cot, holding a cold pack to her shoulder.

“Thank you for not arguing,” you said as you passed by.

She smirked. “Why would I? You’re the only one here who scares Steve.”

“Nat!” Steve protested from his bed.

Natasha just laughed, winking at you.

Bruce Banner was next, looking drained but otherwise uninjured. You handed him a bottle of water and told him to sit and rest, which he did without complaint.

“Where’s Thor?” you asked.

Bruce sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Last I saw, he was outside arguing with some agents about carrying Mjölnir into the med bay.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course he is.”

As if on cue, Thor burst through the doors, looking as proud as ever despite the torn sleeve of his armor revealing a nasty gash on his bicep. Mjölnir dangled from his hand as if it were a paperweight.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm. “Fear not, for I am unscathed!”

You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his arm. “And what’s that?”

Thor glanced at the wound as if noticing it for the first time. “A mere trifle! This is nothing for the God of Thunder.”

“Thor, sit down before you bleed all over my med bay,” you said, pointing to an open chair.

“But—”

“Now.”

Thor blinked, clearly unused to being bossed around, but when Natasha smirked at him from her cot, he sighed dramatically and sat down. “Very well, Lady Y/N. I shall allow you to tend to this insignificant injury.”

By the time everyone was settled and you’d cleaned, stitched, or bandaged them up, you were exhausted. But that didn’t stop you from giving them your usual lecture.

“You all need to start taking better care of yourselves,” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the room. “You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like it.”

“Technically, I kind of am,” Tony said, waving his hand. “You know, with the suit and all.”

You shot him a glare. “Even you, Stark. You have to rest and recover like everyone else.”

“I do rest,” Tony said defensively.

“Falling asleep at your desk doesn’t count.”

Natasha chuckled quietly while Steve looked at you with an apologetic smile. “You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone by agreeing. “We’ll do better.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint muttered, earning a sharp look from you.

“You will do better,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Once the med bay had cleared out and everyone was patched up, Steve lingered behind, watching as you cleaned up your supplies.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said, his voice warm.

You glanced at him, softening slightly. “Thanks. Someone has to keep you all alive.”

He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “We don’t make it easy, do we?”

“No, you don’t,” you said with a smile. “But I guess I can’t blame you. You’re trying to save the world, after all.”

Steve tilted his head, studying you. “Still, we owe you a lot. I don’t think we say that enough.”

Your cheeks warmed at his sincerity. “You just did, so… thank you.”

He gave you a small nod before turning to leave, but not before adding, “Don’t work too hard, Nurse Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Right back at you, Captain.”

A few days later, they were off on another mission. When they returned, battered but victorious, you were there, hands on your hips and ready to scold them all over again.

But this time, as they filed into the med bay, Steve caught your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

“We tried to take it easy,” he said.

You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh. “Sure you did.”

And despite their stubbornness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for being the one to keep this chaotic, mismatched family in one piece.

The Avengers were many things—heroes, legends, earth’s mightiest—but they were also, without a doubt, the biggest pains in your life. While you loved them (in a professional sense, you often reminded yourself), there were days when they seemed hell-bent on driving you to the brink of insanity.

It started innocently enough. You’d handed Clint an ice pack for his sprained wrist, warning him to use it and not to get into any trouble while waiting for you to finish with Tony.

Apparently, “trouble” was Clint’s middle name.

By the time you turned around, he was using the ice pack as a projectile, aiming it at Thor’s head.

“Barton!” you shouted, but it was too late.

Thor caught the ice pack midair and grinned like a child who’d just been handed a toy. “A fine game, indeed!”

Before you knew it, Thor had launched it back at Clint, narrowly missing your head in the process.

“Guys, stop—”

Steve walked in at the worst possible moment, only to get hit square in the chest by the ice pack. He froze, blinking in confusion, before turning his disapproving gaze on Clint.

“It wasn’t me!” Clint said, pointing at Thor.

“I’m ending this now!” you barked, snatching the ice pack off the floor and holding it like a grenade.

Everyone froze, the room dead silent.

“Good,” you said, your tone clipped. “Now, sit down, or I swear I’ll superglue all of you to the med bay chairs.”

Tony Stark’s caffeine addiction was well-documented. He was rarely seen without a coffee cup in hand, and he had a bad habit of wandering into your office to steal your coffee whenever his ran out.

You’d warned him repeatedly. But today was the day you finally snapped.

“Tony, I swear to everything holy, if you take my coffee one more time—”

“I’m not taking it,” Tony interrupted, already mid-sip.

You glared at him, debating whether it was worth the potential HR complaint to tackle him. “That’s literally my mug, Stark.”

“Is it, though?” he quipped, holding it up to inspect the “World’s Okayest Nurse” lettering you’d bought as a joke.

“Yes, it is!”

Natasha strolled in, took one look at your murderous expression, and immediately turned on her heel. “Nope. Not my problem.”

Later that day, you found a brand-new espresso machine in your office with a note that read, “Bribes work, right? - T”

You should’ve known better than to challenge Thor, but you were running on two hours of sleep, and logic had abandoned you.

“Thor, please stop leaving Mjölnir on the exam tables,” you said for the third time that day. “I can’t move it, and I’m not calling you every five minutes to come and get it.”

“It is perfectly safe where it lies,” Thor said proudly, arms crossed.

“It’s not safe for me,” you shot back. “I’m not worthy, remember?”

Thor grinned. “Perhaps you underestimate yourself, Lady Y/N. You should try lifting it.”

Your eye twitched. “Thor, I don’t have time for this.”

He ignored you, stepping back and gesturing dramatically. “Go on. Prove yourself worthy.”

With a deep sigh, you grabbed the handle and pulled with all your might. Nothing happened, of course.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a clipboard and swatting his arm with it.

Thor just laughed, retrieving Mjölnir like it weighed nothing and promising, “I shall endeavor to do better.”

He didn’t.

Bucky had a habit of sneaking up on people, but today, he outdid himself.

You were focused on updating patient files when a voice spoke from directly behind you:

“Whatcha doing?”

You screamed loud enough to send papers flying everywhere.

“BUCKY!”

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound remotely sorry. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” you snapped, clutching your chest. “Do you even know how jumpy I am?”

“Natasha bet me ten bucks I couldn’t make you scream,” he admitted with a shrug.

From the hallway, Natasha’s voice called out, “Worth every penny!”

The final straw came when you found Steve Rogers—America’s golden boy—eating chocolate pudding out of a biohazard container in the lab.

“Steve. What are you doing?” you asked, your voice unnervingly calm.

He froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Uh… eating pudding?”

“In a biohazard container?”

Steve frowned, staring at the container like it had betrayed him. “It was in the fridge. I thought it was clean.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Steve, that’s for medical samples. It literally says ‘Biohazard’ on the side.”

He looked so horrified and embarrassed that you almost felt bad for yelling at him. Almost.

“I… should probably stop eating this,” he said quietly, setting the container down.

“Ya think?” you muttered.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted. You collapsed into your chair in the break room, head in your hands, wondering how you were still sane.

Natasha walked in, holding a cup of coffee. She placed it in front of you without a word.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sipping it gratefully.

“Don’t let them get to you,” she said with a smirk. “They’re idiots, but they’re our idiots.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “That’s the only reason I haven’t quit yet.”

From the hallway, you heard Tony shout, “Who used my arc reactor as a paperweight?”

You groaned, already bracing yourself for the next round of chaos.

[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.

[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.

[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.

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[fulgrims-big-naturals]

Blood raven brings you food

its the thing i said i'd do but it took me very long because ive been having random heart palpitations and that makes me scared to take my adhd meds so i didnt start it out proper so here's this out of chronology snapshot instead

oh also @slippi-the-magos

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"hello little songbird, I'm back"

You hear Ulysses cooing from the other side of the locked door along with the clinking of keys.

"i got you something~” He is singsonging with excitement, he must think you’ll like this one.

He always gets you something. A silver bracelet, some soft dresses, a book in a language you don't understand (you haven't told him you can't read it), a disk that makes rainbows when it catches the light, every day there is a new trinket for you. And food too. Three whole meals a day, with the good corpse starch, the one with the added protein. The door opens, pushing aside some rumpled fabrics by it as Ulysses steps into the room. He turns to lock the door again before flashing you a smile.

You swallow your unease to greet him “welcome back my lord” you’re trying your best to sound sweet, but the trans human dread you feel still has weight in your throat and your shoulders. Ulysses eyes light up at your voice, and grows a smile at the title.

“Thank you, you’re so sweet” he replies “and round! You’re so round and soft” he walks over to your bed and pulls you onto his lap, bringing a bag up next to you. “Look, look, I got you oranges”

The bag is full of orange spheres. They smell sweet. You furrow your brow at his excitement. They are nice, yes, but are not very intriguing.

“Do you not like oranges?” Ulysses asks, shifting his weight under you impatiently.

“Oh- no, no, I do! Thank you my lord” you have no idea what these are.

“Oh sweet thing, they’re fruits, you eat them” Ulysses giggles and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “Didn’t you know?”

“No my lord” you answer sheepishly. You still don’t know what a fruit is, but it is probably best not to ask your lord too many questions. You’ve yet to see Ulysses in a bad mood and you don’t want today to be the day you do.

Ulysses takes an orange for himself and bites into it. Seeing him, you do the same. It prickles your mouth, you wrinkle your nose up at the taste. Such a sweet smelling thing tastes so bitter. And it’s wet in the inside, like a very strange egg.

“Oh, you don’t like them.” Ulysses says disappointedly.

Your stomach drops. What would one of his angels do if you turned down his gifts? Your lord spent some of his immortal life to dote on someone undeserving like you and you meet him with ungratefulness? You don’t want to think of what he will do. You won’t think of it. You will like oranges damnit.

“No! no I do, I do” you start chomping into the orange again, getting juice all over your nose and chin. The meat of the orange is sweeter. Without the bitter shell you do quite like it. You breathe a sigh of relief and drop your shoulders.

Ulysses observes your orange based panic, and then your orange based acceptance with fascination. “Are you sure?” He cocks his head with the question.

You turn red, embarrassed to have to explain “I, uh, I thought I didn’t like it at first because the peel was so bitter, but the meat inside is sweet, so I do like them. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m sure there is a way to take the peel off”

“I thought you would be angry that I rejected your gift. which I am not doing, my lord, I do like it”

“Well if you didn’t like them, then there’s just be more for me. So it’s a win-win really.”

“Oh”

He’s not mad. He wasn’t mad when you didn’t know what the Rainbow Making Sun Reflector Disk was either. Maybe being stolen wasn’t so bad? Your old lord would never have brought you gifts. And he’d throw a fit if you talked wrong or looked wrong or other reasons you still hadn’t figured out. You’d better stay on guard though, this Blood Raven hasn’t used you for anything yet, but he must’ve taken you for a reason.

[ghostmoon1]

Hello again !! May I request a Roach and Ghost x Reader who's experiencing period cramps,?

(The type that pain meds won't help, like- no matter the strength, they'll always just, do nothing. I have those and I feel like I'm getting scammed ngl/lh)

-Spidey anon

Decided to switch the name up a bit to feel less edgy😔😔😔

Hello again my lovely Spidey Anon!!

Great to see you back hehe! And seriously, I feel you there bc I get it bad like that too :( I've found meds made for targeting that pain that personally help me sometimes (Wish it was all the time but nothing is that perfect I'm afraid) and yeah, shit SUCKS. I hope you feel better soon and I hope these help!!

I might have done a wee bit... more for you to enjoy??

Ghost and Roach dealing with your period pain!

Ghost is well… he’s not very sure of how to help, but he's gonna do anything he can to make you feel better.

You wake up sometime during the night, eyes flickering over to the microwave, the blurring numbers telling you it's either 2 or 7 am. The way the streets were shrouded in darkness told you it was the first option. You were slightly hunched over, one hand holding your belly in a sorry attempt to help the pain that wouldn't stop punching your guts, the other clinging desperately to the small throw blanket that you had dragged off the bed for comfort. You padded across the room, although it made no difference once you opened the cupboards for a cup, your hand slightly preoccupied with the pain relief you had grabbed from the bathroom in hopes it might help even the tiniest bit. A clash and clatter echo across the room as multiple cups pour from the cupboards, landing all over the counter and floor.

You stood there in silence, staring at the kitchen's mess. This was not something that you wanted to deal with in the middle of the night, nor at any time right now. A small and strangled whine escaped your lips as you tried to keep the tears from spilling, staring at the cups on the ground still. It didn't take long for the warm tears to start to roll down your flushed cheeks, the weight of every small thing finally getting to you. The pain was too much, making you want to curl into a ball and never get back up, your lunch was cold in the middle even after trying to warm it up multiple times, you had spilt your coffee this morning, and to top it off, you just made a mess of the kitchen. Nothing had gone right today, and all you could do was cry.

