#look ill be honest i like sleeping on the floor

[cryptic-science]

okay so the hell zone has been cleaned using the carpet cleaner. it took me from 4:53 to roughly 6:29 to do this one area.

im giving it some time to dry now, and then im gonna vacuum it once more.

pretty much all thats left before i can have a bed again is to clean the bedframe area, clean and put some stuff in the hellzone, and then move some shit around so i have room to move my box spring and mattress.

my bed may be shitty (my mattress has a spring that will literally stab me, the wood of my boxspring is all chewed up, they are both old and crusty as hell, there are holes in the bottom of my mattress, and thats only the half of it really), but im so tired of sleeping on the floor.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

so like. fnaf movie. after night five, all outside observers know is "this 30yo guy with severe anger issues + his 10yo mentally ill sister just walked out of his collapsing workplace with an unconscious, stabbed police officer, saying that someone inside the building tried to kill them but we can't get into the building to check. we went to their house and the aunt who was fighting for custody of the child is dead on the floor. the guy's career counselor is missing, as is his babysitter and her family and apparently they're all dead in the building we can't get into." and like. that all looks suspicious as FUCK however we know that in the few-weeks timeskip both mike and abby seem happy and fine so it's not like mike was arrested or anything. he seems to be more adjusted and is happily talking with her teacher so i doubt he's under stress of interrogation or anything

there's a lot of implications there that mike mighta pulled something but it's all circumstantial evidence at best. i'm sure in jane's autopsy and crime scene evidence they couldn't find any evidence of mike being the one to attack her, esp since it was probably just golden freddy bopping her in the head so they dont even have the weapon, and if she was strangled they'd be able to tell it wasn't by bare hands and they couldnt get prints or anyth. especially if golden freddy is a FULL ghost and thus left no trail.

mike would be smart enough to only tell the cops what they need to know without mentioning ghosts to sound crazy. abby might be more honest with the cops just bc of #autism but they'd be more likely to consider her talking about ghosts and imaginary friends as a child's way of coping, and they cant get anything out of her that would incriminate mike. ADD TO THAT that mike has wounds that are clearly defensive and is SUPER banged up and his wounds would likely match his story way better than evidence of him attacking anyone, AND that there's likely footage and witnesses of him being in the pharmacy and then driving to work (and thus not in the area to attack jane), AND if/when nessie wakes up she'll probably vouch for mike as well, and the cops dont have anything on him

though i DO wonder if they would have records of vanessa patching him up in the police outpost. if they do, that would also back up mike's story as it's 1) far away from the aunt jane crime scene, 2) confirms that he and vanessa were working together, so either she's complicit in Crime™ or his story is accurate and she was helping him save his sister. him going to defend her instead of calling backup is also consistent with his personality of getting triggered and jumping into action around child abduction, esp w/ his sibling in danger

considering what abby would probably say, AND the history of freddy's, it's likely that they would come to the conclusion of is "someone [likely the og kidnapper from the 80s] found out that the guy working at freddy's had a sister, kidnapped abby from her house while her aunt was babysitting and tried to recreate the crimes, his story of him and vanessa defending her and escaping vaguely checks out." whether or not mike would incriminate vanessa by mentioning her dad was the killer is up in the air, and there's obviously some huge holes that are left from nobody believing that there are ghosts in the building but that would probably be the eventual conclusion

but throwing that all away, it would be really, REALLY funny if the rest of the town, being really fuckin nosy and getting into the juiciest gossip they've had in decades, took one look at michael "big teddy bear falling asleep on himself" schmidt and said "there's no way. there's no way this guy murdered his aunt, stabbed an officer and then destroyed his own workplace, especially when he really needed that job and was on sleeping medication," and then turned around to look at abby "neurodivergent in the early 2000s (ableist af time period)" "vocally hates her aunt" "doesn't talk to anyone and claims that she can see ghosts" "vaguely possessive of her brother" "claims that she found the guy who hurt her friends and got him jumped by a cupcake(?)" schmidt and said "oh my god. it was her."

and nobody's gonna directly say anything but they've got cautious eyes on the situation and someone quietly slips mike a copy of the bad seed to see if he has a realization but instead he's just like "hey this book kinda reminds of that golden freddy kid lmao. wonder how he's doin" and then we smashcut to golden freddy kid poking springtrap with a stick

[queers-gambit]

Lost and Found

prompt: ( requested ) you're just friends, but on your first night at Saltburn, you get lost in the vast halls and accidentally walk in on lover boy after a bath. he wants you to stay.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 3.6k+

note: this SHOULD'VE gotten slutty, but it DIDN'T because i'm back in the hospital and the LAST thing i need is a nurse walking in on me writing fucking smut - oh, my God, can you imagine? new fear unlocked!

warnings: RIP Queen Lizzie, cursing, sexual tension, emotions are hard, Lord's name in vain, depiction of mental illness (anxiety), author throws in a little personal detail cause writing is therapy.

"Honestly, who lives in a place like this? The bloody Queen, that's who. Her and all her fucking rooms! Jesus!" You grumbled, dipping down another winding hallway. "All right, this looks familiar, that's... Encouraging, right?" You frowned, glass of water in hand after venturing to the kitchen to fetch it - but now, you couldn't navigate your way back to your room. "Of course," you growled quietly, opening a door and finding a linen closet.

How silly, in a place like this! A fucking linen closet!

You huffed and shut the door, feeling incredibly awkward and terribly misplaced. You mind screamed that didn't belong here, you never should've set foot in a place like this! How fucking foolish you felt, like a silly little girl who was just excited her crush spoke to her, let alone invited you home with him for the summer holiday.

But it was Felix fucking Catton - certified enigma. He was all man with a boyish charm who smiled at you on move-in day at Oxford and sealed your fate. He was ridiculously nice, so very sweet, borderline annoying with his giving nature and kindness. He was loyal to a fault, intuitive, observant, admirably carefree, and so very happy to give his love to anyone who needed it. For a few weeks, you felt almost offended by his attention, wondering what kind of broken soul he thought you were; knowing he had an affinity for "damaged" or "broken" things.

At least, that's what his cousin, Oxford's registered and certified catty bitch, Farleigh Start, teased you about relentlessly when he noted the way Felix hung around you. Felix invited you out with friends, offered to study together, walked you to and from classes - even if his were in the literal opposite direction. You had no honest idea how the two were related, given Farleigh's constant attitude and Felix's overwhelming kindness, but that wasn't for you to understand. You just relished the attention Felix bestowed in-between your skepticism.

And here you are, your first night in his home, Saltburn, completely lost and totally turned-around! You didn't need water all that bad, did you? Granted, you had a several tablets to take that evening to maintain your health, but you could've used the fucking sink in the adjoining bathroom! You grew frustrated the more doors you opened, finding empty rooms or closets or another fucking library or studies or whatever! As if this home wasn't big enough, there were multiple levels and all you knew was that you and Felix were both located on the same floor with his parents above you and his sister and Farleigh beneath.

So, that helped.

But you still felt so fucking silly.

Seriously, who got LOST in someone else's home!? Fools, that's who!

Okay, okay, okay, you didn't need to be so hard on yourself, but you grew nervous and fearful for a reason you didn't understand. Your anxiety was planted in your stomach, festering, growing, taking over you to the point that you had tears in your eyes when you found yet ANOTHER fucking study!

"Oh, even the bloody fucking Queen doesn't have this many useless rooms, and she's a much bigger family, Jesus fucking Christ," you sneered to yourself - ready to give up and just sleep in one of the empty rooms. But you didn't want Duncan finding you in the morning, asking questions, forcing you to admit you were lost - you felt humiliated enough as it was! And that was without anyone witnessing this absolute mess you had made!

Well, not technically a mess - but you felt like a mess the more you crept around. And now, you felt fucking creepy - like some stalker, sneaking around the halls, trying to spy on this very nice family. You knew you weren't, but the feeling was still there - fucking anxiety would honestly be the death of you.

However, you came upon a familiar (enough) door that had a gentle light emitting from under it. With a sigh of relief, you suddenly remembered leaving a light on for yourself to return to; reaching for the doorknob, twisting it, and darting into the room while swiftly swinging the door close - but halting it to shut quietly as to not disturb anyone in the empty halls.

Yeah, anxiety was a bitch.

"Ohh-ho, evenin', love," a voice greeted, making you gasp, jump, and twist around. "Miss me that much? Heard the drain on the tub, didn't yah, had to come sneak a peek?"

Felix fucking Catton stood at the end of a messy bed in all his glory, running a towel through his wet curls. Nothing obscuring your sight, nothing hiding his manhood, nothing - literally nothing on his body except a shit-eating grin.

"Jesus, Fi! Fuck, I-I-I'm so - um," you gulped, trying not to ogle him, but failing (miserably) when beads of water rolled between the contours of his impossibly impressively sculpted muscles. "I just - you know, this place is so bloody big - um, I'm sorry - I just... Yeah..."

He smirked, nodding sarcastically, "Uh-huh. And you just happened to stumble into my room? Pretty good timing, too, wasn't it?"

You squeaked, "I didn't mean to! I swear - Felix, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, um, yeah, you know - uh..."

"Like what you see, sweetheart? Why don't you come in closer, get a better look?"

You adverted your eyes out of respect and fumbled messily for the door handle. "Oh, sweet Jesus. Bloody house is just too bloody big, I got all turned around - just needed some water and I just - fuck, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey," Felix chuckled, wrapping his towel loosely around his hips so his V-line was still on raunchy display, "I'm only teasin', love. I know this place can get confusin' t'newcomers. I actually meant to grab you some water, know you gotta take your tablets."

You swallowed your embarrassment, sighing, "I'll just - yeah - no - I'll, um, just go - I'm so sorry, again."

"You know where you're goin' all of a sudden?"

You faced the door, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, shaking your head gently, "Well, no, but I'll figure it out - I left a, um, I left a light on, you know, to help - I don't know - uh, guide me?"

"You've not stuttered this much since we first met," he laughed, tugging a pair of boxers on for your sanity (and to your dismay). "I'm dressed, doll, you can look at me now. C'mon, bit weird talkin' to your back."

"We're not talking, Felix, I'm going to bed."

"Then why haven't you left yet?"

You blinked at the intricately carved door, realizing your hand was still on the knob, but it hadn't turned. "I didn't want to be so rude as to just walk out, mid-sentence!"

"Hey, hey, you're all right, darlin', I'm only teasin'," he grinned, hearing his bare feet pad over the ground before his warm hand wrapped around your elbow. "C'mon, love, hang with me a bit - 's not that late, is it?"

"Oh, so, Duncan can walk in? Make his assumptions?" You whispered, slowly facing him and leaning back on the door with a pout. His big, brown, doe-eyes stared directly into yours, making you feel under his spotlight - something akin to a privilege, since Felix Catton didn't bestow his attention on everyone. "I just needed water, I didn't mean t'get, you know, lost like this. Seriously, this place looks totally different at night."

"Surprised you even got this far, huh?"

"I looked in any room with an open door," you admitted with a small wince. "I felt so creepy, but I was all turned around - and you know, you shouldn't leave other lights on in rooms not being used. Terrible waste of energy."

"Awh, my sweet, environmentally-conscious girl," he cooed, hand raising to gently pinch your jaw. There was a serene moment, the pair of you just staring at one another, becoming acutely aware that he was still practically naked. "C'mon, don't leave yet, we can play cards if you like?"

"I've medicine t'take - "

"Right, right, right," he nodded, letting his hand drift to hold your neck in a gentle grasp. "Tell you what, you stay here, I'll grab your meds, and bring them back? You keep 'em in that li'l pink bag, yeah?"

"I don't know how to feel that you know which is my med bag," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Just shows I pay attention, don't it?"

"Maybe shows we spend too much time together?"

He kissed his teeth, grinning at you, "There's no such thing - in fact! I reckon we could double our time together and it still wouldn't feel like enough."

"Well, how's that help me later? I still don't know where my room is - oh, don't laugh!" You groaned, Felix snickering louder. "Fi, c'mon, it's not funny - this place is huge! Like, illegally huge!"

He cooed, "Oh, doll, 'M not laughing at you, promise. Just... You're not the first person t'get lost here, yeah?"

You scoffed with severe discomfort, "I really don't want t'hear 'bout all the other girls you've brought home - "

"Hey, now," he cut you off swiftly, "don't do that." He shrugged meekly, "There's been no others, just friends. Mine, Farleigh's, Venetia's... They've all gotten lost once or twice... Or that time we had to actually draw Reggie a map, poor lad got lost around every bend."

You rolled your eyes, "Truly expect me to believe that, do you?" Then you let your eyes widen a fraction, teasing, "Oh, wow, you really believe it! You really believe you haven't brought home other girls who you're interested in or who are into you?"

He crowded you into the door, shifting the room's energy to something sultry, making you hold your breath as his hand slid into your hair. "You know you're the only one, right?"

"You know that's absolute bullshite, right? Like, what a fucking line!"

He tisked, "C'mon, doll."

"Be honest, Felix."

His head cocked, "Want the truth?"

"That'd be a nice change of pace."

He scoffed lightly, "I don't give a single fuck if any of our previous guests cared for me - only you. Hear me?" He took the last step so he was stood with his feet slotted between yours. "I didn't bring them here for any other reason than friendly entertainment. You've seen the place, as big as it is, can get a bit lonely without anyone to hang with. But I asked you here... For different reasons..." He whispered, eyes jutting down to your lips as he kept a firm hold on you.

"And what reasons are those, Fi?"

He smirked, "Obviously... To kick your arse at cards."

You were flooded with pure disappointment. Raw, unfiltered disappointment that deflated your shoulders. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen," you covered, nudging him a single step away from you. "Wanna be a gentleman and direct me to my room now?"

"Nope," he grinned, snatching your hand and yanking you away from the door. "You're gonna sit your pretty self right here," he nudged you to the edge of his bed, turning for his desk, then turning back to you to slap a deck of cards to your hand, "you're gonna shuffle these, and mentally prepare to get your arse handed to you at your own game."

You chuckled slightly, "Thought you hated 51 Rummy?"

"Only when sober," he smirked, leaning down to peck your forehead sweetly. "Sit tight, doll, I'll be a moment, yeah?"

You sighed and watched him exit the room, reaching to set your glass of water down and observe the room. In a moment of weakness, you pet over his sheets as if tempted to snuggle into them - and you were! You were cold from the lack of robe you meant to shrug on, and wondering the halls of Saltburn took much longer than you anticipated - now wanting to dive into the warmth you knew was left, the same warmth that Felix left on everything.

You jumped when the door opened again, Felix slipping inside with your little pink bag. His brows pinched, "All right, love?"

"Hmm? Yeah - "

"Your feet are nearly blue," he shook his head, handing you your bag before turning for his wardrobe. "Socks or sweats?"

"Huh?"

He turned, holding up a pair of sweatpants and socks, repeating, "Socks or sweats? Figured you're a bit cold in that." The left side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, eyeing you in your sleep shorts and loose teeshirt that had the collar ripped out, showing a hint of cleavage.

"Oh, uh, socks, please."

He tossed you the socks, dropped the sweats, and joined you on the bed as you pulled the oversized garment onto your feet. "C'mere, get close, get comfortable," he chuckled, pushing his blankets down to sit in the sheets, waiting until you turned in the bed to yank the blankets up over both your legs. "Didn't shuffle? My naughty girl," he joked, reaching for the deck of cards and opening it. He offered a much softer smile, eyes darting to your medicine bag, and then focusing on the cards - as if to give you privacy to take your meds.

You did so quickly, insecure about the rattling bottles and the amount of tablets in your cupped hand, but never once had Felix made you feel bad about your needs. After swallowing them, you cleared your throat and turned to face Felix as he divided the cards for the game, nodding to his side table, "Paper's over there, doll, for the score."

"Sure you want me to keep score?" You asked softly, reaching for the pad of paper and spare pen. "Last time we played, you lost so very miserably, I was embarrassed for you. We can save your pride a li'l, not keep score."

"It's only polite to let the pretty lady win."

"Oh, tryin' to butter me up, are you?"

"Is it working?"

"I'll let you know."

Felix chuckled, leaning back to the headboard. Then, he asked softly, "You feelin' all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, all good."

"Sure?"

"Why?"

"Hands are shakin' a bit."

