#but I know my shit when it comes to medical stuff and nursing shit and whatnot!!! it’s what I’ve been working on since high school!!!!!

[galariangengar]

💭

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Azriel: Through Feyre's eyes

This absolutely follows my favorite fic plotline where Feyre and Y/N are childhood best friends and when Nesta and Elain are taken, Y/N is taken as well and Cauldron Made. 

This is Feyre, watching her best friend fall for her brother in law 💙

I def recommend reading The Night Court’s Justice and The Beginning of Your Life with Azriel. I’m pulling stuff from both those fics.  

Feyre truly didn’t know how Y/N would react to this world. 

Y/N hated change, she hated socializing unless she had her emotional support extrovert with her (Feyre or Elain), but, at the same time she loved adventure. 

And this was possibly a bigger adventure than even her favorite books were about. 

According to Rhys’ messages while Feyre was at the Spring Court, Y/N was taking a while to warm up to them. Shorter than it took Feyre (which was surprising) to warm up, but Y/N even left her room after a few hours being cooped up. 

She had helped nurse Cassian and Azriel back to health with Madja, quickly finding her footing even though Y/N absolutely hated medical things. 

When Feyre came back from the Spring Court, Y/N nearly took her out with her new strength. 

“Sorry, I'm still getting used to it. I broke a mug this morning.” She said into Feyre’s hair. Then pulled away from her, “Actually I’m not sorry, you left! Again!” She scolded Feyre, and Feyre had never been happier to be scolded. 

Feyre grabbed the necklace she always wore, the one she had matching with Y/N. “I had you with me.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and grabbed her own necklace out of her shirt. “Bitch.” 

“Loser.” And you two clinked your necklaces together.

And that was that. 

The first dinner that night, Feyre introduced you to Lucien. She saw the blush on your cheeks and knew you thought he was handsome, Feyre herself thought he was. 

Eventually, everyone had sat at the table, you were in between Cassian and Azriel, almost like you had every dinner since she was gone. 

“Your friend is a horrid nurse.” Cassian wrinkled his nose. 

“Okay listen, I’m not used to this shit.” You said, passing the beets to Azriel. Who graciously accepted it, a light blush dusting his cheeks that told Feyre everything she needed to know. 

She glanced at Rhys who widened his eyes slightly and said in her mind “He’s been pining since she told him to ‘sit the fuck down’ when he tried to get up too early.” Rhys had a hearty chuckle, “Meanwhile I decided I wanted her around.” Feyre let out a small smile. 

“You should not gag when seeing a tendon in your patient's wing!” Cassian declared. 

Y/N gagged at the reminder. 

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

Watching her best friend fall in love brought Feyre an incredible amount of joy. She was a natural meddler and nosey in general. 

She watched as Azriel and you became inseparable. Although she had her mate to thank for that, after all you became the Night Court’s Justice and then you and Azriel began a professional partnership. 

It stressed her out, you being away. You were her emotional support person, even before her husband and mate. But you two would have mental conversations every day if you could. Unless you and Az were deep undercover. 

The secret smiles, the inside jokes, the memories that you and Az shared. She loved witnessing them.

Then, your accident happened. 

She hadn’t felt terror like that since Rhys ‘died’. When Rhys had informed her that you were on your deathbed, and that he had instructed a carriage to come and retrieve you and Azriel, she thought she was going to throw up. 

She insisted on being in the carriage, which then prompted Rhys to insist she take Nesta with her as Nesta had all the training of an Illyrian and could, frankly, kill someone with a single swipe of her hand. 

That worked out just fine for her, as Nesta and you were close as well. Her and her sister were repairing their relationship. What’s a 12 hour jaunt through the forest to retrieve their near-dead friend? 

A lot. That’s what it was. 

They argued, they threatened. But it all came from a place of worry as those arguments would end with hugs and comfort that they both needed. 

They didn’t rest either, not until they saw you. About four hours in, Rhys had reached out and alerted Feyre that you had awoken, you were eating and giving Azriel shit. 

She was so relieved she wept, and when she shared the news with Nesta, she swept too. 

When they arrived at the Inn, and alerted the Innkeeper Esther greeted them and let them know you had just woken up and Azriel would bring you out shortly. She made her husband bring out your belongings. 

He brought out a bag and she could smell your blood on the clothes in them. It made her nearly sick. She knew Nesta felt the same way. They wouldn’t ease until they saw you. 

But they didn’t wait long, once they got your bags put away in the carriage, Azriel was coming outside with you in a bridal carry.

And the best part? You were smiling. 

She let out a breath of relief that Nesta echoed. Then the smell hit them. “Their mating bond has snapped.” Feyre whispered to Nesta. 

Nesta gave her a shit-eating, conspiratorial grin. “Oh, the boys will have fun teasing him.” 

And they did when you all got back and they watched him bridal carry you into your room at the townhouse. They then watched him nurse you back to health, like you did for him many moons ago. 

If she could’ve designed the perfect male for her best friend, it would’ve been Azriel. She had never seen him smitten because she had obviously just entered his life, but she’d say he was smitten for you.

You never lifted a finger. He’d get your doors, push in your chairs, he treated you like a princess. And he was your prince because you gave that energy right back to him. 

You had a habit of rambling. In the past, she watched as your partners would ignore you and the light dimmed from your eyes when you realized they weren’t listening. Azriel however, not only clearly listening, he smiled while you talked as if just your voice brought him joy. He would respond with questions and let you go into another rambling as you explained the answer. 

She watched you become a shell of yourself with your old partners. You blossomed with Azriel. 

You two always had some point of contact with each other. Not in the gross PDA way, but like your thighs touching sitting next to each other. Your foot on his leg. A hand hold. Hand in arm. Anything. 

She was happy to see the changes in him as well. Rhysand felt the same way. He was outwardly smiling and laughing. More affectionate with his friends. Hell, he was more confident in his hands, he allowed others to touch them and even wore rings now that he loved. 

Rhysand had told Feyre “He’s always wanted to wear jewelry but was worried his hands would look bad with them. I will forever be grateful to Y/N for making him more confident and comfortable.”

His shadows even buzzed about more. You giggled because they loved your hair. 

The honeymoon phase wasn't a ‘stage’ for you two. It was the whole relationship. Of course, you two had your arguments, every partnership did. And she definitely heard about them. But you always came back together in the end, you always knew you would. It made her so incredibly happy you had that security and safety with him. No matter what argument, you knew in your soul and bones, he would never cheat, never leave. 

She felt content knowing her best friend was taken care of. She also looked forward to a lifetime of double dates.

[rosefilledpiano]

hi! if you’d like could you do some tyler and aiden hcs (separate) with a soulmate who is really good at being the group’s personal doctor? ik ben kind of us but maybe the reader grew up with doctor parents and actually knows what to do? thank youuuu <3

Aiden Clark and Tyler Hernandez with a personal doctor S/O

Aiden Clark

Aiden is in desperate need of a doctor literally every day

He does risky shit on the daily. Even before getting stuck in the phantom dimension.

He does a lot of skateboard tricks, climbing on things, and stuff im not even gonna get into

And when he needs patching up, Ben's always there

But when Ben isn't there, you are

His sweet partner. his personal medic. the person who would bonk him over the head if they wouldn't have to heal him after

You and Ben get along because of having to babysit Aiden. When he tries fighting the phantoms "for the lols", you and Ben are the first to grab his shirt collar, and stop him

Still, though, he gets hurt a lot more than the average teen

Every day at school, he shows up with a new scratch or bruise and his reason is always so different

"Oh, a dog tried biting my balls off :)"

"I tried climbing a tree and somehow hit my head :)"

"TYLER THREW A FUCKING TABLE AT ME"

It gets so common to the point where you celebrate the days he doesn't get hurt

He'll run up to you full of energy in the mornings with Ben following behind him

"(NAME)! I DIDNT GET MY BALLS BITTEN OFF TODAY!"

He turns his head, waiting for a kiss on the cheek

And how can you refuse when he's so excited?

If you want to become a doctor in the future, he offers to help pay for the resources you'll need

Overall, 10/10 boyfriend, 1/10 patient. You're running out of bandaids

Tyler Hernandez

Much like Aiden, Tyler tends to get hurt a bit more than average teens

From the baseball practice, phantoms, trees, and fights, it's safe to say he's got a lot of bruises (and not as many organs, anymore)

I think Tyler was the personal nurse in his childhood. With Taylor not knowing what to do, and his mom caught up on his dads death, Tyler was the one who took charge

So when you come along, all sweet and helpful, he doesn't know what to think

He doesn't know if he should let you care for him or care for you

Eventually, he decides to just do both. Caring for you and letting you care for him

If you want to become a doctor, he's all for it

Even if you have to move really, really far away

He can't help you pay for it, seeing as he's struggling with his own future, but he'll support you however he can

Most of the time, he's hurt because of fights

So naturally, you ban fighting

Even then, though, he'll be all like

"(Name)! Aiden's being a dumbass again, can I hit him?"

Anyway, 10/10 boyfriend. 5/10 patient. He doesn't use as many bandaids

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | March 18th-24th 2024

It's a long one today folks! I hope you enjoy! :) If you know anyone who's not tagged, don't hesitate to let me know!

idk 'bout you but I can't wait for the final part of the premiere on Thursday!!! 😃

Complete

anything that is beautiful, people want to break. by dylaesthetics (Post-Coma, Trans Buck | 3K | Teen): Buck has never meant to keep it a secret from the one-eighteen. Hell, he trusts them with much more gritty, uncomfortable stuff than that. It’s more like… It hasn’t come up. There’s been no reason for it to come up. But then he gets struck by lightning and the mix-up with his medical records happens. A nurse he hasn’t seen yet barges into Buck’s hospital room, with his entire family in it, blood and found alike, and stares at him for one dumbfounded moment before blurting out a name he hasn’t been addressed by in well over eight years. 

not flesh and blood but the heart by Jinko / @jinkohhh (Post-S6, Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): Five times people assumed Chris was Buck's son + one time Eddie confirmed it.

🔥 don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (S7 Spec, Bachelor Party, Pretend Relationship | 14K | Teen): or, chris wants dating advice and it turns out taking your best friend on a pretend date to practice being as romantic as possible is not a good idea in theory or in practice, considering the pesky being-in-unrequited-love of it all

A Little Bit of the Bubbly by Jinko/ @jinkohhh (Post-S6, PWP, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit): Since turning 30, Buck's relationship with champagne has changed. It also manages to change his relationship with Eddie.

washed away (but not) by Jinko / @jinkohhh (S7 Spec | 3K | Teen): “Well, this is awkward.” Every part of Buck wanted to tell Chim to go fuck himself, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t. Nothing made a situation more awkward than pointing out the awkwardness of it. “So which one of you two made the deathbed love confession?” Ravi laughed, and frankly, Ravi could go fuck himself, too. The both of them could go fuck themselves because both Chimney and Ravi were correct.

i like the way you scratch my itch by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (BTHB: Hives | 3K | Teen): Buck’s big blue eyes sparkle. “You’re so cute, did you know that?” he asks, leaning close enough Eddie can count the small red-brown-orange freckles all across his nose. “Even when you’re red from poison ivy.” Red. Red from the poison ivy. Yeah, yep, that’s exactly what he’s so red for. Absolutely.

meet you in the middle. by dylaesthetics (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): OR buck and eddie get their shit together during a regular friday movie night at the diaz house.

🔥 Even in Winter There is Eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Hades/Persephone AU | 45K | Explicit): Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld. Now bound to Eddie, the god of the dead, Buck must spend half the year with him in the Underworld while winter reigns above. But even as something grows between them, there are still trials to endure. Just because the gods are not mortal... does not mean they cannot die.

🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit): When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.

and check out the amazing podfic!! 🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314

hold tight, you’re slowly coming back to life by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Eddie runs into Natalia at the grocery store. He learns something about her and Buck’s breakup that gives him the final push to take care of his own complicated love life.

🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (Sex Pollen, PWP | 21K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.

Touch Me and I'll Scream by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Unhealthy Coping Mecanisms, Established Buddie | 5K | Mature): At his low, Buck uses rough sex as a way of self harm.

in another life by bellabrady (Coma AU | 2K | Not Rated): Or: Buck's in a coma and dreams of a life where Daniel never died and he never became a firefighter.

Locations by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Vomiting, Drowning | 4K | General): In which Buck drowns.

I was born to take care of you by Beulaugh/ @if-music-be-the-food-of-love (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Buck has a revelation at work and then promptly falls on his face. Eddie Diaz's ass: 1, Evan Buckley: 0

hold the silence. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6 | 3K | Teen): OR while looking for clothes to donate, Buck stumbles upon the shirt he was wearing when Eddie got shot.

Tomorrow we can drive around this town by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (S7 Spec, Drunk Eddie | 4K | Mature): If Eddie had been sober, he would have realized it wasn't something to be happy about. But drunk as he was, it had the blood singing in his veins, because Buck was going home with him, not Tommy. Tommy could go fuck himself – or you know, anyone else who was willing, but not Evan Buckley. Because Eddie was a pathetic, sloppy drunk and his best friend had a responsibility to make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit or drown himself in the bathroom sink.

sang to the sea for feelings deep blue by Tizniz/ @tizniz (S7 Spec, Cruise Ship Emergency | 14K | General): God, he hopes Buck got out. That he isn’t trying to get to Eddie. That he gets to go home. And not just because Christopher needs him, although he does since Eddie is fairly certain he’s not making it home this time. He doesn’t let himself dwell too long on that thought. No, Eddie wants Buck to go home because he deserves it. Because Buck deserves to live. Because Eddie needs him to live.

you've got game by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (S7E01 Coda, Established Buddie | 1K | General): a silly little late night conversation about chris being a 'ladies man'

take this life and make it yours (take this heart and let it love again) by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Canon Divergent, Post-Coma | 31K | Mature): Before he could second guess it, he’d dialled Eddie’s number and listened to it ring in his ear. As soon as he heard the click of the connection, he said, “Eddie, what the hell, man?” “I meant what I said. I don’t know who you think you are, but call this number again and I will contact the police.” . . . or, the one where Buck finally figures out he's in love with Eddie, only for things to not go as planned. At first.

if i bleed, you'll be the last to know by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (S7, Hurt Buck | 6K | Teen): buck gets stabbed while out on a run and then... doesn't tell anyone about it. eddie loses his shit when he finds out, they have a moment in the kitchen and they kiss.... not necessarily in that order.

Baby, take me by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): “Same thing,” Eddie nuzzled him, stubble scratching even more as he moved his face. When he stopped nuzzling, he pulled back far enough that he could see Buck’s face. “I said stop thinking.” “Kinda hard to turn my brain off.” “Pretty sure I turned it off just fine last night,” Eddie said with a smirk that went straight to Buck’s cock, already half hard just from the way Eddie’s stubble is dragging across his skin. “Is that how I get you to stop thinking?”

when you call me yours by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Established Buddie, Proposal | 5K | General): Buck starts calling Eddie his husband. Only problem...they're not engaged. aka the 5 times Buck refers to Eddie as his husband and the 1 time Eddie makes it true.

just lay back in my arms for one more night by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Established Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Buck loves Eddie as he naps.

Brat Burrito by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Established Buddie | 1K | General): Just a cute Buddie moment about breakfast burritos.

it's a sliding into home kind of day by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP | 3K | Explicit): Eddie’s eyes still don’t leave the television. Frowning to himself, Buck cranes his neck to get a look at what could possibly be more important than him coming home after covering a tragically Eddie-less shift. A baseball game evidently is the answer.

your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep by BekkaChaos/ @bekkachaos (New Years Eve, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): aka, Eddie's in love with Buck and he doesn't know how to tell him, until there's a miscommunication and fate (well, Hen) intervenes.

