#maybe ill try and do something if something opens up later

[gatlingant]

Augh wanted to look into that cmy2k casting call thong and audition but then as soon as I'm somewhere I can do a recording I come down with a cold. Fuck this flesh mucus body I would've had a lot of fun trying to voice cytrus I love evil women

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[burningcomputerpersona]

was getting a twelve pack of beer a bad idea? probably. am i enjoying it though? absolutely.

[myntrose]

Missing You !

ೃ⁀➷: how the l&ds boys are when they miss you.

a/n: I want these men so bad it hurts. n e ways trying something different from smau 🤍 this is part one, will write the other boys later. Also pls send requests !!

content warning: the boys missing you to the point where it's a bit concerning. maybe ooc. Suggestive in Xavier's part towards the end. Did not proof read srry💔

ft: Zayne, Xavier x reader (separately)

pt. 1 , pt. 2

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ zayne (705 words)

the hospital holds an unnerving chill in the air. everyone can feel it; the staff, nurses, patients and the other doctors. and even though everyone could feel it, no one chose to acknowledge the source of this tension. because no one wants to disturb Dr. Zayne when he's in one of these moods.

It's another hard day for Zayne. The paperwork seemed endless, he's had to deal all sorts of patients, and he hasn't seen you in a week. You were out in a mission, nothing out of the normal for a hunter. But Zayne couldn't help but worry. He loves you, knows you're more than capable of handling yourself, but worrying about you comes as easy as breathing to him. It's second nature, an everyday thought.

Just as he starts to steady himself, the ink of his pen explodes on the report he was writing. He about ready to lose it, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. Zayne isn't usually this disoriented, and it's making him go mad.

Moving from his desk, Zayne paces around his office, opening your last message. it stresses him out that it was 2 days ago.

ms.hunter: ugh this mission is so dumb. smt happened and now it looks like ill be gone longer. im sorry babe :(((

He grips his phone a little harder. Paces the room with heavier steps. Breaths another sigh.

What is wrong with me?

A knock at his door disrupts his pacing.

"What?"

Zayne doesn't realize he said that with a bit too much bite, a bit too coldly. The door opens to reveal his new secretary, looking like a scared little lamb entering the lions den.

He looks at his secretaries face, realizing his harsh tone. Zayne murmurs a quick apology, asking his secretary if there was something needed.

"There's someone here to meet you, Dr. Zayne. Said they had an appointment?" The secretary trails their sentence like a question, knowing that Zayne shouldn't have any appointments today. Poor thing was shivering from the doctor's cold demeanor.

The veins on Zayne's head are almost visible now. On top of this day, an unscheduled appointment? Had it not been for his doctors oath to not harm, he would've denied this appointment.

Another sigh leaves him, as he tells his secretary to let the mystery appointment inside his office. Zayne makes his way back to his desk, head in hands trying to compose himself.

"You really shouldn't be sighing so heavily, Dr. Zayne. Heard it's bad for you"

Zayne's head whipped so fast towards the doorway, that you almost left bad for laughing at the action.

He blinks once, then another, before standing up and meeting you halfway across the room.

" 'm sorry for not texting you sooner, but I've been working twice as hard to get done with my mission-"

You don't get to finish your sentence before Zayne crashes his lips into yours. This kiss was desperate, filled with longing and want. It's almost startling, usually Zayne is more composed than his.

"would be more composed had you told me you'd be arriving back today" Zayne responds, perfectly reading your thoughts. Before you could say anything, he kisses you again. This time, he's softer, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other cradling your face.

You're the one to pull apart first, desperately needing air. Looks like your boyfriend missed you more than you realized. Oh, this was gonna be so fun.

Zayne scoffs, but he's still holding you close. "I do not scowl. It's just been a stressful week at the hospital."

You laugh at that. God, he missed your laugh. He missed you. He walks the both of you to his desk, where he sits you on his lap as he takes a seat.

"Did you miss me that much? It's only been a week."

"A week too long, my love"

While you and Zayne catch up, the rest of the hospital is glad that the chill in the air has died down. Looks like the staff knows who to call when their doctor is in that mood.

𓆩✧𓆪 xavier (570 words)

there's only a few things that causes Xavier to wake up. Either you shaking him awake, peppering his face with kisses, or when you steal the blanket from him.

Actually, it's mostly you that causes him to wake up. And right now, the reason why sleep escapes him is because it seems like you escaped the bed at some point.

Xavier feels around your side of the bed, only to be met with emptiness. Confused, he wakes up, and looks around to see the room still in pitch darkness.

2:34 a.m. It's still horribly early, so you wouldn't have woken up for work. Plus, Xavier knows your schedule better than he knows his. He knows that you don't have any kind of missions to attend to right now.

So, where were you? A sudden rush of thoughts occur at once, and Xavier can't help but assume the worst scenarios. He jumps out of bed and checks around the apartment.

Bathroom? No. Living room? Empty. Kitchen? Quite. He's going a bit crazy, because where did you go?

He just about to rush outside when he hears the sound of keys opening the front door. Turning to the sound, he watches as the door opens to reveal you.

You, holding a bag from the nearby 24/7 convenience store. You walk in, not realizing that Xavier was watching as you enter the room.

You're holding your phone in your other hand, staring at it. It wasn't until you looked up that you noticed you were being watching by your boyfriend.

Your words don't make it to his ears. Rather, he answers you with a question of his own.

"Where were you?" His voice is deep, laced with a serious tone that doesn't quite suit him. Oh no, was he mad?

"I went out to buy ice cream. I couldn't sleep and wanted something sweet. I texted you where I was!" Defending yourself, showing Xavier the bag with a few ice cream bars.

Oh right, he never checked his phone. Xavier pulls his phone out of his pockets, and opens his notifications to see that you in fact did text him where you were.

"Oh."

You move to the kitchen, putting the ice cream away. "Yeah, oh is right. What, d'ya think I just left without saying a work ?" You only meant that jokingly, of course. Turning around, Xavier is right behind you, caging you between himself and the fridge.

It wasn't until you looked at his eyes when you realized that, oh, he was worried. The realization sets in, and you understand what just happened. Xavier had woken up, and genuinely thought you were done.

Your eyes soften as you look at him, moving your hands to his face "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that." Xavier melts into your touch, and you both stay like this for a while.

You speak up first. "Why don't we go back to sleep?"

Xavier opens his eyes, looking down at you. "Actually, I'm not sleepy right now. I think I'm hungry."

"Do you want some of the ice cream I bought? I got your favorite flavor- Xav- Xavier why are we going to the bedroom?"

"I said I was hungry."

"Oh...?!"

Later that morning, you had to call into work "sick" for both you and Xavier.

[livingmybestfakelife]

Waiting to Exhale

Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Reader

The hospital stank of sulfur and various of other chemicals used in an attempt to reduce the illness that was causing such suffering to the current patients of Mercy Hospital. You were one of the victims fighting tuberculosis, it weakened your already fragile body quickly. Being born with a scarred lung did you no favors, and even the best doctors in the state had little hope for your survival, they didn’t say it but you could see it in their eyes that they weren’t confident that your body would accept the treatments.

One of the frequent visitors you had was your childhood friend Elijah “Smoke” Moore. He hated seeing you so beat down by this disease. He’d give anything for it to disappear from your fragile body. But he had no choice but to impatiently wait for some hope that the treatments would work, and you’d bounce back to your old cheerful and mischievous self. But the other part of him knew there wasn’t much hope, and having to face that realism wasn’t something he was ready for.

“You shouldn’t be wasting your time being here and worrying about me. You have a business to run”

He wipes some more sweat from your forehead, ignoring your words.

“Were you able to eat anything this morning?”

“Elijah, you should go on back to your off-“

“Did you?”

You let out a frustrated sigh at his stubbornness

“A little bit, I managed to eat half a bowl of oatmeal”

“Good….that’s good”

“Listen….Smoke, as much as you don’t want to hear this, all they’re doing is making sure I’m comfortable bef-“

“NO-no, don’t talk like that alright, you’re getting out of this alive and well, I won’t have it any other way”

“It’s not your decision Eli….it’s all in God’s hands now honey, please, let this be a positive last moment between us, okay?”

Your scratchy voice burned his heart. Gone was your smooth honey vocals that softened his spirit, now it had withered away in less than a week, he couldn’t take it anymore, when he said he wouldn’t have it any other way he’d meant it. After a nurse came in and told him that visiting hours were over, he kissed both your cheeks and lips and told you he’d see you later.

When he stepped out of the hospital he was met by Stack leaning up against the brick wall.

“How’s she doing?”

“She ain’t got much long until….”

“I know….I know brother”

“Stack, I….you know I don’t want this but”

“You want her”

He nods while chuckling, the tears are burning his eyes as the flow got heavier.

“I love that girl more than myself, I’d give up all this shit if she told me to”

“I know Smoke, I know you will, you’re in love it’s only natural, don’t we all do crazy things when we’re in love?”

His hand is resting on Smoke’s shoulder, they’re eye to eye now, Stack trying to make him understand his point, his real point.

“…..Don’t hurt her Stack-“

“It won’t be like how Mary did me, she won’t feel a thing”

Stack pulls him into a tight embrace before he enters the hospital.

———————————————————————————

You open your eyes to your hospital room darker than how it was when Smoke visited. The sun was setting quickly, and by how you’re feeling, it would be a miracle if you made it through the night. Something else catches your eyes, you squint a little to see a manly figure hovering over your bed, the fragrance wafting off of him was strongly familiar to you.

“Who is….” You could barely even talk, it hurt to breathe

“It’s gonna be alright cherie”

“No….no no no Stack please don’t”

“Shhhh”

You couldn’t fight him if you tried, your body had given up any strength you had left, and Stack had your limp wrist in his mouth in no time. He kept his word to Smoke, it felt like a little pinch, maybe a bug bite, but it wasn’t violent like how it was the night when he and others were turned. He finally removed his mouth and kissed your palm before gently placing your arm back down.

———————————————————————————

You and Stack walk out of the hospital as if nothing ever happened, you especially felt as though all those months of suffering never happened. You smiled when you saw Smoke and ran into his waiting arms, after sprinkling his face with kisses you squeezed him tighter in a hug, letting him swing you around, he took one look at his brother, who had a small cocky smirk on his face. This was the way, no more being trapped with mortal ailments, both physically and spiritual. Stack had won this battle with Smoke, he was able to manipulate the love his brother felt for their childhood friend, one down and hopefully soon, another to go.

“Thank you” Smoke mouthed to him and Stack gave him a salute before walking off home to Mary, letting the both of you have your moment together.