You eyed him for a moment, changing the subject by asking, "How're you not freezing? Seriously, 's like the floors are air conditioned."

"Nah, just not cold."

"Your nipples say otherwise."

"Lookin' at my nipples, are you?" He grinned. "Now you're a very naughty girl, knew you didn't stumble into my room on accident!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself!" You pushed his shoulder, but he leaned closer. "Felix - "

"You could just stay here," he offered softly.

"You got me for a game - "

"No, I mean, uh..." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and readjusting so he was supported on one elbow, facing you. "Nah, nevermind, all right, so, back to the game - "

"No, wait, say what you're thinking," you encouraged softly. "Know I hate you doin' that."

"Yeah, you get all anxious," he nodded. "I don't want t'be too forward, all right? But... You know, we sleep together at Oxford. I-In the dorms, you know?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Just thought, maybe you'd wanna stay here? With me? If you want, won't make yah, sweetheart, just thought... You know, in a house this big, you wouldn't get so lost stayin' here... Maybe?"

"Oh, aren't you my hero?"

"I know, I know, I'm just tryna look out for you, my li'l lost love. And, you know, prevent you from finding our secret dungeon," he gasped comically.

"That's not even a joke 'cause I'd believe it in a place like this. Is it a dungeon for torture or sex?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Maybe I'd like to see it. Hm," you considered, "maybe I should stay here, you know - so you can show me around and go get me water when I need it. Save my toes from freezing off, wonderin' 'round here."

He grinned, "Yeah?"

"If it's not too scandalous?"

"'S not like anyone would care... Except me, you know? I'd... I'd like you to stay here. Like havin' you close, sweetheart."

"Well, maybe you could put some clothes on? You're terribly fucking distracting! I'm here to win a card game, and I'll be damned if you win 'cause your abs are... You know, staring right at me, you cheater," you grinned, turning to face him fully with your legs crossed, the space in the sheets open for your cards.

"I think you like me naked," he grinned. "I mean, you stared long enough."

"I was just caught off guard!"

"Oh, I'm sure," his grin turned wicked. "You're still staring, doll."

"Well, it's not as if you're quick to cover yourself!"

"You're not too quick t'look away, either!"

"I was - "

"Caught off guard, yeah, you've said," he chuckled, staring at you with those moony brown eyes that made you feel as if you were the only girl he's ever seen. "Maybe I liked you lookin'."

"Is that so?"

He nodded slightly, "Yeah, not such a bad thing. You're kinda the only one I want lookin' at me like that, anyway."

"You absolute cheesehead!" Your laughter was quiet, trying not to tip Duncan off to your antics.

"You know, they're not just for lookin'," he perked his pierced brow at you. "Feel free to touch whenever you want, too."

"Hm, always knew you were a slut."

He gasped dramatically. "Is that anyway to talk to your host? Especially after giving you refuge from the big, scary, confusing halls?" Your eyes rolled and reached out to pushed his forehead, making him rock back into the pillows and headboard - but he was quick to snatch your wrist as he fell. You were yanked across the slim space, pulled so you were directly resting onto his chest; forearms bracing against his pectorals. He grinned, caressing the back of your head, teasing, "'Ello, love."

"You're a fucking fiend."

"And you're so fucking beautiful."

"I'm already stayin' here, Fi, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

He hummed, "You know... If you were mine, you'd get this treatment all the time. I can't stop - you're just so easy to compliment."

Feeling bold, perhaps from being so close and him being nearly naked, you whispered, "Then maybe you should stop shuffling your feet, grow a pair, and ask me already."

He paused, the moment turning soft as you relax against his body; stretched out the length of him, but still remaining propped on his chest to look down at his sweet face.

"Was a bit afraid to, actually, love."

"Why?"

"Haven't felt like this with anyone," he admitted, "'s just so fuckin' easy with you. Organic, authentic, safe... I was afraid to ruin that, destroy the rapport and friendship we've established. I care about you so much, I just wanted you in my life - no matter what variation that was. Being just my friend, being my girl, just want you with me. Didn't want to jeopardize anything."

"Hm," you considered, nodding slowly, "I get that. Think I felt something similar..."

"So, what do we do?"

"I think we be adults about this," you offered. "If you just want to be friends, we'll stay friends, Fi, but we don't blur lines like we have been. And if you want to give this - us - a try, I think we could. 'Cause you're you, and I'm me, and if things don't work out, we can just go back. Right? Adults do that sorta thing, don't they?"

"Not entirely sure, don't feel like an adult most days," he breathed, petting his fingertips down your cheek. "But I know I want this, with you. I swear, since you came into my life, I've felt - " He paused, shaking his head with a growing smile, "Free? Elated? Light as air?"

"Mhm, I know the feeling," you repeated.

"We doin' this?"

"That's up to you."

"I think it's up to us, actually - "

"I mean, you've gotta ask, Fi, not just assume."

"If you reject me in my own house, in my own bed, doll, I'm gonna be fucking crushed!"

"Oh, my God, just ask me! You fucking knobhead!" You laughed, leaning your head on his chest. His other arm moved behind his head to keep it propped up, looking at you with so much adoration, it knotted your stomach. The hand that had been in your hair drifted down to keep a secure hold on your waist; fingers scratching in soothing motions.

"Wanna be my girl?"

"Hmm, I think you could phrase it better."

He grinned brightly, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh, that's a little too formal. Maybe try - "

"Oh, c'mere, you," he growled, swiftly using both arms to seize under your arms and literally drag you up his body. "C'mon, baby," he whispered, lips ghosting yours, "be my baby."

"Fuck, no, that's way too cheesy!"

"I thought you liked me cheesy?" He gaped, your hand petting his cheek now; shoulders straining to keep you upright, over him.

"Correction, I love you cheesy," you whispered, lowering your head to press a quick kiss to his lips. He hummed in relief, but you pulled back to promise, "I'd love to be your girl, Fi. Only took you the whole bloody school year, didn't it?"

"Hey, good things to those who wait, right?"

"Don't quote Professor Mercy at me when we're in bed with barely anything on, Jesus fucking Christ," you grumbled, unable to restrain your grin when he pulled you in for another kiss - but this time, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

Maybe getting lost in Saltburn was more beneficial than you originally thought, and maybe Professor Mercy and ages of philosophy was right because this felt like the absolute best thing, and you'd wait a hundred lifetimes if it meant having Felix in your arms - like he was now, kissing you like it was his lifeline.

How extraordinarily warm, you felt, to be lost in this world, in this extraordinary home, and found, by Felix fucking Catton.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[potatoplace]

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It’s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

��Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222 @mellowmusings @romantasyreader28

[sweetyyhippyy]

Fever. Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader. *FLUFF*

Summary: Steve wakes up to find his girlfriend is feeling ill. He helps take care of her.

Word Count: 908

TW: Reader being sick (mentions of fevers, body aches, taking medicine). Steve being a sweet boy.

Note: I wrote this when I was in the middle of a cold and all I wanted was for Steve to take care of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was around 2am when he felt his girlfriend moving around the bed next to him, groaning uncomfortably in her sleep. She usually slept like a rock all night, the restlessness wasn’t like her. 

He was quick to turn around, thinking that maybe she was in pain, but she was still asleep next to him, only moving slightly in the sheets. Steve watched her for a few minutes, thinking maybe she was having a bad dream based on her brows being furrowed together. 

“Honey? You okay?” Steve reaches out to touch her arm, immediately feeling heat radiating from her body that was not normal. 

She grumbles, rolling onto her side to face him. “My body hurts.” Sleep still laced in her voice. 

“You feel hot to the touch, baby.” Steve reaches for the lamp on the bedside table, turning it on to see how she was looking. 

Her eyelids were puffy as she looked back at him, the bags under her eyes making it look like she hasn’t slept since last Thanksgiving. 

“I’m going to go grab the thermometer from the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”  Steve rolls out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants off the floor and sliding them on his lanky frame before disappearing into the bathroom. 

She grabs the blankets that had been kicked off her body from the result of her rolling around, and tucks herself under them, shivering into the pillow under her head. A dull ache radiates all through her body, every muscle she had felt like it had been overworked. Somehow her eyelids even hurt.

“Let me see your ear, going to take your temp really quick.” Steve pushes the sheets down past her ear, sticking the earpiece inside until he hears two long beeps. “102.6, honey you’re burning up really bad.” 

“Probably the flu. Lilly and I worked together the day before she called and said she came down with it.” 

“I’m going to get you a cold towel and bring you some water. In the morning I’ll go to the store and get you some medicine and whatever else you need, okay?” Steve rubs the side of her face with the back of his hand softly, making her shiver against his touch. 

“I have work in the morning.” She mutters, sighing sadly. “Dean’s going to kill me if I don’t show up with Lilly being out.”

“You’re not going to work if you’re sick, especially with your fever. Don’t worry about Dean, if he has a problem with you being gone, he and I can talk.” 

Her boss was already on his shit list. There had been a lot of nights she had come home sad because he yelled at her for an honest mistake or was just being a dick for sport. Everytime he dropped her off at work and spotted the twerp, he made sure to stare him down, trying his best to intimidate him without speaking to him.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” 

She nods her head, shutting her sore eyes, mostly because she couldn’t keep them open. 

Steve grabs a small towel, wetting it with cold water from the sink and wringing it out. He grabs a cup of ice water for her too, along with some Tylenol to help start to break her fever. He travels back to their room, finding his girlfriend fast asleep again. 

He takes the washcloth and lays it on the back of her neck, making her gasp and open her eyes quickly. “Sorry, honey. Gotta get your temp down as much as I can. Can you sit up for me so you can take some medicine?” 

She groans as she sits up on her butt, her body almost feeling hollow. Her body sways back and forth slightly as she waits for Steve, her head pounding loudly in between her ears. 

Steve hands her two medicine capsules and a cup of water, the cup feeling refreshing against her hot palm. “We don’t have any actual cold medicine in the cabinet. I’ll get that in the morning at the drugstore.” 

“Thank you, sweetie.” She softly smiles at him, letting the outside of the cup rest against her cheek for a few seconds, goosebumps spreading across her hot skin. She groans as her body shivers, the slight movement making her muscles burn. 

“Do you want another cold towel for your face?” 

“No baby, it’s okay. We should both go back to sleep. I’m exhausted and you look tired too.” 

Steve nods his head in agreement, walking back over to his side of the bed and pulling the sheets back. 

“Stevie, you’re going to get sick if you keep sleeping next to me. Why don’t I go to the couch?”

“No, you’re not going to the couch. I’ll be okay sleeping next to you. Besides, I have to monitor my patient.” He jokes, shutting the light off and sliding back in bed with her. 

She turns away from Steve, placing the wet rag on the side of her neck. She feels Steve’s hands slide over her hip and his chest press to her back. “Stevie, you’re going to catch what I have if you’re this close to me.” 

“Can’t go to sleep without holding you. I’ll be alright.” He cuddles up to her more, this time encapsulating her whole body.

She smiles to herself as she finds his hand and holds it to her stomach, drifting back to sleep for the night. 

[antiquarianfics]

Shower

Sometimes it's all you can do to breathe. Sometimes you need a little help--even with the basics. Bucky's happy to help.

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent comfort fic. Genre: Fluff / Rating: PG Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warnings: Themes of mental illness, nudity. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

---

If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, you knew this was pathetic: lying on the bathroom floor, nibbling on a half eaten pop tart, and listening to the shower run.

“Not only am I gross,” you think, “I’m wasting perfectly good water.”

You sigh, willing yourself to stand up, to shower, to not eat on the bathroom floor. But you can’t.

Depression is weird like that, taking seemingly simple, inconsequential tasks and turning them into battles. You certainly didn’t lie on the bathroom floor, eating pop tarts, while listening to the shower run when you were mentally well.

The truth was: You just got back from a mission. A run of the mill recon mission. You were in, you were out. You did your job. But now you were sweaty, and sore, and unable to do anything for the benefit of yourself. Helping other people? No problem? Helping yourself? Mission: Impossible.

You groan, pulling your towel under your head for minimal neck support as you stare at the ceiling. You can see where condensation slowly develops and drips from the fan, and if you turn your head, you can see the fogged up mirror.

“I’ve been here a while,” you note.

You pull out your phone, checking the time. 9:04 PM. You don’t know when you got back, when you turned on the shower, when you dropped to the floor. The time tells you nothing.

You groan again, throwing your arm across your eyes. You’re tired, and you’re positive you could fall asleep here on the bathroom floor. You know you shouldn’t, but you could… and you haven’t been sleeping in your bed… and you let yourself drift off.

Banging. You wake to banging. No—knocking. You wake to knocking. As you come to, you realize someone is knocking on the bathroom door. You don’t have it in you to stand and open it. You never undressed anyway, lying on the floor in your tac suit, so you call out “unlocked!” and watch as the doorknob twists and the door is cautiously opened.

“Y/N?” The intruder calls softly with concern lacing each syllable of your name.

You groan in response, letting your arm fall from your face as your eyes flutter open. You look up to be met with the ever so concerned blue eyes of your best friend: Bucky Barnes. As he makes eye contact with you on the floor, eyes drawn downward at your groan, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he opens his mouth to say something before seeming to think better of it.

“Can I come in?” He asks cautiously after a moment.

You nod and he slips into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him. He lets himself sink to the floor beside you, pulling your head into his lap both to accommodate his large size in your small bathroom and in an attempt to comfort you. He lets his hand fall to your hair, quietly playing with it. You hum contentedly, eyes fluttering closed again, and you’re grateful he hasn’t begun interrogating you even though you know he’s confused.

Maybe 5 minutes pass in silence. Your mind is finally somewhat at ease from the comfort Bucky brings you, but you know he deserves an explanation as to why he’s on your bathroom floor holding you while the shower runs.

“I…” you start, trailing off before clearing your throat nervously and trying again. “I know this is weird. I can explain.”

Bucky shakes his head, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to, Doll. Lord knows I don’t always explain to you the weird things I do when I…” have an episode, he was going to say. He doesn’t want to call this an episode, though. He’s still not sure what this is. “We all deal with post-mission stress differently,” he says instead.

You huff. “I wish I was doing this because of mission stress.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, just watches patiently as he continues to run his fingers through your hair. He refuses to force anything out of you you’re not ready to share; after all, you never force him to spit his feelings out.

“Bucky, I… I’m not doing well.”

The admittance takes you off guard. You hadn’t even acknowledged to yourself that you weren’t doing well. You’d been avoiding that simple truth, that small detail.

“Yeah. Healthy people don’t generally run up the water bill while they snack on the floor,” Bucky teases gently. You are aware there’s no malice behind his words; he’s just trying to lighten the mood. You cringe, though, when you realize he had noticed the pop tart wrapper and the clear lack of pop tart. Bucky notices you cringe, though, and his light smile drops.

“How can I help, Doll?”

You shake your head. “You don’t have-”

“I want to,” he cuts you off.

You swallow nervously, but nod. You’ll let him help you.

“I, uh. Can you…” you scrunch your eyes, grounding yourself despite your embarrassment. “Can you help me shower?” You choke out the words, hoping he maybe missed them and will leave you on the bathroom floor to sulk.

Bucky smiles encouragingly, not showing any signs that he is bothered or uncomfortable with the request. Instead of running and leaving you to your self-destructive tendencies, he helps you sit up before standing himself, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your own feet. Gently he helps you out of your tac suit that clings to your body uncomfortably from sweat both from the mission and the steamy bathroom. Once your suit is removed, he helps you pull off your sports bra and shimmy out of your underwear. It’s intimate, yes, but it’s not at all sexual. You can’t help but curse yourself for letting the first time he saw you like this be under these circumstances. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You bite your lip anxiously, closing your eyes as you wrap your arms around yourself in a self conscious hug.

Bucky’s gaze is 100% respectful. He keeps his eyes on your face, or the back of your head when you’re turned around, only letting his gaze drop to help you out of your constricted clothing.

He finally helps you step into the shower, pulling the curtain closed as you step in. You let yourself stand under the water, staring at the wall in front of you. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour and are also nonexistent at the same time. You wish you knew how you could think about everything and nothing at the same time.

You hear a soft clinking sound that you’re sure is Bucky unbuckling his belt. Then you hear the sliding of his jeans down his legs, and the gentle grunt he lets out while he takes off his shirt. You’re not sure because you can’t see, but you’re pretty sure you hear him fold his clothes and yours to set neatly on the counter. Finally, he pulls the shower curtain back a little to step in himself.

