#comfort fanfic

[thesecondhandwoman]

Can I request a Caitlyn x fem!reader where during the final battle, reader got heavily injured like a big gash at her back or something and Caitlyn saw what happened but couldn’t do anything cause she was fighting Ambessa. In the end is all fluff, reader and Caitlyn got treated for their injuries and reader now has a big scar on her back and got a little insecure but Caitlyn kissed her back saying she’s still beautiful

BEAUTY IN SCARS

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Even with scars that remain permanent, Caitlyn’s love for you will never remain temporary. And she proves it every time she sees your discomfort.

Request: Anon 🤍

The battlefield was chaos. Smoke and fire painted the sky in hues of destruction, the acrid scent of gunpowder thick in the air. The war between Piltover and the Undercity versus Ambessa’s forces and Viktor’s creations had reached its crescendo, a desperate clash that would determine the fates of countless lives. Amidst the chaos, Caitlyn was a picture of precision. Her rifle was an extension of her body, her movements fluid and calculated as she kept her sights on the enemy. Every shot she took was deliberate, every decision measured.

But no matter how focused she was, even without that rifle no longer in her hands, her heart refused to stay calm. Her sharp blue eyes darted through the haze, searching for you.

You weren’t far, your figure darted through the rubble, weaving past explosions and gunfire to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Caitlyn had begged you to stay back, to let others fight, but you wouldn’t listen. You never did when it came to protecting people.

Her chest tightened every time she caught a glimpse of you. You weren’t a soldier, nor did you claim to be, but your courage put seasoned fighters to shame. Yet that courage terrified Caitlyn. You were too kind for this world of blood and violence, too soft-hearted to carry the weight of what this battle demanded.

Still, Caitlyn trusted you. She had to.

Her attention snapped back to her current opponent: Ambessa Medarda. The towering warlord moved with the grace of someone who had seen a hundred battles and won them all. Her spear swung with a force that made the ground tremble, and Caitlyn had no choice but to meet her head-on.

Ambessa’s blows were relentless, each one forcing Caitlyn to fight with every ounce of skill and speed she had. The stakes were high, but Caitlyn didn’t falter. She couldn’t afford to.

And then she heard it.

A scream.

Your scream.

Her heart stopped. Time seemed to slow as Caitlyn turned her head, her breath catching in her throat. Through the smoke and flames, she saw you. You were on your knees, blood staining your shirt as it spread from a deep gash across your back.

Her world tilted on its axis.

“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice breaking with desperation.

Your body collapsed before you could get another word out, slumping against the floor motionlessly as blood began to ooze from your back. Caitlyn wanted to drop everything, to run to you, to make sure you were okay. But Ambessa’s spear came down again, forcing her to dodge.

Caitlyn grunted, her eyes quickly darting back at Ambessa as she swung her spear back at her. Her movements became faster, more deliberate. She poured every ounce of her strength into the fight, her only goal to end it and reach you.

By the time the battle ended, the forces of Piltover had prevailed. Both fights from Piltover and Zaun remained, but their numbers were broken from start to finish. Caitlyn didn’t care about the victory, the cost, or even her own injuries.

She sprinted through the rubble, ignoring the ache in her muscles and the blood dripping from a gash on her forearm, or the way her eye was currently blinded, dripping with the same red substance. She found you lying still amidst the debris, your chest rising and falling faintly. Relief and panic warred within her as she dropped to her knees beside you.

“Y/N,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice trembling. “Stay with me. Please.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you looked at her with a weak smile. “Hey baby,” you rasped. “You okay?”

Caitlyn’s throat tightened. “Don’t—don’t worry about me,” she choked out, her hands hovering over your injury. “You’re the one who’s bleeding out far more than I am.”

“Mm, guess I beat you at something else yet again..” you joked faintly, your voice trembling with pain.

Caitlyn let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. “Stop talking,” she ordered, though her voice was soft. “Save your strength. I’m getting you out of here.”

Ignoring her own injuries, Caitlyn lifted you into her arms. You winced, a weak groan escaping your lips, and she shushed you gently, her voice trembling. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Every step back to the medic’s tent felt like an eternity. The adrenaline carried her forward, her arms trembling under the weight of not you, but the fear of losing you.

The days that followed were excruciating.

You had been stabilized by the medics, the wound treated as best as they could manage. But the damage was deep, and the scar it left behind was jagged and unforgiving. Caitlyn stayed by your bedside, refusing to leave even when her colleagues insisted she needed rest. She spent hours watching over you, her thoughts consumed by guilt and fear.

When you finally woke, Caitlyn was the first thing you saw. She sat slouched in a chair, her hair unkempt and her arm in a sling. Her eyes were bloodshot, but they softened the moment you met her gaze.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“Morning,” you croaked, your throat dry. Caitlyn immediately moved to help you, holding a glass of water to your lips.

“Slowly,” she murmured, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

Once you’d had your fill, she set the glass down and took your hand in hers, squeezing gently.

“You stayed,” you said softly, your voice filled with quiet gratitude.

“Of course I stayed,” Caitlyn replied, her lips twitching into a faint smile. But the guilt in her eyes was impossible to miss. “I should’ve—”

“Caitlyn,” you interrupted, squeezing her hand. “You did everything you could. Don’t blame yourself.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded, unwilling to argue with you in your fragile state.

As the days turned to weeks, Caitlyn noticed a change in you. You were quieter, more withdrawn. You avoided mirrors and hesitated whenever she offered to help you change or clean your wound.

One evening, Caitlyn found you standing in front of a mirror, your shirt discarded as you stared at your reflection. The scar across your back was stark, a jagged reminder of what you had endured.

You flinched when you saw Caitlyn in the reflection, hastily pulling your shirt back on. “I didn’t hear you come in,” you mumbled.

Caitlyn stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered.

Caitlyn gently took your hands in hers, pulling you close. “Please don’t lie to me,” she said softly. “You don’t have to face this type of discomfort alone.”

Your lips trembled. “It’s just the scar, Caitlyn. It’s ugly, and every time I see it, I don’t feel like myself.”

Caitlyn’s heart ached at your words. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Y/N, that scar is a testament to your bravery. It’s proof that you stood up for what you believed in, even when it cost you.”

You shook your head, the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. “I just, I don’t know how to feel normal again.”

Caitlyn’s gaze softened, and she leaned down, her forehead resting against yours. “You are more than normal. You’re extraordinary.”

She gently lifted your shirt, her fingers tracing the scar with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. “This scar doesn’t make you any less beautiful. If anything, it makes me love you even more.”

She leaned in a little, her lips lightly parting above your scar, ghosting the sensitive skin. “May I?” She asked softly.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, watching from the mirror as Caitlyn pressed her lips to the scar, her kiss lingering like a promise. “You’re breathtaking,” she murmured. “And no scar will ever make me think different.”

[ashlynlovestlou]

Hii! I love your work sm. I was wonder if you can do a fluffy fic (Abby x Reader) were Abby takes care of drunk reader after she drank to much at a part and threw up, can’t wait to keep reading your fics, take your time and thank youuu 💗💗

of course i can ;) ty for the compliment.

cw: mention of vomit without explicit detail (for my ematophobic queens) , abby x reader , fluff without smut , reader shakes after throwing up (i do that so i added it, but idk if anyone else does this)

masterlist

you were already tipsy when you arrived at the party, having pregamed with strawberry buzz balls. then, when you actually went to the party, it was drink after drink after drink. at some point during the night, you couldn't remember when, abby had snatched your drink out of your hand, promptly pouring water down your throat.

then she hauled you into a taxi with her, and you both went home. which is how you ended up sitting on the bathroom counter, a trash can in your lap as abby holds your hair back. she's rubbing your back with her big palm, making big circles over your shirt.

"you done?" she asks you softly, moving your hair back and holding it with one hand. with one last hurl, you'd gotten it out of your system. and poor you, abby couldn't help but jut out her bottom lip when you started shaking.

she dampens a rag with warm water in the sink before handing you a piece of gum to rid you of the bitter taste the stomach acid left in your mouth. she wipes your face clean, retreating to your room to fetch you a fresh pair of clothes. she comes back momentarily, obviously helping you change out of your puke-covered clothes. you thank her sleepily as she brushes your hair, kissing your forehead before carrying you to bed and tucking you in.

she leaves the trashcan with a clean bag next to your bedside in case you get sick again, along with a water bottle for when you wake up. she lays with you and cuddles you until your tremors subside and you finally fall asleep.

[yandereaffections]

Yandere Wally is darling with his Sick Wife S/O. You can decide if it's a fatal illness or a normal illness like the flu or something.

Wally is rather clueless when it comes to sicknesses of any kind, he'll kneel at your bedside staring over you with a look of concern. Sweat on your forehead, your breathing being more labored than the previous night has him in quite a panic. He's rarely ever caught an illness before but thankfully you two aren't completely helpless.

The older members of the neighborhood have taken care of Wally before and certainly, despite your puppets protectiveness over his darling in this frightening situation, will guide you through any type of sickness as well. The whole community basically surrounds your bed after he reaches out for assistance. Wally managing to throw himself over Barnaby's shoulder to watch and take mental notes of what liquids and items they give to cure his darling before Julie makes a good point to give you space and room to breath

Wally however doesn't particularly listen to that last bit, in fact he's snuggled up to you in bed, telling you half hearted jokes hoping that laughter is indeed the best medicine.

Your puppet of man isn't exactly the best at easing you to health but you surely never felt lonely any step of the way, Wally was nuzzled up to you ready to provide anything requested of him, even Home was squeaking with concern every so often, running the bath water till it turned warm for you to sink into, decongest and relax into. Best believe it'll basically be a celebration once this flu of yours subsides.

[icycoldninja]

Are you writing things right now or are you still on break to catch up with your other stuff? If not could you write a Sephiroth where he comforts the reader as she is on her period? (If not comfortable I understand ^^)

Oh, I'm writing still. Glad to see a Sephiroth request among all the DMC related stuff! Enjoy!

Period pains (Sephiroth x Fem!Reader)

Sephiroth sighed as he beheld your groaning form that was curled up on the couch with your arms wrapped around your abdomen and entire body shivering under a thick blanket.

"What is the matter with you?" He asked, nonchalantly. You'll have to pardon his bluntness, he hasn't interacted with many women aside from yourself and his mother, and his mother was only a head. He'd only ever heard about periods from whispered conversations between his female coworkers at Shinra, but had never seen one in person before.

Now he had his chance to see what a menstrual cycle does to a wonan, and he had no idea what to do.

"Y/N, I asked you a question. What is the matter with you?"

"It hurts," You whined, crunching your eyes shut as another painful cramp flared up in your stomach.

"What does?" Sephiroth questioned, folding his arms.

"My stomach," You complained, grabbing at the blanket and drawing it tighter around yourself.

