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shiraishi-mai · 3 years ago

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[2:00am]

You sat at the end of the table, swaying slightly in your seat. A department event was tonight and your friends finally convinced you to leave the house for once, claiming it would cheer you up.

"And I hate to admit it, but when he's nice, he's amazing," you sniffled. "And handsome."

You grabbed your friend's hands. "Like realllly pretty." You frowned.

"I hate him."

Your classmate looked at your friend amused.

"Is she going on about him again?" He sighed nodding.

"Damn she's been going at it for a while. Three weeks of just ranting about how horrible he was and how in love she was and crying."

"Why'd he have to say all that terrible stuff," you mumbled as you propped your face on your elbow. "Everything was so perfect." Your head nodded downward.

"Did you know she even had a boyfriend?"

"She blurted it out one day when Koko made fun of her for being single. But she studies all the time like she's in the library early in the morning, goes to classes, then studio, and I don't know when she even sleeps let alone have time to get a boyfriend."

"Or even hang out with him?" She spends her weekends either working or at the studio." Your friend frowned. "I kept trying to get her out of the apartment but-" they glanced at your half asleep figure. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea."

Their eyes widened as you laid your head on the table, cheek squished against the wood and facing away from them.

"y/n, y/n do you want to go home?" your friend tentatively asked.

"Nope, all good!" you threw a thumbs up high enough for him to see behind you without moving your head. "I'm just going to try to get the room to stop rocking." He nodded hesitantly and slowly your friends started conversing about school and other things while you tried to focus on your breathing. You closed your eyes in an attempt to reduce the strong pounding in your temple.

The door to the bar opened and a tall figure walked in scanning the bar. When his eyes landed on you, he drew in a sharp breath as he took in your slumped figure. Even half-passed out drunk, hair mussed, and head plopped on the table, you were so damn pretty.

"Is she sleeping," a familiar voice came from beside you and your eyes tightened in response. You were too out of it to register it and frankly to exhausted to care about whatever was happening around you.

"I don't think so," your other friend said, "But she was drinking a lot."

"y/n, let's go home." The voice was closer to your face now and you could almost feel the warmth radiating from the figure lowered in front of you.

"My head hurts," you whined.

"I know baby, let's get you some painkillers and then you can lie down."

Baby? He's real? Your friend mouthed at your other friend. He was shocked as he observed the very large man crouching in front of you with a soft expression. His yellow hair was a bit damp and his baby face had faint dark circles under his eyes. And you were right, he was handsome. They didn't expect your ex-boyfriend to look like that.

"Let's go pretty girl," he repeated and you slowly opened your eyes.

"'Tsumu I'm tired."

He swallowed as he felt the ache in his chest grow worse. You sounded so tired. A stark contrast to your usual lively self. Were you sleeping properly? Eating? You had a tendency to forget to eat...

You gazed at him and he resisted the urge to stroke your cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry." He frowned. "There's food at home though. Maybe that will make you feel better?"

You gave him a dreamy smile, "Yay food. Okay."

"Okay," he repeated, standing up while you attempted to.

"I don't think she would want you taking her if she was sober," your friend frowned. "y/n didn't you say this morning you didn't want to see him? What if he does something weird?" Atsumu opened his mouth with an offended expression when you said, "It's fine. He's an asshole but he wouldn't pull anything."

"Besides," you breathed, "I'm going to pretend tonight didn't happen anyway."

Ouch. Atsumu thought as you grabbed onto his wrist for support as you made your way out of the bar. When the cool air finally hit you, you sighed in relief as the throbbing in your head finally decreased. There was a small walk to the main road where the cabs were and you debated kicking off your shoes.

A squeal came from your mouth as you realised you were being picke dup.

"This'll be faster," Atsumu said as he carried you bridal style. He wasn't wrong and you didn't want to walk anyway so you just wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his warmth.

Having you in his arms and watching you automatically nuzzling into his chest made Atsumu clench his teeth, upset at the whole situation. If he hadn't messed everything up, maybe they would have been at home, snuggling or watching a movie. Or he could have gone with her and met her friends and they would have gone home happily, safely with each other.

***

When you reached the apartment, you fumbled with your keys before stumbling in and turned to stare at Atsumu as he stepped in after you.

"I'm just going to make sure you get to bed and don't hurt yourself." He said with his hands raised. Your face was expressionless as you just turned and walked into your room, flopping on the bed.

"y/n you need to change," he said following you in. "And you said you hate waking up with makeup."

"I don't care," you said quietly and Atsumu closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath as he walked over.

"Princess, sit up for me? Please?"

You sat up sleepily rubbing your eyes.

"Leg," he ordered and you stuck it out in front of you so he could take your boot off. After doing the same with the other, you watched him disappear into the bathroom.

Is he actually here? You thought hazily. He shouldn't be right? I should kick him out.

But you felt the fatigue in your bones and couldn't find the energy to yell or tell him to leave. After the breakup, balancing everything in your hectic life and doing it all with a smile when all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and do nothing was apparently unsustainable.

Seeing Atsumu made you want to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He was your support and had always helped you through bad days. It was ironic that the person you wanted to comfort you and talk about everything with was the cause of the problem.

You were staring at the floor when you felt something damp on your face. Atsumu was slowly dabbing at your cheeks with a wipe, gently taking off your makeup. He wouldn't meet your eyes as you stared at him. His eyes were tired too and something in them didn't look right. HIs entire face seemed less...bright?

"Close your eyes for me." He shook his head, resisting the urge to kiss you and continued.

When you opened them back up he was finishing taking off the last bit of lipstick, mouth slightly open and then smiling softly when he said, "Okay done."

I'm still in love with you. You felt the words bubbling on your tongue.

I love you so much. He felt selfish at the thought.

You sighed and began unbuttoning your shirt and Atsumu's eyes widened.

"H-hey," pink tinged his ears, "Um I'll go get you some water."

It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. You slipped on a shirt thrown on the floor and pulled shorts on.

"You're wearing my shirt," he commented when he came back in. You glanced down and remembered how you had worn it for the past few weeks, trying to find any form of comfort from the hurt you felt.

"It doesn't smell like you anymore," you mumbled, crawling under the blankets. The instant relief you felt as you laid down almost made you moan. Atsumu didn't reply as he gently set the glass of water by your bed stand.

"I guess I'll go now," he said, standing a bit awkwardly and picking up his jacket from the chair. He froze when he reached the door as he heard a quiet sniffle. The desire to be in his arms was driving you crazy and you felt your willpower crumbling.

"Could you stay," you bit your lip and kept your eyes closed. "At least until I fall asleep?"

There was a silence and you cursed yourself for asking, feeling another pang in your chest at the rejection.

You felt the mattress dip and your eyes opened in shock as Atsumu laid down carefully beside you on top of the blanket. He stuck an arm under your neck while the other wrapped around your back and moved you closer to his chest. He smelled like home.

Your tears had finally stopped and both of you sighed in relief as the tightness in your chests lightened considerably and your bodies relaxing for the first time in a while.

"Does your head still hurt?" he asked quietly.

"A bit."

You felt a hand begin to stroke your hair, smoothing out any tangles before resting on your cheek.

"I miss you," he said to the darkness.

"Me too."

"I'm sorry," his thumb stroked your cheek.

"Okay." you moved up to place your head in the crook of his neck and he rested his chin on top of your hair, tightening his arms.

***

You woke up confused. How did I get home?

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a box of meds and a note stuck on top.

"I got you some hangover meds and coffee should be made in the pot. I know you hate waking up alone but I thought it'd be better if I wasn't here. I know it doesn't mean much but, I still love you."

Your lip trembled and you looked up at the ceiling to keep your tears from falling.

"You're such an ass," you whispered. He still loved you but you had already forced Atsumu Miya out of your heart and there was no going back now.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu drabble #atsumu miya x reader #ialreadyhaveaparttwolol #hq angst #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles

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glitteryhellhole · 4 years ago

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alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

#z nation #10k #ten thousand #10k x reader #10k imagine #z nation fic #tommy 10K #10kxreader

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sweetcathedral · 4 years ago

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Note: First Toji story! Your "mom" that I had in mind for this one is basically a female Nanami, and your adoptive mom. Tried my best not to get burnt out from this one, so it might sound a bit rushed and repetitive, but I’ll be taking a two week break after I post Gojo’s sometime this week (hopefully tomorrow or the day after). Enjoy !

⚠️: 18+, raw, bulge, plot (?), voyeurism/exhibitionism (phone), eating out, fingering

It was obvious why Toji was around your mother lately, and why your mother still bothered keeping him around.

“Cut the sweet talking and just say you’re broke again,” you overheard your mother say. There wasn’t any anger or resentment in her voice, she didn’t need any sweet talking for her to lend Toji money again ‘cause she was also someone without any need for attachments. In fact, your mother hated attachments, so her pretend relationship with Toji was perfect. Not only did he fuck her any chance he got, but your mother even asked if he could take you into his place until you found a suitable apartment close to your university (of course he’d be getting paid double the amount for the hassle).

“I don’t have an extra room, so take mine for now. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You sure? I don’t mind taking the couch instead,” now that you’re finally facing him, you take in the details of his gruff features, hardened by whatever work he does for a living.

“Something wrong?” he cocks his head to the side and rubs his hand at the back of his neck.

“No. Sorry, it’s just—it’s my first time properly seeing you,” you can feel the heat rise up in your body.

“Oh, I guess it is,” he walks up to you and looks down, realizing how big he is and that you’re no longer looking at him from afar. “You’ve changed from the last time I saw you though,” measuring you against him, using his hand to see where your height compares. He smelt of smoke and something metallic, a foreign scent your memory had nothing to contrast to. A dark red smear on his forearm catches your attention. You thoughtlessly brush your fingers on his arm, triggering him to grab your wrist. His eyes widened in a wilderness you’ve never seen before with a hint of panic.

“Um . . .” you didn’t know how to react.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and collects his composure back, “I’m gonna go take a shower first. Make yourself comfortable.”

The grip around your wrist lightens, leaving a red imprint that’s a bit sore to the touch.

Fuck. Toji had been too caught up with the bounty hunts he took that he forgot you were temporarily moving in with him today. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. It was his calendar app that reminded him, in the middle of a fight with a curse user, that he quickly finished the job and rushed back home to see you already standing at his door. Patiently waiting for him to answer the first few knocks and hesitating to knock again, which he found cute. He didn’t even have time to clean his wounds up when he snuck in through his back window.

Once Toji strode into the bathroom and locked himself in, he took off his shirt, thankful for the black shade concealing the blood slowly oozing out of his wound on the side of his torso. “Tch, for fuck sakes,” he mumbled before cleaning off the excess blood and throwing his shirt in the garbage. He thought his forearm was wounded too, the pain concealed from the rush of adrenaline he still had from running back home, but it was just the blood from his torso.

Toji wasn’t sure how to react when he’d see you again, especially as a proper person, since he has never paid any attention to you back then, until now.

“Take in my daughter until she finds her own place. She’s currently shopping for ones near her university since the other one had a person who died in the building,” your mother told him over the phone, neither sounding like a question or a demand.

“Huh? You have a kid?”

“Are you blind now too?”

“Don’t give much attention to kids.”

“Well she’s an adult now, so how ‘bout it?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Money, of course.”

“Heh, deal,” he answered, not giving much thought to the details as long as he’s getting paid for it.

“Now you’re making it sound like I’m selling my daughter off to the Devil.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.”

“She’ll be coming over in two weeks time,” your mother sighed in relief before hanging up.

Toji pulls himself back to the present hearing the faint scuffling of your feet across the floor, probably carrying your boxes and luggage into the living room. I should help her out. He carefully lifts the towel off his wound to check if the bleeding started to slow down. He lost track of how long he’d been in the bathroom, so he went against the thought of stitching it up and just slapped on some gauze for now. It’d be suspicious if he holed himself in the bathroom for too long. As Toji inhaled his breath to pull himself together, he raised his head, losing his sense of his equilibrium.

“Shit,” he softly chuckles, seeing his blurry reflection in the mirror falling out of the frame and hitting the floor. His body goes limp as his mind slowly succumbs to the darkness, only the sound of your frantic voice through the door being the last to leave his senses.

When you finally busted the door open, Toji was shirtless and laying on the floor drifting in and out of consciousness. You flipped him over to see that he was trying to patch up his wound. “We need to get you to a hospital,” you started dialing 911, but his heavy arm stops you from doing so.

“. . . don’t . . .” he desperately said through ragged breaths before going limp again.

“Fine, but I need to at least get you to your room. I’m not strong enough to carry you,” you try to heave him up to his feet, lugging his arm over your shoulder, opposite from the side where his wound is.

Once you managed to get him in his room, you guided him to his bed before rushing through your boxes to find your medical stitch kit. Although it was hard trying to disinfect his wound before stitching him up and placing a clean gauze over it, you managed to help him dodge the hospital bills he wanted to avoid. Cheapskate, just use the money you get from my mom.

You let out a sigh, tired from the nervousness of moving into a new place shared by a man with a mysterious background, and the panic that ensued when Toji looked like he was knocking on Death’s door. Peering up at him from the side of his bed, you take in his other scars along his body; there’s a jagged one on his chest, a couple clean slits along his shoulder, and some small rigid circular ones scattered over his stomach. You lightly run your fingers over the soft pink flesh like tracing a roadmap of his past life, his scars standing out like checkpoints.

“Home. My father threw me into a . . . fighting pit,” the rough vibration of his voice startles you, breaking you from your trance.

“Sorry, I—!” you pull away, retracting your hand back. But instead Toji grabs it back, unfurling your fingers to place them back on his scar.

“Also home. A fight with my cousins . . .” he continues guiding your fingers throughout his body, dragging you from scar to scar and telling you the story of his past, like there was nothing to hide. “And finally,” he gently places your palm on his fresh wound, “. . . another bounty hunt . . .” There was a moment of hesitation in his voice, his eyes laid on your hand as he thumbs over your knuckles, twiddling with your fingers before firmly yanking you over him onto the bed.

His finger traces up the curve of your spine, the small of your back, feeling the bulge form under his joggers—nudging at the plump bulb of your cunt through the thin fabric of your satin shorts. Keeping yourself calm and collected, you push yourself up from his shoulders, his muscles tensing up from your touch.

“Toji, I don’t have money to pay you. The medical courses in university are expensive already.”

“Who said I was asking for money?” he traces down your neck with his eyes before bringing you towards him, rubbing a lock of your hair between his thumb and index finger as he kisses your neck.

“You’re hurt and acting delirious from the pain. I’ll look through my boxes to see if I still have painkillers,” you huffed, trying to fight through his strength and the aching need to continue to see through to the end. It felt wrong, but his desperate hands kept you from making the right decisions.

“Don’t leave, stay,” he whispered between kisses, now trailing down to your breasts, sucking at your nipples. The straps of your tank top and bralette slip from your shoulders as his fingers softly drag down your back, your garments now clinging to your waist. Your soft moans bounce off the walls of the room. Your fingers laced through his hair, continuing to tease your nipples and thoughtlessly riding your hips on his bulge, leaving a wet stain through your shorts and his joggers. A wave of shame clashes over your need to have more of him, but the movements of his hands, arm, tongue, body keeps you from turning back.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you moaned through huffs of breaths.

“Then, what are you waiting for? Do it. I’m right there,” he valiantly bucks his hips up, pressing his erection into your pliant cunt, holding your thighs down on either side of him.

Your fingers reach for his cock from under you, molding around the shape of him as you push his joggers further down his hips. There was already precum dripping down his cock, painfully pulsating at your soft touch. You hold the tip at your entrance, glossy and slippery from your eager juices, and slowly ease yourself onto his cock. Toji groans at your plump walls hugging him and pulling him deeper inside of you. Your body blooms into a lustful behaviour that even he was surprised in awe at the honesty, forming a bemused grin across his face.

When your hips started to tremble beyond control, Toji continued, propping himself up with his arms and careful not to bust the stitches you gave him. At this point his pain had melted into pleasure, gratefully thrusting into your cervix and feeling the satisfaction of the shape of his tip protruding from your lower abdomen. You wrap your arms around him, spreading your legs wider so as to not touch his wound.

“Ngh, I think I’m about to pass out,” you bit back a moan, struggling to keep from cramping.

“Heh, that’s cute,” he rammed himself harder into you, the sound of slapping intertwining with your moans & grunts. Your body twitches in intervals, keeping up with his rhythm, nearing your climax. Toji grasps onto you, clamping you down on him as his warm cum fills up your womb, unable to keep the excess from flowing out.

“Shit, sorry,” he reaches down to touch your vulva, the tips of his fingers feeling at his thick substance leaking out from you..

“Mm-mm, it’s fine. Infertile,” you said, trying to catch your breath.

“Did you cum yet?”

A giggle fell from your lips, “not yet—!” he flips you over before you could finish whatever you were about to say, switching places so that you’re laying on your back now. He wasn’t gonna take that for an answer cause he always finishes what he started.

“Allow me,” his head settled in between your legs, hands firmly placed at the back of your thighs. You sharply inhaled at the soft velvety feel of his tongue to your sensitive clit, and the strong feeling of his fingers pushing through your swollen walls. Your head falls back into a lustful daze, allowing him to do whatever he wants to do to you. Only the sound of your rapid breathing and cute moans fill the air of the room, as Toji satisfies himself with your lewd expressions and lolled out tongue.

“Did you make it safely to Toji’s place?” your mom asks through the phone.

“Yeah . . . everything, went well,” you bit your tongue, flailing your hands behind you to try and get Toji to slow down.

“Are you okay? You sound too out of breath in the morning.”

“Yeah—! I just, just came back for a—jog,” he thrusts harder into you, having fun watching you try to keep your composure. Ready to hear a moan slip out from your wet lips. “Anyways, I need to, to go, bye mom!” you hung up before she could say her goodbyes.

“Someone held up pretty well,” he chuckles at the nape of your neck before leaving his marks along it.

“Fuck you,” you pant, hating yourself for obliging in this situation, but loving the hard feeling of his cock splitting you apart. He hooks one of your legs up to the kitchen counter, your other fighting to stay on its tippy toes as you reach your morning climax—squirting on the kitchen floor.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear, flipping you over and stirring his cock back inside of you. “Get ready to go rounds with me.”

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p---ink · 4 years ago

Text

What’s On Your Mind?

Author’s Note: Hi :) Remember me? I’ve missed you guys, and Tumblr altogether. I felt absolutely guilty about not writing, but the writer’s block was strong on this one guys. And while I’ve had lots of ideas for stories I couldn't quite put them onto paper...or screen. Anyway, wanted to try something new. So this one is about a Thor! I dedicate this one to you @swaggysposts since I know you love Chris Hemsworth. Its pretty short, but still, tell me what you think, my love!

Summary: Avenger reader has a crush on the god of thunder.

Warnings: some lite language and fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

Part Two Part Three

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right? You said you can what?” Mr. Stark asked, without a doubt forgetting that there were stranger things in the world.

Clearing my voice, and speaking a bit louder I say, “I can read minds, sir.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Stark voiced out loud placing a sleek pair of sunglasses on his face. He was still pretty skeptical of my claims, but another part of him was very anxious. Or would the word be embarrassed? Mortified? Yes that was definitely the perfect description.

Whatever the feeling was, I knew the cause was because he knew that if what I was saying was true, he would have to start groveling because of the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind when we first introduced ourselves.

‘Forgive me for looking Pepper, but this girl has the ass of a professional volleyball player’ was what he thought as he opened the door for me on the way in.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking though, because It only works through touch.” I lie, as I watch his worry fade away. I needed this job, and I couldn’t be disqualified because of harmless thoughts that we could all be guilty of sometimes. Besides it wasn’t Tony’s fault: these jeans did do wonders for my bottom.

Something told me though, that if this Pepper weren’t in the picture, he’d have no problem saying what he thought of me out loud. And he was a handsome man, couldn’t be much older than 40, so maybe in another universe I’d consider him. Not this one though.

“Hey Kid,” Stark started, interrupting my own inappropriate thoughts, “just saying ‘I can read minds’, wont be enough. You’ll have to prove it.”

“Of course! Sorry—” I was cut short by the sound of the thick glass doors of the conference room being slammed against the walls.

A brown haired boy with deep chestnut eyes, that looked as frantic as the rest of his face, rushed out apology after apology as he took his seat next to the older man.

Tony, who hadn’t spared the younger boy a glance, said, “Ah, perfect. Tell me what he’s thinking.”

‘Spiderling’ was the name he had assigned him through thought. As I concentrated on his confused features, he looked from me to Stark.

“What who’s thinking? Is Dad—I mean Mr. Stark, referring to me? How could she possibly do that? Oh God, he hasn’t said a word to me since I got here. He must be really upset because I’m late. Geez, I hope he doesn’t take Karen again. I’d rather he kill me.” I repeated, after relaying all of the boy’s thoughts as fast as he could think them.

“Is she right?” Tony asked the boy. He felt both amazed and amused. Amazed with me, and amused by Spiderling for thinking of him as a dad. He would never let him live that one down.

After swallowing his astonishment, and turning his attention from me, Spiderling answered “Yes.”

“Good. And at least we both agree on your punishment. I’d rather kill you, too. Saves me less trouble in the future.” Tony stated. He was punishing him because apparently this was the third time he’s been late to the interviews he was supposed to be in charge of.

Spiderling let alarm overtake his features, but before he could say anything, Tony continued on with more questions.

“Do you have any other skills, we should know about?”

“Well just a bit of hand to hand combat. But it still needs a lot of work. Other than that no—”

“How did this happen?” Spiderling interrupted, wonder getting the best of him.

“Kid,” Tony starts, but he goes ignored by Spiderling.