“First thing tomorrow you’re going to work Elijah, no more worrying about me, you have a business to run”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss you

“Whatever you want baby, it’s yours”

[cherubkissesx]

tangled limbs

part 2 here!

pairing: spencer reid x bau!female reader

summary: you and spencer are in a secret relationship but you’re sick so spencer immediately rushes to your place after work but he ends up falling asleep, but penelope and derek catch you two.

contents: fluff, sick reader!, talks of throwing up

you woke up that day feeling absolutely terrible but decided to go into work anyways, however just before you and the team were about to go on the jet aaron stopped you and told you to go home.

“what! why?” you said stunned but aaron just shot you a look as if to say “are you serious”. “you look very ill, and it doesn’t ease my nerves to know one of my team might throw up everywhere based on the way you cover your mouth every five seconds” aaron said pointedly.

“you make a very good point sir” you said giving up and walking to go pack up your stuff to leave. “where are you headed?” spencer said subtly putting his hand on your wrist.

“home i feel awful” you said as you yet again find your hand flying up to your mouth in a moment of panic thinking you might throw up but lower your hand when the nausea passed.

“in the politest way possible, you look god awful” spencer said in a soft tone. “gee, thanks” you laugh.

“i’ll see you later.” you said and when there was no one around he planted a kiss on your temple which made your pale complexion flush instantly.

—-

you got changed into your pjs immediately upon arriving home and flop into bed making sure you have a sick bucket at the side of your bed just incase.

practically as soon as your head hit the pillow you fell into a deep slumber. the coolness of your sheets hitting your flushed face felt nice and soothing.

some hours later you awoke startled as you felt someone gently shake you awake. “spence?” you managed to say once you peeled your eyes open. you looked around your room finding that your room was engulfed in darkness. wow how long had you slept?

you check your phone and see it was 11pm that same day, you had slept all day.

“what are you doing here?” you asked softly budging up and patting the now open spot for spencer to sit in.

“i was worried about you” spencer said engulfing you in a gentle hug. “it’s only a stomach bug and maybe a bit of a fever” you waved off.

“shhh let me worry” spencer said lying down and pulling you into his side. “you guys are back earlier than i thought” you said trying to make conversation. “the case was a bust, minimal evidence” spencer said sadly. “i’m thankful i didn’t miss out on much i already feel awful for not being there” you confessed.

“you never take a day off work not in all the years i’ve known you, plus you didn’t really take the day off you were sent home” spencer said reassuringly.

you smile up at him and snuggle into him even more as if no matter how close you were pressed into him it wasn’t enough. he diverts his soft doe like eyes down to yours and kisses you tenderly.

“my breath smells bad” you said giggling. “let me look after you” spencer smiles and runs his fingers through your hair which has your eyelids drooping.

—-

penelope and derek both take turns knocking on your apartment door but there was no answer. “we’ll just use her spare key!” penelope exclaims. “why would you know where she keeps her spare key?” derek asked in confusion. “doesn’t take a genius to figure it out” penelope said and retrieved your spare key from underneath your doormat.

“for an fbi agent that’s this smart she doesn’t think about her safety” derek laughed.

penelope and derek had brought you a care package although it was all penelope’s idea and derek just tagged along, it consisted of homemade soup, face masks, etc.

they made a beeline to your bedroom as it was the only door closed and you weren’t anywhere else. “y/n!” penelope said in a sing song voice.

“i—?” penelope said going to say something but stopped dead in her tracks and so did derek.

the scene they saw infront of them was you nestled in closely to spencer’s side, your head buried in the crook of his nick and his head resting on top of yours. he had a protective arm slung over your body while your hand was resting on his chest. and your legs where tangled together.

“did you know anything about this?” derek asked in surprise. “no! how could she not say anything” penelope whisper shouted.

“i think we should take a picture!” penelope announced excitedly and captured a photo of you two.

“they are never hearing the end of this.” derek chuckled.

[adore-laur]

Can you make a blurb focusing on the second baby? I don't know something like her needing a moment with Harry or her getting sick

IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH

——

"Open your mouth, honey."

You obeyed, and Harry gently slid an oral thermometer under your tongue. When you closed your lips around it, the metal tip provided a coolness that briefly offset the fever blazing through your immune system. Frankly, you didn't need an official temperature check to recognize you were fighting a viral infection, but Harry had insisted every aspect of you be monitored closely. He was currently whisking around the bedroom, ensuring you were being doted on like a princess. In your febrile state, where surreal thoughts flowed freely, you wondered if he'd been a doctor in one of his past lives. Those large, veined hands in skin-tight exam gloves. Manspreading on a swivel stool while listening intently to a patient's concerns. Diligent, respectful touches during routine checkups. Was it deranged to be jealous of the faceless people in your fever-induced fantasy? Maybe. All you knew was that it heated your body even more.

A bout of rigors had roused you in the middle of the night, which left you violently shivering in Harry's embrace. While semi-conscious, you had thought nothing of it. Hours later, after miraculously falling asleep in a cocoon of two thick blankets plus a heated one, you had awoken in a pool of sweat with a fever on the horizon. Now, in the early morning darkness, there was no choice but to try to break it. You had plenty of fluids nearby, comfy pillows for your heavy limbs, and a husband who was at your beck and call. And best of all, the sleep-aid medication you had taken earlier was working wonderfully.

After a silent minute of Harry staring at you sympathetically with his knuckles pressed against your unusually warm forehead, the thermometer beeped. He took it out, and when he read the result, a frown appeared on his lips.

"Am I dying?" you asked hoarsely, your eyelids drooping shut. Every part of you felt weak with exhaustion. The sinus pressure was a sucker punch whenever you moved your head.

"One hundred point seven degrees. Not good." Harry sighed and quickly left the bedroom on a mission to cure your symptoms. You laughed a little, which turned into a wheezy cough. The only real cure was rest and hydration, so you were curious what his magical remedy could consist of.

Distantly, you heard sounds in the kitchen. Cupboards shutting and utensils clinking. Was he making something? Your illness diminished any appetite for breakfast. Granted, it was five in the morning, not the typical time you ate.

The girls were still sleeping, and in the intimate shadows before dawn, when only you and Harry were awake, it felt like the old days. Back when you'd kiss him goodbye in his one-room apartment before he left for work earlier than any man had a right to do. Young, scraping by, and smitten with each other. He'd shown you what infatuation felt like. In those otherwise minor moments, you'd seen glimpses of the promising years ahead. A man who'd be devoted to healing your wounds during every tribulation life presented. A gentle presence, full of pure intentions, tender love, and perceptiveness. And all of it had translated beautifully into marriage and fatherhood.

You drifted off with sweet thoughts prancing around your mind. An hour later, Harry returned. The subtle scent of ginger and garlic lured you back into consciousness. By the foot of the bed, he held a bowl of soup, and you sniffled while sitting up. A dizzying rush of blood pulsed against your skull.

"I want you to eat this and drink an entire glass of water before sleeping," Harry ordered, rounding the bed to your side. He set the bowl on the nightstand, steam wispily wafting up toward the amber lamplight. You decided not to tell him you already indulged in a snooze.

"Copy that, Dr. Styles," you said. Soup for breakfast? Sure, why not?

He met your gaze, unhumored. "I'm serious. The ginger will hopefully soothe your throat. There's lemon juice in it for some vitamin C. Red lentils for a protein boost. Let me know if it isn't savory enough."

You smiled to yourself, knowing he thrived off refining his culinary creations until they were nothing short of excellence. "I'm sure it's perfect. Thank you."

"It might be too hot to eat yet," he said, fluffing the pillow beside you and pulling the comforter further up your legs. "Can I get you anything else? Where's your cold compress?"

"Why are you so worried?" you asked. "You've seen me sick dozens of times."

He placed his hands on his hips, maybe as a way to stop himself from fidgeting. "Doesn't mean I like it. In fact, I hate it."

"It could be worse." You shrugged, thinking of all the times you had held a puke bucket. If you had one thing to feel good about right now, it was that you didn't have food poisoning. Hallelujah.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, the curly ends sticking up among his natural bedhead. "I'm wondering if one of the girls passed it on to you."

"Probably," you murmured. "All kids are germ magnets." Your eldest was currently getting over a cold. No fever, thankfully, just the sniffles and a wet cough that made you wince every time you heard it.

"I should check on them," he said, seeming hesitant to leave you. He gestured to the nightstand. "By the time I get back, I want half that water gone and three spoonfuls of soup in your belly. Okay?"

"Wow, you're a no-nonsense doctor." You picked up the bowl of soup, its warmth spreading across your palms. It smelled deliciously herby. "Mmm, and a very talented chef. Have you ever thought about becoming one?"

Fondly, Harry shook his head with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're strangely vivacious for a woman bedridden with a fever."

"Maybe I just like it when you dote on me," you said candidly. It was often outwardly shown through his actions, like today when he cooked soup from scratch for you and kept track of your symptoms, but his subtle attentiveness was your favorite. As a husband, it was how he would lead you through a crowded room, his hand tightly grasping yours to ensure you never strayed far. How he would carve out time for conversations together, whether they were ones of reminiscence, ones revolving around the future, or ones of harmless banter. How he would touch you with purpose, making you feel safe, adored, and most of all, like the most important person in the world. In public and at home with no one watching. He had chosen you in this life, and you reaped the benefits of his devotion every day.

"Just fulfilling my marriage vows," Harry replied, grabbing the baby monitor and turning to leave. You smiled, set the soup back in its place, and sunk into the mattress, feeling the strong urge to sleep the day away. It would take too much energy to lift a spoon or glass to your mouth, so you disregarded Harry's sensible advice and closed your eyes against the rising sun.

——

Harry took slow steps down the hallway while typing a note on his phone that reminded him what time he had checked your temperature and the unfortunate result of 100.7 degrees. You'd been right about him witnessing you under the weather on many occasions before—from the flu to hangovers to stomach bugs to pregnancy nausea—but it still pained him to see you weak and lethargic. He was doing everything he could to nurse you back to health as soon as possible.

A sound coming from the baby monitor wedged under his armpit stopped him dead in his tracks. He heard a couple of coos, followed by the buildup to a piercing cry that made his heart drop. They weren't the usual cries that his six-month-old baby girl woke him up with. And considering it was still before six a.m., the time she commonly needed a feeding, something was amiss.

Rushing to her nursery, Harry's mind went to the worst-case scenario. Had she escaped her crib? Was there a chance she had hurt herself? It had been nerve-wracking enough transitioning her from sleeping in a bedside bassinet to her own room. Harry feared not being right next to her during the night, but the positive was that it allowed for a smoother bedtime routine—both girls in their separate rooms, away from noise and other distractions. His mantra to help him sleep at night was, They're safe, they're safe, they're safe.