"Are you ill? Stomach virus, perhaps?"

"No," You responded, shaking your head. "It's my period cramps. They're really painful this month."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Though the words sounded harsh, the tone in which he spoke them conveyed the true meaning of his sentence: that he wanted to help you.

"Get me some Ibuprofen please?" You asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Very well," The long haired man acceded, turning and disappearing into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a bottle of painkillers as well as a glass of water. "Here," He said, thrusting the items into your face.

You thanked him and swallowed a pill and water before returning to your fetal position on the couch. Sephiroth watched you shiver and sigh for a few moments before letting out a great, long, exhale and sitting down next to you, lifting your head into his lap.

"What are you doing, Seph?" You inquired, appreciating the attention but confused as to why he was giving it to you.

"My little fluffpuff should never have to suffer," Sephiroth replied, a tinge of lauguter in his voice. "I will stay here with you until the pain passes. Now hush, sleep if you wish."

Letting out a little grumble of both agreement and contentment, you shut your eyes and allowed your mind to drift into sweet nothingness, your painful cramps already fading away.

[sh1gglypuff]

Why Do You Cry?

A short Kenma Kozume x Reader dedicated to every person with a strained relationship with their father for this Father’s Day

Caution, under cut: Depictions of strained relationship with father, depictions of guilt, depictions of trauma

˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

“Happy Father’s Day to my best friend”

“Happy Father’s Day to the best dad in the world”

You held your phone tightly in your hand as you scrolled through your friends instagram stories. Why? Why did this day have to exist? You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream and cry and throw your phone across the room.

Kenma was out with his father today, having a lunch with just him. That made you feel even worse. You loved your boyfriend with everything in your heart, you were forever grateful that he had good relationships with both of his parents. You only wanted to see him be cared for. That didn’t stop you from being jealous.

You laid yourself further into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter to your body. You close your eyes and imagined getting a hug. A long and warm hug.

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to have had grown up with a dad. You have a father, but not a dad. You wished that you had had that father figure in your life that wiped your tears, that supported you, that didn’t want you to be different, that loved you unconditionally. You closed your eyes tightly.

You open your eyes as you hear the door begin to open.

“I’m home!” Kenma announces. He sees you lying on the couch. You pull the blanket up over your eyes quickly. He crouched next to you, his face inches from yours with the blanket acting as a barrier. “Did you call your dad?” he asks, moving to pull the blanket down to see your face. Your grip remains tight as you shake your head.

Kenma understands, of course he understands. He knows you don’t have a relationship with your dad. He knows this day is hard. “Hey…” he starts. He goes to pull the blanket down and you let him. Your eyes are filled with tears, casting a glass over your eyes as he stares. “Baby…”

You cry, you cry as Kenma pulls you into his chest and strokes your hair. You felt guilty. You felt guilty for not calling your dad. You felt guilty for not having a relationship with your dad when some people’s father’s weren’t even around. Your dad had been there. Not emotionally but he was there. Didn’t that count for something?

You cried as Kenma pulls you up to sit on the couch with you. “Shhh…” he says softly into your hair. “It’s okay baby…” he whispers.

“This is the worst holiday,” you mutter into Kenma’s neck. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair…”

Your hot tears hit Kenma’s skin and his heart aches. “It isn’t fair. You deserve love. You deserve love in the way you wish to receive it. Love without any conditions.” You cry…and cry…and cry. He holds you, whispers words of affirmation and love into your ear.

Kenma holds you until your crying subsides. Kenma was always so gentle with you. “It’s okay to cry…” he reassures you.

The teenager in you hurts. The teenager in you needed to be told this desperately. The child in you is smiling warmly. Everything is so different from when you were young. You eventually stop crying, holding Kenma close to you.

“Do you want me to make you dinner tonight?” Kenma asks you. You nod against his neck. “Just know, I love you unconditionally always. You don’t need to feel guilty for growing up. You don’t need to feel guilty for cutting off your dad. You don’t owe anyone anything. It’s okay. It truly is okay.”

You hold him closer before letting go. You nod towards him, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 9

Part (9) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Tension. Some big emotions. Mild cursing. Also some legit fluff

WC: 3,257

It’s easy to believe that children are resilient, that once physical wounds heal, we might pretend no further damage remains. The horrors they can adapt to, the things they can survive, it’s just as incredible as it is heartbreaking. But there’s a very big difference between surviving and thriving, and that youth that offers such ‘resilience,’ in truth, merely masks scars far deeper than we’d like to admit.

Sometimes those scars are loud; evident in bursts of rage far more violent than normal tantrums. Something they are quiet. Sometimes those scars hide until the child is grown; until they can’t be dismissed beneath the cover of youth despite never having learned how to cope with the terrors veiled in shadows only they can see, and if those around them plead ignorance to the cause of those terrors, they leave wounds that may never heal.

“Look at that! You must be a Jedi!” I exclaimed with wonder at the unblemished skin of legs once covered with tiny scrapes and burns. The girl shook her head so quickly that her hair, now hanging loose to her shoulders in puffy curls, bounced against cheeks bunched into a wide grin.

“Yup, she definitely has some kind of secret healing power.” Echo chimed, and she shook her head even more emphatically, shoulders shaking with nearly silent giggles.

Crosshair was out on patrol with Wrecker providing what cover he could from the ramp of the Marauder, his leg still preventing him from moving much. Tech still hadn’t stirred since his brief moment of near-lucidity, and Hunter snored softly from the co-pilot’s seat where, not five minutes prior, he’d denied the obvious exhaustion Echo and I had silently agreed against commenting on.

I’d spent another twenty minutes coating his battered form with bacta, fingers carefully guiding the blue gel across dark bruises and skin split beneath cruel strikes. It had felt… intimate… the way I kneeled between his legs to tend his wounds, dimmed lights soft enough to hide my blush from anyone but him as we both carefully avoided the other’s gaze, and I couldn’t help but remember the quiet moment just before coming out of hyperspace above that feral planet where I’d so nearly died to the locals' poisonous arrows. It felt like so long ago… but the way he’d held me, arm locking around my waist in a silent plea to stay as he'd laid nearly bare atop my bed, skin still glistening with oils and body blissfully limp in the aftermath of my touch… The memory of it still sent my heart racing.

He’d declined my offer to help him into a fresh set of blacks, and I tried not to argue as he bit back a wince from how the act of dragging the sleek fabric down his powerful form tortured already abused flesh, instead turning my attention absently toward Tech if only to grant myself a moment's reprieve from the heaviness lingering on air rife with shame and want and denial. There was no place for those feelings here. Not anymore.

“I bet she haS other hidden powers, too.” I continued, heart alight at the beaming smile on her innocent face.

“Yeah? Think she’s hiding a lightsaber somewhere?” Echo asked suspiciously, making the girl’s eyes dart to him with an excitement poorly veiled beneath mock nervousness.

“Only one way to find out.” I replied, bringing my hands up as of I were about to snatch her. A squeal burst from her lips as she leapt from the chair and took off down the small room, gangly limbs flailing with that precious, youthful clumsiness as she raced to climb the first few rungs of the ladder before I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me with a victorious laugh. My entire body warmed at the look on Echo’s face as I turned back to him, giggling child locked to my chest. There was no trace of tension or dread or regret in eyes so often weighted beneath far too much guilt. Instead, his lips just hinted at a soft smile, stance loose where he’d lazily risen from his seat.

“Well?” he pressed, making a show of crossing his arms over his chest. I let my hands dance over ticklish skin under the guise of patting the girl down while carrying her.

“I'm afraid she's too clever for me.” I lamented. “Wherever she's stashed it, I fear we’ll never find it.” He let out a quiet chuckle as the girl paused her thrashing just long enough to stick her tongue out at him, his hands reaching up to fondly ruffle her hair.

“Alright, little jetii, let's get out of here before your giggles wake that guy up.” He nodded back toward Hunter, even breaths still enunciated with the faintest rumble. She nodded and readily leapt down from my arms before darting back to the ladder, not waiting for us to join her as she scrambled up the worn metal once more.

“You'd think she hadn’t just been held prisoner in a kriffing black site…” Echo murmured, that earlier warmth lost beneath a deep worry.

“It’s easier to pretend to be happy than it is to let yourself be scared.” I whispered back.

“Those feelings aren't going to just go away.” I looked back at him with a quiet understanding, wondering how desperately he’d tried to ignore his own fears, how violently they still haunted him.

“No,” I agreed softly, “they don't… but she'll have her entire life to deal with what happened. And, hopefully, she'll be surrounded with people who love her to help her through it.” He glanced toward me, eyes resting on mine for a long, silent moment before something clattered loudly overhead followed by a hissed curse.

“Crosshair's back.” I couldn't quite hide the humor in my voice as we both started toward sound.

-

“They've got the planet on lockdown.” Echo reported. “Which means the Senator is still here, but it also means it's going to be a lot harder for us to get out."

“It also means they'll have him hidden somewhere even more heavily guarded than the last place.” Came the grumbled reply.

Crosshair and Wrecker stood close to the arc as they spoke in hushed voices while the girl kneeled atop Hunter’s cot with Lula dancing between her small hands, some foreign tune humming softly through pursed lips.

I wanted to help. Maker, how I wanted to pluck the correct answer from the ether that we might hurry and focus on our own escape from this tortured world… but this: plotting and strategizing, accounting for all known factors and preparing for inevitable surprises… this was beyond me.

“I anticipate his position will be made known shortly.” Tech stated from behind me. My attention instantly snapped toward him.

“Tech! You shouldn't be up yet!” I scolded, already snatching my datapad with a mumbled, “The hell… None of my alerts went off…”

“I disabled them.” He answered nonchalantly, and offered no hint of chagrin at the glare I shot him. “I’d already reviewed my vitals. There were no signs of abnormalities, thus no reason to delay my return.”

“Tech…” I sighed, making no attempt to hide my frustration even as his brothers smirked at us.

“I am…” his voice quieted, and I couldn’t help but mirror that quiet as I looked at him, as I noted the odd stiffness in his jaw beneath eyes narrowed in an attempt to gather his thoughts, “impressed that you were able to repair the damage to my arm. I anticipated waking to find it gone… Thank you.” My own jaw tensed briefly at the knowledge of just how close he'd come to exactly that, and I gave a small nod.

“Then we would'a had to get you somethin’ like what Echo's got!” Wrecker chuckled as he said it, but his voice was still oddly subdued.

“While I admit to a certain degree of curiosity toward being able to connect directly to a network relay, I think I'd prefer to keep my natural appendages.” Tech replied dryly, but then he glanced toward Echo with a subtle, contrite frown.

“Yeah. Me too.” Echo grumbled, but offered his brother a small smirk before turning the conversation back toward the mission.

