#and like they get injured and what not and yeah he patches them up

[threegoldfish]

So he is concussed then, huh? Great. Yeah, he'd expected that to have happened - it's not the first time for him to end up in this kind of state, certainly, and so he's familiar with the throbbing pain, the slight dizziness, the ache in hise nose and lip...

Look at him sitting in a crazyhouse's infirmary, banged up to hell and back. Certainly didn't expect that to ever happen in his damn life, for sure.

---The kindness is what somehow gets to him more than the actual injuries do, in a way. Sure, back at the military, whoever had cared for them when injured had also been nice, all things considered, but... Let's say, the mood certainly is a different one when you're a soldier - they need to patch you up quickly and efficiently, make sure you can go back out there as soon as possible, do not suffer from any long-lasting complications or shit.

Here, however? Everything is silent, calm, and no one seems to be in a rush. That paper cup with those pills inside is offered to him, and Marc takes it with a slightly shaky bloody hand, tips those pills back into his throat within a second and a half - no water needed. He's definitely swallowed bigger pills in his life before.

Once done, Marc reaches for that ice-pack - holds it against his temple, eyes falling closed at the sensation of something nice and cool where it feels hot and burning. Another sigh escapes him and his spine curves a bit as he allows himself to sit a bit more slouched, less perfect, with his one elbow coming to a rest on his own upper thigh...

"---You don't like anything, huh." Yes, Marc is making a comment at Harrow there, muttering those words under his breath, eyes remaining closed as he tries to relax into the sensation of being taken care of - fuck, the ice feels heavenly against his temple. "Don't like plants. Don't like color. Don't like anything that's not white or glass. Don't like using a computer system to deal with the damn library. ---Shit, man, you've got a serious case of OCD going on. You ever let someone check that out? ...I mean, you're already part of a crazyhouse, so--- you could, y'know, get your diagnosis here, I'm sure..."

...---Marc is definitely poking fun at the doctor there, and even the corner of his mouth twitches at his own words... he's pretty sure he won't get into trouble for that, because Harrow has already promised him to not be in trouble for getting into a fight with another patient, after all. A real fist-fight and all. So, being a bit of an asshole here sure won't tip things over now, correct...?

"...Bet if someone were to ask you what your favorite color is, you'd say something along the lines of 'as long as it's not white or made of glass, I don't like it'..."

The nurse - Jenny, her name tag said - clicked her pen as she wrote down the list on a nearby clipboard. A fight, nose, lip, headache; nothing surprising. She was moving back in an instant, kneeling beside Marc with gentle movements. 

“Definitely a little crooked,” she agreed, looking over the bridge of his nose. “Could be broken, could just be bad swelling. But your pupils are a bit uneven, and you do look a bit pale - classic combo. I’m gonna make a note, but I don’t wanna panic you.” 

She flashed the light in Marc’s eyes, one at a time, watching him closely. “Your response time is a little sluggish. We’ll keep you sitting for now, no lying down for at least a few hours. Maybe longer, I might swing by to check on you later tonight.” Her voice was kind but firm, a tone she clearly used most of the day. “I’ll get you an ice pack for your temple, and a clean towel for you to clean off with.” 

She stood up, her eyes flicking to Arthur. Arthur looked back, just for a moment; raising his eyebrows, but not saying anything to her. She continued on without him, going back to her desk - “You still on that library project?” She asked. “Or did you finally surrender to the cataloging software?” 

Arthur had moved to one of the seats near Marc, settling into it and stretching his leg out in front of him. “Still fighting the good fight,” he answered. “I don’t trust that system. It doesn’t categorize things the right way.” 

The nurse snickered, digging through the cabinet. She wrapped one of the ice packs in a soft cloth, grabbing a cup and putting some pills into it; two of them, small and white. “I still don’t know why you’re working on that by yourself. You could ask the interns to help.” 

Arthur hummed. “I don’t like how they organize things, you know that, too.” 

The nurse hummed in return, smiling as she made her way back to Marc. “He chewed me out, the last time I borrowed his stapler,” she informed. 

Ignoring Arthur’s explanation of ‘I was in a mood’, she sat down again next to Marc, giving him the ice pack and the paper cup, the towel slung over her shoulder. 

“Here’s the magic,” she promised. “Ice is for the swelling - just sit here for a few moments, we’ll see if we need to do anything else to your nose. Alright?” 

She smiled with the kindness of a mother, staying sitting right next to Marc. Keeping an eye on him, maybe just a bit - wanting to make sure that nothing was worse, even though she was fairly certain they’d have to do something more about his nose. 

[buggshot]

smashes them together like dolls

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི His⋆♱⋆Affliction ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

snyopsis: The vampire Alucard finds an injured traveler at his doorsteps, and nurses her back to health. Though what happens during your recovery is woefully unexpected, but intrinsically welcomed.

tags: porn w/plot (rare for me lmao), he fell first but you fall harder type trope, yearning, pining, slow burn (i tried), passionate, penetration, cunnalingus, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, marking, biting, bloodletting, creampie, praise, usuage of “darling”, “dear”, “da draga mea” (“yes my dear” in romanian). L bomb gets dropped bc yk what, hell yeah?, pathetic alucard bc absolutely yes

word count: 11.5k wowza

a/n: a true passion project i love you alucard THANK YOU @cosmicporos for helping me with ideas for this fic mwah and also @eridanusco for informally requesting LMAO. Also sorry i dont know how to end fics pls let me live guys pls i tried :(

(click the title for a playlist! I listened to it a billion times when writing this)

Sounds of a distance neigh grew closer and closer to the ear of the blonde dhampir- who sat desolate inside cold walls. Your loyal steed, galloped you to the tall castle doors, pacing back and forth, whining for attention until The Alucard finally came down and took your lumbering body inside, and your horse to the stable of course, he’s not a monster…as much as he beleive so.

After what seemed to feel like a coma, you open your eyes to the stinging rays of sunlight that pass your eyelids; Waking up to a room unfamiliar and a man even moreso.

Alucard sat in a wooden chair that smelled of the same cedar he tended the fire with.

As the scent and the sight hit your senses, you rustled up and back into the corner of the walls in a hurried panic.

Alucard's eyes widened a bit, surprised by your wake. He gently placed his occupying book down and slowly got up from the chair, holding his hands up as if to show you he meant no harm.

"Easy, easy now...calm down. You're safe."

“Who the hell are you-“ you question in fright at his fanged teeth.

He gave a slight frown, eyes shifting a bit as he studied you.

“This is my home, your wounds…you’ve been here just short of a day.”

He explained, keeping his distance to not further frighten you- pointing to your abdomen.

“You're- a vampire?!!”

He chuckled slightly, not amused by the fear in your eyes but understanding your reaction”

"Half vampire, actually” He went on, “But I mean you no harm, you have my word."

“You could be lying”.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of irritation in his voice at the accusation

"You'll have to trust me on that, won't you? If I wanted to hurt you, I could've done so long ago. You were passed out and bleeding on your horse's back."

Realization hit you, his arms crossing over his chest as you stay silent in protest.

"You were quite injured, I patched you up the best I could and kept you in this room to rest. Please allow me to heal you back to health completely.”

You stay in the corner of the bed with your hands clutched onto the thick fur blanket. You give him a nod, accepting his proposal, although reluctantly.

He nods back, sensing the fear and uncertainty radiating off of you but appreciative that you aren’t too stubborn.

"It would've been wrong to leave you to bleed out in the woods." He said, slowing returning to the fire and book.

“I didn’t know vampires had morality.” You retort, slipping out of your mouth without much thought.

He but only chuckles, you can almost hear his smile as he speaks, low and soft.

“I’ve had my share of…distasteful humans. But your horse made a good case for you, you know.”

You have to almost stop a smile- becoming more comfortable by the second with his seeming civility.

Not too comfortable, though, feeling the bandages around your waist.

He looks back and sees you touching them through your shirt.

“Can I see them?” He asks, walking closer to you now with a voice of concern.

You nod.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, being careful not to touch you unnecessarily, reaching out and gently unwrapping the bandages, his movements slow and deliberate as he revealed the wounds beneath.

You wince slightly at the cool air hitting your broken skin, your stomach flexing inwards and your lungs expanding.

He pauses for a moment as you flinch, his eyes flicking up to your face.

"I'm sorry, I'll be gentle," he says softly before continuing to unwrap the bandages, revealing the cuts and gashes on your body. His expression hardened again as he took in the extent of your injuries, his fingers tracing lightly over the wounds, gentle and steady.

“How do they feel?” He asks, taking all the bandages off and reaching to the nightstand for more.

“Fine” You reply.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I can sense your emotions, you know. And you're not very good at hiding them."

You feel your brows contort into irritation, you dont even know what for- maybe your innate distrust.

"What, you're mad that I can read you so easily?" He replied with a smile, enjoying your annoyed expression a little more than he thought.

“It's a bit annoying…” You say, raising your brows, with a sprinkle of sass.

He smirked again, his lips playful.

"Well, I'm sorry if it's annoying. But you're quite expressive. It's hard not to notice when you look like that.”

“Like what-?” You retort.

“That.” He replies quickly, making you swallow your words.

You watch as he redresses your wounds, taking his time to wrap the bandages around your waist and stomach.

You take that time to look at his face more carefully than before- being this close to a vampire wasn’t something you think you’d live long enough to be able to observe like this.

You noticed his light amber hair, his yellow eyes and long lashes that gave him an epicene charm. You couldn’t keep your curious eyes from wandering over his features, he smelled like oud and iron.

When he was done, you looked out toward the open window, the sill swaying back and forth as the wind dance.

“How long will they take to heal?” You ask as you look back down at his hands.

"It depends. The wounds were quite severe, so it may take a while for them to fully close. The medicine should accelerate the healing process, but it's not instantaneous.”

“Okay- well, if it's fine i'll return to my town then by tomorrow.”

His expression shifted to surprise at your statement.

"You want to leave already? You're not fully healed yet, it's not safe for you to go back out there. They could open, get infection, you could get-“

“I don't wish to bother you any longer- you've already helped me enough.” You state. You’ve been quite wary about vampires- raised to practically believe they were spawns of hell itself.

He raised an eyebrow, his surprise quickly replaced by a hint of irritation

"Bother me? Nonsense. You're a guest in my home, and I don't intend to just let you wander off into danger when you're just as injured as when I found you.”

“It's still an inconvenience…”

He lets out an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're insufferable, you know that?” It's not an inconvenience. You're my responsibility now, whether you like it or not.”

You let out an equally annoyed huff, but you don’t bother to object anymore, clearly stuck and indefensible.

“Fine”. You breathe out.

He gave you a firm nod, satisfied that you had agreed to stay.

"Good. You'll stay here until you're fully healed. I won't have you running off and getting yourself killed out there."

He watched you as you settled back into bed, his expression softening slightly

"I'll be back to check on you later. Try not to do anything reckless while I'm gone." He says, walking out the door.

“Wait!” You shout.

He pauses in the doorway, turning to look at you.

"Yes?"

“What’s your name?”

“Alucard”, is what you hear before the shut of the door.

You hear his descending footsteps on the floor of the castle, plopping your head back into the goosefeather pillows as you stared at the brick ceiling, trying to get comfortable again, as much as you could considering your circumstance.

Hours had passed, and sleep didn’t miss you on its way.

Alucard had come back to your room, opening it after not hearing any confirmation at his soft knocks.

He saw your sleeping state and moved quietly as to make sure sure not to disturb you, scanning over your form, taking note of your condition and whether you were in any pain or discomfort even if your unconsciousness.

He leaned over and placed a hand on your forehead, checking for a fever or sweats.

After making his observations, his eyes lingered on your hair, fingers carefully brushing against a few strands as he withdraws his hand.

He found himself captivated by the color and texture, a hint of curiosity flickering within as the sunlight filtered through the window and casted a warm glow over your skin, the smooth contours of your face and neck.

He looked at your physiognomy in almost jealously, envious of your humanness. The feeling of your warm skin coursing with blood that hadn’t yet gone through the process of death. He brushed his knuckle softly against your cheekbone but quickly removed it once he felt you slowly stir away.

You crack your eyes open and flutter your flashes as the setting sun pokes at your lids again.

“Is it evening already?”

He nods, his voice low and quiet, walking around the corners of the room to light the candles scattered around to offer some light before the moons arrival.

"Yes, it's getting late. You've been asleep for quite a while."

You let out a long drawn yawn and attempt to sit up near the headboard.

He watches, eyes tracking your every move. He can see the pain and stiffness in your movements, a pang of guilt tugging at him for not being able to do anything for you in that moment.

"Careful," he murmurs, voice taint with concern. "You're still injured, remember? You shouldn't be sitting up yet. Let your body heal."

“I can't just sleep all day.”

"Yes, you can”…He continues, trying to push through without the conversation. “You're still recovering. You need to take it easy and let your body heal itself. Sleeping is the best way to do that." He crosses his arms over his chest, a hint of frustration in his voice over your seemingly unmovable persistence.

You frown at his scolding, crossing your arms back.

"What's with the pout? You look like a petulant child."

You scoff, leaning your head back and mouth slightly agape.

“That's rude...”

He chuckles, a smirk growing at your response.

"Is it? I was merely stating the truth.

You're acting like a spoiled brat who doesn't want to listen to their caretaker."

“I'm just tired of sleeping so much...”

“Well I can’t just let you run around and frolick can I?”

You pout again, knowing he’s right but not wanting to agree out of…pettiness.

He shakes his head and sighs, “Stay here, I’ll bring you some food”.

“Yeah sure i’ll stay! No problem Doctor!” You say with fringed enthusiasm. “Can’t really go run and frolick can I…?” You mumble after.

“I heard that.” He says as he walks out, making you chuckle a bit.

As you wait, your stomach growls even more, wondering what kind of food you’ll be given. With all the wealth and luxury displayed in just the small portion of the castle you’ve been limited to witness- you had set your expectations high….unfortunately.

He comes back not more than an hour or so later- hair tied up in a low messy bun and what seems to be flour on his pants.

You see Alucard bring in a tray of a small loaf of bread and a bowl of what smelled like plain chicken stock, small floating pieces of carrot.

He sits down next to the bed, putting the tray on the edge of the bed before helping you sit up just a bit so you could eat.

You look at him and then the food- the silence and your inactive made him scoff.

“Are you hands broken all of a sudden? Do you need me to feed you?” He says bluntly, raising his brows in disbelief of your shamelessness.

You gave him a shrug and innocent expression smile- but he lets himself fall to your poorly executed manipulation.

He tears a piece of the what you can only imagine is some kind of buckwheat bun, as he dips it into the plain soup.

“Fattening me up so you can eat me?” You say as the soup soaked bread moves closer to your mouth.

He rolls his eyes and holds it closer to you to take a bite.

Before you open your mouth to accept the bread, you catch a wiff of the smell and…your head tilts away swiftly.

“Oh gods- you don’t even need to fatten me that’s gonna kill me first!” You say as you shake your head.

“What? Stop being dramatic. It’s just bread, here” He says, tilting your head back toward his face and the bread.

“Where did you get that? Did my horse produce it?!”

Alucard furrows his brows and scoffs.

“I made this…it took a while by the way.”

Your eyes widen- not knowing if you should be surprised and touched that he attempted to make you food or if you should be alarmed at how horribly it went.

“Oh…”

He sighs, “Is it really that bad..? What do you humans even eat besides bread and beer?”

You scoot back a bit, creating a good distance away from the bread.

“Is this- just chicken stock?” You ask, trying to find any kind of compliment to give him.

He looks at you deadpanned, and you have to stifle a smile.

“I should have gave that carrot to the damn horse…” He mumbled before getting up to leave with the tray.

“Wait wait!” You laugh as you protested, waving your arms back up to urge him to stay.

“I’ll try it…since you went out of your way.”

He sighs, giving you another chance and placing the tray back on your lap.

You have to gather more courage than you might have ever before- taking the same piece of bread he tore and counting your blessing before putting it into your mouth.

Truthfully- the chicken stock made it somewhat bearable, masking the stale like gummy texture of the bread…and swallowing it before it could bother you too much.

Alucard watched at the bedpost, arms crossed as he observed your expression.

You look up at him after the first bite, tilting your head back and forth and twisting your arm to try and say it wasn’t too aweful.

He lets outs a chuckle and sits back down on the chair; occupying his earlier read as he waits for you to finish your meal.

As soon as you’re finished, he glances at the empty bowl and plate, a hint of relief in his eyes

"You ate everything, good. It's important to keep your strength up while you're recovering."

You simply nod, not wishing you further frustrate him over his cooking inability.

"Get some rest now. You need it."

He takes the tray and turns to leave, but once again hesitates at the door, as if his body screams at him to stay longer than needed.

Looking back at you; his eyes roaming over your face as if committing it to memory.

“I never got your name, now that I think about it. I think I’d like to know what to address you as.”

You hesitate for a moment- but it’s the least you could offer, formality wise.