When Harry reached her crib after turning on the ceiling light, he was relieved to see her still there, looking mostly the same as the last instance he checked on her a few hours ago. This time, though, her face was screwed up as she wailed at full volume. She was communicating a need he wasn't sure of yet, and while he prided himself immensely on being able to translate her cries and swoop in with a remedy within seconds, this one was foreign. It alarmed him.

"What's the matter, my love?" He picked her up, and instantly, the answer became clear. The damp spot on her sheets. Her skin warm and clammy to the touch. Her refusal to breastfeed at her usual schedule yesterday. "Oh, no."

He had hoped the infection wouldn't be contagious and spread to everyone in the family. But, like you'd said, kids attracted germs from just about anywhere and anything.

"Please don't tell me you have a fever," Harry whispered, cupping her head and pacing around the room helplessly. "I can't handle all of my girls being sick."

She continued crying, and Harry pinched his eyes shut as he mentally went through a list of how to reliably bring her fever down. The first step was to take her pajamas off—the precious fleece onesie with snowflakes that he'd bought for the winter season. He set her on the changing table and undid the snap fasteners until she was left in only her diaper. The fever was apparent in the way she was flushed from head to toe.

"Let's ask Mommy what to do," Harry murmured to himself. He didn't want to proceed with any remedies without your consent, so he placed his daughter back in his arms and walked out to the hallway. "We'll make it better, I promise."

Unsurprisingly, you were already halfway to where he was, no doubt having heard her crying lasting longer than normal. You looked dog-tired, but the motherly instinct you possessed always overpowered it. "What's going on?" you rasped.

"I think she might have what you have. She sweat through the sheets and is burning up."

Your expression transformed into guilt as you slumped against the wall. "Great."

Harry came closer, bending to meet your eyes. "Hey," he said softly, "don't blame yourself. It's hard to avoid."

"I know, but... I really tried to be careful." You sighed, stroking his daughter's back. "I washed my hands before I touched her. Bathed her twice a day."

"You did everything right, baby," he assured. "She has a tiny immune system that's still developing, so it doesn't take much to catch a bug."

When you didn't respond, he said, "Let me take care of her. You should be in bed resting. Did you do what I asked?"

"No, I fell asleep," you muttered with a rueful wince.

Harry couldn't bear to be disappointed when you looked so miserable. "It's okay." His baby girl released another cry, and he pivoted to the serious matter at hand. "I was going to take her temperature."

You sniffled and rubbed at your forehead, which was probably aching with pressure. "If her temperature is higher than one hundred, we need to call the doctor. For now, open a window and feed her a bottle. If that doesn't cool her down, let me know and we'll try giving her some Tylenol."

Harry nodded. A part of him knew all of this information by heart, but he always sought your advice in these urgent moments. As the old saying went—mother knows best.

He kissed your cheek while gently squeezing your wrist in gratitude, not caring if he got sick—it was inevitable at this point. "Water and soup, please. Then rest."

"I promise."

Heading to the kitchen with a fussy, feverish baby wriggling in his arms, Harry opened the patio door to let the crisp January breeze in. The first streaks of light were brightening the space little by little. He got to work by taking a bottle of breast milk out of the refrigerator. He took her outside on the porch, positioning her in the crook of his arm to feed. To his relief, she latched onto the nipple and began drinking. She recently learned how to hold the bottle by herself, so Harry used the opportunity to get the ear thermometer from the bathroom.

Back outside, he took her temperature on the wicker patio chair. After a few seconds, it gave him a reading of 99.3, which thankfully meant no doctor visit today. Harry could breathe a little easier as he slowly rocked her in his arms, observing her behavior. The milk seemed to help hydrate her and alleviate her distressed cries. Her skin was still warm, and he felt like natural remedies only worked to a certain degree. He planned to give her a dose of medicine before her next nap. It would cure what he couldn't.

Once the bottle was half empty, Harry stepped back inside and closed the door behind him. He was working up a sweat with all this running around the house, but he enjoyed tending to everyone's needs.

He returned to the bedroom. The sunrise's soft glow shed over your frame curled up under the comforter, and he could see that you were awake. Looking at the nightstand, he smiled when he noticed a good portion of your soup and water gone.

"I think she'll be all right," he said quietly, setting the empty baby bottle on the dresser and sitting beside you on the mattress. His daughter whined, but for now, her shrieks were no more. "Just a low-grade fever. We'll keep an eye on it."

You nodded and whispered, "Thank you for everything."

Harry didn't say anything in response. He didn't have to, because this was what a family did—take care of each other in sickness and in health. And he had vowed to do it for a lifetime.

——

[leashybebes]

bucktommy sickfic(let)

Tommy squints at his phone, rereading the message carefully, checking closely for tone and spelling. The last thing he wants is to worry Evan. Satisfied, he hits send, and flops down into his bed, immediately regretting the even slightly vigorous motion when it sets off a round of coughing that makes his head throb.

****

It's been a full-on shift. Not bad, but busy, so Buck only sees Tommy's text when he's in the parking lot, ready to leave and head over for date night. It takes him a minute to parse it, because Tommy is normally a very clear texter with impeccable grammar (old man, Buck thinks fondly).

Hi baaby i sosorry can't tonight I ill just a cOld not to baD. Little demon baby snézed in my FACE. Wont die!! Make you up s00n. Like you!

Buck can't help laughing, and then immediately feels bad about it. His first text is to Eddie to ask for Abuela's home cold remedy - a vile tasting but highly effective concoction that still haunts Buck. Then to Hen to double check he's not missing anything obvious from his pharmacy shopping list.

When he pulls into the parking lot outside CVS he dialls Mrs Lee.

"Hey Mrs Lee, it's Evan Buckley - no, no, everything's fine! I was wondering if you could help me out. You know that spicy soup you make, god, please forgive my pronunciation, is it dakgaejang? Could I get the recipe? Yeah, uh-huh, my boyfriend's not well and I can't think of a better cure. Oh, you're an angel, yep, let me grab a pen."

Ten minutes later, he has a recipe, and instructions on the best places to pick up the ingredients. It'll add a bit of time to his journey, but it'll be worth it if he can come up with anything close to the soup she makes. Tommy likes spice anyway, and Buck's always relied on spicy instant noodles to blow the lid off a cold.

When he makes it to Tommy's via Mrs Lee's favorite store on the outskirts of Koreatown, the sound of snoring from the master bedroom is practically shaking the walls, reminding Buck of a plane roaring by only feet above his head. Regardless he bypasses the door, opting to take the pillows and blankets from the guest room instead, setting them up on the couch before he heads into the kitchen to get started on the broth.

****

When Tommy wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later, he feels, if anything, slightly worse. His head is pounding, his ears are ringing, every inch of him aches, and his mouth and throat are the kind of dry and prickly he only usually associates with wildfire season. He's also...maybe experiencing multi-sensory hallucinations because he'd swear he can hear - very faintly through the horrible underwater feeling in his ears - music, and even more faintly smell something like food.

If it really is the world's most considerate burglar, Tommy knows he's in no fit state to fight them off, but he should at least try, right? He fights his way out of the cocoon that his sheets have become, and gets to his feet, only wobbling a little. Before he's even reached his bedroom door, he hears a familiar cacophony of footsteps on the stairs, and when he opens the door it's to see Evan on the other side.

"You're...here?"

"I sure am."

"Did you not get my message?"

"Oh, I did," Evan says, with an inexplicable smirk. "How are you feeling, babe?"

Tommy groans. "I'll never take clear sinuses for granted again."

"Aw, sweetheart. C'mere."

Tommy shakes his head, turning his face away as Evan approaches. "Plague."

Evan's insistent, pulling Tommy into a careful hug that honestly feels amazing. "What's a little plague between boyfriends?"

Tommy lets his head rest on Evan's broad shoulder for the few seconds of relief he gets before his blocked nose makes the position untenable.

"Can't breathe," he gasps out, and Evan rubs his back. It would be soothing, except, "skin hurts," he says, and Evan backs off.

"Okay, hon. C'mere, do you want to come downstairs? I made you a plague nest."

Tommy blinks stupidly, lets himself be steered down the stairs, Evan's hands hovering to steady him the whole way. He's guided towards the couch, which is replete with pillows and blankets. The coffee table has been dragged closer and is home to a box of those tissues infused with balm that are meant to prevent that horrible rubbed-raw feeling, cough sweets in what looks like every available flavour, one medicated and one menthol nose spray, three bars of his favourite chocolate, a carton of orange juice, and a bottle of water with a straw.

"Evan," he manages, and his voice wobbles alarmingly.

Evan's fingers stroke through his disgusting, sweaty hair without even a flinch. What a perfect man. "Don't cry, honey, it'll make your head worse."

Tommy nods and lets himself lean into Evan's touch.

****

Buck gets Tommy settled on the couch, covers him with blankets and squats down next to him.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

Tommy shakes his head, looking revolted by the very idea.

"I know. But it'll make you feel better. It needs another twenty minutes or so, so try to take a nap, okay? I'll be right back. You want the TV on?"

"Nuh," Tommy manages, his eyes already closing.

Buck pushes himself back to his feet and heads into the kitchen. The soup smells pretty damn good, and has that vibrant orange-red colour that promises a punch of heat. Abuela's cold remedy is adding a weird dimension to the smells, so he keeps the door closed in case it bothers Tommy. He also turns the radio off, and finishes up in silence, responding to a few check in texts from the 118 and sending Mrs Lee a photograph of his efforts for her approval.

He gets a cup of the cold remedy, a small bowl of soup, a spoon and a fork, and a range of medications onto a tray and makes his way back out. Tommy is snoring again and Buck nudges stuff around on the coffee table to make room for the tray before waking him with a gentle touch to his cheek.

"Hey, beautiful. Can you sit up for me? I want you to take some pills and eat some soup."

Tommy looks pitiful, his hair sticking up in all directions, his pretty eyes red-rimmed and puffy, his skin clammy.

"'kay," he mutters, and lets Buck brace him as they get him upright in the corner of the couch. Buck rearranges the cushions and pillows around him, tucks a blanket in around his shoulders.

"Okay. First up," he says, handing Tommy the cup of Abuela's home remedy. "This is via Eddie's abuela. There's a lot of ginger and also a little tequila and it's hot, so it'll taste, uh - interesting. But I promise it'll help."

Tommy knocks it back without even a wince and Buck squeezes his shoulder.

"Good job."

He hands Tommy the pills - decongestant, painkiller, anti-inflammatory - and Tommy takes them dutifully.