It didn’t take long for footsteps to echo from the hall, and a very worried Simon Riley to appear in the doorway. “Luv? What are you doing out here at this time of the night?” he murmurs, swiftly making his way to your side to pull you into his chest.

“I needed something to help. But nothing helps,” you manage to sob into his chest between small hiccups, even a bit of drool now staining his shirt.

“Help…? What…?” he trails off as he realises what the date was, pulling you closer as he whispers and coos sweet praises into your ears. “Oh luvie… you’re okay,” 

He stands almost awkwardly as he holds you, wanting nothing more than to help but being unsure of what he can do to help. He takes his time as he sits you on the counter, cleaning up the mess of cups on the floor. He mutters to himself as he picks up a cup for you to use, frowning. “You have a… favourite cup, luv?” he mutters, smiling to himself as he earns a small giggle from you. He grabs you a glass of water and helps you take the pills, knowing they probably won't do much to help but he wishes for them to take the edge off. 

He takes you back to bed right after, telling you that you need your beauty sleep and that it’ll help, although he's slightly unsure if it really will. 

The next morning you wake to the smell of your favourite breakfast wafting through the house, dragging you up from the warmth and comfort of the blankets. Once you step foot into the kitchen, you're greeted with kisses being peppering along your cheek, jawline and neck. “Morning, Luv. Sleep well?” he’ll murmur into your ear, his hands moving along your waist to gently paw at your belly. He places a mug of coffee into your hands and one last kiss to the cheek before he returns to cooking you an amazing breakfast. 

“You wanna’ see if the pills will help at all luvie? I put them on the table,” 

And sure enough, when you turn around there's the pills on the table, ready just for you. But the table is also decorated with a vase of your favourite flowers, chocolates and a new plushie, all of which he must’ve got during the early hours of the morning. “Oh, and the kettle is boiled so if you want a hot water bottle, just tell me, yeah luv?”

He may be a little unsure at times when its that time of the month, but he hates seeing you in pain. So of course he’s going to treat his special girl the best he possibly can.

Roach is the type to be the biggest cuddle monster you’ve ever known.

You lay curled up in bed, the pack of pain relief and a glass of water thrown onto the bedside taunting you as you desperately clung to the hot water bottle for even an ounce of relief from the pain. They were horrible this time around, pain throbbing through your belly and this time not even rolling yourself into a ball could help. Nothing could help, besides curling up in bed and praying for the pain to go away.

Your desperate attempts to feel the pain away were interrupted by a soft knock on the door and the slow creak of it opening. Roach popped his head into the bedroom, his soft features becoming even softer as he witnessed your struggle with the pain. He was silent as he padded across the room to your side, kneeling down and placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Oh baby… you don’t look too well. Have you had the pain relief?” he asks quietly, his fingers tracing slow circles on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. His frown deepens as you nod and he notices the packet of pills on your bedside. “Oh no baby, they aren’t working for you huh?” 

He watches how your features scrunch up in pain for a moment before not waiting any longer nor asking before he slips into the bed behind you. His chest presses against your back, one hand slipping underneath the hot water bottle and gently massaging your stomach and the other coming up to play with your hair, cooing and whispering sweet praises. His legs tangled with yours as he tried his best to comfort you and to take your mind off the pain, lulling you to sleep. He stays with you the entire time, his hand gently massaging your stomach in an attempt to rid the pain, trapping the warmth from his body and the hot water bottle under the blanket with you. 

Whenever you wake, grumbling softly with his body still slumped over yours you’ll find him fast asleep as well. With a weak push he wakes, mumbling softly in your ear and pecking small kisses against your shoulder, whispering “Sleep okay baby?” and “Does it hurt? What can I do?”

If you ask, he’ll carefully untangle himself from your embrace ti fix some pills and water up for you in hopes they might help even a tiny bit, or if you ask for food he’ll either cook you up whatever you’d like, or order via the phone so you won’t have to move an inch. Don’t worry, he’ll look after you, he just wants you to relax and let him help.

[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

[oshygoshy]

what genre of tiktok brain rot do they watch (aka just things that pop up on my fyp)

word count - 1,054 words

warnings - not proofread also wrote this at 3 am so probably doesn't make sense

a/n - in honor of tiktok getting banned in the states. fly high, fellow americans. unfortunately i seriously need to Lock In so i am NOT redownloading any other app. i need to focus on school (desperate). feel free to add on your own headcanons too!

karasuno 

daichi - that one construction building meme like with the galvanized steel beams and wood veneers or whatever 

suga - whiteboard marker ink test videos

asahi - sticker room decorating like where they have the little tweezers and place the sticker down perfectly every time (tried to buy a pack of them for himself bc they seemed relaxing but actually just got more stressed from trying to place them down perfectly  first try. they're sitting half opened in his drawer)

noya - 3d ai art (animal fusions are his fave)

tanaka - those slideshows that are like "where are u shitting the hardest tag ur bro"

kageyama - volleyball videos. this man does not have a social media presence whatsoever. he is so disconnected 

hinata - anime edits with brazilian phonk music 

tsukki - car crash videos ("bikers fault") sprinkled in with the occasional study vlog. also on reels not tiktok. 

yamaguchi - “your month your x” videos and sends the ugly ones to the gc always (yk how december is always a harlot and kageyama’s bday is in december?)

yachi - girl group idol fancams. makes study blogs on a side account. tsukki knows but doesn't tell her. he likes & follows (under a blank account with no pfp or anything duh) 

kiyoko - makeup grwm, nail art videos

nekoma 

kuroo - skibidi toilet rizz brain rot (unironically, for some reason it's always the smart stem majors studying the hardest shit with the most intense brain rot) or idk like those math edits that actually cook. like i've seen actual edits to the pythagorean theorem 

kenma - streamer clips, new video games news, etc. watches maxwell the cat ravage the block and sends them to kuroo. he enjoyes them as well. 

yaku - cooking videos, NOT asmr - very clear distinction. like newt on tiktok. funny and also helpful voiceovers

lev - skibidi toilet rizz brain rot (this time genuinely just brain rot, not studying stem) or gym videos 

aoba josai 

oikawa - volleyball. except this time he is connected to the internet unlike kags, he's just Addicted To That Grind so he consumes vb content on his downtown. or mercury cream depotting videos (my fave tbh i want to eat it so bad)

iwaizumi - makes the occasional gym videos and always blows up bc he's hot and oikawa is for sure jealous 

mattsun - those alien videos that's like blowing up the earth with a ray gun or something and the entire comment section goes "bleep blorp zop?" yk??? and always sends them to makki 

makki - matches his freak and always replies with "dw pookster daddy can handle it🐺🥀⛓️❤️🖤" and sends the exact same shit back to mattsun 

kunimi - matcha making aesthetic asmr videos (hates matcha though)

kindaichi - sports videos as a whole he kinda dabbles in them all (is confused why kunimi watches matcha when he hates matcha)

fukurodani

bokuto - animal video compilations (so cute!!)

