#the nose injury give it an extra touch

[islesnucks]

-> Mat Barzal - january 21st

[dauntlessallure]

𖤐 ⸝⸝ ˚ ┊ INSULT TO INJURY — T. FUSHIGURO ⋆

〝 ⠀ ݁ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑!𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜ ⠀݁ ⠀

【 SYNOPSIS 】— he’s mean. tough. toji fushiguro shouldn’t be so much to deal with until he is. you fix him up & he gives you a lil reward.

【 CONTENTS 】— boxer!toji , medic!reader , reader referred to as ‘ she ‘, fem-bodied reader, smut , slight angst / comfort , mentions of blood & injuries , mature language , jealousy , mutual stalking, hints at masturbation , consensual non-consent , unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it. ) MDNI + any other missing tags .ᐟ

【 PAIRING 】— toji fushiguro x reader

【 WORD COUNT 】— 2.2k

【 TAG LIST 】— @itsmonicabc @girlluvsblogging

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄��𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

THE LONG AWAITED BOXER TOJI IS HERE. alrighty people , toji had won the poll vote for the first of the boxer!jjk men series. reblogs are very much appreciated <3. comment to be added to my tag list .ᐟ this work is not yet proof read.

boxer!toji was one of the first of many people that you had first taken care of as a medic. it was your first event working with the company , everyone you had run into was very very nice and seemed happy to have the extra support that your dainty little hands could provide. though at first , toji was refusing treatment. he called it “ a waste of time. “ which is translation for: im slightly embarrassed. toji was never the one to ask for help. in his own brain , he handles his own healing even if his nose was pouring blood like a leaking faucet. but you , you’d insisted that he’d stay. lucky you didn’t have to tell him twice. he couldn’t say no to you, a beautiful individual with a good head on your shoulders.

boxer!toji was endlessly throwing compliments at you the entire time as you tended to his bloody nose. “ do ya always look this pretty while fixing your patients up ? “ his word’s immediately went straight to your head. toji fushiguro was undoubtedly handsome, and huge in stature while you were just a tiny little thing. he smirked as you looked at him with a reddened face, toji knew what he was doing. “ awh cmon doll , you ain’t gotta be shy about it. “ at this point, he was just teasing you. “ just . . hold still “ was the only thing you managed to get out.

boxer!toji who gets jealous that others are in dire need of your care besides just him. someone who honed the same skill as you certainly wasn't uncommon but you ? you were the only one that toji allowed to actually touch him. you were just following up with another patient, geto suguru when toji walked in to see you wrapping up geto’s left hand. you didn’t even notice toji standing outside of the doorway until geto cleared his throat, causing you to look up from suguru’s limb. toji was already staring directly at you and now suguru. you’d be lying to say that his stare didn’t do things to you. “ oh toji .ᐟ i’ll be with you in just a mome— “ he didn’t give you time to finish “ i’ll come back later when you aren’t so busy with some lightweight. “ toji spat as he glared at geto before walking away. you quickly apologized to geto, finishing taping up his hand.

boxer!toji still remembers the first time he laid eyes on you. just staring at you from afar while you spoke to the chairman of the company, masamichi yaga. toji stared you and your body like a piece of meat. as shiu , toji’s manager was deep in conversation with him but the sorcerer killer had one thing on his mind. “ she’s too pretty to be working in a place like this “ he had spoken out loud. shiu’s eyes followed toji’s gaze which led him to you. perhaps even the contractor agreed in silence. you locked eyes with both men as you were stepping into your office for the evening, causing a small friendly smile to play on your lips while toji’s dark gaze seemed to burn a feeling into you that you just couldn’t shake off upon entering your new workspace.

boxer!toji who HATES losing. It makes him feel so small even though toji couldn’t be small even if he wanted to. especially with the most recent loss he had taken, It hit him hard. The media alone already hated him so this was only insult to injury for fushiguro. he just wasn’t able to understand it. if you thought he was embarrassed before, it just went up a couple notches. how did it all go so wrong ? not to mention, he had some nasty injuries to only add to his frustration. tonight’s scheduled fight went out of control in toji’s favor. toji was set to fight on ‘the strongest’ fighter , satoru gojo. the whole time you watched from backstage , just flinching everytime a punch was thrown or a kick was made. you could replay that brutal moment in your mind , that’s how explicit it was. a loud CRRAAACK was heard after satoru had thrusted his knee upwards into toji’s face. — ouch. you immediately knew something was wrong by the dazed expression displayed on toji’s face, his body falling limp.

boxer!toji was quickly rushed to your area as soon as possible by shiu, he was still in a hazed state of mind. mostly anger and confusion fizzled in his mind as you instructed him to sit. toji obeyed your orders & sat on the medical bench, now holding an ice pack to the giant laceration that skimmed the side of his head whilst staring blankly at the wall in-front of him in silence. shiu sighed at toji’s stillness before walking out of the medical area, leaving you to now look after toji. the medical room was just gasping for comfort , nothing but a thick and awkward tension lingered in the air. toji slowly turned his face towards you , almost emotionless. it was nerve wracking, you’d expect him to be yelling or just mouthing off but no. his pride was hurt to push you away , not this time.

boxer!toji who for once lets you tend to his needs without any trouble or bartering, he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to you again. even though he’s mentally punching himself for letting his guard down, but he really has no choice here. toji sure as hell wasn’t gonna go to an actual hospital to see what’s wrong with him. maybe it’s better for you anyways, you needed the hands on experience. “ just do what you have to do. . make it quick. “ he didn’t have to tell you twice. you stood up to change your gloves , he was now staring at you. his eyes raked down over your body before landing back onto your face , toji could feel your concern about him which made him feel guilty. . why ? who really knows ? the way toji’s mind works is complex. . he feels bad & guilty over things that he has zero control over.

boxer!toji blurts out “ i betcha think i’m weak , don’t you ? “ , it causes you to stop your movements and look at toji. “ what ? no toji , i don’t think you’re weak. . . “ trailing off on your words , your skilled hands proceed to fix up the gash on toji’s head. “ if anything , you’re everything but weak. not everyone can do this type of career , and not everyone can be toji fushiguro. if that was the case then there would be a million guys running in and out of that locker room . . you did good , but you can’t win them all. “ you words seemed to stick in toji’s mind for the rest of time you’ve spent fixing him up, the short exchange of words made the tension less apparent. soon enough you set toji on his way. “ please take it easy . . Be careful with your nose too , your lucky it wasn’t broken fushiguro. but i will need you to check in with me soon with that gash, keep it clean ! “

boxer!toji never did come back for his checkup during the next event. matter of fact , he didn’t even even show up for the next few events which caused you to worry. you go as far as waving down shiu and asking him what the hell was up. “ fushiguro says he is still recovering “ shiu reassured you that toji was fine. but you began to speculate that something else was going on, something deeper beyond your comprehension. but what could you do about it ? nothing. after all , you were just a medic. you’d nod at shiu before stepping away back into your office, groaning while you slowly shut the door behind you. . perhaps you were beginning to miss that hunk of a man a little too much.

boxer!toji who’s stalking your social media a little too hard during his ‘ recovery ‘. endless hours of his dark colored orbs staring at the screen of his phone , just scrolling away on your instagram. these pictures didn’t do you enough justice he thought , you were even better looking up close. little did toji know that you were doing the same thing. . you didn’t understand why people hated him. better yet , why on earth he didn’t have a significant other ? all the gym photos of him shirtless with a sheen of sweat covering over his torso and chest , it made your heart thump. the pool of arousal quickly making itself known in the pit of your stomach. . was this wrong ? you kept staring at the picture while your hand began to snake it’s way below the waistband of your shorts but you stopped once you realized you had accidentally liked the photo ! were trying to get a better grip of the phone in your shaky hands , your chest tightened with anxiety as you quickly unliked the photo. phew ! there’s no way he could see that you didn’t just like a photo of his from six months ago !

boxer!toji who did in fact see that you did in fact like a picture of him from six months ago. a low chuckle leaving his lips seeing the notification pop up on the upper half of the screen only for him to grin as he refreshed his notifications. — no notification. it disappeared. toji was cocky enough when it came to the effect he had on people in any manner. after seeing you doing the same mutual stalking that he was doing only 30 minutes ago caused all those feelings to rush to his raging length , restricting itself by the fabric of his sweatpants. toji was more than ready for his check up.

boxer!toji slowly sneaks into your office during the next event. it was quite early in the evening, not even all the fighters had arrived yet. but toji had something he needed to prioritize before making a complete comeback from his injury. you. while nobody is looking, not even you noticed him snaking his way through the door, quietly closing the door with a soft click.

while bent over , tidying up your area — a pair of large hands grip at your hips. causing a gasp to flee from your lungs. “ shhhh. it’s just me princess. “ you knew that voice , causing a shiver trickle it’s way down your spine. it was toji. slowly bending upwards, his lands kept a firm hold on your lower half. a quiet chuckle coming from the man behind you. “ toji , what are you doi– “ he didn’t even let you finish your sentence before one of his rough hands made its way up to your throat, giving it a light squeeze. quickly hushing you, toji presses his body against your backside while leaning down to your ear. “ someone’s been stalkin’ me late at night , hm ? “ fuck, he knew. “ we both know what you’re doing up at those hours of the night , don’t we ? “ as if he wasn’t doing the same exact thing , humiliation began to leech itself into your brain. how embarrassing ! the other thing you muttered out was a strangled “ m’ sorry ! i-it was wrong of me ! “ evidently your ‘sorry’ and honesty wasn’t much to toji, as now you found yourself bent over the medical bench with your leggings now carelessly tossed across your office, your arousal-soaked panties dragged down to your ankles, and your moans and whines being suppressed by one of toji’s hands covering your kiss bitten lips while he’s plunging in and out of your sopping cunt at an inhumane pace. “ you’re gonna take my cock as a thank you for fixin’ me up — fuuuuuck. “ the lewd squelching coming from between your legs bounced off of the walls as you moaned loudly into his palm, his thick length filling you beyond oblivion. even you were surprised by how he fit inside despite being fucked onto only two of his fingers before hand. “ mmmph ~ “ was the only thing you could manage to sputter out , toji was pounding you so hard. he was fucking you stupid. no coherent words , thoughts, dared to corrode your mind other than pure selfish pleasure that toji was bestowing onto you. “ pussy so fuckin’ tight , she’s pullin’ me in. “ he’d groan , looking down at where your bodies met. soaking in the image of your cunt gripping his cock like a vice. the cute noises escaping from your covered mouth seemed to be having an effect on toji as well. you could feel his grip only tighten and his thrusts become sloppier by the second while the coil in your stomach instantly snapped. you were cumming so hard , harder than any other pathetic ex partner of yours could ever manage. a string of noises left your body as your gummy walls convulsed & pulsated around toji’s throbbing length. “ hah — fuck ! makin’ a mess of you. “ was the last thing toji uttered out before his cock spasmed. toji grunted as his hand left your hip and landed hastily against the flesh of your ass. his seed painted your walls white. the warmth of his load earned a whimper, you could feel it seeping out of your aching heat. toji slowly retracted his hand from your mouth before slowly pulling out , watching your face contort into one of pleasure while his load dribbled down your inner thighs. “ i think i’ll need a check up more often, whaddya say ? “

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 24’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

[mignonricciardo]

small acts | dr3

this was written while listening to zach bryan's new album hence the title "small acts" after track smaller acts... this is an entirely self-indulgent fic focused on comfort and cute after the news of today's crash and daniel's injury :( i hope he's recovering well and as quick (and safely) as possible check out the end for a little instagram au <3

summary: helping daniel after an injury (and making sure everyone knows that, yes, he's still alive) (1.8k words)

warnings: none really, dutch gp crash, mentions of broken bones and x-rays, sex jokes but no sex

The week had been going too well — perfect weather in Amsterdam, no issues on flights, a date lined up for after the race, an extra day to explore the city together. I should have known something was bound to interrupt the weekend with luck like Daniel’s and mine. It’s like I watch the incident in slow motion. The orange car I was still having to remind myself wasn’t him skidding into the wall and resting right at the racing line Daniel is taking. I watch, knowing he is too close to clear it, and my stomach falls as he veers into the wall, narrowly avoiding the car only a few meters away from him. The impact is harder than I anticipate, but his voice over the radio makes me hold the headphones tighter against my ear. 

He’s hurt. My heart aches as he apologizes to the team, explaining he saw the McLaren too late, but I hear how his breath is sharp through his nose. I look to his trainer, my frantic eyes must give something away, and he heads toward Daniel’s race engineer in the garage. There’s silence on the radio besides Daniel’s labored breathing, and his race engineer looks to me, following his trainer’s pointed finger. He begins again.

“Are you okay?”

The hesitation feels like it lasts forever, but when Daniel answers, my stomach drops.

“Fuck, my hand,” he says, and in the corner of my eye, I see his onboard footage as his ungloved hand shakes. “Fuck.”