He smiles reassuringly at you, keeping his eyes on yours. You force a small smile onto your own lips in response.

He’s still in his boxers, protecting his modesty for your sake. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed but you shake your head, chasing those thoughts out of your mind. He’s just your friend—your best friend—and he’s only doing you a favor. As a friend. Not his girlfriend.

Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together in concern as he watches you shake your head, obviously distraught.

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart, look at me,” he says, resting his palm on your cheek. You look at him. “Are you alright?” He asks, searching your eyes for any indication that you’re not.

You only nod. He eyes you suspiciously but drops the subject. Instead, he reaches behind you for your shampoo, squirting some into his hand, before letting his hands fall into your hair, slowly massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

Bucky quietly washes you, stepping back only to let you wash your more intimate parts. His hands on your body are intoxicating. His right is calloused and rough from decades of use and his left is smooth and and warmed from the water, but they’re both so gentle as they run along your body. When he finishes bathing you, he lets his arms drop to his side, and you immediately miss his touch. He looks anxious and unsure of himself for the first time since entering your bathroom, and you realize it’s because he suddenly isn’t sure what to do with himself. Without thinking much about it, you give him a new task.

You step forward into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your cheek against his chest. The action surprises him, but he almost immediately wraps his own arms around you, holding you close. He plants a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ve got ‘ya, sweetheart,” he assures. “I’ve got you.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Night terrors; Mild illness; Minor sexual themes; Allusions to abuse; Mention of scars

A/N: I somehow banged this out with a migraine and a horrible bout of depression, so it may receive further editing. If I change anything major, I’ll highlight it and make it known that there is new content. I’m never confident about my work but even less so this time. This slow-burn is really burning slow because our two damaged, adorable idiots. But they’re making progress! Thanks for sticking with me anyway. 💙

Carol was able to pull Daryl aside early the following morning. When she stopped just below the top step, she could see you were sound asleep on the mattress, curled in on yourself in a way she hadn’t seen for a while. Her heart ached with the knowledge that your trust in her had been damaged, if not destroyed, by two loathsome snakes. 

Beside you, atop a sleeping bag on the floor, Daryl was awake with one arm behind his head while the other hand was busy twirling a bolt between his fingers. He already knew she was there, that came as no surprise. He held a finger to his lips that moved to make a shooing motion as he quietly got to his still booted feet. Carol descended and waited on the bottom step. 

His hand came to rest on the small of her back to guide her to the main door and outside. No way he’d risk anyone overhearing this conversation. 

“What’s up, Pookie?” She grinned at him when he scowled and grumbled under his breath. Why she insisted on calling him that was beyond him. It didn’t make him uncomfortable. Maybe it had just settled into their own form of banter and he didn’t really mind at all. That’s not why he was here though!

Focus, dumbass. “Need ta talk ‘bout Y/N.” He felt his cheeks begin to warm, finding himself pleading with any deity that it was too early and there was too little light for her to see. 

“So I gathered after that hug I saw.” His gaze snapped up to hers, more surprised than angry. She was immediately holding up her hands to bid him pause. “I wasn’t snooping! I had just come inside and you apparently were so wrapped up— literally —that you didn’t notice me.”

He held his intensity briefly before he deflated. “Th’fuck am I doin’, Carol?” He valued her opinion. She hardly ever steered him wrong, fearing he’d be hurt either emotionally or physically and that was not something she was willing to risk. He knew that. 

“I told you before. I think you like her. Here, sit down.” He huffed a breath through his nose but obliged nonetheless, climbing on top of a table with his boots on the bench. Carol took her place beside him. “I think you’re feeling connected with her somehow. Maybe like you and me.”

“Nah. Well…maybe.” He growled and propped his elbows on his knees, his fingers tugging at his hair in frustration. “I know I want ‘er ta be safe, wanna protect ‘er. Feel responsible fer ‘er.”

“If you’re asking my honest opinion, and I think you are or I wouldn’t be out here right now, I don’t think this is a question of responsibility, Daryl.” He let his left hand drop and tipped his head to face her, fingers of his right hand still in his hair. “You want to be her friend and even though she’s scared, she wants that too.”

The archer opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a clicking of teeth. He suddenly felt self conscious, worried that his best friend, of all people, would judge him for the explicit thoughts he was having about you. He decided quickly that he wouldn’t divulge that portion of his plight. It made most of the conversation asinine but why did he ever think he could fess up to something so perverse? 

“I don’t think spending a little more time with her would be such a bad thing. If anything, maybe you could help her feel safe again.” Carol looked down at her hands, picking idly at her nails. 

“Ya gon’ try n’ patch things up with ‘er?” Truthfully, he was grateful to take the focus off of himself for even a moment. 

Carol nodded, looking out over the trees at the first light of the morning that began to stretch across the sky. “Yeah, I will. Maybe when she’s in a better headspace.” 

Daryl tipped his chin down in a nod, unable to manage any words of support before the prison door burst open. Maggie called out, most likely for him, but he was already moving at the sound of your screams, passing over the threshold in only a few large strides. He cleared two steps at a time on his way up, no hesitation before kneeling beside the mattress. 

Nightmares were a part of trauma with which he was intimately familiar. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Y/N. Wake up, girl.” He made sure not to touch you. The presence of hands on you when caught between awake and asleep after a night terror would result in nothing good. He knew from experience. Your head rolled back and forth, tears cascading down your temples, your face red from screaming though you had quieted to moans and whimpers. 

“She woke up the whole prison.” Carl muttered from beside Rick on the steps, clearly annoyed. 

Distantly, Judith had begun to wail; several voices were raised. Daryl turned toward the audience gathered in his space, the discontentment in his glare enough to send them scattering to do damage control. Carol stayed behind, her presence acting as an anchor when he seemed to falter. 

He blocked out everything else, his entire focus on you. He usually woke from his nightmares on his own and retreated, but watching you struggle— watching you suffer —wasn’t something he could sit idly by and do nothing to at least try and help you. It was a long shot, but he carefully leaned across to where you laid, as close to your ear as he could get without touching, and whispered so low that Carol could only watch his mouth move. 

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul n’ sings the tune without the words n’ never stops at all.” 

He felt ridiculous once the first word fell from his lips, but when you began to settle, he blinked and watched you for any indication that you would wake or fall back into your terror. You did neither. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when he stood, careful not to disturb the mattress. 

Carol appeared just as surprised. “What’d you say to her?”

It was a reflex to become defensive but the sharp words died on his tongue. Had it been anyone else, surely he wouldn’t have held back. He never meant to be cold or cruel to anyone. It was in his hardwiring, and he had been actively attempting to alter the circuitry since finding a place within the group. 

“Was a, uh…a thing I read once in school. Kinda stuck with me. Ain’t important.” He was scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, more concerned with the flush he knew had assumed residence on his cheeks. 

Carol leaned around him to see you snoring softly. She smirked and patted his cheek, leaving him there to go help with the calamity in the cells. He was chewing his thumbnail seconds after her departure, watching you from the top of the stairs. 

He removed his boots there, afraid the noise would disrupt your newfound peace. A sudden exhaustion settled over him, his sleeping bag feeling like the plushest mattress at the fanciest hotel— not that he knew what that felt like anyway. He assumed it would probably be more of a distraction than a comfort. He’d rather have a cot or the hard ground deep in the wilderness any day. 

Daryl stared at the high ceilings, barely visible in the darkness that had consumed the space without the flashlights and candles of the perturbed residents. Try as he might to focus on the most trivial things, his thoughts continued to circle back to you. 

There was a rustling of fabric and he let his head roll toward the mattress. You had turned toward him, face still relaxed in peaceful slumber. His blue eyes narrowed, the pinched expression he always had when trying to piece something together. Rolling over, he turned his back to you and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

He was beyond fucked. 

Over the span of the next week, you could take apart a gun, clean it, and put it back together. You struggled with remembering the order of reassembling at first but, to your pleasant surprise, Daryl was alarmingly patient. His jaw would tick once in a while, obviously holding back the urge to rush you. You had smiled gratefully, stifling a giggle at his mumbled curse. 

You still hadn’t spoken, aside from the first day in Daryl’s perch. No, not even to him. He didn’t seem to mind but you caught the few times he’d speak and look at you from the corner of his eye, almost like he was hopeful that what he’d said would merit a verbal response. 

Regardless, it was as if your voice had just locked itself away somewhere dark in the fissures scattered across your mind. You were even more damaged, more broken than before. 

When Daryl was leaving to hunt, you tried to follow. It was one of the few times in this new dynamic between the two of you that he seemed to lose the composure he had gradually been building around you. 

“Hell nah! Ain’t takin’ ya out there and babysittin’ ya when ya don’ know shit ‘bout wha’ yer doin’ in here! Get on back inside!” 

You flinched away with your lip quivering. He didn’t apologize. With a growl of annoyance, he yelled for the gate to be opened and stomped into the forest. His demeanor was different when he returned, a few rabbits in hand. After prepping and dropping off his kills with Carol, he approached you and said it was time for you to become familiar with a gun. 

You thought that pointing and firing was the jist of it. You couldn’t have been more wrong. Just like the ‘stab and pull’ at the fence, you would now ‘disassemble and reassemble’. It wasn’t clear to you why learning this step was important but if Daryl was uncompromising in teaching you, then you would learn. 

You worked hard to familiarize yourself with the weapons, scrutinizing each surface, weighing them in your hands, meticulously examining the parts to see how they fit together. You’d catch the archer watching you while he busied himself with other projects; sharpening his knives, carving bolts, tending to his crossbow. There were a few times that you could have sworn you’d seen him smile. 

The man had become a steady presence, allowing you to follow him and learn the more hands-on aspects of protecting the prison. Once you had healed and felt like accompanying him outside, he had trained you for another day with your knife before allowing you to start helping him clear the fences daily. The meals he didn’t skip were spent eating silently beside you, disappearing long before you had finished. He showered daily, sometimes twice. You overheard Maggie and Carol make mention of how they’d never seen him so adamant to remain clean. At the end of the day, sometimes he’d join you in the perch. Other times, you fell asleep alone.

Those nights were when the men that had hurt you would penetrate your dreams, painting them thickly with a suffocating shroud of black and gray. They would corner you, reach out with their filthy fingers like claws, and you’d cower in anticipation of the pain. Always before a single inch of your skin could be marred, a wall erected itself in front of you, protecting you. A warmth would seep from the structure, enveloping you in a safety that forced the darkness from your dreams. You would wake up feeling rested but always still alone. 

Daryl, on the other hand, always looked tired. The days he appeared haggard and sluggish were when his patience flagged. He would raise his voice before he would seemingly think better of it, walk a short distance away for a cigarette, and return with that kindness again present in his exhausted gaze. 

Today was one of those days. 

You hadn’t done anything to set him off, simply cleaning the .22 pistol he’d given you while he sat on the other end of the picnic bench hunched over the table. He didn’t look at you or even check your progress, simply sitting with his elbows on the table and a hand on each side of his head. It was likely better to leave him be, just continue with your task. Attempting to engage him would most certainly lead to nothing good. 

Then he coughed. 

You made quick work of the reassembling, placed the weapon down on the cloth, and folded your hands on your lap, eyeing the archer for several minutes before he noticed no sound coming from your side of the table. Daryl dropped a hand to the flat surface and squinted red-rimmed eyes at you. He was quite pale compared to just that morning when you’d found him outside. He didn’t seem like he was sick very often. Maybe battered, bruised, and bloody but not sick. 

You pursed your lips and slid down the bench, stopping across from him to lean forward with your arms folded on the table. 

“Wha’re ya doin’?” His voice was more raspy than usual, a rougher edge that sounded uncomfortable. Your head tilted even though he seemed less than thrilled to be under your scrutiny. “G’on. Work on the gun.” He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, a deep sigh shifting into another cough. Daryl turned his face into his elbow and waved you toward the other side. 

You refused to budge. 

“S’wrong with ya? Got a hearin’ prob—” You could see the moment he caught himself and reined in the hostility. “Jus’ take the day. Ya done good. Work on handlin’ the thing tomorrow.” The hunter didn’t wait for you to move. Probably just assumed you would. With his arms now folded similarly to your own, he laid his forehead on top of them with a groan. 

Your concern only grew when he didn’t sense you were still present. With a deep breath, you slid back over to grab the cloth and gun, tucking the weapon into the waistband of your jeans and the cloth into your back pocket. You would be lying if you didn’t admit to feeling a small amount of anxiety while approaching him. You needed to repeatedly remind yourself that it was Daryl and he would never hurt you. 

When close enough, you placed a hesitant palm against the back of his head. The archer flinched and quickly bolted upright, startling you in the process. 

“Th’fuck, Y/N?” He barked hoarsely. Your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers loose on the too warm skin in case he pulled away. You motioned for him to follow you with the slightest tug of his arm. He was definitely confused but without knowing what you needed, he followed obediently. Your hand remained around his wrist. 

The gloom inside the prison only made Daryl look worse. He was clearly exhausted and battling what seemed to be a cold. Hopefully nothing more than that. He said nothing as you guided him up the stairs and stepped out of his way upon reaching the top. Brow knitted, he pressed the heel of his left hand against his forehead. 

“Gon’ explain or ‘m I gettin’ three guesses?” His voice strained at the end when he tried and failed to subdue a cough. Ducking your head to catch his eye after the spell, you pointed to the mattress. “Huh?”

You deadpanned. Daryl was anything but dense. He had to be sick if he wasn’t understanding what you were trying to accomplish. You realized that your hand still held his wrist and walked backwards to urge him along, stepping up onto the mattress with what you hoped was an encouraging smile. 

Daryl did not appear to be encouraged. Wide blue eyes vibrated as he attempted to look between your own. “Y/N.” He was gentle when he extricated his arm, stepping backward with a shake of his head. 

It was your turn to be confused. You simply wanted to get him to lie down on the— oh. It started as a giggle but soon you were actually laughing, damn near startling yourself. The befuddled alarm he was wearing so exposedly gradually recast to a warm focus. You placed your palms flat together and positioned the back of a hand against your cheek with a tilt of your head, closing your eyes. 

The archer’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, his face taking on a pink hue that you definitely noticed before he ducked his head and knelt to pull the laces on his boots. It was possibly the first time you would attach the word adorable to any description of the man in front of you. Daryl was quick to redirect your regard with a finger toward your own boots on the mattress. Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you hopped off, removed the gun from your waistband, and plopped onto the sleeping bag. 

“Yer stayin’?” 

You stared, incredulous. Of course you were staying. He was sick, no matter how mild. He had stayed with you while you recovered. Why wouldn’t you return the favor? You nodded and patted the mattress. 

There was an obvious uncertainty in his approach, movements hesitant, deliberate, as if you would spook and bolt. You wished you could find it in you to speak, to reassure him you were okay and you wanted to stay. 

Your confusion regarding the archer was slowly resolving into a confident trust. You were still plagued with doubt and sometimes overwhelmed with questioning curiosity that would result in a reluctance to be near him. It was that gentle luster that would appear in those pretty eyes, subtle and carefully concealed behind an opacity but easily discernible by someone who had been shown nothing by cold cruelty continually for so long, that would coerce you to stay. There was so much more to Daryl than he allowed the world to see. 

He sighed when he finally allowed the side of his face to sink into the pillow, turning his head to cough into the softness. You’d have to wash it once he was feeling better. Quick work was made to settle the blanket over him before his shoulders had stilled from the minor fit, his eyes appearing heavy when he rolled his head back toward you. 

“Don’ hafta stay.”

Your smile and gentle tilt of your head said where else would I go? Daryl hummed quietly, eyes slipping shut. He was asleep within moments. Maybe his lack of rest was responsible for the cold. As far as you were concerned, he could sleep until he could physically sleep no longer. Maybe you could persuade others to let him rest. 

Your knees pulled to your chest, one arm around them so you could rest your cheek there. The other hand ghosted across the fringe that had fallen over the side of his face. His skin was warm but not enough to frighten you. Maybe you could ask Carol for some tea and broth, if there was any available. You needed to speak with her anyway. Well, not really speak. Regardless, you wanted things to go back to how they were.