akashi - booktok and literature, new manga & book releases. hates on coho but overall mature with his booktok takes

konoha - pokemon nuzlocke/competitive clips. highkey has no idea what's going on (same) but enjoys them nonetheless. tried to make a competitive team once, and immediately got lost (ev? like the little fox guy?)

shiratorizawa

ushijima- does not have tiktok or insta, but still watches the videos tendou sends him tho 

tendou - i feel like random shit in general but likes horror/true crime/cave exploding stories

semi - hair salon videos…like hair styling. the more alternative the better 

shirabu - school memes but is a haughty pre-med biology student and always likes the ones that are complaining abt how hard stem is, esp compared to humanities. sorry not sorry there's always gotta be that one kid 

goshiki - dog grooming videos. he wishes somebody could apply that level of care to his own hair bc wtf is going on top of his head 

inarizaki 

atsumu - artificially likes a bunch of random shit that he doesn't gaf abt to make his fyp seem all aesthetic and cool. in actuality doesn't go on social media ever bc 1.) his pr manager has begged him not to, at least without checking in first, and 2.) genuinely just On That Grind and isn't on his phone much to begin with 

osamu - coloring videos. loves hearing the sound of the marker scratching against the paper

suna - this man's screen time is insane. mostly spent on soap-cutting videos 

kita - the chickens in his backyard coop. his farm doesn't have wifi. 

aran - those what i fed my dog videos except it's those raw-fed dogs that are given like kangaroo bones and bear hearts and shit. actually insane diets they eat so much better than me. watches them as he eats like a microwaved tv meal and feels kinda sad abt himself 

extra schools

hoshiumi- clips of nature documentaries/movies. always tries to find the rest of the movie on the account, but they never post the entire movie and gets really pissed abt ending on a cliffhanger everytime 

hirugami - "what i cooked for my husband, john, after his 12 hour shift today: traditional british pea and carrot soup" and it's deep fried, frozen. and salty. ifykyk!!

daishou- twitter arguments with temple run in the background (also video always ends with "pluh!" ifykyk)

sakusa - aita videos omgggg he loves them sm. for one, it feels like gossiping which he loves (don't tell me he doesn't love gossip, 1.) he's cousins with motoya AND 2.) chided hinata for collapsing IN A HIGH SCHOOL match which?? did he even see that himself??? like karasuno wasn't against itachiyama for that match, AND THEN brought it up to hinata when they were both in msby - aka THEIR PROFESSIONAL CAREERS. he remembered a little mishap from like 6 years ago, and that’s the first thing he brings up to hinata?? not even a hello???? he TOTALLY remembers & holds a grudge) and two, it gives him something to listen to while doing his 10 step skincare routine 

komori - mukbangs. sends the messiest ones to sakusa every time, and gets blocked for an hour every time as well 

[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!

[acapelladitty]

something lost, something gained

Summary: After being snatched by human traffickers while exploring an abandoned schoolhouse, Lucy fights to survive as she waits for Cooper to find her. (3.9k words)

(warnings for: attempted sexual assault, biting, blood, face slapping, groping, violence, murder, aftercare, hurt/comfort, cooper trying his best in a bad situation)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Awaking with a languid groan, Lucy's eyes flittered open for only a moment before slamming shut again as a dull pain to her temple made her wince and gasp. Raising her right hand to press at the skin, she was surprised to find her left hand moving in tandem and her eyes snapped open as she realised that her hands were bound together.

Gazing down at the coarse rope which encircled her wrists, panic arose in Lucy's chest as she glanced around the small, cell-shaped room and immediately understood that she was not anywhere recognisable. It didn't even look like the same building she last remembered walking into.

"Cooper?" Calling out with a dry, uncomfortable voice, a sense of irritation laced the anxiety which rolled through her. "What the fudge? Why am I in here?"

The door to the cell creaked open and Lucy glanced up from her slumped position to see a man she did not recognise fill the doorway. He was very tall, head almost brushing the top of the door frame, with a mop of raggedy blonde hair hanging limply across his shoulders and something in the way he looked at her made her skin crawl with unspoken danger. An instinctive disgust which made her mouth tighten.

"Finally awake." The man spoke, his voice sharp, light and slightly pitched. "We were worried we'd done some real damage to your head there."

At his words, Lucy finished her earlier assessment as her fingers once again grazed the hard lump which had formed on her temple - the skin feeling raw and wounded under her fingertips. Dragging her fingertips away, she found them flecked with her own blood.

"Who are you?" She asked, wide eyes darting across the limited space. "Did Cooper put you up to this? Or my father?"

"Don't know who any of those people are but we saw you going into that old schoolhouse with a ghoul so we snuck in, waited for you to split, and gently smuggled you out."

Gently smuggled.

The wound on her head suggested otherwise.

"Why?" A reflex question, one Lucy didn't think she wanted the answer to as the blonde man took a small step in her direction to stare down at her with a lecherous smirk.

"Cause you're in our territory and you're ours now. Me and my buddies have a little side business going on and you're our latest catch." His gaze roving across her white tank top and blue pants, one of his hands settled on the visible bulge of his groin as he winked at her. "We take them, break them, and pass them on to be sold. 50/50 share. And, baby, let me tell you, you're gonna fetch us a pretty price."

The panic in her chest now clawing at her heart as she scrambled her back against the cool stone of the wall, Lucy felt sweat break out across her body as she took in his candid admission with open-mouthed horror.

"No. You can't-"

"Yeah. I can smell the vault on you so I know you probably aren't rolling with the same diseases as all the other cunts we pick up."

Flinching at the term, Lucy fell back into what she knew best as old defense mechanisms kicked in to protect her as best they could.

"Let me go and I'll get you whatever you need. Caps, meds, weapons. I know people who could hel-"

"You?" Laughing openly at her offer, the man steadied himself against the doorframe. "Maybe that bulky ghoul we saw you with could have worked some muscle for us but you haven't got shit we need. Well, aside from-"

His hand still groping sleazily against his bulge, the man stepped fully within the cell and kicked the door shut before him. An action which made Lucy jump as her body shuddered and tensed to the point of discomfort, sensing the danger and violence to come.