I tug the headphones off my ears, pinching between my brows and attempting to calm the nerves in my stomach. It’s not long before I’m whisked away from the garage to the medical center, and race staff escorts me into the center where Daniel sits. A doctor prods at his hand as he discusses exactly what happened, and when I walk into the room, he looks to me with a soft smile, “Hey.”

My heart tugs as he sucks in a sharp breath when the doctor’s hands touch a particular part of his hand, and I head toward the chair next to where he’s seated. I sit, brushing his knee with mine as I smile back, “How are you feeling? Honestly?”

Another sharp inhale as the doctor lifts one of his fingers, “Pretty fucking bad. Better now that you’re here, though.”

Even the doctor chuckles at his shameless flirting, and I roll my eyes with a laugh. He reaches his free hand toward me, lacing our fingers and squeezing my hand, “Thank you for coming, babe.”

I nod my head, squeezing his uninjured hand back in return. It’s comfortable — our fingers interlaced and my thumb tracing the delicate bones in the back of his hand  — and we sit in this silence as the doctor continues his evaluation. It’s not long before he fashions a sling around Daniel’s neck, our hands separating so he can work, placing his injured hand carefully in it. When he directs Daniel to visit the local hospital for x-rays, the injured driver lets out a groan as he mutters an are you serious? We thank the doctor who wishes him well as he goes to inform the AlphaTauri staff and Daniel’s immediate team. I reach for his free hand, finding comfort in his warm palm against mine. 

“You had me scared, you know,” I say quietly, thumb rubbing along his hand. “It looked like a hard impact, and I could hear you breathing over the radio. I knew something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head before standing from the exam table. “I didn’t think it was that bad until I tried to get out of the car. What if it’s broken?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I answer, bringing our entwined hands up to kiss the back of his. “We always do.”

It’s a long afternoon. They load Daniel, myself and his immediate team into the car bound for the hospital, and with another round of doctors poking and prodding and Daniel sharing everything, they take him for x-rays to confirm his suspicion. Broken, the doctor says, metacarpal four. I sit with him as they put a cast on him, hiding some of my favorite tattoos of his from my sight. He makes jokes about it as they do, searching for some humor as Blake calls the team to confirm he won’t be able to race the rest of the weekend. With his hand in a cast and a real immobilizer on his arm, we’re left alone in the room. He still has his race overalls around his waist, his team polo on and fireproofs cut up and long forgotten in the corner of the room. 

“So much for our perfect weekend,” he mutters, squeezing my hand. 

“We’ll make it work,” I whisper, standing up to give him as much of a hug as possible with his immobilizer. He leans into me, my chin resting on his curls, and he sighs contently as his good arm wraps around my waist to pull me as close as he can without aggravating his injury. One of my hands rubs his back gently, a comforting habit the two of us had picked up, “I was excited just to spend time with you, Dan. Sitting in a hotel room watching movies is just as good as whatever surprises you had planned in Amsterdam.”

“You know I love you, yeah?” he asks, head pulling away from me to meet my gaze. His eyes look tired despite the soft smile on his face, “When this is over, I’ll make it up to you.”

“All you need to do is whatever the doctors tell you so you get better as soon as possible,” I answer, leaning down to peck his lips gently. “That’s enough for me.”

“No I love you back?” he grins, pouting his lips.

I laugh, kissing his lips again, “I love you, too. We should get you back to the track to prove you’re alive. There’s been no update, so people have been asking. Even my mom texted me.”

“She loves me,” he grins, letting me help loop his good arm through his team jacket and drape the other side over his shoulder. “Must run in the family.”

“Full of yourself much?” I laugh, walking with him back toward Blake. 

We load into the car back toward the track, and while Daniel isn’t quick to admit how much pain he’s really in, it’s all over his face as he grimaces with every bump in the road. I let him squeeze my hand with his good one the entire ride, clasped hands hidden in his lap, and his team talks about potential next steps and timelines. Walking back into the paddock is tough with sympathy and condolences written on everyone’s faces and resting on the tips of their tongues. Daniel does well to navigate it, answering a few questions about eventually being alright. I walk just behind him, focusing on how his uninjured hand clenches occasionally at his side. He heads into the team hospitality with everyone to meet with Franz and Christian, and he thanks me as I offer to head back to the garage to gather his things from his driver’s room. By the time I arrive back in hospitality, I have his backpack slung on my shoulder and a large bag of stroopwafels in my hand with a note attached from the marshals who helped him out of the car. He’s talking to Max when I come in, and the two drivers interrupt their conversation as I approach. 

“Mate, I think she could replace you at this point,” Max grins, giving me a quick hug. “How are you holding up?”

“Ready to play nurse and enforcer if I need to,” I answer, and Max and Daniel both laugh as the latter wraps his good arm around my waist gently in an unusual display of public affection. “I’m most concerned he won’t actually take it easy. You know him, Max.”

“Have a little faith,” he laughs quietly, leaning into me. 

I pass him the bag of stroopwafel, and he smiles and laughs as he reads the note from the marshals. I let him continue his conversation with Max in private, stepping away to update my family and Daniel’s family who had begun texting me due to his amount of typos with just one hand to type. After he makes his rounds, he comes up to where I sit on the couch, nudging my knee with his, “I’m sorry, babe. You ready to head back?”

I nod my head, standing and grabbing his backpack, “No need to be sorry. Just glad it didn’t end any worse.”

I yawn repeatedly on the way to our hotel, bidding Blake goodnight as he exits the elevator on his floor. We stumble into our room, exhaustion from the day finally catching up to both of us, and we immediately collapse onto the king-sized bed. We lay there for a few moments, basking in the quiet and alone from the whirlwind of the day. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I’m going to ask you to undress me and have absolutely no sexual motives,” Daniel groans, and I let out a loud roar of laughter. Tears prick at my eyes and I clutch my stomach, and he groans as he huffs that he’s serious. 

“Is this a glimpse into my future?” I joke with him, helping to carefully free his arm from his immobilizer just enough to slip his team polo off. 

“Talking about our future now,” he teases, and I stick my tongue out at him as I help him shimmy his race overalls off. He sits on the bed in his boxers and cast on his left wrist, and I can’t help but giggle at the sight. He laughs along with me, flopping back onto the bed as I change into one of his t-shirts before following his movements.

“You know, I’m too tired to even shower,” I yawn, curling into his side. 

His injured arm lays next to him as his right arm curls around me, and he hums quietly, “Shower together in the morning? I’m going to need your help anyway.”

“You can’t wait, can you?” I can’t help but laugh at the ornery look on his face knowing he’s been caught. 

He shrugs, “Well, we have to be at least a bit productive, yeah?”

“You’re unbelievable,” I groan, reaching for my phone.

He watches me scroll on it, commenting on some of my friends’ posts as I scroll past. Daniel laughs each time another text from any of our friends or family appears at the top of my screen. After the eighth text, I turn to him, huffing as he clears hair from my eyes. 

“Do you think if I just post that you’re alive they’ll leave me alone for the night?”

He kisses my forehead, “I think it’s cute they know you’re my keeper, but if it gets everyone to leave you alone, go for it, babe. Plus, I need everyone in the paddock to know I have a cast so they’ll sign it tomorrow.”

“Oh my god, you really are unbelievable.”

“You love me for it!”

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, redbullracing and 548,908 others

yourusername getting used to switching what side we usually stand on to hold hands 🤍 dan-o is okay considering everything, and we're just grateful it isn't worse. as you can see, he never stopped smiling, and he has lots of treats that will absolutely not go to waste (sorry to his diet).

thank you to all the medical staff, lovely marshals and everyone checking in!! it's time for me to play nurse now 🫣

—

landonorris is playing nurse code for something you freaks

user1 mother is mothering guys (for real now)

danielricciardo think we can do this whole in sickness and in health thing together?

maxverstappen1 did you really just propose to her in her comments yourusername leave him alone right now he's fragile (but the answer is yes we can) danielricciardo get him sweetheart (I'll start working on the ring)

alphataurif1 glad to see our guy so well taken care of (we'll pretend we didn't see the sweets)! 💙

user2 the update we've all been waiting for 🥹

oscarpiastri looking forward to seeing you back on track mate 👊

yourbestfriend this feels like karma for uni when I had to drive you around with that bum ankle

danielricciardo why have I never heard about this? yourusername no reason yourbestfriend three too many bevvies

natalie_pinkham my favorite duo 💗 can't wait to see you both back at the track

[hotteoki]

ateez in the multiverse ?!

pairing: ot8 x reader (no prns used)

genre: fluff, crack, drabble

cw: mentions of weaponry in seonghwa's, minor injury in san's and mentions of alcohol but no consuming in wooyoung's

wc: 2k in total

notes: ik some of these are longer than the others but that's cause they were meant to be an actual fic until i lost inspo to continue it :c

extra: ty @daesukiii and @pyeonghongrie for beta reading!

barista!hongjoong

hongjoong is a barista, yes. one at a cat cafe, to be specific. he finishes preparing your drink, just the way you like it, and walks around the counter to personally deliver it to you. he spots you at your usual table in the corner, petting one of the cats perched on your lap. as he makes his way over to you with, one hand holding a slice of cake and the other holding your drink, he glances around the cafe. it’s relatively empty today, only one customer sitting at the other side of the cafe immersed in whatever is on his computer and hongjoong’s co-workers all mingling in the kitchen.

he sets your plates on the table, bending down to coo at the cat before pressing a quick but soft kiss on the tip of your nose. “joongie, i didn’t pay for this,” you give him a look, gesturing at the cake. he places a kiss on your forehead and beaming down at you, “on the house, honey.” he ignores your disapproving look and only continues petting the cat.

spy!seonghwa

you lay flat down on a rooftop, eyes peering through the optic sight of your sniper, waiting patiently for your target to step near his apartment window for you to take your shot. there’s shuffling every now and then through your microphone from your boss pacing around his office in agitation, and though it distracts you a little, you decide not to tell him. 

someone clears their throat behind you, and you immediately spin your head around, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife in your belt pocket. upon laying your eyes on the person’s steely eyes, you move your microphone closer to your mouth, “your rival’s best sniper is here too.” your boss groans aloud, “get him away and do your mission!” he cuts off the microphone in irritation, yet you know him well enough that he would come back on in a few minutes. 

seonghwa perches beside you with his own sniper, preparing it while attempting to start small talk with you, “hey, my love.” you scrunch your nose at his words, continuing to look through your optic sight while replying to him, “don’t call me that.” you can practically hear the pout in his voice without looking up as he whines your name. “why not?” he raises a hand to caress your cheek softly with the pad of his thumb. you finally move to glare at him, revelling in the way his figure shrinks back away from you in fear, “you hoarded the blanket last night! i was freezing my ass off!” 

seonghwa stares at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a short laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your cheek, “is that why you were all grumpy this morning? ah, well, i’m sorry, baby.” you frown at him, “you’re cooking dinner tonight. all my favourite dishes.” he caresses your cheek once again with his soft touch, “anything for my love.”

officer!yunho

you slink into an alleyway, marvelling at the empty wall in front of you. you pull the phone to check the time, you calculate how long you have left until you have to meet your blind date your friend so kindly set you up with. nodding to yourself after noting down the 20 minutes you have to spare, you unzip your tattered gym bag, beginning to pick out a series of colours to choose from. you settle on a mixture of white, pink and red, shaking the bottles and beginning to spray on the empty wall.

you’re nearly finished until you hear a loud ‘oi, you!’ at the end of the alleyway, only his silhouette visible to you. you freeze in your tracks, raising both your hands up, waiting for the man to make the next move. as the shadowy figure steps closer, you begin to make out his handsome features. a streetlight unveils his face mid way and your heart skips a beat. you’ve just laid eyes on the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. yet as the officer walks even closer, your instincts kick in. you drop the empty spray cans on the ground and swing your bag over your shoulder, making a run for it. 

you hear a loud police whistle behind you, calling you to stop. you ignore his commands, moving from one alleyway to another until the footsteps can’t be heard anymore. you check the time again, realising you had a few minutes left before your reservation. cursing underneath your breath, you step out of the hoodie and joggers you had on, grateful you wore your formal clothes underneath, shoving the comfortable clothing into the zip bag and throwing it in an empty cardboard box nearby. you make a note to come back and collect it later. 

you rush into the restaurant, following the server to one of the tables by the corner, sitting down at the seat opposite your date and apologising frantically for being late. when you hear him clear his throat, you lift your head up from your small bow, eyes widening and heart dropping at the sight of the police officer chasing you mere minutes ago with a glare on his face. “well shit.”

florist!yeosang

the familiar ring of the doorbell echoes around your aunt’s floral shop as you step in, the familiar aroma of flowers hitting your nose almost immediately. your eyes land on your aunt’s sole employee, yeosang, who was arranging a bouquet on the working table before he lifts his head up to welcome you. “hey yeosang, how are you?” his smile widens, the constant pink on his cheeks reddening, “good, good… um, your aunt’s upstairs.” you nod, sending him a grateful smile as you move around him towards the staircase. 