Loose Threads by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Secret Relationship | 3K | Explicit): New to dating and keeping it quiet, Buck and Eddie get a little carried away on a slower shift at the firehouse. But when the alarm eventually sounds, a spur of the moment mistake leaves them a little mixed up.

Married Life by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew)/ @911onabc (S5, Getting Together | 2K | General): Taylor films Buck for a TikTok challenge, and Buck finds out he would much rather be his best friend’s husband than his girlfriend’s.

A Seal By Any Other Name (Would Still Be My Best Friend) by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Post-Tsunami | 5K | General): Evan "Buck" Buckley is a collection of oddities. But they're just what makes Buck Buck and Eddie loves him for them. Eddie had thought that after their years of friendship (and maybe something more) that nothing Buck could do would surprise him anymore. But there is one oddity that Eddie never saw coming. “How about you start with why there was a seal in my bathtub and now there’s just you in my bathtub.” (Part 1 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)

Just Add Water by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Tsunami | 3K | General): There may be more to Buck than meets the eye. But he's still only human(ish) and getting stuck in a natural disaster with his best friend's son is still all sorts of terrifying. A small hysterical part of his brain thinks about how ironic it would be if this was how he died. Him, a mythical aquatic creature, drowning. The universe would surely laugh and the long line of Buckley ancestors would turn in their graves. (Part 2 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)

you can be my daddy (come on, you know you like) by bigfootsmom (Getting Together, Daddy Kink | 4K | Mature): Buck has a teeny tiny problem. One, he's in love with his best friend. Two, he wants to call said best friend Daddy.

It's the softness that breaks you by bigfootsmom (BDSM, Hurt/Comfort | 6K | Explicit): Or the one where Buck has more issues with intimacy than he had originally thought.

lay your love on me by bigfootsmom (PWP, Getting Together | 3K Explicit): Buck never thought the words he said to Eddie in the kitchen would ever come back to haunt him like this. Honestly, he’s not complaining.

you made me feel (i've got nothing to hide) by bigfootsmom (Virgin!Buck, Established Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Buck has a secret: Contrary to popular belief, Evan "Buck" Buckley is actually a virgin.

WIP

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 22/? | 162K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 6/18 | 37K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 122/? | 374K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

[sleep-i-ness]

Maybe They're Born With It, Maybe It's Trauma

Summary: You make a new friend at rehab.

Content Warning: Drugs, rehab

TUA MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

“I hoped we wouldn’t be seeing you back here so soon.” The dour face of Dr Hartleben greeted you as you waltzed into the rehab centre, a grin splitting your face in two.

“How could I stay away? I simply adore the early morning yoga sessions and going around in a circle after lunch explaining why we’re all so fucked up.”

Dr Hartleben’s pursed lips and sour expression conveyed all she had to say on the matter as you turned sharply on the ball of your foot. She took large strides down the corridor, and you had to jog to catch up, your scruffy trainers squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor. This place was like a second home to you, having been in and out every few months for the past 7 or so years.

You’d tried to hold down a steady job, really, you had. But all you had to show for it was a place as a flautist in the local orchestra, which did not pay, and a spacious but surprisingly cheap apartment in the dodgy part of the city. That you’d bought with money from your past life, when everything had been fine and on track to at least a minimal amount of success. But all in all, you’d decided that there was no point in trying to regain some semblance of normalcy in your life when all you ever did was try to escape the ghosts from your past.

Dr Hartleben pushed open the dull aluminium door with your foot, a shaft of sunlight illuminating the room. Ah, home sweet home. The stale scent of iodoform and sweat wafted out and you breathed deeply. This was the one thing that never changed, no matter what.

“You know your way around, the top bunk on the far left is vacant. I expect to see you adding your name to the duty rosters and coming to group therapy this afternoon,” Dr Hartleben was itching to leave you in the confined patient dormitories, barely even standing on the faded doorstep of the room. “Your stuff will be brought to you as soon as it has all been checked.”

You scoffed. “I’m always a model patient, I’d never jeopardise my spot in this wonderful place by bringing shit in with me.”

“Then why are you back again? I’ll leave you to get settled and make your bed. Your sheets should be on the end of your bunk. The others are in the garden, one of the nurses will be round in 10 minutes to escort you.”

With that, the door swung closed, and you were left standing in the dank and poorly lit room. The frosted windows were too grimy to let much light in and the bulb in the lamp buzzed a faint yellow. At least this time you had a top bunk, which was clearly the superior spot.

That was the problem in having so many drug overdoses on your medical record; every so often you’d be sent back into rehab, with or without a court order to stay. You had forgotten the strict rules that had to be followed and the lack of freedom; you didn’t need a babysitter. At least in rehab you wouldn’t be quite so lonely, you had roommates to keep you company now. And everyone had their own demons to face, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. There was no room for judging.

The crisp sheets smelt of starched linen, over washed and firm to the touch. No more comfy bed sheets, you mourned. The mattress was lumpy and had a suspicious dark stain on the plastic that you straight up refused to touch, choosing to flip it over instead and hope that the other side was less grimy.

“Y/N?” A knock sounded at the door and a nurse popped his head round the door, clutching your overflowing crochet shoulder bag. It was a face you hadn’t seen before, and you quickly plastered on your friendliest grin.

“Hi, yep, that’s me. Is my stuff all okay for me to take?” All there was in the bag was a change of clothes, some toiletries and spare underwear. No point bringing anything too nice, someone was bound to nick it otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah.” The nurse returned your smile, holding out the bag for you to quickly grab and sling over the end of your bed. He was quite young, you would guess late 20s to early 30s. You pitied the poor guy, having to deal with them all the time. Well, he had chosen this.

“Dr Hartleben said that the other patients were all in the garden, can I join them?” You skipped over to the door, your colourfully patterned skirt swishing round your ankles. You hadn’t been quite sure that your outfit was particularly fitting for the centre; it had felt a bit too bohemian but seeing the drab and dreary walls reminded you that a pop of colour would do this place some good.

The garden was a bit of an overstatement really. It was more of a paved courtyard with weeds growing between the cracks in the slabs and a couple of small flowerbeds, one of which had been a vegetable garden the last time you had been here but now appeared to have been taken over by weeds. It was the space for the newest patients, who couldn’t be trusted to go into the slightly more expansive grounds yet. It was depressingly barren, and you eyed the patients morosely milling around with a grimace. How boring.

“What’s growing in the beds at the moment?” You turned to the nurse, whose name you hadn’t learnt yet, with a dazzling smile.

“I don’t think there’s anything particular being grown.”

You pursed your lips. How sad. Any life or nature in this place really was stifled and stamped out in the end.

--

You trudged into the group therapy room, eyes following your feet as they left scuff marks on the shiny floor. You slipped into a spare seat, barely making eye contact with anyone else. If you could get out of this without a single person trying to become your new bosom pal, you’d count it as a win.

“Hi, I’m Ella and today we have someone new joining us, so I’d like everyone to go round in the circle and introduce themselves by saying their name and why they’re here. Louisa, if you wouldn’t mind starting off for us.” The irritatingly cheery voice of the therapist was grating on your nerves, you hated these sessions with a passion. What was the need in sharing the same stories every week?

“I’m Louisa and I’m an alcoholic.”

“I’m Mark and I’m a heroin addict.”

“I’m Susanna and I’m a drug addict.”

“I’m Brent and I’m an alcoholic.”

The droning of voices soon became a wave of background noise that washed over you like a sea of calm, each introduction as monotonously boring as the next. The person to your left spoke and you yawned softly, daintily lifting a hand to cover your mouth. “I’m Y/N and I’m an addict.”

There was something so tiring about rehab. Between the withdrawals and the endless therapy and need to be in touch with emotions, it was draining both physically and mentally. You couldn’t wait to get out; you only had a couple more weeks to go.

“And, our newest member, would you like to introduce yourself?” You could practically hear the beaming grin in Ella’s voice, and you rolled your eyes. Bit much.

“I’m Klaus and I’d like to say I’m a tortured soul-” Your head snapped up to look curiously at the newbie. Heavily eyelinered brown eyes stared back at you, a mischievous twinkle shining in them. “But to stick with the same pattern as everyone else, I’m an addict.”

He lifted a ringed hand to wave to the circle, winking at you. And you felt yourself flush, ducking your head from his intense gaze.

Group therapy had never felt so long as today, not that you could recall anything discussed, not when your eyes kept straying towards Klaus. And boy, did he notice. Every time his eyes met yours, he held the eye contact, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you flushed redder and redder.

How unfair that someone this gorgeous was at rehab; how were you meant to even attempt to recover when he kept looking at you!

It wasn’t until the end of the session, as you all shuffled out, that he properly made his way over to you, a cheeky grin on his face. You glanced at him, turning your head back to the door with a small smile which you tried your hardest to fight back.

“Hello, Y/N,” he murmured, voice so low it felt like a conversation that was only for you. And you bit at the inside of your cheek to squash the blush crawling up inside you.

“Hiya,” you whispered, hoping you didn’t sound quite as excited as you felt.

“Come here often?”

You giggled, hating how much like a schoolgirl you sounded, and finally plucked up the courage to make eye contact with him. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Court mandated as well?”

You nodded, picking at a stray thread on your skirt.

“Well, we’ve got each other now.”

And you chewed at your bottom lip, beaming grin splitting across your face as a heady rush of giddiness filled your chest. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Want to go see the garden with me?”

You nodded, a little too quickly and eagerly, and he just chuckled at you.

Maybe rehab wouldn’t be as bad this time around.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nine —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: no comment

The beam gave a nasty cut to your hand.

Tetanus, blood, infections— more threats.

You sit on a rock by the river to fix it up. Before you can dab on the hydrogen peroxide from your new med kit, Blue insists on doing it for you— soft fingertips against your broken skin. She is by far a gentler nurse than her father. You focus on her pink cheeks and scrunched nose as she concentrates. It helps you ignore the sting.

"You scared the shit out of me for a second there, Twix.”

"Sorry. I guess I need to work on my balance."

She gives a stilted laugh. The gauze comes next, just a thin layer since the bleeding has already stopped.

"Thanks for asking him to help me," you add in a whisper. You smile. "I don't think I've ever had a friend save my life so many times."

Blue cuts the gauze and begins tying it off. "I didn't actually have to ask him this time, you know. Like I said, he doesn’t hate you.”

You glance to where Ghost has taken the short break to lean against a tree and drink some water, pale jaw and pink lips exposed. An actual human hides under all that gear and horrifying mask. It annoys you that he doesn't just take it off.

You look back at her, eyes rolling. “You're lying."

She closes the med kit and shrugs. “Friends don't lie."

The afternoon sun bleeds white light over your cheeks as the three of you keep walking. Just meters away from the river, Ghost points out a small cabin. One that hunters used back in the day, you bet. He says it could be a good place to stay for the night. The scent of the rushing water nearby should do some to mask your human scent.

Rolling hills take place of the trees. To the west, you can see the faint outline of mountains dipped in white snow. Well, as much of mountains as you can find in England. They are not nearly as tall as the ones your parents used to take you skiing to in France.

You grow quiet and let Blue do all the talking. Maybe you are embarrassed after almost falling into the river.

Just when she asks - How much further? - something strange pops up in the distance. White medical tents— well, you assume they were once white. They are now torn and grey, with some blue crates beneath them. Confusion swells in your chest and you can't help but speak up.

"Why is this all here?" you ask, your boots stepping over some stray medical tools. Scalpels, tweezers, and syringes. Pressed into the rich earth like fossils. You would pick them up if they weren't rusted past the point of being useful.

"I don't know," Blue answers. "Ghost?"

"Emergency medical camp the military set up," he says. 

"After shit happened?" she asks.

He gives a curt nod as he looks around at the remnants. "Those that were left were tryin' to help survivors in the first few days. Didn't last long, though."

"Is that what your friends were doing after you ditched them?"

"Told you, kid. They weren't my friends."

"Alright, teammates. Whatever. Were they helping with injured people here?" she asks curiously.

"A few of them were.”

Blue looks at you. "Twix, did I ever tell you about that?"

"Um. About what?"

"Well, Ghost was supposed to be working when shit happened," she raises her brows and juts a thumb at him. "But he snuck away from his post to get all our stuff and come find me and my mum."

You swallow at the mention of her mom and avoid looking at Ghost. "Snuck away?"

"Yeah," she nods, "It's called dessert."

"Desertion," he gruffly corrects her.

"What?" you ask.

"He abandoned his assignment," she explains. "But he always says he would do it again if he had to. Anyway, he used to talk to his teammates on his radio to see how they were and stuff— what was happening. But then they got too far away for it to work."

Of course Ghost had a radio.

Paul had one, too. You can remember huddling around that radio like it was a mouthpiece for some god. The static grew choppier and choppier over the first few days. The channels dwindled. Eventually, it stopped working altogether and you didn't learn much about what happened in the outside world. You did learn that London was one of the quickest cities to succumb to the infection. Then, Paris, Bangkok, and Chicago.

Everywhere.

You process the new information as you keep walking through the tents, peering into some opened crates to see if anything is left— nothing is.

Now you know Ghost left his post when he found out about the virus. He stocked up on supplies and then got Blue and her mom. By the way Blue mentions her, it must be an old loss. How long did her mother survive with them, then? Did she use to live in the cabin with them?

You don’t know why your stomach grows tight, but the questions in your brain fade once the military base comes into view.

"Finally," Blue sighs rather dramatically.

A high, chain-link fence surrounds the place. There are a few buildings and some abandoned vehicles that look like jeeps. The fence has multiple gaps cut into it so climbing is unnecessary. Ghost leads the way. You continue sniffing the air. With your bandaged hand, you keep your bow poised and subconsciously walk closer to their footsteps. 

Ghost takes you to the main building in the center. The British flag flutters beside it on a pole, faded and as meaningless as the one sewn on Ghost’s bicep.

"Are we going through the barracks again this time?" Blue perks up.

"We have to go through 'em to get to the armory,” he says.

"Cool. There might be some good shit left behind."

There isn't much good shit, actually.

You don't know what the other military base they went to was like, but this one is unsettling and seems to be ransacked. Sunlight pours in through the shattered windows. Scattered papers and strewn bones decorate the tile floors. Thick cobwebs hang in the corners.

As you walk through the hallway of old dorms, Blue and Ghost stop looking in them after the first four turn out to contain only tipped-over cots, walls smeared with old blood, and even a few scampering vermin that make her yelp and grab hold of Ghost's arm.

He grows stiffer than usual. You don’t have to pry off the skull mask to know what he is thinking. Ghost is not the only person who thought of coming here. If these rooms are mostly empty, then what is left in the armory?

Still, you check out a few more of them on your own as they walk up ahead. You rummage through closets and drawers. You find three pairs of men's socks. More useful than one might think.

In one room, you kneel down by the unkempt cot to dig a black backpack out from under it. You can’t believe that Ghost, as big as he is, ever slept on these things. The backpack’s zipper catches as you try to open it, the metal teeth rusted, so you cut a hole in the fabric with your knife. Inside, you find another military-grade knife to add to your arsenal and some wrapped ready-to-eats.

When you check the closet, the sight of a full skeleton causes you to jump back in a startled step, a few rats running out between your boots.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter, noticing a bullet hole in the skull. A handgun lies beside the body, but you discover the magazine to be empty. Whatever bullet it once had was likely spent on this person's suicide. You stick it in your bag, anyway. A preserved uniform hangs loose on the bones. There is a mouth-sized tear in the forearm of the right sleeve, fitting for a bite. In the breast pocket, a silver chain spills out. Curiously, you grab it. A dog tag with an engraved name catches the light. John MacTavish. You run a thumb over the letters.

“Sorry, John.”

You decide to respectfully put it back in the pocket, and head out, satisfied enough with your modest finds. It’s not like you own as much as Ghost does. You leave the room and run to catch back up with them.