I let out a short breath before finally allowing myself to wander away from the conversation, attention turning back toward the girl, who's earlier glee had finally begun to dwindle. Lips draw  into a gentle smile, I sat softly atop Hunter's bed with her.

“Not much fun all by yourself, huh?” I kept my voice quiet, and my heart broke at the way her lips bunched, jaw grinding as she let her hands drop heavily to the now wrinkled bedding. For just a moment, she released the toy, arms raising as her fingers began to move with some half-hearted intent before catching herself and going still once more, but that was enough. I recognized that halted gesture.

“You know,” I whispered, as though I was about to share a secret, “when things are really scary, and we have to be really quiet, we use our hands to talk to each other.” Her eyes flashed up to mine though she kept her head tucked to her chest, reserved interest poorly stifled beneath a dejected frown.

“Watch.” I murmured before turning back to the others. Cross met my eyes and paused at the beseeching expression on my face. I smiled gratefully as I waved a quick question.

Number of nearby hostile? His brows pulled together, confused, but he hesitated only a moment before replying.

All clear.

My attention darted back to the girl at the sound of her sharp gasp. With Lula tucked beneath her arm, she jumped from the bed and raced across the room to the others, and I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly I'd been forgotten.

It was Tech she ran to, though her gaze kept darting between the others as well, and I cringed slightly as how forcefully she threw herself into his side. He froze mid-word, attention instantly dropping to the girl. She seemed to struggle with keeping herself pressed tightly against him while still freeing her hands enough to sign something, and he automatically lowered himself to a knee to better address her.

“Yes, I can understand you.” He said it so thoughtlessly, as though it were almost silly to assume otherwise, but the way that girl’s face lit up left me tightening my jaw to keep my breath steady. Her hands became a blur of movement, but he didn't hesitate in responding.

“Standard soldiers have a very limited and specialized set of signals for instances when verbal communication could prove dangerous, but I am quite well versed in the more standardized sign language you appear to be using.” He answered. I understood only a few snips of the flurry of signs that followed. Scared. Home. Dad. Help. Mean. Tech, however, nodded knowingly.

“I assure you, from what you've said, your father's kidnapping was in no way a consequence of your actions, and my squad and I will do whatever is needed to free him as well.” The motion for “punch" was unmistakable, and even Tech let out a small huff of laughter.

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I do not believe it would be wise for you to accompany us… No, droids would be more likely to use you as a hostage than they would be to show you any leniency due to your being “small,” thus eliminating any strategic advantage having an additional person keeping watch might grant.” Crosshair rolled his eyes at Tech's reply, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

There was something wonderfully familiar about this; the hum of their voices weaving into a gentle chorus I’d heard a thousand times yet would never bore of. I don’t know when I shifted atop Hunter’s bed to let my back rest against the sidewall, when my head gradually fell toward my shoulder as the day’s exhaustion finally made itself known once more, but I didn’t doubt that it was their voices that lulled me into a gentle sleep.

-

“Hey… come on, mesh’la… need to wake up.”

A grumble caught in my throat, shoulders tensing against the ache of such an unforgiving position.

“Don’t yell at me – we all tried to convince you to lay down.” The air of annoyance twisting those words was ruined beneath the smile I could hear woven through that low rasp.

“…liar.” A quiet huff of laughter was his only retort before letting his hand whisper over my shin, fingers tightening for barely a breath before the touch was gone.

“Hunter’s waiting to go over the plan.” He continued. I begrudgingly forced my eyes open just in time to watch him take a small step back, arms already adorned in armor folding across his chest, fond smirk still playing with thin lips. “Not that it’s much of a ��plan’.” He added with that familiar façade of disdain.

“That’s our specialty.” I replied, words taut as I curled my arms over my head, back arching in a vain attempt to stretch out the lingering stiffness before pushing myself toward the edge of the narrow cot. He merely hummed in response, the quiet sound infused with every ounce of resignation he felt toward that fact, and I let myself laugh softly at the small scowl it drew to his face.

Hunter's gaze flicked only briefly toward me as we arrived in the cabin. The ramp was still open, inviting the midnight air to bring a pleasant chill into the normally stuffy room. We were on the very outskirts of the forest, where the treeline ended so abruptly, the prairie that followed looked oddly intentional. Wisps of light occasionally danced between the distant strands of tall grass, tiny bursts of yellows and gold gleaming brilliantly for mere moments before fading back into a gentle darkness.

I wondered if Tech had already spoken on the seemingly magic chemical reaction granting the tiny insects that burst of luminescence. I wondered if he and Hunter had needed to corral the small girl to keep her from racing off to see them up close, and I wondered if Crosshair could still see smoke from the havoc wrought upon that wretched base, if the trees still smoldered and the air still burned with the scent of ozone from electrical fires. Probably not. By now, the site had likely already been cleared and returned to an unnatural illusion of feral wilderness, a realization that left my skin crawling with the knowledge of what nightmares that artificial wilderness had concealed.

“Echo and Tech were able to pinpoint the ship they evacuated the Senator on and traced it to a transfer station three klicks outside the city.” Hunter started, hip cocking as he glanced over the screen of his datapad.

“Given their obvious failure to conceal that fact, they’re clearly attempting to use the Senator to lure us in a trap.” Tech added.

“And we’re going to take advantage of that.” Hunter continued, and I had to pointedly keep myself from sighing at his haughty smirk. “Echo, Wrecker: you two are heading straight for the transport. Rig as much of their docks up with explosives as you can. Cross – I want you on the north end to start: take out the power transformer, then find a place to whole up near the Marauder. Provide cover fire where you can, but be ready to bring the Marauder in for a pickup as soon as the Senator is secured.” Tech’s fingers tapped impatiently at his thigh as Hunter spoke, and took the first opportunity he could to cut in.

“That transformer is only a decoy. The real one is hidden underground.” He explained quickly. “There’s likely to be a brief interruption of power intended solely to sell the deception before the real generator kicks back in.”

“That’ll give Tech and I an opportunity to grab one of their smaller ships as a distraction while they go on the defen-”

“Wait.” I said firmly, brows furrowing as I met Hunter’s confused gaze. He went perfectly still, clearly shocked to be interrupted. “You can’t go running around a Separatist base, right now, Hunter. It’s bad enough the others are going, but you’re barely standing.” He didn’t answer for a moment, as though expecting that heavy silence to be enough for me to back down, but my gaze didn’t falter.

“I’ll be fine, Doc. If everything goes according to plan, we should be in and out in-”

“No.” I said, voice granting no room for argument, and a flare of frustration darkened eyes still swollen with heavy bruising as he turned his full attention to me. “You want me to list off all the reasons you should still be in bed? The broken ribs, internal bleeding that’s only barely patched, probably a mild concussion at best; all of which could be exasperated with even light activity.”

“Your concerns are noted, but these are extenuating circumstances, and we don’t have the luxury of being overly cautious.” My own frustration turned nearly violent at his dismissive retort, shoulders drawing back as I glared up at him, pointedly ignoring the way Crosshair was fighting back a smirk.

“You can complain all you want about me being overly cautious from the damn cockpit of the Marauder.” I retorted, nearly snarling at him.

“This isn’t up for discussion, Doc. I’m not-”

“You’re right: this isn’t a discussion.” I interrupted sharply. “As squad medic, I have the final say on this. Not you.” Crosshair looped his arms over his chest, hip cocking slightly with an amusement he no longer tried to hide while the others stood frozen, stances rigid as they watched in tense silence as Hunter stared me down. I could see the enraged sense of betrayal stealing over him, heard it in the heaviness of his carefully controlled breaths, and I hated the guilt that coiled through my chest. But I didn’t back down. The risk was too great.

“I’m pulling rank, Hunter.” I stated, voice painfully even, the faintest hint of an apology quieting the almost whispered words. “I’ll go with Wrecker – I’ve picked up enough of his tips here and there to help set the charges, and Echo can help Tech nab a decoy ship.” That silence grew almost debilitating, and I felt the way my heart raced beneath the weight of this moment. Hunter’s reaction meant more than just this mission. If he refused, if he ignored my orders now… that would illustrate more than just a lack of respect for me as a medic. It would call into question my very place on this squad and my ability to be their medic…

Right hand curling into a tight fist, Hunter’s lips just hinted at a scowl before those infuriated eyes finally turned away from me, shoulders drawn taut as he stormed around us and vanished into the fore of the ship without a word. I didn’t watch him go, though his brothers showed no such restraint, staring in shock as their Sargeant disappeared down the stairs to the cockpit.

It was Echo that finally broke the silence.

“Wrecker, make sure Doc has what she needs to help you set the charges.” Wrecker’s attention shifted to the arc with a fresh note of surprise before coming back to himself.

“Yeah… right…” He muttered, hesitating for just a moment more before glancing toward me and then starting toward the supply room.

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[hannah-lou]

🌕my sweet echo🌕

Late at night, you sit in Noa's nest, plaiting three pieces of thread together to make a bracelet, the calming sound of crickets chirping, and the faint crackling of fires creating a relaxing ambience.

You hear Noa moving closer to you with curiosity, little sniffles and grunts coming from him, he leans in, watching your hands.

"What... are you doing?" He asks softly.

"Just making a bracelet" you say and unknowingly lean against him.

Moving behind you and wrapping one of his arms slowly around your waist, he causes you to stop what you're doing. Dropping the bracelet beside you as you feel the warmth of his body beginning to cradle you. One of your hands rests on his forearm and you start twirling his fur with your fingers. Feeling your heart skip a beat as he shifts closer, the fur on his chest brushing against the bare skin on your shoulder.

He looks down and sighs "your hands... they’re so small"

He doesn't give you any time to reply before picking up your other hand and holding it in his. He puts one finger under your chin and tilts your head back to look at him, and he locks his emerald eyes with yours.

Pressing his chest against you, a smirk curls his lips whilst his eyes remain locked. Giving your forehead a soft kiss and humming with satisfaction as he leans down to your ear.

Nuzzling into your hair as the tender whispered words escape his lips. "My sweet... little echo"

[darling--angst]

i’d like to request space song with dazai (specifically pm!dazai) hurt/comfort scenario,, reader comforting dazai during a breakdown or smth :(

Space Song

Pairing: Pm! Dazai x Fem! Reader(platonic)/Mori x 27! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: Long winded commas, Stormbringer spoilers/mentions, Dark Era mentions, Oda's death, mentions of war, mentions of Yosano's backstory, Mori being a bitch, slight yandere Mori mentions, kinda went off topic..

Synopsis: Dazai finally found someone who saw him for who he was and when his dearest friend died, he finds himself finding comfort in her embrace like a child being comforted by his mother.

A/n: Hey.. Please state if you want it to be romantic/platonic.. since you didn't say which one you want, I'll do the latter. Reader is implied to be 27 while Mori is 33. Reader is like a mother to Dazai. I kinda wrote this without thinking so I am so sorry.

