#Typically he is called the good doctor but when he gets all heated like this he is suddenly the mad doctor

[waitimcomingtoo]

Two Normal Arms

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: when Peter breaks his arm, he notices he gets a lot of attention from you. So much attention that he prolongs the broken arm as long as he can

Masterlist

Peter had a strict no texting while swinging rule.

That rule was broken one night on patrol during a particularly heated back and forth text conversation with Ned over whether chili was a soup or an entirely different category of food. Peter didn’t feel like waiting until he got home to respond, so he texted with one hand while he shot webs with the other. His eyes were glued to his phone as he went to grab a web that wasn’t anywhere close to where he thought it was. He went crashing to the ground, landing right on his right arm. He heard the crunch loud and clear and let out a little whimper. Peter peeled himself off the pavement and pulled his mask off to look at his arm.

“Well that’s not good.” He mumbled when he saw the curve in a place his arm didn’t typically curve.

He knew there was no way he could swing home with the arm but he was too far to walk. He looked around and realized he was in your neighborhood. He’d been to your place once before when Tony first bought you an apartment and wondered if he could find it again by memory. He ran up and down the block until he spotted a window with a light on near the top floor of a building twice the size of Peters. He could see a little Iron Man flag in the window and took a leap of faith that that was your apartment. He cradled his arm to his chest and gingerly climbed the side of the building until he reached the window. He used his head to knock on the window and sighed in relief when he saw you running to open it.

“Peter? What are you doing up here?” You whispered.

“I’m sorry. I would never bother you at home but I got hurt really badly and I can’t swing.” Peter winced and held up his arm. You could see exactly where the break was and put a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my God. Come in.” You said as you wrapped an arm around him and helped him inside. You helped Peter sit down on your couch before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Let me see this.” You said and gently moved his hand away from his arm. It was bent in an awkward way and resembled an “s”, something you didn’t know arms could do.

“Is it bad?” Peter asked you.

“One second.” You smiled sweetly and calmly walked into the next room. When you returned, you had a forced smile on your face.

“It’s not bad.” You answered him.

“You went over there to gag gagged, didn’t you?”

“I did. I’m sorry.” You cringed. “Broken bones gross me out.”

“Oh shit. You think it’s broken?” Peter asked and held the arm up. It limply hung in the air and you gagged again.

“Peter, honey, it looks like a fish hook.”

“Yeah. That’s probably not good, right?” He asked as he looked at it.

“I need to get you to a hospital.” You decided and grabbed your car keys.

“A hospital? That won’t be necessary. There’s no need for all that fuss. Can’t we just wrap it up and call it a day?” Peter laughed nervously.

“I don’t think so. I can put bandaids on your other cuts but this needs to be looked at by a real doctor.”

“You said you’ve seen every season of Greys Anatomy right? Can’t you just put on an episode and do what they do?”

“All they do is have sex during work hours. We can’t do that right now.” You shook your head as you threw your coat on. Peter stopped panicking for a second and felt his face heat up.

“But later?” He asked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and set your keys down.

“Hang on. We gotta get you out of those clothes.”

“Really? Now?” Peter gulped and grabbed his shirt with his free hand.

“Well we can’t get checked out as Spiderman without the doctors seeing this pretty face.” You teased and cupped his chin before walking towards your room.

“Oh. Right.” He blushed and touched his chin.

“I’ll grab some of my stuff.” You called from your room. You returned shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter pressed the button on the center of his suit and shimmied out of it before making eye contact with you. You gulped and quickly turned around to give him some privacy. Peter blushed and stood up to shake the suit onto the floor. He gingerly stepped into the pants and pulled them up with one hand. When it came to the hoodie, he knew there was no way he could put it on with one arm.

“Um….” He said as he struggled to get his head in the hoodie.

“You need help?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Yes please.”

You laughed and turned around to help Peter get dressed. You pulled his head through the opening and laughed when his messy hair stuck straight up.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled shyly as you fixed his hair.

“Anytime.” You smiled back.

“I kinda hate that your pants fit me.” He said sheepishly and looked down at the pants you had given him.

“Why? I think you look great in my clothes.”

“Oh. Well thank you.” He blushed. “You’d probably look great in mine.”

“I don’t know if I have the muscles to fill out your suit.” You sighed and nodded towards his discarded suit.

“It doesn’t have to be the suit. You’d look good in just my T shirt.”

“Just your T shirt?” You asked coyly, making Peter go bright red.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly explained.

“We can put your theory to the test later. Let’s get your arm looked at first.” You said and pulled him towards the door. Peter gulped and made it all the way to the car before stopping in his tracks.

“I can’t go to the hospital.” He blurted. You stopped and looked at him and we’re supposed to see the embarrassed look on his face as he cradled his arm.

“Why not?” You asked him as you put your hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and sighing.

“My aunt would never be able to afford it with her new job.” He admitted. “We’re barely making rent as it is. I can’t put this on her.”

“So don’t.” You shrugged. “Put it on my dads card.”

“I can’t just charge my medical bills to your dad.” Peter laughed uncomfortably.

“Sure you can. He won’t even notice. And if he asks about the card, I’ll just tell him I was shopping.” You insisted and pulled Peter towards your car.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head and stayed where he was.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Actually, I’m forcing. Get in the car.” You insisted as you opened the passenger door. You playfully pushed him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. You then climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

“Thank you.” He smiled shyly when you looked over at him.

“Of course. You can trust me, Peter. I’m your friend.” You smiled back and started to drive.

“Right.” His nodded as his smile faltered a little at the word “friend” but he didn’t say anything. By the time you pulled up to the hospital, Peter was in bad shape. His arm was swelling and causing him more pain than he had ever felt. You opened his door and helped him out of the car, feeling the way he was barely able to hold himself up.

“Hey, Y/n?” Peter winced and held on tight to you.

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Do you think you could lift someone my size?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“Because I’m about to pass out.” He said right before collapsing onto the ground.

When Peter woke up later in his hospital bed, he felt a whole lot better. So much better, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the giant blue cast on his arm. He didn’t know if it was the morphine he had been given or fact that you were sitting at his bedside with your hand that was keeping him pain free.

“Hey, Peter.” You smiled softly at him and brushed the hair off his forehead. Peter sat up a little in his bed and smiled back.

“So pretty. You look nothing like your dad.” He said sleepily.

“What was that?” You laughed even though you had definitely heard him.

“Want jello.” Peter said and licked his dry lips. You held his cup of water to his lips and helped him drink as the doctor came in.

“Oh, good. He’s awake.” The doctor said.

“Woah. What happened?” Peter asked ad he noticed his cast.

“We had to do surgery on your arm to set the bone back into place. You’ll be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.”

“I didn’t know your favorite color so I picked blue. I hope that’s okay.” You explained sheepishly.

“Blue is great. Thank you.” Peter smiled at you as he slowly felt more with it.

“It’s a good thing your girlfriend brought you in when she did. You had free fluid in your arm. It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come in right away.” The doctor told him.

“Oh. She’s not my-“

“Thank, doctor. Is there anything we should do now?” You cut him off as you turned to the doctor.

“He’s safe to bring home. Just keep the arm elevated and don’t get it wet. I can prescribe some pain meds as well.”

“Thank you. And could we get some jello too please?” You requested.

“No problem. I’ll be right back with that.” The doctor smiled and left the room.

“You broke your wrist, elbow and radius bone. Which I just found out is the bone in between your wrist and elbow. Who knew it had a name? But that’s why the cast goes so high.” You explained to Peter once you were alone.

“Damn. That’s a lot of bones. No wonder it hurts.” He said and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, but he liked it when you were worried about him.

“Oh no. It does? Can I do anything?” You asked and brushed his hair back again. Peter blushed and smiled softly as he looked into your concerned eyes.

“Just keep holding my hand, please. It helps with the pain.” He said and faked a cough for added measure. You fell right for it and squeezed his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. I won’t leave your side. But do you want me to call your aunt?”

“No, this will just freak her out. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Okay. You could crash at my place tonight if you want. I’ll drive you home tomorrow so we can tell her together. I wrote down everything the doctor said since you were still knocked out.”

“Wow. Thank you.” Peter smiled in appreciation when you showed him the list you had made. You smiled back and put the list down on his bedside table before looking at him. Peter was gazing at you intently because he could tell you had something on your mind.

“I like the color you picked.” Peter said to cut the silence.

“Oh, thanks. I was gonna go with red but I always thought you looked best in blue.” You said without looking at him. Peter blushed at the casual compliment and tilted his head to get you to look at him. You finally did look into his eyes and smiled softly.

“Peter, could I….”

“Yes?” Peter sat up eagerly at your question.

“Sign your cast?” You finished your sentence and he sat back in his bed.

“Oh, sure.” He agreed. You pulled a sharpie out of your bag and wrote your name on the front of Peters cast. Peters face reddened when he saw how big you had written it and he looked at his cast proudly.

“First one.” You smiled and put the sharpie down.

“Probably one of the only ones that will be on here.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, really? Maybe I should add something else then.” You said and picked the sharpie back up. Peter couldn’t see what you were drawing until you gently turned his cast towards him.

“Do you like it?” You asked timidly. Peter looked at his cast and saw that you had drawn a big heart around your name.

“I love it.” Peter blushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s an honor to be the first.” You told him. “Oh, and I went by the tower while you were sleeping and grabbed some of your clothes. The doctor said I can take you home once you can stand on your own.”

“I feel great, actually. Thanks for getting the clothes.” Peter thanked you as he got out of his bed. He got changed in the bathroom and met you in the room once he was done. You helped Peter get signed out before taking him back to your apartment.

“Stay here. I’ll make up the bed for you. Can I get you anything?” You asked as you helped Peter sit on your couch.

“Could I have some water please?”

“Of course.” You cupped his chin before going to get him a glass of water. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way you were babying him because of his injury. You returned with his water and sat beside him on the couch.

“Is there anything else I could get you?”

“I would love to shower. But I can’t get my cast wet.” Peter frowned and looked at his cast.

“You don’t have to.” You said and got back up. You returned shortly with a black garbage bag and held it up to show Peter.

“You’re a genius.” He smiled and got up from the couch.

“I aim to please.” You shrugged and opened the bag up. Peter went to put his arm inside but you stopped him.

“Um, you should probably take off your shirt before I put this on.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Peter replied and tried to take his shirt off, which proved to be difficult with only one hand. After watching him struggle for a bit, you grabbed the hem and helped him take it off. Peters face reddened as you pulled the shirt over his head and he smiled softly. You did your best to keep your eyes on his as you tied the bag around his arm and tried not to look at his body.

“There. That should protect it from any water.” You said as you never broke eye contact.

“Thanks. That was really smart.” Peter said quietly. You stayed staring at each other for a little too long before you snapped out of it.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left. Shampoo and conditioner is all in there. And I have extra towels under the sink.“ You said as you stepped away from him.

“Cool. Thank you.” He smiled once again before walking to the bathroom. Your garbage bag idea worked perfectly and he was able to clean himself without getting any water on the cast. He dried himself off to the best of his ability with one hand and stepped back into his boxers and sweatpants from before. That’s when he realized he had left his shirt out in the living room with you. Peter gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before going to find you again.

“Hey. All clean?” You asked when he came back into the living room.

“Yep. Could you take this thing off of me?” Peter asked and held up his arm.

“Sure.” You gulped and went over to him. You put on your best performance of pretending he wasn’t shirtless and glistening from the shower as you untied the bag and pulled it off. You made eye contact once again and quickly looked anywhere but his naked torso.

“Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” You asked and hoped the answer was yes.

“It’s okay. I think I can do it. You’ve already done so much.” Peter said as he grabbed the shirt. He managed to get one arm and both shoulders in before realizing he had no way of getting his cast through the shirt.

“I’m stuck.” He whined, making you laugh a little. He had his good arm sticking out over his head and his shirt riding up like a crop top .

“Aw. Look at you.” You chuckled and carefully pulled his broken arm through the shirt.

“Thanks. Again.” Peter laughed as well now that he was dressed.

“You’re very welcome. Now follow me. I’ll show you your bed.” You said and brought Peter to your guest bedroom. You had set it up for him while he was in the shower and put lots of extra pillows so he would be comfortable.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You turned to him to ask. Peter looked down at your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“Um….” He trailed off and looked over at the bed.

“How about some sleep?”

“Yeah.” He laughs through a yawn. “That sounds really good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, Peter. Goodnight.” You squeezed his arm before leaving the room. Peter stayed frozen in place for a minute and tried to touch his arm where you hand had just been, then remembered it was broken.

Peter woke up the next morning to the sweet smell of pancakes. He got out of bed and noticed that the pain in his arm had almost completely gone away. He flexed his fingers, something the doctor mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while, and realized his arm was probably mostly healed. He decided not to mention that discovery to you as he went to go find you.

“Good morning.” You smiled at Peter when he walked into your kitchen.

“It’s a very good morning. Hi.” He smiled back as you handed him a cup of orange juice.

“Sit. Eat. I can cut it for you if you need.” You offered as you put a plate of pancakes in front of Peter.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Peter smiled gratefully and picked up his fork. He went to pick up his knife and remembered his arm was in a cast.

“Hm.” He hummed when he realized his dilemma.

“Here. I got it.” You chuckled and took his fork. You cut Peters food up for him as he watched you with a dreamy smile. He’d never gotten this much attention from you before, or any girl for that matter. He was starting to think this broken arm was a gift from God.

“After breakfast, I can take you home and we can tell May together.” You offered as you got up and grabbed a spray bottle and a comb from the bathroom.

“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much already.”

“Please. I’ve barely done anything.” You scoffed and proceeded to wet his hair and then comb out his bed head. Peter turned to look at you with his newly styled hair and you sheepishly put the comb down.

“Okay. I see your point. I just like to take care of people. And I feel bad that you broke your arm. I’m sorry if I’m doing too much.” You explained as you sat back down.

“That’s okay. I’m not used to be taken care of like this. It’s kinda nice.” Peter admitted without looking at you.

“I think it’s nice too. To look after you.” You replied. You looked into each others eyes for a moment and exchanged a smile. Peter finished up his breakfast and got back into your car to go tell May what happened. As you explained to her everything the doctor had told you, all May could focus on was the pretty girl Peter had brought home.

“Wait, sorry, who are you?” May interrupted with an excited smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/n Stark. Peter works with my dad. He got hurt on patrol and my apartment was as close by.” You explained.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad Peter had such a lovely girl to take care of him. And that he knew where your apartment was. Because he’s been there before?” May asked and clasped her hands under her chin.

“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and hung his head. “It’s not like that, May.”

“Peter’s a friend.” You chuckled. “But I was happy to look after him.”

“Well I appreciate that. And I know he does too. He talks about you all the time, you know. I just didn’t realize it was you. He didn’t tell me how pretty you were.” May added.

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get going. See you later, Peter.”

“She’s cute.” May said once you were gone.

“She is. But you’ll probably never see her again because you just scared her off.” Peter groaned.

“I don’t know. Don’t think I don’t see that signature on your cast. It’s gonna take a lot more than an overbearing aunt to scare that girl off.” May said coyly.

“Wait, you really think so?” Peter asked.

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t go to that length for just a friend.” May shrugged. A smile crossed Peters face as it occurred to him this broken arm might have been exactly what he needed to get you to like him back.

Peter walked into campus next day with his cast in a sling. He went to the table he usually sat at between classes and saw Ned already sitting there.

“Hey dude. You never texted me back last- OH MY GOD.” Ned screamed and pointed when he saw the cast.

“Calm down. I’m okay. I just broke my arm.” Peter said with a huge smile.

“Uh, why do you seem so happy about it?”

“Because Y/n Stark took care of me.” Peter whispered excitedly as he sat down.

“Wait, Tony Starks daughter?” Neds eyes widened. “What?! How?”

“I couldn’t swing so I had to go to the nearest apartment I could find, which was hers. She drove me to the hospital and got me clothes while I was in surgery. Then she brought me home and let me sleep at her place.” Peter explained.

“You slept at a girls place?” Ned’s jaw dropped as he grabbed Peters shoulders.

“I know! I wish you could’ve seen it, Ned. She was so worried about me so she did everything for me. I’m talking combing my hair, cutting my food, she even helped me get dressed. Honestly, I think she might like me.”

“That’s hilarious.” Ned laughed. “Good thing you didn’t break your funny bone. Oh my God, wait, did you?”

“No, dude. I’m serious. You should’ve seen her. She was all over me in a way she never has been before. I think this broken arm is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Peter!” Your voice came from behind Peter so he and Ned turned around in confusion.

“Woah. What’s she doing here?” Ned asked and shook Peters arm.

“I have no idea.” Peter replied as a smile broke out on his face.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay I showed up like this.” You said as you sat down beside Peter.

“It’s totally okay. I’m happy to see you.” Peter said and leaned on his good arm to stare at you.

“I know it must be hard to do things for yourself with only one hand, so I thought I would bring you lunch. My dad mentioned that you always eat all the peanut butter when you’re at the tower so I made you a PBJ. Do you like those?” You asked him.

“I love them. Thank you so much. This is so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Peter said and touched your arm.

“It’s okay. I wanted to. I also cut you up some apple slices and packed a juice box.” You said and showed Peter was else was in the lunch bag you had brought.

“No way! I love apple juice.” Peters eyes lit up when he saw the juice. He reached for him but you put your hand on his arm.

