#and she tries to remedy this by feeling needed

[grinchwrapsupreme]

One thing Being Human does really well is show the different ugly ways trauma can manifest - anger, sadness, becoming convinced of things that aren't true - and how conflicting traumas can result in actively hostile relationships

[grahamcarmen]

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has a plan of action, but he needs to make sure you're a little distracted before he can proceed.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, 18+

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Today was exhausting," you whispered, pulling your legs up so you were sitting on Bradley's lap on the couch. His flight suit was a little scratchy, and you were still wearing your dress, but you yawned and nuzzled against his chest in surrender. "Please don't make me move yet."

You could feel and hear his laughter as one big hand came up to squeeze your shoulder before gliding down your side to your waist. "Make you move? I want to keep you with me forever, Gorgeous."

Did he know the extent to which his words excited you every time he said forever? You tried to play it cool, wrapping your arm around his waist, but as soon as his lips met your forehead in a gentle kiss, you whispered, "Forever sounds really good."

His posture stiffened a little bit as his fingers flexed on your waist. You could feel him fighting the urge to jump to his feet with you in his lap.

"What's wrong?" you asked, stifling another yawn.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, but you could tell he was antsy. "Just getting hungry."

"Of course you are," you murmured, letting your hand rest on his flat belly. He only took a quick lunch break earlier during Career Day before pulling off the flyover surprise that had your whole school buzzing with excitement. "I don't think you ate enough today. Let's remedy that."

"No," he insisted, pulling you back down when you tried to stand. "I can wait a bit longer. We were just getting comfortable."

"Mmm," you hummed. "Did you notice Marty and Ms. Masters earlier? I think there might be something there."

"I did notice," he whispered. "There has to be something there. He was looking at her the way I look at you."

With a smile on your lips, you felt yourself succumbing to the warmth of his body and his deep voice and his big hands.

Soon your eyes were closed, and you were drifting to sleep.

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

Bradley's growling stomach was the least of his concerns as you dozed in his arms and drooled on his Golden Warriors patch. You were clearly exhausted from how busy and emotional this week was. He'd only just returned from a mission where you and he hadn't spoken for weeks, and then you hosted Career Day at work. Hell, he was still tired, and he'd taken the week off from work.

He thought he had himself under control. He thought he would be able to bring you home and let you have a relaxing Friday night. After all, he was in no hurry. But as soon as you told him forever sounded really good, he felt his muscles coil with anticipation. His body told him to get up and prove to you that forever was what he needed. All he had to do was walk into the bathroom and get the engagement ring.

You seemed to be able to feel the energy he was trying to reel in even as you started to fall asleep. Tonight was not the night. Truly all he wanted to do was hold you until tomorrow morning and let you rest, but his foot was bouncing gently. There was always the chance you'd say no or that you weren't ready to be engaged yet, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. But previous conversations indicated otherwise, and he knew he was ready for everything.

His head tipped back against the couch in frustration. He should have told Nat that he wanted to propose sooner rather than later, but she didn't even know he actually had his mother's ring. His best friend would have riled him up more before helping him calm down.

After kissing your forehead a few times to test how asleep you were, he unzipped the side pocket of his flight suit and carefully removed his phone. You shifted a bit, and your nose twitched in the most adorable way, but you dozed on while he texted Nat to see if she could help him out tomorrow. She already told him numerous times that she liked hanging out with you.

"Bradley," you mumbled, arching your back and stretching as soon as he set his phone down on the couch. "You need dinner," you told him with a soft kiss before standing and reaching for him. He took your left hand in his right one, hoping this might be the last night that you weren't wearing the ring that would signify to everyone else that you'd be his wife someday.

"I came up with a plan while you napped," he said softly. "Dinner and then a shower together and then we'll get in bed early. You look so tired after nailing Career Day, Gorgeous. You need a little break."

His stomach growled obnoxiously. "And you need to eat," you told him with a laugh. "Come on. I'll make you something."

"Nope," he replied, gripping you tight as he stood up with you in his arms. "I'm going to take care of it."

You held on as you guided your legs around his waist. Your lips on his scarred cheek took him all the way back to the early days of those flirtatious emails. "Okay, handsome," you whispered, kissing him softly. "I'm not going to argue with you tonight. It's our first weekend with you back home, and I've been missing all of this. I'm finally off tomorrow, and we can relax all day."

When Bradley set you down on the kitchen counter with a kiss to your perfect lips, he heard your phone vibrating on the coffee table and tried not to grin as he asked, "Want me to grab that for you?"

"Please," you replied, looking beyond cute perched between the stove and the wilted bouquet in the makeshift Miller High Life vase. When he backtracked and picked up your phone, Bradley saw that the text notification was from Nat, and he knew he was going to have to take her out for another steak dinner soon as a thank you.

"Oh," you said when you tapped your screen. "Natasha texted me."

"Really?" he asked, feigning surprise as he took inventory of what the refrigerator had to offer. It was honestly a little scary how much he'd eaten since Monday.

"Yeah," you murmured, eyes skimming the message. "She thanked me for inviting her to Career Day. And," you added, giving him a cautious look, "she wants to know if I want to hang out with her tomorrow afternoon. We still have money left on the winery gift card."

"You should go," he urged, pulling everything out to make pancakes for dinner. "I love that my girl gets along with my best friend."

You were chewing your lip nervously. "Yeah?" you asked, thumbs poised like you were ready to type back. "Even though I literally just told you I can't wait to relax with you tomorrow?"

Bradley chuckled, knowing he was leading you in the direction he wanted you to go. But of course you'd be in good hands. "Gorgeous, we can still sleep in late. And as soon as you get home, I'm hoping you'll feel so in love, you'll want to cuddle with me for the rest of the night."

"I always feel so in love with you, Bradley."

He abandoned the eggs and butter as he whispered, "Say my name again?"

"Bradley."

It was another hour before the pancakes were ready.

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

"I thought we were going to sleep in," you whispered, lips brushing Bradley's as his hands explored your naked body. It was around the time you usually woke up for work, and you were still tired. But his words had you pushing him onto his back.

"I missed you so much, I'm still making up for lost time."

His hands were big and rough as you took them in yours and pinned them above his head. His body was beautiful in the early light, all muscular angles and ruddy cheeks. You kissed his biceps and then his stubbled cheek and then his lips. He was already hard, you could feel him. Bradley was strong and sexy, and he was yours.

"I'm not going to lie... I love how much you missed me," you told him before kissing your way along the side of his nose. "Because that's how much I missed you, too."

Bradley's kisses were sweet, yet they lingered. Your hips moved slowly against his body, setting the pace exactly how you wanted it. Your reaction to him was always effortless. His wide pupils let you know it was the same for him. 

"Baby," he whined as you tightened your hold on his wrists. He was rubbing himself up against you, looking for the friction you needed as well. Slick with arousal, your pussy welcomed the tip of him, and you rolled your hips slowly, taking him inch by inch until you were full. "Oh, fuck, Gorgeous," he rasped, lips parted as he looked up at you with those pretty brown eyes. "You feel so good."

You went slowly, and your hands eventually found their way to his shoulders. Bradley coaxed you closer until you were kissing him as you worked your hips in a steady rhythm that you knew would give you both what you wanted. You thought about every cold morning you woke up here without him while a bead of sweat rolled down along your spine. You got lost in the way he smelled and how his hair felt between your fingers. He was yours.

"I love you," he groaned. "Oh, I love you so much."

You came on his cock as your movements turned jerky, and he filled you with cum as you whimpered his name. Then you eased your body down so you were laying on top of him. "This is how I want to spend the rest of my life," Bradley whispered. "Loving you and fucking you and cuddling."

With a soft laugh, you relaxed enough to fall asleep again while he ran his fingers along your back.

The next time you woke up, it was three hours later, and Bradley wasn't in bed. He wasn't even at home. After you pulled on his sweatshirt, you found a note on top of the sandwich he made for your lunch in the refrigerator. 

Out for a quick run with Nat, and then I'm stopping at Home Depot for Edith. I love you.

You enjoyed your sandwich quietly in the kitchen while taking inventory of the grocery situation. Bradley already ate everything which made you smile. It would take a few weeks, but you'd make sure he bulked up again. Maybe you could get him to go shopping with you tomorrow morning.

When you sat down on the couch with your phone, you were pleasantly reminded of how sore you still were from the past few days with Bradley back from deployment. The gentle ache brought with it the memory of how much better your orgasms were with him than alone. You really needed to start getting dressed since you were sure Nat was going to want to head to the winery after they finished their run, but you stayed sprawled out on the couch until Bradley walked back inside.

"Hey, Gorgeous," he rasped, still a little sweaty in his gym clothes and carrying a bag from the hardware store. "You got enough rest?"

"I did," you giggled as he tossed the bag onto the coffee table and straddled your waist. "Do you think we should buy a bigger couch at some point?"

"Nah. This one's more fun," he replied as your fingers threaded through his damp hair. "Means I can get nice and close." 

Would this needy feeling for him ever go away? You hoped not. But just as soon as he really kissed you nice and hard, he was pulling away. Bradley smacked you lightly on your rear end where he spanked you the other night.

"You better get ready to go with Nat. And I need to fix Edith's mailbox and get my free piano lesson."

"And then when I get home, we're cuddling and watching a movie right here," you told him firmly, patting the couch cushion.

"As long as you still want to."

You rolled your eyes. Of course that's what you were going to want to do. Maybe you and he could even enjoy some more wine after you had wine with his friend. You were smiling as you thought about the plethora of wine you might be enjoying today as you got dressed in some jeans and an oversized sweater. You skipped makeup, because it was Saturday, and when Natasha arrived, you walked outside with Bradley.

"I love you. Call if you need me," he crooned, kissing you and waving before turning toward Edith's house.

You must have been watching the sexy way he walked for a little too long, because Natasha honked her horn and yelled out the window, "I want some wine!"

"Sorry!" you told her, laughing as you climbed in the passenger seat.

She was pulling away from the curb when she replied, "It's nice to see you so happy again. You seemed to have a good time at Career Day, and now you're all smiles for your boyfriend."

"I missed him so much," you said, watching Bradley get smaller in the side view mirror as she drove. "I felt instantly better when he got home from Norfolk."

"You're going to freak out later," she mumbled, making a left turn.

"What?" You weren't sure you'd heard her correctly.

"Nothing. You ready for some wine?"

"Absolutely. We can finish off the gift card," you told her. "And I found another winery for us to try next time that serves frozen wine slushies."

"That sounds like heaven. Thank god you fell in love with Bradley so we can have girls' days."

That put a permanent smile on your face. Just knowing that Natasha thought you and he were a good match really meant a lot. She'd known him for a long time.

"How was your run earlier?" you asked, settling in for the ride.

"Running in February is always better than running in July or August," she replied easily. "I might have to start bringing headphones again though, because the man will not shut up about you the whole time."

You covered your face with your hands while she laughed. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It was so bad at times before he met you, I used to have to put my earbuds in and pretend I was listening to him complain about his exes. It was always the same thing. Nat, I don't know how to break up with her, but she's kind of mean to me. Nat, I can't keep taking her to the bar, because she flirts with everyone else. Nat, why is she being so selfish? Nat, I feel like she's just using me. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat." Her voice softened as she said, "It's not like that with you at all. Now he just wants to know if I think his date ideas sound stupid or romantic. And if I think he's crazy for already having you move in."

"What did you tell him?" you asked immediately.

She grinned as she switched lanes. "Trust me when I say I've given him some solid date ideas. And I told him he would have been miserable if he waited any longer to ask you to live with him. That man is so solidly in love with you, it is disgusting."

"The feeling is mutual," you whispered as your cheeks burned.

"I know. Now let's enjoy some wine while we talk shit about him. I've been way too nice today up to this point."

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

When Natasha dropped you off after four hours of wine and conversation, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You were already looking forward to hanging out with her again soon.

"Want me to tell Bradley you'll run with him tomorrow morning?" you asked, leaning back in the passenger side door as you stood next to her car.

"Nope," she replied, shaking her head. "There's no way he's going to want to get up and run in the morning. Tell him I'll see him at work."

"Okay," you replied, confused by her thought process. Bradley usually liked getting his cardio workouts in with a partner rather than alone. You'd follow up with him about it in a minute. "Thanks for driving. Wine slushies next time?"

"Wine slushies next time. Enjoy your night," she said with a wink.

You waved as she drove off, the sky getting dark and the air cooling down even further around you. Edith's mailbox next door looked perfect once more, so Bradley must have finished that project. You shivered as you hustled up to your front door ready to get inside and into the warmth of his arms.

The living room was a little darker than usual when you walked in, and then you realized it was because the only light was coming from your candles which had been placed around the room. You were about to call out for Bradley and ask him why he was burning every single candle you brought with you when you moved in, but then you froze.