he calls out your name quickly, catching your attention. when you turn around to face him again, yeosang is holding a small bouquet consisting of white and pink roses, along with a few hydrangea decorating them. he avoids your eyes and mumbles quietly, “your secret admirer stopped by to give this to you again.” you smile softly, taking the bouquet from him; you already know yeosang is your admirer from the first time he wrote a note tagged on it and you recognised the familiar scrawl of his handwriting. 

you take it from his hands gingerly, “well, thank you. i’ll be sure to thank him.” you step closer, daring yourself to land a kiss on his flushed cheek, murmuring a “thank you” against his hot skin, turning around and leaving him standing in shock. 

boxer!san

you sit on his lap clutching several wipes in hand, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before getting to work. san smiles as you dab the cut on his cheek carefully, unable to look at your worried face clearly from his swollen black eye, yet knowing you’re trying to hold back your tears upon seeing him hurt. he tightens his grip on your waist as an attempt to make you look at him, which you comply. 

he flashes you another smile, speaking softly while bringing both hands up to cup your cheeks, caressing your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, “c’mon baby, you promised me you wouldn’t cry if i won.” you let out a sniffle, placing your hands on top of his large ones, stammering out, “i’m not crying.” san lets out a short laugh as your tears betray your words, rolling down and wetting his fingers. he nuzzles his nose with yours, chuckling at your quiet giggle, “how ‘bout we go get something to eat, hm? i’m starving.” 

guitarist!mingi

mingi sits on a stool, securing the chains you picked out earlier on his wrist, before putting on a few rings his bandmates gifted him for his birthday. he hesitates for a few seconds, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, holding up his ring-adorned hand for you to see, “you think this looks good, baby?” you let out a hum from behind him, tying his dyed hair into a half-up and stepping back to admire your handiwork with a smile, “what?” 

mingi waves his hand once to catch your attention, “how does this look?” you step around to stand in front of him, taking his hand and moving his rings around his fingers, mumbling under your breath about how he has no style. he lets out an offended gasp, interlocking his fingers with yours and tugging you closer to him, glaring up at you with a pout, “i have style.” you give him a sarcastic nod, “mhm.” 

a small whine elicits from him, pulling you closer to straddle his lap, grazing his lips over yours and muttering, “apologise, or i’m gonna be thinking about this all night. i’ll get distracted and the gig will be ruined. then hongjoong’s gonna tell me off for it and i’ll get sad. do you want that to happen to your cute boyfriend?” you roll your eyes at him, squeezing his hands, “you’re right. i’m sorry, min. you do have style, even better than mine, in fact, you big baby.” he gives you a satisfied grin at your words, kissing you gently.

frat boy!wooyoung

you swallow thickly, finding the loud booming in your ears unbelievably uncomfortable. you move to the kitchen where the drinks were, pouring a huge amount of alcohol in your red solo cup, raising it to your lips. the liquid barely touches your mouth until it’s pulled away from your hold and placed on the kitchen island counter. you look up at the culprit and can’t help but smile sheepishly at wooyoung as he gives you a frown, kissing your lips once. “why are you drinking, baby? you don’t like to drink.”

you look away from him, breathing deeply, “just thought i’d enjoy myself a little.” he stares at you blankly, leaning closer to you, speaking just loudly enough for you to hear his words, “i can always tell when you lie, baby.” you exhale through your nose, reluctantly answering him, “i’m not feeling very well.” he cups your cheeks with both his hands, thumb running over your cheekbones, “well, why didn’t you just say so?” you shrug, “i didn’t want the birthday boy’s night to be ruined by something so silly.” wooyoung gives you a stern look, shaking his head and clutching your hands, “you’re a hundred times more important than some stupid party, even if it’s mine. c’mon, let’s go get some fresh air outside.” 

model!jongho

you stand near the corner of the room, watching jongho move around in different poses to show off the extravagant clothes he's wearing from afar. the photoshoot soon ends and you move towards him, his coffee cup outstretched for him to hold. he takes it with a bright smile, rubbing your shoulder gratefully, “thank you.” you grin at the happiness radiating off of him, shaking your head, “it’s nothing. you go change out of your clothes, i’ll wait for you outside.”

“no,” he lets out a small whine, pulling you by your hand with his free one, lips forming into a tiny pout, “come to my dressing room with me.” you laugh a little at his antics, “jjongs, it’s only going to be a few minutes.” his pout grows, his grip on your hand tightening, “that’s a few minutes i could’ve spent with you.” “you’re like a giant, clingy teddy bear, gosh.” jongho sends you a gummy smile, “your giant, clingy teddy bear.” you can’t help but find him cringing at his own words absolutely adorable, finally nodding and giving in to his words, “lead the way then, bear.”

networks: @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films @pirateeznet

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 2- Was It Worth It?

Hello lovebugs. Welcome back to day two, we got a shortie blurb for all of you!

Fictober Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

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“Was it worth it?” Y/N grumbled as she gently wiped the cut on his forehead.

Harry had always been a hothead, but with a few drinks in him, his confidence flew. It flew all the way into a bar chair after trying to start a fight in the pub for a guy pulling Y/N close to his lap. She’d gone to report the creep for attempting something but had only gotten halfway through the crowded area when she heard someone yelling Harry’s name and for him to ‘chill out’.

 

The halloween trivia night had been a bust, it seems, but Y/N’s cat ears stuck well to her hair and her half assed attempt of a cat nose and whiskers had only smudged a tiny bit. She called that a win. The black bodysuit had been a hit with Harry, so much so that he had been extra touchy the whole night and kissing on her in the way that was gearing up for some fun at home.

The fight had sobered them both up, Y/N hissing when she saw the blood down her boyfriend’s face. It was a halloween theme so thankfully no one gave them much of a second look when they got into the uber, but she was annoyed he wouldn’t let her bring him to a hospital. 

“It was.” He hummed, pawing at her hips. Y/N was ignoring it mentally, but her body was only so strong. “Totally worth it. I told you I’d always protect you, my sweet girl. Always. And yeah, probably shouldn’t have thrown hands but he commented on your ass when I was going to tell him off so…” He shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully the only injuries seemed to be a superficial cut and a few split knuckles. Still she was going to keep him awake in case of a concussion. 

“You can keep me safe by not throwing hands in the middle of a pub.” She squeezed his chin, giving him a look as she finished tending to the head wound. They bled a lot and it was intimidating no matter what. 

“Hm. Maybe.” He pulled her in between his split legs. “I’m never going to not defend your honor. You’re my love. S’fucked if I just let someone say shit. And then they touch you?” He went to raise his brow but winced, the tender skin making him grunt. “Fucks sake. It was worth it, though. It’ll heal up and maybe I’ll have a cool scar and you can always remember who loves you enough to get his arse handed to him.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, squishing his cheeks before placing a kiss to his mouth. “Fair enough, babe. Fair enough.” She was just glad she didn’t have to bail him out with a cat tail tied around her waist. “Get in the shower and wash the blood off of your hair so I can finish this up.” Her hands smacked his thighs, the sound echoing in the bathroom. “And before you ask, no. I will not join you. I will sit here and make sure you don’t pass out, god forbid, but if I step in there you will give yourself more of a headache trying to touch me.” 

She knew exactly how that would go. Harry wasn’t at all subtle when his shoulders fell, a groan leaving his lips as he stood up from the sink. “Fine. Only because this means you forgive me and you won’t be mad anymore.” He sang over his shoulder as he strolled over to the shower stall to turn on the water. “ No taking it back!”

[nanaloco]

hi sorry to bother you. I just wanted to request an nct dream scenario for when their s/o scratches their back? Preferably with extra fluff 😅

How Nct Dream react when their s/o scratches their back

Oh my god anon that's so cute 😭😭😭 I had to write one for each member when I saw this!

I tried to make each members story unique and different so you might not like some of them but I hope it's still a good read ♡

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff, sad mark, minor injury? (Jeno fell off his bike), I didn't proofread this!! I wanted to write this for this anon but I've got exams soon

Genre : Nct Dream x gn!reader

Mark

It was when he was half asleep, he had a really bad day today and all he could think about after a bad day was being clung to your side with his head on your chest, enjoying your soft touch which sends his stomach spinning. You've got your arms around him as he starts to quietly sob, you slowly run your fingers along his back, grazing your fingernails gently on the thin fabric of his loose black tee. 'I'm not too sure what happened today to make you feel like this, but just know I'm always here for you when you need me ok?' A muffled 'ok' is all you get out of the stuffy nosed mark as you wipe his tears and kiss his forehead. He lowers his head as your hands make their way to his back, 'want to talk about what happened today?' You feel the vibration of his throat as he humms. 'Well, everyone and everything is just reminding me how uncapable I am, of a lot of things really. I just keep messing everything up. I feel like I'm not good enough and I just want to give up'.

'Well I'm not too sure what Mark you know, but my boyfriend, the Mark lee I know is amazing in every possible way.' You say with a warm smile on your face as your fingers start rubbing his back, slowly turning into a soft scratching motion which Mark loved the feeling of; he appreciated you so much. 'He's also very talented, and very very smart.' You scratched his chin and with that his eyelids slowly start to become heavy. Hearing your sweet affirming words had him feeling much better, the light scratch was a new feeling and he loved every second of it.

Renjun

You were just chilling on the bathroom stool while he was bathing carrying out your usual stalking behaviours of following your boyfriend who you so much adored absolutely everywhere. You had been showing him funny tiktok videos you've found while scrolling along your for you page for the past hour. 'Since you forced the door open, you might aswell be useful' you raise your hand to your chest as you acted shocked and hurt. 'Since your here, please could you wash my back for me? I can't reach too easily since I have suuuch broad shoulders' you roll your eyes but are totally loving the idea. You grab his pink loofa and squirt some of your expensive bubble bath formula onto it and begin to clean his ' broad' shoulders and back, covering every inch with the velvety pearly white bubbles. Ditching the loofa, you carress and lather the soap into his back in circular motions, you begin doing the same circular movement on his back with your nails gaving him a mini nail massage. He moves closer to the edge of the tub so you have better access, 'that feels really nice' he says with s smile on his face, slowly closing his eyes; you then gently wipe away the bubbles from the hairline on the back of his head and tell him to move to the middle so you can wash all the bubbles off. You scoop up water and drench his back with water from his shoulders down, bringing your hands down in carressing scratches along with the water. You give a chaste kiss to his nape while scooping up some bubbles into your hand secretly, he turns around confused at the sudden kiss and to his surprise, you bring out your secret weapon, spreading them onto his chin like santa; lauging like a maniac at the ridiculously serious expression spread across his face for someone rocking a bubble beard. 'Oh it's on' he declared while grabbing a handful of bubbles and slapping them onto you face, laughing hysterically at how fast your smile faded. 'HEY!' You exclaim almost falling into the tub trying to grab him 'I promise you I'll remember this, so don't forget what you did today.' You grimace as you wipe yout face with his face towel and throw it at him, walking out leaving the door open so all the warm air can escape before he can make it out the tub. 'Baby- I'm-I'm sorry!' He yells between his uncontrollable laughter, you're just too sickeningly cute.

Jeno

He had a bike accident (consisting of driving his bike down a ramp and forgetting to break, crashing into the wall and some how landing ontop of his bike on his back) which he insists hurts way more than it sounds. He claims he doesn't need to go to hospital and communicates to you the importance of you giving him a massage and that that's all he needs. So today, Prior to your scheduled 'make Jeno feel better-cuddle-sesh' (named by him) you planned to give him a nice muscle relaxing massage following the tutorial you watched on youtube shortly after you recieved his phonecall sharing the 'horrible news' and making plans on how you're gonna make him feel better.  You had prepared some candles for him and when he came through the door, you gave him a tight hug around the waist and grabbed his hand dragging him to the sofa, he follows along scraping his feet along the floor pouting his lips. You lead him to the couch where you took off his coat and felt around his back as he winced in pain.  'My baby's really hurt hmmm' you frown. You practice what you learnt from youtube, losely following the circular hand movements from the tutorial, he groaned in approval, he made it seem like a joke but he really was injured. You instruct him to take off his shirt as you hurry to your feet to grab an an ice pack from the freezer. You sit down next to him and he rests his chin on your thigh, you smoothed the pack of frozen peas along his bruised back. You then start to skim your nails lightly along to soothe the pins and needles from the contact with the cold pack. You could feel his tense muscles start to relax. 'You always know what to do to make me feel better'

Jaemin

Jaemin walks through the door with a grin on his face happy to see you,he rushes to the couch you're lying on, gently sitting next to you and he softly peppers kisses all over your face 'aaa! You're so cute, let me take care of you' he says, lifting your head onto his lap and carressing your hair. You block his hands and sit up, to stare at him with a serious expression 'no, today, I'm gonna take care of you.' You say straddling his lap and cupping his face, squishing his cheeks to the point where his eyes close and pressing a short sweet  peck on his stretched out lips. 'What are you going to do' he barely makes out as you're still squeezing the life out of him, lowering his hands to rest on your hips. You swing your legs around his waist to hug him on his side with your back facing the longer side of the couch, wraping your arms around his neck and pulling backwards causing him to topple over and land on top of you. 'Move down u idiot' he obeys squirming down the couch and his legs are sticking up into the air from the knees down due to the couch's arm rest. The couch obviously isn't big enough for the two of you but he's not going to ruin your moment. 'I'm gonna take care of you' you kiss his temple and start carresing his back leaving small scratches as he took in your sweet addictive natural scent 'I love you' he mumbles against your arm, you leave sweet trails of soft scratches down his back. In your mind you were totally wooing him with your romantic tactics but in reality, this couch was way too small for the two of you and his butt was hanging in the air. But for Jaemin, he wouldn't rather be anywhere else but in your arms. Because this is so perfect and just so you. You decided you're going to take care of him today and he just loves The idea of that