Dainty fingers continued to stroke across the archer’s forehead, finding an odd sense of comfort in the ability to touch him without inhibition. His demeanor while in your company was in constant fluctuation but rarely relaxed. He appeared younger in sleep, face slack without creases or pinched skin at the corners of his eyes. 

You wanted now more than ever to find your voice. You wanted to tell him how hard you would try to learn quickly. How dependable you would be once you could take care of yourself. How valuable you’d make sure you would become. You wanted to thank him. Others in the prison had done so much for you, but none more than Daryl. 

Daryl was the reason you were no longer under Big Jazz’s thumb. He was the reason you were there at the prison at all. He was training you to protect yourself and to protect others. He made you feel safe. Even with the sporadic apprehension, there was the constant blanket of safety when Daryl was near. If he hadn’t looked for you that day not too long ago… You pulled your knees impossibly closer to your body, a dull ache inside at the reminder. 

Daryl coughed beside you but didn’t wake, even with your fingers now carding through his hair. In the quietness of the moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate how handsome the archer actually was. You had seen the first day, when he had bargained for you. Rugged, rough around the edges, but handsome. For the first time in a very, very long time, you pondered intimacy that didn’t involve subjugation and pain. You wondered how it would have felt if Daryl had taken your offer that first night. Would he have been gentle? Would he have tasted you? 

Those potentially pleasant thoughts couldn’t last once your mind pulled forth the images of him under the spray of water in the showers. Regardless of your name groaned from his lips, you could only see the raised ridges and puckered flesh littered across his back. What had he been through? Had it happened after the fall of the world? Who had hurt him and why? Carol had told you nothing and it was not something you felt you could ever ask him about. It wasn’t your business. 

Still… the thought of someone hurting him, it made you feel something you weren’t sure you remembered how to feel. 

Anger. 

You had spent so much time being conditioned to submit, remain quiet, please, you had forgotten the burn of bitter hostility toward another person. Someone you didn’t even know. You were more than justified in your hatred of the men that had taken you, tortured and defiled and humiliated you. Justified but felt so strange. Finding resentment toward an unknown person for a wrong against a man you barely knew was stranger still. 

Yet, that’s exactly what it was. You wouldn’t hesitate a single second to drive your knife home into their skull, living or dead. You’d stab them over and over, one for each raised mark on Daryl’s flesh. 

A sound from downstairs startled you from your thoughts, a simple day to day chore of some sort that was not meant to raise alarm. Still, it frightened you. Most things did, but it was getting easier to control your reactions. You realized moments later that your face was damp, the hand hovering just over Daryl’s forehead was trembling. More than that, you suddenly felt drained with an exhaustion that left you dizzy. 

Needed nowhere around the prison— your only focus meant to be training with Daryl —you decided it wouldn’t be frowned upon if you were to rest while the archer did. Most knew that wherever he was, he would be instructing you, and would only seek him in the event of an emergency. In that case, the hunter would want to be disturbed. 

Sliding down the sleeping bag, you reclined onto your side and faced Daryl, worrying your lips against one another before you reached onto the mattress and placed your palm on this forearm. He didn’t stir but inhaled deeply, seemingly settling deeper into slumber. The contact was comforting and hopefully a level of noninvasive that he wouldn’t mind. Either way, it was enough to allow you to easily follow him into a restful, dreamless sleep. 

** What Daryl whispers to reader is an excerpt from “Hope is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson

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[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra When everyone is sick

I am sick. And because I am sick, I thought about doing some thing dealing with some of the COD characters with not just you, or them, or your children sick, but Everybody sick. Let’s be honest one person just doesn’t get sick and then the other people are fine in the household most people if one person gets sick, the whole household runs with that same disgusting germ. If you are a squeamish 2, the usual illness that includes potential, throw up, fevers, coughs, mucus, and whatever else comes out of the crusty eyes of everybody who is sick, then this story might not be for you. Enjoy~

Also, if you want to leave a question, or ask for a theme for a head cannon, or a short story, please feel free to use the ask box!  It’s always open!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: sicknes and other related things, fluff

Captain John Prince

• It started when the girls came back home from school.

• At first they just had sneezes which you didn’t think much about but then the next day their sneezes have turned into coughs and sore throats.

• There was no fever, so you still sent them to school with a packet of Halls for each of them and some kid friendly medicine.

• It was around 2 o’clock and you were almost ready to pick them up from school. When you receive a phone call from the teacher letting you know that your two children have a fever.

• A day later you had caught whatever bug they had caught

• And now your young toddler, son is also down with whatever.

• John is much more susceptible to colds and can handle them. He was doing his best to make sure that everybody was taken care of.

• It honestly broke his heart, saying that his whole family was practically crumpling underneath this little illness.

• He made sure to stay on top of the medication and would do his best to help you with the kids when they weren’t feeling good.

• To make sure that he didn’t get sick, he decided to sleep in the guest bedroom.

• Makes the best chicken noodle soup this side of England!

• Reads to his children while keeping a safe distance from them.

• If you’re burning up and not feeling well, immediately gets a bath going for you.

• He wants to be close to you and the children again and he misses hugging them and you.

• One of the only people that does not get sick.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• You two had eaten some thing that did not settle well in either of your stomachs.

• While, Simon was capable of looking like he wasn’t in pain, you were a different story.

• You were throwing up almost every hour and your stomach hurts so bad.

• Did I forget to mention you’re pregnant with his first child?

• Simon does everything he can for both of you.

• He make sure that you both take the medication on time and he’s very precise with keeping you guys on track of drinking water and taking charcoal pills to eliminate any toxin in your body.

• He’s asking you if you are OK.

• Even though this wasn’t his fault, he still feels like it is.

• You remind him that there is nothing, he could’ve done since neither of you knew that the food was tainted with something.

• He rubs your belly at night, trying to ease the pain that you are feeling, and that your child are experiencing.

• At night, you hear him throwing up. You see him crouched on the side of the toilet, puking out whatever liquids were in his stomach.

• By the time he’s done, he all butt collapses on to the floor, exhausted.

• You help him up and he get him to brush his teeth then you to go back to bed with one trash can mirror each of your bedside.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Johnny and you had come down with some thing.

• It was a cold, rainy day in Scotland while he and you were hiking.

• You hadn’t expect it to rain so soon.

• It has been a beautiful day out on the highlands when suddenly you got drenched.

• You were now wet and cold and you had at least half a kilometer away from your car.

• Johnny made sure to get you warmed up with a nice hot shower and to make you guys both some soup.

• You could tell by his face he wasn’t feeling good either.

• Another good news was that you made sure to have the freezer stocked with soup bases, and stock as well as soups for cold days and emergencies.

• You to sit on the couch, cuddled together in your blankets, trying to stay warm and drink your soup.

• You take some Advil before heading off to bed.

• The next morning you feel worse than you did.

• You could hear Johnny moaning as he was puking up his contents from dinner.

• His puking caused you to have a chain reaction and you started to feel the bile rising up.

• Next thing you know you’re racing towards the bathroom to throw up as well.

• But it’s too late for you as you suddenly release most of your contacts on the bedroom floor, staining your carpet in the process.

• Johnny sees this and does what he can to finish up with his issue before coming over to help you at least make it into the bathroom before a second wave hits you.

• Your whole body is burning up.

• You decide to start a hot bath for both of you.

• You’re shaking for how cold you feel.

• Johnny does his best to keep you both warm.

• He lays a ton of kisses on your for head as he whispers that it’s going to be OK.

• He is very clingy and wants to be holding you and touching you at all times.

• Some thing about sharing body heat to keep you both warm.

• Just an excuse to hold you.

• He also promises to do a better thorough check on the weather the next time.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Gaz was the one that got sick first.

• You’re not exactly sure how he got it. He just came home with a cough and a scratchy throat saying it was nothing.

• The next morning, he woke up with a lot of pain in his throat, and it was making it difficult for him to breathe properly.

• Worried you take him to the doctors and you find out that he has strep throat.

• The doctor gives you the medication you need to help treat him and suggest that you stay away from him as best as you can.

• This hurts both of you since you both want to be close to one another especially in the time of need.

• Gaz makes a phone call to price letting him know that he won’t be in at base due to strep throat.

• Captain Price wishes him well and sends him a speedy recovery.

• Gaz hates taking medicine. He’s not a big fan of bitter stuff.

• But he will do anything if you get to play nurse for him.

• Slightly clingy, but not nearly as clingy as soap.

• Whines a little about not feeling well.

• He doesn’t complain much because he knows you’re doing your best and he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re not doing your best.

• He falls asleep faster if you’re in the room sitting in a chair next to him.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• The commander is very similar to John. He rarely gets sick, but he hates seeing you get sick and more importantly he hates seeing his children get sick.

• His youngest daughter started not feeling very good a couple of days ago.

• His little baby girl was sent to the hospital to make sure everything was OK.

• She had just picked up the bug that had been passing around the area.

• Do you love watching your husband take care of his baby girl.

• He acts as if her life depends upon him solely to take care of her.

• The other two kids are advised to stay away from their youngest siblings room until she’s feeling better.

• They write her all cards, telling her to get well soon.

• Your two eldest children help you make fresh broth, so that their sibling could have some nourishment.

• Alejandro also knows that he is potentially at risk for catching whatever she has. So in order to keep the disease from spreading, he also sleeps in the guestroom.

• He does miss not being with his family.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Your son has always been a weak child from the beginning.

• Since the moment of birth, Rudy and you had to go to the doctors office quite more frequently than what most babies had to go into because your son suffers with autoimmune disease.

• When he was first born, you almost lost him, because he was so weak and born as a preemie.

• Thankfully, he has gotten a lot healthier, but it still considered a very small baby even for his size.

• It was one of those days where he was not feeling very good. While a normal cough or sneeze doesn’t harm a person can absolutely destroy your son.

• Rudy and you are in the ICU making sure that your son is in good hands and being watched over.

• Rudy is nervous but he chose not to show it for you.

• He loves his son dearly and wants the best for him he wishes that he could take his sons pain away.

• His son had to get some IV drips into him.

• Both you and your husband will stay in the hospital for sometime.

König

• Nothing beats a good day, playing out in the snow in Austria, however; that day will be very short-lived as the whole family gets whammied with an illness.

• The only one that isn’t sick is your baby boy who is staying with his grandmother for the time being as the rest if you get healed up.

• König is not a very healthy person. He doesn’t necessarily have an auto immune issue, but he does catch colds a lot faster, and he sustains them a lot longer than most people.

• Unfortunately, this means that all the work is put on you.

• He really wants to help with the responsibilities, but he can’t even move out of bed without the world spinning, and he hast to collapse back onto the sheets or risk blacking out.

• His girls fare better and you’re doing OK with just a sore throat and a slight fever and mixed with a headache.

• Since you are all sick, you decide to just all cuddle up together in bed.

• König is passed out fast asleep, and the two little girls are squirming around, trying to get comfortable.

• You’re doing your best that you can and you’ve already gotten the medicine from the doctors for the girls and your husband and yourself.

• One morning you wake up to somebody brushing your hair and you look up to see König with some hot coffee ready for you.

• He was feeling a little bit better this morning and wanted to do something nice for you.

• He feels really bad for not helping you with the girls even if you tell them it’s fine.

Alex Keller

• You’ve got pneumonia.

• Alex is like a Labrador retriever.

• He will get you anything that you need or want.

• He woke up in the middle of the night

• He then heard you crying, which helps him get up faster.

• You are in pain and the rattling in your lungs is the evidence of that pain.

• Alex does everything that the doctor prescribes you.

• You have to wear a nebulizer for a few minutes every handful of hours.

• He brings you clothes in his arms as you two are watching a TV show while your nebulizer is wrapped around your face, making a Low hum as it is pumping you with the steam.

• The way you’re laying on his leg is making him uncomfortable, but he’s not gonna say anything to you.

• Right now he’s focused on making sure that you are OK.

Philip Graves

• Philip has never been one really to get sick.

• He Springs back from a lot of things really quickly. It would literally take a bomb to put him under and even then he would still find away.

• He’s not feeling good but he’s got work that Hass to get done and no amount of stopping him is going to keep them from doing his work.

• That is until you get up into his face and pretty much force him back down on the couch when he tries to leave with a 102°f (39°c)fever.

• He grumbles about some thing for Work stating that he can’t miss on his job.

• So you make him go to a doctor and you find out that he has Covid.

• He gets a doctors note and calls in sick from work.

• Yeah, you’re petty.

• You make sure to get the bedroom set up nicely for him and also make sure to have water by his bedside so he’s not dehydrated.

• He grumbles more about how he can handle himself.

• You threaten to call his mom.

• He shuts up.

• He now begrudgingly has to deal with you, tending to his care

• The worst part is he actually enjoys it, and will find any excuse for you to be near him.

• He will ask five or six other times to bring him more tissues, or to fluff up the pillows or tuck in the sheets a little bit more.

• He tries to kiss you after every task, but of course you dodged them telling him he did not want to get Covid.

• He just gets grouchy again.

• Once he’s better, he plans on taking you out to dinner for all your hard work and making him feel better .

[ilwonuu]

I so love yeosang smutty fanfics. Can you please please do one for me where she's an atiny and them two got paired in the same hotel room by accident due to the hotel. He enters while she's in the shower and so forth

Please and thank you

yes yes omg ty for the request!!! i literally hope this isn’t too bad… I LOVE THIS IDEA BTW I HOPE U LIKE

˚₊‧⁺˖✮coincidence✮˖⁺‧₊˚

↴ kang yeosang

⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

➶ summary- the universe gives you a one chance opportunity to be in a room with your idol.

➶ warnings- protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to fucking lmfao, pet names (pretty, angel)(yeo), neck kisses, kinda softdom!yeo, lmk what else

➶ a/n- i literally LOVE writing for yeo sm<3

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you have just gotten back to your hotel room after to seejng ateez. you are completely drained wanting to quietly change out of your concert outfit. you make your way into your bathroom getting into the shower.

yeosang wanting the same as you as he unlocks the hotel room. he makes a weird face at the sight of other peoples clothing on the floor. he curiously looks at the bathroom door. seeing the light and the shower is definitely on. he gets a little scared now.

meanwhile you are just finishing your shower as your idol is casually in your hotel room. you get out of the shower after hearing a faint voice. “um excuse me? i think you’re in the wrong hotel room.” you hear the person say through the bathroom door. “one second please!” you call out quickly grabbing a towel to cover yourself opening the bathroom door. “i just paid for this roo- yeosang????? what the fuck yeosang?” you are shocked beyond shocked. he is standing. right in front of you.

“yea? what.. im sorry miss but i think you have the wrong room.” he repeats himself. you shake your head suddenly. “no- i just paid for this room when i got here..” he is now confused. “do we need to talk to staff?” he says.

yeosang’s eyes slowly trail to your figure as you’re standing in front of him naked under the towel. “im gonna be honest you can do all that. i just went to your concert and im tired.” he laughs at you softly. “i just performed at that concert you think im not tired?” his voice is inviting as if he is waiting for something. his eyes are still on you as you smile at him. “i really cannot believe im talking to you- okay! anyways i honestly don’t mind sharing if you don’t. ill sleep on the couch.” you say before going to grab your things but he stops you.

“no need. i can sleep on the couch.. of course you take the bed.” he grabs his stuff moving it away from the door. “o-okay..” you curse at yourself for stuttering. but how could you not? the boy you just saw on a screen is now in front of you. in your hotel room. and he looks more attractive in person. he’s so sweetly spoken and polite with his movements. you’re watching him as discreetly as possible.

he pretends to not see your glances. you see him kick off his shoes and other accessories he had on him. “i know i interrupted your shower but can i shower when you finish up?” he moves closer to you as he asks you.

you just nod without a verbal response. “this is kinda weird right?” he says being a few feet away from you. “i mean yes- but i swear im not a crazy fan. but gonna be honest as long as i didn’t scream” you say laughing. he just nods.

“what if i wanted you to scream for a different reason?” he looks at you with a curious expression.

“w-what?” you are embarrassed with your stuttering but yeosang’s words are far more important at this moment. he just moves closer to you in the bathroom.