“I got it.” You smiled at Peter and put the straw into the juice box. You then held the juice box up so that he could sip it, all while Ned watched in disgust.

“Oh my.” Ned mumbled.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” You asked Peter.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I figured since you can’t go on patrol while you’re healing, you could come hang with me at the tower. My dads been working on some new technology and I think you’d be a great help.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds awesome.” Peter grinned and nodded his head.

“Oh, good. You said yes.” You smiled timidly. “I could pick you up after class?”

“Sure. I get out at 4:25.”

“I’ll be here. See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm and got up to leave.

“Did you see that? This arm is a goldmine! She’s never been this interested in me!” Peter exclaimed once you were gone.

“No girl has!” Ned said with equal excitement.

“This is even better than the spider bite. I hope I never heal.” Peter sighed happily and looked at his cast.

“Can I sign it?” Ned asked and fished in his backpack for a pen.

“Of course.” Peter smiled and moved his cast towards Ned. Ned gently held Peters arm in place and tried to write on the top of his cast above his elbow.

“Ugh, it’s too curved. Can you flex so I can get a solid surface?”

“No, I can’t flex my broken arm. And your name is just three letters. Is it really that hard?”

“I wanted to draw the blue amongus guy. Please?” Ned whined.

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and flexed his arm the bets he could to give Ned a flat surface. When he did this, the cast cracked in half and fell in two pieces onto Peters lap. Chalk from the inside filled the air, making Peter and Ned cough as they waved it away.

“Oh shit.” Peter said and flexed his arm back and forth. Sure enough, it was perfectly healed.

“Dude!” Ned coughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that.”

“My arm is healed. Damn it!” Peter groaned and slammed his now healed arm on the table.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ned asked as he drew an amongus character on one of the halves of Peters cast.

“No. My broken arm was the one thing making Y/n pay attention to me. Without it, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.

“Maybe you could break your other arm?” Ned suggested. “Or both arms?

“I’m not gonna break my arm on purpose. That’s too crazy. I just need a new cast.” Peter said as he began to brainstorm.

“Maybe not. Maybe you just need some tape.” Ned said as he held the two halves of the cast together. Peter looked at the two halves and smiled as he formed a plan.

Peter texted you that he’d meet you at the tower instead so that he could rush home to work on his plan. When you opened the tower door to greet him, the first thing you noticed was that his cast had been wrapped in duck tape down the middle that was then colored with a blue sharpie. You could see spots of wet Elmer’s glue around the obvious crack, despite the sling Peter had placed the arm in.

“Hi!” He greeted you.

“Hey, you. What happened to your cast?” You laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing. I just scuffed it a little.” Peter lied and pulled it deeper into the sling.

“Uh huh. Come in.” You chuckled skeptically and led him to the lab. You held the door open for Peter and noticed him touching it with his broken hand as he passed through. You were already skeptical and decided to play with him a little.

“This is so cool. Your dad never lets me in here.” Peter said as he looked around the lab in awe.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come sit.” You smiled innocently and patted a chair at the lab table that wasn’t pulled out. Peter pulled it out with his broken hand and sat beside you. You eyed him curiously and he gave you an awkward smile. You decided not to expose him just yet and let him help you with a few things around the lab for an hour. He was beyond excited just to be there and you didn’t want to ruin it just yet.

“Can you figure out this formula for me?” You asked and handed Peter a marker.

“Sure.” He smiled and went to the whiteboard. He started writing with his broken hand and you watched with an amused smile.

“You should probably use your other hand.” You said, making Peter freeze.

“Oh. Right.” Peter forced a laugh. “I keep forgetting it’s broken. Which it definitely is. You saw it.”

“I did see it. Does it still hurt?” You asked and touched the sling.

“Oh yeah.” He lied. “Real bad.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and brushed some hair off his face. Peter gulped and blushed under your touch as he made a fist with his broken hand. You noticed him moving his supposedly broken hand and decided to tease him a little.

“You know, it’s really a shame your arm is broken.” You said and took a step towards him.

“Why?”

“Because we have the place to ourselves. We could’ve had a little fun together. But obviously we can’t, with your broken arm and all.” You replied and watched his face carefully for a reaction.

“A little fun?” Peter gulped again as you got even closer.

“You know….” You smiled coyly and walked your fingers up his arm.

“No.” Peter swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. You’re telling me you haven’t dreamed of fooling around in one of the giant rooms in this place?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you’re saying that’s what we would be doing? If my arm was healed?” Peter asked with wide eyes.

“Uh huh. Too bad it’s not.” You sighed dramatically and took a step back. Peter looked down at his fake broken arm and contemplated telling the truth.

“Yeah. That’s too bad.” He mumbled.

“Hey Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Catch.” You said and tossed a paper weight at him. Peter caught it with ease in his broken hand, making his cast break in half again. You raised your eyebrows as Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shit.” He whispered.

“Don’t feel bad.” You chuckled. “I knew you were faking it the second you walked in.”

“You did?” Peter sighed and pulled the cast and sling off.

“Come on, Peter. Duct tape?”

“I know. I’m not a craft boy.” Peter admitted with defeat.

“I can tell. So what’s with the fake cast?” You wondered as you folded your arms.

“The first one was real. I swear. But it healed quicker then I thought it would and I didn’t need it anymore.”

“Then why would you tape the cast around your healed arm?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know it was healed.” Peter mumbled, just barely audible but you still heard it.

“What?” You laughed. “Why not?”

Peter sighed again before looking into your eyes. You looked at him expectingly and he knew there was no way out of this.

“Because then you won’t hang out with me anymore.” He said with a sad smile.

“What?” Your smiled faded as your arms dropped.

“Before I broke my arm, I had trouble getting you to even look my way. But that night in your apartment, I never lost your attention. Not even once. And then you showed up at my school and met my friend and I guess I liked that so much that I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. So I taped my cast back together to keep your attention a little longer. I’m sorry.”

“Peter, I didn’t do all those things because you have a broken arm. I did them because I like you.” You said as walked back towards him.

“You do?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Even though I have two normal arms?”

“It’s something I’m willing to look past.” You smiled teasingly. Peter smiled back before winced and gripping his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I kinda triggered the injury when I broke the cast.” He grimaced and moved his shoulder in a circle.

“Aw. Do you want me to kiss it better?” You laughed sarcastically.

“Yeah. Can you?” Peter replied with equal sarcasm and held up his arm. You moved his arm down away from his face and leaned in to kiss him. Once Peter processed what was happening, he was able to kiss you back. He wrapped his now healed arm around your waist to pull you in, feeling the dull ache he got from moving it but deciding it was worth it.

“Any better?” You asked once you pulled away.

“Much.” Peter smiled and went to kiss you again.

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@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[denaliwrites]

What Beautiful Things I'll Wear

Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Doctor takes you to a masquerade ball during the Renaissance.

Soundtrack: Marry Me by Emilie Autumn

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp (I always forget this bit, I'm so sorry!)

Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.

"Oi! We're gonna miss it!" the Doctor called into the TARDIS wardrobe, startling you out of your reverie.

"You have a time machine!" you snapped back in lighthearted exasperation.

"We can't cross our own timelines!"

"I'm sure there are other balls we could attend, Doctor!"

"Yeah, but this one's got Machiavelli!"

"Wait, seriously?" you asked as you poked your head out of the wardrobe. "The Machiavelli?"

"Yeah," he said teasingly with a big grin. "So hurry up, before the party's over and he leaves!"

You sighed with a roll of your eyes and withdrew back into the wardrobe, adding the final touches to your ensemble in a rush.

Finally, you exited, adorned in a lavish dress of midnight and periwinkle. Sat delicately over your face was a silver wolf mask, which hid an equally wolfish smile. "How do I look?" you asked, giving the Doctor a twirl for effect.

He stood in silence, simply taking you in for a few moments. He looked somewhat awestruck, eyes wide and full of something you couldn't quite put a fully accurate name to. And the smile he gave you -- it was adoring in the way his smiles often were when he was faced with humanity's charm and brilliance. But it seemed deeper than that. More personal. Intimate.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Doctor?" you prompted him gently.

He blinked back to himself and his smile easily slipped into something more casual. "You look stunning," he told you as he held an arm out for you. There was still something in his voice that tickled your senses, but you left it, eagerly taking his arm. Without further ado, the two of you were off to the ball to meet Machiavelli.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Machiavelli had turned out to be a rather boring individual.

Well.

That wasn't fair. He just wasn't the kind of man you'd expected the writer of the Prince to be. He was a lot more mild, comparatively, and didn't seem to possess any of the traits that you, in your modern attitude, would consider Machiavellan.

Except maybe the way he seemed rather eager to get to know you biblically.

You swore, if he cooed one more "good lady" or "lovely mistress" or "darling girl" in your general direction, you'd lose your mind.

The worst offense, though, was that he'd separated you from the Doctor. You'd tried looking for him, but he'd seemingly vanished entirely from the ball.

Tired, lost, exasperated, you made your way to a bench out on a nearby balcony and flopped gracelessly onto the seat with a groan. It had already been such a night, and now all you wanted was to crawl into your bed.

You groaned again as a shadow fell over you. You turned, fully expecting to see the Machiavelli there to hound you into another dance.

Instead, you saw... nothing? But also something.

It cast a shadow, so you knew that there had to be something physically there. But as you looked, it seemed to shimmer and glide right out of your field of view, like the dancing dapples of light on the surface of a pool.

You'd spent enough time with the Doctor to know when things were a little... off. You weren't sure if this was the work of a perception filter, or something similar, but it definitely wasn't normal and it definitely wasn't human.

And it definitely wasn't throwing you off the trail.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a voice called out. "Don't!" You turned again to see the Doctor running towards you.

There was a sudden sting as something slid into your neck, and then heat spread out from the injection, dazing you. You heard the Doctor calling your name, even felt his hands on you, but couldn't see anything other than the shimmering man behind you.

"What have you done to her?" the Doctor shouted. You were startled, you felt it, yet your body didn't move. "Whatever you did, fix it! Cure her!"

You could feel the heat spreading. It felt like fire, razing through your veins like an inferno. You had the sense to know it should hurt, yet you felt no pain. Even so, you knew that without some kind of antidote, it'd kill you.

The Doctor seemed to know that too.

"Please," he said, and you realized he'd moved on to begging. "Please. Not her. Let me save her." Begging for you. For your life.

You watched as the entity produced something new -- it still shimmered, never letting you get a good look at it, but as it slipped into your neck you realized it was another needle.

This time, the plunger sent ice into your veins. It moved quickly, eating up the fire and leaving you shivering... but alive. You realized as the ice spread that, not only were you wracked with tremors, but you could move your own body voluntarily. You lifted your arms with difficulty and wrapped them heavily around the Doctor's neck. And gently, he tipped your head forward so that your eyes were finally on him.

"Doctor," you whimpered. "About damn time..."

He laughed a little at that, though it sounded hollow and the smile that came with it didn't reach his eyes. "Fashionably late as ever, eh?" he asked gently.

Your head lolled when you tried to nod. That made him laugh again, and that time it didn't sound so hollow.

"What did you do to her?" he asked the shimmering man again. There was no reply, and you almost thought that maybe the strange entity had left.

"She required correcting," a dozen voices said at once.

"Correcting?" the Doctor asked, pulling you closer protectively.

"The female carried disease. It's now eliminated, and she is corrected."

"Disease?" you and the Doctor asked simultaneously.

"She is corrected." With that, there was a whoosh behind you, and you knew that whatever that thing was, it was gone.

The Doctor stayed with you until you'd recovered, holding you close and stroking your hair with one hand while the other rubbed circles into your back.

Once you could move without fumbling like a ragdoll, he helped you to a stand and guided you towards the door.

Music still played in the ballroom, though most of the attendees had filtered out and the party was definitely in its final throes. Machiavelli, blessedly, was gone.

The Doctor brought you to a halt in the middle of the room and turned towards you with a light smile. "May I have this dance?" he asked, and though he tried to sound casual, you could hear that deeper note in his voice once again.

"You may," you answered thoughtfully.

He began leading you through the steps of a waltz you didn't recognize, but it wasn't too hard to pick up. You imagined he'd chosen something that would be easy for you, in case any effects from your "correction" still lingered.

"Doctor?" you murmured into his ear after a while of dancing in silence.

He hummed in acknowledgement, and you could've sworn his arms around you got tighter.

"You've seemed... a bit off, for a while... is everything okay?"

"Oh... everything's wonderful," he answered, and you could hear in his voice that he meant it. He shifted his arms so that he could cradle your face in his hands, one on your cheek and one on your neck, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where the entity had injected you with those strange substances. "Everything's perfect, in fact."

"Y-yeah?" you asked, looking into his eyes, your own wide as he watched you with such intense and bare adoration.

"Yeah."

You didn't pull away as he leaned forward, didn't move back as his lips pressed to your own. It was a sweet and tender kiss, the kind of kiss that sent an entirely different kind of warmth through your veins. You smiled sweetly into it, and you could tell the Doctor felt it as you felt his lips quirk up in response.

He pulled away, and while you leaned into his chest with a contented sigh, he peppered little pecks over your bare shoulders in reverence.

You stayed like that, swaying gently in a dance not from your planet, to music not from your time, up until the moment the band stopped playing.

[star--anon]

Do you have any headcanons for thominewt?

this took me several days because I was determined to make this post comically long and I genuinely don't remember why

I also ended up not making it comically long

so uh. sorry

anyway, OH MY GOD SO MANY

Newt is exceptionally good at guessing when Minho and Thomas are trying to hide their pain

and he has no issues with dragging them to bed

Minho probably does stupid shit like "birthday noogies" or whatever, which has inspired a 2v1 of Newt and Thomas VS Minho on April Fools

(Minho still wins, somehow)

Thomas gets dragged into things like astrology and fortune telling by Newt

Every time Minho tries to tell Thomas how stupid astrology is, Newt just scoffs and goes, "Typical Pisces behavior" and drags Thomas away

Minho is not a Pisces. Minho is a Libra.

Thomas calls him an "asymptomatic Libra" and Newt is very quick to jump on that train. Minho hates the both of them so, so much.

Thomas is a Virgo. Newt is a Taurus.

Minho can be turned into putty with enough kisses and hugs and gentle touches. It takes Thomas hours of work, but it's so worth it.

On the weekend, Newt often comes home to a pliant Minho with his face buried in Thomas' chest. Thomas just giggles.

Thomas loves long walks.

Sometimes the three go out together: Thomas strolling down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace; Newt several paces behind, stopping every few seconds to snap a photo of something cool with his fancy camera; Minho several blocks ahead, sprinting like his life depends on it, doubling back whenever he gets too far away.

Thomas and Minho are on piggyback duty if Newt's ankle ever acts up in the middle of a walk

Thomas once fell down trying to pick Newt up, so piggyback duty has mostly been delegated to Minho

Speaking of which, two of the rooms in the house (one of them is Newt's bedroom) are padded with extra insulation to keep it nice and warm during the winter because the cold messes with Newt's ankle

Minho carries heating packs in his pockets at all times and rubs them against Newt's ankle whenever the pain gets unbearable in public

Sometimes it helps, mostly it doesn't. Newt appreciates the effort.

Thomas tries to fight doctors who are reluctant to prescribe medication and/or painkillers.

Thomas studied law and is not afraid to use his Master's.

Newt wanted to get a bird, Minho wanted a dog, and Thomas wanted a cat. They compromised and bought fish.

Newt has names for each individual fish, Minho named all of them Guppy, and Thomas' names for the fish change with each conversation.

Newt prefers baggy clothes and often just steals Minho's stuff because Minho is SO FUCKING JACKED- ...because Minho's shoulder span is so much wider than Newt's

the only issue is that Newt is about three inches taller than Minho, so Minho's "big shirts" are like baggy crop tops

Thomas, who is more Newt’s height, starts buying clothes that he knows Newt will like and smirks whenever it disappears.

When the three go shopping together, Newt often shoves clothes that he wants to wear into Minho and Thomas' carts.

Thomas and Minho like to make bets with each other like "He'll take this one within a week."

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Honkai Star Rail Period HCs (Sampo, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Luka)

Original Ask: Could you do more period hcs? Dang Heng/Yinyue, Jing Yuan, Sampo, and Luka please.

Herr you go @yunthebishoujo

CW: blood, mentions of castration (Sampo), mentions of period sex

Sampo x afab! reader, Dan Heng x afab!reader, Jing Yuan x afab!reader, Luka x afab!reader

NOTE: Requests are now open

Sampo Koski

Tall, blue, and handsome? After dealing with you on your period or during PMS, he might be tall, blue, and singing soprano for the rest of his life

Good gods, Sampo would be insufferable. Not that he isn't anyway

It's not that I think he would be actively mean, but he's annoying and hormones make girls grouchy

That and I wouldn't put it past him to use your period as an excuse to run a scam

Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he's used the female populace's monthly affliction as a scam premise prior to dating you

He's just really likely too be just too annoying and end up with no dick as a result

On the other hand, he's a kinky bastard. He'd be up for period sex

Dan Heng

Dan Heng is #1 most clueless guy when it comes to periods

He's not a bad guy, but really, chicks don't advertise the call of mother nature, so he hasn't really dealt with Himeko and March on an intimate level

I'm not sure that's something he came across in his research and the Vidyadhara can't reproduce, so there's every chance female Vidyadhara don't have periods, so he may not even know periods exist

Needless to say, his first experience with your period is a bit of a surprise.