Haechan

He enters your bedroom in your shared appartment where you were sitting up against the headboard, peacefully playing silly little games on your phone when he comes leaping at you; 'babbyy' practically throwing himself onto your still figure, head in your lap, snaking his arms around your waste with his cheek pressed against your stomach. 'Look at meee' your eyes were still glued to your phone as you've almost completed level 30 of doors on roblox. He gives you grabby hands so you put your elbow on his head to move him out of the way so you can focus. He lets you stay like that sighing as you get through door 30 and just win your mini goal 'YES!!' you exclaim happily as you'd been stuck on that level for a while. 'Sorry what were u saying?' He turns over onto his back, 'Give me attention' he says bringing your hand to his lips 'anything for my patient boyfriend' you say cupping his cheeks 'what can I do for you?' 'Can you scratch my back I need your touch right now' you tickle his stomach as if to answer 'of course' and he starts to whine and squirm, then you trace your hands to his hair. He turns back to his previous position with his arms around your waist. 'I want to eat you' as he makes a threatening facial expression pretenting to eat your stomach, you feign a gasp and make a soft scratching motion from his scalp to his lower back. Melting into your touch, his eyes slowly flutter close. In love with the sensation of your touch, he grabs your hand and puts it through the neckhole of his sweater leading you to his bare skin. 'Ah.. I'm seriously in love with you'

Chenle

You two were just coming from the grocery store he dragged you out of bed to 'chenlee I'm so tired of walking I hate you'

'Welllll I can get you a ride?' He replies smugly 'PLEASE THANK YOU MY LEGS ARE ABOUT TO GIVING IN' you say thanking god that you don't have to walk another step. He puts the groceries in his hands onto the floor and kneels down infront of you 'Chuber at your service, the boyfriend uber service' you deadpan at him, walking straight past his ridiculous antics; he giggles as he follows, still on his knees infront of you with that pisstaking grin on his face. You sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around his neck, he retaliates by quickly standing up and sticking his butt out causing you to fling your legs out 'CHENLE'. You can practically hear his cocky smirk as he stands up straight and goes back to collect your groceries 'Chenle I'm far too old to be getting piggy back rides' 'It's keeping the romance aliiive!' You can only roll your eyes. You've got quite a bit to walk until you two can get to your appartment, he's staying over tonight so you went to get his snacks because 'you don't know how to get good snacks' 'Y/n my head itches, can you scratch the left side, my hands are obviously full' you can tell he rolled his eyes. 'It's because your head is covered with dandruff' you retaliate and stick your tongue out. You lightly separate his bone straight dark brown hair and scratch exactly where he needed it, slowly making your way to his nape, reverting to wrapping your arms around his front and scratching his sides which he responds to with laughter and slightly starts to sway 'that tickles' he says between breaths of laughter. You start scratching his upper back and he can feel the soft stroaks through his fabric winter coat, It was soothing. 'That feels really nice.' He almost wanted to close his eyes but he'll have to save that for when he's at your house cozy in your blankets with you in his arms.

Jisung

This baby managed to get sun burnt because he forgot sunscreen yesterday on your vacation with his and your group of friends. Him and his friends had been playing volleyball while your group hit the pool. He got lightly sunburnt so now hes sat imbetween your outstretched legs as you applying some remedy oil to his skin, along with some sunscreen. 'You seriously need to be more careful jisung, you're not a little kid anymore, seriously' he lowers his head and starts tracing shapes on your shin, you lightly copy those shapes into his sunscreen covered back with your nails. 'Ah!' He whined, you give a worried expression as you ask 'am I hurting you?' One hand brought to your mouth for dramatic effect, retracting your hands to rest them on his hips 'no it feels nice, don't stop, I'm just really ticklish on my back' he confessed shyly laughing. 'actually, this feels kind of nice'. Well! You say quickly rising to your feet as a sheepish smile follows, you look ridiculous, time to capture my amazing artwork you say as you make that picture frame motion; closing one eye to look at your masterpiece through your lense, you see jisung has turned around and is staring at you with those googly eyes. You turned quickly to find your phone ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

Tysm for reading and thank you anon for giving me such a cute theme to work with!

Asks don't bother me at all I love replying to these so flood ky ask box guys!!

I love you all SOOOOO MUCH mwah!

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 12

a/n: I love pining, i really do

Warnings: depictions of a toxic relationship, canon typical mentions of violence/injuries.

Word count: 2.5k

Other chapters

“Why do you say things like that?” 

It was ridiculous. In the darkness of the dungeons it was almost impossible to tell when she was awake or asleep. The only grip to reality and the waking world would be when Eris would come to bring her food and water or when his father would visit. Beron never stayed for long, at first he would interrogate her, quickly get irritated when she wouldn’t say anything and then knock her out. The ways he knocked her out got more creative as the days blurred. The first time it was a straight punch to her right eye. The second, he brought a thick book to deliver a firm blow to the back of her head. The third she couldn’t remember. Recently, he’s resorted to putting a soaked  cloth over her nose and mouth and waiting until she inhales the putrid substance. It usually takes a few seconds for her to be out cold. He doesn’t ask questions anymore. When she wakes up the wound on her arm is fresh. 

Since Beron has altered his methods, the dreams seem to slip into the darkness of the dungeon. Sometimes they are based on the recent horrors she has come to experience. It's silly really, but the dreams that hurt the most are those that remind her of the past.

 “Sweetheart, I’m just being honest” he always prided himself in being sincere. 

“You’re being mean” he knew it, too. But that was the darkness Mathew carried. The sword he wielded and sharpened with her. His laughter made her skin crawl, he enjoyed the fighting. “Don’t be an idiot, I’m just saying that that dress doesn’t look good on you anymore”. How do I respond to that? “And you think telling me that five minutes before we leave is helpful?” He shrugs “it gives you five minutes to change”. She ground her teeth and walked back into the bedroom.

She must look and smell like hell. Her hands can’t run through her hair anymore. The strands are stuck together with a mixture of sweat and blood. She knows she’s pale because she hasn’t seen the sun in days or maybe weeks at this point. But her skin is covered in bruises, scrapes, dried blood and dirt. 

“You know I love you” she cringes at the memory of those words followed by cold dominating touches down her back. He would always remind her. After every fight and every insult those words would be loaded like bullets on a shotgun. She sighed with relief when a familiar glow appeared from the stairs.

Eris had been having trouble keeping up appearances and doing his usual tasks as heir in between plotting to get y/n out and far away from Beron’s grasp. It took every bit of restraint that he possessed to not slice his father’s head clean off. Each day she was more pale, she had new bruises and a fresh layer of blood would be coating her never healing arm. He had managed to convince his father to let her out so she could bathe and be fitted for a dress for the ball. “If you want to be convincing I can’t have a walking corpse as my escort” Eris had told him. He made a point to let his disgust show. “And leave her face alone, it is already difficult enough to stand being near her” that last line had been a risk. But as far as he could tell, her face had been left untouched. She had told him they were drugging her now. He didn’t know which was worse. 

“Hi” her soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Hello” he said back and kneeled down at the grates with a bowl of soup. She crawled over and sat in front of him. “How do you feel today?” It was a dumb question, but he always asked. She swallowed a few spoonfuls before answering “the same, I feel extra gross today”. He nodded “tomorrow someone will come get you to take a bath and get fitted for a dress”.  She didn’t say anything until she had finished the bowl. “I don’t know if I can even walk let alone dance at a ball” he held her hand through the grate. “I’ll have a healer come by during your fitting, the ball is three days away. Just three days, y/n, and you’re out”. She was so cold. The once lilac coat she wore was a brownish grayish color now, but it remained intact. “Why are you so cold? Does that coat not work?” She shook her head “the coat is fine, but I don’t know. I feel the cold in my bones” he sighs and motions for her to get closer. He opens his palms in front of her and lights two small fires “try to warm up”. With more light he can see the dark circles under her eyes and how dry and chapped her lips are. Usually she’s a thing of beauty and radiance. But down here she’s a poor soul trying to stay alive. 

“It's very convenient you can wield fire” she says, her face has regained the slightest bit of color and her posture is more relaxed. “I almost forgot” he pulls out a piece of chocolate cake he had taken from the kitchens and hands it to her “dessert”. She lights up when she sees the slice. “This looks delicious” he smiles, for a second, “dig in” and hands her a fork. He had to leave after an hour. It got harder with every visit. 

Azriel could count on one hand the number of hours he had slept since he found out she was being held hostage. The only thing keeping him somewhat sane was the knowledge that she was alive. But he knew where she was and who was in charge of her and that made him sick.  “I say we wait until the ball is in full swing and sneak her out through one of the back rooms. Winnow her back to Velaris” Rhysand suggested. But Azriel stepped in “they’ll take precautions so she isn’t left alone”. They had been debating how to get her out without declaring war on Autumn for hours and had not come to one single agreement. 

She flinched when she was met with the bright lights of the main level of the Forest House. They had dragged her up the stairs, through the servants quarters and hidden passages and into a luxurious bedroom where they had dropped her like a heap on the floor. She hadn’t walked properly in days now. With hands placed on the floor and knees braced to hold her weight, she pushes herself up slowly and manages to stay balanced for a few steps until she reaches an armchair. Letting herself melt into the soft cushions she moans at the feeling. This room reminded her of the one she used to have in the House of Wind. That seems so far away now. The bed is huge and perfectly made. There is a large window across from where she’s sitting and she can see that Autumn remains intact. She wonders how Muriel is doing since she's been gone. Gone. The word felt like a punch to the gut. Mindlessly she brings her hand to her stomach and winces. Beron had stopped hitting her face but he would kick her sometimes. There was a desk, littered with mountains of papers. Why would they bring me here? This is clearly someone’s room. She tenses when the door to the room opens. Eris walks in. He sighs with relief and scans her from head to toe. “Good, you made it” she was gaping “are you crazy?”  He helps her get up from the chair “this is better than buckets”. 

Eris walked her to the bathing room and filled the tub. “Take your time” he says and motions to where the towels and a fresh set of clothes are. Taking her clothes off took so much effort she was out of breath. Getting in the tub was tedious but she made it and groaned as the perfectly warm water enveloped her.  

She scrubbed every inch of her body and hoped the dark marks would wash away. But realized that she is trying to scrub away bruises. Sighing, she inspects her arm. A thin scab had formed along the gash. It was around this time each day that Beron would visit her and slice it open again. She washed her hair at least five times. Hands pruned by the time she got out. 

When she stepped out of the bathing room Eris was waiting for her with an older lady. “You look better,” he said. She hadn’t been brave enough to look in the mirror. “At least I’m clean” he helps her back to the chair. “This is Sylvia, she’s a healer. You can trust her. I need to leave for a while but I’ll be back soon” he leaves the room. 

Sylvia tells her she is dehydrated, anemic and sleep deprived. She rubs a salve all over her bruises and a different one on her forearm. Then, makes her lay down on the bed, tucks her in, under the thick earth toned covers and tells her to sleep. 

The feeling of slightly sinking wakes her. Eris is sitting at the end of the bed, hands covering his face. “What’s wrong?” He looks at her and tenses, “nothing, did you get some sleep?” She nods “like a baby”. “Your fitting is soon” right, the ball. “Tell me again how you are planning to sneak me out during a very public event?” Eris helps her get out of the bed “it’s better if you don’t know” she hums “that is not reassuring” he sighs “it’s the best I can do”. 

“The High Lord wants you in Autumn Court colors” the seamstress says as she inspects y/n. Her hands are perched on her hips as she circles the girl. “Orange would wash you out, maybe a deep cool tone green will do” she says and brings out swatches of fabrics. She pulls out measuring tape and jots down your measurements as she takes them. 

After the fitting, the same guards from the morning took her back to the dungeons. Two more days. Two more days and I’m out. 

She shivered as cold claws pierced her abdomen. Her scream was muffled by something slimy. The claws scraped down her skin, leaving three jagged lines in their wake. She struggled, as much as she could, but she was pinned against a tree. Presented like a meal. She could see the stones in front of her, behind the creature that suckled at her wounds. The sickening sound of its slurping made bile rise in her throat. Just kill me. But the thing was taking its time, playing with its food. 

When the guards came to get her she was catatonic. 

When Eris saw her he thought she had been broken. 

