#in sweats getting ibuprofen not giving a F how I look

[bakugosgothhoe]

Ugh yes fanfic ideas about us fellow 30s+. More of this please. I’m old. Gimme fics with older people. I need it I need it I need it

Over 30!reader and over 30!Law having their meet cute when they both reach for the last store-brand bottle of ibuprofen on the shelf. Reader and him are both nearly shapeless in hoodies and sweatpants, both too tired after work to fight the other, and things quickly devolve into a “no really, it’s fine, you can have it” battle of wills that’s more charged than either of them expected.

They meet again at the checkout and reader absolutely roasts him for his choice of frozen dinners and the copious energy drinks in his cart, but thanks him for giving up the ibuprofen. This is the best date that wasn’t a date either of them have had in a long time.

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Joseph x f!Deputy!Reader drabble

i am cooking again lads, please enjoy

Warning: far cry 5 standard warnings

:)

When she woke up again, the ground had stopped shaking. There was this strange calm spreading across the world, as if the world had gone to sleep. They said, they didn’t know which weapons would be used in the 3rd world war, but the 4th one would be fought with sticks.

The radio stations had gone quiet, the TV only showed static. Who was left out there? How many were left out there? What even was left outside?

The only noise was the ringing in her ears, the noises of the electric devices scattered around the bunker, and humming. Joseph was somewhere out there, alive, doing whatever a cult leader was doing inside of a bunker during the apocalypse.

Sleep was a welcomed friend for her.

While she was asleep, Joseph cut her free and placed her in the bed next to her spot. The constant sleeping was a sign of a concussion. Joseph had sustained injuries too, but nothing to the head. His cuts and bruises healed over quickly. Her concussion took longer to heal. She was awake only a few hours a day, and whenever she was, she wasn’t…quite here. Whenever Joseph tried to speak to her, it felt as if she was in a cloud of cotton. Not really present, but not too far away. His voice was muffled by the voices inside of her own head.

Two weeks in, she finally spoke to him in a normal voice.

“Can we make some goulash? I’m craving it.”

Dutch had prepared loads of canned food for the end of the world. No one had prepared Dutch for the end of the world. For now, Joseph refused to open the freezer. 

Joseph cooked them a can of goulash. To stretch the meal, he added pasta with it, in hopes that they’d feel fuller for longer. It was a good meal. It reminded her of home. A home so far away. She knew she’d never see it again, and the tears were shed in private.

It took them a long time to warm up to each other. She killed his family. He killed hers. That made them even. But admitting these things was a hard thing to do. Admitting weaknesses was not for the weak. It takes a strong willed individual to admit that they have flaws, weaknesses, and make mistakes. It takes an even stronger willed individual to look into someone’s face and admit to murdering their family.

What broke the ice was a fever.

They couldn’t really tell what day or month it was, but the tiny airflow by the bunker entrance was ice cold, showing that winter had started. Nothing was sealed tightly. Joseph had insisted on staying shirtless, while she had found a bit of joy in wearing different clothes after waking up from yet another slumber.

Joseph managed to catch a brutal cold, his whole body was trembling as another chill ran down his spine. There was a ton of medication in the bunker, but Joseph insisted on riding it out the old way, with cool compresses and tons of fluid. She wasn’t a fan of this, calling him a pigheaded fellow, because if he were to die of the fever, she’d have to deal with his rotten body. But on the 3rd day of constant fever, he gave in and let her give him ibuprofen. The relief was nearly instant, and Joseph did not die.

She made him warm meals, helped him change out of his clothes when he managed to sweat through the fabric. And what helped him the most? Her just sitting with him. His sore throat was the first part to heal completely, and in a slightly feverish nonsense, he started to talk.

How everyone had failed them in their lives. How he had hoped that the Project would be a place of comfort and help for other failures like them. But this time around, Joseph could have been the one to hold the knife to someone’s neck. After all, he was in control, and could put it away whenever he wanted to. He acknowledged that he let some things get out of hand. The brainwashing wasn’t necessary, but Jacob had insisted on it, threatening violence if he had not gotten his way. Torture wasn’t on his to do list either, but John had insisted on it, threatening to stop the cash flow to Eden’s Gate.

Give them a finger, and they’ll reach for the whole arm.

But Joseph had let himself get out of control as well. The enablers around him, the yes-sayers if you dare, got the best of him. They clouded his vision and made him forget what was important. Saving the failures. And in the end, the only failure he could save was himself. He hadn’t noticed the silent tears running down her face.

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was meant to be.”

[thenicestthingiveseen]

day 6: dance

this one got long. and angsty

muggle AU, mention of character death, fem!Harry Potter, implied future F/F, implied drug use, alcohol use, bisexual Harry Potter [630 words]

written for @hinnymicrofic

read below or on AO3

The room is humid with sweat. The bass is pumping so hard you can feel it in your bones. Beer, liquor, dirt, and probably other things she doesn’t want to think about cover the floor in a light layer of the most disgusting sludge Ginny, once again, does not want to think about. She’s here as a favor to her brother. She skipped out on the party tonight because of early morning practice and now her goal of sleeping in is for naught. 

You need to help me with Hallie. She’s not ok. 

That was the phone call she got fifteen minutes ago that caused her to shoot out of her bed and scramble for sweats, shoes, wallet, and keys in a haze of concern.

As she walks through the house her vision is clouded by sweaty bodies and smoke wafting in the air - if it’s weed or cigarettes she can’t tell. Not that she cares right now, she’s on a mission. As she navigates the sea of bodies and heads into what she thinks is the dining room, she types out a quick wya? to her brother. 

This is useless because in front of her dancing on a table with a bottle of tequila is Hallie James Potter. 

Sighing to herself, she looks around for Ron and sees that he’s on the floor behind her looking defeated. When she walks over his facial expression shifts and he looks both relieved and exhausted. 

“I’m sorry, I know you have practice in the morning. It’s just, Hermione’s out of town and Lily and Sirius would kill me if they saw her like this.” He’s babbling. He feels guilty and Ginny knows he feels less guilty about waking her up and more guilty about letting Hallie get to this point. 

“S’alright.” Ginny shrugs. “Gimme a lift will you?”

Ron looks uneasy but does it anyway. 

“GINNY!” Hallie shrieks. “Are you here to dance with me?” Her eyes are glazed with drink and probably an illegal substance and Ginny knows she’s not completely there otherwise she’d be mortified at the fact that she was dancing on the table. Not that Ginny can blame her for trying to escape. Life’s handed Hallie a shit hand recently. Between burying her father three weeks ago and a brutal end to a questionable eight-month relationship with a man she barely told anyone about, Ginny’s sure Hallie feels like her entire world is spiraling out of control. 

Ginny grabs Hallie’s free left hand while using her own left hand to cup her cheek, this causes some of the onlookers to wolf whistle at them. Ginny just rolls her eyes and looks at Hallie, “Let’s get you home, yeah? We’ve got practice in the morning.” Something in Hallie’s brain clicks and her glassy eyes are now even shinier - filled with tears. She nods her head vigorously, curly hair moving wildly around her face. 

Once they’ve made it down from the table, Ron grabs Hallie’s other side and they lead her out of the house and down the block to Ginny and Hallie’s dorm. 

“I’m sorry Ron,” Hallie mutters. Ron shakes off the apology and gives her a huge hug and a kiss on the top of her head. 

Ginny goes around the room setting up water, ibuprofen, and a trash can for Hallie. When Hallie’s finally settled in bed she apologizes to her as well.

Ginny kisses her on the cheek and says, “Don’t apologize for hurting. Just try not to stop the hurt this way again, ok? It scared us.”

Hallie nods before turning over to stare at the wall. 

Ginny’s not sure how they’ll make it to practice, but she’d do absolutely anything for this girl; she loves her. So, it’s worth potentially being benched next game.

[gretavansteph]

home remedy | j.t.k

no bc we're going to HELL for this omg but this was a request based off of this ask i'm blushing I hope y'all enjoy

Let me know what y’all think and don’t be a stranger, leave your requests in my ask!

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

Your breath caught in your throat as another wave of pain hit you, this time stronger than the last. You were trying to keep yourself together, you didn't want to interrupt the bands rehearsals even though all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry.

This morning when you woke up you were feeling great, even more so because Jake had invited you to come watch him and the boys rehearse. You agreed instantly, and everything was completely fine and dandy until you got there. It was just your luck that on this particular day, your period swarmed you. And when you say swarmed, you meant swarmed. It hit you like a truck as soon as you had walked into the studio, and you immediately excused yourself as you felt the impossible to ignore wetness between your legs. It wasn't even the good kind, and it definitely put a damper in your mood.

Thankfully you were always prepared, so you dug around your purse and pulled out a tampon. You went about your business and popped some ibuprofen before the inevitable cramps hit, and once you washed your hands you made your way back into the studio. It was all going great, the guys sounded amazing and you loved watching Jake in his element with the people he loved most in the world. The way he would furrow his brow in concentration, his tongue poking out slightly as he made sure to hit all the right notes. He looked hot as all hell, and he looked good enough to eat. You wouldn't mind licking the sweat off his face that was a result of him putting his whole jussy into his music. You had read that on twitter somewhere and hadn't stopped saying it. Jake didn't understand it no matter how many times you explained it, but you thought it was hilarious.

You giggled to yourself at the thought, giving Jake a smile and a wave as he looked at you through the glass as if knowing you were thinking of him. He returned the smile and got back to work. You relaxed against the comfy couch you had set up camp on, taking a few pictures of the guys and of Jake. You were having a great time, you really were.

And then you weren't.

The first wave of pain caught you by surprise, but it was barely there. More so a small ache than anything, so with a small sigh you relaxed once again and trained your attention on the band. They were running through a verse of Safari, and you were singing along with Josh when another wave hit you.

"Holy f-"

You bit down on your lip, stopping the rest of the word from coming out. The pain was slowly but surely getting stronger, but you really wanted to ignore it. You were enjoying your time with the guys, and you knew Jake enjoyed you being there too, so upon taking a few breaths you resumed your singing with Josh. It worked for about a good twenty minutes, but now it was to the point the pain had you sweating.

This was the thing about your period, some days you would get lucky and have an easy cycle. Maybe some light cramping on the first day or maybe the second but nothing more. Or sometimes no cramping at all, but then there was those other periods like the one you were currently experiencing where you imagined dying would be less painful. It hurt so impossibly bad, and you knew it was only going to get worse. These types of periods would normally bound you to your bed for the entire duration, and you hated it. But you hated it even more when it occurred while you were away from home, like now. It made you even more uncomfortable, especially because you weren't wearing your comfy period panties. And you didn't have your heating pad or your blankie.

You tried holding back as much as you could, but you couldn't do it any longer. So when Jake looked up at you with a smile, it immediately left his face as he took in your state of distress. You waved him over and he rushed to put his guitar down before he all but ran out of the booth and over to you, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. "Are you hurt? Do you need me to get you anything I can-"

"Can we go home?" you asked, voice shaking as another wave of pain hit you, this time lingering longer than usual.

He took hold of your hand and without meaning to you squeezed, hard, eliciting a hiss from his lips.

"I'm so sorry I just- my fucking period and- ow fuck!"

He nodded in understanding, helping you up from the couch and leading you out the door after gathering your things. You were able to make it to the car before your tears fell, the pain becoming impossible to hide.

"I know baby, I know, I'm gonna get you home." Jake spoke, putting the car in reverse and all but flooring it away from the studio.

The air was flooded with tearful apologies from you, for pulling him away from his practice, but he quickly dismissed them, saying the guys would understand and that the main priority was getting you to a more comfortable spot. He let you hold his hand on the way, trying not to let it show how much your squeezing hurt.

"I know you're hurting, love," he began, letting out a wince. "But you're squeezing the money makers."

You released his hand with an apology, opting out for gripping onto your knee instead. You let out a sigh of relief as he finally pulled into your driveway, rushing over to help you out of the car and leading you into the house.

You went straight into the restroom to change, discarding your clothes and replacing your tampon. You realized you had forgotten to grab some clothes and you mentally cursed yourself, but a knock at the door interrupted your self scolding. The door cracked open and Jake's hand poked through, your clothes dangling in his hand.

"You forgot these," he said.

You took the clothes from his hand, thanking him before he closed the door once again to give you some privacy. Your heart melted at the sight in front of you, and your tears fell onto the articles of clothing. He had picked your favorite pair of period undies, some soft and comfy shorts and one of his t shirts that was a few sizes too big on you but you loved to wear it anyway. You quickly got dressed and made your way into bed, crawling under the covers. You took notice of Jake's missing figure from the room, but you quickly forgot about it as the pain took over your thoughts.

You groaned in pain, curling up into a ball as you disappeared under the covers. After a few minutes they were pulled back and you felt yourself being pulled into a warm body.

"Move your hands, baby." Jake spoke softly, lightly pulling your hands off of your stomach.

You felt the warmth of a heating pad on your skin, realizing that must've been the reason he wasn't in the room. You curled into the heating pad, your legs pulled up close to your chest, pushing the pad into your skin. It helped to a certain extent, but the pain was so strong it took over your lower abdomen and your lower back. You let out a small sob in pain, wishing it would stop, causing a frantic Jake to speak up.

"What do you need, love?" he asked. "What do you need me to do?"

You knew he just wanted to help, and you adored him for it. But in instances like this there wasn't much to do except wait for it to run it's course. You reached behind you and took his hand, placing it under your shirt on your lower back, silently asking him to rub the area. He caught on and began rubbing your back, and you let out a sigh as he applied pressure.

He held you for a while, switching spots with the heating pad to rub your front as the heating pad warmed up your back. You were able to stop crying after a while, the little routine he had come up with proving to help. You were able to relax into his arms, at one point dosing off to sleep for a few minutes. You woke up not long after, and you were grateful the pain was mostly gone. You leaned into Jake, pulling the heating pad from between your bodies to really feel him.

"Thank you, baby." you mumbled, placing your hand on top of his as it laid on your stomach.

He placed kisses on your cheek, trailing down to your neck and your shoulders. You shivered, and you felt him smile into your neck.

You loved him like this, you loved him all the time but when he was soft like this he melted your heart. Everyone was used to seeing the crazy sex god on stage, working his magic on his guitar making everyone in the room, including you, swoon. But when he was home with just you, he let his soft side come out. You loved that he reserved it for you, even when he sometimes tried to act tough around you you knew he was really just a big softy.

You cuddled up with each other for a while, and you were enjoying these pain free moments. With a groan from Jake, you peeled yourself away from him and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, sitting up with a pout.

You smiled at how adorable he was, trying to fight the urge to crawl back into bed and kiss the pout off of his lips.

"I'm gonna take a shower," you replied, making your way towards the restroom door. "While I can."

He sighed dramatically, flopping back on the bed with the same pout. You laughed, waving your hand at him before you disappeared into the restroom. You started the shower, setting the water just how you liked it before discarding your clothes.

Back in bed, Jake listened as the shower turned on in the restroom. His mind wandered back to the state you had been in earlier on in the day, and he hated seeing you that way. He especially hated not knowing what to do, he felt helpless as you cried due to how much pain you were in. All he wanted to do was make it all go away, but he didn't know how. That was how he found himself nose deep in his phone as he read different articles online that were filled with all sorts of remedies to help cramps at home.

Over the counter medication, applying heat, massaging with essential oils?

He furrowed his brows at that one and continued on. He was so invested on how certain foods apparently play a part in the cause of menstrual cramps, that he almost missed the last one on the list.

Having an orgasm?

He smiled to himself as he read over that segment of the article. Once he had gathered as much information as needed, he threw his phone on the bed and made his way into the restroom, stripping himself of his clothes.

In the shower, you relished in the feel of the hot water on your back, taking turns to switch and let the water hit your tummy. The cramps were slowly coming back, and you were annoyed at the fact that you only had so much time to enjoy a nice hot shower. That was until Jake stepped into the shower with you, closing the door behind him as he stepped towards you.

"What are you doing in here?" you asked him, eyeing the smile that lingered on his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his very prominent front. "Just missed you," he mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

You returned the kiss before pulling back and giving him a look.

"I know that look, Jacob," you began, placing your hands on either side of his arms, running them up and down as the water washed over the both of you. "What are you really doing in here?"

He gave you a shy smile, dipping his face into your neck as he mumbled a response.

"What?"

You felt him kissing on your neck, nipping lightly at the skin.