“Were you bitten by some kind of radioactive insect like me? Or are you super smart like Mr. Stark? Or perhaps it was gamma radiation like Dr. Banner! Or maybe a super serum like Mr. Rogers!—”

“Don’t make me remove your batteries, junior!” Tony interrupted, then he looked to me. “I’m sorry. He’ll keep going if you don’t nip it in the bud early.”

But he didn’t have to tell me that. His own mind, like Spiderling’s, was racing a mile a minute.

“No its fine really. He’s just curious.” I reply with a chuckle. “And to answer your question Spiderling: maybe I was born with it, or maybe its Maybeline.”

I began to grow embarrassed by their silence at my terrible joke, until Spiderling stifled a chuckle. “I get it!” He said between snickers. “Wait why’d you call me Spiderling?” He asked. ‘Is she picking on me?’ He thought.

Needing to correct his thoughts to clear up any offense I say, “No! I would never pick on you, I just thought that was your name because Mr.—”

“Y/N, was it?” Tony interrupts, yet again. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to our team! When can you start?”

“Really?” I ask gleaming, ignoring the fact that he wanted me to shut for outing what he really thought of his younger protégé. “I can start right away! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He hurried. “F.R.I.DAY, will prepare your room, and Peter here will show you around.”

At that Peter hopped to his feet mind racing with thoughts of excitement on the hopes of a future friendship. “Follow me!” He said, grabbing my hand.

“Not so fast, champ. I need to speak with Ms. L/N alone for a moment.” Tony stated, nodding at Peter as he excused himself from the room.

Tony cleared his throat, and relayed his thoughts, thoughts that were hard to separate from Peter’s louder ones earlier. “So Y/N,” He started towards me, leaning in close as he chose his words carefully. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you didn’t need to touch Parker nor I to read our thoughts. Care to explain?”

Flustered at being caught I stumble across my words as I try to explain, “Ah yes, well its rare, but sometimes I don’t need to touch the person.”

“Mmm.” Tony hummed, not believing a word I said, and I knew then the gig was up.

Cocking my head, and wearing a semi-sympathetic expression I say, “Don’t worry. I don’t even know who Pepper is.”

And before Stark could protest, I ran to Peter’s side, so we could begin the tour around my new home.

That was all a little over eight months ago. And so much had changed now. Peter’s hopes became true. We were the best of friends. His boy-like charm never grew old to me, and nor did my gifts to him.

“Cerulean” I’d say, when he’d think things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’. He always thought questions like that as a sort of game. I never got tired of playing along.

It seemed to never click in his mind though that he could never scare or surprise me when he hid behind corners or couches, because I could hear his thoughts before he got the chance to.

But besides the little stunts he’d try to pull by hiding his thoughts in order to frighten me, Peter was as transparent as they were. The boy was an open book, and he rarely kept a secret. It made us perfect friends, because he never seemed to get tired of me knowing every single detail about him.

Though the other avengers treated me like family, Peter seemed to be the only one welcoming of my “gift”.

If you asked Steve, he’d think something along the lines of “I’m too old for this shit” when I’d answer questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask. Then he’d immediately curse himself, for thinking a swear word when I’d tease him with one of the team’s inside jokes, like “language.”

Bucky tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in a vault, but it never worked. I knew exactly how many dead bodies he had under his belt, and where he kept his hidden stash of plums.

Natasha, however, never tried to hide her kill count. She always made it a point to up the number by one as a threat to me, every time I accidentally crept inside her head. I always made it a point to keep my distance whenever she was deep in reflection.

Banner was interesting. His mind had two voices of course, and neither one of them gave a shit about whether I heard them or not. There were the deep thoughts that I struggled to understand most of the time, then others were one-word sentences only. They were louder than the rational side of his brain.

“La, la, la, la, la”, was literally all that Sam would think whenever there was something he wanted to hide. Sometimes he’d do it just to piss me off, because he knew if I said to ‘knock it off’, he could accuse me of evading his thoughts in the first place.

In truth, I never tried to read what they were thinking. I found the process invasive, and distracting from my own feelings. I worked hard to shut it all out, doing my best to make truth of that lie I told Stark all those months ago. But it was very draining, and took more energy than my body could exert. One person was easy enough to ignore, but more than ten, proved to be a task.

Most of my entire life I spent working in order to shut out all of the world around me. I avoided crowds whenever I could, blasted my music through my headphones whenever I couldn’t, and made sure to drug my body heavily with painkillers and vitamins whenever the last two weren’t options.

It was so much work just to go out into the world. So much work until I met him.

The son of Odin was the only person whose thoughts I would pay to hear. Coincidentally, he was also the only person who’s thoughts I couldn’t read. I could never hear him, I would only ever feel him. He radiated a rare intensity I had never felt before. His thoughts, or should I say feelings, even managed to drown out all of those around him. I had no choice but to focus on him whenever he was around.

When I was with him, he literally clouded my brain. I didn’t have to work to shut him or the others out. He did it for me.

I usually thought that was refreshing. But in the time I grew to know him, I found it mostly frustrating at times.

You could say I liked him, but that would be putting it lightly.

Liking someone for me, was a rare luxury. My crushes were always narrowed down to celebrities, and other people who didn’t know I existed.

It was a pain to date people whose thoughts about you were always on display.

And if you thought dating was hard as a telepath, try having sex. Imagine being able to hear all of your partner’s most inner thoughts about the faces you make when you cum, or discovering that you have a small birthmark on your ass that you would otherwise know nothing about.

Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest experience.

I had never experienced the actual joys of feelings for someone, and wondering if they liked me back. Thor was my first. And chances are, he would never feel the same way.

He was a literal god, and he lived up to that fact. I was just an average Midgardian, with a silly school-girl crush. It would never happen.

Silly thing that Fate was. She had to make the only man I found irresistible, unattainable too. What a bitch.

“Hey. Are you ready?” Natasha asked referring to our daily training.

“Yes, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, a bit confused that she isn’t in her workout attire.

“Well you’ll h–”

“What? Why?” I squeak, before she can finish her thought…well before she can finish her sentence. According to her thoughts, I’d now be training with Odinson.

“I think you’ve graduated from me, kiddo. You can read my thoughts fast enough to predict as well as react to all of my oncoming moves.” Natasha relayed, a hint of sadness detectable through her words. Though she behaved like an older sister to me, she would miss throwing me around on the mat. “We’ll have to see how you do against someone whose actions you can’t predict, just in case that problem comes up out in the field.” She informed me while walking away, before I could confront her.

“Can’t it be someone else?” I yell to her, but she doesn’t answer.

“You wound me, Y/N.” That deep familiar voice bellowed from behind me. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company.”

Oh you have no idea, I thought to myself, as I spun on my feet to face him. I craned my neck to peer up at his eyes. One was a pretty hazel, while the other a deep blue. Cerulean. Funny how he’s the reason I’ve grown so fond of the color after all of these months.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I just don’t think its fair is all. You know? With you being a god.”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to handle me? Do not fret. I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than you could handle.” He said, wiggling his brows suggestively, while flashing a smile. I suppose I failed to mention that he was a massive flirt that could put even Tony Stark to shame. “I promise to take it easy on you.” He furthered, smirking and winking his hazel orb.

“Why do I feel like your idea of taking it easy is vastly different from mine.” I say, trying to settle the butterflies.

“Whatever you’ve heard about me is nonsense. I’m a merciful master.” He assured. “We’ll just do some light work today: of course we’ll start with stretching, then 30 laps around the facility to build your stamina, a few hours of work on the machines to build your muscle—because my lady you are a dainty little thing, and then we’ll end the day with an hour or two of sparring.”

At the sight of my dumbstruck face, Thor says, “I’m sorry that must be too light. How does 50 laps and three hours of sparring, sound?”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re right. I have some matters to attend to on Asgard, but I think we can squeeze in 75 laps, take it or leave it.”

Realizing how deathly serious he was, I quickly say, “I’ll leave it. Let’s get started.” Deciding to address the subject of excessive training later, I turn to begin my stretches.

Quiet. As usual. I was alone with my thoughts, which was something that only happened quite literally when I was alone. I couldn’t help but be immensely aware of his presence.

Moments like these i’d die to know what he was thinking. Especially when I could feel his stare. It burned worse than fire on my skin.

Fire couldn’t compare to his actual touch, however. The same touch I now felt on my upper back. For a man who weighed over 600 pounds, he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be. His thick fingers against my spine raised goosebumps to my flesh. I would have jumped out of my body if he wasn’t there to keep me grounded.

“My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you.” He informed, through a deep hearty chuckle. “I just needed to correct your form. Your time on the field will suffer if you continue with your training like this.”

“Oh.” I replied, tensing a bit as one of his hands traveled around to my stomach and the other pushed against my spine to straighten my posture. My mind was hazy, and if I had even understood the words he spewed a moment ago, that status now changed.

“It all makes me wonder what the Lady Spider has been teaching you.” He continued, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “Better.”

When he stepped away from me, I released a small shaky breath. “What’s on your mind?” He asked. Maybe he did notice the change.

I mentally decided that I would ask him the months-long question I had always wondered about. “What’s on yours.” I state instead of ask, trying to resume my stretches.

“Pardon?” Thor asked. “Do you wonder about what is I ponder? Or is that your answer?

“Both.” I say without hesitation. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I’m afraid that’s by design, my lady.”

I stop stretching and turn around to ask, “How?” He had my full attention now.

Shortly after he corrected my posture, Thor had propped himself up against one of the machines to properly examine my form while I stretched. I tried to ignore how awkward that made me feel.

“Since an early age I’ve had to learn to guard my thoughts.” He stated. “My brother is the God of Mischief, and Loki often played games of the mind. Mother took notice of how much it was ailing me, and taught me a few useful tricks on how to keep him out. I guess I’ve always practiced them, even in his absence. I don’t know if I even know how to stop it.”

“Oh.” I breathed out. Trying to make sense of his words.

While I was doing that, he asked,“May I ask why it is you wish to know? I thought you hated your gift.”

“I do. But I guess it still feels odd to not be able to use it on someone. I have no clue what you’re thinking let alone how you feel about me. It unsettles me.” I immediately regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out.

His reaction did not aid my embarrassment. A thunderous laugh erupted from his throat. It was the kind of laugh that you could feel in your abs, and I knew this because his whole torso shook as it spread through his vocal cords. He was genuinely amused.

His amusement prompted me to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“How I feel about you.” I think he mutter softly, before following a little louder to himself, “It’s weakened you.”

“What did you say?” I never had to ask someone to repeat themselves unironically, until I met him.

“Your ability I mean. It has impaired you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I think the word is ‘spoiled’. Yes that seems to be the perfect descriptor.” He teased.

His words made me feel small and silly. Almost insignificant. “Excuse me?”

Sensing my irritation, he quickly told me, “I meant no disrespect. Its just most of your kind and some of mine are not awarded the same privileges that you have. We rely on body language and hidden meanings behind words to determine how someone feels. Well with the exception of me of course, because who would not adore me?” He joked. “But that’s beside the point. You have not yet learned how to read between the lines. Which is why I unsettle you.”

“I know how to read body language, I’m not an idiot.” I say a bit more sharply than I intended. My sense of inferiority getting the best of me.

“I’m not implying that you are, just that if it were not for your talent you would know have known what was on my mind ages ago.”

“That makes no sense. If I couldn’t read minds, i’d be in the same place I am now: unable to know what it is you think.”

“My dear, even if you could read my mind it would make no difference, for I’ve already made my feelings towards you painfully clear. One need not the aid of your capabilities.”

“Thor, could you stop the riddles—”

He ignored my pleas and kept going. “But just to be explicitly clear this time, since obviousness is lost on you—”

“Stop insulting—”

“I shall tell you how I feel about you.” He stepped and leaned in closer, as if what he was about to say was a secret meant for only my ears. “Listen closely because I will say this but once, so be wary not to misunderstand: I desire you.” He explained, words dripping with the utmost sincerity.

My brain started racing. And I suddenly realized just how close he was. “You desire me?” I repeated to myself.

“Yes. I desire you.” He stated again, anticipating my uncertainty.

If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. My poor ribcage wasn’t built for this.

“A-A-as a friend right?” I stutter out. “Because we aren’t, we aren’t close, like the rest of the team? Yes,” I breathe out. “That has to be what you mean.” I say that last part more to myself than to him. Clearly I’ve misunderstood his words, even though he warned me not to.

“While I would value a companionship, I’m afraid that is not all I mean when I say I desire you.”

“Eerr” Words are hard to form all of the sudden. Stammering out sounds is all that I can do.

The air around us stilled, and it was pregnant with silence. He gave me a moment to think before asking, “Would you like further explanation.”

“Yes please.” I rush out quickly. “I think that will clear things up a bit more.”

“Right it would. Well If you wish to know what’s on my brain when you’re near, I shall tell you.” His words are teasingly slow, and he knows this.

"But I doubt,” He continues, “i’ll be able to properly convey just how bad I long to be in your presence when you are gone. Just how much I battle myself when it comes to finding any excuse to touch you. As you know, I lost one of those battles today. I don’t know if you can handle, just how much I imagine your warm embrace to be. How tender I’ve imagined your lips to feel. I just know them to be softer than rose petals and sweeter than nectar.”

“In fact,” He started. I could almost physically see the lightbulb go off over his head. And then, he began ridding us of the rest of our space, extending his long arm to snake around my waist, and pulling me against his chest at a speed faster than lighting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put that theory to test.”

It was like a lucid dream. I was only allowed to watch everything play out before me, without the luxury of making any actions myself. It took great focus on my part to even will my head to move. My nod was so subtle I was unsure if he could even see it. But the God of Thunder had more than enough to go off on.

He joined the hand around my waist with his other, and shortly after I could feel my feet rise from the ground. My hands that were previously glued to his chest, found their place behind his neck to support the rest of my body. His head met me the rest of the way, before he blanketed his lips over mine.

He released one of the hands around my waist, to bring it up to my face. His fingers, now fastened to my jaw, slightly parted my lips allowing him to further explore my mouth with his. As massaged my tongue with his own, I could feel his eyelashes dance across my cheeks. That’s how close he was.

Most beards are scratchy and rough, but his felt like silk against my skin. His lips were even softer, and were like velvet in comparison.

I inhaled the scent of rain on freshly cut grass. It reminded me of dewy meadows and Irish springs. His touch was firm, but he managed to hold me with care, like a bull who had trained for years with the sole purpose of entering a china shop.

He tasted like what summer felt like, if you could make sense of it. The kiss had the same intensity behind severe thunderstorms. Beautiful but deadly. I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff: desperate to chase this thrill, but also wary of whether or not it was worth dying for.

I mentally decided that I could expire in his arms, and be perfectly content with that decision.

I got more into it. I thought that if this was a dream I’d take full advantage of it. Surely dream Thor would be fine with me taking over the kiss. It felt only natural.

I decided it was time for my tongue to do the exploring. My lips needed to memorize the feel of his. My hands wanted to study every strand of hair that lived on the nape of his neck. That was only fair right?

I was enjoying his embrace so much, that I mistook the spinning in my head for shock from kissing a god, instead of the telltale signs of an impending headache. The lack of air in my lungs was because he took my breath away in a figurative sense, instead of the literal physical sense it actually was. The ache that spread throughout my body wasn’t because of the suffocating grip he had to keep me pressed to his chest, but because our bodies were on the brink of fusing into one.

On second thought, maybe dying in his arms is more painful than I previously thought.

I tapped out, and he immediately released me, placing me gently on the ground. I struggled for air, but it was like he didn’t miss a beat. Not a drop of sweat in sight on his gorgeous face. Instead, I could see a bright smile forming.

“Are my thoughts clear enough, now?” He asked, breaking out into smirk.

But I had no time to acknowledge his joke, for I could feel reality setting back in. And reality is, I was a flustered fuck.

“I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I must be holding you from your business on Asgard!”

“What? No—”

But he had no time to argue, for in a flash I was already gathering my gym bag and heading for the door.

“What about your training?” I heard him yell.

“I’m sorry! Maybe another time!” And after that, I practically sprinted to get out of earshot before he could protest or stop me.

I raced passed Peter who was on his way into the gym. “Y/N! Are you okay?” I heard him yell. But what was strange is that I couldn’t hear him think it, despite being more than enough distance away from Thor.

“I’m fine.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Maybe Peter’s mouth was faster than his thoughts.

No. That wasn’t it, because as I raced through the tower, everyone’s minds were silent, even though they were chatting casually with one another. That never happened.

I burst through the nearest lady’s room, desperate to calm my nerves, when I saw Natasha applying red lipstick. The action by itself wasn’t disturbing, but the expression she wore was.

“Don’t tell the others.” She voiced, in a threatening tone.

“Don’t tell the others what?” I asked confused. Maybe she’d be able to take my mind off of things.

She looked at me like I had grown two heads, much like the first day we met when I proved that I could read her thoughts. “I know you read them. But this is different Y/N, the guys will never let me live this one down.”

“Nat, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the date.”

“You’re going on a date?” No wonder she was so panicked. The woman was more comfortable with killing than she was with being vulnerable.

“Yes—What is wrong with you?” She half-yelled, interrupting herself as if she just realized something was wrong.

I had, had enough with trying to not think about him, because the task was damn near impossible so I decided to just say it. “Thor admitted his feelings for me. And then we kissed!” I cried.

Oh, Nat mouthed, taking a more comfortable position against the bathroom sink. She leaned against its counter, and crossed her arms,“And now you can’t take your mind off of him.”

It was my turn to look at her like she was a lunatic. “How did you know that? Are you a mind-reader too?”

Song for the Chapter: Waiting For You by the Aces: Pretty Self-explanatory lyrics. Think of the song from Thor’s POV

part II

A/N: If you made it this far, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think :)

#thor #thor imagines #thor x reader #thor fluff #thor x black!reader #avenger reader #mcu imagines #black avenger reader #fluff #chris hemsworth #black!reader #black!writer #thor ragnorak

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

House Call

Neron “Creeper” Vargas x Reader

Request by my #1 @est1887: Ok here goes for creeper can you make it fluffy lol I love a good love story clearly lol: “Anything, just call me okay” “Call me now it urgent” “Actually I just miss you”

Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries, hospitals

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Soo this is my first time writing for Creeper and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out! I may have gotten a little carried away...hence the 4.9k but this was a really fun one to write haha. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @amandinesblogofstuff @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo

He winced, letting out an exaggerated groan as you stitched up the cut. You knew it probably hurt, but you also knew him well enough to know that he had been through much worse and wasn’t so dramatic about it. You smiled as you continued his stitches, “Pretending it hurts more than it actually does isn’t going to make me give you stronger painkillers, you know.”

He instantly dropped the act as a smile crossed his face, still looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking at you, “What if I’m really convincing?”

Your eyes met his for a moment as you arched on eyebrow, “You’re not that good of an actor, Neron.”

He chuckled, and a genuine pang of pain shot through him as he did so he tried to still himself again. You hated how often he seemed to get banged up, but he was at least a good patient. You weren’t positive that he always took the full amount of recovery time, but all of his injuries seemed to heal with minimal issues so you couldn’t complain. His stitches always stayed clean, and he swore that he always did the full run of whatever types of meds you had him on when necessary. For someone who seemed so accident-prone, he took good care of himself.

There was a comfortable familiarity between the two of you. Friends may have been too strong of a word, but whenever he had to come and see you, or the rare occasions that you had to stop by the clubhouse to patch someone up, you always enjoyed talking to him. Even if it was while you were swabbing out and stitching up stab wounds or bullet holes.

You were putting a light bandage over the stitching so it wouldn’t get dirty. The slice went down the inside of his bicep and it wasn’t exactly the shallowest cut. It would take a bit of time to heal but you had no doubts that he would be back to normal sooner rather than later.

“I think,” you lightly traced your finger along his arm, inspecting your work, “you’re good to go.”

“Sending me away already, Doc?”

You smiled, “You’ll have to come back soon anyway so I can keep an eye on your stitches. You’ll be seeing me again in no time.”

“You always take such good care of us,” he was looking down at his bandage.

“That why you keep getting busted up?”

“It is a bonus.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Right. Well, I’m gonna send your prescription out. It’s a low-dose pain killer. Nothing crazy. Only take it if you need it. You know the drill.”

He chuckled, “Something like that.”

You looked at his arm and let out a small sigh, “Alright. Just because I know how you boys are, and that cut isn’t exactly in an optimal location, I’m gonna give you my number so you can get in touch with me if something starts to feel off or the stitches rip,” you scribbled your number down on a piece of scrap paper before handing it to him, “Anything happens, just call me, okay?”

He nodded, carefully folding and tucking the paper into the pocket of his kutte, “Thank you.”

You nodded, saying goodbye to him before walking out of the room to send his prescription to the pharmacy. The other doctors didn’t understand why you always jumped at the chance to treat the guys from the MC, but you did genuinely enjoy their company. They were all good to you, and you weren’t put off by the ink and kuttes like some of your coworkers.

He walked out of the room while you were sending out his prescription. You only noticed because you could hear all of his friends in the waiting room, instantly starting to crack jokes at his expense when he walked over to them. You smiled, shaking your head slightly—you couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying but you were sure that it was amusing.

Once it was all sent out, you made your way over to Creeper and the few guys from the club who had been there waiting for him to get patched up. They were all smiles when you walked over, and it was impossible to not return the gesture.

“You guys are in charge of making sure that he doesn’t get any new injuries while this one is healing, alright?” you gave them all pointed looks, “And no bikes for him until further notice.”

“They aren’t my parents,” Creeper said with a chuckle and a shake of his head, “I can take care of myself.”

You glanced at the bandage on his arm, “Mhm. I see this,” you laughed as your eyes met his, “Give me a call if anything happens, okay?”

He nodded, “Sure thing, Doc.”

As you walked away, you could hear Angel’s voice, “Give her a call? Alright, ‘mano. Good for you.”