“Leave us” he ordered. Stepping closer he could tell that the bruises that had been visible were mostly healed. Her arm still raw. “Hey, are you there?” She didn’t look at him directly but nodded. “You’re getting out today, after the ball, everything is worked out” his voice a gentle whisper. Her bottom lip quivered and he rushed forward as her knees gave out “I can’t do it, I can’t” she hadn’t cried in so long. Fat salty tears poured down her cheeks “you can” Eris held her up, and brought her to his chest. She was shaking “this is a nightmare. I can’t do it anymore” he rubs her back, trying to warm her up. “It will be over soon,” she continued to weep. Not believing him. 

Azriel had never wanted to kill someone more than when he saw Beron enter the throne room in the Court of Nightmares. He and his wife walked in first, not looking at each other. They were followed by their middle sons. All dressed elegantly and carrying themselves as the royalty they were. Eris and y/n were the last to enter.

Azriel hated the way she clung to him like a lifeline. How her eyes didn’t meet his. How she had gone pale, her skin translucent. They had dressed her in a long sleeved dark green gown that matched Eris’ suit perfectly. Her hair was in loose waves and a golden tiara was placed on her head. Her neck was adorned with a gold necklace that, in his opinion, resembled a collar and there was an emerald ring on her left hand. There was no denying she looked stunning, but her eyes were gaunt and her lips were set in a thin line, a borderline frown. Her head hung low.

The dancing began. Eris was keeping her upright and leading her through dances that she did not know. It had been so long since she had heard music. A few times during the night she let her eyes close and moved with the rhythm of her own accord.

Azriel hated how he could smell her and hear her voice whisper in Eris’ ears but could not touch her. He could not rip his hands off her.  How he could not take her back to her room, which remained untouched since she had left. He hated how he could not be certain that she would remain unharmed. 

She couldn’t say she was having fun, not really. Her mind constantly going to the Shadowsinger lurking by the dias. She could feel his eyes on her and she fought against every fiber of instinct to not look at him. Eris had warned her of his father’s intentions. Which is why she tensed as the High Lord of Autumn called everyone’s attention. 

“I believe this is the perfect opportunity to make an announcement very pertinent to the future of Autumn, if you’ll allow me Rhysand” he practically sneers. The crowd murmurs. She swallows, knowing what is about to come. Rhysand waves his hand in disinterest but not objection. 

“There is to be a wedding, between my son and the newest resident of the Forest House. Join me in congratulations to Eris and Y/n” Beron lifts his glass of sparkling wine, as does the crowd. Y/n and Eris remain quiet and unmoving, no hint of elation at the announcement of their nuptials. 

Eris found the scheme to be laughable. Pretending to marry his heir to a human girl with no land or gold or title was absurd. But Beron played dirty, and he’d do anything to further his agenda.

Azriel’s siphons flared, reacting to his growing fury. He needed to calm down. There was a plan in place to get her out.

He needed to be patient and play his part.

taglist: @luvmoo @leeknows-wife

[b00ks1ut]

I Got Your Back

Eugene Roe x GN!Reader

Warnings! Alcohol consumption, harassment, blood, mild violence, swearing, mild injury, my attempt at writing lol, I’m really hoping I got all the big stuff

This is based only off the tv series and I intend no offense to the real men of Easy Company or any veterans

Sorry if this is bad! I had such bad block while writing this and for some reason it’s taken me like 4 months to complete this short little thing😭 anyways I’m hoping it’s not horrible!

Also this was written for @executethyself35! Thank you so much for being so amazing and I’m so so sorry this has taken 5 and 1/2 years lol You’re amazing and literally the best <3

The bar was loud and stuffy and crowded, but it was fully of paratroopers, what did you expect? You were sat at a little round table, crowed with too many men; most now at least tipsy and all thourally enjoying the rare weekend pass that Sobel didn't take from them.

"You need another drink?" Eugene barely had to lean over in his chair to reach your ear due to the cramped situation that was your table.

"Oh, yeah. I'll get 'em this time, you got the last ones." You told him turning towards the medic sat next you, your noses nearly touching, and you had to almost lean back to stop yourself from bumping into him.

"No, I ain't gonna make you do that." He began to reach for your now empty glass but you quickly stopped his hand from fully grasping the cup.

"Please, I've gotta spend all this extra paratrooper money," you joked, pushing his hand away and giving it a quick squeeze. You quickly stood and grabbed his mug, not giving him a chance to object.

You had made it hardly 6 feet away from the occupied table, through the impossibility close crowd, when an unknown man had stepped into your path. You had attempted to step around him but it was no use, this man was a wall unwilling to move.

"I'm sorry is there a chance you could move please?" If he wasn't going to read your very obviously uninterested body language then he could hopefully read you as equally uninterested lips.

"Now how about I don't do that and instead take you home?" He was handsome in his own way, he definitely wasn't ugly but was certainly not your type.

"Oh no thank you, I'm just trying to get a couple of drinks for me and friend." You again tried to step around him but he kept moving in a step in front of you. You looked around hoping to catch someone's eye but for how many people were the damn bar you couldn't seem to catch the eye of a single you knew. "I'd really appreciate it if you just let me get my drink."

"How about if I let you get your drink, you'll owe me a drink." He was smirking to himself like this normally worked for him, intimidating people into dancing and sleeping with him. Now that you thought about it, maybe he wasn't just not your type; maybe he just wasn't everybody's type so he had to resort to this sad creepy behavior that definitely was getting him nowhere.

"They don't owe you a damned thing." The familiar Cajun accented voice had reached your ears before you were even aware he was nearby. "How about you get a move on now and we'll all have just a fine and dandy of the night."

"I don't think so no." This man was either the biggest piece of shit or was denser than fuck and you were certain it was the former. Before you could think of a response he had grabbed your arm and began trying to pull you away. As if it were second nature you took the glass in your hand and brought down hard on his hand.

The glass shattered. Pieces flying in all directions but most of the pieces finding their home in the back of the man's hand.

"You fucking whore!" He had quickly ripped his hand away cradled it in his other hand.

"I'm the whore here? I'm not sure what Not want to have sex with you makes me a whore but if it means you'll leave me alone then I'll make it a badge wear it on my uniform." You weren't sure where this attitude was coming from and you had nothing else to blame it on than your last few drinks and the current adrenaline racing through your veins.

The man was still standing there dumbstruck when you turned around to find Gene standing there. His eyes scanned across your face before leaping down the arm the man had just grabbed you by.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became increasingly more concerned when he noticed the cuts on my arm from a few stray pieces of glass. His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I’ll getcha patched up.” He hadn’t left any room for argument but you might as well try.

“I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.” But by the time the reply had left your lips Eugene already had your hand in his and was walking towards the door.

“You can’t just leave them glass pieces in, it’ll never get better.”

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it.” Why complain when the most attractive man you’ve ever met was asking to take care of you. Only an idiot would pass that up.

Cool dark of outside was a welcome change from the stuffy pub and you relished in it, not having had a break from the heat of George in a while.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was just a low rumble and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he had now turned around and faced you, still holding your hand. “I shoulda gone with you to get drinks and I shoulda done more. I just-“ He ran his other hand over his face before rubbing the back of his neck.

“Gene, you have nothing the apologize for. I was the one who insisted I get the drinks, I was the one who couldn’t get myself out of the situation. It’s on me, not you.” You gave his hand a squeeze and his arm a little tug, causing him to finally look at you after staring at this boots this whole time. “But none of that matters anymore, he’s gone and now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What about your arm? I can’t let you just ignore it.” He was looking at you with such concern and care and all you could do was stare. Yeah staring is rude but how could you not? His short hair was sticking up in different places from him running his hands through it and the light from the bar was casting a beautiful glow that made his eyes sparkle in a way you never saw them before.

He was gorgeous. Not that you’d never noticed this before, but the realization hit you like a truck and it completely stole your breath; he stole your breath.

“Ma joie?” His voice brought you back, a flush spreading across your face.

“Huh? Sorry.” You realized you were still holding his hand, and finally let it drop. The warmth of the rough skin of his was quickly wicked away by the night air.

“Where’d you go?” He was looking at you like you mattered, like you were more than a body. More than a number. More than the shell that Sobel had been working you down to.

“Sorry… um just distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you need help with your arm.” His eyes left yours to flick down to the still bloody and leaky cut of your arm.

“Oh. I can handle it on my own.” You were kicking yourself the moment the words left your mouth. The best man you’ve ever met wants to take care of you, and you can’t seem to let him.

“I really was just askin’ to be nice but there’s no way I’m letting you take care of this yourself. And I’m especially not letting you make your way back to base when filth like him are around.”

“I can hold my own, I was just wasn’t trying to make a scene in there.” You didn’t know why you kept making these excuses for him to leave you. You didn’t want him to walk away, every bit of yourself wanted to jump on him but a bit of you was too scared of just a little bit of rejection to have him just patch you up.

“I’m not doubting that you could but I am worried you might be a little drunk and that if I don’t help you get that arm cleaned up you’ll be nice and infected in a week.” He had a point, a good point he made a few times now. And what is there to be scared of with him. Eugene Roe is quite possibly one of the kindest most caring people you know what is there to be worried about, if you messed up and made a move he would react completely responsibly.

But for some reason you kept fighting it.

“I just don’t want to be a bother. Go have fun, Gene, I didn’t mean to upturn the night. I’m sure everyone is waiting for you in there.”

“Nope. Not a chance I’m leaving. You’re stuck here with me, and it’s cold and dark so while I’d love to continue this amazing little conversation I really think it might be our best interest to start the trip back to base.”

I was obvious he was done with the back and forth so you let it drop.

—————————

It wasn’t long until you were back where you needed to be. All of the light posts were turned on but no one was out and about save for the few drunk-ish men stumbling from barrack to barrack. Many of the lights to the cabins were on and laughter and conversation could be heard from the people within them.

Gene grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dark, unlit medic tent. The walk a short and easy trek through the mazes of buildings, as he seemed to know where the tent was and could get you there with his eyes closed walking backwards.

You quietly arrived to the temporary shelter and are met with… nothing. No noise, no startling smell; just more dark. And the awareness that you’re all alone with Eugene.

He continues to tug you over to a table set up in the center of the room. A few crates next to them that he immediately begins to rummage through.

“Can I help with anything?” Your voice cuts through the quiet, just barely above a whisper.

“No, I got it.” He pauses briefly to look at you, never really stopping his hands from sifting through the supplies.

“Eugene, please. I want to help you, how can I help? Even just a little bit, I feel like I’m just in the way.”

“You can help by sitting yourself up on that table there and letting me take care of you. That’s all I ask, that you let someone take care of you; even if it’s just this one time.” His tone was soft, his accent showing through the caring tone. He had grabbed all of the items from the crate and was just staring at you. Looking at you.

Slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Gene set the supplies on the table and stepped to you. His thighs brushing your knees

Everything about him was stunning. From his heavily disheveled hair all the way down to his spit shined boots, he was perfect.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice had come out uneven and hoarse, barely audible even in the quiet evening.

“What for?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me all night and I keep pushing you away. I don’t know why, I think I’m just scared. I mean… we ship off in just a few weeks and then anything could happen. I can’t go getting attached to anyone; especially you.” You averted your gaze to the ground so you wouldn’t have to see his face when he realized what a horrible coward you are.

But, instead of him lashing out and leaving you his hand gently came to your chin, tilting back up, forcing you to look at him again.

“I don’t blame you for that. We’re all terrified, but what’s the point of being here if we’re not going to make the most of it while we can. Why die regrettin’ what’s right in front of you when you all you gotta do is reach a little and grab it. I’m scared that some of the best people I’ve met are not going to come back and I might be included in that but I’m also scared that I’m not gonna take the beautiful opportunity I have right now… with you.” His gaze was soft and gentle. He looked quickly at your lips before taking a small step back. “But I should probably patch you up first.”

“I’m fine.” You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to yourself until your lips met. Eugene didn’t move, he stayed completely still. You quickly pulled away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t ask. I just assumed-“

His lips swiftly covered yours. You returning the affection. His lips soft and gentle against yours, still tasting of the ale he left back at the pub.

It was all over before you could completely let yourself get absorbed into him. His soft breaths fanned over your face as his forehead tenderly connected with yours.

“Can I get you fixed up now?” A playful glint in his eye, and a blush so bright you could still see it in the dark, adorned his face.

“I suppose I’ll allow it.” Your smile morphing into a smirk.

He picked up a pair of tweezers, from the pile he had set next to you, pinching them at you jokingly.

“Let me know if I hurt you.” He gently grabbed your arm by the elbow and maneuvered it to where he needed it. The contact from him, although little, had a fresh blush creep up your neck.

“I’m sure that I’ll be fine.”

You soon learned that was not true. Once he had gotten all of the biggest pieces out of your arm, his search for the tinier shards started. You tried to muffle your winces but everyone he’d stop and wait until your face had returned to neutral.

“Ma joie, please let me know when I hurt you. I don’t have much left to get but I hate to be hurting you, so let me know so I can stop it.” Gene had set down the tweezers so he could hold your hands.