"Oh my god," you gasped, taking one stumbling step further into the room to get a closer look. The flickering light illuminated dozens and dozens of paper airplanes all folded up and taped to the dark blue wall above the couch. They were arranged beautifully, and you swallowed hard when you realized they spelled out a message.

MARRY ME?

It was just two words, but they took up the whole wall. Your fingers were shaking as you brought them up to your lips, and then you heard Bradley's voice.

"Hey, Gorgeous," came that familiar rasp. You turned to face him as he stood there in one of his tropical print shirts and his worn out jeans with a nervous smile on his face.

"Bradley?" You glanced at the wall and then back at his face. You weren't even sure if your words were intelligible as you muttered, "Paper planes?"

His smile widened. "It's all the letters you and your class sent to me. You know... when you were looking for a Naval aviator to write back and answer a few questions? I guess a few questions turned into a lot more than that. And a simple correspondence with a gorgeous fourth grade teacher soon made me realize that you're the woman of my dreams. My pen pals changed my whole life." He nodded toward the wall. "Your students helped me fold them up yesterday."

"They did?" you managed as he took a step closer until he was right in front of you, and then and sank down onto one knee. 

"They did." He was all vulnerable brown eyes and sincerity as he looked up at you and said, "I love you. And I have something for you, Gorgeous." He swallowed hard. "It was my mom's." He held up his right hand, fingers curled in a loose fist. You watched as he carefully unfurled them, revealing a ring resting on his palm. "I want you to have it. Unless you don't like it. It's from 1984, and it's definitely vintage, so I won't be upset if you tell me you'd rather have something more modern." He was rambling, but you could barely breathe from the butterflies which were fluttering hard against your ribcage. "Maverick was holding onto her engagement ring for safekeeping. I had no idea until he heard me talking about how desperately I want to marry you."

"Bradley," you gasped, trying to hold back your tears as you sucked in shallow breaths. "Are you serious?"

You'd known him for less than a year, but you never felt this comfortable or safe around another person before. You never felt so loved. When he raised his hand a little higher like he was ready to hand you the ring along with his heart, he said, "I'm serious. You told me forever sounds good to you. It sounds good to me, too. I think we should do it. Will you marry me?"

There was really only one acceptable answer when you knew he belonged with you. When you were certain your future and his matched up perfectly. When there was no chance you could love anyone else like you loved him.

"Yes."

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

Yes. Yes. Yesss! Thanks kiddos, for making it extra special. I don't think any of them will be surprised to find their teacher sporting some new jewelry at school. Bradley plus Gorgeous equals forever.

PART 27

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[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Chika never believed in love, he thought it was pointless and only showed weakness. He had always seen it as an utter waste of time. So he never expected you to walk in his life, his world turning on its axis as he had one tought in mind. He needed to make you his. Character: Takiishi Chika Word Count: 2.3k Contains: Fem!Reader x Takiishi Chika. SMUT. cw: obsessive behavior, stalking, mentions of violence, panty stealing, mentions of male masturbation, p in v, fingering, mentions of baby trapping, honestly the sex is pretty vanilla by my standards. (Not proofread, it's me are we surprised?)

Author's Note: This was a request to do a scenario with enamored Chika. I'm still getting the groove for writing for him since there's so little information on him. But I hope you still enjoy! From what we know I can't really picture him being too much of a romantic so I put a little twist on it, I hope that's okay!! (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)♡

Chika Takiishi wasn’t often excited by anything, something Endo had desperately tried to remedy since he had left Furin.  Showering him with anything he could possibly want, need, or desire. But none of it was ever enough, Endo’s excitement as he showered him in affection and gifts only served to annoy him. Often times to the point of infuriation, punctuating his emotions with his fist. His life had lost its spark, nothing filled him with any sort of thrill. He walked aimlessly next to Endo, he was droning on about something that he couldn’t care less about, in truth he had drowned out his voice ages ago. They had walked into the nail salon, waiting for his nail technician to seat him. His ears picked up on a noise, it was sugary sweet and filled his body with a chill. The sound of a woman’s laughter, something so ordinary, so mundane. So why did it make his face hot? Why did he want to hear more of it? His head turned to the side following the sound, his throat tightened, an odd constricting feeling that made it hard to swallow a lump that formed in his throat. Sitting in the station next to the one he usually sat was a woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Chika never believed in love, he thought it was pointless and only showed weakness. He had always seen it as an utter waste of time, not like anyone could fall in love with someone like him. Well, no one entirely sane anyway. His heart raced in his chest when he looked at her though, what was happening to him? He didn’t even know this woman's name, and yet she already had this much of an effect on him. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he took her in. The sound of his name being called snapping him out of his daze. His face felt hot once more, for once in his life he felt shameful for staring. Snapping his gaze to the call of his name, he glowered at his companion. “Shut up.” He barked, but unlike every other time he had called for Endo to silence himself, this time lacked the usual cold venom that laced his tone. Even Endo was taken aback by the difference in his tone, already noting that Chika’s attention was already diverted back to the woman. The corners of Endo’s lips curled at the enamored look in his eyes.

It had been a week since that encounter, and for some reason, Chika could not wipe you from his mind. It irritated him, you both had never even so much as exchanged a word. But he was waking in the middle of the night, your face and the sound of your voice in his mind as his hands slipped beneath the covers. Endo had been particularly excited the next day, the was more of a bounce to his step than usual as he all but dragged Chika to a café on the other side of town. He was already annoyed, why were they going so far? This wasn’t the café they usually went to, why were they here? It wasn’t until he heard that voice, your voice, call out a welcome that he had unclenched the fist he was prepared to hit the other man with. His eyes alight with mirth as he took you in. He wouldn’t question how Endo had found out where you worked but seeing you again tugged his lips upward in a foreign expression. From the first moment your voice addressed him directly, he was sure that no matter what it took he would make you his.

The two men had become regulars at your café, you often caught the long-haired man’s eyes on you. It made a shiver course through your spine, his golden eyes were so intense you felt like they were looking into your very soul. What you didn’t know was each night as you walked home those eyes were still locked on your form, following behind at a distance. One night in particular you could swear you heard the anguished sounds of screams no too far behind you, only causing you to quicken your pace. Someone had been following you, and that someone wasn’t Chika. His eyes following the man as he followed your route, ill intent in his eyes. In moments Chika was listening to the sounds of his screams, his knuckles and cheek were decorated with the man’s blood. How dare he try and bruise his beautiful rose’s petals. Nothing would happen to you, he would make sure of it.

The next day, Chika spoke the first words other than his order to you, With a blank expression and a bored tone he began to speak. “You should be more careful walking home alone at night.” You blinked, shocked he was not only speaking to you so casually, but mentioning your night time habits. “Excuse me?” Your words came out stuttered, taken aback by his bluntness. He shrugged as if it were the most plain thing in the world. “Someone was following you last night, you should be more careful. I’ll walk you home tonight.” Chika left no room to argue, turning on his heel with his coffee in his hand as he took his usual seat in a booth in the corner, leaving you dumbfounded at his forwardness. Sure enough though, he waited for you outside that night. Ignoring your protests to walk you home as he just began walking in the direction you normally took.

That night was only the first of many. More often than not, Chika insisted upon walking you home, the two of you in comfortable silence as he escorted you safely to the front door of your apartment building. Eventually, you had grown tired of the silence, filling it with the sound of your voice, telling him about your day. He was an excellent listener, committing every word to memory. Oh, that man who was rude to you because you had gotten his coffee order wrong? He remembered him, distinctly he also remembered the way his nose had let out the most satisfying crunch under his fist as he broke it for daring to speak to you that way.

Eventually, you had invited him inside for something to eat one night. His eyes had scanned your dwelling, the scent of you everywhere, he thought he might go crazy. Taking the opportunity of you cooking to excuse himself to the bathroom. His mouth practically watered as he saw your hamper sitting in the room. Plucking your panties from the top of the bin, the fabric still warm from having been on your body all day. Silently slipping them into his pocket before joining you in his dining room for dinner. That night he had the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced, the scent of your cunt on his nose as he all but suffocated himself in the fabric. His head swimming with the thought of how you would taste on his lips, his hand working over his shaft as he pictured the way you would cry out his name as his greedy tongue lapped at your cunt. His back arched off the bed as he fucked his fist, releasing with a loud call of your name that came out muffled against the fabric that covered his face. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue like this, needed desperately to have you.

It was odd for Chika to miss a day, he never missed a day walking you home. You were not sure why, but you were worried about him. Missed his presence. It wasn’t until late that night that there was a knock on your front door. Seeing a glimpse of his brightly colored hair in the peephole you threw the door open. A light gasp falling from your lips as he stood there, face and knuckles covered in blood. You ushered him inside, dragging him to the bathroom. With a damp cloth, you cared for him, wiping the red from his skin. Not asking what happened, only busying yourself with cleaning him. You were so close, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t help it any longer. Large hands gripped your waist, standing to his full height as he captured your lips with his own. The kiss was filled with an intense hunger from the start, his tongue bullying its way past your lips. The kiss was forceful, needy, and filled with desperation. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing as he backed you out of the bathroom and into our joining bedroom.

He lifted you by the backs of your knees with ease, walking you to where you both toppled onto your mattress. He was back on you in moments, arms caging you in as he claimed your lips once more. His mouth set off a trail of kisses until his lips pressed against your ear, breaths panting against the sensitive skin as he spoke. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to have you.” He groaned “I can't tell you how many times I fucked my fist at the thought of it being your cunt. I can't tell you how many times I would stay up at night wishing it was you that I fucked into the mattress. I don't think you understand how desperate I am for you” His words went straight to your cunt, he pressed his lips against your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. Bringing you close to his chest, giving you no chance for escape. Chika took his time, touching you slowly, building up the already heavy tension even more. He wanted to be impatient, he wanted to be selfish and have you in every single way he wanted, but he wasn't going to do that. He wanted to savor the moment, he wanted to take everything you had to give him.

“Takiishi, please.” Came the saccharine sound of your voice, back arching off the bed. Your hips grinding against his own in a desperate search for friction. Well, Chika thought he was going to take his time, but the desperation in your voice left no room for argument. His hand trailed between your legs, tugging your panties to the side with ease. Running his fingertips up the slick, teasing the sensitive nub. His free hand pushed p the loose fabric of your sleep shirt, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room.   Breaking the kiss as he trailed down giving attention to your chest, tongue lolling out of his mouth wrapping around the perked bud keeping eyes trained on your own. The sounds of your moans meeting his ears had his fingers trailing downward, your dripping entrance accommodating two of his long fingers easily as he eased them inside of you. His fingers set a steady pace, the sounds of your squelching heat filling the room, sounds that were just as quickly muffled by the moans that escaped your lips. He continued fingering you, and once he felt if you were prepped enough he pulled back. Relishing in the whine that slips from your lips at the lost of his fingers. Sticking the digits in his mouth he tastes your essence, eyes rolling back as he groaned around his own fingers at your taste.

Chika stands as he strips himself down, eyes locked on you as he watches you admire his form. Crawling back on the bed, his hands coming to your thighs as he nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance. Taking a hold of his length, as he taps your clit a few times with the head of his cock, effectively coating himself in your arousal. His golden eyes bore into your own as his cock probes your entrance. Sinking in, he felt weak, his body shivering harshly at the feeling of your velvety walls suffocating his cock. Groaning out as he tossed his head back, bottoming out. He waited there for a moment, sitting with his cock fully sheathed inside you letting you accommodate his size, resisting the urge to fill you up right then and there. Hands came to your hips as he growled out pulling out to where his tip was just barely visible before slamming right back into you. He sets a rough pace from the start, the feeling of your nails digging into his back mixing pleasure with pain in a way that made his mouth water.

His hand travels between your bodies, his index and middle finger rubbing tight circles as his cock never stops its assault on your cunt, overstimulating you with intense pleasure. He felt your cunt spasm around his cock, his fingers picking up their pace, dropping his mouth to your ear once more. “You gonna come for me bunny? I can feel the way that cute little pussy is strangling my cock, its okay baby go on cum for me wanna feel you camp down on my cock while I fill you to the brim.” He groans, his own coil tightening in his belly. He knew from the moment he sunk into you he wouldn't last long. Having craved this moment for far too long, but he’d hold out, wouldn’t burst until you had. He watched, hovering over you as your eyes rolled back, a loud cry of his name falling from your lips as you were tossed over the edge, walls clamping down on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your release sends him hurtling toward his own, hips slapping violently against yours as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest, as you both lay there catching your breaths he can only hope his seed would stick. Because if you were round with his child there was no escaping him, was there?  

Dividers by saradika-graphics & cafekitsune. Writing & character banner by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓

The Prequel to the "It's a Match!" series.