Event // Pm. Masterlist // M.Masterlist

Dazai Osamu is the feared Demon Prodigy, the youngest underboss in the history of Port Mafia, the boss' right hand man, a genius; but deep down he was a child. A child misguided to do the wrong deeds, a lonely child used as a tool by others, a child who got affiliated with a mafioso at the age of fourteen, after an attempt in suicide. He was suicidal, a child at his age should be thinking of academics instead of how to end a war with another organization with the least casualties for his own gain. He could not see the purpose in living. Nobody saw him for who he was, it was never Osamu Dazai. Everything changed when he was fifteen, he met someone who gave him a reason to live for, someone who didn't judge him.

"sir, the boss has called you to his office" A black car stopped just beside of where he stood in the street.

"A mailman huh. I guess it really is important for Mori-san" he sighed, entering the back door of the car. It has almost been a year after Mori made him his 'witness' and succeeded as the Port Mafia boss.

The drive was silent, nobody said a word. The mailman was focused on driving and Dazai was looking out the window, observing people and their daily activities.

"We're here" The mailman said before the car stopped.

"mhm" He muttered opening and closing the door shut, and he drove away.

He was very familiar with the building. The five building-like-towers in the heart of Yokohama, the middle one being the tallest of all; where the Port Mafia boss, Mori Ogai lies. He reaches the highest floor and was eventually greeted by the guards, as he arrived he saw the boss and an unfamiliar woman sitting on the boss' desk, reading a document.

"Boss" He cleared his voice making his presence clear as the both of them talked.

"ah.. Dazai-kun" Mori shifted his attention from the woman to him.

"Sit down please" He offered while Dazai walked over to the small chair in the middle of the room. Mori made his his way towards another chair and sat down across him. She took documents on top of the desk after grabbing a brown, vintage briefcase. Making her way towards the door, Mori began explaining to Dazai. The only sound that feel the room was her heels clacking to the tiled floor until Mori finally spoke up.

"As you know Dazai-kun, the previous boss has returned.. based on the information you acquired from investigating Subarachi(?) city, it may have a lead on this 'Arahibaki' and by coincidence it seems that the Sheep King is looking for the so called God of Destruction" He explained.

"and?" He replied, clearly uninterested.

"He's suggesting that you work with Nakahara Chūya, if possible make him join the Mafia" She walked passed them, handing Dazai the documents she read earlier.

"Mhm, and you are?" Dazai asked before reading the documents. She continued to walk towards the door before Mori stopped her by ordering the guards from behind the door.

"Stay. (name)-sama" He smiled while she stopped in her tracks after hearing a pair of guards ruffle through the door.

"Haii.. what do you want now?" She let out a long, exasperated sigh. Ignoring her question, he explained to Dazai who she was.

"Dazai-kun, this is (name)-sama. She was strategist from the Great War" Sighing, she flopped down on a spare chair after he continued to explain about her to the young boy.

"So she knows about you killing the previous boss then?" He asked before glancing at her then to him.

"Yes. Now let's discuss this whole thing and why am I part of this?" She sat up, sending a glare at Mori.

"It was just as I explained earlier. The previous boss returned, Dazai-kun saw him personally so now that we have the Sheep King in our capture, we'll use that to our advantage by making him join the mafia." He gave both of them a closed-eye smile, Dazai put down the document and she gave him an annoyed look.

"That won't work" Both of them sighed in unison.

"Hm?"

"Chūya is too loyal to the Sheep. It's already given after all if he didn't, he would've left them to die long ago. After realizing his own potential, he would join an organization with a high pay; if he didn't have deep ties with them..—" She explained, sitting back down while Dazai listened to her.

"The only reason for him to join us for the Sheep's safety" He followed after hearing her explain.

"—It's not guaranteed he'll be loyal. If he joins the organization for their safety alone, there's a high chance he will destroy the mafia from the inside and save his little herd"

"Wait are you suggesting-?" Dazai's eyes widened realizing what she means.

"Yes.. We have to make them suspicious of him. If they notice they have been too dependent on him, they'll do any means to overthrow him and that's where we go in." She moved the white bishop on the chess board creating an opening for the rook, and continuing the abandoned game.

"After their betrayal, the Mafia comes in and will pretend to wipe out the Sheep. Chūya, after being betrayed will stay to protect them; so he will do a bargain to save them" Dazai moved the black knight, eating the bishop and now he was in advantage in terms of pieces.

"He'll then join the mafia in terms of the bargain" She then proceeded to move her rook from across the board, blocking the king's only path to escape, almost delivering a checkmate until Dazai's queen ate it to make the game a bit longer, but not to escape the inevitable fate.

"however-" Mori sighed but was cut off by her.

"since the main priority is to make sure the previous boss doesn't return so his supporters won't start a revolution.. you have to fix that first or else you'll get tortured, then executed" She glances at Mori before moving her rook to eat Dazai's queen, delivering a back-rank checkmate. Mori was in awe after watching his protegee and ex-lover play chess in sync, as if they were reading each other's minds.

"But won't you get executed too, (name)-san? I mean you knew of how the boss'really died, yet you didn't say anything.. making you, another accomplice" Dazai leaned into his chair, analyzing how he lost.

"I'm not part of the Mafia—" She nonchalantly responded.

"Yet." Mori's voice was full of demands.

"..tch. As I said, no." She stood up from her chair, giving Dazai a small smile before turning back to the door.

"Why?" This time he was more pushy for some reason.

"It's none of your business" She hissed before opening the door and leaving.

"Well isn't she beautiful.." He muttered under his breath while Dazai sat there with a fed up look on his face.

That was their first encounter. The second one was after both of them planned a strategy to defeat Verlaine. Even if Dazai didn't have any encounters with her that didn't involve work, he grew close to her. During their plannings, he was childish but she didn't mind. He felt comfortable with her, as if he could actually show his true self. She didn't try to exploit his intelligence, as she has one of her own, she tried to understand his view of the world, she sees through his emotions but she never used it to take advantage of him.

When she joined the mafia, her position was a strategist, even if she didn't engage in missions, she was valued by the Mafia because she was the one to pull the strings and by she was liked Mori personally. He had an interest in her that Dazai seemed to distinguish as love, one that he thought Mori was not capable off. All those who tried to assassinate her failed, because of Mori's interference and his predictions. Dazai didn't want her to die, not because of how important she was in the organization but because of his own personal reasons. He then became an executive at eighteen and met quite a few people, Sakunosuke Oda and Sakaguchi Ango, whom he calls his friends. Dazai finds himself looking for her again and again, wanting to see her, because of him, Oda, Ango and her became acquainted..

Oda and (name) was on a small talking about the orphans until Ango interrupted.

"I feel like I'm quite the third wheel here you know?"

"My, my.. I never knew you were sad that you were left out Ango-kun" She teased.

"Tch. I never knew you liked kids (name)-san" He tried to switch the topic.

"I feel neutral about them—I don't dislike them nor do I like them... I once met a child in the war, she was there as a nurse since her ability allowed her to heal soldiers... such a precious child—if I remember correctly, her name was Yosano" She faintly smiled at the memory.

"You took part in the war.?" Oda fiddled with his fingers.

"Mhm.. as a strategist..." She responded. Both of them stopped in their tracks before she turned around to face them.

"If she was in the healing section and you were a strategist, how did you meet her?" Ango asked, she halted and her eyes widened a bit before laying her head low.

"My ex-lover was a doctor, he was in charge of the nurses in the war including her. I ended our relationship because of how he treated that little girl and some other reasons... in the end, she was left traumatized.. I don't know what happened to her after it was over" She quietly muttered, remembering the bitter memories of the war.

"I see.. I'm sorry for asking-" He tried to apologize but was cut off but a faint voice screaming her name.

"Y/n-san!"

" hmm.? Dazai-" before she could say anything else, his body crashed with hers as he hugged her.

"I'm quite hurt that you didn't invite me you know!" He pouted before looking at both of them.

"Anyway! Why did you three look so glum-" He tried asking but he was cut off by his phone ringing.

"Oh. It's him. Oii slug what do you want?"

"What do you mean what do I want!? You suicidal waste of bandages! We have a mission remember?!" Chūya screamed through his phone while Dazai listened with a nonchalant expression.

"Yea, yea"

"YOU'RE PROBABLY WITH THAT STUPID STRATEGIST AND YOUR EQUALLY STUPID FRIENDS!" He insulted him while Dazai was quite taken aback. He gasped before he returned the screams.

"OI YOU SLUG! YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST JEALOUS THAT I HAVE FRIENDS AND A MOTHER FIGURE!!!" All of you were quite shocked but Dazai didn't even realize what he was saying.

"I DO HAVE FRIENDS! AND I HAVE ANE-SAN!"

"NO YOU DO NOT! YOU MAY HAVE A MOTHER FIGURE BUT ALL YOUR FRIENDS ARE KILLED BY YOUR HOELESS BROTHER!" He screamed, ending the call before Chūya could repriocate what he said and kill him.

"sorry about that, slug was being extra annoying" he smiled but all of them were still processing what he said earlier

"Dazai.. do you see me as a mother figure.?" She asked, coughing. Her words didn't seem to process in his mind for a second or two.

"Of course not! I only said that to piss him off!" He tried explaining, even though his lie was clearly visible; she didn't bother to inquire any further, not wanting to be nosy.

"Now let's go drink I'm thirsty!" Dazai exclaimed, heading to Lupin while they followed.

That was the last time all of them drank. She was sent away because of an organization called the Mimic appeared, Mori kept her busy for a reason she couldn't hold a grasp on. Soon, Ango betrayed the mafia and Oda died. The reason why Mori kept her busy was so she cannot interfere and warn Dazai, now the Port Mafia has a special abilities permit with the cost of everything that mattered to Dazai. She only found out the last minute, and she hates that she can't do anything about it.

After hearing Oda's last words he was about to leave the abandoned mansion until he met her running. She saw Dazai, standing infront of the ballroom door with his head hung low; when she reached him, he collapsed to the floor into her arms. His head was on the crook of her neck, and her arms was around him, hugging him, slowly patting his head as he struggled to breath.

"Shh... It's okay I'm here" Her voice trembled knowing that the kids along with Oda are dead but she could only focus on the poor child in her arms.

"He's dead... Mori-san used the Mimic to get that black envelope and he-" He explained between hiccups.

"I know" She whispered but her voice cracked.

"What did Oda say.?" She patted his back trying to comfort him but his grip tightened on her.

"He wanted me to save people.. to find a value in life" He bit his lip.

"Then go.." She continued to comfort him but he left her embrace upon hearing her words.

"What.?"

"Don't worry about me.. one day you'll find your reason in living, and you would be happy that you listened to him" She smiled at him as he slowly got up.