“need me to repeat it angel?” he chuckles a little stopping after seeing your still shocked face. “did that make you uncomfortable because if it di-“ you cut him off with a addicting kiss. him now being caught off guard but kissing you back nonetheless.

your towel falls of your body due to yeosang pulling you to lay back on the bed. you moan into the kiss at the cold air against your damp body. “what do you want pretty?” he asks as he leaves a trail of wet kisses against your shoulders. “f-fuck me yeosang..” you don’t care about your stuttering anymore. just wanting the boy to touch you. you are beyond to needy to care.

he nods at you. “are you sure?” he caresses your cheek. “yes please..” you squirm as you feel him spread your legs. “you’re fully dressed and im naked! take these off.” you pull his shirt over his head.

beyond shocked at his chest. its not like you haven’t seen some of it. but all of him in front of you. he looks so sexy you might die. he’s just laughing at you as he kicks off his pants. leaving him in his boxers hovering over you slightly.

you feel his hand move down to massage your thighs softly making you moaning quietly. “let me prep you alright pretty?” yeosang’s words making your arousal drip onto your thighs slightly. the nickname fully making you submit. “p-please yeosang touch me.” he doesn’t waste anytime. his fingers collecting your arousal as he rubs them up and down your slit teasingly. “touching you now pretty.” he smiles at how his actions cause to get a pout out of your for more. “y-yeosang please…” you are now crying out for him and he’s barely done anything.

you feel a finger slide into you causing you to open your legs more as he starts to fuck it into you. “you think you can cum from this angel?” he looks down as your expressions are just changing with the pleasure. he mentally takes that as a yes answer. he begins to speed his fingers up faster curling them to hit the spot you need him most.

“fuck yeosang don’t s-stop!!” he has a smirk on his face as he pulls his finger out. you whining at the loss of pleasure. “be patient pretty. giving you what you want hm?” he smiles at you as he looks at you. “let me grab a condom.” you nod watching him grab it out of his bag. he is already back to you.

you watch him as he pushes his boxers down to free his dick. him groaning at the new feeling. his dick looks big. bigger than you thought it would be. it makes you a little nervous but you want it. he rolls the condom onto his dick before he lines up with you. “ready pretty girl?” he questions you again. “yes yeosang- f-fuck.” he hears the first part of your sentence cutting you off by pushing inside you.

he starts to fuck you shallowly and slowly causing you to moan. you head is thrown back as he lives kisses against your neck. “you okay pretty?” all you can do is nod with closed eyes and your mouth open spit spilling just a little bit.

yeosang thinks you look beautiful like this. seeing you fucked out and its all for him. his hips speed up causing you to moan out.

you look at him through clouded eyes. taking in every little detail of the boy in this moment. he is using your waist for support. chest and head sweaty causing a few strands of hair to stick. his face is in a pleasured expression as it mixes with his focused one. he is making sure you feel good always checking your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable.

“yeosang r-right there please don’t stop.” you pleading out to him as every thrust he is hitting the perfect spot. you’re mind is so fuzzy you can even think of your name. you are completely lost in pleasure.

“yea pretty? this spot feel so good?” he teases slightly now stopping his movements. him hitting the spot over and over. you feel him start to kiss your neck again. you’re moaning at all overstimulation of touch. you love it. you love his touch and his words. he knows how to make you feel perfect.

“s-shit pretty im gonna cum.” you hear him say causing you to open your eyes a little more. “me too yeo.” he curses at the nickname as he continues to fuck you. “fuck angel so fucking wet.” his eyes are on your cunt watching his dick fuck in and out of you. “im cumming yeo!” you yell out coming undone on his dick. his cum shooting into the condom. as he slowly rocks his hips inside you. getting both of you to ride out your highs. he pulls out of you. pulling off the condom and throwing it in the trash. you watch as he heads into the bathroom coming back with a damp rag.

you smile at his gesture. “this okay?” he asks before you nod. him cleaning you up gently.

“maybe it was a good thing with hotel messed up the room huh?” he asks causing you both to smile. he finishes cleaning you up before standing up. “im gonna shower! after you want to cuddle?” he asks grabbing a few things out of his bag. “sounds perfect.” he smiles at your response before running off into the bathroom.

[f9clementine]

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enchanted to meet you ⋙ 09. pick up the phone.

⋙ written part included 『••✎••』

The ringing was unapologetically loud. 

You groaned, reluctantly reaching out from your cocoon of blankets to grab your phone off the nightstand. You squinted at the screen, seeing Binnie’s name flashing at you before you swiped to answer the call. “Changbin, someone better be dead or so help me.”

He chuckled, completely unfazed by your threat. “Well, I was worried you were, to be honest. No one’s heard from you since yesterday morning.”

You frowned, pulling your duvet over your head. “I could’ve sworn one of you was here yesterday?” You mumbled, thinking back to the distinctly male figure that had been standing over you at some point. “Or was that a fever dream?”

“Definitely wasn’t any of us, unfortunately. Maybe San stopped by to check on you?”

You shook your head, then winced as a it throbbed. “No, he’s away on a work trip. Maybe he asked Wooyoung to stop by?” You asked yourself before sighing, “Well, whatever. I’m not dead.”

“I have class until 3 today but I can come by and bring you some soup and gatorade, if you’d like?” Changbin suggested.

“I never got to the store yesterday, so that would be amazing if you can.” 

“Bet. I’ll see you in a few hours, Y/n. Get some rest, yeah?”

You nodded, stifling a yawn. “Trust me, the minute you hang up, I’m going right back to sleep.”

Changbin laughed, “Bye Y/n.”

“Bye,” You couldn’t help but smile as you pulled the phone away, seeing Changbin had already disconnected the call. You put your phone down and retreated further back into your sheets. 

You could already feel your eyes getting heavier, the lingering illness making your senses feel fuzzy and dull. But a slight stretch connected your foot with something heavy next to you. “Kitty? Did you come to give me ‘get well’ cuddles?” You whispered, excited to think that the feline is trusting you more and more.

Slowly, as to not possibly scare him off, you re-emerged from the blanket pile, turning over and expecting to see the cute little gray cat curled up next to you.

You were definitely not expecting to see a full grown man asleep instead. 

You screamed, throwing yourself out of the bed as he jerked up, eyes wide with surprise. You fell to the floor, scrambling back as you made eye contact. 

“What- who- why-“ you sputtered out, unable to form a coherent sentence, looking from him to your phone on the nightstand. “Cops- I’m calling the-“

“No, wait!” He shouted, lunging forward the same time you did. He reached your phone before you did and held it out of your reach. “Y/n, please, just listen to me, okay?”

“You’re in my fucking bed!” 

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and you frowned, “wait a minute. Aren’t you-“ you blink then gasp, realization dawning on you. “You’re Chan’s roommate!”

He nodded, “Right, I’m Minho. We’ve met a few times?”

“But you’re in my bed!” You repeated, gobsmacked,

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He paused, cheeks flushing red as he turned his head, clearly embarrassed.

"How did you get in my apartment?"

"Technically, you brought me here." He mumbled, still unable to look at you. "It's a long story but my bonehead roommate turned me into a..." He sighed, finally turning to look at you again. "He turned me into a cat."

"A cat?" You blinked, frowning. "You're not telling me... you're Kitty?"

He nodded, "That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"But why are you in my apartment then?!"

"... We’re going to need to call Chan.”

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[mx-jinxous]

I wanted to get this out last night due to me being busy today with my bday, however I got too sleepy to function. Better late than never. I will try to take everyone to the best of my abilities, but depending on tumblrs restrictions I also have it up on my ao3 here

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

The last time he felt this level of unclearness, had been when he beat his keg stand record, followed up with too many shots. He’d been a junior trying to chase popularity and ended up waking up on a stranger's bathroom floor. Safe to say the hangover felt shitty, like a knife tapping the inside of his skull in rhythm with his heartbeat. This was worse.

His body was freezing, which emphasized the aches that plagued his body. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised his body had fought off illness for this long. Not having a balanced diet or a proper shelter was a decent way to get sick and without insurance, he was just going to have to power through it.

A shiver rushed through Steve’s body, and the young man used all his strength to bundle the blanket around him. A hand stopped him when it pressed against his forehead, causing a groan to escape from him. He tried to bat the hand away, another hand pressing his back down by the shoulder. Someone was saying something, but the words were garbled like he was listening from underwater. It made the throbbing in his head worse and weighed down his body. All Steve wanted to do was go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, his visitors decided that that wasn’t on his schedule. He was grounded to alertness by gentle slaps to his cheek. With a growl, he attempted to slap the hand away, only for his wrist to come to a jolted stop. Against his body’s protest, he cracked his eyes open, expecting to see Gray. The man in front of him was far too young to be the security guard.

“Ah, there he is.” The man smirked as he slapped Steve’s cheek again before backing away.

“Careful guard, he is still ill.” A woman’s voice came from beside him, making the young man take in his surroundings.

The room was bland and dated by at least a few centuries, with nothing much for decor aside from a few chairs and a sofa. To be honest he felt like he was in an exhibit at the museum with a lack of character. If that was the case then he was going to be in a world of trouble with his boss.

Fingers snapping in front of his face brought him out of his head. The shaggy-haired man was looking irritated with him like he expected an answer. Steve only stared back, refusing to speak with how shitty he was feeling. Shaggy Man seemed just as stubborn, leading to just both of them staring back one another down. It came to a stalemate when the woman spoke up. “Guard, if you would please state your business. I am in charge of the captive and you are impeding my healing.”

“He does not require healing, not until we receive the answers, which is more important if I should remind you.”

“You can not interrogate a dead man. You are allowed three questions but do not trouble him. He must rest.” The woman seemed to mean it if the shaggy man’s silence was to answer. He glared at Steve, who was done with this conversation and wanted nothing but pain relievers and sleep.

“What is your name?” He rolled his eyes at the guard before directing attention to the doctor. “How did you get into the burial chamber?” His silence only seemed to anger the guard. “Answer now!” He growled, grabbing Steve by the forearm. He pulled his arm into view, pointing at his wrist. “Where did you get this!”

The glimmer of gold was all it took to recall the events of last night, his body filled with fear and anxiety, the young man trying to escape the bed. He was jerked back into place by the restraint on his other wrist, his eyes traveling to what held him captive. It was a cuff chaining him to the bed, keeping him trapped once more, at the mercy of these strangers.

“Focus!” The shaggy man growled, drawing Steve’s attention back to the guard. “How did you get this bracelet?!”

With a scoff, he pulled his arm free. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll gladly give it to you.” As to prove his point, the young man went to pull it off, only for it to stay fixed in place. He struggled with it before the guard threw his head back with a groan.

“It is magically locked in place you nitwit. Until we break the spell it will remain adhered to your wrist.”

“Magically? Is this some kind of joke? What are you going to do, pull a rabbit out of a hat?” He scoffed at that, glaring at Steve.

“Stop being ridiculous. Do I look like a summoner to you? Also, what would a rabbit do to solve your issues?”

“Wha-?”

“Alright guard, my patient needs healing and rest. Please allow me to do my job as I allowed you to. You can finish your interrogation once his health has returned to a more lucid place. I will call for you at such time.” Steve expected a retort, an argument to break out due to whatever drugs the guy had been taking. Magic wasn’t real, despite the bracelet being adhered to his wrist, or the night before with the statue. Maybe he’s just been sick and it was all a fever dream. Gray probably found him and he’s in some kind of historical hospital.

“Just keep him locked up and send for me when he is coherent again.” Without a response he left, slamming the door. The woman tutted before turning her attention back to Steve.

“I apologize for his attitude, he is just cautious. My name is Joyce, I am a healer. I have waited till you woke up before asking to heal you. I can do it magically or with traditional methods. I know some humans are averse to magical methods, however, it will relieve your ailments in time for the guard's second round of interrogation. I understand he will not be swayed again. The king requires information on how you got into the burial chamber. “

“You too? This is definitely a fever dream. There is no such thing as magic, it's all smoke, mirrors, and illusion.”

“Oh dear, you must have hit your head. I assure you I am a rather talented vitamancer and you will need all your strength. I am sure King Kas will be ruthless when he comes to question you.”

Steve froze. The nightmare seemed closer to reality at the mention of the statue. Had he been kidnapped by the marble man, taken to some crazed cult that believed in magic? It was too much to focus, covering his eyes with his forearm. He couldn’t bare to face the king, especially not in his current condition. He felt faint, the world spinning as he tried to calm himself.

“Oh sweetheart, do not panic. I will make sure you are well enough if you allow me.” Joyce held a hand up, glowing a faint yellow, and offered with a kind of smile. She seemed sincere, calm, and patient. She made Steve’s freezing body feel warm and he found himself nodding. He doesn't recall the next few minutes beside a glow before the world returned to dark.

Joyce left him under the guards at his door, nodding at the two as she warned them to leave the intruder to rest. Her robe dragged behind her while she strolled up the castle stairs, to the king's private office. It’s where he felt the most confident in addressing issues with his advisor before the court. To say she wasn’t surprised that the others were already there delegating to one another. Her arrival went unnoticed as the king's personal guard and guard commander were arguing. Kas stood, rubbing his temple, Joyce noting the headache that was forming.

“He has been uncooperative, delusional, and quite frankly an ass.”

“You were not there when the guard retrieved him. He looked like a traumatized wet dog. I highly doubt he is lucid enough to even register where he is.”

“Chris, Gareth, please calm your voices.” Kas groaned, looking up to see the newcomer. “Joyce, you have spent time with the intruder. What do you have to say about him?” Eyes dragged to the healer, one of the elders of the advisors, looking to her as the voice of reason.

“It is hard to say. He has been incoherent most of the times he awoke. The fever has taken a toll on him, affecting his memories. He seems lost on how he got here and magic as a whole. I did heal him and he is resting. The guards are aware that the only visitors outside this room are food delivered by the guards. Once he is awake and fed, then we shall be able to question him. You have my sign Liffey.” Joyce instructed.

“Understood, then I will personally accompany Gareth. If this stranger is working for Lord Vecna and infiltrated our walls then we will retrieve all the information possible with any means necessary.” Kas demanded.

“His clothing was certainly strange.” Gareth huffed.

“He will get a moment to state his case, I for one am looking to get some answers about our dead man walking.” Kas sighed. “Joyce, once he is alert and fed, calls for us.” The woman nodded, excusing herself. She left, taking a detour to the castle garden. In the center were her twins, Will and El, practicing magic. They were playing with a bush of roses, wilting before returning to their vibrant state. Unlike her eldest, the twins had been born as diviners, much like their paternal grandmother. Their father was the only non-mage in their unique family, her three children house unique magic.

She watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of the youngest taking joy in their magic. Looking off to an opposing garden corner, seeing her eldest, Jonathon backed against the gardener. Argyle was a down-to-earth Druid, who seemed to take a fondness for her son. Joyce knew the two were closer than friends, it was clear how the druid grew a flower and tucked it behind the younger healer's ear. Young love always warmed her heart, to see her children happy.

Pulling away, she called out for lunch, planning to check on Steve when they finished. She didn’t make it past the appetizer before Gareth came running into the dining hall, with a patrol with him. Joyce stood, concern painted on her face at the notice of their city gear. “What is going on?”

“I will stay in the castle. If he tries to attack then I will be here for the king.” With a nod, the young guard had the patrol out of the castle grounds.

———————

Tag list, if you’d like to be added (or I missed you) state so down below. There are some that would not allow me to tag, I did leave them in and I will look into it as soon as I can.

@steddieas-shegoes , @steddie-steddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @roastingdragon @oblivion-void @just-a-tiny-void @lilangeldevil006 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @izzy2210 @weirdandabsurd42 @throwbackthrowaway @steve-the-hairrington @loser-of-hearts333 @croatoan-like-it’s-hot @gingersass @alto-delete @anaibis @limbs-are-optional @thephantomhood @itsall-taken @jamieweasley13 @imfinereallyy @yeahhh-suga @awkotaco24 @aliea82 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @stxrcrossed186 @emly03 @elviraenthusiast @siriusleeart @fxrgetmenott @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @noctxrn-e @spicysix @renaissan-vvitch @lovelyscot @goodolefashionedloverboi @teelagurl558 @seilahtitania32 @sparky--bunny @dontslayfay @amrice @pluckedstrings @plyerice27 @vae1bixy @grtwdsmwhr @vacantwatchers @8em-em-em8 @stevesbipanic @commonxsenss @sani-86 @suikatto @callmesirkay @spideysteveloml @neeerdrage @quevadilla @p0lybl4nkk @thetrueghostqueen @ok-just-why @eyesofshinigami @oxidantdreamboat @platinum-sunset @milottadoodles @chillichats @kyysposts @bookworm0690

[ihaznoclue]

I'm here for you

Pairings -> Glamrock Freddy x Reader

Warnings -> Swearing? but like everyone swears -_- also not proof read because I can't be fucked

Note -> Glamrock Freddy helps you feel better after not feeling well || This post is basically me not feeling well as my mental health is going down by the second and plus Glamrock freddy is like my comfort character ong

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Glamrock freddy (I literally love him so much)

Today was a horrible day, you woke 3 times during the day feeling Ill, 2am, 4am and then 5am and you stayed up until 6am to go to work.

