Formally @welcome-to-writers-haven For fic recs and reblogs, stop by @wild-lavender-rose-recs For writing thoughts and headcannons, stop by @wild-lavender-rose-musings 20 something writer/artist
Update: Due to my name change from @welcome-to-writers-haven to @wild-lavender-rose some of the links in the master lists below don't work. I am slowly working to fix this and appreciate everyone's patience!
Below are links to masterlists of every fandom I’ve written/am writing/will write for. I no longer keep taglists but mainly post content on this blog, so follow and turn on notifications to see more :) Requests are open! To support the writer behind the writing, drop by my buy me a coffee page. Thanks for stopping by!
- I do not own any of these characters or their stories. -
Series Note: This is a reader insert series that goes episode by episode and inserts the reader into cannon episodes as part of a slow burn poly relationship between you, Sam, and Dean (no Wincest).
Fic Note: I feel like this is when it starts "getting good" in terms of the dynamic between the boys and reader is starting to develop.
"Sam, this is not like you," Dean follows Sam through the woods, while you trail behind.
You're trying to track down a wendigo in hopes that it will lead to finding John Winchester. From the moment the hunt started Sam has been aggressive and on edge. Dean, always the leader, keeps trying to address it, while you remain uncharacteristically quiet.
The events leading up to Sam being here has kept you quiet and cautious. Not to mention that your heart breaks every time Sam refuses even the slightest hint of sympathy or kindness from you. Dean keeps telling you to give him time, but as the hunt has progressed and Sam's behavior only grows more aggressive you find it harder and harder to keep your emotions and thoughts locked down.
"Look, I just want to find Dad, okay?" Sam says, his voice rising.
"There's more to it and you know it." Dean argues. "Look, I know you're angry about Jess,"
"Don't talk about her." Sam practically snarls.
"Sam," you begin, stepping into the space between them, preparing to be the mediator as you had been for years.
"And don't you start with me." Sam says, fixing you with a look that should have made you shrivel. "Let's just find Dad, kill whatever son of a bitch is out there hunting people, and move on."
Something inside you breaks. "Listen, Sam," I say, anger pushing me to push right into his personal space, making him step back. "I get it you're hurting. But your attitude is only getting in the way of finding your dad. You need to either talk it out with me and Dean or get yourself together, before your anger makes you do something stupid. Got it?"
Sam scoffs, looking away, his jaw twitching. "Fine." He says, with as much sarcasm as a teenager.
You glare up at him, finally letting my anger at his attitude show through. You turn and start to walk away, shoulder brushing gently against Dean's.
"Should have known that's what would happen since I left her with you." Sam mumbles to Dean.
You stop. Turn back to face them. "What?" You snap.
Sam's eyes raise from Dean to meet yours. "Nothing. You just, got all quiet and bitchy. I'm sure Dean's rough edges are a lot to take all the time."
It was meant to hurt Dean more than you, but while Dean seemed to take it in stride anger flared within you. You whirl around and come walking back. "Maybe I'm acting quiet and bitchy because you're acting like a fucking jerk." you began, getting into Sam's space so much your chest was pushing against his. "Your brother has been holding me back this entire hunt from calling you out on your bullshit,"
"Sweetheart," Dean touched your arm.
You pull away, eyes locked with Sam's.
Sam scoffs. "What do you want me to do, huh? Run back into your arms, pretend, what? That Jess never happened, that my whole life never happened!?"
"You're putting words in my mouth!" You snap, voice raising to match his. "We used to all be friends before we were lovers, remember that? I want to help you,"
"Yeah, right. You wanted me to stay, you hoped this would happen so we could pick up where we left off, the three of us."
"That's enough, Sam." Dean's voice boomed, grabbing your arm mid swing, pulling you back against his chest. "That's enough." He says again, this time directed at you.
You struggle for a moment, then go still, knowing it's useless. It's almost funny, given that Sam is almost twice your size. You guessed that Dean was worried you'd use the gun tucked into your waistband, and you were so upset you knew it was a valid concern.