[ The Teaser! ] || [ Chapter 1 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 600~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

You’ve always found the concept of rebounds hilariously dumb. Every time that trope came up on a romcom or sitcom you were watching, you found yourself rolling your eyes at it.

Then again, everything about how Hollywood portrays break-ups is ridiculous. Sobbing on the couch while eating a pint of ice cream? Putting on your ‘revenge dress’ and showing your ex what they’re missing? All BS… but you guess both of those have a time and a place… But rebounds? 

How can someone think the remedy to a broken heart or a bad break-up is… getting involved with someone else? How can that be healthy at all? You’re at your lowest and most vulnerable and you decide to let someone else in to do more damage? Ridiculous.

That’s why you scoffed and rolled your eyes when your friend Leah suggested it during film night at your flat. “C’mon, you need to get laid!” She said as she bit down on her slice of pizza.

“Oh, please-” You grumbled, slinking down on the couch. “I’m alright by myself, thanks.”

“Pfft, c’mon!” Mia, your other friend, quipped while sitting on a pillow on the floor. “You seriously need to get out of the house and find someone else!”

"No, serious, you do." Leah agreed and nodded. "What happened with that tosser Ethan should not have you isolating youself like this."

“No, thank you. I’m quite alright by myself. Don’t need that extra stress.” You retorted as you reached for another slice of pizza from the coffee table.

“What extra stress?” Leah asked. “There's nothing stressful about it! It’s sex.” She said simply, Mia quickly nodding in agreement.

“The extra stress of going out and talking to people and getting to know them…” You list it off while halfway through chewing your bite of food.

“Oh, sod off! We’re not talking about a date!” Mia quickly said as she pushed your knee lightly with her bottle of Coke.

“Yeah, it’s a shag. You don’t have to meet or talk to a bloke! You just create an account on Tinder or Bumble or something.” Leah added.

You shoot them a look of disbelief. “Oh, I’m not doing that! Are you mental? Those apps are a cesspool! There’s nothing but creeps and losers on there…” You complained.

“See, that’s the mentality of someone who wants a boyfriend out of those apps!” Mia scolded you and nudged your knee again. “If you use it with that intention of course you’ll think every bloke there is a creep. But you’re not going to use it to look for a date! You’ll use it for the same as them: a shag.” She added.

“C’mon! Hand over your phone, let’s create a profile for you!” Leah insisted and stole your phone from your hoodie’s pocket before you even had time to argue, unlocking it and getting to work downloading Tinder.

“I don’t know…” You said, uncertain, as you nibbled on your pizza slice again. “I feel like I’ll get picky and reject all of them once their profile pops on my screen.” You add.

“Then don’t.” Mia said with a shrug while she pushed up onto her knees to peek at your phone screen in Leah’s hand.

“Yeah! Just Swipe Right on all of them! You’re bound to find one that’s worth it that way.” Leah added as she began creating an account for you.

“I don’t know-” You tried saying again, not just uncertain but downright disliking the idea.

“We promise it’ll be fun!” Mia interrupted you. “Just do what we tell you! Swipe right on everyone!” Mia added. “What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”

“Worst-case scenario, you don’t like any of them enough to meet for a shag. So what? Will make no difference on your life as it currently is.” Leah added and leaned herself lightly against you, nudging you with her shoulder.

Thinking for a moment, you end up sighing and smiling. “Fine!” You said, amused. “I guess if nothing else, it’ll give me a confidence boost to have ‘em all dming me.” You joked.

“That’s the spirit!” Mia cheered and wrapped her arms around you. “Now, let’s find some pictures of you looking fit to add to your profile.” She said, causing you all to giggle.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[blacknight1230]

Healing Touches

(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.

poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion

Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.

The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.

The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."

"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.

You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.

"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.

Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.

You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.

Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.

"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.

When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.

You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.

[sparkling-ariaria]

Marauders Era fics I read and want to keep...

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics*Upd: 25.05.2023

Poor bunny by robynlilyblack - Remus x Reader Y/n doesn’t understand why her friends are lying to her every month, so on one full moon she follows them…

The girl with the books by solemnarration- Remus x Reader James and Sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep Remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of Remus’s affection – return his feelings.

Beautiful by acosmis-t - Remus x Reader Comforting insecure Remus.

The gist of it by yellow-berrys - Remus x Reader You’re meeting Remus’ mother for the first time, and it’s overwhelming for her how lovely the house is.

One where he teaches you how to play the Piano by proserpina-magnus - Regulus x Reader

From a distance by still-blue-sky - Regulus x Reader Reader has a major crush on the mysterious Regulus Black and has always observed him from a distance. She never thought that he would feel the same until proven otherwise late at night in the library.

A snake and his little bird by robynlilyblack - Regulus x Reader Y/n has been keeping her relationship with a certain Black brother secret, but when James starts investigating why she's always stealing the map she's in hot water.

Smart cookie by robynlilyblack - Sirius x shy!Reader Sirius needs a tutor for herbology and he happens to be granted the shiest girl in the world to help him, luckily, he happens to love that about her.

Dote on me by yellow-berries - modern!Sirius x Reader You are completely oblivious to the way Sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. But he begs to differ.

Dealbreaker by luveline - Sirius x Reader You work in a bookstore. Sirius keeps finding reasons to need books.

Forbidden words by padfootagain - Sirius x Reader You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pumpkin's father and your lover by justyoursimpleflower - Sirius x Reader Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker.

Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche by acosmis-t - Sirius x Reader

Sirius drabble by sxriusblxck - Sirius x Reader Cuddling with Sirius after a long day spent together.

Still pretty by upsidedownwithsteve - Sirius x Reader Drunk Sirius, something cute and fluffy.

Sirius visits you at work by magicchai - Sirius x Baker!Reader Sirius showing up with flowers for his girl at work when she's having a bad day.

I can't focus because I can't keep you out of my head. by perpetuallydaydreaming - James x Reader 5 times James got distracted because of you.

Gorgeous distraction by gtgbabie0 - James x Reader James trying his best to study while you distract him.

And I love her by dilf-lover99 - James x Reader The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

You'll be in my heart by once-upon-an-imagine - James x Sister!Reader Hurt/comfort with James where a guy is making her very uncomfortable by hitting on her when James wasn’t there.

SB piece by familyvideostevie - grumpy!Sirius x sunshine!Reader Reader gets a phone call from Remus about her boyfriend moping away in a club.

E prometti domani a tutti parlerai di me by littlest-dark-age - Sirius x Reader Soft Sirius making a flower crown for his love.

Regulus dating someone from Hufflepuff by magicchai

Remus' remedy by magicchai - Remus x Reader Remus has the perfect remedy to fix his girlfriend’s migraines.

[roronoacherries]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | roronoa zoro

788 words

content: comfort, fem. reader, sfw, established relationship, reader is sick and zoro is the sweetest boyfriend.

you tried to stay still, tried to be as quiet as possible, but you couldn’t stop turning in bed. and then the tears came. all you wanted to do was rest, but your body was refusing to allow you to.

that was when zoro woke, and you cried a little more because you hadn’t meant to wake him so early too. he’d been on night watch, and was surely as tired as you.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” zoro pulled you closer to him, hearing your sniffles.

“feel like shit.” you cried. you were shivering and sweating at the same time, your head was killing you, your throat felt sore, your nose was runny, and you couldn’t stop crying. and on top of it all you had to be up soon.

“you’re burning up,” zoro whispered, holding a hand to your cheek. “i’ll go get chopper.”

“don’t leave.”

“i’ll be quick.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving to find the doctor. you weren't sure how long he'd been gone and though you knew it couldn't have been long, it felt like an eternity to you. all you wanted to do was sleep. to rest and escape the pain you felt throughout your body. 

instead, all you do was cry and turn and turn and turn in bed. when chopper came in to check on you, you could hardly focus on the words he spoke… but zoro — he clung to each syllable. 

“a tea could help you sleep better. i’ll bring you down a remedy as soon as i can.”

“i’ll bring it,” zoro interrupted. “and i’ll ask sanji to make you a tea, too.” 

his hand rested briefly on your forehead, gently brushing your hair to the side. “i’ll be right back.” 

you muttered a faint, i love you and the swordsman returned the sentiment with a kiss to your temple before stepping out behind chopper. you hated the thought of chopper and sanji being disturbed at this hour for your sake. all because you’d gotten sick and couldn’t sleep. pathetic. 

a fucking pirate and you still couldn’t take care of yourself. the sensible part of you could tell you that you were being ridiculous, that it was alright to depend on others sometimes, but it was hard to ignore the overwhelming voice in your head that was telling you you were being a burden, that chopper and sanji and zoro were losing sleep over you — and god, zoro deserved better. 

he deserved a girlfriend who wasn’t so weak, one who wouldn’t cry from a little fever. he deserved someone who wasn’t going to spiral at 4am because he was sweet enough to bring her tea and medicine and take care of her. 

“aight, sanji sent camel-somethin’ tea and a bowl of almonds and fruit, said it’d help you sleep better… and chopper told me to make sure ya take two spoons of this stuff,” zoro held up a bottle, his arms full as he pushed open the door. “how ya doin?” 

“i love you and i don’t deserve you,” you whined. 

“sanji said the same thing,” zoro said, ignoring your pout and setting everything down on the nightstand before helping you sit up. he pulled up a chair beside you for himself. “he went on about poor y/n and she deserves better than a big oaf taking care of her. he offered to come spoonfeed ya, actually, i could go get ‘im.” 

“no, i think i’m all better now actually…” you smiled, not needing a mirror to know you looked like shit. “but if the big oaf feels like spoonfeeding me, i wouldn’t mind it.”

your boyfriend only rolled his eyes, reaching for the spoon and chopper’s bottle. “two spoons is all you’re getting. open wide, babe.” 

you didn’t know if it was chopper’s medicine, sanji’s tea, or zoro’s hands rubbing circles into your skin, but it didn’t take long before you started to feel better and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “baby, i think i can sleep okay now…” 

zoro took the tea cup from your hands. “want me to sleep next to you?” he hummed, knowing there was something you were leaving unspoken. 

“you’ll get sick.” you whispered. 

“that’s not an answer.” 

“please,” you smiled weakly, wanting nothing more than to rest your head against zoro’s chest and feel the weight of his arms around you. 

you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. 

“it doesn’t matter if i get sick,” zoro said, his eyes closed and his fingers brushing through your hair. “i’ve got a beautiful, sweet girl to take care of me.

i don’t deserve her.” 

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something about zoro putting aside his pride to wake sanji and ask him to make you tea. something about zoro knowing exactly what you need without you saying it. knowing how to comfort you without being too obvious about it. him taking care of you because he knows you’re more than he deserves (and he knows that you don’t think you’re enough) and because you take care of him the same way everyday. something about zoro.

─────────────────────────────

taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme

masterlist | taglist

[norrizzandpia]

hii this is inspired by lando’s trip to Finland, I’d like to request fem reader freezing and lando constantly trying to warm her up! Something fluffy something heartwarming I think would be cute💕

Hi hi i love this!! Hoping to be back for good actually this time yall <3

My Coat, Your Coat (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Warnings: language and like two sexual inference

“It’s cold as shit out here.” Y/n whined, her arms shaking as they hugged her body in an effort to warm up.

Lando, standing beside her, looked down to meet her eyes, smiling softly at her pink cheeks before pulling her into his body, “I’m sorry, love. Although, would this be a bad time to say I told you so?”

What he’s referring to and what has Y/n pouting is the moment they had spent earlier that morning in their hotel room as they got ready for the day. Lando had been zipping up his last layer as Y/n stared at herself in the mirror, holding two coats on hangers and holding them up to her body as she tried to decipher which one she should wear. One coat was significantly thinner than the other and, unfortunately, the thinner one was the cuter one in her own words. Lando had tried to lecture her about what would happen if she wore the thinner one, trying to save his girlfriend from misery, but she hadn’t budged. All she done was roll her eyes and shake her head as Lando spewed off words at her.

“Beauty is pain,” She had said, Lando giggling at her and the inevitable complaining he would have to deal with later. It was a good thing he loved her as much as he did.

Now, as they stood tangled together amidst the snowy mountains, she continued to shake her head, “Yes, this would be a bad time.”

He shrugged, hugging her tighter and resting his head on the side of hers, which was nuzzled in the crook of his neck, “Does this feel better?”

She nodded, her hands in a ball between their chests as Lando’s body swallowed hers.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Lando deep in conversation with their friend in the midst of it all. When he had fallen into talks with someone else other than Lando, he turned back to his girlfriend.

“I have another coat in my backpack, baby. I can go get it if you let me go?” He chuckled, but Y/n just groaned.

She pushed her head up a centimeter, just enough for her eyes to peek up at his, “Can’t you just shimmy over there while still holding me?”