"I said," he spoke, pulling back to meet your eyes. "I read that having sex helps with period cramps."

"Oh,"

Oh.

He blushed under your gaze, and normally you would've teased him but you were more focused on the heat that was making itself known between your legs.

"Is that so?" you whispered, toying with the hair behind his neck.

He nodded his head yes, pulling you closer and under the water. He pressed you tightly against his body, his hands wandering all over your backside as you slipped into a sloppy mess of kisses that mainly consisted of tongue.

You felt your body growing hot, so incredibly hot and it wasn't just from the warmth of the water. You moaned as he released your lips, biting at them before trailing kisses down your neck once more. Your breathing became heavy as he got down on his knees in front of you, eye level with your hard nipples, and you watched as he latched his lips onto one, toying the other with his fingers. You were dripping with excitement, you could feel it despite the water coming from the shower and he hadn't even done anything yet.

Moan after moan slipped past your lips as he continued his assault on your breasts, nipping and squeezing just the way you liked. You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling him back up to your lips. It probably wasn't the smartest idea trying to walk with your eyes closed in the shower especially given the circumstances, but you somehow managed not to fall as you pushed Jake down onto the bench in the shower, right bellow the shower head. You thanked whoever and whatever came up with the idea of putting a bench in the shower as you took your place in his lap, pressing your lips against his one more. You felt one of his hands reach behind you and grip your ass, keeping you in place while the other one went who knows where. The realization of where it went hit you as you felt the warm shower water hit your back as it ran down and disappeared in between your bodies. He had adjusted the shower head to hit the both of you.

Your hands trailed all over his body, teasing his hard cock by dancing your fingers around it, barely touching but never quite grabbing hold. His other hand met the spare spot on your ass, pulling back to deliver a hard smack at your teasing before he pulled you closer until you were flush against him. Your throbbing core rubbed up on him, and you were thankful for the water as it washed away any signs of your period. You were a panting mess as you nipped and sucked on his neck, moaning when he pushed you down onto him as he guided your hips to grind down on him.

"Fuck," you hissed, soaking in the feeling of a sting as another slap was delivered to your ass. "Did you- fuck, did you bring a condom?"

A nod of his head was all you needed as you practically begged him to slip it on so you could take your seat on your throne. You kissed him like your life depended on it as he blindly reached for the condom wherever he had put it, slipping it on once he found it.

You felt your pussy throbbing, you were so unbelievably turned on and your period hormones amplified the feeling by a thousand. You let out a string of whines as he teased you with the head of his cock, rubbing it through your folds and over your entrance but never pushing in.

"Jakey," you whined. "Please, baby."

He shushed you, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other held his hard cock, continuing his teasing.

"There's no need to beg, pretty girl." he spoke, his voice coming out much lower and raspier than before. "I'm gonna give you what you need." he promised, teasing his tip at your entrance. "I'll take care of you."

A small yelp left your lips followed by a loud moan as he slipped in without warning. You loved how full he made you feel, it always lingered even after he finished ravishing you. You grinded your hips onto him, feeling his cock moving inside of you.

"I want you to fuck yourself on it," he spoke, wrapping his hand around your throat as he pulled you down, his lips instantly going to your ear. "Fuck yourself on my cock, take whatever you need to make that pussy feel better."

You moaned at his words, and you immediately secured your knees on the bench next to him as you started bouncing up and down on his lap. All sorts of moans and whines left your lips, his own moans falling into the mix. You were a mess above him though you had only just started, but your period had you feeling all sorts of sensitive all over your body.

"How does it feel, hmm?"

You moaned, bouncing yourself a little harder. You loved when he talked to you while he was buried deep inside of you, he was like a whole other person. Outside of your pussy he was sexy, yeah and he was nice and soft and mushy, but when he was deep inside of you with his balls constantly slapping against your ass he turned into the dirtiest version of himself and you loved every single second of it.

A slap on your ass brought you out of your thoughts, and you felt your pussy throb at the feeling.

"I asked you a question." he demanded.

You slowed your movements, not being able to do both as you spoke.

"It feels so good, baby." you said into his ear. "So, so good."

His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady for a moment before raising you slightly, only to slam you back down.

"Fuck!"

Your eyes were squeezed shut as he delivered blow after blow, showing no mercy as he repeated his actions. Your legs trembled beneath you, and you were glad you had him to rely on as you could barely hold yourself up.

"What was it that you said? How did it feel?"

You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to give him what he wanted but he just felt so good, slipping in and out of you with ease. You loved how vocal he was in bed, but he also expected the same from you. Normally you were better at it, but right now you were putty in his lap and he knew it, which is why he continued to press for you to speak.

"F-fuck," you stuttered. "Your cock feels so good, so fucking good Jakey oh my G-"

He cut you off with a hard thrust into you. He loved how he could make you turn into a puddle of mush just with his cock.

"Yes!" you cried, pushing on his shoulder to meet him halfway as he thrusted in to you. "Fuck yes, right there."

He fucked up into you as hard as he could from the position he was in, and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he did so. He knew just how to please you, he knew just where you liked him to touch, so when his tip brushed against that bundle of nerves deep inside of you, you lost it.

"Oh my god don't stop," you begged. "Please don't stop,"

A string of 'please' continuously left your lips, your throat becoming sore at all of the vocalization. His hand delivered another slap to your ass, and he all but growled as he fucked you harder, if even possible.

You felt the heat building in your stomach, though you didn't want it to end. It grew stronger and stronger and you tried to hold it but you couldn't. You pushed your hand in between your bodies, reaching for your clit to encourage your orgasm.

"You gonna cum?" he asked, but he knew the answer.

By the way his moans were becoming more consistent you knew he felt your pussy tightening around him, bringing him closer to his own release.

"Are you gonna cum on my cock?"

All you could do was let out a pathetic whimper as you nodded.

"Use your words, princess. Tell me where you're gonna cum."

You picked up the pace on your clit, your forehead coming down to rest on his shoulder as you moaned.

"I'm gonna cum all over your cock," you repeated. "I'm gonna cum all over your cock, baby."

He let out a mixture of a moan and a growl as he picked up his pace.

"Fuck yeah you are, you're gonna cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."

You felt your body begin to shake even more as you felt your release getting closer.

"Baby," you panted. "Jake I'm gonna-"

"Cum, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my cock."

That's all it took for you to reach your release, your moans echoing through the bathroom as they bounced along the walls. You were so entranced by your orgasm that you almost missed the 'fuck!' coming from Jake as he spilled himself inside of you. He continued to fuck into you as you both rode out your orgasms, eventually stopping all movements once it became too much.

You slumped over his shoulder, clinging onto him to not fall off of his lap. You felt incredibly drained in the best way possible.

Jake took a hold of your hips, lifting you up to pull out his now soft dick from inside of you before he let you back down to rest on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you shared a mixture of 'I love yous'. He placed a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as he spoke.

"How's that for pain remedy?"

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[thatbritishactor]

Adventures in Success (part 7)

Adventures in Success (part 7)

Pairing : Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings : None, this chapter’s FLUFFY AF.

Summary: Ben’s agent is retiring and the firm wants you to represent him. It’s going to be hard for you not to mix work with feelings.

Words: 3,000

Type: Slow Burn, Fluff

Part 1   Part 2     Part 3     Part 4    Part 5   Part 6   Part 8

gif by bnbrns

My masterlist

3 months later

Ben’s been back in LA for a few days when he receives a text from you. Ever since your text exchange while you were drunk, the two of you resumed on your usual banter, leaving the unfamiliar politeness behind, much to his relief. It feels like the emotional wall you’ve put up between you and him progressively came crawling down with every text exchange. You are scheduled to meet for dinner tonight, and he can’t wait to see you.

He’s surprised you haven’t contacted him as he received the best news he’s ever gotten in his entire career. He’s been nominated for the Volpi Cup, the award for best actor in the Venice Film Festival, for the Bong Joon Ho movie. When he got the news from the film crew, he almost cried tears of joy. He was incredibly proud, but most importantly, he knew you’d have to drop his contract, as you had agreed. He wondered how you felt about his nomination, and why you hadn’t contacted him right away. Had you found someone else? If so, was it serious? His heart jumped in his chest when he saw your name illuminating his screen. He opened your message eagerly.

You: Hi Ben, I know we were supposed to meet today for dinner, but I got the flu and i’ve been stuck home for the last two days. I’m still feverish and I can’t make it out I’m so sorry… :(

So, that was why you hadn’t contacted him. Selfishly, he preferred to know that you were stuck home with the flu than in the arms of another guy. He writes back to you:

Ben: I can come over and bring some soup, herbal tea and flu medicine :)

You: absolutely not Ben, I’d never forgive myself if you got the flu because of me.

He raises his eyebrows as he reads your message. He won’t let you get away with this.

Ben: I’m immune to the flu :) plus I have some verrry important news and I NEED to see you.

You: I cant let you see me this way :( I haven’t showered in two days and I look like shit.

Ben: I don’t care. I’m coming.

You: Fine, you’re the f***** worst.

Ben: see you in an hour :)

Ben can’t stop smiling as he gets in his car to go to the grocery store, he’s so gleeful he could break into a song and start dancing in the street.

* * * * * * * * *

He knocks on your door, familiar with your place as he’s already been here a few times, for movie nights mostly. He’s even slept on your convertible couch after some nights where the two of you drank too much. You open slightly the door and he catches a glimpse of your face.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you came” you sigh as you turn over and leave the door open. He laughs loudly.

“That’s no way to greet me after a six months separation” he protests.

He smiles widely when he notices that you’re wearing a blanket around your shoulders, sweat pants and fuzzy socks. You’re walking awkwardly around your living room, looking exhausted. Your hair his wet so you’ve definitely taken a shower before he arrived. You look pale, your nose is red, you have dark circles under your eyes. You definitely look sick, but still cute, he thinks to himself. He sets the grocery bag on the table while you sit on your couch, staring at nothing.

“So, I took some chicken soup” he announces “some herbal tea, honey for your throat, your favorite ice cream and some ibuprofen”. He looks back at you, you’re wiping your nose with a tissue. You look so precious, he wants to hold you close and kiss you. He resists the urge and sets the items on your living room table, before making a trip to your kitchen to set the ice cream in the freezer.

“Thank you, Ben, that’s so kind of you” you reply weakly when he enters the living room. “I think my temperature’s rising again, I don’t feel too good” you add in a weak voice. He comes to sit next to you on the couch and presses a hand to your forehead. It’s clammy and hot, you’re burning up.

“Yep, feels like you’re having a fever” he states “I’ll get you some ibuprofen” he says, getting back up and heading to your kitchen to get a glass of water. He comes back a few seconds later and you’re lying on your side, your legs pressed to your chest, softly whining.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he says in a smooth voice. He crouches next to you and hands you the pill and the glass of water. You stare at him with glassy eyes.

“I can’t believe you came” you say, repeating the first words you’ve uttered to him when he got here.

“I told you, I have some important news to tell you” he says, smiling.

“But you’re seeing me like this” you whine, gesturing towards yourself. “I look like a monster” you say, closing your eyes.

“That’s not true, you look sick” he protests “You still look pretty and cute, don’t worry”, he adds with a grin. You hide your face in a cushion, not replying.

“Come on, take the pill” he says patiently. You open your eyes again and slowly sit.

“Thank you” you whisper, your hands trembling a bit.

“Do you want to eat something?” he asks, concerned.

You nod to say no “I’m not hungry” you say, wincing.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You look away, thinking, scrunching your nose a bit. God you’re cute, he thinks, having to resist the urge to kiss you again.

“I don’t really remember” you reply “The fever’s making the last few days blurry” you add, scrubbing your eyes.

“I’m gonna get you some soup” he says, and he goes to the kitchen to get you a spoon.  He puts the kettle on to make you some tea as well, because he wouldn’t be a true British person of he didn’t.

“It’s still warm” he says, coming back in the living room. You nod as you patiently wait for him to bring you the soup, and sigh when he gives you the warm bowl.

“So, what’s the big news?” you ask.

“It can wait.” Ben answers, rubbing your arm to warm you up, seeing you shivering.

“But you came for that” you protest, drinking your soup.

“I came to see you” he replies, smiling softly.

You nod your head, closing your eyes “This is so good” you say.

“I’m glad you like it” he replies, getting comfortable on the couch. “Do you want to watch something?” he asks, gesturing towards your TV. “A comforting movie, perhaps?”

You look at him, smiling softly “Yeah, I could watch something” you say “I’ve spent the last two days in bed” you add.

“What do you want to watch?” he asks, looking intently at you. Even when you’re sick, you still have the same effect on him. His chest feels a bit tight and he desperately wants to touch you. You think for a few seconds before smiling slowly, your eyes looking heavy. You look so tired and weak, it breaks his heart “Princess Bride” you reply, looking content.

He laughs “Princess Bride it is!” he replies as he turns the TV on. He goes back to the kitchen to fetch you your tea, adding a generous amount of honey to soothe your throat. He comes back in the room and you’re standing next to the sofa.

“Could you unfold the couch?” you ask weakly, looking up at him. “I want to fall asleep in front of the film” you add.

He has the resist the urge to cup your face with both of his hands and kiss you. “Of course” he replies, happy to feel useful to you. He expertly unfolds the sofa, and you climb on it right away, still wrapped in your blanket. He lies down next to you and launches the movie. He feels genuinely content in this moment, thinking that there’s no place where he’d rather be, because he’s with you. He thinks to himself that he simply needs your company to feel whole and happy, and he realizes, for the hundredth time, how serious his feelings are for you. He glances at you and sees that you’re shivering.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m so cold” you reply, hugging yourself.

“I’ll get another blanket” he replies, and you reach for his arm before he gets up.

“Can you hold me?” you ask, looking at him. His heart explodes with joy in his chest and he tries to control his facial expression.

“Of course” he replies softly with an even voice, and he’s impressed with himself. He slides closer to you on the sofa and opens his arms, and you snuggle against him, sighing, seeming satisfied.

“You smell so good” you say after a few seconds.

He laughs. Why do you need to be in an altered state to say these things to him? Drunk or feverish? What stops you from saying how you feel? Why do you have to control yourself this much? he thinks bitterly.

“Thank you” he replies, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” you ask, your eyes closed. You seem like you’re slowly falling asleep.

“What do you mean?” he asks, still half laughing.

“You’re smart, kind, funny, unbearably handsome.” you reply, yawning, before snuggling your face against his chest.

“You’re not so bad yourself” he replies softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m not good enough for you” you reply, and your eyes are closed, your expression relaxed.

“What? That’s nonsense” he replies, frowning and aghast.

“Hmmmm...” you reply, your head falling a bit, and he understands that you’ve fallen asleep now. He looks back at the TV, distracted. Is that why you won’t date him? Using the excuse of being his agent? Because you’re insecure? He frowns as he ponders on this, still holding you against him. Your breathing is even and your face relaxed, and he feels happy and privileged to see you this way, unguarded and natural. He falls asleep before the movie ends, sill suffering from jet lag.

* * * * * * * * * *

You open your eyes, waking from the fever dream you were just having. You feel sweaty and cold, coming down from your fever. You look around you and find Ben lying next to you, asleep. You stare at his beautiful face for a few seconds, lit by the glowing screen of the TV. You usually can’t stare at him as much as you want to, so you indulge fully. You look at his eyes, his long lashes, the beauty spot you love so much. His nose, his mouth, his beard. His cheekbones, the soft curve of his lips. You heart aches in your chest, you find him so beautiful it almost makes you want to weep.

You close your eyes and sigh deeply, and decide to get up and take a shower to clean the sweat off yourself. You get up slowly, in order not to wake him up, and head to your bedroom. You set out a clean set of pajamas (the good fancy ones, because Ben’s here after all, and you’ll definitely look better in them than in your old sweat pants) and hop in the shower, happy to feel the warmth of the water on your skin. You close your eyes and try to focus to analyze the situation. It’s hard because you’re still feverish, and you feel groggy.

He’s here, you think to yourself, in awe. He came, only to take care of you. You shake your head as you realize how much he must care about you to have come all the way here. He could be anywhere, with anyone, and yet he decided to come to you. You nod your head as you take in the realization and try to calm your nerves. Once you’re done cleaning yourself, you step out of the shower, fold yourself into a towel and go brush your teeth, wanting to feel clean and fresh. You stare at your own reflection, unimpressed. What does he see in you? You simply don’t understand. He could have any woman, any beautiful actress in the industry, any gorgeous model, why does he waste his time with you? You shake your head, unable to comprehend what he sees in you. You step into your bedroom, put on a clean set of underwear before putting on your Pjs.