“Y/n.” You respond.

He replies in almost a whisper.

"Goodnight, Y/n." He smiles.

He won’t be going to bed anytime soon but he hopes your rest is committed.

“Goodnight, Alucard.”

Again is the shut of the door, and you know you won’t see him again til the next morning.

After he leaves the room, he stand in the hallway for a moment, lost in thought- he feels a heaviness in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips. It’s been a long time since anyone has said his name at all- nor with as much tenderness and void of disdain as the way in which you spoke it.

The next day comes, much like the last in its configuration, just as the next few would likely follow.

Alucard comes in and moves quietly around, tending to the small fire in the hearth and tidying up a bit around your room; keeping his movements soft and silent, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere while you sleep.

He notices the moment you start to stir, his eyes flickering towards your sleeping figure on the bed. He watches you wake, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he watches you blink sleepily.

“Goodmorning”, you hear from the vampire, chuckling as he sees you stretch. “Sleep well?”.

You reply with a nod, yawning greatly before giving him a “Mhm”.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him, glad that you were able to get some restful sleep. Moving closer to the bed, his eyes scan over you for any signs of discomfort.

"That's good to hear. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

You shake my head, truthfully feeling much lighter than the previous day. You sit up so you can present your wounds to him.

He nods in approval, satisfied assurance while he steps closer to the bed until he sits on the edge, gently reaching out to examine your wounds, his fingers lightly brushing over the bandages that cover your injuries and unwrapping you.

"They're healing well. You're lucky you didn't sustain any serious damage."

He relays, his palms trailing down your sides as he tries to feel for any swelling, and you seem to find your throat a bit dry.

He can hear you gulp, and he reluctantly pulls his hands away and starts to wrap you with new bandages, rolling your shirt back down.

“Thank you”, you reply, trying to fill the empty space between you two, even if it’s just verbal.

He pauses for a moment, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to thank him, and the sincerity in your voice catches him off guard.

He clears his throat again, trying to maintain his demeanor.

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just doing what I can to ensure your recovery."

You smile and nod, impressed by his humbleness.

“Do you think, I can go outside now?

Maybe for a walk.” You ask.

He hesitates, considering your request. Youve been confined to the room for almost a week now, and the thought of you getting some sun wasn’t the worst.

"Hm...I suppose it would be good for you to get some fresh air. But only for a little while. You're still recovering, so you shouldn't push yourself too much."

You smile even wider, glad that he wasn’t cruel or unreasonable.

“Thank you, will you join me?” You offer.

He feels his brows contort with confusion, but he can't help the small smile that follows.

"Me? You want me to go with you?"

“Well i've never been to this part of the country- i’m not so used to it.

He chuckles softly, finding your naiveté endearing

"I see. Very well, I'll accompany you on your walk." He replies, coming back to the edge of the bed and helping you up, putting out his forearm for you to hold yourself up with- making sure you don't stumble or fall.

"Take it slow. You might be a bit unsteady at first."

You hold on tight, feeling your limbs finally stretch out after hours of laying down with not much breaks.

He watches you carefully, his eyes following your every move. He notices the warmth of your hands on his arm, gripping and clinging to him so tight, and the closeness of your body sends a current through his body- and he finds himself putting a bit more effort into trying to push down the strange feelings that are bubbling up inside him, because of you.

"Easy there. Don't push yourself too hard."

Once he makes note of your posture, he slowly releases your arm, though keeping a hand hovering nearby, just in case you need support.

“Do you happen to have any clothes?” You ask, wanting to get into something more fresh compared to your tattered and messy clothing.

"Yes, I think I do. Stay here.” He says, quickly moving out of the room to retrieve them and arriving again only minutes later with a neatly folded stack of garments in his arms.

He hands them to you, his eyes flickering over your figure as he does so.

"These should fit you. Let me know if they don't."

You take the small pile with both hands and go to the washroom of your familiar room to change.

Alucard waited patiently outside the door, his mind racing as he imaged you changing inside- hearing the rustling of fabric and wanting to ask if you needed help but he didn’t want to overstep- didn’t want to make you suspect anything more of it all.

Desperately he tried to push the thoughts down into the back of his head, but they keep creeping up, making his heart race and his palms sweat a bit.

When you emerged back out in the clothes he gave you, his eyes almost widened, a faint melancholy in his gaze.

“What…you look like you want to say something.” You ask.

He looks back into your eyes as he’s snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry- sorry…no you look fine. It’s just that” He rambled on, “The clothes belonged to my mother, they suite you.”

Your brows rise at the information and your stomach drops a bit- feeling sorrow for him in his dark undertones. But you stay silent.

“Alright”, he continues, draping a red scarf around your neck.

“Keep this on, it’s cold in the mornings.” He says as he pulls your hair up from the scarf and lays it behind your shoulders, fingers brushing your ears slightly as he stands much closer now.

You only nod, allowing him to open the door and lead you out of the room for the first time.

When you step out of your enclosure of a room, you feel the smooth velvet carpet rolling out into the deep hallways of the ancient castle, soothing the soles of your bare feet as you walk alongside Alucard, looking around at the ceilings and the fixtures that adorn the home.

He watches as you take in the grandeur of the castle, a hint of pride in his eyes. He’s lived here for so long, but he sometimes forgets how impressive it must look to outsiders

"It's a bit much, I know. But it's been in my family for generations."

“No, it’s beautiful. Really.” You assure, taking everything in as you finally get to explore the place you’ve been locked up in.

He smiles again at your words, feeling a small swell of warmth in his chest. Expecting you like most people to be intimidated or scared by the castle's size and antiquity, but he can tell you seem genuinely impressed by it.

"Thank you. My father, Dracula, had it built many years ago. He desired opulence." He says with cadence.

As he explains more of the building’s interior, you both finally reach a exit. You can hear the chirping of birds and the wind on the other side as if a portal to an unexplored grove were near.

Alucard pushes the heavy doors open, revealing the sprawling gardens outside. The morning sun is casting a warm golden glow over the landscape.

The gardens- a riot of color, with blooming flowers and lush greenery filling every inch of space.

He watched as you step out into the grass. He can't help but find the sight of you barefoot in the garden endearing, your toes sinking into the soft earth as you breathe in the sweet spring air.

You open your eyes and look up, appreciating the sky from below opposed to the window from a distance as to which you were forced to do for the past few days.

Alucard, though, doesn’t follow your gaze. He instead can't help but admire the way the sun catches in your hair, and on your skin, making you look like you're glowing. A second, much more beautiful sun.

He finds himself staring for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty.

He also notices the way you hold the shawl closer to your body, and he wonders if you're cold or if there's something else you're trying to hide. He tries to resist the urge to reach out and brush a stray strand of hair out of your face again, wanting to feel just an atom of your being, as if to merge them with his.

He step closer, concern etched on his face

"Are you cold?"

You look back at him, your brows contorted and a soft look of vulnerability on your face.

“A little”, you admit.

He sees the goosebumps emerged on your soft and sunkissed skin, and he frowns slightly.

He takes the coat off his back, and drapes it over your shoulders

"Here, this should help." He says as he pulls you closer to him, your shoulders rubbing up as he keeps the draped jacket close around you, a bit too big but enough to warm you.

You give him an appreciative smile, and he returns one right back.

He watches you return your eyes back on the scenery, his gaze softening as he sees the way you admire the beauty of the world around you.

He’s seen this view countless times before, smelled the same air and felt the same breeze pass him by. But somehow, it seems more vibrant with you here with him now.

“Would you like to go back inside now?” You ask.

He shakes his head, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

"Not yet. Let's stay out here a little longer. Is that okay?” He asks softly.

You nod, happy that he’s willing to indulge you in just a bit more time outside.

You can’t help but feel his eyes glancing to you every now and then- and you try to ignore the urge to get closer to him.

Not for warmth, or because of the cold, or anything other than the flickering need to be closer to him.

Something entirely separate, something entirely unfamiliar.

After another few minutes, you two decide to come back inside to prevent any possibility of you catching a cold.

Alucard shows you a few more hallways and rooms along the way, pointing them onto and providing a little history lesson every now and then, not wanting to bombard you with his entire lifetimes worth of stories. When you arrive back at your room, he watches you settle back into the bed. A strange mix of emotions swirling within him. he wants to stay with you, but he knows he should give you some space.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment before speaking up again.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be around."

You smile and nod, “Thank you”. You whisper.

“Of course. I'll be in the library if you need me." He hesitates for a moment, as if he wants to say something more, but then he turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the room, leaving the door open this time- as if inviting you to join him.

Maybe you’re just thinking too much into it.

As he sits down on the wooden library chairs, trying to concentrate on the book in his hand and the ink that sticks to his quill, his thoughts keep drifting back to you, wondering what you're doing in your room and if you're comfortable.

He can't shake the feeling that he's being drawn to you like a moth to a flame- in an inseparable trap he set himself. His affliction.

Lost in his own mind, he snaps out of it as he hears a knock at the library door. He looks up, setting his book down to calls out.

"Come in."

You hear his command, opening the tall doors and peaking your head in to find him.

He looks up as you enter the space, his eyes widening slightly as you approach closer and walk down the sparse steps- secretly trying to hide the fact that he was thinking about you just seconds ago.

"Ah, I wasn't expecting you so soon.

Is everything alright?" He asks, feeling his heart suddenly accelerate.

“Yeah, sorry” You reply, handing him back his jacket, “you just forgot this”.

As he takes the jacket from you, his finger brushing against yours for a brief moment that he curses himself for not keeping it a second longer.

He looks at it for a moment before looking back at you.

"Ah, thank you. I didn't realize I had left it behind." He says in a more hoarse tone than usual.

You chuckle and nod, “I also didn't realize.” You say in a lighthearted tone.

He chuckles softly in return, his eyes locked on yours- Acutely aware of the way your scent fills the air around him, intoxicating him with its sweetness.

"I suppose I was too distracted this morning to notice."

He finds it harder and harder to resist the urge to reach out to you, to pull you closer to him with each growing second.

You break the short lapse of silence, your eyes trailing down to the desk full of books and sheets of freshly inked script.

“Reading?”

He also glances at the books on the table, trying to compose himself.

"Ah, yes. I was just doing some light reading. and annotation. Trying to take my mind off things." He says before looking back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. H can feel the tension between you growing, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions

“What, uhm- kind of things?” You ask, immediately feeling as if you overstepped.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should be honest with you. but he can't bring himself to lie.

"You." He speaks.

You nod, understanding as you touch your wound on your side- Assuming he’s referring to your injuries, knowing how much he cares to treat you. Pushing away the initial thoughts of affection, not wanting to get your hopes up.

He nods, a small sigh escaping his lips. He conflicts with himself- wanting to tell you every preoccupied thought he’s had of you since the moment he found you on the back of his horse.

"Yes, that. And other things." He slips in quietly.

“You should rest, you’re not well enough to be up for so long.” He says a bit more sternly.

You furrow your brows a bit in unease, wishing he elaborated.

“Right.” You respond plainly.

He sees the disappointment in your eyes and immediately regrets his words. He didn't mean to push you away, but he's afraid of letting his guard down, of getting too close to you.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated with himself

"I just... I don't want you to overexert yourself."

“It’s fine-“ You reply quickly, not wanting to invest more emotional energy into the exchange, exiting the library and walking back to your room, each step heavy and unrelenting as if your body rejects being away from him.

He watches your back as you leave, his heart sinking at the sound of your steps descending in volume. He wants to call out to you, to tell you to stay, but the words stick in his throat like a lozenge.

He sits there for a moment, frozen in place, before cursing himself under his breath. He knows he's messed up, but he's not sure how to fix it just yet.

Alucard remains in the library, pacing back and forth restlessly, still. He can't focus on anything, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

He curses himself for being so awkward and aloof, for not being able to express his feelings properly even if they aren’t all fleshed out and appropriate.

He wants to follow you, to make things right, but he's afraid of what might happen if he does. So he stays in the library, brooding and frustrated, feeling more alone than ever.

You on the other hand, stay cooped up in your room. Equally frustrated- pacing around the bed unaware of how similar you both seem to cope.

You stay until the sun sets, wondering if he’ll show anytime soon to check up on you like he has been- angrily ruffled into the bedsheets as you almost wish you never went to the library, wishing you just left it at the peaceful garden walk from this morning.

“Fuck it?” You think to yourself, just go. “Just get up…walk over to him and figure it out? Right?” What even is there to figure, maybe, you were just overthinking.

You put your hand on the doorknob, resting before you swing it open.

As you prepare to take the first step out your eyes widen at the sight of him right infront of you with his hand raised.

He freezes in his tracks, surprised to see you standing in the doorway. He hadn't expected you to open the door just as he was about to knock, and his face looking more pale than before, somehow.

He looks at you, heart racing as he takes in the sight- feeling a mix of relief and nervousness, unsure of what to say or do next.

“…Hi.” You break the silence.

He swallows hard, his palms feeling clammy. He forces himself to speak, his voice sounding hoarse and awkward

"Hey. I was just coming to check on you." He drew on.

“I was also going to find you.” You confess.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to be looking for him as well, his hopes rocking up.”

"Were you?"

“Yeah well- it's evening so I figured you'd want to check up on me again.” You sidetrack, dancing around the idea of anything else.

He nods, feeling a pang of guilt.

He had been avoiding you all day, and yet here you were, still thinking about him and his routine. Sure, he was too, but he hated the idea of burdening you with such heavy feelings in his care.

"Right, of course. I should've been more on top of it."

You nod, letting him into the room as you go to sit down on the bed as he follows you, his heart pounding in his chest. Why?

He can feel a tension between you two, one that’s been bubbling and thickening like a witches brew.

He tries to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keeps drifting to other things as he approaches you, his hand trying not to linger too long- prudent in his action.

He keeps his gaze clinical as he examines the wounds, rolling your shirt up and unwrapping the bandaged, but it's hard not to notice the softness of your skin beneath his fingers.

He gently touches the edges of the scars, his touch cautious as he checks for any signs of infection or irritation.

He’s aware of how close he is to you, how intimate the situation is, how for the past few days that he’s tried to ignore- scared of pushing himself onto you in any way.

He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and it's making it difficult for him to concentrate as he can see you watching him.

He glances up at you, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

“You look worried....”

He looks up at you again, his expression serious.

"It's just... the scars are still a bit red. I'm worried about infection."

You nod, your expression also turning more stone.

He frowns, his fingers tracing the edges of the scars lightly.

"I'll have to keep a closer eye on them. Make sure they don't get worse."

You nod, wincing slightly as he touches them.

He immediately stops touching the scars, his expression softening.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He whispers.

“It's okay- it just stings a little”. You assure.

But he still feels a pang of guilt at the thought of causing you pain, even if it was accidental.

"I'll try to be more careful. I just want to make sure they're healing properly." He goes on, feeling himself open up more- wanting to tell you just how much he cares.

He wraps you back up in new dressing, rolling your shirt down again and leaning down toward you.

“Hold onto me, I’ll help you up.” He says softly, putting his arms around your back as you wrap yours around the back of his neck, holding into him for support as he helps you up onto your feet without too much trouble.

For just a moment your chests press up- but soon letting go.

Alucard steps back, not wanting to cross any lines- but gods is his mind absolute chaos right now.

The feeling of your body closer than it’s ever been- the feeling of almost embracing you was too much for him to handle.

You clear your throat, leaning back against the bedpost, “Earlier today...in the library...”, you go on.

He perks back up, “Yes? What about it?”

“I'm sorry if i seemed too insistent, you probably wanted to be alone”…

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Don't apologize. You didn't seem insistent at all. If anything, I found your curiosity endearing."

He sends you a smile, a softer look.

"And I must admit, it was nice to have some company in the library for once. I've been alone for so long that l've almost forgotten what it's like to talk to someone…”

You smile back, “Me too.”

He returns your easygoingness, “You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

“I'm not, it's making me feel better too.”

He chuckles, a bit deeper this time.

"I see. So you're not just a beautiful woman with a sharp mind, you're also honest."

“I hope to be”, you reply wittingly.

“Honesty is a rare quality, you know.

Most people will say anything to get what they want, or to avoid hurting your feelings. But you... you seem to speak your mind without a second thought…Especially about my bread.”

You roll your eyes place and scoff, “I’ll never hear the end of it from you.”

“I’m still hurt.” He says, feigning offense.

The two of you exchange a few more pleasantries, both reveling in the fact that your issues from earlier have been mended and quickly forgotten. Thankfully.

Alucard glances out the window, seeing the darkness of the night outside and hearing your yawn.

"It's late. You should probably get some rest, as much as I wish to keep talking.” He adds on quickly.

You nod, opening the door as he walks out into the doorway.

“Goodnight, dear.” He says politely.

You respond with a kiss on his cheek, quick and gentle.

“Goodnight.” You say with a soft smile, and and shut the door on his dumbfounded face.

