#and when the doctor was putting a gauze on my neck I kept thinking I should act overdramatic bandage myself up and cosplay Dazai

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

Incoherent rambling on about Dazai's arm

Listen, I myself didn't expect my ass to end up like this but I'd be lying if I said this whole reveal didn't make me think. I started wondering about how it impacts the different aspects of Dazai's design and fan perception of him so of course I had to write a short analysis of everything that's been surrounding it and drag you into it.

No brain cells were used during the creation of this analysis.

More under the cut:

How does it impact Dazai's enjoyers?

I want to start off by saying that it's funny how people are actually divided on whether Dazai has been secretly exercising OR he has skinny twig arms. Currently, it's pretty much 50/50. Even if for now there hasn't been any consensus on which group is correct, both sides are equally enthusiastic and that's what matters. I'm not gonna use any screen shots as evidence (I'm not gonna snitch on the arm enjoyers, don't worry) so you have to believe me on this one or check it yourselves. I personally have no opinion in this regard because I don't know shit about muscles but it's been on my mind for days now and I did go down the rabbit hole so it speaks for itself.

For me, seeing a part of his arm exposed like that for the first time was actually quite surprising, because until now it has always been covered. Due to that, I interpreted it more as a character design in a similar way unrealistic anime hairstyles aren't supposed to be questioned, just accepted as they are. Not something that has any relevancy. That's why I thought we weren't going to see his skin under the bandages at all and the sight of this small part of his arm shocked me a little bit.

I like how it wasn't a dramatic reveal or anything, just him rolling up his sleeve. After 100 chapters (including the 0.5 ones too), it was so random and yet so realistic. Like irl there are mostly no grand reveals when it comes to things like tattoos or scars. People do stuff and they're visible. That's it. Obviously, it's usually more like your friend who wears contact lenses is wearing their glasses for the first time since you've met them but still, I like how Dazai showing his arm wasn't treated as a big deal by the characters. It makes me wonder how the ADA would react to this reveal.

How does it impact the consistency of Dazai's design?

Dazai usually has anywhere from 3 to 7 "big" bandage wraps throughout the manga (I'm not gonna talk about the anime because the design is slightly different) and this number isn't consistent even within the same chapter and doesn't really change (the number becomes neither bigger nor smaller over time. It's mostly consistently 3–7 wraps, so I think Harukawa pays attention to that so very cool on their part). I think there were 2 instances when there were shown more bandage wraps and they were when he was in the hospital and when he was threatening Kouyou.

Sidenote: in the Kouyou panel, he's rolling up his right sleeve, so it's possible that he wears more bandages on the right arm than on the left. I don't think it was ever explicitly stated that he wears his bandages symmetrically, so even if we collectively agreed on that, it still might be wrong. If he wears them asymmetrically, I'm gonna go feral.

What it means in practice is that we can't really argue about the number of wraps while analysing this panel as the number of wraps shown here is within the usual range, so it's realistic.

What is more, the length of the coat changes too, HOWEVER, it never goes above the elbow (besides that one instance shown below). From my observation, it doesn't even go higher than the exact point of the bandage wrap end in this chapter. If I'm correct, it will mean that there were times in the manga when the sleeve was barely covering the bandage, but usually it was down the middle part of his forearm, so no plot holes here.

I quickly want to say that as a fan of coats I love Dazai's design and the fact that his coat changes length depending on movement like coats do

How does it impact the aesthetic factor?

To begin with, we don't really know if this length is how Dazai always wears his bandages or if he's wearing them like that in the current chapter because he's in prison and they don't allow him to wear more. For the sake of my wondering, I'm gonna go with the former, but the latter is just as possible.

We don't know exactly how much skin Dazai leaves uncovered but we definitely see how much is left covered and that is at least most of his forearms and his neck probably down to his sternum [did you guys know that all vertebrate besides fish have sterna? I keep learning because of bsd] because the most unbuttoned shirt we've seen him wear is in the 4th chapter and he has bandages there.

If Dazai wears bandages for the aesthetic, it makes sense for them to only be present where people can see them.

How does it impact the functional factor?

There's obviously the idea that he wears bandages not to accidentally nullify people around him and in this case, it would make sense for him to only wear bandages where people can directly touch his skin. From what we've seen up until now, this option doesn't seem likely, but it's still my go to theory when someone asks me why Dazai wears bandages. It could be a mixture of this and what I'm about to discuss.

I think this is the part when I have to put a trigger warning because I will discuss stuff surrounding self-harming.

From what Oda said in the light novel, we can figure out that the main reason (or at least a partial reason if he really does do it for The Fashion) why Dazai wears bandages is due to the scars he has. It's important that we're never told what these scars exactly are, where they're located and how Dazai got them. It's implied that a vast majority is due to self-harm and Dazai's "clumsiness" but we've also see him get shot or stabbed multiple times so these things definitely left scars.

When it comes to self-harm, it makes sense that his scars would be located at the lower part of his forearms or somewhere we can't see them. There are some lines visible on his elbow but whether they're scars or just shadows or some other art style thing, it's hard to tell. I also want to say that whether Dazai self-harms or not doesn't change his morality. Having or not having scars doesn't make anyone more or less human. Scarring is something permanent so judging somebody's morality based on scars they can't undo is unfair. I've seen people talking about it, so I wanted to quickly share my 2 cents.

There's also the aspect of his neck and if he's hiding scars there I think it's probably either something to do with being shot/slashed there (like certain characters did in the past, not saying any names but we all know who I'm taking about) or failed hanging attempts. Both seem plausible enough so we will have to wait and see.

In conclusion

Dazai's arm reveal was a very cool event that didn't completely destroy people's vision of Dazai but at the same time raised some new questions. Right now, I'm wondering the most if his bandages are symmetrical because, as I said, I kind of accepted that they are, but this chapter made me think that maybe I shouldn't have. If Dazai wears asymmetrical bandages, I'll like his design even more because I adore this kind of asymmetry in character designs.

We still don't know the exact purpose of these bandages but if Dazai had no problem randomly showing his uncovered skin around the DOA members, it means it doesn't matter to him. Or at least it isn't that much of a big deal as it could've seem from how secretive he was before. Maybe his feelings surrounding bandages changed throught the series?

I wonder if we're going to see more of Dazai's skin in the future or if that was just a one-time thing from Asagiri and Harukawa to send us into a frenzy. If they wanted to turn us into victorian townfolks who go crazy because they've seen an ankle for the first time then they succeeded. Oh, they succeeded.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Or

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

[the-iceni-bitch]

Fix You

Pairing: angsty!soft!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Words: 4173

Summary: Bucky has been working hard at getting over the trauma that came from being the Winter Soldier, and you do your best to help him through it. But a particularly painful memory almost breaks him.

Warnings: ANGST (I’m so sorry y’all), explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex), soft!broken!Bucky, fluffy ending, TW: this fic contains implications of animal cruelty in a character’s past. It is extremely vague and non-specific but I will put a warning in the text itself if you still would like to read but this particular type of thing upsets you. Please be mindful of it my soft babies!! SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: This is my entry to the Happy Hoelentine’s Day gift exchange hosted by the absolutely fabulous @chrissquares​, @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder​. My giftee was @bucky-the-thigh-slayer happy v-day sweetie! 😘

Soo, apparently, I cannot just write a sprinkling of angst, I have to write cut your heart out of your chest and watch it beat in front of your face angst. This fic made me cry while writing it so if you are a big softie, you might want to skip this one. Don’t worry, I gave everyone a nice, fluffy, soft ending to soothe the pain!

Happy Hoelentine’s y’all! Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

dividers are made by the lovely @chrissquares

not my GIF

You weren’t sure what had initially roused you from sleep. Maybe it was the fact that you were used to Bucky’s frame being draped over you, smothering you with his body heat. Whatever had woken you at first, the sound of shattering glass snapped you from your dazed state immediately.

You flew out of the bed and ran towards the bathroom. The light was leaking from underneath the door and when you wrenched it open, you swore under your breath.

Bucky was seated on the floor by the tub, his head in his hands as sobs wracked his chest. The mirror over the sink was smashed, pieces of reflective glass scattered all over the counter and across the floor.

You ignored it, not even noticing as you cut the bottoms of your feet while making your way to him. You knelt beside him and drew him to you, tucking his head under your chin as you ran your hands over his back, trying to calm him down.

“I’m here, Buck.” You murmured as you pressed your lips to his hair. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps as he leaned into you, and you could tell he was still upset. “Do you want to talk about it, honey?”

He just shook his head as another sob ripped out of him, his fingers wrapping in your sleep shirt.

You knew this was all part of the process. Bucky had been working with Bruce and his psychiatrist for 6 months now on identifying and moving past his repressed memories, but damn if it didn’t break you heart every time a new one popped up. This one must have been especially painful, he hadn’t had a breakdown like this in months.

“Sweetie, I’m gonna call Bruce, ok?” He was still a mess, even with you there, and it made you worried.

“No, don’t leave me.” He looked up at you desperately as he leaned against your shoulder, his eyes a startling blue from his tears as he pleaded with you.

“Shit, Bucky.” God, you fucking hated seeing him like this. You felt so helpless. “I can call from here. FRIDAY? Let Banner know we need him, stat.”

“Will do, Y/N.” The AI chirped back at you.

You reached your arm to the sink and turned it on, running a washcloth under the warm water before bringing it back to rest against his forehead.

“Y/N? Bucky? It’s me, Bruce.” You heard Banner call from the front door.

“Yeah, we’re in the bathroom.” You called. Your shoulder was soaked with snot and tears as Bucky continued weeping against you.

“Jesus, what happened?” Bruce hissed when he found you, picking his was through the broken glass as he knelt to examine Bucky, opening his medical case.

“I dunno Bruce, I woke up and found him like this.” You did your best to straighten Bucky up as Bruce took his pulse before pulling back to assemble his otoscope.

“Ok, Barnes, I’m gonna give you a sedative, buddy.” Bruce murmured as he dug in his case again, bringing out a vial and syringe. “I called his doctor when I heard from you and she’s on her way, but she was in Chicago for a conference, so she won’t be in until later this morning. She gave me the ok to calm him down for now.”

You just nodded as you stroked Bucky’s hair, doing your best to distract him as Bruce wound the tourniquet around his arm before plunging in the needle. He released the band before pushing down the plunger, and you felt Bucky relax against you almost immediately.

“I hate this so much, Bruce. I just want to be able to do something for him.”

“You’re doing it, Y/N. I don’t think his recovery would be going so well if he didn’t have you.” He looked down at your feet and winced. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“What? Oh, fuck.” Now that Bucky wasn’t occupying your attention, the slices on your feet and knees were throbbing.

“I don’t think you need any stitches, but I’m gonna use some skin glue to keep these from opening up repeatedly.” He muttered, rinsing the cuts with a betadine solution before patting them dry with some gauze.

“Thanks Bruce. Can you help me get him back to the bed?” You asked as he finished his work, throwing a towel over the broken glass and shoving it out of the way.

“Sure.” You each put one of his arms over your shoulders and hauled him to his feet, shuffling awkwardly back to the bedroom. “Dr. Laurent should be here around 10, if you could get him to the med center around then?”

“Of course Bruce, thank you so much.”

He just waved you off as he left, closing the door gently behind him. You changed into a new t-shirt and climbed back into bed, curling yourself around Bucky as you tried to fall back asleep, failing miserably.

  It had been two weeks since Bucky’s breakdown. His nightmares had gotten better, but you could tell he was still upset about things. He was barely talking to you, and he hadn’t initiated sex during that whole period. You could maybe coax some small talk out of him over meals, but you could tell he was avoiding talking to you about what he remembered. All you wanted to do was comfort him and he wasn’t letting you.

Dr. Laurent assured you that they were working through it, but that this particular memory was harder to move past. All you wanted to do was comfort him, but he wouldn’t let you close.

The two of you were sitting together in silence, you were going over some field reports with your feet resting in Bucky’s lap as he read some trash mystery novel that you would usually tease him about. Your phone rang from the coffee table and you stretched to pick it up, grinning when you saw it was your sister.

“Hey Frankie!” You said cheerily as you picked up. “What’s going on?”

Bucky smiled to himself sadly as he listened to you chat with your sister. He felt so guilty about what he was doing to you. You were amazing, and kind, but he was so worried that if he let you all the way in, you’d see what a monster he was and leave him.

“Oh my god, a puppy!?” You squealed, and Bucky felt all the blood drain from his face. “Send me all the pictures! We’ll have to come visit soon and meet him.”

Bucky stood up and walked towards the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water and drinking it down greedily.

“Hey, Frankie, can I call you back tomorrow? Great, love you!” You had picked up on Buck’s change in demeanor and followed after him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He muttered, filling his glass again and taking a sip.

You let out a deep sigh at his attempt to dodge. You knew you weren’t supposed to push him, but watching him withdraw from you like this was killing you.

“Bucky, please talk to me.” You pleaded, fighting the urge to go to him and wrap your arms around him, drawing all his pain into yourself as you held him tight.

He shook his head at you as he set his glass down on the counter, avoiding making eye contact. “I can’t.”

You took in a sharp breath at the crack in his voice and your resolve broke. You took three steps forward and pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringin his forehead down to lean against yours.

“It’s ok, I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, bringing up one hand to run through his hair, trying your best to soothe him as you watched tears leak from his eyes.

“Promise?”

“Fuck, of course I promise.” You murmured before pressing your lips softly to his. “Bucky, I’m not going to leave you. I love you.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a deep sigh, inhaling your scent and letting the warm comfort of your body relax him. You kept stroking his back and hair, waiting for him to speak.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

“When I first woke up,” He started after several minutes of silence, still not looking at you. “They would never let me outside. It was almost a year before I saw sunlight. They eventually let me out once they were sure the brainwashing had done its job, but only for a little while. There was…”

He choked on his words and you made soft soothing sounds against his cheek, doing your best to not hold your breath as he opened up to you, worried you were going to spook him like a baby deer.

“There was this tiny stray mutt I found on the compound one day. It was hiding in a little hole in the wall with an injured paw, scared of everything. I managed to sneak out some of my rations the next day for him, and did the same thing for the next week. He wouldn’t take the food from me directly, but I would leave it for him, and it would all be gone when I came back.

“It took a few weeks before he would take the food from my hand, and a couple more before he would let me pet him. Seeing that little guy was the best part of my day. The only break I had from the fighting and the torture. Sometimes he’d crawl into my lap and curl up, and those were the days I thought about making a run for it.” Bucky finally looked at you, giving you a sad smile as he pressed his forehead to yours again before screwing his eyes shut. “I named him Vladik.

“I don’t know why it took them so long to figure out he was there. The guards were supposed to be watching my every move. I wasn’t supposed to have anything for myself, no happiness or solace. And that was all he was. Just a harmless little friend. But the Soldat couldn’t have any friends.

“When the doctor in charge of my programming found out, he told me to bring him the dog, and he… he made me…”

⚠️END TRIGGER WARNING⚠️

He started sobbing before he could finish, and you felt tears running down your own cheeks as you held him tightly, the two of you sinking to the floor as Bucky wept in your arms. You curled yourself around him, wishing you could do something to just take all of that pain from him.

It was an hour before either of you moved. You were stiff from leaning against the counter for so long, but until Bucky started to straighten up, you didn’t even notice. He drew you up after him and you moaned as you unfolded yourself, your legs tingling as blood rushed back into them.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” He whispered against your hair with a heavy sigh, drawing you into another deep embrace. “Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

“I love you too, honey.” You murmured, pressing your lips to his forehead. “I’ll be right there.”

You left him to strip out of his clothes as you headed to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you splashed cold water on your face, trying to keep yourself from having a meltdown.

You were so relieved he had finally opened up to you. But every fiber of your being just wanted to fix all of this, and the fact that you couldn’t was killing you. You choked back a sob as you bent over the sink, bile rising in your throat. It took you a few minutes to fully calm down, but you got your emotions under control with some deep breathing.

You splashed your face a few more times before heading back out to the bedroom. Bucky was still up, sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for you. He gave you a small smile as you walked toward him, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face against your stomach.  You moaned as he started to lift your shirt, pressing his lips to your skin softly as his fingers traveled to brush against your breast, squeezing it gently.

He held you tightly and turned his body until you were laying on the bed underneath him. He crawled up your torso slowly until his face was hovering above yours. His vibranium palm cupped your cheek softly as he gazed into your eyes before bending to kiss you, his mouth needy against yours as he bit at your lips before pressing his tongue to yours, drawing a whine from your throat.

Bucky ran his hand down your throat before his fingers started working to unbutton your blouse. He made quick work of it and his mouth moved to your neck as he slid it down your shoulders. You gasped and moved your hands to wind in his hair as he unclasped your bra and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and swirling his tongue around it until it was peaked and sensitive. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he moved to your other nipple, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to move down your body.

His tongue dipped into your navel as he worked at undoing your jeans, pulling them down your legs swiftly along with your panties before diving between your legs.

He had missed this. Those soft sounds of want you made were a panacea for his wounds, soothing his heart as he moved his lips over your sex, his tongue running through your folds as he lapped up your arousal. You arched into his mouth when he pressed against your clit, your hands digging into his hair as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread open for him.

He moaned against you as you wriggled beneath him, your back arching and relaxing as he brought you closer to your release. You grip on his hair was bordering on painful as you tightened it, and he relished your loss of control as you fought to close your thighs around his head and press him even closer.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly. He finally released your legs and you wrapped them around his neck as he pushed two metal fingers into you, making you yelp.

He scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your canal as he drew obscene squelches from deep within you. He loved the feel of your pussy clenching and fluttering around him, trying to draw his fingers even deeper inside you as he edged you towards your climax.

When he curled them against that sweet, secret spot within you, you lost it. Your heels duck into his shoulders and your back arched you off the bed violently as you clamped down on his fingers. You screamed as your release flowed into his mouth, making him moan as it covered his chin. He licked his lips as he straightened above you, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. It tasted like home.