You tip toe in the living room again and turn off the TV screen. Ben shuffles in his sleep, sighing, and you lie down next to him. You could go back to your bed, but you can’t resist being so close to him. You’ve missed him so much these last few months, and your feelings for him are so strong. You reach for his hand and grab it softly, wanting to have a physical contact with him. He wakes up at the contact and your heart drops in your chest. He opens lazily his eyes, and they seem completely black in the dark.

“Hey” he whispers, smiling softly. “Feeling better?”

“A bit” you sigh back, your chest feeling horribly tight. You could kiss him, right here, right now. Nothing can stop you, except yourself.

“C’me here” he says, and he opens his arms. You don’t hesitate for a second, turning your back on him and snuggling close to him. He spoons you, holding you close, his arms around you. You close your eyes, thinking you’ve never been this happy before, and quickly fall asleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

You wake up to the smell of pancakes and sigh happily. You stretch on the couch and slowly open your eyes, trying to assess how you feel. You’re still a bit sore and your throat hurts, but you don’t feel feverish anymore. You look around you and Ben’s woken up, probably in the kitchen judging by the sounds coming from it. You quickly get up, panicked, and run to your bathroom. You assess the mess as you stare at yourself in the mirror, and decide to brush your teeth first. You brush your hair, put fresh water on your face and breathe evenly to calm yourself. You’re not thrilled by the way you look, but at least you look a little more human. You tip toe to the kitchen and you hear Ben singing, bringing a bright smile to your face.

You enter and he’s cooking pancakes, and you think to yourself that the man has no mercy for you. First, coming to take care of you while you’re sick, secondly, making you pancakes in the morning. How is he even real? You ask yourself. He spots you and stops singing:

“Morning sunshine, how are you feeling?” he asks, grinning.

“A little better, thank you”, you reply as you take a sit on the counter.

“Ahhh, finally some good news”, he says, grinning. How does he look so good? You ask yourself. The man’s slept in his clothes, hasn’t taken a shower yet and he looks like the most beautiful person in the world. You grind your teeth, annoyed by him.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask, blushing.

“Never better” he winks, and you blush even more.

“So, what about these big news you wanted to tell me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He slides a plate with pancakes and a cup of tea towards you, and you grab it eagerly.

“Well, I guess you haven’t heard since you were stuck in here with a fever” he starts, and he looks intently at you. “I’ve been nominated for best actor at the Venice Film Festival” he announces.

You choke on your tea and slide off the counter “Oh my God, Ben!!” you yell, and you jump at his neck to hug him, screaming with joy. He laughs as he catches you, and the two of you stand here for a while, hugging. Your breathing slows a bit and you step back “Congratulations” you say, looking up at his face, and the expression on his face makes you weak in the knees. There is tenderness, and a hunger, a want that makes you quiver.

“Thank you” he replies “I’d never had gotten there without you” he says as he puts a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You blush and turn over to grab your tea, before facing him again.

“I have something to ask you” he says, “a favor”.

“Anything, Ben” you say, smiling.

“By my guest at the film festival” he asks. “Come with me, please.”

You stop smiling and you feel sudden dread.

“Ben, I could neve-”

“I don’t want anyone else but you” he cuts you off “by my side, on this day. Please” he begs, and you get lost in his charcoal eyes, unable to resist him.

“Fine”, you sigh, and he grins widely.

“Thank you” he replies “I’ll send you the details” he winks, quoting back to you one of your favorite expressions. You blush again, feeling self conscious.

“I have to go” he says, “I’ll talk to you soon?” he adds, seeming hopeful.

“All right” you reply, still feeling weak in the knees. He steps closer to you, and he gently cups your face with both hands, before placing a light kiss on your forehead. He releases you and grabs his jacket. “Have a nice day” he says, winking, before leaving the kitchen.

You stare into the void as you hear your front door slamming, unable to process what just happened.

Part 8

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[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

-

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

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[wyn-n-tonic]

My Turn

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x f!reader Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Daddy kink (but not explicit). Sick Santi. Fluffy, dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Santi's always taking care of reader, I wanted to write about reader taking care of Santi.

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST SIGN-UP

You run the back of your hand across the soft stubble of Santi’s cheek, an act he leans into as he catches your palm in his and holds it there.

“My love,” you whisper to him, “you’re burning up, do you feel well?”

He’s been acting strange all day but was stranger still at dinner, didn’t even have the energy to raise his eyebrow at you let alone keep up with your usual dance. You pushed his buttons, gave him shit, and all he did was smile at you.

“Hmm,” he brings your knuckles to his lips now, “bit of a headache,” another kiss to your wrist, “throat hurts,” he drags his lips down your forearm, “nothing I can’t handle, baby girl.”

“No,” you stand and tug him up to you, “come with me.”

He shivers when he stands, a cold trembling reaching down to his fingertips and right into you now.

You lead him to the bathroom and begin to fill the tub, a sprinkling of menthol and eucalyptus bath salts along with lavender bubbles.

“Strip,” you command, turning around and making your way to the medicine cabinet.

“That's my line, princesa.”

You shoot him a look while you fiddle with the cap on the ibuprofen, “I'm not telling you twice.”

He begins complying, his shirt falling with a small plop against the cold tile. When you turn back to him, a glass of water and the fever reducer in your hands, he’s struggling to bend and kick his pants off.

“Baby, stop,” your footsteps are quick as you press the pills into his hands, “take this, I got that.”

He carefully grabs the glass from you as you kneel, pulling the waistband of his sweats down with you.

A groan escapes his lips as you guide one leg, then another, out of the confines of the soft fabric.

Looking up, you catch a shade of embarrassment cross his face, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

“I must really feel like shit,” he presses the empty cup back into your hands, “usually a sight like that would have me standing at full attention, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you shake your head, “don’t apologize, get in the tub.”

You turn the tap off as he steps in gingerly, lowering himself to settle in the warmth as steam fills the room. 

“Where are you going?” His voice is quiet but it reaches for you where his arms cannot.

“Setting a timer so I can give you more ibuprofen in six hours.”

“That’s in the middle of the night, we’ll be asleep.”

“Yes,” you turn back to him as you begin to remove your own clothes, “that’s the point of the timer, to wake me up so I can check your temperature.” 

Instinctually, he leans back, opening his legs to create a space for you but you shake your head.

“No, baby,” you’ve grabbed his shampoo and body wash from the shower now, “scoot forward.” 

Doing as he’s told, you settle in behind him and pull him back against your chest.

His approval, his comfort, hums deep in his being; vibrating your body under his in the enveloping heat.

“Does this feel good?” You press your lips softly to his hairline, sweat beading along his brows.

He whines, “you're using all my lines and moves against me right now.” 

“Not against you, baby,” you drag your fingernails across his scalp, “for you.” 

You lose track of time as the water cools, the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against you. You wash his back and chest, gently scrubbing the body wash across his skin. 

But what makes him melt is when you pull him closer to your chest, encouraging him to slip down further beneath the suds and gently begin to wet his hair.

Santi moans at your touch as you rub the shampoo through his hair, flexing your fingers down into the sides of his neck. 

“How do I always forget how amazing you are at this?” His voice rasps in a way that’s not usual, raw at the edges of his words.

“Shh, my love,” you kiss his cheek, unable to tell if the heat is from the fever or the bath, “you always forget because usually you’re the one doing this for me.”

He laughs as you begin to cup the water, bringing it up to rinse through the soap that’s curled around those of his own, flattening the locks back down against his scalp.

“Mayb—“ another sinful sound escapes his lips, “maybe we can take turns, you can treat daddy sometimes.” 

As you rinse the last of the shampoo free from his hair, you feel a rattling building in his breath.

“Okay, baby,” you agree with a kiss to his shoulder, “scoot up and let me get out.”

He leans forward and opens the drain as you stand up and wrap yourself in a towel.

“Come on,” you reach for him, “give me your hand.” 

You wrap him in a towel and take him to sit on the bed, his big hands coming out to chase your warmth as you walk away, busying yourself with grabbing his pajamas.

You kneel in front of him again, coaxing each foot into the legs of a clean pair of sweats.

Gun calloused fingertips brush the sensitive skin of your cheek and you look up to meet his eyes, warm and dopey under the soft lamplight of your bedroom, “what's up?” 

A shake of his head, “I'm just overwhelmed with how much you love me.”

“Shh,” you press your lips to inside of his knee, “stand up for me, let’s get these pants up and then I want you to lay down.”

“Think I like it when you’re bossy,” he smiles, standing up and dropping the towel, “like what you see, baby?” 

“Mm,” you hum at him, standing to pull the waistband of his joggers upward, “I do, but you’re sick so I need you to rest.”

He paws at the edge of your towel, “may I kiss you?” 

“Lay down,” you command with a quick press of your lips to his, “let me get dressed.”

When you come back from the closet, his shirt hanging limply against you, the heel of his hands are pressed to his eyes with a whine.

“How are you feeling now, my love?”

“I'm so fucking hot, baby girl.”  

“I know,” you call to him as you walk back to the medicine cabinet, “just lay there, baby.”

“Keep using my lines, prin—“ he coughs then, “I dare you.”

The mattress dips under your weight as you straddle him, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your hips, “as much as I would love this, baby girl, I don’t think I can tonight.”

“Shut up, Santiago,” it’s half a laugh as you unscrew the lid off the jar in your hands.

“I can feel your pussy throbbing, princess.”

You lay your hand a little too hard on his chest, digging the menthol rub into his collarbone, “think that’s your headache.” 

He breathes deeply, a soft sigh escaping his lips, “how are you so nice to me?”

You don’t answer him, you don’t answer any of the incoherent babble that begins to slip from his tongue; the English, the Spanish, the soft praises he has for you and your hands.

Eventually, his snores fill your ears and you climb away from him with a kiss to his fevered forehead.

As you turn the bedside lamp off, you whisper, “sometimes, it’s just my turn to take care of you.” 

TAGLIST: @a-bang-for-your-bucky​ @amneris21​ @apascalrascal @banga-sama​ @bdavishiddlesbatch​ @casualpalacebagelrascal @danniburgh​ @darnitdraco​ @dobbyjen​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @evelynseventyr​ @gracie7209​ @green-socks​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @hnt-escape​ @icanbeyourjedi​ @justanotherblonde23​ @klaine-92​ @knivesareout​ @lachicapequena​ @leonieb​ @lexi-b-writes​ @liviiii98​ @mariesackler @marvelousmermaid​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @mssarahpaulsooonn @notcookiebelle​ @omlwhatamidoinghere​ @pascalslittlebrat​ @phoenixpascal​ @phrog-seeds @pilothusband​ @princess76179​ @purplepascal042​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @salome-c​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @sleep-tight1​ @soyelfuegoquearde​ @starlightmornings​ @sugarontherims​ @talesfromtheguild​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @voteforpedropascal​ @wheresarizona​ @wille-zarr​

[when-the-feet-hurt]

cw: explicit violence, leg whump, past torture/abuse, pet whump, whumpee turned whumper, whumper turned whumpee,

Whumper sits up in their bed, their flushed face slick with sweat.  “Be a good pet and fetch me some ibuprofen, would you?”  Their voice lacks all the authority it usually has, hoarse and quiet from endless coughing fits.  “And some water as well.”

“Of course.  I’ll get them right away, Master.”  Whumpee bows.  The bell on their collar jingles.

As Whumpee walks down the stairs, they can’t help but smile; all of their efforts are finally bearing fruit.  Long gone are their days of abuse and humiliation.  Karma is coming for Whumper.

Whumpee walks into the kitchen and opens one of the drawers.  Sharp, long knives are stacked on top of each other, shining in the yellow light.  Seeing them sends a shiver down Whumpee’s spine, and they can barely control their excitement—how could they?  These knives are perfect.  It’s such a shame they can only fit one in their waistband.

Turning around, Whumpee assesses the kitchen.  There’s not much else they could use.  Sure, they could use the lighter to give Whumper some awful burns, but Whumper never did anything like that to them.  They favored knives, bats, hammers—

A hammer!  That wouldn’t be hard to fit in their waistband.  If Whumpee remembers correctly, Whumper keeps the hammers in their toolbox, which is tucked inside the closet.  Whumpee practically runs to the closet, slamming the door aside and prying the toolbox open.  They take the hammer on the top.

It’s heavier than Whumpee thought.  Perfect.  There are still some stains on it, back from when Whumper was ‘training’ them to be the perfect pet.  

They’d been so delighted when they’d thought Whumpee broke, praise spewing out of their disgusting mouth as they rubbed Whumpee’s head, saying that they could sleep at the foot of Whumper’s bed instead of the floor now and eat at the table.  Whumpee tries not to vomit.

Slipping the hammer into their waistband, Whumpee turns to go up the stairs.  They weren’t Whumper’s little bitch.  They aren’t Whumper’s little bitch.  They will never be Whumper’s little bitch.

-

“Where is my ibuprofen?” Whumper asks, sitting up and frowning.  It’s funny how they try to demand respect when they look so weak and pathetic.

Whumpee approaches Whumper’s bed and reaches under their waistband.  “I’ve brought something much, much better.”

Whumper sits up, raising a hand to smack Whumpee when they bring the knife out of its hiding place and stab it through Whumper’s hand, pinning it to the bed frame.  Blood slowly trickles out of the wound and down Whumper’s arm.  They thrash around like a fish on land gasping for air, trying to wrench their hand off of the knife.

“Wh-what did you do?!” Whumper screams at Whumpee, baring their teeth like a feral animal.

Whumpee smiles.  They walk closer and pull the hammer out, gripping it tightly.  “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Do you know what you’ve done?  I’ll make you… make you regret the day you were born.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” Whumpee says.  

They raise the hammer and bring it down onto Whumper’s knee, savoring the shrieking and loud crack of bone.  For good measure, Whumpee strikes it again, and blood splatters onto their shirt.  The urge to do it a third time is too strong to resist.  Whumper keeps on howling as Whumpee swings the hammer again and again, blood turning the blue bed sheets into a reddish-brown.

After the seventh or ninth time, Whumpee stops to catch their breath.  They wipe the sweat off their brow.

“I’ll f-fucking kill you,” Whumper spits, saliva dribbling down their chin as they heave.

Whumpee laughs.  “No, I’m going to be the one to kill you.”

They walk over to the other side of the bed and lift the hammer up above their head again, aiming straight for Whumper’s good knee.

[ren-therose]

You Are Like Me (Pt. 1 of "Winter's End)

Roommate!Bucky X F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky begin rooming together after Sam discovers your background and suggests you live with him. . As another failed HYDRA experiment with an enhanced skill set, Sam decides that you, the newest recruit who shares a similar path with the Winter Soldier would benefit from living together.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Cursing, semi-spoilers for FATWS (but nothing plot related, just set during that time).

A/N: This started out as a one-shot for our man Bucky Barnes, but now there will be multiple pieces with this as the wonderful starting piece to the story. I don't know how much the parts will be reliant on a plot, but it will all be based on the same love story throughout. The parts don't necessarily need to be read all together and in order. There will be a variety with this couple, varying from angst to smut, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY shit, and some very depressing stuff too. I hope that these different pieces fulfill all your Bucky needs and help you feel like you really have a developed and copasetic relationship with this lovely gentleman.

"Jesus, who the hell are you?"

I had been laying on a neatly made bed in the apartment Sam had signed me up for. I was staring at the ceiling mindlessly as an old record player spun, emitting the scratchy tones of classic 1940s music. In my hand was a small journal, opened to a blank page towards the middle of the book. My eyes shot open, my hand grabbing a knife from the back of my pants as I launched myself off the bed and towards the unfamiliar man in the doorway.

Before the knife could reach his throat, cool metal met my wrist, stopping my arm in its track. I was practically on top of the dark man in front of me, staring up into his bright cerulean orbs. He seemed almost amused by this first introduction. Almost. The glimmer of humor left his eyes as soon as my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to keel over, as I maneuvered around him to be behind, using his arms hold on me to choke himself.

