#and yeah i’m just whining and yes i know i need some ibuprofen and some dinner probably

[teamred]

in sickness and in health

✩‌ logan howlett x reader x wade wilson | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY | you may be bedridden with the flu and feeling miserable, but you're blessed with two boyfriends to take good care of you. // part of the home sweet home series + requested by anonymous!

WARNINGS | s*xual jokes, none really!

RATING | teen+

It’s early Monday morning when your body feels like utter shit. 

You toss and turn in bed, fighting the blanket away from your boyfriends in a struggle to warm up, only throwing it off seconds after because of how hot you also feel. Your muscles are starting to ache, like you ran a marathon and then some. 

Next to you, Logan’s the first to stir awake, picking up on your restless movements. Propping himself up on one forearm, he gently places the back of his hand on your forehead. 

“Darlin’,” he whispers, brushing the damp hair away from your face. “You should call in sick. Ain’t no way you’re goin’ to work like this.” 

You turn away from him in protest. “No, I’m okay. Just feeling a little tired.” 

Logan huffs and shakes his head over how stubborn you are. 

He suddenly grabs his pillow and hurls it directly at Wade’s head, who’s sleeping on the other side of you. The pillow smacks into the latter, waking him from his deep snoring with a snort and a startled jump.

“What the fuck?!” Wade mumbles, rubbing his eyes and stroking his bald head as if he’s running fingers through his non-existent hair. “If you wanted to fuck this early in the morning, you could’ve just asked, sunshine.” 

An eye-roll from Logan. “Time to wake up, sleepin’ beauty.” 

He gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt, then walks towards Wade’s side of the bed, shoving his head. “Back me up in tellin’ our girl she’s gotta call in sick today.” 

“Huh?” Wade squints at your resting body, but when he leans over and presses his hand to your forehead, his eyes widen in shock.

“Jesus H. Christ, you’re burnin’ up more than the Jonas Brothers did in 2008. You’re staying home, peanut, and that’s not a request. Doctor Deadpool’s orders!” 

You whine. “Do I really have to?” 

“Yes,” they reply sternly in unison. 

Giving into your boyfriends’ commands, you groan. As Logan heads out of the room, Wade hands over your phone.

And you hate to admit it, but you know they’re right because you barely have enough energy to call in sick. To be safe, you ask for two days off, then flop right back into bed. 

Carefully, Wade pulls you into his arms and whispers into your hair, “Need a sexy nurse to take care of you, baby? ‘Cause I think I got an outfit stashed somewhere.” 

You try to laugh, but it comes out as a flat wheeze. “Maybe later, babe.” 

“Awww, you poor thing.” He frowns sympathetically. “You can barely even laugh. Man, you must be dying.” 

A few minutes later, Logan returns, holding a steaming cup of tea and ibuprofen in his other. He sits down onto the bed. 

“Here. Take these and drink this,” Logan orders. Wade releases you as you sit up slowly, wincing as you do, and follow through with Logan’s instructions.  

“You guys should probably avoid being near me,” you rasp. You’ll definitely need to drink more tea to soothe your oncoming sore throat. 

Logan chuckles softly and Wade ruffles your hair.  

“I can’t get sick,” Logan states matter-of-factly. 

“Neither do I,” your other boyfriend adds. “Well, I mean, unless you count cancer constantly fucking me in the ass.” 

In the moment, you’re filled with utmost envy for your superpowered boyfriends and their ridiculous healing abilities.

Wade climbs out of bed, patting Logan on the shoulder as he stands. 

“I’m gonna run some errands for our little sicky princess. Hold the fort down and keep her tied to the bed with those strong arms of yours, yeah?” He squeezes Logan’s bicep playfully and gives him a wink. 

“Pick up more tea for her.” 

“Oh, most definitely. And I’ll get condoms too! You know, they say that fever sex helps you get better faster.” 

“Wade.”  

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” 

He leans down, whispering above you. “I’m not kidding. I’d still do you in your current state, but only if you were up for it. Love you, babe.” He plants a kiss on your head and departs with a wave of his fingers. 

The older of your boyfriends shifts closer to you on your bed. “Do you want me to hold you right now?” 

You groan in negation, shaking your head slightly. You appreciate the gesture, but with your body switching between chills and a fever, Logan’s body warmth would just make things worse. 

“If you need anything, baby, just let me know,” he says softly.  

In response, you hum and nod, allowing yourself to relax as much as you can. Soon enough, you drift off, and can feel a hand stroking the side of your head, soothing you towards your much needed rest. 

“Wade, she’s sick, not on her death bed.” 

You blink awake, the sunlight coming through the window stronger than before. Judging by the position of the light, a few hours have passed since you fell asleep. You’re woken up by the familiar sounds of your boyfriends bickering in the other room. 

To strangers, and even to themselves, it sounds grating. But to you, it’s strangely calming and comforting. 

“Well, excuse me for being an exceptional boyfriend! I just wanna make sure she’s got anything she needs,” Wade fires back.  

A brief pause.

“That’s… thoughtful of you,” Logan grumbles stiffly.  

Wade’s laugh rings through the apartment, and you can envision him standing up with his hands on his hips, shaking his head in amusement. “Wow, that must’ve felt like pulling teeth for you, huh? Wait—why aren’t your teeth adamantium?” 

You think Logan sighs and probably rolls his eyes too. “Go check in on her, dumbass.” 

“Love you too, my lil honey badger,” Wade says, his voice and footsteps coming closer to the bedroom door.  

A soft knock on the door. 

“Feelin’ better yet, honey?” Wade asks, peeking his head through the door. 

“Not really,” you grumble. 

In a flash, he’s right in front of your face, his nose pressed against your cheek. “How about now?” 

That gets a small laugh from you. He grins, leaving a loud, exaggerated smooch on your cheek, holding it down for emphasis. You scrunch your face up at the lovely gesture. 

“What did you get from the store?” you ask with Wade’s arm now slung around your body. 

“Literally everything. Whatever you want, I’ve got it. I’m basically Costco now.” 

You test him. “Diapers?” 

“Okay, I don’t have that,” he admits, deadpan. “But I do have five different flavours of soup, an action figure of myself and Logan for you to play with—or to enact voodoo sex, you know I love a little one-on-one action with our man!—some random German cookies, and a bottle of Chinese herbal medicine the lady down the street swore by. At least, I think it’s medicine? Hard to say. And that’s only a few of the things I got.” 

“Can I have some soup?” 

“Of course. Tomato, cream of mushroom, chicken noodle, spicy nacho cheese, or clam chowder?” 

“Surprise me.”

“Spicy nacho cheese, it is.” 

You grunt in disapproval.

“Chicken noodle soup, it is.” 

After Wade spent some time spoonfeeding you your soup and Logan replenishing your cup of tea, sleep claimed you once more. By the time you wake up again, the room is pitch dark. 

“Logan,” you groan weakly. You immediately hear the TV volume lowered, followed by recognizable footsteps approaching the room.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Logan murmurs gently, sitting on the bed and reaching out to touch your forehead. You’re warm, but it’s an improvement from the morning. “Everything okay?” 

“Is there any dinner?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Is our girl hungry?” Wade hollers from the other room. “‘Cause I’m cooking up a storm right now!” 

A corner of Logan’s mouth quirks up. “I think Wade’s on it.” 

He turns on one of the bedside lamps, the soft light illuminating the room. With it, he catches the pleading look in your eyes, one that he can decipher in a heartbeat. Without hesitation, he scoots closer and pulls you into his chest, embracing you with a tight hug. 

“I feel like shit,” you grumble into him with your arms twined at his neck, inhaling his scent. 

“I know, baby, but it’ll pass. The more you rest, the faster it’ll go away,” he reassures you, stroking your back. “You gonna admit staying home was a good idea?” 

“Mm-mm.” You shake your head, even though you know he was right. 

He looks at you with a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re as cute as you are stubborn.” 

Moments later, Wade, adorning a “Blow the Chef” apron, comes in with a bed tray. You pull away from Logan, allowing Wade to properly position the tray in front of you. At the sight of syruped pancakes, you beam, especially at the attempted heart-shaped ones. 

“Voila! Voici les crêpes,” Wade declares in a decent French accent, but you’re pretty sure he’s mispronouncing crêpes as he says it like crap. 

“Thanks for everything, you guys,” you say, glancing up at your boyfriends. “I feel really bad.”

“Never ever feel bad about being sick, baby.” Wade says, setting in on one side of you. “It just means more time for us to spoil you.” 

Logan snuggles you on your other side, wrapping an arm around you. “It ain’t your fault, and it’s what we’re here for.” 

After being out for so long, you spend your time eating the pancakes and asking how their day was. Logan gets in a word before Wade rambles on how he almost got into a fight with a kid at one of the various stores he dropped by.

With both of them beside you, you finally start to feel a little better, if not from the flu, at least from the comfort they give.

[carolmunson]

modern!eddie x tipsy!reader

“Ooh, someone had fun,” he giggles from the couch while you stumble into the living room. He knew what to expect the moment he got your texts an hour ago.

omg can’’t t wait to duxk u when i home get t ho home* duck***** fuck u***

tell me they were at least good quality shots

casa migos i

aw come on, i taught you better than that

and wine

yeah? what kind?

.rose?

rosé?

all day lol and espresSo

martini?

😎 ya

sweetheart, did you eat at all?

yes!! we’ee getting za we ate before and now done dri nking

okay, will i see you soon?

ya soon we can sex

He laughed at that one, a hearty belly laugh. You’re only like this when you’re wasted. Clawing and snarling like a starved animal at the sight of him, the thought of him.

When you stumble in you’re lucid for the most part but your eyes are glassy with evidence of a good night. He can tell you smoked too, which means you’ll need more ibuprofen than you normally do when you drink.

You drop your purse and jacket next to the door, kicking off your heels by the TV stand. He’ll pick them up later.

“Hi baby,” he smirks coolly while you make your way to him on the couch.

“I had so much fun,” you respond, unbuttoning your jeans and shimmying them off, “But I never wanna wear ‘standing jeans’ again.”

He doesn’t know what you mean by that but he doesn’t ask, just nods, welcoming you with open arms while you straddle his lap. The second your faced dips into his neck he knows your promises of ravaging him are long broken. Your body relaxes, sinking in against his chest.

“I’m glad you had a good night, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly, hand sliding up and down your back. Your breaths come in slow, he can feel your lashes fluttering against his skin while you force yourself to stay awake.

“Would’ve been funner if you were there,” you say into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “You make everything fun.”

Eddie’s heart swells, “You think?”

You lean up, looking at him with glassy eyes, more tired than wasted, “I know.”

He leans his head back between the cushions, bangs dusting his eyes, “You make everything fun for me, too.”

You grin, a sloppy one, “You know how I can make tonight really fun?”

Your fingers skate up his chest, sending a shiver through him that stirs in his sweatpants.

“Sweetheart…” he warns gently.

“C’mon,” you whine, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, “Please.”

“Doll, you’ve been drinkin’,” he reminds, reaching up to cup your cheek, “You know I don’t like playing around like that.”

“I’m not drunk though,” you protest, “I can do the drunk driver test. I swear.”

“By the way you’re falling asleep sitting up, I doubt it,” he laughs. He leans up, supporting you on his thighs while he goes in to plant a loving kiss on your lips, “I think we should head to bed.”

“Lame,” you frown, scrunching your face. You shimmy off his lap and cross your arms, walking down the hall to the bedroom.

“Kissin’ me like that like some kinda Cassanova…” you grumble. He rolls his eyes, getting some water and aspirin for you while you change into some pajamas.

“That’s what the call me. Eddie Casanova Munson,” he grizzles, leaning against the door frame with the glass and pills and hand, “Your libations, princess.”

Your sour look doesn’t fade when you take them, but you to say a quiet thank you when the pills pass your lips.

“Am I not fun anymore?” he teases.

“No, you’re still fun,” you sigh, crawling into bed where he follows. Eddie takes a silent win when you wrap yourself around him after sliding between the sheets.

“I’ll be more fun tomorrow,” he smiles, burying himself in your neck. You feel his warm scratchy chin and shiver, soft kisses following it, “It’s gonna rain.”

“That doesn’t sound very fun,” you murmur, the bed feeling cozier with every passing moment while the alcohol rushes in you for one last sleepy hurrah.

“Yeah it is,” he responds quietly, feeling you grow heavy and slack against him, “We can stay in all day.”

“Boring.”

“Boring huh?” he smirks, “I don’t know, I thought maybe we could revisit your texts.”

[idontplaytrack]

Heart of a child

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: age regression, sickfic(reader throws up), fluff, bit of coarse language

A sick day triggers a regression episode for reader.

When your alarm clock went off, you jolted awake, wincing at the sheer volume of the noise it seemed to be at. Your head was pounding, your throat was dry and scratchy, and you somehow felt warm but also freezing at the same time. You whined, shoving your phone off the nightstand after shutting the alarm off. With your face buried in your pillow, you whined.

You were sick. It’s been awhile, but still it sucked. You felt miserable from the get-go— you hadn’t even been awake for five minutes. Your phone rang, vibrating on the floor. You grumbled incoherently, rolling over to the edge of your bed you stared at it. Since the screen was facing up, you saw that it was AJ calling. You somehow managed to grab your phone from where you were laying(you didn’t have a bedframe and your mattress was on the floor, but still).

“Hey.” You said, voice cracking mid-word.

“Yeah, you’re not going to school today.” She decided.

“Yeah, no shit.” You sigh, “Sorry, have a good day though.”

“Take meds, okay? I’ll be there after school.” She replied, concerned. You could hear it in her voice.

“I’ll try.” You muttered.

“Take them.” She insisted, you whined.

“It’ll help if you have a fever or any aches and pains.” She continued, “Figured you’d be coming down with something the last time I saw you.”

“Wow.”

“I’m just saying, after awhile, I can tell if you’re coming down with something soon, you know?” She chuckles, “Stay hydrated. If you need me to get anything, please let me know whenever, alright?”

“Alright.” You sulked.

“Before I go, do you need urgent medical attention?”

“No.” You giggled at how serious she seemed to be, “I’m pretty sure that it’s just a cold or the flu.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, AJ. I’m sure.” You exhaled, “You’re talking to me now, do you think I sound like I’m gonna pass out or something?”

“Okay, alright.” She smiles, “Rest up, stay hydrated, eat something if you can. I’ll see you in a few hours. Okay, honey?”

“Okay.” You licked your lips, swallowing painfully. It felt like you were swallowing glass.

“Bye, I love you.” She replies, making a kissy noise.

“Love you too.” You said quietly before she hung up.

Obviously AJ had to go to classes and all so she couldn’t just stay online and talk to you. As a result, your day kinda dragged on. It felt like time was passing by extra slowly. But you were also groggy so that made you pass right back out for a couple more hours before you got out of bed to try and eat something before you took the medicine.

You’d gotten a text from AJ thirty minutes ago, and another from Gabi twenty minutes ago both asking how you were doing. You curtly responded to Gaby’s text saying you were fine. Then you were in AJ’s chat— you apologised for the late response, letting her know that you’d just woken up again. You also shot her a second text to tell her that you were having some oatmeal before she got on your case about why you weren’t having anything to eat.

You ate quite slowly, feeling an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You hated throwing up— in fact, you were terrified of it. And you had no one here with you. You didn’t have AJ here with you. Oh God, you didn’t have AJ here with you.

You swallowed thickly, staring at the spoonful of maple syrup oatmeal. You took a deep breath and dropped the spoon, deciding not to take another bite. As you got up from the barstool, you phone buzzed, but you ignored it and made your way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall. You took out the ibuprofen and Zofran, along with the thermometer. But first things first, you popped a Zofran into your mouth and let it sit under your tongue for it to dissolve and absorb. You were hoping that it would tide you over. Still unsure, you leaned against the sink countertop as you took the other pill then put them away. You hung around in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes before you decided it was okay to step away.

————

You sat on the couch in front of the TV, anxious and trying to pass the time. You were watching whatever was on right now and also nodding off every now and then since nothing was particularly interesting. You still had a couple hours until school let out and you were honestly so very restless. So, you just sat there and was eventually staring into space. Your mind wanders, and before you knew it you're fully spaced out.

The sickening feeling bubbles back up after awhile and fails to die down no matter what you tried. You knew you were anxious. So that definitely contributed to whatever you were feeling, you think. So you attempted to help yourself by taking some deep breaths, but it barely did anything for you. When your phone went off, you got a shock, snapping out of your thoughts.

AJ was calling you again. So you picked up, of course.

“Hello?” You gulped.

“Hi, honey.” She said back, “I’m on my way to yours right now, okay? I’ll be right there.”

You sniffled, “Okay.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you. That feeling…the nausea you hated it. You didn’t want to be experiencing that, you didn’t want to throw up. You didn’t even want to think about it. You didn’t even want to think about it. Those thoughts kept swimming around in your head, over and over and over. Your chest heaved, sweat beading at the side of your head as you clutched onto the armrest of the couch. Out of sheer frustration, you started to cry. A painful lump too quickly forming in your throat. You inhaled shakily, throwing your head back on the headrest blinking the tears away— actually, more of it fell instead. You screwed your eyes shut, feeling absolutely exhausted from your racing mind. Your body ached, everywhere. You needed AJ.

You were curled up in the corner of the couch in the meantime, staring at the TV. Really, you were just staring at the screen, not a clue what was even going on in the show. When the front door open, you whipped your head around to see that AJ was here. “Oh, there you are.” AJ shut the door behind herself and locked it back up.

“Hi, honey.” She crouched down, stroking your cheek.

You hesitantly focused your eyes on hers, then she continued, “I’m right here, I’m gonna take good care of you, hm?”

You swallowed your spit harshly, “My tummy hurts. I don’t like it.” You hiccuped, “I don’t like it.”

AJ trusted her gut for this, she helped you sit up. “I know, I know, baby. It doesn’t feel good.” She helped you stand up, hoping to take you to the bathroom, but your stomach did a much unwanted somersault and you whimpered.

AJ panics for a moment but spots the trash can by the coffee table. She grabs that and held it under your chin, following you as you plopped back onto the couch. You were basically throwing a tantrum and freaking out over having to throw up. “Shhh.” She rubs your back, “I have you, just let it out. Baby, don’t worry, don’t hold it.”

“No…” You cried.

“Sweetie, please. You’ll feel better after, I promise.” AJ continues, hand still rubbing your back as she watches you fight the urge to vomit. “Baby, please let it out.”

As much as you were dreading actually having to throw up, with AJ right next to you, keeping an eye on you, you had to let it happen. You felt like absolute shit trying to fight that feeling.

You spilled your stomach’s contents into the trash can, throat stinging from the stomach acid. “Baby, baby, no. Don’t look at it.” She coaxed, “That’s it, let it all out, I got you.”

She held the trash can there until you completely stopped even dry-heaving. Thankfully, like she said, you did feel better.

