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macgyvermedical · 1 month ago

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A Day in the Life of your Character in the Hospital

Yesterday, your character was shot in the lower left side of their abdomen. They were taken to the emergency room and given IV antibiotics, fluids, and then rushed to surgery. Today is their first full day in the hospital.

0600: The surgeon arrives. He's running late and he's pissed about it. Definitely your character's fault. He turns on the light. Without waiting for your character to wake up (he got, like, 2 hours of sleep) he takes the abdominal binder off, revealing a bandage that covers the front of his abdomen. There is some blood visibly seeping through it. The surgeon pulls this bandage off. This is the first time the character sees the new incision. It is probably 14 inches long, and goes down the center of his belly, making a neat little curve around his navel. It is held together with a lot of staples. There is also the place where the bullet went in (and presumably one on the other side where it came out). This is held together with skin glue. The surgeon puts the call light on so the nurse can come back in and re-dress the incision site.

0700: It's been shift change for 30 minutes now, which is how long the call light has been on. A nurse aide comes in and asks what your character needs. She gets a set of vitals and the character asks for pain medication. The incision has started to hurt now that the abdominal binder is off and there i an ache that is deeper too. He also says he's cold. The nurse aid gets him a pair of worn blue scrub pants to wear under his gown and a warm blanket. She says she will tell the nurse that he needs pain medication. She empties his urinal.

0800: The nurse comes in with the pain medication, finally. The character looks at it longingly as the nurse does her assessment, listening to his breathing (breathing in deeply hurts) his abdomen (which seems like forever) and his heart. She takes pulses, asks if he has passed gas yet or feels nauseated. He says no.

The nurse says he has crackles in his lungs, which isn't uncommon for the day after surgery. His temperature is also a little up, but it's also probably because of the small amount of fluid in his lungs from not moving. She hands him a small device called an incentive spirometer and teaches him how to use it. She tells him to hold a pillow against his stomach because it will make him cough. He tries it, it hurts like heck. She tells him to do it ten times per hour. She examines the wound and puts a bandage and abdominal binder back on. Finally, she gives him the pain medication.

0900: The nurse comes back with morning medication. She gives him a medication for his stomach, acetaminophen, and an IV antibiotic, which she explains is given to everyone who has trauma surgery. She says physical therapy and social work will come at some time today and also a cop wants to see him about the person who shot him.

1000: Physical therapy comes in. There are two of them and they are very efficient. One of them walks him in the hall while the other follows behind with a wheelchair. When they get back to the room, he is wiped, but they sit him in the chair and tell him to stay there for as long as he can.

1100: The nurse aide comes by and asks if he'd like to order lunch. He realizes he never had breakfast. "Ordering lunch" turns out to be picking his choice of broth, jello, and flavored ice. He is hungry and asks when he can have real food. The nurse aide says she will ask his nurse.

1200: He "eats" or rather drinks lunch. It is good to have something on his stomach and he's feeling relatively okay thanks to the pain medication. No one has come back to tell him about real food. After lunch, he's really tired and tries to take a nap.

1300: The social worker comes in, wakes him up, and asks a bunch of questions, mostly about if he feels safe at home. Once it's relatively clear this gunshot wound was a one off thing and he won't be going to long term care, she seems to lose interest. She gives him her card and tells him to call her if he needs anything.

1400: The cops come in. There's two of them. They wake him up again. They ask about who shot him. He doesn't have a lot of information to give them and they also seem to lose interest pretty quickly. The nurse aide takes his vitals again. His temperature has come down.

1500: The surgeon's nurse practitioner comes in with his nurse from earlier, opens the abdominal binder again and takes off the bandages to look at the incision site. Nothing has really changed since this morning, but putting on and taking off the binder is a lot of effort and really he just wants to sleep at this point. They ask him how lunch and physical therapy went and he tells them. They ask if he's passed gas yet. Maybe he did? He's not sure. They say they'll probably keep him overnight again for more IV antibiotics and to make sure he can eat. The nurse practitioner listens to his abdomen again, this time it doesn't take as long. They put his bandages and binder back on.

1600: He asks for more pain medication. Once again, it takes about an hour to get. He also gets another IV antibiotic and more acetaminophen. The nurse aide comes by to take his dinner order, which is still clear liquids.

1700: During dinner he passes gas. He puts his call light on to tell the nurse. The nurse aide says she'll pass the message along. A half hour later the nurse sticks her head in and asks if he wants some pudding for dessert, considering it's too late to order anything from the cafeteria but they did change his diet order to full liquids now that things are moving.

1800: He enjoys some pudding and ice cream.