"Then how about you?" He tried with every bit of strength he could find to convince her to go with him. She got up too, now facing him directly in the eyes she said:

"You're still young, you would be leaving an environment you are never supposed to be in. And I.. My soul is already bounded to the mafia, if I leave with you he'd do what it takes to get me back"

"But still I-"

"Mafiosos will be here soon... Go to Chief Taneda of the Special Division of the Unusual Powers in a small cheep bar, he'll help you. Don't hesitate to turn your back, go" She quickly explained grabbing him by the shoulders with a tenses expression. His lips parted but he didn't know what to say.

"Just go, I'll meet you again" She gave him a reassuring smiled. Upon seeing her eyes, he nodded.

"Thank you.." He quietly muttered before finally leaving.

A/n: Damn that was hard and cringe.. just so you know I kinda got distracted by music while doing this I apologize... For the person who requested this you can go to the comment section and say if you want me to redo it because I'll gladly do so :)

[coriolantha]

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day���˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

[tavyliasin]

In Sickness, And An Elf - Halsin Comfort Short

Written for a dear darling who is feeling unwell, a short and sweet SFW piece of Halsin x Reader to comfort someone suffering from flu (or a similar ailment)

Short below the cut~ (Yes, the title is a pun, and yes I am proud of it~) --- ---

“My heart?” Halsin’s voice was soft, quiet, his hand already pressing to your forehead. “Too warm…” He muttered, already channeling a little magic to cool his hand. He was right, too. You could feel the fever burning in your cheeks, your head spinning every time you tried to move, your throat raw from the cough that woke you every hour. “Hal-” 

“Shhh. There is no need for you to try so hard, my love. I have no intention of going far.” His hand smoothed back the stray hair that had fallen forwards, pushing it behind your ear before cupping your cheek. The kiss on your forehead felt achingly tender. “Close your eyes, wait here.” You nodded silently, earning another brief and chaste kiss to your heated skin before his presence withdrew. The sickness was dreadful, taking its toll on your whole body with the fever, the ache, the shivers that seemed to go from your skin and deep into your bones. Still…there was some comfort to know that the druid was near. Halsin’s footsteps roused you from an uneasy sleep you hadn’t even realised had crept back in, his face a blur as you blinked away to find him kneeling beside your bedroll. “Here, let me help you.” His arm slipped behind your shoulders, his other wrapping around your chest to brace your shoulders and help you sit up. More pillows had appeared behind you than were there when you lay down, providing a place to lean back a little. Your vision cleared more with a few blinks, the worry lines in his brow far clearer now. Golden eyes traced a path across your flush skin, assessing your symptoms quickly. 

“Drink this first, my heart, it will help. Even if it does taste terrible.” The mug had a smell of fresh lemon, spiced ginger, and a few bitter herbs mixed into the brew. He chuckled softly. “I am not fond of it either, but it will work.” 

Your nose wrinkled after the first sip. “I’m not sure how torture is a cure. Or is this poison to put me out of my misery faster?” “If you are good and finish it quickly, I may consider giving you a reward.” Halsin winked, a wry smile playing across his lips. “But that means no more complaining. Come, now, all of it.” The flavour did not improve, so you decided it would be better to just hold your nose and drain the lot in a few quick gulps. You fought the urge to gag, but true to his word your chest felt eased, your throat stinging yet strangely soothed by the spiced burn of the ginger. “There, that was not so bad, was it?”

“No, it was worse.” You managed a lopsided smile as you handed the mug back to him. “See? Empty. All gone.” 

“Very good, my love.” He kissed your cheek, a distraction as he reached behind him. “Just my cheek?” You huffed with mock disappointment. “I thought you promised a reward.” “I do not think raising your temperature further is wise.” Halsin dabbed the sweat from your forehead with a cool and refreshing cloth, the slight scent of mint infused in the water it had soaked in. “We can save anything like that for when you are fully recovered.” “I hope your medicine works fast.” “You’re not the only one…” His reply was so quiet you might not have heard it, especially with your ears feeling as blocked as your nose, but you could have guessed how he felt from the way he shifted his position. “Now, your reward. Open wide.” You closed your eyes, trusting him not to feed you more poison, or medicine if that’s what it was. You were pleasantly surprised by the sweetness that hit your tongue, the slick treat melting down across your tastebuds. There was a slight sting as you swallowed, but it was warm and soothing. You should have guessed this was what he meant. “Honey?” “Yes, my love?” Halsin laughed, already pouring another trickle onto the spoon for you. “A little more, it’s good for you. Then we will see if Gale is done with the soup he has been preparing for you. Karlach has been helping with the bread to go with it, though luckily Wyll is there to ensure it does not burn. Shadowheart and Lae’zel were very insistent on gathering and hunting the fresh ingredients, too. Even Astarion offered to supervise the pot so it doesn’t boil over, though truth be told he may be picking the job that allows him to put in the least effort.” 

“You’re all going to these lengths for me? Why?” You felt a few tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn’t known them for long, and often you worried that you were bothering them with your questions or talking to them at camp. “Does it matter?” His thumb gently dried your eyes. “Let yourself be cared for this time. You have given enough of yourself to solve all of their problems, and no doubt you will continue to leap straight into the hells for any one of them.”

You tried to find the words to respond, to tell him that it was only the shared burden that kept them with you, but even in your mind that felt sour. They were putting in an effort, they were showing their care in their own ways. 

“As for me,” Halsin continued, pulling the blanket up to wrap closer around you before the chill of the night air could make you feel any worse, the energy slowly leaving you again as your eyes grew heavy. “Well, my heart, that is simple.” The whisper of his affection in your ear was barely audible, the depth of his feelings reaching you at the edge of your dreams as sleep won out once more. The druid pressed one last soft kiss to your head before standing to leave. “Rest well, my love. I hope you feel better soon.”

[todorokis-girl]

Let's talk about the caffeine addiction - Kirishima x reader

Kirishima and Y/N navigate an evening of tension and care. Despite struggling with a caffeine withdrawal headache, Y/N resists drinking coffee to preserve their breakfast date the next morning. 

Requests are OPEN!

masterlist

No one had ever really paid attention to your struggles before. You knew caffeine was an addiction, and the headache you’d had all day was definitely because of the caffeine withdrawal. But it was 7 p.m., and you couldn’t have coffee. Kirishima had planned a breakfast date for the two of you tomorrow morning, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

As you massaged your temple, Kirishima glanced over from the driver’s seat while waiting at a red light. His concerned eyes studied you, taking in the tension etched across your face.

“I have to stop at the gas station. Need anything, baby?” he asked, his voice a soothing rumble.

“No,” you replied softly, trying to muster a reassuring smile.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but didn’t press further. Once he parked at the gas station, he got out of the car without another word. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, wishing you could skip the party. But you knew he was excited about it. It was a reunion of sorts—a chance for his old class to be together again after so long. You didn’t want to dampen his excitement, even if you felt like curling up in bed instead.

The car door opened, and the cool night air rushed in. Before you knew it, a cold bottle was pressed against your cheek. Startled, you opened your eyes to see Kirishima holding a glossy bottle of iced coffee—vanilla, your favorite.

“What?” you muttered, taking the bottle from his hand. It felt cool against your fingers, and you bit your lip, hesitating.

“You’ve been nursing that headache all day. You’re the one who wanted to come to the party,” he reminded you gently, his crimson eyes filled with concern.

“I can’t. We have breakfast tomorrow, and you haven’t seen all your classmates in forever, Eiji,” you protested, your voice wavering.

“It can be breakfast for dinner. Please, drink it,” he urged, his tone sincere and caring. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch comforting.

You looked at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face. His thoughtfulness warmed your heart. You unscrewed the cap and took a tentative sip, the sweet vanilla flavor immediately soothing your headache.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft with gratitude. “You always know how to make things better.”

Kirishima grinned, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “That’s what I’m here for. Now, let’s go enjoy this party. And if you’re still not feeling great, we can leave early. Deal?”

“Deal,” you agreed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. With Kirishima by your side, you knew you could handle anything, even a caffeine withdrawal headache at a party.

[thesecondhandwoman]

you did my last ask so great I had to ask again. This time could you do a Grayson or Ambessa with a chronically ill reader. More so on the chronic pain side. Maybe they need mobile aids? Take your time, drink some water and take care of yourself

-🧚‍♂️

CHRONICALLY ILL

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Ambessa has always loved you, ever since the day you two had become so close. But once you slowly become more and more ill, you start to doubt that she would ever love such a burden.

Request: Anon 🤍

Noxus, with its towering spires and ever-burning forges, was a city of unyielding strength. It was a place where weakness was supposedly stamped out, where survival meant thriving against all odds. You had grown up in the shadow of that philosophy, and it had shaped you in ways you didn’t fully realize until your body began to betray you.

At first, it had been manageable—an ache here, a stiffness there. But as the years went on, the pain grew relentless. It wasn’t the kind of battle you could fight with a blade or conquer with brute force, and in Noxus, that was a struggle all its own.

Then there was Ambessa.

Your life as her assistant had started humbly, a position born out of necessity rather than ambition. You had worked tirelessly, managing her correspondence, organizing her campaigns, and ensuring her days flowed as seamlessly as possible. Ambessa had always been a figure larger than life—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding. But as time passed, she had seen through the masks you wore, glimpsing the pain you thought you’d hidden so well.

And instead of turning away, she stayed.

Now, as the warm glow of her private study illuminated the richly furnished room, you sat curled up in your favorite chair, a steaming cup of tea trembling slightly in your hands. Your cane rested against the chair’s arm, its polished wood worn smooth from years of use.

The pain was worse today, a deep, gnawing ache that radiated through your legs and up into your spine. Even the soft cushion beneath you felt unforgiving, and every shift of your weight sent new waves of discomfort rippling through your body. You tried to focus on the tea, on the way the steam curled into the air, but it was impossible to ignore the familiar throb of pain.

The sound of heavy boots against the stone floor made your heart jump. Ambessa entered the room with the confidence of someone who owned not just the space but the very air within it. Her gaze swept over you, sharp and assessing, and she frowned the moment her eyes met yours.

“How long have you been sitting there, little one?” Her voice was low, rich, and filled with a concern she never bothered to mask when it came to you.

You offered a tired smile, though it felt half-hearted at best. “Not too long,” you lied, knowing she wouldn’t believe you.

Ambessa crossed the room in a few long strides, her imposing presence somehow comforting rather than intimidating. She knelt before you, her strong hands resting on the arms of your chair as she studied your face.

“Do not lie to me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of command.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you carried. “A while,” you admitted. “It’s been one of those days.”

Her frown deepened, and she reached out to take the teacup from your trembling hands, setting it aside with care. Her calloused fingers found yours, enveloping them in a warmth that made your throat tighten.

“You should have called for me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you replied, looking away. “You’ve got armies to command, strategies to plan. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

Ambessa let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “And yet, here I am, worrying about you. What does that tell you?”