“That’s it, good girl. Good job, baby.” She smiles, getting up from her seat to take care of the trash can promptly. After that, she was right next to you once again. You got up and went to the bathroom to rinse out your mouth and wash your face with AJ following right behind you.

“You want some water?” She asked quietly.

You shook your head no as you dragged your feet back outside. “I still feel funny.”

“You might for a couple days, but you’ll be just fine.” She snaked an arm around your waist. “How about a popsicle?”

“Okay.” You followed her to the kitchen, then back to the couch. She opened that up for you and you slowly ate it while she cuddled with you. After awhile, you only snuggled closer and closer— this clinginess was a telltale sign that you were regressed. Which she figured out the second you opened up your mouth to talk to her when she arrived. She knew your triggers, she knew how to handle you, she knew how to take care of you to make sure you were safe and happy— as much as possible, though you clearly weren’t happy now being under the weather and all.

“Baby.” She hums, “When you feel better later, let’s try and eat something, alright? I’ll make you some soup. And you can have it with—”

“Goldfish?”

“Goldfish. Sure, baby. Whatever you like.” AJ nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “As long as you’re happy. I’m just glad you’re in a better mood now, my love.”

“That was yucky.” You sniffed.

“Mm, I know, baby.” She scratches your scalp, “But do you feel better now?”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“Yeah? That’s so good.” AJ said back, “Did you get any sleep?”

“Lil bit.” You told her, “I need tissue. I need—”

She interjects before you got flustered, “I got it, I got. That’s okay. It’s just a little bit of the melted popsicle.”

You chewed on your lip, taking a deep breath before you got more agitated.

————

While your temperature was still down, AJ helps you with a quick shower. Following that, was to get some food into your system so you could take another dose of the medications.

“Will you just sit right here for me, baby? Give me a few minutes to heat you up some soup, yeah?”

“Okay.” You sat down at the dining table just like she’d told you to, resting your chin on folded arms as you watched her work in the kitchen.

And well, honestly? You didn’t have an appetite at all. So when the soup was done, she asked you to eat and you threw another tantrum. Who could blame you? Right now, in your head, you thought you were four. That’s what kids do when they weren’t having it. Not to mention that you cried so so easily when you were sick. AJ knew that, she knew what to expect. And it always made her heartache seeing you cry. Especially on days where you were not feeling well. You had issues expressing yourself as it was during regression, being sick was an added challenge. But AJ was not one to just give up and leave you to fend for yourself. No.

“Sit here, baby.” She gestured for you to sit on her lap.

You sulked, shaking your head, your hand clutching onto your little blanket. “y/n, sit here please, baby. You need to eat something, I know you’re so hungry. Please? I promise when you feel better we’ll go to the playground, or the trampoline park.”

You complied at last, she bites back a sigh of relief, wrapping an arm around you as you lowered yourself onto her lap. “Good girl.” Her palm stays on your abdomen, the warmth providing you some much needed comfort. “I’ll feed you, okay?”

Sniffling, you mumbled, “Okay.”

AJ patiently fed you the chicken noodle soup — with Goldfish crackers for the next thirty minutes until you said you didn’t want any more. “You’re sure, honey?”

“Yeah, I’m full.” You replied.

“That’s great.” She smooches your cheek, “Do you wanna take a nap?”

You didn’t say anything but shifted a little so you could hook your arms around her neck. Again, clingy. But she adored these moments.

“I’d say so.” She chuckles, “Just stay awake for me a few minutes longer, hm?” AJ felt your forehead, then decided the next dose would be the right choice— the temperature seemed to be creeping back, considering how much less chatty you were compared to when you were eating.

“I’m ‘eepy.” You whined, rubbing your eyes.

“Honey, you need the medicine so you won’t wake up sick.” She said softly, “Stay right there, baby. Okay? I’ll be just a minute.”

You were getting cranky but she needed you to take the meds, no matter what. Otherwise the fever would come right back. She also thought to give you an antihistamine for your runny nose. But since you were in the headspace of a four-year old, you could not swallow pills. So, she had to dig through the medicine cabinet for the liquid versions of both of those medications. Thank goodness she managed to find them— thank goodness you didn’t run out of them.

AJ measured out the dosages in those tiny little cups then got out a juice box for you. While you fought the very strong urge to nod off.

“Here we go. A juice box, for after you drink these up.” She held up one of the tiny cups for you, and you took it, scrunching up your nose in disgust.

“Go on.” She urged.

You shook your head.

“You’re sleepy.” She sighs, “Please take it. Here, I’ll open up the juice box for you, okay? Please?”

You studied the two liquids briefly before you gave in and quickly downed them both. You shuddered at the bitter aftertaste while AJ instantly stuck the straw of the juice box in your mouth. “Good job.” She praised, “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Up.” You pouted, arms held out. AJ loved carrying you way too much, and you usually didn’t let her, so it mainly only happened during these times.

“Aw, come on. Let’s go get some rest.” She picked you up easily, your legs hooked around her on either of her side while your chin rested on her shoulder, and arms around her neck.

She set you down and tucked you in snuggly under the covers before getting in next to you.

“Close your eyes.” She hums, caressing your abdomen for a bit then patting the area to coax you to sleep.

“I want a song.” You requested quietly.

“Of course.” She smiled at you, you smiled back and once your eyes closed, AJ started to sing. “Sleep tight, sweet girl. I’m right here if you need me.”

“Well, I feel like the time's just slipping away

And it seems that the road gets rougher each day

Sometimes I get caught up

With little things that just don't matter

I remember how I used to swing from a rope

One that sat on the hills just above Jackson's Cove

Sometimes I close my eyes

And just go back to that little girl

I wanna run

I wanna fall

I wanna take every chance that's given to me

Live this life like I've got nothing to hide

Free and wild

With the heart of a child

With the heart of a child

Try to be everything to everybody but you

But the truth is you ain't got nothing to prove

You only get one chance

Only one trip around this world and

I wanna run

I wanna fall

I wanna take every chance that's given to me

Live this life like I've got nothing to hide

Free and wild

With the heart of a child

I wanna chase down a dream

With nothing to break my fall

Just risk it all

And have no regrets

And never forget

To run

And fall

I wanna take every chance that's given to me

And live this life like I've got nothing to hide

Free and wild

With a smile

And the heart of a child

And the heart of a child”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

I thought this was a little draggy lol.🫠

[heejayy]

Shuri is the type to stick a vibrator up your pussy at the dinner table and purposefully ask you questions to watch you struggle while your friends are watching you

Shuri x black reader// 18+

especially if you’ve been testing her patience all DAY!!

“Y/n you good girl?” Your friend asks you with a concerned look.

Shuri pouted eyeing you over “Yes my love are you alright? you look…nauseated” you glared at her through your peripheral vision, before trying to sit up straight.

“I’m fine j-just uh cramping, yeah I’m cramping” it was a horrible lie but they seemed to believe it, your friend even went through her purse and handed you some ibuprofen. You shamefully took it as Shuri eyed you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, as you took a sip of your drink she tapped her kimoyo beads on her wrist and you immediately clinched your thighs together.

When you flinched it launched the liquid down your throat causing you to choke, your friends looked at you with another concerned look, now you were more becoming embarrassed.

“Usana are you sure you’re alright?” That brat.

She just had to put the attention back on you again.

“I’m fine“

“Oh you’re fin?” She asked tapping her wrist again fastening the pace of the vibrator she stuck in your pussy an hour ago. Your panties were completed drenched by now, and you were worried your cum would soak through.

“You know actually I’m not I think I need to lay down, I’ll see you guys later” you grabbed your things and quickly left the dinner table. On the way to the car you could feel your juices drip down you leg, shuri knew exactly what she was doing, walking slow watching you grow more annoyed as you tugged on the locked car door.

“Ok can you please turn it off now I can’t take anymore” you whined clenching your thighs together.

Shuri sighed acting as if she was thinking, she took you chin in between her fingers bringing your face closer.

“No” she smirked, you groaned stomping your feet on the floor of her car like a child.

“You’ll keep in in until we get home, and don’t think about cumming again” Shuri was very playful but when it came down to her threats you took them very seriously, so you decided to listen to her giving the fact you’ve pissed her off enough today.

“Yes ma’am.”

Listen idc what y’all say, she def has a ma’am kink 😭🤚🏾

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?

[topsytervy]

Wisdom Teeth ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ takes care of you after you get your wisdom teeth out. Not gonna lie, this post is kind of a mess

Word Count: 1,890

Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, small mention of alcohol/drinking, I think that’s it.

I’m just going to say that this is based off of my wisdom teeth experience. I didn’t get gassed or put under, my moms friend suggested me holding alcohol in my mouth cause she did that when she got hers out and it worked for her (it worked for me enough to let me sleep like the dead, and my mom kept laughing at me.

I aged JJ and the reader to 19 cause why not.

I also lowkey started thinking of JJ taking care of his kids after their wisdom teeth get pulled and thats shows in the ending. 

anyway, small shoutout to @taylathornton who got me thinking about this after she said something about JJ or Rafe taking care of the reader when they get their wisdom teeth out.

~~~~

You walked out into the waiting room, gauze on either side of your mouth, your boyfriend standing by the counter as someone gave him the same rundown they gave you post-extraction. 

JJ smiled as he saw you, not that you could see with the mask over the bottom half of his face, and pulled you into his side.

"Just remember that if you still feel pain while taking the prescription he gave you today, call back and he'll prescribe you something stronger." the lady said. 

You nodded as you shoved the sheet filled with the instructions, prescriptions, and the extra gauze they gave you into JJ's hands. JJ said a quick thank you to the lady and then directed you to the door, every penny being covered by your insurance.

Thank God.

"How do you feel, princess?" He asked, intertwining your fingers together.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You told him.

Well, attempted to tell him but the gauze in your mouth wasn't helping. The mask definitely added to muffling your voice.

JJ chuckled. "What?" He asked, unlocking the truck.

"You didn't tell me the extraction was such a violent process." You said slower, louder, and slightly more enunciated. 

JJ helped you into the truck. "Didn't want to scare you, Y/N/N."

"I can do it myself. I wasn’t gassed or anything. Just numbed." You swatted his hand away as he went to buckle you in.

He held up his hands. "Alright. I'm sorry." 

"Besides the lady said that I was surprisingly calm during the process." You informed him as you took off your mask.

"That's good." He closed the door and walked over to the driver’s side, climbing in as he also took off his mask. "Since you were so good during the process, how about you remind me in a week to take you to Dairy Queen and we'll get you some ice cream." He suggested, leaning over the center console and brushing some hair out of your face.

"Can I get chicken tenders too?" You asked, looking at your blonde boyfriend with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

JJ let out a laugh as he started the truck and began to pull out of the parking lot. "Yeah. You can get chicken tenders too, princess."

You smiled, reaching into your mouth to readjust the blood-soaked gauze only to have JJ swat your hand away. "Don't."

"But I feel like I’m swallowing the gauze every time I go to swallow my saliva." You whined.

JJ sighed. "That’s because the roof of your mouth is swollen so it makes it difficult to swallow the saliva. Just leave the gauze where it is."

You shot JJ a look before bringing your hand to your mouth again. JJ reached over and grabbed your wrist his eyes never leaving the road.

"Y/N." He warned.

"JJ." You imitated.

"I said don't touch it." 

You took your wrist away from him and crossed your arms, looking out the window. 

"Keep that up and you won’t get dairy queen next week. I'll get myself dairy queen and you can keep eating soup and mashed potatoes." 

"You're so mean to me sometimes, J." You whispered.

"Only cause I love you and care about you, baby." He smiled, his hand going to your thigh and giving it a light squeeze. 

You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours. "You're so sweet."

JJ shook his head. "Flip-floppy today, huh. 3 seconds ago I was mean and now I'm sweet."

You shrugged. "You're a flip-floppy guy. You threw me off the dock once when it was chilly outside and then gave me clothes to change into not even three minutes later."

"That's called being a gentleman." He smirked. 

"No. It's called being an asshole with a heart." 

JJ snorted as he pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, pulling into a parking space before throwing the truck in park and grabbed his wallet along with your prescriptions.

"Stay here. I’ll be back." He kissed your temple before putting his mask back on, adjusting it so it was over his nose.

You shot him a thumbs-up as you pulled out your phone, taking the time to reply to Kie and Sarah who wanted to check in on you. They both offered to come over and take care of you but you told them you were fine cause you had JJ with you.

Kie immediately replied with a 'that's why we're offering.'

You let out a small giggle before sending them an 'I'm sure JJ can handle it' before locking your phone and pulling down the sun visor to look in the mirror. 

You opened your mouth and made a face as you looked at the inside of your mouth and saw the dried blood on your lips.

JJ opened the door and slid back into the driver’s seat, placing the bag with the two pill bottles in your lap. "You know, technically you’re supposed to keep pressure on the gauze for an hour so it clot and shit."

"You didn't tell me the inside of my mouth looks like it’s having its own little period. I smiled at you with my mouth looking like I took a baseball or something to the teeth." You scolded.

"Princess, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, you look like a hockey player who took a puck to the teeth." JJ laughed as he put the car in drive and made his way to the grocery store.

"JJ," you whined, not finding his comparison cute in the slightest.

"What? It's more accurate than the baseball comparison you said." 

"Stop laughing at me, J. It's not funny." 

"I'm sorry. You're just so whiney right now and it's adorable to me. Makes me want to bundle you up and hold you in my arms and protect you from all the evil in the world." JJ glanced at you. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out the window. “Y/N, don’t be like this now.”

“You’re being mean to me.” 

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m over here bleeding, preparing for the numbness to wear off and the pain to set in and you’re laughing at me.”

JJ grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’m sorry, baby. Can you accept me buying you soup as my way of asking for your forgiveness?”

He stopped at a stop sign and looked over at you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed. "I suppose."

He grinned as he squeezed your hand lightly. “See, you can’t stay mad at me forever, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes before leaning your head against the headrest. “It’s because I need you to take care of me while I’m healing.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. As much as I love Kie and Sarah, I don’t think their cuddles can compare to yours.”

JJ nodded. “Fair enough. That’s all you need me for? Cuddles?” 

You shrugged. “We’ll see.”

****

Within two hours, you were tearing up as the numbness wore off, the pain coming in at full force. You laid on the couch in the living room of the apartment you and JJ shared, a blanket thrown over your body.

JJ walked over with a glass of water and the pills you were prescribed. “Alright, here’s your amoxicillin, and here’s your ibuprofen.” He handed you the pills as you sat up.

You popped the two pills into your mouth, taking the glass of water from your boyfriend’s hand before taking a sip and swallowing the pills. JJ took the glass from you and set it on the end table as you sniffed.

“You know what might help?” JJ asked, walking over to one of the cabinets and opening it. 

“What?”

“I know you’re not a big drinker, Y/N, but I remember Mr. Heyward telling me when I got my wisdom teeth out that, if you take vodka, whiskey, tequila, whatever, and kind of hold it in your mouth, tilting your head left and right, it’ll help with the pain. It almost renumbs it and because it’s alcohol, it also helps fight infections.” JJ explained, grabbing the bottle of vodka he had stashed away.

He grabbed a shot glass and filled it up before bringing it over to you. 

“JJ, baby, I don’t think I should be having alcohol after taking a 600 mg ibuprofen and a 500 mg amoxicillin. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s what the amoxicillin is for anyway.” 

JJ sighed. “I know, princess, but I’m trying to help you out here. It hurts me to see you hurting.”

“And just two hours ago you were saying it was cute when I’m all whiney.” You joked.

“You are cute when you’re whiney and not in pain. Now you’re just in pain and I don’t like it.” 

You looked at JJ with a frown. “How about we just cuddle for the rest of the day? Maybe take a nap because I’m all tuckered out.” 

JJ smiled lightly, downing the shot of vodka before heading over to you and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms snaked around his neck, him holding you up by your thighs. He carried you into your bedroom, taking one of his hands and pulling back the blankets before gently setting you down and tucking you in. 

He climbed in on his side, gently pulling you into his side, putting a pillow on top of his upper arm so you weren’t resting on his arm, knowing that it wouldn’t help the pain at all.

“Comfortable, princess?” He asked.

You hummed in response, your arm draping across his stomach. 

He kissed the top of your head, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“I’m sorry in advance if I drool on you. I’m even more sorry if it’s bloody drool.” You muttered.

“It’s alright. You can drool on me whenever you want, bloody or not.”

You smiled. “And Kie and Sarah were worried about you taking care of me.”

JJ scoffed. “I always take care of you so Kie and Sarah can shove a sock in it.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, baby. I defended you and your ability to take care of me.”

“I would hope so. After all, I’m buying you Dairy Queen next week. I don’t buy Dairy Queen for anybody, you know.”

“I know.” You sighed.

It was quiet for a few minutes and you were almost asleep before JJ spoke again.

“You gotta eat your soup and mashed potatoes though or else you don’t get chicken tenders next week.”

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, JJ. You sound like my dad when I had to go get shots.”

“That just means I’m prepared for when we have kids. The whole bribery part of parenting, in the bag.” JJ stated with a nod.

You nodded. “Alright, baby. I can’t wait to tell our kids how you knew you were ready to be a father because you told me a week after my wisdom teeth were removed, you were going to buy me chicken tenders and ice cream.”

JJ smiled. “And I can’t wait to be saying the same thing to them when they get their wisdom teeth out.”

~~~~~~

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: GF Having PMS

PMS: Pre-menstrual syndrome. Aka, those 1-2 weeks before a girl gets her period, they have symptoms like acne, bloating, cramps, food cravings, fatigue, increased sexual libido, mood swings, tender breasts and irritability among other things. It's not actually when you are on your period, for those of you who don't know. Also girls: it's totally normal and don't feel bad about any of these symptoms or talking about them ♡♡♡♡

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong didn't know what was going on with you. One minute you're happy and wanting to cuddle, and then a minute later you're mad for no reason. It was making him angry honestly. You two have been dating for almost a month, he thought you were past the push and pull game already.

"What is wrong with you Y/N?!" He blurted out one day when your mood swings were too much.

He felt really bad when you started crying though.

"I'm sorry... it's not your fault. I get like this when I'm PMSing and I don't even notice...I'm sorry." You said while wiping tears out of your face.

Now it clicked in his brain and he felt even more bad. Carefully he sat down next to you and rubbed your back.

"Hey it's ok, don't worry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you, so I'm sorry for that."

He pulled you into a hug and just held you there till you stopped crying.

"Better now?" He asked once you calmed down to which you nodded.

"Good. Now do you wanna go get ice cream?"

He got better at dealing with your mood swings every time they happened. He learned to back off when you were irritated and to hold you when you were sad.

Park Seonghwa:

Technically you weren't on your period, but for some reason you only got cramps during PMS and they were horrible.

All Seonghwa heard was "cramps" and he was very much on it. He ran out the door to the nearest store, bought a heating pad, bought chamomile tea to make for you, ibuprofen for the pain and even picked up a cute teddy bear for you.