He gazed down at you lovingly as he removed his boxers, kicking them away before bending to kiss you deeply. Bucky kept his mouth on yours as he crawled onto the bed, tucking his knees under your thighs as he pressed one palm against the small of your back, drawing you up to straddle his lap.

“I love you so fucking much.” He whispered against your lips, running his fingertips through your hair before his tongue was invading your mouth, curling against and tangling with yours as he stole all the breath from your lungs. His metal hand curved over your ass as he ground his hips into you, running his cock through your slick folds. “I need to hear you say it, please doll.”

“God, Bucky. I love you.” You panted as he positioned himself at your entrance, making you whine as he breached you with just his tip. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he pulled you onto him and you hissed through your teeth as you stretched around his length, relishing in the sting you felt each time he entered you.

“Never leave me.” He pleaded as his hips started moving, his thrusts slow and sensuous as he stared deeply into your eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure as you lost yourself in the feeling of being filled with him.

“Never.” You murmured as he buried his face against your neck. “Fuck, baby.”

Your head rolled back as he picked up the pace just barely, his pubic bone grinding against your clit with each thrust and bringing you close to your edge. He nuzzled himself between your breasts and mouthed against your soft slopes gently as you tightened one hand around the back of his neck.

One particularly forceful drive had you falling backwards with a gasp. You managed to catch yourself on one arm and you pressed your toes against the mattress on either side of his hips, doing your best to keep your balance as your pussy clenched around him.

“Fuck, right there.” You whispered, your nails digging into his neck.

He brushed his teeth against your nipple and you almost collapsed against the bed, but Bucky wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to him as your body spasmed uncontrollably, quivering in his grasp as your pussy fluttered and your release seeped out of you, soaking both of your thighs.

“You feel so good doll.” He murmured against your chest as he kept fucking into you, still moving in rich, deep plunges that made it hard for you to breathe. “So tight and warm. I fucking lose myself in this pussy.”

All you could do was whine as you wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his neck tightly. You took in a sharp breath when he suddenly lifted himself off his knees and pushed even deeper into you, his cock hitting a new spot inside you that had you seeing stars. He gripped his hands tightly at the small of your back as he ground against you.

He hit you at just the right spot and you came again, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his hair as your body vibrated against his. He inhaled your scent with a moan as he fell forward, catching himself on his vibranium hand before he collapsed on top of you.

You kept your body wrapped tightly around his as he held you in that position with one arm, carrying all of your weight as his hips started moving violently, slapping against the back of your thighs as soft wet sounds came from between the two of you. It only took a few thrusts before you were cumming again, screaming against Bucky’s neck as the coil in your stomach snapped, your muscles finally giving out as you rode the wave of your pleasure, your body rolling underneath him as you released his neck and he let you sink back onto the bed, your arms falling above your head and your feet coming to rest on either side of his knees.

Bucky kept one arm hooked under the small of your back, arching your body at a beautiful angle as his hips started to stutter, his cock twitching inside of you as he neared his own end.

“Gimme one more doll.” He whispered, mesmerized by the way your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips, and the way your face had that blissful, fucked out look as you bit your lip and screwed your eyes shut.

He ground his hips in a circle with his next thrust and smiled as your body tried to curl off the bed. You sobbed as you came, crying his name as your thighs squeezed his hips and your cunt milked his cock. He collapsed on top of you as he came right behind you, his spend shooting into harshly, painting your canal in thick white ropes as his hips stilled.

You held him to you tightly, refusing to let him go as the two of you drifted off to sleep. All you wanted was to rest with him inside you, and he needed to feel you around him, to let you know that you were his home, his haven against all the pain of his past. You smiled as you felt his breath grow deep with sleep, your hand resting on his back as your own slumber took you.

  Bucky made a lot of progress over the next few weeks. Telling you had lifted a weight from his shoulders that he didn’t realize he was carrying. His sleep was still interrupted by nightmares occasionally, but every time he woke up to find you next to him was like a balm for his soul.

He was finally starting to feel truly happy, and that made you happy. Dr. Laurent had finally given the ok for him to start going on missions again, and that was great, but he really found fulfillment at home with you, and the best part of his day was when he walked through the front door to find you waiting for him.

You were excited for Valentine’s Day. It felt like the first holiday you could really enjoy as a couple as he had made so much progress. You were thankful that Steve had kept him occupied all day, giving you a chance to work on your present for him. He was out for a run in the rain right now as you put the final touches on the meal, reviewing the recipe a final time as you set the table, shrugging to yourself and lighting the candles.

You almost dropped your match when you heard him open the front door, cursing as you narrowly avoided setting the tablecloth on fire.

“In here baby!” You called as he came inside, shaking himself from the rain. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Aww, doll, this looks… is that aspic?” He asked, one eyebrow cocked as he eyed the meal you had set out for him.

“Sure is!” You said with a grin as you eyed the brown, gelatinous entrée, doing your best to tamp down your nausea. “Steve said it was your favorite back in the day, so I decided to surprise you.”

“Steve?” He asked, a grin spreading over his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You asked Rogers what to get me for Valentine’s Day?”

You studied the look on his face and looked back at the meal, considering things.

“That motherfucker.” You said as he broke down, laughing hysterically. “I’m going to murder that giant.”

“I can’t believe you thought I would actually like this!” He said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I dunno, the 30s were a weird time!” You cursed yourself in your mind for being so gullible. “Well shit, I wasted a whole day. I’m ordering Chinese.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself doll, it’s the thought that counts.” He said, giving you a mock pout before wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair. You yelped when you felt something move in his hoody.

“What the fuck, Barnes?” You screeched as his pocket squirmed, something inside it making a tiny squeaking sound.

“Uhh, don’t be mad.” He said sheepishly as he tucked his hand into his pocket and drew out a tiny, white kitten who was screaming bloody murder. “I found her in a ditch when I was on my run, and it didn’t seem like her mother was anywhere nearby. I didn’t want to just leave her out there.”

“Oh my fucking god, Bucky!” You reached out and he handed her to you. You wrapped your hands around her loosely and cradled her against her chest. “We need a heating pad.”

“What?” He asked confused for a second.

“She’s barely a week old honey, she can’t regulate her own body temperature, go get my heating pad from the bathroom.”

“So, we’re keeping her?” He asked, a grin spreading over his face as he rushed into the bathroom.

“Of course we’re keeping her Barnes.” You scoffed at him. “FRIDAY, we need kitten milk replacer as soon as possible, and specialty feeding bottles for newborns. And get a vet here too.”

“On it, Y/N. There’s a house call veterinarian that can be here in one hour, and the rest of your supplies should arrive within 30 minutes.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.” You were making soft cooing noises at the baby as Bucky came back into the room with the heating pad, and he practically groaned at the smile you gave him.

“Happy Valentine’s day, doll.” He murmured as he kissed your hair and wrapped one arm around you, handing you the heating pad.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Buck.” You whispered back at him. “What should we name her?”

“What do you think of Alpine?”

Tags!

@buckysnumberonegirl​ @slothspaghettiwrites​ @captain-asguard ​ @starlightcrystalline​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @bonkywobble​ @chrisevanscardigan ​ @chubbybuckydumpling​ @StanAllStarks @blackestpinkworld​ @fistmebuckyskywalker​  @wandering-spiritash h​ @khadineberry​ @shutupstevie @muzzyandbusy​ @slytheriin2002 02​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl ​ @isysen en​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @stargazingfangirl18 ​ @jack-skellingtons-stuff @chrissquares

[alltooreid]

congrats on 100<33

✏️ - idk if this is a good enough concept but something along the lines of reader being scared of something (can be a thunder storm or haunted house or anything u want lol) and spencer comforts reader

(reader can be fem. (she/her) or gn (they/them), it doesn’t matter to me)

i hope this made sense, i didn’t wna go to into detail that way u could work freely with it lolll 💓

omg this makes perfect sense and it’s such a cute idea!! I went a little overboard and this got really long because I added a little meet-cute situation but I hope you love it anyway!! Also I changed Y/N’s fear because I had a really good idea and you were so open!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Type: comfort so like angst/fluff idk??

Word Count: 1.4K (oops)

Content Warnings: discussion of blood

When Y/N was five years old they told their mom they wanted to be a doctor. However, when one is five years old they assume being a doctor only entails helping people, being nice to children and giving them lollipops and that seemed like the best career choice ever.

However, when Y/N was six years old they went on a bike ride with their next door neighbor, a girl their age named Rebecca. This particular neighborhood friend loved to play dangerously and had conceived a game like tag, however you had to stay on the bike the entire time. Although innocent on paper, about 12 minutes into the game Rebecca had stood up on the seat of her bicycle in an attempt to get a better reach at Y/N and tumbled over the front handlebars.

She shook it off quickly and by the time Y/N had rushed over to help she was already on her feet.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked in a panic.

Rebecca brushed some rocks off her shorts, looked up at Y/N and smiled, “Yep! That was so much fun!” she said, going in for a high five.

Rebecca however, was not okay and had failed to notice that two of the “rocks” she had brushed off were actually her two front teeth. When she smiled and spoke to Y/N they were overcome with panic when they saw her mouth, missing two teeth and gushing blood.

So naturally, they immediately passed out.

Rebecca quickly ran to get her mother, more concerned for Y/N than herself, and still hadn’t even noticed her teeth’s absence. Both children were driven to the hospital, and although Y/N woke up on the way, they got checked out to make sure they didn’t have a concussion.

Soon after they were clear Y/N’s parents arrived. Hovering over their six year old and asking all sorts of questions, the first and only thing Y/N thought to do is turn to their mother. “Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I don’t think I wanna be a doctor anymore.”

Y/N’s mother laughed and wrapped her arms around the crying child, “Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

Even with their fear of blood, Y/N career ambitions remained the same: help people, be nice to children, hand out lollipops. So when they graduated Y/N started their own candy store. It was the perfect job for such a sweet soul, and by the time they were 28 Y/N had perfected their storefront. Glass displays were replaced with plastic to prevent people cutting themselves if they broke, they keep a small collection of different patterned and themed band-aids right next to the cash register and without fail had at least one medical student working in the summer in between school years (in case of emergencies).

But no amount of prepping could help Y/N when Dr. Spencer Reid came into their store with his four year old godson.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched Spencer and Henry zoom around the empty store, Henry throwing all kinds of sugary sweets into his basket and Spencer encouraging the entire thing. Soon enough the two were at the register and dumping at least eighty dollars worth of candy on the counter. Y/N began ringing it up, but was soon interrupted by the small child, barely in sight because of the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me? Do you have a band-aid? I got a paper cut.”

“Yes I do! What kind of band-aid do you want?”

“Ummmm do you have Spiderman?”

“Of course I have Spiderman! Here you go,” they said, setting it on the counter.

“Can you put it on for me?” He reached up his little finger to show Y/N his cut.

Quickly jolting their head, Y/N panicked “Um maybe you could have your dad help you with that. . .”

“Of course, I’m sorry, and I’m actually his godfather. . . “ He looked up and noticed Y/N’s aversion to the cut, “It’s safe to look now.”

Y/N sighed, “I’m sorry, I just can’t stand blood. What did he cut it on?”

Henry was entertaining himself flipping through the pages of his godfather’s abnormally large book, not reading it of course, because although Henry was smart for a four year old, he was not yet fluent in Russian.

“Oh nothing that’s your fault,” the man said. He was then nudged by his godson, and apparently, personal wingman, “Um, I’m Spencer!”

“Hi Spencer! I’m Y/N,” they smiled, finishing their calculations, “Um, your total is $81.92”

He was thrown off, “That’s not right, it should be 96.37. . . Did you forget something?”

“Actually your forgetting my 15% injury discount, and the extra lollipop I give to nice kids,” they reached down to hand Henry a raspberry lemonade lollipop.

“You really don’t have to do that! It was my fault really-”

“No seriously, trust me I’m kind of ripping you off here. I combined the injury discount and the cute guy discount.”

Spencer blushed, “Um well maybe we could go get coffee sometime to make it up to me.”

“I would love that”

On this coffee date Y/N learned about Spencer’s job and was shocked he would go on a date with someone who was scared of papercuts. However Spencer explained he found it admirable that someone could be so affected by other people’s pain, and later into their relationship discussed how he wished he was as affected by the gore of his job as he was during the beginning.

Their romance worked perfectly, Spencer loved having someone waiting at home for him, a person who could be completely separate from work and the cases that affected him so much that he needed to talk about them typically ended up involving more manipulation than gore.

But just over a year in Y/N got a phone call from Aaron Hotchner.

Spencer had been shot in the neck.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible, and rushed to Spencer’s room, completely forgetting about the things they were almost certainly going to see.

So when Y/N walked in at the worst possible moment, as Spencer was getting his gauze changed and his open wound was in full view, they freaked out, letting out a quick scream and crouching to the ground, covering their eyes with their hands.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N did their best and eventually had made their way to Spencer’s bedside chairs, only having to peek twice. Once there, Y/N’s hands remained firmly locked over their eyes, both to protect themselves from the blood and to cover their panicked tears from Spencer.

“Y/N, close your eyes tight and remove your hands for me darling.”

They shook their head aggressively. Spencer sighed, “Trust me, I’ve got you.” So they did, and as they kept their eyes glued shut, Y/N felt Spencer use his thumb to wipe tears from their cheeks, before tying something around their eyes.

“See, now you can’t see the blood, and I can hold you,” he said, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands and kissing the back of it now that gauze had been tied around their eyes.

Quickly Y/N wrapped their arms around Spencer’s middle as best as they could with him laying down, and cried into him. Spencer soothed them by petting their hair, “It’s okay darling, they just changed the gauze so it’s gone now, there’s no more blood if you feel ready to take it off.”

Y/N sobbed more and ripped their makeshift blind fold off, “I’m so stupid. . . You got shot and you have to comfort me because of a little blood . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that, you are not stupid. You’re scared and overwhelmed. I already knew I was okay but you didn’t when you came in there, not only that but as soon as you came into this extremely stressful situation you were greeted with your worst fear. You’re all I’m worried about right now.”

Y/N smiled “I’m so happy you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well luckily you don’t have to worry about it.”

-Thank you for reading!! please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

Holly’s tiny taglist!!: @hercleverboy @reidingmelodies @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyouleap-of-faith 

(let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

[thusspoketrish]

Words Are Very Unnecessary

TW: Dark fic; Angst; mental illness; mention of past suicide attempt; implied self-harm; scarring; psychiatric ward; unethical medical practices/harm; inappropriate patient/doctor/staff interactions; shifting tenses

Created for the prompt Pretend for @drarrymicrofic

Title taken from Depeche Mode’s Enjoy the Silence

3.3K words. This is something that I may consider coming back to expand on in the future. READ ON AO3.

A heartwarming thank you to @starlitsilvereyes for the thorough beta!

When Healer Robins announces that Harry will not be carrying out his final rotation at St Mungo’s, he’s shocked. He’s done everything he can within the last few months to prove himself capable: he’s completed his clinical rotations with commendations, he’s saved lives, he’s brought coffee and donuts in from his favourite bakery in Diagon every Friday, and he’s even played nice with the first-year Trainee Healers. But as Healer Robins announces his fate, Harry not only feels the bottom of his stomach fall—he can practically feel the smug smile burning a hole into the back of his head from his colleague, competitor, and overall pain in his arse, Blaise Zabini.

“I’m sorry Harry, but Blaise has already proven quite successful with some of the patients in Janus Thickey. I’m afraid that if we remove him, many of the patients will respond negatively to the change,” Healer Robins says, aiming a warm smile at Zabini.

“And you have a muggle vehicle, that James Bond-looking thing, am I right, Harry?” Zabini asks.

Harry turns to face him. He hates to admit it, but Zabini looks attractive in the lime green robes—but everything about him is stylish, with his broad shoulders, his fancy clothing under his robes, his stylish haircut. Too stylish for a Healer, Harry thinks glumly, staring down at his beat-up trainers he’s had for three years now. Harry grimaces as the other man smiles widely at him. He’d wager his entire Gringotts vault that Zabini has charmed a tooth to twinkle when he smiles like that.

“Yeah, why?” Harry grunts. He doesn’t want to show just how disappointed he is over missing out on the Thickey Ward, but he’s never been that great at compartmentalising his feelings.

“You’ll need one where you’re going,” Healer Robins says.

--------

As soon as Harry pulled his sleek black ’52 Jaguar XK-120 (a result of his quarter-life crisis earlier in the year) into the driveway of St Peter’s Asylum, the 16th century estate sends a chill up his spine. He exits his car and ambles around the property for a while, wanting to gain a better sense of his new work environment. There’s a 25-mile-long anti-Apparition ward surrounding the property and no Floo Network connection. Everything about the property felt duplicitous. The beautiful large bay windows were covered excessively with sharp, pointy metal bars, stained-glass depicting religious iconography were covered in grime and spiderwebs. The columned archway framing the front entrance has cracks in them and are covered in rotting foliage. Behind the estate is a crematorium where ominous black smoke currently poured from the vents, spilling upward into the grey sky. He should have known then that something was amiss.

After a confusing meeting with Head Healer Madison, a quick introduction to the nurses and orderlies, Harry is shown to his small, gloomy office. Settled in, when he finally glanced through the files of his new patients, he nearly spilled his coffee on the pile.

He did not expect to see Draco Malfoy on his rota.

He can recall the last time he saw Malfoy, right after the trials, when Harry’s testimony wasn’t enough to save him completely from time in Azkaban, but anything after? He can’t. He does not recall exactly how much time Malfoy served—had it been three years or four? Did he receive early release or was that his father? How had Harry simply put Malfoy out of his mind after everything they had both been through? How had Zabini not warned him Malfoy would be in a psychiatric ward? Did he even know?

All these questions left a sour taste in Harry’s mouth. He had asked Healer Madison to give Malfoy’s file to a different Healer due to the conflict of interest, but there were no other Healers that would take Malfoy, and so Harry was left with a quandary: either help Malfoy or they’ll send him back to Azkaban, untreated, to serve out the rest of his sentence.