I feel like it would probably be something like waking up with blood on your sheets or having super bad cramps, or blood on the pants, ya know, shit that happens when you bleed for a week out of every month (total BS if you ask me)

Any way you cut it, Dan Heng is seriously concerned. To the point of potentially losing a little bit of his composure. He wouldn't panic but you're bleeding. is something wrong? Do you need to go to the doctor? Why didn't you tell someone?

"Yo, Dan Heng, calm down. This is normal. I do this every month."

Cue Dan Heng.exe has stopped working

To his credit, he stops, listens, and calms down. He's still unnerved, but he helps try to make you comfortable

But afterwards he goes to ask Welt and Himeko about it

In the future, he's pretty good about being aware of it and trying to be as good as possible about it, but I don't think he truly gets used to that much blood every single month

Jing Yuan

You know what? Jing Yuan is not that bad.

He has the advantage of age and being part of a species that reproduces

I'm not sure he's super familiar with the whole period thing, but it's at least on his radar to some extent

But when he starts dating you, he's like the most gentle person. He's the sort who really likes to take care of you and make sure you have what you need

He won't mother hen, but expect pads/tampons, heating pads, whatever your craving is, and plenty of cuddles and you don't even really have to ask

I mean, this guy is known for his ability to be prepared. 100% applies that to you

And if he's at all weirded out by the whole bleeds for a week straight and is fine (which, i do understand, in any other situation someone would have bed out already), he's not overt about it and doesn't let it affect how he treats you

Luka

Luka, Luka, Luka

Of the four, he's probably the most likely to be a typical guy about it

You're bleeding? And still functional? You do this every month? What sorcery is this?

At the same time, he has mad respect for you because he knows he couldn't do it

He also gives appropriate sympathy for cramps

At the same time, 100% best boyfriend. Ask and you shall receive

Totally down for period cuddles, stomach rubs and just general comfort

10/10 Luka is great

[thelastspeecher]

Ford Gets Purposefully Abducted

The title is a reference to the ficlet I posted a while back for my Accidental Abduction AU, which was titled "Stan Gets Accidentally Abducted". This is the I'm sure long-awaited story of how Ford was abducted by aliens in my Purposeful Abduction AU. As told to Stan, who is still recovering from being captured by and then escaping alien poachers.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Ford helped Stan through the front door. Stan would have tried to make it under his own steam, but he'd learned from trying that in the past that doing so after physical therapy sessions only ended with him collapsing to the floor.

              "Do you need heat or ice?" Ford asked once Stan was settled in his favorite armchair in the living room. Stan shook his head.

              "They cooked and froze me after they were done with me."

              "Good." Ford cleared his throat. "I spoke with your physical therapist. She's very pleased with your progress."

              "That lady's a drill sergeant," Stan muttered. Ford rolled his eyes, amused. "Did she say how much longer she plans on torturing me?"

              "Ah, well..." Ford sat on the nearby couch, pushing aside some of his son Proteus's toys to make room. "Healing is different for everybody. Right now, she doesn't know. But the road for your recovery is going to be quite long. Months at least. Likely over a year, if you want to be able to get back to, say, boxing."

              "Great."

              "I will say that you are recovering far faster than anyone expected. Even faster than I thought you would."

              "I'm a Pines. I'm supposed to get back up after I get hit with an uppercut." Stan sighed. "Speaking of, do they even have boxing on this planet?"

              "Not that I know of."

              "Look, I know you hated boxing lessons when we were kids, but you didn't need to go to a whole other planet to get out of them," Stan joked. Ford cracked a smile. The tension between the two of them was still thick at times, but after a few weeks of Stan staying with Ford, they were both beginning to thaw.

              "I assure you, I came to this planet for a very different reason," Ford said, his tone amused. Stan straightened.

              "Are you gonna finally tell me how you got here?" he asked. Ford blinked.

              "I haven't told you yet?"

              "No!"

              "And Fiddleford hasn't told you?"

              "No!"

              "Ah." Ford adjusted his glasses. "Work has been rather frantic of late. I suppose it slipped my mind that you had not been told." He fell silent, seemingly lost in thought.

              "So?" Stan prompted impatiently. "How'd you wind up a doctor on an alien planet?" Ford smiled.

              "I think you'll enjoy this story. It all started when I went to do research in Oregon after college, in a little town called Gravity Falls. I was focusing on studying anomalies, things that couldn't be explained by typical science. I was in the woods one day, tracking such an anomaly. However, I failed to keep a safe distance. It noticed my presence and turned, charging at me. Then..." Ford trailed off.

              "Then?" Stan asked. Ford's smile broadened.

              "Then, I was somewhere else entirely."

-----

              Ford kept his eyes screwed shut, waiting for the blow, for the teeth and claws that had been charging for him. But nothing happened.

              "Is it-"

              "I think it is a 'he'."

              "Is he broken?"

              Ford opened his eyes. His jaw dropped. Standing before him were the owners of the voices that had just spoken: unnaturally tall and colorful humanoid aliens. Aliens! Excitement quickly replaced his fear. One seemed to be female, with cobalt skin and long, magenta hair tied in an extravagant braid. The other appeared male, with the same color skin but a navy blue ponytail. Both stared at him with wide, nervous eyes, their irises like molten silver.

              They look similar enough to be related, but I don't know if their species has differences between individuals that I cannot perceive. The blue alien cautiously approached Ford.

              "Hello," it said hesitantly.

              "Hello!" Ford burst out immediately. The alien took a step back in shock. "Am I aboard your ship?"

              "Uh, yes."

              "Fascinating!"

              "You seem less...frightened than we expected," the pink alien said. It had a higher voice, fitting its feminine appearance. "Your species has not made contact with other planets yet. We thought this would make you afraid of us."

              "You beamed up quite possibly the only person on Earth who would be pleased by this turn of events," Ford said. The aliens shared a wary, discomforted look. "Well, other than the large-haired man on the Used to Be About History Channel."

              "You are...pleased?" asked the blue alien. Ford nodded. He looked around the room, soaking in the sights he had previously only witnessed on Star Trek. The large room was glowing faintly with light from a source Ford couldn’t ascertain. The blue alien retreated, joining the pink one behind a console table with holographic screens floating above it. Ford took a step off the raised circle in the center of the room that he had been standing on. The aliens’ faces flooded with panic.

              “No need to get closer!” the pink alien said urgently. Ford nodded absentmindedly. He walked around the perimeter of the raised circle, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.

              I’m in a real-life transporter room! Just behind the aliens was an open doorway. The height of the arch was at least eight feet. These aliens are very tall, but they look to be roughly six and a half feet. Not even close to the height of the doorway. Perhaps they are short for their species. Or perhaps the doorways of their culture allow for extra clearance. Whatever the answer, Ford was yearning to walk through the door and explore the rest of the ship. I wonder if it resembles the Enterprise. Or perhaps the TARDIS. Or even the Millennium Falcon!

              “Um, please, stand on the teleporting pad,” the pink alien said.

              “Why?” Ford asked.

              “So we can send you back home,” the blue alien said. Ford stared at them.

              “But…you abducted me. Are you not bringing me to your planet?” he asked.

              “We did not intend to abduct you,” the blue alien said firmly. “Merely rescue you.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “We came to this planet to visit our older brother,” the pink alien said. “We saw that you were about to be harmed, so we brought you onto our ship to protect you.”

              “Why would you care about some random human?” Ford asked. The aliens’ eyes grew wide, almost as though they let slip something they weren’t supposed to.

              “Why not?” the blue alien said after a moment. “Is not every life valuable?”

              “True enough,” Ford said with a nod. He looked at the teleporting pad, then back at the aliens. “I want to stay.”

              “What?!” the aliens yelped.

              “Let me come with you to your planet,” Ford begged. “This is everything I’ve dreamed of!”

              “That would be a very bad idea,” the blue alien said. “No, it is best for you to stay on your home planet, with your people.” Ford scowled.

              Time to change tactics, I suppose.

              “Fine,” he sighed. The aliens’ shoulders relaxed. “I’ll have to call the man from the Used to Be About History Channel after you return me.” The aliens’ shoulders tensed again.

              “W-why?” the pink alien asked.

              “To tell him everything about my experience, of course!”

              “You cannot do that!” the blue alien said frantically. “Your species has not made contact-”

              “This certainly seems like a form of contact to me,” Ford said with a shrug. The aliens looked at each other. The pink one pulled the blue one to the side. They had a hushed conversation in a strange language that seemed to be composed of screeches and creaking noises.

              They must have turned off whatever translating device they were using to communicate with me. Ford occupied himself by continuing to examine his surroundings. After a few minutes, the aliens came back.

              “Very well,” the pink alien said in a tight voice. “You may come with us to our home planet.”

              Ford grinned.

-----

              “Wait,” Stan said suddenly. Ford looked at him. “No one on Earth would’ve believed you if you told them you were abducted.”

              “Correct.”

              “So you lied to get what you wanted?” Stan asked. He chuckled. “I guess we really are twins.”

              “I didn’t outright lie,” Ford argued. He looked away. “I just…allowed them to come to an incorrect conclusion.”

              “Uh-huh. And when did they figure out you manipulated them?”

              “After we arrived at this planet. Their mother is half-human and knows enough about Earth to recognize my bluff for what it was,” Ford said. “It made for an awkward few days while I stayed with them.” Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “They still let you stay with them?”

              “They’re rather forgiving,” Ford said with a shrug. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It helped that Angie’s twin brother, as it was the two of them who rescued me via abduction, pointed out that Angie would have done the same thing I did.”

              “She’s a manipulator, eh?” Stan nodded slowly. “Feisty. I like that in a woman.”

              “Stanley, do not try your moves on my sister-in-law,” Ford said, his previous light mood gone. “My married sister-in-law, need I remind you.”

              “Not for long,” Stan said under his breath. Ford narrowed his eyes. “You know that marriage isn’t gonna last.”

              “It’s not my place to comment on that. It certainly isn’t yours,” Ford said firmly. He got up. “You should go to your room to rest. Fiddleford will be bringing the children home soon.”

              “Wh- but you didn’t finish telling me everything,” Stan protested.  “You told me how you got here, but not how you became an alien doctor.” Ford managed a small smile.

              “I’ll save that story for another time.”

              “Fine,” Stan sighed. Wobbling, he got up from the armchair. Using his cane, he hobbled out of the living room, down the hall, and into the guest room he was staying in. He collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

              Moses, that sister-in-law of his is a helluva woman. I want to shoot my shot with her so bad it hurts. But even if Angie does get a divorce soon, she won’t want me. Not when I’m like this. Stan closed his eyes. Someday I’ll nab a date with her. Or some other tall alien dame. Stan began to drift off to sleep. Someday.

[enterwittyjokehere]

Doctor's Orders

[Primis! Edward Richtofen x amab! Reader Smut]

⚠️Warnings⚠️

[Amab reader]

[Male nickname used]

[Censored swearing]

[Mentions of blood]

[Multiple org*sms]

[Blowj*b]

[Handj*b]

[Thigh h*mp*ng]

[Borderline s*x**l torture]

[HEAVY GAY SMUT 18+ ONLY]

"Nein! We can not risk you coming along right now, mein Herz." The German doctor of the group argued against you.

He stared down tenderly at you, he was much taller than you. Yet, you held your ground, staring up at him and did not back down.

"I can still help, it's a swollen wrist." You retorted, getting closer to the doctor.

"Technically. It's dislocated." He said, placing a hand on your shoulder, "and you shouldn't be shooting with it, it could cause more injury."

"Ed, I'm not just gonna sit here while you four-"

"(Y/n), bitte, just listen to me, you only need stay here und rest. Doctor's orders." The joke was funny, but Edward only frowned.

You and Edward had been "not dating" for... well, time was weird... you started somewhere in 1940's Germany. Except you weren't even born until early 1990's, but to you it had seemed like eons.

The relationship the two of you share, is typically very strictly sexual, although, you always craved more. You are more than happy to be what Edward needs in the present, to you he is a gift, a breath of fresh air from all the other men and women you've been with.

You sighed, heavily, "Fine, Edward. Whatever."

"Do not be like that, it is for your own good." Edward said, slinking a hand to your jawline, "und when I am back, I'll have something to make it worth your wait."

Heat, from the blood rushing to your face, made you have a terrible red hue cover your cheeks. Your lips turned slightly up at the ends, "OK, doc, whatever you say."

"That's my boy." He said, leaning down to kiss your lips, smiling into the embrace before-

"YO! Doc, you coming or what?" Dempsey, an American marine, called out from the next room over.

Edward groaned as he pulled away, all ready annoyed with the American, "Dempsey may not make it back."

Laughter erupted out of your mouth, "I wouldn't mind that either. Be safe."

"Jawohl." Taking his leave, Edward walked through the doors.

Almost immediately after, loneliness set it's cruel hooks into your mind. You had so very little alone time, with the other four men, you weren't sure how you could spend the next few hours.

You laid down on small bed you had claimed, the springs were worn, some broken, and the mattress was busted open, with the stuffing leaking out in certain places.

A bed, however, was a luxury in your line of work. You tried to rest, closing your eyes waiting for sleep's warm, welcoming embrace.

It never came.

After what felt like hours you sat up, pacing around. You felt useless, your team was out there, trying to turn the power on, slaughtering countless flesh addicts and you were what?

Supposed to rest?

You let out a loud groan, covering your face with your hands, "Richtofen is just trying to make me useless."

You finally sat down on the concrete floor, wishing for anything to do. Your thoughts wondered what the team was doing, how they were getting along with out you.

Images of Edward stabbing his way through hordes of zombies, him covered in blood. Before, the whole time travel thing, you never cared for things of gorey nature, although, Edward gets a certain way when blood is present.

The memories alone were enough to light a needy fire in your core. You continued daydreaming, before you could realize to stop yourself, your pants were tight. Fighting against your growing er*ct*on, "F**k!"

You Palmed the zipper of your trousers, moaning slightly at the contact. An idea popping into your mind, "I know how I'll spend my afternoon alone."

You stood back up, almost diving onto the busted bed, hastly unbuttoning your trousers and slipping them off. You slipped your hand under your waistband of your underpants, teasing yourself, you carefully rubbed the head of your c*ck.

Your hips jolted forward at the action, a string of swears left your mouth. Knocking into your sore wrist, "Ah f**k!" You cried out, the pain making you retract your hand.

You slipped out of the loose fabric, pumping yourself in your hand, carefully, allowing enough time in between to tease the tip.

The bed beneath you began squeaking as you rythmically moved your hand. The fire in your core was so dull compared to the aching in your wrist, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

Your hips moving on their own as well, your other hand messaging your sack. The popping of your sore wrist made the pain almost double each time. It wasn't long before steamy tears blinded your vision, the pain being too much.

The closer you got to your climax, the less you began to care however.

"AH-! F**k Edward-" you moaned out, you imagined the German, pumping his own hand around you. His pretty mouth lightly suckling on your balls, while his hand worked.

He would also be pumping his own c*ck, he would get more pleasure from it though, being uncircumsized.

"S-Shit..." You slurred out, as you heard a loud pop. Your wrist crackling as you quickened your pace, "F**k it hurts."

You tossed your head back, getting so close right before-

The door swung open, "Are you ok-?"

You froze, you glanced up at Edward, who was also frozen in his tracks, your breathing began to steady as you stared at your startled lover.

A quick blush crept onto his typically stoic expression, "Ah... apologies. I had only heard- und I assumed..."

Edward's grey eyes widened and glanced away as he noticed where he was staring, "Es tut mir leid-! I'll... umm.. leave you to it."

Edward attempted to sneak away, before your sweet voice caught his ear, "Ed, please, don't go."

It was barley over a whisper, he reopened the door, eyes wide. Stepping into the room again, "Edward... If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some help.. My wrist really hurts when I-"

"J-ja... well this is the last thing you should be doing!" His doctor persona took over, approaching the bed, "but not to worry, Schatz, I will take care of you now."

Not wasting any time, Edward began disrobing, walking towards you and unbuttoning his vest. He walked on his knees on the bed, crawling towards you as he through his vest off.

Locking his lips with your own, he bent over you, undoing his belt. Your hands moved to begin unbuttoning his white, bloodstained shirt, carefully to not anger your sore appendage more.

He growled against you, chuckling darkly, "so eager?"

You could only hum a response, 'mmhmm'

With a firm jerk, his trousers were down to his knees and his chest now exposed where you had unbuttoned his shirt. You looped a finger under the waistband of his boxers and slipped them lower, "Let the examination begin."

His husky voice in your ear, made you shiver. Edward licked his lips staring at your already erect c*ck, he took you in his mouth, his head moving up and down on you.

You moaned beneath him, a hand moving into his hair to ground yourself. One of Edward's hands played with your balls, the other drawing circles on you thigh. You so were so close, it was almost overstimulating.

"Ed-! Please." You mumbled out, The German doctor chuckled, making you moan as it sent vibrations through your needy core.

Fighting against your self, your hips attempted to buck into Edward's mouth, but you focused on keeping them down. So scared to lose this climax, he was so willing to give you.

You slightly opened your eyes, glancing at Richtofen, who's grey eyes had been staring up at you this whole time. Your hand had tussled his usually perfect hair, his face was red and drool covered his mouth.

He continued moving, however, staring you in the eyes as he did. "Ed. I'm so close." You were finally able to gasp out, his hand constricting around your balls, causing you to through your head back.