You chuckled quietly as you walked off to see your next patient. There were, but one of your favorite things was the fact that you really got to meet and help so many different kinds of people. Stumbling into the circle of the MC had been completely out of your control, but you were glad that it happened. You just so happened to get assigned the right case in the free clinic a couple years ago and since then, you were essentially on Bishop’s speed dial whenever anything went down. He knew you were good at what you did, and could be discreet about it.

Days came and went, and you hadn’t heard anything from Creeper, or anyone for that matter. You supposed no news was good news, but you were curious to know how your patient was doing. You didn’t have his number, though, he only had yours. So you waited. You waited for a call from him, or a notification from the hospital that he had scheduled his follow-up appointment. Either one would be fine by you.

You were just getting off your shift, walking out to your car when your phone started to ring. You didn’t recognize the number, but you picked up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Doc,” you recognized his voice immediately.

“Neron,” your tone was cautious as you fished your keys out of your purse, “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t a good call?”

“Because…it’s not,” he chuckled, “It’s not terrible. I just…did something stupid.”

“Oh did you?” you shook your head as you sat down behind the wheel and threw your purse over into the passenger seat.

“Think I could come in and have you fix me up?”

You sighed, “I’m leaving for the day. Text me your address and I’ll just come to you—you shouldn’t be driving anyway.”

“O-okay,” he fumbled over his words for a moment, “I, I can do that.”

“I’ll see you soon,” you laughed, “Don’t do anything else until I get there.”

You were surprised by how close he lived to the hospital. And, by extension, how close he lived to you. Your house was only about a ten-minute drive away from his, if that. You knew it was a small world, but you didn’t think it was quite that small.

You walked up and knocked on the door, medical bag slung over your shoulder. You’d taken to keeping a decent amount of supplies on-hand once you became the on-call doctor for the club. A few moments later he opened the door, a nervous smile on his face.

“You called?” you offered up with a laugh.

You noticed some of the tension disappear from his body as he nodded, stepping out of the way to let you in. You didn’t know what you had been expecting the inside of his home to look like, but what you were seeing didn’t surprise you. Everything was clean and orderly, but it was sparse. He didn’t strike you as the kind of man who was super into interior design anyway.

You took off your shoes, nudging them off to the side as you followed him to the living room. You noticed that he was keeping his arm pinned to his side, trying to hide whatever damage he’d done. It was amusing to you solely because he was going to have to show you what happened if he wanted you to fix it.

He sat down on the couch and you pulled a chair over from his table so that you could sit in front of him facing him. You looked back and forth between his face and his arm, waiting for him to start offering up some sort of explanation.

“Before you get mad,” he gestured with his good arm, “let me explain.”

“Please do,” you smiled as you started taking things out of your bag.

“I was being good,” he was almost pleading, “I was staying home—no rides, no club shit. Figured that since I’m stuck in the house I might as well get a few things around here taken care of.”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Did any of the things that needed to be taken care of involve any kind of heavy lifting?”

“I didn’t think it was heavy! Not until,” he finally showed you his arm.

A few of his stitches had definitely ripped. It would be a quick and easy fix, but you could tell by the look on his face that he felt like he was about to get in trouble in the principal’s office. You smiled as you carefully undid the bandage and started wiping the dried blood away.

“It could be worse,” you said with a chuckle.

You could see the relief in his body language when he realized that you weren’t frustrated or upset with him. His injury wasn’t at the top of his list of concerns—he knew that you’d be able to fix it. He just didn’t want you to be pissed off at him during or after the process of doing so.

You re-wrapped his arm and reiterated your previous instructions as you did, “No rides, no heavy lifting. You are a one-armed man for the foreseeable future,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a sling, “And just in case you forget I’m gonna strap you down with this,” you laughed as you fitted it onto him.

He shook his head, but smiled, “This isn’t necessary, Doc.”

“Clearly it is,” you laughed as you leaned back in the chair.

A few beats of silence passed before he looked you in the eyes and let a small smirk pass over his face, “Thank you, by the way. I owe you.”

You shook your head as you packed everything back into your bag, “You don’t owe me. I’m happy to help.”

You were putting the chair back in its rightful place when he asked, “I was gonna order pizza if you want to stick around. I know I just made your long day even longer,” he chuckled nervously, “It’s the least I could do.”

You smiled, nodding, “Pizza sounds good.”

The evening was much more comfortable than you thought it might be. It was the longest that you’d spent with any of the guys from the club, especially in a one-on-one setting. Creeper was easy to be around though, and he kept your laughing. You really didn’t even notice the time going by as the two of you lounged on the sofa, television on just for background noise.

“I would love to stay,” you stood up and stretched, “But I don’t get to stay home on bedrest tomorrow,” you laughed.

“Can doctors call in sick?” he asked with a smile.

You nodded, “We can. I try to save my sick hours for hangovers, though.”

He walked you out to your car, and you couldn’t believe how dark it’d gotten. You tossed your bag into your trunk and shut the door with a quiet sigh. Despite how long your day had been, you couldn’t deny that the ending to it all had been worth it. You hadn’t expected to have so much fun, to so badly want to stay a little longer.

“Thanks again for this, Y/N. I owe you.”

You smiled and shook your head, “The only thing you owe me is updates. That way I know your arm is still attached and healing.”

He laughed and nodded, “I can do that.”

You hugged him gently, careful not to press against his injured arm, “Take care of yourself, Neron.”

His smile was soft, “Get home safe.”

Telling him to keep you updated was all it took for him to keep in touch with you. Over the next few days, seeing text messages from him were welcome distractions in the midst of a lot of chaos at work. At some point in the morning, he would always send an update saying that he still had both arms, and that he was still wearing the sling. He would usually include whatever joke the other guys had made at his expense that day, just to reassure you that he was still taking it easy. You’d usually text him back on your lunch break, if you got one, or just when you had a spare moment to breathe for a couple minutes.

Soon it was more than just the once or twice a day check-ins. Slowly but surely the conversations started lasting all throughout the day. You obviously weren’t always able to respond to things right away, but nonetheless the two of you kept the conversation going regardless of what it was about. It was the first time in a long time that you had someone that you could talk to all day and not get bored. It was nice.

You were texting him as you were leaving work late one night, drained and pissed off at a call your supervisor had made. You were glad that you had a couple days off before you had to be back so you could cool off a bit and not say something that you’d regret.

“Free tonight?” you figured the worst that could happen was that he would say that he was busy.

You got his reply as you sat down in the driver’s seat of your car, “Yea. You ok?”

You sighed but smiled as you typed out your response, “Shitty day”

His reply was immediate, “Come over whenever. Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon lol”

You chuckled, shaking your head. You let him know that you were going to go home to shower and change and then you’d be over. You hadn’t been back to see him in person since you fixed his stitches. And, despite the fact that the two of you had been texting every day, you found yourself missing him a little bit. Even though it had been a rough day, you were glad that you would be able to stop in and see him.

You knocked on his front door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Showing up for something that wasn’t medical felt a little strange. You had no idea why there was a hint of nerves coursing through your body, but there was.

He opened the door, a smile spreading across his face, “Hey, come on in,” he stepped aside so you could come inside.

You slipped out of your sneakers and turned around to see Creeper staring at you. There was a smirk tugging at his lips and you felt your face get hot. You tugged at the hem of your tank top, letting out a nervous chuckle, “What?”

He shook his head, “Nothing. Just never seen you outta your scrubs, Doc,” he smiled, “Beer?”

You nodded, “Please.”

You collapsed down onto his couch and he appeared a few moments later with two open beer bottles, handing one to you. You took it happily, taking a long drink from it as he sat down on the couch next to you. He looked over at you, concern flashing across his features for a moment. Before he could ask you anything, you beat him to the punch.

“I know I’m not in my scrubs,” you looked at his arm, “But I’m still your doctor. What happened to the sling?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “I’ve been on my best behavior. No mishaps. I can’t go one night without it?”

You smiled, “Fine. One night,” you paused, can I look at the stitches though?”

He shook his head, “No. You had a long day. You’re not here to be my doctor. Just relax for a bit, will you?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, “Fine,” you sipped on your beer, “No big club plans on a Saturday?”

“Just following the doctor’s orders.”

You laughed, “Man, she must be a real buzzkill.”

He chuckled, “Yea, but she means well.” You gave him a light shove as you let out a laugh. He smiled, “You this mean to all your patients?”

“Just the ones who make fun of me.”

He finally got you to start venting about what had been going on at work over the past few days, but that day in particular. He didn’t say much, just nodding and encouraging you along. He could see that you just needed to talk about it, to be able to be bitter and complain about it so that you wouldn’t combust from keeping anything inside. Throughout the course of the conversation he’d gotten you each a couple more beers. You took them gladly, just happy that you were able to unwind and have some good company.

As it started to get later, you found yourself not really wanting to leave. It was comfortable at his house, with him. You didn’t quite know what it was about it, but you really had no desire to go home.

He’d put a movie on, and somewhere along the way you found yourself leaning against his good side. You settled against him, soaking up the heat that was emanating from him. He cautiously draped his arm around you, his hand resting lightly on your side. You let out a quiet hum of approval and felt the tension disappear from his body.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of Creeper snoring. You forced your eyes open, trying to get your bearings a little bit. Your head was rested in his lap, blanket draped over you and his hand still resting on your side. He was leaning back against the couch, head tilted slightly upwards as he slept. You sat up slowly, running your hands over your face.

He felt you stir and started to wake up. You smiled over at him as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, “Sorry I ended up crashing here.”

He chuckled, tiredness still weighing on his voice as he struggled to wake himself up, “No worries. Glad you got some rest.”

You got up and got ready to head home, already feeling like you definitely overstayed your welcome. He wasn’t rushing you out, but he wasn’t going to try to force you to stay, either, assuming that you had other things you had to take care of. He still walked you out to your car despite the fact that it was daylight now. He hug he gave you lingered for just a little bit longer, and you didn’t mind.

“Thank you. Sorry again about the impromptu slumber party,” you laughed.

He smiled, “You don’t gotta apologize.”

You fished your keys out of your purse, “Don’t forget to make an appointment for your stitches soon, alright?”

“Was hoping you’d be willing to make a house call for that.”

You smiled, cheeks getting hot for a moment, “I might be able to swing that. I’ll stop by sometime next week.”

The following week, you were making your way out to your car after your shift. Things were a little calmer at work, and your frustration had decreased drastically. You were digging around for your keys when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, brows furrowing in concern when Bishop’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey…everything alright?”

He didn’t sound overly worried, “Yea. Just wanted to ask a favor of you if I could.”

“What’s up?”

“You think you could take Creeper’s stitches out early? Need him on deck for some club stuff. He’s gotta be able to ride.”

You sighed. You know that realistically he’d probably be fine, but you couldn’t pretend that you wouldn’t be worried about whatever it was that was going on. You weren’t going to say no, though. “Yea, I could do that. Was planning on taking them out this weekend anyway.”

“Great. Think you can stop by his place tonight?”

“When do you need him by?”

There was a pause—he didn’t want to answer the question, “Tomorrow.”

“Fuck, Bish. Seriously?”

“I know. I’ll owe you.”

You chuckled, “You sure will. I’ll stop by his place tonight.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Yea, remember that,” you laughed as you hung up the phone. With a sigh, you texted Creeper to let him know that you were on your way to his house as per Bishop’s orders. He probably knew already, but you still felt weird popping by without saying anything first.

He opened the door for you when you got there, a smirk on his face, “Wow. I bet Bishop that you weren’t going to cave on taking them out early.”

“If your arm didn’t seem to be healing so well, I wouldn’t be,” you shook your head slightly as you got ready to take his stitches out, “You’re lucky you’re such a good patient.”

The two of you were quiet as you went to work on his arm. It really wasn’t the worst thing in the world that the stitches were coming out a little ahead of schedule. He’d been careful with his arm, and you really didn’t have any pressing concerns about it. Your worries branched far outside the scope of his latest injury.

“Do I get to ask what’s so important that Bishop needs you to speed up your recovery time?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, “You really wanna know?”

You sighed, shaking your head, “No. It’s probably better for my sanity if I don’t.”

“You worried?”

You flicked your eyes up to him for a moment, “Usually urgent club business ends with at least one of you guys needing to come and see me to get patched up. Odds aren’t really in your favor.”

He laughed, “I guess you’re right.”

Neither of you said anything more about it. As much as you wanted to stay, and maybe pry a little more into what was going on, you fought the urge. You knew that he probably had last-minute shit to take care of, and it wasn’t your place to get in his way. You slung your bag over your shoulder as you headed back towards the front door of his house. The knot in your stomach wasn’t going to go away until they were all back and safe from handling whatever it was that they were getting into.

After tossing your bag into your car, you turned around and wrapped him in a tight hug. For the first time since he got injured, he was able to properly hug you back. He kept you snug against him for a few moments, and you really didn’t want him to let go.

You finally stepped back, “Please stay safe, alright?”

“Doctor’s orders?” there was a small smile on his face.

You laughed and nodded, “Yes. Doctor’s orders,” you paused, gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, “Let me know when you’re back?”

He nodded, “I will.”

“Good. Okay,” you stepped in and hugged him again, pressing a light, quick kiss to his cheek before getting in your car, “Stay out of trouble, Neron.”

He smiled, “I’ll do what I can.”

A few days ticked by and you hadn’t heard anything from anyone. Which was perfectly on-brand for the MC, but this time it made you worried. You had debated texting creeper, but you stopped yourself. They were busy, probably wrapped up in dangerous shit. The last thing that he needed was you bothering him. Still, though, you wished that you knew what was going on.

You were pulling something together for a very late dinner at the end of the week. Your shift had gone way longer than it was supposed to. You were too tired to cook, but it was also too late to get anything delivered. So you were pulling random things out of your cabinets in the hopes of putting together something that resembled a meal.

Your phone buzzed once on the counter. You glanced over and saw that you had a notification from Creeper. Instantly you opened the message, “Call me now. It’s urgent”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you called him. Your hand trembled as you held it up to your ear, waiting to hear the worst when he picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Neron?” you couldn’t hide the worry in your voice, “Are you okay? Where are you guys? Are you all safe?”

“One question at a time,” there was a touch of humor to his voice, and you couldn’t tell if you found it reassuring or frustrating.

“What’s wrong? You said it was urgent,” your heart was pounding inside your chest.

“It is,” he paused, “Kind of. I mean,” you heard him take a deep breath, “Actually, honestly, I just miss you. Been thinkin’ about you all week.”

You let out a laugh, some of the tension disappearing from your body, “I miss you too. So…you’re still in one piece?”

He chuckled, “Yea. Me and everyone else.”

“Where are you?”

“About to head home.”

“Can I come over?” you blurted out.

You could tell he was biting back a laugh as he responded, “Yea. Of course.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Alright. I’ll see you soon.”

When you pulled in, you saw his bike in the driveway and knew he was already home. You didn’t bother knocking this time, electing to just let yourself in. He was standing in the kitchen, looking in the fridge when you walked in. He turned around, smiling when he saw you. Without giving it a second thought, you all but ran over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. He laughed, arms snaking around you and squeezing you tight. You shut your eyes, taking a moment to just breathe him in as one of his hands came to rest on the back of your head.

“I really did miss you, you know,” his voice was softer than you were used to. It was the first thing either of you said to each other since you got there.

You smiled against his chest, “I missed you too.”

He pulled away from you a little so he could get a good look at your face. You could see the exhaustion in his features, but you could see the happiness too. His hands stayed rested on your hips as he spoke, “I know I’m technically not your patient anymore,” he cracked a smile, “But if you wanted to keep stopping in to make house calls, I wouldn’t mind.”

You laughed, hands resting on the sides of his neck, fingers lightly tracing over the ink there, “You wouldn’t, huh?”

“I like you,” you could tell by the look on his face that he was choosing his words carefully, “And I like it when you’re here. Feels more like home. Not being able to talk to you for a week…really fucking sucked.”

You smiled, liking his simple honesty, “I agree. And…I like you too.”

He pulled you closer, fingers drumming lightly on your sides, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened, not expecting that to be the next thing that he said. Despite the shock, you smiled and nodded. The grin that broke out across his face was contagious, but you didn’t have time to really take it in as he cupped your face and pulled you in so your lips crashed against his. You practically melted into him, hands sliding to rest on his chest. His thumb traced along your cheekbone as his lips moved against yours.

You pulled back to catch your breath, and you could feel his chest vibrating with laughter beneath your hands. Your face was hot and you found yourself smiling when he pulled you close and rested his forehead against yours.

“I guess you were right,” you said with a quiet laugh.

“About?”

You chuckled, “About this being urgent,” you smiled and closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

You rested your head against his chest and sighed, leaning into him. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand sliding gently up and down your back. His arms felt strong, and they made you feel safe. You didn’t know for sure what was in store for the two of you next, but you were ready for whatever the next adventure was.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #neron vargas #creeper vargas #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x you #creeper vargas fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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spvce-cowboy · 4 years ago

Note

could you put these together with javi? i got them from one of the pomrpt lists!!! thank you!

when one of them is hurt by the antagonist… and their lover goes… absolutely ballistic and does everything in their power to get to the person they love, to the point in which the antagonist and it’s crew have to physically restrain them… and it still doesn’t stop them… they jsut keep kicking… doesn’t matter what happens to them… doesn’t matter if they get beaten in the process… as long as their lover is safe…

when they haven’t seen each other for a while (bonus point if they’re not sure the other one is alive) and all this time they’ve been trying to stay strong, but when they reunite, they crash into each other’s arms, and completely breakdown…

anon ur speaking my language here

warnings below the cut: cannon-typical violence, painkiller usage

javi spits out the blood in his mouth before turning his gaze back up at the sicario crouched before him.

it lands on the dirt floor of the basement with a wet sound. the sicario’s eyes--so strung-out that his pupils have been reduced to twin pinpricks of black against his sickly green irises--flick down to the puddle of red-black liquid before resuming his scan of javi’s face.

“the girl means a lot to you, huh?” the sicario has an all-too-familiar texan drawl, long blond hair stringy with the gel.

“where the fuck is she.” he grits out the same mantra he’d been repeating since he broke down the back door of the warehouse. the same mantra he’d repeated as he fought off two of the men, shooting one of them in the foot (twice) before he was overwhelmed by the other guards. the same mantra he repeated as they forced him to the ground, kicking his ribs until breathing was an issue. didn’t matter. he kept fighting regardless. it took two men to twist his arms behind his back like this, both of whom he got a jab or two against before they wrestled him to the ground.

“think that’s it. she your little play-thing? didn’t realize men like you still got hot for teacher.” the sicario cocks his head like a dog might, itching behind his ear with his glock in mock-thought. “though i suppose the whores get old after a while. y’know where we grabbed her? the fucking library. the whole sweet and innocent shick must really get your rocks off.” he laughs. a cruel, sharp bark. javi didn’t understand the meaning of blind rage until this moment.

“i’ll fucking kill you,” javi grits his teeth as one of the men restraining him twists his shoulder back even further. “i swear to god if you laid a hand on her i’ll--”

the sicario makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes and standing, as if even the suggestion was insulting. “not my style,” he pauses for a second, then gestures to one of the men holding javi down. “bull, however, if i decide to give him the chance...”

javi doesn’t register the surge of energy that has him attempting to struggle to his feet again. he only processes being pushed flush with the floor again, the sharp crack of pain that rolls through him enough to still the breath in his throat.

“i can get you money,” it’s hard to speak around the blood flooding his mouth but he manages. “money, information, whatever you want. whatever the fuck you want. just tell me where--”

the windows break all at once. javi stays flush against the group as the weight on top of him lifts, the sound of gunfire loud enough to have his hearing go to nothing more than a dull whine.

he doesn’t know how much time passes before someone rolls him onto his back. he coughs, something warm and wet covering his chin and rolling down the sides of his neck. someone’s voice is speaking to him, urgently, as a bright light is shone into his eyes but it’s nothing more than a murmur over the high-pitched tone bouncing through his skull. he thinks he might be saying something, might be trying to blindly bat the flashlight away because it hurts and he keeps trying to blink away the fuzzy haze that has settled over his vision. the world goes dark without warning.

you wake up in a hospital bed, heavy eyelids sliding open as your head rolls to the side. for a second you can do nothing more than take in deep lungfuls of air and listen to the steady beeping of the monitor to your right.

the painkillers getting pumped into your arm renders your tongue thick and heavy in your mouth, your throat dry enough that you can barely croak out a small: “javi” without wincing.

there’s a cool hand against your forearm, giving you a reassuring pat. you have to blink a few times before the nurse’s kind face comes into focus.

“he’s alright,” she tells you. her spanish, soft and sing-song and warm with relief, is as much as a reassurance as the hand she has on your forearm. something in you automatically relaxes. you think it’ll be a while before you can hear an american accent again without something within you curling in on itself with fear. without warning, the sicario’s face reappears in your memory, a jolting enough apparition that you squeeze your eyes shut again, flinching. the nurse notices, her voice growing even calmer. “he’s alright. resting, but alright. go back to sleep, you need your strength right now.”

you comply, though it’s not really a choice on your behalf. you just blink again and suddenly all other sounds fade, your eyelids sliding shut.

they make you down a meal of saltines and apple-juice before javi can come into the room.

you can see javi’s silhouette on the other side of the small pane of glass above the doorknob as you patiently work your way through the packet of crackers. you can’t help the loopy smile that overtakes your face while you see the silent movements of him arguing with the nurse outside. the frustrated way he throws his hands up and then starts pacing small circles in front of the closed door.

when you finish nursing the small box of juice that they gave you, the nurse who was helping you unwrap the saltines’ plastic sheaths--your hands too shaky to manage on your own, which was a bit embarrassing--stands and opens the door just wide enough to slip through.

you wait, entire body stilling as the two of them speak quietly outside, the monitor beside you betraying the beat of your hear. your breath catches in your throat as you see the knob turn down. it hesitates for a second before the door swings open.

you nearly start weeping when you see him. he looks panicked, wide-eyed and scanning you from the other side of the room as if you were about to break at any second. you swallow, opening your mouth to begin saying his name and--

javi crosses the distance between the threshold and your bedside in two long strides. you do your best to sit up to meet him half way, ignoring the whirring series of beeps that the monitors release with the movement. you collapse against him, his arms folding you against his chest with a touch gentle enough to demonstrate he at least absorbed at least some of whatever the nurse told him. you can practically feel the restraint it takes him not to crush you to him in reassurance that you were actually here. that this wasn’t some delusional mirage. he peppers the top of your head with kisses, one of his hands gently cupping the side of your face. his are shaking as much as yours are.

you don’t realize you’re crying until you pull back to look at him, cupping your palms against his cheeks and searching every feature, every new inch of swollen bruising, the stitches collected just above his brow that will no doubtably form a new scar for you to kiss before the two of you fall asleep each night.