So then Seonghwa handed you the bear while he placed the the heating pad on your tummy and gave you a glass of water for you to take one of the pills. The tea was already being brewed in the kitchen. Making sure it wasn't too hot to burn you, he took it to you and insisted on helping you sip on it.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked you with a lot of tenderness.

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yes I am. Thank you, you're the perfect boyfriend."

You asked him to cuddle with you, which he was happy to oblige. However he made sure not to squeeze you too hard, worried that he might accidentally put pressure on your tummy and make your cramps worse.

Jeong Yunho:

You were fatigued, just laying on your bed, blankets covering you. It was well past 11 a.m and you still didn't feel the energy to get up. Your plan was to lay in bed for the whole day, or if you had to get up, do very minimal activity.

Suddenly a loud door slamming open and a loud:

"Honey! I'm home!!"

Yunho's energetic voice resonated through the house.

"Baby?! Where are you?!" He asked loudly.

You groaned, unable to even tell him where you were.

"There you are! So I got the day off and I thought we could- is something wrong?" He was worried when he saw your low state.

"I'm just really tired that's all. I don't feel like getting out of bed." You responded.

He was really worried though, wondering if you were sick or something. That's when you explained you just had fatigue due to PMS and just wanted rest.

"I'm sorry we can't go out like you wanted to."

"No! It's ok. We can just stay indoors and watch movies all day long. I'm always in a cuddling mood you know." He said as he joined you on the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

Kang Yeosang:

Movie nights with your boyfriend were a regular occurrence. You guys rarely payed attention to the movie, you both ended up talking very comfortably to each other. This particular night, your PMS symptom of tender breasts was acting up more than normal. Usually, you could go about your day without it bothering you, tonight it was too much though. And unconsciously your hands went in your shirt, kneading at them.

"Uh.....what are you doing?" Yeosang's voice snapped you back to reality.

"Oh.....my boobs are sore." You simply answered.

Yeosang just nodded like he understood and just looked back at the tv as he sipped on his apple juice. Wanting to mess with him a bit, you asked:

"Want to help me out?"

The juice box suddenly flattened as he sucked in all of the juice, flustered at your question. He looked at you with a look that asked "seriously?" You simply pouted at him.

"Ok." He shrugged and put his juice down.

"Wait what?" It was now your turn to be flustered.

Choi San:

Days leading up to your period were super annoying. Not only did you get killer headaches randomly, but your body decides to bloat out of nowhere and so the jeans that fit you perfectly yesterday now couldn't zip up.

"Oh fuck off!" You huffed out when the zipper ended up breaking from you pulling on it so much.

"I didn't even do anything??" San's voice from the bedroom reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Not you! I was talking about my jeans!" You explained.

"Why what's wrong?" He asked.

"They don't fit and the zipper broke." You whined.

San came inside the bathroom, seeing what the problem was.

"They fit fine yesterday?" He was confused about what happened.

And so a mini lesson on your body changes during PMS ensued. San ate up all the information for next time.

"Why don't I just buy you stretchy pants so you're more comfortable?" He suggested.

"Aww that's so nice of you." You awed at his kind gesture.

"But between you and me, I'd rather have you with no pants on." He winked at you.

You grabbed a towel and threw it at him.

"Choi San! Now you fuck off!"

Song Mingi:

You were avoiding seeing your boyfriend for the past 2 days, feeling embarrassing about the tiny breakouts that popped out on your cheeks. You didn't like looking at them and hated if anyone saw you like that. But Mingi was clingy and couldn't go one day without seeing you and so one day you were startled when he tapped on your bedroom window and then proceeded to crawl his way in.

"What are you doing here?!" You screeched as you covered your face with the blanket.

"I needed to make sure you weren't dead or kidnapped!" He responded as he got up from the floor.

He looked at your weird position and asked what it was about, and you refused to answer. Mingi just strode over to you and pulled the blanket off you.

"Don't! I look horrible!" You tried reaching for something else to cover up.

"You look fine. What are you talking about?" He was genuine confused what you meant.

"No I don't! Look at this! Stupid breakouts! I hate it!" You crossed your arms and looked down.

Mingi's heart dropped at your words.

"Honey listen.." He sat down next to you and held your hand. "Those things are totally normal. Everyone gets them once in a while, so don't feel bad. You're still beautiful no matter what."

He smiled brightly at you, hoping to cheer you up. You smiled back and didn't feel so self conscious about it anymore.

Jung Wooyoung:

Wooyoung honestly loved annoying you with his love. Usually you were very patient with him, except when you were PMSing, then you were irritable almost every day and had no patience for anyone, including him. If you think that'd stop him and leave you alone, you're wrong. That's when he likes annoying you the most. He thinks you look like cute whenever you yell at him to stop or to leave you alone.

"Who's the cutest kitten here?" He said in a sing song voice as he ruffled your hair.

"Stooop!" You whined out, getting annoyed.

"Oooh feisty kitten! Maybe if I tickle your-"

"Noooo!" You moved away from him when he tried to touch your face.

"Y/N baby.." He continued.

"Go away!" You swatted his hand away and marched to the bathroom to cool off for a little bit.

Wooyoung laughed at you stomping away in annoyance.

"One day she might actually kill you." Yeosang pointed out.

"Nah she won't, she loves me too much. Besides, isn't she hot when she's angry?" Wooyoung said.

"I seriously hold onto my theory that you're a masochist and a weirdo." Yeosang shook his head.

Choi Jongho:

Honestly you felt blessed that your only PMS symptom was weird cravings that turned you into a foodie. You had heard horror stories from your friends about how their PMS was unbearable, so you considered yourself lucky. In fact, sometimes you even forgot it was a PMS symptom.

Jongho never noticed anything unusual about your cravings, thinking you were hungry or something, until you pulled out a really weird combination that seemed to last days.

"You're eating that again?" He asked as he stared at the food in front of you.

"Yeah. I've been really craving it recently."

Jongho's heart stopped for a moment, panic rushing through him.

"Oh my God! I think I got you pregnant!" He exclaimed, his hands going to his head.

You bursted out laughing at that.

"What? No you didn't you silly goose." It was so amusing to you that he came to that conclusion.

"Then how else do you explain it?!" You honestly felt bad at how he was freaking out.

Pulling out a chair, you gestured for him to sit on it.

"Make yourself comfortable Jongho. Time for a little biology lesson."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[ynscrazylife]

I was thinking maybe a oneshot where clumsy B!D is trying to workout, but she drops a heavy weight on her foot and injures it?

Yep yep!

Working Out Sucks

Summary: While working out, Y/N drops a weight and breaks her foot. Overprotective sisters to the rescue.

“‘Work out’ they said, ‘go to the gym’ they said, ‘it’ll be good for you’ they said,” Y/N muttered to herself as she laid on a hospital bed, looking grumpily at the cast on her foot. She had accidentally dropped a weight when she was at the gym and broke her foot because of it.

And she hadn’t told her sisters yet.

Judging by the news, Supergirl was off saving a civillian and Y/N was sure the DEO - so, Alex - was behind her. About ten minutes later, though, her phone was ringing.

“Hey, Alex,” Y/N said as she pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hey! We still on for sister’s night? Kara and I just got handling an issue downtown,” she said.

Y/N bit her lip. She had been dreading this conversation. “Yeah, I saw Supergirl on the news,” she said, glancing up at the T.V and sighing. “We might have to postpone sister’s night.”

“What? Why?” Y/N heard Kara’s screech. She couldn’t help but chuckle lightly.

“You’re on speakerphone,” Alex clarified.

Y/N nodded, though they couldn’t see her. “I mean, I guess we could still do sister’s night but . . . I broke my foot,” she admitted.

There was about two seconds of silence - the calm before the storm - before hell erupted.

“You what??” Alex said loudly.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Who do I need to beat up?” Kara asked at the same time.

“No one, Kar. I took your advice and I went to the gym and I dropped a weight on my foot. I’m at the hospital with a big cast and crutches,” she said.

“Oh my god - okay. Kara will pick you up and I’m gonna get her apartment set up,” Alex said.

“What? No. I can use my crutches, Al. Besides, what does ‘set up’ mean?” Y/N argued.

“Y/N Danvers, have you met us?” Alex asked.

Oh shit, Y/N realized. They were going into overprotective sister mode. Didn’t help that one was a superhero and one was a trained agent.

Before she could protest, Alex hung up.

Ten minutes later Kara was arriving and helped Y/N get discharged. When they got into an alleyway, Kara had Y/N hold her crutches and then she picked Y/N up and flew her to her apartment.

“This is really not necessary,” Y/N said as Kara carried her into her apartment. She tossed her crutches onto the couch.

“Yes, it is,” Alex said, grabbing pillows and blankets. Kara put Y/N onto the couch and Alex put a pillow behind her head and under her foot, as well as layering blankets on her.

Y/N rolled her eyes and Alex and Kara flopped on the couch, sitting on either side of her.

“Do you need anything?” Alex asked.

“I’m good,” Y/N said, smiling at her sisters.

“Then we can watch some movies!” Kara said, leaning forward to grab the remote.

“Don’t you two need to be at the DOE?” Y/N asked, not thinking that they would stay.

“Nope! The city has Guardian and the DOE has, er, Brainy! We’re taking care of our little sis,” Kara said.

Y/N accepted that. She was happy to be with them, even if they were going a little overboard.

————————————————

Two movies in and both Supergirl and Agent Danvers were asleep. Y/N smiled, carefully turned off the t.v. She wanted to let them sleep because they probably needed it. Saving people 24/7 meant you didn’t get much sleep. However . . . Y/N needed to have a shower after how sweaty the gym made her. She knew they’d be mad if they found out she was using her crutches, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right?

Y/N grabbed her discarded crutches and slowly made her way to Kara’s bathroom. She grabbed Kara’s night shirt and sweatpants (hopefully she wouldn’t mind) and got bandages and the bath ready. She then slipped inside after taking off her cast and washed herself.

After doing that, she turned off the bath and wrapped herself into a towel. Getting herself out and sitting on the floor, she put on Kara’s clothes and then began the task of re-bandaging her foot.

Taking off the previous, now wet bandage she looked at her foot with a sigh. Her foot was bruised and Y/N couldn’t help but flex her foot a bit, cringing when it hurt. She’d have to take some ibuprofen for the pain that still lingered.

Re-bandaging her foot and throwing the last one away, Y/N put her cast on. She got herself up, only stumbling a bit with her crutches, and got outside.

Her sisters were still asleep, and Y/N felt proud of herself. See, Alex and Kara? She could take care of herself with a broken foot perfectly fine! No overprotective sisters nEeDED-

Stumbling and tripping a bit, Y/N tumbled to the floor, dropping her crutches. Thankfully because she had her cast on, there was no more pain, but the sound of the fall did wake her sisters up.

“Oh my god!” Alex said, immediately getting out of sleepy mode. She sprang up, while Kara was still waking up, and went to go help Y/N. “Are you hurt? Why are you up?”

Kara followed Alex and picked up Y/N, carrying her back to the couch. Y/N couldn’t argue, because now they had a reason to be protective.

“I took a bath, then tripped on the way back here,” Y/N said, letting Alex move her leg so it was being propped up by the pillow again.

“Why didn’t you wake us, huh?” Kara asked, playing with her hair.

“I know you two didn’t get much sleep. Wanted to let you rest,” Y/N said.

Alex smiled. “Always wake us, sis,” she said.

Y/N nodded. “Could I, uh, get some ibuprofen?” She asked sheepishly.

“Of course,” Kara said, standing up to get it. Alex sat down and put an arm around Y/N, giving her a side-hug.

“It’s time for you to rest, Y/N,” Alex said when Y/N took the ibuprofen.

————————————————

They turned on another movie and halfway through, Alex looked over. She couldn’t help her smile when she saw Y/N asleep, head drooping forward. The brunette grabbed the remote and turned the television off.

“Hey!” Kara protested, when Alex quickly shushed her and pointed to Y/N.

Kara looked over and had an identical smile, seeing her younger sister. “I’ve heard that ibuprofen makes you sleepy,” she said.

Alex nodded. “This won’t be comfortable,” she said, and carefully pushed Y/N back so her head was leaning against the couch.

“We should get her to bed,” Kara said.

Alex shook Y/N’s shoulder and at her sister’s small sleepy whine said, “We’re gonna take you to bed, little one.”

Y/N made a protesting noise and instead of that, with her eyes still closed, she moved so that her back was against Alex’s side, head on her shoulder, and her legs were on Kara’s lap.

The two older women waited for a moment until it seemed that Y/N had fallen back asleep, and both of them chuckled.

Alex shifted a bit and put her arm around Y/N, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

“She is too cute,” Kara said, throwing a blanket over Y/N.

“I know, right? Adorable,” Alex said, smiling down at their sleeping sister.

Kara brought out her phone and snapped a picture of Y/N, smiling before sending it to their sister’s groupchat.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom gets sick, you try to help. There’s also a pub quiz, some bed sharing, a broken AC and a hot barista.

Themes: Bartender!Tom, singer!reader. Sort of frienemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual attraction but they are both too dumb to realise. General dumbness all around. Idiots in love. Lots of banter.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking and swearing. Smut in future chapters, just general hornyness and pining in this one. Some jealousy, but it’s all harmless.

R E A D    P A R T   O N E    H E R E

When Tom wakes that morning, he swears on all that is holy that he is dying. Every muscle in his body aches and the inside of his throat feels like it’s covered in nettles. Moving hurts, couching hurts, and damn it, fucking breathing hurts. He makes it as far as the kitchen before he collapses on the floor. Indignantly, he admits himself defeated. And so, he crawls back into bed and calls Harrison.

“Yeah?” He hears his best friend yawn on the other end of the line, evidently still half asleep.

“Haz” Tom croaks.

“You alright mate?” Haz asks, and Tom can hear the ruffling of bed-sheets in the background.

“Think I have a cold”

“You sound like a dying seagull.”

Tom snorts, but then winces. Snorting hurts as well. “Yeah, well, feel like one too. So, what we gonna do?”

“What do you mean, what we gonna do?”

“About today, I can’t come in, but maybe one of you can come over with the paper work and I’ll do th-“

“Oh, fuck off Tom!” Haz manages to sound both aggravated and amused as he scolds his old friend. “We can do without you for a few days, yeah? Just fucking rest up for once, will you?”

Tom wants to thank him, wants to say he appreciates his friend looking after him but speaking really does hurt and it’s too early for sentimentalities, so he settles for an ‘yeah, yeah’ and a ‘fuck off’ instead. Harrison just laughs at him and they hang up.

It takes him less than one minute to fall asleep again.

*

He waves with his arms and legs around him, wildly disorientated, but his limbs seem to have tangled up in the sheets and before he knows it, he rolls out of the bed, and lands face-down on the hard floor. Tessa barks at the door and Tom concludes that this must have been the noise that woke him. He untangles himself from the sheets and stands up, before quickly sitting down again. The world around him spinning in a nauseating way. Slowly he makes his way across the bedroom and through the living room.

Holding Tessa back, he opens the door, but when the dog sees who it is she tears herself free to great you.

“Hi Tess” you say, in a voice so sweet it makes Tom want to whimper. You scratch Tessa behind her ears and she licks your cheek in a thank you. Laughing, you stand up to great him, less sweetly.

“Sicko”

Tom huffs, “be nice to me, everything hurts” he says and honestly, he meant it to come out a lot manlier and a lot less pouty.

“Poor baby” you coo mockingly, and he huffs again.

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to be your fairy godmother, but, you know, wearing a miniskirt”.

Automatically he looks down at what you’re wearing. “No, you’re not” he says, and he can’t quite keep the disappointment out of his voice. “You are wearing sweats”. Marine blue sweats in fact, that look unusually loose on you and very much familiar to him. “Actually, you’re wearing my sweats!”

And what a sigh for sore eyes you are in them.

You smile at him, mischievously. “Borrowed them from you when you let me stay over”.

“Is it technically borrowing if you never ask for them and then never return them? Is that not just theft?”

“Is it technically a good idea to accuse me of stealing when I’m here to play hot nurse?”

And Tom wants to answer something witty back, but he’s too tired and the room is starting to fade at the edges. He hears you swear and then your arms are around him, and he leans against you as you lead the way back to his bed. Helping him lay down on it you pick up the sheets from the floor and you lay them on top of him, tucking him in. You lean in to pull a lock of his hair back, feeling his warm forehead. Your skin feels cool and soft against his burning skin, so he reaches up his hand and wraps it around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.

“Have you taken anything?” you ask, and your voice is softer now, less teasing. He shakes his head, too tired to even keep his eyes open. “Alright” you say. “Well, I’ll go get you some Ibuprofen and water and then you can rest.” Tom hums in content.

“Honey?” you add, and he hums again. “Sweetheart, you need to let go of my hand or I can’t leave”.

He wants to say that that is precisely the point, but his fever really isn’t high enough for those kinds of confessions. Instead he lets go of your wrist and listens to you walk away. Some minutes later your back, helping him into a sitting position and when he sticks out his tongue you place the white pill on it and he swallows it down with the water you serve him.

You place the glass on his bedside table but when you try to stand up to leave Tom’s arm tighten around your waist. “No” he whines, sounding very much like a disgruntled child. He leans against your shoulder, his body warm and his hair soft against your cheek. He sighs happily. Your heart flutters in your chest and you have to remind yourself that this is just because he is sick. He’d be just this clingy if it was Harry or Sam coming to check up on him. You place the back of your hand against his warm and clammy forehead again and he sighs in relief.

“Tommy, I have to walk Tessa”.

He groans, and you can’t help but smile. Your heart keeps on fluttering in your chest. With a gentle but firm hand you remove his arm and he whines as you help him lay down again. You stroke away stray another stray curl from his clammy forehead. “Be right back” you say, and almost unable to stop yourself you press a kiss on the top of his head.

A very grateful Tessa  happily struts alongside you through the park, tail wagging and nose sniffing after squirrels. The early morning air is crisp and cold and you’re grateful for the stolen borrowed hoodie you’re wearing. When you come back to the apartment you feed Tessa before heading back into Tom’s bedroom. At first glance he looks to be asleep and you turn to leave him alone, maybe even to head to the bar for a few hours and then come back later to check on him. But his voice stops you in your track.

“Stay” he says, and his voice breaks. He pats the spot next to him in bed. “Please?”

And it’s the whiny way he says that last word that does you in. So, you climb into bed and you lay next to him. He’s looking at you now, warm and sleepy brown eyes gazing into yours and your heart stutters in your chest. This is unfamiliar territory. Soft and tender and strangely intimate and so far removed from your normal sarcastic banter. He sighs happily and snuggles up closer to you. Taking in a deep breath. “You always smell so nice” he says, voice raspy but content. Your heart keeps on fluttering in your chest and you remind yourself that he only says these things because he is sick. These are not his real feelings. This is the fever speaking. “And you can keep my hoodie, it looks better on you, I like on you”.