He continued to pump, squeezing the small organ, it was driving you crazy. "F**k.. Ah-!" A hand found your mouth as you climaxed in the doctor's mouth. He choked sitting up, he wiped his face then tasted his fingers.

"Delicious as always."

You could only laugh, your breathing still incredibly heavy and your hand aching even worse.

Edward stood up, "Now, sit up." His accent seeming to get thicker.

"Richtofen, I think I need a second.." You breathed out, holding your rapidly falling chest.

"Nein, you want to feel better do as the doctor says." He said, grabbing your healthy arm and pulling you out of your horizontal position.

You sat on the edge of the bed, Edward pumping your sore c*ck. You became more and more noisy as he did, moans and gasps leaving your mouth so much more this time.

When your c*ck was hard enough to barley stand on it's own, Edward turned around guiding the c*ck into him. You moaned more, hiding your face in the crevice of his neck.

Edward rode you, bouncing on your lap, the feeling was euphoric, because you were already so overstimulated.

"Scheiße... right there." Edward said, focusing on where to hit for his own pleasure.

Your c*ck got harder and harder inside of the German, your hands finding his much larger c*ck. Playing with it, you began to pinch the foreskin and play with his tip, making him much more vocal.

His bouncing got more paced as your massaged his length, a hand finding your hair, pushing you farther into his neck if it was even possible.

You could feel your second climax approaching, you began pumping Richtofen in your hand. He squirmed around, trying to get more friction, causing you to moan as he moved around on your aching c*ck.

"Ja, ja. Bitte, please, please." He cried out, you bit the skin on his neck lightly, making him repeat his previous action.

Your hand stopped pumping as euphoria washed over you once more, squeezing your hand tightly around Edward's c*ck. The warm feeling combined with the squeezing made Edward follow in his own euphoric release.

"Ah-! Mein Gott!" He said, in between heavy breaths.

"Alright, Ed! I think I'm done." You said, as you finally caught your breath, only to be met with a laugh.

"You may, aber ich bin nicht!" The doctor said, standing up, pulling a wince from your mouth as the cool air replaced Edward's warm insides.

"I don't think I can anymore, Ed, you're gonna give me the opposite of 'blue balls'.."

Your pleading only made the German have a twisted smile, like he planned to give you the fullest extent of any torment you'd been put through, "Do not worry, my heart, the doctor will take good care of you."

Edward stood before you, sticky white strings dripping off his thighs and p*n*s. He wore a wicked smile, looking down at you biting his lip, giving you the feeling of a prey animal being cornered.

A firm hand gripped your well wrist tightly, pulling you up, "und now, my darling, it is your turn."

Edward said darling as a growl, his hands pressing into your hips as he leaned down to capture your lips. Kissing you rough and full of passion, you moaned into the kiss, leaning closer into his chest.

Enjoying the feeling of being so close to the man you had grown to love, before it was all ripped away as he pushed you down onto the busted mattress again. Falling on your stomach, you winced as the bedding collided with your hurt hand, "Argh, Scheiße-!"

Turning to see Edward standing above you slowly pumping his c*ck, his eyes prying into your fragile body. Oh if looks could kill...

He slowly crawled onto the bed, laying on top of you, his lips brushed over your ear, "C*m before me and we'll have to go again, verstanden?"

You nodded, muttering swears under your breath. Edward groaned in your ear as he slid himself into you, you grabbed fistfuls of the bedding. Edward's c*ck was exactly how you would have imagined, long and built, much like the rest of his body.

He pumped into you, huffing with his movements, "Ah- Ja, ja."

Your face was buried in the mattress, tears leaking into it, your own p*n*s being rubbed by the motion your body moved and the mattress beneath. Had you not been almost at your thrid climax, you probably wouldn't have been so quick to or*a*m again.

"Awe, mein poor lad." Richtofen faked a pout as he slammed into you at a rather quick pace.

The tightening in your stomach shown through the mocking, you were close but you couldn't c*m just yet. Otherwise, Edward would continue to torture you, it was all too much.

You whimpered, attempting to hold it in, "F-fuck, Ed. No, stop." You struggled out, trying so hard to fight against your ever approaching climax. You clenched, attempting to stop the climax, however, you could not.

You came on the bed.

Edward only laughed, continuing to hit that spot you liked, you let out groans that sounded like they came from the put of your gut. Your eyes rolled back, your body twitched, "Fuck-!"

He groaned biting his lip as he came inside you, he stayed in your twitching warmth a little while before pulling out.

"One more time, as promised, darling, und we'll be done."

"I'm gonna get you a fl*shlight." You mumbled at him.

"A what?"

"Nothing, Ed. Just f**k me already." You said, no enthuasm at all.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in, more than just your sore wrist ached. You rolled over looking at the German who just continued staring at you with those damned eyes. He once again, laid over you kissing you sweetly on the lips, "this time will be more fun."

Grabbing onto your thighs, Edward pushed your legs apart and lifted them up. You felt semi-ridiculous but were far too tired to complain, Edward situated himself in between your thighs. His still firmly er*ct c**k, in the center as he closed your legs around him.

He humped into your thighs, his p*n*s rubbing against your own. You moaned as he quickened his pace, the overstimulating feeling began to die down and you were once more enjoying the action.

Edward seemed to be enjoying so much more, though. He pumped himself quickly between your thighs, huffing and groaning, scattered words of German flew from his mouth.

You took your hand and began pumping your own c**k, you wrist crackling again, the pain making you wince.

"Nein-!" Edward grabbed your hand, holding it firmly, "enjoy me."

It was more of a command than he expected, but you had no complaints.

Edward continued humping your thighs, his tip rubbing against your c**k with his movements.

"F**k, Ed." You groaned.

"Ja, me too." He said, bringing the hand he was holding to his face, placing delicate kisses to it.

With a loud moan and his body trembling, Edward's hips began to stutter as his thrusts became more sporadic. His tip grazed against yours, sending you into a small or*a*m, Edward soon followed suit, as you were both covered in sticky white strings.

Your last sight being Edward collapsing beside you, breathing heavily.

[punks-never-die205]

Unseen

afab!reader x Killer

CW: canon-typical violence, smooches, sexy times, second go at life try again style story, 18+ only

Chapter 2: All in a Daze Work

Consistent meals, consistent sleep, and consistent work were things you hadn't had before now, and it was a little awkward to adjust to it. The first few nights you barely slept 4 hours because you weren't used to getting much rest in the first place. Swabbing the decks was a relaxing job and you did it with enough gusto that Wire asked you what Killer put in your breakfast to make you that happy.

Honestly, you were just happy to not have to look over your shoulder every few minutes. CP9 could just drop out of the sky if they wanted to, but it was statistically unlikely for them to do so. Especially since there was no indication that you'd gotten aboard a pirate ship. The ship itself was full of new and distraction worthy levels of things for you to learn. You pestered the crew for anything they'd willingly show you, and usually it was a bit of a trade.

You'd learn a rope knot and you'd teach them the shoulder throw you did to Killer. They'd teach you how to whittle, and you'd tell them the basics of armament haki. House taught you how to assist her with doctor stuff, since you had nimble fingers and good focus, and it was a good way to keep you out from underfoot of the rest of the crew when you'd done all you'd been asked to for the day.

It took a couple days to convince Killer to let you help in the kitchen. It was a treat to be able to use a kitchen to cook meals, and if you were being completely honest, you could listen to Killer talk for hours. His presence was relaxing, and his voice was calming. He spoke evenly, and with minimal prompting would show you how to do all sorts of things when it came to cooking. He had a real passion for it, and you were more than happy to do prep work in exchange for good food.

Killer having help meant that the quality of food rose for the whole crew. Time constraints meant Killer could only really focus on food for the Big Four as you called them: Killer, Kid, Wire and Heat. Everyone else got what Killer would call scraps, but it was still delicious. With you doing most of the slicing and dicing, leaving Killer to focus on the finer points, it meant everyone had really good food.

This made you besties with almost the entire crew overnight. They were all closeknit, and had accepted you, but there was a big difference between "On the crew" and "welcome by the crew". Suddenly you had a lot more names to keep straight: Gig, Rock, Hop and Hip who weren't related, they assured you - Dive, Papas, Emma, Boogie, Bubblegum, Reck, and Pomp, and a dozen more.

You let everyone call you Brat, or Short stack, or whatever else moniker they wanted to give you. You were shy about giving out your name because it felt like there was an alarm attached to it. If you said it out loud then the wind carried it to the ears of CP9. It felt safer for you to stand on the shores of Mary Geoise and declare your hatred of the five elders than to speak your name into the wind.

Once you hit a routine it felt good. You slept closer to six hours, and your schedule was nice. Wake, swab, breakfast, haki lecture – being able to teach the crew in exchange for being accepted made you feel better, snacks, help House, help Killer, dinner, sparring/stretching/being a nuisance, and then sleep. Which only got shuffled if you were rotated in for being on lookout duty, which happened a little more often than you think it was supposed to after you proved you could leap into the crow's nest in almost a single bound, and when you spotted trouble before anyone else could see it.

"MARINES!" You bellowed down from the crow's nest, catching the sails on the horizon. You jumped down from the crow's nest and landed beside Wire who had come over to the mast. "Off the starboard quarter, they're a long way out, I don't know if they've seen us."

Wire looked, squinted, looked longer, "I don'- Oh. There it is. Sharp eyes, Short stack."

You grinned, "You can call me Brat, Wire, it's fine."

Wire gave a weak smile and a grunt. "Then go tell the Captain, Brat. He should be in the mess with Killer."

You gave a lazy salute and took off, Wire started organizing people on the deck. It had been a couple weeks, so you knew the ship well, and slipped through the halls easily to the get to the galley. You still ran silently because you'd moved silently for years, so you didn't think much of it. You caught part of a conversation before loudly bursting into the galley to interrupt it.

"It's asking too much, Kid-."

"Marines!" You hollered, stepping into view. "Off the starboard quarter. Might not have seen us yet, Captain."

Kid's aggravated gaze that had been directed at Killer turned into an interested smile. "You sound excited, Brat."

You shrug, "Marines are little birdies who talk to Cipher Pol. Pirates are good bird hunters." You take a step back to stop blocking the door as Kid and Killer start toward you. "And admittedly, it's been a long time since I let all out in a fight. Well, as all out as I can risk at least."

Kid quirked an eyebrow walking by you, and you explained. "If I copy your power I might as well clap myself in irons and go lay in Rob Lucci's lap. I like being a nameless bounty-less pirate."

"Only one way to keep that record if we face these marines." Killer stated, ruffling your hair and sending an unexpected shock down your back. You'd been finding yourself enjoying sparring with him specifically and the kitchen was snug for two people. Skinship was something House had to explain to you, but she laughed when she did, and said what you were dealing with weren't as familial.

"If it's them or me," you mumbled. You weren't keen on killing, but it weren't like you weren't able to. Still, it was pretty obvious it wasn't your first choice.

"You've got nakama now, Brat." Kid stated, stepping into the sunlight of the deck. "You can line 'em up and leave them for the crew."

"House doesn't even fight at all," Killer added.

"House's the doctor." You looked away and rubbed your arm before following after them.

"And you're the reason half the crew can use armament haki now," Killer rebuked. "If you want to stay out of sight, it's fair to say that's okay."

You grunted. "If I wanted to stay out of sight I wouldn't have passed out on the roof of the cabins."

The crew went into a routine that was well-practiced from long before you'd joined. You stayed out of the way, the first time wasn't the time to try and help, but you took in as much as you could so you'd know what to do next time. Kid had the boat turn to meet the Marine ship, and you kept your eyes on the horizon to make sure the singular ship was indeed on its own.

Seconds later you heard the shrill whistle as the Marine ship finally realized they weren't alone on this open patch of water. You could feel tension rising in the air around you, but there a sort of joy coming off Kid and Killer.

When you liked to fight, you liked to fight.

Cannons fired around you, memories of your time with CP9 slipped through your mind, and you ran haki through your quarterstaff. Rushing toward one another it didn't take long for the ships to close the space between them. Kid kept most of the cannonballs aimed at his ship at bay, his devil fruit was efficient for such a thing. You knew what you could do with your haki and wanted to knock back a cannon ball, when the perfect shot lined up, you shouted for it and leapt.

You hadn't explained spreading haki into a weapon, it was hard to describe and teach until someone had a solid understanding. You connected and pushed it back, but the force of a cannonball shot was more than you had expected. Your quarterstaff was fine, and so were you, but the return force from the shot acted on your airborne body. This was your first time doing something like this, so you hadn't adjusted for the impact when you leapt.

You would've been shoved back into the deck awkwardly, but fortunately Killer caught you. "Was that haki in your stick?"

"Quarterstaff," you corrected for the 100th time, "and yes."

"If you want to knock cannonballs out of the air you need haki in your body too." He suggested, setting you down on the deck. You could feel him giving you a bemused look from under the mask.

"You are not wrong." You admitted.

Your conversation was cut short as the two ships were side by side and all hell broke loose. You had decided to stay on the Victoria Punk this time, instead of rushing onto a Marine Ship that might have your picture onboard. You put your own face covering on, pulling up a hood, and leapt into the fray on the deck, as half the crew – led by Kid and Killer – went onto the Marine vessel.

The fight went laughably fast. It took longer to rid the Victoria Punk of dead marines and pull supplies from the defeated marine vessel. It was unsettling moving corpses, you had to admit, and your stomach churned a few times. In all the work you'd done for CP9, corpse disposal wasn't a part of that. When all was said and done you distracted yourself by swabbing the last of the signs of the fight off the deck.

As the sun was dipping below the horizon, you were sitting on some crates by the stern of the ship, watching the sun vanish. Killer came and sat with you, and you realized that you'd missed your window to help him cook.

"How you holding up, brat?"

"Well enough. I'd killed before for CP9 before I bailed, but," you fiddled with your hair absently, "I never had to deal with corpses. It's weird, isn't it? Being okay with creating corpses but not with sorting 'em out after."

"Back up, you worked for CP9?"

Oh.

"Yeah." You answered quietly. "I was recruited when I was 6, I ditched at 16. I've been dodging them for seven years now."

"Why run after ten years?"

You shrugged. "They realized I had this... gift? To copy devil fruit powers, and suddenly I was being thrown at every problem." You stretched, realizing Killer was relaxed and wasn't getting ready to toss you off the ship. "After a while it felt less like I was doing some kind of grand good for the world, and more like I was just a little slaughter bot for them to unleash on fools too weak to stop me."

You hugged your knees up to your chin, resting your head against your them and smiling. "I decided I wanted to live by my own values and left. I was almost unsuccessful, but Lucci underestimated me and I managed to give him the slip after he thought I was beat."

"Well, I'm glad you ended up here, brat." Killer admitted as the last few rays of like shimmered over his mask.

Ba-thump.

"Me too," you admitted, feeling the heat rising into your face and being grateful there wasn't any light to see it by. "Ah, I missed helping with dinner, is there still food?"

"If there isn't, I'll cook something." He assured you, "It's been a day for you, so I don't mind."

You laughed, stepping down from your box. "Despite your insistence otherwise, I'm well aware you enjoy cooking for your crew, but I still appreciate it. It's nice to be pampered sometimes."

Killer extended an elbow toward you and bowed ever so slightly. "Lady." He prompted; you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh, what a gentleman," you replied in an overly dramatic fashion. Your heart was beating itself to death in your chest as you slipped a hand through the crook of his arm, trying your absolute best to remain outwardly calm.

You saw House on our way back. "Oh, hey love birds," she said, not even looking up from her paperwork to look at us. You couldn't stop the small jolt that ran through you, but you tried to slip your arm out of Killer's as naturally as possible. "Captain says he wants to talk to you both after the brat's got some food in her gob."

You went red to your ears for a moment, glad to be standing behind Killer and still mostly in the dark. Killer's voice was steady when he spoke, but it seemed to take him a second longer than usual to reply.

"Sure thing."

[nolesserhuman]

what a match, I'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet. [part 1]

PM Dazai + reader "you'll never remember, your head is far too blurry" // Dazai doesn't know how to take allergy meds. ~3.k words warnings: misuse of medication, dazai-typical suicide references. ao3.

Dazai is beginning to suspect that something might actually be wrong this time.

Admittedly, he always wakes up feeling bad— for whatever reason, he manages to convince himself that he definitely won’t be hungover this time— so when there’s a sharp pressure behind his eyes before he even opens them, he vows for the third time this week to swear off alcohol. It’s only Tuesday.

When he rolls over to bury his face back into his pillow, a loud groan works its way out of Dazai’s throat, one that echoes off the walls of his shipping container as if he’s surrounded by constant misery. 

Every muscle in his body aches. When he inhales, his chest is sticky; trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, his limbs feel like they’re filled with sand. Too heavy. Whatever he’d done yesterday couldn’t have tired him out this badly— it’s probably just his shell of a body protesting the idea of work. The rest of him doesn’t want to work either.

Dazai mashes his face against the thin pillow and hopes he suffocates. But he can’t do that quite yet; there’s a meeting with Mori today, and if he skips that, the doctor won’t even let his death be peaceful.

A cough rudely interrupts his thoughts. His chest tightens, and Dazai tries to stifle it, but that only makes it worse; he can feel his lung spasm behind his ribs and, as a hacking fit finally bursts out of him, Dazai tumbles out of bed and to the floor, determined not to cough up phlegm in the one place he’s able to sleep.