"You okay? Find anything?" Blue asks.

"Not much," you quietly admit. "A knife and some new socks."

"Finally. Your old ones are starting to stink," she remarks with a playful smirk.

You scrunch your nose at her, making a face. “Gee, thanks."

She returns the teasing gesture just before Ghost’s arm ushers her behind him.

The moment he does, your guard rises back up. You slap an arrow onto your bow. You smell them before you see them. Four - no, five - drag out of opened doorways up ahead along with a cacophony of whistled moans. Most are still dressed in the same military uniforms as the skeleton you found. One isn't wearing anything at all. It’s disgusting.

Ghost doesn't bother to let Blue practice this time.

He shoots the faster, fresher one first as it runs up to them. For the slower ones, he saves his ammo and opts for the axe. The sight of him effortlessly striking their skulls is almost enough to distract you. Almost. Your fingers release the string and send a headshot to the last one. It is a perfect shot. An arrow straight through the milky-white eye. One of your best.

You meet his eyes just as he slips the axe back to his waist, shooting him a raised brow. The two of you hold an awkwardly long stare-off. Though you loathe to admit it, you hope for some type of approval - for once - but all he gives is a short nod.

Blue retrieves the arrow for you and you tuck it back into your quiver.

"Great aim, Twix," she quips. "Where did you learn how to use your bow?"

"My old friend taught me a bit," you say as the three of you step over the fallen corpses.

"What was his name again?"

"Paul."

"Oh, right." She pauses, and then: "Were you having sex with him?"

"Jesus Christ, kid," Ghost says.

"What?" She peers up at him.

Before he can say anything else, you answer with a light flush crawling up your neck, “No, I wasn’t. He was just my friend.”

The three of you make it to the armory.

The aluminum door is already parted open. Ghost clicks on a flashlight and gives the room a quick sweep of fluorescent light before entering.

A number of pried-open crates and olive-green cabinets litter the inside. Drawers hang open like a tornado ripped through. A few stray rifles lay scattered on the floor. Ghost picks up each one and checks for cartridges. Empty. Each rifle is thrown back on the floor with more force than the previous. He needs more ammo, not more guns.

Whatever was in this armory is gone. This truth hangs heavy in the air. The mood shifts. Blue doesn’t talk. Billows of growing frustration roll off Ghost's body as he continues to search through every crevice and every drawer for almost an hour.

You know what he is feeling, even if he half-expected this.

It is a feeling that made you cry in the empty pharmacy. For Ghost, it ends up driving a clenched fist into one of the cabinets, dented metal left in its wake. He swears explosively. Another shudder runs through your spine, stealing your breath, but it feels far different from the one his soft voice invited.

"Is there... is there anywhere else we can check, Dad?" Blue speaks up softly. “Maybe in all those cars outside?”

He takes a moment to breathe before answering. "We don't have time to check ‘em all.”

“Well, maybe we could come back in the morning and look a bit more?”

“Maybe,” he says, but you read the tone in his voice. It is unlikely there is ammo left in the vehicles, and even if there is, it is definitely not as much as he was hoping to have found in here.

Before leaving, he stuffs one of the rifles in his backpack. An uncomfortable silence consumes the journey back through the hall.

You make it outside again. The afternoon has aged. You need to get back to that hunting cabin by the river before the threat of dark.

Ghost guides you back towards the fence.

You hear Blue's soft humming. The flap of the old flag. Your own steady heartbeat.

And then, out of nowhere, he stops and grabs Blue's arm to bring her to a halt beside him. He looks around. Confused, you scan the view up ahead of you, but all that is there are a few of those military jeeps and the fence you entered through. You sniff the air. It doesn't smell particularly awful. 

Then, the cause for Ghost's unease arrives loud in your ears.

A single gunshot sounds from a direction you can't discern. Your heart stutters. The suddenness freezes you for a moment. In your peripheral, you think you catch a brush of movement in some bushes to your right.

Ghost quickly pulls Blue behind one of the vehicles for cover. Only when you feel the rush of another bullet whizzing past your shoulder do your legs finally move— so fast that your feet catch on the ground and you stumble down beside them. Your knees dig into the earth as you land on your hands, but you quickly lift up and press your shoulder against the side of the car. 

You choke. "Ghost… people."

People are fucking shooting at us, is what you mean to say. Panic steals your voice.

Who? How many?

Another bullet ricochets off the other side of the car, clanking against the metal. And then another. Glass shatters. 

Ghost doesn't respond to you. Underneath the loud sounds, a soft voice whimpers. You finally look to where Blue is propped up against the large tire, Ghost kneeling at her front. His hand is tightly clamped over the side of her right thigh, and it is now that you notice the blood soaking through her jeans and his glove.

Blue's blood.

Crimson and glistening.

She whimpers again and her fingers twist the fabric of his coat.

"Dad, it— it feels like it's burning," she cries out, her cheeks turning wet from a sudden onslaught of tears.

"Fuck. I know, baby. I know."

She flinches when another gunshot rings out. "W-What do we do?"

You try to form a proper thought— try to make sense of everything. Before you can, Ghost grabs your hand, firmly replacing his hold on her wound with yours. The warm liquid immediately drenches your palm and you swallow, pressing as hard as you can, attempting to pack it crudely.

He speaks decisively. "Stay here with her. Wrap it up.”

"Ghost, you don't know how many fucking people there are," you say, panic turning your voice into something unrecognizable as you place your other hand on his arm. The muscles tense and leap.

“I didn't fucking ask you. I am telling you. Now do it."

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to protest again, but you wouldn’t even if he did because you fully realize that this is the best course of action. He needs to get rid of them. You need to tend to her wound. A strangled cry leaves Blue's lips when he departs. You coax her with soft hushes.

"It’s okay. He'll be right back.”

Urgently, you sling the bag off your shoulder and take out your own med kit. You don’t think twice about it. Not for a second. Not when all you can think about is making sure her soft, blue eyes stay open. When you move your hand from her thigh, the sight worries and relieves you at the same time.

You don't know much about bullet wounds, but you know where the femoral artery runs, and by the looks of it, it was missed. Still, a nice chunk of her flesh has been torn, revealing obliterated muscle. You don't see any bone or bits of metal, but it is hard to see much of anything with all the blood.

With fingers that shake, you use the same gauze she nursed your hand with to begin tightly dressing her thigh. As you do, your eyes flash up and around in a feeble search for where Ghost could be, but you can’t see him from behind the vehicle.

"Is it bad?" she asks, voice laced with a tremor. When your gaze returns to her, you notice that pale lips replace her usual rosy-pink ones. Her forehead is sheened with sweat.

"It looks worse than it is," you say.

"Are you... are you telling me the truth?"

"I am. Promise," you whisper. "Friends don't lie, right?"

Sporadic gunfire continues to pierce your ears. It sounds more distant now. You have no idea if it belongs to Ghost or whoever these people are. You push the uncertainties away, assuring yourself that he can handle however many of them there are, and focus on tying off the gauze, desperate to keep her blood in.

Blue suddenly blurts out, “Twix.”

You look up and meet her eyes. They are pointed at something behind you.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I'm in severe pain cause of endometriosis right now, can we get more loganxwadexdisabled!reader :3

"Out fucking cold," Wade declared.

Logan grunted, nodding wordlessly. He knew that. He could hear the change in your breathing once the medication kicked in. And again when sleep finally won out.

"You okay, Peanut?"

"Sure. Just glad she's not fucking screaming anymore."

"Pretty sure the screaming was mostly frustration," Wade hummed. "I had days like that where I just wanted to scream because it fucking hurt and there was nothing I could do about it."

In the dark of the bedroom Logan readjusted to be able to see both of you. Wade had a hand in your hair still, watching you with an expression that was hard to read. "And she can't even remember not hurting like that- I don't think."

Logan put his hand on top of Wade's and Wade smiled wryly, "If she could fight we'd be fucked."

"Probably," Logan snorted.

"Looks like you get to be all big and bad and tell her boss she's staying home tomorrow-"

"Good luck with that."

Wade grinned, "I had to double her fucking dose. Tomorrow morning she won't even know what day of the week it is. We could tell her it's Saturday and she'd probably buy it as long as I make pancakes and no on turns on the news."

Logan huffed a laugh and laid his hand on your back when you stirred in your sleep, making a soft little whimper that made him wince. "She's gonna be pissed."

"But she'll feel better," Wade said confidently. "Naps, kisses, and having hunky guys at her beck and call? If that doesn't fix some shit I don't know what will."

"Not a goddamn nurse-"

"Me either, Logi-bear," Wade reminded, "But-" He looked down at your sleeping form meaningfully. "Who else is gonna do it?"

A soft growl was the only answer but, he knew that it was true. You needed rest. Bad pain days were exhausting. They'd both seen you come home looking dazed and drained- like it took all your mental energy just to deal with it. But it had never been LIKE THIS. You'd learned to manage.

But this scared him. Scared them both.

_______________

In the morning, when you did wake up, Logan peered around the bathroom door and watched you carefully.

You sat up slowly and had to get your bearings. Eyes are half-open and still red. And his chest hurt. He wondered how many mornings you'd had to do this alone.

"How do you feel?" he asked, wiping shaving cream off his face and coming over.

"Like I got hit by a truck," you rasp.

"How's the pain?"

"It's there," you tell him, starting to get out of bed. You have to move. Your head feels like it's full of cotton. Your mouth feels like you were licking bowling alley carpet. And You're starving. "But I gotta get ready and-"

"We called you in," Logan said.

"But I gotta work and I need to get my stuff done today so I can-"

"Your boss was more than willing to give you a day off," Logan said, waiting to catch you if you wavered as you tested your feet on the floor. "You over did it, yesterday, huh?"

"I was fucking mad. It's just so fucking stupid. Every fucking year-"

"Hey," he stopped you and tilted your chin up. Bending down to kiss you gently. "don't hurt yourself just to prove something."

"Pot-"

"It's different," he grumbled.

"It's really not. I just don't heal." You take a deep breath and haul yourself to your feet with a groan. He watched you go, making your way to the shower and frowned. But he let you go, keeping an ear out in case you needed help as he went out to find Wade.

"Mornin' Peanut," he said, "How's our patient?"

"Getting a shower," he said frowning as he poured a cup of coffee.

"Someone's been dick slapped with some reality this morning," Wade said kissing his head, " 'S'matter, Logi-bear? Did our girlfriend just remind you-"

"Shut up," Logan growled. It was different. No one expected you to do all that shit. Sure you COULD. You weren't helpless. Or as fragile as he thought when he first met you. But- it was different.

"That's a yes," Wade hummed, kissing his head.

He growled and Wade huffed a laugh; both of them paused for a moment when there was a clatter from the bathroom and Logan half shrugged, "Shampoo bottle."

Wade nodded and carried on, putting food on the table; fussing with details. Making sure that there were pancakes with hearts on them for you and grumpy faces for Logan.

You come out in fresh pajamas and Wade bounds over, tilting your chin up and kissing your face, "She lives!" he declared. "And she looks like heaven."

"I feel like death warmed over."

"Well you'll feel better with pancakes," he said, "and hot chocolate."

"I'm gonna go into a sugar coma," you tell him, pulling him down to kiss him.

"You can't be in a coma," Wade said, "we're educating Logan on pop culture today. And you have a full day of pampering ahead of you-"

"Wade I'll be okay I just need-'

"Ah-ah-ah," he said, guiding you to the table. "This is for us," he explained. "We're traumatized. And now you just gotta let us get it out of our system. And I prefer to do it by making sure you're spoiled. Logan would probably fight your spine if he could figure out a way to do it."

[i-dont-wanna-be-me-anymore]

Friends? | Five H. x male!reader | Part 2!

Five Hargreeves x male reader

SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON 4 UNDER

CUT !!!!!

Summary: After a strange night of helping Five and his family and learning about his family’s secrets, Y/n, Five’s coworker and now work partner, wakes up the next morning to a shocking discovery. Inevitably, he’ll have no choice, but be sucked into the family’s antics and problems. This one is longer….Sorry. 🌛

Warnings: fluff, cursing, blood and (gun) violence, vomit, frenemies to friends, sexual tension, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 ‼️

A/n: Since some people actually liked my idea for this, I’ll just continue to write more about this, and yes, a lot of this stuff will start to rear away from what happened in the canon. Steve Blackman, sleep with one eye open.

Part 1

• • • • •

When he wakes up, he’s faced with a blinding headache and sweat covering his body.

Y/n sits up slowly, the sweat dripping down his body, but he was thankful he didn’t wear a shirt when he slept. He checked the time and realized it was 3 am, making him groan.

He got up, turning the shower on as he tried whatever he could to nurse his state of dizziness and nausea for the next couple hours until he went to work.

He tried everything. He took a cold shower, he took some pain medication, he drank pepto bismol to relieve his nausea, he tried to rest more, and yet nothing helped.

He decided against calling in sick for work, a part of him wanting to talk to Five and discuss the missing person’s case, and then another part just wanted to see him.

He got to the building and tried his best not to think about the symptoms he was experiencing.

He started to become agitated. His exhaustion and headache becoming a bad mix in him, like he was mad, but he didn’t know at who.

He decided maybe an energy boost will try and relieve it. When he tried to grab some coffee, he accidentally knocked his hand into one of his coworkers, apologizing as he didn’t look in their direction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to-“ a thud.

As he picked up the coffee pot, he looked in the direction that he heard the body drop, seeing that the person he accidentally knocked into was now on the floor, groaning.

“Oh shit, are you alright?” The man looked at him.

“Do you want me to get some help?” Y/n touched the guys uncovered arm, skin coming in contact with one another as Y/n gasps.

He feels the exhaustion leave his body, the man’s eyes roll back and he passes out on the floor.

Y/n quickly lets go, seeing that the area where he touched his hand was a light glow of yellow. He backs away from the man, looking around to see if anyone saw, and thankfully, no one did.

He got up, rushing to grab his belongings as he went up to someone, sweat still sticking to him as he was still hot and dizzy.

“Hey, can you tell Lance I’m taking a sick day? Thanks,” he rushes out to the lobby of the building, pausing as he felt a rush of pain shoot into his head.

He winced, grabbing his head as he stumbled a little, grabbing the attention of his partner.

“Y/n!” Five called out, almost tripping down the stairs as he basically ran over to him and grabbed his arm.

“Five? What the- where are we going?” Five turns to him once they’re outside the building.

It’s then that Y/n sees what Five fully looks like at the moment.

Sweat is dripping down his forehead, his eyes are twitching. Five’s shaking as he holds his partner’s arm, or maybe he was shivering. It was hard to say.

“You need to come with me,” Five states.

“What are you my boss now?”

“Something’s happening to you, and I know it, okay? You have the same symptoms as me, so I’m going to try and figure this all out before it gets any worse for you, okay?”

For the first time since they started working with each other, it felt like Five truly cared for Y/n. Which was strange and out of the ordinary for him. So, despite the voice that was yelling at him to yank his arm away and run away from him, Y/n nodded.

With that, they hurried over and got to a broken down building, that Y/n soon learned used to be their home in the other timeline.

When they got there, Y/n looked around seeing that some of Five’s siblings from yesterday were there, but not all of them. He saw Diego, Lila, and Luther there, but no Allison, Viktor, Klaus, or Ben.

“Wait, what’s he doing here, Five?” Luther asked, not bothering to cover himself up, even though was only wearing a g-string.

“He’s here because, oddly enough, he’s experiencing the same symptoms as us-“ Five glances over at Luther, “or at least us three.”

“What the fuck is happening to me?” Y/n mumbled to himself, his arms holding his body as he leaned against a nearby wall, staying away from everyone. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

Five looked over at him.

“Here,” Five went over and tried to grab his hand, but Y/n pulled it away.