"I could ask you the same question, blue eyes," I said with a snort. I realized quickly he wasn't an enemy, but the continued power struggle was fun enough to let it play out. Before I could plan my next move though, I was flipped over his broad shoulders, and square on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I looked up through my lashes, trying to focus my eyesight as the splitting headache blurred my vision. Standing above me, the man let out a soft chuckle as he stepped over me, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge. I slowly lifted my head, still dizzy from the landing, as his eyes followed the outline of my body.

I was still in my training clothes, too tired to have changed out of the tight tank top and cargo pants. I had been perfecting my combat technique so that I could fend for myself, but it seems I was not yet ready to fight whoever the stranger in my room was.

"Here," he started, getting up from his place and reaching his right hand out to me. I stared at it for a moment, not sure if I should give in or not, though I could tell I would have to. I placed my hand in his, surprised by the contrasting warmth I felt compared to the hand he had caught my wrist in. He quickly pulled me up, causing me to launch into his chest, my left arm quickly wrapping around his bicep to steady myself.

"You can feel me up later doll, but can you explain what the hell you are doing in my room?" He taunted.

I realized that his colder hand was on the small of my back and I leaned back into grasp as I sneered "I could say the same for you..." I noticed the outline of dog tags imprinted underneath his shirt, glancing back up into his eyes with a wink, "Sarge".

He let go, allowing me the chance to step back and start searching for my knife. I could feel his eyes on me, questions waiting to be asked.

"You are Seragnet Barnes, correct?" I mused, grabbing my weapon from the corner and twirling it in my hand before replacing it in its holster. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile at my maneuver, but quickly looked down and cleared his throat before replying.

"Yes ma'am. And I apologize for not knowing your name, as well as for throwing you," he grunted. It was suddenly a very formal manner in which he spoke. My eyebrow quirked up, as I spun on my heels and made my way into the kitchen, hearing heavy footsteps follow in time.

"Y/N".

"And what are you doing in my room, Y/N?" he said inquisitively. I was now the freezer for an ice pack, finding a floppy blue one in the back.

"I guess, I'm your roommate," I shrugged, putting the ice pack to the back of my head as I moved towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Sam told me I was meeting someone named "Y/L/N", they were gonna stay here for a bit," he retorted, once again following behind.

"That is my last name Blue Eyes. Need an ID or something?" I called over my shoulder, turning the corner to enter the bathroom, reaching towards the medicine cabinet.

"That still doesn't explain why you were on my bed," he scoffed, leaning against the door frame as I scavenged through the drawers.

"I didn't think anyone was living here. I was told I'd have a roommate, but I didn't think anyone had moved in yet. You have, like, no shit here. It looks like a hotel room," I critique, standing up with a shake of the bottle in my hand.

"I'm using your Ibuprofen" I say with mock respect. I move past him as I saunter back towards the kitchen. He can't help but laugh at this bizarre encounter and that I am truly not making this easy for him.

"You have a lot of sass for someone who just had their ass beat," he jeers, leaning forward on the counter between us.

All I could do was smile and shake my head, throwing the pills into my mouth and taking a swig of water.

"So, Y/L/N, why do you figure we Sam is rooming us together?"

"Love match?" I joke, placing the now empty cup in the sink and walking over to his side, leaning my back against the countertop.

He snorts, amused by my sarcasm once more. "Maybe, but I have a feeling it goes deeper," he says, turning to rest his side on the counter as he looks me over, clearly searching for something.

"You aren't gonna find any metal attached to me, Barnes," I report, turning to brace myself against the counter. "They messed me up in here." I gesture to forehead, softly tapping to get my point across.

His face falls as he realizes what I mean.

"HYDRA..." was all he could make out.

"They weren't just trying to make soldiers. They were trying to make spies. Hyper intelligent ones that can be manipulated without the risk of losing control or access, like a computer could. I am their failed experiment," I say softly. I chuck the ice pack into the sink, and make my way over to the window, rubbing at the back of my head.

"You have super soldier serum. I have an acute memory and the ability to calculate probable outcomes and human error. I remember..." I turn back to look him in the eye, "everything".

His mouth slightly gapes as he looks me over. "I was a lethal weapon when placed in sensitive situations. If I knew the possible endings of different scenarios, I could pick which one could happen."

He steps towards me, as if he was considering whether to comfort me. Before he could though, I straightened up and tried to scurry past him.

"I am so sorry for invading your space, I'll take my stuff out of your room. I can stay on the couch until-" The Winter Soldier cut me off, grabbing my arm before I could make it into the room.

"No, take the bed, please," he began. "I don't sleep in it anyways. Too comfy."

My eyes go from the grip on my arm up to his eyes, staring down at me, but with concern. I softened my face, providing a half smile as I nodded my head.

"Okay, Sarge. Let's eat though- I'm starving. You order the pizza while I take a shower. Then we can talk."

He let me go, looking down into my eyes, "I think I know your favorite kind."

I raised a brow at this bet, curious to see if he was right. "Alright...we will see..."

I turned and made my way towards the bathroom, looking back to see him still watching.

---

Shit, I don't have my clothes.

I was dripping from the shower still and my hair was very haphazardly put in a bun to keep the water from dripping. I quietly opened the door and peeked my head out, searching for my new roommate. When I had determined the coast was clear, I scurried into the room, shutting the door behind me quietly. When I turned around, I shrieked to see James exiting my closet, a few shirts in hand.

"What the fuck Barnes!!" I choke, desperately clutching my towel, as I had almost lost my grip. He dropped the shirts to the ground, slapping his hand over his eyes in case I did lose my covering.

"Damn, Y/L/N, let me buy you dinner first!" He laughs, trying to make his way to the door.

"Oh you are SO paying for the pizza now Barnes," I fume, adjusting my towel and making my way to the other side of the bed where my bag was.

"So you're saying I can look?"

"You just scared me, I'm decent you prick". I kneeled down beside the bed, opening my bag to see that all of my clothes were missing.

"Are you. fucking. SHITTING ME?" I curse, banging my already sore head onto the side of the bed.

"What did I do this time," the soldier groans.

"No, it's not you, it's just that...well shit. My clothes are missing."

"Oh yeah. I threw them in the wash for you. You weren't carrying a lot, and it's a force of habit from the old days, I thought they would be done by now but-"

"Sergeant?" I interrupt, seething with rage and a tinge of embarrassment.

"Y/L/N?"

"I don't have any clothes," I hiss.

"oh." he says shortly. I press my face into the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Suddenly, I feel two soft things land on me, causing me to turn my face to the side.

"Sweats and a shirt. Don't do anything weird," he quipped, leaving me in the room alone.

I look down at the black sweats and navy blue shirt. It was soft, and smelled of fabric softener and pine. I looked up at the empty hallway as I heard the front door open and shut behind him as he went to get the pizza.

I slipped on the clothes and looked myself over in the mirror. I decided to let my hair down to air dry, and the rest of me looked swallowed in his clothes. His sweats were pulled tightly around my hips, exposing my stomach when I stood. The shirt would probably be form fitting on him, but it just barely gave me a shape, though my chest clung to the fabric. I didn't know what this meant, but whatever it was felt nice.

---

"I got the pizza, and Sam already confirmed I was right about it being your favorite so..." James trailed off as he saw me standing in the kitchen, leaning over a brochure of sorts. I looked up to see him holding pizza in one hand and soda in the other as his eyes widened at my get up.

"No snappy remark, blue eyes? Wow, they just keep getting wide-" he cut me off by throwing the box down in front of me.

"Movie?" he muttered, quickly making his way past towards the living room.

"uh...okay. Can we watch 'Casablanca'?"

He turned around, looking at me with confusion.

"You know that movie? That was made almost 80 years ago."

"I'm a sucker for the classics, James," I say, grabbing the pizza and soda of the counter and bringing it to the coffee table.

"Bucky, please. We're gonna be living together and already saw you half-naked," he chides, sitting down on the couch and flipping it on with the remote.

"Okay, Bucky, do you remember the plot?" I probe, sitting myself next to him as I placed two glasses in front of us. I pulled my legs up to cross and adjusted the waist of my pants to sit above my stomach more comfortably. He was leaning back into the sofa, as I was turned to face him, waiting patiently for a response.

"I mean, I remember looking back on it and how terribly it depicted the war. It was not easy to find love abroad," he stated, reaching to grab a slice of pizza.

"Were you looking for love?"

"I was looking for fun. I was pretty sure I was gonna die, or at least not make it back. I was kind of right," he finished, biting into the slice.

"Yeah, not a lot of love in present day HYDRA safe-houses either. Not that I had time for it between missions, I say, leaning over to pour the drinks.

"Well what were you before...them?"

"A history student, if you can believe it. Wanted to study abroad and learn about wars, apply it to algorithms to prevent them. Seems like the common denominator was always men," I reply with a wink.

"I can't say you are wrong. But I am impressed. And now..."

"Now, I'm protected by the Avengers, er- what's left of them, and am able to use my skills for good. All of that history knowledge, everything I have ever learned and forgotten about, I can remember it all". I looked him up and down. "I didn't recognize you without the long hair and this stubble thing kinda threw me off, it's not the same as the pictures in the museum".

He adjusted his angle to better face me, curiosity etched across his features. "You really are something," he contended. The comment caused me to pull back, shocked by his honesty.

"I...uh..." I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

"If you're going to say thank you, don't bother. It's just a fact," he noted, once more causing me to fall to silence.

He started looking up the movie, struggling with the technology of the remote.

As I studied him, the tension in his jaw, the stress he carries in his eyes, I realized I shared similar features.

"ты как я," I whisper under my breath, unsure if he even heard me.

You are like me.

I knew when he straightened up, and slowly looked in my direction.

"я знаю," he replied.

I know.

I reached my hand out to his arm, resting it on gently.

"What does this mean?" I asked softly.

"I'm not quite sure."

------

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of deep roast coffee.

Bucky and I had spent almost the entire night talking. We skimmed around the dark parts of our past, knowing that there would be time for that, but instead got to know the things that really shaped who we are today.

He really enjoyed his time in Wakanda. It was incredibly healing for him, and allowed him a chance to find piece, something we ex-soldiers and spies rarely could get. He told me about his life in the 40s, or what he could remember. A lot of his memories has been formed with the help of Steve, which I knew caused him pain. But he also found happiness in retelling those stories, knowing that someone else will see him as more than the Winter Soldier.

I shared my experience abroad. I had been all across the USA, in Canada, both Iceland and Greenland, Poland, France, Italy, Turkey, London, and of course Sokovia. It was were I had been taken during my travels. I had never told anyone about this before, but I had felt so comforted knowing that he had been through something so similar.

I don't know when, but at some point in the night, I had ended up falling asleep propped up on the couch. When I woke up in my bed the next morning, I realized it must have been him. I looked down to see I was still wearing his shirt, and smiled to myself. When I got up, I found his sweats on the floor, knowing I probably kicked them off when I got into bed. I stepped back into them, pulling them up around my legs and tying them once more on my hips. I looked in the mirror, my hair limp and flat from sleep. Checking my phone, I walked out, scratching my head and rubbing my face, yawning as the coffee smell grew stronger.

"доброе утро," he greets me, smirking at the confused face I made.

"No Russian. Too early. Try again later," I mumbled, jumping up to sit on the counter. He held up the sugar, shaking it in my face.

"Two to three teaspoons please," I groan, pushing the container out of my face.

"Someone likes it sweet," he laughs, dumping in my unhealthy request.

"And creamer, if you have some," I added, smiling as he turned towards the fridge.

"Did you know you speak Russian in your sleep?"

"I bet you do the same. All HYDRA escapees probably," I mutter, taking the mug from his hands.

"Well, you will have to let me know sometime," he chides, taking a sip of his own black coffee.

"Last night was...."

"Traumatizing?"

"Yeah, but maybe healing too?"

"Good," he exclaims, walking over to the couch. He sits down, swiping his phone off the charger next to him.

"Before you have to go, do you want some breakfast?" I offer, scanning his response to my inquiry.

"Is that your power thing? You knew they would ask me to work today?" He questions, looking down at the phone and then back at me.

"It's a skill, not a power. I'm not a superhero," I laugh, getting out the contents for a breakfast sandwich.

"Yes, I would like one. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"No skills required. Tony texted me this morning too. We are training together."

He smiled. He almost looked excited.

"I'm gonna beat your ass again Y/L/N".

"You wish".

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

Every day, we played out the same routine.

I would wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I'd come out, thank him and proceed to make us breakfast. We would then go to combat training for a few hours. When he wasn't helping me, he was working on his own workout routine; often, he would put aside time to just focus on improving my knife skills. He would always joked that I showed promise after out first encounter, and then would promptly beat my ass in a knife fight.

After training, it would be time to meet Sam for lunch, chat about our personal lives (which were rarely separated from our work), as well as current issues in the Avengers, and the world.

Bucky always stayed close by when we were out and about, glancing over to make sure I was okay. I would signal back that it was okay, smiling as a way of thanks when I noticed him checking. The only time we went our separate ways for our "rehab plans" we called jokingly. He would go see his therapist while I went and saw mine. Then, he would meet Sam for a bit by himself, while I went back to our place and did paperwork. When he came home, we would decide on dinner and a movie, but would probably stay up the whole night talking and leaving the movie with at least 20 minutes to go (on a good night).

One night, after I had "magically" ended up in bed, I woke up to Bucky shaking me, yelling my name.

"Y/N! Y/N, it's me, it's Bucky! Come on Y/N, wake up!"

I was drenched in sweat and my voice felt coarse and raw. My heart was beating at an impossible rate, as I shot up to hold on to him.

"Y/N, it's okay, you're okay," he said, trying to calm me down as he pushed my wet hair off of my face. I was gripping his arms, trying my best to ground myself. My eyes were bloodshot and wet, as tears and sweat mixed down my face. His blue eyes were frantically searching me, making sure that I was okay.

"It was them Bucky, they were here, they were gonna hurt you, I couldn't move, they said the, they said the words Bucky, jesus I was gonna lose you Buck, I couldn't, I can't..." I trailed off, starting to hyperventilate as I buried my face in his chest, allowing him to pull me closer.

He held me against him, shushing me as he ran his hand through the back of my hair. His chin rested atop my head as I regained control of my breathing. As my heart rate lowered and the sound of blood rushing through my ears subsided, I heard him say softly:

"I could never leave you Y/N, I can't...you mean to much to me..."

I didn't know if he realized I heard him, but it made me relax into him a little more. We didn't move for I don't know how long, just holding each other, breathing in sync. I could feel myself start to get sleepy, and began to slump more and more into him. He could feel the wait of me on his chest, and softly laid me back into the bed. When I was settled in, he started to scoot backwards towards the edge of the bed, before I grabbed his arm.

"Stay. Please. Stay," I barely whispered.

He looked down at me, tucked under the covers in an oversized t-shirt with my hair a crazy mess around my face. My eyes were glassy and red from crying, but my grip on his arm was sure.

"Please Buck."

I pulled back the covers next to me, signaling the invitation that I meant it.

He was only in a T-Shirt and boxers in himself, but nevertheless, he climbed in anyways. As he slid down, I pulled myself into him, hugging his torso as the scent of his fabric softener filled my nose.

He wrapped his arm under my head and around me, the other to my back, sheltering me from my nightmares as I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up, my head was resting on top of his chest, his hand still in my hair. I could count his steady heartbeats over time, our breathing once more in time together. I glanced up to see his stubbly face, in a serene sleep. I had heard him up late at night, wandering in the living room. I am sure he had nightmares like me, but I was the unlucky one to have the first terror while we were roommates.

I couldn't help but realize that he put a shirt on.

He never wore a shirt to sleep.

I knew this because I had woken up a time or two to go to the bathroom, and he would be there, on the floor, practically shining as the moonlight radiated off of his skin. It was almost impressive.

So he put a shirt on when he came in to help me last night. I guess it is respectful of him. I mean, everything about last night, or at least what I could remember, made me feel safer than I had in a very long time. Bucky always made me feel safe, but now, lying on his chest, it was deeper than two former soldiers-it was intimate.

I couldn't stop myself, I inched slightly up, lifting my head to his face, practically nose to nose. I could feel him exhale as the air left his nose and tickled my face. I leaned down, just off to the right side of his mouth and softly kissed him. I couldn't kiss him on the lips, but I needed to put it out there, even if he was asleep. I laid back down next to him, facing the ceiling as I felt him softly stir next to me. I tried to discreetly roll away, my body turned away from him, screwing my eyes closed.