1900: He tries to take another nap, but a new nurse aide comes in to get his vitals again. He manages to fall asleep after that.

2000: He sleeps

2100: His new nurse comes in, introduces herself, does her assessment, and gives him night medications.

2200: He asks for pain medication again.

2300: Just as he falls asleep again, the nurse comes in to take blood. She's a good stick but his arms are already impossibly bruised up from the previous 20 or so sticks he's gotten in the last 36 hours. She still gets him in one try.

0000: He sleeps

0100: He is woken by someone screaming down the hall.

0200: Someone is having a very loud night.

0300: His nurse comes in. His labs came back and his potassium is low. She hangs a bag of potassium on his IV pole and hooks it up to his IV. She tells him it will probably sting, and if it’s too bad to let her know.

0400: The arm with the IV in it aches and he still can’t sleep. The person down the hall has stopped screaming finally at least.

0500: The nurse aide comes in and asks if he would like to order breakfast. All he wants to do is go home.

#whump reference #writing reference #whump #gunshot wound #hospital life #hospital

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peachsukii · 6 months ago

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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. it's your final year of UA High, an achievement that should be celebrated and joyous, but you couldn't believe just how much has changed in such a short amount of time. one thing you never thought you'd have to deal with is the potential of losing your best friend and being powerless to stop it.

content // spoilers for ch.362 through 424 of the manga (this is how i'm coping), aged up to 18/19 + end of senior year @ UA, teeny bit of angst mixed with emotional comfort & fluff, reader is in the support department (w/ an unnamed quirk), reader & bakugo are childhood friends, talks of ptsd/trauma/regret and nightmares about death, mentions of medical issues & therapy, emotionally vulnerable and sickly sweet confessions, extremely soft bakugo (maybe ooc? but trauma changes people's outlooks soooo), idiots in love, best friends to lovers. wc // 5.7k + crossposted to ao3 『 k.bakugo masterlist 』

tagging in the beginning to prevent spoilers if you wanted to avoid them; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @queenpiranhadon

War…is over.

For now.

The media wouldn’t stop playing the coverage on repeat, leaving you unable to escape the scene that will haunt you for the rest of your life and forcing you to realize how vulnerable you are as a human being.

((spoilers below the cut))

You knew the second that Bakugo popped out of the shell of UA’s fortress through a grainy livestream that something was wrong. The way he staggered out, covered in blood with a mangled arm…your heart sank. You had no clue what happened moments prior in that bubble, only the heroes inside knew the truth at the time. Watching Midoriya’s awestruck tears flow as they worked together to save All Might from All for One’s grasp didn’t fill you with hope like others around you - it filled you with fear, a deadly reminder of how dangerous hero society is and the sacrifices it entails. How your duty as a support technician, and as a best friend, wasn’t even close to enough to help him in such dire straits.

Your calls and texts to him went unanswered...as expected. He probably doesn't even have his phone on him. Rumors spread over the course of the week following Shigaraki and All for One’s demise about what happened on the field when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Did you hear about that Bakugo kid? How’d he even get up after all that? You mean from being clinically dead? Yeah, I heard Edgeshot saved his life on the fly. His heart exploded! No, he was punched and it ruptured. But he saved All Might’s life! That was so cool to see. Deku helped, too. He wouldn’t have made it in time without him. A lot of the other students went through a lot of shit…and they expect them to go back to school?

UA was 'kind' enough to give all students a two week break from classes with dorms and buildings open for access as needed. Two weeks to recover from everything that's happened...it was a joke.

You lost count of how many nights you woke up sobbing from nightmares about Bakugo’s death within the past week, ranging from surgery complications to being left to die on the battlefield alone, unable to reach him in time. Your therapist reiterated in your session that this is all a normal response, even when the events didn't directly happen to you and resembled a form of survivor's guilt. It only worsened your negative outlook on society as a whole, knowing full well that they’ve saved Japan today, but there will always be evil lurking and stewing in the shadows, waiting for the next greatest hero to bring to their knees.

The hospital barred anyone outside of the immediate family to see patients, no matter how much you begged every front desk associate to let you see him. You didn’t want to resort to sounding desperate, but you gave in by the end of the week, stopping by Bakugo’s family home to talk with his parents. To your surprise, Mitsuki was home and answered the door. Not more than a second passed before she was scooping you up into a hug, her shaky hands clutching the back of your shirt as if you were her own daughter returning home for the first time in months.

“Hi sweetie,” she greets, her voice hushed and somber; an entire 180 from her normal demeanor. She lets you go, moving her hands to your shoulders as she invites you inside.