He hits the steel floor with too hard of a thud for someone so clinically underweight. The chill seeps through Dazai’s thin clothing and cotton gauze and saps the remnants of heat from his frail body. Dazai lays there for who knows how long, staring blankly up at the ceiling in a daze. His breath rattles in his chest with every shaky exhale.

From somewhere in the dark, his phone chimes. Dazai groans again, hands fumbling across the cold metal, through the ratty fabric of his blanket. His fingers finally close around the damned thing. When he flips it open, the harsh light from the screen angers whatever ache is rattling around in his skull. 

It’s just a message from you. Dazai flips his phone closed and tosses it back into the dark.

He coughs again, wet and sticky. Laying on his back like this feels like he’s drowning in whatever gunk had filled his chest overnight. It’s not as painless as a death as he’d hope for. Another twinge of pain in his chest and Dazai’s body reacts on its own. He finds himself propped up on his elbows as he coughs violently, gasping for air between each wheeze. He spits up a wad of phlegm and makes a face at the disgusting taste that lingers on the back of his tongue.

The coughs eventually quiet down. Dazai lays there panting for a moment, trying to catch his breath. His phone chimes again somewhere— probably another message from you, urging him to crawl out of his tin grave just a little bit faster. He spits once more and hauls his heavy body to its feet.

Getting dressed is a pain. Dazai’s usual brand of gauze bandages is now irritating his sensitive skin as he drags his shirt over his shoulders. His delicate fingers fumble with his belt and tie even though he can normally fasten them blind. He has to stop every few moments to catch his breath again.

He can ignore that. He’s got a meeting to get to.

When he pushes open the door of the shipping container he calls a home, it screeches, in the same way he does when touched without permission. The route to headquarters is, of course, memorized— they all are, actually, whether by foot or car or in potential flood. Dazai doesn’t even have to think about it as he walks. Which is good, because Dazai isn’t thinking much at all right now.

Today is too bright. Dazai grimaces as the sun reignites the ache behind his eyes, his vision blurring in the washed-out daylight of Yokohama. The heat goes unnoticed and does nothing for Dazai’s wet cough.

While he may deny the concept of sickness— sometimes his body just doesn’t work right, what else would you expect from a broken toy?— Dazai has spent enough time in Mori’s care to know that this is a punishable offense. He’s whining about a headache, really? Coughing while the boss has something important to say? Can’t have that. Dazai isn’t too sure how Mori would punish this string of personal failures, but even thinking about it feels like ice water dripping down his spine. Or maybe that’s the fever.

For the first time in months, Dazai’s path diverges from the map in his head.

His body turns to the right. Glass doors whoosh open, a soft bell chimes overhead, the teenager behind the counter offers a hesitant greeting. Dazai ignores all of it, blinking against the harsh fluorescence of the convenience store.

The lights buzz at the same frequency as whatever’s vibrating in his skull.

Allergy medication is lined up in a row on the back shelves. Beneath that, cold medicine. Dazai isn’t entirely sure of the difference.

The main thing Dazai does know is that he’s not actually allowed to have pills. He can take them, when they’re given by Mori, and only under strict supervision. But he’s not allowed to have them himself. Bit of an absurd rule, honestly— if he was determined enough for a way out of everything, he could always just step into traffic.

Dazai doesn’t like pain or suffering, and right now he’s definitely suffering. Another cough hitches in his chest and almost has him hacking up gunk all over the shelves— but drawing attention in public is a nightmare scenario for his paranoia, so Dazai finds him gritting his teeth to swallow back whatever slime is crawling its way up his throat.

It sits heavy in his stomach and makes him nauseous.

Every bottle on the shelves looks the same to him, so Dazai just snatches one and shoves it into a coat pocket. The pills rattle against the plastic with every step. He doesn’t break stride as he passes the baffled employee at the counter.

Once he’s back outside and around a corner, Dazai pulls the bottle from his pocket and examines the label. He’d snatched them on a calculated impulse, driven by the grossness in his chest— but if he’s caught with them, he’ll be in just as much trouble as if he’d simply shown up sick, if not more.

Not that he’s sick.

The office building is within sight now, so Dazai only has a moment to make a decision. Can’t be caught with contraband if you’ve swallowed it all.

After a brief battle with the child safety lid he’s able to dump a small mound of the pills into the palm of his hand. He stares at them for a brief moment before tossing his head back and swallowing them dry.

Immediately his lungs catch; he coughs and gags, some of the half-swallowed pills coming right back up his sore throat and almost out his mouth. He gags again at the bitter taste of the dissolving capsules— burnt plastic settling and numbing his tongue— but forces himself to finish swallowing. They’ve gotta be gone before he reaches the office.

Winded and wheezing, he stops to lean against the corner of the office building. Even though he’s wearing a coat and standing in direct sunlight, he shudders, a chill settled into his empty bones. If he can just give the meds a moment to kick in—

Obviously the universe has other plans. From his pocket, his phone rings and startles him out of his daze; when he glances at the caller ID, it’s just you again. Dazai sends the call to voicemail.

Thankfully, nobody ever pays attention when Dazai arrives at the office; he’s able to scramble into the elevator without having to greet anyone in his croaky voice. He brings the sleeve of his oversized coat up to cover his mouth, not entirely sure if he’s stifling a cough or a wave of nausea. When the elevator lurches, so does his stomach; Dazai stumbles against the glass with a soft whine. Usually the sight of the world growing smaller would set off his vertigo, but at the moment he’s having trouble even keeping his eyes open, so whatever’s on the other side of his eyelids doesn’t quite matter.

The elevator dings to signal he’s reached the top floor. The doors slide open and, once he’s stepped out into the hallway, Dazai has to take a moment to wheeze. He coughs into his sleeve again, gross and wet, weighed down by the flood in his ribs. It’s just a corporate hallway, but standing here ill has anxiety prickling up his spine; anyone could walk by at any moment, there’s nowhere for him to hide, and he’ll be reported for being a broken toy. How long will it take for the pills to kick in—?

“Dazai?”

Not Mori’s voice, but Dazai freezes anyways. He hadn’t wanted to see you either— but anything is better than interacting with Mori. He wipes his mouth and turns to face you.

Your hand latches onto the collar of his dress shirt and you begin to drag him along behind you. “Took you long enough!” You huff and give a particularly hard yank, one that has Dazai stumbling. “Ignoring my calls— you’re lucky I got him to wait a few more minutes—”

Late? Was Dazai late? That doesn’t sound right in his head; he always knows what time it is. Before he can catch his voice or momentum, you’ve dragged him through the intimidating doors at the end of the hall and come to a stop in front of Mori’s desk. When your hand disentangles from his shirt, Dazai is vaguely bemused at the loss of warmth.

“We’re here, boss.”

Mori glances up from the paperwork strewn across his desk. His facial expression is carefully neutral— but even that’s enough to quietly activate Dazai’s fight or flight, and he can feel his pulse pick up under the doctor’s scrutiny. It flutters uncomfortably in the spot just beneath his ribs, even though Dazai’s pretty sure that’s not where his heart is supposed to be. He’s sure it’ll escape its cage someday.

“Kind of you to finally join us, Dazai,” Mori leans back in his chair to examine you both. He stares at the two of you in the same way you’ve seen him eye his autopsy tools. “I expect there will be no further interruptions to the schedule?”

Dazai’s traitor of a voice sticks in his throat. Unwilling to give himself away that easily— although he’s sure he’s blatantly labeled, like a game of Operation— he just keeps his eyes on the ground and shakes his head. Thankfully Mori has more important things to do beyond staring at his toy until it combusts.

“I’ll need the two of you to—”

Usually Dazai pays strict attention to the mission briefings. Especially if he’s paired with you or Chuuya, because he knows neither of you are as worried as he is about being dissected. Sure, he’ll mouth off— he’ll argue— he’ll poke holes in Mori’s thoughts until the man seems ready to flay him alive. But today, even his typical smarmy behavior is too much effort for his fuzzy head. Every word out of Mori’s mouth sounds like it’s drifting through water to reach Dazai’s ears. All his effort goes towards acting normal— a tall order, for a thing like Dazai. Breathe in, breathe out, on a regular rhythm, not fast enough to draw attention; when a cough sticks in his throat again, his breathing gets shallow instead, and he’s not sure how long he can fake it.

His attention wanders. Looking at Mori is always difficult, so Dazai busies himself with examining his polished shoes, the softness of your hair, the clouds drifting by outside the window—

Papers shuffle. Your hand tugs at Dazai’s coat sleeve. He slowly drifts back into the moment; the meeting is over. He hadn’t heard a damned word.

The walk down the hallway feels off. You’d made this same trek with Dazai just last week, and he’d been energetic, playful, doing his best to drive you up the walls. Today, though, he’s padding along quietly behind you. That’s more suspicious than anything else you’ve ever seen him do.

“—so, your opinion?” Any easy question to start with, although you’re willing to push his buttons if it means gauging how he feels.

Dazai knows he can’t ignore you outright, but he also knows you’re not stupid enough to overlook the rasp to his voice. He just hums in response as if he’s thinking of an answer. The sound comes out smoothly enough that it startles him— maybe the meds have actually kicked in. Makes him wonder why his head is still fuzzy around the edges, though.

“It’s an easy mission,” Dazai tests his voice carefully, “even someone like you should be able to figure it out.”

“I know it’s easy,” you shoulder open a glass door, finally leading the both of you back outside into the sunlight. Dazai blinks rapidly as he tries to adjust. “That’s why I’m asking your opinion— where should we start?”

Damn. Dazai’s head had been so floaty, he’d paid no attention to the briefing. He’d been hoping you would accidentally give him a hint, but you’re just watching his face intently, so he has to keep it neutral.

It didn't work— apparently he’d taken just a second too long to think, because you’re reaching out, your hand working its way under his bangs to feel at his forehead. Dazai leans into the touch without thinking about it.

“You’re hot.”

“I know.” A smile twitches across his tired face and you scoff.

“Are you sure you’re okay enough for recon?”

There’s the hint he’d been hoping for. Dazai pulls himself back from your touch and sniffles. “I can walk,” he says defiantly.

Not the question you asked.

Before you can suggest that he— God forbid— take the day off, Dazai escapes your grasp entirely. He wobbles on his feet and preemptively shoots a glare in your direction, daring you to say anything. His unbandaged eye is glassy.

Dazai is a flight risk. Mori is expecting you both to work on this mission together, even though it really is simple. It’s better not to push your temporary partner too hard right now.

Recon and surveillance are always easy, especially when you’re paired with Dazai. Normally he’s lightyears ahead of you, locations memorized in an instant. Today, he’s quiet— too quiet, and you have to keep glancing over your shoulder to make sure he hasn’t vanished into the crowd.

Dazai is hyper aware of your eyes on him the entire walk. Being watched always makes his skin crawl, even when he knows you couldn’t catch him if he was determined to get away, but he’s too tired to be mean at the moment so he doesn’t say anything.

You’ve never really been the one leading surveillance missions, but Dazai is clearly lost in his own world. When you stop to make note of a fire escape, he stumbles into you and flinches back like it burns; when you ask him about one building’s rooftop, he doesn’t even make a comment about jumping.

Wandering behind you, Dazai’s head still feels like it’s somewhere far off from the rest of his body. Is medication supposed to make you feel like this? He’d felt fine for all of ten minutes after taking the pills, but they must be wearing off, because his chest feels tight again, and more vague pain is beginning to pulse in his bones. The world is starting to twist at the edge of his vision— it’s all Dazai can do to keep his gaze focused on your back as he pushes forward.

Maybe he should take a few more.

It would be a major risk to pull the pills out in front of you— well, behind your back, but you could turn around at any moment. Dazai’s delicate fingers deftly untwist the cap in his coat pocket. The stupid gel capsules tumble free like escaped marbles. He makes a face as they shift around in his pocket, but when your head is turned, he pops another handful into his mouth.

Eugh, the burnt plastic taste on the back of his tongue—

“Maybe we should get a taller view,” your voice almost sounds like it’s underwater. Dazai shakes his head to drain his ears, and that sets the world spinning around him.

“What, you don’t wanna?” Hands in your jacket pockets, you nudge Dazai with your shoulder, and he sways on his feet. “If you’ve already perfected our strategies, you should tell me— I’m gonna start slackin’ off.”

Slacking off. That sounds really nice right about now. Absently, one of Dazais hands comes up to press against the ache in his sternum, massaging with the sharpness of his knuckles. Dazai never does anything softly.

He can feel his heart cracking against his ribs. An uncomfortable feeling that he figures he deserves.

“—Dazai?”

He blinks, big doe eyes slowly tracking over to you, silhouetted against the Yokohama sun. A concerned frown crosses your face. He still hasn’t responded to you, and the look in his eyes is hazy. “Hey, let’s go take a break somewhere. I’m tired.”

It’s easier to lie about your own condition than it is to get Osamu Dazai to be honest about himself.

Dazai nods blankly, meaning he can at least hear your voice. You nudge him forward again; his steps are shaky and, combined with his big brown eyes and dusting of freckles, he looks exactly like a lost baby deer. 

You know that, deep down, Dazai must be some form of anxious. Anyone can tell that he’s feeling unwell just by looking at him, and he hates being forced into such a vulnerable position. Gently, you push and prod until you’ve managed to get him into an alleyway, nice and dark, a place to rest out of view. The Port Mafia knows the backstreets better than anyone in this city.

Every step for Dazai feels like wading through quicksand— or at least the way he’d imagined quicksand would feel, when he was thinking about ways to die. His muscles burn in protest. His eyelids feel gritty as they slide closed; knowing he can’t fall asleep here, he slouches his lanky body against you.

“Let’s go back,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You hum quietly in agreement. Dazai is never this open to touch, and you don’t want to scare him away in such a rare moment where he openly relies on you. It seems the same thoughts cross his hazy mind all at once.

Dazai shoves you away with an impulse that surprises you both.

“What the hell—?!” You’re able to catch yourself without much effort. Your obstinate boss isn’t quite as lucky.

Dazai tumbles into a nearby brick wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him. That doesn’t stop his lungs from constricting as he gasps for air, face twisted in the panic that accompanies an inability to breathe.

His vision darkens at the edges. The impact had also knocked the fucking pill bottle out of his pocket. You’re staring at the label. You’ve seen it. He’s not supposed to have pills. You’ve seen it. His chest heaves.

“Dazai, hey, you need to breathe—”

When your hands come up, Dazai flinches back again. His head slams against the brick. The sting barely registers— even as your hand cups the back of his head, even as you wince at the thin coating of blood on your fingers, all Dazai can see are the brightly-colored pills scattered across the sidewalk. Adrenaline floods his frail body until his limbs go cold. His traitorous body decides that now is the time to expel his lungs.

The coughing fit has him doubled over, hacking so hard that he gags, spitting up more gunk and saliva.

When you inevitably reach out to him again, Dazai wrestles his way out of your grasp, pointedly pressing his face against the rough brick in a desperate bid to avoid your scrutiny. He doesn’t have to look— he can feel your eyes on him through the shield of Mori’s coat. It prickles along his feverish skin and reduces him to feeling positively miniscule. Heat crawls up his neck as nausea begins to bubble in his stomach.

Dazai is exhausted all at once. Usually he can ignore his body’s limits, but that’s not an option now; you know that he’s taken medication, so he needs to get out of here, spin a lie to Mori before you have the chance to tell the truth. He shoves himself away from the wall as if the burst of strength will get him back to the familiar glass doors.

It doesn’t help at all. Dazai tilts forward, eyes sliding closed as the concrete rushes up to meet him.

I've been working on this thing for about two months and finally decided that splitting it into chapters would work better than making it as long as it was getting, so! part two up. eventually lmao. thank you for reading!

[doctorwhoisadhd]

what are your thomas england thoughts? like what do u think thomas was like b4 they died

ok so thomas england is DEFINITELY one of the players who i imagine as part of the Prehistory Fridays Gang. so first he was around for everything in prehistory (along with fletcher berger, sebastian diaz and his partner, erickson hendricks, rhonda elliott, our lady of perpetual friday, fenry marlow and their dog homer, fitzgerald massey, jessi wise, and mrs silk who was then miss silk. and then also baby york and his dad parker, who was dating miss silk. obv not all of these people were necessarily fridays players at the time though maybe they worked behind the scenes). so THAT was a whole thing.

honestly part of the problem of being LITERALLY retconned out of the game is nobody remembers you anymore. thomas england was only around long enough to get joke lore, we were only really just starting to flesh out relationships between the players when he got incinerated, and he didnt get any of that. and what adds to this problem is, well in the fridays style of lore, we dont necessarily think about what a player does outside of blaseball, or at least we DEFINITELY didnt early on (and didnt get ANY new entirely unlored players until relatively late af in the game — so like, after sixpack on s4d86 our next two were fenry and yass statter jr in the s13 and s19 elections respectively). so as a result there isnt any kind of a precedent to fall back on for what i think about what he did?

but here's what i DO know;

i disagree with the wiki on this one: neither of his parents are from the UK (there is no way). i like to think like, at least one of his parents is native, and hes lived there his entire life

his legal name is thomas england + thats whats on all his blaseball stuff, but typically with other islanders he'd use pelekane (which is what some of the last few members of the hawaiian royal family called england in ʻolelo hawaiʻi). so its like, his career name is thomas england

hes transmasc B) also ADHD

he played first base

he loves doctor who, and not just because its from the UK. like, hes seen the TV movie and at least one of the peter cushing movies and most of classic who, listened to a whole bunch of audios, reads the comics and the novels and like every EDA, has a subscription to dwmag, his bar for media quality is on the fucking GROUND so its literally all good he just loves dr who so much. he also probably has a cosplay of literally every doctor (including the shalka doctor and like the curse of fatal death ones too)

despite this he DOES. NOT. know ANYTHING about UK culture. he is constantly having amelia bedelia type misunderstandings of what things are. (ex: beans on toast = toast, peanut butter, jelly beans / "the tube" = "big pneumatic tube like the one for salmon, except people sized" / thinks john lennon's name was actually "john lemon")

he cant tell a single british accent apart he just identifies all of it as "british accent". fitz massey is from australia and is completely unaware that he thinks they are british. it is extremely lucky that he has never met anyone from ireland because they would probably strangle him. (weirdly though: despite him identifying approximately 50% of kiwis as british seemingly completely at random (absolutely no common criteria has been found at all. not looks not age not location nothing), he identifies 100% of scottish accents as "aotearoan")

he plays ʻukulele! maybe he worked at a ʻukulele store for a time at some point, even if it was like a summer job during high school... i like to think he's what got heat into playing :')

obsessed with choose your own adventure stories. he loves them.