You didn’t answer, the guilt curling in your chest too heavy to put into words.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice softening. When you finally met her gaze, her amber eyes were filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You are not a burden, Y/N. You are not something I tolerate or endure. You are mine, and I will always care for you. Do you understand?”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded silently.

Ambessa rose smoothly to her full height, towering over you but somehow making you feel safe rather than small. She moved to sit on the armrest of your chair, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she pulled you against her side. The scent of steel and leather clung to her, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Tell me what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple.

“Just…stay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “It helps, having you here.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then here I’ll stay.”

The hours slipped by as Ambessa stayed true to her word. She didn’t so much as glance at the mountain of paperwork on her desk or the sealed missives waiting for her attention. Instead, she focused entirely on you.

When your pain became too much to sit upright, she helped you to the large, plush bed in the corner of the room. She adjusted the pillows with meticulous care, ensuring your legs were elevated just enough to ease the pressure.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her hand lingering on your knee as she knelt beside the bed.

“Getting there,” you said with a faint smile.

She nodded, standing to fetch a soft, fur-lined blanket from a nearby chair. Draping it over you, she tucked it around your sides with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who only knew her as the iron-fisted warlord of Noxus.

As you settled in, the pain began to ebb—not completely, but enough that you could breathe a little easier. Ambessa sat beside you, her hand resting on top of yours, her thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

“Tell me about the mountains again,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up her face. “Ah, the mountains. Strong, unyielding, and ancient. They remind me of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t feel very unyielding right now.”

Ambessa’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps not in this moment. But every day, you endure what would break most others. That is strength, my love. Strength I admire.”

Her words wrapped around you like a shield, deflecting the self-doubt that often lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, squeezing her hand weakly.

“Always,” she replied, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, your pain ebbed and flowed, but Ambessa remained at your side. She spoke of her travels, of the unyielding peaks of Noxus, and the people who called them home. Her voice was steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, lulling you into a fragile sense of peace.

When sleep finally claimed you, it was with the knowledge that no matter how relentless your battles became, Ambessa would always be there—your shield, your comfort, and the one person who made the fight worth it.

A/N: This is definitely not my best way of successfully fulfilling a response, but I hope it was alright! (I love requests like this)

[ashlynlovestlou]

could u maybe do abby with reader who has epilepsy?

ofc ml!! sorry this took so long :))

cw: epilepsy , mention of seizures , reader is referred to as a girl , very slight nsfw towards the end

masterlist

꩜ i've said this before, but abby is the most cautious person ever. whether it be with your condition, driving, or anything that needs caution, abby is your girl.

꩜ when you both started dating she definitely bought a book about epilepsy or read about it somewhere to educate herself on the disorder so she can take care of her girl (you)

꩜ the first time you had a seizure around her she started crying and almost called 9-1-1 because of how worried she was :( poor baby

꩜ over time she definitely got used to your seizures though and knew to keep you on your side so you wouldn't choke on your spit, she'd have a cold rag ready in case you have a fever, and she'd lay your head in her lap, petting your head until you came down from it.

꩜ when usual couples have spontaneous movie nights, you and abby would plan them 1-2 days before. abby suggested this so she could watch the movie before you to make sure it was safe and wouldn't trigger a seizure. she would go out of her way to do this for you because she loves you sm

꩜ if you ever had seizures in public she would try not to get too much attention, because she knows how embarrassed you get about having seizures in front of other people

꩜ abby wouldnt buy groceries with too much sugar, any caffeine, or alcohol, so every time you would come over she could ensure that you were safe from a seizure.

꩜ abby put off having sex with you for so long because she was too worried that something would happen and she wouldn't want to be the cause of a seizure. the first time you both got intimate, she was so slow and tender with you. but once you both got into it she went at the pace you wanted and it was a really unserious and fun.

꩜ overall, abby is the absolute best at taking care of you and always will be

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||It's okay To Rest

Just realized with all me getting accepted into school and all, caused me to stress about not disappointing my parents, relatives So it's okay to take it easy.

Usually, Alastor would see you socializing either the other people like Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk and all during your days in hell, but this time he began noticing you, becoming more and more reclined towards your room.

Your room probably was the most comforting one in the entire hotel, All the books Alastor would bring you would be piled, or decorated in the bookshelves, the fairy lights casted a warm and inviting glow to your reader's heart, you had a dressing table and next to it were satin nightgowns, shrugs lined on a rack, Alastor found you whimsical and enchanting, like he was just allowed for just a moment to see the world you saw.

Your worktable, which used to be a few scraps of paper and loose sheets now was filled with random annotations, and question marks, diaries were tossed in one corner, and then a sewing kit was tossed in the other, it was really unlike you to just toss your things around.

Alastor knew you loved to eat, the different types of cookbooks he owned and recipes he learned through radio broadcasts you would always love them, it was one of his most obvious love languages, Now Alastor brought you some well cooked dinner, lunch paired with a desert to cheer you up, but these past few months in hell he has seen you getting more exhausted, he would find you sleeping on your desk, you sometimes complained of a back pain.

Alastor thought of making you some more tapes of his voice, maybe like a little reminder for you to just rest and take care of your health, you were not a soul, you were a human, and he knew this wasn't going to get you anywhere.

Alastor had a fair idea of the things you liked, Books, Rain, Tea, but this time he had actually visited the cannibal town one of the pleasant places in hell, because it was miraculously neat, decent, and came with a lot of things like books, recipe books, candles, and were selling really nice bath items, as a surprise he brought them over for you, he wanted to run you a nice bath so you could unwind.

"My dear, all this work is not good for you, come on now I have a little surprise for you, which should lighten your mood a little." "I'll just write this page and--" "What if after just a bit of unwinding you might have a clearer idea of what should go into the paper."

You gave that thought a go, and your glad you did, because Alastor had prepared the most beautiful bath you could've expected, the room had an earthy and relaxing scent waffling through it, and a warm bath which had candles casting a warm glow over the room, the water was warm and soothing, you felt a wave of gratitude towards Alastor, he really did notice the small offs in you, it made you feel cared for and seen.

You felt your tense muscles relax against the warm bath, and your endless inner dialogue nagging you to write this or write this was coming to a comforting standstill and just like those two hours had passed by.

When you returned back to your room, it felt fresh, Alastor had sprayed some room freshener it smelled like fresh apples, somewhat even husky, the desk had been cleaned you notice new shelves carrying proud parchment papers, quills, pens, pencils with new decor, you sighed sitting on your bed feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you could finally relax.

Alastor handed you another book, well it was a journal it had a dark green color, it looked neatly wrapped and had a little black ribbon which you could use to tie around the journal, you were a little shocked and pleasantly surprised by how the evening had been turning out,

"I noticed you have a lot of Journals, and I remember you talking to Charlie about how you would buy a new one."

"Alastor... This whole evening, I don't know what to say, except thank you."

"Eat your meals on time dear, don't overwork yourself, and sleep on time."

You nodded feeling really glad, that even in a place like hell, you had someone so warm and caring and that makes you happy even in hell.

[bluewhitehues]

Hug | Kim Mingyu

Summary: You secretly like your bestfriend chan,he has no idea and sets you up on a blind date with his friend and hyung Mingyu.

Genre: Angst? (Little bit), comfort, strangers to lovers, fluff

Pairing : Idol Kim Mingyu × (f) reader

Part 9

It's been almost a month since you both started dating. And it's been so good this far. You've gotten very much cozy with each other. Dates, meet ups,spending time with each other any chance you get. You both make sure to make time for each other,to meet each other as much as possible, somedays are so hectic so you've to settle for calls or videocalls. Mostly you go to each others apartment, where either he cooks for you or you cook for him.

This time you're the one who's cooking and he keeps interrupting you because being the gentleman he's he can't let you do everything alone.

"Babe come onnn don't do everything on your own, let me help you,you know I like cooking anyway ..." He whines wondering near you in the kitchen.

"Yeah exactly and you need to be pampered as well you can't always do things for me, you've to let me do them for you as well." you say looking at him shrugging.

He pouts,"But I don't want you to do it alone, I'll cut these for you, lemme do atleast that." He says coming towards you,taking the veggies from your hold.

"Ok fine just this much and after that you've to go and sit there" you say pointing at the dining table across the kitchen counter.

"Okayy ma'am." He says shoving you to the side by nudging you with his side.

After he finishes that, he has a hard time keeping his promise to stay still. As you're cooking he's standing by your side, then slowly approaching to backhug you. He's hanging his head on your shoulders,arms wrapped around your waist and it's very distracting.

So you turn around in his hold looking at him in the eye and tiptoeing to smother his face with kisses while he's smiling ear to ear,hands on your hips. You pull back "this should be enough now go and wait for me, I promise I'll cuddle you later, I need to make food right now, I want it to taste good so I can feed it to you or else I will feel bad."  You whine and he chuckles at you,"wow that was a bribe?? ok ok since you promised I'm going, but I'm sure it'll taste good anyway..I love your cooking it's always good" he says placing a kiss on your cheek and going to sit back on the chair. You smile at that, he never fails to praise you or appreciate you.

Thinking about all the moments you've shared till now, all the "first" exciting experiences, There's still the most important "first" yet to happen. You are still nervous about kissing, you want to so bad but it's just hard,you get nervous.

The first time it happened - You both were teasing each other about something,flirting in between , you both were sitting on the couch and he had enough of your teasing so he leaned over trapping you with both of his arms on armrest behind you. His eyes had a teasing glint and as nervous as you were you didn't back off either you were bold in matching his stare, when he was close enough you smiled at him mischievously, pushing him back with a hand on his chest, saying "not so easily ,work for it." But thattt was for the first time only after that he tried giving you space thinking he really needs to earn it coz damn you're one kind of a woman and you were definitely not easy considering how hard it was for him to get you to notice him like he wanted..so he'll gladly wait, he'll gladly work for it ,he's anyway determined on treating you like a queen. You rule his heart so it's a given for him.

The first cheek kiss- He was running late for his shoot and you were scolding him, the reason being his immense love for your hugs that he couldn't leave you and got late ...in your blabbering he had come to you, placing a shocking kiss to your cheek that you couldn't even react because he went running for the door looking back at you laughing at your dumbfounded expression, taking you out of your trance "KIM MINGYU" you exclaimed after quickly finding your voice. You heard him giggling and saying bye after closing the door behind him.