You spend some time catching up with her before asking the inevitable question lingering in the air. “How’s Katsuki? The hospital wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

Mitsuki’s eyes glisten, tears pooling in her eyes as she shakes her head and swallows harshly. “He’s a tough ass kid. Surgery went as good as it could’ve, but…” she trails off, wiping the lone tear rolling over her cheek. “Why don’t you come with me this afternoon to the hospital?”

You bite your lip, hands curling in on themselves as they rest on your knees. “But they told me—”

“Screw that!” She interrupts, standing to her feet. “You’re comin’ with me. You are family to us.”

Your stomach cartwheels as the hospital comes into view from the backseat of the Bakugo family car, Masaru driving the three of you through the visitor’s parking lot. Mitsuki glances in the rear view mirror, catching the nervous twitch in your lips as you stared out the window.

“Dear, could you give us a minute?” she asks Masaru, motioning him to go on ahead. He nods in acknowledgment and leaves the car to head to the lobby.

“Do you wanna talk before going inside?”

How the hell did she know you were nervous? She’s known you for a good chunk of your live, it’s not too far fetched she’d be able to analyze your emotions like she does for her own son.

“I'm...” you say meekly, fidgeting with your jeans. “...trying to stay positive, but I’ve had so many nasty nightmares and I don’t know what to expect. I've only heard rumors at school about his condition.”

Mitsuki reaches to the backseat and gently takes one of your hands in hers. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. Shit, I’m terrified for him and all the other kids…this isn’t something everyday people experience, so it’s unfair to expect yourself to have standards on how to feel. He's alright, I can promise you that.”

You sigh, her words giving you a sense of comfort. “Thank you.”

“And if I can say one thing,” she adds, squeezing your hand to grab your attention. “That kid adores you, he’s just a stupid boy who doesn’t know how to say it.”

The laugh that bubbles up from your belly is genuine, a thin layer of anxiety dissolving at the thought of him getting embarrassed by his mom’s words. Nodding, you let go of her hand and open the car door, signaling you’re ready to go inside.

“Katsuki! You can’t be up and roaming around!”

Mitsuki’s heels click against the marble flooring as she scampers to Bakugo’s side down the hallway, Masaru trailing behind her when she catches a glimpse of him hobbling into a room that isn’t his own. You stay back, peering from around the corner to avoid being seen if he happened to glance your way. A few minutes pass before you faintly hear Masaru say, "Come on, let's get you back to your room to rest," and the sounds of their footsteps retreating down the hall.

It's almost embarrassing how long it takes you to work up the courage to follow after them - what's the big deal? Your best friend is physically here, not some ghost or a walking corpse from your nightmares. You knew in your heart what it was that kept you frozen in place, a feeling you've long shut away, burying it within the depths of your heart to keep yourself sane.

Love.

And it scared the shit out of you, especially now.

Retreating back to the lobby, you mindlessly scan the vending machines as a distraction until a hand touches your back. You jump at the contact and turn to see Mitsuki and Masaru standing behind you.

"We're heading home for a few hours to make some dinner and come back with leftovers for Katsuki. I told the nurses you're with us, so keep this pass with you." She hands you a visitors badge and you tuck it in your uniform pocket. "I'll bring you some dinner, too, dear. Don't waste your money on snacks. Now go see him, he could use some time away from us."

You've got a chance to be alone with Bakugo to talk with him about...everything, and you're frozen in the goddamn lobby. It takes a bit of kicking yourself in the ass to get moving, but eventually, you begin to warily make your way back to the patient wing.

A vague memory of standing at UA’s entrance comes barreling to the front of your mind, the day that the hero courses all left to prepare for the war torn city streets with the pros. You’d stood to the side, passively blessing everyone with good luck and your best wishes as they prepared to depart. When Bakugo shuffles away from his parents, he spots you in the crowd and approaches you with a straight face. Just when you’re about to say something, he grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you toward a set of hedges nearby. Not completely out of sight, but enough to hide from the majority of the congregation of friends and families.

“Kats?” You question, confused by him secluding the two of you from everyone else.

“Not another word,” Bakugo warns, cornering you in the darkness of the wall and bushes. He hesitates before reaching for one of your hands, warmth flooding from his palm into yours. His other hand scratches at the back of his neck nervously, eyes upturned to the sky as he speaks lowly.

“Wanted to say thanks for supporting my dream of bein’ a hero all these years. Don’t go worrying about me while I’m out there, alright?”

Before you could interject, his back was to you and marching over to join the others.