He stands there for a moment, stunned by your unexpected kiss.

His hand comes up to touch the spot where your lips had been, a look of surprise and... something else on his face. He shakes his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as he turns and walks away, heading to his own room and recalling the experience with every step. He tries to tell himself that it was just a polite gesture, nothing more, but he can't help the way his heart flutters at the thought of your lips on his skin. He knows any semblance of sleep won’t be easy- not after your stunt.

You sleep deeply through the night and into first light, unable to hear Alucard knocking at your door.

He knocks a second time, a tray of breakfast food in his hands.

Upon your lack of response, he enters the room quietly, his eyes immediately going to your bed to check on your condition- smiling softly as he sees you still asleep, setting the tray of food on a nearby table.

He walks over to the bed, his footsteps light and quiet so as not to wake you. It’s almost noon, and he wants to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of extreme exhaustion- considering the irregular surplus of sleep.

He continues to watch your face- finding himself getting used to the peaceful sight of your sleeping form.

But he notices a look of distress on your face, becoming concerned. He sits down on the edge of the bed, observing intently, his eyes narrowing as he realizes you're having a nightmare of some sort.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should wake you up, but the conviction on your face convinces him to act.

"Hey...wake up." He gently shakes your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your terrors.

He watches as you rise up in a jerked motion- breathe quick and heavy, pupils dilated and expression that of terror.

He places a comforting hand on your back.

"Shh... it's okay. You're safe now. It was just a dream." He says as he rubs your back in soothing circles, his touch gentle and reassuring. He looks at you with concern, his eyes filled with worry

"You were having a nightmare... do you want to talk about it?"

“I don’t really remember it-“ You say in a defeated tone, more annoyed than anything.

"Okay. But if you do, I'm here to listen."

“Thank you”, you say with a faint smile, his hand now on your shoulder.

"Of course.“ He glances over at the tray of food he brought in.

"I brought you some breakfast. You should eat something. It’ll take your mind off it perhaps?”

You take the tray appreciatively, nodding but still disoriented.

He notices the slight change in your expression. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit... dazed."

“Sorry- i'm just- still waking up”

He chuckles softly, amused by your sleepy state “It's alright. I understand."

He sits on the edge of the bed again, watching you pick up the food, satisfied that you're finally eating something.

He leans back against the headboard of the bed, content to just sit with you for a while.

"How are your wounds feeling today? Are they healing well?"

“Oh- yes I think so”, you say, putting the tray next to you and turning to face him, lifting your shirt up to let him examine them.

He runs his fingers gently over the healing cuts under your bandages, making sure they're not infected or still bleeding

"Good. They look like they're healing nicely. You'll probably be fully healed in a few more days."

“A few more days...alright”. You start to think to yourself, wondering what'll happen then- considering that you’ll have no need to stay here once you’re healthy.

He notices the look on your face, the slight furrow in your brow as you think to yourself. He lowers your shirt, his gaze fixed on you

"Is something wrong?”, he asks, getting closer to you as he tries to coax it out of you.

You simply shake your head.

He raises an eyebrow, not quite believing you. At all actually.

"You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?"

“I know…” You say, unconvincingly once again.

He reaches out and gently takes your hand in his, his touch gentle and comforting

"You can trust me, you know. I won't judge you. I swear it.” He says with a gentle expression.

“Yeah- yeah I know.” You say quickly, your face developing a rouge at his sudden act of affection. Or maybe it was just- care, a polite gesture of friendship.

You go back to eating your breakfast, slipping your hand out of his.

Even while enjoying your morning meal, your stomach is heavy with the residual feelings of your nightmare- frustration that you can’t seem to remember what made you feel so ill.

“Do you ever get nightmares?” You ask Alucard.

He looks to face you- a bit unprepared for your question but honest.

“At times, they seem more like recollections than fantasies of my mind.”

You furrow your brows, looking done at your food and playing around with it.

“I can’t remember what I was even dreaming about- but it’s a strange feeling.”

You go on, opening up about the discomfort of your body.

He frowns, feeling a mix of sympathy and concern for you. He pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away from you."

You let out a surprised sound- hands hesitating to wrap around him.

He can feel your surprise, unrelenting. He holds you tightly against his chest, one hand gently stroking your hair

"It's okay," he murmurs softly.

"You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. Alright?”

You feel your brows scrunch up and your body lighten- as if he’s shared some room in his body for you to lay your afflictions bare. To take some of the pain from you and lock it away in himself.

With contemplation- you hug him back.

He holds you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head

"That's it," he murmurs. "Just relax. Let me hold you."

His words soothe you like a balm, mending together pensive feelings of melancholy you weren’t even aware of before.

You feel warm tears roll down your cheeks, sniffling before he gently rocking you back and forth as he tries to soothe you

"Shhh, it's okay. Let it all out," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and compassion.

"I've got you," he continues.

You use every second to try and pull yourself up together- but he wraps around you close, holding you together as you fall apart in his arms.

He continues to whisper words of comfort, his voice low and soothing

"You're doing so well. Just keep breathing. In and out, that's it."

After a few minutes of much needed exhalations, you recover well in the vampires arms.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him as you relax against him. He gently tilts your chin up.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks gently, his hand still stroking your hair.

You let out a cathartic sigh, nodding.

He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from your face

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. You had me worried for a moment there."

“Sorry...I guess I just haven't had someone hug me a long time.”

He shakes his head, his hand still cupping your cheek.

"You have nothing to apologize for.

And don't ever apologize for needing comfort. Everyone needs a hug sometimes."

As you calm yourself more, Alucard decides to give you some space to recollect yourself, clearly needing it.

“I’ll give you some space. I’ll be in the library, if you need anything.” He reminds, before bidding you a goodbye after making sure you ate.

You take deep inhales and deeper exhales, your mind ringing with his voice guiding you through breathes.

The room becomes quiet and dark, you're left alone with your thoughts. The memory of Alucard's touch and his warm smile are all you can think about, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now- deciding it’s better to find out for yourself than wonder.

Alucard looks up as you enter the library.

He sets down the book he was reading and smiles softly.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

You smile and nod, walking closer.

"Come here," he says, patting the chair next to him. "You can keep me company."

You gladly take a seat, eyes roaming over the various books and sheets covering the desk- similar to yesterday’s spreads.

He notices how close your face is to his work. He closes the book, gently tapping your forehead with it.

"You're going to give yourself a headache if you keep reading like that," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

You pout and rub your forehead.

“Rude…” You say in a whisper.

You scoot closer to get a better look at the writing, your elbows folding on top of the table.

As you observe the scripts, Alucard is more concerned with how beautiful you look- even when you’re concentrated, and he can't help but feel a pang of longing in his chest- quickly pushes those feelings aside, not wanting to ruin the moment with his own desires.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing the pause of his writing and his gaze.

He blinks, realizing he's been caught staring. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ah, nothing," he says, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"Just lost in thought for a moment."

You nod, going back to watching him work, putting your head on his shoulder with the close proximity.

He freezes for a moment, completely caught off guard by your sudden closeness. He can feel the warmth of your body against his, and the scent of your hair filling his senses.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

He can feel your laughter vibrating through him, and it's a pleasant sensation.

"What's so funny, human?" he asks, playfully.

“Nothing, you've just….been on that page for a while. You can’t read can you? Tell me the truth.” You play around sarcastically.

He glances back down at the book, realizing that he's been staring at the same page for several minutes now, obviously at that.

He lets out a soft chuckle, embarrassed that he got so distracted by your presence once again, finding it to a troublesome, reoccurring issue.

"Ah, I guess I am a bit distracted," he admits, his gaze flickering back to you.

“No no it’s okay, lots of people can’t read you know. Don’t be embarrassed”, you continue with your nonsense joke.

You pretend to look around, your eyes going around left and right as he shakes his head.

He shuts the book, setting it aside and turning his full attention to you as he pushes it away.

He turns his body towards you.

"You're a distraction," he teases, poking your side gently.

“Hey!” You exclaim, “you invited me to sit here”, you digress, poking him back.

He chuckles and dips his finger in a small pool of ink, swiping it on your nose, making you backup a bit and give him more room for defense.

You gasp at the sudden cool touch of pigment- and run after him as he walks over quickly to the books nearby.

“This is not fair at all!” You exclaim, watching him dodge your attacks with ease.

“That seems like a personal issue, yes?” He says as he walks deeper into what seems like a maze of shelves.

As you get more and more competitive- you finally land a hit on him: a decently sized dab of ink landing on his cheek.

As it lands you run off- not wanting another hit of solvent somewhere on your face.

But of course…to your disadvantage, you can’t necessarily outrun a vampire.

Easily, he catches up to you- pinning you against the bookshelf. He stands over you, his body caging you in, as he holds up his finger- ready to mark you with another proof of failure.

"No escape now," he teases, his hand slowly and tauntingly smearing ink around your chin.

You roll your eyes and chuckle- the both of you breathless from the chase.

He can feel your small breathes mingle with his- noticing your chest pressed up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes locking onto yours, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intense.

He rubs your bottom lip- except you don’t feel anymore ink rubbing into you, just the touch of his skin, his eyes glued to your supple lips as you look at his gaze.

“Alucard…?” You whisper softly.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes still glued to your flushed cheeks and the staggered breathe that escapes from your mouth.

“Hm?” He responds, finally flickering his eyes up to look at you.

“Yes dear?”

As your eyes lock, you feel a force that only pushes you to an immeasurable distance into him- and he responds immediately.

As if endless moments of pining finally meet its destiny- the kiss is tentative at first, a slow exploration of each other's mouths.

He takes his time, wanting to savor every moment of this, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and enjoying it too.

Your arms wrap around each there- Alucards large frame pressing you into the bookcases behind you as his hands hold your sides- your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

He groans softly at your hands on him, your tongue meeting his in a heated dance. He's surprised by how easily you fall into rhythm with him, how well your bodies seem to fit together.

He revels in the sounds you're making, the way your body trembles against his. He descends his kisses to your cheek and then neck- feeling your pulse racing under his lips. He continues to kiss and nip at your neck, his fangs scraping gently against your skin as he moves down to your collarbone- the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin absolutely electric.

Your fingers grip slightly at his hair, running through them as he lavishes your shoulder with his sweet kisses.

Your body starts to arch into his touch. His hands on your sides tighten, holding you in place- his breath heavy as he starts to speak between kisses.

“Stop me…please, please stop me if you don’t want this…Stop me, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pleads, kissing up to your ear as his other hand snakes up to hold the side of your neck, pulling his face to look at you again, his aureate eyes piercing into yours.

You let out deep breathes from your nose, swallowing the lumps in your throat as your half lidded eyes meet his, nodding just enough to assure him before diving back into his lips.

He groans again at the feeling of your lips, his grip on your thighs tightening. He presses his hips against yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jawline and to your neck once more. He can't resist the urge to mark you, his teeth meeting kisses and sucks at the sensitive flesh.

“Alucard-“ You interrupt.

He growls against your neck, his teeth almost sinking into your skin just enough to leave a mark

"Yes, my dear?" he murmurs, his voice low and yearnful.

“You….can drink, if you want to.” You go on softly, seeing his eyes flicker with an immediate importance.

He lets out a shaky breath, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel his fangs lengthening, his body practically vibrating with need as he gulps.

"You shouldn’t say such things to a dhampir," he growls, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your pulse point once more.

He can feel your heart racing, the scent of your blood is enough for him to go mad- the sound of your blood that pumps through your veins sounding like the perfect symphony.

"Last chance to change your mind, y/n.” He murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You shake your head, holding his chin and tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I want to feel it…feel you.”

Your words cause his self-control to shatter. He can't hold back any longer, the need to taste your blood overpowering everything else, any sense of responsibility or moral compass gone- your declaration of want is all it takes.

He sinks his fangs into your neck, a deep moan rumbling in his chest as the taste of your blood hits his tongue. You feel the two long needles puncture your skin smoothly- the pain quickly subsiding as you feel his lips plant themselves on your skin and his breathe blows kisses over your skin over and over- his chest puffing out as he gets closer and more greedy.

You felt his hands clutching at your waist as if his fingerprints could weld onto your skin like iron.

The pain and pleasure mingled, creating a heady cocktail that clouded your senses.

The room spun around you, the world narrowing to the sensations of his fangs in your skin and the blood leaving you and nourishing him, his heart pounding in sync with your own.

You felt his hardened length, insistent, pressing against your thigh, a silent testament to the desire coursing through him while the taste of your blood intoxicates him- the taste like ambrosia, all while he can feel your body trembling against his, can hear the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips.

He can smell your arousal, the scent driving him wild with desire. He drinks deeply, his tongue lapping at the puncture wounds on your neck to encourage the flow of blood.

His grip on you almost bruising as he grinds against you-feeling himself losing control, his body acting on pure instinct as he takes what he needs from you, as if you were providing him with life force.

He finally pulls back, his fangs leaving your neck as he looks at you- your blood on his lips staining them as if he devoured a mound of cherries.

You smear the droplet across the corner of his lip- the red hue replacing what was once ink, pressing your lips onto his.

He moans into the kiss, his tongue tangling with

He carries you over to the nearest surface, which just so happens to be the desk you were just at. He sets you down on it, his body pressing against yours as he continues to kiss you hungrily and messily.

He chuckles against your lips, enjoying the way you groan as he pushes the books off the desk to make space for you. He lifts your hips slightly, grinding his hardness against you through the layers of fabric between you- growling in approval as you open your legs for him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses himself against you even more.

He nips at your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your chest as he begins to unbutton your shirt with deft fingers.

“May I?” He asks before completing removing it at your confirmation.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and leaving you exposed to him

"Gods, you're perfect," he murmurs, his hands moving to cup your breasts as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, your head tilting back as moans spills from your mouth- his tongue swirling around it before he gently nips at it with his teeth, the small remnants of your blood on his lips painting your chest in blotches.

His other hand moves to your other breast, his large hand almost completely covering it as he squeezes and kneads the soft flesh.

“Fuck-“ You groan, feeling his fingers tweaking at your sensitive buds while you feel him grinding even harder onto you his fingers trace patterns on your skin as he continues to worship your body.

Your fingers deftly unbutton his shirt, letting it fall open - his head perks back up to capture your lips once more.

Your hands trail down to his belt buckle.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your ear as he whispers

"Eager, are we?"

“Can you blame me…?”

"No," he murmurs. "Because I want you to be. I want you desperate and needy for me…burn for me, like I burn for you.” He groans against your ear, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and gripping your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt.

“Stay still”, he whispers, his voice much more playful now. “Let me check the rest of these wounds? Yes?” He mentions, slowly letting the tie of your skirt undo itself as he slides it down, humming in approval as you lift your hips for him.

His cold hands touch your bare skin and you almost flinch, but you welcome them.

“Draga mea…you’re stunning.” He groans, looking down to appreciate your skin under the moonlight seeping from the overhand windows of the library.

You feel the light seeping into your skin and more noticeably his hands becoming more

bold, more desperate, and daring. So are his kisses, descending down your neck to the valley of your breast, worshipping your skin as he kneels down to get on both knees while his face is met with your core- your cunt throbbing loud enough that his ears are sure to pick up on it.

He parts your thighs further, his hands gripping them tightly as he continues to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He's close enough now that you can feel his hot breath on your aching core, but he's deliberately avoiding touching you where you need it most.

“Alucard…please-“

He looks back up at you, cutting you off before you can beg.

“Adrian. I need you to call me that now.” He says, placing a kiss on your core through the fabric.

“Okay?” He adds, waiting for you to nod before he slips the fabric off and finally darts his tongue out to tease the sensitive skin just above your clit, smirking into your folds when he heard your breathe hitch.

He moves his tongue down slightly, tracing around your clit.

He can see how wet you are, your arousal dripping down, tasting it.

He starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around it in tight circles before dipping down to tease your entrance as your moans spill out, hand tangles in the his hair, gripping his golden strands and making him groan into you, eyes darting up to meet yours- lost in the taste and scent of you, completely consumed by the desire to make you feel good.

You feel your hands gripping tighter, the heavy cinch in your abdomen ready to snap.

Minutes that felt like hours of him reverently pleasing you- you tremble and gasp.

He doubles down his efforts, his tongue and lips working even harder to push you over the edge. He can tell you're close, your body trembling and your breath coming in short gasps

“Adrian- I’m-!” You whine, your legs loosening their clasps around his face as you cum on his tongue.

He groans loudly as you cum, his tongue eagerly lapping up every drop of your release. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and suck at your sensitive flesh even as you ride out your orgasm.

He finally pulls back, his face wet with your juices as he looks up at you. “You’re so beautiful when you cum. I want to make you do it over, and over.” He said, rising up to his feet- resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion, lips brushing on your ear.

“What do I do to you?” You reply, pulling your head back to look up at him.

He gazes back down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your innocent eyes. His hand cups your face, fingers tracing your supple face.