Malfoy’s file was as depressing as Harry imagined it to be.

Malfoy was considered a permanent resident on the ward, but the history is muddled as to why he’s been labelled permanent if his psychiatric care was part of his early release requirements from Azkaban. The threadbare treatment plan had no end goals or date to reintegrate Malfoy into Magical society. The file simply read of an attempted suicide in Azkaban, manic depression, and tendencies towards excessive violence to not just himself but those around him when angered—this was one of the reasons Healers refused him care. He had apparently injured the last three, one almost fatally. He’s been kept heavily medicated, but lately has been refusing treatment. The nurses have been providing the necessary potions intravenously.

Malfoy also hasn’t uttered a single word to anyone—not staff or other patients—for over two years.

From the gossip that the nurses regularly indulged in, Harry was able to learn that Malfoy befriended a young Scottish man named Ziggy and an elderly woman named Lottie that was also considered mute and antisocial. Ziggy had died exactly over two years ago under mysterious conditions and his body was sent to the crematorium instead of autopsied by the local Medical Examiner. When Harry had brought this oversight to Healer Madison, he had been scolded and suspended for three days for viewing files not assigned to him. She threatened to send him back to St. Mungos if he continued to work on the files that have been sealed by the Chief Healer, which would result in him failing his final rotation.

This, of course, further fuelled Harry’s interests.

-------

Harry began to watch Draco’s condition much more closely.

The other man still wouldn’t utter a word to Harry, and sometimes he wondered if Draco even recognised who he was sitting in front of, his eyes unfocused, body slumped in his chair with his bandaged arms wrapped around his body, his long blond hair falling to his shoulders in messy clumps.

Harry began to discover bruises around Draco’s wrists when they’d meet for sessions. When they began to appear around Draco’s neck, and finally, his left eye, Harry calmly enquired about it, and this sent Draco into a silent, violent frenzy. Draco had shoved most of the contents on Harry’s desk to the floor, thrown books at the walls, and ripped one of his bandages free to viciously dig his nails up and down his arm. Harry had to call a CODE RED as he scrambled to unlock his wand from the warded drawer of his desk to Stupefy Draco before he reopened all his wounds. It was the first time Harry had seen any kind of real reaction from the other man and quite frankly, it scared the hell out of him. He had watched helplessly as the orderlies rushed in to gather Draco’s limp body from the floor.

Later that day, he approached Healer Madison.

“I’d like the evaluation forms for any other medical treatments Mr Malfoy is having here,” Harry had demanded. She had popped her gum in Harry’s face before rolling her eyes at his request.

“Those records are private, Potter. For the Chief Healer’s eyes only,” she had said.

“Well, I need the evaluation forms as well. I should be aware of any changes in treatment methods, considering Malfoy is one of my patients.”

Healer Madison patted Harry on the shoulder. “Relax, Potter. No need to be such a bloody worry-wort. Code reds happen all the time here. You’ll soon come to realise how we do things at St Peter’s.”

-------

Harry left the hospital at 5pm every day. Like clockwork, when he’s just about to get into his car, he’ll look up to the third-floor window of the recreation room where he’ll catch Draco staring down at him through the slats of the bars. Each time, the monster in Harry’s chest that’s begun to grow with Harry’s concern and affection for Draco, roared to life. He knew it would be just a matter of time before Draco ended up dead if Harry did not figure out what’s going on in this hospital.

--------

On a particularly cold, grey day in October, one month into Harry’s rotation at St Peter’s, Harry enters the third-floor recreation room. All of Harry’s patients have been improving greatly, Draco in particular. Intravenous treatment ended a week ago as he’s now more cooperative in taking his medication by mouth. His self-harming had eased somewhat, but there were still bad days that Harry monitored closely. Draco interacts with staff and his friend Lottie again, sitting next to her to watch the Muggle telly or just holding her wrinkled hand as they both stare out the window. His grey gaze seemed stronger, more focused, determined, even. It made Harry happy to see a sliver of the person he once knew shining through, and he hoped it would just be a matter of time before Draco speaks, so Harry can help him.

Harry glances around the room. Soft music is playing from off the telly. There's plenty of places to sit, but he opts to walk over to the window where Draco is sitting and playing chess by himself. The man’s wrists are bandaged again, no doubt from picking at his scars. Harry can see a patch of blood through the gauze and wonders why none of the nurses have been around to replace them. He wishes he had his wand (which is locked in his office for safety reasons) so he can replace the bandage himself.

“Draco,” Harry starts warmly. “How are you doing today?”

Draco looks up from the board and Harry gasps. There’s another brutal black eye around his left eye, and the top of his lip is split. Harry reaches out, his fingers lightly touching Draco’s lips before grazing along his jaw. Draco remains very, very still under Harry’s touch, his lips parting slightly as his chest heaves. When Harry remembers himself, he snatches his hand back as if he’s been burned.

“Who did this to you?” Harry hisses.

For a moment, Draco’s eyes turn incredibly bright as he exhales a phlegmy breath before his gaze shutters. Harry sits on the opposite side of the board, staring down at it as Draco takes one trembling hand to move his black bishop to E5. Harry sighs.

“You can tell me, Draco. I…I want to help you. I know there’s something terrible happening in this hospital, and I know someone is hurting you. Please, Draco—”

Draco abruptly stands from his seat, startling Harry. Draco doesn’t pay him any notice as he stretches his long, rail-thin body before strolling up to the nurse’s station. He taps on the glass divider several times before Nurse Mathilde slides the panel open.

“What is it, Mr Malfoy?”

Draco mimes smoking a cigarette.

Nurse Mathilde purses her lips. “The Chief Healer has given you permission to smoke again, but not until 5pm and especially not without an orderly present. You’ll have to wait until then. No exceptions!” she snaps before slamming the panel shut.

Draco doesn’t come back to his board game, nor does he glance over at Harry.

Harry watches as he instead sits next to his friend Lottie who is staring at the only plant in the recreational room. He lifts her wrinkled hand and entwines it with his own before settling in to watch the plant with her.

---------

At approximately 5pm Harry exits the asylum, briefcase in one hand and car keys in the other. When he passes by one of the gnarled oak trees, he notices Draco leaning against it, blowing tendrils of smoke from his cigarette. Harry slows down to watch him.

Draco’s hip is cocked out, his hospital shirt bunched up slightly, exposing a sliver of pale flesh and a titillating v-line that disappears in his thin cotton hospital pyjamas. He’s properly beautiful—all long lines and sharp edges carved in delicate, alabaster marble. Harry has noticed just how clearer Draco’s eyes are now, how the grey is piercing, brimming with cleverness and an intelligence that reminds Harry of the boy he knew in Hogwarts.

Harry’s suddenly startled out of his reverence when he glances around and notices that Draco is currently unattended.

Harry decides to approach him.

“Draco. Are you out here by yourself? Where is your attending orderly?”

“He was recovering from the blowjob I gave him before I did this—” Draco says, his voice thick and raspy. Harry is so shocked to hear the familiar drawl that he stumbles forward, his eyes widening, realises too late that Draco has lunged towards him, left hand raised high to strike Harry on the side of his head with a large, jagged rock.

When Harry comes to, it’s with a sharp groan and with the sound of a string of complex Latin filling his ears. He grits his teeth as a burning sensation wraps around his wrist. He realises that he’s frozen on the ground by a particularly thorough Petrificus Totalus. Despite his throbbing head, he focuses enough to catch Draco at his side, hissing as a thin, red bracelet appears on his left wrist, the bandages now gone. Harry hasn’t seen his left arm exposed before, and he cries out as he takes in the horrific scarring over the Dark Mark, as if someone had tried to peel the Mark off with a scalpel and failed to dig deep enough. There were healed and freshly scabbed cuts from his wrist to his elbow on both arms.

Draco appears above Harry then. “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

There are streaks of dirt across Draco’s face, his hands, and under his nails.

“Please, Draco, whatever it is…don’t…don’t…”

Draco snorts. “What, don’t hurt you? Don’t kill you? Why would I harm the person I’m currently Bonded to?” Draco asks, lifting Harry’s wrist to his face. The red bracelet there matches Draco’s.

Panic seizes Harry immediately. Had he not been completely immobile, he sure he’d be shuddering. “What the hell is going on?” Harry asks, his voice shaking.

Draco drops his wrist and instead lifts a thick, taped together manila folder covered in dirt. “You’re helping me get the fuck out of here, Potter.” A smile breaks across Draco’s face then, making him look both incredibly beautiful and deranged. “It was as if you breathed life back into me, the day you walked through the doors of St Peter’s. I knew then that I had to hold on just a bit longer because surely it was a sign that my initial hard work wasn’t done in vain. You see this file here? I used to sneak out documents I’d gather from Madison, the Chief Healer, and the nurses proving the abuse. Some of the orderlies will let you do whatever you want if you can…provide the right services…and they would often leave me alone long enough for a smoke. I would hide the files here, Potter. But after Z-Z-iggy—” Draco’s excitable tone falters, a veil of sadness falling so quickly over his face Harry experiences a sense of whiplash. “They killed my friend, Potter. They treated Ziggy well before, even let him play Bowie when things weren’t so bad. They killed him during the experiments…”

“What experiments?” Harry asks, shocked.

Draco’s expression shifts once again to happiness. “I knew you wouldn’t be involved in something so gruesome.” He holds up his scarred arm. “On the Dark Mark and Purebloods who have come from Dark families. They’re trying to figure out how Dark Magic is entwined in a person’s DNA and…I don’t know…undo it.”

Harry’s eyes widens, mind beginning to race. “What?”

If the Healers here were literally using human flesh and blood to somehow recreate or understand the links between DNA and inherent Dark Magic, who knows what kind of torture and body modification they’re causing their subjects.

Draco eyes become manic. “You have to help me. You have to get me out of here in the next five minutes. My outdoor time is only half an hour and the orderly is currently passed out—”

“—Draco,” Harry whispers, interrupting Draco’s spiral. “How many others are there…how many other victims?”

“I don’t know, I swear. I just knew Ziggy personally but there would always be screams, so much screaming, so many voices…” Draco says, closing his eyes and swaying on the spot. He mutters softly, incoherently, to himself for a few moments before he opens his eyes, so grey, intense and bright. Harry is overwhelmed with shock, horror, and above all, disgust. Disgusted that the people he’s been working alongside for a month now, the people who have vowed first to do no harm, have been torturing their patients, vulnerable patients.

“Draco, I want to help you, okay? I will help you. You just have to undo the Petrificus Totalus. We’ll get in the car and just drive. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Draco holds up Harry’s wand, points it at Harry’s face. “If you betray me, Potter, you’ll regret it. We’ll get in that fancy car of yours and you’ll drive until I say stop. If you do anything to prevent me from getting these files to the right people…if you try to get help from the Aurors or let your friends know what’s going on, I’ll off myself. And this bond here, this bond will take you with me. I’m the only one that knows the counter, and once we get to my final destination, I’ll release you. So, don’t you dare fucking try me.”

Harry bites back a gasp.

Despite his very real fear, Harry’s desire to help Draco outweighs it. He nods.

“Okay, whatever you want. I’ll do it.”

Draco’s face, dark with suspicion, slowly starts to slide towards something lighter. He bares his teeth. “I hold onto the wand. You’re not allowed to touch me, period, or else I might get the wrong idea that you’re trying to get your wand back, and I don’t want to have to hurt you, or worse, hurt myself.”

“Yes, okay.”

With a wave of Harry’s wand, Draco undoes the spell. Harry sits up slowly, so as not to alarm Draco, who has quickly scrambled to his feet, the dirty file hugged to his chest, wand still trained on Harry. Harry follows after him, head throbbing and legs unsteady.

Draco casts a healing charm his way before strengthening a Disillusionment Charm around them.

Feeling much steadier, Harry exhales. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I hit you in the first place. I had no other means to incapacitate you.”

“You could have just told me what was going on.”

Draco shrugs. “I had to make sure you were trustworthy. And honestly, I’ve wanted to knock you out for years, so this very much fulfilled a boyhood dream of mine,” Draco says, his lips tugging upward. Harry pauses to look at him. The monster in his chest is awake, thrashing about as affection and desire feeds it.

Harry knows he’s fucked.

They make their way towards Harry’s car after checking on the unconscious orderly. Once settled in, Harry starts the car and drives, past the gates of the asylum and onto the stretch of empty country road. He glances at Draco, not at all shocked to see the tears that are streaming down his battered face.

“Where to?” Harry asks softly.

Draco continues to stare out ahead of him as he answers, “the only safehouse I know. A house on Spinner’s End, Cokeworth.”

Harry draws in a sharp breath.

[xenospacebabe]

Broken Wings pt. 3

Summary: After breaking one of his wings, Hawks breaks into an animal clinic for some help. Little does he know that the doctor there would occupy his mind this much

TW: Mentions of animal death.

Another busy week that seemed to endlessly drag on was coming to a close. There was a spike in Parvovirus cases in the last few days that had you hospitalizing as well as euthanizing beloved pets. You loved your job, but sometimes it really took a lot out of you. There were times where you lost more patients than you saved and it left you wondering if you were even good at what you do. However, there were the times where miracle patients made an unprecedented recovery. Those were the moments that kept you coming back.

The stress mounted on your shoulders, though. You had three dogs in isolation that were struggling to survive, so much so that you did your best to not promise anything to their owners. For now, they were resting in the silence of your closed clinic. You leaned back in your chair and let your head hang until you stared blankly at the ceiling. The muscles in your lower back burned and ached from standing and kneeling all day. Did you eat lunch today? Did you ever use the bathroom?

“Y’know I was really hoping you’d text me back this week, Doc.”

“WAH!” The sound of Keigo’s voice breaking through the fragile silence sent you backwards in your chair with a frightened shriek. But before you could hit the floor, you were looking up into Keigo’s eyes as he had rushed over to catch you. His good wing caught your chair while his hand cradled the back of your head.

“Woah easy there. I knew you’d fall for me but I didn’t think you’d do it literally.”

“Keigo! Oh shit, you scared me!” The winged hero looked so smug as he held you there. You were incredibly aware of just how close his face was to yours and you felt your stomach flip as a result. That stupid grin cracked on his lips, a wild eyebrow arching confidently.

“P-please help me up.” The shakiness in your voice was louder than you’d like it to be. But he brought you upright, nonetheless, in a smooth motion before sitting on your desk. “Thank you...”

“Hey it’s what heroes do, am I right? So-...” He reached forward with a gloved hand to fidget with the ends of your ponytail between his fingers. “What’s up? You seem more stressed than usual.”

Than usual? How would he know how stressed you are on a daily basis? You’d only seen each other twice, three times including today. What you didn’t know was that Keigo had a lot of time to fill while he allowed his wing to recover. Most of it was spent catching up on paperwork he had neglected back at headquarters. The rest of the time? He was watching you from afar. This strange instinct to keep an eye on you was out of character for him, he never paid this much attention to anyone who wasn’t a target for a mission.

But you...

Choosing to ignore that last statement, you let out a weary sigh. The tension in your shoulders relaxed and they slumped. Keigo observed you, choosing to stay quiet until you responded.

“It’s just...been a rough week. This business-...I don’t always get to save everyone and it was just a little more than I could handle this week.”

Something about that struck a chord in the depths of his heart. He knew about that reality all too well. Sometimes not everyone made it out alive, regardless of how hard he tried. And remarkably, you understood that. There wasn’t much he could say that would make you feel any better other than just a hum in his throat.

“Mmh...I get it. That’s a really heavy burden to carry.” The hand that played with your hair slipped out of its glove and rested on your shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. You felt your anxiety dissolve a little when he smiled at you.

“Anyway...that’s why I didn’t text you. I just didn’t have the moment to spare. I haven’t really left the clinic for more than a couple hours each day.” You let out an exhausted yawn behind your hand. Keigo noticed the way your nose scrunched up when you did so, and the cute squeak your throat made.

“Mmh my goodness, sorry. How’s the wing?” Back on track. He admired your tenacity and dedication to your work. Arms slipped out of his jacket followed by his uniform shirt. The redness returned to your features and you chewed your bottom lip nervously before regaining focus. It shouldn’t be this hard to look at a shirtless man. You’re an adult, get over yourself! But then again...you reminded yourself that there were no men like Keigo.

“Not too bad. The pain killers have helped but I didn’t wanna take them too long.” The splinted wing lifted and tried to flex. There was a tightness in the limb that was driving him crazy. And boy was it itchy. You noticed and began to remove the tape and gauze so you could feel the bone with your fingers.

To your surprise, Keigo didn’t flinch. In fact, you didn’t feel much of the break anymore. That was odd. One hand gently grasped the far side of his wing and slowly flexed it open. Once more, no pain response. You let go and told him to open and close it, which he did with a little strain but after a few tries it opened and closed in a smooth motion.

“How the-...this was a completely transverse fracture two weeks ago.” You muttered to yourself, truly confused but intrigued. Without thinking, you snagged Keigo by the wrist and yanked him into the radiology suite for immediate xrays.

“Woah hey! What?! What’s wrong?”

“On the table. Flex the wing. Hold still.” You were in like a trance, transfixed on getting answers. He did as you instructed without his usual teasing banter, the less he said the quicker you’d speak to him. You said nothing throughout the process, even after the images printed and were clipped to the lightbox.

“How?!” You gasped with your eyes trained on the image of Keigo’s healed wing. There wasn’t even the typical crease that came with the fusion of broken bones after they healed. You felt stupefied just gawking at his xrays.

“What?!” He practically shrieked, you were making him nervous by not explaining as quick as you usually did.

“It’s healed. I don’t-...did you know you could heal this quickly?” Keigo had the audacity to look embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly with a dumb smile on his handsome face.