(fridays angst train incoming) so york grew up with the whole Prehistory Fridays Gang as his family, and when york was really really little he couldnt say "thomas" (or england or pelekane, for that matter) but would ask him if they could play "docka who" all the time, so eventually what stuck for thomas england was he became york's "uncle who"

[inscrutable-shadow]

Mediwhump May Day 5 - No Response

@mediwhumpmay

Later than I had anticipated, but at long last, it is complete, haha. James belongs to @rizzamacka-whump! I guess the Back-Alley AU is canonically in a really hot place now? Or maybe it's global warming, who knows.

“Thank you again for being willing to help,” the Doctor called down into the space under the clinic. “Oh, it’s no trouble!” the young man underneath called back, breathing slightly laboured but cheery as ever. They really were grateful for his assistance. They’d thought they’d have to close the clinic entirely today, owing to the sweltering heat making the inside intolerable with the air conditioning unit on the fritz again. Colonel Zhang, or James, as he had insisted upon being called, had noticed them dejectedly fanning themselves on the front step and asked what he could do. They were fairly confident that he saw them as a helpless old woman, which was not an illusion they would attempt to dispel, especially not before he’d finished down there. 

This heat wave was the worst in several years. The clinic, which was older than the Doctor and had already been run down when they had acquired it, had ancient utilities that just couldn’t take the strain. Apparently, the cooling unit’s main body was in the crawl space underneath the building, which hadn’t been constructed to code (or had warped to an incredible degree) and would be quite difficult for the six-foot-tall Doctor to manoeuvre around (if they were so inclined to get their hands dirty, which they were not). James, however, was much smaller and seemed to have no issues making his way to the problem area.

They were perfectly content to await his return with iced coffee and the frozen fruit cubes they had spent the morning making in lieu of treating patients. The Doctor’s Nordic blood wasn’t built for the heat, unlike the man downstairs whose complexion indicated he hailed from the tropics. Quite lucky that he’d come along, even if it meant they had to do more of a social interaction than they really would have liked at this temperature. Speaking of social interaction, they had heard nothing from him for a few minutes, actually. “Colonel Zhang? Er, James? How is it going down there?” There was no response other than the creaking of the building as the siding expanded in the heat. “James? Are you all right?” Nothing. Had something happened to him? Oh, blast it all. They’d have to go down after him.

They shed their lab coat, having already exchanged their typical black turtleneck for a sleeveless tank in the same colour. They would have to army crawl through the narrow space, something they hoped never to have had to do, but they wouldn’t leave a patient to die under the clinic. Especially in this heat, corpses smell. The air was thick and sweat bloomed on their skin in uncomfortable places, but they didn’t have to go as far as they’d thought they would before finding the young colonel lying motionless in front of the electrical box. “James? Can you hear me?” Nothing. Heat stress, most likely. With luck, he’d only fainted for a moment, but it was possible it was more serious. They pushed their glasses up onto their nose, trying to see how far along he’d got before succumbing to the heat. Was it really just this last switch that needed to be flipped? He’d done a rather good job…

With the aircon humming again, they carefully dragged the unconscious man back toward the opening to the clinic. It was fortunate that they had prepared a large quantity of medical-grade ice in anticipation of needing to treat things like this (and also to keep themselves cool). It would make it much easier to get his body temperature down quickly rather than having to wait for things to chill and for the air to cool. They heaved his body up onto the exam table (he was lighter than they’d anticipated) and set to work.

Chilled intravenous fluids were the way to go. The medical freezer had those ready to go as well, and they hung the bag while sorting through the next steps they’d need to take. Ice packs to the areas with large amounts of blood vessels: the armpits, groin, back, and neck. Then there was nothing left to do but monitor his temperature and suppress the shivering if he started before his body temperature dropped enough. They wobbled as they moved to sit down, realising suddenly that they must also be dehydrated. Time for an iced coffee. Perhaps next time they would attempt to use crushed ice like they did in coffeeshops. They didn’t really understand what a “frappucino” was, but people seemed to enjoy them. Just as they had this thought and reached the bottom of the glass, the patient woke with a gasp and a “so cold…” “Ah, there you are. You fell unconscious right before completing your work. How are you feeling?”

He attempted to push himself up on his elbows. “C-cold… sorry, I can… f-finish…” Really. The boy had almost died, and he was thinking about the air conditioning.

They pressed him back down. “You shall do nothing of the sort. The machine is running now, regardless. Rest until you have been properly hydrated, yes?” James nodded and allowed them to remove the ice packs. The Doctor handed him a safety cup of lemonade and a hand fan, and went to go sit back down. If this heat wave continued, this wouldn’t be the last time they had to do this treatment. taglist: @i-eat-worlds

[redbirb]

kiri got cake (bakugo birthday special)

Fandom: BNHA | MHA Pairing: BKKR | Bakugo/Kirishima Rated T: SFW w/ undertones of intimacy, Bakusquad Shenanigans / Supportive Bakusquad

-

Eijiro knew his boyfriend didn’t like big parties.

What his boyfriend did like was attention and cake. Ei could give attention tenfold, but baking was a different kind of beast to tame.

“This is a disaster,” he bemoaned. Maybe enlisting his friends for help was a bad idea.

“We can salvage this,” Denki remained positive as he attempted to glue the cake back together with frosting like a deranged dessert doctor.

Mina sighed, taking a selfie and typing sadly on her phone. “Hashtag baking failures with the besties.”

Eijiro groans again, face in his hands. He’s pretty sure there is chocolate in his hair and he’s sitting on a mixing spoon. The kitchen is a war zone of burnt chocolate and fondant.

“Well, since the Battle of Rainbow Sprinkles is done, maybe we should finally call Sato,” suggested Sero.

“It’s too late for that! Katsuki is gonna be home any minute now—”

The sound of the front door opening and closing sealed their doom. Jingling keys and boot stomps got closer until a blonde and tall figure stood in the kitchen entryway. Katsuki looked around in that typical unimpressed fashion of his, noting the mess they’d created.

“What the flying fuck were you four idiots trying to do?”

Denki raised his hands in a ‘don’t hurt me’ gesture. “Uh, making you a birthday cake?”

Eijiro didn’t pick his head up from his hands, he didn’t want to see the disappointment and annoyance on his boyfriend’s face. Silence often predated an outburst.

A harsh bark of laughter startled him, looking up to see Katsuki doubled over, hands on his knees and cackling of all things.

“Oh my god, I think we broke him. We broke your boyfriend on his birthday. Ei baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, Pinky,” Katsuki wheezed, straightening up with a hand on his belly. “You’re all fucking ridiculous and lucky I’m in a good fucking mood.”

Denki fake gasped, hand clutched over his heart. “Call the local news station because the great hero Dynamight is actually not mad? Why do I feel like I’m going to get hit either way.”

A clearing throat,” You’ll get my fist if you don’t leave with Stooge One and Two. As funny as this is, Ei and I have some cleaning up to do.”

Sero’s eyes widened. “Oh dude, we’ll help! We did like… eighty percent of this anyway.”

Hitching a thumb over his shoulder, Katsuki repeated his order. Eijiro glumly watched his friends wave a sad goodbye, leaving him to deal with the aftermath alone. He was half-surprised his friends got away freely, but was ready to take whatever punishment he’d earned for the disastrous state of the kitchen.

After hearing the front door closing again, Katsuki leveled him with a scorching stare. Goosebumps pebbled along his arms, a familiar heat bubbling.

“I’m sorry,” he hurriedly says,” I thought I could do it, I just couldn’t get the batter right at first—”

He was interrupted when Katsuki stepped close and slowly reached into a red mane of hair. “Is that a chocolate chip in your hair? You really are hopeless in the kitchen, huh?”

Ei pouted and threw up his arms, exasperated. “I wanted to make you a special birthday cake!”

A snort, fingers carefully getting as much dessert debris from red hair as could be managed without the use of hot water or a shower. “I don’t need a special birthday cake. I already have a special someone.”

Heart swelling, Eijiro lost his pout to a smile. “I want you to feel special. I really love you.”

Katsuki clucked his tongue, but his lips were smiling too, even if he looked a little embarrassed and shy at the declaration. “I love you too. But you didn’t need to make a fucking mess.”

Although the baking was a failure, cleaning up was still a little fun. They took a break to eat some leftover chocolate chips, turned on the radio to hum together as Eijiro swept the floor and Katsuki wiped the counter. It’s their brand of quiet and comfortable, that sweet kind of domesticity that Eijiro has come to love so dearly.

As they’re finishing up the dishes, Katsuki reaches over to place the last plate in the dishwasher. It’s the perfect vantage point for Eijiro to swoop in, lips pressing firmly against an unprotected cheek. The kiss is quick yet meaningful, he’d poured as much affection into it as he could.

“Even after all these years, you still manage to surprise me, Ei.” Katsuki looks at him fondly. “I know you wanted to do something nice, but I like this, I like having you.”

A sappy comeback couldn’t make it out of Eijiro’s mouth since a strong hand pushed him to turn around. That same hand moves quickly, a yelp resulting from a hard slap to his ass. Katsuki’s lips are at his ear,” Now get my cake to the bedroom. I have four hours before the day ends.”

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

@moondust-bard And the first world building questions are in!

One thing to note is that in New Royston, you can gain or lose size, just like you can gain or lose money! Married people share finances, so a legally-married couple will be at the same size. Reproduction is a problem for unmarried couples, but that’s kind of on purpose; thanks, Puritan heritage!

But we’re not out of the woods yet! Human reproduction relies a lot on temperature, and in New Royston, people struggle with body heat. As something increases in size, its volume increases more than its surface area, so bigger people generate more body heat with less area to give it off and smaller people generate less body heat and give it off more easily. Thus, at the polar ends of the size spectrum, it becomes more difficult to conceive, leading to a lot of families with no children or only one child.

As for the buildings, groceries, clothes, and other practical necessities, the town is segregated into groups called ‘brackets’. Any particular location will serve a range of brackets and advertise it on the door. This ranges from places like Town Hall and the high school, which serve all brackets and load up with supplies to accommodate all of them, to things like shops and doctors’ offices that will only serve, say, brackets three through five, or only bracket one, depending on how far they’re willing and able to reach. While there’s nothing stopping anyone from entering any place, you’ll be very unwelcome somewhere that doesn’t serve your bracket.

People in bracket three, the closest to normal size, can typically get away with using mass produced products from outside of town, but for all the others, the Distribution Center exists. It handles all of New Royston’s imports and exports, measuring out specific quantities and re-pricing them for the convenience of New Royston’s populace. For things like clothes and tools, they’ll typically supply the raw materials, like textiles and metals, to bracket-specific tradesmen.

If you’re thinking ‘wow, this sounds tedious, unfair, and completely unnecessary’, yes! It is! In fact, there’s a character who points this out: Cricket’s bracket-one friend, Eneas. Eneas has fought for a lot of the high school’s accommodations and he tends to go out of his way to buy things from larger stores; why get an ounce of food for $5 at the bracket-one grocery store when they’re selling a pound of it at the bracket-three grocery store for the same price?! Because you’re unwelcome at the higher-bracket store, and they’ll definitely let you know, but Eneas knows how to fight to get what he wants.

I could go on and on, but I think I got a pretty good summary here. All-in-all, it’s an exercise in inconvenience and providing the bare minimum for accessibility, and that’s the least of the problems our main characters see with the curse.

[casspurrjoybell-19]

CLAIMED - Chapter 21

*Warning: Adult Content*     

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Beta Jaxson Ortiz deadpanned in his typical, sarcastic tone, crossing his arms in an effort to make his typically spastic exterior look a little bit more serious. "Alright cotton candy, can you cut the crap and tell me the truth this time?"

The Crescent Moon Pack Doctor Benji's expression conveyed that he was searching for words before he finally replied.

"Jax... It is not a joke. It must have been some sort of genetic mutation en uter..."

A loud, uncontrollable guffaw broke through the air before Jaxson could stop it and he had to physically clutch his stomach in order to force his abdominal muscles to keep him upright as he doubled over.

"Alright, alright, seriously, you can stop it now. I already figured you guys out," he forced out between breaths of laughter. "That little yellow haired alien is finally getting me back for calling him a mutant. Damn, I thought the only undercover smart person was Tyrus but I gotta admit, that lil' yellow dwarf did pretty good with this one," he finished, chuckling a few more times and shaking his head at the ground before he was finally able to slowly pull himself upright.

What he expected to see when he looked back up was Dr Benji smiling at him, some laughter and maybe even the tiniest bit of frustration in his eyes due to the fact that Jaxson had figured out his little ruse. 

But what the Beta saw instead made his heart drop into his God-damn stomach.

Dr Benji held out a piece of paper, bent in the middle like it had been folded up and shoved in someone's back pocket for a few hours. 

At the top was a big, black logo that read 'Gene Corp.' and underneath was Jaxson’s name along with a shit ton of tiny lettering which the Beta’s brain didn't even attempt to comprehend.

Couldn't comprehend.

Because it was stuck on one spot.

Results: ABNORMAL SECONDARY GENDER. Beta / Omega Dominant.

A heavy breath escaped Jaxson’s chest in shaky pumps as he tried to find a way to reason through this. 

‘No man. No way. This could not be happening.’

"O-okay, I-I'm serious now... Stop it. This i-isn't funny, Benji." 

Jaxson’s body recoiled and he stumbled a few steps backward with a humorless laugh and an accusatory finger pointed at the half-Fae. 

His limbic system was reacting to that stupid-ass piece of paper as if it were tainted by a deadly virus.

"Jax... Listen, I..."

"I SAID STOP IT. SHUT UP." Jaxson screamed out, stumbling back about one foot further. 

The final, unexpected sensation of his back hitting the firm wall of Corey's chest finally triggered the avalanche.

'You dumb, worthless, little shit. You will never be half the Beta I am.'

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP..."

His head was an egg in a microwave, heated up entirely too fast and threatening to burst at any second as it was flooded with every single emotion known to man in an earth-shattering second. 

He didn't know who he was yelling at or even why but his skull was thundering with everything, everywhere, all at once and he was completely powerless to it’s control.

The room warped around his periphery, turning a mottled black as the pain in his skull increased. 

It was only when trembling hands came down to reveal a handful of crumpled hair strands that he realized what he had been doing, pulling it out at the root.

'If you submit to something as powerless as a damn kitten, you will never amount to anything more than a fucking Omega.'

It couldn't be true.

'I do not allow Omegas in my family. Kill it.'"

“I can't... I can't breathe. I can't breathe," Jaxson rasped, backing up in the opposite direction of the rest of the people in the room. 

People who he was barely aware of but knew he had to get away from. 

He had to get away from them before they could hurt him.

He had to get out of this room. 

It was too large, too small, too familiar, too foreign. 

Everything was wrong.

He had to get out.

He had to get out.

Sprinting at full speed down the hallway did nothing to help my hyper-oxygenated state, lungs burning up inside his rib cage as they struggled to stretch to the capacity of which he demanded.

His entire body slammed against his bedroom door with a thud, momentarily forgetting the very basics of daily life like doorknobs as he focused every single brain cell on just getting inside, to the place where he could breathe.

The place where he would be safe.

His clammy palms slipped a few times in his attempt to open the door, his tachypnoeic breaths like sonic booms as they bounced off of the heavy, wooden barrier that blocked his only path to freedom.

In a flash he was inside, the door slamming shut behind me as he ran to his bed.

“Need it.”

He could only think the most basic of thoughts as he yanked blanket after blanket off of his bed, gathering them into his arms until he could carry no more. 

Once there were finally enough, his head whipped around to find the right place for them.

‘Safe.’

In less than a blink he scurried underneath his desk, packing blankets around him in the tight space like they could hide him from the world or better yet, hide him from himself.

The blankets were sedating as they weighed him down, hugging his body in a way that he never had the opportunity to experience from anyone else growing up. 

However, the scent that clung to them was what really did the trick, gradually working the tension out of his shoulders as he rocked back and forth in the tight grip of his own embrace.

But it wasn't enough. 

It would never be enough.

The creaky sound of his door opening reversed all semblance of progress, an uncharacteristic whimper released from somewhere deep inside of him as his Wolf, Luka reared his head. 