"Whatsit?" he asks, nodding towards the bowl of soup.

"Dakgaejang. Spicy chicken noodle soup. I got the recipe from Mrs Lee."

"Evan."

"Yeah?"

"You're too good to me." He sounds desolate and Buck feels, not for the first time, like he wants to go back in time and fight Tommy's dad, his CO, every terrible boyfriend he's ever had.

"No such thing, honey. Let me know if you want any help with the soup."

Buck sits next to Tommy on the couch and presses a kiss to his sweaty temple, not letting Tommy duck it.

"Evan. Stop it. I'm so gross."

"Nah," Buck promises. "You're the handsomest plague victim I've ever seen."

[traveler-at-heart]

Movie Afternoon

Nerd!Natasha has been on my mind so much lately and this post was just so perfect I had to be horny on main, so there's that.

Warnings: Smut, G!P Natasha

The weekend was finally here. Exams had been a drag all week and as much as you loved the school paper, there was only so much reporting one could do about the new production of Wizard of Oz.

As usual, your brother’s friends were throwing a party and you were invited, but going to your girlfriend’s house for a movie marathon was the best plan.

You knocked on the Romanoff residence, waiting for Melina or Alexei to open up. Instead, Natasha herself was at the door, wearing grey sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Hi” she said, smiling as soon as she saw you.

“Hi, love” you stood up on your toes to peck her lips. “Where’s your fam? You never open the door”

“They went to get some groceries. I think mom’s making lasagna toni…” she explained, mumbling against your lips when you leaned forward again, this time your tongue asking for permission to enter.

Natasha let you deepen the kiss with a sigh, her hands holding on to your waist for dear life.

“Can we… go to my room?”

“For a movie, or something more?” you said, kissing down her neck and biting the skin.

“Mo-vie. I’m sorry, I’d love to, but they’ll be back any minute”

“That’s ok, baby” you said against her ear, pulling apart. You were a little evil, always testing how much you could tease Natasha. Shy, bashful and beautiful Natasha.

You reached for her hand and led her up the stairs, knowing the way to her room.

“What do you want to watch?” she said, as you laid in her bed and she got her computer.

“Anything you want”

“What about the new Dungeons and Dragons movie?”

“Sure” you agreed, remembering Natasha had missed it on the theater because she was ill.

“Ok, here we go” she placed the computer at your feet, and you made yourself at home in her arms, leaning on her chest.

She smelled so nice, as usual. As the movie progressed, you ran your hands up and down her abdomen, in what you thought was a soothing manner.

That is, until you heard Natasha stiffle what sounded like a groan.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you straightened up, looking at her. “Sorry, did your arm fall asleep,? I’ll move”

“No, it’s not that” she said, her eyes on the ceiling.

“Well, then, what is…” your eyes scanned the rest of her body, and you finally saw the tent at her pants. “Oh, baby”

“It’s ok, it’ll come down in a minute” she said, more to herself than to you. Your girlfriend was about to grab a pillow to cover her erection when you intercepted her hand.

“Let me…”

“Y/N…”

“What? I caused this. I should be the one to fix it… don’t you think?”

“If they come back and see us” she was trying to come up with excuses not to do it and you smiled, straddling her lap.

“Honey, your mom already knows. Didn’t you catch the look she gave us the other day when we were late from the library?”

Of course, you had left the library on time, but an intense make out session led to you sucking Natasha’s dick on the school parking lot. What a shame your car was too small to fit you both on the backseat.

“You don’t have to”

“Of course I don’t have to. I want to, Natasha”

Those words seemed to have a magic effect on her, erasing any other objections. Her hands came to hold your waist as you kissed her passionately, grinding against her hard dick.

You mentally congratulated yourself for wearing a skirt, that would give her easy access to your pussy.

“Where are the condoms?” you said against her lips and her hand reached for the nighstand drawer. “Let me”

You leaned forward, still straddling her. The position made your chest go up to her face and Natasha wasn’t able to resist the temptation of squeezing your breasts, hardened nipples showing through the fabric of your shirt.

“Like what you see?” you teased and the girl nodded dumbly. “Maybe you can cum on them later”

The words made her jolt her hips forward, her dick crashing against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t resist the moan that left your lips and you moved down, fighting with the waistband of her pants.

“Here” she lifted her hips and you were able to take off her pants and briefs, her cock springing free in all its 9 inch glory.

“So big” you muttered, your mouth watering.  You were supposed to only put on the condom… but who could resist? Your tongue licked her entire shaft, starting from the balls all the way to the tip. Natasha let out a loud moan, buckling her hips in the air. You let her move, while your mouth covered her tip and inch by inch, you took all of her.

“Baby, you feel so fucking good…” she said, her mind a haze of pleasure and lust. The curse word only fueled the fire in your belly, knowing Natasha never said anything like that. You took as much as you could, until it hit the back of your throat, and then you began to move, up and down, strings of saliva running down the corners of your mouth.

Natasha fisted the comforter of her bed, and once her hips began an erratic rythm you knew she was close.

To her dismay, you didn’t let her finish, her cock leaving your mouth, still standing painfully hard.

“What… why...” she practically whined, desperate for release.

“Wouldn’t be fair if you had all the fun, now would it, baby?” you teased, and your hands placing the condom distracted her enough. Feeling your touch was the only way to relieve the coil in her stomach.

You went back up, allowing her to taste herself on your lips. She moaned against your tongue, and knowing she was distracted by the kiss, you grabbed her dick and lined it up with your pussy.

You were sure the neighbours had heard her moan as soon as she entered you, breaking the kiss apart.

“Y/N” she begged, and you weren’t sure if she wanted you to move or hold still.

“Talk to me, baby”

“Can you… move? Yes, just like that”

You began grinding your hips, up and down, feeling her cock almost hit your cervix. You really ought to get on birth control, imagining how amazing it would feel to have Natasha fill you with her cum.

“What did you…?”

Oh. You were probably thinking out loud.

“I want you… to fill my pussy with all your cum, Natasha” you said between breaths, bouncing harder on her dick. “God, your cock is so fucking big, it ruined me, no one can fuck me as good as you, baby”

You moved your hips faster and Natasha tried to match your pace, but you could tell she was close.

Two things happened at once.

You heard her family pull up the driveway and the next minute, Natasha was coming hard. You had to cover her mouth to stiffle her moan.

“Did you…?” she asked after a second, her breath still laboured.

“It’s ok, baby” you said, kissing her softly. “Come on, clean up, they’ll come check on us any minute now”

The redhead nodded, getting up to discard the condom and put on her boxers and pants. For your part, you fixed your hair as best as you could, as well as your shirt, that had ridden up all the way to your midsection.

Sure enough, Natasha’s mother came up minutes later. By that time, you were both leaning against the headboard, pretending to watch the movie.

“Y/N, how were exams this week?”

“All good, Mrs. Romanoff. Just have to practice my Spanish a bit” you smiled, sounding as composed as you could.

The woman nodded and turned to her daughter.

Natasha was… well, she looked flustered, to be honest. Melina said something in Russian, making her daughter blush madly.

“You’re welcome to stay over for dinner” Melina said, this time to you and you nodded.

“Thank you”

As soon as the door was shut, you turned to Natasha.

“You were right. She knows” Natasha mumbled, turning red.

You let out a laugh at that.

“Told ya”

“You’re gonna kill me one day”

“Preferably while we’re fucking hard” you said, unable to help yourself around your girlfriend. Without caring about her family downstairs, you began to kiss her once again, and you felt strong hands holding your waist and traveling down to squeeze your ass.

“Hey, Natasha… ah!!” Yelena walked in, covering her eyes and exiting dramatically.

“Knock next time!” Natasha yelled after her. “She’s so gonna snitch on me”

“My house is free tomorrow” you said against her ear and she shivered. “So, drink lots of fluids and come ready. We’re leveling the score, baby”

[strwbrychffoncke]

"lets ,you and me ,start over today ,be happy,, 2k+ words synopsis: you hope for a miracle on white day contains: lnds caleb x reader ,its white day! ,angst -> fluff ,kinda yearner!reader ,oblivious!reader ,jealousy (u think he likes someone else ,he thinks u like someone LOL) ,chef!caleb ,you're both kinda dumb tbh ,reader cries ,caleb comforts you ,slightly possessive!caleb ,confession ,kiss scene ,later a misunderstanding is fixed ,fluffy end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) wow didn't mean to not write for so long OOPS.... i found this concept in my notes and decided to cook it up today and slowly get back into the writing groove cause i missed it...... ill edit this later too lazy to do it rn :x

-

you're not really sure what triggered it.

maybe it was the excited giggles of girls passing you through the halls as they chatted with their friends about who had left them chocolates on this special day. maybe it was the shocked expression on your close friends' faces, pleasantly surprised at having received chocolates of their own, yet trying to brush it off as no big deal realizing you had yet to receive any.

or maybe it was the fact that you'd caught caleb up in the kitchen later than usual, the sweet smell of your favorite chocolates wafting through the space and towards your nose.

you'd watched him meticulously measure out the proper ingredients, noticing he was trying his best to stay quiet (seeming to recognize both you and gran were asleep, or so he thought) while quietly humming to himself, carefully stirring and monitoring the sweets as they developed. a pleased smile graced his features when he delicately poured the fresh liquid into cute molds you couldn't make out (but realized with a sinking heart had to be new, because you didn't recognize them) and watched as gathered a dallop of it on his finger to taste test.

having seen too much, you managed to rip yourself away from where you hid in the hallway, quietly retreating to your room, and burying yourself into your covers.

you didn't want it to be true. you didn't want to think about caleb working so carefully to make something for another girl, who just so happened to have your taste in sweets.

how bittersweet.

you heard his footsteps pass by your room, fighting the urge to burst open the door and corner him for answers, and instead listening to the soft pat pat of his socks against the wooden floor retreating just down further into his own bedroom.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you willed yourself to sleep, trying to think of anything to push away the image of caleb gifting the likely very-nicely wrapped chocolates to some mystery girl.

he never mentioned anyone. why would he keep this a secret from you?

wasn't he the one that said there shouldn't be any secrets between you both? that he was the first person you could speak to about anything, and vice versa?

you don't remember falling asleep, but are quickly shaken back to reality in the morning when you wake to your tear-stained cheeks.

and now you had arrived home, locking yourself in your rooms as you curled up and cried to yourself about the situation all over again.

of course he wouldn't think of you like that, he couldn't possibly, you knew this and thought you'd accepted it long ago—

so why was it that the tears wouldn't stop flowing?

you didn't even care that you didn't receive anything from anyone else (even caleb piped up the question on your unnaturally quiet walk home, but you only shook your head. since your gaze was trained infront of you, you missed the relief that flooded his prior sharp eyes and the sigh that escaped his lips) because you only wanted something from one person.

the one person who you could never have.

you're not sure how long you were crying for, but accustomed to being left to yourself for awhile after school, you were startled at a sudden knock at your door.

you jumped, head perking up towards your door— you'd left it unlocked.