“Go to sleep, Tommy”.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He sounds so unsure, so unlike himself and something uncomfortable tugs in your chest.

“Yeah, I’ll still be here” you say and you kiss his forehead again.

He sighs one last time, seemingly relieved. “Okay then”. And he drifts off to sleep

*

Three days pass and you nurse him and you take care of Tessa. Every now and then Sam, Harry or Harrison calls to leave an update on the pub, reassuring Tom that nothing has in fact burned down. Yet.

You call Sam occasionally, as you try to cook for you and Tom and with the patience of a saint he guides you along and he even manages to not make any sarcastic comments when he finds your cooking skills especially lacking.

“But, it’s toasts” he says after an alarmingly long silence.

“Yes, well, I grew up on a tour bus and in hotel rooms, the only thing I know how to make is instant coffee and watery tea.

“But it’s toasts” he repeats, still stunned. 

“Yes Sammy, darling, I know.”

He sighs “well, you know the toaster?” And you’re impressed that he manages to keep sarcasm out of his voice as he asks, a feat Tom never would have managed.

“Yes, the toaster. The thing you shouldn’t throw into a bathtub if someone’s having a bath. Excellent murder weapon. You telling me it makes breakfast too?” You’re only joking of course. Sort of.

Stunned silence again and then,

“Yeah, that’s the one”.

Later when Tom thinks back on those three days he remembers soft hands stroking away hair from his forehead, a soft chest where he rests his head, an arm slung around his waist slowly stroking patterns on his back. He remembers the scent of you, familiar and lovely. He thinks back, and he thinks of comfort. He thinks back, and he remembers the feeling of deep content and

Love.

So, the following few days he tries to put some distance between you two. Tries to stay away until he can remember how it feels to not love you. But he wonders if that’s ever been the case. He can’t think of a single moment when he hasn’t at least wanted you.

So, he keeps in the back, does the paper work and lets Harry handle the bar, fuck, he does any job, even the inventory, just to keep out of the main room. It changes nothing, if anything it just makes the longing in his chest grow.

But a few days later, he finds he needs a new tactic.

The phone wakes him that morning and it’s Harrison, with a voice so hoarse it sounds like it’s been mangled. He’s sick. Tom tells him to take it easy and rest up. Not even five minutes later Harry calls, sounding just the same. When he tells Tom that Sam too isn’t feeling well Tom wants to scream. But he doesn’t, because it’s up to him to keep it together. So, he tells Harry to rest up and that Sam should do the same and then he hangs up.

All the way to the pub he thinks things over, desperately trying to come up with a plan. When he arrives, he finds you on the doorstep, soaking up some early sunshine, looking happy and content with life. When you see his face however worry settles over your features.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sam, Harry and Harrison are all sick” he grunts, locking up and letting you inside first.

“Oh” you say, and your frown deepens. “Can you keep it open on your own?”

Tom sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. “Maybe? Not the kitchen though, and that’s where we make most of the money”.

“What if I cooked?”

Tommy snorts, feeling genuine amusement for the first time that day. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Sam told me about the toaster. Seriously Pop princess?”

You glare at him. But then lightning strikes you. “One second, I might have the solution, I need just make a call” and you head out on the street again.

A few minutes later you’re back, with a big grin on your face. “Okay, so I called my old tour chef, he lives here in London, and he can come in and help out for the day. So, he keeps the kitchen open and you handle the bar and I act waitress, sounds good?”

Tom just stares at you in disbelief for a second before answering. “Yeah, sounds grand. You goddamn miracle worker. Just one thing, have you ever been a waitress?”

“No, of course i haven’t” You snort. “I’ve never had a job in my life. I’ll figure it out though”.

And so, the next few days goes. Tuwaine is an excellent chef and he and Tom get along like a house on fire from the start. Tom handles the bar with his usual expertise and you drown ungodly amounts of coffee to keep up with the orders.

“How many have you had?” Tom asks, alarm in his voice, late on the evening on the third night as the orders to the kitchen starts to drizzle out.

“Three” you answer, your foot tapping the floor as you stand behind the bar next to Tom.

“That can’t be true” Tom says accusingly. “I’ve seen you drown at least four cups since this morning”.

“Three litres”.

Tom stares at you, genuine horror on his face. “Jesus Christ” he mutters under his breath. “How are you even alive?”

“Would you rather I drink vodka?”

Seemingly dumbstruck he just stares at you for several seconds before answering. “Those are not the only two options? Have some goddamn water for a change, yeah?”

“You know, you were a lot more agreeable when you were sick” you pout.

“Where do you even get the coffee? I know for a fact that you can’t make it”.

“Jake’s” you answer with a smile.

Tom snorts, trying to hide his annoyance. Jake’s Coffeehouse  is the very cool, very hipster coffee place just next door. Jake himself looks like a hipster yoga instructor with his bulging muscles and his manbun and perfectly groomed beard. He can also talk to literally anyone about various coffee beans for longer than should quite frankly be legal.

“So that’s why you drink so much coffee, it’s to meet Jake”.

You roll your eyes at him. “No, it’s because the coffee’s good. Peruvian coffee bea-“

But you’re interrupted (and Tom thanks his lucky star because he’s about as interested in going into a conversation with you about coffee beans as you are to enter a chat about golf) by a customer at the bar, ordering a whiskey.

“Sure thing” you tell the man with a smile and bend down to pick up a bottle from under the bar. Tom tries not to look, honestly, he does, but you bend over right in front of him and he would have to be super human not to.

He’s certain that the perfect form of your ass hugged tightly by your black waitress skirt as you lean over will be imprinted on his mind for the rest of his miserable life.

He shifts uncomfortably and looks away.

*

“I want you to un-ban me from quiz night”

“No.”

“Please”

“There’s literally no way.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Nope, haven’t the faintest, not a single clue”.

“Oh, really? Really? You’ve forgotten that you got so upset over someone not knowing who A.A Milne was that you shouted ‘you joyless, fucking clown’ at him, and he, looking like an extra out of fucking Prison Break didn’t take too kindly to that and when he threatened you, you challenged him by saying, and I quote ‘fucking fight me then, you illiterate prick’ even though -”

“I have no memory of this what so ever.”

“- Even though, and I think you will agree with me on this one, you have the fighting ability of the average bumblebee with a damaged wing – “

“You must have confused me with another gal, mate”.

“- And then, and this is the most unbelievable part, you walked over to him, like you were actually going to fight him, and you challenged him in a fucking gun duel.“

“You sure you weren’t dreaming this?”

“I think the exact words you used were ‘you and me, pistols at dawn, babe’.”

You blink up at him.

"You don’t remember that, do you?” he asks, half teasing, half annoyed.

“I remember you very gallantly saving me from myself and carrying me off before I could cause myself or him any serious damage and then banning that bloke from your pub, yes. But, I admit to no wrongdoing whatsoever and I’d like to be un-banned from quiz night.”

“Do you remember 'that bloke’ breaking one of my tables in protest?”

“Well, what’s a pub without a brawl every once in a while, besides, I did pay you back for that”.

“No way are you allowed to come”.

“Please?”

“Never gonna happen”.

“Oh, you know I’ll just pester Harrison until he lets me in otherwise!”

“Not a chance.”

“Please, Tommy” You beg in a soft voice “I’ll sing you a song? I’ll sing it just for you.”

*

It’s quiz night and Tom has a headache before it even begins.

You are, however, overjoyed. Having joined Harry, Paddy and his mother’s team, with a pint in your hand, you’re all ready to go. Tom and Harrison are over at the bar, serving drinks to enthusiastic guests queuing up. Tom’s father is getting ready to host the quiz, reading through his questions, excitement in his steps as he strives backwards and forwards behind the bar, getting in his sons' way. The pub is packed and a buzz of excitement fills the air.  

“Relax” Harrison tells him. “She’ll be fine, she’d never cause a scene in front of Paddy, you know”.  

“Yeah, I know” Tom mutters and pour a pint for the man next in line. “It’s just, well it’s just hard not to worry about her.”  

Harrison rolls his eyes but somehow finds it within him not to take the mickey out of his friend.

*

“What is the capitol of Iceland?”  

All around them the various teams put their heads together to discuss the answer.

“Easy” Paddy announces.

“Yeah? What is it then?” his older brother asks.

“Reykjavík” Paddy answers, proudly.

“Sure” says Harry, “but how on earth do you spell that?”  

Paddy looks taken aback at that and his mother laughs before spelling it out for them. You smile at them all, and take a sip from your pint. It's nice, being around a family, hearing everyday chit chat and bickering. So normal for them and so unusual for you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket for the 30th time that night and you know it’s your manager, pestering you with questions about the upcoming, so far non existing, new album. You ignore it.

“Alright, and the next question, which year did the first episode of EastEnders air?”

“1985” you answer immediately and Harry stares at you in disbelief.

“How on earth do you know that, and for the love of god, why?”

You just shrug and down the rest of your pint. Harry shakes his head in disapproval but jots down the answer.

“And the next question is, and ladies and gentlemen this one is a bit obscure” Dom smiles before continuing. “Henry VIII introduced which tax in England in 1535?”

“A beard tax” you answer immediately.

Harry stares at you in disbelief again. “Why do you know that?”

“Look” you say, looking him dead in the eye. “The more absolutely useless and random facts I can memorise and use up storage for in my brain, the less I’ll be able to remember about my own life”.

“Sometimes” Harry starts, pointing his pen at you. “Sometimes I feel like every five minutes I spend talking to you I need to add fifteen minutes of therapy”.

You stick your tongue out at him and Paddy laughs. Over at the bar Tom observes your table, a fond smile on his face as he pours another pint for a costumer.  

“Hi, do you have any Pabst Blue Ribbon?”

Tom looks up at the next person in line to the bar. It’s fucking coffee-Jake.

“Sure” he answers and hands him a can.

“Thanks, mate” Jake answers with a smile. Then he sees you and waves at you with an even bigger grin on his face. You wave back, happily smiling.

“Prick” Tom mutters under his breath, following Jake with a murderous glare as the hipster makes his way across the room, squeezing himself in the booth beside you.

Harrison rolls his eyes again.

*

“See” you tell him as you help clean up after the quiz. Harrison and Harry have just shown the last pub guests out and are now helping Sam with the washing up in the kitchen. Tom’s parents left with Paddy moments before. “I didn’t get into a single argument!” You say proudly as you stack the chairs up on the tables.  “And!” you add excitingly “I even remembered to say mother duckling instead of mother fucker!”

Without looking at him you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. “I mean, no one else started a fight either, but sure, congratulations”. Tom answers and you hear the amusement in his voice.  

“Ha! I just meant to point out that you were overreacting in the way you tried to ban me in the first place”.  

“Sure, sure” he says and helps you with the last chair. You try very hard not to stare at his bulging biceps as he lifts it almost effortlessly up on the table. You fail. He’s standing so close to you, and all you want to do is reach out and touch him.

”Want me to walk you home?”

“Sure” you answer, looking away.  

He goes to the kitchen and you can hear him telling the others that it’s their turn to close the pub and that he’s leaving. You hear a ‘fuck off then’ from Harry. Tom comes back, and he helps you with your coat and then you walk out into the night.  

There are no paparazzi out tonight, but the streets are not empty. Some 20 meter in front of you a gang of youth are occupying the stairs to a building. They’re smoking and sharing a bottle of liquor. They seem harmless enough but Tom wraps an arm protectively around your shoulders as you pass. He leaves it there for the rest of the walk and when you get to your door you kiss his cheek and thank him and you want to invite him inside, but before you get the chance to say the words he’s hurried back out into the night.

***

“Oh, come on! You must have a pickup line, everyone has!”

Tom shakes his head in disbelief and amusement. “Really, pop star? Everyone? What’s yours then?”

He’s refilling the bar and making sure everything is stocked for the day. Sweat is gleaming on his forehead as he carries in a heavy box filled with bottles of Irish whiskey. He had come in that morning and found the air-condition to be out of order, and today was predicted to be the hottest day this summer.

You’re sitting on your regular bar-stool in a vintage summer dress, looking like you belong on the cover of Vogue, sipping on an ice-cold milk-shake. He thinks you’ve never seemed more out of his league.  

“You don’t want to know, believe me” you reply him, a teasing smile on your painted red lips.

He looks up at you then, interest written all over his face. “Oh, come on now, unburden your heart, what’s your chat-up line?”

You meet his curious eyes and smile around the straw as you drink some strawberry milk-shake before you answer. “It’s really bad” you warn him.

“Alright, so I’m not to expect Shakespeare then. Well, what is it?” He watches as you hollow your cheeks and suck in more milkshake. He wipes his forehead with a rag.

God it’s hot in here.

From your handbag you pick up a cherry Chapstick and put it on your lips. You smack them together and giggle. “Oh! My lips taste just like cherries!” you exclaim. Then you look him straight in the eyes and in a low voice you add. “Want a taste?”

Toms eyes fall on your red lips and he can’t seem to be able to look away. Not until you laugh, a light and airy and joyous laugh. Then he snaps out of it. “Still got it” you tease and wink at him playfully. Then your cherry red lips wrap around the straw and you suck, all the while looking at him, eyes sparkling.

Tom makes a mental note to stay well hidden behind the bar for a while.  

“Fucking hell!” Harry exclaims as he and Sam enters the pub. “Christ Tom, mind turning the AC on?”

You see Tom rolling his eyes and you can’t help but giggle.

“Nah, personally I like working in a sauna”

Harry takes a look at you and smiles at Tom. “Oh, I see, it’s the old classic trick, innit? You’ve turned up the heat so she’ll take off her clothes, honestly Tom that’s so-” But he doesn’t get to finish the sentence, for Tom has picked up a dirty rag and thrown it at his little brother, and with perfect aim it hits him square in the face. “Show I bit of respect, won’t you?”  

But you’re not offended. You know he’s just joking. But Tom chews his brother out and then orders him to call maintenance to have a look at the AC. Harry looks completely unfaced by the telling off, but the fact that you’re smiling at him behind Tom’s back so that he knows you are not upset probably has a lot to do with it. He walks off to do as he’s told. When he walks pass you you hear him mutter “such an overprotective arse” under his breath.

***

THIS IS NOT REALLY THE BEST, BELIEVE ME, I’M AWARE. FEEDBACK Is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED

[kyber-kisses]

Out Cold

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: sick!reader, some cursing, Dean being a big softie

Summary: after a particularly harsh hunt, the reader returns to the bunker worse than when she left. Dean goes into mother hen mode.

A/n: I know there are about a million fics like this already, but I’m a sucker for em, so I wrote one myself. I hope y’all enjoy! (Gif credit goes to owner.)

“Dean, would you please keep your eyes on the road?” Sam sighed, shifting once more in the backseat as he glanced between You and Dean. The younger brother having been generous enough to let you take his normal seat on the way back from the hunt.

“I’m sorry, but don’t you think this whole thing is weird?” Dean motioned with his freehand at the figure next to him.

“That she’s sitting up front?”

“No!” He quickly shook his head, “She’s asleep. Y/n never sleeps in the car. Ever.”

Sam sunk back in his seat, rolling his eyes, “We just finished up a massive hunt. She’s probably tired, Dean.”

“But I’m telling you, she never sleeps during drives. Even when she is tired.” Taking his eyes away from the road once more, he looked back over at you, your head resting against the window. Even in your unconscious state, your eyebrows were furrowed almost like you were in pain, and your skin looked a shade paler than normal. You mumbled in your sleep, shifting to try and find a more comfortable position.

Yes, something was not right.

“When she wakes up, I’ll ask her.” Dean sighed, eyes going back to the road, his concern clear on his face, allowing Sam to see it in the rear view mirror.

Dean was always worrying about you though. There was nothing new about that.

*. *. *. *. *.

You were out cold for the remainder of the drive, which only allowed Deans worry to grow. Sam passed out eventually, leaving Dean in total silence as he drove the final stretch back to the bunker, the clock on the dashboard telling him it was close to one in the morning. The almost orange glow of the passing street lamps illuminating your face as he drove down the empty streets of Lebanon. The only noise coming from the engine and the soft drone of the radio turned down low.

You always said this was your favorite time. The world was quiet and peaceful. It was one of the reasons you always stayed up during drives. You liked watching the chaotic world fizzle out and get replaced with this dark serenity. But for once, you were unconscious and missing it.

Eventually the wheels of the impala rolled into the bunkers garage and the vehicle was put into park and turned off, the normal hum of the engine now gone and replaced with total silence. The change being enough to shake Sam awake.

“She still out?” He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat upright.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, pocketing his keys as he turned to look at you. In proper lighting, he could now see how pale you really looked, along with the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. “Just go to bed. I’ll take care of her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence before the familiar click of the door opening, Sam sliding out of the backseat with his duffel and lazily making his way into the depths of the bunker. It wasn’t long after that Dean climbed out of his seat, walking around the hood of the car to open your door.

At the sound, you shifted again, slightly opening your eyes to quickly see where you were. The only thing catching your hazy thoughts was the set of green eyes looking at you with worry.

“Are we home?” You mumbled, still trying to chase the sleep that was settled heavy over you.

“Yeah, we’re home.” Dean smiled, squatting down to your level, “how you feeling?”

“tired.”

The hunter shifted on the balls of his feet, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, “Jeez, y/n. You’re burning up.”

You let out a yawn, eyes closing as you leaned into his touch, his skin so much cooler than your own. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, try again.” Dean huffed, bringing his hand back down to his side, “you’re sick.”

“Mmm no I’m not.”

Dean let out another sigh. It was like talking to a brick wall. “Yes you are. Luckily, you have me though.” He smiled, standing up slightly so he could tuck his arm underneath you, hoisting you out of the vehicle and into his arms, earning a groan of protest from you.

He took his time carrying you down the hallway , trying not to jostle you around too much as you did tend to let out a whine every time he did. He could feel the heat from your skin through his shirt, your head resting in the crook of his neck. You felt so fragile in his arms, like one false move would make you crumble.

Pushing his back against your slightly ajar door, he stepped into the dark of your room, using one of his elbows to flip the switch. Luckily the heat had been turned off while you were all away from the bunker, leaving your room much cooler than normal. Hopefully that would somewhat help cool you down.

“You just had to go and get sick, didn’t you?” He sighed, being as gentle as possible as he laid you down on the bed.

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. It just hurts me to see you like this.” He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes, feeling the heat radiating off your skin as he did.

“You should go to bed. You’ve been driving for hours and it’s past one in the morning.” You mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. We need to get that fever down. Plus, I’m not tired. I’ll get my four hours eventually.”

“If I wasn’t so weak, I would hit you.” You sighed, shifting your head on the pillow as you closed your eyes.

“Oh, I know you would.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your hand, “I’ll be right back.”

With that, he gave you one last look and departed from your room, disappearing down the dimly lit hallway.

Dean Winchester never ceased to amaze you. He usually gives off a tough exterior, but deep down he was just a big softie. You loved that about him. You never asked him to take care of you, but he always did. There weren’t proper words for how thankful you were for him.