“You make me want things I never thought I could have. Things I don’t deserve." He admits, almost like confessing a sin to you, leaning in to kiss you again, pressing his lips against yours in a tender caress.

“I almost want to keep you here. Just for myself- look at how selfish you’ve made me, draga mea”. He speaks, a smooth accent painting his last words as he pecks kisses to your jaw, chuckling deeply as he feels your hands unbuckling his belt and letting it fall.

Both of your hands frantically pull at eachother- the innocent chuckles and soft kisses between the seconds it takes for him to undress and spread you apart- ready to give you the attention you need.

He positions himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He looks into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and possessiveness

"Are you ready for me, love?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you ready to feel me inside you?"

“Yes- please, need more Adrian.” You plead.

He slowly pushes in, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate thrust.

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he watches your expression

"Relax for me, love," he murmurs, his hands stroking your thighs gently. "Let me in."

You nod, breathing in and out softly as he helps you and reassures you with soft words and gentle caresses.

“You’re doing so well, keep going for me. Breathe…Fuck- just like that.”

He can feel your body relaxing around him, allowing him to slide in further with each slow glide of his hips.

When he finally bottoms out, he feels your walls clenching down on him- making him bite down on his one lil til it bleeds.

The same blood hits your lips over and over on an tangle of kisses, his pace getting faster and more intense as he starts to lose himself inside you- his heart beating in sync with yours as he fucks you on the desk that starts to creak now.

“Fuck- it's so...” You groan, your stomach pooling with the same feeling just moments ago.

"So what, love?" he asks, his voice rough. "Tell me. Tell me how it feels. Tell me everything.”

You whine softly- felling each thrust hammer into you even deeper as he urges you to speak.

“So...fucking good...” You admit, wholeheartedly.

He shudders at your words, his cock twitching inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath hot against your skin

"My perfect little human," he groans, his hands roaming over your body- your walls tightening hearing him whisper to you.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he whispers again, his voice low and seductive. "Being told how perfect you are? Hm?”

You can’t reply even if you wanted to- and you most urgently did. Only whines and moans escape your lips.

He chuckles, his smirk widening as he sees the effect his words have on you

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. "So beautiful, so sweet. I wonder how many times I can make you cum tonight."

“So close- Adrian!”

He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your breathing ragged and uneven

“Come for me, darling” he whispers, his voice smooth and sickly sweetened. "I've got you. I'll take care of you."

You look up at him once more- your big pleading eyes grasping for a piece of his soul to gaze into.

Looking down at you again, his eyes meet yours. He's momentarily struck by the vulnerability and trust in your gaze, and it almost brings him to his knees completely.

"God, I love you," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion- almost as if he had no time to think before he spoke, as if it would change anything.

Your heart thumps, unable to tear your gaze away.

“A-Adrian-“ You moan out- his cock still pumping in and out of you and hitting every spot to make you cry out- ultimately making you spill all over him as you cum.

He lets out a shaky breathe feeling you release.

He’s never said those words out to anyone before, never dared to hope that he would ever feel this way at all.

He buries his face in your neck, his movements becoming more desperate as he clings to you, still going even as you’ve finished.

"Say it," he begs, his voice rough. "Please, say it. I need to hear it."

Your thighs twitch around his waist- overstimulated and sweaty, “love you…Adrian-! I love you…” You reply, clawing your nails at his back.

He groans into your neck, his own orgasm washing over him in a powerful wave.

"Oh, gods-" he gasps, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He holds you tightly, his body shaking, licking at the wounds he planted on your neck from earlier, wanting to taste the crimson of your being, just a little more.

As the blood draws, each drop hitting his senses, he knows he is binded tightly to a world he cannot live in without your presence. His Affliction.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[luv-lock]

For SpiderGirl Y/N, how would they react to her being injured or dead. I wanna see them suffer. Only if you are ok with it. Love all your stuff, btw.

If you being injured:

The mission had been brutal, the enemy relentless, and the stakes higher than ever. But somehow, they made it through. Barely. And now, there you were—injured but alive, laying on the med bay table like the biggest diva Gotham had ever seen.

“Oh, God, I’m dying,” you groaned, clutching your side dramatically. Your hand was caked in blood, but it was far from life-threatening. Still, that didn’t stop you from milking it for all it was worth.

“You’re not dying, Y/N,” Dick said, crouching beside you with a worried expression. “The wound isn’t even that deep.”

You shot him a glare, your lips curling into a pout. “Easy for you to say, Golden Boy. You’re not the one bleeding out.”

Jason snorted from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “She’s got a scratch, and now she thinks she’s in a soap opera.”

“Shut up, Jason,” you snapped, though the bite was lessened by your theatrics. “I’m injured! I could have bled out on the battlefield. The least you could do is pretend to care.”

Jason rolled his eyes but walked over anyway, leaning down to inspect the wound. “You’re fine, princess,” he said with a smirk, ruffling your hair.

“I’m not fine!” you whined, slapping his hand away. “I need love and attention. Lots of it.”

Dick’s Turn

Dick was always the softie, and you knew exactly how to play him. You reached out with a trembling hand, your eyes wide and watery. “Nightwing,” you murmured weakly, “I don’t think I’ll make it. Hold me.”

He hesitated for a moment before sighing and sitting on the edge of the table. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

“There, there,” he said softly, stroking your hair. “You’re gonna be okay, Y/N.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning into him. “You smell nice,” you muttered, nuzzling into his neck.

Dick blushed furiously, but he didn’t pull away. Jason, on the other hand, gagged audibly.

“God, get a room,” Jason muttered, clearly annoyed.

Jason’s Turn

You turned your big, watery eyes on Jason next. “Jay… my favorite outlaw… my knight in shining armor… can you carry me? Please?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Carry you? To where? The couch is like ten feet away.”

You pouted, batting your eyelashes. “But I’m injured! And it’s your fault for being so handsome that I got distracted during the fight.”

Jason stared at you for a long moment before groaning. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to listen to you whining all night.”

He scooped you up effortlessly, and you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re so strong,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest.

Jason’s ears turned red, but he kept his expression neutral. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

Tim’s Turn

When Tim walked in with a first aid kit, you immediately perked up. “Timmy! My hero!”

He sighed, kneeling beside the table to inspect your wound. “Let me patch you up.”

You let him work for about two minutes before you got bored. Then, with a sly smile, you reached out and pulled his head into your lap.

“Y/N, what are you—” Tim stammered, his face turning bright red.

“I need comfort,” you said innocently, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re such a good boy, Timmy.”

Tim froze, his brain short-circuiting as you hummed softly, clearly enjoying his embarrassment.

Damian’s Turn

Damian stormed into the room, clearly irritated. “Why are you whining like an infant?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Because I’m injured, you little gremlin,” you shot back. “Now come here and give me a hug.”

Damian scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

But when you held out your arms, looking pitiful and teary-eyed, he hesitated. Finally, with a huff, he walked over and awkwardly patted your head.

“There. Are you happy now?”

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. “Aww, you do care, baby bird.”

Damian squawked indignantly, struggling to escape, but you held on tight. “Let me go, you lunatic!”

Bruce’s Turn

Bruce entered the med bay last, his expression as stern as ever. “What’s going on here?”

“She’s being dramatic,” Jason said, gesturing to you.

“She’s injured,” Dick corrected.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, stop harassing them and let me see the wound.”

You pouted but let him approach. As he carefully inspected the cut, you leaned your head against his arm. “Daddy Bats, you’re so gentle,” you teased.

Bruce froze, giving you a pointed look. “Do you want me to help or not?”

You grinned. “I do. But a kiss on the forehead would speed up my recovery.”

Bruce groaned, clearly regretting every decision that led to this moment. “You’re impossible.”

By the end of the night, you were bandaged up, pampered, and thoroughly satisfied with the attention you’d received. And while the boys all pretended to be annoyed, they couldn’t hide the fact that they cared.

If you die:

The night was eerily silent, as though the city itself knew it was about to lose its spark. Gotham was cold and unforgiving, but it had always been alive because of you—chaotic, unrelenting, and fearless. And now? Now, you were gone.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Dick (Nightwing)

Dick was the first to find you. Blood pooled beneath your broken body, your mask torn to reveal your face—pale and eerily peaceful. For the first time, he saw you. He saw the girl who was tired, scared, and brave all at once.

“Y/N!” he screamed, sliding to his knees beside you. His hands shook as he cradled your head, desperately searching for a pulse. “No, no, no! Stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!”

But you weren’t fine. You’d fought until the very end, trading jokes for grit, determination, and a ferocity none of them had truly appreciated before. And now? Dick was left holding your lifeless body, sobbing into your blood-soaked suit.

“This isn’t fair,” he whispered, his tears falling onto your face. “You were supposed to be invincible, dammit.”

Jason (Red Hood)

Jason was next, drawn by Dick’s anguished cries. The moment he saw you, his heart stopped. You, who somehow made him laugh even on his darkest days—you were gone.

He didn’t cry, not at first. He couldn’t. Instead, he fell silent, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Who did this?” he growled, his voice trembling with rage.

When no one answered, he turned to Dick, his eyes wild. “WHO DID THIS?!”

Jason’s fury was all-consuming, but beneath it was a grief so raw it threatened to break him. He knelt beside you, brushing the hair from your face with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his shaking hands.

“You weren’t supposed to go out like this,” he muttered. “You were supposed to annoy us forever, you hear me? Forever, Y/N.”

Tim (Red Robin)

Tim didn’t want to believe it. He stood frozen, his mind racing to find a way—any way—to fix this. You couldn’t be dead. You were the one who called him “good boy,” who smothered him with affection, who always seemed untouchable despite your reckless behavior.

“This… this isn’t real,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “She’s faking it. She’s… she’s messing with us.”

But you weren’t. And when Tim finally accepted the truth, he collapsed. He crawled to your side, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “You can’t leave us,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I need you. We all do.”

Damian (Robin)

Damian didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He simply stood there, staring at your body as though willing you to get up. You always did when he told you to. Always.

“Get up,” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp. “You’re not allowed to die.”

When you didn’t move, his composure cracked. “Y/N, I’m serious. Get up! Stop… stop playing around!”

And then, for the first time, Damian fell to his knees. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard they drew blood. “You’re a coward,” he spat through gritted teeth, his voice thick with emotion. “You left me. You promised you wouldn’t.”

Bruce (Batman)

Bruce arrived last, his face as stoic as ever—until he saw you. His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he wasn’t Batman. He wasn’t the Dark Knight. He was just a man who had failed someone he loved.

He knelt beside you, his gloved hand brushing against your cheek. “You were just a kid,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “You deserved more time.”

Bruce had seen death before, but this? This was different. You weren’t just another casualty. You were family. And he had failed you.

“I should have stopped you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I should have protected you.”

Alfred’s Grief

Alfred was the one who had always known how to handle you, from the moment you spat in Bruce’s face as a child to the day you showed up in a spider suit, smugly proclaiming yourself Gotham’s best hero. You were incorrigible, maddening, and unapologetically yourself, and Alfred adored you for it.

When he heard the news, Alfred didn’t cry. Not at first. He simply closed his eyes, placed the tea tray he’d been preparing on the counter, and leaned against the sink. His hands trembled as he clutched the edge, the weight of your loss sinking into his bones.

“She was just a child,” he murmured to no one, his voice thick with grief. “My child.”

That night, Alfred cleaned your suit. He worked silently, meticulously wiping away the blood and patching up the tears as if you might walk through the door and demand it back at any moment. When he finished, he folded it neatly and placed it in the Batcave beside the others, his hands lingering on the fabric.

“She would have wanted it spotless,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The Manor felt colder without you. He found himself pausing at the sound of laughter, only to realize it wasn’t yours. He missed the way you teased him, calling him “Alfie” and sneaking cookies from the kitchen. Most of all, he missed the way you brought life into a house filled with so much darkness.

The Funeral

The Manor was silent in the days following your death. No one spoke unless absolutely necessary, and even then, it was barely above a whisper. Your absence was a gaping wound none of them knew how to heal.

Jason stayed in his room, punching walls until his knuckles bled. Tim buried himself in work, desperate to distract himself. Damian trained until he collapsed, refusing to let anyone see him cry. And Dick couldn’t even look at your room without breaking down.

Bruce tried to hold them all together, but even he struggled. At your funeral, he gave a speech, his voice steady but his eyes filled with sorrow.

The Aftermath

They all dealt with your death in their own way, but one thing was constant—they would never stop missing you. Every quip, every smile, every moment of chaos you brought into their lives was etched into their memories forever.

Jason would often find himself staring at the night sky, muttering, “You’d probably call me a softie for this.”

Tim would keep a photo of you on his desk, a constant reminder of the person who always believed in him.

Damian would visit your grave, silently promising to make you proud.

And Dick? Dick would tell stories about you to anyone who’d listen, keeping your memory alive.

As for Bruce? He’d sit in the Batcave late at night, staring at your suit and wondering what he could have done differently.

You may have been gone, but you would never be forgotten. You were their light. And the hole you left in their lives would never be filled.

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Nurse!Reader x 141 and stickers

How I think the 141 would act if Nurse!Reader gives out stickers to all the soldiers they patch up on base: This is my first headcanon

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish absolutely fucking loves the stickers, like he's lowkey obsessed with getting one. His sketchbook is covered in the stickers you give him and if there's no more room for the stickers that's okay. He'll just buy a new one. Lowkey gets pouty and sassy if you forget to give him a sticker after patching him up.

And we are done. Good as new 

Soap wait's patiently with his hand stuck out 

What are you waiting for Soap?

Fur mah sticker. Obviously

Oh shit. Sorry, I forgot

Whit dae ye mean ye forgot? dae ye nae care aboot me anymair

Grow up you drama Queen

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Is a bit like Soap in a way he loves the stickers. They make him happy in this fuck up world, when he get's his sticker for being a brave boy, as you say, he wears the sticker all day as a badge of honour but if he looses the stickers randomly in the day he gets kinda pouty when he asks for another one 

Can I have another sticker please?

Did you loose yours already?

I didn't mean too! I think Soap stole mine. Pretty please can I have another one

You know the rules. Unless you're injured I'm not giving you a stickers

Cue puppy dog eyes

Goddamit Kyle. Fine, here's your sticker but don't loose it

Captain John Price felt a bit silly at first when you gave him a sticker. He's grown man, he doesn't need a sticker for getting patched up but he very quickly grew to love receiving a sticker off you. He asked if you'd tare the paper the sticker is on, they're easier to save then. He doesn't stick them anywhere but has a small box in his office where he stashes them. For safe keeping.

Why don't you wear the stickers?

Because it ruins them

Ruins them?

Yeah. I like to hold onto them

Do you stick them anywhere?

Nope. I have a small box specifically for the stickers you give me 

Simon 'Ghost' Riley thought the stickers were a stupid idea, he's a grown ass man. Why would he want a sticker for getting patched up? He isn't a child. That's what he tells you but secretly he adores them. He'll moan and grumble as you slap one onto his chest but the moment he's in his room, Ghost will carefully peel it off his shirt and stick it in a scrapbook. Once got a little upset you didn't give him a sticker, he left the infirmary pretending he didn't care but 1 hour later he came back

Why didn't you give me a sticker?

Because you don't like them. You said they were stupid

Well. That's because they are. M'not a child

Then why are you asking why I didn't give you a sticker?

Ghost quietly grumbling and sticking his hand out

Can I just have my sticker please 

[forever-rogue]

hii i love the way u write for Joel and was just wondering if i could request something.

so i always see people write joel coming home later then usual after patrol and reader is very worried but i haven’t seen much of it the other way around, like reader is on patrol without joel and joel is all worried and can’t sleep and is just waiting for reader to come home and maybe reader comes back with a few cuts and bruises but nothing to serious but joel is just taking extreme care of her 🥹

AN | Oh, but I love this concept! Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Pacing ain’t going to get you anywhere,” Ellie stood at the foot of the stairs with her arms over her chest as she looked at Joel, “you of all people should know that better than anyone. ‘Sides what are you even worrying about?”

“Ellie,” he sighed her name in that familiar tone that never failed to amuse her. He’d been at the front door, poking his head out and looking around the yard and surrounding area, “why are you still up?”

“It’s only ten o’clock, old man,” she made a show of looking at her watch, one he had gifted her a few years back, “and I’m not ancient. And…I knew you were worried and I can’t sleep if I know you’re worried.”

“I’m not…” he stepped back inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He leaned against the door and looked at the girl with a small smile, “ain’t no use lying to you, is there?”

“Never has been,” she walked over to the couch and flopped on it, leaving ample space for Joel, “and there never will be. I can see right through you. You’re not as brooding and mysterious as people like to think.”

“Well then you should probably know exactly what’s on my mind,” he sat down with a groan next to her, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. The two of them exchanged a quick look, “I can’t not worry about either of you. You’re….you’re my girls and it’s my job to worry. She was supposed to be home this afternoon. She’s late.”