“Watch the skin, I accidentally made Eric from human resources pass out when I accidentally touched his hand,” Luther, Diego, and Lila look over at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, what?” Lila asked, trying not to look in his exact direction due to her own problem.

Five thought for a moment, trying to not fall over as his body swayed, becoming unsteady.

“Ok…” Five started, “okay, so, try to relax, calm your mind and focus on, you know, not…doing..that?”

Despite the poorly worded advice, Y/n did just that. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and tried to calm his mind as he tried to ignore the ache in his hands.

The sting slowly faded away, becoming less hurtful and more calming as he focused on letting his muscles relax and the joints in his hand crack.

He slowly opened his eyes to see Five staring down at their hands as he was able to hold it while not pasing out.

The siblings who started to come in, Allison and Klaus, saw the two at the entrance of the living room and silently reacted to it.

“Come on,” Five led him over to the couch, sitting next to him so he was now between the armrest and Five.

The siblings all argued and bickered with each other around the two, and as much as Y/n wanted to argue and yell at Five about the hell was going on, he just stayed silent, feeling Five lean into him as he fought to stay awake.

“Someone explain what the hell is going on here, quick?!” Viktor shouted over the others who were yelling.

“Well, Viktor, that’s what we’re all trying to figure out,” Luther started to yell at Diego and told everyone to not look at him, and up until this point Y/n hadn’t. But, as he did, he saw that his body was a lot hairier than a regular person, and since meeting him yesterday, he either looked like he pumped himself full of steroids or had a drastic change to his body.

“I SAID DON’T LOOK AT ME!” Y/n quickly looked away as Five shouted at him.

“Hey! Don’t yell at him, alright? You’re drawing attention to yourself by telling everyone not to look at you!” He groaned, his vision getting blurry.

He then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, at least you’re back to your old self, the rest of us feel like someone injected motor oil into our veins,” that’s when Klaus perked up and admitted that he felt great, his voice only slightly muffled by the mask he was wearing.

Lila joined in on the bickering as she addressed her own problem, one that almost made most of them lose their heads.

Five dragged Y/n by the arm down to the ground, Lila’s laser just barely missing them both times she did it.

They then all tried to calm Viktor down as he started to power up, the house now shaking as Y/n fell back on the couch, head falling back against the edge.

“Relax, Kodiak Jack,” a voice emerged from the corridor as the last Hargreeves brother appeared, seemingly with a tail now.

“It was me.”

“I know you’re all too terminally emo to do what had to be done, so I made an executive decision and spiked your sake with the marigold,” Y/n scoffed, eye twitching as he wanted to rip him apart.

“Why am I not surprised?” Five shook his head.

“I know we just met—actually that’s exactly why I am mad, why the fuck did you have to go and spike mine? I’m not like you guys, I wasn’t born with this!” He gestured to his hands as he yelled at Ben.

“You had no right to do that, asshole!” Viktor shouted.

“Oh, trust me, you’ll thank me later. Even you, newbie,” Viktor grew even more mad at that comment, because it’s exactly like he said, he wasn’t like them, he didn’t want it.

“Yeah, or I’ll kick your ass right now!” He threatened.

“Oh yeah, now that I would love to see,” Ben sat down, almost on Allison, but she frantically moved away, not wanting to touch his tentacles.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s with the tail?” Y/n snickered, making Ben turn to him.

“I don’t know, they won’t go back in!” They all started to touch or make fun of his tails and he started to say that he was feeling better than ever.

He started to rub some of the marigold onto his teeth, making Five walk up to him and snatch it away.

Klaus then explained how he didn’t feel sick because he didn’t drink in the first place, like the rest of them because of the fact he was sober and didn’t want to go down that path again.

“Wow, I’m both proud and jealous of you,” Y/n gave a small smile to him, making Klaus look at him.

“Thank you!” He pouted, happy that someone actually cared.

But all their heads turned to Viktor and Ben as they started to fight, and Y/n didn’t even both trying to stop them as he was enjoying seeing him get beat up. That and he just felt like it wasn’t his place.

When they stopped, Ben started to speak.

“Give me one good reason as to why we shouldn’t have our powers back?”

“Well, you gave someone powers who didn’t want or have them in the first place?”

“Yeah, and maybe because we ended the world three times?”

“I’m sorry?” Y/n sat up because of that.

“And saved it three times,” Diego butted in.

“Well, that parts highly debatable, Diego,” Y/n’s head snapped over at Five.

“I’ll explain later,” Five reassured, trying to calm his new partner down to the best of ability.

God, he hated him so much, but at the same time he felt the need to care about him just as much.

Feelings were rushing through Five that he had no idea how to feel about, and he didn’t stop thinking about them until Ben threw up on the carpet.

He offered the idea to go back to the laundry mat and grabbed his coat, still holding the marigold.

He placed it in his pocket as he hesitantly placed his hand on the other’s back.

“Come on, I’ll fix this, I promise,” Y/n looked up at him, eyes half lidded as he stood up.

“You know, this is the most I’ve seen you care about someone who wasn’t your family. And, you’re never this nice to me,” Five blinks, stunned as he doesn’t say a word, the realization of his statement hitting him.

“Just…shut up and get in the van,” Y/n grinned at him, climbing in as they all headed off.

When they arrived, they only found an address hanging from the rack as they debated their options.

Either it was all a set up, and this guy, Sy, was tricking them, or he was actually in trouble.

Either way, they ultimately knew that they would be leaving to go to the address anyway.

New Grumpson, Maine.

Diego got excited and unlocked the doors, to which Five was about to get in front, but Lila already called it, so he just decided to get in the back with Klaus, Allison, and Y/n.

Allison got in the middle row first, then Five, then Y/n, and then Klaus, causing them to be extremely close to each other.

So close, to the point where Y/n’s leg was underneath Five’s as he adjusted himself, barely making it work.

“FIRST MISSION BACK!”

“No, not right now,” Y/n mumbled, covering his ears as Lila clapped in the front.

“Why are you so loud?” Five groaned.

• • • • •

After a few minutes of driving, the “Baby Shark” song started to play.

“Can you please change the song?” Viktor groaned, covering his ears.

“Can’t, it’s stuck.” Klaus started to bob his head to the music.

They groaned, and accepted it.

• • • • •

An hour later, the same song was still playing, and Y/n tried his best to control his breathing. He was on the verge of throwing up, but he kept himself composed as he looked over at his coworker.

Five was looking at Diego with a look. A look that screamed that he was about to strangle him in his seat at any moment, while his knuckles clenched, turning white.

Y/n didn’t know what else to do, so instead he placed a hand on his knee, his thumb rubbing it ever so slightly as Five slowly looked at him. And the anger he was feeling before suddenly, and strangely, disappeared.

• • • • •

“Diego, will you change that song!”

“I can’t!” Diego shouts to Luther.

“Oh god, that smells disgusting,” Y/n grimaces, gripping Five’s leg tighter for his own sanity.

Five struggles to keep his composure as his stomach begins to churn.

“Oh, what, you don’t like my kale-kiwi-carrot-cabbage kombucha?”

“For the love of god…” Y/n mumbles, his head falling back as he shakes slightly.

“Uh, Diego..?” He glances at the rear view mirror.

“Maybe, uh, pull over?”

“Nah man, we’re making good time,” Diego glances at the mirror to look back at Five, not realizing that they were all nauseous.

“I could care less about the time and more of my need to leave this car,” Y/n speaks up, holding his stomach.

They all start to argue as Diego insists on not pulling over, throwing his pee bottle at Lila which ends up knocking off her hands and to the middle row at Y/n, who chucks it to the backseat.

Luther screams at Lila to open the window who accidentally ends up breaking it. And as Diego tries to grab the broken handle, he swerves the car, causing everyone to get even more dizzy.

Lila starts to gag, throwing up in her seat.

It triggers a chain reaction as Allison and Y/n start to throw up, Five soon joining in as Klaus freaks out.

Viktor’s bubble bursts as he yells, shattering all the windows.

Diego pulls over and shouts at them, telling them to stop yelling, puking, and using their powers.

He then begins to gag, exiting the car to hurl.

They talk about what to do, and Luther mentions something.

“It’s only another 13 hours to New Grumpson,” they all groan as Five leans his head against Y/n, whose own falls on top of Five’s.

• • • • •

They end up falling asleep as Lila and Diego talk in the front seat.

Mid conversation, Lila begins to hesitate, looking back at Five to see him fast asleep against Y/n. The same man he was complaining about just two days ago at the birthday party.

“I don’t know, what have you been up to Five?” Ben takes a swig of his beer as Luther climbs out of the ball pit, joining them in their conversation as he drinks some punch.

“I hate my partner. He’s such a dick, and sometimes I really just want to grab a number two pencil off his desk and shove up into his scrotum just to get him to shut up,” Five illustrates, annoyed.

“Wow, that’s really graphic,” Ben laughs, seeing the look in his eyes.

“Jesus, Five, you work with the guy, you just gotta suck it up, like I do. There’s some guys I don’t wanna work with, but I still do,” Luther comments.

“Yeah, well, my job’s different. I can’t get a new partner until we finally solve a case together, which if I’m being honest will most likely never happen,” Five rolls his eyes as he looks away from them, taking another sip of his beer.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Y/n is the one that Five hates, right? At his job?” Lila asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Cause he looks like he enjoys his presence quite a lot,” Diego glances at the mirror, his eyebrows furrowing as he smiles.

“Weird,“ he shrugs, not really thinking about it.

“Do you think he likes him?” Diego laughs quietly.

“I doubt it, he hates him too much to be able to ever like one characteristic about him,” Diego says, snickering.

“You hated me when we first started to like each other,” she states.

“No, I didn’t hate you, I was annoyed by you-“ she gives him a look.

“No, no way, Uh-uh, Five is a lot of things, but I think we would know now if he’s gay by now…right?” Lila shrugs, smiling at Diego.

• • • • •

When they arrive to New Grumpson, Y/n and Five both head to the phone booth, looking at each other before shoving one another out of the way, trying to get to it first.

“Move. Over!” Y/n shoves Five away, who yelps almost falling into the snow before he catches himself with the booth’s wall.

He glares at Y/n, who starts to call the town, looking for two people; Sy Grossman and Jennifer Grossman.

Five stands behind him, listening to him speaking to the operator, hearing that there’s no listings of either.

“There’s no Sy Grossman or Jennifer Grossman listed here,” Five announces, making Y/n roll his eyes as he puts the phone back down.

They agree that they need to split up and Diego walks out from behind the van wearing, what looks like, a harness.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughs, making Five smile at him before it quickly drops as he looks away from him.

Five couldn’t figure out what the reason was for him to be feeling like this for him, Y/n, of all people. He was stubborn, and a prick, and way too comfortable around him, even if at times he did like it, a lot.

He shook the thoughts away as he heard Diego say it fits like a glove.

“Yeah, OJ’s glove…” Five nods, smiling again as they split up.

Diego and Lila go one way as Five takes Y/n with him, heading to an area with a fair going on.

• • • • •

Y/n looks around, seeing a cart selling hats and gloves for the weather.

“Come on,” He grabs Five by the upper arm, pulling him to the cart despite his disproval.

“What are we doing?” Five asks, letting himself be taken by the other man.

“Buying me gloves,” He smiles, technically asking Five.

“We’re doing that?” Five asks, pointedly.

“Well, you.” Five scoffs.

“Need I remind you that you are the reason I have these god awful powers now?”

“How is that my fault? My idiot brother was the one who spiked the drinks, not me?”

“Who was the one who asked me to go with him to the restaurant?” Five goes silent. Y/n puts his finger behind his ear as if to listen to him better.

“You got me in a box here, you win,” Five pulls out his wallet as Y/n picks out some black leather gloves, handing to Five as he pays for them.

“Thank, Fivey.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Y/n, as an experiment, pokes Five’s cheek, making sure that he was still safe before continuing on to put to the gloves on.

“Just seeing if I can still control it right now,” he responds and that reminds Five of something.

“Um, can you just keep a look out?” Y/n looks confused as Five moves to an area with less people, but still in public and balls his hands up into fists.

He starts to take a step and then step back, repeating this motion until Y/n starts to laugh a bit.

“What are you doing?” Five rolls his eyes.

“Why do you care?”

“Cause it looks like you’re constipated, Five,” Five stops, turning to him.

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Y/n repeats.

“Why do you always seem to want to piss me off every single second we’re around each other?”

“Um, because it’s funny?” Y/n looks at Five as he looks like he’s trying to read him.

“Look, I don’t know what other ways to socialize than using my humor, and it’s gotten me this far,” Five chuckles, the cold air making his breath show.

“Why are you always such a hothead all the time?”

“I am not-!” Y/n raises his eyebrows as Five had stepped closer.

He backs down, relaxing as he comes face to face with him, but this time he doesn’t look like he’s threatening him.

“I am not a hothead, I just get annoyed by people who can’t seem to mind their business,” Y/n leans closer.

“Well, your business is my business now, thanks to your brother,” their inches apart as they look at each other, Five’s eyes change as he continues to look at him, softening.

“Look, I’m-“

“What are you guys talking about?” Diego comes up with Lila, who is still wearing her sunglasses to cover up her eye bags.

“Deciding which seasonal beverage to indulge in,” Five lies, smiling up at his brother.

Y/n’s lips had shut tightly as he looks down at the spot where Five’s lips used to be, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to shake a thought away.

“Why’d he feel the need to lie? Is he-? No, there’s no way,” he thought.

“And?”

“I’m getting some muller wine for myself, and uh, Y/n, here is getting the cider,” Diego looks at, the still dazed, Y/n as he just offers up a smile.

“Okay..” he looks over at Lila.

“Well, we were just trying to decide that as well, I was thinking…” Y/n looks away from the two, looking over at the rides as Five continues to listen to the two bicker.

In the distance, there’s an elf, staring directly at Five and his family. Y/n could tell because as the elf realized he was looking, his eyes shifted slightly towards him.

“Five?” He nudges him, who looks in the direction he was looking in.

“That elf…he’s staring right at us,” Diego and Lila look.

“Who?”

“That elf. He’s been staring at you guys,” Y/n states, watching as his hand twists on the lever.

“Actually, maybe he just likes you,” Y/n snickers as Lila high-fives him, but Five doesn’t say anything. Now this was starting to worry him even more.

The man pulls the lever up, causing the rides to stop and everybody to turn their heads towards them as they start firing.

Y/n pushes Five in front of him, who is about to look back at him before he disappears in front of him.

“FIVE?!” Y/n keeps running, wanting to look over and try and see where he went, but he knows he can’t stop as the bullets fly past him.

He runs into the town, trying to find the rest of Five’s family.

A person with a shotgun comes up in front of him, causing him to pull out his gun and shoot, shooting any other people who had a gun pointed at him.

He hears gunfire closer to the outside of the town, causing him to run towards it, finding a Santa Claus running at Luther and two other siblings with two guns in hand.

Five soon blinks into the street, not realizing he’s getting shot at, but he’s quickly pulled down.

“Fuck,” Y/n tries to shoot, but he realizes he’s out of ammo. As the man gets closer to Luther, Y/n looks down, seeing one of the guys he shot move.

He looks up, wanting to try something with this new found power he has.

He leans down, tearing off a glove with his teeth as he touches the man’s hand, speeding up his death as he absorbs the energy he had.

With that, he starts to sprint towards the Santa Claus, running faster than he ever has before.

He catches up to the Santa Claus and grabs his face, pressing his exposed hands into it as they glow.

The gunfire stops, and Five peaks around Luther to see Y/n behind him, a yellow glow emitting from him as he absorbed the man’s energy.

His skin tightened. His cheekbones began to show as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

His suit became looser as he exhaled shakily, falling limp under Y/n’s grasp.

He looked down at his hands and then at the man in front of him, seeing him now dead.

He took his life force.

He stares at the glow in his hands, watching as it fades into his skin, energizing him.