Sam watched you for a moment, jaw set. "Let's just find this monster and get out of here." He said, walking past you and Dean as if the conversation was over.
Your shoulders slump as he walked off, anger swept away by sadness. Dean felt the change in your body and relaxed his grip, thumbs gently rubbing against your arms.
"I did want him to stay." You say quietly, watching Sam walk off. "But not like this."
"I know, baby." Dean replied, equally quiet. "Me too."
Series Note: This is a reader insert series that goes episode by episode and inserts the reader into cannon episodes as part of a slow burn poly relationship between you, Sam, and Dean (no Wincest).
Sam leaned against the hood of the Impala, staring blankly as his apartment went up in flames, his girlfriend's body trapped on the ceiling inside. You and Dean exchanged a look, the pain you felt for Sam mirrored in his eyes. Working the hunt together made you three feel good again. Close, even. You hated that it was temporary, and wished that Sam would forget his stupid interview and come back to hunting, to his brother, to you. But when it was all over he went right back to his apartment and to Jess, leaving you and Dean once more.
And now his life was literally going up in flames before his eyes.
You moved to lean on the hood next to Sam, looking up into his vacant, pained expression. "I'm sorry about Jess." You say softly, and you mean it. "I'm so sorry."
Sam is silent. You glance at Dean, but it's clear that memories of his mom are making his thoughts just as distant. You look at the ground, feeling awful and helpless. You first met the brothers when you were kids at your father Bobby's house and remember hearing Dean waking up from nightmares crying for his mom. But Sam didn't remember his mom. He just woke up screaming.
You press your shoulder against Sam's arm, offering silent support. He stiffens and moves away, looking at Dean. "Let's go hunt." He said flatly.
Your heart stuttered. You wanted Sam back desperately. But not like this.
Series Note: This is a reader insert series that goes episode by episode and inserts the reader into cannon episodes as part of a slow burn poly relationship between you, Sam, and Dean (no Wincest).
You wince as Dean pins Sam to the ground easily, staying in the shadows as the two brothers reunite in typical unconventional fashion. Sam’s expression is one of fear, then pain, then confusion. “Dean?” He asks.
“You’ve lost your touch, Sammy.” Dean taunts.
You see the look in Sam’s eye. “Dean,” you say softly, warning.
But it was too late. In a flash Sam had Dean pinned under him instead. You roll your eyes and shake your head, watching as Sam finally helps Dean to stand.
Sam looks over at you, your eyes meeting for the first time in years. “Hey.” He says softly.
Your heart twists and breaks and melts all at once. God you’ve missed him. God you hate him. God he’s gotten a hell of a lot more filled out since he went to college. Not yours, not yours, not yours, you tell yourself. He chose to go to school over you and Dean. And you weren't blind to the fact he was obviously sharing this apartment with a girl. It’s over now. It doesn’t matter.
“Hey,” Is all you say in response, putting your hands in your jacket pockets to conceal how you're trembling.
You thought maybe it would hurt, being shot in the chest point blank. That the pain would blossom just like blood would blossom through your shirt. But instead you felt numb shock wash over you, staring up at the ceiling as chaos whirled around you at a distance. The gunshots that followed sounded like dim popping in your ears. Your vision began to blur and you blinked, something in the back of your mind telling you that you need to stay awake. Shouting. Someone was shouting your name.
Then Aaron Hotchner came into focus. "Hey, hey, look at me," he said, taking your face in his hands. "Stay with me, okay? You're gonna be fine, just stay with me."
You blink as your vision continues to blur. "H-Hotch,"
"Shh, you're okay, it's okay,"
You've never heard him sound so gentle and reassuring before. You begin to breathe faster. "What happened? What's going on?"
"It's nothing, you're going to be fine," Hotchner's hands kept you from looking down at your chest. "Just listen to my voice."
"Oh shit, oh shit," something was wrong, he wouldn't sound so gentle unless something was wrong.
And then the shock began to wear off and your body tensed, the pain etched along your face. Your mouth opens, the beginning of a groan crawling up your throat.