It was only a few minutes later that he returned, a bottle of water and container of ibuprofen gripped in his hands, along with a neatly folded washcloth.

“Alright, sit up.” He sighed, the bed dipping under his weight as he sat down, passing over the water before unscrewing the lid and fishing out a couple pills. You gave him a small thank you, swallowing them down with a generous gulp of water. Another wave of dizziness worked over you, making you lean back with a groan.

“I’m dying aren't I?”

“You’re not dying. Now stop being dramatic.” Dean sighed, leaning forward to press the cool cloth to your head.

“You must like being a mother hen a lot.” You groaned, hand going to rest atop Deans, which still held the cloth to your forehead.

“I do not!” He exclaimed, only to pause, shoulders dropping, “fine, it’s like crack to me.”

“I knew it.” You smiled, sending him a small wink.

“Alright, shut it.” Taking the bottle back off your nightstand he handed it over once more, “You need to keep drinking. We gotta keep you hydrated.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Deans head fell back as he let out a groan, “You're a damn child, you know that?”

“Yes.” You smiled, taking the water bottle from his hand and taking a few more sips. Even if Dean had just sent you a small smile, you could see the worry on his features. Lowering the bottle from your lips, you set it back down. “You don’t need to worry, Dean. I’m just a little sick. Happens to the best of us.”

“I can’t help it. I’m always worrying about you.” He admitted slowly, taking your hand and pressing a firm kiss to it.

You felt your heart skip in your chest at his action, and then the added heat growing to your face. He was so gentle. So caring. And no matter how long you had known him, it still amazed you.

When Dean saw the redness creeping up your cheeks, his worry continued to grow. “Woah, are you getting worse?” He questioned, peeling the cloth from you forehead and replacing it with the back of his hand.

You quickly slapped his hand away, instantly regretting it once you saw the hurt expression he was wearing. “I’m sorry. I -“

“No. Don’t apologize. I’ve been bothering you since we got back. Hell, I woke you up.” Dean shook his head, hands falling to his side in defeat. “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, but let me just apologize. I didn’t mean to smack your hand away like that. I just freaked out when I realized you made me blush.”

You watched his expression change, his eyebrows knitting together, “what did I do exactly to make you blush?” He mused, giving you a small grin.

Damn him. Damn him and his big green eyes and childish grin. He was going to be the death of you.

“I’ve said too much already.” You groaned, taking the extra pillow besides you and pressing it over your face, hiding your new found embarrassment. Your plan didn’t last long, because you heard him let out a light chuckle, his fingers wrapping around the pillow and prying it from your face.

“Oh, don’t go hiding from me now. I still gotta take care of my patient.” He smiled, giving you that soft gaze that always made you feel like a pile of goo.

And then the bastard had the audacity to lean down and press a firm yet gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away, his calloused hand resting on the side of your face making you shiver.

“You cold?”

All you could do was nod, still rendered speechless and scarlet from his gentleness. He pushed off from his seat on the bed, picking up your legs so he could pull your comforter over your now shivering body. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as he did. Your muscles still ached and every little bit of movement had you feeling nauseous.

“I know, I know. Just bear with me Sweetheart.” Dean sighed, sitting back down once the comforter was tucked snugly around you.

“You’re a fucking great human being, you know that?” You yawned, nestling deeper into you comforter in hopes of getting warmer.

“I try.” Dean smiled, kicking off his boots and discarding his jacket as you laid down next to you, gently wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Dean, you’re gonna get sick if you stay.” You mumbled, finding it impossible to not curl into the warmth he was giving you. You didn’t want him to get sick.

But he was so warm. . . And he smelled so good.

“I don’t care. You’re stuck with me.” He sighed, closing his eyes once he was comfortable, “now go to sleep. You need rest.”

“Okay, but if you get sick, both Sam and I are gonna beat your ass.” You yawned again, tucking your head against his chest as sleep quickly found you once more.

*. *. *. *. *.

Sam has to do a double take the next morning as he walked past your open door, which was usually always closed. Shifting the books that were in his hand, he backtracked, tilting his head in confusion as looked into your room.

The lights were still on, but both you and Dean were out cold. His brother was wrapped tightly in your comforter, shivering even in his unconscious state while you were sprawled out next to him, having kicked off the sheets in the middle of the night.

In simple words: you both looked like crap.

The younger Winchester let out a sigh, rubbing his face, “So it looks like I’m gonna have to take care of both of you now, huh?”

He should have known this would happen. When it came down to you and him, Dean couldn’t help but go into full mother hen mode. . . and unfortunately that sometimes resulted in the idiot going and getting himself in the same exact mess.

The End.

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[imagine-darksiders]

Yooo, so I know a long time ago, you wrote a scenario where I think death and Draven were trying to help the human with her period. She was having bad cramps and needed pads and such. Do you still have that story? Lol, I’ve been looking through the tags, but can’t seem to find it (I’m also on my period, so I was reminded of the story and how good it was lol)

Oh yeah! The format was all weird on the old post, but hopefully it’s righted itself on this one.

War: The youngest rider of the apocalypse was slowly coming to learn that humans are far tougher than he’d initially considered. Specifically those humans who have a uterus.

“Oh, come on! Shit. There’s got to be some around here.”

War jerks his head to the side when yet another empty and slightly singed cardboard box goes sailing past his head. He raises a snowy eyebrow down at the offending object as it thuds softly against a shelf of mismatched bottles. Upon inspection, some of the oddly coloured containers have words like ‘shampoo’, ‘conditioner’ and the like. Truly, humans are bewildering.

The horseman’s other eyebrow rises to join its twin as he turns to peer down at you curiously.

“Y/n?” he pipes up, “What are you doing?”

The deep, rumbling voice of your travelling companion doesn’t disturb you from your search aside from tossing your head over a shoulder to look back at him and grumble, “Just looking for something. Won’t be a minute.”

War frown and tilts his hooded head to one side. You’d been ‘just looking for something’ in every single human supermarket you’d come across for the past two days. Something is clearly wrong, but no matter how much he probes, you seem reluctant to divulge anything to him.

Another small box bounces uselessly off his chest and he throws it a cursory scowl before stepping up behind you. He’s about to protest your vague answer when suddenly, you hiss and double over, clutching at your stomach and letting out a string of breathless expletives under your breath.

That in itself would be cause enough to alarm the hulking horseman. But what really rankles him, is that when you’d bent over, he caught a flash of something highly concerning and terribly familiar.

“Y/N!” the horseman barks, raising his hands calmingly, “Don’t move.”

You freeze in your spot, panic suddenly shooting up from your stomach and into your chest.

“Oh god. What? What is it!? Is there something on me? War? What’s wrong!?”

Honestly, you expected him to pull some kind of hideously mutated bug from your shoulder. What you didn’t expect, was for him to huff at you and press his enormous hand on your back, keeping you in place and growling, “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d been wounded?” equal parts frustrated and concerned.

At his exclamation, you pale and shoot a glance back at him before you spot where his gaze is directed. With a curse, you stand up straight and slip out from beneath his hand, twisting yourself painfully around to see if-

“Damn it,” you seethe, “I really liked these trousers.”

War allows his mouth to drop open in a wide gape. Here you are, a small, frail little human, losing precious lifeblood and in obvious pain, but the object of your concern is none other than your clothing. He shakes his head and steps closer to you again. 

“If you are injured, allow me to-”

“Hey! Woah there!” you shout, jumping back from the approaching horseman and swatting his hovering hands away, “I’m not injured, I’m just….you know… “

Scowl deepening, War grunts at you questioningly and continues his advance. It takes you a second to realise that he does not, in fact, know.

“Wait….You don’t…” Your face falls incredulously with a hint of mild agony thrown in the mix as a fresh wave of cramps suddenly thrums in your abdomen.

You really do not have the time to explain anatomy to a clueless horseman.

You wave your hands dismissively in the air. “Okay, look. I’ll explain what’s going on, but I really need you to help me find a full box of these.” One of the box-projectiles is held up in front of the horseman’s face. He squints at the bright, eye-catching writing on the side and his lips twist around the foreign word.

“Tampons?”

You click your fingers and point at him excitedly. “That’s the one.” 

War casts his gaze around for a moment, then, his eyes land on something on the very top shelf, set far back from the edge. He reaches out and takes it up delicately in his large, gauntleted hand then pouts down at it and gives it a gentle shake. Definitely full.

The horseman passes the box down to you and waits with bated breath as you inspect his find. He almost blanches when you suddenly cry out.

“YES! YES, WAR! These are-” You clutch the prized possessions to your chest and beam up at him, “-These are perfect. Thank you!”

His chest swells with pride.

“Alright,” you shove the tampons into your rucksack and place your hands on your hips, “Ready for code red. I’ll need to find a bathroom soon.” 

“Code red?” War squints in confusion and pulls his lips back, exposing his teeth when he remembers that, essentially, you are still bleeding. Humming, you grimace up at his befuddled expression.

“Riiiight, I still owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

He nods urgently.

“Okay, I’ll explain while we try to find some Ibuprofen,” you rumble, placing a hand on your back and wincing at the ache there. War’s vibrant eyes catch the look of discomfort on your face and he immediately starts to pick up boxes, peering down at the faded little words that he doesn’t recognise. “Eye-eyeboop….?” he trails off and stares down at you apologetically. You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Come on, it won’t be here, it’ll be in the pharmaceuticals.” Placing your delicate hand on his own, metal arm, you steer the giant horseman out of the isle and launch into what’s sure to be a painful explanation.

That night, your period hit you full force. It alarmed War to no end when you’d suddenly shot up from your seated position next to the fire you’d built and went hurtling behind a rusted transit van whilst shouting, “I’m alright! Don’t follow me, I’ll be right back!”

Naturally, War had gotten up to follow after you, but another scream of, “Don’t you dare come around this van!” had him freezing in place and pacing impatiently.

After only a minute or so, you return, sporting a miserable expression and an exhausted gait.

You collapse on the ground once again, turning to look up at War when he thuds down next to you.

“Code…code red?” he asks, testing the unfamiliar phrase on his tongue. You simply nod and pull your rucksack out from underneath you, rustling through it until you find a bottle of half-drunk water and a small, white painkiller. War was the one to find it, in the end. Only after you’d all but fallen down into a weeping heap before you even made it to the medical supplies. He’d….admittedly lost his cool a bit and started to frantically scour the shelves for the odd pills whilst you sobbed miserably.

In the end, he hadn’t allowed you to walk back to the camp.

Now, you couldn’t be more thankful to the Red Rider if you’d tried. He looks on edge, unsure of himself for once, and thoroughly out of sorts. He wouldn’t admit it to you, but he hated the fact that you were hurt and he hadn’t been able to stop it.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when your head suddenly rests against his arm and you sigh tiredly.

“This sucks. First the end of the world and now this.”

Your hands fall on your stomach and begin to massage it. “Thanks for your help, War.”

He grunts in reply, raising his arm so that you fall against his side instead, then he allows it to fall back to the ground, pinning you against him slightly.

“You should rest over the coming days,” he rumbles.

Your eyes flicker up to him, “War, no. I can’t ask you to put your revenge quest on hold for me.”

“The Destroyer can wait,” the horseman argues softly, “If you bleed out-”

“War, I told you, I’m not going to bleed out,” you scoff.  He simply grumbles quietly, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

For close to an hour, you both sit and stare into the fire. War is as alert as ever, ears pricked and hand resting close to Chaos Eater, just in case. You, however, begin to feel your eyes droop. The painkillers have finally begun to work and the distinct lack of pain coupled with the horseman’s warm half-embrace is enough to tempt you closer to sleep.

Reluctantly, you make to stand up, hoping to get to your bedroll before you collapse, but you’re surprised when War suddenly tightens his hold on you and shakes his head. Surprised, but too tired to argue, you thump back down into the nook at his side and rest your head back against the broad chest.

War offers no explanation for his sudden clinginess, nor do you ask for one. Instead, you simply smile up at him, which he doesn’t return, choosing to furrow his brow at you and demand, “Sleep.”

You’re only too happy to oblige.

Death and Draven: Well it had to happen eventually. It had been a little under a month since you’d literally come crashing down upon the eldest horseman’s head, that fateful day after the apocalypse. But really? The Eternal throne? Certainly not the best location for a period to strike. Still, as you’d said -

It had to happen eventually.

Death stalks across the courtyard towards the Chancellor, who sneers at the approaching horseman. You, however, manage to make it about halfway around the training circle that Draven and his spectre apprentices occupy before you’re suddenly hit with the sensation of getting sucker-punched in the gut.

“Holy shiiiiiit,” you whine loudly, “Death?”

The horseman pauses mid stride, tossing an irritable look over his shoulder, but the irate glare quickly fades into an uneasy frown as he takes in the washed-out pallor of your face. He elects to ignore the Chancellor’s barked question, instead turning on his heel and making his way back across the courtyard.

Behind you, a gruff voice asks you if you’re alright. Then, a large, spectral hand lands on your shoulder and before you know it, Draven is looming at your back with his brow bones knitted together, concerned. It suddenly dawns on you that the undead warrior used to be a human himself. Perhaps if anyone were to understand, it would be him. You cast the approaching horseman a wary glance and take note of how many residents of the Eternal Throne have stopped what they’re doing to watch. You cower self-consciously backwards into Draven’s chest and whisper up to him. “So, you know that….thing, that happens to a woman every month or so?” Trailing off, you crane your neck backwards to look up at the undead. He casts you a quizzical look for a moment, tilting his head to the side. All it takes is an expectant raise of your eyebrows and suddenly, it hits him.

“Oh…OH!” The Blademaster’s loose jaw nearly unhinges in disbelief. “You mean, right now, you’re…?”

You nod desperately as Death finally joins the both of you. If you’d been paying proper attention to the horseman and not the excruciating pain in your abdomen, you might have noticed how he bristles when Draven wraps a protective arm around your shoulders and leans close to your ear to whisper something.

“Undercroft?” the man murmurs.

You sigh with relief and affirm, “Undercroft.”

Draven hums before giving you a gentle squeeze and nudging you towards Death.

“Take Y/n down into the Undercroft,” he tells the horseman, who looks as though he’s about to object to being ordered around by the undead, but Draven continues, “S'in the kid’s best interest. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he turns to fix a ghostly eye on the onlookers.

“Don’t recall telling you lot to stop training!” he barks fiercely. “G'wan! Get back to it!”

Death replaces Draven’s arm with one of his own, draping it around your shoulders and smirking when the other undead all fall over themselves trying to pretend they hadn’t been gawking at you.

“Would you care to tell me what’s going on?” the horseman mutters in a hushed tone. You open your mouth to reply but bite your tongue when a stab of fresh pain lances through your stomach. So instead, you groan and hobble towards the undercroft with a highly confused Death in tow.

—---

Down in the storage room beneath the Dead King’s throne room, the horseman gently guides you to sit down on a pile of mouldy old cloth. It smells like the dead, but then again, that isn’t exactly unusual in this realm. Besides, right now, it’s the most comfortable place in the universe.

You briefly bring Death up to speed on your anatomy and what’s going on, and when you do, you’re surprised to see him violently smack his open palm against the side of his head, hissing to himself, “Of course, how could I have forgotten. Idiot.”

As it turns out, Death is all too aware of this particular plight.

He mumbles an apology and slumps down onto the rags beside you.

“Is there…” he hesitates, coughing before asking, “…anything I can do?”

You swing your head towards him slowly and blink, smiling a tired smile.

“Got any painkillers in your Mary Poppins bag?”

He snorts. This isn’t the first time you’d likened him to this ‘Mary Poppins’ character.

Unfortunately for you, he shrugs. “Fresh out, I’m afraid.”

“Oh well,” you say with a wince. “Can’t have everything, I guess.”

The horseman beside you hums in agreement, then turns to face you properly, shifting around on his knees.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

You meet his gaze with a bewildered frown. But, hesitantly, you gesture to your entire stomach. “All over. Head, back, stomach mostly.”

There’s a responding hum, then a large, cold hand is placed firmly over your stomach and starts to rub in small, gentle circles.  

Of course, you flinch away, mostly due to the supernatural chill of his skin, but when you recognise that he’s actually trying to be considerate, you fall still and watch him, astonished.

The horseman doesn’t meet your curious eyes in favour of staring down at your stomach in mock concentration until there’s the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs.

As if it’s become a natural reflex, Death suddenly throws his arm out in front of you and whips his head around to the source of the noise but he relaxes the moment he sees it’s only Draven.

“How’re you doing?” the warrior asks when he spots you and the horseman sitting at the back of the storage room.

A quick glance at Death, then you look back to Draven and smile up at him.

“Better now, thanks. Where’ve you been?”

The pain in your stomach flares up again, causing you to curl in on yourself a little more and snap your legs shut for fear that your trousers could be stained without you realising it. Draven shoots you a look of sympathy, replying, “Went to see the old goat. Thought he might have something that can help.”

Death’s hand returns to your abdomen and begins its gentle, circling motions once again. Meanwhile, you groan and stretch yourself out, trying to find a more comfortable position.

“And?” you grumble.

In response, the Blademaster holds up a familiar packet, so familiar, you could almost weep. You honestly thought you’d seen the last of them since leaving Earth.

“He gave me these,” he grimaces, “Not like any clouts I’ve ever seen, but Ostegoth assured me they were all the rage back on Earth.”

A giggle stirs in you and bursts out before you can stop it. He looks so utterly out of place. If you were a little less tactful, you’d tell him he looked adorable.

But instead, you offer him a grateful smile and hold out your hand to receive the blessed packet of sanitary towels.

“Draven, you are a Godsend. Thank you.”

The Blademaster ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly with a calloused hand. “Dunno about that, I’m just sorry I couldn’t find something to help with the pain,” he laments.

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle and throw your thumb over at Death, “got a horseman for that.”

Said horseman huffs. “I can always stop,” he threatens, lifting his hand slightly.

“Actually,” you shift forwards, getting ready to begrudgingly stand up, “You might have to stop, for now. I need to put one of these on.” You shake the packet in your hand and Death follows you up. He moves to stand next to Draven and they both just stand there, watching you curiously. Peering at them, you clear your throat pointedly and in an instant, both Blademaster and horseman jump, spinning around to avert their eyes and give you some much-appreciated privacy.

You can’t help but to laugh through the pain and shake your head amusedly. Gazing down at the sanitary towels in your hand, you make a mental note to thank Ostegoth profusely and ask him how he managed to get his hands on them at all. You may still be in pain, craving something sugary and wanting to just scream and cry at the same time, but at least you won’t have to worry about leaking. Draven assures you that you can take out any of your frustrations on him, if you’d like while Death says that he can always ‘lend a hand’ should you need it. You smile widely at their backs, glad that they’re so understanding.