I could feel the bed shift underneath me as he awoke. I could feel him leaning over me, checking to see that I was "asleep". Then, I felt his lips on my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

"You can't get away with it that easily Y/N"

My eyes slowly opened, as if afraid I would see it was all a dream, and he wouldn't be there. Instead, he was looking down at me, his head cocked to the side with a crooked smile dancing on his lips. Concern was etched on my brow, though my mouth betrayed me in a half smile as I stared back at the blue eyed soldier.

"I uh-I didn't, uh, mean to wake you Bucky, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I stuttered out, worried that I might have made him feel pressured to return the favor.

I was surprised when his arm reached for my waist, pulling me from my side to my back as he rested his hands on either side of me. Trapped underneath him, my train of thought was so far off the rails, my ability to even speak was completely hijacked.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for you to do something like that," he confessed. I quivered underneath him, my only response to his words. He was now hovering above my torso, propped up on his forearms as he continued to ramble.

"I never wanted to pressure or impose anything against you. I thought that you felt it too, and I wanted to be a gentleman, but with last night and you wanting me to stay, and now this morning..., I just wanted to make sure that I am reading the signals right an-"

He was cut off by my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up to my face where our noses connected once more. His eyes were piercing, searching mine frantically before I closed them and pulled him down. Our lips attached to one another, fitting together softly, one on top of the other. His arm slid underneath my back and pressed me into him as my arm wrapped around his neck, my other hand holding his face. I could feel the metal against my waist, but it was warmer than usual, probably due to being under the covers all night. After years of torture and pain for the both of us, this kiss made terrors of that night worth it. It brought him and I together.

As we pulled away, our lips still stuck to the others until there was enough distance to truly focus our eyesight on the other. Pupils dilated, chests rising and falling against each other, our status shifted from roommates to something more in seconds. Maybe we were always something more and we hadn't realized it until now. But none of the what ifs mattered now. Now, there was a certainty that Bucky and I had a future together.

-------

A/N: This made me cry. A lot. The angst, the coping skills, the little sparks of chemistry. I just love writing about this man. He is everything a girl could ask for. I will start writing a part two tomorrow and I can promise you, it is about to be a lot cuter, a lot smuttier, and a lot more BUCKKKYYYY.

Taglist: @n3ssm0nique @arctic-duchess @bluemoon-icecream

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 2

After your shower which made you feel a little better than before as the act of cleaning the accruing sweat and radiating germs from your body. Your next step was hoisting yourself out of the shower base and to a position you can dry your body and get dressed. This would be an awfully awkward thing for your teacher to help you with, so this task left you on your own. 

It took a little bit of time and effort but eventually, you did manage to dry your body. The next step was to put the fresh clothes Aizawa left for you on your body, they were definitely comfortable and comforting. This took a little less bit of energy but still took a lot. After sitting for a moment on the seat on the toilet you stood up to face your weakness and the overpowering world spinning. 

You open the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly make your way down a hallway holding on to the wall for added support. It wasn’t long until you heard the quick steps of your professor coming from what you could assume was the kitchen in order to give you added support and led you over to a couch already made with pillows and a new blanket which made you frown slightly.

In your moment of help, you couldn’t help feeling a little guilty, “Y/N, you should have gotten my attention, and I would have been helped you sooner so you didn’t exert nearly as much energy and strength.”

Picking up on your frown Azaiwa said, “it’s just in the wash, I figured it would help and it would make it a little softer. Same thing with your clothes”

“Oh okay, thanks,” you responded weakly.

He stood in front of you and crouched down to your sitting level, “Do you think you could eat a little soup for me kid? It’s chicken noodle so it’s going to be easy on you. I know you’re not the biggest rice fan.”

Aware that you hadn’t eaten in a few days you responded, “Yeah I can try.”

As he walks away you begin to acknowledge how cold you feel but you know it’s a drawback of your fever. Truthfully you didn’t want to eat anything, what you wanted was to curl up in that blanket and sleep, but you weren’t about to let Azaiwas cooking efforts go to waste, and you putting it off any longer probably wouldn’t help your case either, so complying seemed like your best option here. In your slowed thinking you hadn’t realized Azaiwa was just arriving in front of you holding two bowls preparing to hand one to you.

You took the bowl with the spoon in it and were surprised to see your teacher taking a seat in front of you on the floor looking up at you with his own soup which confused you slightly. Had you not been sick and unable to concentrate or focus you may be able to comprehend what he was doing.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to eat by yourself, makes it a little less awkward, plus I’m a little hungry myself,” he said in his gruff normal monotone voice.

“Thanks for that, it actually means a lot,” you replied before taking a spoonful of the soup and eating it.

The meal took place in silence, you slowly eating your chicken noodle soup not wanting to rush yourself as you weren’t really all that hungry plus it felt like a lot of food. As Azaiwa eats his own he examines you in your sick form, He couldn’t help but feel responsible for this, he did push his students as far as they could but he didn’t see just how much he was taking and pushing Y/N. He tried not to show favoritism among his students, but he couldn’t help but care for you as though you were his own child. Really he just wanted you to be happy.

Spooning soup into his mouth, he began to think about the information he had read in your file over the years. He knew that your home life wasn’t all that great. Evidence that you were often left alone for days alone with no real-life knowledge of how to take care of yourself and a house. Your mom was an alcoholic and would have repeating men over that would verbally abuse you, and you did live with anxiety and major depression, but you didn’t know that he knew, all because it was in your student file. He remembered that he is going to have to do some updating to it now that he knows symptoms of the overuse of your quirk.

He noticed you had put your bowl in your lap looking down as though you were deep in thought, perhaps even getting down on yourself. Until he saw that you managed to eat only half the soup he had given you. As he quickly finished his bowl he then proceeded to stand up and gently take the bowl from you.

“Hey kid, it’s alright, you managed to eat something, we can do this again later when you feel up to it okay? I’m proud you made it this far.”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly to demonstrate your agreement on the matter.

After taking them back to his kitchen and in the sink the teacher sighed, he knew you felt terrible, but he was hoping for a little improvement on this, but this just showed you were working on it. He walked back into the living room and saw you still in the same position as before just sitting in a dazed state, but now he noticed your visible shivering from the fever you no doubt had. He put a hand on your forehead and once again you leaned into is getting a little bit of pleasure from the coldness to you. What he noticed was that you felt warmer than you had before and sighed. 

He walked away and headed to the bathroom and into a medicine cabinet. He grabbed a thermometer and ibuprofen and Tylenol, unsure of what would help the circumstances more. Once he got back to you he crouched down in front of you again as you hugged yourself giving the illusion of creating a little warmth.

“Y\N, I need you to open your mouth and stick this under your tongue so I can check your temperature, okay? See what we’re working with.”

As it beeped he discovered the results were very undesirable, 102.4 degrees Fahrenheit, starting to get into dangerous levels. The time was approximately 6:00 in the morning and right about now would usually be preparing to train you in combat before classes for the day, but today is different for the obvious reasons. The teacher sighed as he debated on the blanket or not, but it would make you more comfortable so he left it for you,

“Alright, kid, why don’t you lay down and get some sleep. You’re staying here for the time being at least until I deem you well enough to go back to your dorm. Now, what works better for a fever reducer for you, ibuprofen or Tylenol?” he said and asked as he held the bottles up.

After releasing a small cough you responded with, “Tylenol works better for me.”

And with a quick motion, he took two out of the bottle and handed them to you take along with a bottle of water. You gave him a small smile of gratitude. And after you swallowed he set the bottles down and helped guide you to laying down knowing that to you, you must feel incredibly heavy and weak. Started with your upper body making sure your head hit the pillow, then helped lift your legs onto the cushions. He proceeded to take the blanket and placing it on top of your frame to provide that extra bit of comfort.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up, if I’m not in here directly find a way to let me know.”

“Okay Mr. Azaiwa, but what about classes today, shouldn’t you be there instead of here taking care of silly old me?” you said with a small laugh that leads to a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll figure it out, right now you are my priority. Now go to sleep little one”:

And with that, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed as you snuggled into the couch and pillow while wrapping yourself in the provided blanket. He sighed and took another look at the time, Roughly a quarter after 6. He knew Present Mic would be around in a little over an hour and a half as the human alarm clock with his projecting voice for teachers and students. He knew he was going to have to stop him this time since he knew you really needed the uninterrupted sleep and he knew it was essential to getting you healthy. In the meantime, he decided it was in his best interest to take a small nap and unwrapped one of his many sleeping bags and laid down in it on the floor next to you.

In about an hour and 15 minutes he woke up and got up to wait in the hallway to see Present Mic and ask him to not do his normal routine and explain the situation. Later in the day, he had plans to retrieve your laptop to email your professors at the American college and also speak to principle Nezu to alert him of the situation at hand, also he was supposed to alert him anytime a modification was to be made to a students file.

After a few more minutes Present Mic exited his room and was surprised to see his friend already out of his room and headed over to him.

“Hey Hizashi, anyway I can talk you out of doing your normal wake up routine?” Azaiwa asked.

“I mean sure, but why?” the other teacher proceeded to ask.

“I’ve got a very sick student crashing on my couch right now. She has been overworking herself and been trying to function on next to no sleep and forgot to eat in the mix of it. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N would it? She’s the American girl also working on her college degree right?” Hizashi asked.

“Yeah, that’s the student. I guess she at the end of the semester and is struggling a bit. I think she’s also been depending on her quirk more and has been overusing it. Speaking of which, you know how the symptoms of that were missing from her student file? Well, I finally found out tonight.”

“Well shit man, what are they?”

“From the information, she gave me they are usually a lack of focus, occasional headache, and often night terrors and the extra fatigue. I’ll be going to Nezu here in a bit since it will be a modification to her file.”

“Alright man, I’ll spread the news to ask I wake the other teachers up.”

“Thanks for that Hizashi, and would you mind helping out covering my classes today. I want to keep a close eye on the kid. Has a fever of 102 degrees and is really struggling,” Awaiza asked to hope for the best.

“Yeah no problem Shota, just take care of the kid and let me know if you need anything else from me,” and with that, he walked off to start his morning wake-up calls.

With this taken care of, he proceeded to walk back into the apartment and see Y/N still sleeping soundly and decided to crawl back into his sleeping back, hoping to achieve some sleep himself, as he too needed some sleep in order to help her.

[bungou-stray-dingus]

hey!! Can I request chuuya and dazai with a s/o that’s on her period and she has to go through period cramps? I really love your writing a lot hehe

a/n : I hope you enjoy this! I added a little bonus part for this request and I hope you like the little bonus. If you do like the bonus, please don't hesitate to ask for more pieces that include bonus parts. Also.. F*** AN ANGRY UTERUS! I hate period cramps, they are awful. Much Love, DINGUS!

Dazai

When he walked in he was used to you being there to greet him with a warm smile, a hug, and a brief kiss before pulling him to the couch to cuddle with him. That's why he slightly panicked, his eyes scanning the living room before landing on the small form on the couch covered with multiple blankets. He walked over to inspect and he saw you there, your lips turned down in a little pout, your brows pulled together and your grip on the edge of the blanket tightened as another cramp began.

"Is it that time again?" He asked, squatting down next to you. You had on one of your hoodies, the hood pulled up and the strings drawn so the hood closed in around your face. He thought you looked adorable, especially when your bottom lip jutted out and you slowly nodded your head. "I'll order some take out, and we'll just relax for the evening, how about that?" You perked up a little and he kissed the tip of your nose before standing up straight.

He had been with you long enough to know that your period would have you out of commission for the amount of time it lasted. The pain it caused differed every month, sometimes your cramps wouldn't have any affect on you at all, they were small and didn't cause you much pain. Other times they'd have you doubled over in pain, crying as you wrapped your arms around your abdomen, your breath coming out as hisses through your teeth. This seemed like one of the latter times, and he knew that the most awful cramps lasted the first two or three days.

He always did his best to help comfort you through these times every month, whether it be with extra cuddles and kisses or with jokes that most other people would think are stupid and ridiculous. He didn't fully understand how much pain you were in, but he hated seeing you even wince whenever you got a cramp. He wasn't the biggest fan of pain himself, and seeing his beautiful belladonna in so much pain hurt him just as much.

He cared about you a lot, but he also wanted to use your period to his advantage as well. You would scoff at him from your small cocoon of blankets on the couch when he would call Kunikida and tell him that he couldn't come into work because you were on your period. Since it was Dazai, he didn't really care if Kunikida said no and he would end up staying home with you anyway. It was only during the beginning of your period though, and on those days he would grab all the blankets from around the house and wrap the two of you in them. You would rest your head on his chest and he would help hold the heating pad on your stomach, the blankets were wrapped tightly around the two of you, only your heads peaking out from the tops. He would rent a bunch of movies and marathon them with you all morning and afternoon, only getting up to reheat the pad on your stomach or when either of you had to use the restroom.

After the movie marathon was over he would carefully move you off his chest (which was very hard considering how tightly wound the blankets were) and go to the kitchen to either start making dinner or just order something to eat. You would watch him with lidded eyes, trying to fight off sleep as he worked over the stove. He would curse under his breath whenever he got burnt or something taste as he had expected. Usually you two would end up eating carry out in the end, he wasn't the best chef, but it was the thought that counts and you appreciated the attempt none the less.

After eating he would clean up the mess, it was the only time he willingly did all the cleaning, it showed you that he cared and that he loved you. He wasn't the most cleanly person, and when you weren't on your period you would do most (all) the cleaning around the apartment, so you slightly enjoyed having the small break, even if it came with the horrendous cramps.

He would run you a warm bath so that you could fully relax before bed, and whether you wanted him in there with you or not, he would either have a towel in the drier warming up for when you get out, picking out your comfiest pajamas and having the bed set up for you to quickly climb into and fall asleep. If he was in the bathroom with you, he would have a warm rag, holding it against your neck while rubbing soothing circles into your scalp. He would have a few candles lit, burning on the sink counter and the edges of the bathtub, anything to help your mind and your body relax.

All in all, he's very supportive and caring of you when you're on your period, and he just wants you to be in as little pain as possible. He wouldn't hover, but he'd make sure that you had everything you need, plus a couple smaller things that he thought would make you feel a little better, anything to make that little pout on your face turn into a smile.

Chuuya

He knew exactly when your period was due. The dates were marked in his calendar on his phone months before, he had calculated them all accordingly. Not only was it so that he knew when to be stocked up on pads or tampons or both, but also so he knew what days to prepare for your menstrual induced hormone changes. Chuuya knew that your cramps were painful, and he made sure that there was enough Midol and Ibuprofen in the house to last through your entire period.

When he got the alert on his phone that your period was due he was sure to text you immediately. If you said anything about cramping or being in pain he would drop everything at work and come to you, pulling you into his arms as soon as he saw you, pressing kisses along any open skin he could find. "Is my princess in pain?" He whisper, dragging his lips along the shell of your ear. It didn't help that you were far more sensitive to his touch when your hormones were raging, but when he was doing these types of things it made it hard for you to remember that you were bleeding. That is, until another cramp set in and your hands would move up to your abdomen, feeling like the only way to keep yourself from breaking in half was to use your hands to hold yourself together.

You nodded slowly, biting your bottom lip as you waited for the pain to subside. He walked you to the bedroom and helped you into the bed, giving your the fluffiest pillows to prop your head up on. As soon as he knew you were comfortable he would run to the bathroom, grabbing the heating pad from underneath the sink and fill it with warm water. He carefully placed it on your lower abdomen and watched as you took a deep breath, feeling the warmth run through your body and soothe your angry uterus. "You know, I could stop this for nine months if you'd like..." Chuuya said, and you weren't sure if he was serious or if he was joking. His voice was always so stern, so you could never tell when he was being sarcastic and if this was one of those moments.

"Don't make me laugh, it hurts." You said, rolling your eyes at him. He shrugged before kissing your forehead and getting up off the bed. "Well, the offer still stands. How about you get some sleep." He said while tucking you in. He walked out of the room, but how could you possibly sleep with what he said fresh in your mind? Sure, periods sucked and they were painful, but they were definitely not as painful as labor and growing an entire child in your womb.

He sat on the couch and pulled out his phone, he wanted to get you some things, things that would brighten your day. He couldn't exactly make the cramps go away, not right now at least, but he could at least get you stuff to make you smile, make you happy, maybe even forget about the pain for a little bit.