All the muscle aches he had before from running, the nausea from his sickness, all gone.

Five practically jumps on him as he wraps his arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

He closes his eyes and inhales, his scent filling his senses before he realizes who and what he’s exactly doing this to.

Five quickly pulls away and pushes Y/n.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Wha-?” Y/n looks over to the three siblings, shocked that Five just said that to him, and then stunned as they’d never seen Five hug anyone since they were kids.

“I saved your life, Five! What did it look like I was doing?”

“You could have gotten killed!”

“Yeah, well I didn’t! In fact, I’ve never felt this alive in my entire life,” Y/n looks down at his hands, watching as they glow as he turns them over, and then fade.

Five’s about to say more, but they both turn their heads as soon as they hear the familiar tune that brought them to the town in the first place.

Diego was driving Wanda, running the Santa over as he stopped just in front of Y/n and Five.

“Get in! Now! Go, go, go!” Everyone crowded into the van as Klaus spit up blood in the backseat, a bullet wound in his chest.

Five looked around, trying to find a spot to quickly squeeze into.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Y/n pulled Five in by the waist, seating him on his lap and closing the door.

Diego started to drive away as the other van door closed, a dying Klaus in the backseat.

Y/n looked back at him, quickly shoving Five to get the marigold for him as everyone started to yell to give Klaus the marigold.

Allison hesitated, stumbling over her words as she didn’t want to give him it, but decided against it as she couldn’t let him die.

Not her best friend. Not Claire’s uncle. Not her brother.

“I’m so sorry, Klaus,” she whispered, shaking as she poured the rest of the marigold into his wound.

It took a minute, but Klaus soon gasped to life, asking what did they do, and started to cry in their arms.

Diego tossed one of the reindeers he had for his kids into the back, Klaus holding it as he grounded himself from coming back to life.

Y/n let out a deep breath, his head hitting the back of the seats as Five’s did too, reminding both of them of the position they were in.

Five didn’t dare to turn his head to the side, and neither did Y/n, now terrified if they ever hit a bump while driving.

He started taking deep breaths, slowly trying to calm his mind.

Five wanted to shift, he wanted to reposition himself so he wasn’t directly on…him, but he couldn’t. He was stuck. Afraid of what the outcome would be if he suddenly felt his-

“What?”

“We’re taking you to your father, Sy Grossman..?”

“Who?”

In an instant they were in mid-air, Five didn’t have a seat belt though.

Y/n quickly wrapped his arms around Five again, holding onto the roof of the car as they flipped, Five’s head falling back as he passes out.

Y/n starts to lift out of his seat, with Diego trying to reach over and block Five from flying around the car.

Diego’s hand touches Y/n’s and suddenly, Y/n feels a spike of energy.

His hand comes crashing down against the dashboard, quickly gripping onto it as he stabilizes both himself and Five. His nails carving into the material of the car and leaving highly noticeable marks.

Unfortunately for him, the car comes crashing down, and when it does, he gets whiplashed by the force of it and is knocked out, hand still grasping at Five’s waist.

He barely even notices when two unknown people come and take Jennifer away.

—

A/n: Okay! Hello! I did not realize the last part would get so much recognition, but it did. YIPEE! Thank you for actually liking this work. I’m going based off memory when writing these because I do NOT want to rewatch s4 cus i will scream and cry. Also I’m in between works rn, bc I have another Five fanfic called “Lost with You” and that I post on AO3 so. If you want to check it out, feel free to! Also! reader is like mid 20’s, because I felt like any older, AND DEFINETLY ANY YOUNGER, would be too weird to develop a relationship with Five. Because considering he’s mentally 63, and physically 18-19, it’s a little odd. Anyways, next part will hopefully be out soon.

[marc--chilton]

house md/saw crossover where lawrence transfers to ppth and adam comes with, on-record as an orderly but really it's just that he and lawrence aren't doing so hot if they're separated for too long quite yet.

wilson and lawrence become easy work friends, obviously, and lawrence appreciates how easily wilson accommodates him without being pitying about it (adjusting his stride when they walk, tentatively asking about his foot not for the gory details of his trap but out of medical curiosity; aspects he's clearly picked up via being friends with house)

adam, naturally, turns out well-liked by a Lot of people bc like.... it's adam. he'll chat up patients, nurses, doctors..... if he can remember sometimes he'll take the time to sit with some patients who don't get many visitors because he's all too familiar with the feeling himself of being hospitalized and left to heal alone in a sterile room since no family nor friends found him worth seeing. he learns about house through befriending ducklings (kutner and thirteen are his pals for sure; kutner asks to see his photography, totally unfazed when adam jokes that his most recent stuff is stalker shots, and adam likes to flirt mostly unseriously at thirteen both as a compliment to her and so he can get a listen on her insane dry wit) (actually adam/thirteen would go crazy. there could be a whole subplot where ppl find out they hooked up but they're both super chill about it bc they were never aiming for being a Thing, they just wanted to check out sex with each other. and it was fine so it's not even a deal to either of them, let alone a big deal)

he's not happy to admit it but adam is a little terrified of house. just a bit. just based off the things he's heard from literally All Over the hospital. so when house corners him and demands to know what he's heard (he's annoyed bc adam can be slippery when he wants to be and house wanted to try to needle out jigsaw info on him; house is almost positive he could catch jigsaw before the cops could) adam is quick on the draw. "that you're funny as hell, scary as shit, and way smarter than me. hey, while you're staring me down like this, you wanna use your x-ray vision and see if i still have bullet fragments in my arm? i've been starting to think they missed some back at angel of mercy"

after that house seems to?? approve of him?? he's funny, he's got snark, he's got problems..... he ticks all the boxes for someone house would find himself befriending. adam is wary on returning the sentiment, too suspicious from all the conniving things he's been told house has done in the past, but he does take house up on the offer of destressing in his office if lawrence is busy/he's afraid of annoying him (recurring fear particularly at work) so. yea

[lara-cairncross]

Hiii Lara!!

I have a question that may or may not have anything to do with a little something I'm writing 🤭 (the detail is so tiny and actually has no effect on the story, but I'm a sucker for authenticity and the information is probably handy for anything else i want to write later *cough Mikey's whole situation cough*)

sooo, what's your opinion on Medic Leo? would he have some basic or in depth first aid knowledge?

.... can I make him have in depth first aid knowledge? 🤩

if you have answered this before, my bad, ive completely forgotten your answer 😅

holy shit holy shit Beans is writing again??? PEAK INCOMING???? OMG--

i'm calm i'm calm i'm calm everything is fine. i'm very calm and normal and fine. this is fine. yes yes.

Assuming you're asking specifically about fae!Leo for this (let me know if I'm mistaken lol), thennnn the answer is somewhere in the middle i think? Fun fact-- out of all four fairy boys, Raph is actually the one with the most in-depth medical knowledge! A huge part of his job/talent is taking care of injured animals, so he's actually super well-versed in treating all sorts of injuries on both animals and fairies, since fairies all have some sort of animal/yokai features :D he's not as skilled as an actual healing fairy, ofc, but he's pretty dang good at working with smaller injuries that don't require a healer's expertise!

When it comes to Leo though, I would definitely say he's the second most well-versed in medical stuff. For one thing, he's usually the one who goes on errands to collect medical herbs/supplies for Raph and his animals (lol delivery boy), so it's crucial that he has an eye for what to look for! I can also totally envision Raph roping him into a treatment session/medical procedure whenever he drops off the supplies too. If Raph's hands are too big for something, Leo is gonna be forced to help out whether he's grossed out or not lmao

For another thing, Leo kinda has to have at least a basic understanding of treating injuries for his own safety. As a fast-flier, he travels around a LOT in order to gather requested materials or make deliveries. If he gets hurt while he's far away from the Hidden Hollow, then it's pretty much up to him to take care of himself and treat whatever injuries he has until he can get home! That's why he's got almost enough pockets to rival Donnie lmao-- extra pixie dust storage, and some basic medical supplies in case he gets hurt on the job :D

TLDR: I wouldn't say his understanding of first aid is necessarily "basic", but it's not super in-depth, either? He definitely knows enough to get by, and even to play nurse with Raph if he really needs to, but it's not really his "thing" as much as it is for Raph. He can certainly take care of an injured brother though ^-^

Hope this helped!! I can't wait to see what you do 🧡🧡

[mockerycrow]

Undercover II (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

Summary: After being waterboarded, your body is too exhausted and injured to handle any more. Soap and you are formally introduced outside of an interrogation setting.

[WARNINGS: medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, angst.]

“Any dog, you put him in the corner, no matter if they’re vicious or not, they’re going to bite back.” -Mike James.

WAKING UP AFTER such harsh injuries is weird. It’s like the world keeps trying to materialize, distant voices that aren’t too definite, textures under my fingers aren’t quite recognizable yet, not being able to tell pain or pleasure from one another.. I wake up first with sensations across my body—pain, numbness, open wounds, closed wounds—cold, hot, burning, piercing. It makes me wish maybe I did die by Makarov’s hand. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to bare the burden of everything I know, everything I did to prove I was.. loyal, to that sick, sonofabitch.

I feel incredibly heavy, sandbags instead of muscles, my throat feels like I swallowed glass—that’s almost worse than the pain I feel in the rest of my body. The next thing I hear is a faint monitor, maybe two different ones? I can’t tell. My mouth is dry so when I swallow, nothing comes down my throat, but the retraction of my muscles in my neck ache nonetheless. I cough quietly and I gain just enough energy to open my eyelids. I find myself in a.. infirmary type room. I go to move my hand over my gut but metal sliding against metal hits my ears. My unfocused gaze hovers over to my hand and I see one of my hands is handcuffed to the railing of the gurney. My heart drops into my gut as I weakly pull on the handcuffs, a quiet sigh leaving my lips.

Fuck.

My free hand rests gently on top of my gut—they had to have cut me open or some shit, because this hurts like fucking hell on Earth. I feel like my goddamn intestines are about to spill out. Or maybe it’s the aftermath of Makarov’s torture hitting me.

I look down at myself and I’m changed into a fresh hospital gown, a surprisingly high quality blanket draped across my body. My free arm has an IV in my arm and in my vein in my hand, connected to a dispenser not too far away. I look up at the hooks decorated with liquid medicine—definitely a pain killer, I don’t know about the other bags, though. Can’t read from here. My hand goes my face and I feel two tubes; an oxygen tube gently hooked into my nose and a.. I think a feeding tube? My fingers go down to my jaw and I find a bandage wrapped around my neck and jaw, my eyebrows furrowing together. Jesus. Maybe he did break my jaw. Why can’t I feel it, then? I lay my head back down onto the paper pillowcase, closing my eyes for a few seconds. So, now I have to make a plan. Did they patch me because I was about to die? They know I have a lot of valuable information, so they need me alive just enough for that stuff. Makarov’s remaining warehouses, his extensive plans, everything. Do I keep my mouth shut? Yes. I have to remain loyal to my true team, not the one who’s planning ripping populations apart, desecrating entire cities—

The nearby door opens and my eyes shoot open as my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. A doctor comes in with a nurse and they pause at the sight of me being awake. I stare back at them for a moment before the doctor smiles softly at me. “You’re finally awake. That’s good, we nearly lost ya.” His accent is a thick southern-american (U.S.) one. I don’t answer—I wish I could thank them, but I have to be Zhenya. The doctor turns to the nurse and murmurs something just out of my hearing range, the nurse nodding in return and leaving the room, leaving me alone with the doctor. He begins to approach me and my heart monitor immediately begins to spike, as if I’m in danger—because I am—I have no idea who this guy is or if he plans on torturing me, too! The doctor stops in his tracks, his voice coming out as comforting and soft, “Woah there, pal. I’m not here to harm ya, just here to check your vitals. Ask you a few questions, too.”

My hands clench into weak fists as I keep my eyes on him—wait, American??—I don’t have much time to think about that as the doctor comes over to my IV machine, glancing at the numbers before looking at me with a soft, sympathetic look. “My name is Doctor Erikson. Are you in any pain?” I hesitate to answer but I give him a subtle nod, my hand resting back over my stomach. Doctor Erikson turns to the IV machine and ups the drip dosage, glancing at me. “Alright, now I have some basic questions for you, okay, hon? You were out longer than expected, so it’s just prodecure.” I answer with another nod, keeping my eyes training on Dr. Erikson. He has dark skin with tightly curled hair, put up into a neat bun. He has square glasses resting on his big, arched nose. Dr. Erikson is clean shaven, a scar resting on his cheek—looks quite old, probably from a shaving accident when he was younger. He has big, welcoming and soft brown eyes that you don’t feel like they stare into your soul. In this line of work, we need more people like him. His eyes may be soft, but you can tell he’s seen some things. I rapidly blink in order to focus; I naturally profile people when I feel.. on edge.

Dr. Erikson presses the end of his pen and the ballpoint end pops out with a click! He looks at me, a soft subtle smile remaining on his face. “What is the year?”

“2023.”

He nods and quickly checks something off—probably a box. “Who is the President of the United States?”

“Joe Biden.”

“What’s your name?”

I stare at him for a second and my heart stops for a moment before I answer with, “Zhenya. Zhenya Antonenko.”

Dr. Erikson and I stare at each other for a moment before he checks off two more boxes. He sets aside the clipboard on a counter nearby in the room. He keeps the pen and walks over, murmuring, “Keep your head still, follow the pen with your eyes only.”

Dr. Erikson begins to move the pen left and right, tracking my eye movement as I keep my eyes trained on the pen. After he doesn’t find any eye coordination discrepancies, he sets the pen down and grabs an otoscope, putting a singular use cone on the end, clicking the ‘on’ button, the end of the cone emitting light. He comes to my left side and gently puts the cone inside of my ear, checking for a few seconds. “You’ll have some visitors in a few moments, they will inform you of your medical injuries and what procedures we took.” He murmurs softer than he was before, considering how close he is my ears. My ear tingles as he removes the otoscope, coming around to the other side of the bed to check my other ear. I don’t respond. Dr. Erikson hums as he throws away the single use cone and murmurs ‘stare straight ahead’, using the little light from the otoscope to test my pupil dilation.

Fuck. I don’t want to see them again. Not now. My hand grabs the blanket, and then there’s a firm and quick knock on the door before the door swings open.

In comes fucking Laswell, Hudson, Mutton-Chops, and Mohawk.

What in God’s name is fucking going on??

Dr. Erikson puts the otoscope away and walks over to them, glancing back at me before talking. “They’re in a delicate state, physically and mentally,” He mutters, probably thinking I can’t hear. He isn’t good at being quiet with military dudes. His own people though, sure. “Be sure to play nice.” Hudson immediately approaches my bedside and I can’t help the hot and stinging tears that threaten to spill from my tear ducts—his soothing voice instantaneously makes my worries die down for a good 10 minutes. “You’re okay now, [Name]. The mission is over. You’re in good hands.”

I choke on a sob; of relief? Of devastation? Of need? Of grief? I don’t know.

I lift my handcuffed hand ever so slightly, my voice wobbly, “Why?”

“It’s a safety precaution,” Laswell says gently, approaching the bedside that Hudson is on. Mutton-Chops and Mohawk stay by the door, quietly eyeing me. I catch Mohawk’s eyes and I can’t read his emotion which makes me feel on edge; I turn back to my familiar faces. “S.. Safety precaution?” I question, glancing between them. They give each other a look—a look of pity—before Hudson speaks up. “You’ve.. been through a lot, [Name]. More than I can imagine. Until we have you go through a psychological evaluation, we’re keeping the cuffs on you.”

Oh. So like a caged animal.