"You see, cunt. I'm much nicer than my two friends out there and I'm willing to cut you some slack. Wrap your lips around my cock and suck it like your life depended on it, and I'll tell the boys that you're willing to be a good girl for us. They'll even leave their nasty 'breaking in' toys at the door if they think you're gonna be a good girl."

As he spoke, his body inched closer towards Lucy and her fingers shook terribly as she struggled against the rope holding her wrists, vision quick to blur as genuine fear rocked through her body.

He's going to rape me. Repeated in her head like a cruel, merciless mantra. The elders had told them what rape was, explained that they needed consent to ensure that everyone in the vault was happy and able to share their bodies without problem. They knew, in the vault, they all knew what was okay and what wasn't.

"Cooper!" She hollered out, voice breaking on the second syllable as she attempted to back up against the wall enough to scramble to her feet. "Please, fudge, someone help!"

A memory rose, unbidden in her mind as Lucy rolled her back against the wall. Not long after her body had started to change, one of the elders, a slender old guy named Ernest, had caught her in the gardens. He had asked her questions about her changing body, questions that made her heart feel heavy in her chest as a sense of how wrong he made her feel forced her to back away from him.

He had moved to grab her, his hand wrenching her arm away from her chest when her father had appeared from nowhere. He had been causal in his greeting but even as a child, she had noticed how tight her dad's smile was and how quickly he ushered her back to her room so he could have a quick chat with him.

Ernest died soon after. One of the first to be lost to the latest famine as the crops failed due to an unknown blight. She hadn't questioned it then, too many good people had been lost, but now, in this moment where that same childish fear weighed heavily at her limbs, she wondered if her father had killed him for what he had tried to do.

Kicking out with her feet as the man dropped to his knees before her, his fingers were quick to lock around her ankles - pulling her free of the wall and stealing the breath from her lungs as her head collided with the floor.

"Please, no. Don't do this! No!"

"First times always the worst."

Flashing rotted teeth at her as he straddled her waist, his hands pinned her own roped palms to her stomach as he burrowed down into her space. His breath was awful, smelling foul and rancid, and it sparked a retch in Lucy's throat as she twisted her head to the side. His tongue trailed across her cheek, tasting the grime on her skin as he growled in her ear.

"Just gotta remember to be a good girl and-ARGH!" Breaking off into a pained scream, the man reared back as blood poured from his mouth to drip down on her tank top.

Spitting out the large portion of tongue she had ripped free with her teeth, Lucy used her attackers moment of stunned pain to knock him free of her body. Crawling on her knees, she almost made it to the door when a rough hand wrapped around her hair.

"Stupid cunt!" The words lisping due to his injury, the man's hand was like fire in her hair as he snatched at her scalp viciously. "Gonna break your fucking nose for that."

Yelling as her hands locked around a small shard of metal that lay by the closed door, the man's foot having accidentally knocked it within the cell as he entered, Lucy gripped it tight as she spun on her knees, digging the shard deep into the closest foot she could reach before pulling it free with a vicious twist.

A fresh cry of pain broke free of her attacker as he crashed to the ground, his hands tight around his foot while he snarled obscenities at her.

Fuelled by adrenaline, fear and rage, Lucy pounced on him like a cat, knocking his back flat to the floor as she stabbed the metal as roughly into his throat as she could. Memories of her fraudulent husband flashed before her eyes and she hollered a vicious snarl as she dragged the metal through his skin until the blood flowed and the gurgling of his throat ceased.

Breathing heavily, she stayed in that position until his glassy-eyed stare repulsed her, the scent of fresh blood making her heave anew. Body shaking and mind rattling, it was only when a new voice broke the silence that she jumped as though an electric bolt had fired across her spine.

"Fuck, Petey. She's killed Owen."

Rolling off the corpse, Lucy was quick to take her earlier position - her stained fingers clutching the metal shard as her back pressed against the wall once more.

"Owen was always a dipshit. We'll be better off without him." The taller of the two newcomers added.

Looking just as filthy as the first guy, Lucy's eyes were wild as she pointed the metal at each of them in turn.

"L-let me go. I'll do the same to you." She stuttered, a sinking feeling of despair making her skin feel cold and clammy. "I've killed people before and you'll be next."

Glancing between themselves, both men burst out into a cruel laughter and their movements were quick as they descended on her. Fingers already trembling, it was easy for them to wrestle the metal from her hands and pin her to the floor; their much larger bodies easily holding her knees apart as they pressed them to the floor with their own legs.

Rough hands fished inside her tank top and Lucy found herself unable to do much but bare her teeth and fight off a sob as her chest was pulled free of her bra; breasts spilling over the fabric as matching grunts of approval escaped her attackers.

"They'll do nicely. Fuck, might not even sell this one, what do you think?" The one named Petey asked, his free hand gripping at her chin painfully as he tilted her head to the side in a crude inspection.

Cupping her left breast as though weighing it in his hand, the other man flashed a yellow smile at her.

"Could play with her for a few weeks without going to the others. Would you like that? A few weeks with us and then a ten minute walk up north to meet the rest of the boys?"

Refusing to answer as a fat tear rolled free of her eye, Lucy chose to remain quiet and not give them anything as she struggled in vain.

"You owe us for you did to Owen." The second man continued, his face an open leer as he released her jaw. "So I'm gonna fuck you and then Petey is gonna fuck you and then we're both gonna fuck you. Then you're gonna open those pretty lips wide for-"

"No."

A sharp hand collided with the side of Lucy's face, the blow catching her across the mouth and bursting her lip open in an instant as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.

"Not asking, cunt."

Their hands were all over her, one set fondling her breasts while the other pulled at the hem of her tank top to expose her stomach. They were everywhere and the feeling of them, hot and heavy atop her body, made her feel sick - her throat constricting and panicking as her breaths came short and fast.

The vague sound of the door slamming open touched at her senses but it felt so far off that she didn't think much of it until all hell broke loose.

A fresh splatter of blood sprayed across her face, the sensation matching by a booming gunshot which made her ears ring in the small space as the taller of the two, Petey, collapsed dead atop her - a hole leaking blood and brains from the front of his forehead to her exposed chest.

In shock, both Lucy and the remaining man stared at the corpse for a second before Lucy felt half the weight on her body disappear as the final attacker was pulled free. Her eyes unfocused and blurred with tears, she saw the flash of familiar, tattered leather which hurled her would-be attacker against the wall.