The wall behind Jaxson was hard and painful against his spine as he pressed into it, hands scraping against the floor in a fruitless attempt to push himself further back into a space that just wasn't there.

He wasn't ready.

But before he could scream at him to get out, he was already there.

"Stop it, leave me alone," Jaxson croaked from ragged vocal cords, whatever part of them that were still intact struggling to work properly after a lifetime of overuse.

 His Mate was silent and completely unreactive to Jaxson’s outburst as Corey contorted his bulky form, making himself as small as possible so that he could fit his upper body into the space that the Beta occupied.

"I can't, I can't... Don't TOUCH ME," Jaxson screamed once more, the sound more akin to a broken whisper in a last desperate attempt to push Corey away.

‘He couldn't see me. Not now. Not like this.’

"Jax, you are hurting yourself. Let me help. Please Sweetheart."

Strong, calloused palms encircled Jaxson’s wrists and pulled them away from the Beta, thick fingers gently working out the tight knot of a fist that he had unconsciously tangled his own into. 

Jaxson’s freckled hands looked unfamiliar, as if he were not in his own body as his Mate lowered them to rest on the top of his drawn-up knees. 

They trembled uncontrollably as Corey held them in a secure grip, strands of Jaxson’s own, dark curls once again tangled up in between the gaps.

"Corey..." Jaxson croaked once more, his Wolf, Luka crying out for comfort as the Beta stared down at the little strands of failure between his fingers. 

Among all of the pandemonium going on between his temples, he couldn't seem to remember... he couldn't recall anything that Corey had taught him about how to emotionally regulate and calm himself down. 

"I can't breathe. Please, it - it won't stop. I don't know what to do. Help."

Jaxson was immediately taken, along with a few of his emotional support blankets, into Corey’s arms, a therapeutic pressure surrounded the Beta at all sides and his bristled, hypersensitive nerves immediately relaxed in his Warrior Mate’s protective but gentle hold. 

One arm went out to wrap around the thick base of Corey's neck as if he were an anchor and Jaxson a ship, the other still held in his Mate’s grip as he pressed it flat against his chest.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know it hurts," Corey’s voice was ever so deep as always but this time the vibrations ricocheted through Jaxson as well, generating a pacifying warmth that prompted the smaller man to snuggle even closer. 

He tucked his face into Corey’s throat and pressed in, desperate for more of him, 

"If you can find it in you to trust in anything right now, know that you can trust me. Breathe with me, my Gift."

Closing his eyes and focusing on the task of synchronizing his breathing with that of his soulmate, Jaxson’s mind slowly began to slow down.

'Gift... Where do I remember that from?' 

Jaxson frowns against Corey's skin, the word familiar to his ears but still dangling off of the very tip of his brain.

And then, it clicked.

'Jax, you are the gift that I have prayed for every night since the day that I learned what prayer was.'

Yet another involuntary whine bubbled up from Jaxson’s sore throat at the memory, his arms tightening around the neck of the man before him so tightly that he sent up a quick prayer to the Goddess that he would not burst.

“Why..." Jaxson trailed off once he'd finally gotten his breathing to a manageable level, unable to figure out exactly how to articulate myself. 

"Why do you keep coming back when I always end up like this?" he finally whispered. 

Jaxson’s voice was barely audible but with the combination of Corey’s extensive Warrior Training and observant character traits, the Beta was sure that his Mate heard every single syllable.

Corey’s grip shifted slightly at Jaxson’s words, one hand coming up to drag a line up and down his Mate’s arched spine and the other coming up to rest against the back of his head. 

The Head Warrior’s arms were a nest of comfort, his fresh smell overwhelming  willing sinuses as he gently rubbed his cheek against the Beta’s hair to scent him like other Mates would often do to their Omegas.

"You could never, never, drive me away from you, Jax, " Corey began, an emotional strain in his bass voice that Jaxson could not accurately place in his current state of emotional wreckage. "I don't always know what to say and sometimes I wonder if I am doing you more harm than good. There is no wound for me to lick shut, no one for me to fight off, no way to physically protect you against whatever it is that is hurting you." 

Jaxson felt Corey turn his neck to press a firm, lingering kiss to his temple.

"But one thing I can do is stay. You will never be alone, I won't allow it." 

There was a low, rumbling growl in Corey’s last few words and Jaxson felt his Mate’s arms twitch as he likely fought against the instinct to tighten them even more, to reassure himself that the smaller man was still under his protection.

Holding onto him, onto his mate, felt just as important as his next breath as Jaxson finally allowed himself to slip into the sweetest surrender against the supportive structure of Corey’s body.

The Beta had never been a particularly spiritual person but this gorgeous strong man... his Corey... he made him want to believe in miracles. 

‘What other way was there to explain how someone like me got lucky enough to call him mine?’

It was amazing, bewildering, even, how Corey always seemed to know exactly what Jaxson needed, at the exact moment that he needed it.

No one could ever fix every single crack in the broken parts inside of the Beta, that was his burden to hold. 

But that's not what he really needed from Corey, anyway.

Corey didn't pry, didn't try to erase the pain or solve Jaxson’s problems for him. 

Instead, he loved him and guided him through it with that love. 

He taught Jaxson so many things, things that he was too busy just surviving to even begin to think about on his own.

Like the desire to live for himself, for no other reason than because he was worthy of it.

"Could it really be true, Corey?" Jaxson whispered, fingers gripping handfuls of his Mate’s shirt for something to keep him grounded. "Am I really also an... an Omega?" he whispered the last word like a solemn prayer as it rolled through his disbelieving lips.

"I don't know, baby," Corey whispered back, fingers dragging a trail of sparks down the right side of his spine. 

It felt as if they spoke too loudly within this precious moment, the world would collapse in on itself again. 

"But what I do know is that you are the only one who can decide who you are. Your biological gender will make no difference to anyone that matters."

Jaxson nodded against his neck, taking a moment for his brain to decompress even further in the comfort of the silence between them. 

That seemed to do the trick, finally allowing his brain cells to work somewhat correctly. 

He released a shaky breath of realization at the exact moment that it all clicked.

In that fraction of a second, it all made sense.

'You will never amount to anything more than a fucking Omega.'

"He knew," Jaxson whispered incredulously, more to himself than anything. "He fucking knew."

Corey did not comment on his statement but rather simply continued holding him like a substitute weighted blanket. 

And for that, Jaxson was grateful.

“Corey.”

"Mmm, my love?" the Warrior hummed responsively, the vibration once again shooting sparks to every inch of the Beta’s oversensitive extremities.

"I need you," Jaxson begged, the desire to be pressed into the mattress underneath Corey’s weight overwhelming every synapse of his being. "Please... Dominate me."

[damnitdoctor]

MY gif is used for a leonard mccoy x reader?? BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!

the friendly back-and-forth banter between jim and leonard is fantastic - i love reading about their friendship (because some people forget!)

oh, to have the doting attention of the good doctor, aye? *stares longingly out the window*

"Oh boy, what did you do this time?" Bones asked as he led you to sit on one of the biobeds. "You know those plants I picked up from Lainatha?" You asked "The ones with the purple flowers that smell like a dead body?" He asked as he grabbed his kit.

GAH! he's not only interested in the reader but interested in their line of work!? get you a man who remembers!!

Leonard lightly cradled the back of your hand as he inspected the minor wound. "Damn darlin' those leaves must be mighty sharp to nick you this deep." He murmured.

ONE CHANCE, SIR!!! he's so naturally charismatic - like - literally moments before he's so lost in his thoughts and flustered but he takes one breath and suddenly Southern Charm activates UGHHH

all those little moments where leonard thinks inwardly to himself, either in admiration or self-doubt, is so perfect. you did that extremely well!

the "You...did you just... wink at him?" moment 👏 there is something so awesome about his perspective describing the scene rather then the author's voice, y'know?

"That's just typical," Bones grumbled, grabbing his kit. "I'm always running around, gathering these officers like a cat chasing chickens."

&

"What's your obsession with poisonous and allergy educing plants?" "I wouldn't call it an obsession, a mild concern maybe," Leonard smirked.

if the spirit of leonard mccoy is in this fic, it just spoke to us. you've got his personality down to a T!

a moment of silence, please, for the thorough research that must have been undertaken to write this fic with all the detailed explanations and descriptions of those flowers and of space. you did not hold back on this fic and i appreciate all of your hard work!!

THANK YOU FOR THE NICKNAME "LEN"! i understand it but i've never gotten behind "leo" so this was refreshing to read.

Leonard nearly melted when you called the plant a 'little guy.'

can i hug him? can i hold him, please? can i give him smoochies???

just everything about the two of them talking about this flower, how it's similar to things they both know, and how he's so receptive and attentive... just literal perfection. this is so genuine.

i will NEVER not swoon.

This was ridiculous. He was a grown man for crying out loud! But here he was, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.

I WILL TELL HIM EVERYDAY HOW WONDERFUL HE IS! and once AGAIN you've nailed his personality so well! ugh! it's just so fantastic to read this continuity!

He needed to say something, anything. A simple thank you didn't feel like enough. Nothing about him felt like enough after Jocelyn.

LEONARD NEEDS TO BE PRESCRIBED A HUG! RIGHT NOW!

i love it when therapist spock pops up in a fic. he just senses something's off and springs into action. bless your heart.

[...] "I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist." McCoy frowned.

HE SAID THE THING! SOMEBODY CLIP THAT!

"Can I come in?" Leonard asked with that rough, gravely voice you had always loved so much.

hehehehe yeah..... yeahhhhhh *tucks hair behind ear*

he's so SWEET; getting butterflies or having his heart skip a beat when he thinks about the reader and their mannerisms or the things that show off their personality. he's whipped, your honor!!

"Leonard, please..." You whispered, eyes pleading with him. "Please what, darlin'?" He drawled, bringing his hands to your face. He noticed the heat of your blush in his fingertips, he could feel you quiver, eager for him to close the distance. "Please, just-" His lips were on yours before you could even answer.

i am not mentally stable rn 👍 (trying really hard not to focus on him pushing against the wall hehehahahohohoorhoewahhrajaJJjjsh)

ugh! amazing! i loved this fic so much. thank you for writing for the beautiful southern doctor! i adore him with all my heart and it's so rare to find fics for him. i WILL be going through your blog so do expect to hear from me again!!

sincerely, kara x

Pining

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: Leonard has it bad for you and doesn't know what to do about it. All he knows is that this little crush is getting out of hand.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James "Jim" Kirk, Spock, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov,

Warning(s): Wounds, Cursing, Slight Angst (Don't worry, there's fluff at the end)

"Bones.... Bones.... Bones?...............Bones!"

Leonard snapped back to reality and returned his focus to the conversation he was having...well...supposed to be having.

"Seriously Bones, what's with you lately?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

"What are you going on about?" Bones scoffed.

"I've been trying to discuss this report with you and you're not even remotely paying attention to me."

"I'm paying attention!"

"Really? Cause it looked like you were staring at Lieutenant-Commander Y/L/N." Kirk crossed his arms.

"No I was not," Leonard frowned.

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

"Were t-" Jim was cut off by Uhura turning around in her seat.

"Boys, seriously. You bicker like an old married couple. Some of us actually have work to do." She scolded.

Leonard sighed and shook his head. "Look Jim, I was just spacing out. That's. All."

"Yeah, spacing out while your eyes are burning holes into Y/N's back. Sounds an awful lot like staring." Jim laughed

Leonard's eyes darted over to you as you patted Chekov on the back, said goodbye to him and Sulu, and made your way out of the bridge. When he turned back, he found three pairs of eyes watching him with amusement.

"Oh what now?" Leonard put his hand on his hips. "Seriously, do you all have nothing better to do with your time than speculate on where my attention's at?"

"There is no need to speculate doctor, you have your sights set on Lieutenant-Commander Y/L/N. It is perfectly natural, there is no need for you to feel ashamed," Spock said.

"I'm NOT ashamed! I'm a doctor, not some giddy little schoolboy with a crush," Leonard defended.

"Hey, no one ever said anything about a crush. We just said you have a staring problem," Jim laughed.

Leonard sputtered for some sort of comeback. Some way to deny any validity to the things they were saying. But the truth is that they caught him in a lie. He was staring. Bones had been watching as you talked animatedly to Chekov about an experiment you were doing in the botany labs. Leonard imagined it was him you were talking to, him you were laughing with. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn in a mixture of delight and grief.

"Aaaaand now we've lost him," Jim snickered, interrupting his thoughts again.

"Really doctor, it's not that big of a deal. We've all been in your predicament before...well... maybe not all of us." Uhura glanced at Kirk playfully, who shrugged in response. "Y/L/N is a great scientist, and an even greater friend-"

"Yes yes and very beautiful, with eyes like stars!" Chekov added, "Y/N has many admirers, you are not the only one."

"Chekov?" Bones asked

"Yes sir?"

"Stop talking."

"Yes sir." Chekov turned back to his screen.

"Look, Bones you don't have to admit it just yet. You have that whole brooding cowboy doctor thing going on, I get it! Just don't let it get in the way of your happiness," Jim reasoned.

"You are all delusional! Now are you all going to continue turning me into a spectacle, or can we get back to this mission report?" Leonard demanded.

"Whatever the doctor orders. Try to listen this time will ya?" Kirk teased.

~~~

Leonard was noticing it more and more. How his eyes searched for you every dinner, every meeting, in the hallways, even in the medbay. And once his eyes found you, they rarely strayed too far.

When you weren't around him, his thoughts always drifted back to you. How nice your hair looked, how fascinating your last report was, how enchanting your voice is, ...how soft your lips look. It was all getting out of hand. He was regularly staying later to finish paperwork because he was too lost in his own head.

Leonard was having one of those moments where his mind was far away, musing about you. He was so spaced out, he nearly didn't notice the tap on his shoulder.

When he turned around and saw you standing there smiling shyly at him, his heart nearly went up into his throat.

"Lieutenant-Commander, what can I do for you?" Leonard asked, finding a smile of his own.

"Can you take a look at my hand please?" You asked, holding one of your hands closed. Leonard noticed some red peeking from between your fingers.

"Oh boy, what did you do this time?" Bones asked as he led you to sit on one of the biobeds.

"You know those plants I picked up from Lainatha?" You asked

"The ones with the purple flowers that smell like a dead body?" He asked as he grabbed his kit.

"Mhm!"

"What about em?"

"They have VERY sharp leaves," You laughed.

Leonard shook his head and groaned, "Let me take a look."

You winced as you slowly opened your hand, revealing a cut that spanned the length of your palm.

Leonard lightly cradled the back of your hand as he inspected the minor wound. "Damn darlin' those leaves must be mighty sharp to nick you this deep." He murmured. "this plant ain't poisonous, right?"

"Not that I've found, doctor." You laughed. His ears welcomed the sound. He felt his cheeks warm as he admired you. When you laughed or smiled, it was contagious. Even to him.

"Leonard?" You asked gently, breaking from his daze once more.

"Sorry, just thinking that um... We're gonna want to keep an eye on this, just in case you have some unexpected reaction," He returned his focus to your hand. "I'm gonna clean this up, put some bandages on it and give you something to speed up the healing process," Bones explained.

He went straight to work on your palm, handling it as carefully as possible. Luckily it didn't need stitches. He bandaged it nice and tight before giving you a couple hypos to prevent pain and infection.

"I expect to see you here at least once a day, so I can see the progress and monitor for allergies or poison," Leonard instructed.

"Do you always worry this much?" You giggled.

"Only about my favorite patients," he said without thinking. Perhaps it was just a figment of his imagination, but he could have swore you were blushing. Impossible! You? Blush at him?

'In my dreams,' Bones thought.

"I promise I'll stop by," You said sweetly.

"You better. If I don't see you in here by the end of my shift tomorrow, I'm coming after you." He teased accusingly.

"I'm counting on it," You...did you just... wink at him? "Thanks for the help Bones, I'll see you tomorrow!" You lightly patted his shoulder with your uninjured hand and hurried back to your lab.

Leonard slumped in his seat and contemplated the mess of feelings he was experiencing. He wasn't sure if he was ready to love someone again. He wasn't even sure if he knew how to love anymore, but he was sure of one thing. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn't even know it.

~~~

The next day, Leonard strove to keep his mind on work. When his thoughts drifted to you, he would immediately turn his attention to the task at hand. It worked for awhile, but toward the end of his shift he realized he had not seen you all day. You had promised to come in so he could take a look at your cut again, but of course you were nowhere to be seen.

Leonard asked around the medbay, but no one had seen you except for one nurse who claimed you were still in the botany lab. "That's just typical," Bones grumbled, grabbing his kit. "I'm always running around, gathering these officers like a cat chasing chickens."

The moment he stepped into the lab, he couldn't find it in his heart to be mad at you. You were totally engrossed in your work, testing the ph levels in some alien soil.

"How are the tests coming along, Lieutenant-Commander?" Leonard smirked.

You beamed at him, "wonderfully! I'm learning so many new things, it's crazy. I-" Your face fell. "Oh no! Forgot to meet with you! I'm so sorry Leonard," you hurriedly put down your soil container and made your way over to him.

"Yeah yeah you're so sorry, whatever. " He teased. "Get over here so I can see that hand."

The inspection went just fine. Your hand was healing nicely and there was no sign of infection or allergic reaction. He changed the bandages and gave you something for the pain.