You didn't want to get fired or anything so you went to work while you were sick which was a bad idea to be honest

2 hours in your shift, you're urge to just vomit right then and there was about a 7-10 which was really bad but you didn't want to cause a scene that had children around

So you went somewhere private in a room where no-one was at or in, you then sat down on the cold floor underneath you as you silently cry a little

You didn't like crying in front of people but here you are crying like a little bitch just because you were feeling unwell, you literally had a worst night and now you were having a completely worst day today

You just hoped that no-one saw you or heard you crying in a room all by yourself just because you would cry so more when people look at you

You then stopped as you heard heavy footsteps coming to the door and then you heard a knock on the door gently

"Miss Name?" It was Freddy, the cute and cuddly bear that can wash all your worries away with a simply hug

"Y-Yeah" You tried to not get your voice to crack from all the crying you did but Freddy knew something wasn't right

"May I come In please?" He softly asked, you could tell his worried tone made you feel guilt that you made him worried even though he might of saw you earlier ago before you went off

"W-Wait just one second" You called out trying to wipe your tears away before Freddy comes in, then after a few seconds you then allowed him to come in

The door opened as you saw Freddy's face, he looked terribly worried for you

"Miss Name, are you sure you're okay, it seems that I heard some crying from this specific room and I just wanted to make sure you were okay"

"Thanks Freddy but I'm fine now.." You reassured him but he didn't move or leave the room instead he went to you as he sat down next to you on the cold floor

"I can tell you are not telling the truth, I can see the tear stains on your cheeks" He then leaned his finger to softly wipe some tears that were still going down your cheek, he then move his finger under your chin to make you look up at him

"Please, i want to help"

"I'm just having a shitty day, and I didn't get a good sleep as I kept waking up and I felt Ill earlier and I have no idea why I'm crying, I'm sorry if I worried you Freddy"

"You don't have to apologize Name, If you need anything I'm here for you"

"Can You stay here with me for a while until I feel better?" You leaned your head on his fluffy shoulder, feeling his warmth as you slightly nuzzled into him

He also smelt like vanilla and caramel, you heard a deep chuckled making your head move with his shoulder as it bounces up and down

"Of course, I'll stay here with you until you feel better"

"Thank you, freddy"

This is basically for me to feel a little bit better as today I went to school quite sick and lonely as I had a hard time until I went home early and today didn't get any better as well as my sleep as I kept waking up. And tomorrow is going to be a really hot day like around 29 degrees and I don't know if I should go to work placement T-T

-A<3

[ellenhghg]

Head cannons For ff7 boys...ZAAAAAAACK (above all) for when they're super sick, puking...literally can't keep water down? Fever? I dunno just sick as heck.

They're favorite comfort or care routine to receive from their lovers?

Thank you for your request!! ♥ ♥ Took me a bit because of busy days. But! I have some headcanons + a drabble. I hope you like it! ^^

Super sick Zack Fair headcanons + drabble

♡‧₊˚ Zack is usually the epitome of health and energy, so when he’s hit by an illness that knocks him off his feet, it’s a pretty big deal. He doesn’t get sick often, but when he does, it’s a mess. ♡‧₊˚ At first, Zack tries to play it off like he’s totally fine—he’ll be stumbling around, barely able to keep his eyes open, insisting he’s still up for a sparring match or a mission. But it’s obvious to anyone looking that he’s not okay. ♡‧₊˚ When Zack finally accepts that he’s down for the count, he completely gives in to it. He’s suddenly the biggest baby in the world—pouty, clingy, and constantly asking for reassurance. “Babe, am I dying? Be honest. Cough, it’s bad, isn’t it?” ♡‧₊˚ Zack gets really whiny when he’s nauseous. He hates throwing up, and he’ll do anything to avoid it, even if it means curling up on the bathroom floor for hours. He’ll beg you for anything that might help, even if it’s just holding his hand or rubbing his back while he’s miserable. ♡‧₊˚ Zack is the type to tearfully ask "Do you still love me even though I'm all gross?" And of course you have to shower him with reassurance and affection. ♡‧₊˚ Zack's favorite comfort routine when he's sick is having his lover, you, run your fingers through his hair and massage his scalp. It's the one thing that can soothe him to sleep. ♡‧₊˚ He's a sucker for a good old-fashioned cold compress on his forehead. He'll sigh dramatically and proclaim that your healing touch is the only thing keeping him alive.

♡‧₊˚ Soup is an absolute must. But not just any soup - he wants your special homemade soup made just for him. With extra noodles. ♡‧₊˚ Don't even think of suggesting medicine. Zack will avoid it like a plague. You will have to gently insist it will make him feel better. While petting his head of course.

Zack groans miserably, huddled under a mound of blankets. His face is flushed with fever, dark spikes of hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

"Nngh… (y/n)? 'Zat you?" He croaks, one bleary eye cracking open. "I think I'm dyin' here…"

You smile fondly, perching on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, you brush Zack's bangs back, fingers lingering on his overheated skin.

"You're not dying, you big baby," you tease gently, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. "It's just the flu. You'll be back on your feet in no time."

Zack whines pitifully, nuzzling into your touch. "Doesn't feel like 'just the flu'… Feels like a herd of chocobos ran me over, then backed up for round two."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Well, that's what happens when you insist on training in the rain, mister SOLDIER. Even your mako-enhanced immune system has its limits."

Zack pouts, but there's a sparkle of mischief in his glassy eyes. "Aw, c'mon babe… You know I gotta keep in shape! Gotta make sure these guns are locked and loaded, in case you need a big, strong hero to sweep you off your feet…"

He tries to flex, but the motion turns into a coughing fit, his whole body shaking with the force of it. You rub his back soothingly, waiting for the spasms to subside.

"Alright, Casanova, that's enough flirting for one day," you scold lightly, helping him settle back against the pillows. "What you need now is rest, fluids, and plenty of TLC."

Zack's face brightens at that, a hopeful grin tugging at his chapped lips. "TLC, huh? I like the sound of that…"

He waggles his eyebrows, or tries to - it comes out more like a drunken wobble, his coordination shot by the fever. You snort, flicking his nose gently.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Fair. I meant chicken soup and cuddles, not… whatever your fevered brain is cooking up."

Zack sighs dramatically, but there's a content gleam in his eyes as he snuggles into your side. "I suppose that'll do… for now. But once I'm better, you'd better be ready, babe. The Zack Attack waits for no one!"

You roll your eyes, but can't quite suppress the grin tugging at your lips. Wrapping your arms around your silly, wonderful boyfriend, you press a kiss to his sweaty brow.

"I'll hold you to that, hero. Now get some sleep - I'll be right here when you wake up."

Zack hums happily, already drifting off in your embrace. Even sick as a dog, he still manages to make your heart flutter with his irrepressible spirit and zest for life.

[onyourhyuck]

His Healer. | S.JH

— Prologue: “Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.”

— Summary: Prince Johnny has an eye condition allowing him to only see black and white. You’re the new maid arrange to clean his chambers you found out his secret illness.

— Genre: Prince!johnny. Royal romance + smut. Maid + prince trope. Super angsty to be honest, this is kinda sad and depressing story.

— Notes:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The news of a new job becoming open spread fast in your village which made you act on your time. Everyone would die to have a job in the palace where the people work there in luxury. It felt like the best work offer there.

Lucky for you, you ended up becoming recruited fitting to the palace description and the needs they were looking for in a young woman like you. To become a Maid.

Not just any maid however, a maid for the prince. Every royalty has their own section of the palace that belongs to them; they have their own court, where nobles who are friends with those royalties will attend to play games, chat away about god knows what gossip and get self made tea from the maids. For you it was the prince. You were assigned under his name even though he hasn’t quite picked you, the king and the queen thought of you suitable.

They trusted a young girl like you who’s had a pretty face but also a determined outlook to be loyal to your job only. So they set you out to have your very first job to clean the Prince’s chambers where he sleeps. You didn’t think much of it because you heard the prince was out so it’s not like you’re going to get caught cleaning up the living hell’s mess he has on the freaking floor; the clothes were not even his some of them were bunch of dresses belonging to noble ladies. It was an unsatisfying experience picking up the clothes folding them under your hands and then proceeding to grab the hem of the many duvet layers they had on the giant king size bed. You swore this bed was bigger in real life than you could imagine.

Lifting the duvet’s embroidered on the bed puffing them out you crawl on the bed on all fours to go get the pillows. You begin fixing them puffing the material out making them bounce and thick once more. You wouldn’t want the prince to get a stiff neck by having the pillows be uneven and disturbing. Your hands crawl to the front hem of the duvet pushing them into the mattress making it look neater and cleaner giving it a slick texture. Later you came to the night stands were your eyes glimpse of two folded papers revealing names to the assuaged colours you couldn’t help but wonder why did the prince have that? But the minute you’d turn around you saw the door to the left open wide revealing the prince coming out of the bath chamber where a singular large bathtub was with foaming smoke behind him, it was a hot bath because the minute you saw him coming out while you’re on his bed on all fours — he was a smoking silhouette.

Your jaw came undone gaping at the bottom sight of the pelvis growing out into the many abs he has. The only thing covering him was a robe underneath the waist making sure it doesn’t slip out while the other towel was gently ruffling out the hair side to side to dry it quicker. Johnny’s stare went from being there to staring you down on the bed watching your maid dress guessing who you could be, it wasn’t hard to guess, you were doing maid duties. But the position you were in while on his bed made him snicker thinking otherwise.

He definitely came out at the wrong time.

Johnny saw you quickly get off the bed and look down bowing at him to pay a respectful image and apology to the noble man in front of you.

“Your highness. I’m sorry I was just… cleaning your chambers. I wasn’t aware you were here.” You bite your lips together sealing them tight like they were an envelope.

Johnny raised his eyes coming forward chuckling he found you surprisingly amusing and he hasn’t met you yet. He knows every maid of his but you must be new because if you weren’t he’d remember your pretty face that’s for sure.

“It’s quite alright I’d think you were doing your absolute best to make my bed tonight comfortable and war.” He boosts playfully catching you off guard. He was nothing like they said him out to be. He was handsome in person, actually more handsome than words could capture and describe. He was rather sweet and playful something that you found to be interesting considering his parents were strict and stern. They terrified you.

But not their son, he didn’t scare you once. Johnny slips out the blouse putting it on and then seeing you turn around letting him change. Johnny fully knows you wouldn’t peak and even if you did, no harm it in because he has nothing to hide. He’s fit and probably the fittest in the palace. He changed while you weren’t eyeing him, you only faced the wall in front of you so seriously that by the time Johnny was finished long time ago changing he was standing behind you.

You slowly turn around saying. “My prince are you done—“ and while you saw him standing there so close you could feel his chest hit your face nearly, you flinch up staring at how close you were.

Johnny’s twisting smile makes you fold because you’ve never seen someone as beautiful as him so close you could never forget this moment of time. Your memory will be definitely photo-snapping this.

You hush your words down. “I will continue to my duties my prince.” He grins nodding. “Don’t let me keep you from your work miss…?” He said watching you curiously.

You look back at him. “Y/n is my name.”

He smiles. “Miss Y/n. Beautiful name you have there. Tell me when we’re you assigned to my chambers?”

You were busy fixing the shelves that held so many books, brushing them away from the dust growing on them. Johnny was sitting on the bed’s edge watching you reach from the books each and one of them were dust without mercy. You couldn’t allow the prince to have any dust in the sleeping chambers god knows what that could do to him.

“I’ve been assigned today.” You reply with a strained sigh as you push the books in the shelves when they were all done and dusted. You’re turning around walking to the night stands where you saw the dust boiling on there, you sweep with your hands. Johnny hums turning around because his eyes were glued on to you, following you run around to clean. It was nerve wrecking to say the least.

Being watched while you clean wasn’t your favourite activity but he’s the prince you cannot say other wise. Maybe it was nerve wrecking because it’s him watching you.

You pause as you lift out papers with all colours of the rainbow. The seven colours you couldn’t help but wonder why the prince had that there. You turn around with your hands gripping it and the prince turns around fully seeing what you had fun.

“My prince why do you have the colours on the paper?” You couldn’t help but file your curiosity.

His smirk goes down and he slowly stands up but very softly brings the hand to grab it. You let him take it and Johnny stares at you murmuring as if it was something to be ashamed of. But nonetheless he can’t keep a secret from the maids. They always find out but there was a good feeling you would be different if he just told you. You wouldn’t gossip, you know you wouldn’t.

Johnny replies croaking like a broken bookcase. “I cannot see in colour. I have an eye condition that lets me see only in black and white.” Your curiosity dims down when hearing this terrible thing Johnny has. You look down apologetically again, feeling sorry for him. “Oh I’m so… sorry… I was prying on your shoulders.”

He shakes his head smiling. “Oh don’t be. You were bound to find out one way or another Y/n. If only someone taught me honestly. These colours. It’s not like I can go and ask anyone in the castle what they are.” He smiles sitting on the bed again watching the paper intensely.

The people would look down on him if he were to ask anyone what the colours are because this was children knowledge but the truth couldn’t get out anyways. The prince’s parents King and Queen told him to keep it a secret forever. The maids weren’t allowed to gossip and he somehow had a feeling you’d be different from the rest of them. It was a good stomach bug he had about you.

You could tell he was dreaming to be normal but in your eyes there was nothing wrong with him. He was perfect in your eyes even though he couldn’t see in colours. You sit down next to him murmuring, a suggestion that brought his heart to grow warm.

“I can teach you if you’d like.” You say to him.

Johnny smiles suddenly with eyes widen watching you like you were day. “You know how to read?” He was amazed when you nodded. He couldn’t believe it when you said you were self taught. It was rare to know a maid who’s well literate; only the rich could afford to do so. But you’re self taught and it made his respect for you grow ten times more.

You grin. “It’s the least I can offer to do for you my prince.” You were right about him being the most kind soul you’ve met. Maybe he was a little unserious but apart from that he was probably the sweetest soul you’ve encountered.

Johnny nudged you softly eyeing you with practically heart eyes for you. He couldn’t believe you were offering and he didn’t even thought you’d consider it as much as it caught him by surprise, he was glad today he met you.

“You can call me Johnny when we are alone like this. You don’t have to keep up with the honourifics Y/n.”

You never felt so exposed unlike the time he calls your name through his lips so casually, like you could speak to a friend, it somehow felt more natural when Johnny said it but when you try to call him by his name it was such a foreign concept your brain couldn’t handle.’

But he was right. If he wasn’t a prince he would just be Johnny. If he wasn’t who he was right now he’d still be Johnny and by the end of the time he will only be Johnny. It was only a matter of time till you get used to it.

Your eyes follow the prince’s round orbs like they were the sun and you were just a mere small planet following them close. “Okay…Johnny— I mean my prince— i—!” You pause catching your breathe.

To see you lose your head for a whole minute trying to pick an identity what you could call him was an amazing and interesting sight to see you fumble. It’s like seeing two people at war together trying to see who is right and who is wrong.

He chucked at you, finding this relatively amusing. “Y/n I have a feeling we’ll be able to get along very well.”

You smile hearing the prince think so too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When no one was around it was your and Johnny’s world no one else’s. No one coifed to the world you and Johnny made when you were together being yourselves absolutely no one. Although it took some time for you to open up to Johnny only seeing as Johnny and no one else when you finally loosen down you and Johnny were able to communicate with one another more than you would with other people. For once the prince felt like he has a friend who isn’t someone who cares for the image, or the status like many other people do. You were there because you enjoyed the company as much as he did and that’s what made Johnny like you.