"pipsqueak?"

you cursed to yourself.

of all times.

you frantically wiped at your wet cheeks, taking quick deep breaths to try to ensure your voice wouldn't come out shaky.

at another knock, you found it in yourself to answer.

"y-yeah?"

dammit.

with any luck, caleb wouldn't notice the shake in your voice.

"hey, are you alright?"

you cursed his perceptiveness.

"yeah, what's up?"

you hoped that sounded more convincing.

a beat of silence passes between you both, and you want to speak up again to ask what he needs when he beats you to it.

"i'm coming in."

"wait—!"

your panicked cry is ignored as caleb bursts through the door, eyes quickly locking onto you.

in seconds, he closes the distance, kneeling before you and gently gripping your shoulders.

"hey, hey, were you crying?"

"...no—"

"don't lie to me."

"don't ask stupid questions!"

you huff in mild frustration, rubbing at your eyes to try to keep any more tears from falling in his presence.

at your action, he reaches up to pry your hands away from your face, holding them gently in his own warm ones. his thumbs start caressing the backs of your palms as he looks into your eyes.

"what's wrong?"

you quickly shift your gaze away from his.

"nothing—"

"it's not nothing. come on, you can tell me anything."

you take a deep shaky breath.

"did something happen today?"

shouldn't you be the one asking him that?

he tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes.

"is it because you didn't get anything?"

"no, caleb—"

"then what?"

the soothing movements of his thumbs on your hands stop for a moment.

"did someone say something to you?"

you sniffle, shaking your head.

"did someone—"

"no one did anything, caleb, that's the problem!"

his eyes widen slightly, and his thumbs resume the soothing motion again at your sudden outburst.

"what do you—"

"i just—! i just hoped...."

a fresh batch of tears well up in your eyes, and you try your best not to let them fall.

"hoped for what?" his voice is quieter, almost a whisper.

"hoped for the impossible."

your gaze is on your lap, looking at the size of caleb's hands compared to yours.

he's close, so close, and yet...

you sniffle as a couple of tears fall, dropping to where your hands are connected.

"the person i like.... made chocolates for someone else."

caleb feels his heart stop.

is that what this is about?

while a large part of him wants to shake you for the name of this person so he can beat them to the ground for making you cry, the deeper twisted part of him is relieved that you haven't been taken from him.

he couldn't allow that.

"pipsqueak..."

"am i... not enough?"

he feels his heart shatter at the sound of a broken sob escaping your lips after these words, and his hands fly to cup your face, bringing you closer to him.

"of course you're enough, don't ever question your worth because of someone else. they're just too stupid to not see that, so its better not to think about them, alright?"

your eyes widen in surprise at the intense look in his eyes mixed with his honest answer, and you both feel comforted and a little more heartbroken hearing this come from the one this is about in the first place.

he swipes your tears away with his thumbs, one hand moving to pat your head. his eyes soften, a fond looking taking over them.

"one day, someone who's worthy of your love, who knows everything about you and cares about you more than anything in the world will sweep you off your feet. trust me."

the way he says these words with such certainty in a calm and kind voice warms your heart.

"do you really think so?" you murmur.

"i know so," he answers.

you both stare into each other's eyes for a long moment after that, exchanging a million words in just one look.

maybe its because of what day it is, maybe its because he's so close, or maybe its because the person he described reminds you so much of him, but for whatever reason, you find yourself leaning forward.

there's not a lot of distance between the two of you, and in a way you think 'maybe its now or never,' as you decide to close it, tilting your head and closing your eyes as your soft lips land onto his.

its brief and fleeting yet so much is exchanged in the few seconds you're merged together this way. caleb is shocked to his core, eyes wide and not having time to even process if this is real or not. when he feels you begin to pull away, the hand that's planted itself on top of your head slips behind and pushes you back, this time leaving you in shock as he properly melds his lips with yours.

you're the first to pull away again after a few long moments, close enough that your breaths mingle as you both catch your own, eyes locked onto each other.

one of his hands is still cradling your face, his other brushing some stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, breath shaky as he follows the movement, eyes dragging over every detail of your visage.

his sunset eyes bore into yours as he speaks his next words, voice wavering.

"did you mean it, pipsqueak?"

you can only nod your head in his gentle hold as a response.

surprise crosses his eyes for a moment when his brows suddenly furrow slightly.

"what about... your crush?"

a small smile stretches across your lips.

"he's been by my side this entire time," your eyes drift away from his face as you nuzzle your cheek slightly into his palm.

"i couldn't help myself."

his heart feels like it could burst, his eyes practically glimmering, and a smile painting his lips.

at the sight of his lovesick expression locked onto you, you sniffle, turning your head towards the door.

"well, i think i'm gonna get a snack—"

you move to get up but are stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist, quickly pulling you back.

you yelp in surprise, falling into caleb's arms as he cages you against him, embrace holding you close, nose nudging against your shoulder.

"should i take that as a confession?"

-

extra:

"wait."

you perk up, looking to where caleb is standing over the stove, the man in question already facing you.

its hours later, and you're sitting on a nearby stool, completely reassured from earlier's outburst, watching him cook dinner for you both.

"i'm still confused about one thing."

you tilt your head.

"ok?"

"you said the person you liked gave chocolate to someone else," he starts, stirring what's in the pan he's holding before tossing the food slightly in midair before briskly catching it all in the pan, body turned towards you.

showoff, you think, grinning and shaking your head slightly.

"buuut, i didn't give anything to anyone, pipsqueak."

your expression morphed into one of puzzlement.

"but... i saw you... making chocolates...."

caleb took a moment to process your words before small chuckles began escaping him.

he lowered the heat, placing the pan back down before facing you completely, his laughs growing louder at this point and of pure amusement.

"its not that funny," you pouted.

he took a moment to catch his breath before walking over to the fridge and pulling something out, shutting the door and approaching you.

"its just— pip, they're for you."

you tilted your head at him, looking down at the packaging wrapped prettily.

"earlier, i had originally gone to your room to coax you out and give you these, but then..."

you gasped.

"c-caleb—!"

"did you notice these were your favorites?"

"which is why i was that much more upset!"

a fond chuckle rumbled through his chest as he reached out with his free hand to pet your hair.

"so cute."

"i deserve them for the distress you caused me," you pouted, reaching out for them only for caleb to hang it higher above you, out of your reach.

"nuh-huh, i don't think so."

"caleeeeeb!"

"not before you've had your dinner," he reasons.

you slump back into your chair, sighing.

"okayyy."

"hm, good."

that night, after a fulfilling share of "caleb's famous cooking," you helped yourself to the love-filled chocolates made specially for you, caleb feeding them to you, his gaze full of only love for the one he's wanted for so long.

this was definitely a white day to remember.

-

a/n: heyyyyyy guess whos back..... prepare for me to spit out more fics cause im dying to after not writing for like a month (and for no particular reason) stay tuned.... side note the current zayne event game is so fun ugh

-

[mistymisfit]

short hurt/comfort blurb

summary: reader is taken as hostage, Red Hodd comes to save her (roughly I'll write a better summary later lol)

wc: 2k

warnings: fem!reader, pre-established relationship ,reader being kidnapped (duh) and drugged, one nasty comment from the intentionally vague bad guy, mentions of blood, lots of violence, guns, etc, etc. (not beta read as always, so ill fix typos tomorrow lol) and non sexual nudity !

a/n: lowkey hate how this turned out, but have this as I'm finishing an actual fic.

You were cold, you have been cold for a while now. You don't know how long it's been or why you were kidnapped to begin with. They've always kept you in the same dark room, there are no windows and no light except for the one that shines through the space between the door and the floor. Your hands were chained in front of you to the floor, and they left some fabric tied around your mouth to keep you from screaming. Not like you had any strength in you to even do anything but hope and pray Jason could find you soon. You discarded the theory of it being human trafficking after the first few hours since they never touched you. In fact, you hadn't even seen the face of your captors. You've only heard faint voices in the distance, just enough to identify their accent but not enough to decipher what they said.

Or that was until you heard an argument right outside the door. One man, who sounded older, was chastising the other. You hear the words "die" and "overdose", but it is hard to keep your focus. Your own thoughts feel slow, having come to the realization way too late that they'd probably drugged you, and that's why your body felt so heavy. Then the door opens, and you have to close your eyes because it feels like the light is burning them. You barely manage to move your head away when some hands grab your shoulders. They sit you on the floor and shake you, and you want to react, but your body's barely able to move on its own.

"Kid? You alive?" One of them asks, and when they get no answer, they resort to shaking you harder. When that doesn't work either, a heavy hand delivers a hard slap to your face.

To that you finally let out a pained grunt, and you blink slowly until you open your eyes. The younger one sighs in relief, and the older says something about their boss killing them if you were dead. That leads you to believe you were there for a reason, maybe they found out you technically work with Red Hood and they're using you to get to him. Or worse, they found out you were dating.  

"That's it, stay awake" He lays you down on the floor again.

"What are we doing this for?" The younger one asks. He looks on edge, shaky with nerves. It may be his first time henching, or so you could guess.

"Dunno, boss told us to keep an eye on her until he needs her"

You're left again in the dark before you can even process what they looked like. And you're slightly grateful for it, at least your head didn't feel like exploding once they shut the door again. It feels like an eternity passes while you're still in that room. So you try to notice all the details you can, there's no traffic noise or any other type of noise for that matter. Once you get used to the dark, you also see the small puddle forming from the leak coming through the ceiling. Then you also try to remember how you got there, you were leaving... someplace, it's all fuzzy. But you do remember the hard blow to your head, and then waking up here.

You guess it must have been a couple of hours, that just felt longer to you, when you hear some commotion outside. Running, and clicking, probably from loading guns. The gunshots came later, and did not stop for long. The noise was incessant, along with yelling and words you couldn't make out. You weakly managed to curl up and cover your ears with your hands. And you stay tense in that position until you hear the creak of the door once more. You don't dare to move even when you hear the footsteps getting closer to you.

"Not a step closer" A man grabs your hair, pulling you up, and pressing the nuzzle of his gun to your temple. It feels hot against your skin, almost burning, so you could only assume it's been fired recently. You finally lay your eyes on Jason, or rather Red Hood, he's covered in blood, and you could swear his eyes were shining red under the hood and domino mask.