“I’m not hurting. I’m completely fine.” Your lie was obvious but he was doing enough for you already that why would you interrupt his process just because you’re not completely comfortable.

“Alright then.” He picked the tweezers up again and got the last few pieces out, still pausing whenever you flinched a little too hard. He then proceeded to do the most gentle cleaning and wrapping ever performed in history. He rinsed out the area, dabbing away all the water like if he pressed too hard your arm would fall off. Then he wrapped it all up in a sterile bandage, asking if it was too tight every two wraps around your bicep. “All done!”

You went to slide off the table but his hands held you in place. “I thought we were done?” He just stared, emotion clear in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you again?” You surprised yourself with the question. You had been thinking the thought since it happened the first time just 30 minutes before.

“Of course you can.” His hands came up to your face, cupping your cheeks and lead you together.

I was the same but different from the first kiss. This one wasn’t hesitant or awkward as you tried to find your placement, you meshed perfectly. Your lips moving over each others in perfect harmony. Little puffs of air from his nose tickling your lashes, and the way he smiled into the kiss had you melting into his hands.

Your arms went up his chest to his shoulders, stopping to loop around his neck; your fingers curling slightly into his hair. All of Eugene was surrounding you, his smell, his taste, his entire presence was all you could comprehend in the moment.

He eventually pulled away, breathing heavy. Eyes slowly opening back up to look into yours.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you said it. You were saying for the man that left you alone when he arrived. You were saying it for the bandage snuggly tied around your bicep. You were saying it for the breath taking kiss you just had. But most of all you were saying it for the man that was going to be there for you in every moment he could be.

“I got your back; through it all.” He squeezed your hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And I yours.”

[dailydragon08]

Nightmare I

See my full masterlist and read on AO3 here!

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: Luke gives you all the touch and comfort you need during a rough night. Warnings: reader has a nightmare (but it isn't described), Star Wars universe curse words. A/N:  "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

***

You watched rain slide down the Redeemer’s front windshield, the crashing thunder in the distance a comfort you didn’t know you needed. You and Luke had located another Force artifact on the jungle planet of Kenari and landed your ship near the cave it was supposedly found in. Since it was getting dark and the current storm had no intention of letting up, you and Luke had opted to get some sleep and start out in the morning instead. 

You sighed as you dug through your bag where it lay on the main hold’s large, circular table. “Kriff.”

“What’s wrong?” Luke turned from where he was tinkering with R2 in the corner. 

“I forgot to pack enough nightshirts,” you grumbled. You lifted a shirt you’d worn previously on this trip to your nose, barely biting back your gag at the smell. “Well, definitely not that one.”

“Here.” Luke quickly disappeared into his bedroom—which had been converted from one of the imperial shuttle’s many cargo holds, just like yours—before emerging with a large dark shirt in his hands. He almost looked nervous as he held it out to you. “I always keep a stash of clothes onboard, just in case, so I have extra.”

You hesitantly reached out to take the soft black fabric in your hand. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you if you need it.”

He smiled softly and nodded. “I’m sure.”

You held his eyes for a moment before taking the shirt in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Borrow it as long as you need to.” He turned his focus back to the astromech in front of him. “I’m almost done with R2’s repairs and then I’ll be heading to bed, too. But let me know if I’m too loud.”

“I will.” You paused in your bedroom doorway, clutching the soft fabric in your hand. “Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You let the door close behind you with a whoosh, staring at the shirt in your hand before taking a deep breath and shedding your clothes. You didn’t usually sleep in pants, but as you let Luke’s shirt fall over your shoulders, found it sank down mid-calf on you anyway. The v-neck that only exposed his collarbones went much lower on you, your hands disappearing inside the sleeves. You held them up to your nose and breathed in his scent before sinking into your sheets and letting sleep overtake you. 

***

You woke in a panic, screaming loud enough to wake the dead and clutching your sheets to your chest. You panted as you looked around frantically, feeling relief surge through you at the familiar walls of the Redeemer. 

You jumped again as your door flew open and Luke rushed in, wearing loose sweatpants and a tank top that he was still hastily pulling down over his torso. He took in your panicked stare, his blue eyes racking over your body for injuries. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, feeling the tears building behind your eyes. “I had a nightmare. I…I’m so sorry—”

His eyes turned soft. “It’s all right. I get them, too.” He took a few steps closer, then hesitated. “Can I sit with you for a minute? Or do you want some space?”

“Stay,” you said before you even realized you’d spoken. “I mean…if you want.”

“Of course I will.” He made his way over to you and gently sat on the edge of your bed. He stared at you unsure for a moment before taking your hand in his, gently rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. His eyes were so full of genuine concern, it made your heart flutter. The dream, however, still had its claws sunk deep into you and you couldn’t stop your face from crumbling as the tears started to flow. 

His face fell and he looked like he was about to cry himself as he murmured your name. 

You futilely wiped a few tears from your cheek as more poured steadily down your face. “I’m sorry—”

“Hey, please don’t apologize. I want to be here for you.” He squeezed your hand in his before continuing softly. “Can I hold you?”

You looked up in surprise, your sleep-addled brain taking a moment to process. You could feel his hurt through the Force as more tears fell and he looked at you so tenderly and carefully, his fingers still gently caressing yours, it made your heart thump twice as hard in your chest. 

“It’s all right if you don’t want me to—”

“No, I—I do,” you answered, your voice cracking. “I…Please.”

Luke let go of your hand and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against his chest. You buried your face in the warm skin of his neck and clung to him. The movement made his shirt slip down your shoulder and your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his warm fingers gently stroking your skin there. He pressed his cheek to yours and you closed your eyes, breathing in his closeness and warmth like an antidote. You could feel your pulse settle as his fingers traced gentle shapes against your bare shoulder, his gloved hand gently massaging your back. 

He moved to press his cheek against your forehead and gently pulled the collar of the shirt up to cover your shoulder again. His flesh hand moved to gently stroke your hair away from your face and he pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead. You felt his sudden embarrassment through the Force and he cleared his throat quietly. “Sorry, that was just…sort of instinctual.”

“It’s okay,” you breathed into his skin. “It feels nice.”

He hesitated a moment, his fingers still gently playing with the strands of your hair before kissing your forehead again. You pulled back to look him in the eye and felt your heart swell at how adorable his bedhead was. His hair looked so silky and it took all your strength to resist running your fingers through it—although with how much he was still playing with your hair, you’re not sure he would’ve minded.

“Thank you,” you breathed, realizing as your lips moved how close they were to his. 

He nodded, his eyes drinking in your form. His face suddenly bloomed an adorable shade of red as his shirt collar slipped down your shoulder again. His eyes tracked the movement before snapping up to your face as another tear escaped you, gently wiping it away with his thumb. He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your jawline. 

You stared openly, glancing at his skin that peeked out from underneath the white tank top. It honestly didn’t cover much and really put his toned shoulders and arms on display. Your sleep-drunk brain couldn’t help but think his skin was such a nice golden color. 

His eyes went wide and you frowned for a moment before yours did, too. “Oh, Maker, was that out loud?”

He chuckled, looking down bashfully. “Um, yes, but…thank you.”

“Sorry, I’m…really tired.”

He met your eyes again, his gaze soft and holding something you couldn’t identify. He licked his lips, his thumb lingering over your collarbone momentarily as he inhaled deeply. His hand traced a gentle line up to the column of your neck and it took everything in you not to brush your lips against his. His voice was so soft, you almost didn’t hear it. “That looks so good on you….” He blinked and cleared his throat, quickly pulling the collar back up over your skin and scooting so there was more distance between you, although his arm was still securely wrapped around your waist. “Sorry, apparently I am, too.”

You held his gaze briefly before you both looked away, laughing nervously. “Um…t-thank you for checking on me and for the hug.”

He nodded, his lips curving slightly and highlighting his cheekbones. “Anytime.” He stared for a moment before letting out a shaky breath and dropping his arm from your side. You suddenly felt empty at the loss. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better.”

“Do you think you could go back to sleep now?”

You nodded. “If I can ever return the favor though…please let me know.”

He squeezed your hand. “I will. Thank you.” He hesitated, holding your gaze before standing and walking towards the door, pausing near the frame. “You do…look good…in that shirt. Keep it for as long as you need.”

You could feel the butterflies fill your stomach. “I will…Goodnight, Luke.”

“Night, Y/N.” He gazed at you for a moment before tearing himself away, the door closing behind him with a hiss. 

You settled back down into the mattress, holding onto the feeling of his arms, hands, and skin as you fell into the land of dreams once more. 

[i-cant-sing]

There's an idea I'm thinking about:

The first is about how the LOV would attack a secret government facility and during the rampage, Dabi finds out about the locked up people that have rare quirks or something. And of course, he's letting them all out because the league could use powerful quirks, and then he stumbles upon you.

A child.

You're hooked upto various machines and looking like life itself is being drained our of you. Your face is expressionless, yet Dabi could feel you calling out to him for help.

Whatever the reason may be, Dabi frees you. He puts you on the ground and looks you dead in the eyes. "You're free now, kid. Run." But you just stare at him before your knees buckle.

Dabi curses under his breath before hauling you up in his arms and starts walking out of tge facility, pushing your face into his chest whenever he killed the guards and white coats.

He has the league's physician check you, who tells him that you're quite malnourished and he's found some injuries on your body, but perhaps it's the scars in your mind that are way deeper.

Dabi inquires what he meant, and the doctor just replies that the facility was knows for torturing the captives and treating them like labrats. For all he knows, you've been subjected to that torture since you were born.

Dabi nods and decides he'll just give you away to a foster home or something, but when he actually took you to a foster place, you gave him that stare again- the one that was screaming at him to not leave you.

"Stop that. I can't take care of you-" but you continued piercing him with your stare.

"Fuck." He whispers. "Shit- Fine. Come. Lets go home." And that's how Dabi became a dad.

The best dad, and he's like extra protective and extra crazy because of your horrible childhood. I mean, he's taking you to psychiatrists and all, but deep down, he knows you'll never be completely normal. And he's fine with that, because Dabi isn't normal either. You're just 2 imperfections of the universe, but perfectly imperfect for each other.

I just- I just KNOW that Dabi has the hugest soft spot for you, and I know for a fact that hes amazing with his non verbal child.

Hes superrrr patient too. He takes baby steps with you, pushes you but not beyond your limits.

And he's always down for cuddling you. I mean he isn't fond of physical touch, but when you come to him and pull gently at his sleeve, Dabi will drop whatever he's doing to hug you. He could be dead asleep on the couch, but the moment he hears your feet patter, he's up. What do you need? Hugs? Chocolates? Hugs and chocolates? Done, done and done.

Oooh imagine if someone actually tries to mess with reader. Could be a bully, could be a thief who broke in to the house when Dabi wasn't home.

Bro, imagine the pure rage Dabi will be in as he walks in and sees a stranger threatening you, blood dripping down your nose as you look wide eyed at the thief, scared to shit.

Dabi is knocking the thief out of the way before coming upto you, his poor child that's trembling like a leaf.

"Shhh, I got you. I got you. Alright, go to your room and close the door. I'll be there soon."

And then Dabi proceeds to burn the thief to ashes.

I've also been thinking about how a yandere would react to a reader with epilepsy? Idk which yandere to choose though.

[gregorovitch-adler]

Hi! I love your fics & ficlets. Idk if you take prompts. But I have one. Sherlock not gravely injured but getting two butt shots for said disease/injury (at his bottom) by Dr. John Watson. I think this may turn out to be a quite hilarious fic for us readers. I'd like to know what you think of this.

Hello! I'm so glad you like my writing. I usually don't take prompts, but this one sounded fun. So, here you are.

--

The Unconventional Solution

John was reading a book at night, sitting on his chair in the living room. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, covered in a thick blanket, and staring at the ceiling.

It was the fourth day of Sherlock suffering from a viral fever.

Sherlock had been susceptible to seasonal changes quite often, in the past.

John had made him go through a three-day medicinal course, but strangely, Sherlock's body was still weak, and the thermometer reading refused to drop from forty degrees.

Good that his runny nose and coughing had subsided. The frequency of his fever had also reduced, but not its intensity. It was once a day for an hour or two, but significantly high.

"John," he called out weakly. "I'm still burning."

John kept his book on the side table and got up to walk to Sherlock. He touched Sherlock's forehead with the back of his hand, and withdrew it immediately. It was indeed burning.

"That's odd. It should've become milder by now. Let me measure it," he said and went to the bathroom to get his medical kit from the shelf. When he came back, Sherlock was already trying to sit up.

"Wait," John said and walked across the room to help him up by his shoulders. John squeezed his shoulders, and placed his medical kit on the coffee table. He opened it to grab the thermometer, and gave it to Sherlock after turning it on.

Sherlock placed it inside his shirt, in his armpit and they waited for a minute.

"I'll take you to hospital tomorrow, if you don't get better by the morning."

"Not a chance."

"I'll drag you if I have to," said John and folded his arms.

"I'd like to see you try." Sherlock smirked.

Oh, how John was dying to kiss that smirk off that damned mouth!