His words rang in your head every night, repeatedly taunting you about the feelings that rattled your ribs from how fast he made your heart beat.

You should have told him then.

The walk up the stairs to his floor fills you with unexplainable jitters that you've never felt before - were you dreading the conversation? Are you scared he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings, despite Mitsuki's words from earlier? Or...afraid to see the damage in person?

You find his name on one of the patient plaques, taking a deep breath as your knuckles tap on the hollow door. His voice follows soon after, "Yeah, come in."

Your hand lingers on the door handle for a moment before you convince yourself to go inside.

‘Come on, it’s Katsuki. He's your best fucking friend. He knows everything about you and vice versa. Don’t be a damn coward and make it weird.’

The door slides on the track at a snails pace, revealing your face bit by bit to Bakugo as he stares in your direction. Imagine your surprise when his eyes widen upon seeing you, mouth open to say something, but nothing comes out. You shut the door and walk over to the right side of his hospital bed.

“Hey Katsu—”

The words refused to come out as you took in his current condition - a full arm cast, a brace around his waist, oxygen tubes through his nose and multiple bandages covering his pretty face. The window sill is lined with various vases of fresh flowers and 'Get Well Soon!' cards. It's overwhelming, the lump in your throat hardening at the sight, unable to stop the lightning bolts of anxiety zapping the color from your face. Bakugo snaps you out of it when his left hand reaches across the bed and grips your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

“Stop analyzin’ the damage and c’mere already.”

Before you could react, he’s using his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you against him as tightly as he could manage. “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna come visit me.”

The tears are swiftly building on your waterline, threatening to downpour all over your cheeks and stain his hospital gown. It takes every ounce of willpower not to say 'I didn't think I'd ever see you again.'

“They wouldn’t let me, I’ve been trying for a week. Your mom convinced them to let me in,” you explain as you lay one of your hands over his heart, thumbing over the fabric and feeling the freshly raised scar tissue underneath. “I’ve called and texted you, but figured they didn’t let you have your phone.”

“I don’t even know where it is,” he huffs. “Ma probably has it, or it’s dead on my desk in the dorms.”

Bakugo’s fingers run through your hair, playing with it absentmindedly in silence, sighing to himself. “I’ve got so much shit runnin’ through my head that I can’t think straight.”

“Yeah...I thought that would be the case.” You pull yourself away from his embrace, shifting to the opposite side of the bed before settling in to the chair by the window. "What's going on?"

He pouts, extending his left hand in your direction. There’s a hint of pink under his bandages that begins blooming down his neck when he mumbles, “Want you closer.”

You pick up the chair to scoot it forward as Bakugo groans aloud, shaking his head and patting the empty space next to him in the hospital bed.

“Kats, there isn’t enough room for both of us,” you laugh, unable to hide the drag of your lips curling into a smile at his flustered expression. He stares at you for a moment longer, asking 'please?' with those beautiful ruby eyes of his.

How can you not give in to him?

As gingerly as you can, you slide under the thin blanket on the bed and up against his left side, his arm raised to make room for your body to mold into his. You’re terrified to touch him, treating him like a porcelain statue and stiffening in his embrace.

"M'not gonna break if ya touch me," he comments, patting you on the back for assurance. Reluctantly, you lay your head against his chest and drape your arm over his midsection, settling in and getting as comfortable as you could in the confined space, careful to avoid all of the wires and tubes hooked up to him.

"I'm not used to you being touchy-feely for more than a minute at a time," you joke, smiling when you hear the click of his tongue against his teeth in response.

"My damn parents are the only ones I've been stuck with, gimme a goddamn break!"

A few minutes pass before you two carry on the conversation again, Bakugo clearing his throat awkwardly before letting go of the breath he was holding. "How...are ya holdin' up?"

Truthfully? You weren't, hoping that the light purple pockets forming under your eyes and lifeless hair were not dead giveaways of your mental status.

"I've...been better. What about you?" you reply, blatantly lying through your teeth. It wouldn't be fair to lay out all of the traumatic shit you've thought about over the last week when he's in the hospital recovering from the actual traumatic events.

"It's...lonely here," Bakugo mutters faintly, almost too low to hear. "An' I can't sleep. The nurses are nice, though, same with the therapist they sent in yesterday."

"They made you see a therapist straight out of surgery?"

"Right? S'what I said. Didn't talk much, though. Basically gave me the rundown of UA supplying all the students a therapist next month. Don't think it'll do much for me, not like I can undo all the shit that happened, but Ma talked me into goin' later on."

"Can't hurt, even if it's every once in awhile."

"...Yeah."