Sounds of exertion were quickly followed by a fresh death gurgle as Cooper's knife flashed in his hand for only a second before being drawn across her attackers throat; the arterial spray swiftly coating Cooper's clothed chest as he let go of his prey and allowed the fresh body to drop to the floor.

Not trusting her eyes, Lucy tilted her head back and cast her gaze to the dingy ceiling as her thoughs spiralled into a messy haze.

After a moment, Cooper's face swam in her vision and the close sight of him sparked a myriad of emotions within her; shock giving way to genuine relief before settling on fear as she took in the genuine fury which blazed in his stark white eyes as they darted across her battered face and disjointed clothing.

He wasn't angry with her, she knew that, but the sheer rage which rolled from his coiled frame made her want to curl into a ball and hide away from it. He smelled of leather and blood, the scent of fresh violence making her nose twitch as the corpses of her attackers lay motionless, crowding the floor of her cell.

"S'alright, I got you, sweetie." Cooper's hands were firm but gentle as he wrapped them around her shoulders, hoisting her enough that she were able to lean against the wall in a sitting position.

Despite everything, his voice was like a balm and she relaxed into his touch as her trembling fingers were gripped within his own - his knife glinting once more as he quickly severed her bindings and let the rope fall to the floor. In an instant, her knees snapped to her chest as her arms looped around them, her body curling in on itself as a wave of nausea made her throat feel tight.

Still on his haunches before her, Cooper studied her for a solid moment before matching her position as he leaned against the opposite wall, his legs outstretched and his back straight against the cool stone.

"Fix yourself, darlin'. I'd offer but I don't think you want another monsters hands on you before the day's out."

Keeping her knees tight, Lucy brought trembling fingers to her chest - her relief at being saved having made her forget about her state of undress - and she tucked her breasts away back into the off-white bra with a lifeless motion, the skin feeling sensitive and sore due to their abuse. Made decent, her arms were quick to loop around her knees once more, her chin sitting atop her knees as a gloomy, far-off expression graced her features.

"Did they-" A half question which Cooper quickly thought better of as he abandoned ship and adjusted it on the fly. "You okay?" It was a quiet ask, the words so low that Lucy knew she could ignore them if she wanted to.

"No," she stuttered, feeling weary despite the adrenaline which still pulsed in her veins, "but I have to be because what else is there. So I have to be."

Making a small noise of agreement in his chest, Cooper's gaze rose to the ceiling as he plucked his hat from his head and dropped it to the floor by his open lap.

"That you do, darlin'. Nothing else for it."

They sat in silence for a bit, the only slightly pained sounds coming from Lucy's throat as she adjusted to the various aches which afflicted her body. Her face was the worst as her temple throbbed like a bitch and her burst lip felt huge and ugly against her mouth. The bodies forever doomed to lay in messy piles, Lucy's eyes ghosted over them and settled on the growing patches of blood which each steadily leaked to the cell floor.

"You killed them all?" She said, already knowing the answer and unsure why she even asked.

"Not all of them. One of them was already dead when I got here and I'd recognise the teeth marks in that hunk of ripped tongue anywhere." Despite the guarded nature of his tone, there was a spark of warmth as he flashed his, well, her, finger at her, and Lucy swore she heard the slightest hint of pride leaking through. "You did good, sweetheart. You fought like a hellcat and you didn't let them win."

"Didn't win." Lucy mumbled miserly. "You did."

"Oh, I have no doubt you would have gotten them both in the end. They might have taken a few strips from you, but that fire in your belly would have scorched them dry."

Mouth upturning at the praise as she fought off the urge to cry, Lucy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her breathing quickly grew erratic.

"All these bullshit lessons you've put me through and it still wasnt enough." She blurted out with a desperate gasp. "They're evil. I hate it here. I hate their cruelty. I hate their hurting. I hate-"

Finally unable to hold back the swell of emotion which threatened her, Lucy broke off on the final word as a heaving sob replaced any chance she had of cohesive speech. It was something raw and unfiltered, mourning the loss of some part of herself that would never be returned as she was forced to mold herself into a creature of violence and hate just to survive in their world.

Cooper, to his credit, let her cry without any false sympathies or interference. His face lacked any judgement, the hole in his face flexing slightly as he inhaled and exhaled steadily, eyes never shifting from Lucy's sobbing frame. Something difficult to pin down flashed through his gaze as though a multitude of possible outcomes were pushing at his thoughts.

After some internal debate, a grunt slipped free of Cooper's lips as he leaned across the short space and pulled at Lucy's shoulder.

So lost in her own misery, Lucy didn't fight the pressure of his strong hand as he pulled her to the side, dropping her to the floor in such a way that her head pressed against the upper part of his legs as she faced away from him. It did nothing to stop her tears, but it did give her something to lean on as he immediately retracted his hand to fold his arms fully across his chest.

Cooper's thighs were like unyielding steel beneath her head, giving Lucy something solid to pin her senses on as she fought to quell the quiver of her lip and the shudders which continued to wrack her body. Their journey had been hard and the hunt for her father was a disaster of interference and dead trails of information.

This was just the latest set-back in a long list of utter shit.

Offering her no other physical support, unsure if it would cause her to act out or break down further, Cooper waited until her breathing was a little more even before speaking again.

"Be sad." He paused, allowing the rare piece of advice to sit heavily in the air between them. "Be angry. Feel that fire in your gut burn so hot that you get the fear it's gonna burst free and raze everything around you to the ground. Hell, curse the day your momma brought you into the world if that's how you feel. But don't break."

Stopping once again, Cooper felt a rare moment of genuine pity for the woman as he glanced down at her. Lucy Maclean, who foolishly tried to choose peace in a peaceless world, still had a lot of learning to do when it came to the way that same world worked.

He could only show her so much, some lessons had to be learned the hard way, and if she could take them, then he would do his part to keep her whole.

"Whatever they do to you, survive it. Skulk off, lick your wounds, come back stronger. Get that revenge your blood sings for." Speaking as much to himself as her, Cooper allowed her a peek into his own thoughts, an insight he knew she wouldn't fully understand quite yet. "Never let them break you. Better off dead than broken in this world."

Gathering herself enough to shakily speak, Lucy gripped Cooper's knee with clawing fingers as she clung to him like a lifeline.

"There's more of them. Ten minutes up north. That's who they were- who they were going to sell me to."

"More side-tracking bullshit." Cooper sighed but his voice grew more contemplative as his gravelled tones mused on her words. "That said, been a while since I hunted down some proper vermin. No bounty. No rules. Might be fun to let loose for once."

He let the idea hang in the air, curious if she was hinting at what he suspected she was.

"You coming with me?"