After he finished ordering the items he slid his phone back into his pocket and went to the kitchen. He pulled out the recipe for your favorite meal and began cooking. He wasn't the greatest chef in the world, but he knew how to flavor things well enough that they tasted good, and he didn't burn down the entire apartment complex.

He kept the bedroom door cracked open so he would be able to hear even the slightest whimper of pain from you. If he did, he would turn off the burners and rush into the room, kneeling on the floor next to the bed and holding your hand, helping you breathe through the cramp. He would get a wash clothe and run it under cold water to dampen it before placing it on your forehead. He knew that you would sometimes work up a sweat when your cramps got really bad, and he wanted nothing more than for you to be comfortable.

When he finished cooking dinner, if your periods were really bad, he would serve you your dinner in bed. He would sit next to you, both your legs stretched out, balancing your plates on your laps. He would have his laptop in between both your legs, loading up either your favorite movies or watching YouTube videos that would make you chuckle lightly. He adored your laughter, and he loved hearing it, especially after hearing your whimpers of pain, it let him know that you were okay.

After eating he would take your plate and stack it on his and place it on the bedside table, he would get to it later, all he wanted to do now was hold you close against him. Chuuya cuddles always helped you to forget about your cramps, and sometimes, almost like it was magic, having his arms around you was better pain relief than the pills in the cabinet. You would bury your face in his chest while he sang to you softly, the vibrations in his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, and the soothing tone of his voice all mixed together was enough to have you falling fast asleep.

He would cradle you a little longer before slipping his arm out from underneath you ever so carefully, making sure to not wake you with the movement. He would clean up the dinner mess, not wanting to leave anything out that you would try to clean yourself. He didn't want you to feel like you had to strain yourself while you were on your period, even if you told him that you wanted to help clean he would quickly object your offer and tell you to go get comfortable on the couch or in the bed. After he finished cleaning he would make his way back into the bedroom, his arms outstretched, knowing that you would habitually gravitate towards the warmth of his body. When you did move into his arms they would enclose you, keeping you close against him, his lips softly brushing against your temple, your forehead, and your cheeks before he allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

Chuuya... this boy... he wanted only the best for his Queen. If you were in pain, he would do anything to stop it. (That offer of stopping it for nine months was legit, he would do ANYTHING). You could ask this boy for anything and he would do it. Hugs? GOT IT! Cuddles? He's already on the couch with his arms outstretched waiting for you. Kisses? Honey you don't need to ask, his lips are on yours before you can even ask. Everything he does for you is done out of love, and he fricking LOVES you.

[avengerscompound]

One Night In Vegas

One Night in Vegas: An Iron Man Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Square:  @iron-man-bingo - Accidentally Married, @marvelfluffbingo - Woke up Married

Rating:  M

Warning:  Talk of sex, aftermath of drinking and drug use.

Word Count:  2753

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You wake up in a Vegas suite with Tony Stark wearing the biggest diamond ring you’ve seen in your life.  The two of you then try and piece the night together.

One Night In Vegas

You woke up with your head pounding and your eyelashes stuck together.  Not that you particularly wanted to open your eyes.  You wanted to pass out again and hopefully, sleep through until your headache was gone.

Unfortunately, along with the pounding, there was nausea that was starting to get to the unbearable point and you could already feel the bile rising in your throat.  You were going to throw up, and you had to work out how you were going to get untangled from whoever it was you were currently tangled up with.

You pried your eyes open slowly.  The room was filled with the bright light of the desert sun outside and your eyes did not seem to want to adjust to it.  You groaned and tried to pull away from whoever was clinging to you like a koala.  When your eyes finally adjusted you saw it was Tony and let out a sigh of relief.  Your relationship with Tony wasn’t exactly conventional but the idea of waking up with a stranger when you were as blackout wasted as you got last night was not one you were a fan of.

He grumbled and seemed to tighten up around you more and you pushed him.  “Let me up.”  You whined.

He let you go, rolling over and grunting as you stumbled out of the circular bed and ran to the bathroom, dropping to your knees on the marble floor and emptying your stomach.

Last night had been… well, you weren’t even sure.  It had started with a few rounds of poker in the high rollers lounge.  You had a reservation at Scotch 80 Prime though so you had to leave before too much money had either been lost or made so that Tony could have his wish of eating his way through a $100 steak and drink $50 glasses of whiskey.

After that, you had gone to Tao.  There had been dancing and drinking, both with Tony and without.  Then after that was a big blank space of time.  You had no idea how you had managed to get back to the hotel.

You sat by the toilet for a while, after you’d finished throwing up and then dry-heaving.  All you could do was just keep your eyes closed and your forehead pressed to the cold marble wall.  You might have dozed off even, it was hard to tell.  When you finally got up, you flushed and went to rinse your mouth out.  It was when you were washing your hands you saw the ring.

The fact you hadn’t realized it was there up until then was a little shocking on its own.  The thing was huge.  It had a large rectangular-cut diamond in the middle with similar diamonds cascading down the platinum band in smaller and smaller sizes.  Assuming it was real - and it probably was - it would have cost a fortune.  It was sitting on the ring finger of your left hand and you had no memory of even getting given it.

You splashed your face with water and went back out to the bedroom.  “Tony?”  You said, quietly at first, going to sit on the sofa opposite the circular bed.

He was sprawled out on his stomach with just the sheet over his naked ass and he grumbled in response to you.

“Tony?”  You repeated, a little louder this time.

He rolled over covering his eyes and groaning, though once he was on his back he seemed to just fall back to sleep.

“Tony!”  You shouted, immediately regretting the decision.  The sound split through your skull and you clutched your forehead in your hands.

“Why are you yelling?”  Tony whined.

“Did you propose to me last night?”

Tony sat up and blinked at you slowly.  “I don’t think so.  I hadn’t planned to ask you to marry me anyway.”

“Then where did this come from?”  You said, holding up his hand.

He looked at the ring on your finger and then at your face before getting up and hobbling towards you, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and slipping them on as he came over, sighing in relief once they were in place.

He flopped down next to you and took your hand.  “You’d think with all the drinking I’ve done in my life I wouldn’t get hangovers anymore.  What the fuck did we do last night?”

“Got engaged, apparently.”  You said.  “This was you, right?”

He scrunched up half his face.  “It’s a little much.  So I guess so.  I really don’t remember anything.”

“Did somebody roofie us?”  You asked.  “It’s seriously blank.”

Tony chuckled.  “Yeah, they slipped us a roofie, made me buy a ring, pop the question, then put us in bed together.”

“This is so weird.”  You said lying down with your head in his lap.  He gently stroked his fingers through your hair.  “I guess… we should figure out where you got it from and return it?”

“What?  You need a bigger ring?”  He teased.

You snorted, and immediately pinched the bridge of your nose.  “I need pain killers and water.”

“Yeah.  That could help.  I’ll call the butler to get us something, and food.  Greasy food.  We can take a shower in the meantime.”  He said.

You got up and he smacked your ass as you headed to the bathroom, he picked up the phone.  You turned the shower on and took off the ring and put it on the counter.  You had been with Tony for years and years now.  Marriage had never once come up, so a drunken proposal seemed so out of character.  You tapped the ring like you were checking it was real and then got in under the hot water, turning your face up to it and opening your mouth as it cascaded down on you.

It wasn’t long until Tony was stepping in behind you.  His arms circled your waist and he rested his forehead against your shoulder.  “I’m either never drinking again or I’m drinking as soon as I get out of the shower.  I haven’t decided.”

You laughed softly and he started to wash your hair.  “Did you want to get married, Tony?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment.  He just kept massaging your scalp until you made a strangled gurgling sound.  He chuckled and kissed your shoulder.  “Why do you not want to take the ring back?”

“No, I absolutely want to take the ring back.  If we ever do get engaged, it’s not going to be when I’m blackout drunk.”  You said.

Tony took a breath and you turned to face him.  “Is saying I really don’t actually give a shit and okay answer?”  He asked.

You nodded.  “Yeah, of course.  No wrong answers.”

“Good.  Because weird as it might seem, I really don’t.  I love you and it’s you and me.  If getting married was something that was important to you, we’d already be married.  I just don’t care about the whole thing enough to bother.”

You nodded again.  This wasn’t exactly a shock.  Neither of you had ever talked about getting married.  It did beg one question though.  “So, what the fuck is with the ring?”

“I have no idea.  I’ll get FRIDAY to take us over our steps last night.  It’ll be like watching the hangover, only staring us.”

You laughed and pecked his lips, before stepping under the water and rinsing your hair out.  “This is going to be scary.”

“You’re telling me.”  Tony teased.

You finished the shower and got out, drying off and changing into some sweats.  You moved the ring to the in-room safe for safekeeping and then when out to the hall.  Looking downstairs at the living and bar area of the suite was like looking down on a war zone where the primary weapons used were glitter and bottles.  It had been trashed and there were already maids going around and cleaning up.  You groaned and shook your head.  The Butler that had been assigned to your suite greeted you both at the bottom of the stairs.  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Stark.  Mr. Hogan and Colonel Rhodes are both waiting for you at the dining table.”

“Rhodey’s here?”  Tony asked, looking both confused and delighted as he almost skipped off to the dining area.

You went to follow after him when the butler stopped you.  “Mrs. Stark?”

You turned and looked at him.  It wouldn’t be the first time someone had called you that.  “I’m not Mrs. Stark.”  You corrected him.

“My apologies.  It was what you asked me to call you when you came in last night.”  He said and before you could even unpack that bit of information he was handing you a bottle. “For your headache.  And I took the liberty of having your dress dry cleaned.”

“My dress?”  You asked.

“Your wedding dress.  You left it on the stairs.”

Your eyes went wide and you lurched towards the living room, fumbling to uncap the lid of the bottle of ibuprofen you were holding.  “Tony!”  You yelled.

You stumbled into the room to be greeted by the bemused looking Rhodey and Happy and a confused looking Tony.

“What is it, dear?”  Tony asked.

“There’s the blushing bride!”  Rhodey teased.

Tony’s head snapped around and he stared slack-jawed at his best friend.  “The what now?”

“The bride.  You guys got married last night.  You don’t remember?”  Rhodey answered, seeming to be fully aware that the two of you had no idea what happened last night.

“Someone had better fill us in on what the hell you’re talking about,”  Tony said and fixed his eyes on Happy.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”  Happy asked, and shoveled a forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth.

“Dancing at Tao.” You said as you finally got the bottle cap off the pills and tipped some into your palm.  You downed them with orange juice, drinking it straight from the pitcher.

“Yeah, Tao for me too,”  Tony said.

“Alright.  So you gotta forgive me because it can be hard to keep track of the two of you when you go on one of your little escapades.  You were drinking a lot.  Even for you, boss.  You kept sneaking off to the bathrooms.  Pretty sure to fuck.  I think but I don’t know, you might have taken e.  Because after one trip in you came back extra level loving on everything and rubbing your faces on things like cats.”  Happy explained and took a sip of his coffee.

Tony has snatched the pills off you and downed some with coffee.

“So,”  Happy continued.  “You started both waxing poetic about how in love you were and how much better at being a couple you were than every other couple in the world because you ‘got’ each other.  You said,” He said pointed at you.  “That you were better than every married couple because they just had to shackle each other and you two were free with your love.”

He swung his arm so he was pointing at Tony.  “You said, that because you were so much better than every married couple you should probably just get married and that any wedding you had would be better than any wedding anyone else had ever had.  You then demanded we go and find a jeweler so you could get her a ring.”

“Oh no,”  Tony said.

“Oh yes.”  Happy said.  “I drove you around for a bit hoping you might sober up but you kept drinking in the car and telling me to hurry up because your love needed to be acknowledged.  I found a jeweler.  You bought the biggest fucking ring they had that also fit.  You dropped to your knee in the jeweler and proposed right away.”

“Oh god.”  You groaned.

Happy nodded and had another mouthful of his breakfast as you poured your first cup of coffee and Tony poured his second.

“So then you said,” he said gesturing to you with his fork.  “That your love was too big to wait, that it had to be announced to the world now.  You agreed,” he poked his fork in Tony’s direction.  “So you bought wedding bands and made me take you dress and suit shopping.”

“This is where I got the phone call,”  Rhodey interjected.  “Not from either of you, I might add.  Happy called me freaking out.  He knew that you would probably regret this but he hadn’t been able to talk you out of it.  I got in my War Machine armor and high-tailed it over.”

“I had hoped that at some point you would sober up and stop but no, you kept getting champagne everywhere we went.  I seriously don’t know how you don’t have alcohol poisoning.  When you had your dress and suit you made me find a chapel.  You specifically wanted to be married by Elvis.”  Happy explained.

“Fuck!” Tony groaned, letting his head fall back as he rubbed his temples.

“I arrived just in time to be your witness,”  Rhodey explained.  “There was no talking you out of it.  Then you came back here and had a ‘reception’.  Which was just random strangers drinking and partying until you guys went up to bed and passed out and we kicked everyone out.”

“Jesus.”  You hissed.

“Yep.  So that’s what happened last night.  I think I’m banning you from the state of Nevada quite frankly, Tones.”  Rhodey said.

“Shutting that gate after the horses have bolted, huh, platypus?”  Tony said without raising his head.

No one said anything for a bit.  Rhodey and Happy just finished up their breakfast while you and Tony just slumped in your chair.

Finally, you sat up straight and began to put food onto a plate.  “I guess we’re married then.”

Tony huffed and started doing the same.  “Guess we are.  Oh well.”  He said.  “Alright, So we release a statement saying we eloped to avoid a media frenzy and it was just us and our closest friends?”

“Ha!”  Happy barked.  “Nice try, boss.  But you live-streamed it.”

Tony groaned and banged his head on the table.  “Of course I did.”

“It had over three million viewers.”

Tony straightened back up and adjusted his glasses.  “Alright let’s see it.”

Rhodey chuckled, clearly delighted by proceedings and flicked his phone open.  He clicked on it a few times and flicked the screen so the giant TV that looked over the room turned on and shaky footage of an extremely happy Tony standing at the end of an aisle next to an Elvis impersonator.  The bridal waltz started up and the screen swung around to show you walking down the aisle.

“Does my dress have LED lights in it?”  You asked.

“It sure does!” Rhodey teased.

“You said it made you feel like a magical princess.”  Happy added.

“Always a look I aspire to.”  You deadpanned.  “Good god, this is mortifying.”

“We do look happy though.  Look at how in love we are.”  Tony said.

You smiled and leaned against his shoulder.  “Yeah, we do look happy.”

You watched through the ceremony, experiencing your wedding for what felt like the first time.  The smiles never left your faces and when Elvis said ‘kiss the bride’, Tony dipped you.

“Aww, you’re cute.”  You said.

“You are,”  Tony shot back.

You leaned in and kissed him gently, and he cupped your jaw, deepening it just a little.  When you pulled back the smile on his face was mirrored by the one on yours.

“If we bought wedding bands, where are they?”  You asked.

Happy fished in his pocket pulling out two matching platinum bands.  “You asked to have a photo of them taken with the flowers and then forget to get them back.”  He said handing them over.

You each took them and slipped them on your ring finger and then held them up as you assessed them.

“Guess we better call the kids and tell them mommy and daddy got married,”  Tony said.

“God, I hope they don’t get too annoyed we didn’t have them as the flower girls.”

Tony shrugged.  “If they are we can do it again properly.  Actually, invite people.  Let them choose where it happens.”

“You know they’ll choose Disney, don’t you?”  You said.

He shrugged.  “Can’t be any tackier than what I just witnessed.”

Tony pulled out his phone and dialed the nanny and for one second you were sure you saw Rhodey and Happy smirking at each other.

[schninner-writes-some-stuff]

Terrible Things (Dick Grayson X Reader)

 Song story for “Terrible Things” By: Mayday Parade

Schninner: Okay guys, first song imagine thing, so I apologize if this is no good. This is also not requested, I listened to the song and I thought, “How can I make this even more heartbreaking?” XD

Tagging @the-singing-canary​ and the angst queen @maruthor​ as well as @preppygothica​  @angstytodd​ @batlog​ @cuddles-for-cassie​

(The “reader” is female)

Key: [F/F] Favorite Flower [N/N] Nick name [H/T] Hair type

Warnings: swearing, angst, and deathlyness

Word count: 2492

Master List

By the time I was your age, I'd give anything To fall in love truly, was all I could think That's when I met your mother, the girl of my dreams The most beautiful woman, that I'd ever seen

Dick Grayson let his eyes wander across the cafe as he waited for his coffee. His rubbed his sleep deprived blue eyes and let out a loud yawn, running his fingers through his dirty raven black hair. He was a hot mess, with his greasy hair, messy and ripped jeans, and wearing a shirt that was two sizes too large.