“Don’t you think we worry about you as well?” she nudged his leg and he huffed with a roll of his eyes, “we do. You know that. It’s okay to worry…even if there’s no use. They’re probably just running a little bit behind. You know how these things go. It doesn’t inherently mean that anything bad happened.”

“There is always use,” Joel insisted, “even if you don’t want to think there is anything to worry about, there’s always something. You can’t just trust anything outside of our walls.”

“Yeah…well, nothing’s ever happened to your sweetheart so I think it’ll be okay,” she insisted softly. Ellie barely managed to stifle a yawn as Joel raised an eyebrow at her before looking pointedly towards the upstairs. She rolled her head back and groaned, “fine. Fine. Maybe I’m tired. Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not gonna stay up all night looking out the door every five minutes?”

“I’ll be alright,” he promised. He knew that, logically, everything would be alright but it still didn’t help to quell the lingering worry that was hanging on at the back of his mind, “I’m about to go to bed too. You’re right; ain’t no use with worrying about something I can’t change.”

Joel had had the intention of going up to bed after Ellie, but he'd remained on the couch for a few minutes longer. Soon enough he had changed positions and was fast asleep, snoring away softly, despite his intentions of actually getting up and going to bed.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you walked into the house, the sun was starting to rise; you’d planned on being home the afternoon before but you know, life always seemed to have a different plan. You hadn’t planned on getting injured either but here you were; your shoulder was grazed but patched up the rest of your scratches weren’t anything of note. Well - to the average person they wouldn’t be anything to take a double look at but your partner was far from the average person. You were pretty sure he’d have a heart attack, or something close to it when he saw you. 

You opened the door as quietly as possible, slinking into the front room and shutting and locking the door. You’d been sure that Joel and Ellie would be fast asleep but instead you found Joel sprawled on the couch, snoring softly. 

“Oh honey,” you whispered sweetly, careful not to make too much noise to rouse either Joel or Ellie.

A smile graced your face as you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, trying to be as quiet as possible. You grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and gently draped it over Joel’s frame. He mumbled something softly but didn’t stir otherwise. You tenderly pushed some of his stray curls out of his face, and brushed your thumb over his cheek. Your original plan had been to take a quick shower and slip into bed and maybe, kinda, sorta pretend you’d been there for some time, but as soon as you’d seen him on the couch you knew that wasn’t going to be an option. 

Instead of any of your original plans, you yanked your sweater off and tossed it the pile by the door before gently pulling the blanket off Joel’s frame and sliding in next to him. You had just enough room to make it in, and as soon as he felt your body next to his, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his frame. You made a small sound of content as you settled into him, quickly feeling yourself lulled to sleep. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel hadn’t heard you come home - not entirely anyway. He had been half awake when he’d heard the door open and then felt someone drape the blanket over him. He was pretty sure that he was having some sort of dream so he hadn’t questioned it or bothered to try and fully wake up. 

When he did finally wake up, he was confused by the warm body next to him. Panic was his first instinct but then he quickly realized that it was you. He let out a small sigh of relief at the fact that you were finally home. He put two and two together and realized that what he thought was a dream was actually just you coming home. You hadn’t woken up yet so he gently maneuvered himself out from behind you and made sure you were comfortable before going to gather up your things to put them away. 

But before he managed to walk away he touched your face and almost froze. 

“What happened?” he asked sharply, as he looked over the bruising on the side of your face that led down to your shoulder. He exhaled sharply when he spied the bandage that was covering most of your shoulder. He hadn’t meant to ask so loudly, but it caused you to startle awake.

You blinked away the bleariness that was remaining in your eyes and found Joel looking at you with a worried expression on his face. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth when you realized it was him, “hey Joel.”

“Baby,” he sighed softly, crouching down in front of you, “thank god you’re home.”

“Happy to be home,” you whispered, yawning lightly, “sorry it took so long.”

“What happened? Do you have any other injuries?” Joel was ready to rip the blanket off and look you over for himself to make sure there wasn’t anything hiding from him. If anything happened to you, he wasn’t sure he’d survive. He’d been through too much in his life and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive another such heartbreak. He knew, he was well aware, that he was spiraling and was trying to control himself but it was hard. But logically, judging from how you were still quietly laying on the couch, he knew that you were more than likely okay and if you had anything more it would be superficial. 

“Just scratches and stuff,” you mumbled as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and shifted to sit up. You slowly stretched, careful not to aggravate any of your injuries further and fully aware of Joel’s eyes being locked onto you, “nothing I can’t handle. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Miller.”

“I hope I never get rid of you,” he mumbled as he took your face gently in his hands, appraising you with gentle eyes, “I’m gonna need to keep staying tough, baby.”

“I don’t plan on changing,” your words came out as more of a whisper than anything as you looked at him with sweet eyes and a saccharine smile, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he promised in return, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh, “I just worry.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” you put your hand on top of his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, “but what does worrying get you? Nothing except a few more wrinkles and worry lines. It doesn’t change what’s happened or what will happen. I know it’s easier to say than do but promise me you’ll try?”

“I’ll try,” he agreed and you gave him a knowing little smile, “I didn’t say I was going to be perfect. But for you I’ll try anything. You gonna tell me how you got that injury then, darlin’?”

“Joel…it’s fine,” you swallowed thickly, absentmindedly running your hand over the bandaging, “just know it’s all going to be alright.”

“Now what makes you think I would accept that as an answer, huh?” he said back down in front of and offered you an expectant look. You knew that he wouldn’t just accept that answer and you’d been a fool to even try that one on him. Silly girl. The only way Joel Miller would accept such an answer was when he was long cold in the ground and even then it wasn’t a guarantee, “you’re smarter than that.”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” your voice was small and gentle as Joel nodded. 

“I’d never be mad at you, baby. I just want to know…please.”

You let out a small sigh as you nodded, “well, it turns out that I was a little slow and umm, well, t-there was a clicker and the fucker was a just a little faster than me. A-and it got me so yeah….”

Joel’s mouth dropped as he processed what you said, “I-”

“W-wait, I didn’t - I wasn’t bitten,” you hastily pulled off the bandage to show him as though he needed some kind of proof. You’d never put anyone else in danger and neither would Joel, “just scratched and scraped. See - I-I’m fine.”

“Baby - baby,” he put his hands on your upper arms, doing his best to calm you down, “I’m not worried about you being bitten. I know you wouldn’t…no. But this is….it’s still not great. It looks-”

“Terrible,” you finished for him, fully aware that you would be bearing a nasty scar for some time, “I didn’t want you to panic.”

“I just want to know that you’re okay. I don’t want this to get infected - don’t laugh at that - and lead to something worse,” you hadn’t meant to laugh at his inadvertent comment but you also were tired and felt half delirious from everything that had happened, “but it looks well looked after. You’re just going to have to be careful for a while, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, “you’re not going to let me go on patrol for a while, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he agreed, causing your heart to melt at his sweet tone, “I’ll pull double duty if I have to, but you ain’t going out there. Not right now - I think everyone can understand that. And if you even try, darlin’, you won’t even make it to the stables.”

“I wouldn’t dare to try,” you were absolutely a strong independent woman…but you couldn’t deny the fact that when Joel grew so protective and in charge it did something to you, “can I ask for a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can we go to bed?” you asked softly, “I just wanna go to sleep and want you to hold me.”

“We can do that,” he slowly rose to his feet and stretched before helping you off the couch, “that sounds great to me. You’re trouble, but I love you.”

“I’m just your kind of trouble,” you offered as he huffed through a laugh, “I love you too, Miller.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Can try a fic on: Dick adopting danny? Danny runs away from amity park his parents found out he is phantom and jazz told him to run.

Ooh! I can't do a full blown fic (I barely have the motivation to finish the ones I’ve started) but I can give you a one-shot?

---

Jasmine Fenton has always been a responsible young woman. That's what happens when your mildly neglectful and emotionally oblivious parents parentified you at a young age. Them’s the breaks. Anyways, Jasmine "Jazz" Fenton had raised her baby brother from, well, a baby to the scrawny teenager he is now and is therefore in the right to call herself his parent, even if it was a weight she wished her parents were adult enough to carry. Thus, it was a protective fury like no other that threaded through her vision when Jazz saw a terrified Danny hunched over himself in a way she'd not seen for a long time.

"Danny? Is everything okay?" Jazz quickly stepped inside of her room, taking in the amount of Boo-merangs laying broken and discarded on her floor. She locked the door. This was a locked door conversation, clearly.

"They found out." Danny curled up even more. His words were muffled into the tattered denim of his jeans. Jazz's body went cold as the stark red and green splotches made themselves apparent to her eyes. "They're hunting me."

Breathe. Danny needs you. Break down later. When he’s not around to watch you shatter at how his voice broke.

"Are you injured?" Danny nods meekly. It broke her heart to see him so removed from his usual and mildly ironic lively self.

She patched him up, keeping the red at the edge of her sight at bay when she catches sight of the blaster burns and the cuts.

"Good?" Danny nodded silently back. "Okay. Here's what you're gonna do."

Jazz strode over to her closet and dug out the gotta-dip bag. "Emergency escape bag. Sam saved up enough money to put a down payment and then some on an apartment in Bludhaven through cash, so you're gonna go there."

“What? Jazz, I’m not leaving you here-!”

“Danny, if you die- shut up, you know what I mean- permanently, you’ll be leaving me forever. And that’s not happening.”

Danny winced. Jazz used Pissed Off Mom Voice and it was super effective! Danny loses 50 points of bullheadedness.

“Yeah, okay.” He said weakly, in part because of the lost argument and because he also had ten different blaster scorches.

A loud thump. The siblings jolted, eyes widening in fear. Jazz’s face quickly morphed into the singular determination of getting her parents the fuck away from her baby brother.

“Go. I got this.”

Danny swallowed before grabbing Jazz in one final, desperate hug.

“PHANTOM! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. GIVE ME MY BABY BOY BACK!”

“Mom!” Jazz shouted back, letting go of Danny and ushering him out of the window. “MOM! PHANTOM JUST FLEW TOWARDS THE TOWN CENTER!!”

“THANKS, JAZZY-PANTS!”

Once the explosive sounds of the GAV rocketed away, and Danny had disappeared into the waiting arms of Amity Park’s mystical forests, did Jasmine Fenton allow herself to sink to the ground and scream.

——

Blüdhaven wasn’t so bad. Sure, Danny’s injured to the hells and back but with the ambient ectoplasm Blud's got powering him, he's not even winded while walking home. His apartment was a bit ratty, but so was the rest of the city. At least his food’s not attacking him, and Danny learned that he’s not a bad cook. The city rats don’t even try to rob him anymore!

Really, it’s not too bad.

[Danny tried optimism. It failed critically.]

“Isn’t it too late for you to be out alone, kiddo?”

Danny whirled around, heart going straight up into the stratosphere. Which, for the halfa, was about 75 beats per minute.

“Who are you?!” Danny slid backwards, hunching in on himself to protect the injured parts of himself. He had gotten injured as Phantom, so his living form was mostly fine. It’s just being living as a scrawny 15 year old in Blüdhaven meant he had to dodge pickpockets, looters, and murderers more often than the locals did. And now, he faced his greatest evasion challenge yet, some weirdo in a sparkly blue Elvis costume. “Elvis-con was three months ago!”

The vigilante’s face, for lack of a better descriptor, smushed into a look of either great consternation or intense focus. Danny swore to himself that he wasn’t about to get offed by Bling Bling the third today. He wasn’t going down like that! Not to a the second coming of a disco ball! Sam would never let it die. Unlike how he will, if he doesn’t focus.

“I’m not impersonating Elvis!” Blue weirdo muttered.

“Of course not, you don’t have the hair.” Danny agreed, shifting back. Keep the costumed weirdo happy and Danny might get out of here safe and sound.

“Excuse you, my hair is the best-! You know what, I’m not doing this right now. I’m a whole adult.” Blue weirdo took an exaggerated breath before introducing himself, like he should have done before approaching Danny like a vaguely threatening circus performer. Danny hates the circus. “I’m the vigilante, Nightwing? You must be new to Blüdhaven.”

“How would I know if you’re a vigilante and not a villain?” Because the child dressed in brightly colored clothes and covered in blood following behind him does not inspire confidence or safety in Danny.

“Would a villain do this?!” ‘Nightwing’ flipped midair and did jazz hands. Danny crossed his arms, the movement adding much needed pressure against the ache in his chest. He levels Nightwing with an unimpressed stare.

“Yes.” Vlad did plenty of those things while trying to either adopt or murder Danny. The vigilante wilts, the ghost tearing up. and Danny tries hard not to feel guilty. He fails. Danny’s failing at things a lot lately. “I guess you get points for not trying to kidnap me, yet.”

“Really?” Nightwing grins, blinding and reflecting off of his pretty sparkly blue suit. That’s one hell of an outfit. Danny had to respect the dedication. “That’s great! So, what are you doing out here alone? Blüdhaven’s got a curfew— more like a suggestion, really, but most people follow it— and if you’re out too late, people will try to rob you!”

Personally, Danny felt like that shouldn’t have been said with a kind smile. There was something off about this guy and Danny was proven right in a few scant moments later, when a robber tries to hold Danny at gun point.

Nightwing all but flies into action, beating the absolute dogshit out of the guy. His ecrisma sticks fire up with a voltage level that raised the hairs on Danny’s neck. Was that safe for the living? Danny inched further away. “Right. You clearly have some issues to clear out on your own. I’ll… leave you to that.”

“Well, I’ll get you home safe, first.” Again, someone who sounded that nice should not be as intimidating as he is. Danny threw up his hands, hiding the wince that drew from him, and allowed the vigilante to escort him home. Even if Nightwing knows where he lives, Danny doubted he’d be able to do anything, even if the electric sticks make Danny wary.

“You live here?”

The ghost child face palms, muttering stuff about “Wing, holy shit where the fuck are your manners?!”

Honestly, Danny was feeling kind of upset too.

“Well, damn, you don’t have to be so judgmental about it. I’m trying my best, holy shit.”

——

Dick is trying his best to not lose his shit. The sparkles in his costume help him with that, reminding him there’s brightness in a world he wants to break with his bare hands. Brightness, like the kid in front of him. Danny.

The wounds were so fresh, Jason’s haunting hallucination following him so closely, that Dick had thought he was seeing another hallucination when he spied Danny from the rooftops. He was half sure he was imagining the conversation, staring at a stranger that reminded him so strongly of Jason. Clear blue eyes, black hair, and a weariness that a child shouldn’t ever have. The mugger made it clear it wasn’t fake, though, and Dick lost it.

Jason’s image overlayed with Danny’s and Dick’s big brother instinct kicked in. They kicked in, right in the mugger’s face, that is.

Great. Danny thinks he has issues. He does, of course, but… to see him wary made Dick’s heart break a little. Still…

“You live here?!” Dick shoved his foot into his mouth, shocked that Danny lived so close by, and immediately cringed at his own tone. His Jason hallucination facepalmed, telling him Alfred would kick his ass for being so thoughtless. The dirty look Danny shot him kicked his ass plenty, Dick thought, grimacing.

“Well, damn, you don’t have to be so judgmental about it. I’m trying my best, holy shit.”

“Sorry, that came out wrong.” He apologized. New plan. He was going to pull a— he grimaced again— Bruce. He was going to adopt Danny. He’ll work through the guilt later, Dick lived here and he knew how much of a shithole it was. To leave Danny alone, defenseless? Blasphemy.

Danny inched away again and Dick wilted. Why can’t he do anything right?

[moralityandmusings]

DP x DC: Faster than Life, Part 2

Part 1

"Guys? I think we've got a situation?"

Barry wasn't sure what to make of the kid in front of him. He couldn't be older than 15 and he was glowing(?), which Barry knows, for sure, is not typical. The kid is also bleeding what appears to be green blood and he is definitely injured.

It was Cisco who replied first.

"What's going on Barry? I'm getting weird readings from the park you're at. They almost look like-" "Like the speed force readings? Yeah, definitely at least part of what's going on somehow. I've got a kid, possible metahuman, he's definitely injured and he just got dumped here by a Time Wraith." Barry started inching closer to the kid.

The kid didn't acknowledge his approach. Barry did a once over as he got nearer and noticed that the kid was still having trouble breathing. His arms were wrapped around his chest and torso in a protective stance, but Barry couldn't deny the kid looked like he'd probably collapse at any moment.

"Did you say a kid?" Ah, there was Caitlin finally. "Yep. Teenager, 15 at most. He's hurt, needs medical. I'm approaching now." "Barry if he's an unknown and a meta maybe you should wait for one of us to get to you. If he's injured he could lash out." Caitlin warned with a sense of urgency. "He's a hurt kid, guys. I'm not going to sit and wait while he possibly bleeds out in front of me. Prep the med bay, I'm going to try and bring him in." Barry finally got within reaching distance of the kid, crouching down so he wasn't hovering over the trembling body. "Hey kid, you alright?" Barry quietly called out. The boy froze. "Hey, hey, hey, it's alright. My name is Barry. You look like you could use some help right about now. I've got a couple friends who are super smart and can help get you patched up. What do you say?"