“Red is this one. It’s like a bright colour. It’s warm and our blood is red.” You explained, knowing Johnny loved you describe the colours.

He could listen for days.

“And this one?” He points at the paper on the rainbow diagram. Your face looks at it softly explaining with a serious face.

“That’s blue. The colour of the ocean.”

He enjoyed seeing you become serious too.

He liked how you’re intellectually speaking. You have your views not many would agree upon you speaking but with him you can say anything and he’d be an unbiased judgement. You think it’s ridiculous that nowadays people are treated differently based on from working classes and what you do for work. Johnny agreed because it’s the exact similar thing with him. People don’t treat him like he was human they treat him like he was a god they worship.

It was both intense different scenarios but from yours it was depriving and from Johnny’s it was enforcing titles.

You’re both very opinionated but you’re always speaking the truth to one another where you’re never hiding anything.

When you aren’t near Johnny because the head of Maid’s who assigned the work to the other maids like yourself were told to help clean the gardens or the different rooms that weren’t in Johnny’s section of the palace he found himself longing to see you and missing you gravely — at one point Johnny was looking for you and saw you cleaning out the kitchens.

He made himself comfortable watching you in the corner which the other workers in the palace, like the chef and the cooks who you were helping would eye him suspiciously wondering why he was here. And then when you left he’d follow you like a lost puppy. You enjoyed his presence so it never weirded you out if anything it made your life better.

The people around the prince would question why he looks way happier than before to you, he found himself wondering why but all that came to his mind that was an answer was: you.

Now you’re both laying on the open field outside the palace where you both escaped to. It was middle of the daylight and the young prince was not feeling doing prince-royal-stuck up duties in the palace so he found you working on the second floor of the palace and dragged you when no one could notice you leaving the group of maids. You were about to clean the carpet today but not anymore because the next minute you knew Johnny said he wants to leave the palace grounds and you’re coming with him.

That’s how you’re now laying on the grassy field with the most handsome man alive next to you laughing and throwing flowers at you that he prickled off the ground. You would turn around and smack the flowers he’s throwing at you away and then you would straddle his arms away but he was far too stronger than your body.

“What if they find out we are here Hm? Will you take responsibility for me losing my job?”

You were teasing him while asking a true and real question that’s been on your head.

“I’ll just make it impossible for them to fire you, you know that.”

The prince responds to your liking but something he was so passionate about as he pulls you down grabbing your legs and sliding you underneath him where he straddles you. The grassy field poofs out some flowers flying out of your way as he was pulled on top of you.

You smile at his words that always creep into your heart making a home in them. Your smile widens on your beautiful face mesmerising Johnny as he looks down at you while being on top where your bodies — especially your chests were touching one another. Through the maid outfit you were everyday when working made your cleavage visible when you lie down thanks to the corset underneath. While his prince royal outfits made him standout-ish. Even though he hates flashy outfit he made them look ten times more better when he wore it.

It’s been a month since the day you both became friends behind everyone in the palace’s backs. You were sneaking off doing all sorts of things so you could chat away from your problems. You both were using one another as an escapism to your loneliness. To Johnny’s loneliness actually. You were the best thing that’s happened when the palace hired you. He couldn’t get enough of you, and only you he was seeking everyday.

If without you there was a moment in space and time where you were not with him he swore that he would be a different person, a different man that he wouldn’t know; he doesn’t want to be that person who doesn’t have you. He needs you to the point he’s trying to never let you go. Whenever you’re needed somewhere else he wants to go there with you, he wants to come and be with your presence even if it was through a little while. It could really make a difference to how he’s been clinging onto you.

Your cheeks grow out when you smile, you were the happiest with him around. You’ve came to an conclusion about it a few nights ago.

Johnny seeing how your happy wide smile was there he slowly leans downwards capturing your smile into a loving soft pecking kiss.

It was only three seconds. Three seconds it was when he gave a small kiss on your lips catching you off guard. He pulled away to see your reflection wondering how your reaction was like but to his face you were watching him so blindly.

Your voice comes out like the softest of sounds. “Please kiss me again.”

Johnny leans closer capturing another kiss to your command. Your mouths were softly press on one another rolling on the ground as you were in your tangled bodies in the meadow fields, kissing outside the palace like your absolute time depended on it. Your hearts were in synch like your own hands were in your each other’s hairs.

The prince pulled away first to solely undress himself taking off the blazer and the trousers instead of you undressing him. He was far too impatient and knowing your lack of time he was going to make this happen, you on the other hand took your dress off and the corset away from your body.

You and the prince roll your naked bodies on another again in which you felt his mouth latch to your neck sucking on it with kissing motions as he grabbed your hips strongly pushing them on his lap where your voice came out as a striking moan loud enough to attract the animals nearby. But thankfully the river down below if you walk for another two minutes was heard rocking against your soft noises he was so wanting to play on repeat. You sounded heavenly.

The way his name rolls off your tongue with your accent it made it so much better when he was going to be inside you. His mouth felt like scorching embers burning your skin from the inside to the outside. He marked you so much but enough that wouldn’t get you caught, further the point he stretched out out with his tongue. Going down giving you kitten licks to your pussy that’s been craving him from day one.

The taste of you on his tongue was indescribable to even think about he was addicted, physically he couldn’t stop sucking on your folds between your pussy making you arch your back on the field or the way you were twisting when he purposely digs his head deeper on your clit rubbing his tongue side to side in another zig zagging motion causing you to feel your fullest muscles work together to contradict your soft moans you were trying to bury down. Johnny made it impossible to be quiet because he didn’t want you to be. He wanted to hear you like it’s your last time.

“Johnny…! I’m going to slip…!” You murmur into nothing stopping you anymore as you shriek. Johnny practically moans against your pussy watching you now come undone on his mouth. He swore you tasted so much better than he could ever imagine and hope.

“You taste so much better than the palace foods.” He mentions boosting, something within you will forever remember that.

You felt yourself pant heavily as the sight of the prince lifting himself up slinging your hips with him where you could feel the growing manhood now push inside your wet hole. You slip in so nicely he lets out a string of long sleeves grunts and you wrap your arms on his chest.

Your breathing became unstable as you rut your hips on his lower body pushing him in fully, Johnny stares at you with half eyelids open filling him with pleasure and lust, but also the need for you.

You were both panting in the next minute when your pussy was stretched out by Johnny’s large cock inside you moving like a canon in and out constantly having you under the pressure of wanting to orgasm once again. Your highs were coming in fast and letting you rot on his cock Johnny couldn’t even remember how many times you came because next thing you know you’re here squirming out your biggest orgasm yet after the other. You’ve been hit on high with his cock pushing up your womb. Johnny’s hands roams your stomach surface like he was so proud of seeing him imprint on your stomach seeing you through him you couldn’t believe your eyes knowing that he was this far inside you.

“How’d you like the prince to finish inside you, my love.” He quotes into your ears and your eyes widen dilating on the pupils, he knew you liked it when he saw that crazy look on your face. Something screams you love getting bred and Johnny would gladly breed a hole like yours for days.

“My prince… please! Finish inside me. Use me to your advantage.” You achingly let out and Johnny couldn’t believe his ears how well you were doing with squeezing his cock. You really wanted him to finish inside you and you’re making it harder for Johnny to last longer than anticipated.

It was unending for you and him. Johnny only seeing him once in your stomach skinned out he came instantly in you filling your hole out with only his name, with only his load something you were screaming for to have and now you have it working inside you.

You could feel the way his warmth cock left its territory in on you and Johnny capturing a few more kisses with your sweet lips groaning out.

“We should do this more often, Y/n.”

Your cheeks grew warm when your eyes met Johnny as he said this. You’re both naked in middle of a field where anyone could see you but you both didn’t care at this point.

You smile kissing his forehead. “I agree.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The minute you split apart was the time where you were both scolded for not being around for your duties. Your order was to go to the chambers and clean up the mess the prince made. You knew he made a mess purposely to have you keep coming there because otherwise you wouldn’t be inside his chambers when he needs you.

That explains while you’re in his king size bed laying on the right side with your legs wrapped around and your arms on the side watching you guys stare at your eyes like they were a million stars in them. You smile cheesing when Johnny plays with your hairs twirling them around his fingers or sometimes putting them behind your ears, and occasionally he strokes it back so he could see your eyes.

You were in trouble but that’s all because of the prince you knew it. But you couldn’t care anymore because he made every worry melt away like it was nothing but a bunch of smoke.

He whispers. “Did you get shouted at alot?” He says worrying that you may of gotten punished.

You shake your head humming. “I was only shouted at. I didn’t get the capital punishment.” You joked and Johnny held you tight lowering his eyes. Something definitely wasn’t right.

Your eyebrows furrow seeing the worrying expression on Johnny’s face you couldn’t help but slowly wonder what’s happening to him. Usually he would be the one who’s lighting up the mood but now you’re the one left in the light and he was in the unusual dark cloud mood that’s what makes him standout now so weirdly.

Your voice came out as a surprise, spouting off at him. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Johnny didn’t answer for a whole minute until he pulls his arms away staring up at you. He was in this whole overthinking mess and you don’t know what could be making the young prince so much more absent minded.

This wasn’t the prince you know. The prince you know was the life of the party. In fact he we’re beginning to be bigger than life itself and you seeing him down on energy right now made it even worse because now you’re worried for him.

“My parents said they found a match for me.” He said lowering himself into multiple pieces where your heart sank.

You look away suddenly about to leave because you had the biggest reality check of your life happen to you right now. The man you love was getting married, the man you fell for was never going to be yours because people will talk and people love to talk about things that aren’t following the norm. You and Johnny were doomed from the start and somehow you had lingering hope that he would he yours but he’s ever going to be that.

Johnny grabbed your wrist so you couldn’t leave his bed. He pulled your wrist in his grip and when you turned around with tears in your eyes wanting to snatch it away.

You huff out breaking down. “Let me go Johnny.”

He didn’t let go.

You bit your bottom lip now begging. “Your highness let me go please.”

The unfamiliar name you’ve been calling him now wasn’t for Johnny. It wasn’t for the guy who fell for you it was the prince you work for in his own palace. Johnny looks at you unconvincingly he was struggling to want to let you go.

But the way you were watching him sternly made him pause and let you go. You left the chambers with the door shutting tight. The lingering footsteps dim down and he never wanted to scream so much in his life. It felt like the happiness leaving his life forever, because you were leaving.

The minute he knew when you both returned from outside his parents calling him to the meeting with him to tell him about the upcoming engagement of his to some princess from the east of Korea.

He never wanted marriage. He never intended on marrying ever but that was until he met you.

“You’re my only heir you need to get married and successful claim your lineage to the throne.” His mother tapped on the throne seeing Johnny.

Her son looks away scowling. “I don’t want to get married, Mother, I don’t know the princess either.”

Johnny could remember the moment from the afternoon like it was happening right now. It haunted him.

His father stood up glaring at Johnny for speaking back to his own mother, it was shameful to his father to have a rebelling son.

But for you he’d rebel the entire throne.

“You will marry the princess and you will be meeting her tomorrow. That is end of discussion.”

Johnny never plans to let you go. Even if you’re the first one to do so.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re preparing decorations for the welcoming of the new royal family coming over to the palace, you however weren’t looking as happy as the other maids next to you who gossip about the new princess coming over. It fills your empty stomach with rage and nothing else knowing the man you love so dearly is about to be sweeping off his feet when a nice looking princess comes over.

You were basically feeding the lion in the den by working away. You clench your eyes into a glare fixing the flower bouquet with the ribbon.

One of the maids watch you roughly handle it. “Uhm Y/n you’re supposed to be gently tying the ribbon.”

You look over snapping out of your thoughts and your feelings were disappearing the moment one of your maid colleagues came over.

“Oh…right sorry.” You couldn’t believe you were nearly killing a bunch of flowers knowing damn well she will have Johnny fall for her.

I mean who wouldn’t of? You heard she’s the most beautiful princess in whole of Korea and you know that Johnny was a player in the past. It was clear the first day you came to clean his chamber’s he slept with plenty of women. But some deep part of you hoped he picks you, despite knowing well it’s a slim chance of you ever ending up with Johnny.

You felt betrayed almost. But you knew he can’t go against the throne or his parents because if he did it would be going against the world.

“Ladies the prince is coming!” The head of the maid said making everyone of the girls line up straight to greet the prince who was trotting his way to us.

You were pushed into a line straight up your shoulders and your head low. The minute the prince arrives walking past the maid line he saw each and one of them bow down paying respects to him this early morning on a new brand day.

He stops facing you suddenly and your gaze looks up at him. It was rather cold from you and you felt awkward when the rest of the maids stayed bowed down because they can’t get up until he leaves.

But he was facing you, speaking to you.

“Y/n.” He whispers almost and you widen your eyes looking away avoiding your eye contact.

Your hands push him when they couldn’t see. “Leave.” You say to him and Johnny bites his bottom lip in frustration as you pushed him away, once again. You’re so stubborn sometimes, he can understand why you’re being like this but is it too hard for you to stop and listen to him?

When he had no choice but to walk away with another heartbreak down his sleeve made by you the maids watch him strut away and they go back doing their work. They have to work faster because they will be arriving soon.

But you couldn’t work much when all you’re filled with is envious betrayal on your heart.

It’s like setting up your own lover to be with another. Johnny wasn’t even your lover but it definitely felt like it was that.

The next thing you know the whole palace was decorated in many fine refining decorations and designs. The walls were repainted into a pastel colour to suit fitting for the princesses arrival. It annoyed you at the same time, the idea of the princess coming and staying at the palace. You had no choice but to fake a smile and go along with it. Everyone was pleased by the outcome results and if anything they were happy for the prince who might finally settle down with someone, have children with, carry on the monarchy and lead the country into greatness once more.

But all you saw was heartbreak.

The royal family made their way into the throne room where they were greeted by many palace guards on stand watch patrolling the walls within the palace securing their grounds till they leave to further the work. The maids were pouring the warm tea on the cups resting by the table, the minute you saw the beautiful puff out dress on the young woman you swear you were never starstruck until now. She looked beautiful, beyond anything you’d imagine any else.

The queen and King welcome the princess’ and her family in like they were there own family members. It was cheerful greeting enough to make your thoughts flood back to negativity. You look away when the king turns his sweet attention to his son.

“Johnny what do you say to the princess?” The king saw an opportunity to introduce the two young people, with a sheepish smile.

Johnny couldn’t believe his father was trying to set him up with someone he could care less about. The prince looks at the woman bowing his head. “Hello Princess Haewon.” The young woman smiles bowing her head in return.

“Hello prince Johnny. It’s good to finally see you in person.” She smiles sweetly you could vomit into the teacup and serve it to her, god you try to stay less petty but you cannot help it.

‘I’d like to say likewise but it’s not.’ Johnny’s thoughts mourns in his death knowing that it was meant to be a blessing. But it’s not because this woman wasn’t who he seeks.

You were right there and Johnny felt the tension rise until the parents were soon to discuss dinner plans. Heck they were discussing all sorts of plans at first; starting with horse riding activities, maybe even attending Johnny to hunting which Haewon seemed more than merry to go about.

“Oh you must be tired. How about my servants lead you into your chambers for tonight?” The king encourages chipping the fingers at the servants and few maids to come forward.

“Oh Y/n, you can be assigned to the princess chambers instead.”

You stand by the side when the king called you specifically. Johnny’s eyes widen as he stood up suddenly making everyone in the throne room look at him with their eyes glued in confusion wonder. His voice strikes at the king and protectively coming to Y/n holding the side where he stares at his father in the eyes.

“Father Y/n is my chamber’s maid.” He remarks, the king was stunned looking at his son. “I’m aware but you have many maids who clean for you. Give Y/n to Princess Haewon.”

“She can have any other maid but Y/n.” He stated firmly and the King was left in confusion. “Why is that?”

Johnny looks down at you. “Y/n is the only one who knows the temperature i like my bed at. I will not stand in giving Y/n to anyone.”

Haewon’s eyes were watching you dreadfully. It caught everyone in surprise enough to give the impression that Johnny was possessive of you. You could feel everyone’s eyes simply eating you alive until the king gives up.

“Fine. Haewon you may have another maid assigned to you.” The princess nods at the king’s approval.