"You're okay, you're okay," helplessness flickered in his eyes as he saw the panic and pain rising in your eyes. He kept his voice calm and even as your gasping turned into groaning. And the groaning turned into screams.
Summary: You try to hide your sickness from McCoy. You succeed, until the exhaustion becomes too much...
Warning: Description of severe exhaustion, hospital/med bay setting
Note: For @sarcastic-nebula, a WIP I've had in my drafts for literal years :/
It was bad this time. Paperwork had piled up and you had fallen horribly behind. You ate little and slept less. You felt drunk from exhaustion, barely able to hold it together during your shifts only to return to your quarters and keep working late into the night. You knew it was bad, yet you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. This had happened once more, and the result had been a week in the medbay, hooked up to a bunch of machines as life was slowly pumped back into your weak body. McCoy was upset then, and you had promised that it wouldn't happen again. And yet, here you are. Again.
Just the thought of facing him caused hot shame to wash over you. You would just have to keep going until you had a chance to rest. But as the days turned into weeks, you realized that the chance wasn't coming. And you kept getting worse...
"Hey,"
You looked up from your padd to find Kirk looking at you, blue eyes full of concern. "You good?"
"Yeah," you swayed uncertainly, looking around. How long had you been on the bridge clutching your padd, lost in thought?
"When do you get off? Maybe you could..."
Even in your hazy state this made you smile. "Never in a million years, Captain."
Kirk's smile was more concerned than flirtatious. "You should see Bones when you get off. You're pale."
"I'm fine." You returned your blurred gaze down to the padd.
Kirk said something else under his breath that you didn't catch but guessed it was a jab at your stubborn nature. He left you, going to sit in the captain's chair and tap the panel on the right arm. You returned to your work, only to hear a familiar voice a minute later.
"Jim," Bones glanced over at you as he entered the bridge. He had a med scanner in his hand.
You turned your back to him and white knuckled the padd. Had Kirk called Bones up here? Why else would he be here? No, no it couldn't be because of you. It was just a coincidence. Kirk called Bones whenever he was lonely. He didn't know. He couldn't.
As casually as possible, you started for the doors. You would keep working in your private quarters, you were close to catching up as it was. Just a little longer, always a little longer. You could feel Bones' eyes on you as you entered the elevator, keeping your gaze away from him as you programmed in your destination.
"Hold up," he called, starting after you.
"Too late," you said with a shrug, embarrassment making the back of your neck prickle with sweat as the doors closed before he could join you.
As the lift started, your padd fell to the floor. You took a step back, your back colliding with the wall. You meant to lean against it for support, only your knees buckled and you slid to the floor.
Your vision, though blurry before, threatened to black out entirely. A distant part of you knew that you needed to comm for help. But it all felt so far away. Your body was numb except for the blossoming ache behind your eyes and in your stomach. Sleep, sleep, sleep, your body pleaded. Please let me sleep.
The lift doors opened. You heard your name being called and winced against the sound. "Bones," you breathed, trying and failing to get up.
"Just stay put, darlin'. Stay there." He didn't sound upset, only worried. That fact alone made something inside you relax and you completely succumbed to deep, blissful darkness.
# # # # #
You woke up expecting to feel better, only your body felt like it had turned to tired, slow sludge in the time you had been unconscious. A monitor beeped slowly next to your head and there was something strapped to your wrist you guessed was pumping something life giving into your arm. It had happened again. Overworked to the point of hospitalization in the med bay.
"Well look who decided to join the living." said a familiar, rough voice.
You look over to see Bones approach with his med scanner. Your body tenses, preparing for the lecture and the irritation. But before Bones can even open his mouth you suddenly burst into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you ramble, hot tears running down your cheeks. "Don't be mad, please, I'm sorry,"
"Hey, hey. Shh," Bones set the scanner aside and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to wipe your tears away. "You're all right, sweetheart. It's okay."
"I w-wanted to go to you, but I didn't want you to be mad,"
Bones' typically hard expression softened at your words. He shushed you, using his sleeve to help wipe your face before running his fingers through your hair. "I shouldn't have made you feel that way. I'm sorry."