[twomoonstwosuns]

sick day.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: swearing, smut in a dream (18+), heavy amounts of fluff

word count: 4.0k

a/n: i’m sorry for the delay, it’s been a weird week. i hopefully won’t make you wait as long for the next part. this is kind of a filler chapter, but i hope you guys enjoy it still! the poe dameron x reader tag hasn’t been working so if you’re missing updates, blame Tumblr. 

also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me when i was stuck <3

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“Baby, fuck you feel so good.”

Poe gripped your hips, sliding you to the edge of his desk and sliding his cock into you. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, grabbing some of his curls in its grasp at the intrusion. Your mouth was on the base of his neck, decorating it with different sized bruises. One particular bite to his pulse with a tight clench of your pussy made him groan loudly and you quickly pulled his mouth down to yours with a tug of his tie.

“Do we have to worry about you being loud?” You breathed heavily. Poe lifted your legs higher up on his waist, the new angle allowing him to drive deeper into you. A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a smirk crossed his face. He leaned down to your ear, taking the shell of hit in his mouth. 

“You know what I’ve thought about?” He said lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he slowed his thrusts. You gave a quiet, strangled moan as a response as he bit down on it. “Taking my tie, tying you up. Completely at my mercy.”

His hand was on the side of your neck, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down the front of your throat. You were a trembling mess, the thought of him putting just a little more pressure there enough to make you come hard right on the spot. 

“I could—fuck yes, Poe—get into that.” Poe’s mouth covered yours, swallowing the sounds coming from you. You giggled against his lips as an item fell off of his desk from the harsh movement against it. 

A knock on his office door made you both freeze, horrified looks on your faces as you looked at each other and then at the door. 

“Just a sec!” Poe yelled before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Get under my desk.”

You both scrambled as quietly as you could, pulling your pants up and fixing your shirts. You tucked yourself underneath his desk, feeling very grateful for the backing on the front of the desk. Poe tamed his hair the best he could as he unlocked his door and opened it, immediately greeting the person on the other side. 

“Ackbar, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, I just wanted to run something by you.” Ackbar said, nodding towards the door handle. “Who are you trying to keep out, Dameron?”

His tone was suggestive, but Poe shut it down with a shake of his head. “Some of my students like to barge in and hang out in here because of my very lenient open door policy and I have several phone calls I’m taking today. Including one in five minutes, so you have to make it quick.”

Ackbar left the door open as he sat down across from Poe’s desk. Poe sat back in his chair, scooting all the way in so his entire lower half was underneath the desk to shield you. 

“So, what’s up?” Poe spoke, providing cover for the movement you were making under his desk to make room for his legs. 

“What do you think about forgoing a final exam for anyone who’s averaging a C in the class?” Ackbar asked. “I mean, if they want to take the final to try and raise their overall grade they can, but if they fail it’ll count against them.”

Poe squirmed in his seat as he felt your hands on his thighs, rubbing slowly and traveling higher. His leg hit the underside of his desk when he felt the vibration of his zipper being slowly pulled down, which he told Ackbar was a muscle spasm. 

“You’re teaching two hundred freshman over four lectures, you sure you want to do that?” Poe said slowly, the attempt to keep his voice level and controlled extremely difficult. 

“It’s definitely less grading for me to do, but I was also thinking that—“

Everything Ackbar was saying was going in Poe’s ear and right out the other as the soft skin of your hand made contact with his cock, applying firm pressure and pumping him. He wasn’t entirely soft yet and a few strokes of your hand brought him back to fully hard. He coughed to cover the groan that almost erupted from him. 

“Here’s my opinion,” Poe said, interrupting Ackbar, sucking in a breath as your thumb brushed over the head of his cock. “I’d do it for seniors but freshman? They’ll most likely take the easy way out and skip it. Don’t let them settle for mediocre grades. Not one of them will willingly take the final.”

“Alright, you’re right.” Ackbar put his hands up in surrender. Poe felt his cock start to tighten up, the thought of coming in your hand under the desk with Ackbar just a few feet away stoking a fire inside him. Instead, Poe felt you carefully tuck him back in his pants and skillfully disguised the deep groan he let out as one of agreement. “You catching the game later?”

“I’m going to try.” Poe looked at his watch. “Sorry man, I have to take a call in a minute.”

“No worries,” Ackbar stood up, Poe doing the same and straightening his shirt so it covered more of his groin area as he walked towards the door. “You wanna grab a beer at Maz’s later? Watch the game?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Ackbar shook Poe’s hand and patted him on the back. “Have fun with those calls. Take it easy, Dameron.”

As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, Poe let out an exasperated laugh. You crawled out from under his desk laughing so hard that you had to lean against his desk to keep yourself from falling over. Poe came around to his desk again, laughing as he plopped back into his chair.  

“I can’t believe you did that,” he said in disbelief, though the smile on his face said he wasn’t the least bit upset about it. 

“Exhilarating though.” You leaned down and pecked his lips, your hands going back to his pants and unbuckling them for the second time as you got on your knees. 

“Let me finish what I started.”

Poe woke with a jolt as a cough rocked through him, groaning at the congested pain it left behind in his chest. His eyes screwed shut and his groan grew louder at how turned on he felt at that moment, knowing he had no energy to take care of it and no energy to enjoy you taking care of it for him. Poe looked up just as you came in, a cup of water in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. You set the items on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back. 

“You ok?”

“No,” he said, shoving his head into the pillow. “I was having a good dream about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Poe pushed his hips into the mattress, looking for relief. You stifled a laugh. “Oh, that kind of dream. Do you want me to help you out?”

“No, ‘m too tired.”

You leaned down to his ear, your voice lowering. “You know, I have those dreams about you too.”

Poe reached over and squeezed your thigh. “Y/N…”

“Baby…” you mocked his whine. Poe shivered and you saw goosebumps appear on his skin. You placed your hand against his forehead and then the cheek that wasn’t resting on the pillow. “You might have a fever, do you have a thermometer?”

“I don’t think so.”

You went into his bathroom and looked for anything that would help. You found some ibuprofen and you helped him sit up enough to swallow them. Pulling the blanket up around him, you leaned down and kissed his head. 

“Sleep. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

You left the door opened a crack, enough to hear if he needed you and for Beebs to come and go as he pleased. He was already snoring by the time you got to his kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. 

You knew Poe wasn’t feeling great when you talked to him the night before and you were surprised when you got an email saying he was canceling class. In the two semesters worth of classes you’d had with him, he’d never canceled a class without notice. You skipped your last class of the day and went straight to Poe’s. He tried to argue with the very little energy he had that you didn’t have to skip class to take care of him, but the minute you got him to lay in bed, he was completely submissive. 

Your phone vibrated in your pocket with an incoming call and you grabbed it to see it was Jessika calling. 

“I’m at the grocery store, do you need anything?”

“Actually yeah, do you mind picking up some things to make soup and dropping them off at Poe’s? He’s sick and he has nothing here to help him feel better.”

“Yeah you bet, send me a text?”

“I will. I’ll send you his address too. Text me when you get here.”

“No problem, see you in a bit.”

You tossed your phone onto the table and grabbed your backpack, setting yourself up on his couch. You had a long list of things that needed to get done, midterms coming up quicker than you were prepared for. You also had to order your robe for graduation so you had time to get it hemmed if needed. But an assignment that was due the next day required your immediate attention. You opened your book and you’re notebook and dove right in. 

Fifteen minutes later and you’d read the same paragraph four times. You alternated between staring at your book and tapping your pen against the page to staring to scrolling through apps on your phone. There was no motivation to do anything productive. What you really wanted to do was curl up with Poe under his blankets and just sleep, but you were already risking getting sick by being there and cuddling with him would pretty much guarantee it. Throwing your stuff aside, you walked over to the shelves that lined Poe’s living room, seeing if there was maybe a book he had that would be far more interesting than reading about marketing and trade shows. You looked through all the titles of his books, some maybe’s coming to your head when you spotted a picture frame stuck between a book and the back of the shelf. You carefully moved the book, grabbing the picture frame and wiping the dust off of the glass. 

He looked just like her. Thick and curly raven-hair sat on top their heads. They shared the same eyes, deep brown like milk chocolate, though hers were just a bit lighter. Their smiles matched, easy and laidback like it took no effort at all. You recognized the ring on her finger as the one worn around Poe’s neck. In the picture, Poe was mid-laugh as his mother carried him on her back, his tiny arms wrapped around her neck and his head against hers. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The way Poe talked about her and seeing the picture that you found, they were clearly very close. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Poe must’ve been when she passed. 

Poe had said he’d forgiven you for what you said, but you still hadn’t forgiven yourself. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know if you’d be able to. 

Your phone vibrated in your hand, the message telling you that Jessika had arrived. You told her the code to enter the building and a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. 

“Thank you so much for doing this,” you said as you opened the door, immediately taking the bag from your roommate. 

“No problem at all.”

Jessika looked around behind you, her eyes curious. You chuckled and held the door open.

“Come on in.”

“Inside a professor’s apartment,” Jessika said as she stepped in. She looked around the room when Beebs came up and jumped on her. You tried to apologize and tell Beebs to stop but Jessika just leaned down and picked him up. 

“Ah, the infamous Beebs,” she laughed as he licked her face. “You really are cute, aren’t you?”

You stepped into the kitchen and put a couple bottles of gatorade in the refrigerator, leaving out the ingredients to start making soup with and digging around the cupboards for the items you’d need to make it. 

“So, what’s he sick with?” Jessika asked. 

“A cold from what I can tell. He doesn’t have a thermometer so I don’t know if he has a fever.”

“How’s he doing?”

You sighed heavily. “Poe’s amazing and wonderful in many ways, but he is still a man who thinks he’s dying because he has a cold.”

“You hear that, Beebs?” Jessika said in Beebs’ pointed ear. “He’s got a man-cold. And they’re supposed to be the superior sex.”

“Yeah, supposed to be.”

Beebs wiggled in her arms and she let him down, watching him walk off. You watched Jessika laugh quietly at the adorable dog before looking back around the apartment, giving a small nod of approval. 

“Hey Jess?” You spoke quietly, your voice hesitant and unsure. You walked over to Jessika, who had been looking at you with a questioning look. “I’m sorry.”

Jessika opened her mouth to speak and you put a hand up. “I’m sorry for being a bitch, for treating you like shit, and taking forever to forgive you. You said things and I said things and even though what you said hurt, it doesn’t mean you’re a terrible person and I’ve been treating you like you were. And I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Jessika replied and you shook your head. 

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I forgive you then. Because I’ve missed you.”

Holding your arms out, Jessika met you in a tight hug. You really had missed her too. She had been there for you when she didn’t have to be, and thinking back you were surprised she was because you felt you had treated her like shit. Beebs jumping up on both your legs trying to be included in the hug tore you apart, Jessika leaning down and scratching his ears. 

“When we’re done with school and all that and it’s fine for you guys to be in public together, I’d really love to sit down with Prof—Poe.” Jessika said, the use of his first name foreign on her tongue but the effort graciously appreciated by her friend. “You know, get to know him. As one of your best friends, it is my job to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll destroy him.”

You chuckled. “I’m sure we could arrange that if you really want to. I’ve met his friends, seems only fair that he gets to know mine.”

“Exactly!” Jessika said. “Alright, I have to get going. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I have class a 7:45a.m and he needs to sleep, so I’ll be back later tonight.”

Jessika squeezed your shoulder as she passed and you thanked her once more before she left. You set to work, setting up everything you’d need and pulling up the recipe saved on your phone. 

Chopping vegetables in your boyfriend’s kitchen was oddly domestic, like you were waiting for him to come home from work and you were cooking dinner. You wondered what you would be doing at that very moment had you not pursued your professor that Halloween night. Would you have given Ben another chance? Would you be in a relationship at all? You pondered the what if’s, yet each scenario couldn’t bring you to the level of happiness that was your reality. You really thought you had lost it all during that fight and you would never go another day without being grateful to Poe for forgiving you.

As you added all the ingredients together, your mind went to the dark place you tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Graduation was just two months away. What was going to happen after your relationship graduated and the lease for your apartment was up and you moved back home? Poe certainly didn’t act like he would dump the relationship just because you were done with school, but you couldn’t help but think that way. You copped it up to having developed a small fear of abandonment, no doubt thanks to the sudden departure of your father. 

Slow, heavy footsteps filled the empty silence as you adjusted the temperature on the cooker. Poe slid his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“You didn’t sleep very long,” you said.

“Can’t sleep anymore. Smells good,” Poe mumbled, leaning into you to see what was in the cooker. You gently bumped your head against his. 

“I’m glad you can smell,” you said. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. My mom used to make it for Tallie and I when we were sick. It’s done now, eat some. You need to eat.”

You moved around each other, him scooping up soup and you grabbing him something to drink. 

“Did I have all of this stuff?” Poe asked, looking at all the ingredients he could see in the soup as he walked to sit on the couch. 

“No, Jessika dropped off stuff. You have nothing here,” you teased, taking a seat next to him. Your expression turned a little more serious. “She wants to sit down and talk with you, you know. Get to know you. When the school year’s over. If that’s ok with you.”

“I’d like that,” he said, taking in a spoonful of soup and groaning at how nice it felt against his sore throat. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I still have some secrets left,” you smirked. “I’m glad you’re feeling better enough to eat something. I was starting to worry a little bit.”

“I’m hoping I can kick this in a few days. I’d hate to cancel class again.” You assured Poe that no one would be mad if he did, to which he laughed and then immediately coughed. You hoped he’d be able to get rid of it soon, too. “You’re going to Cabo for spring break, right?”

“Yeah, with a few girlfriends from high school. Why?”

“I just forgot.” There was something about the tone of his voice that sounded nervous, but he didn’t say anything else. You and him had discussed your spring break plans and you knew he was going to California for a few days with Finn and Rey. 

“So, I’m—“ Poe started, pausing to figure out how he was going to ask what he wanted. You urged him to continue. “After California, I’m spending a few days at my dad’s. If you can make it work, would you want to spend two or three of those days with me?”

Your mouth dropped and a small smile started to form on your face. 

“You want me to meet your dad?” Poe shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was to him. And it was to you too. 

“Yeah, I do,” he said, putting his near empty bowl on the coffee table. You were happy to see he was able to finish most of it. “I was thinking you could fly out Thursday and we’d get a late flight back here on Saturday night so the chances of running into people from here are slim.”

“That’s very specific, how long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since we last talked about spring break. I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

“Were you scared to ask me?”

“I thought it might be too soon to be meeting family.”

“It might be,” you said softly and Poe nodded in understanding, but his face fell a little. You placed your hand on his leg. “But I still want to.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Poe’s face lit up. This was so important to him, like meeting his friends had been. And it stirred something in your chest that he already wanted you to meet his dad. It gave you more hope for your future together. “I’ll call my friends tomorrow and see if we can figure it out.”

Poe put his hand on top of yours and squeezed it, not exactly what he wanted to do but trying not to heighten your chances of getting sick. “I’ll get the soup put away, do you want to watch a movie before you leave?”

You nod and get up at the same time as him, grabbing the blanket from the floor and stretching out on the couch. You opened up Netflix and scrolled through, deciding on a movie that you’d both seen before in case Poe fell asleep. Poe turned a couple lights off as he came back, taking the blanket from you and settling between you and the couch. Half of his body laid on top of yours, legs tangled together and his cheek resting in the middle of your stomach. His arm laid along your other side, hand curved in so his fingers grazed against your side. You were his body pillow and you didn’t mind one bit. 

Poe was a physically affectionate person. He loved to be touching you in some way, from something simple like holding your hand or throwing your legs across his lap to wrapping you completely around him while you laid in bed together, limbs so intertwined you wouldn’t know where he started and you ended. You weren’t surprised to find out that Poe was extremely cuddly when he wasn’t feeling well. A lot of people got that way. 

You started the movie and brought your hand up to run your fingers through Poe’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as you did. You had learned pretty quick that his hair was a weakness for him, something that both relaxed him and excited him depending on what you were doing with it.

It had only been about a month since your first date but you were so incredibly happy with Poe. You adored everything about him, especially the way he treated you. He didn’t talk to you or see you or treat you like a naive girl in her early twenties. He respected you as an equal, an adult in an adult relationship. It was so early in your relationship, but you couldn’t help but think about a future with him. 

This was the real thing for you. You were young and very well aware that a lot of people your age didn’t get into serious relationships. But you really wanted this to turn into something long-term. You hoped he did too. 

He had your heart; completely, fully.

“You’re staring,” Poe mumbled. You chuckled. 

“I can’t help it. 

He looked up at you, his chin on your stomach. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said quietly, placing a kiss on your stomach over your shirt. You smiled softly down at him.

“Of course,” you said. “If I wasn’t, you’d be curled up in the fetal position starving and dehydrated.”

“I would not.”

“You would too. You’re such a baby when you’re sick.”

Poe nuzzled your stomach, the action making you giggle when his two day old stubble made contact with your skin. You relaxed into him, the hand that was in his hair traveling down to rub soothing circles on his back. Within thirty minutes of the movie starting, you were both fast asleep. 

When you were sick with a cold a few days later, Poe was better prepared to tackle the cold. You slept in his bed all day in his bed and he took care of you the same way you did for him.

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[brianc521]

Red Light | CEO Peter

Everyone knows now. 

It wasn’t totally your intention to tell his whole family and your parents, but with the situation it was inevitable.  

**

// 3 Hours Earlier // 

You were headed to the DMV, excited about why you were going. Sure it meant a lot of paperwork, but in the end it would make everything officially Mendes. Your ID, your passport, the likes of things Peter requires you have so he can whisk you away whenever he feels the need too. 

It was such a nice day outside, it was a bit chilly, but the sun was out and there weren’t that many clouds in the sky blocking out the gorgeous blue. 

Everything stopped. There was sudden white noise ringing in your ears. The ringing was loud, and disorienting. Everything was blurry and it took forever for your eyes to focus. Blinking helped but also made it worse. 

“Mrs. Mendes!” 

You wanted to tell Bailey to stop yelling so much. When did you have a headache? Why hadn’t you noticed it before you left the house? You're so good about keeping your headaches in check. 

“Mrs. Mendes!” 

Bailey was waving his hands in front of you, and your eyes physically widened when you noticed the blood trailing down the side of his face from his forehead. 

“Ba-” You coughed, reaching out for him. Your body ached, everything felt like it was being weighed down. In slow motion almost, like you were running through water. 

You flinch when someone grabs your head, holding it still. Something was then strapped over your body. You could hear someone crying, repeatedly saying sorry, and again Bailey called your name. 

What in the hell was going on right now? 

“Mrs. Mendes?” A soft feminine voice called. 

It was bright, white bright. But the noise stopped, and the throbbing in your head had you wincing. 

“Mrs. Mendes can you hear me?” 

You nodded slowly, trying to ease your head out of the dull throb. 

“Good that’s good. Does your head hurt?” 

“Yes.” You hiss, trying to reach for your head, stopping short when your arm hits the strap they’ve fastened around your arms. 

“Okay, they’ll take a look at that when we get to the hospital.” 