My shoulders sink and I glance at the handcuffs, joy mixing with dread. “I know it’s hard, but we’re having Soap stay with you until we can have that psychologist come for you.” Laswell murmurs, gently grabbing my hand and squeezing it? avoiding the IV and it’s tape. I nod as I glance over at the men. “What kind of name is Soap?” I mutter, earning a snort from Mutton-Chops. Hudson looks at me worriedly, his wrinkles-in-the-corner-of-his-eyes kind of worried. I look back up at Hudson and look between him and Laswell a few times, biting the inside of my cheek. “Everything?” I ask. They don’t even need more than that to know what I’m talking about. “Everything.” He confirms with a nod. I take a deep breath—which I immediately regret because now it feels like my guts are trying to spill out again owowowowow—and I must wince because Laswell grabs a pillow from a nearby table and puts it on my abdomen. “Here, hold the pillow with soft pressure. It helps that weird feeling with your stitches. Learned it from the field.” She comments, her eyes scanning me like a worried mother. I nod as a thank you and use my free arm, applying pressure across my abdomen—gentle, mind you. Oddly enough, it brings me some level of relief. “We’ve provided Soap with a recorder so we can record your statement and stories, so you don’t have to repeat everything over and over.”

I nod silently—my throat feels like shit and I have no energy to speak, so might as well save what I do have for the statements..

Hudson clears his throat and glances at Laswell, then back at me, “Laswell and I have to go for a bit, since the operation has been revealed, we have a lot of shit to do.” He says with an unsatisfied tone; like he wants to stay by my side. My heart warms a bit from that— Hudson has always taken care of his team, made me feel like I belong. I crave for him to stay near me but I bite my lip, —and then quickly releasing it from the hold my teeth had on it because I one-hundred-percent forgot that my lip was injured—and shake my head. “Go,” I start. “It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere, right?” I attempt to make a joke, and Hudson tries to offer a stale chuckle—one he only does if someone got seriously injured.. It must be bad—and he squeezes my hand gently.

They murmur me their goodbyes, taking their leave, pushing the door open and walking out. Mutton-Chops follows them close behind.

That leaves me alone with Mohawk—“So you must be Soap, then.” I state as the man starts to approach my beside, his boots thumping against the infirmary floor. He offers a boyish grin that fits him quite well and he nods, grabbing a chair and easily pulling it kind of near the bed, but not too close. The distance suggests distrust, caution. Which is understandable because he did take place in my brief torture part two..

Like a wild animal, again.

“The one and only,” He chimes, his fingers fiddling with the recorder. Soap leans back in the chair, his eyes studying me for a second. “Doc said someone should give ya th’rundown of what happened, eh?”

I nod, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the pillowcase of the pillow across my stomach. Soap hums and tilts his head, his expression turning ever so slightly sad. “You had internal bleedin’ n’ broken ribs; one of which nearly pierced ye lung. Your jaw is fractured on yer right side, they had t’put a screw in. Your stabs wounds were pretty ‘typical’ by the doc’s standards, but they did have to open you up and repair th’abdominal wall. He said you’re lucky you didn’t lose any organs.”

Lucky.

Lucky.

Lucky.

That fucking word. “I’m lucky?” I bark out with disbelief. I know I am, but that phrase makes me so angry.

I look back at Soap whose lips are pursed together; he’s sitting up from my slight outburst which makes me look back down at my lap. Soap doesn’t say anything for a moment, the faint beeps of the monitors filling that empty space. When he does speak, he switches on the recorder. “This is Sergeant John MacTavish, Callsign Soap interviewing…” He trails off, holding the recorder out between himself so it can pick up his voice, as well as mine. I take a deep breath and let it go. “[Name] [Last Name].” Soap offers a mood lifting grin as he repeats his name back to me and murmuring the date. His lip curls just enough to show some of his gums by his right canine tooth, ever so slightly. I can’t help but wonder for a moment why he suddenly is so friendly, but I already know the answer to that. When you’re in this line of work, there are friends and there are foes. There are no frenemies in this game. You are either on their side or against it. Something I can relate to.

“What division are in, and your mission?” He has a professional tone for the sake of the recording. I don’t even know this guy it seems so unlike him that it makes me wanna roll my eyes into the back of my head until they get stuck there. “I’m a sergeant of Task Force Eclipse. My Captain is Tyler Hudson, and my teammate, besides my captain is Trinity Wilson, code-name Lake. My other teammate Sasha Miranov, code-name Coal, is KIA. Richard Jensen, code-name Tendril, had committed treason and had joined the very cause I’ve been fighting against. He’s also KIA.” I pause as my heart aches. “My mission began a few years ago, I was a special ops soldier that worked with the CIA, being placed wherever I was needed. Station Chief Kate Laswell called me into a special conference room where I was met with my future colleagues…”

I pause in the doorway as my eyes scan several different unfamiliar faces, sweeping the room on instinct. I spot Laswell, General Shepherd, and an old friend, Tyler Hudson standing in front of the round table where the three strangers are sitting. “Come in,” Laswell beckons, holding a thick, vanilla folder between her fingertips. The confusion is shared between amongst me and three strangers—I shut the door behind me. Laswell leans over the table and presses a button and the glass walls of the conference room become foggy and soundproof. “Sir.” I greet General Shepherd with a kind and professional tone, taking the seat closest to Laswell. He nods towards me, his hands folded neatly in front of him. His brow is pushed forward like something is troubling him; isn’t surprising, considering his position. Laswell holds up the folder as she begins to speak. “You must be wondering why I have called you all here today. You’re here because between Captain Hudson, General Shepherd and I, you four are the best for this job. You have not been given any details up until now because this quite possibly might be the most confidential mission you will ever work on in your time of service.”

Laswell places the folder down and motions to the person furthest from me. “Everyone, this is Richard Jensen. He will be joining us from MI6, along with—the girl who is next to him—Trinity Wilson. Then there is Sasha Miranov and [Name] [Last Name] from our very own CIA.” We look between each other wearily because Laswell still hasn’t said the nature of this mission, and General Shepherd hasn’t said a word at all this entire time. We give each other silent head nods because there will be time to get acquainted later. I put my hand on the table and fingers tap nervously against the glass top. Laswell steps out of the way of the wall with both Captain Hudson and General Shepherd. Hudson hands her a small remote which she murmurs a thank you, turning to said wall. It prompts all of us to look in the same direction and she presses a button and a projector projects a light box with a symbol of a moon and sun in the middle, hints of CIA and MI6 logos as well. She looks back at us, letting out another sigh laced with stress. “Today, you are no longer with your old units. You are now in Task Force Eclipse, lead by Captain Tyler Hudson; curtesy of CIA.” My eyebrows raise for a second because of the anticipation in my bones, in my veins. Working with Hudson?

She presses another button and pops up Richard Jensen’s face and basic information; his name, his age, blood type, occupation, whatever. “Also starting today, you are no longer yourselves,” Laswell presses another button and Jensen’s information fades into Russian, quickly translating back to English. My lips part in surprise as Laswell opens the vanilla folder, going around the table, passing out different documents to everyone. “Starting today, you are living as new people, from either Russia or Ukraine. You lived and grew up in these areas and share the same ideals as our enemy—who you will be working closely with.” No fucking way. There’s absolutely no fucking way—

“We have entrusted you five to work this undercover op, to weasel your way into Makarov’s organization and take information to relay it back to us. Is that clear?” Shepherd’s tone is rough, rude, and authoritative as always. He’s leaning his hand on the table, looking between all of us. I keep glancing between my documents, briefly glancing over the information before looking back up at him. “Sir, no offense, our mission is to.. be terrorists?” Trinity speaks up, her accent cutting through the air like a knife. Her tone shows she’s absolutely baffled, traced with incredulousness. “Yes. You will have to be prepared to commit acts you never would otherwise.” He responds, holding back his snappy response from her own. I look down at my paper and see my new name, my new age—very close to my actual one—my new backstory, fuck, even passports and other official documents are displayed with my new name. “You will have to work close with the group, even find your way under Makarov’s wing. We will set up times and dates for you to relay important information back to your Captain, and to me.” Laswell’s voice is a bit quieter in volume as the heavy mood sets in the room. I tense as I borderline feel everything just.. sink. “You all have worked undercover ops before, and you all have done incredibly well. This is why we trust you with this task.”

It was no secret the CIA and MI6 trusted some of the wrong people, and some of the right people.

taglist: @glitterypirateduck @darling006 @elowynnlane @hardnutpost [If you are not tagged and you’re here, it did not let me tag you.]

[xokohaneazusawa]

HEY ADELINEEEEE

i heard you were looking for kn8 and bllk requests >:)

to be honest i'll take anything related to sae or hoshina buuuttttt if we're talking specific fics/hcs

maybe hoshina with a medic partner :>

like uuuhh it takes place after his fight with kn10 and you're not allowed to treat him (from my knowledge, medics arent allowed to give proper treatment to relatives/close people) so you just sit there waiting for him to announce he's ok and then proceed to shout at him for being so reckless.

maybe i'm in love with hoshina, maybe i just want to shout at men 🤷🏻‍♀️

HIIIII LUMI!! I'm so sorry this took so long, shit was happening and it wasn't fun! But no worries, after writing a bunch of stuff for AP Lang and Psychology I had some time to actually work on something I wanted to do and conjured this up!!

There was only one sound that echoed through out the waiting area of the medical wing. The clicking of your shoes on the ground as you paced around the open space. The white of the walls was becoming more unbearable then it normally was. Being stuck in rooms all day that are just covered in white could make anybody go crazy. However, you weren’t only seeing white at the time, but also red. Memories sparking in your mind of Hoshina fighting an identified Kaiju, by himself?! You knew he was crazy, but nothing like this. You realized that you had already been pacing for about 10 minutes and clearly it wasn’t helping anything, so you took a seat in one of the many available chairs until somebody, anybody could give you some information about the well being of your boyfriend. You wouldn’ve felt a lot better had the JAKDF let you do the procedure yourself, but due to the ‘unethicality’ of it. You weren’t allowed to. Since he could get to other doctors in time it wasn’t considered an ‘emergency’ that you would have to have broken that moral code. So the only thing left to do was wait. Keep waiting.. And waiting… You finally stood up after about 2 hours of waiting and just as you were about to ask one of the nurses sitting at the front about updates on his condition, or if his PPR report was already done and you could see it. Fate seemed to be on your side as you started your saunter up to the counter, trying not to seem desperate. The operating doors opened and out walked Hoshina. You were happy at first before you thought about it, walked?? What the hell is happening? The doctors and nurses were trying to keep him in the hospital cot, but knowing Hoshina he wouldn’t stay put. Within a couple seconds, he saw you standing close to the front counter and walked over towards you, a limp and bandages all over his body, but of course, he smiled and continued his way over towards you like it was nothing. As he made his way over you could only give him an unamused expression, he should’ve known you were gonna be pissed off at him. Getting in a fight with a kaiju that not even a single commander could take down? Overworking himself into overheating and then trying to take out the remaining yoju? And now walking when he should be taking it easy, and not listening to the doctors? He was in for an earful from you, and the second he realized you weren’t smiling when he (limped) walked out, he knew full well what was coming his way. The joyful smile he soon had now shifted into a sheepish grin, knowing that the second he was back in his room, he would not only get you having a stern talking to about making sure he took care of himself and listened to the doctor's orders. But also that you were gonna be so pissed off at him for taking on that Kaiju alone. It was only about 15 minutes later when you were done telling him off for his stupid actions, even if you knew all was done for the well-being of the other officers of the third division. The smile he once had faded to a small frown when he saw how upset you were at him, and to that, his first reaction was to just come up and back hug you. He knew when he was upset and you did that, it always made him feel better. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his. You knew that he was always a little reckless when it came to protecting people he cared about, even if it would one day come back and bite him in the ass, but you knew that with his talents, it would be a while before that day would ever come, and you just had to believe that all the times he told you he would be back before bed, were right…

[jamneuromain]

Revenge Oh So Sweet

Steve Rogers x You (Agent!Reader)

Warning: Revenge (sort of), dick pics, bad language word, fluff? Clintasha if you squint.

Summary: For once, you decide not to put up with this shit anymore.

A/N: Based on the prompt from the bingo challenge. The inspiration came from @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates (a big smoochie) and my recent experience, there's another experience under the tag #why I hate men. So ... yeah, you get the gist.

Your life-long happiness seems to have been a mutual concern of every Avenger in the compound.

After two not-so-successful relationships and another couple of failed dates, everyone is eager to share their experience or their suggestions as to what could help you find a partner.

"Be yourself." Tony commented on your love life when he accidentally overheard you girls talking in the kitchen, "Trust me, that's how I got Pepper." He said with a smug smile on his face.

Natasha rolled her eyes as Maria tugged the corner of her lips and made a rude - you considered it not so rude, but Tony jumped and felt offended - face.

"Come on, Stark." Natasha huffed out, "That's because Pepper is loyal and devoted. And you can't live without her."

Wanda stayed quiet but nodded like a chicken pecking the grains right in front of her.

"I can introduce the guy working for the IT, nerd, but... cute." Natasha fished out the Instagram of said guy.

Tony grumbled something under his breath as he headed out.

And it was not long before almost everyone on the Avengers team started to give you advices on how to secure a partner/date.

You were nursing over a bucket of chocolate ice cream, your standard medication for sorrows of "not being able to find a boyfriend" the other day when Thor's voice boomed by your ear, "... I am SURE Asgardian warriors would be kneeling at your feet if you could swing the battle sword during a fight."

He smelt like Asgardian mead.

"Thanks, Thor." You appreciated his effort, nonetheless, raising your ice cream bucket for a gestural toast.

Tony snorted at the end of the coffee table, probably having way too much caffeine than he should, and patted Thor on his bicep, "She needs a boyfriend, Point Break, not becoming Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Clint plopped down next to you on the couch, nudging you with his shoulder, gathering your attention, and asked, "Look, why don't you just kidnap some hot dude? That's what Nat almost- HEY!"

He yelled when Natasha threw a couch pillow in his direction, hitting him square in the chest, succesfully shutting him up.

Clint shrugged and gave you a glimpse of sympathy, which you were 99% sure he meant "Sorry kiddo". He shrunk to the corner of the couch, taking a swing of his beer.

"Why not try meeting someone with mutual interest?" Steve carefully pitches his suggestion, he looks at you with a hint of thought, "Like finding someone who shares the same passion over some exercises in the gym."

"Except I'm not a big fan of gyms." You pouted slightly, "But yeah, I guess book clubs and stuff... could work?"

"Gym." Bucky sniggered without even trying to mask his amusement, "Such a Steve thing." After receiving a warning glare from Steve, Bucky moved slightly away from his best pal, and singsongingly added, "I'm sure a candidate is much closer than you'd think."

Sam shook his head. Leaning on the counter of the kitchen, Sam proposed his idea with much delicacy to you, chuckling, "Steve might have a point. You know, maybe get to know your coworker better." Sam said this almost suggestively, a knowing smirk lingering on his lips, "After all, we never frown upon office romance. Not a bad idea to date your coworker as long as they are nice decent people, while you get to have fun."

"Surely redhead is neither nice nor decent." Bucky pointed his finger towards Nat on the far-end chair, whispering loudly.

"Don't get me breaking all your fingers, Barnes. And I'm not only talking about the ones on your right hand." Natasha retorted back, looking as if she was ready to bicker with Bucky again.

Vision, on the other hand, was not comfortable with processing a large conversation with so many participants even though he was able to identify every one of them. However, it was customary for everyone to join the conversation, no matter how they contributed to it. After doing some research in his head, Vision spoke up with confidence, "May I suggest a less time-consuming approach?"

This certainly drew the attention of most people in the room as Rhodey walked in.

"I have been analyzing the data of Miss Y/L/N, and I have come up with a list of results. It is a list of possible partners of Miss Y/L/N." Vision gave some time for this information to sink in before starting the list, "On top of the list, data run came back with a 99.7% matching rate to a book named-"

"A book?" Tony almost sprang from his seat, "HOLD ON. Hold on, for a minute here." He raised his index finger shushing everyone in the room, "What's the book?"