This only makes you cry harder, the results of the overwhelming past few weeks bubbling to the surface and breaking you down. Bones patiently stays beside you, shushing you, but giving you space to fall apart. As your sobbing finally subsides he reaches over to tap at the monitor screen by your head.
You touch his arm. "Don't. Please."
He stops. "It's just something to make you feel more relaxed, honey."
"I don't wanna be away from you." you say, trying and failing to articulate your need to be close to someone in this vulnerable state.
But Bones understands, his hand moving away from the monitor. "I'll stay here. I'm right here, and I'm not mad." He said, his voice much softer than usual.
You look up at him, still holding to his arm. "I know I should take better care of myself, I promise I'll do better this time,"
"We're gonna talk about that later, okay?" His hand feels your forehead, then slides down to caress your cheek. "We'll make sure this doesn't happen again. But now you're gonna close your eyes and sleep, all right, darlin'? No arguments."
As much as I don't want to, I'm too weak to argue. I close my eyes, the darkness from before washing over me just as quickly as before. I faintly hear the tap of Bones fingers on the monitor, and then the darkness doubles and I'm swept away into sweet, peaceful sleep once more.
Request for Hank Lawson, please. New art teacher (female reader) from Zack's school brings him to visit Hank for summer break and stays in town. The teacher has art block and hopes to find inspiration. She meets teasing, cocky, very handsome, flirty but secretly kind hearted muse: Hank. This muse gives her hard time to draw bc of his teasing nature and being so handsome but gives even more inspiration, joy and excitement she has missed last few weeks. Reader trying her best to banter back, keep calm and not to be too often a blushing mess when Hank agrees to be model for her. They do enjoy each other.
Hey! After thinking about this one, I decided to do a collection of head cannons for this idea since I couldn't choose just one scene to portray this very fluffy Hank x reader concept. Enjoy!
You came to the town in hopes of finding inspiration in the hot springs and the beautiful mountain views as well as hold art classes for children who may never have access to them given their location in the middle of nowhere.
You travel back with Zack, your favorite pupil, and intend to stay with the town's doctor who you've been in contact with for several months now.
The absolute last thing you expected was to discover that Zack's father was a tall, handsome, flirty saloon owner whose blue eyes alone made your breath stutter and heart beat fast.
It started with his eyes, sketching them out in your notebook and doing your best to replicate the color with blue pastels that color your fingers as well.
Soon you're drawing his hair, his smirk, his many expressions, switching out your small notebook for your large, leather-bound sketch book that you keep on your lap as you try to discreetly watch Hank whenever you get the chance.
Hank gives you many, many chances to sketch him, as from the moment you stepped off the train he was determined to make you his girl.
You tried to keep the source of your inspiration a secret, but of course as soon as Hank sees you trying to hide your work from him he doesn't hesitate to snatch it from you one day and hold it out of reach.
You're afraid that he'll laugh or think you're strange, but instead he's surprised and honored that he's become your muse.
Not to mention relieved because in the past week he's fallen completely head over heels for you.
It doesn't take much convincing for Hank to agree to model for you, however it does take a great deal of pleading on your part for him to stay still and let you work.
Hank loves watching the look of concentration on your face as you work, a look that only gets better when he can make you stutter and blush.
Initially it's hard to be calm during your modeling sessions, however, after two weeks in the two of you are bantering back and forth as if you've been courting for months.
Which is exactly what happens once your work is finished.
Hank can't bear to see you go back to the art school, and so while Zack returns you stay with Hank and continue teaching art classes at the school.
You came to the town to find inspiration, and ended up finding a muse who will love you for the rest of his days <3
Hi! Not sure if you are doing requests but could you do Aragorn and fem reader whump comfort? I’m thinking pre lord of the rings, they are hunting gollum and they get ambushed on their journey? Thank you so much!!! Ur so amazing! 🤩
Here you are, lovely. Enjoy!
You were back to back with Aragorn, your unsteady breath steam in the frosted air as you regarded the orcs surrounding you. “I told you this was not a good plan.” You whispered.