“Ah yeah, I guess I did. But I dunno, I just figured I needed an excuse to keep seeing you.” Once again you found yourself in close proximity to the winged hero, too close, in fact. Being this close made it suddenly dawn on you that now he didn’t need to come back anymore. He was healed and had no reason to sneak into your cute little clinic after hours.

Keigo could see the realization on your face, your expressions were incredibly loud in spite of you not having said a single word. You’d only seen each other twice before today but even he could tell there was something there.

“Hey, why don’t you take a short break and come on a test flight with me, there’s something I wanna show you.”

“What now? Keigo I-..” His back was already retreating back to your office to put his shirt and coat back on. When he returned, he held your hoodie out that was on the back of your office door. You looked at the clock, your overnight tech would be here soon to look after the hospitalized patients. Maybe you could afford to slip out for just a little while.

“Come on. You won’t let me pay you with money, so let me thank you my way.”

There really was no arguing with Keigo, he was too headstrong. So you reached for your hoodie, only for him to yank it back. Instead, he held it open for you to slide your arms into. You were trying so hard not to swoon.

“Alright...let’s go.”

A/N: I’m really glad you guys are liking this drabble. I’m thinking of making it into a fanfiction of sorts, maybe. With some conflict and maybe a lil romance. Let me know what you think! I love feedback!

[deliontower]

life on mars | one | b.b

summary: after an accident y/n wakes up in 1940s Brooklyn with no idea what happened they had no option but to accept help from two stranger

word count: 1.3k

warnings: inaccurate knowledge of Brooklyn, mention of violence/fights, questionable medical stuff, swearing, hints to drowning and that's it i think

A/N: this is something i've been working on for a while and i feel like it's finally ready to be put out there. opening from a grey's anatomy episode!

shout out to @rosewrites for letting me borrow Sparkles from her story Cardiac Arrest which is amazing and you should all check out!

!!has been edit but likely missed a few things!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN | SERIES MASTERLIST

The back of the ambulance was tightly packed . This was your least favourite part of being a trauma surgeon, being the one they called when they needed someone fast. A handful of doctors were already at the scene tending to people.

You ran through all the information Joy, the paramedic had mention before you sent off. A boat had capsized near the pier, you weren’t sure what injures you would need to treat but you were ready.

As much as you wanted to keep your mind on your job, your mind kept finding its way to Stephen. After his accident he became more of an ass than he already was. You did everything you could to help him, gave him all the time you had to give. You were there every time he woke up from an operation along with Sparkles his not-girlfriend.

Operation after operation. The only thing that changed was his mood. After his last chance failed, he disappeared looking for something that would help, you only reason you knew he was still alive was thanks to Sparkles, she was the only person he’d talk too.

"Dr Gold we're here" Joy called from the front seat.

You snap out your head, grabbing your kit jumping out the back of the ambulance. when you were out you looked out at the scene before you, people lay on the floor, doctors attending to at least three patients each.

After a deep breath you got straight to work, assessing how serious their injuries where and if they could wait. Thankfully there wasn’t many serious injuries, you started to walk towards the information centre when you spotted something, no someone in the distance.

You started to run towards them, no wonder they hadn’t been seen they were hid behind a shipping container. “Sir can you hear me?” you reached down and tried to find a pulse, you sighed with relief finding one. “Okay sir, can you tell me what hurts?”.

Turning away you reached for your kit, you looked around wishing you hadn’t come alone if something happened now you didn’t have many options.

“Sir. I need to check your injures. Can you to tell me where it hurts” you tried again, checking his pupils, at least you could rule out a brain injury for now.

“my arm”

You looked down to his left arm, “okay, everything will be alright sir” you smile down to him, he just nods weakly back.

From where you were you couldn't get a good look at the arm. With one last look around you walk around and knelt by his other side. The cold sea air hit your back making the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

You breathed. Reached down to pull away his coat. Saw a deep red cut. You reached across to get some gauze from your kit. And then you were falling backwards. Everything moved in slow motion, you didn’t feel anything until you hit the cold water.

Shock. You were going to go into shock . You started to kick against the current as it tossed you around, you saw the water ripping above you. Just a little more and you’ll be fine, then you hit a pillar. You gasped pain distracting you, the water rushed into your lungs.

You felt a burning in your chest. The dizziness from your head was worse, you were sure there was blood mixed with the water.

You movements got slower, you breathed again, forgetting it was all water.

Would anyone find you? would they get to you in time?

Your movement was no existence now. The burning stopped, not a good side but you were too hazy to care. You closed your eyes.

A cloudless blue sky met your eyes. Birds flew above calling out to one another. Blinking you tried to remember where you were and why you were looking up at the sky in damp clothes.

You remember the water, it filling your lungs until you couldn’t take it anymore. You must have washed up on the shore, slowly you stood up looking around for help. Everything was the same. But everything was different. You were forgetting something, you just didn’t know what.

“How did I end up here?” you wonder turning in a full circle. Looking down at yourself, the blue dress and white apron sent an odd feeling through your chest. Lay on the floor next to you was a long brown coat.

You tried to think back before you fell in the water but nothing came up, whatever you were doing before was out of reach now.

You walked from the shore, trying to find your way to the streets. After 5 minutes of wondering around until the site of a building stopped you. You couldn’t point out why but you knew it.

You needed to touch it, something about it was different, you thought it you didn't feel it everything would disappear like a dream. Your hand was shaking as you reached out, the brick was cold and hard under your touch “what am I doing?” you murmured questioning yourself.

All around you people were getting on about their lives, talking, and laughing, among it all only one thing stood out. Someone was yelling. Either no one else heard what was going on or they just didn’t care.

When you looked down the closers alley you saw two men fighting, no, a man fighting a young boy.

“Hey!” you yell before you could think. The two, stop fighting looking your way.

“Nothing to worry about, honey. Move along” he man winked over his shoulder.

You huffed a breath of anger and walk closer, you pulled the man back by his shoulder. “I think it is”. The man was too shocked to move at first, staring at you opened mouthed like a fish. “Word to the wise don’t call anyone, love again”. You pulled him further away from the kid.

His eyes flashed with anger , he lifted his hand to hit you. You dodged it, then threw your own punch to his chin, then a kick to his stomach. He fell to the ground, your breath came heavy as you looked down at him.

A noise to your left took your attention away. That when you remember the young boy. “Are you okay?”, you reach out and to help him up.

“ Thank you miss, but I had it under control” he got up without your help, leaving your hand hanging in the air.

Closer up you could see he wasn’t a boy but a smaller grown man.

“He says that all the time” a voice laughed from behind.

You jumped turning around. There was another man, a rather handsome one.

“I’m guessing he likes to make a habit of it then” you breath smiling. “I’m afraid I can’t just let a bully get his own way” you nodded down to the passed-out man by your feet, “I might have hit him a bit too hard”.

The handsome man shrugged. “Teach him a lesson, no one wants to get taken down by a woman”.

You laughed.

Someone clears their throat, “Bucky”.

You turn away raising an eyebrow. “what?”

He nodded to the handsome man behind you, “His name. And I’m Steve”.

You smile nodding, “Nice to met you”.

“So Goldie, how come you’re soaking?” Bucky spoke.

You looked at him confused. “That’s not my name-“.

“Sorry nurse Gold how come you’re soaking wet” he waved his hand.

“Nurse?” you laughed.

Bucky pointed to your chest, “Your name tag says nurse Gold”.

“Is everything alright?” Steve had moved so that he could stand in front of you, Bucky had come closer too.

You reached up again and touched your head, it was still wet. “I feel into the water and I must have hit my head”.

“Can we help?” Steve asked worried, he put his hand on your shoulder, like you were going to fall any minute.

You laughed, “You don’t have any dry clothes lying around do you?”.

taglist open!

[rachaelswrites]

Spencer

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Based on Criminal Minds Season 12 Episode 13 “Spencer”

Word Count: 1,899

Warnings: drugging, prison, mentions of injuries

A/N: Part of the Episode series (requested)

Your thoughts weren’t coherent and you felt funny. You were in a strange place you didn’t recognize. It was cold and grungy. You sat up from the wooden bench you were laying on, your head felt heavy and foggy, so your surroundings weren’t coming into focus but your hearing was clear. You heard someone talking with an accent then a voice you remember. You tried to stand up, but the pain in your head was too much. 

You reached up and felt a bandage on your forehead and you could feel a liquid seeping through. You slowly moved your hand down and saw red. You started panicking, getting the attention of the people around you. You heard someone yell something in another language before talking to you. 

“Hello?” the man asked. 

“Hi,” you said back. You weren’t in the right mindset to understand what was happening. 

“Is this your daughter? She was with you in the car?” The first man said to the second. The second man turned and looked at you. 

“I don’t remember. I think so.”

The first man looked at you, “Is this your father?” he saw you squint and try to figure it out. When you didn’t answer, he asked another question, “What’s your name?”

“Mmm, I think Y/n,” you said, “My head hurts,” you laid back on the bench and your eyes felt heavy. You were about to close them when a name caught your attention. 

“You’re not just American? You’re Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI,” the man was holding up a plastic bag. 

You shot up, ignoring the dizziness and pain that followed, “I know him. He’s my dad.”

~~~~~

You were now sitting next to your dad. There was a medic who was wrapping your dad’s hand and then moved on to changing the bandage on your head. 

“I’m going to run some tests to see what’s in your systems okay?” the officer from earlier said. It was obvious Spencer was high but he wasn’t sure if you were either. You took a pretty nasty blow to the head, which could be causing all the mind fog you were having. 

Your dad nodded, “Thank you.”

“So you still don’t remember her last name or why you were meeting her? Either of you?”

You shook your head. 

“I’m trying but I can’t,” your dad said.

“You were near the border. Did you plan on crossing it?”

Spencer though for a minute before responding, “No I uh, think I was chasing someone.”

“Who?”

Your dad talked about some car in front of him while he was driving. You were no help because apparently you had been knocked out cold in the backseat when they arrested you. 

“I think I’m being framed.”

The officer scoffed, “You have enemies that would do this?”

Spencer nodded his head. 

You were put in another room with a new medic. He had to collect different types of DNA from you before getting your blood drawn. He clipped a piece of your hair, then your nails and then swabbed your cheek. There was an overhead light that was flickering and buzzing, which was making you restless, “Can you turn that light off? It’s annoying.”

The medic ignored you, “Arremangarse,” he motioned for you to roll the sleeves of your shirt up. He tied a piece of tubing around your bicep, looking for a vein and inserting the needle into your arm. 

He pulled the needle out, “Hecho,” he grabbed some gauze from his cart and helped you hold it onto the mark he just left. He helped you walk back into the holding cell with your dad. 

You sat next to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Instead of wrapping his arm around you like normal, he stared straight ahead. He started mumbling to himself. Something about not being weak. 

“Hey Reid, hi Y/n,” a voice startled you. Your dad looked up and stood. 

“Luke.”

You stayed on the bench. The drugs in your system still hadn’t worn off. You hadn’t really said much since the arrest. 

Emily and Rossi were close behind Luke. 

“We’re gonna get you both out of here okay?” Rossi said. 

Emily looked at Reid then at you. She couldn’t believe that Spencer had to go through this but you? You were only twelve and you had been drugged and arrested in Mexico, “We just have to get things cleared up with the locals then we can bring you home.” 

You tuned out their conversation quickly after that. You stood up and paced the cell back and forth. You were feeling more panicky than before. Maybe the drugs were wearing off now. 

“Y/n?” Emily could sense your feelings and she needed you to remain calm. If you got agitated or defensive it could be a sign of guilt and they could keep you here longer. 

“Hmm?” you turned your attention towards her. 

Before she could speak to you, Luke came back into the room. You hadn’t even noticed he was gone. He showed your dad a picture on his phone, “Is that her?”

Reid nodded, “Yeah, that’s her.”

“I’ll have Garcia send us an address.” 

Emily looked at Rossi, “We’ll need to get there with officers.”

“Do you two want some company while you’re here?”

You ignored the question while Spencer shook his head, “No we’re okay here.”

The others left and your dad sat on the bench, motioning for you to follow. You sat down on his lap and put your arms around his neck, “Are we okay? I don’t know what’s happening.”

Spencer smoothed down your hair. Both of you were a mess, “I don’t really know,” it was normally a father’s job to make sure his kid was safe but he couldn’t really guarantee anything right now, “I hope we’ll be okay.”

~~~~~

“We know you didn’t do this,” Emily said. She was talking about the doctor your dad was supposed to meet with. She was murdered in the hotel and your dad was now a suspect in the case. 

“How did it happen?” Your dad turned to his team members, looking for answers. 

“She was stabbed multiple times. Looked personal,” Luke said. 

There was no way you were guilty. For a kid your age and strength, it was almost impossible and everyone in that room knew that. Whether you were high or not, you would be released soon. 

The officer walked into the holding cell, “I have the blood work results,” he unfolded the papers and read them aloud, “There’s cocaine and heroin in both your systems.” 

“What else?” Emily asked. 

“He was in possession of cocaine and heroin. That’s all I need,” he responded. 

Emily scoffed, “No, we need a full tox screen panel. We’re looking for Scopolamine.”

“That will take longer.”

“I don’t care, we need it.”

The officer nodded. Luke looked to the two of you. Your eyes were bloodshot and Reid’s were rimmed red. Luke explained the type and effects the drugs had on both of you, “Are either of you coming down?”

“I think so,” your dad said nodding. 

The team looked at you but you looked away burying your face into your dad. 

“Do you think you could do a cognitive?” Emily asked him, “Y/n can stay with us here. She doesn’t need to do one if she’s not ready.”

Reid looked down at you and back at Emily, “I’ll try.”

The drugs were still in your body and it didn’t look like you’d be able to sober up soon. Luke stayed with you while Emily took Spencer to one of the other rooms. She told Luke to try and get you talking. Anything could help. 

You sat on the floor with your head in between your knees. Everyone seemed on edge and it felt like your fault. You heard them talking about your dad remembering something so you tried to do that also. Luke was sitting on the bench and watched you. He could tell the gears in your brain were turning. 

“Just remember, god damnit Y/n! Just remember!” you yelled to yourself. You started hitting your head with your palm, hoping to jumpstart your brain. 

Luke noticed you were hitting your head, right where your injury was. He sat next to you on the floor and grabbed your hands, stopping their movements, “Hey calm down, it’s okay Y/n.”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes, “No I need to remember! I have to save him!” you shook your head and tried to stand but Luke kept you on the floor. 

“Spencer is with Emily and he’s doing all that for you. You just have to sit here and be here for him. Can you do that?”

You didn’t answer him back. You moved your hands out of his grip and laid on the concrete, covering your face with your arms.

“Luke,” Rossi called for him. Luke patted your leg and stood up, heading over to Rossi. 

~~~~~

“They’re charging him? What’s gonna happen to her?” Luke motioned towards you, still laying on the floor. 

“She’s free to go but, that’s all I know,” Rossi said, “We take her back to DC and figure it out from there.”

Reid came back into the cell and sat down on the bench next to you, “Y/n, come here,” he helped you stand up. He was sobering up and his mind was now processing the state you were in, “I might have to stay here for a while. They think I did something bad but you’re gonna go home and stay with JJ okay?”

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, “Why can’t I stay? If it’s because of the drugs they’re in me too.”

Spencer rubbed his hands up and down your arms, “It’s for something else. But I didn’t actually do it. I need you to listen to everything the team says,” he couldn’t believe this might be the last time he got to see you and it had to be like this. You were probably still too high to remember this. 

“Will you come back?”

He nodded, “I hope so Y/n,” he pulled you into a hug, letting you rest your head on his chest. 

~~~~~

Luke and Rossi had kept you out of all the “adult” talk. They didn’t want you to get confused or concerned. You were finally coming down and both men could tell your anxiety was starting to kick in. It didn’t help that a group of officers started walking towards your dad’s cell. 

“We’re transferring him now,” the officer said. 

“We’ve had a break in the case,” Emily said, “The victim was also an American which calls for extradition.”

“Sorry, I’ve got orders,” the officers handcuffed your dad and led him out of the cell. 

“Dad!” you tried to run after him, but Emily grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back. 

Emily still held onto you while she was on the phone, “We now have jurisdiction... The victim had dual citizenship… Thank you,” she put the phone in her pocket and turned to Luke, “Go get him.”

On the plane, you watched as Emily unlocked the handcuffs from your dad’s wrist, “You’re not a flight risk up here but once we land, these go back on.”

“Thank you. Thank you for getting us out of there.”

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998 @multifamdomfan12

[btsficsforthehumble]

Rapture

Pairing: reader x Yoongi

Genre: Mafia au; angst, fluff

Warnings: Injury, medical terms, blood, sexual insinuations

WC: 2.2k

A/N: This is for the ficcafe dialogue prompt event! The three italicized lines are the ones chosen from this event --- thanks to the admins for creating such a great list! I really love this scenario and am thinking about making it into a larger story if there’s interest… so let me know if you want to see more!

----

“Stop screaming, it’s just me.”

You sag with relief when you recognize Yoongi’s voice. You had woken up to the sound of a large crash, from what you assume now was caused by Yoongi navigating your dark apartment. Your relief only disappears for a second, however. If he was coming to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, something was wrong.

You scoot your butt to the edge of your bed to reach your side table tamp, pulling the string to allow soft light to illuminate the room. This allows you to see Yoongi fully, not just the dark figure he had been seconds ago.

The sight that awaits your eyes makes you take a sharp inhale. Yoongi was leaning against your dresser, hunched over slightly, still in his tactical gear from what you assume was his job tonight. What had caused your surprise though wasn’t that, but the large gash that travelled from his hip bone to right above the inside of his knee. It must have been not too deep, seeing as he was able to make his way all the way here, but was still actively bleeding --- you could see the dark metallic liquid reflecting the light, standing out against the black of his cargo pants.

You immediately jump up to grab the rather large first aid kit you keep in your bathroom. You weren’t a stranger to patching up the boys after a particularly dangerous job. Usually though, they weren’t stumbling around your apartment in the middle of the night, but calling you over to one of their apartments.