His gloved hands pushed back the hair in her face before he kissed her softly, lips cold as ice yet warming at the touch.

“I’ll be one minute, I swear.” He gave only for her to shake her head once more.

He looked away for a moment, looking back down at her right after, “How about this, you let me get you the coat in my backpack and we take a hot shower when we get back to the hotel.”

His suggestive eyebrows went right over Y/n’s head, “Why would a shower matter to me? I take one everyday. That’s nothing new.”

He dipped his head down so his lips were right above her ear. He whispered, “You would be in the shower, I would be in the shower. I would be doing non-shower things to you.”

Y/n blushed, letting her body detach from Lando’s immediately. The boy laughed at her before moving away, going to rummage through his backpack to look for the extra layers he brought, knowing she would end up needing them.

He pulled the black puffy jacket from his bag as well as a scarf, running back over to her shivering form. She smiled at him as he pulled the coat and scarf around her, situating them on her body in an effort to salvage the outfit she had been so excited to wear. He knew she would still be stubborn about the way her clothes looked even if it risked hypothermia.

She looked down, nodding after a moment, “Much better.”

The jacket was rather oversized on her, coming from Lando’s closet, and the scarf covered the majority of her face, yet she still looked pretty as ever to him. In a moment of fuzziness over her smiling at him, Lando’s hand cradled one side of her face, moving it toward him so he could kiss her temple.

“Glad I could help,” He whispered against her skin.

Y/n giggled, “You’ll be doing a hell of a lot more tonight.”

Lando nodded as if she wasn’t joking around, face stone cold with seriousness, “Hell yeah, I will.”

[vettelsvee]

I DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR WINNING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 2 here

summary: y/n thinks she's sick from f1 traveling stress, but what if that's not the reason of her sickness?

word count: 992

warnings: hints of having sex. mentions of wishing to die (because reader is sick af). use of y/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

It was barely five in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon of the city of Berlin. Sebastian and you, without having been able to rest after the German Grand Prix that had taken place just hours ago, were at the airport of the German capital, ready to head to Hungary, where the next Formula 1 competition would be held.

You were aware that following the lifestyle of a high-level racing driver was not easy. However, you didn't think that getting eight hours of sleep or having free time would become privileges that you would have, in part, during the holiday period. Despite the excitement that filled you every time you embarked on a new destination, you had been feeling unwell for several days, and no matter how hard you tried to remedy it, all you did was worsen it.

Seb, who knew you well enough to know that something was wrong, tried not to make a big deal out of it. He knew that you tended to get sick frequently, although the fact that you was quieter than usual and didn't have as much energy as usual started to worry the blonde who, at the moment of takeoff, observed carefully as your face grew paler, while you gripped the armrest of the seat tightly.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sebastian asked with concern.

You tried to breathe deeply to calm the wave of nausea you were feeling right now.

"Yes," you simply replied, faking a smile. "I just feel a little uncomfortable with takeoff, you know airplanes and I are not friends. Stop worrying, love. You'll see it'll pass soon."

Despite your multiple reassurances, Seb couldn't convince himself. Your eyes reflected how you felt, and he had no doubt that you were hiding something from him to avoid worrying him.To try to relax you, he leaned towards you to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I know you've told me you're okay, but if you start feeling worse, let me know, okay?"

You nodded, silently thanking the German for his concern.

Although he tried not to make a big deal out of it, the truth was that as the flight progressed towards its destination, you felt worse, even reaching the point where nausea turned into frequent trips to the bathroom to vomit, and constant dizziness into a desire to faint and not wake up for a few days.

"Seb, I swear… I can't deal with this anymore."

After suddenly getting up from your seat, hurrying to the bathroom trying not to cause too much commotion among the other passengers, you quickly locked yourself in the small cubicle, bending over the toilet to empty everything you didn't know you had inside yourself. Sebastian watched with concern as you fled, trying not to lose his composure under the curious gaze of those present, including a few Red Bull engineers.

“Y/N!”, Seb called out as quietly as he could, anxious because you weren’t responding. “Are you okay? Please, open the door.”

You didn't answer him, which only heightened Vettel's anxiety. He fixed his gaze on the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out and give him some explanation of what was happening.

After what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the bathroom with a completely pale face and a tired look. Sebastian simply pulled her close to his chest and held her tightly in an embrace.

"Love, what's wrong?" he said anxiously. "I need to know what's going on. Things can't continue like this if you're going to keep accompanying me. I'm sure it's getting to you: everything is overwhelming you and..."

Suddenly, you began to cry from the helplessness you were feeling, causing Sebastian to hold you even tighter, stroking your back to help you relax as much as possible.

"I can't take it anymore, Seb. I feel awful. I want to die right now."

"We should seek help," he said, wiping your tears away. "We'll see what we can do now to keep you as relaxed as possible for the remainder of the flight, okay? And when we land, we'll go to an emergency room to see what's wrong with you."

Sebastian then called one of the flight attendants in their area and explained the distressing situation, emphasizing that he wouldn't want anyone to find out to avoid conflicts with both the media and his team. The flight attendant simply nodded and informed them to return to their seats, immediately assisting the world champion's partner.

"Mrs. Vettel, here's some water and an aspirin," the woman kindly offered you. "Additionally, I've informed the crew about your wife's situation," she said, now looking at the blonde, "and they confirmed that if she gets worse, there's no problem in making an emergency landing at the nearest airport."

"I'm not Sebastian's wife..."

"Thank you very much," the driver interrupted, thanking the flight attendant for her assistance.

The German began to laugh at your reaction as soon as the woman left.

"You should have seen your face, Y/N. You can't deny that you didn't mind being referred to as my wife," Seb said, stroking your hair and opening the water bottle for you to take a sip.

The flight continued, and although the nausea had been brought under control, the discomfort persisted. The couple was aware that there was only, thankfully, about half an hour of travel left.

"Darling," Sebastian whispered sweetly. "Close your eyes and focus on your breathing: inhale through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. I'm here, hold my hand."

You followed your partner's instructions, allowing yourself to be guided by his voice, which was truly comforting in those moments, in each inhalation and exhalation. Gradually, you began to feel calmer, and you would even swear that you hadn't felt this way in several days.

Finally, the plane reached its destination. You felt greatly relieved that the flight, which had caused you so much distress, had come to an end as it had left her physically and mentally exhausted.

As soon as your feet touched Hungarian soil, Sebastian made sure that you felt as comfortable as possible before heading to the hotel. Despite the rush Britta, Sebastian's PR, took a moment in some small seats to rest and, as much as possible, recover from the turbulent journey they had just endured.

Although he knew he might hurt your feelings, Sebastian decided to broach the subject with a mischievous smile:

"Love, don't you think we've had enough intense Sunday nights celebrating my victories? Because I think it's led to something good."

At first, you were a bit confused, but a few seconds later you let out a shy and sweet laugh. The driver wasn't lying: sex had become your ritual to bid farewell to the weekend and, above all, as a celebration of Seb's victories that season. Now that you remembered, there were quite a few occasions where you didn’t use protection, so you thought that the possibility was even more up in the air now.

"It could be, Seb," you said with a knowing smile. "If I am, we could have a pretty big problem..."

"Please, love, don't say that," Vettel drew closer to you, taking your hand and gently tracing small circles on it with his fingers. "If you're pregnant, I'm sure you'll be an amazing mother. Besides, I know we haven't talked about this, but I've always wanted to be a father and I can't imagine anyone better than you to fulfill this dream."

Tears began to form in your eyes, and you hurried to wipe them away to prevent your boyfriend from noticing.

"So, what do you say? Should we tell Britta that we need to go to the pharmacy and buy a test? That way we can find out, and if it's a no, we can keep trying," you clarified eagerly. "What do you think about tonight?"

Feeling excited, after you explained the situation to the woman who had become another member of the family, and who, obviously, had been thrilled at the possible news, headed to the nearest pharmacy to avoid arousing suspicions among the journalists and paparazzi, who were lurking around with the intention of getting the latest scoop on the man of the moment.

Alone together and holding the small bag containing the test, you began to feel nervous as they approached their room. Upon entering the suite, you both sat on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to calm themselves before checking whether you would become parents.

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath, "I'm ready."

After that, you opened the box containing the test and went to the bathroom, where you followed the instructions carefully. Once finished, you placed it on the surface of the sink and returned to where Seb was, waiting for the indicated time to pass to see the result.

You approached your boyfriend, who gently stroked your back once again to comfort you. He knew you were nervous and scared. He felt the same way.

"Whatever the result is, I'm grateful to have a woman like you in my life. I'll be by your side no matter what, ok?" Sebastian reassured you.

Tears filled the your eyes again, and as you looked at your watch and saw that the waiting time was over, you ran as fast as you could to the bathroom, followed by an anxious Sebastian.

Quickly, you took the test in your hands and saw the result:

"It's positive!" you shouted, your voice trembling. "I'm pregnant, Sebastian!"

A wave of emotions engulfed you both, not knowing what to do except to embrace tightly as you felt a mixture of astonishment and joy, as well as uncertainties about what could happen from that moment on.

"Well, it turns out that in the end I'm not just good at pointing with my index finger when I win," Sebastian teased you mischievously.

"I find it surreal that you're making dirty jokes after finding out we're going to have a child."

"I guess," the driver continued playfully, "we'll have to tell this little one that his dad is a two-time, for now, Formula 1 world champion, and that his mother is a champion in other aspects."

You laughed at your boyfriend's quips, finding them unbelievable.

"Come on, Seb, don't act modest now saying you didn't have merit. You know perfectly well that I motivated you quite a bit during those baby-making sessions."

"Of course, I'm not saying otherwise," the German continued jokingly. "I'm sure the baby will become the royalty of Formula 1. Who wouldn't want to have Vettel and Schumacher genes?"

Both of you burst into laughter, filling the room, giving way your thoughts on how you would tell your families, the media, your respective coworkers... Especially, you spent a few minutes sharing your expectations about what your life would be like from that day on.

"Miss Schumacher and future Mrs. Vettel, let me tell you that now that we know we're expecting a little miracle, I propose we celebrate it in a more... intimate way."

"You can't even give me a day's break, can you? I don't know about you, but I'm convinced my father wouldn't find it amusing to hear his daughter screaming to ask her boyfriend for more," you said, knowing your father would be in the adjacent rooms.

"I know," Seb simply said, "but I’ve won in life, and I don't apologize for winning."

[fanaticsnail]

Love you, Doc

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 4,400

Synopsis: Eustass Kid has come down with the non-life threatening ailment known as "the common cold." It is your job to care for him, no matter who orders you to do so.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic fic, you are the doctor of the Kid Pirates, you have been injured in the leg a few chapters ago by a person from your past, platonic love confessions, swearing, cuddling, Kid is sick, teasing, aged wound care, remedial massage, medicine taking, platonic kisses, swearing.

Notes: Shout out to @thenotsofantasticlifestory for being an absolute darling, listening to my rambles, and steering me into the right direction. Love you lots, Sto.

“Hey Doc,” a flash of a high, blonde ponytail flicks through the threshold from the doorframe, “You busy?” Placing down your medical journal you ordered, authored by a traveling doctor stationed on Drum Island, you turn towards Hop and offer her a two finger salute.

“Not if something’s broken, bleeding, or on fire,” you shrug nonchalantly while giving her a once over with your pointed gaze, “Didn’t go too hard sparring with Hip again, did you? Nothing sprained?” 

“No, no, nothin’ like that! I, uh-...” she trailed off, clutching the back of her neck while avoiding your gaze. Furrowing your brows, you turn your body fully towards her while remaining seated on your rotating swivel chair. 

“Spit it out, Hop. What do you need?” While your question was more tonally a statement punctuating your order, you still assumed your position of duty of care for your crew. She slouched her shoulders, hanging her head and gesturing a single pointed finger out to the side. 

“Cap’n needs you,” she whispered, barely audible. Feeling a little proud for a moment, you lean forward and raise your hand up to cup the shell of your left ear. 

“What was that, sweetheart? Come again?” you offer with a cocky smirk. The tall, blonde pouts while sucking in a large breath through her nose. Arching her back to full stature, she points more firmly in the direction of Kid’s quarters with her lips curled back in a soft snarl.

“The captain needs you, or,” she removes her hand from its outstretched position and crosses her arms over her chest, “Technically speaking: Heat told me to tell you that, Wire told him that he overheard Killer having an argument with the Captain about needing medical attention. Satisfied?” She offered the last part with a huffy taunt, prompting you to grin back at her. 