They'd had to place two pillows between them on their bed since the past few nights, and John had been growing impatient now.

The thermometer beeped. Sherlock took it out. "Forty degrees, still. Are you sure it's working?" he asked, looking up at John through his lashes.

"Oh, it's working just fine!" John kept his thermometer back in his kit, placed his hands on his hips, and wondered. What was he supposed to do now? Surely, he couldn't let Sherlock sleep in that condition. It was half past eleven, so the pharmaceutical shops nearby must be closed by now.

Suddenly, one of the medicines caught John's eye. An ibuprofen vial - intramuscular. John knitted his brows, trying to remember why he had that with him. Ah, yes. A post-op patient had needed it when John was doing his rounds.

John had ordered some extra after having administered it to that patient - which he had paid for, afterwards. To be prepared for something like this.

John cleared his throat. "Lie down on your stomach."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna give this to you," said John, pointing at the vial as he began to sterilise his hands. He took out the vial to prepare the syringe.

"What the hell is that?"

"Ibuprofen."

"What about giving me a tablet of that, like a normal person?!" Sherlock was tapping his thighs with his fingers restlessly.

"We're out."

"We can obviously wait till the morning!"

"I could barely touch your forehead, Sherlock! We really can't. And you need to sleep."

"Boring," he said, trying to sound non-chalant, but grabbing his blanket sort of defensively at the same time.

"Are you scared?" John asked, unable to keep his disbelief out of his tone, as he flicked the syringe to check for any air-bubbles.

Even after being together with him for four months now, and being his flatmate for ages, there was still something new to learn about all the time when it came to Sherlock.

"Not at all," he said sternly but began to wrap himself with that blanket.

John bit his bottom lip to control his laugh, trying to maintain his best bedside manner. "Well, that blanket or any amount of layers isn't going to save you." John held up his syringe, which was now ready. "Get on your stomach."

"But -"

"Now," he ordered.

They locked eyes with each other. John was going to hold Sherlock's intense gaze forever, if he had to. John could see his pupils dilate, and his cheeks a bit flushed up - not necessarily because of the fever - as Sherlock looked away and cleared his throat.

Sherlock huffed and put his blanket away and lay down on his stomach.

Knew it would work, John thought as he walked closer to the sofa. "I'm going to take these off," he said, meaning the pyjama bottoms.

Sherlock nodded, but his body still looked a bit tense. John pulled down Sherlock's pyjamas and boxer briefs till his upper thighs.

He took out some methanol swab from his kit to rub at the upper, lateral quadrant of his left butt.

Sherlock hissed.

"Cold?"

Sherlock nodded and made an uncomfortable sound at the base of his throat. If John weren't in a professional mode, he would've paid attention to whatever unwanted thoughts that were intruding his mind at the moment. Sherlock always made him feel that way - couldn't be helped.

Especially with that arse on display. Stop it! John scolded himself as he palpated the area where he'd applied methanol to feel for Sherlock's gluteus maximus.

"Don't worry. Just keep breathing and you won't feel a thing."

"John, you know it doesn't work. Especially with a syringe that big-"

"Not really."

"It is!"

"Picture me in my old fatigues," said John and placed the syringe needle at a ninety-degree angle to the skin surface.

"Oh." Sherlock's body visibly relaxed at that.

With that, John began to administer the ibuprofen steadily. Sherlock gasped a bit in pain, but John soothed that area with his fingers. When he was done, he carefully took out the needle at the same angle and pressed a cotton ball against the tender surface to help Sherlock relax.

John pulled up Sherlock's pants and pyjamas and patted his butt as he got up to keep everything back in his medical kit. He noticed that Sherlock's eyes were still closed. "We're done," he said and cleared his throat. "Let's go to bed."

Sherlock opened his eyes and let out a relieved sigh. John gave him a hand to help him up, and they both walked slowly to the bedroom.

In the room, Sherlock began to grab extra pillows from the wardrobe.

"What are those for?" asked John.

"We've been placing them between us since I fell ill," Sherlock replied, with his brows furrowed in confusion.

John took them from his hands and placed them back in the wardrobe. He grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders to push him onto the bed. "Not today," he said and walked to the other side of the bed to get inside the duvet with Sherlock.

"But what if you catch it?"

John just wrapped his arms around Sherlock without replying and kissed him on his cheek. "Good night. Try to get some sleep," he said and yawned.

It didn't take either of them long to doze off.

*

John's eyes fluttered open in the morning, only to find Sherlock pinning him with his intense gaze, with his head propped up on his elbow.

"How long have you been awake?" asked John in a scratchy voice, with his eyes half open.

"Five minutes."

"How are you feeling?" John was wide awake now, remembering last night. "Were you able to sleep?" John reached out to touch Sherlock's forehead.

He did not have fever anymore, and he certainly looked better than he did last night.

"Yes. Quite well, in fact," he said and leaned in to kiss John's forehead. "Already feeling better."

"You sure about that?" John asked, looking at Sherlock properly, hoping he wasn't just saying that to avoid going to the hospital.

Sherlock hummed and nodded. Without warning, Sherlock climbed on top of John and planted a long, searing kiss on his mouth. John made a surprised sound but kissed him back, not caring about their morning breaths too much.

"Don't think this means you aren't still under observation," John murmured, as he moved his mouth to place kisses along Sherlock's jawline.

"I don't mind that at all," Sherlock said with a sigh as he moved his hands around John's chest, dropping them to his arse.

"Might give you another dose of ibuprofen if necessary."

"Maybe refrain from that," he said and they both began to laugh with their foreheads touching.

John was glad to see Sherlock back in his form. He couldn't possibly be more in love with this man, even if he tried.

--

AN - Just a quick medical realism here: Butt is usually not the first choice to administer IM medication in a lot of cases, but I just wanted to go with the flow of this prompt to fulfill it. I know ibuprofen is most commonly given orally or through IV, but... eh. I hope you liked this one, Anon!

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @a-victorian-girl @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes, etc.

[roseofhybrids]

Drone Tessa AU idea:

When Cyn turned Tessa into a robot she decided at first to let her keep her human skin in order to disguise her alterations from her family.

Unfortunately she forgot to keep in consideration the lack of senses and the fact that human eyes aren’t pitch black visors and so she had to take it off of her once Tessa find out what she did and began to rip it off in a moment of madness.

Hey, look! The Elliot's daughter managed to make it out alive! Seems like she's doing ok:

(TesCYN continues to not beat the furby allegations)

for the eyes and senses

we know from CYN's puppy dog eyes in episode 5 that the drones can display full color images on their visors. So in theory, she could make fake human eyes on the display. Ala lego mario here:

Realistically speaking, I don't think anyone would be tricked into thinking they're real. But if the adults are paying so little attention that they can't notice the fact that she's a drone with skin wrapped around it, then maybe it could work.

The senses though are tricky.

Drones seem to have at least some sense of touch. Though, since the skin's nerves have presumably been separated from her brain, I'd imagine it feeling like she's wearing gloves, a mask, et cetera. (notably, something she'd have less reason to question if she were in the astronaut suit)

We've seen the drone's HUDs a view times, which are always tinted their lights color, and have some visual snow. But we know they can still discern color through V's reference to Uzi as purple and Doll as red. I think that would be one of the first things a human would notice. Unless CYN removes the UI elements, and we take the creative liberty to assume that since the drones can discern color that it would trick Tessa's brain into thinking nothing's wrong? It really depends on how long you want her to not know she's a robot. (another thing that the space suit could help with. If one puts some flavor text in about the helmet having some sort of UI)

Sound, I don't think we've seen anything to suggest the drone's hearing is too different from a human's. Can hear each other speak alright, react to sound cues, enjoy listening to nightcore and panic at the disco.

Taste, I mean. They do have tongues and N describes oil as sweet, so?

Scent here is a bit interesting. Because I can't recall any scenes where the drones have referenced the smell of anything. Not uncommon in any story, especially visual ones like video. It's just something we can forget about easily. For organic characters, we can assume they can, but with robots it's a little up in the air. They don't have visible noses, though there are animals that smell through their mouths rather than nostrils (snakes, lizards, some mammals have extra scent abilities alongside their noses, see "flehmen response"). Would the company have a reason to give them a sense of smell? Would the solver have a reason to? At the same time, it's not unheard of for humans to lose their sense of smell through injury or illness. So it would be possible to not have it without your first thought being "oh shit I've been turned into a robot" (and would you look at that another thing the space suit could cover up. If you're in an airtight suit, why question the fact that you can't smell all the corpses around you? Maybe question why you can't smell your own sweat in there, but that's more a blessing than a curse)

In terms of tricking people into thinking Tessa is human, including Tessa herself. That suit can account for a lot of things.

[eastwindmlk]

Written for @jilymicrofics Prompt: Flattery, Feb 14 Word count: 447 We have a little third year action for a change!

“Oh, Miss Evans, flattery will get you everywhere. Fifteen points to Gryffindor!” Professor Slughorn exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. “For a magnificent potion and phenomenal taste.”

There was a murmur that went around the class, Mary leaning over to touch her shoulder. “Good job, girl. Get them points!” she whispered encouragingly, her eyes crinkling into a smile.

Lily was rather proud of how her Shrinking Solution had come out. It was the perfect hue of acid green. She had even managed to clean her station and read half a chapter of her novel before time.

Of course, it was in part because Sev was such a wiz when it came to chopping. They’d practically breezed through the preparation time. Giving her best friend a little nudge, they both turned around to see how the rest of the class was doing.

She did not miss the fact that James Potter was sitting there, focused on them rather than the other examinations. Giving him a good stink eye, Lily turned her attention back to Caradock Dearborn. He was being berated for attempting to experiment.

Other than him, everyone got some praise. Even the troublemakers in the back, much to her surprise. They’d faffed around for most of the practical. They were loudly laughing at some private joke while she was stirring, nearly making her go clockwise instead of counterclockwise.

After they were dismissed, Lily caught up to James and Sirius, falling into step with them. “I was surprised at how well you did today,” she said conversationally, earning side-eyed looks from both of them and nearly synchronized shrugs.

“No need to flatter us, Evans,” James told her, his tone sour, and she could swear he was rolling his eyes at her. “Good on you for getting us some extra points. After that little scuffle last week, we can really use your special bond with Sluggy.”

Lily scoffed at that because, of course, he was going to be a condescending prick about it. What did she expect? “Well, maybe if you spent more time putting that big brain, you supposedly have to good use instead of doing whatever you do now, Maybe we wouldn’t lose as many house points.” Her tone was haughty, her nose turning up as she gave him her best side-eyed glare before falling out of step. She decided to wait for her own friends rather than have a conversation with people who only irritated her.

The sound of James’s laughter echoed through the dungeon hallway. His head turned just enough for her to catch him winking at her. Only to add insult to injury by adding a seemingly condescending kiss blown in her direction.

[lordbhreanna]

SHIP HEADCANONS - Garrus/Shepard

Thanks for the tag @naldoreth 🌺

Gives nose/forehead kisses: Garrus (he likes to do the forehead touch, which in my headcanon is a common way for turians to display affection, since they don't really do the kiss thing).

Gets jealous the most: Well, we have seen Shepard getting a liiiittle jelaous of the turian lady (though that could be part of the roleplay). I don't think any of them is particularly jelaous, beyond some silly stuff like that.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive: Garrus.

Takes care of on sick days: They would both take care of each other. I have this headcanon that Shepard would check on him every free moment she got in ME2 when Garrus' injury was still recent.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: We know turians are not very fond of water, but he's curious enough (he wants to retire somewhere tropical, after all) so when they're on the beach and he hesitates, Shepard would push him.

Gives unprompted massages: Garrus. Shepard needs them, and according to Vetra in MEA, massassing a turian requires powered tools 😆 Not much room for unprompted ones.

Drives/rides shotgun: Much to everyone's (and Garrus especially) chagrin, Shepard usually drives. In her defense, she's better with skycars than military vehicles.

Brings the other lunch at work: Shepard would bring him food to the main battery when he was overworking himself, and he would take her dinner to her quarters 💕

Has the better parental relationship: I think Castis isn't as bad as it looks, and the good thing is that, despite their differences, he and Garrus are able to see common ground. However, if we count Anderson, Shepard wins. You can't beat Anderson, sorry Castis!

Tries to start role-playing in bed: Shepard, all the way. The whole Citadel date seemed like her idea and I love that, actually.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: It's tempting to say Shepard, but she's already a terrible dancer, so I like imagining that after a certain amount of alcohol, Garrus would fit the bill. I mean, he's already a bit silly when dancing in full armor.

Still cries watching Titanic: It would be funny if Shepard showed Garrus the movie, and he was the one ending up more teary eyed. He likes Fleet and Flotilla if I remember correctly, so it'd suit him. He's such a soft boy 💕

Firmly believes in couples costumes: Similarly to the roleplay, I think Shepard would be the one to come up with this.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: They would both do (weapon mods are expensive!)

Makes the other eat breakfast: Garrus to Shepard. And sleep as well.