The truth was, you were no doctor --- or even nurse for that matter. You were a waitress. After you made friends with the seven boys who would frequent the small restaurant in which you worked, you learned that they were members of the local Bangtan gang. You had seen how they roughly patched each other up after they got hurt, fearing going to the hospital to where they could be linked to the various illegal activities that they participated in. So, you took it upon yourself to learn rudimentary first aid skills to help them when they were injured --- such as right now.

You pull out a bottle of alcohol, gauze, needle and surgical thread from your kit after washing your hands thoroughly. Yoongi was still putting his weight on your furniture, easing the pressure off of his injured leg. He had a grimace on his face, obviously in pain from the large gash.

You hurry over, lifting his opposite arm up and around your neck to allow you to support some of his weight. Slowly hobbling to the edge of your bed, you assist him in sitting on the mattress where he could rest while you could fix him up.

Once you have him positioned comfortably, well --- as comfortably as he could get, you sink to your knees in front of him to be able to be close enough to the wound to work on it. First, you realize you would have to cut back some of the fabric of his pants to prevent contamination and allow you to get a clear view of the full cut. Grabbing the medical scissors, you begin to but at his pants, but careful to not sacrifice his modesty too much. Honestly, you don’t think you’d be able to focus very well with him exposed anyway.

After you finish, you look up to see his face, wanting to make sure he was still comfortable and prepared to handle the pain the alcohol would surely bring. Seeing his frown turn into a knowing smile once your eyes meet, you hurry to sterilize the cut. You two didn’t need words to understand each other, same as always.

You lift the open bottle of isopropyl alcohol to hover above his thigh, and begin to carefully pour just enough to cover the wound, moving from the top to the bottom of the gash. At its contact, Yoongi lets out a hiss and grips your bedsheets in both hands. He’s felt the sting a million times, but it never fails to make him tense up in pain.

“I know. Sorry,” you give at his tense reaction.

Putting away the alcohol, you thread your needle. Checking in with him again, he gives you a tense nod. You begin stitching him up, knotting the first stitch at his hip and traveling down his thigh. At the first stitch, you feel him jump slightly from the prick.

“Stay still. The more you move, the more this is going to hurt,” you warn.

He lets out a low grunt of acknowledgement at your words. He knew you were right.

You put your full focus back into your task, wanting to make sure the stitches weren’t excessively crude. In the process, you don’t notice you getting your body shifting to be more in between his spread legs than in front of them. He notices though.

He keeps his eyes trained on you as you work. Partially to keep himself distracted from the needle going in and out of his skin, but also partially because you looked so beautiful bathed in the soft light your lamp was casting on you. He had woken you up from your sleep, so you had a case of slight bedhead and puffy eyes --- a completely unfiltered version of yourself. After looking at your furrowed brows and slight pout, obviously lost in your task, he lets his gaze drop to your body.

You were wearing a large, oversized white tee-shirt and black sleeping shorts that were smaller than anything he’d seen you in before. Not wanting to make himself think dirtily about you while you were currently in between his thighs --- he’d surely get hard and then he’d feel like a complete asshole --- he slides his gaze back up to your torso.

Wait a second… your shirt looks an awful lot like the one that he had been searching for a few weeks ago. The shirt was one of his favorites, and he was irritated when he couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Is that… is that my shirt?”

You snap your head up at his words, take a look down to remind yourself of what you were wearing, and snap your head back up again, but this time with an owlish look. Of course the one night Yoongi stumbles in your door you are wearing the t-shirt you had stolen from his room while you were over playing card games with Jungkook and Taehyung. You all were drinking, and you accidentally spilled the contents of your glass right down the front of your top. You had gotten up to steal one of the boys shirts from their rooms, but you knew Yoongi had this shirt in his drawer. It always looked so comfortable; plus, you thought it would probably have his masculine citrusy scent. You were right, on both accounts.

Now, you were embarrassed having been caught red-handed. “May... maybe?” The heat in your cheeks didn’t help your situation.

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, and you could see the faint trace of a smile on his lips.

“You know, I looked for a whole week for that shirt. And now, come to find out, it was all the way here in your thieving hands this whole time,” he gruffly says, in his special Yoongi way. But you could tell from his tone he wasn’t actually mad.

“Thought it needed a change of environment, that’s all,” you answer cheekily. You resume his stitches where you had left off.

He just shakes his head, watching you for another moment. “It looks better on you anyways.”

You blush at his words, but don’t look up from your task. At this point, you were nearly done --- your stitching had grown faster with the practice the boys kept giving you.

You tie off the last stitch, and stand up wiping the dust of the floor off your knees. You collect the used supplies, depositing them in the bathroom to deal with tomorrow. When you come back in, you find Yoongi examining your work. He said nothing, apparently satisfied.

“Come on, let me clean you up,” you suggest as you walk over to help him stand from your bed. He still has blood, now dried, in the area around his wound. He leans on you again, standing with a grunt. Hobbling once more, you go to the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet. You make quick work of getting some sterile cotton pads wet to allow you to swipe away the blood.

You are gentle as you wipe, not wanting to upset the already angry skin any more. He watches your face as you do so, endeared at your care and concern.

Once you finish, it occurs to him that his pants still have a giant gaping hole in them --- oh, and part of his boxers too. You are quick to turn around, heading straight for the dresser Yoongi had been leaning on earlier. You have a small stash of men’s boxers for when you sleep sometimes. Luckily, Yoongi, being slim, would fit into the pairs you had on hand. Grabbing the one on top, you return to the bathroom.

He raises his brows at you, confused at your actions, but understands once you toss the boxers at him.

“Here. I don’t have pants that’ll fit, but those should work at least,” you offer.

“Thanks.”

With a nod, you turn around shutting the door behind you. Oh, he probably wants a clean shirt too --- so you do the first thing you think of, taking his shirt right off your back. You crack open the door, only enough to fit your hand with the shirt through, in offering. A beat later, you feel the tee being pulled from your loose grasp.

Yoongi feels a spark of excitement knowing you were half naked on the other side of the door, but quickly tries to shove it away. Not the time, he reminds himself.

Meanwhile, you pull out another old shirt from your drawer for yourself to wear, and go get a glass of water from the kitchen for Yoongi. You had some painkillers for him, that would hopefully allow him to sleep.

While you are placing the pills next to the glass on your bedside, you hear the door creak open. You rush over to help him walk, wrapping your arm around his waist. You head towards your bed, already set on having him sleep there while you take the couch. He looks down at you confused when he sees the direction you’re taking him, however.

Noticing, you tell him, “I was thinking you take my bed tonight. It’s better than the couch for your leg.”

Meanwhile, he had been planning on ending up on your old couch this entire time. “It’s fine, I already barged in your house for you to sew me up, I can take the couch,” he says. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

But you weren’t taking no for an answer tonight. “Min Yoongi, sit your ass down. You have a huge gash in your thigh, you’re taking the bed.”

He could tell from your tone there was no arguing. He still felt guilty. And, he realized, what he really wanted was for you to just stay with him.

With fake nonchalance, he suggests just that. “Let’s compromise. You’re bed’s big enough for two, we can both use it.”

You eye him for a few seconds, wanting to gauge what that meant. If you let your imagination run wild, that could be a loaded suggestion. You debate in your head for a second, talking yourself down. It was late, and he had never been anything but your friend. His intentions probably were completely pure; and you felt embarrassed for even thinking anything more could be going on.

You sigh, not giving him an answer right away. “Take these,” you point to the medicine, placing your hands on your hips, waiting for him to follow your order.

He dutifully does so, and looks at you expectantly. You hadn’t told him your decision.

“Scoot over.”

He quirks his lip at your command, amused at your delivery of your answer. But, he does scoot over, allowing you to slide your body underneath the sheets. You quickly reach for your lamp, and encase your room in darkness once again.

Tense from having Yoongi in your bed with you, you can’t help but toss and turn for a bit. Meanwhile, he was deathly still. This continues for several minutes, with you not being able to settle.

You flip over again, but this time Yoongi grunts, rolling on his good side, sticking an ankle between your legs and throwing an arm over your hip. You tense immediately at the unexpected, but not unwelcome, contact.

Yoongi’s breath fans across your ear. “Stop moving. You’re driving me nuts.” His voice was low and gravely from sleepiness, and was very sexy. You were glad at that moment he couldn’t see your face, because your eyes had to be the size of saucers.

And, to your surprise, not soon after you were able to fall into a deep slumber that exceeded your normal, lonely nights.

[deluxewhump]

true north, part one: Charlie (Kidnapping)

CW: Captivity, kidnapping, guns, whipping, restraints, thirst and hunger, sleep deprivation, threat of execution, political mayhem, make-believe politics, insurgents, and warfare, first person POV for now, others will be third

***

They have taken everything electronic, along with our passports and official documents, but left me my Moleskine and my pens. I don’t suppose they think of me, armed with a ballpoint, as much of a threat. 

I don’t feel like one. They have Kalashnikovs and AR-15's, they pick their teeth with curved blades they carry in their heavy boots or at their waist, meant to flay the skin from animals. 

Yesterday we walked seven hours total. I think the direction was north, but I am not sure. 

Ever since we first saw the trucks, my head had been buzzing, as if stuffed with gauze and hornets. I am not ashamed to admit that for the first three hours I could not think through my fear. I thought they would walk us ten more paces and shoot us where we stood. All day I thought that, as the terrain got steeper and rockier, as the sun arced the sky and threw our long shadows into the trees. Every ten paces they did not, I wondered if they had something more terrible than a firing squad planned for us. 

There are groups with worse reputations than these southern insurgents, if one can believe it. They don’t report on that back home, but it is a truth known here among old men and school children alike. Even the stray dogs seem to know it. The birds are quiet in the trees when we pass beneath them. 

Our hands were bound in front of us with zip ties, and they had blindfolds loose around our necks, ready to pull up when we pass landmarks they do not want us to remember, to orient ourselves by. This gave me hope. They would not care what we saw if we were going to be dead in a matter of hours. If we slowed, the nudge of a Kalashnikov reminded us where to put our feet. 

The last of my water was gone, and I would not ask Samir for any of his, if he had any left. They had not offered us anything to drink, and I feared they would not. Samir kept pace better than I did. He’s younger, and runs six miles every morning with the recruits. I was glad for our walking shoes, and I kept my eyes on the back of Samir’s head as much as our surroundings and kidnappers, just trying to keep pace, to keep an even distance.

Funnily enough, the thought of being taken out at any moment and shot in the head paled behind my thoughts of something cool to drink. 

I did not think they would let us sleep much that night. 

***

I was right. The surly one who prodded me all day with his gun sat in front of me on the rough floor of what I assume was or still was a farmer’s cottage. He looked at me for a long time with eyes like hot embers, seeming to sink in his skull with his hatred of me. His hands were empty, gun laid up behind him in a corner like a sentry. It was strange to see them separated. I had begun to think of it as an extension of him, a surplus limb. 

I stared back. I kept my face calm, free of anger or blame, though I did blame them, and I was angry. I did not want to incite this man. The younger one seemed to be in charge, indeed he had more insignia on his forest-green jacket than the others and carried himself the most like an experienced soldier of any of them. He had dark eyes and a clean undercut, with a hooked nose and straight white teeth. Often when I saw his face, he was smiling. In my mind I had started calling him Happy.

Despite Happy’s seeming authority, the gunman felt at ease targeting me, and no one seemed inclined to stop him. 

“Doctor,” he said finally, in an accent I did not recognize. 

I shook my head. He narrowed his deep set eyes, jutted his head back at Samir, who was lying facing the wall with no blanket. “Doctor?” He repeated.

Samir had medical training, but was not a doctor. I did not know if this man cared to discuss the difference with me, and I was sure our language barrier would make it impossible anyway. “No,” I breathed, and again shook my head. “No doctor.”

The man grabbed Samir by the back of the shirt, hauled him to sitting and hit him with a closed fist before he knew what was happening. I cried out in dismay and outrage. Samir was dropped back to the floor, holding his face and whimpering. I wanted to go to him, but I knew better. 

Happy looked up from where he was bent over a cellphone. He said something in their southern tongue that sounded like a reprimand, and neither Samir nor I were struck again that night. 

The gunman watched me, though, and every time my exhaustion started to pull me into sleep he would prod me with the toe of his boot. The next morning I had bruises on my ribs.

I thought they would march us all day again if they did not shoot us outright, but they roused Samir with a splash of cold water (I swallowed around my parched tongue, throat clicking dryly) and dragged him outside, where a small group of locals were waiting with solemn faces. My disgruntled gunman took me by the elbow and hauled me out behind them. 

This is it, I thought. Please, let it be quick. A bullet to the head. I did not want to see a gallows or a stake with kindling stacked beneath it. Outside was only a yard, beyond that the golden fields and the treeline I had not seen last night in the dark. I looked around me at the morning sky, the mist lifting slowly from the wet grass, and it filled me with longing.

I did not want to die. More than anything, I did not want to die. 

They tied Samir to a post beside the half bombed-out stables and ripped the shirt from his back. The gunman held me fast as another of our kidnappers approached with a thick, coiled whip in hand. Samir looked over his shoulder at it, turned his cheek back to the rough wooden post and shuddered, from cold or dread I couldn't say.

The only sound in the yard was the singing of the whip and Samir's anguished cries. They started as sharp yelps, and grew to be horrible shrieks filled with fear and disbelief—  disbelief at the pain of the whip licking his naked back, fear that it could somehow get worse. I gritted my teeth. My legs shook. The townspeople watched dully, faces coated with a thin layer of grime. 

Samir screamed as the whip tore open his back, mean gashes like claw marks on his poor, soft skin. When I tried to turn away my gunmen took my jaw in his hand and wrenched it up to watch. 

Samir bucked and sobbed against the pole, tied fast. Blood oozed from the deeper of the marks, over the lean muscles of his back. Happy watched cooly, hands clasped behind his back and feet planted wide, neither enjoying nor disapproving of the display. 

Finally, he raised a hand and the whip paused midair, dropped beside the insurgent’s thigh, held loosely now like a plaything.

I was pulled away just as Happy approached Samir's shaking body. I craned my neck to see what he would do, but he was only lifting Samir's chin with a gentle finger, saying something to him. From across the yard I could not tell what he said or even what tongue it was in. He brushed a lock of Samir's dark hair back from his forehead as the gunman tossed me back into the clapboard shelter so I fell onto my hands, bit my tongue and tasted blood.

part two

[aquietwritingcorner]

Sicktember Day 24: Sneezing Word Count: 936 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: Rebecca Catalina Warning: Summary: Rebecca goes looking for Riza in the aftermath of the Promised Day, even through all of the debris around. Notes:  AO3 || ff.net

___________________________________________

Sneezing

Rebecca’s nose itched, and she sneezed.

She had little time to worry about it, though. There was too much to do. She was on a mission, and not an easy one at that. She needed to get downtown, to where the emergency tents and field hospital had been set up, or maybe even to the hospital itself. That was the first part of her mission: Find out where the objective is located.

It was easier said than done. There was chaos and people everywhere. The news had broken that Fuhrer Bradley was dead. People had seen the massive energy blast that had taken out half of Central Command. Everyone had been through… whatever that was. She still wasn’t sure. She’d have to go ask someone about that.  There were buildings damaged and blown apart, dead individuals, stories of monsters. There was too much happening, and Rebecca was about to put herself right in the thick of it.

She sneezed again.

“Ugh,” she reached into her pocket, only to find that she didn’t have her handkerchief with her anymore. She had almost forgotten that she had used it earlier, giving it to Brosh to mop up his flood of tears. Well. It wasn’t much more than a simple sneeze, so she would be fine. She just liked the feeling of wiping her nose after sneezing. She’d manage.

Even though her nose kept itching.

She made her way through the barricades leading downtown and around the blockades that had been put up. Her name got her in some places. Riza and Mustang’s got her in more. Her own gumption and guile got her in most of them. By the time she managed to make it downtown, her nose was in an almost constant state of itch. She ignored that, however, as she got her first glimpse of downtown and HQ. It was in worse shape than she had thought.

There were big chunks of buildings laying around, crews already trying to shore them up or block off the area. She sneezed and coughed as a building corner a crew was trying to prop up collapsed, sending out a wave of dust. She kept going, coughing, sneezing, and her eyes watering for at least a block afterward. She passed areas where people were sweeping up debris, the dust tickling her nose and causing her to sneeze again. The closer she got to the epicenter of everything the more her eyes watered and her nose itched.

She finally found the area she was looking for, the medical tents, and set about looking for her particular goal. She dodged in and out of people moving around carrying supplies, tending to wounded. She grimaced as she looked at some of them. Some were soldiers who had just been on the ground outside of the citadel. Most of them had minor injuries, it seemed. Others were in horrible shape, with wounds that almost looked as if they had been bitten or been partially eaten. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what happened there. (She would definitely find out what had happened there).

She sneezed more when she ran into soldiers who must have been near the area that was destroyed, covered in dust, and shedding it like a second skin.

Her eyes watered.

Her nose itched.

“Ah…ah…AHCOO!”

“Becca?”

Rebecca recognized that voice, and she turned and ducked into the area it came from.

“Riza!”

“Rebecca!”

Rebecca ignored the nurse that told her to be quiet, instead looking over her friend. It must have been bad, as Riza was just in her pants and sports bra, which, if she wasn’t on her back, would leave her back exposed. Riza was always so careful about that. Whatever happened must have been bad.

More alarming was how pale and sweating Riza was, with dark circles under her eyes. The doctor was pressing down onto her neck, several bloody pieces of gauze about, and the nurse who had admonished her was setting up what looked to be a blood transfusion with a sense of urgency. Riza made no effort to move. She just kept her eyes locked on Rebecca.

“What happened?” She asked, and her voice was weak, thready.