“Not for years,” you tease her, gesturing for her to come a little closer to your position sitting at your desk, “Come on, help me up. Leg’s still not the same since the spear incident.” You place down the book and 

Rolling her eyes, she casually strolled over towards you and wove herself beneath your arm. With one hand around your waist, the other clutching your wrist, she raised you to your feet and prompted you to let out a soft hiss at the impact of the elevation. The injury to your leg had only begun to crust over, the ooze from the coarse platelets itching at the skin. Bandages only did so much to ease the pressure from the wounds to the muscles, but you tried your best to push it aside to tend to the needs of your captain and your crew.

“Ah, shit,” you laughed through the pain, feeling the prickle of pins and needles pooling to your foot after having your leg elevated for so long beneath the desk. Hop chuckled along with you, giving your hip a gentle pinch while aiding you to stand properly. Without even finding the need to open your mouth, she wordlessly handed you the cane Kid fashioned for you to balance on. 

“Thanks, Hop,” you offered her a half-smile, removing yourself from her grip and looking to your desk. Scrunching up your nose briefly, you arch your brow up at her. 

“Did Wire tell Heat to tell you what type of medical attention he overheard the captain arguing with Killer about?” you offer her a sly smile, reaching for your satchel below your drawers, “Or am I going into this blind like the Reck incident a couple months ago?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea. Heat told me nothing,” she overemphasized her words by swiping her right hand in front of her chest. You shook your head, snorting out a soft laugh while throwing the loop of your satchel over your shoulder. 

Taking a moment to pause, you took a quick glance back at the medical journal and rolled over in your mind the last chapter of wound care and advanced treatment. Internally arguing with yourself for under a second, you decided to take a vial of oil extract from a medicinal plant to promote healing treatment for aged wounds and scars. If your captain was down with something, he might be more pliant in allowing you to experiment with your newfound knowledge. If not, there was always Killer who would always allow you a go at him with medicinal practicing.

“Alright,” you give her a soft nod, “Thanks again, Hop. I’ll go see to him now. Go back to whatever you were doing, or hide here to avoid duties. I don’t mind, just don’t touch the instruments.”

“Aye, Doc,” she offered you a soft salute, plopping herself down on your elevated bay bed and flicking through one of your medical magazines. You chuckle at her, shaking your head at the ease she made herself at home in your office, before hobbling your way down the hallway towards the steps up to Kid’s quarters. 

Slowly bracing yourself on the wooden wall, you took your time walking up the steps to not overdo your injury. While the Kid Pirates were more inclined to ignore the roaring ache you felt lingering beneath your skin, you wanted this to heal properly: taking your own advice, no matter how much you fought the urge not to. The Captain and the three commanders worked hard to save your leg, especially Heat, and you didn’t want to do wrong by them by having to lose it if you didn’t care enough for yourself. 

As soon as you made it up the last step, you heard a large rukkus and commotion from behind the door. Elevated voices, spluttered coughs, and mucusy sniffles ricocheted through the wooden walls and down the lengthy corridor. 

“I don't-,” the voice of your captain crackled, his usual tone more nasally than his usual cadence, “-And then I-!”

“-Get them, I swear, Captain. Doc needs to come and see you,” Killer’s soothing tone was more harsh than it usually was. It was unlike Kid and Killer to be fighting like this, especially for so long given the time it took to communicate it back to you. 

Exhaling more than what you had prepared for yourself, you hang your head while mentally preparing to deliver him his treatment of choice. Considering it was not that long ago that you, yourself, had suffered with this sort of affliction, you knew you would be able to endure being in the same room as your captain without much risk to yourself. Killer wore a mask, likely shielding him from catching the most of the illness, much to your joy. 

This could only mean one thing, and one thing only. Eustass “Captain” Kid had the non-life-threatening ailment known as: the common cold. 

With a lengthy inhale, you straightened your spine and rolled your neck around on your shoulders. With several pops of bone and muscle, you shrugged off the last of your inhibitions and readied yourself for an afternoon of treating your captain of his illness. Thanking your prior preparation of including several bottles of various tonics and honeyed anti-inflammatories, you brought your knuckles to the door and rapped on the wooden surface. 

You couldn't fight back the smile that rose upon hearing a repetition of “Please be Doc, please be Doc, please be Doc,” from the blonde first-mate. The door creaked open in a harsh tug, halting at three inches as the blue and white mask of Killer peeked through the small crack. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Killer exhaled, his shoulders falling in a large slouch, “Please, in. In, in, in,” he ushered you inside Kid’s quarters with a hand floundering on your shoulders. You grimaced as you balanced out your weight on your injured leg, hobbling to adjust to a comfortable stature. Killer took a minute to insure you were safely tucked inside Kid's quarters before using a spurt of energy to flee from the room with a sheepish air to his actions. 

“He's all yours, Doc,” the jovial, teasing tone of the first mate cut through the air and prompted you to almost growl as Killer closed the door behind himself. Staring at the chipped paint of the wooden door, you heard a spluttering cough from the corner of your captain's quarters. Far away from the coziness of his bed, you turned to view the hulking figure of your captain hunched over his desk, his shoulders donning his large duvet as he scratched etchings onto a blank sheet of pressed paper. 

“Captain?” you slowly asked, turning away from the door and stepping towards his desk, “Captain, are you alright?” 

“Go away,” the nasally voice growled from beneath the shroud. His right arm continued to roll the utensils within his digits and scratch inked blots into the pages. “M’working. Go do doctor things, Doc. Find someone else to torment.” 

Rolling your eyes, you saunter over to the desk and peer over his shoulder. The page was littered with sharp lines of various sizes, neat notations within the marines depicting metallic elements on the periodic table, and heat temperatures for soldering purposes. You shake your head and slowly reach over your captain's shoulders, perching your hands over the duvet and giving the taut muscles a gentle squeeze. 

“I am not here to torment you, Cap,” you confess to him, tugging at his shoulders until his broad torso slunk against your chest. He pressed his head back against your chest, slowly leaning to the side and peering from the corner of his eye up at you. “I'm here to look after you.” You smile sweetly down at him, reaching up and smoothing your digits over his fluffy red hair. 

Eustass Kid’s bottom lip protruded, his eyelids swollen and puffy, and nostrils peeling skin from the swollen corners of his nose. His eyes began to water as he sniffed back another blocked rumble of air through what could manage to pass through his nose. 

“Do you want me to look after you, Captain?” you ask, truthfully knowing the answer he was desperately pleading with his eyes, but wanting him to speak it anyway. Taking a deep inhale through his raspy, crackling throat, Eustass Kid brayed out his answer in a forlorn whine. 

“Ye-es,” he wailed, leaning fully into your arms and closing his eyes. “I can't breathe, my mind is foggy, I can't lay down without my fuckin’ nose dripping all over the place, and I can't fuckin’ sleep while that's the only thing I really want to do. I haven't slept in three fuckin’ days.” The floodgates of Eustass Kid’s needs were broken like a dam, each word rolling over the other as you ushered him over to his large bed. Gently prying his duvet from his shoulders, you guided him to his bed while he continued to whine hoarsely. 

“My throat feels like I've swallowed glass, my eyes won't stop leaking, my ears keep popping and crackling, and there's this infernal ringing going on like a mosquito is trapped in my eardrum.” You ushered him to sit on his bed, propping him into a reclined position with his right arm propped over his stomach with a pillow beneath it, and his left stump elevated. Finding more pillows in his personal linen cupboard, you stuffed a few more up to hold him comfortably upright before tucking the duvet over his waist. 

“Sounds like you've got it bad, Cap,” you nodded sympathetically, locating your bag and popping the seal, “Tinnitus in which ear, hm? Left or right?” 

“Left, I think. It's like a buzz at this stage, don't pay it any mind,” he nodded, feeling the weight of his eyes falling like anchors over his glassy orbs. “What's really fuckin’ bad is my arm. It feels like it's still there, and it's like fire in my skin,” he looked down at his missing left arm with pain written on his features, “I can feel my hand gripping hard, like I can't let go of something important. S’always shit when I get sick, and this time it's just tauntin’ me.” 

You sigh empathetically, looking briefly down at your still healing leg before you continued to ready a cocktail of medication for your captain. Antibiotics, probiotics, pain relief, blood thinners, muscle relaxants, and sleep aid was calculated and lumped in according to his height to weight distribution, and adjusted for more comfort to his high pain tolerance. Usually, you would make fun of him for acting like this, but this vulnerability had you feeling closer to your captain than ever. You hastily clutched the vial you packed into your satchel within your palm before walking with your knees towards the reclined posture of the large red-head. 

“Take these with some water. I know it's shit, and it'll hurt your throat, but I'll get Killer to make you some lemon and honey tea to aid with the sting,” you nodded, reaching up your hand to his lips and popping the assortment of pills within his painted lips. Watching as he held them in his mouth briefly, you reached the top of his drawers for the glass of water you knew Killer put there a few hours ago and drew it up to Kid’s lips. He eagerly gulped down the contents, wincing at the hard pills lodging in his raw throat, before swallowing them down obediently. 

“You'll start to feel better in about ten minutes,” you nod to him, placing the water glass on the bench top beside the bed, “And while we wait, I'm going to see what I can do about your arm.” Reaching into your pocket, you uncorked the vial and poured a generous amount of oiled liquid into the center of your palm. Rolling your hands together, you warmed the liquid with the heat of your skin before drawing it towards the scarred left arm of your captain. 

“Keen for me to experiment a bit with your skin?” you quirked at him, hovering above and awaiting consent from the hulking figure of your captain. 

“You said you're gonna take care o’ me,” he grumbled, huffing and pouting like a petulant child, “So hurry up and do it already. I fuckin’ hate feeling like this, and I just-... I just-...” His eyes welled up, prompting him to turn to the side and hide his face from you, “...I just don't want to be in charge anymore. I can't be in charge anymore. I feel like absolute dog shit, and I just-... I need help sometimes.” He turned his orange eyes up at you, begging within his rounded orbs, “Please, Doc? Just make it stop? Please?”

Immediately pressing your hands to his arm, you give his muscles a constricting grip and roll the flesh beneath your digits. 

“Tense up with me,” you order him, squeezing his bicep with the intentional strength in a few key areas, “And then release.” You relaxed your grip on his arm, holding the grip over his flesh and thumbing along the veins. As he tensed his muscle, you tighten your grip, “Now hold it,” you nod, your hands shuddering beneath your strength, “And release.” 

You coached him through this method a few more times, rolling his skin between your hands and feeling the ripped and repaired muscles beneath his skin. Moving up your eyes, you focus on Eustass Kid’s face as it contorted in agony. The way he sucked in his lips and grit his teeth matched the telltale signs of him trying not to cry. 

Only ever seeing this expression on him once before, you decided to use a different method of care. 

“Doing so well, sweetheart,” you bore your fingers into his solid flesh, coating each morsel with the oil and sculpting his pain away with circular motions, “You are so brave, Kid. You bare the weight of our large crew, you have done so much for everyone. Captain I-.” Your words caught in your throat, feeling the tension in his muscles pull taught as you held firmly against his arm. 

“Say it. Whatever it is. Please, Doc,” Kid nodded, fighting back through the pain and urging you along. While the two of you were distracted by focussing attention on Eustass Kid’s pain, you remained ignorant of the door opening and closing behind the blonde-haired first mate reentering the room. 

You inhaled a deep breath, humbling yourself and giving him something truthful to focus on rather than gritting his teeth through the praise he often craved. 

“Captain, I'm proud to serve under you,” you utter to him, gently rolling your digits over the base of his healed scarring. Thumbing over the stump, you focus your eyes on his flesh, “We are all proud of you. I-...” You halted your motion, closing your eyes and lighting up your soft smile on your lips, “...I have loved every minute of serving you as your doctor, regardless of what I say most of the time. I love you, Captain.” 

Looking at the mess of oozing oils over his skin, you feel his right hand gently reach up to clasp your forearm. 

As Kid made to open his lips, using his words to mirror your admiration back at you, his mind did not match what curled on his tongue. 

“Hah! You love me? Pfft, what a fuckin’ softie, Doc,” he slunk back against the pillows once more, his eyelids growing heavy and weighted beneath the growing intensity of the medication. “You're a little shit most of the time. A real pain in my ass, and you ruin a lot of my projects and fun by banning them. Shoulda kicked you off the crew years ago.” 

Your jaw slackened, eyes widening as your brows furrowed beneath the weight of his words. Just as you were about to bark back a witty retort of your own, he silenced you by lazily rolling your name over his palate. 

“But I fuckin’ love you,” he confessed in a breathy tone, a dopey smile tugging up his face, “Take’n such good care o’ us. Keepin’ me in line when I start with the bullshit. Always bein’ nice, in your own sadistic way.” He gave your hand two warm taps before the medication pulled him down in a warm recline. 

“I love you so damn much, Doc. I need you to know that,” his tone grew slower, his yawn tugging his lips up and his voice muffled beneath the wide inhale, “I love you.” His head lulled to the side, his lips parting as sleep finally caught up with him. His breaths came out in rattled breaths, saliva mixing with mucussy underlay of his firey illness. 