After hearing his question, the room fell into a unison of grumbles. "Seriously Tony?" "You're interested in that book? There's something wrong with..." "Ask him to take another look at the data for Christ's sake-"

Tony rolled his eyes in the most elegant way, "Fine. Vision, would you please erase all lifeless forms of matching in your database and focus on possible 'human' partners?"

A few seconds gone with Vision processing the data in silence, before speaking up, "I have now entered the condition of 'human partner', and the first person with a 99.4% matching rate is Andy Barber, lawyer-"

Gasps and murmurs swirled over the room again.

"...he lives in Newton, Boston, Massachusetts. According to data, he is married to Laurie Barber. Being the leading character of the crime fiction Defending Jacob-"

You would prefer to be drowned in your chocolate ice cream than to have Vision pairing you with a fictional character - even if it's a fictional character that is played by a very handsome actor in the TV series.

That you probably watched more than a dozen times. But still! Fictional!

Rhodey murmured to Tony: "And that's why we still wouldn't apply AI to our weaponary program..."

You groaned in agony, "Vision, I adore you, really. But I really need you to stop-"

"Ya-Da-Ya-Da-Ya-Da-" Tony cut through your sentence, "Vision, no fictional characters, we need real men-"

"Or woman." Wanda squeaked, clearly more amused than everyone else in this room.

"Or woman. Thank you, ponytail," Tony cleared his throat, "Someone who is actually living on the planet right now-"

"Recalculating. Ari Levinson Kidron, former Mossad agent. He is 99.3% compatible. He was renowned for Israel's Operation Moses and Operation Joshua from 1984 to1985."

"Eighties?" Bucky chimed in with mischief sparkling in his eyes, "How old is he?"

"He is currently 78 years old. A movie based on him was released in 2019, starring an actor named Christopher Robert Evans." Vision replied, "Your Netflix history clearly shows a tendency toward strong powerful men with romantic gestures during dating."

You buried your head as deep as the ice cream bucket allowed, "Please, Vision, I'm begging you. Don't leak anymore of my browsing history before I decide to jump into the Hudson River."

Wanda shook her head lightly at Vision, the latter seemed to gain a hint of realization after a while, "Sorry. I have been intrusive. My deepest apologies, Miss. Y/L/N."

You waved your hand in the air to indicate "all is well", but your eyes were still staring into the brown-ish ice cream, which had started to melt.

Shit.

Wanda scooted closer to you, holding her phone in front of your face, she seemed optimistic about what had just happened (even though you were devastated and actually considering being single for the rest of your life).

"What about dating apps?" She showed you a few, swiping men's profiles for you to see, "It's definitely simpler than asking some random people. You can also tell them at the start that you are looking for serious relationships, rather than sex."

Actually, that sounded...

"Thank you, Wanda." You shot her an appreciatiating look.

That sounded like the most solid suggestion anyone has ever made. Especially with the match-making plan of Natasha and the nerdy guy didn't work out, you were willing to try Tinder. Or something similar.

Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, before hugging you on the shoulder and helping you start your own profile on some app. While Sam half-dragged Steve out of the living room, mumbling something about "bats".

After a couple dozen men who wanted "something casual, sorry" and a disastrous night, you scrolled through your dating app to see if anyone has messaged you last night.

You were on an all-nighter mission with your teammates. Due to an unfortunate incident, you had to chase the criminal for about twelve blocks. On foot.

Just got your phone back from your locker, you sagged down on one of the empty chairs by the mission dispatch center, and scrolled through your dating app.

Daveid757: Hi.

You clicked on his profile picture.

"Daveid" is a decent-looking guy with a thin beard and hazel-brown eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered, he held a few 10-foot-long fish in half of his pictures and his different fishing rods in the rest.

Not bad, at least.

You returned to the chatting screen.

[Daveid757 typing]

You should probably say hi back.

Daveid757 stopped typing.

And the next thing you know, a dick pic that took up almost half of your phone screen attacked you right in the face.

A dick.

A at-first-sight-it-was-five-inch-but-some-skin-and creases-are-repetitive-so-it-was-at-most-a-two-inch dick.

A naked dick and his naked thigh.

A tiny but photoshopped dick.

You began to wonder what should you reply at this point.

You sure it's not two inches? No. Basically harmless to a guy who sends dick pics.

Fuck off you prick. No. That came off too strong.

How about I've seen bigger? That could probably trigger his competitiveness, though. You were hoping for something that could make him as furious as how you felt when you received his dick pic.

The sickness of getting a genitalia photo, the rage of being disrespected by men, the grumpiness from your staying up all night, and the frustration of knowing that the "dating app" method was a bust, all united as one .

Although you knew your blood was boiling from all four emotions, they were helpful too, enlightening you with a brilliant idea.

You should get a Nobel Peace Prize for it.

You searched "dick" and selected a dick pic that looked significantly larger and thicker than the one Daveid sent you.

Your dick pic is smooth and pink, clean-shaven, and with a man's hand gripping the foreskin, revealing the angry red tip.

This one looked much better than his.

You looked at this dick pic fondly.

And sent it to him.

Daveid757: You fucking crazy motherfucker.

Daveid757 has blocked you.

His profile picture turned grey, just like the type of picture people will put in front of his casket during his funeral.

Out of nowhere, a surge of euphoria washed over you. Having you doing your best to maintain a calm presence. You try your best not to smirk or giggle, trying your best to keep your lips between your teeth, biting the inside of your mouth from hollering out laughter.

Yeah, you definitely like "your" dick pic better.

While the two dick pics stayed on your screen.

Peacefully. Paying each other respect.

"Hey Y/N," holding his first cup of coffee in hand, Steve emerged behind you in his full tactical suit. He still had an hour before his mission and he decided not to board the jet without a healthy caffeine dose at 5:32 am. He saw you from the break room across the hall, and he just had to say hello to you.

Professional. This is purely professional courtesy!

You seemed undisturbed, gazing into your phone, with a smile ghosting your lips.

Naturally, Steve trotted near, earning a peek to your phone - he didn't intend to be sneaky about it, he only wanted to know what was mesmerizing you - while sipping down some hot hot burning lava hot coffee and -

You're looking at dicks???

"Oh my - Steve! Are you alright?" Shoving your phone into your pocket, you found some Kleenex in your bag and put it into Steve's hand. He choked and coughed violently, whole face flushed red as he waved his hand, stepping away from you, continuing coughing his lungs out.

You were struggling to understand whether he means "No, I'm not alright" or "No, I don't need the Kleenex" or "No, everything is alright". Though you didn't know how the last one worked the way inside your head.

Steve calmed himself after coughing into his palms some more. Shaking his head but accepting your tissue paper: "Yeah I'm - EHEM - 'm fine." Dabbing his suit which now has coffee splatters over his chest, he muttered an almost inaudible "Thank you".

He didn't look you right in the eyes when he was busy cleaning up his mess, but he felt like he had to when he should talk to you about workplace ethics. He finally looked up from the ground with his baby blue orbs, and tried to sound serious with his ears and cheeks blushing: "Y/N, I'm not ... " he winced, "You know I'm not that type of person who ummm... tries to dictate what others do or don't."

"Like Tony?" You scoffed, but the scoff was more directed to Tony rather than Steve. God, you should know better than to let Tony participate in your love life, giving out advices.

Steve manages a smile witth difficulty, "I'm not, but ... I don't ... I would consider ... I uh - I believe genital photos are not workplace appropriate."

You choked out a laugh, fishing your phone from your pocket and showing him, "What, this?"

"God, please, Y/N." He blocked your screen with his leather-gloved hand, becoming visibly more nervous, blurting out but his tone appears to be more begging than commanding, "Not ... here!"

You giggled. The few hours of sleep you had while you were on the plane back from the mission had led you to an unstable mindset. It would be completely insane for the "normal" you to show Steve Rogers, a work fellow, dick pics. But right now? With all those emotions boiling down your veins, the lack of sleep (and apparently, the lack of clear sense) and the sudden euphoria of making Steve nervous, you were feeling bold. Audacious. Felt like you could conquer the world and slam a monster silicone dildo right onto Daveid's face.

So you apologized, though not with much sincerity, and told Steve why you were "watching dick pics" on your phone in your workplace.

"He started it!" After accusing Daveid of sending you dick pics, you whined like a grumpy child, which you definitely wouldn't, if you were not sleep-deprived, but Steve felt like the most trustworthy male person on the planet at that moment, so you spilt your guts and tried to excuse yourself out of the workplace ethics violation that Steve nearly had you reported to HR.

He almost would never. Report you to the HR. But he kept that to himself.

"And it's not my dick. I suppose it's not entirely my fault?"

Steve chuckled soundlessly. It was in fact, adorable for you trying and whining, "Even if it is your dick, you don't send him that until you're out of the compound, okay?"

"I don't have a dick!" You huffed out in a hush voice. Seeing his typical look, the look with the raising eyebrows that says "yes, and-", you put up your hands in defeat, "Okay-Okay. You have a point. No dick pics."

"More like no dating apps scrolling while you're at workplace, just in case." Steve was amused. He thought for a while before making amends, "Tell you what, there's a nice little place in Brooklyn. You free tonight at 7? I'll wine and dine you, and you can tell me about all the awful macho men you've encountered. Promise, no judging."

He looks at you, almost sympathetically, with his crystal blue eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You lowered your head, pretending you need to find your bag before summoning up the courage and shrugging, playing it cool, "Deal, Captain. Be ready for some of the worst men you've ever heard of."

After some most amazing medium rare steak and two glasses of fine-aged red, you were beyond caring (about your little crush of the handsome blonde sitting across you) and exchanged laughs and giggles that were definitely way too loud for a decent date.

You attracted attention, being the most stunning couple in the restaurant (so the "couple" word maybe a little too "ouchy" for you, since you normally spent time admiring Steve from afar), and some glances from other customers were casually thrown this way.

You had to admit, watching Steve in a brown leather jacket and jeans, triggered something inside you that encouraged you to climb him like a tree and slam your lips over his.

Steve chuckled, covering his lips with his fist, temporarily blocking his seductive (and to you, sinning) grin, "I can't believe Daveid is actually nicer among all the douches you've dated. Being a long-term friend of yours, I'd suggest you not to pick up men from dumpsters."

You cast a sour look in his direction, raising the glass to your lips, taking a small sip from the third cup of wine, "I would if I could." Your glass landed on the table with a bit too much force. Faking annoyance, you groaned at the ceiling, "Men are just ... awful."

"Touche." He murmured over his glass, clicking it with yours before downing a big gulp. Feeling bolder than usual, he looked at you right in the eyes, hoping he would convey a message, a hint, anything, "Surely ... there are a few good men out there. But, 80% of them are plain stupid, you know? You gotta ... I don't know, it's not about trying harder, I guess, but ... open to other ... options?"

You snorted, leaning back onto the comfy chair, teasing him, dipping your toes in the water for a second, "Oh, you're spoiling me and trying to get me zero dates in my future since you raised the bar too high, Captain."

He looked more jumpy and edgy after your "captain" comment. His ears and cheek turned pink under the dim yellow restaurant light, "I'm certain that you can have a boyfriend in the future that would be ... nice, to say the least. Apart from your lapse of judgment on this guy," he couldn't help but let slip of his smile, "you have some good friends and I'm sure you'll go on a date with someone better than him, someone better for your relationship, and more deserving for you."

You feigned a gasp of shock, "Are you calling yourself "better"? So competitive, Captain Rogers."

His fluster-ness drained from his face all of a sudden, slightly narrowing his eyes to focus on someone behind you, "I think - Is that ...?"

"What?" You were bewildered.

"The ass who sent you the dick pic." He shifted his focus back to you, "Your four o'clock. Black suit, Caucasian male, 5'7''. He's not looking this way but I'm positive he's the guy."

You spared a glance at him quickly. He did look like "Daveid757" and his profile pictures.

"Fucking hell." You muttered.

"You know what would make him furious? Letting him see you're having the best time of your life." Steve placed his palm on your wrist, giving you warmth and support, "Letting him know what he has missed out."

"Flip my hair and giggle?"

Your words didn't mean to be sarcastic, but they sure came out this way.

"Or we could return to the compound to suit up." Steve kindly offers, "I'll beat his ass until he learns a lady is supposed to be respected."

You drained your wine, teasing him with a dash of liquid courage, "Revenge doesn't suit you, Cap." And I don't want you to get into trouble, even if it is a tempting gesture. You swallowed the latter half of your sentence.

And of course, you had a much better plan...

"Is he looking this way now?" You moved to the seat by Steve's side, making sure Daveid could turn his head and see you with little effort. "Accidentally" having your wine class clatter with your ceramic plate, you made a loud noise for the entire restaurant to hear.

"Yeah but-"

The rest of his words fell on deaf ears, as you cupped his chin and kissed him.

His lips were soft. Grape-flavored with a bitter taste of alcohol. The kiss was sweet, tender, careful even, as he reciprocated your small nibbling, threading his fingers with the base of your hair.

Your liquid courage burnt down faster than you had imagined. Burying your face into his chest, you were rid of all the strength you had to check Daveid - or Steve, for that matter, because on second thought, using Steve to get back at Daveid wasn't such a good idea if Steve misunderstood your feelings as a method to get even with the dick pic dude -

"I hope you haven't fallen asleep, because that guy looked like he could swallow his wine glass. And he broke his plate, dragging his date to leave but - oh ho, now the waiter is asking him to pay for the plate and the wine -" Steve sounded normal, unaffected, calm. On the contrary, you wanted to jump into the Hudson River right this second for kissing Steve and wash off all the embarrassment and nervousness.

"I suppose you need to get some air and not suffocate yourself in my jacket?" He joked, patting on your back almost in a comforting way, while you were still buried into his chest, "Don't worry, the Daveid guy made a bigger scene and now he got kicked out of this place."

Your hair must be awful. The move messed up your hair, and your lipstick no doubt. And ruining your make-up. And you couldn't face Steve knowing that you kissed him and this - you are going to be a joke to the whole compound within 48 hours.

"But if you don't say another word for five seconds, I'm going to presume that you are losing consciousness and perform CPR in front of the whole restaurant."

You sat up reluctantly, wiping the outline of your lips and possible lipstick smudge without a mirror. Pouting.

"Or how about being my fake girlfriend for five minutes and we will show Daveid that we are a happy couple?" Steve observed your expression, making yet another proposal.

He was sweet. He was really sweet offering all these choices for you and your pathetic dating app experience but all you wanted was - "How about being real girlfriend." You grumbled under your breath.

"Sorry?"

"Never mind." You shook your head and decided to put this delightful dinner time behind you, "Let's -"

"You mean it?"

"Huh?"

His crystal blue eyes searched your features, searching for signs that you wanted him, wanted this, wanted you two to be a thing. It was cliche and a chance in a million, having his friend -you falling in love with him, but so were myths and superheroes. He liked his odds.

"Would you," He spoke, painfully slow, "like to be my girlfriend? Not because of revenging. But because I want it to work. Because I love you and I want to kiss you. Because you feel the same way, and finally, you can help put my misery of seeing you dating other people to a stop. I want to date you," he thought for a small while before adding, "exclusively."

The sun must be rising from the west, or the sea must be pouring back into rivers, or the dead must be alive from their graves.

A most-amazing miracle was happening.

Because the next thing you knew, you nodded and he pulled you into his warm hug.

And offered you one of his many sweet, sweet kisses.

Bonus:

You sneaked back to the compound, holding hands, grinning like fools, feeling like the first day of being in love.

You walked past the living room with Vision in the corner still knee-deep in his thoughts, calculating, or searching.