“i’ve got you,” he breaths, closing his eyes and gently leaning his forehead against yours. your thumb swipes the under-eye of the unbruised side of his face as you look at him with relief, feeling truly safe for the first time in weeks. “no matter what. fuck i-- you--”

you cut him off with a kiss, something that’s both hungry and reassuring. he sinks against your mouth as he gathers you against the warmth of his body once more.

and it feels like home. it always will.

requests are open !

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #thots (tm)#javi thots

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cawy-x · 4 years ago

Text

Sick | Oikawa Tooru x reader

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You stopped counting how many times it had vibrated since the beginning of your lesson, which had only started ten minutes ago. You groaned in annoyance, you could not concentrate at all on what the teacher was saying and some of your classmates were giving you glares. You carefully took your phone off your pocket and hid it behind your pencil case. You noticed that you had at least twenty notifications from Tooru. You rolled your eyes and put your phone on silent mode before putting it back in your pocket.

“You are free to leave,” the teacher announced after the three hours lecture. You sighed of relief and stretched your legs. You packed up your things and put everything in your bag. You left the amphitheater and immediately took your phone. You now had fifty notifications, one from every social media you owned, three missed calls, and a lot of text messages. You decided to look at the messages first.

“I need you. I am bored. Help me.”

“Where are you? Why are you not answering?”

“I am dyiiiing.”

“Your boyfriend is dying, and you are ignoring him.”

“____-chan, please answer.”

“I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“My throat is so sore that it’s almost hard to breathe.”

“And I can’t even breathe through my nose! I miss the good old days…”

The texts went on and on about him dying and his final wish being seeing your face one last time. Your boyfriend could be quite dramatic sometimes. You sighed and rolled your eyes and as you were about to put your phone in your pocket you felt it vibrate. You looked at the notification from Iwaizumi and chuckled.

“Make it stop or I’ll have to end it myself.”

“Don’t tempt me! I would even pay you to end it quicker. But don’t worry I’m on my way 😉”

You put away your phone and started to walk towards Tooru’s place, fortunately, he did not live too far from the university. You decided to stop at the convenience store, knowing your boyfriend, he probably only had painkillers and had probably planned on ordering food. You took some soup and other food that are easy to digest as well as some medicine. You almost felt embarrassed at the number of things you had bought. You paid for the grocery and quickly made your way to his apartment.

You knocked on the door, and waited patiently but no one answered. You knocked again, still no answer. You were losing patience and started banging on his door. The door swung open to a sleepy Tooru. He had the worst bed hair you had ever seen, sticking out in all directions. He was only wearing his boxer and a T-shirt and was not so graciously scratching his stomach while rubbing one of his eyes with his other free hand.

“Iwa-chan you’re too loud, you gorilla,” he complained in a hoarse voice. He yawned and finally took a good look at you. His hands stopped as his eyes started widening, you could see his cheeks gradually turning red. He was frozen to the spot, a stupid expression etched on his face. You gave him your sweetest smile.

“A gorilla, huh? I am not sure I am into that new pet name,” you teased him and took a step forward. Before you had time to take one more step, the door was shut abruptly to your face.

You stood in front of the door dumbfounded and you could hear loud noises coming from his apartment. He was probably trying to tidy it as much as he could. You banged on the door.

“If you don’t come out in ten seconds, I am leaving Tooru!” You threatened him. You started to count in your head and the door finally opened again after nine seconds.

Tooru casually leaned against the door frame. He was panting heavily but tried to not show it. He was wearing pants and you noticed that his hair was slightly damp in the hope to tame his bed hair. He gave you one of his charming smiles.

“Hey, there.” His voice sounded funny which made it hard for you not to laugh at his attempt to look cool.

“Hi, there,” you said back, “are we pretending that you were not a total mess two minutes ago?” You mused, raising an eyebrow.

“I-,” he puffed his cheeks, “I didn’t know you would come.”

“Really? Despite the hundreds of messages telling me to come and that you were on the verge of dying,” you put your right hand over your heart and clenched on your shirt, “I must be a terrible lover for you to think that,” you dramatically added.

“The worst. Actually, you’re so bad that I’m willing to sacrifice myself and keep you to myself so that other men won’t have to go through this pain,” he stated proudly with a soft look in his eyes.

“So generous,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled lightly. “Can I come in now?”

Tooru did not move and looked conflicted.

“Are you sure? I mean I have a cold, I don’t want you to catch it…”

“You know what they say, only idiots…” you trailed off and stepped forward.

“Yes, that's why I am worried about you,” he snickered as he moved out of the way to let you in.

You looked at him, seriously pondering if hitting someone sick could be considered a crime.

“Says the actual idiot with a cold.”

He childishly stuck out his tongue at you and you sent him a kiss. You made your way towards the kitchen and put the grocery on the counter. As you began to unpack, you felt two strong arms snaking around your waist and your boyfriend’s face nuzzling into your neck, he gave you a quick kiss on the crook of your neck and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispered. You smiled and finished unpacking while Tooru was still embracing you.

“I brought some medicine, I figured you did not take any. You should take some before eating,” you said as you turned around to face him. He was unwilling to let you go which made it harder to face him as you struggled in his embrace. He grimaced at the sight of the medication.

“They taste awful,” he complained as he put them aside.

“Seriously? How old are you again? I didn’t know I had to shop for a little kid.”

“You’re so mean ____-chan. You should not be mean to a sick person,” he sighed, pouting, letting you go and grabbing the bottle of syrup on the counter.

“And a sick person should not be all over their loved one spreading their germs,” you retorted, “drink this and then go back to bed!”

He narrowed his eyes at the syrup and unwillingly poured some on a spoon. He made a gagging noise at the smell. He pinched his nose and quickly drank it. His face contorted in disgust.

“See, it wasn’t that bad you big baby.”

“It was terrible! I would not even recommend it to Tobio-chan!” He groaned and then seemed to be in a deep reflection, “well maybe for Tobio-chan…”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards his bedroom. Once he was comfortably in bed and after he had begged you to stay with him, you went back to the kitchen to make something for the both of you. You opted for a pea and carrot soup with rice. You put on a timer and took advantage of the rice boiling to check on Tooru. He was, fortunately, still laying in his bed watching intensely at a video on his phone. You did not have to check to know that it was something volleyball-related. His eyes left his screen and fell on you. He smiled gently and put down his phone next to him. He pushed his cover aside and motioned for you to join him. You slowly closed the door behind you and joined him under the cover, snuggling under the cover. You planted a chaste kiss on his forehead, it was still warm. You buried your face in his chest and he engulfed you in his arms, bringing you closer to him. His head was resting on top of yours. His hands were gently caressing your back. You stayed still for a moment, but you could feel his hands wandering not so aimlessly under your shirt.

“Tooru…”

He hummed in response and started to give you small kisses on your neck.

“What is it ____? Do you want me to stop?” He asked despite still leaving trails of kisses all over your face and neck.

“You should rest, you’re sick,” you said without much conviction.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Tooru had you pinned under him on his bed.

“I am fine. You should read the room ____-chan,” he said in an attempt to sound sensual, but his voice still sounded funny from his blocked nose. You found it more adorable than seductive.

His face came closer to yours; you closed your eyes anticipating his kiss. Instead, you felt something moist falling on your cheek. You immediately opened your eyes and looked at Tooru’s face hovering an inch from yours, snot running down his nose.

“Ewww Toooooru, that’s disgusting!” You laughed half-disgusted, half-amused, as you pushed him away from you. “You should read the room,” you repeated mockingly.

He looked at you puzzled by your sudden outburst, seemingly offended.

“I am not disgusting thank you very much,” he huffed and sniffled. That is when he noticed that he had snots coming out from his nose. He immediately covered his face and looked down at you as he was still on top of you. His eyes stopped on the wet spot on your cheek and his face completely changed into a mixture of horror and shame. He rapidly left the bed, almost tripping on the clothes on his floor. He grabbed the box of tissues on his nightstand and immediately cleaned your face, apologizing profusely, eyes not meeting yours. Once, he had made sure that your face was clean, he blew his nose. He stayed seated on the floor, his head hanging low. It must have been a blow to his ego.

“It’s fine Tooru,” you were about to add something when you heard the timer ringing. You hurriedly left the room to prepare the food. You put everything on the tray and came back to his room. He was curled up under his cover, hiding. You put the tray on the nightstand and sat next to him.

“Come on little snail, come out of your shell, dinner is ready,” you said patting his back.

“Don’t make fun of me ___-chan, I am mortified!” He whined.

You smiled, holding back a chuckle.

“That was so uncool,” he continued whining and groaning.

“It was,” you said, and he groaned, “but you’re sick it could have happened to anyone, don’t worry. Now let me see your pretty face and let’s eat before it gets cold.”

The covers moved as his pouty face poked out of it. You smiled at him and squeezed his cheeks together until his lips puckered. You kissed him and turned your attention toward the food. You felt the mattress move under his weight and suddenly his arms snaked around your waist.

“I love you,” he whispered and sat next to you on the bed, opened up his laptop, and turned on your tv show.

#oikawa fluff #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tōru #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq

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michelangelinden · 4 years ago

Text

don’t come into a man’s house and insult his shampoo (unless it’s you boyfriend’s)

Hello @fighttoshine

I hope you had a great willex week!! I wrote you some soft willex for the gift exchange, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

you’ll find the AO3 link in a reblog! (also thanks to @iti-iskuna for beta reading, love you bro)

“I’m sorry, what?“

Alex sits up from his slouch on the sofa, holding his phone closer to his ear. He can hear Willie sigh on the other end of the line.

“I broke my wrist trying to skate off the hill on Bradbury Road.”

Alex scoffs. Unbelievable.

“After I told you three times that you shouldn’t because you’ll fall and break something, you actually did it and fucking broke something?” Alex groans and closes his eyes, dragging a hand over his face dramatically. “I don’t want to say it, but I really want to say it.”

“Say it.”

“I told you so.”

Willie sighs again, but Alex can hear him laugh a little. At least someone is amused by this.

“Yeah, you did,” Willie agrees after a moment.

“Where are you now? Did you go to the hospital? Should I come over? I –“ Willie cuts him off with a laugh. Alex clears his throat.

“Calm down, will you? I’m fine.” Willie pauses for Alex to let out a breath of relief. “Yes, I went to the hospital, my wrist is in cast now and I want you to be the first person to sign it.” Alex doesn’t know if he wants to laugh at that or sigh again. “I’m at home now and I’m fine, Alex, you don’t have to come over. I’ll –“ Alex hears him breathe in and out quickly, “I’ll manage.”

“You don’t sound too convinced yourself,” Alex says with a small laugh. “Just call me, if you need me, okay? I don’t have to work today, so I’m pretty much available all day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now go be bored or whatever you do on free days, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yes, please.”

“Bye, hotdog.”

Alex huffs out a laugh.

“See you, speed bump”, he says and hangs up after that.

As soon as he drops his phone next to him he slumps back into the sofa cushions, rubbing his eyes. Willie is such an idiot. Why the hell is he dating him?

***

It’s not even an hour later that Willie calls him again.

“When you told me you’d call me ‘later’ I didn’t expect you for another hour or two.” Alex is standing at the open fridge, his phone on speaker on the kitchen counter.

“Shut up”, Willie says and Alex can hear him breathing heavily. He turns to the phone with a frown.

“Are you okay? Why are you out of breath?”

“I –“ Willie has to take another breath before continuing, ”I tried to take a shower. Did the whole- wrapped the cast in a plastic bag, couldn’t open a single bottle,” he swallows audibly, “so I tried to hold it between my legs. “Alex closes his eyes, afraid of what’s to come. “Almost slipped twice!” Willie pauses. “And then I gave up.”

Alex heaves a sigh. He feared the worst: that Willie’s in the hospital again because he cracked his skull open or something equally as horrible.

“So?”, he asks eventually, after the silence grows into a solid minute.

“I need your help.”

He fucking knew it. But he doesn’t say it again, so he just laughs a little.

“I’ll hurry.”

“Please don’t, I need more time to be embarrassed.” He sounds so tired.

“See you in a bit,” Alex says with a smile.

A pause lingers on the other end.

“Yeah, whatever,” Willie answers but Alex can still hear his smile.

***

Willie sure is a sight when he opens the door for Alex half an hour later. Alex tries to hold back a laugh but can’t help smirking when he sees him.

Willie's hair is in the absolute worst bun ever: half his hair is falling out and framing his face. He’s wearing bright red boxer shorts and a short-sleeved patterned button up, with only half the buttons done and most of them in the wrong holes, too. But his expression is the best – he looks so tired and so alert at the same time, as if some new challenge would jump at him at any second, his nose flaring with every breath he takes, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“You,” Alex starts, gesturing with his hand up and down Willie's body, “look a mess.”

“I am a mess, Alex!” Willie answers pointedly.

For a moment they just stare at each other, Alex with half of a lopsided grin on his face, Willie still looking grumpy.

It takes another moment before all of the tension and energy leaves Willie's body and he slumps forward into him, Alex just barely catching him so that they don’t topple over into the hallway. Willie has his arms hooked tightly around Alex’s torso, his face pressed into his shoulder. Alex’s brain takes a second to catch up, but then he loops an arm around Willie's back, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, holding the back of his head gently with the other.

“Hey,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Willie squeezes him a little tighter and Alex feels the cast on his right hand press into his back.

Willie heaves a sigh.

“I broke my wrist again,” he says, followed by an empty chuckle. Alex can’t help but smile a little and squeezes him back.

“Yeah,” he answers, his amusement noticeable through his voice. Willie sighs again.

“I’m 23.” His words are muffled by Alex jacket, but he can hear his disappointment clearly. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. From what Willie has told him since they got to know each other, he’s broken nearly every bone in his body at least once. Doesn’t make it any more fun when it happens again and again.

“It was a skateboard accident. Those things happen.”

Willie loosens his grip around Alex and pulls back a little, looking up at him.

“Are you mad?”

Alex is only a little mad. It was an accident, yes, but a stupid one, that could have easily been avoided. But Willie's eyes look soft and the corners of his mouth are drooping slightly and suddenly, Alex isn’t that mad anymore.

“Not enough,” he tells him honestly. A smile flicks across Willie's face, causing him to giggle quietly. Warmth blooms in Alex’s chest at the sight and he leans forward without thinking, pressing a soft kiss onto Willie's forehead, his lips lingering for a second, before he pulls back again. The smile is now stuck to Willie's lips as his gaze meets Alex’s again, and he calls that a success.

“Let’s get you inside, huh?”, he says then, letting Willie take the lead in pulling away from their hug and offering his hand for him to take, following him into his apartment.

Inside Alex toes off his sneakers and shrugs off his jacket before steering Willie into his kitchen. He lifts him easily, planting him onto the kitchen counter and letting him talk about what happened exactly, while he busies himself with making tea for both of them.

Willie tells him about the original dare from one of his skater friends Alex tried to talk him out of for days, how his ride down the hill started out okay and then went – well, downhill, quite literally, pretty fast. Alex sucks in a breath when Willie mentions the rock he oversaw and how he smoothly landed in the soft grass, only for his wrist to be at a too awkward an angle to be healthy. One of his friends took him to the hospital and Alex smiled in relief when Willie tells him that the nurses said it wasn’t that bad, just, you know, broken, and his wrist had to stay in a cast for a few weeks. The pain isn’t even that bad, Willie also tells him, and his painkillers aren’t that strong either.

After he hands him a mug and Willie takes a generous sip, Alex steps between his legs, gently lifting Willie's bandaged wrist to look at it closer up. Everything looks perfectly in place, giving Alex not a single think to worry about, apart from the broken bone it covers. He sighs and carefully lets go of the cast, placing his hands on Willie's hips and looking up to meet his gaze.

“You’re an idiot”, he says, but his voice is warm and tender and he doesn’t sound upset in the slightest.

Willie puts his mug down and lifts his arms, laying them on Alex’s shoulders, the fingers of his healthy hand brushing through the hair on the back of his head.

“I know,” he answers and leans down to kiss him, but Alex’s eyes catch something else and he has to pull back a little. He doesn’t give Willie the chance to be confused before his hands come up to the front of his shirt.

“This,” he starts, fiddling with one of the buttons, “bothers me.” He unbuttons it quickly and slips it through the correct hole one further up, before continuing with the ones below.

Willie chuckles slightly, watching Alex’s fingers as he continues to button up his shirt correctly.

“Better,” Alex says eventually and smooths down the fabric over Willie's chest. His hands trail upwards until they settle on Willie's jaw.

“Thanks”, Willie whispers. He leans forward again, finally connecting their lips. Warmth grows around them as they kiss, the smell of green tea and Willie's cologne settling in Alex’s mind, driving him to push further into him, parting his lips slightly. Willie welcomes him, the hand on the back of Alex’s head pulling him closer, before he pulls back the tiniest bit.

“You have to help me wash my hair,” Willie says as they separate and Alex’s head drops to his chest, laughter tumbling from his lips. Willie laughs, too, and for a moment their voices echo through the kitchen.

“I-,“ Alex starts, calming down again, “yes, I will help you wash your hair.” He tugs a strand of hair behind Willie's ear, maybe to prove his point or maybe just because he wants to.

“Thank you,” Willie answers, giving him a last peck on the lips, before pulling his hands back and grabbing his mug again.

They finish their tea quickly, before Willie jumps off the counter and leads Alex into the bathroom.

Alex has stayed over a few times before, so he’s taken the occasional shower here. He’s just never really thought about the amount of hair care products Willie owns, up until the point where he has to use them now.

Willie has sat down in front of the bath, a towel draped over his shoulders, his hair free from his bun and tossed over the edge. Alex is standing next to him, his eyes on the variety of bottles on the ledge.

“Uh, do you want your hair to be voluminous, shiny or moisturized today?” he asks with a confused frown on his face. Willie chuckles next to him.

“Take the blue bottle, that’s my go-to shampoo,” Willie tells him and Alex reaches over to grab it, the label reading ‘for strong and healthy hair – coconut and argan oil’. He flicks the cap open to take a sniff, but doesn’t even have to lift it to his nose before the smell hits him right in the face.

“Oof,” he says immediately, leaning away a little. “How can something that smells so strongly make your hair smell so good?”

Willie turns towards him with a smirk.

“You think my hair smells good?”

Alex feels his cheeks heat up the slightest bit, but he’s not going to get flustered by Willie now.

“Duh. I’d be worried if it didn’t, with the variety of products you have available.” He turns away from him to unhook the shower head from the wall. When he turns back to him, Willie is slowly running a hand through his hair.

“It’s really important to me,” he says softly, twisting a strand around his finger before dropping it.

Alex places the showerhead and the shampoo bottle in the bath, before kneeling down beside him. He places his hand over Willie's on his hair.

“I know,” he says quietly, matching Willie's voice, “and I love it so much.” Willie turns his head to look at him. “Which is why I’m very glad that you trust me with it.”

Willie just smiles at him as an answer and Alex squeezes his hand lightly, before removing it. Willie moves his own hand from his hair to the towel clutched around his shoulders, gripping it a little tighter.

Alex gets up again to turn on the water, struggling a little to turn it so that Willie doesn’t get wet. It doesn’t work immediately; Willie lets out a little squeak as ice-cold water hits him on his bare forearm and he squirms away slightly. Alex angles the water further away from him, hitting himself in the process, and soon they’re both giggling before they even started properly.

After Alex has finally mastered the water situation and waited for it to get to a comfortable temperature, he crouches back down. He adjusts Willie's hair over the edge of the bath and carefully tilts his head a little further back with a hand on his jaw. Willie squirms a little when the water touches his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

“Is it still too cold?” Alex asks nervously, pulling the shower head back and holding his hand under the water again.

“No, I was just surprised,” Willie reassures him. “It’s been a while since someone washed my hair.”

“When was the last time you’ve been to the hairdresser?” Alex asks as he continues wetting Willie's hair, a lot slower and more careful this time.

“Uh, I don’t know. Probably when I was like 13 or something.”

Alex stares at him incredulously. He has been to the hairdresser like four weeks ago.

“What?” Willie asks, turning his head a little, but Alex tilts it back into its original position. “I cut it myself, I don’t trust people with it. And I normally don’t like when people touch my head, it makes me uncomfortable.”

Alex pulls his hand from his hair immediately.

“What?” he says quickly, before Willie can protest. “Why did you never say anything? I’m so sorry.” He now remembers all the times he buried his hands in Willie's hair, casually, when they were kissing or cuddling or –

“Alex, no” Willie cuts in. “I- I don’t like it when other people touch my hair.” One hand leaves the towel still wrapped around his shoulders and settles on Alex knee, squeezing slightly. “I like it when you do it. I really do.” His eyes find Alex’ and he smiles that honest smile that Alex loves so much. “I promise.”

Alex heaves a small sigh and Willie huffs a laugh.