“I will apologize in a moment.” Aragorn drew his sword.
“You may apologize by getting us out of here with all our limbs.” You drew your sword just as the first orc lunged, your swords sparking as they connected.
You and Aragorn had been out tracking Gollum through the forest when a pack of orcs had appeared out of nowhere. Aragorn’s keen hearing had only given you a moment to prepare, moving to cover each other’s backs and brace for inevitable combat. You were good with a blade, as was evident by the constant clash and slice of your sword.
“Perhaps we should count.” You suggested, motioning to the dead bodies surrounding your section of the forest floor.
Aragorn stabbed his sword through an orc’s chest, shoving him off with his boot before glancing your way. “Would it trouble you to be serious for just a few moments?”
“Horribly, yes.” You grinned, but did indeed become serious as three orcs came for you at once.
Grabbing the dagger from under your belt, you slashed at one while blocking another’s sword. But the third orc saw your distraction, giving a roar of victory as he shoved his sword into your side.
You gasped and fell down to one knee. Adrenaline kept you from screaming. The orcs raised their swords for the death blow. You took your sword and slashed at their legs, severing them completely. The screams were horrendous. Hot black blood splattered your face.
You forced yourself to stand, falling back heavily against Aragorn’s back. Your vision was blurred but your sword remained steady, prepared for the next attack. But the three orcs screaming before you had deterred the rest, that paired with the pile of dead bodies Aragorn had accumulated as well. Your gasping breath sounded distant in your ear.
The remaining orcs retreated. Flipping your sword, you put the remaining wounded orcs out of their misery with swift stabs to their heart. Then the blade fell from your hands.
“Aragorn,”
Aragorn’s back was still turned. He chuckled as he sheathed his sword. “Worry not, I haven’t forgotten my promise of apology.”
“A-Aragorn,” your body was shaking, gaze traveling down to the blood running from your side.
He turned, coming to touch your shoulder.
“I, I think,” your knees buckled and you fell back into Aragorn’s arms. “I think I’m bleeding.”
“Easy, easy,” Aragorn scooped you up into his arms and carried you away from the stinking orc corpses, laying you at the base of a large tree with a tree root propping up your head.
“It hurts,” you squeezed your eyes shut as the pain began.
“I know, love, easy,” Aragorn ripped open your shirt and hastily pulled a roll of bandages from the pouch at his side.
“No, wait, no!” You tried to push the bandages away as Aragorn pressed them against your side. “Aragorn!”
“I’m sorry,” Aragorn whispered, pressing down until you were screaming.
You thrashed wildly for a moment, before the darkness won. The last thing you saw were Aragorn’s eyes full of tears, and then you knew nothing more.
Just wanted to drop off a few compliments. Imo xReader stories are such a wonderful, comforting thing but they're wildly underrated - especially in the Mash fandom. So thank you for blessing us all with your stories! I love reading them <33
Thank you so much for this, it made me smile so much! I absolutely love Mash, it's one of my favorite comfort shows :) It's a pleasure to write for the fandom, I'm so honored that you enjoy reading my x reader fics!
Whumpee coming to half consciousness in another character's arms as they're carried to safety, wrapped in their carrier's coat
with Haldir please 🥺 (thank you 💚)
This was so much fun to write, thank you anon!
One moment you were fighting by Haldir’s side, slicing through orcs with your sword while guarding his back. The next moment, your sword was lodged deep into an orc’s skull and you were down to a dagger. That did little to slow you until the orcs began to outnumber you, coming from all sides.
“Haldir!” You cried, backing up to find that he had moved further down the line. You turned to look for him, just a moment’s distraction, and an orc’s knife had plunged through your body.
Your eyes fluttered, fighting to stay awake. Consciousness was coming and going like waves against the shore. The shore you visited with Haldir once. The shore where he promised his devotion to you, his strength, his protection, his love…
“I need a healer! Healer, now!”