“Hospital?” You stare at her, taking in her soft features. She’s got gorgeous brown hair, hazel eyes, and a freckle on her left cheek.

“Do you remember what happened?” She asks softly, applying more pressure to your leg. It was then that you noticed the sharp pain in your leg. 

“No. It was so nice out, we were headed to the DMV.” 

“Mrs. Mendes, the car driving you was hit by a truck that ran a red light. The truck hit your side directly, and we had to cut you out of the car.” 

You stare at her in horror, and look around, finally taking in your surroundings.

“You’re in an ambulance with me and my partner Dean, we’re taking you to the hospital.” 

“Bailey? Where’s Bailey?” 

“Is Bailey your husband?” 

“No he’s my husband's driver.” 

“The man with you is fine, and being checked up at the scene. We need his statement for the accident.” 

“Peter?” You look at her. Her eyes snap to you and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Who’s Peter?”

“My husband, where is he? Is he coming?”

“The man you were with told me to tell Peter as soon as possible, I’ll contact him when we get you checked in.” 

**

“Mr. Mendes office, this is Stan, how may I direct your call?” 

“I need to speak with Peter Mendes please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?” 

“This is Sarah Paulsen, EMT, with truck 6, I need to speak to Peter Mendes regarding his wife Y/n Mendes.” 

Stan just about drops the phone. “Let me transfer you.” 

He transfers the call, then proceeds to storm Peter’s office. Peter looks up with a hard glare at the disturbance. He’s in the middle of a meeting with a potential client, one that’s really on the fence. 

“Stan!” Peter stands up, hands going to his hips. “Someone best be dead.” 

Stan gulps, tears stinging his eyes. “Don’t say that Sir.” 

“Stan,” Peter warns. 

“Line one, Sarah Paulsen needs to speak to you.” 

“Who is Sarah Paulsen?” 

“She’s an EMT, needs to speak to you about Y/n.”

His whole world crumbles. He physically feels the blood drain down to his feet. He looks at the phone, at that damn blinking light. His client looks up in worry, and watches as Peter sinks into his chair and grabs the phone with a shaking hand. 

“Peter Mendes.” He answers.

“Hello Peter Mendes, I’m Sarah Paulsen an EMT with truck 6. I’m calling to inform you that your wife Y/n Mendes was in an accident this morning.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“She’s conscious, and asking for you.”

“Where is she?” He stands, snapping at Stan then pointing to his keys on the hook by his door. 

“Sacred Heart Medical.” 

“Thank you.” He slams the phone back on the cradle and sprints out the door, snagging his keys from Stan on his way out. 

**

His office is a solid hour away from the hospital. He curses lunch hour traffic as he weaves in and out of lanes. His dash lights up with a call from his mother as he stops at yet another red light. 

“Mom?” He croaks out. 

“Oh Pete,” She sighs.

“What?” He barks. 

“She’s okay.” 

“Fuck Mom! Don’t do that.” He breathes easy. 

“Don’t you curse at me Peter Manuel.” 

“You just went ‘Oh Pete’ the same way you did when Papa passed when I was 10. You scared me. Don’t do that.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You just sound so afraid.” 

“I’m sorry for cursing.” He mumbles. “She’s okay?” 

“She’s getting a CT to check for brain bleeds, but they’re not worried about them.” 

“If they’re not worried about it, then why are they checking?” 

The cackles and suddenly it’s quiet around his mother. “Bailey requested them.”

He sighs, foot on the gas as he revs into the parking garage. “It’s not his fault.” 

He’s already been told the story, Raul was on his way out the door from suffering a cut during his shift when he heard her name in the ER. He called when they were transferring her up into a room. Told Peter everything he knew. 

Bailey accelerated at a green when a dark green toyota truck blew through a red and hit the back passenger door. Right where you had been sitting. 

“He’s scared Honey, he was driving.” 

“Hold on Mom, I’ve gotta park, I’ll be up in minutes.” 

**

The sight of him is the sight of a desperate man. He’s still in his work clothes, light blue button up, black suit slacks, dark blue tie. His dress shoes slip on the tile as he runs down hallways towards your room. 

When he made it to the check in counter in front of the waiting room he was stopped by a security guard. “Name and room number.” 

“Y/n, 2307.” He pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Your name?” The guard looks up. 

“Peter.” 

The man blinks at him twice before looking back at the screen and slowly clicks the mouse. 

“Listen dude,” Peter leans forward. “My wife was in a car accident and she’s back behind those doors so you’re going to open them with your keys and you’re gonna let me through.” 

“Wife?” His mother stands, followed by his brothers. 

“I don’t have time for this, take me to my wife!” He slams his hand on the counter. 

The door opens and your mom walks out, “Oh Peter, thank god. She won’t stop asking for you.” 

“Where is she? Is she okay?” He follows your mother, ignoring the calls from the security guard telling him he can’t go back there without a tag. 

He just about falls through the door of your room when he pushes the door open. His whole heart shatters at the sight of you. You’re laid up in bed, cast over your left foot, bandage on your forehead, bruising running along the length of your left cheek. 

“Baby.” He sighs, walking to your bed. 

“Peter.” You cry, reaching out for him.

“I’m here Baby.” He sits at the edge of your bed, hugging you close to his chest, being careful not to put too much pressure on you.

“I was so scared.” 

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. Fucking traffic slowed me up.” 

“It’s okay.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling back to inspect you again. 

“Yeah, they just took a CT of my head. They said they didn’t need to but someone urged them to do it just in case, I thought it was you.” 

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “Although it would’ve been if I’d been here. But Bailey requested it.” 

“Peter you can’t fire him!” You whine as you look up at him. “It wasn’t his fault, the poor man is beating himself up. I overheard him tell your father that he was ready to hand in his keys when you arrived.” 

“He won’t be doing such a thing. I can not believe that’s what you're worried about right now. That I’m gonna fire him.” 

“He was in the accident too Peter. He’s just as scraped up as I am.” 

“He’ll get medical leave, but he’ll be back when he’s healed.” 

**

After the read of your scans and some pain meds for your leg it’s been settled that you’ll go home tomorrow. Peter’s laying with you on the bed, holding you close as you snuggle into his chest. 

“Feeling okay?” He asks, kissing the top of your head. 

“Yeah.” 

“Good enough for my family to come in?” 

“They’re still out there?” You ask, sitting up, but being pulled back into his chest.

“They wanted to see you before they left.” 

“Bring them in.” 

He presses a few things on his phone and then there’s a quiet knock on the door followed by Karen and Manny poking, Shawn, Raul and Aaliyah shuffling in behind their parents. 

“Hey Fighter, how are you doing?” Manny asks, standing at the foot of your bed.

“Better since they finally gave me some ibuprofen.” 

They all chuckle and find places to take a seat next to your bed. 

“I hate to do this when you’re in here, but does someone want to tell me what the hell you meant when you said Wife this afternoon?” Karen gives a pointed look to Peter. 

He sighs, hiding his face in your hair. You giggle, looking up at him. He suffered telling your parents, guess it's your turn to tell his family. 

“We got married a month ago.” 

“Peter Manuel-”

“No,” He looks to his mom. “You used my middle name earlier, you don’t get to use it twice.” 

“Like hell I can’t. What do you mean you got married?” 

“We’re still doing the big wedding we’re planning.” You tell Karen, getting her to look at you. “We just, we just couldn’t wait that long to actually be married. So we had our own wedding, the intimate one for just us that we’ve always talked about.” 

“Then what’s the point of the one we’re planning?” She asks. 

“Because I still want my dad to walk me down the aisle. I still want Aaliyah to be a bridesmaid, and we still want to promise ourselves to each other in front of all of you. We just wanted to have our own first.” 

You explain it all, telling them how Peter planned it. How it was a dream come true and showed you how you truly wanted one with everyone else too. By the end of the conversation Peter was more in love with you then he has ever been before, and his mother was talked down from her rage. 

When they left the room for the night, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since morning, Peter kissed you fiercely. 

“I love you so much.” 

You grin, “I love you too.” 

“I mean, fuck, you’re in a hospital bed and you’re still protecting me.” 

“She wasn’t about to beraid you for marrying me when she didn’t fully understand it all.” You shrug, snuggling deeper into his chest.

“You scared me today Mrs. Mendes.” He whispers, hitting the button on your remote to turn the lights down. 

“I was scared too.” You respond sorely. “I just remember it being so nice out, and thinking that I could not be happier with my life, and the next I know I’m in an ambulance.”

Peter shuts his eyes, hiding himself in your hair and breathing in your scent deeply. 

“I didn’t like getting call saying you were here. I mean I think I totally lost my shit when Stan walked in the office almost crying.” 

“Stan was crying?” 

“He was scared too. You mean so much to mean and to everyone in my life. Today was a scary day.” 

“I’m okay.”

“I know, but the thought of you not being with me anymore, is the most scary thought I think I could ever have.” 

“Stop.” You lean up, wiping at the lone tear that dropped to his cheek. 

“I love you Y/n Mendes, please don’t scare me like that again.” He whispered, blinking the tears from his eyes.

[gardenflowerswriting]

Fucking Jelly (Syverson x Reader)

Summary: Reader is a Doctor who cannot stand the captain, yet when he asks for help, they can’t say no. 

Type: playfullbanter/fluff         Gif: andsowewalkalone               Word Count: 4k

You were threading a small stitch in a mans arm as you heard talking behind you, "this here is Y/L/N." You rolled your eyes, stopping to turn and see Syverson giving his tours to the new people, "go to her if you get a boo boo, she's good with those." You lowered your mask, "Fuck off Syverson, I'm busy." "She won't bite," his thick accent annoyed you to no end. You gave a joking silent laugh and flipped him off, your blue gloves too big for your hands. "Alright boys, this way." 

You tied off the ending of the string and gave the soldier some ibuprofen, lowering your mask and taking off your gloves, "read the label, and take what's prescribed," you picked up your clipboard and began writing, "if the pain does not subside, or you believe the injury to be infect, you must go to the base compound and be evaluated there. I do not have the supplies nor medication to deal with infections." You watched the blonde haired boy nod his head. You were just saying all the basic things they told you-you had to. You had that shit memorized verbatim. You wrote his info as you kept going, "I can provide you with alcohol pads that you can rub on them to clean them." You turned around to open the cabinet and hand them to him, "and for god fucking sake don't try to eat them or get drunk off them." He took them, and smirked "people do that?" You focused back on the form, "you would be surprised.” Returning to write down the soldiers name, “But, I'm done with you so can you get the next person if there is anyone?" "Yeah, thanks doc." You nodded your head and turned back to the small filing cabinet, you had to put his paper away and grab a fresh sheet. You washed your hands in the small sink and heard steps behind you as someone sat down, "alright," you got new gloves and you reached for your pen, turning, "what can I do for you toda-" you were stopped by a smiling Syverson dangling his feet off the one tall chair in the room. You dropped your shoulders, "What are you doing here?" "I came to see you doc." "Oh my god," you leaned against the tan cabinets, "For fucks sake? You know I have actual people to see and help, not you?" His brows moved together, "what? With the little needle you carry around?" You locked your jaw, "I could do a lot with that needle, and that's what they supply me with. Maybe if they gave me more I could do more." He smiled, lifting his hand to shoo away the conversation, "no ones out there anyway. Thought I'd ask you a question." You rolled your eyes, "Syverson, if you're gonna ask me to go on a date you know the answer already." He smirked, "now doc, is that all you think about? A captain asking you on a date," you crossed your arms and glared at him. You could see him try and hold in his laugh, "no, I do have a question, a real one." You raised your brow watching, waiting, "you know a lot about human biology?" "I'm here aren't I?" "Oo, doc no need to get sour on me, I just need you to take a look at one of the dogs that we found outside." You moved your brows together, "a dog? . . I don't know anything about dogs." "Yeah, well you know about humans, they're pretty close are they not?" You stared at him in disbelief, "what? No." "Come on, a quick look, you liked Aika, this dog is no different." You sighed, Aika was cute, and when you could, you made sure to play with her outside. "You never asked me to examine Aika." "I did not say 'examine'" You narrowed your eyes, "then what do you want." He smiled, "we might have some pups coming soon." Your face went flat, "the dog is pregnant?!" "Come on doc, ain't nobody in the hall for you, take a 10 minute break?" You stared at him, trying to decide if you should trust him or not. Finally, rolling your eyes you lifted yourself off the cabinets, "where's the dog?" He smiled, "follow me." You kept your gloves on as he led you through three hallways to his room. He got a room to himself, bastard, so he was somewhat far off from everyone else, "she's been here for a while and only moved to get eat or drink." He pushed the door open and you were greeted with Aika, "hi babes." You spoke softly at her as you began to scratch behind her ear.  She jumped up on you, "Aika down!" His tone was sharp and stern, like he was talking to soldiers who were under him. You gave him a side eye, "she's fine, you know that." "I'm trying to teach her not to do that," he sighed, "this way." He guided you to a bigger dog, fatter in her belly and her nipples were prominent, "you needed me to tell you she's pregnant?" Now this just seemed like a set up to get you in his room.  You bent down to kneel by her side, "No," you scratched her stomach lightly, she looked like Aika, but with the obvious belly. Her fur was also almost all black, "I need you to tell me when she'll give birth. She whines a lot at night and like I said she don't move." You looked up at him, and almost laughed, "Syverson," his stern features didn't shift, "I'm a doctor, not a vet? I have no idea when she'll give birth." He crossed his arms and you rose back to your feet, "all I can say is to wait it out. She will when those pups are ready." He put his hand to his mouth before scratching his chin through his thick beard, thinking, "I can't raise puppies." You smiled at him, "I'll help," he gave you a coy look. Which in turn, made you side eye him, "oh sweetie not for you," looking back down at the soon to be mom, who was panting in the heat, "for the puppies." He grunted and you looked back at him, "what'll you name her?" He squinted down at the dog, "I don't know yet. . . what's your middle name?" "Syverson-" You drew out his name, annoyed.  "No seriously, what is it?" You rolled your eyes, "Y/M/N." (Your/middle/name) "Settles it," he knelt down to the dog and rubbed behind her ears, "Y/M/N," he looked up to you and smiled. After then, you didn't think of the momma anymore, while Syverson constantly made sure to bring her up on your radar. But, today you had seen twenty-two guys which was far from normal, and being you were the only one on base who knew how to give proper stitches and offer medical care in your make shift clinic, you wanted to sleep. Your room was with some of the other female soldiers, but they were nice to you so you didn't care too much. As you were getting ready for bed, you brushed your teeth, let your hair down from it's bun and got it a little wet, so it would return to its normal form. You looked in the mirror and felt dead, wearing a tan t-shirt with no bra and shorts that were too short, but wouldn’t be uncomfortable under your cargo pants (in the instance you needed to get dressed quick). You shuffled to your bed and closed your eyes. "Y/N," you felt your body shake furiously and in an instant, your eyes opened and you reached for the gun you kept at the side of your bed. "No," the dark figure grabbed at your arm and when you went to scream a strong hand covered your mouth, "aye! It's me! It's Syverson." You squinted at the figure and could make out the beard, "Shumveson?" It was muffled because of his hand. He put his finger to his mouth, "shh, you gotta come with me." "Hmm?" Again, the idiot had his hand over your mouth. They really let the dumbest people be captains. "Y/M/N." It took you a minute but then you remembered and nodded your head. "Come on." He let go of your mouth and backed up. When you stood to walk, you whimpered from the pain in your feet, but you followed him to his room, the walk was silent except for your cries of pain. "I think she's having them, I gave her my shirt to lay on." You looked over to his body, "is that why you are suddenly without clothes?" He didn't wear a shirt and only his cargo shorts, which were loosely hanging around his waist. He rolled his eyes at you, "says the girl who's boobs and ass are hanging out." You moved your brows together and felt slightly self conscious, but turned your attention to the dog. "I need you to go to my office and grab two sets of gloves, and probably some Benadryl. Get me some food too." You lowered to be level with the dog. "You're hungry right now?" "Are you dumb? It's to put the pills in and feed to her. Go!" He did as you said and all you could do was scratch as the girls face, "shh, baby," she let out whimpers and you were afraid she would wake people up. He came back and dropped the materials next to you, "get the gloves on when the puppies start to come." He nodded his head and sat down on your free side, "okay baby, we're gonna help you." You looked to Syverson, "she should know how to do this herself, so it's just waiting. But when the puppies are all out, we will figure out the genders then lay them next to her so she can clean them, keep them warm, and let them eat," he nodded his head, receiving all your orders, "get the food you brought and lather them up in Benadryl." "Can dogs have that?" "yes, and it's all we have," she whimpered again and you both looked down to her. He shifted to grab something from the side of his bed, and when you looked, it was a jar of jelly. You almost gasped, "what the hell? You have jelly?!" He cracked the lid open and used his finger to scoop out a chunk, looking to you, "what? My mom mailed it over." You were still jealous. "I hate you," you muttered. He gave her two pills and you both sat watching on the cold tile floor, it was like watching water boil. After about half and hour, he jumped, exclaiming: "I see a head!" You put your hand over his mouth, "she needs to be at peace right now! Don't disrupt her." You felt his tongue against your palm, which made you with draw quickly, "ew!" He smiled, "you liked it." You could only roll your eyes, but you felt his arm wrap around your back pulling you to sit in between his legs, "look," his voice was deep in your ear, which almost put you in a sleepy trans. But you followed to where his finger was pointing, which was to the small head of puppy coming out. You smiled, sitting criss-cross in between his thick body, "you're gonna be a dad." You spoke softly. You could see his hands rest on his knees, "damn, that makes you the step mama." You couldn't help but laugh, while shaking your head, knowing he smiled at you from behind You didn't notice it, but as the longer you both watched the puppies arrive, the deeper you were in his lap. You laid your head against his fury chest while he rested one hand behind him to support you both and the other laid gently against your body. You had gotten so tired, you jumped when his deep voice rose again, vibrating against your head, "you think she's done." You rose quick and looked around, darting to her and the puppies surrounding her nipples to drink. "Um," you rubbed your eyes, "yeah. We can count them and know the genders I guess." "Alright," he shifted from his position, "we could've moved to the bed instead of making me sit on the hard ass floor." You shook your head, "I didn't mean to fall asleep," you yawned a little, looking over at him, "what time is it?" He checked his watch, "4:08" you nodded and moved closer to Y/M/N, he was close behind you, settling at your side as you both looked at her in awe. "Good job babe," you rubbed her head, she welcomed it and kept her mouth open panting. You could hear him getting his gloves on, "Let's see," he picked up one and checked the underside, "girl." You looked to the puppy, her little eyes were still closed and she was so tiny in his hands, "what's gonna be her name?" He took a long look at her, "Doc . . . for doctor." You rolled your eyes and met his gaze, "i want to keep this one and for her name to be doc." He looked so serious about it that you felt your heart pick up. You shuffled closer to him and watched as he set the puppy down, "fine, but the next ones name is gonna be cap for captain." You knew he was smiling, and by the end of you guys going back in forth with names, you had seven puppies, four girls (Doc, Ivy, Ace, and Lyn) with three boys (Cap, Sage and Hendrix). By the time you were done arguing on the names, it was 4:42 AM. You both got up at six hundred hours normally, and you knew if you fell asleep you'd be out. "What some coffee?" He asked after you two were done admiring the cute little puppies and their whimpers. You nodded your head, "you can sit on the bed, it's softer," he got up and disappeared from the room. You scooted to the mattress and first thing you noticed was how much nicer it was than your own. You leaned your head against the wall and when he came back with two mugs you gave him a glare, "your own room, a jar of jelly, and a soft ass bed." He smiled, handing you the cup, "it pays to have a momma that loves ya, and I guess a good position." You rolled your eyes and blew on the coffees surface, watching the steam rise from it. He picked up the container in one hand and tossed it on your crossed legs, "take it." You looked up at him and he walked towards you, laying down next to you, putting his weight on his elbow so he could look at you. You felt yourself frown, "I can't take it." He shook his head, "that's what I'll pay you in, Berry jelly." "Pay me?" He smiled, taking a sip of the black coffee, "for helping." That almost made you snort, "I fell asleep? Really Sy, you should have it, it's from your family. I'm good with the beans and noodles." "Let me see it," he rested his coffee on the bed, letting it sit against his chest as you handed him the jar and he unscrewed the top, showing you the delicious looking substance. You felt your mouth water, "take some." When he could tell you were resilient, he nudged it closer to you again. You pulled one hand from your coffee mug and let two fingers dig into the jar, coming out with a beautiful scoop of the substance. He watched closely as you put your fingers in your mouth and moaned, which made him all the more tentative. His eyes scanned over your body, and took a long glance at your chest knowing you weren't wearing a bra. Your eyes were closed as you threw you head back against the wall, "that good?" It was so sweet and tart at the same time, it almost made you feel like you were in his hometown. You could imagine him picking berries for the mixture and helping to smash them with his mom, it was so cute. When you finally opened your eyes, your smile was giddy, "like an orgasm." "Well doc if I would've know it was that easy I would've given it to you the first day I saw you." You looked straight at the paint chipped wall, still feeling in a daze of jelly happiness, as you shook your head, "no, you could never get me like that." He watched your every move, licking his lips, "wanna make that a bet." Your head shifted down to him, and you looked at him with the most loving eyes he had ever seen, "this was fun." Before lowering to kiss his cheek, you stopped at his ear, "I'll come by tonight and look at how the kids are doing?" He nodded his head and you pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was quick, but it left a warm print on his skin, and made your chin rub against his beard. "Bye Sy." He hummed, and watched you lift yourself from his bed. He watched your ass as you tiptoed and opened his door lightly, giving him one last glance before you disappeared into the hall. "Fuck." He muttered looking to the jar he laughed, "fucking jelly." 