Barry slowly reached a hand about halfway between the two of them. He angled himself so that his posture was still friendly and open, but he would have an easier time catching the kid if he did pass out. "I promise, I just want to help you." Barry smiled. "Let me help you, kid." There was a moment of silence between them. Barry was beginning to wonder if the kid had dissociated or lost consciousness but remained upright somehow.

He was about to speak again when the kids head suddenly shot up.

Barry's gaze was met by wide, terrified, luminescent green eyes on a face much too young for this kind of clear terror and trauma. The kid was panicking, and a panicked meta is a potentially dangerous one even with the best of intentions. "Hey, whoa kid. It's alright. I swear I just want to help-"

The kid's head snapped around, eyes seeming to take in his surroundings, and Barry watched as his panic seemed to grow and grow the more he saw around him.

"Kid? Please, you need medical attention. Let me get you help. Please?" The head of shocking white hair that seemed to almost defy gravity and those glowing green eyes raced back to Barry in an instant. Barry held his breath, hoping he'd finally broken through to the kid who was now sitting in a puddle of steadily growing green. And without warning, the kid vanished.

[uzurakis]

hi hi it’s me again!! (yes I’m the nonnie w/the stalker request + ‘my friend thinks ur cute’ request :3) I’m here to request again!! reckless!reader with jjk men (yuta n Megumi yk the deal 🙏🙏) + bonus points if reader hides their injuries too! maybe reader was on a mission; got injured and didn’t tell jjk men, or reader was playing around on a frozen lake not giving af and it begins to crack, or reader straight up doesn’t look both ways while crossing the street n act like they have 9 lives (yuta ptsd fr 😭), or anything you wanna come up with :3 do what you like!

HIDING YOUR INJURIES FROM THEM?

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. i sure know the deal my beloved meguyuta nonnie (imma call u dat instead). i decided to go with the first idea of yours, i hope that’s okay!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you returned from a challenging mission, your body aching with every step. despite the pain gnawing at you, you plastered on a smile as you entered the room where megumi was waiting. he looked up, concern etched across his features.

fushiguro megumi has the term ‘worry’ in his vocabulary. he immediately called out, "you…” without saying any ‘hey’s or ‘hi’s, you were able to cut him off with your response. 

"it went alright, just a few scrapes," you replied, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries

but megumi wasn't fooled. his brows furrowed as he approached you, his eyes scanning your form. “you’re lying,” megumi grabbed your wrist firmly as he looked straight into your eyes. "those 'scrapes' look more like serious wounds," he said, you could literally hear him edged with frustration.

you swallowed, guilt creeping into your chest. "i’m fine," you confessed, avoiding his gaze and breaking free from his grip.

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "you're injured, and you’re still trying to hide it from me? seriously?" he scolded, frustration becoming more evident.

“fine then.”

he looked away, and you felt a twinge of regret at the way he responded. but then there was a change in his attitude. as he reached for the first aid kit, his demeanor softened and his irritation vanished. silently, he whispered, "let's get you patched up," megumi’s voice was soft yet stiff.

as he tended to your wounds in silence, the tension in the room dissipated. his touch was tender, his movements careful as he bandaged your injuries. when he finished, he looked up, green pupils meeting yours.

"you make me worry, you know that?" 

ITADORI YUUJI. you stumbled through the door, trying to hide the wince as pain shot through your side. itadori was waiting, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, but then furrowing with concern as he noticed your slight limp.

"baby, you're back! how did it go?" he asked.

you forced a smile, trying to brush off the pain. "good, thank god it was just a second grade curse," you replied, hoping he wouldn't see through your facade.

your boyfriend, though, remained unconvinced. "are you sure you're alright? you’re limping.”

you hesitated, but his genuine concern melted away your resolve. you felt bad for keeping it from him, but at last you said, "well, there might be a small injury, but it's nothing serious." 

instantly, itadori's expression softened, and he wrapped you in a tight hug that made you let out a small ouch. "don't hide these things from me," his breath warm against your ear. “let me help you tend your injuries, baby. do you need shoko or just an aid kit?”

GOJO SATORU. the mission had been tougher than anticipated, but you knew gojo would worry if he saw how badly you were hurt. so you played pretend and hoped it would be enough. gojo was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his usual smirk playing on his lips. his eyes, hidden behind his pitch black glasses, seemed to twinkle as he looked up at you. "oi, you're back earlier than i expected."

you nodded, keeping your movements slow and controlled. "yeah, managed to wrap things up quicker than i thought." he tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "really? no trouble at all?"

"none," you lied, forcing a laugh. "just the usual."

gojo's smile faltered, just for a second, but you caught it. he stood up and sauntered over to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "hey, you know," he began, voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, "i can see right through you, babe. you're hurt."

"i'm okay, satoru. really."

he reached out, gently but firmly taking your arm. "don't lie to me." his fingers brushed against a particularly sore spot, and you winced despite yourself. “look?”

"satoru, i didn't want you to worry—“

he cut you off, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still without causing more pain. "hm, too late for that, baby," he said with a mix of irritation and concern. "let me take care of you."

you sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "okay, but just... be gentle, alright?"

he led you to the couch, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you sit down. "i'm always gentle," he teased, but his eyes were serious as he examined your injuries. "you should've told me right away."

YUUTA OKKOTSU. he eyed you for a moment, his smile fading slightly. "babe, you alright? you seem a bit... off."

"just tired. it's been a long day." you waved a hand dismissively, nothing to worry, you wanted to tell him that.

yet, yuuta's gaze still lingered on you, eyes narrowing slightly. "alright," he said slowly, "if you say so."

you made your way to the bathroom, trying to move naturally despite the pain. you thought you had managed to convince him, but as you stood in front of the stall, trying to remove your clothes without aggravating your injuries, the man appeared in the doorway.

"let me help you with that," he said softly, moving to stand beside you.

you blinked, surprised. "yuuta, really, i'm fine. you don't have to—”" then he gently took your hand, eyes full of concern. "please, let me help you tend your wounds, babe.”

thinking again, you hadn't said anything about being hurt, but somehow he knew. "how did you..”

your boyfriend smiled faintly. "i could tell. i know you too well." his fingers brushed lightly over a bruise that was starting to show through your shirt. "you don't have to hide it from me."

you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and resignation. "i just didn't want you to worry."

yuuta shook his head, his expression tender. "i worry more when you try to hide things from me. so don’t do it again, you hear me, babe?”

@uzurakis

[fairestwriting]

Hi! Could I request Diasomnia with a reader who got injured but is too stubborn to let them help? Idk if you do platonic works but I would prefer this was. Romantic is fine tho :) have a nice day

i do write platonic relationships yeah! i wrote this one thinking of the reader more like their close friend but if someone wants to interpret it as a crush thing i think it could work too. i hope you have a nice day too <3

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

Malleus has enough common sense to not lose his mind over little scrapes, even though he’d honestly still want you to put a bandaid over it. But having mentioned that before, and receiving your very firm response that it was fine, he got the message that you might not like being fussed over.

So he mostly doesn’t voice these thoughts. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and he does know certain things really are so minor that it won’t make that much of a difference if you try to care for it or not. Even in a human body, which is still something that’s sort of a mystery to him.

But, for that precise reason of him not fully understanding the human healing process, if anything bleeds, or looks noticeably red, he refuses to leave you alone about it. You can still see some hesitancy in his eyes, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but it’s outweighed by worry. ”What if it gets infected, though? Are you sure you don’t want to at least bandage it?” He’s heard infections can get pretty serious, even if they’re very minor at first.

If all other arguments fail to reach you, he’ll ask if you could take care of it for his sake. Because he really hates to see you hurt, so could you just consider making sure it’ll heal faster? He’ll say that even over something like a nastier than average hand burn from cooking, and so honestly too — it’ll really put your stubbornness to test, regardless of how strong it is.

𐙚 Lilia Vanrouge

His knowledge on human injuries is, frankly, a bit all over the place. It’s hard to remember what’s serious and what isn’t when he’s been around for so long, and gotten so many injuries of his own. Sometimes he unconsciously projects his own body’s recovery ability onto others.

Now, that doesn’t mean he’ll be any sort of neglectful of your injuries, though. On the contrary, he insists on personally patching you up every time he catches a glimpse of one. ”Hmm, you don’t want to bother with it? That’s okay. I’ll do it for you, just hold still.” He’s smiling as he talks, not even giving you a chance to properly say no before he’s already taking a closer look at the injury. His grip is too strong for you to pull away, even if it isn’t forceful at all…

When it comes to things like scratches, it’s more of a playful show of affection. He does know it won’t kill you, it doesn’t really need that bandaid and certainly not the little kiss he places over it after— He just wants to show that he cares for you. If you find it flustering that’s just a bonus. And yes, he will still do it even if you’re just friends, just in a more parental sort of way, unless you tell him it genuinely makes you uncomfortable.

If it’s more serious, the sort of thing that could actually cause an infection if not taken care of properly, he’s not as lighthearted. He does still joke a little about how you don’t have to worry about a thing because he’s here to care for you, but mostly to keep the mood light, especially if it looks like something he’d have to take you to the nurse to properly care for. Lilia wonders why you’re so stubborn about the whole thing, maybe it’s a matter of not wanting to seem weak? He hopes you’ll feel more at ease with him, eventually.

𐙚 Silver

To nobody’s surprise, he’ll likely be the most easygoing and knowledgeable of the bunch. There’s no species difference factor at play here, he’s very aware of what can be dangerous if left untreated and what can’t.

He does point out injuries and ask about them if he notices them, no matter how small, but it’s more of an expression of caring about you in general rather than specifically worrying that the bad scrape you got from tripping could make you deathly ill. It won’t really alarm him when you tell him it’s not a big deal, or it doesn’t even hurt. He’ll at most remind you to keep it away from dirt and then drop the subject.

Silver is very quick to recognize what could truly be potentially dangerous, though. Lilia taught him the basics of first aid when he was pretty young, and he later went on to study it in more depth as part of his training. The way he notices and points out things might even come off strange, because he’s usually so laid back in every aspect. Before you can dismiss him he’s already listing all the reasons why your “little scratch” is looking a bit off putting.

Still, he doesn’t want to pressure you, so it might create a bit of a dilemma in his mind when you keep insisting it’s fine. ”I’m being serious here, I’m not trying to annoy you. It’s not supposed to be this red. If you don’t want to see the nurse, at least let me help.” He’ll argue, and he can get pretty firm, but he’ll never cross the line into outright scolding you. You sound honestly careless to him, but he feels like there must be a reason for you to feel that way, and he doesn’t want to pry.

𐙚 Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek is about as educated in the topic as Silver, and the difference between how your body recovers from injuries versus his is pretty minimal compared to people like Malleus or Lilia. But. Well. It is Sebek. You can’t really expect him to just let it go, if he likes you enough to consider you at least a friend. He’s just not someone who can be any sort of laid back with those he cares about.

Even though he knows so much about the theory, he does actually get worried if you hurt yourself. Yes, he’s aware that just because the cut you got from peeling some fruit bled a little bit, it doesn’t mean it’s going to get infected if you don’t clean and bandage it within an hour. But every body can be so different, even within the same (or similar) species! Besides, he’s read that poor immune system function can contribute to wounds getting easily infected— And how is he supposed to tell if your immune system is doing perfectly fine, if you’re so guarded even with small injuries. You’d try to hide it if you were feeling sick too, woldn’t you?

Even though he’s the youngest in this group, he’s the one who really comes off like some kind of… nagging parent or overprotective older sibling. Hell, he might even be younger than you, but he’s still pulling bandaids and antiseptic seemingly out of nowhere and scolding you for not taking care of yourself. “You were already careless enough to get hurt, and now you want to just leave it like that?!” He balks at your insistence that it wasn’t a big deal, he didn’t have to do anything or even worry, you’ve dealt with things like that before— Yeah, he’s not listening to any of that.

He might end up overstepping your boundaries a bit in the process, but he really does mean well. It just makes him anxious to see you dismissing your own safety like that, and that makes it hard to try to understand your perspective, whatever it is. You know him well enough to be aware that all the fussing just happens because he cares, and not because he’s genuinely trying to make you feel bad for getting hurt and not wanting to accept help with patching yourself up. If it does end up upsetting you, he’ll be understanding if you bring it up later.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[daddydixonscrossbow]

You show up to Daryl’s house after getting hurt on a run

You limped your way through the gate, shooting down everyone asks about you being alright.

“Yeah I just hurt my knee, gotta go rest it.”

“Rolled my ankle, I’m fine.”

It was always something different, but never the actual reason. You made your way to Daryl’s front door, knocking on it. Dogs bark alerts from inside and a few seconds later, the door swings open.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.”

He moves aside, allowing you to come in. Dog jumps up, earning a whimper from your lips and Daryl snaps, “Dog. Down.”

You turn around and Daryl’s eyes are moving up and down your body, “Please tell me that ain’t yer’blood.”

You force a small smile, laughing slightly as you raise your shirt, “I took a tumble, dealing with some walkers..” you turn and Daryl moves closer to you, “Looks like ya did more than that. Ya ain’t bit are ya?” His hand moves your shirt up more, slow and gentle.

You shake your head, “No, I’m not. I just fell on some rocks after taking down two of them.”

“Goddamn. A’right, hold on.”

You move to sit on the couch, wincing and groaning lowly as you do. Dog comes and sits between your knees, tilting his head back indicating he wants scratches. You laugh slightly, “Hi, boy.”

“A’right.” Daryl walks around and sits down behind you, “Can ya take that off?”

You nod, sliding your bag off of your shoulder and reaching for your shirt. You gasp, pausing as you tilt your head, “Shit.”

Daryl lays his hand on your not injured side, “Here. I’ll just cut it. Y’don’t like this shirt do ya?”

“Don’t make me laugh.” You sigh, “It hurts.”

“M’serious.” He mumbles, “M’gonna cut it.”

You hold still as he pushes the blade through the thin fabric, his knives were always sharp so it cut through easy, “There.” He pushes the split fabric open, “This is gonna hurt, M’sorry.”

You take a deep breath, trying to brace yourself, but that didn’t work. You grip the back of the couch, pushing your forehead against your bicep as you breathe through the pain, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I know. I know.” He grips your shoulder with his free hand, dabbing off the blood with the cloth, “M’sorry, darlin’.” He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, “Almost done. Are ya hurt anywhere else?”

“My hip, but I think that’s just bruised.”

“Let me see.” He leans back, tossing the dirty cloth onto the coffee table. He helps you stand up and you undo your belt and jeans, pushing them down slightly, “How bad is it?”

“It ain’t good.” He shakes his head, “But jus’as y’said. It’s bruised.” He helps you sit back down, “I need t’clean that one more time, then I’ll bandage it up.”

You nod, “Go for it.” You grip the back of the couch, your other hand gripping your knee. The stinging pain returns and you let out a whine, arching your back away from him, “Sorry. Sorry.”

“I know it hurts. S’okay.” He holds your shoulder with his hand, “M’gonna patch ya up now.” He grabs gauze and the roll of medical tape, ripping some off with his teeth, “I’ll go get ya a shirt, you can sleep here t’night. Wanna make sure yer’good.”

You nod, biting your lip as he gently rubs his fingers over the tape, “A’right. Good?”

“I think so.” You nod, smiling as Dog comes back over.

“Be right back.” Daryl gets up and makes his way upstairs. You pat the couch for dog to come up and he jumps up, resting his head in your lap. Your fingers gently drag over his fur.

Daryl comes back down and stops when he sees the scene in front of him, “That dog loves you.”

“You seem jealous.” You tease and Daryl scoffs, “Nah, I ain’t jealous over no dog.” Dog perks his head up and looks at Daryl. You laugh, pointing at the animal, “He thinks different.”

“Fine, you can sleep down here with him then.”

“Now wait a minute.” You hold a finger up and Daryl tosses the shirt at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He smirks and reaches down to scratch Dog’s head. You go to stand up and Daryl moves around, helping you, “easy.”

“I’m good.” You nod, “Can you cut this the rest of the way, please?”

He nods, pulling out his knife. He grips the fabric and slices through it, “I’ll.. be upstairs.” He turns walking towards the steps, whistling, “Dog. Come on.”

You smirk as dog jumps down, running up the steps.

You pull the fabric of your shirt down, dropping it to the floor by your bag. You slip on Daryl’s shirt and kick off your shoes as you undo your jeans. They join the pile of your stuff and you walk over to the kitchen, washing up quick before making your way upstairs.

You walk into Daryl’s room, smirking as you see him lying there shirtless in bed, dog’s head resting on his chest, “Hey. Buddy. Make room.” Dog perks up, moving to the end of the bed and you crawl into bed, laying next to Daryl.

“C’mere boy.” You make a kissing sound with your lips and dog comes and lays next to you, Daryl on your other side.