“And just like that, you're out like a light,” you chuckle to yourself, cradling his left bicep and laying it down beside him. Gently tucking in his duvet over his broad torso, alongside removing the pillow from his stomach, you smooth over the plush material and secure the captain beneath the shroud. Giving a brief pause, your eyes raked over his face and noticed his breathing was relaxing with each inhale. 

“Rest well, sir,” you nodded, slowly inching yourself off the bed and wincing through the shooting pain up your leg. Just as you rose to stand at your feet, a slow drawl crooned from the corner of the room. 

“What? No kiss for your captain, Doc?” Killer teased you, finally making his presence known as you hobbled away from the captain’s bedside. “No little stroke on the forehead after the professions of love? Not even a gentle cup of his clammy, sick cheek?” 

If your scowl had the ability to sear through metal and bone, the look that bloomed in your eyes would've sent Killer to his grave. 

“Caressing and kissing my unconscious crewmates is not my forte,” you spat in return, upturning your lip and snarling at the blonde. He was taken aback by your menacing altitude, raising his hands at his sides while he shook his head softly side to side. 

“I meant no disrespect, Doc,” he lowered his head and stooped to your height, “I was just playing, as we always do. Are-... Are you alright-?”

“-No, I'm not,” you growl in return, reaching for the cane and propping yourself up with it. “I had to hear from Hop that Heat told her, that Wire told him, that he overheard you telling the captain to ask for medical attention from me.” You leaned on your cane, feeling your hand shake under the weight of your body. “Do you know how fucking ridiculous that is, Kil? How fucking stupid that is? How worthless that makes me f-feel?” You choked on the last few syllables, feeling the well of emotions finally simmer in your chest and rise in your throat. 

“Hearing Kid, joking or not, say he wanted to kick me off this crew while I'm treating him?” you fought back your tears, finally succumbing to the emotion and having the liquid sear down your cheeks and drop onto the floor. “I can take a lot of shit, Kil. But this? This? This fucking took the cake.” 

The noise from your deep confession managed to stir Kid from his medicated slumber, his body fighting the sleep in a bid to remain awake for your words. He heard every lick falling from your snarling lips, every passionate exclaim causing him to slink back down and listen intently. 

“And when I tell someone I love them? Platonic or not, I don't enjoy being laughed at, or made fun of when I say somethin’ fuckin’ stupid like that,” your eyes drew to Killer's mask as you bore your soul to him, unaware of Kid attempting to sit up in his bed further. “When I-!”

“-Get over here, both o’ you,” Kid interjected, causing both Killer and you to snap your attention over to the captain reclining on his bed. 

“Captain, I-,” you began, prompting Kid’s raspy growl to drown out your repose. 

“-I don't wanna fuckin’ hear it,” his left arm wobbled, patting the pillow in a bid to call you over further, “I'm not tellin’ ya’ both again. Get the fuck over here, now. You too, you big asshole.” 

Killer rolled his shoulders back, his muscles and bones clicking as he kicks off his boots and saunters over to you. Without giving you a moment to reject his order, Killer hoisted you up and slammed your back gently on the large bed beside your captain. Nestling you within the crook of his left arm, he tugged you closer into his embrace, cradling you against his chest, while Killer moved to Kid’s righthand side. 

“Now, you little shit,” Kid growled playfully into your ear, “You're gonna fuckin’ sleep, I'm gonna fuckin’ sleep, and Kil? You're gonna fuckin’ sleep. We're all sleepin’, ya hear?”

“Cap’n, I need to tell Wire that he's in charge-,” Killer attempted to convey, hushed by Kid harshly tugging him into his chest and locking him against his body. 

“-And I don't fuckin’ care. You're cranky as all hell, and Doc is too, ain't ya?” he chuckled down into the crown of your head, stroking it with his cheek, “Now you're both gonna sleep. I don't care how long you sleep for, but you're gonna sleep.” 

“Cap, I-,” you try him, prompting Kid to bark down at you in response. 

“-I don't fuckin' care. Go to sleep, so-...” he took a moment to yawn, his voice groaning at the back of his raw throat, “...-so I can sleep. You're both loud, and I need the people I love close to me. So shut up, and be close to me.”

He turned his face towards Killer, puckering his lips and pressing them against the top of his mask. Emphasising his kiss, he moans an overenthusiastic hum against the cool metal. 

“Mmm-ah,” he releases Killer’s mask from his lips, laughing as he watches the first mate gently punch his arm. “Night, Kil. Enjoy your snooze.” Kid then turns to you, using the stump of his arm to coax you towards his lips. 

Gently fighting yourself away from the captain's affection, he wins by pressing his lips to your forehead and offering the same exaggerated moan. 

“Mmm-ah,” his grin splits up his cheeks as he watches you becoming visually flustered by his actions. “Night, Doc. Sleep tight.” Kid rolls into his back, holding both you and Killer tucked tight into his armpits and sighs a raspy breath of glee. 

“Love you, Kil. Love you, Doc,” he smiled, closing his eyes and truly basking in his two crewmates offering him comfort. He felt Killer adjust himself to make his mask comfortable above his cheek, nestling against the redhead's side. You do the same, giving up on the notion of fleeing from the captain's embrace and drawing your own comfort within his bicep. 

“Love you too, Cap,” both you and Killer whisper in unison, feeling the call of slumber sing it's sweet song under the comfort of Kid’s warm embrace. 

It wasn't an unheard of thing, sleeping beside your crewmates and offering them comfort. Bubblegum often came to either you or Killer when he needed that extra care, and you would always give in when he needed that softness from you. 

But this felt different. 

The soft, likely cold medication-induced love professions after a hard cry with one another made you, yourself, vulnerable to this embrace. Your care for Kid and your crew, the love you all share unlike anything you had ever encountered before. Feeling raw, you draw your hand over Kid’s waist and tuck your face against his chest. As you felt yourself well up once more, a hand came up and cloaked your own beneath its warmrh. Slowly peaking from the corner of your eye up, you notice Killer's hand covering your own and thumbing over your knuckles. 

“Love you, Doc,” he whispered over Kid’s heavy breathing, giving your digits a gentle squeeze, “I mean it, and so does he. We all love you. You're perfect for our crew, and Kid has never wanted to ever kick you off. He was just sayin’ it to-.”

“-I love you too, Kil,” you whisper in return, gently rolling your hand up and squeezing his palm, “And I know. I was just being silly, and a little bit vulnerable after the injury. I know, okay?” You shifted closer to Kid, adjusting so you were comfortable and offering Killer one final quip before your eyes weighed beneath the call of sleep took you. 

“Now do as your told, and fuckin’ sleep would you.”

“You too, Doc.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Can you give examples of Aang showing Empathy? Oh wait, you can't.

Actually, I can - because unlike you, I base my opinion of the characters on the actual stuff that happened in the story, not the bad faith takes dumb people on the internet come up with.

Zuko literally only survived past book 1 because Aang was the ONLY person amongst the heroes that gave a single fuck about his well-being. Aang offered to be FRIENDS with him as early as episode 13, even though this dude is trying to kidnap him.

In the first damn episode we see him realize and try to remedy Katara's struggle with no longer being able to act like a kid and have fun. He wants to travel with her so SHE gets to learn waterbending. He willingly lets Zuko take him into his ship because he understood that a conflict could lead to the people of the water tribe getting hurt or killed.

In Warriors of Kyoshi he apologizes to Katara for letting all the praise and admiration go to this head. He makes sure to put out the fires Zuko and his crew started in Suki's village.

He tries to help remedy the Hei-Bai situation, even though he is unsure of himself and even scared, because he knows he is the only one that has any chance of helping - and the thing that allows him to connect with Hei-Bai is the fact that he is ALSO upset about the destruction the Fire Nation has caused AND hopeful that the world would eventually heal.

He thinks Jet is awesome because he wants to help people that are being oppressed by the Fire Nation - and then is horrified when he finds out his intension is to "free" them by killing everyone

He wants to help the two rival groups not only safely cross the Great Divide, but also stop hating each other.

He confesses that he hid the map to Hakoda because Bato, Katara and Sokka are showing how much they appreciate and trust him and he feels unworthy of it after what he did because he knows it'd hurt him if the roles were reversed.

He is so devastated by the fact that he ACCIDENTALLY hurt Katara that he swears to never firebend again. He is also able to recognize the same principle behind his mistake in Zhao's fighting style, allowing him to win the battle against the bastard.

He accepts the fact that the Northern Air Temple is now occupied by people who not only don't belong to his culture but also don't understand it and unknowingly destroyed something sacred to him (and that one of them had been forced to make weapons for the Fire Nation) because these people have nowhere else to go and he doesn't want them to suffer.

He is furious at Pakku for refusing to teach Katara waterbending, because he knows how much it'd mean to her and how unfair it is that she can't learn it just because of her gender.

He is so devastated by the death of the Moon Spirit that the Ocean Spirit latches onto him to avenge it and save the day - and the leve of destruction it causes haunts Aang, even though the violence was against his enemies. And still, he tries to go into the Avatar state again because people are dying and he can't accept that.

After the fall of Omashu, he wants to rescue Bumi, not because he needs a teacher, but because they're friends.

He felt empathy for Toph when she was explaining to her parents how lonely and unappriacted their over-protection made her feel.

He and Katara both feel bad for snapping at Toph during "The Chase" and wanted to apologize for not understanding that being part of a group was a radical change to her, even though she had refused to even try. He also didn't have a problem with fighting alongside Zuko and Iroh against Azula, AND he looked concerned when Iroh was injured.

After Katara comments on the fact he called Toph Sifu but not her, he calls her Sifu while bowing, to show that he respects her both as his master and friend.

The hopelessness and downright depression he was feeling after Appa was stolen only starts healing because he saw a couple being happy with their newborn baby - the same couple he decided to help cross the Serpent's Pass, even though he and his friends had just been allowed to take a much safer route to Ba Sing Se.

His understanding and sympathy towards Jet, even after everything the guy did, was so strong that it freed him from literal brainwashing.

He doesn't want to push his love for Katara aside to gain power because he cares about her too much - and then does it anyway because, even though not making her his main focus 24/7 offers the risk of her being hurt, him neglecting his mission guarantees she'll get hurt.

He is devastated to learn that the world thinks he is dead because he knows he was everyone's last hope - and yet in the end he still accepts the burden of failure because he understood that, at that moment, everyone would be safer if no one else knew he was still alive.

He goes to a Fire Nation school and bonds with the kids, wanting to give them a taste of freedom and joy, as well as trying to understand what the war is like from their perspective. The same episode also has him pull Katara for a dance because he noticed she was feeling left out.

The boy felt empathy for, and understood the mistakes of, both Ruko and Sozin. SOZIN. Aang could see the humanity in the monster that is responsible for him losing his entire culture and everyone he loved.

When Zuko spoke about wanting to control his impulses so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, Aang explicitly connected with that struggle and saw them being teacher and student as fate, and Zuko agreed because that's how deep their connection was.

Aang is not happy about Katara wanting to murder a man, but he still lets her take Appa on her mission and is not disapproving when she ultimately spares the guy but does not forgive him and makes it clear she never will.

He feels empathy for freaking Ozai, to the point that refuses to kill the guy - even as he has the balls to say that Aang's family, his people, deserved to die. He spared that guy - but only after he had a way to do that without it meaning the death of more innocents. Aang, the pacifist, was going to turn his back on everything he believed in just to avoid more human suffering.

So yeah, miss me with your bullshit and don't come back until your brain is developed enough to understand a cartoon aimed at kindergarterners.

[girlgenius1111]

prove yourself

cata coll x reader r realizes cata has a protective streak, while r does not. she tries to remedy this, although it doesn't go exactly to plan. cw: creepy entitled man being gross at a bar in this. he gets a little touchy, and is promptly dealt with.

----- 

It began with a seemingly harmless comment from Pina on whether similar or different people made better partners. You spent a lot of time with your girlfriend, and you’d picked up little mannerisms that the other had. As such, you thought that the two of you were more similar than you actually were. 

“You and Cata are complete opposites. Cata is a hot head, she’d get into a fist fight in a second for you. You’ve watched people push her to the pitch and not lost your temper.” 

You’d brushed the comment off, making a joke about how if she was right, Pina needed to find herself the most serious, most calm person on earth. 

It had stuck with you, though. Was this something everyone thought? That you weren’t protective over Cata when she was with you? Did Cata think that? That you didn’t care enough to be that way? It wasn’t true, it definitely wasn’t true. You cared more for Cata than you thought possible, than you’d ever felt for anyone in all your years. Every cell, every molecule in your body loved Cata. 