“Okay,” he says, and Willie squeezes his knee again.

They smile at each other one last time, before Alex gets back to wetting Willie's hair. Willie only jumps a little bit, when the water touches his head again and Alex tilts his head back to get to his roots.

“Imma give you the whole hairdresser experience”, he says, as he begins awkwardly scrubbing at Willie's scalp.

“Oh my god, please don’t,” Willie answers, giggling a little.

When Alex is satisfied with the wetness of Willie's hair, he turns the water off and puts the shower head to the side. He picks up the shampoo bottle again, flicks the cap open but holds it a little further away from him than before, as to not be punched in the face by the smell again.

“Oh, come one, it’s not that bad,” Willie comments, grinning at Alex’s reaction.

“It’s just -“, Alex pauses dramatically, “so strong.” He turns the bottle over to squeeze some shampoo into his palm. “What- why is it purple?”

“I don’t know, man, white would be boring.”

“White would be normal”, Alex murmurs as he pours out some more, closing the bottle and putting it aside.

“Hey, you don’t come into a man’s house and insult his shampoo.” Willie turns to look at him and frowns, but the smile on his lips betrays him.

“You do when it’s your boyfriend.” Alex leans down to give him a peck on the cheek. He feels Willie blush underneath his lips, smiling as he leans back.

“So. let’s do this then,” he tells himself as begins to distribute the shampoo in Willie's hair. It foams up pretty quickly, Alex’s fingers working it into the strands, the light purple foam hiding them easily.

It’s an unusual experience for both of them.

The only person’s hair Alex has ever washed, apart from his own, is his younger sister’s, but he couldn’t have been much older than eight when that happened the last time. Willie's hair is longer than hers, too, and although he knows the feeling of it underneath his skin, knows how it acts when he runs his fingers through it, it feels completely different now that it’s wet and soapy.

Willie relaxes more the longer Alex continues his work. His eyes have closed after less than a minute and he’s leaned his head further back, completely pliant under Alex’s hands. Alex watches with a smile as Willie lets out a satisfied sigh.

“I could get used to this,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.

“How long do you have to wear your cast?” Alex pulls his hands away from Willie's head and reaches for the shower head.

“Like four weeks or something.” Willie has opened one eye and is peering at him.

“Then you might get used to it.” Alex gets up to turn on the water and to test its temperature again, washing the shampoo off his hands in the process. When he deems it comfortable, he turns back to Willie, only to see that both his eyes are open now and he’s looking at Alex with his mouth half open.

“What?” he asks, anxious that he’s said the wrong thing or done something embarrassing.

“I love you.”

Alex blinks at him.

“You -“ he starts, but stops again. “What?”

A smile flicks across Willie's face.

“I lo-“ he starts to repeat but Alex interrupts him.

“No. No, you can’t just- you can’t just drop that!“ He pauses. “You- wait,” he cuts himself off, noticing the water still running from the shower head in his hand and he turns, shutting the water off and putting it down. Willie follows every movement until Alex drops to his knees next to him and their eyes lock. “What?”

Willie chuckles. He takes one hand off the towel and takes one of Alex’s, but his hand is still wet and a little slippery, so it doesn’t have the reassuring effect it’s probably supposed to have.

“I love you, Alex”, Willie repeats, his voice heavy with emotion, his thumb brushing over Alex’s knuckles. It takes all of Alex’s willpower not to surge forward and kiss him.

“You-, I-“, Alex doesn’t get much further than that before he has to take a breath. “I love you, too,” he says, but where Willie's voice has been strong and sure, Alex’s is soft and honest. His gaze flicks all over Willie's face, watching his eyes crinkle at the sides and his mouth pull into a smile.

Willie pulls at his hand and Alex understands what he wants, finally leaning forward and kissing him sweetly. His free hand reaches up and settles on the side of his neck, his thumb following his jaw until –

He pulls back earlier than he wants to, but his thumb touches the shampoo foam still in Willie's hair. He lets out a small laugh.

“Willie, you’re – you’re so close to getting shampoo in your eyes,” he says, wiping his soapy thumb on the towel around Willie's shoulders.

Willie laughs and his eyes roll so far upwards that it looks almost comical, trying to spot the shampoo suds slowly trailing down his forehead. Alex moves to get up and starts to pull his hand away from Willie's to start washing his hair out, but he doesn’t get far before Willie pulls at his hand again, very subtly, just to make him turn to him.

“Hey,” he says when their eyes meet. “I love you.”

Alex blushes way too fast, the heat blooming in his cheeks all the way up to his ears.

“I love you, too,” he tells him and squeezes his hand.

It takes another moment before Alex is fully himself again. Checking the water temperature takes much longer, because his hands are too shaky to adjust it as delicately as before.

The smiles don’t leave their faces while Alex washes the shampoo out of Willie’s hair and they still don’t when he applies conditioner and they still don’t when he washes that out too. They stay in a comfortable silence, Alex working carefully, Willie staying relaxed and enjoying the comfort of Alex’s gentle hands on his head.

Alex totally gets why Willie is so attached to his hair. It’s beautiful in every way.

When he has it in a low bun, small strands framing his face, dancing in the soft breeze surrounding him. When it’s left down and flowy, following him steadily as he runs around the park, turning back to Alex, glowing around his head like a halo. When it’s still and wavy, spread out behind him, a stark contrast to the white pillow, Alex playing with its soft strands when they wake up together. And also, when it’s dark and shiny underneath his hands, following the stream of the water, wrapping around his fingers as if on their own, smoother and softer than it has ever been.

It doesn’t take them long to finish and soon Willie is handing Alex a t-shirt – not a towel, they’re bad for hair – to dry it a little. Alex tries not to be too rushed with his motions, ignoring his muscle memory and being much slower and more careful than he would be with his own hair.

“You know, I could probably do that on my own again,” Willie mentions as Alex begins to run a comb through his hair, untangling it strand by strand.

“I know,” Alex says, his eyes meeting Willie's in the mirror for a quick second before going back to his work. “But it’s part of the process.” He catches Willie's smile out of the corner of his eyes.

Actually, neither of them have really stopped smiling for the past few minutes.

“What do you think,” he starts, not looking up this time, “do you want me to braid it?”

He watches Willie breathe in and nod slightly, fiddling with his unbroken wrist to get off one of the hair ties he always carries around.

Alex reaches around Willie, places the comb on the edge of the sink and accepts the tie from him, slipping it onto his own wrist. He separates Willie's hair into three sections. He’s never learned how to french-braid, but he’s sure it’s okay if stays simple. His movements aren’t skilled, but still fluid, the repetitive motion settling in his brain. He ties the braid off at the end, pulling the strands apart a little to fluff it up.

“All done,” he says, running his hand over the back of Willie head one last time, before resting on his shoulders.

Willie catches his gaze in the mirror, smiling brightly, and he turns around, taking Alex’s arms and putting them around his neck. He snakes his own around Alex’s waist, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to the corner of Alex’s mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispers, so close that Alex can feel the words on his skin.

“I love you,” he whispers back, accompanied by a kiss to the top of his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

And then Willie kisses him properly.

#i'm soft for them #it was so much fun to write this #just THEM #willex #willex week #willex week gift exchange #willie nolastname #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #alex jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Callisto (Part Six - Rescue Site)

This fic seems to be taking forever, but I hope it isn’t reading that way. I had so much fun over the weekend and I still have some fun ahead of me writing one of the core scenes I had planned. I hope you are enjoying reading this.

As always, many thanks to the amazing @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 @janetm74 and @vegetacide as well for all the read throughs and support. Wonderful science officer @onereyofstarlight this bit has one of the places we talked about extensively and wouldn’t exist without your help :D

Again, thank you to all the wonderful peeps who have been reading along and commenting despite the once a week posting schedule. You help keep my enthusiasm alive and you have no idea how much I appreciate every word of encouragement ::hugs you all::

Have a Tracy boy or two on the job :D

-o-o-o-

Scott rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch out the tension that was slowly giving him a headache.

At least now they were moving. This rescue felt like it was taking forever.

Hell, it was the same with most space recues, if even more with this one. The distances involved just went on and on and no matter how fast the Thunderbird, it was slow.

It rankled Scott just a little. The fact that the environment could not be influenced by his impatience.

And Dad…

He shunted the thought aside. Perhaps that was why he scorned the time needed. It gave him far too much time to think.

The tunnel stretched out before him as it had for some time now. The life signs were nearly seven hundred kilometres away from Callisto Base. Usually, this was not a problem. There wasn’t a Thunderbird that couldn’t cover that distance in a short period of time. Even Four could do it at velocities no other underwater craft had ever managed.

But this location was at least two kilometres underground, and while the molepod was always an option, Virgil had vetoed it with the option of travelling via dragonfly through the tunnels. Scott had to agree. They needed far more information before barrelling into an unknown situation, not to mention the difficulties of deploying the molepod in these conditions.

But by this point he was almost ready to jump out and blast a hole in the damned moon to get where they needed to go.

Time. So much damned time.

Too much to think.

His hands shifted on the Dragonfly’s controls spinning her into a dive as the tunnel dipped suddenly. The brilliance of the pod’s forward lights lit up the never-ending cave as clear as daylight.

It sparkled back at him in sharp, stabbing needle-like reflections off the walls that did nothing to improve his headache. He had already set his helmet to shade to protect himself. It was ridiculous to be needing sunglasses this far underground.

Behind him, Virgil was following him at a short distance in Dragonfly Two, his lights just bright enough to light up the red of Scott’s pod.

For some irrational reason Scott wanted his pod to be blue.

The blue of the sky he was currently missing.

He sighed.

Again, too much time to think.

“Another five hundred metres.” Alan’s voice from behind him was the reassurance it always was. Why he felt comforted when his littlest brother was nearby and within reach was something he did not want to examine too much.

A twist of his wrists as the tunnel backed around on itself in a hairpin of a turn and he had to dodge another nest of those weird deformed ice stalactite formations sticking out into their path. “What are we looking at?”

“Looks like another cavern. A big one.”

They had flown through several of those enormous caverns on the way out here already. They acted like junctions, some having multiple tunnels converging on them, every single one a home for more ice formations and that damned reflective rock. It had taken John to get them out of the last one. This place was a damned maze.

Virgil had fortunately come prepared, as always. He was leaving a trail of comms-support beacons behind them as a clear path to return to Callisto Base.

Scott fought the urge to duck as the tunnel suddenly shrunk by several metres and took another swerving turn. Scott spun the pod over one-eighty degrees on her longitudinal axis as her wings nearly scraped the ceiling.

Righting them finally, he couldn’t help but check his monitor to make sure Virgil took the turn safely.

He almost smiled as the green pod behind them flipped in a manoeuvre that no doubt had Gordon yelping in the back seat. He couldn’t help but be proud for just a self-indulgent moment.

But his attention was torn away as his pod suddenly shot into a large open space and the light reflecting off the walls suddenly blinded him.

Alan’s gasp behind him only echoed his own.

Their forward lights were being shot at them in blinding brilliance off the ceiling of the new cave.

That brightness only increased as Virgil’s pod spun into a hover beside them.

Oh god.

Whatever had been in the walls of the tunnels was obviously concentrated here.

He redirected the lamps away from the ceiling only to have the brilliance follow them all the way down the closest wall until he was able to turn the pod towards the most distant wall.

Crystal.

There was crystal everywhere.

The cave walls were covered in spikes of the stuff as it they were inside a giant geode. He had to acknowledge that it was stunningly amazing when it wasn’t ripping his eyeballs out.

But that wasn’t what took his breath away.

As their lamps lowered, they caught the edges of something else.

He turned the lights down towards the floor only to discover he couldn’t see it.

Because it was covered in water.

Fluid, liquid water, the dragonflies causing the faintest of ripples to dance across its surface.

A lake.

Scott’s jaw dropped as he tipped the pod to peer down into the dark water only to have more crystal attempt to stab him in the eye from the depths.

“What the hell?”

Water wasn’t supposed to be able to exist in this environment. He poked at his scanners. Atmospheric levels were the same, ever so thin, providing little to no air pressure or heat to keep the water in this state.

“John? What am I seeing?”

Thunderbird Five did not answer immediately, but the data transmission rate on comms doubled as his space brother reached his fingers into the cave through the pod’s sensors.

“Impossible.”

“That was my thought. Virgil?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “Scientific explanation? Gordon?”

“You got me here, bro. But I’m more concerned about those lifesigns.”

Scott frowned and double checked his readout. The two dots registered, glowing strongly at him.

From under the water.

-o-o-o-

Virgil frowned as Scott spun his dragonfly around and returned to the entrance of the cavern. His forward lights lit up only what could be considered a beach where the original tunnel swooped in and connected with the crystal cave. At the base there was only a few scattered crystal formations and Virgil watched as his brother expertly put down without touching a single one.

“Are we going to take a look at the lake?”

Typical. Nearby water body and his fish brother wanted in it.

But Virgil needed more reconnaissance.

And if he was honest with himself, there was just a dash of sightseeing involved. Not much, because of the urgency of the mission, but enough curiosity to send him off on a scout around the cavern.

Crystals that had to be the length of an arm or a leg stuck out from the walls in haphazard directions. Most reflected back clear, but in streaks, as if seeping up a localised mineral, there were ribbons of colour in places – reds, greys, golds, pinks. His scanners spat back that it was simply quartz, silicon dioxide, but he had never seen a formation like this.

Which was understandable as this was an alien landscape with vastly different environs to those of Earth. The artist in him was literally stunned, while the scientist valiantly fought for a reason.

He swooped around the edges of the cavern, his lamps lighting up brilliance as he went. The cave proved to be roughly circular, approximately four hundred metres in diameter and about a hundred metres high. He came across two more tunnels leading off it, but all were as dry as the one they had used to enter the cave. Towards the centre, but not quite, the ceiling arched down and what appeared to be a stalactite met a stalagmite to form a column of swirling crystal that looked like something straight out of an art glass exhibition. The ribbons of colour were here too, but this time mostly in a rose pink and a startling blue.

Virgil didn’t have words.

The light playing among the crystals just touched every artistic sense he had and froze them solid.

But there was a mission and those two glowing red dots glared at him from beneath the surface of the lake.

He ran scans of the water. For it was water, mostly, though, certainly not any he would want to drink.

For one thing it was salty, a definite brine solution with a number of minerals including silica in concentrations that defied as much logic as the water’s existence did in the first place.

The difficulty was that the lifesigns weren’t clear. They were in the water, but resolution faded at a very shallow depth and there was a lot of deep depth in places.

“John, can you get any more resolution on these scans? I can’t pinpoint the lifesigns.”

There was a muttered curse on comms that had Virgil arching an eyebrow. “No, I’m sorry, Virgil. Interference is particularly strong in that cavern. We’re working on it, but I don’t have any great hopes.”

“What about a probe? Would that improve the signal?” Virgil blinked as his headache suddenly flared. Ow. Damn. The controls in front of him blurred a moment. Shit!

But then everything righted itself, just leaving an echo of the pain in his head as the headache droned on as it had before.

Maybe his painkillers were wearing off. A glance at the time proved that was far from the case.

He dreaded to think what that would have felt like without them.

“Virg?”

“What?!” Okay, so he was abrupt, but he was busy.

“Hey, hey, calm down. You didn’t answer John. Just checking on you.”

“Virgil, you there?” John’s voice dripped concern.

Shit.

“Sorry. Just got a headache. Need some sleep.”

“I feel you, bro. Want me to pilot?”

“No. No. I’m fine.” He swallowed bile and mentally shook himself. “John, you were saying?”

He could feel Gordon’s eyes on the back of his neck.

“Probe deployed. Target is Burr Crater, which you are directly under at the moment.”

Virgil’s display reported the probe entering Callisto’s atmosphere. He hoped it would give them enough information to act.

Time was ticking.

He spun the pod around and tried to ignore the rainbow of light that was his forward lamps. The flicker, while beautiful, was doing nothing good for his headache at all.

“You sure you’re okay, Virg?”

He pressed his lips together and considered ignoring the question from Gordon. But he knew if he did, his brother would only worry more.

It was a Tracy trait.

“Let’s just get this mission done. We have people who need saving.”

Gordon’s grunt wasn’t a happy one and the chances of Scott being called in on his headache were increasing by the moment.

“I’m fine, Gordon.” He cut the conversation off by dropping the pod rapidly towards the beach where Scott had climbed out and was walking to the water’s edge. Another spin mid-air and Virgil lowered into a rather delicate landing, keeping the pod’s feet away from the crystal formations sticking out of the rock.

Virgil swallowed again before climbing out of the pod. His boots hit solid but glittering rock, damp in the darkness.

Scott and Alan were standing at the water’s edge staring out at the spectacle that the pod lights lit up.

Gordon clambered out behind Virgil and together they both walked over to stand beside their brothers.

“This is so cool!” Alan was obviously excited.

He said it on external comms and the sound travelled across the cavern only to bounce back in so many perfect ‘ool’s Virgil’s eyes widened.

On the spur of that, as the ‘ool’s slowly faded away, he activated his own external comm and sung a single pure C note.

It came back at him from so many different directions it was like a chorus.

“Oh, wow.”

‘Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow…’ It went on, the faint atmosphere sporting just enough density to carry the sound waves.

“That is something, isn’t it?” Scott’s voice was quiet. “The dragonflies made one hell of a racket. We’re going to have to be careful. Wouldn’t want to set up a harmonic that could bring the roof down on us.”

Virgil was still processing. The thought of playing his piano in this cave was just mind boggling.

“Dad says the Base scientists are having some kind of scientific fit over this place.” A grunt. “I’m more concerned about those two lifesigns.” He paused. “John, any luck with the probe?”

“Unfortunately, no. The interference is just too thick. I can read the water, but very little in it or below it. I’ll keep trying.”

Scott sighed. “Keep us updated. Looks like this will have to be more hands on.” He turned to Gordon. “We need Thunderbird Four.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #callisto

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re-diesirae · 4 years ago

Text

17. Leon

Orchids. Claire could come out with really unexpected things sometimes. She didn't look like the sort of girl that liked flowers, but he found that little fact amusingly adorable. If he could make out something positive about being stranded in there, it was that he was getting to know Claire better.

Guess now I know what flowers I should buy her. Wait, why would I buy her flowers?

"I think it should be safe to go out. The sun must be out now. Let's wait for Chris and the others outside."

"Yeah. Sounds fine to me."

The pair picked up their weapons and headed out of the tower. Their way outside was calm since they found no hostiles in the building. Leon guessed that they needed to "thank" their cannibalistic friend for clearing the place for them.

The fresh air hit them as soon as they had reached the open space. Monsters aside, the place was actually nice. Suddenly, the sound of an aircraft made them look up, right on time to see Chris and company making their triumphant entrance.

"Well, look at that. We've got a welcoming party!" Barry laughed when his feet touched the ground, "What? No music and fireworks?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Barry. Guess we must have forgotten to get them while we were trying to stay alive," Claire replied with a playful smile.

"Ah, you can make up for that later, little Red," he replied with a smile.

"Claire!"

Leon stepped aside to let the siblings have their moment. It was almost funny to see how Chris lifted his sister from the ground to pull her into a choking embrace. The man looked so out of character, but Leon knew that the Redfields had a close relationship, and it was heartwarming to see them interact. It almost erased the terrible weight that had long befallen these siblings.

"God...I was so worried," Chris sighed in relief when he finally put her down.

"I know you were. I am fine, but what the hell happened to your arm? Don't tell me you let one of those B.O.W's get you. How disappointing, my dear brother."

"Never mind. I'll earn your pride later today," Chris snorted, "And in my defense, it got it worse than I did. But for real, are you sure you are alright?"

The older Redfield pushed his sister back to take a look at her. Leon knew the man wouldn't find anything more than scratches and bruises adorning her pale skin. Leon knew that because he, too, had checked her for any obvious injury, but the visible wounds weren't what he was concerned about, but rather the invisible ones. He still wasn't sure about the implications of the concussion.

"I am ok. I just hit my head a little, I think. If you got some painkillers in your first aid kit, I'd gladly make use of them."

Chris looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to rethink it, and instead, he pulled out a small bottle from one of his vest pockets and gave it to her.

"Here, but you'll need to eat something first. Those are a little strong."

"And I since you made the suggestion, I guess you brought me something to eat," Claire winked at him as she picked the bottle.

"Well, I don't imagine your hosts left your food lying around."

"Well, we did find a storage room with some canned food, right, Leon?"

"I must admit we've had a lot of luck this time. I guess Claire is a good luck charm," Leon smiled, and Claire rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for keeping her safe, Leon."

"Hey, I can take care of myself," Claire said, punching his healthy arm.

"I should be thanking her, for keeping me alive." Leon smiled, "there's no need for gratitude. We are all friends, and we help each other as much as we can."

"Yeah, yeah...that's nice. So how about we get that breakfast and finish this mission asap?" Barry complained.

The so-called breakfast consisted of some protein bars. The taste wasn't bad, but it definitely didn't compare with a real breakfast, but with all his years of service, Leon had learned not to be so picky about some things. The bars would fill the physiological need for energy, and they were easy to carry, so they were a practical meal for missions. Leon had grown used to eating them, but he smirked at Claire when the woman made a disgusted face after the first bite.

As they ate the soldier styled breakfast, Chris and Jill had begun the strategy meeting. Chris had brought eight men from B.S.A.A as a backup, without counting the chopper's pilot. Jill, Barry, and he were from the Elite Alpha, and the remaining five belonged to the Alpha team.

"So...studying the blueprint that you send us, there are three possible entrances to the underground facility. From the basement here; the library here or the common room in here." Jill said, pinpointing the spots.

"The information about the essays should be in the Research Center. We should try the common room's entrance," Claire suggested, "It's the most direct way to it and faster. The less time we spend there, the less likely they'll notice us."