Rebecca bit her lip, wanting to ask her what had happened, but she knew that Riza wouldn’t be satisfied until she had her answer. So, instead, she gave Riza a rundown of the day and its results. Riza took it in and then traded her information in turn, leaving Rebecca was stunned. She didn’t even notice herself sneezing as Riza talked. When Riza finally finished, she sat back on a stool someone had stuck under her

“…I don’t even have words for that.” She said. “I—I—ah…ah…AHCHOO!” She grabbed some nearby tissues and blew her nose. “Ugh.”

“You’ve been doing that the whole time,” Riza said. “Are you okay?”

“Ugh, fine. I think I’m allergic to something in all this debris.” She saw Riza frown and waved it off. “But it’s worth it to see you. Not like I could have gotten away from it anyway.”

“True,” Riza said, and Rebecca could see the tiredness creeping up in her eyes.

Rebecca stood up. “Rest, Riza. I’ll go check on things, okay? I’ll get answers, even if I have to sneeze my way through it—including checking on that Colonel of yours!”

Riza laughed breathily. “I’ll count on it.”

Rebecca grinned at her, and then ducked out, leaving her friend to rest. She sneezed again but didn’t let it slow her down. She had a new mission. And for Riza Hawkeye, she’d do it—sneezing or not!

[corrieander]

Fireworks: Bucky x Sarah, Epilogue

Hi everybody! Crazy week is over, so here is the last chapter of this fic. Thanks so much for reading along! I’m still getting the hang of tagging people, so here’s to: @sincerelyyourz @teenagecookieexpertangel @wyndandwoods @mylifeasafangirl @jasminedayz​ 

Thanks!

P.s. I’ll put up a master post in a minute, while I’m thinking about it, so people don’t have to go scrolling for chapters. :-)

Epilogue - July 5, New Orleans

The government official who was currently debriefing Sarah didn’t seem to like her answers.

On the other hand, she was enjoying herself.

She’d already gone over the whole experience from her perspective—give or take the last moment when Sandhurst’s disc exploded—and was now answering questions. She was seated in a white reclining chair, much like a dental chair—while a doctor worked to remove the disc from her neck.

The doctor, nice-looking Asian woman with steady hands, was using a tool to carefully remove the outer two layers of her skin, the part that had (apparently) fused with the molecules of the disc. Another man was in charge of questions.

“Do I have the extra discs from Sandhurst?” she repeated. “No. Horrible things. Good Lord, you don’t think I’d be hoarding something he called slave discs, do you? Did I destroy them?’ She thought briefly of the detonator in Sam’s hands, in her boys’ hands, taking turns blowing them up. “No, I sure didn’t, but I would have if I could.”

The man eyed her. She had the feeling he was pretty good at reading people. But she wasn’t lying, so he could go suck eggs.

“Sandhurst’s disc?” Sarah kept her head tilted at an odd angle for the doctor, studying the upper corner of the peach ceiling above the man’s head, while he asked more questions. She didn’t care for his tie, it clashed.

“It exploded, right?” Sarah confirmed. “No, I didn’t see it, I was up in the press room with Darcy. Did she do it on purpose? Ha. She was as shocked as I was! She’d been working it all out so fast, trying to duplicate his signal before anything could happen. The president could have died, you know?” Sarah was all wide-eyed innocence. “I’d say we’re all darn lucky she’s on our side. That woman is hell on wheels.”

Sarah felt a sharp tug and then a sharp pinch just below her jaw. “Ow! Don’t think that part got numbed.”

Almost before she’d finished speaking, Bucky slammed the door open. He’d been in a room same as hers, next door.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Sarah said. “Just hit a sore spot.”

The doctor held up the disc with forceps. “All done.” She bandaged Sarah with a small white square of white gauze and tape. Bucky had a similar, but larger one on his arm.

The man tucked his clipboard under his arm. “We can continue in my office.”

Bucky came to give Sarah a hand as she sat up. “She’s done.”

“Well, Mr. Barnes—”

His eyes cooled. “Did she finish her statement?”

“Yes, but I have some follow-up questions.”

“That’s what we all have phone for,” he said. “Ms. Wilson needs to recuperate at home.”

The man didn’t look entirely happy, but he also looked a little nervous.

Now both Sarah and Bucky were enjoying themselves.

As they paused in the hall outside the patient rooms, they could hear Darcy where she was being interrogated, because the door was propped open.

Interrogated was probably the wrong word, Sarah decided, because Darcy was barely letting her agent, a sleek, coiffed older woman, get a word in edgewise.

“So, it was one thing to piggyback the signal, but reverse polarizing the frequency and then exactly matching the pulse intervals, was no easy shit! Man, I am proud of the work I did. All while I was disced, too!”

Sarah peeked into the room. Darcy was laying on her stomach, while another doctor removed the disc from the back of her neck. Her long hair was tied up in a bun.

“If you’re giving out medals,” Darcy continued, “I would totally take one. Even Tony has a medal, at this point, and it’s kind of insufferable. What’s that? Button? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but my entire code is at your disposal. Sandhurst? That creep coded failsafe explosives into everyone of his disc thingies—I mean, it was only a matter of time until it backfired. What is it with psychopaths, amirite?” She laughed.

The lady asked her another question.

“The twitter pic, you mean, of that adorable group hug? Did you see how many retweets I got? Da-amn, I am gonna rival Taylor Swift at this rate. People love it. And they’re all like, who’s that hot mama in the hug? And a bunch are like, no, she must be like a sister to him!” She cackled, wiping her eyes. The lady asked another question and Darcy sobered up like lightning. “Are Bucky and Sarah in a relationship? What an inappropriate question. How dare you. Ask them.”

Bucky squeezed Sarah’s hand with a rueful half-smile. They kept walking. Clearly Darcy was holding her own.

Another older woman met them in the lobby. “James?” she said. “I was just sent to find you.”

“Oh.” He looked a little blank, and Sarah squeezed his hand. “Right,” he said. “Dr. Raynor, this is Sarah Wilson. Sarah, Dr. Raynor.” He frowned. “Are they starting up my therapy again?”

“Your best friend—” she glanced at their hands, “and Ms. Wilson got mind-controlled yesterday. You nearly did as well. The president was involved. People are unhappy.”

Bucky sighed. “Should we get it over with then? No offense, doc. But I slept on a couch and the boys were way more energetic this morning than we were.”

Her lips quirked. “The boys?”

Sarah cleared her throat. “My two boys, Cass and AJ. Woke us all up around six.”

“Hm. Well, they’ve given me an office to use,” Dr. Raynor said briskly. “Let’s not waste it. Why don’t you accompany us, ma’am?”

Sarah was a little surprised but shrugged and followed them.

When they were seated on either side of a messy desk—which Dr. Raynor looked at with great disapproval—she opened a notebook. “Tell me James, are you still having nightmares?”

Sarah glanced at Bucky. Last night they’d fallen asleep sitting next to each other on the sofa in her living room, half-reclined, a little uncomfortable, but... good. He hadn’t wanted to go back to his rented room, and she hadn’t been sorry to have him stay. She knew the whole horror show was over, but she’d still been tense.

“No nightmares... lately.”

“Did your experience yesterday cause any flashbacks?”

“No.”

“Did you kill Basil Sandhurst?”

Sarah’s lip twitched. She was glad when Bucky could honestly say, “No.”

“I did hurt some people though, doc,” he said. “Rule #2. But it doesn’t count on a mission, right?”

“Mm.” She scribbled in her notebook.

“She does this a lot,” Bucky said to Sarah. “It’s terrible. I can’t imagine what she’s like at parties.”

Sarah grinned.

Dr. Raynor raised her gaze. “Speaking of parties, I was told you and Sam celebrated out on the Wilson’s boat last night.”

“That’s right,” Bucky said. “Fireworks for the boys. Soda for all. Coke,” he corrected himself. “Everybody calls soda coke down here.”

“Bucky likes root beer,” Sarah added. “Same as the kids.”

“Tastes like a good memory,” Bucky agreed.

  Dr. Raynor was starting to smile. Bucky wasn’t sure he’d seen her do that before; not like this. It was a little off-putting.

“Can I see your phone?” Dr. Raynor asked.

Bucky sighed and leaned forward to pull it out of his back pocket.

Sarah scoffed, amused. “You just give this white woman your phone when she asks? You’re whipped, Bucky.”

He shrugged. “Its easier than holding her off.” Also, he was... proud of his phone now. He had numbers in it, calls logged, texts to and fro. AJ and Cass sending him photos or memes. Nate reminding him to get milk for the two of them. Carlos asking him to bring big Captain America balloons to Sam’s birthday last month. Sarah...

The doctor flicked through a few things. Handed it back. Wrote in her notebook.

“So, Ms. Wilson had to stab you yesterday. Any residual side effects from that? Anger? Fear? Regret?”

Bucky looked over at Sarah. If they ever got to a point where... well, where they were wearing fancy clothes and saying I do, and she asked at some point, when he knew he wanted to marry her, it would be that moment.

“No, no side effects. She saved me. I ain’t never—well, you know already, doc—but I’m not ever going to have total closure from Hydra. But that moment, feeling his control creep over me and then having Sarah, somebody I care about, just annihilate the link... That’s probably as close as I’ll ever get, isn’t it?”

“Hm. And what would you say—either of you—is the state of your relationship at this point? And where would you like it to go?”

Bucky froze. She’d done this with Sam, more or less, so he shouldn’t be surprised. But he hadn’t really talked to Sarah about their relationship last night. She’d just been kidnapped, for heaven’s sake. It was enough to be close and hold her hand and know they were going somewhere.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know what your relationship is with him, but you sure don’t know me well enough to ask all that.”

“At this point,” Bucky said slowly, “state of my relationship? Lucky. Where’s it going? Well.” He started to smile at Sarah. “Sam mentioned once that you used to go swing dancing. Do you think... you might want to go dancing sometime?”

Her eyes twinkled. “It’s been eight years for me and a lot more for you... but yes. I’m willing to shake off the rust.”

“Then I guess that’s where we’re going next,” Bucky said. They both looked at Dr. Raynor.

She was a tough old broad, but Bucky could swear she had a bit of wet sheen to her eyes. “Sounds like a solid plan,” she said.

The door behind them opened and Sam stuck his head in. “Aw! You doing a therapy session without me? Did she make you do the eye contact thing? He’s freakin’ good at that, Sarah, don’t even try to beat him.”

Dr. Raynor waved them away. “I’m supposed to talk to you next, Mr. Wilson, why don’t you have a seat? Bucky and Sarah, pleasure talking to you both.”

Sam crossed his arms and sat. “This is no fun by myself. Did you see the comments on Darcy’s twitter thread? People are all like, Winter Soldier and Captain America don’t need a love interest. Not that I’m saying I’m okay with you two, but who the hell are they to say?”

Bucky’s lips quirked. “Do you want me to stay?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Get outta here, man.”

Bucky took Sarah’s hand again as they left the center in New Orleans. “I’m really hungry,” he said. “How about you?”

“Yep, and I know a real good place near here. You haven’t been there yet.” She smiled as they climbed into his truck and started it up. “Is this a date?”

He put his arm behind her seat and turned to look over his shoulder as he reversed. “No, but only because dates are special, this is just lunch. When I take you on a date, you’ll know.”

She laughed. “Which I appreciate. But frankly, as a single mom, any meal with a fine man without my kids is a date. Heck, my husband and I used to sit on the back porch with a glass of wine and call it a date.”

Bucky got a little thoughtful when she mentioned her husband, though she’d mentioned him before, now and again.

One half of her mouth tightened up. “Did I make it too serious? I’m not suggesting we go zero to sixty—that’d be strange anyway—but I can’t help thinking of him when I’m with you sometimes. That’s the last date I went on.”

Bucky took one hand off the wheel to hold hers. “It means the world that you’d go on the next one with me.”

Sarah studied his profile until he looked at her, his blue eyes intense, sincere. “I’m hoping for everything, Sarah. You should know that. You can step back at any moment—you need time for that—but that’s where I am.” He brought her hand up and kissed it.

Sarah felt herself blushing. “Sam was right. It is your eyes. They make a girl think things.”

When Bucky pulled up at the restaurant, under a spreading oak that shaded half the parking lot, their hands were still together. He tentatively pulled her towards him, and Sarah leaned into him, meeting his kiss.

“I take it back,” Bucky said after a few moments. “I will definitely count this as a date.”

I love you, Sarah, he thought. And though he didn’t say it out loud, Sarah could definitely read it in his eyes.

[hauntednighttraveler]

Paul Lahote x f!reader wisdom teeth

Y/N POV 

Paul wanted to take me to my appointment only to film me waking up from the sedation and show the pack. I needed a driver and didn't have the energy to fight him on the issue, so here I am in the car with a giddy giant wolf puppy. Hopefully, I won’t say anything too bad when I wake up. Or maybe I can sweet talk my way into getting Paul to delete the video so I don't die of embarrassment. 

Paul glances at me as he's driving, sensing my anxiety before the procedure. 

"Don't worry Y/N! The doc said that it should take about 45 minutes and that they do this stuff all the time! You'll be fine! And if not, they'll have to answer to me." 

He grabbed my hand and gently kissed it to help calm my nerves. He can be so caring when he's not riled up by his pack. 

I leaned closer to him and smiled. " I know. I just can't help but feel anxious you know? It'll be the first time since I've been completely vulnerable to the world and I'll practically depend on you for a while after the procedure. I don't like feeling helpless. I need my independence. Plus it's going to suck not being able to eat my favorite foods." As I turn my head back to look out the window I pursed my lips at the thought of not being able to chew food for a while. 

We enjoyed the silence as we continued our drive to the doctor's office. My heart sped up even faster as we pulled into the parking lot. 

I turned to Paul and looked at him earnestly. " We can still back out. Are you sure you'll be able to take care of me with your broken arm? I'm sure you have better things to do than look after me." 

He chuckled. " I wouldn't miss this for the world, babe. You know I'll always protect you even if I'm near death. A lousy arm won't stop me from protecting you. I couldn't think of a better place to be right now than being next to you." 

" Awe that's so sweet Paul! Sometimes I wonder how I got to be so lucky." My heart turned to mush at Paul's declaration. 

" Also, I can't wait to see you after the procedure! You'll be so out of it. It'll make a great movie for our next pack movie night!" Paul winked at me after giving me a smirk. 

*Sigh* He just had to ruin the moment with his big mouth. 

A nurse comes to get me once we're all checked in. I glance back at Paul one last time before going to the back. Taking a deep breath in I mentally prepare myself. 

Paul's POV 

I nervously look at my watch. It’s been 45 minutes already, why hasn’t she come out yet? If that doc messed anything up, today will be his last day practicing. Five more minutes pass and I get up to ask the front desk what’s taking so long. Before I reach the window, I can smell and hear Y/N coming. 

The first glance at her made my heart turn to mush. The way she looked so out of it and helpless, reminded me of a drunk Y/N. But this drunk version of Y/N had regressed to a helpless toddler. Two nurses were holding onto her arms, trying their best to help her walk and make sure she didn’t fall to the ground. Apparently, Y/N was so out of it she didn’t know how to walk properly. The nurses were trying to get Y/N to lock her knees so that she wouldn’t collapse and take two nurses down with her. Deciding to put the nurses out of their misery, I walked up and took Y/N from them. 

“Thank you, guys! I’m sorry for the trouble she caused you!” I waved them goodbye and they watched me now struggle to get a drugged up Y/N 50ft to our car. 

We finally made it to the car and Y/N seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. Once I got her seatbelt on I encountered a new problem. Y/N kept flopping down to her left. Boy was her neck going to hurt when she woke up. 

As we are about five minutes away from the office, Y/N jumps up from slouching, startling me to death. She turns her head slowly towards me and I see a look of confusion hidden by her glazed eyes. 

In a muffled voice thanks to the gauze, she quietly asks, “Who are you?!” 

I chuckle in my head. Out loud I tell her, “I’m Paul, your boyfriend.” 

She gasps as best as she could and exclaims, “ You are?!” She then proceeds to slump back down as quickly as she jumped up earlier. 

This is going to be so much fun. I glance over at her periodically. A smile is plastered on my face as I study her features. Her cheeks are protruding from the gauze in her mouth, giving her the essence of a chipmunk stuffing their mouth. 

Suddenly, Y/N pops back up and stares at me with her deer in the headlight eyes. “Who are you?!” 

Laughing once again, I tell her, “ I’m Paul, your boyfriend.” I wonder how many times we’ll go through this charade. 

Surprised yet again, Y/N slumps back down into unconsciousness. 

30 minutes pass and I think Y/N has allowed a deep sleep to take over. Boy was I wrong. Without warning yet again for what felt like the 20th time, my little chipmunk pops up again scaring the ever-loving Jesus out of me. 

I hear her sniffing as if searching for something. Her face lights up like a child’s on Christmas Day. “I smell pizza!” 

“You can’t have pizza. We have some soup for you at home.” As I give Y/N the news, her face quickly morphs into the face of a child being told no for the first time in their life. My heart broke at the sight of her face. I would give her all the pizza in the world to make her smile. 

As if forgetting her discovery of pizza, Y/N takes another quick sniff and shouts, “ I smell pasta!” She’s clapping her hands with the biggest grin on her face. 

Again I have to break her spirits and tell her about the soup. Instead of smelling something else, Y/N quickly slumps back into the unknown. Peace engulfs the car. 

After about 5 more times of Y/N popping up and smelling foods, we finally make it to our apartment. Remembering how difficult it was to get her to walk with the nurses, dread came over me at the realization that we live on the 3rd floor of our complex and we don’t have an elevator. If at all possible, I wanted to avoid picking Y/N up like a rag doll. I didn’t feel like cleaning up puke this early in the morning. I make my way to Y/N’s side of the car. I gently shake her to wake her up. 

Startled, she stares behind me, looking around. “ Where are we?” 

“We are at home! Time to get you upstairs!” I make a motion to grab her right arm to support her. As I try and support Y/N with one arm, I silently curse myself for injuring my right arm. Even with my super wolf powers, to say that my left arm was severely lacking compared to my right was an understatement. 