Your vision focused to find Haldir carrying you, his cloak wrapped around your body to guard against the night’s endless chill. Your body was numb in a very specific way, the shock kind of numb that signaled pain was not far behind.
You tried to shift, to squirm. “Haldir,”
He looked down, his booming voice switching to a gentle whisper. “You’re all right. I have you.”
“The knife,”
“Shh,” Haldir’s grip tightened on you, holding you closer. “You’re injured, but it’s all right. I’m going to take care of you, beloved.”
“Haldir,” your bloody hand found his collar, gripping him, trying to stay awake. But the waves crashed inside you and you were conscious no more.
Waking up to a half lit room, warm blankets tucked up to their chin
Wind and rain rattling the windows as someone tries in vain to sleep
That first sip of warm, salty broth spooned in with shaky hands
The sharp cheeping of an electronic thermometer while a kettle steams in the background
Someone lying curled into a tight, trembling ball under a heavy quilt, cold light from a snowstorm-drenched world outside, a friend running a hand through their hair and speaking gently to them
The first sound they hear after waking up from a feverish sleep is a crackling fire near them
A pale face with raw, wind-reddened cheeks, a dark bruise under one eye and a split lip
A caretaker tenderly wrapping a whumpee's forehead in bandages to cover a shallow but scarily bloody cut
Someone huddled and shivering against an alleyway wall, knees bloody and a cold forming in their chest, throat burning every time they swallow and worsening as they start to cry silently
Someone found sick and half frozen in the snow, blood staining their jacket
A group or partnership huddled around a fire together, one of them shivering more than usual
Flannels, wool blankets, quilts, wrapped up around a whumpee who can't seem to get warm no matter what
Whumpee coming to half consciousness in another character's arms as they're carried to safety, wrapped in their carrier's coat
Hiii I’m not sure if ur request are open or not, if they’re not feel free to ignore this, but I was wondering if you could do a Legolas x Reader where the reader kinda inhuman ?? Like if you’re familiar with the Witcher then something like that ?? And like at first they really just don’t get along because everyone has this sort of misconception that Reader is a sort of monster and Legolas just takes longer to come around then the others and then eventually after spending so much time with them in the fellowship and stuff he’s just like “oh… they’re just like everyone else” and then like maybe they fall in love or smth 🫠🫠 if you don’t want to do this it’s fine don’t worry about it !! Hope ur having a good day/night and I love ur writing 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
This has been at the bottom of my inbox forever! Idk if this was what you were going for, but I hope you like the direction I took your prompt <3
At first the Fellowship is wary of you.
They’ve never met a wolf shifter before, and don’t fully believe that you’re in control of your powers despite Gandalf’s continued assurances that you are.
You can tell Legolas is particularly displeased when you pledge your strength to Frodo and become part of the Fellowship.
As you all begin the journey to destroy the ring, it becomes apparent that no one trusts you.
You win the Hobbits over first, when you hunt down some rabbits for Sam to cook and show Merry and Pippin a new dance you learned.
Next is Boromir, who was the least wary to begin with and finds your powers fascinating.
An interest in medicinal herbs wins Aragorn over.
When Frodo offers you the ring, your wolf self roars inside of you demanding you to take it. But you stand firm, your resolve earning Frodo’s trust and respect.
It wasn’t until the first battle that Gimli warmed up to you, when you fought by his side in wolf form.
Gandalf believed in your control and safety from the start, so the only person that was left to convince was Legolas.
It felt like no matter what you said or how hard you fought, Legolas didn’t trust you.
After Boromir’s death, you, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli traveled alone to rescue Merry and Pippin.
One night, Legolas found you awake next to the campfire, trying to bandage your wrist that you sprained while running in wolf form.
To your surprise, Legolas offers to put salve on your wrist and bandage it.
He’s gentle, whispering apologies whenever you wince in pain.
Seeing you vulnerable and in pain touches something inside Legolas, breaking through the barrier he’s kept up around you.
You stay up telling each other stories of battles you’ve fought in, and by the time the sun rises Legolas knows that he can trust you.
That night marks the beginning of your friendship, which will almost assuredly grow into something more.