"Yeah."

Unseen by the shaking Lucy, a pleased smile split Cooper's lips as he glanced down at her steady answer.

It wasn't often he took on a companion, far less one that he'd actually indulge, but the odd woman intrigued him with the hypocrisy of her very existence. A vaultie with a edge, naive blood screaming out for wrongs to be righted just like his own as she fought alongside him like a harpy.

It did help that they both wanted her dear old daddy strung up like the traitor he were.

But revenge would see her right.

She was owed a debt by those who had tried to take her, a debt of honor, and he would see that she avenged it in a glorious explosion of violence that would help keep her nightmares at bay as they would leave no doubt that the beasts responsible were well put down and unable to haunt her.

By gun or by knife, she would get at least that.

He had seen the broken ones. The ones used and abused by so many across the wastelands that they gave up everything and became husks even more devoid of humanity than the ghouls who lost the battle and went feral. It was a fate worse than the many deaths he'd experienced in his time.

No one deserved that.

Especially not Lucy Maclean.

His hand ghosting over her head, fingers only an inch away from her fine head of mousy hair, Cooper tilted his head to the side as he took her exhausted frame in.

"Sleep for now, vaultie. Time for this little killer to save her strength. So take it for what it is and when you wake, we'll see about righting some of the wrongs that happened here."

Feeling more safe with the violent ghoul who had shown her the new reality of her world than any other of the awful creatures she had met since leaving her vault, Lucy's eyes fluttered close as his voice washed over her and exhaustion claimed her before she could do anything to muse on that odd feeling of safety.

Links to the rest of the series:

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[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.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Antonio Dawson x Reader

Antonio is sick of seeing how Kelly drags your heart around

Companion piece to Never Thought

“She’s replacing Shay! There is no way possible I am ever going to like her!” That was the first thing Antonio ever heard about you from Gabby. He knew there was a new paramedic coming in after Shay’s death. Fifty one had gone through a few temps and none of them had really been a good fit, apparently Boden had found one he thought would work. “Give her a chance” he’d told his sister. He understood the gap of losing a partner, a friend but she very well couldn’t ride solo the rest of her career also.

One week later Gabby had a smile on her face when she was talking about the fact that someone had gotten aggressive with her on a call and you’d kept a smile on your face as you’d tripped the guy down the doorsteps then with all the sincerity in the world had told him “Oh no sir. It appears you’ve hurt yourself. Do you need to be checked out as well”  “What happened to never liking her?” he teased and Gabby shrugged “She’s not what I expected honestly. I think she’s gonna fit in” 

You were at fifty one for exactly one month the first time Antonio met you. Adam had caught a round to his vest but considering the bruising already spreading under it Voight wanted him ran to Med to make sure it wasn’t a collapsed lung like Kevin had happened once. When the ambulance pulled up Gabby hopped out and you followed. You were in work mode but still smiled up at him as Gabby said “Oh yeah, this one is my brother�� “Nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you” he had to remind himself it wasn’t polite or professional to stare at the pretty paramedic, especially considering it was his sister’s partner and his partner was currently her patient.

“Nice to meet you too” he replied and you winked at him “See ya around Dawson” before you and Gabby loaded Adam in the rig and rolled off. Yeah, maybe he was hooked from then but it was too soon after his divorce and you weren’t even settled yet.

The longer you worked with Gabby the more her talking about you shifted from sounding like shop talk to her talking about her friend. It also meant he started getting to know you better.  You were smart as hell, damn near fearless and didn’t hesitate to run into danger even when you were scared if someone else was at risk. You had a weird sense of humor, loved strong coffee and sang along with Gabby to damn near every song on the radio. 

He watched you heal his sister’s heart as you worked your way into his. He couldn’t admit anything of course. You were his friend and sometimes that was even better because he got to see every side of you. 

You would show up in tow with Gabby, half drunk and giggly. You’d pop up to help wrangle his kids when he had them for the weekend and when he worked late a time or two he’d come in to you, Gabby and the kids all asleep in his living room floor in a blanket fort despite the fact that the kids were tiptoeing into their teens.

When intelligence would work a scene with CFD he’d find him having to catch not only his sister with her temper but you as well a time or two. You’d hold your tongue but if Gabby ever jumped? You were swinging without a second thought to back her up.

When you called him because there was a guy that wouldn’t leave you alone he took it upon himself to find the guy. He started coming by to follow you home every night just to make sure you got in your apartment ok. Then one night the guy was dumb enough to be waiting in the parking garage of your complex. He’d ended up cracking the guy’s cheek in two places and got him arrested.

He found himself falling for you but by the time he fully realized that it was too late. You were with Kelly Severide.

“Kelly isn’t treating her right” Antonio cut his eyes up at Gabby. “I know Severide wouldn’t ever lay his hands on a woman so what are we talking here?” she shrugged “He won’t commit to her. He flirts with other women constantly. He does everything shy of physically cheating then sweet talks his way with false promises back into her bed, using her heart against her” 

“What do you want me to do? If I say something and she stays with him, I’m the asshole trying to break them up” Antonio told her and she smiled slightly “Maybe, just maybe if she was faced with the fact that she has much better options available she’d kick his ass to the curb”

He shook his head “I am not telling her I have feelings for her” “Come on, don’t be a coward!” she teased and he shook his head “I’m not that kind of man” she crossed her arms, glaring at him “But you are the kind to see the woman you’ve been head over heels for get her heart dragged through the mud by some playboy while you’re sitting here wanting her and would treat her right?”

“And if she ever figures out he’s an idiot I’ll be right here” he replied and she threw up her hands in frustration “You are both idiots!”

Antonio walked into Mollys with intentions to just have a beer, hang out for a little while then head home. That was until he spotted you with his sister and her husband. He headed for the three of you “There’s my favorite paramedic” 

His sister turned first so he grinned “Oh, you’re here too Gabby” and she shook her head then you cut your eyes back at him “Hey Antonio” he smiled but when he met your eyes he knew something was wrong  “Cariño, what is wrong?” “Nothing” you answered a little too fast. He looked towards Gabby who looked across the bar so he followed her line of sight to see Kelly sitting close enough to some brunette they looked like they were on the verge of fucking right there in the bar. He felt anger flicker to life in him. He’d been holding back from you, biting his tongue for that? “Isn’t he dating you?” he asked, looking back at you and felt his heart crumple just a bit when you dropped your eyes to not look at him or Gabby “We’re not really dating” Gabby cursed under her breath but without meaning to he found himself laughing a bit “Good” 

Your eyes flew up to his “Good?” he nodded then cut his eyes at Gabby, letting her know he was taking her advice finally. She grabbed Matt’s hand and told you “Holler if you need me babe” then the two of them walked off.