The first few steps towards our complex gave me false hope. Things seemed to be going fine, except Y/N kept blacking out. We almost fell face forward when she blanked out mid-step up the curb. If our neighbors saw us right now, they would definitely call the cops on me thinking I drugged Y/N and was going to do something bad to her. I would never in a million years do something as disgusting as that. People like that are cowards and should be destroyed. 

We finally make it to the stairs after fumbling for a good 5 minutes only to have traveled a couple of feet. I stare up at the 3 flights of stairs we have to take, the journey looking daunting. Fed up with how slow and how little progress we have made, I decide to throw Y/N over my shoulder and walk up the stairs. I made sure to take the stairs slowly, trying not to push my luck, there would be no puke to clean up so help me God. 

Three flights of stairs later and we land at our apartment. I set Y/N down and we make it to our bedroom. I stopped her right before the bed and tell her to turn and sit down hoping that she’ll turn and sit on the bed. Apparently, all she heard was sit, and down she slumped to the floor, almost taking me with her. As I huffed getting up, I stared at her sweet blissful face, almost getting mad at her, almost. I won’t admit it to Y/N, but I had more than half a mind to leave her on the floor. But I couldn’t do that to my precious Y/N. Trying again, I pick her up off the floor and I am able to successfully get her top front half onto the bed. Although it may look like she was being smothered, I took it as a small victory. That is until she started sliding back off of the bed. Quickly I used my good arm and knee to stop her from undoing all of my hard work. I slide her body onto the bed and take off her shoes. Immediately after getting her right shoe off, she flips over in the blink of an eye. I leap to the other side of the bed, praying she doesn’t roll off before I get there. Thankfully, our bed is king-sized, stopping her from exerting too much energy to continue rolling. Instead, her final position has her spread out like a starfish, on top of the covers with her goofy smile front and center. Needing a drink after this fiasco, I head to the kitchen and grab myself a beer. I slouch on the couch next to our husky, Meliodas, thinking of all the stories I can’t wait to tell Y/N when she wakes up. 

[emrysaf]

Anything (To Make You Smile)

Bakugou x OC - There will have to be a part two. . . If y’all wanna read it??

Let me know! 

Coffee?

Things had seemed to get back to normal, or as close as they could be, after Bakugou was rescued from the League of Villains and All For One was captured. Seemed; being the key word.

Sure, the school had dorms now. And everyone was perfecting their special moves. Then the licensing exam on its way. 

But as far as interactions between the classmates, now friends, went. . . It was normal. For most.

For Y/N, her quirk gave her an all access pass to see the inner workings of her opponent. More importantly, it gave a deeper look at how her friends were doing after everything. 

Dubbed ‘Scanner’, Y/N’s quirk gave an analytical look at others’ stats like a video game, but more like a visual representation of their auras in different areas and colors. It covered the other person’s health, power, quirk type, level, emotional or mental state among other aspects. Each had a respective color and the depth of that color was the gauge of percentage. 

For example, if she activated her quirk here in the common area of the dorms she would see a bright, sunflower-yellow around Kaminari that seemed to kind of flare and wane at random intervals but Y/N would also see a calming rose-pink that appeared kind of fuzzy, like looking at the air distortion above a campfire, trailing from behind his ears and down his neck to his chest. 

(Currently, Denki was holding a couple friends’ devices to charge while he listened to Jiro talk about something or other with puppy eyes.)

Despite the fact that Y/N tried not to pry into her classmate’s lives and privacy she was still a teenage student. AKA, she was still learning control on parts of her quirk, and a factor of said control was when other people’s ‘stats’ fluctuated too much. This would activate Y/N’s quirk. 

Aizawa theorized it was a defense mechanism from the secondary aspect of her quirk; being that she could take stat levels from one person (herself included) and temporarily give or put them on another person. Like a booster or an ankle weight, depending on what it was.

The sleepy teacher thought her quirk would activate with great fluctuation because the other part of her quirk was prepared to swap out a threat’s strength or to “Mother Hen” someone to fix a sad or upset emotional or mental level.

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

Now came the not-so-normal part of being back after the League’s attack at training camp.

Y/N had wanted to go help Bakugou. 

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

She had been found out cold in the forest when her quirk kept self-activating and trying to ‘help’ during the attack. The stress, fluctuating power levels, emotions and people kept her quirk popping on and off until she passed out. Aizawa himself had found her, and had thought the worst when he found another young student pale, cold and unconscious on the forest floor. When the police and paramedics came he was told Y/N had blacked out due to a seizure.

In the hospital they were alerted to Y/N finally waking by an intense and pained screaming coming from her room. When staff rushed in they found Y/N crouched in the corner of the room with the IVs and other monitors ripped out and her hands over her eyes. Finally able to calm the girl down they got Y/N to safely let go of her tight grip on her own face, but saw her pupils growing and shrinking at opposite but erratic times. The doctor quickly decided to wrap over her eyes for some reprieve.

When the class came to see her after seeing Midoryia, they were shocked. The usually bright-faced Y/N was sitting in the corner she had refused to move from with stark white gauze wrapped tightly over her eyes and around her head. Kirishima had planned to ask Y/N to come along, knowing she and Midoryia were close friends and her brash nature would come in handy with their rescue mission. 

But after seeing the broken girl, he made the most mature decision the young faux-red head would make that night and wished her well without mentioning it. He knew if he said anything Y/N would want to come regardless of whatever was going on with her. She was always that way; caring about all of them, others, too much.

“Aizawa-Sensei says they are making me some glasses or goggles. . . To help my quirk-sight. I can’t always control it, and apparently it’s affecting my health. So. . . It’ll be mandatory.”

No. He couldn’t tell you. Like Midoryia, you would only hurt yourself and he could only handle one of those on his conscience right now.

So they left, and later Y/N found out from Tsu. She had called in tears while All Might’s showdown was happening. Another thing Y/N wasn’t able to see. . .

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

Back to the present, Y/N wasn’t required to wear the support goggles in the dorms or during personal rec time, but they were mandatory for training and other class/school activities. It just so happened that when everyone was ‘home’ in the dorms is when their moods and such would fluctuate most, but Y/N wasn’t going to tell Aizawa that and risk having the googles permanently attached to her face. Plus, she reasoned, ‘I need to learn to control this better.’

During down time is when Y/N began to notice her quirk flickering on and off around Bakugou more and more. Now, Y/N had always had a. . . softer spot for the spiky-haired-boom-boom-boy. As in, she had a big fat crush but had tried to squash it down as much as possible, and even more now after what he went through. Apparently her quirk was having none of that.

They were all messing around out on the lawn one afternoon before the licensing exam when Midoryia did something klutzy and hurt himself. Everyone chuckled, Izuku included, and Y/N’s gaze flickered over to Bakugou while her quirk switched on of its own accord and she was disappointed in what she saw; both in her eyes and with her quirk-sight.

No smile. Nothing. His yellow power-level was bright and blazing as usual. His deep reddish-orange flares from his hands to signify a fire or explosive emitter type were the same. The deep green of his physical health level seemed to pulse from his core as normal. But his emotional and mental colors were dipping and spiking and intertwining like a sad dance. Blue, deep and roiling like the ocean in a storm, and a nasty grey-brown splashing along. Sadness, shame, frustration. Then deep black gashes with a dark red outline like deep open wounds across the other colors. Mental state, not good.

All Y/N could think was, ‘I just want to see a smile. Not at me. Not for me. Just to be okay. Smile like when that kid punched Deku in his junk. . . Anything. Anything at all.’

With that it was decided. Y/N was going to help him. Y/N would make him smile again. For him it didn’t matter the implications with her unstable power. Anything for him.

[since0202]

Chapter 26: Heal

Grace woke up to the low, cloudy light of dawn breaking around her. The low light still caused her vision to go in and out of focus as a throbbing headache made its debut. She groaned, raising a sore arm to her face and rubbed it. 

She had no concept of time or where she was but she felt deep, pulsing pain throughout her body. She tentatively touched at her midsection and sucked in a breath like a hiss as the tender skin felt too hot to touch. Grace slowly stretched the fingers on each of her hands and felt the excruciating pain shoot down her wrist and up her arm. She felt battered, like she’d been stamped by a thousand hot irons pounding at her body for hours. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but Grace tried her best to push her body upright into a sitting position. A painful moan escaped her as her vision went black.

“Hey, woah woah woah.” Suddenly there was someone kneeling beside her, bracing her back, their hand hot and firm. She knew that voice. 

“Where am I?” Grace said, her voice scratchy and hushed like she had a sore throat. 

“My place.” Paul said, his face coming into better focus. “Drink this.” He held a glass of water to her lips and she drank gratefully, draining the glass easily and gasping for air afterward. 

“Where’s Jake?” she croaked. Grace was too disorientated to even take in the fact that she was in her ex-boyfriend’s bed in a home that was supposed to be hers. That ache had no room to exist as her body screamed at every move she made. 

“They took him home. He’s okay, he’s healing.” Paul was scanning her body frantically. He didn’t know what to do when she had passed out. He just knew he had to get her out of that clearing before the ancient vampires —Volturi the doc had called them—came into the clearing to kill them all. So he rushed her to his home. She had been out for a solid 18 hours until now. 

Grace rubbed her eyes and tried to bring more things into focus. She looked down at herself, still wincing at even the slightest movement. She was wearing one of Paul’s shirts and her pants were missing. 

“My clothes,” she said groggily, an aching finger pulling at the shirt she had on. 

“Yours were covered in blood,” he breathed. “You scared the hell out of me. Grace being in that clearing was not part of the plan. You could have gotten killed, why the fuck did you do that?” his voice rose slightly as anger flooded him. Seeing her in the clearing had sent a shock wave through him. One he felt rippled down the pack. 

But he had to admit that once she was there, they felt renewed, faster, more agile, their adrenaline at seeing her allowed each wolf to tap into a stronger or maybe more panicked version of themselves. Sam had been the most upset. He was trying to keep everyone safe and was pulled in so many directions during the fight, dividing his attention to ensure no one died on his watch. And when Grace came into the clearing, that attention dialed in to just her. It was maddening for him. Paul thought he’d attack Grace instead of the newborns for a second.

Grace looked at the empty glass and said in a hoarse voice: “Can I have some more water?” 

Paul nodded, letting out a huff of air and stood up to get her more. When he went into the kitchen there was a soft knock at the front door. He set the glass down and pulled it open. 

Rachel. 

“I come bearing gifts.” She said, a small smile on her face. Paul felt his stomach drop. Just seeing her made everything swim in his head. His eyes cast around her face to the beautiful sprinkle of freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose to the strand of hair that fell in front of her perfectly tinted russet skin. Her amber eyes almost glittered and her full, ruby lips pulled open into a welcoming smile. 

“Um, hey.” Paul mustered. She let out a light laugh and returned a “hey.” 

His eyes fell to the stack of clothes in her hands. “I brought some clothes over for her. Thought she might need it, what with all the blood.” 

“How’s Jacob?” Paul said. He could see the pain there on her face. 

“Yeah, he’s okay. It’s going to take a bit for him to heal, but the doctor has him on a morphine drip to keep him comfortable. My human biology course isn’t really coming in handy as much as I thought it would considering the whole….wolf...thing.” Rachel paused to look Paul up and down. She’d been given a crash course in the pack’s secret once Paul had imprinted on her. He had also demanded that Sam let him tell her.

She held out the clothes in Paul’s silence, her warmth never leaving her voice. “Here. She’s only a little bit shorter than me, but these should fit.” Paul took the clothes, their hands brushing in the process. Rachel blushed and Paul tried to keep the heat from rising in his body. 

“Thanks.” he said. Wow. So eloquent. Great job, Paul. Real smooth. You have seen a girl before you know? Idiot. The thoughts raced through his head. 

“Okay, well. See you later!” she trilled before hopping down the steps, stumbling just a little in her overexcitement. Paul automatically took a step forward like he was going to help her but she held a hand up and laughed, heading toward her car. 

Paul carried the glass of water and clothes back to his bedroom and kneeled by the bed where Grace sat with her head in her hands. 

“Hey.” he gently said holding the glass out. She took it but it started to slip from her fingers. He placed his hand on top of hers and helped tip the glass so she could drink. 

He set the half empty glass down next to the bed and held out the clothes to her. “Something to change into.” Grace gently folded her arms around the clothes and gave a soft ‘Thanks.’ 

Her head was still spinning and showing no signs of stopping. The ache was growing rather than subsiding and she felt an excruciating need to get out of here. 

“Can you take me to Jake?” she said automatically, trying to listen to her body. Paul hesitated, his eyes staring at Grace, trying not to touch her. 

“Yeah.” he whispered, pain apparent in his voice. Grace tried to focus on his face but he kept disappearing behind a blur making its way across her vision. “Can you stand?” he asked. 

She hadn’t considered this. Her body felt weighted in a pain she’d never experienced before. 

“Can you help?” she said as she winced and tried to pull herself up. Paul grabbed her easily, like he was meant for it, and took the weight off of her limbs as he pulled her into a standing position on the floor. He gently placed her on her feet, slowly letting her weight come down. She gripped his forearms for support and felt the blinding pain of standing on her own. Without meaning too, she let out a sharp cry of pain and a pitiful “Ow, ow, ow,” that triggered Paul to panic and lift her again. 

“Okay, that’s not gonna work.” Paul said, “I don’t think we should move you yet.” 

“Just help me get dressed,” Grace said, her labored breathing returning. Paul looked at her carefully and then nodded his head. Grace was flushed with embarrassment but didn’t see any other way. He gently removed the shirt he had changed her into before putting her and she shivered. Paul tried to keep his face straight. Looking at her now felt different and filled him with guilt. Grace didn’t even bother trying to cover her exposed chest before Paul pulled the University of Washington shirt over her head that Rachel had brought. He leaned down and Grace raised her leg to thread through the fitted matching sweats. He pulled them up around her hips and tightened the strings on them, tying it into a loose knot so they stayed put. He picked her up under her knees and took her to the car, stone faced, trying not to think about how warm her body felt in his arms. 

When he pulled up to the Black residence, he could see some members of the pack filtering out of the house. He popped open his door and they came over to him.

“Is she okay?” Embry asked worried, his eyes pulled to where she sat, eyes closed, in the front seat. 

“I’m not sure. Is the doc here?” Paul replied. Quil shook his head. 

“He just left but we can get him back if you need.” 

“Yeah, maybe. I need to get her inside, she’s been asking for Jake.” 

Embry and Quil gave him a surprised look. He didn’t really want to deal with the barrage of questions. “Just go get the leech.” He said annoyed. They nodded at him wordlessly and were off, slowing to stare at Grace as they went past. 

Paul grabbed her from the car gently and walked her into the tiny house. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with her, but when she murmured a sign of being awake, he gave an exhausted sigh and walked her toward the back of the house where Jake’s room was. When he pushed open the door, Sam was there. The tiny room didn’t afford for this many people but Grace was already awake and pulling out of his arms, reaching for the bed. 

“Put me down,” she grumbled. Paul tentatively set her down, holding around her waist in case she fell. Grace looked hypnotized, her body reacting to seeing Jake’s motionless frame sprawled on the bed. His face was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was pulling in deep labored breaths that were raspy and tight. 

“Doc said his lung collapsed but that it was healing. He had to reset all of the bones on the right side of his body because he healed too fast and they fused together unevenly.” Sam’s voice shot through with pain. Paul saw the guilt there—Sam thought it was his fault that Jake got hurt and thought he’d never forgive himself.

Grace, still entranced, pulled herself onto the bed next to Jake. She shimmied herself  into the left side of his body that wasn’t wrapped up in gauze and buried her head in the crook of his neck. His left arm automatically circled around her waist and his breathing evened out some, the rasp cooling. Grace immediately felt the relief crash through both of them. Her pain ebbed and she let the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep. 

At some point later in the day Carlisle came in, but Grace floated in and out of consciousness as he took her vitals. He seemed perplexed by her state, muttering something about not being able to get a good read on anything since it was so inconsistent. Since he had limited knowledge on how their wolf bodies healed and even less knowledge on how Grace’s bodies interacted with theirs, he didn’t feel confident giving a determination or diagnosis. 

Jacob was improving quickly and was able to be conscious for longer periods of time over the next day. He wouldn’t let anyone take Grace from him though, keeping his arm tightly around her as she struggled to pull in air through her throat. She seemed to be getting worse for some reason. 

Sam spent most of his time sat in a chair in Jacob’s room or wandering up and down the short hallway, pulling at the nape of his neck. Emily was having a hard time getting him to eat. 

“Should we get Ti’Hal?” she asked Sam at one point. 

“Not yet.” Sam said, afraid of what she might say. But it became apparent that they’d need to call her in sooner than later when Grace stayed asleep for a solid 24 hours, the sounds in her chest starting to rattle. Jacob's lung was almost healed at this point. 

When Ti’Hal shuffled into the small room, Jake was awake, his arm wound around Grace. He had slowly pulled her more and more on top of him in an attempt to bring her closer. Her body was now draped over the left side of his, her head in the center of his chest. Ti’Hal gave Jake a soft smile and put her hand to his cheek, closing her eyes. 

“You’re healing well,” she acknowledged. He nodded but looked down at Grace, concern warping his features. “Ah.” she said, “But you’re not worried about you.” She moved to place her hand on Grace’s forehead and one on her back. Ti’Hal sat for awhile just listening to Grace. 

“She’s healing,” she finally said. A domino of sighs could be heard in the living room where most of the pack had been milling about, listening intently. “But she’s healing you first,” Ti’Hal said definitively. 

“What?” Jacob said surprised. “Why?”

“She’s healing him?” Sam said incredulously. 

“First, she heals him and then herself. She protects, heals, defends, and connects. But you haven’t made it easy on her.” Ti’Hal suddenly said looking over her shoulder at Sam and then back to Jacob. She wasn’t accusatory, simply stating a fact. Something she understood better than them. 