“You and that damn Dog.” Daryl grumbles with a laugh, “I think you like him more than ya like me.”

“Not possible. He couldn’t have helped me like you did tonight, speaking of.” You turn your head, “Thank you for that, by the way.” He nods, “Not a problem.” He leans in pressing a kiss to your head, “just means ya owe me one.”

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

+18 mdni! bucky patches reader up after he gets hurt, it all goes south as reader accidentally gets turned on when bucky checks on his wounds.

cw: dom!slightly mean!bucky, sub!m!reader, slight manhandling, anal sex, overstimulation (like, 6 times), dumbification?, they almost get caught by sam (they probably already did), reader calls bucky 'sir', slightly shy reader?

word count: >3.7k

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

you got home slightly earlier than bucky today. you were doing some gardening, before you got hit with some sort of magic. you clutched your side and whimpered in pain as you stumbled back home. after what felt like ages, bucky finally got home.

“buck.. help..” you were trembling and losing focus. you tried your best to stay awake as you were losing consciousness from the sheer pain you’ve been fighting. the bandage that you very badly wrapped around your waist was stained with blood, as were your hands.

“what happened? who did this to you?” bucky kneeled in front of you, removing your hand to take a closer look at the wounds.

“fuck, please, just.. just patch me up, ugh, i’ll be fine.” you winced when he peeled the bandage off, letting the cool air come in contact with your wound. “fuck.” you were fighting back tears at this point.

“hold still, this’ll hurt just a bit.” he pulled out a first aid kid from the drawer next to you, and began to clean you up. “you’re lucky it’s not too deep.” he tried his best to be gentle, but he knew it would still hurt. you threw your head back, breathing shakily as bucky cleaned your wound, there were red, glowy fragments stuck to them. perhaps i got struck by some otherworldly force? chaos magic? you groaned, fingers digging into your thighs to ground yourself.

“easy, easy..” he spoke, trying to calm you down. “i’ll get these out as quick as i can.” he tried as carefully as he could, to pull the fragments, bit by bit, out of your wound. “almost done.”

“i can’t take.. uh.. think i’m gonna pass out, buck..” you were fighting to stay conscious, the fragments contained some source of power that weakened you.

“shh, shh, stay with me, just for a bit more okay?” he had finished picking out the fragments, and is now bandaging you. “you’re gonna be okay, trust me.”

“everything hurts, buck.. think they cursed me.” you tried to joke and laugh but you were cut off by the sharp pain in your side.

“try to not move as much. let’s get you to a bed so that you can rest, yeah?” bucky gently lifted you up, putting you softly on your bed as he prepared an anaesthetic shot to ease your pain. you stared at him as he gave you the shot. within a few seconds, euphoria spread throughout your body, you were giggly and high from the painkillers now.

“how are you feeling now?” he sat down next to you, on the bed, tucking you in. “try to get some sleep, it’ll heal faster if you do.”

“i feel great..” you were so tired and so high.

“i’m so grateful, you know..? to have you, buck.. won’t understand why people hate you, you’re amazing..” you spoke, smiling softly at him.

“don’t worry about that, just rest and get better, will you?” he said softly, sweeping away a few stray hairs on your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

“i want you to sleep here..” you pulled the covers open, scooting over to give you some space. “please?” you hesitated, before laying down next to me.

“alright, but only if you promise to go to sleep.” you smiled, turning over to kiss his cheek, before plopping back down on the bed.

-next morning-

you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a dull pain on your side.

“ugh..” you moved your arm, only to be met with the cool touch of metal. you turned to your side, only to be met with bucky, still sleeping peacefully next to you. god, he looked absolutely gorgeous.

“buck?- wait, fuck, i’m so sorry, what.. what did i do..?” bucky sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“it’s fine, you were injured, and needed someone to take care of you, that’s all.” he turned towards you. “how are you feeling now?”

“injured? what are you talking about- ow!” you tried to sit up, not knowing that you were injured. you were met with a sharp pain in your side. you whimpered in pain and flopped back down onto the plush bed. “i.. i see that now.. just.. give me a second..”

“take it easy, will you?” bucky pushed you back down onto the bed, lifting your shirt up. “let me check your bandages.” he pressed your legs apart gently, then kneeled in between them. he focused on checking your wounds, not thinking too much about the compromising position you were in right now. you, however, were hyper-focused on the position you were in. you blushed like crazy, but you kept quiet, not daring to breathe.

“looks like it’s healing nicely.” he spoke, not seeming to notice your reaction.

“huh- oh, yeah, good..” you tried to play it off, praying that you wouldn’t get hard right now. bucky closed your legs, setting them down straight, before finally noticing your reaction.

“are you okay..? you seem a little flushed.. should i turn the ac back on?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“n-nothing!” fuck, you were hard now. you shuffled to hide it. “i’m okay, buck, thank you so much for.. for taking care of me.” you spoke, except you were very obviously avoiding his gaze.

“it’s not problem, but you don’t seem fine..” he reached out towards you and gently turned your face towards him. “tell me what’s wrong?.. you.. you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i don’t wanna be pushy.” you stared at him wide eyed, seemingly speechless.

“uh..” you were frozen in place. bucky stared you up and down, before his eyes landed on your erection. you were so focused on avoiding his gaze that you didn’t even realise that he was staring. after a while, you finally realised, and you freaked out. “wait- it.. it isn’t what it looks like i swear!”

“really? because it looks like you’re enjoying this.” he smirked, leaning closer. “it’s not a bad thing, don’t worry.”

“i.. i can assure you i’m not.” you furrowed your brows, trying your best to deny it.

“i’m not dumb, you know. i can see it in your eyes.” he scooted closer towards you, his breath hot against your neck. “let me help you with that.”

“mm..” you whimpered when bucky kissed your neck. “b- buck..” you grabbed his hair with your hand.

“i’ll make you feel better..” he moaned softly at the tug on his hair, reaching forward to touch your erection. “i just need you to trust me.”

“mmh..” you grabbed his hand out of instinct, but loosened your grip.

“it’s okay, you can trust me.” bucky pulled your pants down just enough for your erection to spring out. “i’ll make the pain go away.” he stroked your cock, while kissing you sweetly.

“you.. why are you so good at this.. pervert.”

“i just want to please you, is it working?” he smiled at you.

“is that even a question?” you scoffed in disbelief at his stupid question. he clearly knew the answer already, but he just wanted to mess with you.

“good.” he moved his hand faster now, teasing your sensitive tip.

“oh fuck-? uugh.. mmhmm..” you were reduced to a whimpering mess the moment he teased your tip, completely unable to form answers to your questions.

“do you want me to stop? or do you want more?” he asked, slowing down his movements, so that you could answer him.

“please..” your mind was hazy, eyes unfocused as you tried your best to nod. “hurry, buck”

“like.. this?” he picked up the pace, smirking at your reaction.

“aahh..” you were too far gone to even process bucky’s words. “buck.. you’re.. mmh.. so good..” you mewled when he leaned in to bite your earlobe playfully.

“i’m glad you think so.” he moved his hand impossibly faster, bringing you closer to the edge. “are you gonna cum for me?”

“yes- yes buck, yes” you whimpered, gripping onto the bed sheets like your life depended on it. it took you a few moments, before you were about to cum.

“go on.” he leaned in and kissed you deeply as you came, swallowing your moans.

“a-aah.. mmhm..” your moans were cut off by bucky kissing you. your entire body shuddered as you came.

“you’re so cute when you’re sensitive like that. feel better now?”

“still hurts, when.. i tense my body.” you muttered “continue..? wanna feel you.”

“sure thing, just relax and enjoy it, yeah?” he positioned himself in between your legs.

“god, this position was what got me into this in the first place.” you mumbled, embarrassed at the effect you had on me.

“well, maybe it’s time to try something different.” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss your inner thighs. “anything you want.”

“fuck, you can’t just do that and expect me to be normal..” you admitted shyly, making him smile. “i don’t think i can.. today..” bucky tilted his head in confusion. “i mean.. i don’t think that i can take you today. like, i’m not in a good condition” you spoke, absolutely flustered. “just touch me, please, buck?”

“of course, anything you want.” he nodded, reaching out to stroke your cock again. “just tell me how you like it.”

“just.. ugh, fuck, you’re doing good already..” you were a mess the moment he touched your cock. you were slowly getting more and more overstimulated, but you didn’t care, not when it felt so good.

“you’re so easy to please”

“nnh.. don’t tease..” you stuttered. “oh- oh fuck, you’re so good, mmh” the praise made bucky’s heart flutter, stopping for a while to clear his throat. it was obvious that he liked it, but he didn’t hide it well enough. “you like being praised.. mmh.. don’t you, buck..? aah..”

“i.. maybe a little? but only if it’s from you.” he admitted, face flushing red immediately.

“fuck, ugh, that’s.. so cute, buck.. mmh, keep going..” you were trying to stay focused, so that you could continue teasing bucky, but you couldn’t. not when you had this talented son of a bitch’s hand on your cock.

“you’re close again, aren’t you?” he grinned, picking up the pace once more. “want me to make you cum again?”

“yes, please- please, please..” you had started to ramble, and it was honestly so entertaining.

“say my name, then.” he stopped abruptly, making you whimper in protest.

“no- why’d you stop..”

“say it, and i’ll make you cum.”

“please buck?” his only response was a shake of his head.

“try again” bucky smirked, teasingly running his fingers all over your cock. “say my name, and i’ll give you what you want.”

“uuh.. j- james, please..?” you were racking your brain for the right answers, but still, none of them were correct.

“come on, you know what i want to hear.” he leaned in closer to you.

“..sir, please.” you said, shyly. your orgasm was fading as you tried your best to keep yourself on edge.

“good boy.” he finally continued his stroking. “now, you can cum for me.”

“ugh, fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck..” bucky changed his plans halfway through, he wanted to edge you now. “please, f- fuck, sir, just wanna cum..” he took this as a chance to flip you over on your stomach to finger you. your body was tense as you were caught off guard, but slowly, you relaxed. as he slowly opened you up, he couldn’t help but embarrass you a little.

“look at you, taking my fingers so well.” he teased, pushing a third finger in. “so, so good.”

“aah- yeah.. mmf..” he decided to embarrass you more, making you clench around his fingers.

“you like being called a good boy?” your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he repeatedly pressed against your prostate.

“aah.. oh- oh fuck..” you were so fucked out you couldn’t even answer.

“answer me, will you? or i’ll stop.” he slapped your ass lightly, making you yelp.

“mm- y- yes, sir.” you blurted out any answer that you could come up with.

“attaboy.” bucky pulled out his fingers just to replace them with his cock. “take my cock”

“oh fuck.. i thought we- .. i can’t.. injured..” you felt so euphoric around his cock you couldn’t help but clench a few times.

“don’t worry about that right now, just enjoy it.” he grunted, picking up the pace. “feel how good it is? does my cock feel good?”

“i- aah.. b- buck..” you were getting the meanest backshots of your life, the air getting knocked out your lungs with each thrust you took.

“gonna cum inside you.. want that?”

“mhm.. yes.. yes please, sir..” you nodded repeatedly into the drool-soaked pillow, fingers gripping onto it so tightly you’d think they’d tear holes through the fabric.

“you feel so good.” bucky groaned, thrusting harder. “gonna fill you up.”

“oh- aah.. gonna.. gonna cum..” your eyes rolled back as you came. your body spasmed and writhed but nothing came out. you’ve shot blanks for the first time in your life.

“so, so good for me.” he pulled out, holding you in place so that his cum wouldn’t flow out of you. “look at you, all fucked out.”

“b- buck.. uugh..” he sunk back into you, fucking you gently into overstimulation. all he wanted was to see you cry. “we’re gonna.. get caught by the other.. mmh.. you know..?”

“who cares if we get caught?” bucky grinned, thrusting deeper. “let them see how good you are for me.”

“fuck.. sir, too much.. please..” you helplessly kicked against the sheets, trying to escape.

“just a bit more..” he kissed your shoulder. “you can take it.”

“i- i can’t.” you whimpered in protest, accidentally yelping when he delivered an extra harsh thrust.

“yes you can, come on.” he slowed down slightly, not fully stopping. “be a good boy for me, will you?”

“mmm.. okay.. yeah.. haah.. wanna be good..” you were so fucked out of your mind, it was honestly impressive that you could still respond.

“that’s it.” bucky picked up the pace once more, hitting your prostate with each thrust. “gonna make you cum again, you can take it right?”

“oh.. b- buck..” tears rolled down your cheeks from sheer overstimulation, you let out hiccups in an attempt to swallow the moans.

“look at you, crying like a little slut. but you love it, don’t you?”

“fuck- please.. i- i can’t..” you were sobbing now, reaching back to push bucky’s hands away from your hips. “buck- please.. s- stop.. mmh!..”

“stop? why would i stop when you’re enjoying it so much?” he chuckled, continuing to pound into you. “go ahead, cry all you want.” you unconsciously clenched around him, feeding his ego even more.

“can’t get enough, can you?” you let out a sharp cry, before cumming again, shooting blanks. you were so fucked, the pleasure made your body shudder as you became unresponsive

“there’s my good boy, all fucked out, and still so pretty.” bucky pulled out, admiring your spent form. you let out a tired whimper, your body at its absolute limit. suddenly, a knock was heard, but your mind was too hazy to even realise it. he threw the covers over you, and threw on your clothes to answer the door. turns out it was sam, and he has probably heard everything.

“sam..?” you spoke absentmindedly, to which sam replied with louder knocking. perhaps sam knew that we’ve been fucking? bucky went out to chat with him for a moment, before sam left the room.

“shit, that was so close.” bucky closed the door and turned back to you. “we’ve gotta be more careful next time. you think he knows?”

“maybe next time, don’t fuck my brains out and make me cum like 5 times.” you joked bluntly, making him chuckle.

“hey, you enjoyed it.” he smirked, sitting on the bed. “and i can’t help it if you’re so irresistible.”

“freaky.” you joked, and he leaned down and kissed you.

“you love it.” he reached down to stroke you once more. “and.. you’re getting hard again.”

“i- i’m not! your eyesight is fucked.” you denied it, but your body betrayed you. “oh.. oh fuck..” you gripped bucky’s wrist as hard as you could. “i.. i can’t anymore.

“sure you can.” he bit your earlobe. “let’s make it six times.”

“there’s.. aah.. nothing left..” you whimpered. “no..” you were slipping again, the only thing on your mind was how good it felt,

“come om, one more time, for me?” he leaned in, and kissed your neck, while his hand was still working on your cock. “you can do it.”

“fuck.. mmh” tears rolled down your cheeks once more as you struggled to process the pleasure.

“cry all you want, it’s just gonna make it harder for yourself. his thumb teased your tip. “one more, just one last one, okay?” you nodded, your entire body going limp as you came dry once more.

“good boy, you taste so good.”

“uuh.. l- let me..” you pushed his head away from your neck,

“let you what?” he smirked, backing away from you. “rest? or go for round seven?”

“i.. i need to rest..” you laid on the bed, your chest heaved as your cock twitched from oversensitivity.

[wordsinhaled]

thinking of a scenario where when charles was little, his mum used to take care of his injuries and do the kissing-it-better thing, until he got older and his dad got wise to that and she couldn’t anymore. but it’s just something tiny that charles associates with comfort.

and so the first time, early on in the agency, that edwin gets badly hurt on a case and charles is patching him up, he leans in and presses a little kiss to the mostly-bandaged spot. it’s just the whole case gave him a scare, because he hadn’t seen edwin hurt bad before, and he’s just getting used to the fact that edwin’s his person, his to keep safe and he didn’t manage that this time, and in his distress he doesn’t even think twice.

edwin stiffens, and charles realizes he just kissed his best mate’s arm, and that’s not the sort of thing you do, is it, and maybe that’s really the sort of thing that’s going to get him knocked in the jaw. only edwin is just looking at him with curiosity, and edwin isn’t the sort of bloke who knocks people in the jaw but he is the type who could leave, could leave charles behind and... and now charles’s face is burning.

“sorry,” he chokes out, finishing the bandage hurriedly. “um, it’s just—something my mum used to do, y’know, kissing it better. when… um. when i’d get hurt as a kid, yeah? used to make me feel proper better, more than the plasters and all that. i know it’s silly, i didn’t think—”

“i did not mind it,” says edwin—who had never had any injury of his kissed better in his short life, and certainly not any of the damage he sustained over 73 years in hell.