The first time he called you baby - You were munching on snacks telling him about something so animatedly, you were so invested in it and it was so damn cute so he couldn't control it when he said. "Godd You are so cute baby , you know that?"  He had said with a giggle, removing the crumbs from the side of your lips, slightly pinching your cheek. You were frozen in your place, blush blooming on your cheeks."You called me baby" you whispered more like a statement to yourself than a question to him. He smiled "I did.. do you not like it? " He asked tilting his head. And you almost scared him when you exclaimed, " WHY WOULD I NOT OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH I WAITED FOR IT AND YOU'RE MY BABY TOO!!" You threw yourself in his arms after saying that making him burst out laughing loudly. " Oh my god see you're so cuteee." He said laughing. "And I didn't know you were waiting for it or I would've said it since the day one itself." " MY SILLY BABYYYY MHMMM" he had said while squeezing you in his arms .

"And you're my big babyyyyy" you had said giggling, pulling both of his cheeks.

Today when you finish eating the dinner with Mingyu's constant praises for your cooking he again doesn't fail to appreciate you.

"I always cook for everyone and it's so nice that now I have someone who cooks for me specially." "Thank you." He says looking at you with a dreamy smile.

"You don't need to thank me baby. You deserve it. you deserve much more and I want to do everything for you." You say smiling at him.

"Stop you're gonna make me cry" he whines pulling you in a hug.

'I love you' the words echo in your mind. Your eyes widen in shock for a second then you close them with a smile.You realise it.. you love this guy right here. He's everything you've ever wished for. He's everything you've ever wanted.

It's crazy the confidence you've gained over him because you're not scared anymore, you're ready to risk it all for him and you know that he will not ever hurt you. You'll tell him what you feel the way he deserves to hear it. Right now you don't care if he's not on the same page with you on this one, you just want him to know how lovable he's and he has made you fall for him.

Your heart is beating so fast in your chest.

Little did you know he feels the exact same as you do ..may be he has felt it for a little longer than you.

When you pull back,you both are looking at each other like the world has stopped moving and it's just you two that exist.  He smiles at you nudging your nose with his , placing a little peck on your nose and forehead. And at that you're trying to tippy toe to reach his face whining to him about him being so tall. "See how can I randomly kiss you, you'll always know when I'm about to kiss you and here you keep sneaking up on me kissing me anytime you want ..I want that privilege not even kidding." 

He laughs at you "damn you're so serious about it?" He asks while laughing.

"Ofcourse I'm that's like my biggest concern ever" you say scoffing.

"Looks like I can't help you with that..but on the contrary..you just need to tell me tho I'll lean down for you or--" he lifts you up with his hands on both sides of you waist, till you're on the eye level with him.

"What do you say" he asks, the corner of his lips lifted up in a little smirk. And whenever he smirks you don't back down, you refuse to.... So you change your surprised, flustered expression and loop your arms around his neck leaning closer to him while keeping the eye contact with him, you touch your nose to his, pulling his face closer by his neck. "Hmm...this is nice." you say. You notice how his breath stutters, his gaze dropping to your lips...his hold tightening on your waist making a shiver rush down to your spine.

He sighs closing his eyes for a second and then opening them again. "So...have I still not earned it?"  He asks in a whisper. Again glancing at your lips.

You know exactly what he's saying.

You move to peck his cheek. Again pulling back to look at him. "You did baby.. it didn't even take that long ...it's just..I'm nervous." You admit with a sigh.

His expressions turn softer at that. He places you down taking your hands in his and squeezing them.

You're looking at him nervously.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier" he says.

You groan placing your face on his chest and looking up at him with a slight pout. " Because I'm stupid." You whine.

He holds your cheek in his palm shaking his head at you. " No baby you're not stupid.. whatever you feel is valid..Take your time we are not in a rush and we won't do anything that you don't want to do ok? So I want you to tell me everything, if you're nervous tell me,if you're scared tell me..how else I'm going to take care of you if I don't know what's going on inside this head of yours hmm?" He says tapping his finger at your forehead.

You sigh at him.. saying, "why you are so nice like keep this up and I might even kiss you tomorrow itself who knows." He laughs at your antics.

"You're so silly I love it." He coos at you.

"And if you love it, I love it more!!" You exclaim pulling him by his hands for a random dance out of nowhere. There's not even music but he's playing along with you giggling at your silly moves and then making you laugh at his own silly ones.

That day he prays to god again that he wants you with him for the rest of his life.

Part 10

A/N: Have fun reading hope you like it🩷🩵

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 7

Part (7) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Gonna call this the halfway point, maybe

Warnings: impatience toward a child (kinda? I mean, yuh know... Crosshair), guilt, medical procedure/ gore, fantasy profanity (that warning always makes me giggle), sexual innuendo ish, gonna also add romantic tension because it's not really sexual tension, self-depreciating thoughts, body horror

WC: 3,755

“That's my arm… leg… That's still my arm…” There was a faint growl in the sigh that followed as the child continued pestering the irritated sniper, and my lips ached from how tightly I had to bite them to hold back my grin.

Wrecker offered none of my self-restraint, expression softened beneath a deep warmth, though there was no hiding the underlying sorrow in his gaze.

“How's the leg?” I asked quietly, attention focused on checking Hunter's chest tube and vitals before moving to look over Tech as well. He gave an almost bored shrug.

“Hurts a bit, but not like before.” He didn't take his eyes off the pair across from him as he spoke.

“When we reach the Marauder, I’ll give you something to relax, then we'll see if Cross and I can get it back in.” I told him gently. He let out a quiet hum in response.

“Think she means your armor.��� He called out, voice still strangely hushed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair shoot his brother an unamused glare, but, when the girl pointed to his forearm, he let out resigned huff.

“Vambrace." He said, word perfectly monotone, and the excited gasp that followed left him dropping his face heavily into his hand, instantly drawing a wide smile across my lips. Wrecker returned that smile only briefly before sinking back into a quiet shame.

“She'll warm up to you.” I promised, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his, but he merely replied with a halfhearted nod.

The girl still hadn’t said a word, soundlessly communicating with a nod or a frown, though her expressions were so vibrant, we needed little assistance in understanding her. Meanwhile, Hunter and Tech remained unconscious. Though both were stable, the longer Tech’s arm remained in that tourniquet, the greater the risk of it causing damage to the limb.

“N- Those aren’t toys.” Cross nearly snapped, only belatedly forcing his voice into a tense murmur. I looked back to see the girl still tugging at one of the reflector disks at his waist, undeterred. He let out a poorly stifled growl before snatching at one of the disks and tossing it to her, earning a beaming grin.

“Why don’t yuh sit down? We’re still a few minutes away, an’ yuh look beat.”  Wrecker asked softly. An excuse danced readily over my tongue, but, as I turned to face him, as I noted the gentle concern in his bright eyes, that excuse faded before ever being granted voice. And he was far from wrong. I felt the way my shoulders sagged despite some lingering attempt to fight back that oppressive exhaustion, the weariness of muscles long since pleading for respite, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe you’re right.” I murmured quietly. “Just for a bit.” He offered a small grin as I settled into the seat beside him, gaze wandering over Crosshair once more with an air of amusement at his resigned glare while the girl practically sat in his lap as she leaned over to tap his bandoleer.

The medbay of the Marauder was never meant for this; it was meant to offer only a liminal reprieve while en route to a proper medical center, more akin to a transport than a place of actual healing, but this was war, and what was once the bare minimum quickly became fantastical ideals in the face of necessity. There was no surgical suite. There was no hope for sterility nor endless supply of equipment, but none of that changed the reality of what was before me; Tech would either bleed out or lose his arm if I couldn’t locate and fix the vessels that had been severed in the crash.

He lay unconscious atop my bed; the same bed in which he’d spent nearly a week suffering beneath the horrors of withdrawal from those wretched fungal spores; the same bed that had seen each of the brothers relax upon as I eased their aches with leisurely massages; the same bed Crosshair and I had slept together in nearly every night since the loss of my brother.

It felt like I’d barely slept a few minutes when Wrecker woke me. A quick glance at my chrono confirmed exactly that, but we’d reached the Marauder, and there simply wasn't time for anything more. I rubbed weary hands over my eyes, forcing back the nausea that so often followed in the wake of a far too short rest, and pretended not to notice how closely Crosshair was watching me.

With his help, we'd gotten Wrecker on board first, then Hunter. The movement had woken him, and we’d barely made it up the ramp before he shrugged us off. I’d nearly objected, nearly thrown the words “chest-tube" and “collapsed lung" at him through snarled lips, and demanded he let us help, but the handful of steps weren't worth the fight, and, at the moment, Tech was in far greater danger.

“What do you need?” Crosshair asked, shoulders drawn back, eyes hard as he studied the pale form of his brother between us. I’d almost taken a moment to find something for him to do, some way for him to help, but I didn’t have time to walk him through how to help, nor did I have the energy.

“I’ve got him.” I promised quietly, already guiding a pair of shears around Tech’s shoulder to cut away the sleeve. “You should talk to the girl – no, I mean actually talk to her.” It wasn’t scolding, but, from the disdain that twisted his face, it might as well have been. “She may know something,” I pressed, “and, right now, she seems to like you the most.” His shoulders sank, eyes narrowing into a weak glare, but he knew I was right.

“I'm not a damn babysitter.” I had to fight back a smirk at the indignation in his voice, stealing a quick breath to quiet myself before responding.

“So, interrogate her. Nicely.” His glare deepened, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“I don't do nice.” He hissed, drawing a sigh from me. Movements unrushed by impatience or annoyance, I set down the sheers and walked around the bed toward him, lips barely hinting at a warm smile.

“I think we both know that's not true.” I murmured softly. He started to object, scowl just beginning to twist his face, but the heat behind it faded as I reached for him, hand moving up to brush lightly over his chest before caressing his jaw, his cheek, fingers subtly pulling him down. “You can be very sweet.” That harshness abandoned him as he let himself be drawn toward me.

“Just because you get special treatment doesn't mean I've gone soft.” He tried to rebuke, lips even tensing with the beginnings of a frown, but, again, his retort fell into something far too gentle for the words he’d said, annoyance robbed by the sight of the grin toying with my lips.

“We’ll have to talk more about that ‘special treatment’ later,” I nearly teased, “but, right now, Echo needs to focus on monitoring troop movement, Hunter and Tech are both out, and she's…” I didn't want to say it, the words cloying up my throat, “she’s afraid of Wrecker… You're the only one she trusts enough to hopefully open up to.” With an almost growled sigh, he stood back to his full height, reluctantly pulling away from me as his jaw jut forward, narrowed gaze turning toward the door.

“Seems to trust you just find, too.” He pointed out. I released a slow breath, exhaustion unsatiated by those few minutes of rest stolen during the flight now making itself known once more through both weariness and the beginnings of an impatience I fought to stem.

“I can't take care of Tech and talk to her, Crosshair.” I tried not to let my voice fall into a grumble, but it was near enough to draw his attention back to me, shoulders sinking slightly at what he saw, and my jaw tensed as I caved beneath the urge to look away.