You watched them then looked back at him “What?” he felt a smile slip onto his face “If you’re not really dating Severide then it shouldn’t really be an issue if I tell you I am so tired of seeing that man steal your smile” “Huh?” you asked, confusion plain on your face and god you looked fucking adorable. He nodded to the stool Gabby had been sitting on “Can I sit?” 

You nodded so he sat down, resting his hand next to yours on the bar and letting one finger trace over your knuckles gently “Gabby has told me a couple things. Don’t get mad at her, it’s just because she cares about you” and god knows his sister did. She fucking loved you. You nodded slowly, your eyes following the trail of his fingers before asking “What has she told you?” your voice was so small compared to normal he found himself lowering his own voice as he responded  “How Kelly has been dragging your heart through the mud”

You finally brought your eyes up to meet his and he smiled “You deserve much better than that. If he won’t commit to you, if he won’t see that there is a gorgeous amazing woman right here then he doesn’t deserve your attention and damn sure doesn’t deserve your heart. I’m not going to ask you out tonight because I’m not the type of man to take advantage of a bad situation but if you decided you’ve had enough and want someone that would want you and only you, I’d love to take you out sometime when you’re ready”

For a few heartbeats he was nervous he’d fucked up a friendship until you smiled “Will you walk me home?” he nodded “Of course” then stood to offer you his hand. You shivered as you stood so he looked around for your jacket “You didn’t bring a jacket?” You shook your head “I forgot one”  He slipped his jacket off and motioned for you to turn around “You don’t have to” you said and that alone, the fact that giving you his jacket when you were in a short sleeve and could see he was in a long sleeve was making you get all flustered made him want to knock Severide flat on his ass.

“I know” he told you and you finally turned to let him help you slip the jacket onto your arms. He had to admit, seeing you in it..you looked gorgeous in it.

“Now, come on. I’ll let my sister know I’m taking her partner home then if it sounds good I’d like to take you and Gabby out for breakfast tomorrow” you smiled “I’d like that”

_____________________

You and Antonio had just made it outside when he heard Kelly call your name and braced himself for a fight. He stepped to the side, letting you say whatever you felt the need to Kelly. This was your ballgame. “What Kelly?” you asked and Kelly looked between you and him “I look up to see you leaving the bar with him”

Ok that implication alone pissed Antonio off. “She asked me to walk her home” he spoke up and Kelly had the nerve to wave a hand dismissively towards him “Wasn’t talking to you” “You know what Severide” he took a step with every intention to see rather or not he could put the fireman flat on his ass but you slid between them at the last moment, a hand on both of their chests. “We are not doing this! Kelly repeat what you just said”

Kelly looked from your hand that was on his chest to your hand that was on Antonio’s “I looked up to see you leaving the bar with him” you nodded “You looked up because I was there for a good twenty minutes or more. The entire time you were so far wrapped up in another woman you never noticed me”

“We were just talking” Kelly defended and it took everything in Antonio to not laugh in the other man’s face. That was no damn excuse. You cut your eyes at Antonio “Give us a minute please?” so he nodded and took a few steps away but could still hear you as you said “Kelly do you think you could ever love me? Commit to just me fully?” he wanted to interrupt and tell you he could. He could easily see himself falling for you and just one word and he would be one hundred percent yours but he kept his mouth closed. 

After a long moment of silence stretched out you nodded “That’s what I thought. Now Antonio is going to walk me home and you’re free and clear to go in there and do more than talk with the gorgeous brunette ok?”  “Baby” Kelly finally managed and you sighed “Tell me you’ll stop flirting with other women..stop taking it so far that you do everything shy of physically cheating and mean it and I’ll come in the bar with you” “I can try to change” Kelly whispered and you shook your head “If you really wanted to there would be no effort required” 

Antonio found himself being so damn proud of you just for standing up for yourself. You never had to give him a chance. Just being able to witness you finally seeing your worth meant everything. You turned around to him and held out your hand “Dawson, walk me home?” he slipped his hand into yours and the two of you left Kelly standing on the sidewalk.

That following morning when Antonio pulled up to your apartment to pick you up to have breakfast with him and Gabby he saw something he hadn’t seen in a long time when you came out to his truck. You had a genuine smile on your face.

You slid into the passenger seat, cutting your eyes at him “Good morning” he nodded “Morning” when he pulled out onto the road you started messing with the radio dials and before long was humming along with the song. “Go ahead” he told you and a grin split your face before you started singing along and he found himself joining in.  You were so damn beautiful and looked relaxed for the first time in too damn long.

_______________________

It took a couple weeks before you were ready. Antonio was patient, he’d waited this long wasn’t like he was going anywhere now. You called him one day after you got off shift and asked if you two could grab dinner at the place down from your apartment complex. He’d agreed because why the hell wouldn’t he?

When he pulled into the parking lot you were standing next to your car and smiled when you saw him. The moment he stepped out of his truck you walked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. He froze at first, the moment having caught him off guard but the shock quickly wore off. He had you in his arms, finally. He was kissing you. His hands went to your hips, pulling you closer as he took control of the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours, a light noise leaving you that was nothing shy of heavenly. When the two of you started to pull apart you laughed lightly “Does that offer still stand of wanting me and only me?”

He nodded, forehead pressed to yours “Of course Cariño” and you smiled “I’d like to be yours now Antonio” “Good because I’ve been yours for some time mi amor”

The day Antonio figured out just how deeply in love he was with you was when he got a call you and Gabby were in med. Apparently some stupid son of a bitch had run your rig off the road. He was outside of a house preparing to go in but one look at Voight and he nodded “Get to your girls”

He wanted to check on his sister of course but seeing the line of staples on your head, it filled him with fear and anger. “Baby” he cooed, coming to sit next to you on the bed and you curled up on his chest “I’m ok. We’re ok” he nodded “You two scared the hell out of me” and you cut your eyes up at him when you realized he was in full gear “Did you leave a raid?” he nodded “Of course. I get a call my sister and the woman I love is hurt, nothing is stopping me from getting to you”

The smile you gave him made his heart threaten to burst out of his chest “I love you Antonio. So damn much” he pulled you against his chest “I love you too” that weekend he got Gabby to go shopping with him. Who better to help pick out an engagement ring than your best friend? 

[freakingholland]

"Sofa chronicles" - Jason Todd x gn!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 (reader), 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 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.