"That is if the thing isn't blocked. What worries me now, however, is the condition down there. We don't know what monsters they kept or how dangerous they might be." Jill said, staring at the blueprints." We can guess we'll find at least one of the B.O.W's on the lists that Claire and Leon found, but there might be new specimens that were not listed."

"We'll stick together all the time. I don't want anyone wandering off on his own, understood?" Chris said to his men, " And that goes for you, too, Claire."

"I know, I know. I won't do anything reckless. I promise."

"Right, keep an eye on her, Leon."

"Get ready, everyone. We leave in 5. You two need proper gear. Come here.."

Leon glanced at Claire with a raised brow, and the redhead winked at him. After receiving a generous gift of gear and weapons, Leon finally felt more comfortable.

"That's right...Chris, we heard that you encountered a new type of B.O.W back in Hughesville."

"You don't miss a thing, huh? Guess Leon's friend filled you up already. I can't tell you much, but the creature was vicious and highly hostile. I took quite a lot of ammo and incendiary rounds to give it a scratch, but Barry's grenade put an end to it. B.S.A.A. The clean-up team probably took samples for study. You can ask about it later."

"Yeah, I was just wondering if there was a chance that it was the same strain that we encountered here."

"To tell that truth, I wouldn't be surprised." Chris sighed, shaking his head, "Ok, people. We are heading down. From here on, we are in high-risk terrain so keep your ears and eyes open. One mistake can cost your life or the team's. I'll be at a point along with Jill and Barry; Clemence and Riley, you two be at the sides while Miller, Hunter and Bailey will be at the rear. Leon and Claire, you two are stuck in the middle."

"Seriously, Chris?" Claire asked, crossing her arms, "You can't really think that Leon and I can handle those things, do you?"

"I don't doubt you can, but it's a strategic position. You two have been in harsh conditions for the past three days. I am sure your bodies won't be as sharp. Take it as a chance to rest."

"As if."

Leon chuckled. He put his hand on Claire's shoulder and smiled with a nod. He could understand Chris's reasoning: putting them in the middle would take a little of the weight from them. It didn't mean they could slack off, but at least they could catch a breath until the situation called for action. Claire let out a sigh and patted his hand.

"Ok, guess I'll let it pass."

The team headed to the main room, and, to both Leon's and Claire's disgust, they found the fresh bloodstains on the wooden floor. The man remembered the footage of the security camera they had seen and recalled that this had been the room where they had seen the B.O.W feasting on its prey.

"Well, someone didn't have much luck," Barry growled.

"Yeah, a bunch of Plaga infected locals." Leon replied, "We saw it through the surveillance camera a little before dawn. It was one of the new B.O.W's."

"So they really eat the other infected?" Jill said, perplexed as she walked to the fireplace and tainted around the bricks until she found the control panel. The woman began working to open the door.

"It seems like it is like that."

"That's crazy. I've seen those things killing each other, but cannibalism is a new thing." Barry said, staring at the bloodstain with disgust.

"They have never been very sane, to begin with, or they wouldn't make these damn monsters. Got it." Jill said, pushing back the control panel and stepping back, raising her gun.

"Trust Jill to open any lock," Barry smirked.

"I wasn't the B&E specialist for nothing," Jill winked at him.

The fireplace let out a screech as it pulled back, revealing a large metal door. The red light on the command box turned green, and the doors began to slide open. Their team had their weapons raised in case a monster jumped out of it, but the only thing beyond the door was a small square space: an elevator.

"Clear, let's move." Chris signaled, and they entered the elevator. The door automatically closed once the last man had stepped inside, and soon, it was moving down smoothly.

Leon couldn't help but feel a bit of deja vu. How many elevators heading to monster-filled facilities had he rode before? He had already lost the count. When it came to an abrupt stop, everyone raised their weapons as they watched the doors slowly slide open.

Chris stepped out with Barry. Both men looked around and then motioned them to move out. The place was clean, with no mutants, no zombies, and no living things either. To Leon, however, the stench of death was definitely in the air.

"At least there's light," Claire muttered to him, "Last time I was in a place like this, I could barely see my steps."

"The energy is still up. I guess our friends left in a rush," Jill commented.

"That if they actually left…" Chris commented.

Most of them probably hadn't. Their theory proved right as the group turned to the second corridor. There was blood splattered in the walls, more papers scattered on the floor, and Leon saw Claire bending to pick one.

"What's that?"

"Notes about a test subject, I suppose." She replied, picking another one, "Physiological changes took place two days after the first inoculation. There was no evidence of mental dysfunction yet and mutation seemed suppressed. Administration through multiple dosages showed up effective to inhibit immediate mutation. Anomalies in the blood seem to be a common treatment of the new strain," she read.

Leon looked at the papers, as well, and the blond raised an eyebrow with surprise.

"You know German?" he asked.

"Took a course during college. I work with an international salvation organization. Knowing many languages is useful."

Claire never stopped surprising him.

"These seem to be study records..." Claire said, looking through another bunch of papers.

"So those fuckers actually made a new strain," Barry growled.

"Does it say anything about the virus?" Chris asked.

"No details, I'm afraid. The report is incomplete. Some of the pages are gone, and they used codes."

Chris nodded.

"Ok, there is no need to find the rest of them if we can find the research data from the main computer," Chris said, "Let's get moving. We now know that we have hostiles down here. Stay sharp."

Leon caught Claire's worried look as she looked at her brother. They headed to the Research room, which was a couple of corridors beyond their current position. As they moved, Leon felt uncomfortable about the lack of monsters and the lack of corpses. They had come across a lot of bloodstains that were evidence of slaughter, but so far, they had not encountered the victims nor the attackers. Leon had a glimpse of Chris, and he knew that the older Redfield was having the same train of thought.

"This is the place." Jill said, checking the map, "Biomedical and Biohazard Department. What a name, huh?"

"It has a VIRUS written all over it." Barry mocked.

They entered the room with their weapons raised, but just like the rest of the facility, the place was empty. There weren't bloodstains, so at least they knew that the lab hadn't been the setting of slaughter, unlike other rooms they had passed. For an investigation department, Leon thought that the room looked simple: white walls, a set of computers, and two shelves- one filled with unknown contents and another one filled with files. There was a glass window that opened to what looked like a laboratory. The place was messed-up, but there was no blood in there, either. One of Chris's men, Clement, if he wasn't mistaken, rushed to the computer and began hacking into the system and copying all the information into the memory drive. The rest stood guard in case anything showed up.

The silence was unsettling as the only sound that filled the room was the typing. It felt unnatural, and it gave Leon the sensation that something was watching him, lurking in the shadows and waiting for its chance to strike. He saw Claire standing in front of the shelves; she was flipping the pages of one of the folders.

"Found something interesting?"

"You could say so. It seems like they were trying to make a new virus from multiple pathogens. These are viral genomes, but these are bacterial genes..."

"Why doesn't it sound new to me?"

"Yeah, I guess you must be sick of hearing it, right?"

Leon pulled out one of the folders and flipped it open. What he found inside wasn't a nice view. The first page had a picture of a woman with blonde curly hair and green eyes. Her skin was sickly pale, and her look lacked life; right next to the photo, Leon read the word FAILED.

Name: Marishka Sekinova, Subject CD:05X345

Treatment: Isolation BS-0314

Observations: patient showed fever in the first 3h after the inoculation followed by signs of mental degeneration that included symptoms similar to dementia. 48h after, she showed signs of mutation: epidermis began to degrade; muscular tissue was elongated, and the apparition of tumors in multiple parts of the body, which developed at an extremely high speed. 72h later, the mutation had extended to all the body, leaving the subject unrecognizable; signs of erratic behavior and high hostility began to appear. The subject had to be put into a reinforced isolation room to continue the monitoring, 96h later, the subject's vitality began to fall, and its body parts began to decay in a phenomenon that we've named "Rotting". The subject was found dead at 17:46 pm on July, 11th.

The file ended with a set of horrible looking pictures that showed up the evolution of the woman, so the photos went from pretty bad to horribly bad.

"Poor woman. These people really don't understand the term Bioethics. " Claire said sadly, "They have the files coded by colors: those white folders are Failed subjects, and the color tags must be the virus they were testing. Check what I found."

Claire handed him a folder. He flipped it open and just like the other file, the front page had a picture attached, this time it was the photograph of a woman with black hair, but instead of FAILED, the words: TO IMPROVE, were written. He turned the page and, like before, he found a set of pictures, but his eyes suddenly stuck in the last one.

"It's...the thing that attacked us."

"Yeah, or at least a primitive version of it, but look what it says. According to this, the mutation caused them to be photosensitive. That explains why they only come out at night time."

"Just like monsters from a nightmare, huh?"

"Yeah…"

The lights in from the ceiling flickered, and he saw Claire lookup with a frown.

"Did you...hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?" he replied. Leon was puzzled. He hadn't heard anything.

Claire did not reply as she stared back at the ceiling.

"It's done. I've copied all the files from the system captain." Clement said, breaking the silence.

"Good, time to get the hell out of here. Don't let your guard down yet. We still don't know if there's anything ready to attack us out there."

"Yes, Captain!"

Claire pushed the folder back into the shelf and turned to Leon.

"Time for this nightmare to end…" he said, and she smiled.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

#my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #Resident Evil #claire redfield #Cleon #claire x leon #leon s kennedy #leon x claire

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago

Text

Blackout (Edward Nygma x Reader)

WARNING: Mental Illness themes and mentions are strong throughout. Death!

"(Y/N)?" A nurse with a shrill voice said making you flinch and turn to face her. She was smiling, one that was rather malicious. That made you nervous as to what was her next words would be. "Doctor Strange wants to see you. I believe he has a new treatment for you." Your blood ran cold before draining from your face.

Just about every patient at Arkham has figured out that those who catch Dr Strange's attention either never returned or were never the same. You felt pairs of eyes on you, some over hearing, just by the very mention of his name got everyone's attention. It was like being in a slaughter house and you had no doubt that such an environment wasn't helping your mental state.

"No..." You said quietly, curling into yourself slightly as though it would change her mind. "Come now, (Y/N), you've been so good this past week. Don't you want to get better?" The nurse moved a hand to your shoulders, her grip tight but not painful. "It won't be long. By the time you're done, it'll be time for dinner. That's very soon." You still didn't budge. The nurse's demeanor changed ever so slightly, a bit of aggravation tugging at her. "(Y/N), do you really want to undo all of the hard work you've done and lose day time privileges? You'll risk solitary confinement and things will be a lot more difficult for you. This treatment is happening whether you like it or not!" You knew you couldn't push any further and so slowly you stood up and the nurses attitude changed to the once again pleasant nurse who gently guided you. Before she could nudge you out the door, you halted turning back to look at the other inmates within the cafeteria. "They're not going anywhere." The nurse assured you with another soft tug. You complied.

"What's with that one again?" Edward raised an eyebrow watching just like everyone else had as you left the room. "Well they don’t know, they have many theories but there's always something else that’s unexplained." Jonathan said smoothly. "Something else?" Edward raised an eyebrow. "They are aware of everyone's surroundings, better than ordinary." Jonathan explained. "What?" Two-Face furrowed his brow and Jonathan sighed. "Think of Arkham as a doll house and every person is a doll, (Y/N) knows what everyone is doing, what's happening even when they aren't there, a spectator to real life." "How can someone know what's happening when they aren't there?" Harvey pressed. "Well...security cameras if they had access but that's the point, how can someone know what's happening if they aren't there?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Oh I get it!" Harley suddenly spoke up. "They don't! They imagine it!" Jonathan gestured to Harley sending a pointed look to Two-Face. "So they daydream? That's it?" Two-Face said gruffly. "No, Harv! They stare at everyone, watching us all day long so they predict what we would do and where we'd go!" Harley continued. Two-face shook his head. "They say I'm crazy." "Crazy... or smart, smarter than many of the crazies in here." Jonathan responded. "I personally would say they're in a better position than most of these meat heads." Edward said. "Wow, complimenting someone other than yourself Edward? Looks like your treatment is working." Jonathan smirked. Edward scoffed. "Hardly! It's not difficult to outsmart these dimwitted goons. It's not even a challenge! If anything they've barely proven that they've got more than one braincell!" Jonathan sighed in response but Edward continued. "Besides, I would know, I'm the smartest man in Gotham! If not the whole world." "Oh clam it, bozo!" Harley rolled her eyes. "Now, now Harley...the clown many be in solitary but keep your cool." Jonathan said smoothly. "So I can sit here I listen to the cucumber spout Riddles and call me a dumb broad!?" "No one is calling you such things Harley." Jonathan responded all the whilst Edward gawked. "Cucumber!? Seriously!?" "Hey! Check the facts yourself, you wear green, your green with jealousy half the time when Batman is around and you’re made of mostly water! Now who's the dumb broad!?" "Harley, again, no one is calling you that. No one doubts your intelligence, we only doubt how willing you are to use it." Jonathan finished. Harley huffed.

You hurriedly looked around the room to find nothing out of place, the walls dirty and barely resembling the white painted walls. They hadn't been cleaned in at least a decade, grime filling every corner as well the random stains that likely had a grotesque story behind each one. No doubt the asylum blamed all of this on a lack of funding rather than admitting to Gotham city that the asylum isn't fit for purpose and hasn't been for years.

Dr Strange sat at a steel table in the middle of the room that was big enough for two people to work at either side. A bulb hung down from the ceiling which no doubt would explode any given moment just to add to the worn down Arkham aesthetic. "Ah, finally we meet at last." Strange's voice gave you the chills. You didn't look in his eyes, keeping them on your now seated lap. "Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), yes?" You nodded. "I'm told you have been very well behaved over the week. You've been working on social boundaries of sorts, yes?" "Do you mean not spying on people?" You asked. "Is that what you'd call it?" "No. It's what the nurses call it." You retorted. "I understand you were in some trouble when you broke in-" Dr Strange began but didn’t get to finish. "I didn't break in." You interrupted. "The door was open and I didn't break anything." "Yes, you left everything untouched, but nevertheless, you know you can't be in the security room. What were you looking for?" Dr Strange asked. "You know that." You retorted. "I need to hear it from you." Strange pressed. " I wanted to see the security cameras." "Why?" "So I could see what people were doing." You said flatly. "Do you know why you care so much?" Slowly, you shook your head. "That's your job though, right? Your job is to help me figure that out and move on?" You replied. He seemed to think about this statement momentarily. "Indeed. For now though, we are working towards really understanding your mind to get an idea of a diagnosis. I see in your file that there is mentions of multiple possible disorders?" You shrugged slightly. "Although this wasn't confirmed due to your...obsession." Dr Strange finished. "Is that what they call it?" You asked lightly. "No." Doctor Strange said flatly. "That's what I call it." Finally you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. "Dr Arkham missed the 'g' in 'diagnosis'." Strange looked at the file in his hand to realise there was that typo but wasn't certain how you could have seen it at such an angle. "Now, let's see about these blackouts." He began.

Dinner had come and gone and you hadn't returned, not that it surprised anyone at all. The expectation was that if you did return, you were lucky. Even if you had completely lost your mind.

At ten thirty, the lights were always out, other than the very dim ceiling lights that were solely for staff to maneuver in and out of the corridors without disturbing the patients. Despite lights going out at ten every week night (and at ten thirty on weekends), patients didn't actually go to sleep at that time. The staff didn't seem to care, as long as they were in their cells. That made the routine rather redundant in terms of creating a daily routine for the patients. So ten thirty rolled around and a nurse was pushing a patient on a wheelchair, seemingly back to their cell.

Harley wanted to have a look and recognised the patient. It was you, slumped over yourself and unmoving. Harley kept quiet, watching intently as you were wheeled past her cell. You were a lucky one. You had made it back here in the end.

You woke up the next morning with a very bad headache. It reminded you of your blackouts but judging by your 'treatment' that was likely the cause. Your limbs felt heavy, your brain working on empty. There was many times that you stumbled over yourself on the way to the cafeteria. The same nurse from yesterday was in charge and awaiting your arrival as she moved her attention from Harvey Dent to you. She immediately tugged you to sit next to Jervis Tetch. Across from you sat Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent. You jumped slightly when Harleen Quinzell no so gracefully sat beside you. However the nurse kept your attention in her with a wide almost menacing grin. "Good morning, (Y/N)!" She said brightly. "How are you feeling today?" She was too happy and by far too loud. Her voice grated against your ears, making you wince though the pain if your pounding headache. "My brain has exploded and my heart is racing like a train." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. "Oh is that so? Well, I'll get you some painkillers for that head whilst you have breakfast. How does that sound?" You grumbled with a nod, anything to get her to stop talking.

As she walked away, you rubbed your aching temples, eager for some kind of relief. "Oatmeal and toast, it seems to be today...as usual." Harvey grumbled. "My puddin' still ain't here!" Harley scowled, making you wince slightly. "Hey, do that one a favour and don't make such a fuss." Harvey gestured to you, sending Harley a look. "Give it a rest for today won't you?" Harley rolled her eyes. "Fine!" She turned to look at you with a sweet smile. "Sorry, dollface!" You nodded. "Don't worry about it, Harley." You groaned, putting your head on the cold table. "That bad, hm?" Two-Face asked. "I don't even remember what happened." You grumbled against the table. "My hands hurt. My head hurts...everything hurts." The nurse caught Jonathan's eye, she was briskly approaching that sadistic grin still on her face. "Well, your saviour and your hell is approaching. Someone actually did get you something after all." Jonathan nudged your side. You groaned. "Maybe it's rat poison." "It's pills by the look of it." "Arsenic then." "Here you are, (Y/N) dear. For all of your cooperation last night and as well as your behaviour." You picked up the glass of water in front of you as she handed you two pills. You cast a quick glance at Jonathan who was also looking back at you. "C'mon arsenic." You mumbled, popping them in your mouth. Jonathan smirked. He understood, you weren't the only one who thought Arkham Asylum was worse than death and hell combined. The nurse grabbed your jaw, opening your mouth and making sure the pills were gone before she left you alone. "Why wouldn't I take the painkillers if I'm in agony?" You asked dumbfounded. Jonathan shrugged. "Probably checking you still have that initiative." Two-Face smirked.

As trays of oatmeal were given out, you couldn't help but notice that whilst you had been sat with this particular group, one of them were missing. "Where's Edward?" You asked. "He's usually one of the firsts to get here." "He was put in solitary confinement." Jonathan said, making a look of disgust at the greyish, blob on his plate. "Solitary confinement? Why?" You asked. Two-Face shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe riddled one of the docs to death." He snickered. "He was taken for his own treatment, going crazy!" Harley grinned at the fond memory. "After some time, you were brought back to your cell and minutes later he was covered in blood and being almost dragged to Solitary Confinement." Harley explained.

You couldn't help but notice that during this time, Jervis hadn't looked up from his lap, not even so much as glanced at his food. Although you had been around long enough to know that Jervis had some days like this. Perhaps running around in wonderland in his mind. You turned back to Harley. "Blood?" "Yeah, news has it that two guards were killed a few rooms down. I say good on him. No idea he had it in him! " Two-face responded. "Damn...and I missed it." You said eyes wide. "You were out like a light when I saw ya!" Harley giggled. "You could have been that bozo's puppet and never had a clue!" "Who's?" You frowned. "The-The puppet guy! Y'know, talks through that puppet. Scar-face? Damn what's his name!?" "Arnold Wesker." Jonathan replied. "Yeah, him!" Harley said excitedly. You turned to the other side of the room.

You'd seen Arnold Wesker a couple of times but never actually spoken to him. Across from him was someone you were had spoken to many times. Peter Merkel Jr. Also known as Rag Doll. He was mostly known for being triple jointed, a contortionist. Well...rumour had it that being triple jointed ran in his family. A trait he didn't inherit and in the end, he supposedly had many life-threatening surgeries to allow his joints to move in inhuman ways. He could actually be a decent funny guy...once you got past his creepy communication skills. You turned back to the group around you.

"Group therapy today, shit I forgot." Two-Face said suddenly. "How could you ever forget such a momentous occasion?" Jonathan said sarcastically. "It's you, me and (Y/N) in this one. If Edward is there, who knows. Don't know about who the others will be though."

As each patient was situated in a seat within the circle of chairs, a guard approached you. "Hands out." He commanded gruffly as he took out hand cuffs. "Are you kidding me? For what?" You nodded to the cuffs as Dr Vern approached. He was one of the more patient and less brutal doctors who seemed to actually somewhat want to help patients, rather than torture them. Since observing that many times, you learned to somewhat trust him. Especially since he had treated you a couple of times and actually considered you a person. "It's just a precaution due to your therapy last night, (Y/N). I can assure you, it's nothing to worry about, they'll be off as soon as the session is over." He put a hand on your shoulder and you looked uncertain before showing your hands and wrists. You noticed Edward was getting the same treatment, looks like he made it out of isolation after all, even if it's only for a brief time. Although he was cuffed because he was in isolation and therefore deemed just as unpredictable.