“Alright.” The way the innate rasp in his voice quieted into a careful whisper sent a flutter of warmth through my chest, the heat of it both comforting and crippling as it stripped me of the meager strength granted by an impatience I was simply too tired to fully hide, and what stillness followed as my eyes rose to find him studying me with a concern that nearly brought a flush to my cheeks was a far too gentle thing amidst the knowledge of what grizzly tasks still awaited me.

I replied only with a grateful nod, lips tensing with a smile I couldn't quite manage before turning back to Tech. Crosshair didn't move at first, and I wondered what thoughts held him for those handful of seconds. Was he searching for some final excuse that might convince me to withdraw my request and free him of his dreaded task? Or was he waiting for me to falter, unconvinced by the determination I forced back into my eyes as I returned to his brother’s side?

Regardless if his hesitation was from doubt or concern or reluctance, he waited only a moment before finally leaving, granting me an isolation that offered just as much strife as it did comfort, absolving me of the need to maintain some façade that I might pretend I wasn’t fighting how heavily my shoulders sagged the instant the door slid shut even as it emphasized just how alone I was in this. After doing what I could for Tech, I'd need to check Hunter again before moving on to Wrecker. There was no luxury of a break, no hope for reprieve lest I risk sacrificing the well-being and safety of my men. So, I allowed myself to waste no more time, gaze traveling over the deep gash marring Tech's upper arm.

We like to feign knowledge even where nothing can be guaranteed. The human body exists in a constant state of change, and even aspects held as fact cannot be relied upon in the face of independent cases. Anatomy is based on averages which, at best, grant perfunctory guidance and, at worst, acts only as a distraction. Even clones proved far more unique than the Kaminoans liked to believe. Genetics may offer a foundation, but who and what we become develop independent of, and occasionally in spite of, that primordial code, from the moral of our character to how our actions alter the physicality of muscle and bone through years of hardship and abuse. Anatomy claims knowledge of where veins and arteries nestle beneath skin and tissue, but immaculate diagrams and ancient names meant nothing amidst the gore of shredded flesh and thickening blood.

It felt like hours passed in the span of a single, endlessly held breath as I carefully sought out severed vessels, each one needing meticulous care to be knit back together around a shunt and flushed of all threat of clots. Repairing the muscle was easier, and I was relieved to find no severed tendons. Still, the moment I finally released the tourniquet, my heart raced faster with each passing second, eyes glued to the monitors for any signs of distress. Did I miss something? Had I taken too long? Symptoms of compartment syndrome, limb ischemia, embolisms, stroke, and endless other complications roared through my head. If anything happened, if he was hurt even worse because I wasn’t careful enough or quick enough, there was no one to blame but me… But his heartbeat remained steady… There was no sudden change in protein levels in his blood… Still, I couldn't let myself breathe… not yet… I set what equipment I had to monitor him for any change, but... he seemed okay.

I watched him for a long moment, as though my very presence might delay or prevent complications, locked in that fear that something would go wrong the instant I so much as blinked, before forcing myself to walk away. There was more that needed to be done.

Strides heavy, I trudged through the door, absently working a wet cloth between my hands. Logically, I knew the latex gloves worked as intended, that my skin was untainted from his blood just as his wound was safe from whatever bacteria thrived on my fingertips, but I could still feel it: thick and viscous and everywhere, the scent of which clung to me just as relentlessly as the nauseating texture.

“Doc?”

My eyes darted up to find Wrecker watching me carefully, concern heavy atop his brow as his jaw hung open with an unspoken question, body frozen where he stood in the kitchenette, hand still outstretched toward a cabinet.

“Wrecker, what are you doing up?” I asked quickly, already trotting forward.

“Uh, just… figured I’d get the kid somethin’ to eat.” He answered absently, thoughts clearly elsewhere.  “Tech…” He started, and I realized why he seemed so distracted, chest bucking with a sharp inhale to answer him quickly.

“Recovering.” He let out a small sigh at my quiet reassurance. “There was a lot of damage, but it looks like I was able to repair it in time to keep the tourniquet from causing even more problems.” He was just about to reply, lips pulled into a relieved grin, but I interrupted him, words just shy of biting. “Speaking of ‘causing even more damage'…” There was a brief moment in which he seemed honestly confused. It took a mere flick of my eyes toward his knee, however, for a light blush and nervous smile to wash over him.

“Ah, well… with you being so busy, and we can all tell yuh need a break, Cross an’ Echo helped to just…” He motioned innocently toward the leg as he lifted it, bending the limb a few times as if to prove it was fine, but his hope for forgiveness crumbled amidst the darkness I could feel stealing over my expression. I knew they hadn't used muscle relaxers – I didn't keep any in my pack and no one had tried to sneak into the medbay while I tended Tech.

“Sit.” I ordered firmly, pointing to the small table. He hesitated, but held back whatever excuse or objection bated across his tongue as he sulked to the nearest chair. Without another word, I marched back into the hall, boots clicking loudly against the metal walkway as though to emphasize my annoyance.

The bunks were empty, as was the cabin when I entered it. Upon leaning down to grab my pack, however, footsteps sounded from the fore of the ship. I paused as Crosshair approached, not trying to hide the lingering annoyance from my gaze. He hesitated, confusion drawing his brows together.

“What?” The defensive snarl in his voice only furthered my irritation.

“I'll deal with you and Echo later.” I stated firmly. His expression pinched with indignation, but I didn't grant him time to form a retort before starting back toward mess, unable to deny the slight taste of pleasure at the note of apprehension that stilled any urge he may have had to follow with a sharp-tongued quip.

Wrecker hadn’t moved from the chair, hands thoughtlessly picking at his glove as he waited for me to return. His eyes snapped toward me as soon as the door opened. Whatever annoyance or anger I’d had abandoned me at the almost pitiful look on his face, tension fleeing me with a slow sigh.

“Didn’t mean to make yuh mad…” he muttered, teeth working over the inside of his cheek, and I had to fight the guilt that twisted through my chest.

“I’m not mad.” I whispered, walking quietly toward him. “I just… thought we were past this…” His head tilted slightly, looking at me with an uncertainty that further stoked my guilt. “This… dealing with things without me… Not letting me help you.” His eyes widened in understanding, back straightening as he drew a quick breath to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“I know you’re strong.” He quickly stilled beneath the gentleness of my voice, the faintest hint of a blush just coloring his neck. “You’ve had to be – you and your brothers… You couldn’t rely on anyone else, so you had to figure out a way to survive alone – to make do…” As I spoke, I gently unwrapped the brace from his knee and held the scanner steadily over the still swollen joint, gaze studying the small screen. “And I know that you’ve taken on a lot more of that burden than anyone gives you credit for.” His shoulders sank slightly, gaze falling to the ground though he offered no objection.

“You calm them down when things get too heated… get them to laugh when everyone’s too angry or sad or tired to realize that that’s exactly what they need… what we need.” I corrected, acknowledging how often he’d done just that for me, as well. He remained silent, but I could feel his attention shift back to me as I began carefully working my hands over the wealth of muscle that tapered at the end of his thigh, touch flowing around areas the scan revealed to be damaged that I might ease some of the swelling before redressing it.

“I know it hurt.” I continued softly, a deep sympathy quieting my voice even further. “Reducing a dislocation… It feels a lot better afterwards, but…” Again, his lack of even a dismissive grunt only confirmed my statement. “And you… all that muscle…” I let my fingers spread over the dense cords stretching down his thigh, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, with an injury like that, you can’t relax them. It’s an autonomic response, that’s why we use medication to help make them relax.” I glanced up at him to let him see the concern in my eyes as my hands returned to that careful, rhythmic ebb and flow along the abused tissue.

“I know you’re strong… probably barely even grunted when they did it… but forcing it like that, it can tear ligaments and tendons, and rip all that muscle that’s locked up trying to guard the joint… then it takes even longer to heal, and, even then, it usually doesn’t heal as well as it could have.” His jaw shifted absently to the side, teeth grinding in a mixture of guilt and resignation, rekindling my own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” I barely whispered it, hands coming to a stop atop the broad curve of his calf. A fresh confusion pulled at his handsome face, mismatched eyes studying me with a focus that was somehow just as quieting as it was penetrating.

To anyone else, seeing him like that, expression pinched with powerful brows drawn together and that broad jaw tensed enough to emphasize the cords of muscle lining his cheeks, he may have looked frightening. I knew others would have found him frightening… but I also knew what drove the intensity of his gaze; the desperate need to truly understand those around him; to read them before he might do or say something that would offend or scare absent need or intent. That’s why he was so gentle; so adept at buffering the fiery tempers of his brothers or, if the mood struck him, stoking the tempers of any unfortunate enough to garner his ire. Now, however, he stared at me like that neither to soothe nor harass. He studied me because those words didn’t make sense amidst the blame he believed himself responsible for, and he needed to understand before he could make it right. But I didn’t want him to feel that way. I only wanted him to be okay.

“I should have been faster.” I didn’t stop at the flash of realization that came over him, nor from the almost pained remorse that followed. “Leaving you with a dislocated knee for… hours – kriff… I really can’t blame you for wanting them to fix it any way they could.”

“Doc-” He called, shoulders sinking, but again fell silent as I looked up at him with a weary, apologetic smile.

“But next time,” I pressed, sowing something of a command back into my voice, “at least check with me first… Alright?” He was quiet for a moment longer before nodding, but the words that followed made my stomach sink.

“I mean… not like popping a knee back in is more important than saving Tech’s arm, so…” He said it was such offhanded disregard, body shifting in a dismissive shrug. When he looked at me, however, he froze, and I could only guess at the deep heartbreak surely painted across my face.

“You’re important.” I breathed the words into the too-great distance between us, pressing each one into existence with a desperate plea, begging him to believe me. “You’re important, Wrecker.” I said again, reaching up to cradle one of his hands between mine. It always surprised me; the sheer size of him. It was somehow so easy to forget amidst his vibrant, caring personality until moments like this when I could see how he dwarfed me, palm too wide for my fingers to fully wrap around.

That size also made it easy to imagine him as this invincible, impenetrable force, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d seen how deeply the girl’s fear had wounded him, how beaten he looked from the mere threat of my anger, and I hated myself for having caused him such hurt, for ever allowing him to think of himself as lesser than his brothers. Chest jerking with a sharp inhale, I pulled his hand toward me, lips pressing gently against his knuckles, and I mourned the cause of every scar marring that stunning, calloused skin.

“I never want you to think you’re not… not to me.” His hand shifted ever so slightly between mine, twisting as though he meant to reach for me, fingertip only just brushing against my chin before he pulled away, throat shifting stiffly as he swallowed whatever thoughts he’d robbed of any hope of being born. With a final, jerked nod, he leaned back, and the room felt that much colder without the heat of his touch, but I merely drew a deep, steadying breath and let my attention return to his knee, already reaching for a tube of bacta.

“All right. You going to drop your pants, or do I need to cut them off of you?”

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