“We’re still figuring it out, Ti’Hal,” Sam said with some strain in his voice. 

“Figure it out together. Or you’ll end up putting her in more danger,” she said sternly, closing her eyes once more to feel Grace and then taking her leave. “She should wake soon. I suggest you don’t move her and keep her close to Jacob so as not to interfere with the healing.” Sam nodded and helped her to the door where her granddaughter was waiting to ferry her back home. 

“So we wait.” Jared said in the living room. Sam turned around and nodded. 

“We wait.” 

Paul stirred uncomfortably on the couch. Rachel was in the kitchen cooking them some food with the help of Emily. None of the pack wanted to be away from the Black residence or Grace for too long until they knew she was in the clear so they spent their afternoon and evening huddled in the small living room, eating and joking and watching TV or spilling out onto the lawn to kick around the soccer ball. 

Word got out about “the accident” and the community showed up. Theo Merdra, the local carpenter even stopped by and made it a point to say he’d come and fix their sagging porch and install a proper wheelchair ramp for Billy. He even replaced a rusted rain gutter while he was there and had his son clean the debris from the roof. 

Bella showed up every few hours to check on Jake and Grace and helped clean and cook. She brought over a duffel bag of clothes, a toothbrush, and toiletries for Grace for when she woke up knowing she’d need to shower. She asked Rachel to call her as soon as Grace was up so she could come and help. 

The Black residence was soon overrun with a massive amount of food, some of Sue’s friends came by and cleaned up the house. George Runnings fixed the wiring on the back of their fridge since it kept blinking on and off. Billy was overcome with emotion. Everyone who came through did their best to keep it down to ensure they didn’t disturb Jacob or Grace. Jacob was almost fully healed by the second day and only moved from her side to go to the bathroom. 

Carlisle had stayed away to ensure he didn’t overstay his welcome with the community descending on the Black home. But he was itching to get back to monitor Grace. As the sun set on the second day, Grace’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Hey,” Jacob said, cupping a hand to her face.

“I need to sit up,” she croaked. 

“Okay, okay,” Jake said. He pulled his body up and rested it against the wall and then gently pulled Grace between his legs so her back rested against his chest. He looped his arms around her stomach and she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, winded by the sudden movement but breathing clearly.

“How do you feel?” Jacob whispered. Grace laid her hands on top of his and looked out the window at the people gathering around a makeshift bonfire in the twilight. Seth was kicking a ball around with Jared and Embry. The sounds of happy voices floated in through the window. 

“Like shit.” Grace finally breathed. “But better. You?” 

“Like new,” he said, kissing the side of her head. She closed her eyes at the warm feeling. 

“How long have I been out?” 

“Couple of days.” 

“Mmm,” she replied, lazily sinking into Jacob’s embrace and turning her head to face into his neck. He rested his head lightly on top of hers and pulled her in a little closer, making sure she was tightly nestled into his body. 

“Grace?” Jacob said softly. 

“Mmm?” she replied again, starting to drift in and out. 

“We really need a shower.” He laughed softly, his body shaking her some and her face cracked into a smile, starting to laugh too. 

“Oh my god,” she mumbled. “Gross.” Tears sprang to Jacob’s eyes as he pressed another firm kiss to her forehead. He was so happy she was awake, she was alive, and she was here. The thought of losing her in that clearing suddenly washed over him and he squeezed her ever so slightly. 

“You okay?” Grace muttered sleepily, her hand coming to gently rest on his cheek where she felt the clear damp of tears on his face. 

“Fine. You just smell...really really bad. It’s making my eyes water.” he joked, letting out a choked laugh. 

“Nice one,” she breathed before drifting off to sleep. 

Late that evening, Grace was feeling good enough to get up. With Jake behind her, she stood on her own two feet and only winced a couple of times before standing upright. She stretched her neck around and shook out the pain in her hands. Rachel was in the doorway of the room supervising. 

“I’ll call Bella,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen. Grace made her way slowly into the hallway toward the living room. Leah was there, biting her thumb and when she saw Grace come into the room and shot to her feet. 

“Grace, I’m so so sorry,” she said. She’d been holding in her guilt for the past three days. Grace waved her off and said, 

“Leah, it’s fine. Are you okay?” Leah nearly crumbled at this question and nodded her head quickly. “Good.” Grace paused for a second and then looked dejectedly at her feet, “I really have to pee.” Leah bounded over as an uncertain look crossed Jake’s face. 

“I got it.” she said and led Grace to the bathroom. 

“Bella should be here in 15. Leah, fill up the tub while you’re in there.” Rachel called. Total mom-mode. She hugged Jacob and confirmed that he indeed did smell. 

“I’ll wait until Grace is done,” he said. “Got some grub?” Rachel smiled and opened the stuffed fridge. “Woah.” he said. 

“Take your pick. Or you can wait. I’m making mom’s homemade lasagna,” She smiled at him and he felt so glad that she was home again. Just then the pack spilled through the open door elated and pulled Jacob into a group hug. 

“You’re alive!” Seth cried. 

“Thought you were a goner for sure.” Quil said. 

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Embry said. 

“Jeez Jake, way to hog all the healing for yourself,” Jared jabbed. Sam came through the door and looked to Jake. 

“She okay?” The worry was still there. 

“Yeah, she’s in the bathroom with Leah,” Jake said, giving him a reassuring smile. Sam nodded, relief pulling down across his shoulders. 

“Who’s hungry?” Rachel said, pulling out some freshly baked lasagna. Bella arrived, taking a second to hug Jake tightly before saying, “Where is she?” 

“Bathroom,” multiple voices answered her before Jake could even open his mouth.

“Okay,” she said, her face looked flushed as she headed down the hall. She knocked on the door, announcing her presence before pushing it open. Leah came out a few seconds later and gathered around the table with the others. 

“God, I haven’t heard someone pee for that long in my entire life.” 

There was a chorus of ‘Ewws’ and ‘I’m eating’ and ‘When you gotta go you gotta go’ followed by laughter around the table as the group dug into the food. 

[anastasiabeaverhousen87]

Make wise Choices Part 1:

Hold me (baby Danvers)

Never have I ever written something in my life (except for Christmas cards for Santa when I was a kid or you know the regular affidavit when I lose a ticket for my expenses report from work, and that should count like poetry itself 🤓)

Anyways after reading for a while in different platforms I became quite curious about writing something myself. I noticed a lot of Baby Danvers fics and developed a sort of attachment to the concept of a third sister. Also I’m a sucker for fluff and sick fics. Even though I do have a dark side I wanted to try something tame first.

I have no idea if its any good and also take into consideration English is not my native language, I’m sleep deprived and using an iPhone because I’m too lazy to get my laptop and it’s like 3 am and I’m supposed to be at work in 3 hours LOL 😂

Without further ado I leave you my first story with baby danvers going through some painful wisdom teeth surgery recovery (so not an original idea but this actually happened to me and I can relate, impacted teeth sucks big time )

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PART 1

You had to get your wisdom teeth removed and you knew it was perfectly normal to experience some anxiety prior the procedure. In your case, your anxiety levels were through the roof. Your sisters knew this and of course they wanted to be there for you, and you couldn’t be more grateful for that; However, you were very nervous. Because of your anxiety you had to be sedated for the procedure and the effects very rough on you. You felt just awful and very loopy. Kara had to carry you from the dentist office to the car and up to her apartment. You were practically a rag doll in her arms, drooling saliva and blood on her sweater, because of course you were disgusted by the gauze and you took it out. Kara didn’t mind that at all, she felt bad you were feeling poorly after your surgery. You just cling to her like a koala and nuzzle your face in the crook of her neck.

Kara: “Careful there little one, don’t press your cheek into me so hard or you will hurt yourself” - Your sisters felt awful to see you like this, but you knew they were going to care for you during the following days after the procedure. Even thought you are a big baby when it comes to pain and doctors, the procedure was indeed very difficult, your teeth were impacted and required surgical extraction.

You just grunted in response and kept rubbing your face into your sister’s neck and shoulder. Until you did it too hard and felt a sharp pain in your mouth. Y/N: “Ow Ow Owie!” -You cried out and tried to move into a more comfortable position in her arms, you felt exhausted and wanted to sleep, but due to the weird feeling in your mouth and the odd sensations due to the medication you couldn’t quite find a proper spot to feel comfortable.

Alex: “Come one Y/N, don’t press your face like that and just hold on a few more minutes, we are almost home, and you can take your pain meds and sleep for a while. Don’t fall asleep before that, just hang on a little longer baby”

The three of you were in the elevator waiting to reach the apartment your shared with Kara.

Y/N: “Nooooo! I want to sleep now and eat a corn dog” – once again you rubbed your face into Kara and again, it hurt. – Ow Ow Ow!” You cried once again and tried to pout miserably, feeling just bad. You had tears in your eyes and you just looked like an overtired toddler with your big hazel teary eyes and rosy cheeks.

Alex: “Damn it Y/N, be careful you’re going to reopen the stitches and we will need to take you back to the dentist so she can patch you up. And no, you can’t have a corn dog just yet. It will hurt trying to eat something hot and solid”

Apparently, that was the worst thing to say because you just looked at her with big scared and hurt eyes and started to cry. – Y/N: “I’m sorry, but I just feel so awful and can’t get comfortable I just want to sleep. This suck! Dentists sucks, stupid wisdom teeth and stupid stitches! And I really want a corn dog Alex, pleeeease!!!!” - Moving your mouth to complain and speak your discontent made your incisions to bleed more and that of course made you cry more.

Y/N: “ugh blood taste awful!” – Kara tried to adjust you into a more comfortable position in her arms and rubbing your back in a soothing way to calm you down.  While Alex tried to clean the slobber and blood from your lips and Kara’s shoulder with a handkerchief. Both gave you a sad smile and just felt sorry for you. You were clearly in pain and felt just awful.

Alex: “Oh sweety please don’t cry, we’re almost there. Damn elevator it´s taking forever!” – she gave a frustrated sigh while trying to keep you from falling asleep and avoided mentioning the corn dog in order to make you forget about eating one.

Kara: “I know, I think there’s something wrong it, but we are almost there. Shhh… little one, we are almost there, and you can rest after your taken your meds. Ok?, Lena is waiting for us already with lots of cold juice and ice cream so you can feel better pretty soon”

You perked up at the mention of the green-eyed woman. Y/N: you sniffled and asked your sister- “Lena is here?”– It was no surprise for the Danver sisters that at the mention of the younger Luthor you would cheer up. You were very loved by your sisters and their friends, but it was no secret that you had the young CEO wrapped around your little finger. Lena was your sister Kara’s girlfriend, but she was enamored with you and she was very protective of you as well. She is like a hero to you; you admire and look up to her so much. Not that your sisters weren’t amazing as well, but the relationship you have with Lena is very special and strong.  She is always pampering you and spoils you rotten. You never take advantage of the way Lena is with you and her affection. You are not a brat, you are a very easy-going person, a ray of sunshine and everyone was smitten with you. But when your feeling down or sick you get cranky and you can be a little annoying. You know that, but you feel no shame whatsoever.

Kara: “Yes! She is waiting at the apartment and she said she was going to be prepared with lots of yummy things you can drink, and some things you can eat. We can watch movies after you rest for a bit if you want. What do you say?” – your bubbly blonde sister said while stroking you back and trying to make you stay alert for a bit more until you reached the apartment.

Y/N : You just gave her a tired smile and rubbed at your eyes with a fist and said- “Ok, that sounds nice.”

The elevator dinged and the door opened in the hallway. Alex and Kara, with you in her arms, stepped out of the elevator and walked to the apartment door. Lena was already waiting at the door with a big smile on her face, however she frowned a little when she saw your pained face and teary eyes. Your cheeks were starting to swell, and she knew the first couple of days were rough after that specific dental procedure. She also hated to see you in pain, so she just holds the door wide open to let Alex and Kara walk into the apartment.

Lena: “hi sweet girl”- she presses a kiss to your forehead while greeting Kara and Alex as well. She gave Kara a peck in the lips and asked her to put you in the couch. She walks to the kitchen to grab a bowl with cold water and a cloth to help reduce the swelling to your cheeks while Alex read trough the indications given by your doctor and sort your meds at the table.

Meanwhile Kara tries to lay you down on the couch, but you refused to let go of her and you just cling harder with your arms circling her neck and your legs into her hips. Kara just chuckles and rubs your back: “come on little one, let me set you down on the couch, you will  be more comfortable laying down and I’m just going to bring your blanket and some pillows and bring a pair of comfy pajamas so you can be more comfortable.”

But you, feeling poorly and cranky, shed some tears and asked to be held by your sister. You just felt so clingy. Y/N: “Noo… please Kara don’t go. Just stay with me I don’t need a blanket or pajamas.”

You were beyond exhausted and being up since early in the morning and since you didn’t get that much the sleep night before, you were just so nervous about the whole thing. Now that it was over, you felt all your energy drained, and in addition the pain meds were staring to wear off and that made you feel even worse.

Alex: “Sit down with her Kara, I’ll bring the blanket pillows and pajamas. Let me just grab the meds, and hey Lena can you bring a glass of water and – oh you already have a bowl of water and cloth that’s perfect, thank you. Go and sit down with Kara and set those on the coffee table. I´ll just change real  quick and we can give Y/N the meds and make her more comfortable so she can take a nap.”

Lena just nods and walks to the couch carrying the tray with a bowl with cold water, a few clean hand towels and a glass of water with your meds on it. She set the tray on the coffee table and takes one of the smalls towels and dips it into the cold water in the bowl to make a cold compress for your cheeks. She then turns to Kara and speaks softly to you.

Lena: “Y/N is it okay if I hold you for a little while so Kara can go change into more comfy clothes? What do you say, want me to sit with you for a bit?” - she gives you a big smile and you just nod and make grabby hands toward her. Kara chuckles once again at your antics and transfers you to Lena’s lap making sure you are settled alright and gives you a kiss to your forehead.

Kara: “I’ll be right back”- you just hum in approval and rest you head into Lena’s shoulder while the green eyed woman smiles down at you and brings the cool towel to your fast swelling hot cheek to make you feel better.

Y/N: “That feels nice”- you say in a sleepy voice while clinging to Lena.

Lena: “This will help with the swelling, I’m sorry you feel so poorly sweet girl. But don’t worry we are going to make sure you are comfortable, and you can take a nap after you take your pain meds. Look, Alex is here, come one just sit a little bit so you can take the pill.  Alex walks into the living room carrying several items in her arms.”

Alex: “Y/N come on kiddo I have your comfy jammies. Please sit for a bit for me baby.”  You sit with your back to Lena’s front and you hold your arms up while Alex works fast removing your current top and bra and pulls the button-up pajama top on you, while Lena keeps a hold of you supporting your hips and shoulder so you don’t fall from her lap. Next are your jeans, you let yourself fall backwards into Lena and she just chuckles and holds you close so you don’t slide down to the floor while Alex works on removing your jeans and putting the pajama short on you. Once you are  in your pajama set, Alex smiles at you and helps you try to lay in the couch, but once again you refuse and you move sideways on Lena’s lap so you face is nuzzled on her upper chest and sitting on her lap with your legs in the couch. Alex is about to try and make you move, but Lena just holds up her hand: “Its fine Alex, she is not heavy I can hold her and once she is asleep, we can move her to the couch or switch turns, because I think someone is  going to be very clingy for the next couple of days.”-  She says while looking down at you and giving you a soft smile.

Alex sighs but knows what you are saying its true, when you don’t feel good you turn into a koala bear and refuse to let go from your sisters or Lena’s arms. But you’ve been like this since you were little,       and your sisters love to provide any comfort you need. And right now, you want to be cuddled and sleep. So, Alex gives you a nudge and brings a small pill to your lips and hold a glass of water so you can swallow the medication. Alex: “Good job baby, now close your eyes and rest for a bit.”  

You let you head fall back into Lena and close your eyes mumbling something about corn dogs being soft. Alex smiles down at you while giving Lena the cool towel so she can press it down to your cheek and walks to the kitchen with the tray and to  figure out diner for Kara, Lena and herself and something soft and easy to drink for you. You won’t be able to eat anything solid for a few days, so that’s going to be a challenge. You love food as much as your alien sister. You don’t really like bland food nor drinking smoothies but that’s a fight for after you wake up from your nap. To say you are going to be an unhappy and very grumpy camper it’s the understatement of the century.

Kara took the opportunity to take a quick shower and walks into the living room in sweatpants and a lose top.  She smiles when she notices that you’re almost asleep with a small smile on your face while resting on top of her girlfriend. She spots your favorite blanket next to Lena in the couch, she drapes it over you and Lena and presses a quick kiss to your forehead and a kiss to Lena. Kara sits next to the both of you while surfing for something to watch on Netflix while Alex is busy in the kitchen. Lena is watching you fall asleep and still holding the cool rag to your cheek. After few minutes you are completely passed out and a little bit of drool and blood starts to spill from your lips.

Lena: “Kara, honey can you pass me one of those clean towels on the coffee table, please? Kara notices the little bit of blood and takes the clean small white towel and tenderly cleans your lips and chin. Kara takes away the other wet towel Lena was using for your cheek and leaves the new one so Lena can put it in between her shoulder and your chin. You sleep peacefully while being hold be Lena and Kara in the couch. Alex finally returns to the living room announcing she made diner, actually she made a phone call to order take out because she didn’t feel like cooking or cleaning dishes. She brings refreshments for everyone, a glass of wine for Lena, a glass of chocolate milk for Kara and a beer for her. She also brings a sports bottle with juice and ice, the ones that have a little rubber tip so you can drink easily and can keep the liquid cold. So once you´re awake you can drink something cool and remove the taste of blood from your mouth.

Yes, the next couple of day are going to be a little hard on you, but you have your sisters and Lena to keep you comfortable and dot on you while you recover.

 Next chapter: Y/N wakes up from her nap. And so, it begins…