Dr Vern sat on the opposite side of you and at the top of the circle. "Alright..." He hummed to himself as other inmates began to settle, whilst he looked at his clipboard. "...we have Arnold Wesker, Peter Merkel Jr, Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent, (Y/N) (L/N), Jonathan Crane, Victor Zsasz ...Jane Doe and last but not least, Roman Sionis." He looked over everyone with a small smile. "How is everyone today?" "Is that a legitimate question?" Edward huffed. "Of course, it is. It's the whole point of these sessions." Dr Vern responded. "Honesty is encouraged, there is no wrong answers." "Well then, I've felt like crap all day and to top it off, I'm now handcuffed." You grumbled. "I know, (Y/N). As I said, it's only a precaution whilst we wait to see if your treatment worked. Please don't take this as a punishment, you've been doing so well as of lately." Dr Vern turned to his right. "Roman, how are we doing today?" "Everyone is wearing their masks today." Roman responded quietly, as though distracted, not entirely present in the room. "You've been keeping to yourself, more frequently lately. Are you feeling okay?" Dr Vern pressed. "Yes, doc. In truth there is nothing new with me. Although that shouldn't be a surprise when it's clear that I am not insane." "Yes, so you've said but unfortunately your results say otherwise. Psychosis, remember?" Dr Vern responded. Roman grumbled. "Whatever." "Forgive me, Doctor but I can't help but notice Jane is here." Edward narrowed his gaze on the masked woman across from him. "We all know she doesn't respond as herself and hasn't said a word since she's got here. So pray tell, why exactly is she in a group therapy session where the whole point is to talk?" Jane continued to look down at her lap as though she hadn't heard anything. Her mask covered her entire head. She had two, that were known, this one was Arkham's 'finest'- hardly of her collection. Accommodations were made for her after discovering she tended to become violent and otherwise catatonic without a mask. So whilst she was usually in a straight jacket, they kept the mask on, she was more cooperative with it. Arkham figures it would be a process that eventually shed no longer need the mask. You begged to differ. You were willing to bet that it's simply Arkham giving her exactly what she wants. She was good like that, you admired it. "Jane is more than welcome to these sessions, Edward." Dr Vern responded, almost scolding in his tone. "She is more than welcome to break her silence at any time and if being here encourages her then she'll have overcome a great milestone. Leave her be." Edward rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Dr Vern looked towards Peter Merkel Jr, who wore a ghost of a smile on his face, all the while, his eyes wide. "Hello Peter, I haven't seen you in a while. How are you doing today?" Peters head flopped to Dr Verbs direction. "Hello, Dr Vern. I am doing just fine." His tone dripped in sarcasm. "I assume you are still in a lot of pain. Have you received those ointments today?" Peter hummed, rolling his shoulders further back than should be humanly possible. Then again, Merkel went through a lot of surgeries to make sure of that. "Yes, but only recently." "Ah, I see. Well, I'm certain you'll begin to feel better soon. What have you been doing since I last saw you?" Dr Vern asked. Peter hummed again. "Nothing. Staying in my cell. If not there-" Peters head snapped to look at you with his wide eyed smile. "- I've spent most of my time with (Y/N)." "I see. Are you two friends?" Dr Vern asked looking between you both. You shrugged. Peter responded. "Sure. Something like that. They are very intriguing." Dr Vern nodded as he scribbled on the clipboard, immediately you tried to see what he was writing, the cuffs making a clang.

It was like an impulse, you had to know what he had written. Whilst you were excellent at keeping secrets, things went south if you were kept in the dark about anything, even the tiniest of details. Peter's grin widened in amusement and Dr Vern looked up at you. "It's alright, (Y/N). I'm just noting down what Peter has said. It's good progress for the both of you. If you two don't mind, might I ask Peter a question about this new friendship?" Your eyes narrowed but sat back on your chair whilst Peter agreed. "Peter, I hope you're encouraging (Y/N) to continue this good behaviour and not reduce it." Peter cackled. "That is your job, Doctor! I neither encourage one or the other. They appreciate my talents and I appreciate theirs." Doctor Vern didn't seem to like that answer much but continued. "(Y/N), why don't we move on to you? We have a lot to talk about." Dr Vern leaned forward in his chair. "You say you weren't feeling well this morning?" "Yes." You responded simply, shifting your wrists in the cuffs. "Describe it to me." Your face contorted as though remembering something suddenly. "What time is it?" Dr Vern caught on immediately. "I'll tell you after today's session, (Y/N). That's not important right now." "Yes, it is. I need to know." You insisted with slight panic. "No, you don't." Doctor Vern responded. "There's no need to be anxious, (Y/N). It's not necessary." "It is to me. You-you know that." You said shakily, fidgeting. "I'll strike you a deal, hold off for as long as you can, I guarantee by the end of the session you will know the time." Dr Vern responded. The distress was sudden upon your face, as you shifted against your cuffs. "Looks like the doc is gonna make them cry." Two-Face smirked. Dr Vern ignored him as your knees bounced with anxiety, looking almost uncontrollable. "(Y/N), focus of me." Dr Vern said soothingly. "I know why you want to know. The treatment has had you a little foggy and you've remembered about others outside of this room. You're trying to pin point where they are what they could possibly be doing. That's why you want to know the time. I promise you, you're stronger than the urge to know. You've not known all morning and everything is fine. Push through this urge." "Oh, now I get it." Jonathan thought aloud. "Put some volts in them and who knows what else you did to them last night and then torture them now. Very helpful indeed, doctor." "Jonathan, that's enough." Dr Vern looked at Jonathan. "You're agitating them." "Of course, they're agitated!" Edward said loudly with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think you'd take it easy on them after all that but no let's push them and wonder why they lash out! Morons!" "Both of you. Enough." Dr Vern said sternly. "You're encouraging them whilst I am trying to reason with them."

Suddenly, your shaking stopped. You leaned back into your chair once more, oddly stoic. The shift was most definitely noticed by everyone in the room. "What's going on!?" Scar-Face snapped. "This'll be good." Two-Face smirked whilst Peter giggled with glee, eyes wide and unblinking. "It's between eleven and twelve. We haven't had lunch yet. Group therapy always happens at that time." You said quickly, answering your previous question. Dr Vern blinked with unease. "Alright, good. You've got your answer, now lets-" Suddenly, you spoke again, staring at nothing whilst your words came out rapidly."If it's eleven fifteen- the nurses will be going for their coffee break. Nurse Jill will be sneaking away with William Dean, the guard for the other ward probably for a quickie in the closet. If it's eleven thirty, Nurse Gillian will be preparing the next round of meds and wondering just where the hell Nurse Jill went." "Stop it." Dr Vern said quickly. Jonathan and Edward couldn't help but smirk at you but you didn't seem to notice anyone, lost in your own head. “If it's eleven forty-five, Nurse Jill will be hurrying back to her post before Doctor Strange leaves his office to head for the staff room for his own coffee. No milk, no sugar. Then he'll take a detour for the cameras, have a look at what we're all doing whilst Dr Vern rounds up today's group session, before Edward and I get the cuffs removed, we'll all be led to the cafeteria. Then Dr Vern will call his wife, and not get an answer, especially when his erratic patient reveals that his precious Sandra has been sleeping with the neighbour, fourteen blocks away. No doubt he'll rush home because he can't ignore what his patient said-" "(Y/N), enough!" Dr Vern snapped in anger whilst you finished your sentence "-even though he'll lose his temper at his patient." You finished in unison with Dr Vern's outburst.

After a moment of silence, Dr Vern finally spoke. "You know where I live?" You smiled simply. "Of course. The security room isn't the only place I can get into. Dr Arkham's files are more than interesting to read. Although I'm certain he has just as many mental issues as the rest of us." "You've been sneaking in there too? Where the Asylum's files are kept?" Dr Vern asked. "Would you like to know the combinations for the locks?" You asked lightly. "You're asking for isolation, (Y/N)." He earned in response. "Am I? It says on your clipboard that I only get isolation if I black out." You shrugged. "I am perfectly conscious. Whilst I'm at it, that is not how you spell my last name." You said flatly. "See? Fun." Peter grinned at Victor Zsasz. "Now how about you don't put a recommendation in for another one of those nasty therapy you wrote down next to my name. My head is foggy as it is and I don't want to be a vegetable." You wagered. "So you can see what I've written?" Dr Vern stared you down. You smiled. "First, you can spell my name right, then you can score out that recommendation and then you can stop pressing me about every little thing I do or else I will do a lot more than prove how much I know. I'll also prove how I can use all of that really screw up your life." Dr Vern's eyes narrowed on you. "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means, your life wouldn't be the first persons I've ruined. My family tries to keep that quiet, pay off anyone who will speak out but not even they weren't safe in the end." Dr Vern was quiet for a moment. "You were doing so well, (Y/N). We had really really hoped you wouldn't ruin all this good behaviour. So is this what you were doing last night? Spying with the security camera's again when you were supposed to be in bed?" Your face changed to confusion. "What?" "You were found out of bed with Mr Nygma last night. Have you been pretending all this time?" "I wasn't out of bed." You glared. "Ignore him, (Y/N)." Edward spoke up. "What do you mean I was out of bed!?" You glowered. "(Y/N), leave it." Jonathan said quieter. "No!" You said sharply. "You've already asked me about the incident and I told you what happened!" Edward glared at Dr Vern, ignoring your protest. "What happened!?" You snapped. "You and Nygma were found covered in blood last night." Dr Vern responded looking between the two of you, his pleasant demeanor long gone. "Two staff members were killed in that very room you were found in." "They deserved it!" Edward snapped. "They were hurting them!" "You expect anyone to believe that you defended (Y/N) and effectively killed those two people when you've shown almost no interest in (Y/N) before?" Dr Vern asked lightly. To his surprise, Jonathan responded. "I do. Your staff members are deplorable. I speak through experience on both ends. I think (Y/N) to be very lucky Edward was there." "Too right!" Harvey agreed. "The shit that goes down in this place is downright evil and that's coming from us!" Edward's jaw clenched. "Besides, (Y/N) was in an absolute state after that so-called ‘therapy’. They were wandering around and those two guards were going to take advantage of that. I would know since they were supposed to take me to my 'treatment' and suddenly (Y/N) wanders by and the things those men were saying... disgusting! I intervened the moment I saw that (Y/N) was beyond confused and dazed and instead growing distressed!" "Forgive me, doctor." Roman spoke up. "Isn't it Arkham's finest of staff's job to ensure the safety of all patients?" "Of course, it simply adds to the poor reputation of this place that they simply do not. So much so that other patients have to step in." Jonathan responded with a smirk. Your gaze was locked into Edward as you struggled to believe the story.

He was narcissistic at the very least and didn't spent much time on you. Edward Nygma just didn't strike you as the saving type and you would have known if that was the case.

You were waiting for Edward at this point to come out of isolation. You had asked almost every one Edward spoke to in the asylum. No one seemed to know anything and even confirmed your suspicions, Edward wouldn't just jump in to save an inmate but for whatever reason Edward had to lie, they'd support it.

When Edward got out of isolation it was like a tease, you barely saw him, Arkham staff doing it's best to keep you apart. However whilst this was irritating, it got to a whole new level when Edward’s associates seemed to know exactly what had happened and weren't willing to share. Just the thought made you tremble, that Edward and his friends knew what really happened that night...and you didn't have a clue.

You usually had taken satisfaction when Dr Vern handed in his resignation, he had to now that he knew how much you knew about his life. However, you noticed how disheveled he was and it dawned on you he must have confronted his wife. Dr Vern couldn't ignore such accusations, you knew that. It would have chewed away at him but you didn't get to enjoy the satisfaction. Not even when he glanced at you with unease when quitting. You couldn't enjoy it because your own thoughts were chewing away at you. You needed to know what happened that night and the longer you didn't get answers, the more drastic measures you'd take.

By Saturday morning, you couldn't take it anymore. Perhaps it was a lack of sleep, or indigestion...or it was the question that had been tearing you apart for days. You knew you'd have to force Edward to talk. He was incredibly intelligent, he didn't slip up or give things away like the others did and in that moment, it simply drove you mad.

When Edward locked eyes with you, his stomach dropped. To put it simply, you didn't look well. Clearly you hadn't been sleeping, there were dark circles under your eyes and you slightly curled into yourself, as though barely having the strength to hold your body up. Edward also couldn't help but wonder if you had been eating. From what he had seen you were in a foul mood, nearly getting yourself isolation multiple times. Each time Edward, Jonathan and Two-Face got you out of it.

"Alright (Y/N), you can calm down now. Jervis picked up your book by mistake." Edward had said once, sliding the book towards you before you could get into serious trouble with the nurses. It seemed to distract the nurse more than it did you and his action, yet again caught you off guard.

The second time he set off Harley, distracting the nurses, all because he insulted the joker who had still not gotten out of isolation.

Your piercing stare could have surely killed him if he hadn't been across the room. He knew immediately that you were hitting your breaking point and so when you stormed off, he followed.

You led him to an empty lab. A lab with no camera. That left Edward on edge but held onto the fact that you were still very much coherent. The empty glazed over look in your eyes like that night was far away. "Do you know that I killed two people in a blackout once?" You asked, your back still towards him. "Yes." Edward responded.

Many Arkham patients had murdered. So much so that two was virtually nothing in comparison to the number that many inmates had, Edward included. "Do you remember when I first got here?" You asked. "Yes. You weren't responsive for four days. The one that got you to break your silence was Dr Vern." You were impressed although not so surprised that Edward knew so much. Of course he knew. "I couldn't believe what I had done. When they told me my father and stepmother were..." You looked over your shoulder. "They put me in here, undiagnosed as well as not knowing a motive as to why I'd ever murder my father and the one woman who had been the closest thing to a mother I had ever had." You blinked back a memory. "I don't know why they painted such a picture that those two were so wonderful. They weren't." "Reporters and the justice system love their innocents." Edward replied in disdain. "My parents weren't innocent. If the GCPD looked a little further. They'd have known the motive." You finally turned to face him. "Why?" Edward asked. "Because they deserved each other." You responded icily. "They were committing fraud, wanting the extra money and expected me to play along regardless of how nice they were to me. They began to put their problems on me, expecting me to fix them. They never thought about what that could to do their kid." You swallowed. "Every mistake they made, I was blamed. To the GCPD I was a difficult child, it wasn't that my step-mother was trying to steal multiple bottles of alcohol and convinced me to carry them in my bag. Every single time, my parents chose each other, every time it was at my expense and I never got even as much of an apology. That's what I was there for. To hide their mistakes, I was to play the problem. So I accepted that. I accepted this is what they wanted, what they deserved. It hadn't been the first black out I had but it was the most brutal. Their bodies were side by side." Your gaze met Edwards eyes. "I couldn't forgive myself when I found out what I had done. I didn't speak a word after that, not until that day after some time here. Dr Vern was the first, as you said. Look where that got him." You couldn't help but smirk. "I actually liked the guy but, I knew where his loyalties lie." Your smirk vanished, your brow creasing. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I don't know what happened that night Edward but you do and you lied to Vern, you lied to Strange and you're lying to me. You're getting your friends to do it too." "(Y/N)-" You cut Edward off. "No!" You said sharply. "I want the truth. I need it. You're going to give me the truth."

Edward stayed silent. "Damn it, Edward!" You snapped, digging into a drawer behind you before pulling out a very large syringe. "Don't do this." Edward said lowly. His hands raising slightly to calm you. "You know something I don't!" You snapped. He thought this over. "I know many things you don't." "You know what I mean!" You yelled. "You didn't care before. Why now? What changed? Are you using me?" "No...no, I'm not." Edward said. "Then what is it!?" You cried. "Put that down and I'll tell you." Ed nodded to the syringe in your hand. You looked at the syringe before back at him as he hesitantly took a step closer. "Give me the syringe and I'll tell you." "You won't lie?" Edward shook his head. "I have no reason to."

After a couple of seconds you dropped the syringe and it clattered to the floor. Edward immediately lunged, taking your hands and pulling you into his arms. You gasped, panic setting in. The Riddler was one of the most dangerous people in Gotham and he could kill you in a heartbeat. Although it took you a moment to realise that he was simply holding you to him, almost like an embrace. A quiet voice, almost a whimper escaped him. "They were hurting me." He began and you heard a slight quiver in his voice. "They were hurting me and you helped me. I know you don't remember that night but I do."

Edwards plans for the night didn't include electric shock therapy. Regardless if it was Arkham's so he kicked and screamed creating a fuss along the way. The more he struggled, the more assistance was needed. He had even caused a few other patients to cry out from their cells, a minor but pestering bother for Arkham staff.

By the time they reached the room with the chair, the guards had enough and immediately surrounded him for a beat down. Edward curled into a ball, covering his head and ribs as much as he could as doctors and nurses hurried away from the room. Typical.

Suddenly there was a yelp that didn’t come from Edward, everyone seemed to freeze, Edward looking up to see what had happened. One of the guards were stunned, frozen in shock, staring at the other guard who looked horrified. In his neck was a syringe of what was previously a sedative for Edward. The thumb pressed down, plunge the contents into his neck. A laboured breath escaped the guard before he fell to the ground before Edward, who was slightly alarmed and wondering just how strong that sedative was, if it even was that. The hand had been yours, eyes glazed over and very still.

Without warning, as soon as your eyes locked on the other guard, you lunged towards him. He had no time to process what had happened or even prepare himself for the attack. He fell to the ground, you on top as you ferociously beat his face with your hands. Your strength was astounding and it was the clearly why you were such a threat. You were like an deranged animal, it wasn’t enough even when he was out cold. Edward wasn’t even sure if the guard was still alive. However, you moved onto the next guard just as quickly. Perhaps you hadn't noticed him.

He stood corrected when you halted your attack and turned your sights on him. Slowly he stood up, wincing at the pain in his ribs. You followed suit, your eyes still wide and empty. Slowly you moved forward. Edward went to move back but something blocked his path. He felt panic run through him but did his best not to show it. Something he often did with the Bat. Although you didn't lunge, as a matter of fact you were incredibly slow.

You seemed to notice his pain. Edward stiffened as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. You were so gentle he didn’t even entirely feel the hug. He looked down at you, your head resting against his chest. You were looking at the ground as though feeling guilt. In that moment, Edward took charge. ”Give me your hands.” He said quickly. He did his best to wipe the blood from your hands and onto his own as well as his arms. Edward always did have a soft spot for you. He never allowed it to show but he couldn't deny it to himself that it was there. So in the moment you had saved his life, he knew he had to protect you. No one had ever helped him yet you had, whether it was consciously or not didn't matter. If he didn't do something you'd wake up in isolation with possibly even more deaths.

Edward knew you better than you thought, killing wasn't something you were proud of. You didn't want to add more to the list. So maybe in this way, he was protecting you just as you had protected him. Edward also noticed something that seemed to trigger your violent tendencies. It was violence itself. If you witnessed it, it seemed to drive you to be violent to the point of deadly. So he took the fall for it and eventually, they seemed to buy his story and take you back to your room. Throughout all that time, you didn't speak a word and the next morning you didn't remember a thing. Just as suspected.

"I couldn't tell you." He said, looking into your eyes. You had never seen him so vulnerable. "I couldn't risk Strange finding out. It was better for you if everyone thought it was me." "Why? Why protect me?" You asked. "Because you protected me...such a thing is very hard to find in Gotham." "I...I killed those people." You whispered and Edward nodded. "You saved my life." He corrected.

#batman #gotham #the riddler #edward nygma #arkham #arkham asylum #one shot #oneshot #warning

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

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Reluctantly Rooming: Part Seven

Link to Masterpost

Guys, I loved this prompt! Please feel free to keep sending them my way!

Today’s prompt:

"Shut up, you don't know what it's like to have your body attack you every month" for Aelin on her period please?????

~*~*~

Two weeks after she had broken her ankle, and on the very first day she was supposed to go back into work, Aelin woke up with the distinctly unpleasant sensation of her lower back muscles attempting to crush her spine. With a vicious curse, she hauled herself up out of her makeshift bed and made for the kitchen. Her phone chimed from the desk Rowan had been using as an office before the incident, and she snagged it off of the charger, quickly sending a text off to Sam.

Cancel the ride. I can’t do it today after all.

She didn’t bother to await a reply before making her way to the cabinets where she usually stored all of her treats. Her brownies had run out a week ago, but surely she still had something stashed away.

As she rummaged, she took a moment to count backwards in her head. Surely she hadn’t miscounted? This was far too soon for her usual monthly cycle, or so she had thought. After all, her last one had been just two weeks…

Two weeks before she had broken her ankle. Fuck. It was right on schedule and she was the fool who hadn’t counted right. And since she hadn’t counted right, she had done exactly none of her usual self-care routine for the day before that mitigated the symptoms of this first awful day. Gods, she felt like such an idiot.

Gently, she let her head fall forward and into the cabinet door with a soft thunk. It served her right for forgetting such an important thing and messing up her very first day back at work. The best she could do now was try her best to catch up to it with painkillers and hope she would be better enough to try again tomorrow.

Her phone chimed on the counter with Sam’s reply.

I was wondering if you were sure. It’s awfully soon, aren’t you still on those heavy duty pain pills?

Of course she wasn’t. They had run out four days ago, and she hadn’t given it a second thought before now since her ankle had been feeling so much better.

No, I’m just an idiot who can’t count days and weeks. A vague message, to be sure, but Aelin knew that Sam would know exactly what she was talking about. She had complained to him enough about it over the years, after all.

Damn, that sucks. I can stop by after my shift if you need anything?

It was sweet of Sam, really, and a holdover from how they’d helped each other out while they were dating, but she knew it would be too little too late and she didn’t want to interfere with his own schedule. I should be fine, really. Just gonna curl up and try to sleep it off. I should be better tomorrow, you know it’s always just this first day.

That’s true enough. Feel better xo

Aelin smiled and set her phone aside, then winced as her more immediate problem made itself known once more. She finally opened the cabinet…

And was met with plates. Gods, she didn’t know Aedion had even owned this many plates. Not only that, but this meant that Rowan had reorganized the kitchen again and most likely thrown out her snacks. He’d probably even sniffed with disdain as he’d done so, the joyless buzzard.

Aelin whined quietly. Fuck, she just wanted one thing to not be completely screwed up today. Apparently that was too much to ask, though.

Her supplies were kept in the upstairs bathroom next to her usual bedroom, and since she had stocked up the previous month she knew that at least those wouldn’t be an issue. She just had to get up the stairs. It was slower going than usual, as she still had to wear the boot, but now that she could actually walk as long as she had the boot on she managed okay. Several minutes of cleaning up later and she was ready to awkwardly clomp her way back down the stairs, taking some of her stash with her so she wouldn’t have to make this trek again in the next day or two at least.