And sure, you were a calm person. Not outwardly aggressive on the pitch, or anywhere really. That was your reputation; cool under pressure. You shook everything off, took nothing personally. You’d never so much as had a cross word with another player on the pitch, or off of it. You didn’t argue, and you didn’t fight. Ever. 

For Cata, though? For her, you’d light a match and watch the whole world burn. Cata was worth it, worth everything. It scared you that she might not know that, scared you just in general, how deeply you loved her, how all consuming it was. 

As it stood, you weren’t planning on doing anything about it. Maybe you’d talk to Cata about it at some point, but you were very much someone who kept things to themselves. If you had a problem, it took a lot of coaxing from your girlfriend to get you to talk about it. 

It really wasn’t intentional, what happened. A combination of things pushed the situation out of control, the biggest of them being your sudden, inexplicable insistence to protect your girlfriend. 

Cata was a partier. It was well known; put her and Pina together, and combine an important win? Everyone was waking up with a hangover the next morning, whether they wanted to or not. You were very used to how rowdy she’d get in clubs, but for her part, she never really let you out of her sight. It wasn’t odd for her to get wildly possessive of you on a night out, glaring at anyone that glanced at you for too long. It had always made you feel special, but now, you were wondering if Cata wanted the same behavior from you. 

The team was, as expected, out celebrating the latest El Clásico win. Cata had kept a clean sheet, and was very much looking forward to letting loose for the evening. You’d all found yourselves in a familiar club in the heart of Barcelona. The entire team was there, even Alexia, though you suspected she came to keep an eye on everyone. 

For your part, you’d done well to push your current crisis out of your head, instead focusing on the spectacular performance of your girlfriend, and your own performance, which wasn’t half bad. You were in for a fun night with Cata, if not a long morning of babying her hangover, until some disgusting man decided the goalkeeper’s tight leather pants were an invitation. 

Cata was further from you than she liked to be on nights out, but she’d gone up to the bar with Mario to get more drinks, and had left you safely seated next to Alexia. You watched very carefully as the man approached Cata and Mario, neither of them paying him very much attention. Even when he leaned in closer to your girlfriend, you weren’t too worried. Cata leaned away from him instinctually, stepping closer into Mario. 

“Come on, beautiful, let me have your number. I can show you a good time.” He was so drunk he was slurring his words, practically falling over. 

“No thanks.” Cata said back. There was a time she would have embarrassed the man, nudged him away and made a joke at his expense, but she was older, now, and more aware of how poorly that could end for her. She kept it polite and quick, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was with the man in her space. 

He seemed to back off, for a second, and Cata moved away from Mario to grab 2 of the drinks the bartender was holding out for her. As soon as her back was the man opposite her, his hand was moving quickly. You blinked, almost stunned at the audacity of the man who had just gratuitously slapped your girlfriend’s ass. He must have been the stupidest man on earth, truly, seeing as though Mario instantly pushed Cata behind her and squared up to the taller man. Mariona Caldentey was an intimidating person when she wasn’t grinning from ear to ear, and she definitely wasn’t doing so now, giving the man a harsh shove to the chest. 

Alexia was moving too, blinking when you beat her out of the chair, rushing off towards Cata. She, and everyone else watching the situation unfold, expected you to go to your girlfriend. They were all stunned, then, when you walked up to the atrocious man smiling smugly down at Mario, pushed your teammate gently out of the way, before balling your hand and swinging, your fist connecting with its target with a loud, revolting crunch. 

How dare he lay a hand on Cata, on your Cata. Only you were allowed to slap her ass, and only when she said she wanted you to. You were angrier than you’d ever felt, but regardless, throwing that punch hadn’t been your first instinct. You’d been moving to check on Cata, when you remembered Pina’s words from earlier, and realized that this was your chance to prove to everyone, Cata most importantly, that you were just as dedicated, and just as protective of her as she was of you. 

You’d had better ideas. That was clear as the man staggered backwards, and as your knuckles felt like they were splintering open. The bartender had watched the whole thing occur, and didn’t say anything as the man stumbled back towards his friends, embarrassed, clutching tightly to his nose. 

“What the hell was that? He was twice your size, idiota,” Alexia scolded, spinning you around to inspect your hand as well as she could in the dim lighting. She was quickly, and unceremoniously, knocked out of the way as Cata rushed to your side, the shock of seeing you deck a grown man wearing off. Alexia gave Cata an unimpressed look, but told Cata to get you home safe, before dragging Mario, who was practically doubled over laughing, back over to the table.

Cata didn’t speak, a rarity for her, simply taking your hand very gently in hers and looking at you with an almost heartbreakingly concerned look on her face. Your hand really fucking hurt. You were pretty sure it was broken, but your attention was on Cata. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, mind not focused on your throbbing hand, but on your sweet girlfriend, who liked to act a lot tougher than she really was. 

“I’m fine, really. Let’s go, you need a doctor.” The goalkeeper didn’t wait for a response, pulling you towards the door, past the table of your teammates. You noticed Mario giving a rather dramatic retelling of the event, just barely catching the look of joy and wonder on Mapi’s face at the news that you’d punched someone. Honestly, your teammates were all children.

“Baby, you’re drunk, you shouldn’t drive.” You reminded her, as she opened the passenger door to her car for you. You’d been planning on driving home, but with your hand the way it was, that didn’t seem all that likely. 

“I’m not drunk, I didn’t even finish my first drink. We have dinner with your parents tomorrow night, I didn’t want to be hungover.” Cata dismissed, getting into the driver's seat and glancing anxiously at you. You were almost speechless at this, as Cata wasn’t really one to to think ahead to the consequences of being hungover. You smiled weakly at her, blinking away a few tears, both at how well your girlfriend loved you, and at how your hand was beginning to have its own heartbeat. 

The goalkeeper leaned across the center console, pecking your cheek, before starting the car and driving in the direction of the hospital. 

-----

It wasn’t that Cata seemed mad, per say, she was just being… odd. Not really in a way that would be clear to anyone else, but you knew her well enough to recognize the far off expression on her face as one she got when she was nervous. You decided the incident in the bar had upset her more than she was willing to admit, and vowed to bring it up again when you arrived home. As for now, you sat in the car, heading home from the hospital, with your arm carefully cradled against your chest, encased in a blue cast.Blue, as you’d insisted upon, and marked with a heart, as Cata had insisted. She’d charmed one of the nurses at the hospital into bringing her a sharpie, and had carefully inked the heart into the plaster, her tongue sticking out of her mouth adorably as she concentrated. Once she was satisfied, and you’d been discharged, she’d led you out of the hospital, keeping you pressed close to her body. She buckled your seatbelt for you, even though you were more than capable. 

It came so easily to her, it seemed, being protective and taking care of you. She just knew what to do; knew to guide you into the house, knew to get you something to eat before leading you upstairs. She knew to help you get your pajamas on, the pain meds the hospital had prescribed made you a bit woozy, but knew to still let you do most of the work, knowing you hated to feel hovered over. That just wasn’t your skillset. You took care of Cata, yes, but in different ways. Ways that didn’t seem as significant, or as meaningful. 

You were getting tired of her acting so weird, though. She came at you with a makeup wipe and even when she was gazing down at your face, meticulously cleaning it off, she avoided eye contact with you. If there was one thing you were good at, it was getting Cata to talk to you. 

“You’re upset.” 

She paused, nodding minutely, before moving away from you to discard the makeup wipe, and grab your skincare routine from the bathroom. You waited until she was back in front of you, smearing on your moisturizer, before speaking again. 

“You’re allowed to be upset, Cata. That was a horrible experience.” 

Her expression was still guarded, even as she nodded again. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

You shook your head. “No, I mean what happened, Cata. What that dick did.” 

Cata gave you a weird look. “I’m not upset about that, bebé.” 

At this, you pushed her hands away from your face, giving her a disbelieving look. 

She doubled down. “I’m not. It was gross and I probably would have hit him if you hadn’t. I’m upset that you got hurt, though. That you got hurt for me.” She explained, sitting carefully next to you, as if the gentle movement of the bed under you would jostle your arm in a painful way. She was always so careful with you.

You thought she’d be happy. Not happy that you were hurt, but happy you stood up for her. You were convinced you’d be filling a gap that she’d felt, that she wouldn’t focus on your broken hand when she could focus on what you’d done for her. 

“If he’d slapped my ass instead, what would you have done?” You asked after a minute, looking up at your girlfriend’s face. 

Her eyebrows creased with anger at the mere thought, and there was no ounce of uncertainty in her tone. “Murder.” 

You stifled a laugh, completely sure that she was serious. 

“Then what’s the difference?” 

“The difference is that it’s you.” Cata said rather harshly, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing on her face. “I don’t need you to protect me.” 

That stung, even if you knew she hadn’t meant it in the way it sounded. You rose from the bed, feeling embarrassment wash over you as you tried to leave the room. 

“Okay, got it. Sorry.” You mumbled. 

“Amor, no.” Cata sighed, grabbing your good hand and wrenching you back towards her. You stumbled slightly, only blushing more as you practically fell into your girlfriend’s lap. “I just meant… I protect you, okay? You don’t need to worry about me. I don’t want you to get hurt, even if it’s for me.” 

You were quiet, not convinced. Cata looked at you searchingly for a minute, before her hand raised, pointer finger tracing a light pattern across your cheek until you raised your head to look at her. 

“What is this about? You’ve never done something like this before.”

“I just thought that… maybe it bothered you. That I’m not as protective towards you. ” 

“No, no. It doesn’t bother me. I like it. It feels like my job, to keep you safe. This special thing that I can do to make you feel safe.” Cata emphasized, her fingers tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, her eyes looking at you with an adorable scrunch as she tried to get her point across. 

“You don’t want me to be that for you, too?” You asked. 

“You don’t need to punch people for me to feel safe, you do that in… different ways. You’re soft, and you’re perfect. You give the best hugs, and you make me feel better just by speaking. I don’t need you to beat anyone up for me. I just need you.”  The goalkeeper responded softly, her voice growing quiet in the way it did whenever she expressed a vulnerability. “You don’t need to prove your love for me, bebé. I feel it all the time.” 

At this, you leaned forward, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Her arms wrapped snugly around you, and Cata pressed her face into your hair, inhaling deeply, rather satisfied with herself for making you feel better. 

“You always know what to say.” You mumbled. “And you look hot when you’re mad.” 

Cata pulled away, throwing her head back and laughing. “You do too, bebé. I like you uninjured, though, so no more fights until I teach you how to punch.”

“I know how to punch!!” You cried resentfully, trying hard to keep a frown on your face. 

When Cata’s eyes flickered between your face and your broken hand, a smirk tugging at her lips, you broke, laughing as you leaned back down against her. 

“Fine. I don’t know how to punch.” You admitted begrudgingly. 

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to. I’ll always be there to throw punches for you, sí?” 

You were sure she would be. Cata loved a fight, on or off the pitch, but more than anything, she loved taking care of you. 

-----

:) cata 🙂🫶🏻

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

In Sickness and in Care

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader, ft. Jack

Summary: When Y/n falls ill, Toto and Jack work together with love and care to nurse her back to health

______________________________________________________________

The day began as a typical morning in the Wolff household, but Y/n felt an odd heaviness in her limbs as she lay under the covers. Jack, full of boundless energy as always, had dashed into the room and jumped onto the bed, his excitement infectious. “Good morning, Y/n!” he shouted happily, bouncing next to her. Normally, she would have pulled him into a hug, laughing as he snuggled close, but today, she just didn’t have the strength.

Toto noticed immediately. He’d always been incredibly attuned to her mood and energy, so when he saw the tiredness in her eyes, the slight frown on her face, he walked over to her side of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing her forehead with the back of his fingers. The heat radiating from her skin caused his brow to furrow deeply. “Liebling, you’re burning up,” he murmured, his deep voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Y/n croaked, her voice hoarse and scratchy. She tried to push herself up, but the effort only made her head spin. She closed her eyes, groaning softly as her body sank back into the pillows.

Toto's frown deepened, and he sat beside her on the bed. “You don’t look fine. Stay here, rest.” His tone was gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. He glanced over at Jack, who was now sitting cross-legged beside Y/n, his wide eyes taking in the scene. The little boy immediately sensed that something was wrong.

“Is Y/n sick?” Jack asked, his small voice trembling slightly as he reached out to touch her arm. His eyes were round with worry as he looked up at his father.

Toto nodded, but his expression softened as he looked at Jack. “She’s not feeling well, but we’re going to help her feel better, alright? She just needs some rest.”

Jack, always eager to help, straightened up and gave a determined nod. “I can help! I’ll take care of her too!”

Toto smiled at his son’s earnestness, giving him a reassuring nod. “That’s a good idea, Jack. Let’s make sure she has everything she needs.”