"Let her go" He's practically barking, you know he gets like this when he's scared. He starts attacking even when he's backed against a corner. You wouldn't notice, but he immediately recognized your lost gaze and weakened mobility. It was like seeing his mother all over again. And that, along with the red imprint across your face, made him even angrier.

"You sure she only works for you?" He taunts, and before Jason can do anything, he presses the gun harder into you as if daring him to try to make a move. "'cause if I had such a hot piece of ass on my payroll..."

You close your eyes tightly, tears falling from them. You're sure you hear Jason replying, telling him off, but you're too scared to pay attention to anything but the metal on your skin. That is until he uses it to push down the fabric against your mouth, he probably asked you something you didn't listen to.

He laughs, and adds: "Maybe my guys gave her a little too much to keep her calm"

Jason is about to explode with anger, the way he talks about you, and what he's done to you. The way he so easily messed with his people, his territory, and with his partner out of everyone. He'll make sure to make an example out of him for anyone who decides to mess with him in the future. So when the man pulls the trigger, only for a click to come out of his weapon, you let out a sigh in relief. And Jason charges at the guy, dragging him away from you and out of the room to deliver the beat down of his life. Hitting as hard as he could until he made sure the guy would stop breathing, and making it as painful as possible. Then, for good measure, he empties what's left of his magazine on his head and multiple parts of his body. The body's beaten beyond recognition, and now he's got even more blood splattered over him. But him, and everyone who works for him, were now dead, so at least you could rest assured no one could harm you and go unpunished.

He goes back, only to find you curled up once more, and holding your head. You flinch when his hand touches you, but he tries not to take it personally, he reminds you it's him and that you're okay as he unties the black bandanna pulled down on your neck. He removes the muzzle from his face and pulls down the hood when you raise your head to look at him, giving you a reassuring nod.

"Get me out of here" You beg, pulling on your chains. He nods, picking the lock as quick as he can. You cling to him once you're freed, and he notices how despite your effort, your grip is weak. Even when you pull on his clothes to get him close enough to kiss him.

He freezes for a second before tightly holding the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your back to support you. He shouldn't, he should stop you and tell you to do this when you're in the right head space so he wouldn't feel as if he was taking advantage of you. But being so close to losing you, he can't find the will to tell you no. And he melts into your lips, red smearing both of you now. Violence is rewarded with affection, that's a first for him. You don't seem to care about what he's done to get to you, all that matters is that he did, and now you're with him.

"I'll take you to the ER" He runs his hand up and down your back to soothe you, but you start sobbing into his blood-soaked clothes anyways.

"No, no, please," you shake your head "I just wanna go home"

He agrees with just a nod, picking you up as he tries to shield you from seeing the bloodbath he left on his way to you. If anyone knew how to take care of a person in your state, it'd be him. The gruesome scene and trail of bodies were bound to get him in deep family trouble, but he couldn't seem to care about it. Not when it assured your safety. Once he's made sure you're holding tightly and buckled your helmet right, he speeds to his nearest safe house. Regretting getting there in his bike instead of a car, even if it allowed him to get there faster.

"I know you said home, but I can't risk anyone following-" He rambled while taking off your helmet.

"I get it" You cut him off, trying your best to smile and not look like you were about to throw up.

He's quiet leading you up to the apartment, it's an old building and it looks more or less abandoned. That's probably why he picked it, no nosy neighbors. The place is on the first floor, luckily since it had no elevator. Even though he still carried you up the stairs, and only set you down when you were in the bathroom.

"Right, I'll wait outside " His eyes avoid you as he leaves some clean towels near the shower.

"Wait,"Your voice is meek, almost scared. You stop him from leaving by hooking a finger on one of his belt loops  "stay with me, what if I pass out?"

He nods, helping you pull up your shirt. You look up at him, not uttering a word but willing him to take the mask off. Luckily, he understands your staring and does so, leaving it on the floor next to your discarded clothes. Then he kneels in front of you, pulling your pants down, and you hold onto his shoulders as you step out of them. You mouth a quiet thank you when he looks up to you, right before he leaves a soft kiss on your hip and then on your stomach. His grip on your waist feels desperate, clinging not to let you go ever again.

"I'm okay," You reassure, but when his eyes meet yours again, they're brimmed with tears. You untie the bandages around his forearms, guiding him to take his clothes off too.

Jason's trying really hard not to cry right now, and you know it so when you walk in the the shower you turn your back to him to give him some space. But don't fail to notice how the water running down the drain turns red when he kisses the top of your head and stays close to you. He does a great job of gently cleaning you up, and so do you, washing the blood off him once you do turn around. You don't say anything about it or the bruised knuckles or any other bruise for that matter. He's thankful for that, thankful he didn't lose you or that you haven't opposed his methods. You stay under the warm water for a little longer after you're done, holding on to him and breathing slowly as his hand soothes you by tracing circles on your back.

"Jay?" You look up to him.

"Hm?"

"It's not your fault"

"I know," He replies, and you immediately think liar, you do think it's your fault. But don't have the will to argue with him, yet, so you settle for leaving a kiss on his bicep. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"You'll lay down with me?" He hums in response, closing the faucet behind you.He wraps you in a surprisingly soft and warm towel, then helps you dry off and put on some of the spare clothes he kept there. For the rest of the night, he'd watch you until you get down from whatever they gave you, make sure you don't stop breathing or choke on your own vomit. He'd worry and insist on breaking up tomorrow when you feel better and have the strength to argue and call him an idiot for it, when you are able to think better than him and insist you'd always be safer with him rather than without him.

[allthewhumpygoodness]

Other Stuff that can happen in "stagnant" whump fics

So I've been thinking about something and wanted to share it as an open conversation. A lot of the time my writing block when writing whump or sickfic comes from like...what can actually happen in the course of the story. Especially since my stuff tends towards the longer side (I'm a chronic overwriter), it's hard to keep things...interesting I guess? And I find my writing suffers when my Tales Of Woe don't have much structure to them.

(I say this as someone who writes primarily sickfic, or recovery-based stories that are caretaker/whumpee focused, with little or no whumper involvement, so that's what I'll be focused on here. Certainly if you're writing something like a character being held in captivity and tortured/attempting escape/encountering other prisoners/being searched for, you've already got plenty going on and probably don't have this issue at all.)

So I've made a list of Stuff That Can Happen during your whump/sick fic. If you would like. Of course, there will always be a market for stories that are mostly the same level of suffering and nothing else is really the focus, but if you do find you struggle with this like I do, this list might be for you.

Character arcs/Internal/social shifts:

1 caretaker, their relationship to the whumpee strengthens

1 caretaker, they find themselves growing apart from the whumpee

2 or more caretakers, there are complicated dynamics between all of them + the whumpee that shift around

Eg; there's a whumpee and 3 others, Caretaker A forms a closer relationship with Whumpee throughout the story, Caretaker B *was* close with them before but finds their place now "usurped" by A, Caretaker C tries to keep the peace between them while also helping out Whumpee

A caretaker realizes they're better at Caretaking than they'd thought

A caretaker realizes they're not as good at Caretaking as they'd thought

Whumpee realizes they have romantic feelings for Caretaker (or vice versa)

Whumpee discovers they only like Caretaker as a friend (or vice versa)

Whumpee learns to trust Caretaker (s)

Caretaker (s) learn to trust Whumpee

There was a previous misunderstanding (about their feelings for one another, their loyalties, an action taken from one of them etc.) between Whumpee and Caretaker (or between more than one caretaker) that gradually gets resolved

A misunderstanding occurs within the story that builds and is then resolved

One caretaker has to convince another to be honest with Whumpee about this misunderstanding (or has to convince Whumpee to be honest with Caretaker)

Someone unexpected arrives at the scene; whether that be a rival, a friend or family member of the whumpee, a potential other caretaker, or Whumper

Perhaps this is a relief for the caretaker, who needs a break

Or it's a stranger who causes tension in the situation

Maybe the caretaker knows this person is coming and is stressed out waiting for them

Physical/symptomatic shifts:

Whumpee is found injured and unconscious, and wakes up being cared for - their wounds later become infected, leading to a much longer recovery

Whumpee's condition quickly worsens

Whumpee steadily becomes delirious

Whumpee is feverish and goes from feeling freezing cold to boiling

Whumpee feverishly tries to stumble out of bed and into a different room (searching for Caretaker? trying to find a warmer spot?), and are found before, as, or after they collapse

Adding illness to injury: Whumpee is dealing with an injury, only to get sick, or sick only to also become hypothermic, they have heatstroke and then get hurt etc. Compounding whump.

Environmental shifts:

A caretaker could leave temporarily out of necessity, leaving whumpee and/or other caretaker(s) worried about them until they return

The weather changes (worsens? gets better? worsens and then gets better? gets better and then worsens?)

The characters have to shift locations for some reason

An important resource is run out of

Something necessary is destroyed or partially destroyed

A doctor/medic needs to be called

Somebody else becomes sick, injured, or lands in some other danger

Whumpee's newest symptom requires a different type of medicine than what they've been taking up until now, possibly one the caretaker doesn't have

The characters are in an intense situation (in hiding, in a warzone, on the run, trying to escape a natural disaster etc.) and the stakes suddenly become much higher due to something related to this

Maybe there's a flood and the waters have reached their safe spot

Maybe whumpee is some enemy they're sheltering in secret and members of their team/army/etc. come searching for them

There's lots more I could add and I'm not sure if this is explained in the best way, but there you have it.

[lorelune]

(alpha sae x omega reader // hurt/comfort // WC: ~1.9k // minors dni)

sae wakes up alone.

it's late, early morning, probably. he doesn't bother checking his phone, the relative silence of the cityscape outside tells him enough. your bedroom nearly pitch black. aside from faint light slipping in from under the door of the en suite bathroom, the room is still and the corners shadowy.

sae doesn't enjoy waking up alone.

it feels wrong, these days. like he's missing a limb. the other side of your bed is empty and almost cold. the duvet and sheets are pushed down to the foot of the bed in a rumpled pile. your scent is all over the apartment, this room, and especially this bed, but it's still too faint. without you in this bed, it's too faint. it's unnatural for it to be so faint, this later at night— early in the morning, when you should be tucked into his side as you belong.

sae peels himself out of bed enough to sit up, rubbing at his cheeks. he thumbs over the (oh so controversial) claim bite on the base of his throat. the etch of your teeth laid into him forever. it's a romantic gesture, at least you think so. your thinking has rubbed off on him— at least a little.

sae already knows where you are. he's known since the moment he realized you weren't beside him where you'd be.

his nose guides through the dark, padding lightly and carefully across the hard flooring. he pauses in front of the door to the ensuite. your scent, distressed and louder than it should be in sleep, curls out from the room in waves.

the door to the ensuite opens almost silently.

the only light in the room pours off from a little nightlight, plugged in near the sink. it's some round cat-like character you think is very cute but sae thinks is kind of stupid looking, but sae loves you, and would do anything for you, so he loves the nightlight just as much as you do. it's nights like tonight where is very grateful for its slowly morphing rainbow of colors, pouring out over the space, just enough that sae can see you across the room.