He groggily scratched his stubbled chin as he quickly observed each new and unfamiliar face, and froze when he saw yours. You were seated at a booth, a cup of coffee in one hand, and your other dancing across the keyboard of your laptop. Your [H/C] hair was tied up in a messy bun with your [E/C] eyes staring intensely at your screen. His breath hitched as he took in your appearance. You were perfect.

He watched you as you leaned back in your seat, rubbing your own bags from under your eyes and bringing the coffee to your lips, and raising your eyes to meet his.  He quickly turned around, his cheeks flushed to a bright crimson, while his heart thumped quickly. He swore softly under his breath.

How long had he been staring?

That’s when he felt a light tap on his shoulder, he turned around, only to find himself in the presence of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She said, "Boy, can I tell you a wonderful thing? I can't help but notice, you're staring at me. I know I shouldn't say this, but I really believe, I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me." Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things.

You had an atmosphere of confidence around you, with a sly smile on your face, you stuck your hand out for him to shake.

“[F/N] [L/N], now, it’s been wonderful having someone good looking as your self-checking me out, but what if we got to know each other a little better?”

His eyes widened as he became all too aware of how much of a mess he was. But he managed to talk in semi-complete sentences.

“Richard- err- Dick Grayson, and I, um, you know, there's a possibility, err- I’m interested. “

Your smile only seemed to grow larger at his flustered behavior.

“Great! Can I see your phone?”

“My… Phone…?” he questioned slowly pulling out his cellular device

You rolled your eyes, “For my number? So we can, ya know, make a date?”

“Right! Of course!” he said a bit to eagerly. He silently cursed himself as he watched you punched your number in his phone. You handed it back to him, “Great! Well, I’ll be talking to you soon ‘Dick Grayson.’”

His eyes trailed after you, observing your every movement at you picked up you bag and walked out of the coffee.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, never in his whole life had he been so sure, that he was in love.

Now, most of the time we'd have too much to drink And we'd laugh at the stars and we'd share everything Too young to notice, and too dumb to care Love was a story that couldn't compare.

The night was cool and crisp, the summer breeze kissing your cheeks as cries of laughter silenced the singing crickets.

“Dick!” You shrieked, squirming in your boyfriend’s arms. “Unhand me you fiend!”

You kicked your legs in the air, giggling uncontrollably.

Dick nuzzled his face into your [H/T] [H/C] his deep and jovial voice ringing in your ear, “Now, why would I do that?”

His warm arms hugging your elevated body even closer to him.

You dramatically puffed your cheeks out into a childish pout, sending a chuckle to escape Dick’s lips.

“Well, if you don’t put me down, I’ll-”

Dick lost balance, falling to the ground, and rolling down the hill with you still in his arms. Down you two went, descending on the gently sloping grassy hill until you both van to a stop at the bottom. Dick’s arms still wrapped protectively around you.

The only sound heard was your heavy breathing, that is until you filled the silence with amused laughter.

You rolled off of your boyfriend, clutching your stomach as the fits of giggles continued.

“Great job there Romeo!” you managed to tell him between breaths.

Dick blushed bright pink, and laughed along.

Hours passed by, you two laughing, pointing at the stars, and making up constellations. peaceful silence settled on both of you, when you decide to Roll over on top of your boyfriend.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't shake you off. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you gently began to play with the ends of his raven black hair.

“Everything alright [F/N]?” he asked, concern filling his voice.

“Yes, it’s just that- I kinda - you know- what I’m trying to say is-” you heaved a large and anxious sigh, hesitantly pulling your hand away from his hair.

“I love you. I love you Dick Grayson.”

Dick’s eyes grew in shock at the sudden confession, he your words sink in, warming him up from head to toe, before answering with a cocky grin on his face.

“Well, that's good,” he stated, gaining a raised eyebrow from you.

He quickly lifted his head, sealing your lips with his in a long breathless kiss.

“Cause I love you too.”

I said, "Girl, can I tell you a wonderful thing? I made you a present with paper and string. Open with care now, I'm asking you, please. You know that I love you, will you marry me?"

It had been several years since you and Dick had started seeing each other, every year having its ups and downs, but you two had always managed to make things right again.

This, to say the least, was probably not one of your highest points.

Dick had angrily left your shared apartment, with you cursing his name, sending bitter words his way.

That night you saw him on the news, watched as he, as Nightwing, took on several assailants at once, leaving him broken and scarred, but he would not back down.

You held your breathe, and sobbed as you watched as he was tossed aside like a rag doll, cursing your sf for being so harsh to him before.

Batman and Robin, along with Red Robin and Red Hood showed up at the scene before any mortal injury could be done to your Night wing.

You turned the TV off and waited with baited breatge1, watching the front door for any sign of movement. Several hours passed before the door opened up to Dick in his civilian clothes. With his arm in a sling and several cuts and bruises across his face.

In a heartbeat, without thinking, you leapt up and ran to him, embracing your boyfriend tightly while sobbing.

“Ow ow ow ow! Broken Ribs! Broken Ribs!” he groaned, inhaling sharply at the sudden burst of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, loosening your hold on the vigilante, but still keeping him in your arms, “I’m so sorry Dick, I didn’t mean what I said, and when you were out their fighting today, I thought- I thought…”

You trailed off, with new sobs reaching your throat.

Dick hushed you, while stroking your [H/C] hair with his good hand. “Hey, it’s okay! I’m alive and breathing! Besides, you can't get rid of me that easily.”

You looked up from his chest to those azure eyes that you loved oh so much.

“I love you.” you told him, your eyes wet and puffy from crying.

“I love you to [F/N],” he said, a sudden look of hesitation flashed in his eyes, as if he were debating something.

“Ahh, what the hell.” he said, carefully breaking the embrace and kneeling to the ground.

“Dick, what are you-” You gasped once you saw what he was awkwardly fumbling for. A small black box.

“Oh my gosh!” you breathlessly exclaimed, holding your hands up to you face as Dick managed to open up the box with his only available hand. A gold ring with pale [F/C] diamonds sat on a red cushion.

“[F/N], I love you, and can’t imagine my life without you in it, so,” he swallowed hard, beads of nervous sweat appeared on his brow, “I guess what I’m trying to ask you, is… Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” you said, kneeling down in front of him so he wouldn’t strain himself more than he already had. Tears of joy streamed down your face as you held his in your hands, pulling him into many breathless kisses.

Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things You'll learn, one day, I'll hope and I'll pray, That God shows you differently.

Several more years passed by in a blink of an eye. You were now Mr. and Mrs. Grayson, with a quaint, but nice condo with plans to start a family of your very own. And that’s when the migraines came. They started off as small headaches, but gradually became more frequent and painful. You had dismissed them, not bothering to tell Dick, no need for him to get worried over nothing, right?

Wrong.

Dick had noticed your frequent use of ibuprofen and the constant rubbing of your temples with an agonized expression.

He sat next to you on your couch, where you had sat to save yourself from passing out, the pain was just that unbearable. He gently wrapped his large arms around your body, hugging you close to him. You melted into his embrace, burrowing your head into the crook of his arm.

“Your hurting, aren’t you?” He softly said into your hair.

You nodded your head slowly with your eyes still closed, letting out a quite whimper, “yes.”

“It’s okay,” He said kissing your head, “We’re going to go get help, bring you to a doctor, and they’re going to fix you right up.”

You opened your eyes and smiled at your husband, nodding your head, “Your right, I’ll be as good as new.”

But of course, you were both wrong.

She said, "Boy, can I tell you a terrible thing? It seems that I'm sick and I've only got weeks. Please, don't be sad now, I really believe, You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."

A Brain tumor.

That’s what the doctor had said you nearly 7 months ago. Surgery was out of the question; it was much too large for that. They had told you that the only thing they could do for you, was give you medication for the pain.

“Two more weeks”

The dreadful words bounced through Dick’s mind. You two had gone in for your monthly check up, only to find that the tumor was growing at alarming rate, so much so, that you only had about 1 or 2 weeks at best, until you were gone.

“I’ll let you two talk it out, please, take all the time you need.” The doctor said with gentle kindness, leaving the room to you and your husband.

Two weeks.

Tears shot into Dick’s eyes, as he pulled you into a bear hug. Two weeks was not enough, you two were supposed to grow old together, start a family, you were supposed to live together. But all of that was gone.

“Hey, it’ okay.” You said, rubbing his back with one hand while stroking his hair with the other. “We’ll make it through this, just like we always do.”

“How?!” Dick exclaimed, anger suddenly raising in his voice, “You heard what the doctor said, 1 week, two at best. And then all of this,” he gestured to their surroundings “it’s all over! It’s almost as if it were for nothing!”

He was pissed, not at you, but at the world, at fate, at himself because he couldn't do a damn thing to help you! All he could do was sit and watch as you slowly whither away.

“Hey,” you calmly said, placing your palms on either side of his face, “don’t say that, don’t say that we were meant for nothing.” your voice cracking as your calm and collective mask disappearing and large tears welling in your eyes. “This was no mistake. Because You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, “the only thing I regret is putting you through all this.”

New tears emerged to replace the old ones. “I’m sorry Dick!”

Dick’s heart sunk, in his chest as he watched the tears stream down your face, he reached out and brushed the ears from your face, before pulling you close.

“No [F/N], I’m sorry.” He squeezed you tightly, breathing in your scent, “I never regret meeting you, or falling in love with you, you made my life worth living.”

“I love you,” You heaved into his chest, clutching tightly to his biceps.

Tears fell from his eyes onto your hair, “I love you too.”

Slow, so slow I fell to the ground on my knees.

The cool crisp fall air caressed Dick’s cheek as he stood in front of your headstone.  

Gone.

Just like that.

Barely made it a week before you drifted off in your sleep.

“Hey, [N/N], I-I brought you something.” His voice cracking with emotion.

“They’re [F/F],” He said shakily, “Your favorite, and I cleaned out the house to today.” HIs hand shook as he reached into his pocket, “I found-” He sniffed and let out a short chuckle, unfolding the photograph. “It’s a picture of us on our wedding day,” tears were streaming down his face as new sobs raked through his body, he pointed a cold finger at the image of you, you two were shoving cake into each other’s face.

“Y-you had smeared it all in my hair, I was washing frosting out for nearly a week-” a cry escaped his lips, shaking his body and sending him crashing to the cold ground. He clawed at the ground, his chest heaved and filled with sorrow.

“I can’t!” he wailed.

“I can’t do this anymore!’

So don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose If you're given the choice, then I beg you to choose To walk away, walk away, don't let her get you. I can't bear to see the same happen to you.

“I need you here, with me. I can’t go on without you!” Tears splattered to the ground.

“Please [F/N], I miss you.”

Now, son, I'm only telling you this Because life can do terrible things

[cherriestae]

forehead kisses are the best medicine

yoonjin | sick fic | pg | fluff | 1,538 words

Despite Yoongi’s various adamant protests, Jin knew when his boyfriend was getting sick. Other than the obvious coughs and sniffles he heard coming from the other male, there were a few other less obvious signs.

His already lethargic roommate began sleeping more. Whether it be in their room, on the couch, or even at the kitchen table, it became harder to find Yoongi conscious in the dorm. He also started coming back from the studio earlier. Instead of 6 or 7 am he would come back around 4 or 5 am and sleep like the dead until lunch time or maybe even miss lunch claiming he had no appetite. That was another thing. Yoongi already missed meals because he was too focused on what he was doing, but now when he did eat it became a smaller and smaller amount. Jin knew for sure he was getting sick, when one night Yoongi opted out of going to the studio all together because he fell asleep right after dinner and didn’t get up to go to the studio with Namjoon that evening.

The morning after that happened, Jin knew it was time to ignore the younger’s protests and start helping his boyfriend feel better. He got up early and made Yoongi some herbal tea that would help clear his nose and throat. Then he went to their supply closet and got out a box of tissues that had aloe lotion in them to make sure that Yoongi’s nose wouldn’t get irritated when he used them. He took these and the tea and went back to their shared room.

Yoongi was still asleep when Jin walked in so he set the mug and tissue box on his bedside table. Looking down at his boyfriend’s sleeping form, Jin saw some sweat on his forehead and noticed that his cheeks where reddened. Jin felt the younger male’s forehead with his hand to discover that he was quite warm. He quickly went to their bathroom to get a thermometer from their first aid kit and a cool damp rag.

Now he had to wake up the sleeping male. He braced himself for some of the usual grumpiness as he gently shook him awake. But instead of the expected grumbling, he was greeted with the younger’s sleepy eyes blinking back up at him and his scratchy voice saying “Hyung?” questioningly.

“How do you feel, Yoongi?” Jin asked.

“Not the best,” Yoongi answered again in a sleepy tone.

“I think you might have a fever,” Jin informed him as he brushed back some of Yoongi’s sweaty black locks from his forehead. He picked up the thermometer and asked Yoongi if he could sit up so he could tuck it under his armpit and get his temperature.

With Jin’s help Yoongi sat up and pulled up the right side of the shirt that he slept in and Jin tucked the cold thermometer under his armpit. As they waited for the thermometer to beep alerting them that Yoongi’s temperature had been read, Yoongi sat blinking at the other male sleepily. “What time is it?” he asked.

“6:30 in the morning,” Jin answered as he tried to gently brush the rest of Yoongi’s sweaty hair off of his forehead.

The thermometer beeped telling them it was done and Jin removed it from under Yoongi’s armpit. He looked down at it to see it read 104°F (40°C), confirming Jin’s suspicions of his boyfriend having a fever. He told Yoongi as the younger male slipped back under his blankets. He nodded solemnly and let out a loud cough that sounded like it hurt.

Jin quickly went to get some ibuprofen to help with the fever and some water for Yoongi to drink it down. With some help, Yoongi took the medicine and then with a kiss on the forehead from Jin, he went back to sleep. Jin put the cold damp rag on Yoongi’s forehead to help get his fever down then went to the kitchen to make breakfast for the rest of the group, who would be waking up soon.

As he prepared breakfast, he made some soup for Yoongi to have when he woke up again.

—

Jin had informed everyone of Yoongi’s condition as soon as they woke up and asked them to keep it down for the day. After cleaning up from breakfast, Jin went back to check on the feverish male and see how he was doing. He got him a new cold compress for his head then pulled up a chair next to his bed.

Jin is kind of like the mother of the group, so when a member got sick he would naturally take on the duties of checking on them and making sure they took their medicine and ate and kept hydrated. But with Yoongi, his boyfriend, this only became amplified. The younger already didn’t like asking for help or extra attention so when he got sick, it worried Jin the most of all. He didn’t want to smother him, but he was extremely worried for his boyfriend.

In the past when Yoongi had the flu, Jin cuddled up with him on the couch for 3 days straight. He was the most attentive boyfriend he could be, until Yoongi started feeling better, even though it risked Jin getting sick himself, which he did in the end.

Jin took Yoongi’s warm hand as he sat at his bedside and drew random patterns on the top of it as he continued to sleep. Jin ended up dozing off with his head laying on Yoongi’s bed as he waited for the sick male to awaken.

When Yoongi woke up that afternoon, he felt someone holding his hand and looked down to see his boyfriend’s sleeping face. He gave a small gummy smile and gently squeezed Jin’s hand. Jin stirred and noticed that Yoongi was awake. He sat up and asked again, “How are you feeling?”

“Better than earlier,” Yoongi said, “but still not great.” Jin had him sit up again and tucked the thermometer back under his armpit to take his temperature as he went to go get some soup for Yoongi from the kitchen.

Jin brought back the reheated soup just as the thermometer beeped. 102°F (38.9°C) it read. So his fever had gone down a little, but not totally subsided. Jin fed Yoongi some soup as the younger was tired and sore from the fever. When Yoongi had had his fill, he thanked the older and Jin gave him another kiss on the forehead as he tucked him back into bed after administering some more ibuprofen. Jin was sure the pink blush and small grin rising on Yoongi’s face had to be the fever talking.