“oh,” says charles. “that’s good, then.”

the next time edwin’s hurt it’s a significantly smaller injury, a really minor iron burn that’s already starting to look better even as charles applies the salve. he bandages it up anyway, though. but he’s surprised when edwin stays where he is once charles is done, still expectantly holding out his injured hand, not pulling away, as he usually does. and then he realizes that edwin is waiting for charles to kiss it better. and so he does—hesitant the whole time, in case he read edwin all wrong, up until edwin finally pulls his hand back seeming satisfied somehow, like charles has fulfilled some unspoken half of a bargain.

and that was twenty-some years ago. by now it’s just ingrained that every time charles tends to an injury of edwin’s, even one as minor as a paper cut from a page in edwin’s notebook, he kisses it better. edwin won’t move away until he does.

after edwin’s confession, things change. charles starts to notice that he feels a bit fluttery, the first time after hell that he leans in to press his lips to edwin’s scraped shoulder through a layer of bandage and the fabric of his shirt. and he tries to think nothing of it, only that then his mouth doesn’t connect with anything; because edwin has moved away, moved out of his reach, neatly risen out of the way of charles’s kiss so that he hovers, lips parted against empty air, feeling off-kilter and confused, something like hurt churning through him.

edwin had said he wanted nothing to change between them, and here edwin goes changing things himself. of course that hurts. but why does it hurt so much? and what was that fluttery feeling? and why can’t charles stop thinking about it?

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Dante Patching You Up After A Tough Mission

Dante X FemReader

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, Injury, flirting, steam, suggestive themes, violence, stitching, angst, fluff, some nudity

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 2: here

(A/N:) What was supposed to be a short imagine suddenly exploded into this whopper of a story. I had a little too much fun but I enjoy hurt/comfort so much. And I adore Dante so yeah I had a little too much fun. I went ahead and made this mature as my inner vampire came out. So enjoy the chaos that is being unleashed from my mind! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante held you tightly, blood dripping down your fingers to drip on the ground. The gash in your shoulder burned and every little jostle had you hissing in pain. The mission had been tough, tougher than you were expecting. But to come out alive was a huge victory. Dante kept taking quick glances at you as he worried about the injuries. You had been sent flying by a larger demon. Dante knew he heard a loud crack when you hit the wall, but you refused to let yourself be pampered too much. You argued about Dante carrying you so now he was helping you by his arm around your waist and your arm over his shoulder while he helped you walk.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Dante lugged you harder towards the van.

"No hospitals," you gritted your teeth, willing your feet to keep moving forward.

"You're bleeding out babe," Dante argued, carrying you inside the door.

"I haven't lost that much blood."

"You're bleeding more than the demon I just made into a pin cushion," he retorted. "You're going. I'm sure something else is busted inside you too."

"Ribs," you replied. "They're cracked. They won't do anything for cracked ribs Dante."

"We can at least get you a blood transfusion. I can't lose you sweetheart."

"You're not going to lose me Dante. You're going to stitch me and I'm going to heal. Demon Hunter's promise okay."

Dante cursed but started the van anyway and respected your wishes, even though he didn't like them or agree. Your head rolled against the van couch's cushion and Dante was getting worried. A small puddle of blood grew at your feet and he could feel panic nipping at his heels. The van had a med kit, not as extensive as a hospital but good enough to take care of all sorts of wounds his human team members needed cared for. He called your name and you responded with a hum.

You were still conscious so that was good but he needed to get your flayed open shoulder taken care of soon or you wouldn't be much longer. A motel sign, sun bleached and worn rose in the distance and while he rather get you back to the shop, this would have to do. Pulling over Dante parked the van in the pot holed parking lot of a two story motel. The yellow walls chipping and the door numbers falling off, but it would have to do. He grabbed a wad of cash out of the stash that he kept in the glove compartment and kissed your forehead as he passed by.

"I'll be right back just stay with me," he whispered.

"I ain't going anywhere Dante," you winced.

"Still don't want to go to the hospital?"

"No I don't! How do you explain to the nurses that my injures were caused by being back handed by a flying demon arm," you snorted before groaning in pain.

"They'll just think you're drunk or tweaking out on drugs," he chuckled.

"Oh I wish I was drunk right now," you moaned.

"Just hang on I'll get you taken care of," he kissed you again and left out the side door.

With a room key in hand, Dante scooped you up despite your protest and pained yelps and carried you into the dusty room he rented for a couple nights. He checked the bed carefully and laid you on the side with the less stains. Blood trickled from your lips and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"I'm going to have to remove your shirt to check your shoulder," Dante cleared off the bedside table to set the van's medical kit close by.

"Take me to dinner first before you start stripping me," you hissed.

"Don't worry," Dante scrounged around for a cup to put warm water in and grabbed several motel towels and washcloths, "you can keep your pants on. It's less fun that way but I'll still show you a good time."

"Oh thank you," you rolled your eyes and fought the laugh bubbling up.

"Actually forget moving you to get your shirt off I'm going to have to cut it off you." Dante didn't want to move you. The less he did the better it would be on your cracked ribs.

"You barbarian," you teased. "This is the only one I have though. The last thing I want is to get arrested for public indecency. You're indecent enough for both of us."

Dante chuckled already ripping your shirt carefully so he wouldn't jostle you, "You can wear mine."

"Gross yours is dirty too and covered in demon guts," you made a face. Dante finished getting your shirt out of the way leaving you in your bra. You felt a little bit embarrassed but you were the one who decided you didn't want to go to the hospital and Dante wouldn't hold anything against you. Despite acting like a womanizer at times with his inappropriate jokes, he was more respectable towards you and other women than anyone who didn't know him realized.

"I carry extra clean ones. And don't worry you're still a beauty to me blood and all."

"That's not what I'm worried about," you rolled your eyes.

"I'm looking respectfully," Dante laughed. "My mind is on pure thoughts."

"You have no pure thoughts Dante."

"True."

"Sew me up already before I decide decking you will be worth the pain," you snarled.

"Mmm I like a feisty woman," he waggled his brows while stroking your cheek.

"Dante!"

"Okay fine," he huffed.

"I'm still bleeding."

"I'll remedy that."

"Hurry up!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Dante filled up two coffee mugs with warm water and squirted a little bit of soap from the complimentary bottle of hand soap into one. He used the soap water on one of the rags to wipe away as much blood from your skin and the edge of the wound. You hissed and snarled at his touch but you didn't move much. He knew that you knew the stitching was going to hurt worse. He would offer you a drink or two if he had a bottle but he hadn't bought booze in a long time. Pizza was his downfall now but he would be there for you. Taking his time and being as gentle as possible. Using the regular warm water he cleaned the few suds away and then used a towel to wipe your skin dry. He loves you so much and he can't bear to see the bruises already blossoming on your sides and a few other places you were hit. His blood boiled in anger at the thought of the rogue demon doing this to you. His inner devil snarling, making his hands tremble.

You noticed Dante struggling and he quietly growled in his throat. You reached out clasping his wrist and stabilizing his shaking hand. His blue gaze catching yours, you nodded giving him a gentle squeeze as a reminder.

"I'm okay," you soothed. "I'm right here Dante. I'm not going to leave you any time soon."

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who is supposed to be soothing you," he retorted but visibly relaxed. His inner devil quieting down immediately at your voice. He went back to cleaning you up as best as he could.

"Then get your head out of your butt and focus on getting me closed up. I don't like open wounds on sheets I don't know what the stains are from."

"I have a pretty good idea," his side eye made you want to gouge out his eyes.

"For the love of! Dante please shut up," you whined in exasperation.

Dante finished cleaning up as much blood as possible then he focused on finding the stitch kit with some antiseptic, he prepped himself to listen to more of your breathless complaints. Threading the needle and grabbing the holder, Dante pinched your skin together. You jerked at the pain of him holding the tear of your skin together but then cried out when he poked the needle through your skin.

"Oh what I wouldn't give to have your healing ability," you sobbed.

"I'd give it to you baby in a heartbeat if I could," Dante choked, quickly finishing the first stitch before going for the other one. Pinch, poke, tie, cut. Pinch, poke, tie, cut. He moved quickly and effortlessly as tears streaked your cheeks. Then in mere moments Dante finished the last stitch and wiped away the stray blood droplets that leaked while he had worked. You eased back, shaking from the adrenaline shooting through your body. And while Dante felt guilty for putting you through so much already there was more to be done. With sorrowful eyes and gave you his next task.

"I'm sorry babe but I'm going to have to sit you up so I can bandage you as best as I can." Dante dreaded this moment. But the stitches weren't enough protection and he wanted to get your ribs wrapped as well. Any sort of relief he could give you he wanted to.

"I'm a big girl I can take it," you gritted your teeth. Willing yourself not to scream. You didn't want the other motel patrons to call the cops due to the noises you were making.

"That's my girl," he smoothed your hair back before kissing the top of your hair.

With gentle movement he raised you up, making you catch your scream but still whines and whimpers pushing past your lips. Dante's heart clenched before shattering at every sound that escaped your mouth. You rested your cheek against Dante's clothed abdomen. Trying to catch your breath but not breathe too deeply due to your ribs. His warm skin heated your cheek you clung to his coat as he widened his stance to fit your legs between his.

"I got you sweetheart just rest," Dante cooed, reaching for a padded gauze and bandage wrap and tape. You nodded, still trying to stop the room from spinning from the pain. He wrapped your ribs first, wanting to get the most painful out of the way since you were still reeling from him lifting you into a sitting position. You focused on the nearness of Dante, his arms moving carefully and surely as he encircled you. His scent and presence did more than anything. You sucked in a breath as he taped the bandage secure and moved towards your shoulder. His fingers brushed your skin, sending a jolt of electricity and before Dante could pull away, you grabbed his hand. Still clinging to his coat and your head still pressed to his abdomen, you placed the back of his hand against your cheek.

"Thank you," you whispered, exhaustion finally taking a hold.

"Always," Dante replied with conviction. He eased you back down carefully, the wraps helping your ribs from jostling more than usual. He fished some pain killers from the kit and took a bottle of water from the counter. You swallowed them and shut your eyes.

"Rest," Dante ordered and you didn't argue.

Once he knew that you wouldn't need him, Dante went back to the van grabbing himself a change of clothes and a set of his boxers and shirt for you later. You couldn't shower just yet with all your bandages but he'd help you get clean as much as possible when you were ready. Right now rest was what you needed most, but Dante wanted to get clean. Your blood had dried to his skin and it was mixed with the devil's blood. He couldn't stand the scent of you mingled with the filth of evil.

Checking on you again, Dante started the shower. The rusty showerhead didn't have much pressure but he didn't complain. Tossing his dirty clothes to the floor he entered the hot water spray and watched the red stain the bottom of the tub and go down the drain. His forehead pressed against the wall and he shuddered. The agony of the day catching up as the fear of almost losing you gripped him. He choked back his tears, slamming his fist in the plastic shower wall. He wanted to scream but he made due with cursing under his breath. Taking a deep breath, Dante steadied himself and focused on cleaning up.

Shutting off the water and toweling himself off with the remaining towel. Dante dressed in a clean pair of boxers and a shirt, but he laid the pants on one of the motel chairs. He wanted to lay by your side and rest for a moment. He needed to be close to you for awhile. He would focus on getting more supplies in the morning. His focus right now was you and keeping himself calm before he could lose it any more than he already had in the shower. He shook his head trying to dry his hair as much as possible before he laid next to you on the bed. It was smaller than the one he had back home but it was perfect to him. Your body was close to his and he took your hand threading your fingers together while he pressed as close as he thought safe to. You mumbled in your sleep, but he was happy that you were in a deep sleep. Rest would help you heal. He never wanted to admit how fast you wormed your way into his heart. But the thought of losing you ripped him to shreds. He lost his dad, mom, and pretty much his brother in this life. Surely it wouldn't take you too. A man could only lose so much. He breathed you in deeply, calming himself, and your sleepy breathing lulling him to sleep. You were the last thing he saw before he drifted off to sleep and he looked forward to you being the first thing he saw when he woke up.

[luv-lock]

How would each variant of mark be like with their respective alien!reader? The thought that maybe some of the variants would be worse than alien!reader is interesting to think about

Oh, this is a fun one. Each Mark variant has a completely different relationship with their respective Y/N, and honestly, some of them are way worse than her. It’s interesting to see how they interact because the power balance, affection, and overall dynamic shift so much depending on which Mark we’re talking about.

Normal Mark – The Best Version

This is the healthiest version of them. She’s basically an overprotective housewife. She doesn’t want to rule, she doesn’t want to commit genocide, she doesn’t want to be a god—she just wants to protect her husband and kids. That’s it. She follows Mark everywhere, not because she’s clingy, but because she refuses to let anything happen to him, especially when he’s on Viltrum.

She leaves the kids with Debbie, not just for safety but because she trusts her to raise them well and to protect her in return. She sees Debbie as family and wants her to be safe just as much as Mark.

Their relationship is strong. When Mark is exhausted or injured, she’s the one patching him up, holding him, making sure he survives. She’s probably the only one who can relax him when he’s overwhelmed. It’s normal, stable, and honestly the best-case scenario.

Sinister Mark – The Most Messed-Up Pair

This one is insane. She was imprisoned for millions of years before Mark found her, and by then, she was basically feral. Mark knew exactly what she was from the moment he saw her, and instead of trying to fix her, he accepted it. Because he’s just as bad.

They use each other. It’s toxic, but it works. They’re both unstable, both completely off the rails, and somehow, it makes them perfect for each other. The weirdest part? It’s cute in its own horrifying way. They just get each other. Their love language? Cannibalism. They kill together, they eat together, and yeah, she’s always pregnant.

Also, unlike normal Mark, who just holds her or sits her on his lap, Sinister Mark always carries her on his shoulder. That’s basically her throne. She barely ever touches the ground. And when she does? It’s usually because she’s about to massacre someone.

They’re insane, but they’re insane together.

Viltrumite Mark – The Fragile Love

This one is more tragic. His version of her isn’t weak, but she’s sick. She’s constantly tired, barely has the energy to move, but she gives birth to strong children. She’s valuable to him, not just as the mother of his kids, but as his. And because she’s so fragile, he keeps her locked away, completely protected from the outside world.

Mark is terrifying to everyone else, but with her? He’s gentle. He handles her like she’s glass, always speaking softly, always making sure she’s comfortable. She spends most of her time asleep, and when she is awake, he’s there, holding her.

She’s not afraid of him, but she knows there’s no leaving. Not that she’d even try—she’s too exhausted for that. He makes sure she’s safe, comfortable, and untouched by the horrors outside, but at the cost of her freedom. It’s soft in a way, but also completely controlled by him.

Mohawk Mark – The Most Selfish Pair

This one is a total mess. She’s the most childish, most self-centered version of them all. She doesn’t care about their kids, she doesn’t care about Mark’s ambitions—she just wants to enjoy herself. She’s greedy, she wants to be worshiped, and she wants power.

Mark is the one actually doing the work—leading, fighting, handling things—but she doesn’t care. As long as she gets what she wants, he can do whatever. Their relationship is mostly built on sex. She’s hedonistic and just wants to live in excess, indulging in everything she can.

They’re not exactly partners in the traditional sense. She’s more like a goddess, and Mark is the one making sure she stays satisfied. It’s not deep, it’s not meaningful, but it’s exactly what she wants.

Each version is so different, but they all fit in their own ways. Some are soft, some are twisted, some are just completely unhinged, but they all have their own weird logic that makes their relationship work.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Hey, thanks for patching me up. I feel good as new.

Jamil: What did you do?

MC: ...

MC: I entered the enemy's den. That's that.

Jamil: What? Does that mean—

MC: No, I haven't killed anyone, nor do I have the right to. But tampering with their memories while defending myself took a lot out of me.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Couldn't you have asked someone for help?

MC: What for? I handled it just fine. Besides, if I had died there, I had already prepared countermeasures to—

Jamil: *looks really upset*

MC: ...

MC: What's with you?

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Even if I tell you, you won't understand because you're an insensitive idiot.

MC: Huh?

Jamil: Get out. I still have to prepare for my duties.

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* I'll see you later then.

Jamil: *watches as they leave the room*

Jamil: ...

Jamil: That was weird. *talking about his reaction earlier*

MC: I tweaked their brains, so don't be confused if they start acting nice at the breakfast table.

Kalim's dad: ...

Kalim's dad: Are you alright?

MC: Yes. Jamil treated me last night.

Kalim's dad: ...

Kalim's dad: Oh?

MC: ...

MC: What?

Kalim's dad: ...

Kalim's dad: *smiles* I didn't expect that you would go to Jamil first.

MC: *raised an eyebrow*

Kalim's dad: *chuckles, knowing they don't understand what he's implying*

Kalim's dad: Anyway, Kalim wants to spend time with you.

MC: Okay. Where is he?

Kalim's dad: In the surveillance room.

Kalim: *pouting*

MC: ...

MC: What?

Kalim: *gives them a worried frown* Do you think I didn't know you went home injured last night?

MC: That's because you checked the footage—

Kalim: Why do you like to put yourself in danger?!

MC: ...

MC: Look who's talking. You're the one here who causes all the shenanigans.

Kalim: ...

MC: ...

MC: *smiles* Yeah, that just makes us siblings.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: *beams* *then pouts* But still!

MC: Yeah, yeah. I'll be careful next time.