Johnny looks away. “If so i’ll be taking my leave.” Without saying anything else the prince leaves and grabs you along with him. The people in the palace room were deeply bizarre about this announcement as soon as you both left the room fell into awkward silence.

Just what on earth was that? They all had this expression that couldn’t possibly be processing the impression of the Prince.

The minute you found yourself running away with Johnny you were pinned by the wall nearing a corridor that’s been empty. No sign of palace guards patrolling leaving only you and a very self conscious prince pinning you by with a heavy pant. You found yourself arching your eyebrows at him huffing out and slapping his shoulders in annoyance. “What the hell was that back there huh?” You couldn’t believe he was there arguing about who you were working for and who you were not. Johnny stares down at you momentarily. “I’m not giving you up.”

He said sternly catching your attention into a prancing contest between staying in or staying out. You watch him in disbelief. “Your highness we can’t be together.” You whisper yelled, trying to get a point across to the stubborn man but he couldn’t budge and listen to your reasoning.

“Oh I’m your highness now?—” He suddenly bursts pulling away with a confused expression and the eyebrows arching at your words leaving the soft lips. You never call him highness, it’s always been Johnny. Always when it was just you two.

You held your breath in and the eye contact. “Yes you are and that is the problem here Johnny! You’re a prince and we will never be together.” — it broke to hear you say this to him when it was in fact a massive reality check to the prince who loves you dearly. But you were right and he couldn’t accept such a realm without you in it.

He lowers his gaze suddenly the legs felt weak like they were melting on the top of the ice berg where you were standing there holding back your tears. “Give me up don’t make this harder than it already is. We have no future together. If they knew — you would’ve been punished. And I would be dead.” You blunt out looking away. “I would be dead in a prison cell and your parents would have punished you.”

There was a sharing silence that kills the both of you quietly like a gas poisoning your insides turning them rotten just like how your love was breaking apart. Johnny can’t handle this breakup, this heartbreak from you he cannot be without you. It physically tore him apart like he was nothing but a piece of paper ready to be scrunched up and thrown into a trash can midway through the air. Your conflicted self was in a war between wanting Johnny but a large part of you self restraining knowing you weren’t able to; the best and better option is for you to run away from your lover, let him have a life he could thrive in unlike the life he would suffer with you.

The prince standing there no longer blocking the way he was just staying there watching your cold and broken eyes crying because he knew, he knew you loved him so why couldn’t you accept him? Johnny could always convince his parents. He could. He’s the heir and no one would say anything about him being with you, at least that’s what he will do no matter what it takes. But you’re being far too realistic in your own head. You had your own take vision on what will happen which left his dream to be crushed, just like how you were crushing his heart in your hand into miniature pieces resembling a broken mirror.

Johnny’s sullen face dimmers like the life leaving him. “Y/n there must be another way… I promise I can protect you from the public—“

“Johnny Suh!” You clench your jaw at him, instantly shutting the prince up watching you get an outburst for the first time at him. “Get it into your head. I don’t want you. Go be with your rightful wife.”’

He balls the fingers into his fist looking down. Your fingers pull themselves rubbing away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“She’s no wife of mine.” He faintly told. “She’s not the woman I want. The woman I want, breathe, seek and dream claims to not want to be with me. But I find that hard to believe when you were screaming my name few days ago in the field.” He eyes you darkly and you hated how far your cheeks went red. You look away not finding this amusing.

Johnny never wants to let you go because you’re the only thing in his life that matters to him. Matters to him more than the throne itself, he could never replace you with his duty. The duty only hurts him but you, you don’t. You made him feel loved unconditionally and you made life worth while when he found it meek and cruel to survive in. But now instead of being his healer, you’re becoming the one thing that’s making him hurt with unimaginable force and consequences he didn’t sign up for.

You’re His Healer.

Johnny’s breath comes out weakly as he walks back to you making you take your footing back pushing you into the wall softly and your faces leaning together. You tried your best to fight the sudden urge to pull and kiss him right there and then, but you remind yourself it’s not your place to do those things. You told yourself to not give him any false hope. The prince couldn’t get enough of you, so much he caressed your hair behind your ears so he can look you in your eyes. “At least prove to me you don’t want me, Y/n, please.” You knew what he meant. You knew it by the moment he leans closer towards you slowly.

You await the kiss to happen and when it did Johnny felt the same way about kissing you the moment he did it the first time. It felt like the first but it was far by it being your first ever shared kiss, but this time it was much more desperate and filled with despair than the other times you’ve been kissing. You stay there pressed on the wall kissing him harshly enough to leave his lips becoming bright red and swollen like he was hit. Johnny was indeed hit, hit by your undesirable love, you’re kissing him like it’s your last.

He wanted to scream your name and tell you to marry him. He wants you to be by his side as he rules this country because he knows what you’re capable of no matter your status; he doesn’t need you to be wealthy and well respected. He just needs you.

You break away hearing Johnny struggle to pull away from the kiss as if he didn’t want it to end knowing this will be the last thing he will remember with you. You weep gently with your sadness showing currently becoming existing it was getting harder to stay strong.

The kiss broke you down more than you’d ever thought it would.

“Maybe in my next life I can see you and the world in all the seven colours.” Johnny said to you caressing your face, especially the tears rolling down them were caught between his soft nails. His words brought something within you alive as you close your eyes pressing your forehead against his.

“Goodbye Johnny.” Your last words trail to him.

Johnny will find you in this life or the next, you’ll become his and he will see you in all colours. He will witness the colour of your tears, the colour of your soft longing lips he wishes to always remember. Your first reaction when becoming shy or flustered, he wants to look into your eyes as the light reflects the colour in them. He wants to be the first one to see you in your wedding gown down the aisle.

All because you’re the one thing that saved him when no one wanted to. You’re His Healer.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out! <33

[noodlesoup1819]

Day 5: Chronic Illness - Sigma with endometriosis

(Cw: periods / menstruation, panic attack, throw-up)

(Read on Ao3)

For some naïve reason, Sigma thought this would stop once he joined the agency.

He had woken up multiple times in the middle of the night, lightheaded, nauseous, and hurting. He had probably only gotten a few hours sleep total and what he did get was restless and uncomfortable.

This wasn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence for him. 

Sigma might only have a few years’ worth of memory, but for its entirety, he’d felt like this. Nausea and headaches. Bone deep fatigue. Joint pain and body aches. Not to mention the sensation Sigma can only describe as someone trying to chip off pieces of his hip bones as they stabbed at his organs…

Not pleasant. To put it lightly.

Regardless of how unpleasant it is, it’s how it’s always been.

Dos-kun had once explained that stress could exacerbate the symptoms of periods. And both the desert and the sky casino and everything that followed were nothing but stressful. He also told him that all periods hurt. Sigma often spent time gazing at the women he knew wondering how they did it.

While the agency was no where near stress-free, it was still leagues better that anything he’d had previous. He’d only been there a couple weeks, but…he’d still expected things to get better.

Nonetheless, Sigma had a job to do and he prided himself on doing his job well, no matter if that was the casino or here at the agency. In fact, Kunikida-san often praised his exceptional work ethic and Sigma had no intention of messing that up regardless of how he felt.

Popping a few Tylenols, Sigma finished getting dressed and headed out the door. If he was lucky, he’d have enough time to stop in the café and get a coffee and something for breakfast before he needed to head upstairs to work.

-----

With caffeine to dull his headache and a small muffin in his stomach, he’d felt a little better all morning. The Tylenol was doing it’s job and while the pain in his abdomen wasn’t exactly comfortable, he was able to go through his daily morning routine of checking his emails, filling out mission reports, and assisting the office staff with anything they asked. He’d even managed a small mission with Kenji.

But by the time the two were heading back at close to lunch time, the sharp pains in his hips and lower stomach were becoming unbearable again. It was hard to keep walking without folding over and his nausea was building quickly. As soon as the two got back to the agency, Sigma excused himself to collapse onto the floor and heave into one of the toilets in the agency’s bathroom.

“—Sigma-kun~? Are you in need of my assistance? I’d be happy to help if you’ve gotten hurt on your mission~” Yosano-sensei’s voice traveled through the door. If Sigma was honest with himself, she still scared him a little.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m alright.” Sigma called back.

“Really? Because Kenji-kun said you looked like you were in pain when the two of you got back. And I’d be happy to fix you up~.”

Getting up and rinsing his mouth out, Sigma tried to make himself as presentable as possible before opening the door. “I’m alright, Yosano-sensei,” Sigma said, trying not to grimace at the pain, “I’m not injured. And besides, I don’t think your ability would help with this anyway.”

Yosano seemed skeptical. “You sure? You’re doing a pretty terrible job of hiding the fact that you’re in pain. And what is ‘this’ anyway?”

“I’m just on my period,” Sigma sighed. “This just happens sometimes.”

“Your period is causing this? And this is frequent?” Yosano seemed concerned. “Have you ever been to a doctor about it?”

“No?... I thought that it was normal for periods to hurt?” Was that not true?

“Sigma,” Yosano started, “periods are not supposed to hurt. They can be uncomfortable, sure, but they are not supposed to cause you debilitating pain. They are not supposed to make you so sick to your stomach that you have to heave in your work’s bathroom.”

“But… I was always told…” …By Fyodor. He was told all those things by Fyodor. The person who lied and manipulated more than Dazai. The person that lied about a whole world war and used it to manipulate someone revered as a hero into a weapon of destruction. He told him that it was normal. That that was what was supposed to happen. What an idiot he was for believing that load of crap.

If it wasn’t normal, what about him was. He doesn’t have a family or a home. He doesn’t even have a place where he was born and then tossed away. He was written down on a special piece of paper and then thrust into being a pawn for everyone he’s ever met since. He doesn’t have an ideal type or romantic fantasy. He doesn’t have a strong gender identity. And now, the one thing he thought was at least somewhat normal, isn’t either. Does he even count as human at this point?

“—Sigma! Breathe!” Yosano’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Was he not breathing? No? He was breathing too much? His chest hurt and his body hurt and he can’t breathe. Is he dying?

Something grabbed his hand. “Sigma follow my breathing. You’re okay. You’re fine.” Sigma doesn’t think he’s ever heard Yosano’s voice be so comforting. As he followed her instructions breathing got a little easier again.

“Sorry—I just…”

“Sigma, it’s okay. Let’s start from the beginning, alright?”

------

After that day with Yosano-sensei, things got better.

 She gave him some stronger painkillers and nausea meds and sat him down to explain things. He learned what was normal and what wasn’t.

He learned that periods usually only last 5-7 days once a month instead of the almost 9 days twice a month he was experiencing. He learned that periods usually cause cramping and could cause other things but were all things that should be managed (as in taken care of completely!!) with over-the-counter meds. He should not throw up or feel like passing out.

But, as much as he learned what was different, he learned what was normal about him. He learned that he was aroace and that lots of people didn’t experience romantic or sexual attraction. He’d even learned that Ranpo was aromantic! And he learned the word agender. Something that described his experience with gender completely.

He’d felt…whole. Like he was a whole person. Like he was normal. Like there was hope for things to get a bit better.

He’d started playing with different ways to express himself. He was diagnosed with something called endometriosis and Yosano-sensei worked to find meds that helped him. Even though they didn’t stop things completely, his flare-ups had become manageable.

The agency had been really accommodating too. It’s become common to see Sigma cozied up on the agency couch with a heating pad and his laptop on worse days. The president said he could take the day off on those days if he wanted to, but he liked being at the agency.

“—Ku-ni-ki-da-kun~ Sigma-chan looks so lonely sitting all alone on the couch! It’s my duty as a member of the armed detective agency to make sure all our members are taken care of! You should let me go join them!”

That was a new development, too. Being invited into Dazai and Chuuya’s weird situationship has been interesting to say the least. Even though she doesn’t experience romantic or sexual attraction, they’ve grown fond of the two of them and their relationship worked well.

“I can guarantee that Sigma is not lonely the all of seven feet away that he is. And Sigma actually completes their work when she’s on the couch! You’d just use it as an excuse to nap all day!”

“He’s right, Dazai,” Sigma interjected before the two could start actually fighting. “I’m fine. I’m a bit ahead actually. We can head home a bit early if you get your paperwork done.”

Yeah… that sounded nice. Heading home early to spend the evening in with both his partners. Chuuya would probably prepare a nice bath and he could relax as much as they could. Flare-up’s weren’t pleasant, but between her concoction of meds, the agency, and her partners, they were bearable.

“Hmph. Fiiiiiine. But only because Kunikida-kun will let us leave early if I do.”

“Sigma. You’re a godsend. Please never quit the agency, please.”

Yeah… Things were pretty alright.

[gribbo]

It's half-past ten, probably—no clocks in the inn, of course, and no light but the grim, guttering glimmer of the cleric's ward—and someone just outside Barcus Wroot's workshop is torturing a gittern. Again.

"Shoo," he says, cracking the door to glower out. "Just how you rabble expect me to work while you harp on is—ah." He blinks down at the heap of holey blankets hunched at his feet. "It's you."

The heap stirs. It's his minstrel bound for Moonrise, not one of the High Harper's noisemakers, who scowls up at him. "The mascot of your ill-fortune."

"Oh, enough." Barcus prods him gingerly with a foot. "Get up. You look like a pile of laundry."

There are, by Barcus's count, around threescore hopefuls stuffed in Last Light Inn—threescore and nine, now that his helpers have caught up. (He spots the druid and young what's-his-name, Wylbur Frontiers, speaking softly with the tieflings by the bar.) The floor is strewn with bedrolls and blanket-nests similar to the minstrel's own—and to Barcus's pallet beneath his makeshift worktable. The beds are for the wounded. Everyone else, from the children to the High Harper, finds a comfortable floorboard.

(As for meals—the less eaten of their dwindling stores, the better.)

The minstrel slouches inside, trailing blankets. Half his silly hair is shorn short, as if he'd hacked it off with his silly sword. Barcus shuts the door and stares at him. "Silk, what happened to you?"

"Shave and a haircut." The minstrel sprawls with a wince across Barcus's workbench, cradling his gittern like a child, and plucks two chilly notes: plink, plink, like icewater. "No questions, unless you want honest answers. I just sampled a vintage truth serum."

"Why the devil did you do that?"

Silk's brow creases. "The High Harper asked me to."

As if the answer is obvious, Barcus thinks. As if he'd have drunk poison at her behest. The look on the man's face—under blood and muck and gods-know-what—is queasily resolute.

And, Barcus notes with unease, he's sporting a new cloakpin: battered silver, wrought in the shape of a harp and crescent.

"Fiddlehead," he grumbles. He busies himself with trimming fuses, sweeping nails and iron scraps into neat piles; the quartermaster wants as many smokepowder bombs as he can make, as fast as he can make them. Around his neck, Wulbren's amulet hangs like a millstone. "When will it wear off?"

"By morning, I hope." Silk closes his eyes. "Or whatever marks morning in this miserable place. I'm to talk us into Moonrise, you see." He clears his throat with businesslike aplomb, as minstrels do. "Don't fancy blabbing all our plans to Ketheric Thorm."

That would put a wrench in things, Barcus thinks. The unease sharpens. He touches the hard, amulet-shaped lump in his shirt. "Get some sleep. You're no good to me and Wulbren shambling around like a"—he gestures to the other man, searching for an appropriate comparison, then waves a hand in defeat—"very tired troubadour."

This remark earns the grunt it deserves. Barcus forges on, as he does. "You and your friends, you do—you do still intend to save Wulbren, yes?"

Silk opens one eye. "Yes."

He says it in Gnim. It's so startling, so sweet, to hear their language in this place—like hearing a songbird in the Underdark—that Barcus doesn't bother him for five whole minutes.

But he wants, he admits to himself, one more honest answer. "Why?"

Silk gives him a sour look. He'd been mostly-asleep. "What?"

"Why"—he feels so small, asking, for all that he's the taller of the two—"why help me?"

"Well." A stern, embarrassed pause. "You asked me to."

Barcus blinks.

"Well," he says, and clears his throat, now: a small, flustered noise, like the squeak of a cog. "Well! That's—"

The amulet shifts under his shirt. He grasps for it instinctively, brushing past something else: his heart, under this hard, heavy thing. Ticking on. As it does.

He hasn't smiled much, of late. He doesn't smile now. But his mouth moves a bit, clockwise. "That's novel."