'maladaptive omegan behaviors' weren't something sae was very familiar with, prior to seeing you (accidentally), courting you (intentionally) and mating you (very intentionally). he'd maybe heard the term tossed around in passing and on social media, but he never dug further into it. he didn't see himself taking a mate, so it didn't seem worth knowing about, especially since most of his peers were alphas just like him.

when you started letting sae into your nest, he had to learn quickly.

omegas with rough upbringings, whose mothers had difficult or traumatic pregnancies, and those with chronic physical illness often developed these behaviors. dysregulated systems, desperately trying to regulate themselves in the way that were taught— which is to say they were often taught incorrectly or not taught at all. it spawned into lists of behaviors associated with diagnosable criteria that sae could, if asked, probably recite from memory.

low scent production and a lack of scenting instinct. bite risk. inflamed scent glands outside of heat cycles. isolation drive and the subsequent isolation sickness.

the dysregulated trait you struggled the most with, though, was the maladaptive nesting behavior.

you lay in the large bathtub, curled up tightly into a ball, your forehead near your knees. thrown over you are an assortment of unused blankets from the nearby linen closet and towels dragged down from the nearby warming rack. sae knows that some are still probably damp, given you shared a shower before bed. your head is only supported on your folded hands. you look very sad and very small.

sae hates to see you like this.

he knows you can't help it. you've explained to him before, that sometimes— this just happens. you wake up in a cold sweat, panicked, and— you just can't be where you are in that moment. you struggle to describe the specific feeling, what drives you. it frustrates sae, because he needs to understand to help. but he never holds it against you (how could he?) even with what you are able to give him, sae gleans a little more each time you choose to confide in him.

slowly and gently, he reaches out to run a few fingers over your temples. you barely flinch, probably half-awake.

"baby," he says softly. his own voice surprises him on these nights. he never knew it could become so soft and entirely yours.

you're quiet for a moment, before turning into your damp nest. "... hi."

"not feeling so good?"

"'s fine now." your words slur with exhaustion. you've had a big week, you both have, between games, travel, and the media circus you somehow put up with. "go back to bed, sae."

"you know the rules." he scratches along your hairline. "not without you."

there's room in that bathtub for the both of you, if you refuse to leave. otherwise sae will sleep on the bathmat. he doesn't care.

something about the size of the bathroom and the depth of the bathtub makes you less scared. that's hard to emulate on a king-sized bed, no matter how well you make your nest and how long you fuss over it.

you glare at him, a little wet in the eyes, before hiding back in your makeshift nest.

he could, theoretically, reach over the lip of the bathtub and extract you himself. and he could probably hold you tightly enough and long enough that you feel safe, even in your nest that doesn't. he's your alpha, that's his job, one he likes—

but that's also not what he wants to do.

sae does lean over the edge of the bath and press his lips to your hairline before leaving you there.

see, you do this often. often enough that sae has poured through articles and reddit posts between rewatching his own matches to look for ways to help. to ease. it's not— in his nature, this type of helping. if not having you near is like missing a limb, learning to help you with your maladaptive behaviors is like exercising a underused one.

sae found a particular reddit post that seemed promising. a product recommendation that was out of budget for most folks, but sae has too much fucking money, and if his money isn't good for this, then what is it good for?

he knees down beside the bed and pulls out a parcel.

it takes him a moment, two, ten, to wrangle it out of the package. it's a frame of sorts, made of a metal-like, lightweight material. it comes with a set of straps too. the metal pieces come dissembled, and once assembled, become two poles and connecting between them. he deftly secures one pole to each of the posts of your bedframe with the straps, pulling them tight and taut so the poles are flush. the connecting bit spans between the bed posts, high, taller than sae if he were kneeling on the mattress. the frame itself rises over the top half of the bed, and slopes with another set of support poles to the bottom.

over it, sae hangs a sheet, one he's been scenting himself in secret, knowing that this exact event would occur. it drapes down over all sides of the bed, making enclosure, yet airy space. there's a string of LED, no heat lights that came with the frame that he strings along the outside, dappling the inside of the space in warm light.

sae is an alpha, so he doesn't have the same sense for nestmaking as an omega would. he does try, because he loves you, and fluffs up pillows and rearranges things to look more inviting. he only goes to get you when he is certain things are as good as he can get them.

you're sleepier when he fetches you from the bathtub, easier to coax out with the promise of a glass of water and skinship. you don't fight him, even on night's when the need to hide here is more violent and panic-inducing for you. the trust you give sae is implicit and seemingly endless. it is important that he covets it.

presenting you the frame, draped sheet, and cute lights, you blink at the structure.

"... a fort?"

"it's called a nest hide."

"who calls it that?"

"reddit."

you snort and press your nose into his bicep. you're all wrapped around of of his arms, clinging to him. he thinks, if you asked him a few years ago if he would like this kind of thing, he would've said no. deadpanned because he couldn't imagine ever enjoying this much contact with anyone casually. now, however? he craves it with you so much, that he hasn't gone to a single away game alone for god knows how long. his teammates tease sae about how you have him wrapped around you finger, and he doesn't fight them on it. it's true; he is.

you both clamor into bed, your nest, you first and him second, after allowing you to adjust the nest accordingly. it doesn't take you as long as it did earlier in the evening. you lean over the edge of the bed and pick up a forgotten friend, a plush of the same pudgy character as the nightlight. you set it next to fluffed pillows and preen.

your scent has bloomed, stronger than it was, more content. he can tell you're still tired, so tired, and your scent reveals your exhaustion easily.

"c'mere?" you tell him, once you're done, extending a hand to him.

sae takes your hand, he always will.

it's easy then, to settle together under your mutual favorite blanket, a soft knit thing sae's grandmother made for you after sae's claim became public knowledge. she thanked you for 'finally making that boy settle down some' which sae didn't agree with at the time, but now he does. you've domesticated him a bit, and he wouldn't trade that for much at all.

you lay, facing each other, as sae stretches to shut the string lights off. in an instant, you're completely wrapped around each other. your forehead it cushioned against his chest, his arms around your waist, legs tangled. it's so good. far better than a bathtub.

"... thank you, sae," you say, softly. half-spoken into the his bare chest, and half into the still of your shared.

"there's nothing to thank me for." he huffs a little, just enough that you laugh lightly. "i like making sure you're comfortable."

it's as simple as that. it's always been that simple with you, and you make things easy to be simple. it's a privilege, he has come to realize.

"well, you're very comfy." you hum, voice wavering with sleep. "still."

as a final act, before you fall properly and fully asleep until sae deigns to wake you the next morning, you lay a kiss over his claim bite scar. your scents mingle, mix, and roll over the space. you're— so very good at drawing such a fragrance out of him. sun-warm, earthy, all him. it tangles with your own.

he thumbs over your own scar, once he watches you fall asleep, peaceful and as hale as you can be, and safe, and thinks that he'd do far more than built some little safe haven for you, if he could. if he needed to, he'd move the world.

sae lays a kiss on your forehead, nuzzling there, with only quiet night song of the city to witness his most vulnerable affections.

[leighsartworks216]

Sitting Here With You

Zayne x gn!Reader

Inspired from a couple months ago when it was raining all day and I was so tired, so I opened my door and just sat there and ate a sad lunch while watching the rain. The things I would have given for Zayne to appear at that moment

Warnings: fluff, comfort, rain, cuddling, caretaking, established relationship, references to depression

Word Count: 910

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADs Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form (Haven't updated my tag list recently but I will soon)

You're exhausted today. God knows why - maybe you overexerted yourself, or the burnout caught up, or a million other reasons. You slept in late, later than usual, until you were tired of sleeping the day away and crawled out of bed to do something, anything else.

The anything else culminated into you sitting in front of the door, opened wide, to watch the rain fall.

It's cold out, but you're too tired to get a jacket from the hangers nearby. You just let the chill hit your face, hug your body, spill into the warm house behind you. A blanket laid out underneath you cushions your butt from the entryway mat. You don't bother trying to pull up the edges around your shoulders. You just lean against the door, hugging yourself, and watch.

It's been raining all day. The earth is soaked and muddy. The streets and paths, all washed out. The sky is a dull grey. Branches and leaves bounce under the onslaught. Water from the gutter gushes out of the pipe at the bottom in a low chug, bleeding out onto the ground. A puddle nearby is full of restless ripples, reflecting back the world in blurred lines.

A blanket is draped across your shoulders. Your husband bends overtop of you to pull it closed at the front, scarred hands ensuring you're wrapped up tight against the chill. He presses a kiss to your head. "I hope you don't catch a cold."

You smile sleepily. As Zayne steps carefully onto the blanket and sits down beside you, you heave your body from leaning against the door to lean against his shoulder instead. He wraps an arm around your back, hand curled around your arm to rub the chill away through the blanket. He leans his head atop yours.

Rain dominates the conversation. Tapping away at the house for entrance. Passing cars drive through the water with a rough sound, splashing puddles up onto the sidewalks, casting their beams of light into the reflections on the ground. But through it all, you feel the brush of Zayne's lips against your forehead as he speaks softly, just loud enough for you to make out the words.

"Are you alright?"

You don't know how to answer. You're tired on a bone-deep level. Exhausted, but so sick of sleeping. But you're not upset, not really sad in any way. Not that you're happy, either. Just existing. A ghost floating through the day.

The worry radiating off of him ratchets up in time with the dripping water. Seconds ticking by in silence that allows him to run through every symptom you're showing to assess the best course of action to make you feel better. He lays his cheek on your forehead, subtly feeling your temperature, trying to figure out if you did happen to catch a cold, or some other illness, worsened by the chilled wet air hitting you in the face.

Finally, you hum. Slowly turn into his side to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his neck. He wraps his other arm around you in return. Both hands rubbing up and down your back to warm you up, assuring you of his support. Your eyes fall closed on their own accord. Heavy, weighed down, strained. "'M so tired," you mumble, lips barely parting around the words. You sigh, long and low. "It's like a vampire came by and sucked me dry of energy."