[yourfavewriteress]

always a priority | jack eichel

Teaser: “I’d clear my whole plate for you if you needed me to.”

I coughed intensely for at least five minutes before my body eventually gave out. Laying back on the couch, completely out of breath and sweating, I groaned to myself, fighting back tears.

The light hum from the TV was no distraction from the pain that I was feeling in my entire body. My head was pounding, my neck was sore, my chest felt empty, my lungs felt bruised. Overall, every part of me felt like shit.

Jack was gone for his away games. He left three nights before and was coming back home later tonight. He has no idea how sick I am. I haven’t told him because he’s dealing with so much being captain of a team that should be playing well but just isn’t. He’s one of the only players on his team delivering, and technically as captain, he takes a lot of blame for the Sabres’ setbacks. In my opinion, he’s the only reason why people even still mention the Sabres. Don’t get me wrong, I love Jack’s teammates, but Jack has really been carrying the team on his back, and that I do not like. He’s stressed all the time, constantly pushing himself to be better, when he’s already one of the best players in the league. 

“Babe?” My eyes shot open as I heard Jack’s voice sound through our apartment. No, no, no, no. Why is he home so early? I was banking on at least having time to shower and look less like shit, especially since I purposely failed to tell him I was sick in the first place. The worst part was, I couldn’t physically move my body due to the pain I was in. Clearly, I should have told Jack as soon as I started feeling like this but I didn’t want to add to his already full plate with hockey.

“Are you sleeping?” I heard him mumble, probably to himself. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Hey,” I smiled softly.

“Hi, how ar- what’s wrong?” He asked, looking over me and the living room. I was laying on the couch in a tank top and shorts. I took our comforter from the bedroom, using it as my blanket. There was an open container of VaporRub on the table, as well as a container of ibuprofen. Plus, untouched soup I made that barely made its way down my esophagus before it came right back up into our bathroom toilet.

“I, uh,” I tried to sit up, failing miserably. I gasped at the pain in my chest and back.

“Baby,” Jack said, crouching down next to me. “What is going on?”

“I’m sick,” I said. “And, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You broke your ankle and didn’t even break a sweat. You can barely sit up and breathe right now,” He responded.

“I just have a bad cough,” I said.

“You’re lying,” He stood up, taking off his coat.

“Okay, it’s bad. But, I’m fine,” I sighed, attempting to sit up again.

“Y/N, stop,” He said, helping me. “How long have you been like this?”

“Two days?”

“Ah, man, you’re killing me,” He mumbled. He grabbed all the stray tissues on the table, tossing them in the trash. “I see you didn’t eat.”

“Jack, stop, seriously, you can’t get sick,” I said, grabbing his wrists to stop him from touching my infected tissues.

“I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about you,” He said. “Is this why you didn’t want to facetime me last night?”

“Maybe,” I pouted.

“You’re so annoying,” He smiled. He kissed my lips and I almost kissed back before I realized what he was doing.

I pushed him back gently. “Jack, I don’t know if it’s contagious.”

“I haven’t seen you in four days, I don’t care if you’re contagious,” He responded, pressing his lips to mine once again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I said. “But, kissing to the very minimum.”

“Fine,” He rolled his eyes. “How much pain are you in? On a scale of 1-10.”

“6, maybe?” I shrugged.

“Okay, so that means 9 actually,” He said. “I’m tempted to take you to the hospital.”

“No,” I widened my eyes. “I can get through this, I promise.”

“I know you can, and you will. But, should you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Just be honest with me, do you want me to take you to see someone? I love you and you know I think you’re the most beautiful person ever, but you look like shit right now and I’m sure you don’t feel any better.”

“I think I’ll survive if you take care of me.”

Jack smiled, kissing my hand. “Fair enough. But, just so you know, if I feel like it’s a lot, I’m taking you to the hospital. No arguments.”

“I know,” I rolled my eyes. “And, do not kiss my hand again. I’ve been wiping my snot.”

“Anything that comes out of you isn’t disgusting to me anymore,” He laughed. 

“My head hurts,” I sighed, laying back down. “Everything hurts.”

“I’m gonna change really fast, and then I’ll be back, okay?” He asked. “Can you give me like 5 minutes?”

I nodded, laying back down under the comforters. 

“When was the last time you ate?” I heard Jack ask a few minutes later.

“Uhm, last night?”

“It’s 2!” He exclaimed.

“One, my head. Two, I tried to eat this soup but I threw it up seconds later.”

“How many times have you thrown up?” He asked.

“You’re making me think so much, Jack,” I sighed, rubbing my temples.

“Well, I’m sorry, but maybe if you would have let me know that you were sick, I would already know these things. I’m just trying to do a little catch up so that I know what you need,” He said softly, leaning over the back of the couch looking down at me. 

“I’m sorry,” I pouted up at him.

“It’s fi- babe, holy shit,” He looked surprised as he placed his hand on my forehead. “Your head is so hot.”

“I know.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get you saltines and ginger ale, does that work?”

“I’m going to throw it up but go ahead,” I shrugged.

“I mean, I would recommend something a little more filling but if you’re gonna throw it up anyway, I’d rather not put you through that.”

“Okay.” He disappeared into the kitchen, coming back minutes later with the ginger ale and crackers. 

“Can you at least try to eat some before you go to sleep?” I heard him say as I felt a squeeze to my leg. 

“Do I have to?”

“No, but I would like you to.”

“Fine.” I ate one cracker and Jack laughed as I laid back down. I could hear him moving around before he pulled the blanket off of me. 

“Can you move closer to the edge?” He asked.

“Why?” I sighed. He ignored me, simply wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me towards him and the edge of the couch. Once I was practically hanging off, he climbed into the empty space, squeezing in.

“When you get sick, I really do not want to hear your whining,” I mumbled.

“I’d rather get sick than just watch you suffer from 5 feet away,” He responded, pulling the comforter over the both of us. He put his arm under my neck, his chest pressing into my back. His other hand wrapped around my waist. I turned around in his arms, nuzzling my face in his neck.

“You’re literally burning up,” He said, tangling his fingers in my hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? You’re in so much pain.”

“I just-, I know you’re going through a lot with the team lately. You’ve been stressed and I didn’t want to worry you and just add to your plate,” I admitted.

“You’re more important to me than hockey, Y/N,” He said.

“Yeah, right.”

“What, you think hockey is more important to me than you?” He moved his head back, looking down at me.

“I mean, it’s your job.”

“Exactly, it’s a job. You’re definitely more important, and I’m sorry that you even think I want you to keep things from me to not add to my plate. I’d clear my whole plate for you if you needed me to.”

“Jack, relax,” I smiled. “I’m just sick, not dying.”

“No, seriously,” He sat up. “We’ve been together for 4 years and we live together now. You do know that you’re always a priority for me, right?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Okay, good. If you ever need me, at any time, no matter what I’m doing or who I’m with, all you have to do is say the word and I’m there. I’ll leave in the middle of a game if it’s about you.”

“You’re sweet,” I hugged him. “And, I know, Jack. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It’s not as bad as it seems, I just need to keep drinking fluids and sleeping. You always tell me how important I am to you, I haven’t forgotten, trust me.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” He sighed. 

“Well, you’re here now, so can you lay down and be my pillow now?”

He laughed. “You’re so annoying.”

[adiwriting]

(gif by the lovely @darlingnotso)

PSA: As I’ve stated before, I will be putting money towards the Navajo Nation COVID-19 Relief Fund every time that I post Malex fic. 

********Please don’t reblog*********** 

This is going to be the last Sunday Morning fic for awhile. Leaving it untagged with the hopes that it remains just for my followers and doesn’t attract more harassment. If you want to comment, reply or DM me please instead of reblogging.

Week 16

When the puppies start barking at their usual 6:30am time, Alex instantly regrets all of his life choices. His head is pounding, his leg aches, and his stomach is a mess. It doesn’t help in the slightest that Michael is plastered to his side, hot as hell, and making Alex sweat. 

“Why did we get a dog?” Michael grumbles, nuzzling his nose into Alex’s neck and making him feel even worse. 

“Why did you let us get four?” he asks, pushing at Michael’s body. “And why the hell are you so hot?” 

“‘s cold,” Michael says, throwing his arm over Alex’s stomach. 

Alex pushes him away. “You’re a thousand degrees and I already want to die. Roll over or something.” 

Michael groans and Alex swears he hears him curse under his breath, but he thankfully rolls over and Alex feels like he can breathe a bit as cool air hits his overly heated skin. The relief he feels is only temporary though as his mind then zeroes in on how much his stomach is swirling and twisting. 

The puppies continue to bark. It’s too loud and the sun streaming in through the window is too bright. Everything is just too much right now and Alex needs it to stop. The mattress shifts as Bell jumps up onto the bed, making the world spin and Alex’s stomach does a dangerous tilt. He’s not even sure if he could make it to the bathroom fast enough to throw up if he had to, and so he prays he doesn’t need to. 

Michael loves him, but he doubts Michael would love it if Alex threw up in their bed. 

Bell pushes her head against his shoulder, demanding cuddles. Any other day, Alex would be more than willing to give into her demands. He loves cuddling with Bell in the mornings. But right now, he can’t focus on anything aside from not vomiting. She gives up and moves to do the same to Michael, who lifts his arm up and allows her to crawl on top of him and lay down. 

“Please tell me you’re as hungover as I am,” he complains, closing his eyes against the sun and willing the world to stop. He regrets not springing for blackout curtains when Michael was redoing their bedroom.  

Michael chuckles and it makes the bed shake, causing Alex to groan. “No, but I had about five beers and six shots less than you did,” he says. 

Alex cracks his eyes open just enough to give him a doubtful look. 

“Hey, I’m not the town drunk everyone thinks I am,” Michael protests. “And somebody had to make sure that everyone got home okay. Liz and Max were a mess. Only one of you guys who held their liquor with any dignity was Maria.” 

That’s probably fair. Alex doesn’t remember a lot of last night after the first two hours. Isobel had challenged him to a drinking game that he outright refused to lose on principle. But even the first two hours, he could tell that it was going to be one of those nights. He can’t blame his friends. It’s been a long few weeks of one alien drama after another but yesterday had been a surprisingly drama free Halloween night for them and they’d all just let loose. What he can remember of Michael though, is that he’d taken things slow most of the night, taking on the role of caretaker for everyone. 

“You had fun though, right?” he asks, worried that Michael had perhaps seen it as his duty to take care of everyone else instead of partaking in the fun himself. Part of the argument for having the party at their place was so that they could both enjoy the party rather than having to worry about getting home or taking care of the dogs. 

“Yeah, it was nice,” Michael says with a smile, running his hands over Bell, who looks perfectly content. Alex is jealous. He knows that there are few places more comfortable than Michael’s chest, but right now the thought of being anywhere near the furnace that is Michael sounds awful. 

“Don’t tell Isobel I said that,” Michael adds. “I already told her we are not having Thanksgiving here under any circumstance… Which probably means I should start working on making that table I’ve been wanting to build for out back, because I’m pretty sure my protest means that we’re having Thanksgiving here.”

Alex laughs before it causes his head to pound even more and whines. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.” 

“I bet,” he says. “I’m not sure why you thought you could out drink my sister. On her lightest days she polishes off two bottles of wine a night.” 

“Because she gets annoying and smug when she wins and I refuse to put up with it,” Alex says and Michael just laughs. “Is Bell still wearing her wings?” 

Michael runs his hands over the fairy wings that Bell had worn yesterday as part of her Tinkerbell costume. They’d dressed all the dogs up in Peter Pan costumes to match their namesakes. It had been adorable, if Alex does say so himself.

“She didn’t want to take them off,” Michael says with a shrug. 

“Oh yeah? She tell you that herself?” he teases. 

“As a matter of fact, I tried to take them off last night and she whined and moved away, so yes she did,” Michael says. “And the puppies were asleep when I came back inside so I left their costumes on as well.” 

Alex reaches over tentatively, careful not to move too much of his body so that he doesn’t reignite the nausea, and pets Bell. “She does make a really cute fairy.” 

“Of course she does. She’s the most beautiful fairy in the world,” he agrees, lifting his head to kiss Bell’s nose. She licks his face in return. Michael turns to look at him, “Look at what Rosa taught her yesterday when they were both hiding out in here.” Michael looks back at Bell and says, “I do believe in fairies.” 

Bell howls twice as if to say, ‘I do, I do.’ 

Alex smiles, holding back his laugh for fear of making his stomach twist even more. Bell’s howl causes the puppies to go crazy from their spot in the kitchen though and suddenly everything is far less cute. Alex’s head pounds and he’s back to hating the world and wanting to curl up and die. 

“I guess I should go walk them since you’re clearly useless today,” Michael says. 

Alex throws his arm over his eyes and doesn’t bother arguing. 

He hears Bell protest before the bed shifts again, making Alex suck in a breath as he fights against his body’s urge to hurl. “Why don’t you try and shower? I’ll bring you breakfast in bed when I get back from walking them.” 

“Can we spend the entire day in bed?” Alex asks, hopefully. 

“I’ll even let you pick the movies we watch today,” he promises, placing a kiss to Alex’s forehead. 

“You smell like a distillery,” Michael says. 

Alex has a flash of Isobel breaking out a bottle of whiskey as they played Two Truths and a Lie with Maria. He’s sure that he’s got liquor coming out of his pores at this point. He doesn’t even remember the last time he drank this much. Perhaps the one time he’d gotten plastered before shipping off to Iraq the last time? The time they’d gotten into that nasty fight over Alex’s decision not to tell Michael he was being deployed again. Michael had had to hear it from Maria and had been none too pleased. 

Michael flips on the light and Alex whines. “I regret all of my life choices.” 

“Surely not all of them,” he teases. 

“Why didn’t you stop me last night?” Alex asks. 

Michael snorts. “Oh, I tried. Several times. You told me that you were a grown ass man who didn’t need a babysitter.” 

Alex grimaces, he doesn’t remember saying that, but he’s sure he probably did. “Sorry.” 

“You’re fine,” he says. “Max was way worse and far less cute while telling me to back off. You’re good.”

“It doesn’t sound like you had a good night,” Alex says, pushing Michael despite his earlier words, wanting to make sure that he truly did enjoy himself and wasn’t miserable.

“I promise, I enjoyed myself,” he says. “Rosa and I had a nice long talk. She’s gonna start working at the junkyard for me. I wouldn’t mind having somebody help run the office side of things. She loves her dad but needs some independence.” 

“That’s understandable,” Alex says. 

“Yeah, then Liz and I nerded out over science before Max stole her away. Kyle, Maria, and I played poker and I won $150. And I ended up watching Hocus Pocus for the first time and making cookies with Rosa once everyone got too shitfaced to form coherent sentences.” 

“You’ve never seen Hocus Pocus?” Alex asks, shocked. 

“Okay, first of all, why does everyone react like that when I say that? I watched it last night with Rosa and it was cute but it does not deserve that reaction out of people,” he says, grumpily. “And second of all, you know that I didn’t have any of that shit growing up.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Alex says, kicking himself for always doing that. Always reacting to experiences Michael says he didn’t have growing up with shock. Alex knows better. He himself grew up in a home void of normal childhood experiences. But he had the Ortechos and the DeLucas to help give him happy holiday memories. He always assumes that Michael had that in the Evans family, but he’s regularly proven wrong. 

“Hey, listen, go walk the dogs,” Alex says. “I’ll hop in the shower. After breakfast we can watch all the holiday movies you never got to see growing up.” 

“Can we start with Home Alone?” he asks, that light, happy tone back in his voice. 

“Of course, followed up by A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving,” Alex promises. 

Forty-Five minutes later, the entire family is piled in their bed, warm and comfortable. Alex is slowly eating the pancakes that Michael prepared him, keeping his plate away from Peter’s thieving paws as best he can. His stomach is starting to settle and his headache is muted thanks to the ibuprofen that Michael left for him before he took the dogs on their walk. Home Alone is playing on the TV screen and Michael is curled up with a sleeping Bell and John, smiling soft and content. 

And right here, in this exact moment? Life feels utterly perfect.