Remembers anniversaries: They both do, but I think Shepard would have them more in mind. Garrus has a family of his own, but Shepard doesn't - and she has found one in him and the Normandy crew, so she's extra careful with those details.

Brings up having kids: Garrus, canonically.

(I love that so many of these can be answered thanks to the actual canon material. Shakarian will always be the ships of dreams ✨)

Tagging @ithilien-wolf @visualheresy @fiannans and whoever wants to do it!

[michelleleewise]

Life Lessons

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of past abuse and trauma, odins parenting, mentions of assault, mentions of injury, bruises. Soft smut at the end, subish loki, mentions of contraception, if I missed anything I'm very sorry!!

Summary: Loki shows up to your apartment in bad shape, you do your best to help him....

Part four--Part five-

====================================

"Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital." You said, lifting his arm, grabbing his side hearing him hiss "no, he'll know where I am, c....can I just stay here?" He asked as you looked at him. "Of course you can, come on." You said pulling him up. "Does anyone know your here?" You asked closing the door. "No, I just left." He said leaning on you.

You sat him on the bed, gently touching his chin, seeing his eye swollen, a large gash along his eyebrow, nose and cheek, and his lip split open again, and you didn't even want to think about everywhere else. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" You asked "no, I'll be fine. It isn't the first time, but it will be the last." He said looking down.

You ran to the bathroom grabbing your first aid kit, coming back as your phone went off, seeing Thor was trying to call. You decided to ignore it, shoving it back in your pocket. You looked up seeing Loki leaning on the headboard, his eyes closed. "No, no sleeping." You said pulling him up. "But I'm tired." He whined eyed still closed. "Well I don't know if you have a head injury, so stay awake for me ok?" You asked "only for you." He mumbled as you opened the kit.

"OK, this may sting." You said, dabbing an alchol wipe on his cut hearing him hiss. "Sorry.." you said trying to be as quick as possible. Cleaning his face you bandaged his cuts, going to get your ice pack out if the freezer "here, hold this on your eye." You said as you gently held it to his face replacing your hand with his. "Did you bring any extra clothes?" You asked as he shook his head "didn't have time." He said sighing. "Is Thor able to grab any?" You asked grabbing a chair to sit in front of him. "I don't know if I want him knowing where I am yet." He said as you nodded.

"OK, Well your staying here, there's only a week of school left, I'll sleep on the couch, you take the bed and I'll find a way to get you some clothes." You said as he looked at you. "I can't let you sleep on the couch." He said "and I can't let you go back to....that." you said waving your hand. You went to your closet, you had some stuff that might fit him, being a bit of a tom boy you had some larger shorts and shirts.

"Here, see if these fit." You said handing him a pair of basketball shorts and a black shirt. Setting the ice pack down he peeled his shirt off as you walked to the kitchen to make him something to eat. Making him a sandwich you came back as he pulled the shirt over his head, catching a glimpse of the bruises on his ribs. "Here, I made you this." You said handing it to him "Thank you." He whispered as he put the ice pack back on his eye. "Are the clothes ok for tonight?" You asked grabbing an extra blanket "Yes, thank you" he said eating.

Setting the blanket on the couch you grabbed some pain meds and water, setting them on the nightstand next to him sitting down in front of him. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" You asked watching him. "Im ok, I'm just tired." He said looking at you. "Well, its been about an hour, I think your ok to lie down, but let me see something." You said pulling your phone out, turning the flashlight on you shined it in his eye as he squinted, seeing his pupil shrink "ok, how many fingers am I holding up?" You asked as he answered correctly then having him tell you his name, age and the colleges name.

"Alright I'll let you sleep, but I'm gonna watch you." You said pulling the blankets back for him, gently nudging him down. "Y/n, I don't want to take your bed." He said trying to get up "You aren't, I'm giving it to you, now sleep." You said pulling the blankets up kissing his forehead as he sighed. He grabbed you by your nape, pulling your towards him as he slotted his lips over yours, you place your hands on either side of his head as his tongue slid in your mouth, tangling with yours while you leaned over him.

You pulled back catching your breath as he leaned up kissing your neck, his hand sliding down your back. "L....loki, we shouldn't." You breathed as he bit your ear lobe "mmm but I want you y/n." He mumbled as he nipped your neck. "I want you too, but your hurt." You said as he grabbed your belt loop pulling you closer. "loki, you need to rest." You said closing your eyes as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"Please y/n, I need you." He whined as he kissed down your neck. "I....I don't want to hurt you." You breathed, as your resolve quickly faded. "You won't, I promise." He said laying his head back looking at you. "Ok, hold on." You said gently kissing his lips. Getting up you turned the lights off, walking back towards the bed. Standing in front of him you slowly pulled your top off, before sliding your jeans and panties down as he watched you. "Your so beautiful." He said not taking his eyes off you as you unclasped your bra, sliding the straps down letting it hit the floor.

You reached into your nightstand, grabbing a condom as you pulled the blankets down, sliding his shorts down. "Do you want me to help you?" You whispered as he nodded. Smiling you rolled it down his erection as he moaned "y/n please hurry." He moaned as you threw your leg over him, straddling his hips. "Are you sure?" You asked again looking at him "I've never been so sure, I want you so bad, please." He sighed cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes.

You reached between you, grabbing his cock lining him up as you looked at him again, seeing him nod you slowly pressed yourself down onto him as his hands gripped your hips. "Ahh God your tight." He moaned as you inched further down, stilling as he bottomed out. "You feel so good" You panted, slowly moving up and down. "Come here." He whispered as you leaned down, kissing him passionately as your hips sped up, making him moan. "Harder y/n." He moaned, thrusting his hips up as you leaned back bracing on his chest, bouncing up and down. "Y...yes like that....ahh.....you feel like heaven y/n." He moaned as you slammed down on him.

"Touch yourself, let me see you." He panted as your hands moved from his chest, massaging your own breasts, one sliding down rubbing your clit as he watched you come undone. "Mmm...your so......so perfect" He said moaning loudly as he thrust hard into you making you cry out. ""I want you to come y/n, I need to feel you grip me, please." He panted as you bounced harder. "I...I'm gonna....aahhhh......" you moaned loudly as his hips snapped up. "Yes y/n, come for me" he said digging his fingers into your hips as you threw your head back, your orgasm slamming into you calling out his name. Feeling him twitch inside you as he held you down onto him, crying out your name.

You leaned forward, laying your forehead on his as you both came down from your highs. "W..will you lay with me? He asked as you leaned up "Yes, one second though." You said, slowly pulling off him as he groaned you went to the bathroom grabbing a damp cloth, throwing the condom away you cleaned him up as he hummed. "Do you need anything?" You asked "only you love." He said looking up at you. You gently climbed over him watching his ribs as you laid on your back, him immediately laying his head on your chest, wrapping his arm around you.

"Are you comfortable?" You asked stoking his hair. "Yes, thank you y/n, for....everything." He whispered as he squeezed you tighter. "We'll figure everything out, just rest ok." You said kissing the top of his head. "Goodnight love." He sighed as you played with his hair "Goodnight Loki." You said as you felt his breathing even out. You weren't sure what you were going to do, but there was no way you were letting him go back there, to him. You had to protect him, no matter what.....

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10 @high-functioning-lokipath @buttercupbestie @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lonadane @mcufan72 @daggers-and-mischief @lily-sinclair-2006 @lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @limiworld @mochie85 @sinsandguilt @chickencouncilrep @lulubelle814 @midnights-ramblings @commanding-officer @xorpsbane @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokixryss @froggiecky @intoxicatinginsanity @huntress-artemiss @sekaishell @slpnbty2001 @your-taste-on-my-lips @usagishira @lokis-coffee221 @tjellisworld @kingtwhiddleston @thecraziestcrayon @lokislittleprincess

[shywhumpauthor]

Two Weeks of Whump—Day Four

Belt // Gas Mask // Cage

Masterlist

Cw: torture, abuse, allowed torture in the name of “interrogation”, corrupt authority, slight gore mentions, implied infection/illness, stoic caretaker, I feel like there’s things I’m missing

Medic’s job was to heal.

That was their oath, to do everything in their power help those in need. In need. They didn’t get to pick and choose who deserved their time, who deserved their treatment. They didn’t prioritize rank or status, only by severity of the injury. A stab always took priority over a twisted ankle, regardless of if it was a Villain whom was weeping blood and a Hero limping around. They helped.

They enjoyed their job, for the most part. The atmosphere was exciting, yet oddly peaceful. They had full control in the infirmary, anything and everything at their disposal. They were valued.

When they had been hired for the Agency, they had worked as an apprentice under the pair of healers, until their retirement not too long ago. There were a few others, technicians who knew enough to help should Medic require extra hands, enough so that Medic could take the weekends off and enjoy themself throughout the week. but really it was them. They were in charge, responsible. A duty they both loved and resented.

They were good at their job, too. Better than those who had trained them, even Superhero had admitted. They were calm, collected even in the midst of chaos. They didn’t bat an eye when some delirious hero would stumble in, beaten to holy hell with a hand keeping their intestines from spilling to the ground. They supposed they had to give some credit to their powers, but the healing? That was all them. The sutures and scalpels, deft work keeping those who protected the city alive. Although, pain management was certainly a useful ability, especially with field work, when there wasn’t time to administer any anesthetic. With just a touch, they could ease away anything from agony to aches. Not enough of an ability to bring them the publicity like Superhero’s teleportation or Hero’s skills with fire, but it was more than enough for them to do their job.

They had a strong stomach, too, which was definitely helpful in their day to day tasks. There wasn’t much that could faze them anymore, unlike that one medical intern who they now had to be mindful only to assign to light cases- tending to the Agency members that fell victim to the flu that went around the compound at least once every three months, bandaging scrapes, and placing IVs where needed.

In short, they were good at their job. Very good at it. Their mind was quick, their hands were trained and swift, they didn’t hesitate.

Up until about twenty seconds ago.

“So… can you fix them?” The Hero asked, shuffling their feet as their tone lowered, sounding almost bashful.

Medic didn’t upset easily. Emotions led to recklessness, which led to mistakes, which led to people hurting. No, they were a calm, collected person, driven by logic and reason, separating all personal emotion from their job so they could focus completely on helping those who were hurt.

Hero had never been a prodigy, by any means. They were the exact opposite of everything Medic strives to be. With their fire powers and all, Medic became more convinced by the day that there was nothing but hot air behind their thick skull. Maybe that would be giving them too much credit.

Medic closed their eyes, drawing a long breath through their nose before they turned towards Hero. They looked back with a certain nonchalance in their gaze that, for the first time in their career, made Medic want to break their oath and slap the hero so hard that maybe, maybe by some miracle, it would knock a sliver of sense into that big, empty head of theirs.

Instead, Medic stepped through the door’s threshold into the small, dark room beyond. Though they could already see quite clearly the carnage from the hall lights bleeding into the cell, they flipped on the room’s main lights.

A stark brightness cut through the shadows like a blade, but Medic remained unfazed even as the crumpled figure, vaguely resembling a person, whimpered and cringed away.

It wasn’t a Medic’s job to interfere with prisoners beyond medical necessity, which meant they had no say in whatever substandard ethics that took place outside of their infirmary. That was Superhero’s job, and no one questioned Superhero’s job. Which meant, they shouldn’t be nosy. They shouldn’t be looking around the cell, taking in every awful detail.

The prisoner lay amidst a puddle on the floor, a pool of water around their body that didn’t take much searching to find the source of—a hose connected to the far wall’s tap, laying in a coiled spool, water still dripping from the nozzle. Just behind them, looking like they had barely managed to crawl out, or were dragged out of, a wire crate no bigger than one that would be used for a medium sized dog. Instead of the secure plastic-wrapped strips of metal that formed the mesh of the cage, they seemed to be actual wire, sharp metal twisted with barbs. If the state of the prisoner’s skin was anything to go off of, it was. Wearing only a pair of ragged shorts, every bit of brutality they suffered wound across their skin like a tapestry, woven with deep red threading scars that covered the rest of the space that the burns did not.

“I tried to clean ‘em up,” Hero shrugged, entering the room a step behind Medic. “I think they’re sick or somethin’. Would’a called you earlier, but I thought they were faking to get a break.”

Medic could see that. Their flushed, sweat drenched skin was visible even from across the room, their tremors. Another deep breath.

“They need to go to the infirmary,” Medic spoke flatly, their fingers tightening around the handle of the med kit which they held.

“No can do, bud,” Hero sighed with a shake of their head, crossing their arms as they leaned back against the wall. “Interrogation protocol, they aren’t allowed anywhere but this cell.”

“That’s not-”

“Superhero’s orders,” Hero interrupted before Medic could even think how they were going to end their sentence. “They’re a villain, a murderer. Can’t take any chances.” They shrugged, meeting Medic’s glare with a bored stare. “Look, just fix them, alright? That’s your job.”

Their job.

Medic really hated their job sometimes.

—————————————————

@promptsforyourwhumpfic

Oh hey I didn’t post this one at ten pm! Cool!

Hhrghhhh I have to write a paper for bio but really I only want to hurt Noah. Bleh