He hums his acknowledgement. "Could it be due to the weather?"

"Maybe..." You rub your cheek against his shoulder, cold nose tracing ticklish lines against his neck. You sigh. "I hate it, Zayne. I just want to be not tired. I don't want to keep feeling like this."

"You've been working hard lately. It's possible your body is forcing you to rest to make up for the strain."

"Mmm, and what does Dr. Zayne recommend to deal with it?"

"I recommend not fighting against your body, and allowing it the rest it needs. There are other ways to rest aside from sleep that may interest you more. A good meal, for one. Watching or listening to something familiar or doing some low-energy hobbies."

"And will Dr. Zayne be overseeing these treatments personally?"

He smiles softly, pulling you tighter against him as a cold wind blows by. "Of course. I think we should begin treatment immediately, starting with getting you warmed up and away from the cold. If your body isn't well rested, you're more susceptible to getting sick."

You sigh, long and drawn out, like he's just told you to climb up the side of a mountain on your hands and knees while carrying 80 pounds of supplies on your back. But you know he's right; it would be best not to get sick now, when you're already feeling drained and awful.

Still, you hug him tighter. "Just a little longer. I like sitting here with you."

He readjusts the blanket around you, bringing the edge up to cover part of your face from the cold. You can stay for as long as you want, but that won't stop him from playing damage control. Won't stop him from continuing to rub your back and arm through the blanket, or sharing his warmth with you. His head resting on yours to further block you from the wind.

You open your tired eyes again. Both of you, staring out of the doorway, watching the rain.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz @that-lost-one @always-just-red @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @nothankyew @nezuswritingdesk @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @moon-inthe-sea @perla-drg @leiakitty

[incorrectbatfam]

WFA spoilers ahead

Content warning for discussion of mental illness

Can I take a moment to appreciate how they showcased Jason's PTSD in the latest ep? This isn't the first time but I feel like this round struck much closer.

Although this is the website where people are open about mental illness, there's still a reluctance to address the "loud" or "frightening" or "angry" or "messy" side of it. Stuff like bipolar, schizophrenia, addiction, PTSD. It's why I'm extremely hesitant to talk about my own problems even under anonymity.

Conversely, there are mainline comics (and other media) that use this category of mental illness as an excuse for characters to go all-out in their aggression. Even if not intentional, it perpetuates the idea that a trigger will always send the person spiraling until either the worst happens or someone steps in as the "hero." It's basically sending the message to people like me that we're a ticking time bomb.

Then there's WFA. Jason's not fully present during his episode. It leads him into a dangerous situation while at the same time he's unable to grasp things like pain. The adrenaline and the overwhelming sense of fear drives him into fight mode. He gets tunnel vision while he's beating up the bar patrons to try and find the Joker. Without getting into details, I've been in Jason's shoes. I've found myself in risky places doing things I'd later regret. All because of the disconnect from reality that makes me believe what I'm doing is necessary. Not even justified, just necessary. Almost like a survival instinct.

And what's so important is that Jason isn't a villain and Dick isn't a savior. Dick reaffirms Jason's trauma and guides him through tangible steps rather than giving broad sweeping advice. Of course there's no one-size-fits-all coping method, but the biggest thing is having somebody in your corner who sees you beyond this bad episode. Sometimes I have that, sometimes I don't. WFA won't show it since it's all about family, but the times I didn't have someone were exponentially scarier.

At the same time, there are consequences that a simple grounding exercise can't remedy—Jason got hurt, he hurt others, and his appearance at Noonan's definitely put him on someone's radar if not the Joker. And they're just as real as his feelings and (hopefully) he's gonna be held accountable. Because that's how it goes in real life. Something sets me off, I screw up, I get bailed out, and once I come down from it I have to fix the mess I made.

Maybe I'm just reading too much into a fan comic. But I know that if a few panels can resonate so closely with me, then it's worth talking about because someone, somewhere is also feeling the same way.

[thealtoduck]

Howl - Being adopted by Jason Todd…

Jason Todd x Adopted!Son Reader

Batfamily x Male Reader

Warnings: Death, you become an orphan, kidnapping (you), the Mad Hatter being his usual very creepy self, child mental torture (also you) , Jason struggling to be a dad…

Summary: After a being rescued from the hands of Mad Hatter, you have no one to turn to except a stranger in a red hood…

(A/n: The ultimate ”guy/girl who’s going to be okay” song, I have no idea what the lyrics actually say but I’m right…)

——

Growing up in the East End your family had always struggled to get by. And after your mom passed away from illness things just got worse.

Because of your financial struggles your dad ended up in the hands of the Mad Hatter, working as a henchman. He knew it was wrong but wanted to do the best for you to be able to go to school and not go hungry and cold.

But after a while he couldn’t take the guilt of working for someone as evil as the Hatter and planned to quit… but someone wasn’t gonna let that happen.

The Mad Hatter was going to make an example of him, to those planning on leaving him. So he targeted you… On your way home from school he sent his henchmen to take you. Giving you a shot of one of his hypnotic serums to put you to sleep…

Once you woke up you were in a dark cold room, the room was filthy and painted to look like a wonderland. You then noticed you had been stripped and dressed in a onesie that looked like a mouse. You had been chained around the waist to the wall.

You tried to call for help but nothing…

Hours later the door opened and a unsetling voice could be heard ”Wakey wakey, little Dormouse”. Through the door came a creepy looking man in a top hat. You backed against the wall cold brick wall, praying that you could just fall back through it. ”Who are you?” you said trying to not let your voice tremble.

”Why I’m your dad’s boss… although he has been looking for a career change” the man turned back towards the door and waved his hand saying ”Bring him in”. Two men came in dragging your dad who was severly beaten up.

”Dad!” you screamed and try to run to your father but the chain around your waist wouldn’t let you. ”Y/n” your dad said weakly. The creepy man then said joyfully to your father ”See what happens when you leave wonderland, you ruin everybody else’s fun”.

You the realised who was standing in front of you… The Mad Hatter. You felt tears sting in your eyes. ”Please let us go” you begged. But the Mad Hatter only smiled at you and said ”But we’ll have so much fun you and I, we’ll have a tea party”.

He then turned his smile to a frown and said ”But as for your father… he’s not invited”. Then he smiled wickedly at you and said ”Off… with… his… head!”. The henchmen immediately started beating your dad mercilessly as you begged them to stop. Meanwhile the Mad Hatter just cackled loudly.

Soon your dad’s lifeless body layed on the floor infront of you. The Mad Hatter and his henchmen left without a word… not even sparing you a glance. You cried for hours, begging the Hatter wouldn’t comeback.

When what you could only assume was a day later had passed, you heard something outside the room. Loud noises. Voices. You shrunk into the corner as if to hide yourself, even though there was nothing to hide behind.

Maybe the Mad Hatter was coming to kill you now…

Then the door creaked open slowly making you cover your mouth to not make a noise. The door opened fully revealing a man, not the Mad Hatter… someone else.

He wore a Red Helmet but he seemed to have spotted you… And you could just hear him say quietly ”That fucking sicko”. He then spotted your dad’s body and walked slowly towards you. You raised a fist at him but he said in a calm tone ”Don’t worry, you’re safe now”.

He set you free from the chains and you ran over to your dad, his body was cold as ice, you knew there was no way to save him. You started weeping and the hooded figure knelt beside you putting a hand on your shoulder.

After letting you cry for as long as you needed, the man said ”We should go” and he guided you out of the room. You were shaking as he walked you out of the Hatter’s lair. You were met with Batman surrounded by all of his sidekicks who had captured the Hatter. You only now realized you had been saved by THE Red Hood.

”Red Hood, what took you so lo-” Batman started cutting himself off as he noticed you. Everyone was silent for a moment. Red Hood then said ”I’ll explain later but we need to get him to hospital to see he’s alright”. ”Right” Batman answered understandingly.

They took you to a hospital, where you were first checked over by doctors and then spent the night there. When you woke up you found that a ”Get well soon” balloon had been tied to the end of your bed.

Shortly after you were taken into foster care for a while, until a foster care worker asked you to come to her office. Inside was the foster care worker and a relatively young man, probably only in his mid-twenties. ”Y/n, please come in” the worker said.

You did as told and she said ”This is Mr Jason Todd”. The young man held out a hand for you to shake, which you did politely and confused. ”Mr Todd, would like to speak with you in private, If that’s alright?” she asked. You looked the man up and down suspiously but said ”Okay”. ”Good, I’ll be right outside if you need me” the worker said leaving the two of you alone.

”How are you doing, after everything?” Mr Todd asked. ”I’m… managing” you said a bit unsure. ”I wanted to come check on you, since… since I was the one who found you there” he explained.

”You’re the Red Hood?” you asked.

”Yeah” he answered softly. You didn’t ask any further questions about it.

”The world feels so empty now” you stated. Jason felt his heart break knowing what you meant ”I understand”. The two of you talked for a while before Jason said ”I would like to offer you something”.

You became quiet. ”Would you like to come live with me?” he said. You were caught off-guard first and only said ”… what”. He then proceeded to explain again, that he’d like to adopt you. You were unsure at first but looked him in the eyes, they had a kind warm depth to them. You trusted him.

”Yes. I would” you said.

——

It was weird living together at first. Jason didn’t want to cross any boundaries as if he was a ”replacement dad” and you were unsure how to act around your adopted father. You were both just not sure how you fit in to the others life.

But Jason would still do his best to spend time with you in different ways, helped you decorate your room, help you with your homework, cook together, take you to the arcade, etc…

Jason’s family was also very welcoming with you when you first visted the Wayne manor to meet them, obviously they’d have to tell you about being the bat-family.

There was also the slightly awkward yet funny moment of realising Damian was technically your uncle despite being around the same age as you.

But Damian would 100% pick up the cool protective uncle role for you and if ANYONE messes with you, there’s now a target on their back. He also now owns a t-shirt that says ”Favorite Uncle”.

They would start giving you some light combat training, mainly for self-defence but also incase you’d like to join the Bat-Family when you’re older.

You and Jason would also start your own family tradition of getting take out and watching movies together on friday nights. Sometimes inviting his family or his or your friends to join.

During one of those nights when the two of you had been up to 2 in morning watching a bunch of movies, Jason noticed you had gotten sleepy and said ”You should probably get to bed”. ”Yeah” you said yawning.

As you stood up and walked to your room you turned to Jason and said in a sleepy tone ”Goodnight Dad”. Jason froze on spot. He didn’t know if it was just because you were so tired but you had called him dad.

And he felt a warmness in his heart and said quietly ”Goodnight Son”.