As Y/n lay there, her fever starting to intensify, she watched through half-lidded eyes as the two most important people in her life sprang into action. Jack rushed to grab her water bottle from the nightstand, holding it carefully with both hands as he offered it to her. “Here, Y/n! You need to drink lots of water. That’s what Papa always says when I’m sick.”

She gave him a grateful smile, taking a small sip even though swallowing was painful. “Thank you, Jack. You’re such a good helper.”

Toto, meanwhile, disappeared into the kitchen, determined to make her something nourishing. He wasn’t the best cook—usually leaving that to Y/n or their chef—but today, he was going to make her his mother’s homemade chicken broth. He remembered it being the go-to remedy for any illness when he was young, and though it had been years since he last made it, he was confident he could manage.

Back in the bedroom, Jack had taken it upon himself to make sure Y/n was as comfortable as possible. He carefully arranged the pillows around her, trying to mimic how he’d seen his dad do it. “There,” he said, stepping back to admire his work. “Is that better?”

Y/n smiled despite her discomfort. “Perfect,” she whispered, her heart warming at how much he cared. Jack crawled onto the bed beside her, carefully snuggling up next to her while holding one of his books. He opened it, determined to read to her even though his reading skills were still developing.

“I’ll read you The Gruffalo,” he announced, flipping through the pages eagerly. Y/n nodded, resting her head against the pillow as she listened to his soft voice stumbling through the words. It wasn’t long before her eyelids became too heavy, and she drifted off into a feverish sleep.

Hours passed in a blur of sleep, heat, and shivers. At one point, Y/n woke up to the smell of something warm and comforting wafting through the air. The fever had made her weak, and even sitting up took a great deal of effort. Her head pounded, and her throat was sore, but the smell of broth was enough to stir her out of her fog.

Toto reappeared with a tray in hand, his face showing clear signs of worry but relief as well. He set the tray gently on the bedside table and helped Y/n sit up, his strong arms supporting her as he propped pillows behind her back. “I made you some chicken broth. It’s my mother’s recipe,” he said softly, holding the bowl out to her with a spoon.

Y/n reached for it, her hands trembling slightly from the effort. The first sip was soothing, the warmth of the broth easing the raw ache in her throat. She could see the pride and worry in Toto’s eyes as he watched her eat, his shoulders finally relaxing when he saw her taking a few more spoonfuls.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a rasp. She managed a small smile, feeling touched by the care he had taken to make her something with his own hands.

Toto shook his head, his large hand coming up to gently brush a few strands of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to thank me. Just focus on getting better,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a soft line along her cheek before he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

As the day wore on, Y/n slipped in and out of sleep, each time waking to find either Jack or Toto by her side. Jack had taken his role as her “nurse” very seriously, making sure her water bottle was always full and tucked her blankets around her with meticulous care. He even gave her one of his stuffed animals, placing it on the bed beside her. “This is Mr. Fluffy. He’ll make you feel better too,” Jack said earnestly, his face lighting up when Y/n gave him a weak but grateful smile.

Later in the evening, after Jack had fallen asleep at the foot of the bed, Y/n’s fever finally began to break. She still felt weak and exhausted, but the oppressive heat had subsided, and her head was no longer throbbing as badly. Toto, who had been sitting beside her with a book in hand, noticed the change immediately.

“You’re looking a bit better,” he said softly, closing the book and setting it aside. His hand reached for hers, squeezing gently. “Thank God.”

Y/n looked at him, her heart full of gratitude. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you and Jack,” she said quietly, her voice still hoarse but full of emotion.

Toto’s expression softened, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “We’ll always take care of you, Y/n. You’re everything to us.”

She smiled, her eyes growing heavy again but this time with contentment rather than exhaustion. She glanced down at Jack, who was still fast asleep, clutching one of his toy cars in his small hand. “He’s been so sweet today,” she murmured.

“He adores you,” Toto replied, his gaze shifting to their son. “We both do.”

[karlachismylife]

Thots on how they would react if you got sick?

(totally not self indulgent right now)

Oh no, my lovely spouse is sick :( Get well soon, lovie, and here are some little speedrun headcanons for you ahead of everything, as a treatment!! Beware, there are some NSFW parts under the cut :) So MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT I swear I get so upset every time I have to block some ageless blog. If it's so hard to put your age in the bio, just DO NOT TOUCH THE POST!! I'd rather keep you around to read my SFW pieces than block you altogether.

Okay sorry for yelling, here we go

CW: gn!sick!reader, reader is somewhat being stubborn about getting treatment at some points, sickness unspecified, but I wrote with something cold-adjacent in mind since we're in the cold season, a bit of controlling behavior from Ghost and Price.

Soap is Mister Indulgence. Any cravings you get, be it three kilograms of crisps for breakfast or his Mam's soup you suddenly want to taste at 2 am, he's getting his ass out of bed and runs to the store or puts on an apron to make the soup. You want some tea with sugar and lemon? How much teaspoons of sugar? What, you tried it and turned out you wanted a teaspoon less? No worries, he'll make it again. You wanna binge your favourite show? Listen to "your" song fifty times in a row? Cuddle and nap on his hot chest for eight hours? Whatever you want, bonnie, his Maw always said that good mood is the most important step in getting better, so Johnny would rather die than not keep you satisfied during sick time.

He might not be the most well-versed in medical stuff, but he definitely uses his Mam's knowledge (and she is one wise woman, I tell you) and whatever experience he has himself to get you both real treatment and some homemade remedies. Swears he doesn't get sick (ever, bonnie!) when you try to shoo him away worried he'll catch whatever you have.

Drops sick the very next day you finally are all good again (and behaves as if he's actually dying, even though he has like three times lighter symptoms than you cuz that man has an immune system of a beast).

Ghost is mean about it, cruel and ruthless. At least that's what you tell him when he wakes you up to make you drink some medicine or, even worse, change you out of your sweaty pjs, help you bathe and (this one is almost breakup-worthy betrayal) take you to a doctor. No amount of pleading, whining and pouting can deter him from making sure you're getting appropriate treatment.

Truth be told, he's probably blaming himself, because under his care you should've never gotten sick in the first place. This means he's probably checking your wardrobe and adding some warmer clothes and shoes (no more wearing old sneakers when it's already rain season!) to it, probably inspecting all the food you've eaten recently in case it was bad, proofing all the windows against drafts... and somehow he still finds time to be around you all the time, holding you in your fever-induced sleep, changing cold wet towels on your forehead and caring for you.

Might or might not catch the sickness from you, which reveals that he's an even worse patient than you, constantly grumpy, wrapped in three blankets and trying to put an indifferent face, but so, so pathetic when the fever gets actually high. He will be good if you promise to hold him in your lap and stroke his hair with cold fingers.

Gaz isn't as indulgent as Soap, but he gives you a lot of autonomy and trusts that you know best what treatment helps you. So if you say you don't feel like you need to call a doctor, he won't force you; he'll buy the medicine you tell him to buy, and if he thinks it's not the best choice, he'll just suggest an alternative, leaving the final decision up to you. Also has some homemade remedies ready to go if you're willing to try them, but leans heavily towards scientifically proven treatments.

He definitely tries to keep you if not active (no hikes or something, but maybe little walks around the apartment once the worst wave passes) then at least entertained, and not in "200 episodes of a dumb sitcom watched alone" way. Of course, if that's what you're feeling, get your sitcom fill, angel (he's not one to judge, he is keeping up with like a hundred series somehow), but if you're up to play some games, Kyle is more than happy to. Puzzles, card games, board games - maybe not so much computer games, since he wants you to be mindful of your eyes health, but a little bit? Sure. If you don't wanna play games, he still wants to keep you company so that you don't feel like you're missing out on life alone in your bed.

Probably the one who is the least likely to catch your sickness, because he ACTUALLY never gets sick, that pretty boy possesses some magic, I'm telling ya. Buf if he somehow does, he's the best patient who doesn't even need your help (but will accept it since he doesn't want you to feel guilty and it's just nice). For the three days that he's sick before he's healthier than ever.

Price is also very insistent on you getting proper treatment, but he doesn't go about it in Ghost's stern manner - no, he's a sly, smart dog, he's sweettalking you into thinking half of it is your own idea and he's just there to provide. If he needs to, he plays up his worried behavior and voila, you're already taking your medicine and days off from studies or work, simply because you don't want to worry your John's bleeding heart. Drops casually something like "good thing doc's office is on the way to the base, I can drop you off before finishing that bloody report they're wanting my head for and then pick you up, lovie" - and when you note that you actually don't feel like your sickness is doctor visit worthy, he sighs and tells you that he'll stay with you then. Of course now you have to agree, you can't let him get in trouble with the report simply because you didn't want to go to the doctor!

In all the other aspects he is absolutely doting and spoiling. Will casually look through fifteen stores until he finds the exact type of natural juice gummies you once mentioned your parents got you when you were sick. Absolutely no smoking around you or even in the apartment - and he also makes sure he doesn't smell too much of tobacco before coming into your room. Will baby you in whatever way you want (yes, he will read you your book aloud) or simply stay at your side to assist you with different things if you're not into that. But god forbid you try to get back to work or studying before John Price deems you recovered enough...

Probably catches the sickness, but pretends he didn't until it's too obvious to deny. Will do all the things he reprimanded you for: try to work, keep smoking, avoid doctor etc.

Hyena!141 bonus: they absolutely cuddle you in their hyena form and do not shift into humans when you need them to fetch something like a pillow or more paper tissues. They're your fluffy cuddle buddies that are there to grumble and purr for you soothingly, keep the chills away and lick your forehead, nape and wrists to cool the fever down. Shove their snouts in different places on your body to check the temperature (no thermometer needed!) and tickle you, give you paw massages if your muscles ache and suddenly get on their best behavior (yes, even Soap). Furry menaces who? Not them, they're the sweetest boys!

NSFW under the cut, once again, minors and ageless blogs DNI or I'll block you (and cry about it!)

CW: gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, brat tamer Ghost (so it's consensual in case I didn't make it clear enough), penetrative sex with Gaz (bottom!gn!reader).

Soap is also number one advocate of "sex is proper treatment", so if you're not feeling too bad and have some energy to spare, he'll gladly eat you out and unleash his oral fixation on you. As treatment, of course. Also maybe because you're so hot that you're practically burning his tongue and it feels as if he dipped his face into the sweetest, freshly-baked pie, when you squeeze his mug between your overheating thighs. He'll do more if that's what you want, but if all you want is to come on his face, he'll lick, suck and rub as much as you need - yes, he spilled in his sweatpants just from pleasuring you and grinding against the sheets, but can you really blame him for enjoying a warm meal a little too much? Will probably compare your "sick" taste to your "healthy" one. No, he does not know what the word "shame" means.

Ghost is reluctant to have sex when you're sick, because, well... you're sick, you shouldn't exhaust your body, because it needs all the strength to fight whatever it is you caught. But once you start getting better (and as a result much, much brattier, since now you have the energy to not just whine and pout, but also to be a little defiant shit), he is absolutely using his fingers to reward or punish you for complying or resisting the treatment. Are you being good, taking your medicine, measuring your body temperature and doing whatever else doctor told you to? Good, you deserve to cum on his fingers, lovie, just lean back and let him do all the work. What's that, you don't wanna drink your medicine, because it tastes bad, and you hid the thermometer? Well, love, he hopes you don't mind getting your temperature checked a little more old-fashioned way. And if you don't like your medicine, maybe having his fingers in your mouth, muffling all your protests, will change your mind. After all, that's what you wanted to achieve by being a brat, didn't you?

Gaz is already the king of gentle sex, but if you ask him to indulge you while you're sick, he'll be as tender as only molten marshmallow fluff can be. Caressing your feverish skin with his soft palms, making sure to avoid possibly hurting joints or muscles, going down on you with his sweet, honeyed mouth before even trying anything else. Can actually give you a perfect massage (even the normal kind) and add some lightweight petting and fingering to it. If you want to have penetrative sex though, he finds the best position (probably spooning, his arm cradling your head so it doesn't spin or hurt, and your body resting without any extreme stretches or strains) and takes you slowly and carefully. Doesn't let you worry about his orgasm at all, but if you feel like cockwarming him, he won't say no, that's for sure :) let him soak in some of that heat directly from you, angel, eh?

Price will probably need the most persuasion to engage with you sexually during your sick time, he is worrying about you too much, so the best you can get is probably his fingers and mouth closer to you already getting fully healthy again. He's just scared he'll go too rough on you regardless of how careful he's trying to be, lovie. But if he ends up catching you masturbating (and failing probably, since you're still too weak for such activities), he'll have no choice but to help you finish, careful tongue strokes and finger movements along with soft grumbling about him "leaving you just for five minutes, and you're already up to no good, love!" Don't let him fool you, he's the happiest man, because he both gets to pleasure his partner and because this means you're getting better.