"All finished. I still want to observe it, just to make sure it heals nicely... And wear gloves from now on! I don't want to have to keep chasing you around for injuries like this." Leonard quipped.

"Yes sir," you giggled, "I won't forget to come in next time."

"I'll believe it when I see it," he closed his medical bag.

"I mean it! i'm almost done testing all the samples, so I should have ample time for remembering... at least until we visit another unexplored planet." You shrugged playfully.

"Then you'll find some new plant to creatively injure yourself with. Razor sharp leaves... give me a break," Leonard ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh! that reminds me, I have something to show you. Come on!" You nudged him with your leg and stood up, striding over to the 'plant nursery' as you so lovingly called it. Leonard grinned at your enthusiasm and followed.

"You're sure none of these are poisonous?" He asked

"We don't keep the poisonous ones here, silly."

"But you do have them?"

"What's your obsession with poisonous and allergy educing plants?"

"I wouldn't call it an obsession, a mild concern maybe," Leonard smirked.

"I'm not gonna poison you doctor, I want to show you this!" You proudly presented him with a somewhat unassuming plant. It had a black stem with thorns on it, as well as wide black leaves. On top was a bulb; the kind that usually holds flowers inside. He couldn't for the life of him understand what was so interesting about it, but he was sure he was about to find out if that dazzling smile on your face was any indication.

He loved when you ranted about your work. The joy in your voice was infectious, your ramblings were so passionate, and he always learned something new. He would listen to you talk all day if he could.

"What is it?" he raised an eyebrow at the plant and bit back a smile.

"Don't sound so unimpressed Len, this little guy is one of my favorite plants to date." You crossed your arms. "I found him during our exploration of Conate Ultima-A." Leonard nearly melted when you called the plant a 'little guy.'

"The planet orbiting the red dwarf star?" Leonard clarified.

"Mhm! he's black all over because black absorbs all available wavelengths of light. That's important for a plant feeding off such a dim star like Conate Ultima. He has these big leaves, you see." You lightly touched one of the leaves. "That's also for absorbing light. Not only that, but they've developed thorns to keep herbivores from eating them." You explained.

"Like Earth roses," Leonard smiled at the way your eyes lit up.

"Exactly like Earth roses!" You agreed, "They also have this really unique trait where if you pick the flower, it doesn't wilt. Instead, it sprouts roots at the bottom and you can transplant it!" You beamed "But that isn't even the best part."

"It isn't? Tell me darlin', what could possibly top that?" Bones asked.

"Technically, this is another defense mechanism, but..." You cradled the bulb in your hands. "When you caress the bulb like this," You delicately brushed the sides of the bulb with your thumbs. Slowly, the bulb opened to reveal the brightest yellow flower he had ever seen. It practically glowed against the black leaves. He had to agree with you, this was the best part."

"Wow..." Leonard tried it with another bulb. It slowly opened for him as well.

"I know, awesome right?" You lightly bumped his shoulder with yours.

"What do you call it?" Leonard inquired, pulling his hand away from the plant.

"Well, officially we call it Conate Rosaceae... but I've named this one Leonard." You looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes and he couldn't look away.

"You named it after me?" He asked.

"Yeah, it reminds me of you."

"How so?"

"Well, it's perfectly designed to find light in dark places." You chuckled, "no matter how many times you try to cut it down it just comes back bigger and stronger." You fiddled with your bandages sheepishly. "It has this intimidating exterior that most people try to avoid... but... on the inside, It's the brightest, most breathtaking flower. So bright, it stands out from all the others."

To say Leonard was flattered would be an understatement. He had received compliments before. On his work, his hands, maybe even his hair, but he couldn't recall the last time someone had told him something so meaningful. Bones didn't know what to say; he didn't even know what to do with his hands. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man for crying out loud! But here he was, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.

He needed to say something, anything. A simple thank you didn't feel like enough. Nothing about him felt like enough after Jocelyn.

He swallowed.

You made him feel like enough.

"Y/N..." Leonard stepped closer. You looked up at him with those eyes again. Those eyes he loved to get lost in. Your gaze met his and it was like something clicked inside him. Your eyes flickered down just for a moment, but he caught it. His heart fluttered and his blood rushed to his face. It was now or never.

He leaned in.

You leaned in.

There were mere inches between you.

He could feel your breath on his lips.

"Lieutenant-Commander Y/L/N to the bridge," the intercom startled you both apart.

"Dammit Jim..." Leonard slid a hand over his flushed face and sighed, clearly displeased with his friend's interruption.

"The captain always has the most impeccable timing, doesn't he?" You smiled awkwardly, bouncing on your heels.

"That's one way to put it, yes" Bones frowned at ceiling. There was an awkward pause. He could sense your expectant gaze on him, but he could already feel his walls coming up again. The love would start off sweet, sure, but it wouldn't last. It never did. Leonard cared about you- no, that wasn't right, it was more than that. He couldn't bear it if this didn't work out.

Maybe this is for the best.

"Leonard?..." You said softly.

"It's okay Y/N. You'd better get up there, see what he wants," Leonard offered you a terse smile.

You nodded softly, "yes sir, I'll um.. I'll see you later." He didn't miss the disappointment in your eyes as you left.

He was disappointed too, but Leonard was used to disappointment.

~~~

Two weeks went by and Leonard seemed to be avoiding you. Your cut had healed, but another form of hurt took its place. Had you done something wrong? Pushed him away somehow? It made you sick to think that your almost-kiss had cost you a dear friend. You had tried to speak with him several times, but he always had somewhere else to be. He was busy immunizing security personnel for an upcoming mission. Your silly affair in the plant nursery was probably the last thing on his mind. Still, you felt incredibly lonely. You missed sharing meals with him, stopping in the hallway to chat with him. You missed his anecdotes about Georgia and his snide remarks about Jim's inability to stay out of trouble.

As much as it pained you to think this way, you wished you could take back what you said in the lab. You wished you had just kept it buried, then none of this would have happened. Leonard would have patched you up instead of Christine, and you wouldn't be left in this weird limbo between friends, lovers, and strangers.

"Lieutenant-Commander?" Spock interrupted your lamenting.

"Oh! I'm so sorry Commander, what can I do for you?" You forced a smile.

"I want to discuss your productivity. Can we speak in your office?" Spock asked.

"Of course, right this way." You led him to your office and shut the door behind you. You already had an idea of where this was going. You had been feeling anxious lately and your work was suffering because of it.

"Should we...have a seat?" You asked awkwardly.

"I do not believe that will be necessary, this will only take a moment." Spock pulled out his PADD. "Tell me, are you feeling well?"

You were a bit taken aback by the question. It wasn't often Spock inquired about your state of being. "I um... yeah, I feel fine. Why?" You lied.

"Your colleagues have informed me that you seem... fatigued during your experiments. I have also noticed your report was full of misspellings and grammatical mistakes, which is unusual for you. Additionally, you appeared distracted and dazed when I approached you just moments ago. Normally you greet me by the door." He slightly raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry Spock..." You sighed and sat on the edge of your desk, "I've just been feeling...uneasy I guess."

"Uneasy?" Spock inquired.

"Yeah, my anxiety has been really bothering me lately. I don't mean to worry you." You gave him a half smile.

"Have you spoken with the doctor?" Spock asked. Your stomach sank at the thought.

"I um... no, I haven't."

Spock studied you for a moment, scrutinizing you for any hints as to why you haven't sought medical assistance or counseling when both were readily available.

"I just...don't feel welcome there right now." You met Spock's gaze. A silent conversation passed through you.

"I see." Spock said and looked down at his PADD. "Well, Lieutenant-Commander Y/L/N, I was pleased with your research on the razor-leaf corpse flower. I have kept a watchful eye on your lab access logs and have determined you are due to have two cycles off."

You smiled. For real this time, "thank you Commander Spock. I will use them well"

"I trust that you will. Good day Y/N."

"Good day, Mr. Spock."

~~~

Leonard stared at his PADD in frustration. Everything had irritated him lately, even the blinking of the cursor on the screen. His irritation quickly turned into aggravation when Jim barged in unannounced.

"Bones! My good, good friend Bones!" Kirk shut the door behind him.

"What?" Leonard grunted.

"Yeesh, don't sound too excited to see me." Jim sat in the seat across from his desk.

"I'm busy, what do you want?" Bones refused to look at the captain. Maybe if he just didn't look at him, he would go away.

"Can't I just chat with a pal without wanting something from him?" Jim fiddled with a paperweight on the desk.

"Jim." Bones warned.

"You know doctor, it's very unprofessional to scare away patients, right?"

Defeated, Leonard looked up from his work. "What in god's name are you talking about?"

"Y/n" Jim crossed his arms and stared hard at him. Something about his expression put Leonard on edge.

"What about Y/N?" Bones narrowed his eyes at the captain.

"Spock just got done telling me that Y/N, and I quote, 'doesn't feel welcome here right now.' I wonder why that could be."

Leonard huffed and ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that day. "Dammit..."

"What happened bones?" Jim leaned in.

"Nothing happened." Leonard snapped.

"Clearly something happened for you to be so-"

"Nothing happened... that's the problem," Bones clarified. Leonard didn't realize it was even possible to feel so terrible. He hadn't felt this bad since the divorce, but at least with the divorce he wasn't the only one at fault. Leonard had been childishly avoiding you, and now you didn't feel comfortable in the one place you should always feel safe to go. "I'm a goddamned coward, Jim."

There was a long pause between them. Leonard didn't need to tell him what happened for Jim to understand. "What did I tell you about not letting the brooding cowboy act get in the way of your happiness?" The captain teased.

"Not helping." Leonard rested his face in his hands.

"Right, sorry." Jim shifted awkwardly. Bones was grumpy at the best of times, but he always had this undertone of playfulness. He could scold you about missing an exam or tell you your plan is trash, but it would be wrapped up in southern metaphors and clever insults. This was different, this was real. "You...you really love them, huh?"

Leonard nodded.

"Something happened and... now you aren't sure how to take that next step." Jim said.

"Something like that... I thought I knew what I was doing, but now I'm not so sure. I thought some distance would make it clear to me, but I'm more lost than ever... I've made a terrible mistake Jim, one I don't know how to fix," Leonard peered into his coffee mug to avoid the captain's piercing blue eyes.

"Look Bones, clearly you and Y/N are miserable, so why don't you do the both of you a favor and talk to them. I'm sure Y/N will understand if you just...explain how you've been feeling," Jim attempted to reassure his friend.

"I don't exactly have the best track record on talking about feelings, Jim. I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist." McCoy frowned.

"First time for everything," Jim reached over and patted Leonard's shoulder. "Go make it right. That's an order."

Leonard took a long drink of his coffee, "can't believe I'm taking dating advice from James T. Kirk"

"Like I said. First time for everything."

~~~

You had spent the entirety of your day off attempting to read, but you really weren't in the mood for much of anything except sleep. Nyota had stopped by earlier and you greatly enjoyed her company, but the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach hadn't gone away.

You just really wanted to talk to Leonard, apologize for misreading the situation. You handled the unrequited love for years and you'd do it for many more as long as you knew you could still be friends.

You heard a buzz at the door and contemplated ignoring it. It was way past normal visiting hours and you were trying to wind down. Perhaps it was something important. You answered the door, expecting Chekov, Nyota, or maybe even Spock. Instead, you were greeted by an extremely exhausted looking Bones.

"Oh, doctor I um, wasn't expecting you." You said, feeling your heart-rate skyrocket.

"Can I come in?" Leonard asked with that rough, gravely voice you had always loved so much.

"Of course," you stepped aside "Come on in..."

Leonard hesitated a moment before stepping inside. Your room was homey, full of furnishings that were so you, it made his insides churn with affection.

"Len, are you okay?" You asked softly from beside the door, afraid to get any closer.

Leonard watched you for a moment, trying to find the words to say, but one look at you and all of his practiced lines had disappeared for good. All he could say was, "I'm sorry darlin'..."

"You're...sorry?" You asked.

"I've been acting like a kid... I'm sorry I haven't been around. We should have talked about this as soon as it happened."

You sighed. You knew this would be coming sooner or later. You were glad he at least wanted to do it in private. "I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have come onto you like that... I scared you off and made things awkward for us both professionally, and as friends-"

"No, no, wait a minute. That's not." Leonard took a deep breath to organize his thoughts. "Y/N, you are so beautiful and smart and dedicated, and funny. You light up every room you walk into."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and wondered if this was a dream. Leonard stepped closer and gave you a hesitant smile. "I'm damaged goods sweetheart. You deserve more than I can give, but it's only been two weeks and I'm a goddamned wreck." Leonard's voice was strained as he poured his heart out to you. "I can deny it all I want, but-" His breath hitched when you placed your hand on his cheek. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the sharp poke of his stubble.

"Leonard, please..." You whispered, eyes pleading with him.

"Please what, darlin'?" He drawled, bringing his hands to your face. He noticed the heat of your blush in his fingertips, he could feel you quiver, eager for him to close the distance.

"Please, just-" His lips were on yours before you could even answer. Your mind was fuzzy. All you could think about was how soft his lips were, how perfectly they fit with yours. His smell was everywhere, it was intoxicating.

He was intoxicating.

He hummed as your fingernails scratched the base of his neck. Leonard pressed you against the wall, desperate for some way to bring you closer. He couldn't remember how to breathe, how to think. All he could do was press his body against yours.

You sighed blissfully against his lips. His hands on your waist were your only anchor to the real world. You clung to him, crumpling his uniform, but you hardly cared. You just wanted him to keep kissing you.

Leonard suddenly remembered to breathe and pulled back, only to press his forehead against yours. Your breathing was shaky and your legs felt weak. You caressed his cheeks once more and placed another soft kiss to his lips, which turned to two, then five.

At last, Leonard pulled you into his chest. He didn't want to let you go just yet. You didn't want to let him go either.

"Darlin'?" He whispered.

"Hm?" You replied, face buried into his neck.

"I love you," Leonard kissed your temple. Your heart leaped in your chest and you held him a little tighter.

"I love you too Len," you whispered softly. Leonard smiled against your cheek and placed another kiss there. "Oh, and just so you know..." You started.

Leonard pulled back to look at you curiously.

"If I ever hear you call yourself damaged goods again, I will kick your ass." You grinned at him.

"Message heard loud and clear Lieutenant-Commander," he chuckled and captured your lips in another searing kiss. Leonard's communicator chimed in his pocket, but he ignored it. There was no code red, the captain could wait. After all, they could have been together by now if it weren't for him. There was a lot of lost time to make up.

[disgraced-doctor-junkenstein]

[Continued from here] @queen-of-the-junkers​ “Very astute observation!” Junkenstein chimed though he moved Peach close to his chest as to better keep hold of her as well as make lunging at him risk having the potted plant be in the way of his more vital organs. His other hand remained high in the air like a torch in warning. “However you greatly misunderstand the true nature of bombs.” Choosing to remain stationary, Junkenstein allowed the Queen to cautiously move around him somewhat, his eyes still trained on her as his thumb continued to hover over the lit red button. Would she truly risk attacking him now? Honestly, it would be her greatest advantage and yet he had to wonder if she might doubt herself as well as had underestimated him yet again.  “Scare tactics?” So that was what she thought this was. A fair but completely wrong assessment of the situation at hand. “You really-” He had started to laugh when her doubt in his brilliance was voiced. A sharp jolt tore though his emotions as he gnashed his teeth together in rage. Grace truly was just another ignorant royal that underestimated his worth, his brilliance, his cunning, and skills! She honestly should be made a proper example of and killed as a warning but Junkenstein was a vengeful man and he already had plans to humiliate her. Perhaps the grand finale needed some adjusting when they would reach that step!

“Remember what I said about bombs?” He pressed the button only for the room around them to immediately strobe all around them with red light and a shrill hiss as the center pieces in half of the bombs rose up to start releasing a cloud of deep navy gas that flooded the room looking purple ever other second as the other set of bombs still flashed in warning. “Destruction is the main goal for most, sure!” Having dropped the detonator as it became useless, the doctor moved to his side opposite of where he saw the Queen try to lead off in. His free hand dipping down into the collar of his lab coat to fish out a mask to move over his lower face just as the gas started to temporary obscure their surroundings. In a few more seconds the other half would reveal their purpose.  “Best strike me down fast, Grace! That or leave before the toxin sets in. Does it already burn your lungs? Oh if it is then we are in for one HELL of a ride!” Junkenstein cackled wildly as he backed towards the nearest door fully expecting to be pounded upon but it hardly mattered at that point. This was phases two of his plan and even if he were to be killed here by her, there was more in store for Grace and he was sure she would curse his name as she would stumble through the maze he turned her home into.  As the plume of gas began to dissipate the other set of homemade bombs went off. A large crackling of electricity webbing in arcs between them in bright blue volts that were nearly white in nature. The doctor’s goggles helping to save his vision as he stilled in the doorway to watch. Hell, he could not let himself be killed here and by the Queen no less but if he were to die, well then, surely the Queen would learn not to mess with the mischief ever again. 

All around them everything began to turn back on. Lights growing ever brighter only for them all to pop, sending shards of glass raining down throughout the palace as Junkenstein continued to laugh. Then suddenly it all stopped. The world was thrown into pitch black darkness save for the chemical bombs that highlighted the mad doctor which might serve as a warning to stay back or maybe a lure. Either way, phase three was starting.

[reidsnose]

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

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the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

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