She paused in front of the television, going through her collection of movies and selecting an older musical Rowan was certain to judge her for before gathering up every blanket they’d left around the living room and forming a cocoon on the couch.

She’d just gotten some semblance of comfortable when the door opened, footsteps heading for the stairs and then pausing. “I thought you said you were going to try working today,” Rowan said, clearly confused. “Unless… is your ankle bothering you?”

“What? No.” Gods, she’d lost track of the time, and she hadn’t expected to deal with Rowan this soon.

“Did your ride fall through? If you’d called I could’ve—”

Her grip on her temper, already tenuous due to the situation at hand, frayed and broke. “Shut up,” she snapped, and a part of her reveled in Rowan’s stunned silence. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your body attack you every month.” She avoided Rowan’s eyes, not sure what she’d find in his expression and even less certain she wanted to know.

She curled up a little bit tighter, though, when his footsteps quietly retreated through the front door once more.

Gods, not only had she messed up her own day, but she’d probably ruined Rowan’s too. He hadn’t asked for her to snap at him, and in hindsight he hadn’t deserved it either. He’d been the perfect picture of a caring roommate, and she’d stomped all over that. It sucked, and not just because she’d actually been trying to befriend him.

No, it was awful because it wasn’t until the door had quietly closed behind him that she realized the last thing she’d wanted was to be left alone.

She’d brought it on herself, though, so she didn’t reach for her phone again. There was no point in dragging anyone else into the utter mess that was her day, and the last thing she wanted was to send a pleading text to Rowan and have him ignore it. Instead, she burrowed deeper into her pile of blankets and tried to ignore the tears she could feel welling in her eyes.

She had mostly succeeded in banishing them and was drifting somewhere between waking and sleep when the door opened once more. She said nothing, hardly daring to hope he’d actually come back. No, most likely he’d forgotten something he needed and he’d be gone again in a few minutes.

Her self-loathing tirade stuttered to a halt when something warm was tucked behind the small of her back.

Stunned, she reached behind herself and found an electric heating pad, the kind she’d always thought about buying but never managed to remember until it was too late. When she turned her head to look at him he wasn’t looking at her, instead setting a cup of something on the table in front of her. It turned out to be a mocha from the café down the street upon further investigation, and suddenly those tears she had mostly managed to shove back down were welling up to the surface once again. “Rowan…?” Gods, her voice broke on his name, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about it.

“You should drink some of that,” he said quietly. “The caffeine will help, and I know how you feel about chocolate.”

Gods, who was this man and what had he done with her roommate? She was having a hard time believing he could be so… soft. She supposed it made sense, though; surely it was just an extension of all he’d done for her in that first week after breaking her ankle. She knew better than to call attention to it by asking; if she knew Rowan, that would just cause him to grumble something at her and retreat into his room for the remainder of the night, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she quietly reached for the cup and sighed as she inhaled the scent of it.

He wasn’t done yet, though; no, he was reaching into one of those reusable grocery bags she’d never seen anyone else using. “I didn’t know if you preferred sweet or salty snacks,” he admitted as he pulled out a couple bars of chocolate and a bag of pretzel sticks.

“Gods, those pretzel sticks sound perfect right now,” she replied. “I… you didn’t have to do all this. How’d you even know what to do? Most men I’ve talked to panic at the very thought of it.”

The question earned her a tiny hint of a smile. “Contrary to popular belief, I have lived with a woman before,” he said.

Aelin immediately fought down a surprisingly strong surge of jealousy at this unnamed other woman who’d had this amount of care from Rowan and presumably lost it somehow. “What happened? I can’t imagine she’d just let you go, if you did this for her.”

“She didn’t.” The words were clipped and short, and Rowan’s expression had shut down completely.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The words rushed out of her, and she ached to reach out to him, to do something to smooth that look away from his face. “Whatever it was, you don’t have to talk about it to your idiot of a roommate who can’t leave well enough alone.”

He finally looked at her, then, and there was a deep sorrow lingering in that green gaze but the smile he gave her was genuine enough. “Maybe I will, someday. But not today.”

“Please tell me I haven’t scared you off. I really, really don’t want to be alone right now.” She could feel her face heating, but not even her own embarrassment was enough to contain the words. Not when he’d already done so much to help and she was finally beginning to relax.

He pulled a small container of medicine out of the bag and set it beside her drink. “Take this while I put the rest of these away, and I’ll be right back,” he offered.

She nodded, and as she reached for the pills he moved into the kitchen. She had just settled back against the heating pad once more when he returned, true to his word. He didn’t take his usual position in the armchair, though, much to her surprise. Instead, he sat beside her on the couch and didn’t even protest when she snuggled herself up under one of his arms.

As she drifted off, comforted by the warmth and the blankets and his loose embrace, she could’ve sworn she heard him humming along to the musical that still played.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee

#haven writes #reluctantly rooming #rowaelin

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orange-imagines · 4 years ago

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Stitched Up

Mud Dogs X Reader (Platonic)

Warning(s) - Some mentions and brief descriptions of blood and injuries, but I didn’t describe anything in great detail

A/N - This wasn’t requested or anything, I just really wanted to do a full drabble for the prompt about the Mud Dogs with a medically experienced friend. Hope you guys enjoy!

They were late.

In all fairness, of course, it wasn’t as if the Mud Dogs were famously punctual, but at least Danny had a strong sense of time and was usually able to keep the other two on track. Though that didn’t seem to be the case today.

You tried not to think too hard about it, stretching out on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand, idling between three different apps as you waited. For what, you weren’t exactly sure. Maybe a text or call, either informing you that the job had run long, or that they couldn’t make it and would have to cancel your hangout entirely.

You ended up getting no such message. Instead, your front door opened a few moments later, and in walked the Mud Dogs, grumbling and aching as they closed the door behind them and dropped their set of spare keys onto the table by the door.

“Uh...hey,” you greeted, setting your phone down on the coffee table as you stood to greet them.

Only when they made their way into the living room, however, did you finally understand the reason behind their tardiness.

From what you could see, the Mud Dogs had gotten their asses kicked. Not only were they empty-handed, but Leonard and Mickey’s bodies were both scattered with bruises, the former with a noticeable gash on his left arm, and the latter messing with a crooked tooth as the group made their way into the living room.

With Danny’s body covered in fur, injuries were hard to see, but you could only assume he’d gotten a relatively similar treatment.

“Hey, Y/N,” Mickey greeted, mumbling his words as he continued to mess with his loose tooth.

“Hey, Y/N,” Danny greeted quietly, taking a seat on the cushioned chair across the room and letting out a long, relieved sigh as he sank into it.

“You guys...look like hell,” you said.

“Yeah, we just got back,” Leonard said, rolling his arm and cringing at the sting from his cut, “who could’ve known the pigs would show up early and completely screw our getaway?”

Mickey mumbled something from around his fin, but you weren’t able to make it out.

“We can’t understand ya with your fist in your mouth, Mick,” Danny grumbled, plucking his hat from his head and resting it over his face.

With a scoff, Mickey pulled his fin from his mouth, taking his newly pulled tooth with it, “I said ‘we didn’t even get the cash’!”

“Did you just…”

You trailed off, Mickey giving you a questioning look as he tossed his tooth over his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“What?”

“Your fucking- whatever. Look, are you guys okay? Do you need help? I’ve got a first aid kit.”

“Nah, we’re good, Y/N,” Leonard said, though the way he was clutching his arm said otherwise, “maybe just some, uh, headache medicine or something? Y’know that stuff?”

“...Ibuprofen?”

“Gazuntite.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh, and heard Danny snicker from across the room.

“I’m getting the kit,” you said, “sit down.”

“Y/N, really-”

“Sit. Down.”

Not eager to risk incurring your wrath, Leonard took a reluctant seat on the couch, and Mickey sat on his right, slumping back against the pillow behind him.

You wasted no more time dipping out to make a quick stop in your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink and making sure to wash your hands for good measure. You hadn’t planned on stitching anything today, but you always made a habit of being prepared for it. Especially when you hung out with the people you did.

Upon returning to the living room, you took a seat on the arm of the couch to Leonard’s left, opening the kit between your legs and snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

“Mind if I ask...the hell are you doing?”

Leonard has his eyes trained on you in a cautious stare. It was obvious he hadn’t put the pieces together yet.

“Stitching this giant gash in your arm,” you explained, “so it doesn’t get infected, and so you don’t bleed all over my furniture.”

That was a joke, of course. The wound had already begun to dry.

“You’re qualified for that?” Danny asked. He’d come out from under his hat at that point and was straightening up to get a better view of the situation.

“Yeah,” you said, “I’ve done it to a banana.”

Several bananas, actually. And several people. But you thought it was funnier to watch Danny’s eyes bulge than let him know you knew what you were doing.

“Cool!” Mickey said, “Len’s gonna get a new scar!”

“Will you shut-”

“Just relax,” you said, “I’ve got mystic painkillers. Don’t worry about it.”

You could tell both Leonard and Danny were still skeptical about the idea, but they trusted you enough to let you do your thing. So, after wetting a towel and wiping the bloodied area on Leonard’s arm clean, you gave him a mystic painkiller, popped open a sterilized suture, and went to work.

“This is the coolest thing you’ve ever done,” you heard Mickey whisper from across the couch, watching with a surprising amount of admiration as you began to thread the first suture through.

“Cooler than that time I punched a police officer?”

“Way cooler.”

After finishing off and cutting the first suture, you popped open a second one and restarted the process. You could tell Leonard was still anxious from the way the muscles in his arm clenched as he rested his wrist on your leg, and you gave him a reassuring smile to try and help calm his nerves.

“Say...you’re not half bad at this.”

You hadn’t noticed Danny standing beside the couch until he spoke up.

“I hope so,” you said, “I’ve done this a lot, you know?”

“Yeah, on fruits,” Leonard grumbled.

“And people,” you added, “I’m not a noob.”

“How come you never told us?” Danny asked, “we could’ve been coming to you the whole time we’ve known ya and you were holding out on us?”

You shrugged, finishing off the second suture and cutting the excess string, “you never asked.”

Danny didn’t have a reply to that, so he just fell into silence and watched as you continued your work.

After about ten more minutes, you’d finished two more sutures and successfully stitched Leonard’s wound up. He was starting to complain about getting sore at that point, so you gave him the bottle of mystic painkillers and began unfurling a roll of bandages to wrap his arm up.

“Woah,” Mickey said, leaning across the couch to get a good look at your work, “that’s epic, dude!”

“Thanks,” you said, then used your elbow to push him away, “don’t breathe on it.”

Reluctantly, Mickey flopped back onto his side of the couch, and you went about wrapping Leonard’s arm.

“Am I the only one unsettled that you know how to do this?” Leonard said.

“No way, dude, this is so cool!” Mickey said, “you ever done stitches on yourself?”

“Well, I’ve never robbed a bank and gotten sliced up by the police before, so no.”

You finished wrapping Leonard’s arm and gave his hand a tap to let him know he could take it away. He did, and you excused yourself to go dispose of your gloves and clean up the first aid kit, placing it on the floor beside the couch once you were done.

“So, how you feeling?” Danny asked, nodding to Leonard’s arm.

“Sore as hell,” he said, “but...Y/N really knows their stuff.”

“‘Course I do,” you said, then pointed to Mickey, “you’re next.”

“Epic. Can you stitch my tooth back in?”

“Literally not even if you paid me.”

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt imagines #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #if you notice any medical inconsistencies in this no you didn't <3 #also I Have actually sutured a banana before and it is the most annoying thing ever #yes this fic is just an excuse for me to be self-indulgent and make myself the Mud Dog Medic what of it?#rottmnt mud dogs

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shoutaaizawas · 5 years ago

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Oh good, if you don’t mine I would like to request a zombie apocalypses au with the “Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.” And “I think I’m in love with you.” Prompt With dabi you don’t have to if you don’t want to 😅 I mean you can if you want 👀

i love dabi so so much and these prompts together were 👌

↳ dabi x reader → ❝never❞

event: au event prompts summary: you and dabi scavenge for supplies at a hospital but things take a turn for the worse word count: 2,243 tags/warnings: zombie!au, fluff, minor injuries

It hadn’t been that long since everything fell apart yet it felt like forever. You could hardly remember your life before all this. A virus spread turning people into monsters and you had been on the run since. You had been alone, the people close to you had died in the initial chaos of it all. The people you had run into had been nothing but hostile only looking for their own interests.

Then you met Dabi. You suspected that wasn’t his real name but you didn’t push it. He had helped you when you were in danger, saving your life. You knew that you shouldn’t trust a stranger but you figured he would have betrayed you already if that was what he wanted to do.

Dabi was odd, he had scars and piercings that made him look far different than any normal person. He was sarcastic and dry but he looked out for you and was charming and kind in his own way.

You supposed that given the circumstances of being in an actual Apocalypse, losing all your loved ones, and meeting a handsome stranger, it wasn’t shocking that you fell for him.

It didn’t stop you from judging yourself thought.

Survival was key, you spent your days scavenging for supplies and staying on the move to avoid any danger. It wasn’t glamorous but it kept you both alive and being with him made it enjoyable. You couldn’t imagine how miserable you’d be alone. Well, you’d probably be dead by now.

What were the dating standards for the apocalypse? You hardly knew what they were before. You were hopeless so you took the company you had and enjoyed it while you could. Tomorrow was never promised.

“I don’t want to go in there.” You said staring at the decrepit hospital. It always amazed you how quickly things deteriorated.

“I don’t want to either but it could have good supplies.” He answered.

“Well, we both don’t want to go.” You sighed. “Go with me?”

“As long as you hold my hand.” He teased. You rolled your eyes but your heart fluttered at the thought.

Suddenly you felt brave reached your hand out and claiming his scarred hand in yours before walking forward. You thought he’d laugh and pull away but he held on as you headed towards the building.

It wasn’t much better on the inside than it was the out. It was dark, natural light barely streaming in. The main lobby was trashed furniture tossed everywhere.

“Certainly looks promising.” You said sarcastically.

“C’mon you know you gotta dig a little deeper for the good stuff.” He said pulling you upstairs. Walking through the hallways you were both on guard, Dabi had an ax in his free hand while you had your baseball bat in yours.

Opening doors most of the rooms were lacking anything of worth. That was until you reached a locked door. You and Dabi gave each other a look before Dabi used his leg to break the door down. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t weirdly attractive.

“Ladies first.” He said with a smirk.

Flashlight in hand you entered the room, the shelves were full of different supplies. Certainly, more than you could take with you. Looking over everything you picked out what would be of most use, bandages, disinfectant, painkillers. Oh how you missed pain killers, you hated toughing out the headaches that you got from time to time.

“Not bad, you were right. There’s more than we can even take.” You said holding up the items in your hands.

“I’m always right.” He teased. You scoffed at his comment as you grabbed everything useful you could carry.

“Let’s head out and find shelter for the night before it gets dark.” He said nodding his head to the exit.

“We could stay here.” You suggested.

“It’s too big of a building, we don’t know what else is here or who else.” He said. You nodded that was fair. Dabi was far better when it came to thinking things through. It seemed you were still adjusting to the new lifestyle.

Making your way back to the lobby that you entered through you spotted zombies there. Stopping you silently held your hand up to let Dabi know there was trouble. You looked back at him and he gestured in the direction you came from. Following his lead, you returned to the second floor.

“There’s got to be another exit.” He said in a low voice, eyes searching your surroundings.

“Better than getting through them.” You said following him.

Finding another exit sounded easier than it was. Anything signs that had been a directory before were unreadable at this point. It felt like forever that you spent walking around the hospital. At least there weren’t many zombies up here. Well, at least that’s what you thought before everything fell apart.

You had been walking ahead of Dabi, you didn’t see the part of the floor that had rotted. Before you knew it you were falling, Dabi yelling out to you.

Hitting the ground with a painful thud you thought that had been the worst of it. Your head felt dizzy as you tried to take in your surroundings. The groan of something next to you told you things were about to get worse.

Just in time, you pulled back as the zombie lunged for you. Grabbing your baseball bat that had rolled away from you in the fall you hit it with all your strength, which wasn’t much at this point.

More noise surrounded you and you realized that it wasn’t just one zombie. Fear welled inside you as you realized the danger you were in. You scrambled back but you were surrounded. Using your bat you tried your best to keep them away but you doubted it was enough.

A loud thud caught your attention beside you, looking over you saw Dabi getting on his feet. Had he jumped down here? Was he stupid? How many times had you agreed that if one of you were in a bad enough situation that you would leave to keep yourself safe? Of course, you didn’t think you could do it but you always assumed he wouldn’t struggle looking back.

You stared in awe as Dabi made quick work of the zombies. They had been half asleep, or whatever you called what they did when you had fallen. Dabi may have been outnumbered but that gave him a strong advantage. It never ceased to amaze you how quickly he dispatched the monsters.

He was a sight to behold, standing over you looking down at you with fear and adrenaline running through him, blood splattered across his features. His blue eyes pierced into yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“D-Dabi-” You said, still in shock at everything that had happened.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s get somewhere safe.” He said. Doll, it was something that he said in jest to you often but right now it felt different. Was it because he's usually sarcastic tone sounded a little too raw, too real?

Dabi didn’t hesitate and you couldn’t protest fast enough as he scooped you up in his arms carrying you out of the room, leaving the place that you had thought for a moment would be the last place you ever saw.

Your head throbbed almost making you sick to your stomach. You had hit your head pretty hard in your unexpected fall. You couldn’t stop yourself from resting your head against his chest. Why was he so warm? It made you want to drift asleep, your eyes sliding closed.

“Hey, no sleeping not until we see how to hurt you are.” He said jostling you in his arms. Your eyes shot open.

“I wasn’t going to sleep, I was just resting my eyes.” You argued.

“Likely story.” He said with a small smirk looking down at you.

Eventually, you made your way back to the supply room you had originally found yourselves in. He gently set you down on the floor against the wall.

“Don’t fall asleep, I’ll be back in one second.” He said pointing at you sternly.

“M’kay Dad.” You teased leaning your head against the wall only to touch the spot that had hit the floor. You let out a hiss of pain.

Dabi returned a few moments later with some hospital pillows in hand. No doubt they reeked of the dust and debris that almost everything did these days but it would be nice to not be on the hard tile floor.

“Here,” He said placing the pillows behind you. Kneeling in front of you he held up a flashlight. “Don’t close your eyes.” He said before shining the light into your eyes.

“Ow.” You said closing your eyes instinctually.

“I said don’t close your eyes.” He huffed.

“You shined a light in my eyes, what am I supposed to do?” You complained opening your eyes.

“I’m trying to see if you have a concussion.” He sighed. “Keep them open.” He said in a firm tone.

This time you did your best not to flinch at the bright light.

“You don’t have a concussion but I still need to check you for other injuries.” He said putting the light down.

“Are you a doctor or something?” It wasn’t unusual to get hurt but it was usually small scrapes and bruises. You hadn’t seen this sight of him. It took him so long to answer that you almost thought he was ignoring the question.

“My brother was going to medical school before all this. He would always tell me how important it was to know this kind of stuff.” He said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t realize how right he was.”

“Did he…?” You didn’t want to say it.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to any of my family.” He said.

“I’m sorry.” You said. You were truly sorry. You knew how hard it was losing your loved ones but not know somehow felt worse. “At least when you know their dead, you don’t wonder if they’re out there still. What they’re doing. That uncertainty hurts.”

It was rare to have any deep conversations with him, your agreement to help each other survive but leave if the other was in too much danger made it feel wrong to get too attached not that it stopped you from developing feelings for him.

Dabi didn’t say anything as he examined your injuries. Your ankle was sore but not entirely sprained and other than the scrapes on your elbows and bruising on the back of your head you would be okay.

After he was done he sat down next to you.

“We can stay here for the night. It’s not ideal but it’s getting late and I don’t want to try and leave with you roughed up.” He said.

“Why did you save me?” You asked looking up at him.

“Would you prefer that I didn’t?” He deflected.

“That’s not what I asked.” You said refusing to let him get away without an answer. “We always say if it’s too dangerous, just go. It’s not worth both of us dying.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t think it was that dangerous.” He said.

“Dabi you jumped through a hole in the ground into a pit of zombies, stop dodging the question!” You raised your voice getting annoyed at his antics.

“Because maybe I care too much!” His voice was irritated now, sitting up from his slouched position from a moment ago. “Because watching you fall was the worst thing I’ve ever watched happen and I’ve seen some terrible stuff. Because the thought of you down there for even a moment without me made me sick! Because the thought of you being hurt tore me apart much less the thought of walking away and leaving you for dead!”

You sat there in shock. You had always assumed that Dabi was as indifferent as he portrayed himself.

“D-Dabi-” You stuttered out.

“I think I love you.” He said. His blue eyes bore into yours, his gaze took away your breath. Or maybe it was a residual effect from the fall but you wouldn’t question it.

“I feel the same way.” You said. “Every since we met I just felt this connection to you. I didn’t think you would feel the same way-”

You didn’t have a chance to finish your sentence as Dabi’s lips crashed against yours. His hands gripping intensely yet gently on the sides of your face. For a moment you floundered so taken off guard that you couldn’t react but as you grasped your barrings your hands wound around his neck pulling him close.

“I won’t ever leave your side,” Dabi said as he pulled back. “Nothing could make me leave you.”

“I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” You smiled before going back in for another kiss.

In that dark, dingy hospital you leaned your head against Dabi’s shoulder. His arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, his warmth surrounding you. You never felt safer despite all the danger around the two of you.

“You know, there are pillows you could use instead of my shoulder.” He said in his usual sarcastic tone.

“Hmm.” You hummed nuzzling into his side. “I prefer this.”

Dabi smirked before pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. He would never leave your side. No matter what.

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