"It seemed the most fitting human candidate is Captain Steve Rogers, with a 99.2% match." The sudden voice startled you both, but Vision raised his head and greeted you, "Ah. I see that my data is no longer needed. Congratulations on finding a perfect partner, and good night, to you both."

You whispered a "Night" as Vision drifted towards his chamber.

Turning around when you noticed Steve went silent, you saw him scratching the back of his head, just a little bit annoyed.

"I rank behind a book and two fictional characters?"

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

You have to live

Curt Biddick X Female! Reader

Summary: Curt survies his crash, but he's in a bad shape...

Warning: Mention of injuries/ swearing/ Google translated german/ dead brother/

A/n: Based on a request, hope you like it :)

He was dragging his body on the ground; he was hurt from the crash he just lived. He didn’t know how he survived this, but he was grateful that he did. He saw smoke coming from what he thought was a chimney, he had to go there, maybe they’ll help him. Curt had no other choice.

Y/n was outside, taking care of the garden when she was a man collapsing on the ground, she rushed to help him, she lived alone, since her brother died in combat, she was alone. When she came near the men, she realised that he was a pilot. ‘’American’’ he mumbled. Y/n helped him up and allowed him to put his weight on her. ‘’Thank you, I’m Curt’’ he mumbled. ‘’Stop talking, save your energy’’ she said with a French accent. She was from France, at least her mother was, and she taught her French since she was young. Her dad was German, that’s why she was close to Regensburg, where Curt’s mission was.

Curt sat down in the kitchen as he watched the woman run around the house to get medical stuff. When she got in front of him, she seemed overwhelmed, he had so many injuries, she wondered how he was still alive. ‘’Can you take your equipment off? I need to see how bad your injuries are’’ she asked. He nodded and began to take his equipment off, but he was struggling, she helped him. ‘’I never caught your name’’ he said, weakly. ‘’Y/n’’ she simply replied. She analyzed the man and decided to start with his legs, he had burns on his right leg and some glass in his left leg. ‘’I’m going to take the glass pieces out, it might hurt, but talk to me, about anything. I need you to stay conscious, I’ll give you something for the pain, ok?’’ she asked him. She shot him in the leg with morphine, he was lucky, her mother was a nurse and she had medical stuff in the house. More than a normal person would own. ‘’Okay, well like I said, I’m Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, I’m with the 100th bomb group’’ as he continued to talk about himself, Y/n got to work, piece by piece she removed them form his leg, she was careful, she didn’t want to hurt him.

After 25 minutes, she was done healing his legs, she had blood on her hands, but it wasn’t too much. ‘’Can you take your shirt off, I need to take a look’’ she stuttered. He smiled before taking his shirt off, he had small burns. She put an ointment on his burns, it was homemade, but it worked. ‘’What about you, Y/n, are you married?’’ Curt asked, curious about the woman. He didn’t saw a ring on her finger, but maybe he was too injured to notice it. ‘’Nope I’m not married, Lieutenant’’ she simply replied. ‘’You can call me Curt, you know, ranks don’t apply here’’ he chuckled, but moaned in pain at the contact of the ointment. ‘’You’re really lucky to be alive, you know that?’’ Y/n states, making Curt nod.

They didn’t know how much time went by, but Y/n had finally healed each of Curt’s injuries. Right now, he was sleeping in her bed, he needed to rest, and Y/n needed to clean all the blood he left in her kitchen. But a knock at the door made her jump, she made sure his uniform was hidden, she gave him her brother’s cloths. When she opened the door, her heart sank, German’s officer. ‘’Hallo Madam, können wir reinkommen? ‘‘he said. He asked her if they could come in the house. She was terrified, if they found Curt, they would kill him, and her. She tried to look as calm as possible. ‘’Of course, my husband is sleeping, be quiet’’ she replied in German. Shit, she didn’t have ring. Officers looked around the house, she hid the uniform in the garden before they arrived, they never looked outside. ‘’Why don’t you have a ring?’’ one of them asked. ‘’We’re too poor, I inherited this house and I sell my cow’s milk to have money. My husband works at a factory, he’s deaf, so he can’t join the military’’ she lied. She was nervous, her hearth was pounding. The Germans nodded and closed the bedroom’s door. ‘’There was a crash, if you see American soldiers, alert us right away’’ he ordered as they left her house. When they finally left, she sighed, they were so close of getting caught.

Curt woke up 30 minutes later. He was woken up by the smell of something. It smelled good. When he exited the room, he found Y/n cooking. ‘’Hello, dinner’s almost ready, sit down’’ she smiled. ‘’Did someone come here while I was sleeping, I thought I heard people talk?’’ he asked as he sat down. Y/n nodded and took a deep breath. ‘’Yes, German soldiers, looking for American survivors, I told them you were my husband, and that you were deaf, so that’s why you weren’t in the military, they believed me and left’’ she explains as she serves him dinner. His mouth opened in shock. ‘’I’m so sorry, that must’ve been so scary!’’ he apologized. ‘’It’s okay, you needed to sleep’’ she smiles. ‘’You know, Curt, you can stay here until you’re fully healed’’ she offers. ‘’I would like that, thank you very much for your hospitality, Y/n, you’re an angel’’ he says, looking at her. She blushed and took a bite out of the chicken she cooked. ‘’It’s normal, everyone would’ve done that’’ she huffs shyly. She was nervous, but it was a good nervous. Curt was really attractive, and the fact that he complimented her, made Y/n blush. ‘’Not everyone can lie to German officers, you literally risked your life. I owe you one’’ he says. She smiled as she bites her bottom lips. ‘’But you’ll have to be my fake husband for the time of your stay. If they come back, we’ll have to act like we’re married.’’ She stutters. ‘’Not a problem’’ he quickly replies. He was truly grateful for her. Without her, he would be dead. But he was looking forward to this stay, she was an amazing woman and he couldn’t wait to get to know her better.

[sheeluvsme]

John Soap mactavish headcannons !

LETTS GET READY TO RUMBLEEE!! Hi everyone! I saw how everyone really liked my last post about price and Valeria !!! So i figured I’ll do our boy soap next :))!! Who should I write about next? I was thinking könig…lmk!!

CW// This is SFW and NSFW!! there will be female anatomy used Lightly, also NOT proof read LMAOO , ANGST! ( warning nurse! Reader, brief death) semi public stuff? Just let me know if I missed anything!!

When you first met soap , you really thought he was WEIRD AS SHIT

He like completely puzzled you with his jokes 😭

You two met at a pub!! He had claimed to think your face was familiar and you told him you worked for army medical. You were a army nurse ! That’s when it clicked in his tiny little brain, because lord knows he’s been to medical lotssss of times.

The first thing that pulled him in was your laugh. When you finally started laughing at his stupid jokes he couldn’t help but smile like a teen boy.

Soap is also good to you! He i a sweetheart and lovessss taking you wherever you want to go, he mostly likes going shopping with your for two very important reasons 1. To make sure no one fucks with you 2. So he can get his favorite candy.

He actually likes watching you shop and be in your own little world! He thinks it’s cute because when he’s focused he does the same thing.

He knows you have anxiety about alottttt of things and he is right there for you! He knows public places scare you because of germs and also just some many loud people

He finds it funny your so loud and assistive at your place of work but as soon as you hit the public you turn into a shy little thing and he adores it!

Especially when you don’t want to bother people, your sitting there with your cart … waiting for this one person to move… and he’s like “ what you waitin’ for lass?” And you jester to the person in-front of you. He can’t help but smile and shake his head at you “ excuse meh’ ! We gotta get by you” he louder then he should of announced 😭

Soap always says the most random funny shit to you, he knows you have quite a gruesome sad job sometimes , so coming back home with him and his humor really helps!!

One day you absolutely came home in tears , you were shattered, your heart felt so so sore. He couldn’t help but immediately sore to you hold you. “ aye aye ..sweetheart what’s wrong-?! Did someone hurt you? Is it your boss again because I swea-“ you just shake your head no. You quietly explain to him through your tears a kid died on you. There was nothing you could really do but make them comfortable but you couldn’t help but feel sorrow. Because you definitely wanted kids with soap. So this scared you. He just holds you so tightly stroking your hair. “ it’s ok sweetheart. You did your absolute best. It’s ok..”

He always know how to exactly get you feeling better. Even if your sick ! You yell at him to stay away from you because you’re sick and have gross germs!! But he literally couldn’t care he picks you up anyways kissing you and hugging you!

He wasn’t very educated on periods at first but you definitely taught him , maybe a little too graphic because after he hugged you and told you how lucky he is to have a dick LMAOO

On your period he like genuinely calls it ‘ Shark week! ‘

He’s the type to say , when you ask him to grab you pads and says ‘ what size pussy you got ‘ PLSPSLLSL

You catch this man listening to the lady Gaga or Katie Perry 100% AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE LITERALLY HAS NO SHAME

He thinks your just the prettiest thing wearing his shirts !! Makes him secretly go nuts

He admires you a lot , the way you have to be up at ASS O’CLOCK in the morning for work and you still make him lunch or morning coffee???? He wants to be YOU when he grows up LMAOO

NSFW

He also like price has a primal urge to make you his baby momma LMAOO

He loves telling you that during sex “ yeah? Like that? You like when I’m deep inside you hm? Gonna’ getcha’ fucking pregnant with my kid.”

He is a MAJOR bitter

He loves biting you everywhere and leaving his marks on you. It’s his favorite thing getting up after you watching you slip on your scrubs and try and cover your neck bites with makeup. He can’t help but cheekily smile

He is also a MAJOR pussy eater , loveessss eating you like a starved man , especially overstimulation.

He will eat you over and over and over till your literally sobbing and saying you can’t anymore ( he of course respects your request)

He is BIGGGG on in public stuff ‼️‼️

Like if your out for a nice dinner you can’t help but send a glare his way as his hand creeps up your thigh. “ what do you think your doing?” You playfully smack his hand away. “ what dose it look like I’m doing hm?” He whispers. “ it looks like your focused on the wrong food.” You keep yourself together as you sip your wine. “ I’m a man who likes his dessert before his dinner what can I say?” You choke on your wine.

DONT even get me started when your out clubbing together going to a pub with a few of 141 to have a good time , you yourself are having too much of a good time. Your buzzed , warm , and feeling damn good, your make up worked out perfectly and your clothes fit you JUST right.

Soap leaves his eyes off you for one minute and he sees gaz and price chuckling as they point to you , clearly having the time of your life in the crowded dance floor , soap is chuckling too until he notices a guy gawking you and obviously too close for his comfort. Your oblivious to what’s happening honestly there’s so many people smooshed together, your too focused on dancing.

He quickly sets down his drink squeezing through people, quickly apologizing. He grabs your waist quickly pulling you close before looking back at the guy that was very close to touching what’s his. Soap quickly says “ step off. She’s with me.” You quickly turn around to see your beautiful boyfriend and smile “ Johnny!! I was wondering when you’d come out here and show off your sweet dance moves!” Obviously teasing him. Because his ass can not dance 😭

Soap hears you and smiles but he’s quietly brewing. Suddenly he’s dragging you to the clubs bathroom. Thank god it’s a single use. “ wha- cmon was my dancing that embarrassing?” You tease him wondering what the hell is happening. “ no love. Not that. Just..” her huffs grabbing you pulling you close. “ people keep ogling’ whats mine. I don’t take very kindly to it.” Your cheeks heat up. You’ve never seen him like this but your not complaining. You didn’t even notice people looking at you. “ well I promise I’m all yours Johnny..” he quickly sticks his lips to yours. Hungrily kissing you , licking into you. “ soap- every one else is gonna-“ he quickly cuts you off. “ let them. I’m having you right now whether they like it or not.”

Soap seems more dominant but he is half and half sometimes he just needs to be your good boy ‼️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

He absolutely LOVESSSSS when you top him or sit on his face. If he’s tired but still really wants you THATS when he turns into putty in your hands.

He fucking loves when you pull on his Mohawk ‼️ he can’t help but whimper and god damn is so beautiful.

BIG ON PRAISE let that poor boy know he’s doing good!!! Degrading him just makes him feel competitive, then the tables will turn..

He loves begging you to let him cum in you , “ please- please let me cum in you. Fucking hell!- haa- please please. I want you to feel good-“ of course with him you obviously CANT say no!!

He’s also pretty good with after care, he likes taking baths with you because soap does enjoy a good bubble bath!!

Next morning you wake up late because it’s your day off, he’s gone for work already but you smell something? You walk into the kitchen and he made you breakfast and coffee with a small note. “ gotta take care of my girl after she takes care of me , I love ya ! -your secret admirer” and ofc he spells like half of that wrong but its ok because you do indeed love your boyfriend!

Thank you for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed <33

[sunflowerkiwis]

Drama Queen

You tend to Harry’s wounds after a small fight

word count: 628, she’s short and sweet

tw: mentions of fighting, needles (sewing), a couple swear words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ow.”

“Calm down, you big baby.”

Harry flinched again and hissed at the stinging alcohol against his knuckle. “‘M not a baby,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes, but with the thickness in your voice, it sounded more like ‘shore’. You were… disappointed, to say the least. “You wouldn’t be flinching and hissing if you weren’t such an idiot.”

Harry stilled.

Your words came out harsher than you intended them to. You didn’t mean to hurt him, but then again, all words came from somewhere and you both knew that.

Looking up, you could see his hurting eyes, reflecting yours. “I’m sorry,” you placed a hand on his cheek. Your hand was cold due to the alcohol in the cool bathroom air. “I’m just… I don’t know—I’m confused, H. You’re not violent, you think things through. I guess I’m disappointed,” you looked down at his cut knuckles and nudged at his hand, “Where’d this come from?”

This—the rash decisions, the impulsive pull of his arm, the harsh contact of his fist with probably another man’s face. It wasn’t like him.

“‘Dunno.” Harry looked down at his feet, hanging from the counter, like a scolded puppy. His voice lowered, “He was talking about you.” He, some guy you’d barely met from Harry’s management.

You tilted your head. Talking about you?

“He—fuck,” he winced as you padded his knuckles with alcohol again, “he was talking shit about you and saying stuff… bad stuff.”

“What’s ‘bad stuff’, Lovie?” You didn’t have to look up to see the hesitancy in his face.

“Don’t wanna hurt your feelings…”

You smirked. “Well it ain’t gonna hurt me more than him,” you let out a light chuckle.

The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up, not at the joke, but at the sound of your laugh. Although, it went away as soon as he realized there wasn’t a way to avoid this—not with your persistence and determination.

“He… he said you don’t deserve me and you’re—” his gaze moved from your face to his lap. From the corner of your eye, you could tell he was hurt too. “—that you’re ‘just some dirty chick who’s looking for money’.”

You threw away the alcohol pad and reached for a medical kit your mom had given you under the sink. Harry took a deep breath, bracing himself, remembering he still had a bad cut in his cheekbone that needed tending to. Your mom was a nurse and she’d given you this in case of emergencies, when you were younger she’d taught you lots of medical things like how to properly clean wounds and how to throw some stitches one, too. It was time to put those skills to use. You were always thankful for her and everything she taught and did for you. You always knew you’d need it someday, you just never thought you’d use these skills to help Harry recover from a literal fistfight.

“Jackass,” you said under your breath, standing up.

“Yeah,” Harry observed as you got everything ready. “I don’t know how it happened, it went by really fast. Just felt my fist hurting when it hit his face and then he hit me back. It’s all kind of a blur but then I kicked him out and came upstairs to you.”

You’d heard some loud, muffled words from downstairs, but you couldn’t tell if it was them shouting or a show they were watching, as you were watching one of your own in the bedroom and keeping to yourself.

He flinched when you brought the needle close to his face and your raised your eyebrows in a scowl at him. “H, I haven’t done anything—and you’re numbed.”

He gave you a sheepish look. “I thought it’d hurt.”

“Drama Queen.”