—

Jin had been sitting in the living room of the dorm, nearly pulling his hair out in worry for the last 2 hours while Yoongi slept. He became so obviously anxious that Namjoon asked the maknaes to distract the oldest so that he could get his mind off their sick hyung. “He’s going to be alright,” Jimin assured him as they sat together on the couch watching whatever movie Taehyung had put on. “Yoongi always pulls through.”

The movie provided some distraction for a while until Jin heard some coughing from down the hall and bolted up off the couch and ran out of the room. He arrived to Yoongi taking a sip of water from the glass he’d left on the bedside table. He knelt next to the bed and pet the hair away from the younger’s forehead.

“How are you, hun?” he asked softly as his hand moved to Yoongi’s cheek. They weren’t really ones to use pet names, but Jin didn’t care, he was worried about his boyfriend.

Yoongi placed his hand over the one Jin had placed on his cheek and lent into it closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m doing better, don’t worry about me hyung,” Yoongi said as he blinked up at him giving a small grin then kissing Jin’s palm. Jin knew Yoongi was trying to be strong for him so that he would stop worrying so much.

Jin gave him a small smile back and took his temperature again. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he looked down at the thermometer. Yoongi’s fever had finally broken.

Jin made sure the younger drank some more water to make sure he wouldn’t get dehydrated, then gave him a kiss on the forehead once again and got up to let his boyfriend sleep some more.

As he stood, Yoongi reached out and grabbed ahold of his wrist. “Hyung,” he said quietly, looking up at him with big eyes, “please stay.” Of course, Jin couldn’t say ‘no’ to his boyfriend. Yoongi shuffled over to give him some room and he climbed into the bed and laid along side Yoongi under the blankets. Yoongi immediately buried his face in Jin’s neck and let out a content sigh. Jin wrapped his arms around the younger and gave his forehead another kiss as they both slowly drifted to sleep. Yoongi knew that with his biggest form of love and support by his side, he’d be better in no time.

[mandelene]

Tips for Writing Medical AUs

I said I’d make a follow-up post on some things you should know when writing scenes involving medicine, and here it finally is! Most of this is first-aid related and skims the surface of common medical problems–just enough general stuff you’ll need to help you get started with writing a scene. None of what I’ve written here should be taken as actual medical advice. This is strictly for your writing purposes only. If you have an actual medical problem, please see a licensed medical professional.

Fevers:

Low grade fever = the person’s oral temperature (the temperature taken under their tongue) is higher than the standard 98.6 F (or 37 C) but lower than 100.4 F (38 C). Doesn’t usually require treatment, unless the person is uncomfortable.

A fever higher than 100.4 F (38 C) would be treated with a cold compress for the person’s head (or multiple compresses), over the counter fever reducers like ibuprofen (e.g. Motrin, Advil, etc.) or acetaminophen (e.g. Tylenol), and rest.

Fevers of around 103 F (39.4 C) are generally more concerning for adults than they are for children. Children are likely to have higher fevers than adults without warranting as much cause for alarm, but the severity varies with the illness that’s causing it. At this point, the person would likely have to see a doctor because such high fevers aren’t caused by simple colds and could indicate an illness that would require antibiotics.

104 F (40 C) or higher usually means it’s time for a trip to the ER, especially if the person is vomiting, isn’t drinking water, or feels confused/delirious. The person would have to be on IV fluids to prevent dehydration and would need to be monitored.

105 F (40.5 C) is usually the highest a person’s temperature will go, unless something is wrong with their hypothalamus, which regulates body temperature. If for some reason the person’s temperature does rise above 105 F, brain damage still wouldn’t occur until around 107.5 F (42 C), which is very rare and unlikely. One thing I see when people write about high fevers is that they put the ailing character in an ice bath. This is something you would not want to do. The drastic change in temperature would cause a person to go into shock, put them through extreme/unnecessary discomfort, and make them shiver, raising their temperature and essentially doing more harm than good. The water in the bath should be lukewarm, or the person can have cold/ice packs put on them while they’re in bed.  

Also, it’s not wise to have the character “sweat out” the fever. They should be stripped of excess clothing and shouldn’t be covered/bundled up. Please don’t have a character with a fever of 103 drink a hot cup of tea either.

Stitches: Stitches aren’t given without a local anesthetic and pain relievers being provided first, and no, a character shouldn’t magically know how to stitch someone up without having some kind of previous medical knowledge. It’s not as easy as you may think it is, especially if it’s to be done correctly. The person would be given an injection to numb the area, and then the sutures would be put in. If the wound is small, the person might be given butterfly closures (commonly referred to as Steri-Strips). They can also be used after stitches are removed to support the wound until it heals further.

Broken bones (fractures):

Fractures can get pretty complex because there are tons of different types and everything depends on how the fracture occurred, but you shouldn’t need to know many details aside from some things that are probably already common sense. Regardless of the type of fracture, keeping the swelling down is important, so the character should keep the broken bone elevated, limit physical activity, and keep ice on the area.

Broken bones are diagnosed by a physical examination first followed by an x-ray if the physical examination shows signs of a suspected fracture. The doctor would ask how the injury occurred, look at the person’s medical history, and then feel the area before asking the person to go through a number of short tests to determine their range of motion. If you want to know the in-depth assessments for determining a specific kind of break, you can find great and informative videos on YouTube that show doctors actually performing these physical exams.  

Depending on the type of break and where it is on the body, recovery time would vary. For these kinds of details, I would recommend consulting a medical encyclopedia if you have access to one, or check out a website like MayoClinic, which should give you the basic stuff you’ll need to know.

Writing about Strokes:

If you need to write about the symptoms and diagnosis of a stroke, just remember FAST (Face, Arm, Speech, Time.) Face means you check to see if one side of the person’s face is drooping. Arm means to ask the person to hold both of their arms out in front of them and see if one arm starts dropping lower than the other. Speech refers to whether the person is speaking clearly or if their speech is slurred/hard to understand. Time means the person needs to get help quickly, seeing as timing is everything. A character with some knowledge of first aid would know to keep track of exactly how much time has gone by since the symptoms first appeared. Writing about Heart Attacks: The symptoms of a heart attack (or if you’re being fancy–a myocardial infarction) can be obvious or not so obvious. It honestly depends on the circumstances and the person, but the textbook symptoms are: dizziness, clammy skin, and pain in one or more of these places in the upper body: chest, jaw, upper abdomen, or arms. The person could also have a feeling of “tightness” in their chest, back, or neck. They might be short of breath and experience the sensation of “impending doom,” which is a feeling of intense anxiety. A character with some knowledge of first aid would know to give the person an aspirin and make them chew it, which would help keep blood from clotting and save precious time needed to get the person help. The treatments for a heart attack vary based on what caused it, but the person would be put on supplemental oxygen, given a blood thinner, and either undergo angioplasty (which is when a balloon is inflated inside the artery to open/unblock it. This is typically followed by the insertion of a stent which holds the artery open after the balloon is deflated) or they would have coronary artery bypass surgery, which is when an artery that isn’t blocked is used to bypass the artery that is blocked and restores blood flow to the heart).

Head Injuries/Concussions:

Head injuries are also super varied and complex. Head injuries are usually a pretty serious thing, and even mild head injuries can cause concern. I’m going to specifically talk about concussions here, as those are the most common head injuries you’re likely going to be encountering in your writing. Concussions, like heart attacks, have symptoms that are not always obvious. It’s possible to have a concussion and not even be aware of it.

No matter how seemingly mild the head injury might seem, your character would be wise to see a doctor. You don’t need to hit your head that hard to cause damage.

If the character is dazed, dizzy, and nauseous/vomiting, they need to be taken to the ER for a CAT scan of their head. The character would take some over-the-counter pain meds and needs to be watched by a friend/family member. If the character isn’t acting alert, they shouldn’t sleep. A doctor would be able to assess the severity of the concussion by checking the condition of their eyes, asking them some questions to figure out how alert they are, and having them perform a few simple physical movements.

Resuscitation and CPR:

There’s a lot of confusion about this topic because of how poorly it is presented in movies/TV. A defibrillator (which is what you would associate with the “crash cart”) isn’t used once a person has already flat-lined/doesn’t have a pulse (also known as being asystole). It’s only used when the person has an irregular heart rhythm like V-fib, which puts them at risk for flat-lining. I repeat, the defibrillator is used to prevent a person from flat-lining. The whole “CLEAR! OMG WE BROUGHT HER BACK TO LIFE” trope is really misleading. It doesn’t work that way. If a person doesn’t have a pulse, CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) is immediately started, which involves chest compressions, which are quick, rhythmic presses that are done at around a 100 times per minute. After every 30 chest compressions, the person is given a breath of air. Fun fact, to keep a steady pace, doctors and nurses are often taught to do chest compressions to the beat of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees.  

Doctors/nurses can do chest compressions sometimes up to 45 or 50 minutes before pronouncing someone dead. As you can probably imagine, it’s pretty exhausting, and in the hospital, everyone takes turns doing chest compressions once they get tired, which is part of the reason why there are multiple people in the room when someone flat-lines. They don’t put electrical pads on a person that’s already dead. Don’t believe the movies.

Common misperceptions about hospitals/the medical field in general that I’ve noticed:

Keep in mind that I’m writing this part as someone who has only had exposure to American medical practices (more specifically urban American medical practices). Hospital protocol differs from region to region, so the things I write in this part may apply to American hospitals but not necessarily to hospitals in Canada or Europe. Just thought I’d make that clear first! :)

The role of nurses: In general, nurses (and I’m talking mainly about RNs) working at hospitals are the ones who administer most of the actual care to patients while doctors come up with the diagnosis, outline a treatment plan, analyze lab results, and order medications.

However, even this varies. Registered nurses in New York, for example, are expected to put in IVs, draw blood, and do a lot more hands-on work with the patients than nurses in small hospitals in a less populous state would be expected to do. They also have more patients. Doctors honestly don’t do a heck of a whole lot, but it depends on the specific doctor. Some doctors won’t even physically meet with the patient–-they’ll just ask the nurse for updates and only get involved if they are absolutely needed. Other doctors will be more involved. 

My point is, don’t underestimate the role of nurses when writing them into your stories. They are just as important to the patient (if not more so) than the doctor. Oftentimes, they’ll know what’s wrong with a patient before the doctor does. So don’t mess with them. They’re a feisty bunch, especially nurses who have been working in a hospital setting for a long time. It irks me a little when I read stories where the nurses just give water to the patients, sit to chat with them about the weather, and take them for strolls around the unit. That’s not what nurses do. That’s what volunteers do.

The ER:

Think of the emergency room as your starting point when going to the hospital. If your character’s got pneumonia and they’re dehydrated, their first step would be the ER. I think a lot of misconceptions regarding the ER happen in people’s writing because they don’t know the process of how it works and have to rely on movies/TV again. So let’s go through it step-by-step to make it easier to visualize, which will also make your writing clearer and less vague. If you walked into an ER right now with hypothetical pneumonia, this is the process you’d go through:

First, you’d sit in a little waiting area outside of the actual ER. You’d then be called over to provide some basic information and explain what the reason for your visit is. If you haven’t been in the hospital before, you would provide more information than if you were already in the system. This includes medical history, insurance info, etc.

You’d then get your vitals checked by the triage nurse, who would be able to determine the severity of your condition and how quickly you would need to be brought onto the unit. Someone having trouble breathing or chest pain would be brought into the unit almost immediately. (Also, if someone arrived to the hospital by ambulance and didn’t walk in, they’d also be brought to a bed immediately). Broken bones = waiting longer because it’s not prioritized as much, especially if the ER is busy.

If you had a high fever and were coughing/short of breath, it’s fair to say you’d be seen fairly soon, though not right away. 

After an examination by the triage nurse, getting put into the computer system, and receiving a hospital bracelet, you’d be given a bed and be expected to endure a little more waiting. You might be seen by a number of people. Most likely, the first person you’d see is your nurse. She/He would ask you about your pain level, ask if you want any pain medication, etc. Then, you’d wait to see a doctor, or if it’s not that serious, you might be seen by a P.A. (Physician’s Assistant), which I would argue is as close as someone can get to being a doctor without actually being a doctor. If you got stuck with a P.A., you could always request to see an M.D., but most people are afraid to say something. (Don’t be most people–-that’s just a general life tip.)

If you were deemed not all that sick and the doctor/P.A was taking their sweet time, you might end up unlucky and run into a medical or nursing student first. You’d know if someone’s a med/nursing student because they’d introduce themselves as one, and they’d likely be fumbling, asking all of the wrong questions, and generally seem awkward and inexperienced. They might try to examine you and fail. You might get annoyed. You’d probably be wondering where the damned doctor is. Interns (first year physicians) also fumble around a lot like students, but you’d only run into them in what are called “teaching hospitals,” which are exactly what they sound like. Teaching hospitals take in doctors that are just starting out and try to transform them into competent physicians. Not all hospitals are teaching hospitals. If you wanted to make certain you were in good hands, you would make sure you met a resident physician or–-gasp–-the elusive attending physician (AKA Mr./Ms. I’m the Real Doctor Here, Unlike These Other People) at some point. (Be warned that the attending physician would be cranky if you asked to see them for a small wound or simple illness/injury.) But eventually, you’d see some kind of doctor. They’d examine you, decide on a treatment method, and then leave again. If deemed necessary, the nurse would come in to put in your IV, draw blood, and take a urine sample. These are standard things that are done when you come in with a virus/infection. You might also be given a fever reducer in either a pill or through IV fluids if you couldn’t hold down any pills or liquids. After your lab results came back, the doctor would decide if you needed further medication like an antibiotic. Pneumonia usually leads to needing a chest x-ray as well, so your doctor would order that.

The nurse would check in on you periodically, and the doctor would stop by to check your progress as well (unless your doctor was antisocial and had a bad bedside manner, in which case, you would remember this post and request for someone else who would actually be invested in making you better).  

If your condition improved, the doctor might consider having you discharged and give you some instructions and a prescription for medication before sending you home. If you got worse and had complications like low oxygen saturation and more difficulty breathing, your doctor might transfer you to another unit better suited to give you more individualized care, like the ICU, for example, and so, your journey through the hospital would continue, and you’d go through much of the same process on another unit as you went through in the ER: get your vitals checked by a nurse, wait to see a doctor, get examined, get put on the doctor’s treatment plan, have your medication administered by the nurse, etc.

Hopefully, that clarifies things a little. Here are some things you also want to keep in mind:

-Nurses and doctors in the ER are calm no matter the situation. They’re not running back and forth yelling and causing a bunch of commotion (that’s what the patients do sometimes). The nurses and doctors have seen it all and nothing fazes them. They’re professionals, and so, they’re trained to deal with emergency situations without flipping out. 

This applies to all hospital units, not just the ER. If your character is having a baby and is on the maternity unit, none of the nurses or doctors are going to be dropping everything and running around like the place is on fire. They deliver dozens and dozens of babies a day, so you want to make sure that’s reflected in the interactions of the staff with your character.

-Don’t have your character just walk out of a hospital unit whenever they feel like it. If they’re an adult, of course the hospital can’t force them to stay, but the hospital has to have them fill out an AMA (Against Medical Advice) form and discharge them before they can leave. They can’t just magically escape the hospital. That’d be a huge lawsuit.  

-Bedside manner and competence aren’t necessarily the same. A doctor/nurse can be the sweetest, funniest, and most approachable person in the world, but that doesn’t automatically make them good at what they do. Show off their skill sets or lack thereof. What does your character want/need? Do they want the person taking care of them to have a good bedside manner, or do they care more about the quality of care they get? Personally, I’ll take a mean, sassy doctor who is brilliant over an average-skilled happy-go-lucky doctor any day, but that’s just my preference. Some people need someone who is both happy-go-lucky and competent because they need emotional support as well as physical care in order to recover. It all depends on your character. 

All right, I know I’ve missed a bunch of stuff, but there’s honestly so much info to cover. If you guys have specific questions you’d like help on in your medical scenes (or you’re just curious), send everything to my inbox, and I’ll try to answer your questions as best as I can. If I can’t answer them, I’ll consult my mom or someone at the hospital and get back to you. Also, if there was something that was unclear, or you found an inaccuracy in anything I’ve written here, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to make the appropriate edits. I want everyone to be well-informed and write amazing, breath-taking medical AUs that I can binge-read.

Happy writing,

-Mandelene