You trace some of the creases in his hospital gown idly, savoring his presence and the sound of his voice. Bakugo fidgets with the material of your shirt, wanting to avoid dumping all of his thoughts on your shoulders, but the weight is too much for him to hold onto any longer.

"Izuku's...quirkless again. I don't know how to feel, but I cried like a damn child when I overheard him talkin' with All Might about it. Gave me a perspective that I never thought about before all this shit went down."

"And what's that?"

"...I robbed him of his dream."

You wish, more than anything, that you could go into Bakugo's head and pluck out all the guilt he still harbors over his and Midoriya's childhood together. It's not like Midoriya held it against him anymore, and Bakugo knew that, but he couldn't shake those demons loose that reminded him of his past self.

"You didn't. He knew the costs of One for All and agreed to it, it's not your fault."

"I know, but I feel so fuckin' shitty for treating him like he's dirt for so long."

"It's not stupid to feel," you say, feeling his body tense and relax beneath you. "But Katsuki, you need to forgive yourself. You can't let this eat away at you forever, it's been over two years since you apologized."

His heart aches at your words, knowing you're right, but he couldn't forgive himself...not yet, anyways. Maybe tomorrow, or next week, even next month, just not right now.

"...thank you," is all Bakugo can say, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from getting choked up about it for a second time. Silence falls upon the room, letting the two of you simply co-exist for a moment of peace. It had been a long fucking week, and being in the same room, let alone touching one another, was a luxury you didn't know if you'd ever have again.

"I'm out of commission for a bit, but that's not a concern to me right now. I know I can come back from this shit and stay on track to bein' number one. There's somethin' else that's been on my mind since..." he trails off, the hand on your back moving to your shoulder to tighten his hold on you. "...I fought Shigaraki in that damn fortress."

You rest your hand atop his on your shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it if it's stressful."

"No, I need'ta tell ya before I chicken out 'cause I didn't say it when I had the chance." He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, twisting the strands in his finger as he bit his lip nervously. He's thankful you aren't currently looking at him, else wise all his cover would be blown before he spoke one word about it.

"The second he broke my arm, I didn't think about the pain, all I could think about was seein' you again. And then some otherworldly shit happened, the weirdest fuckin' out of body experience. I didn't believe in any of that junk until now."

Hearing him recollect the memory of his untimely death resurfaces all of the dormant fears lying in your mind from your nightmares. You screw your eyes shut to keep them away, to shield you a little longer from the pain they inflict upon you. Bakugo was right here, right now, with you. He's not an illusion or a figment of your imagination...he's here.

"...are you shaking?" He asks, hand cascading down your back to calm your nerves. You hadn't noticed that you were trembling, focused on doing your damndest to keep it together and let him spill his guts freely. "Do you want me to stop talkin' about it?"

It's muffled against his hospital gown, but you're able to squeak out a measly 'no.' He pats your head tenderly and shuts his eyes before continuing.

"I remember focusin' on rushing in and getting hit a second time, but this felt...different. There wasn't any pain, and when I came to, All Might's vestige ghost was there. He didn't say anything when I talked to him," Bakugo pauses, inhaling deeply to compose himself. "He led me back to UA and took me to the support wing's workshop. You were testing somethin' with Goggles, giggling away like an idiot with her."

The tears welling up in your eyes were inevitable at this point - was he insinuating that while he was skirting between life and death, he thought about you?

"And then I was outside, lying in the grass at our favorite spot down by the river. You'd dropped your fuckin' popsicle in the dirt, whining about how much you wanted it. I made fun of ya a bit before givin' you mine, but you insisted we share it instead. It was...nice. Everything felt warm and peaceful. When I actually woke up to Jeanist and the others, they kept sayin' I was revived and needed to go to the hospital. That's when I jumped in to help Deku and, well, y'know the rest."

Your body shivers, the hiccup you were desperately holding in coming to the surface in a muted sob. He silently lets a few tears fall, too, the bandages growing saturated with saltiness and stinging the open cuts on his face. His stomach was in knots, but shockingly, he welcomed the foreign feeling. To him, it only confirmed what he felt was true. He didn't know jack shit about love, but was more than confident that he could untangle the complexities of it with you.

"I was knockin' on death's door and you led me back home. Before I left, I was gonna tell ya how important you are to me...now more than ever."

You pray that Bakugo can't feel, or hear, how hard your heart was beating against your sternum, hammering away at his unexpected confession. The whirring of the medical machinery accompanied his words hanging in the air, swirling in tandem with the thoughts in your head.

Do it.

Say it.

Take the chance.

Cautiously, you attempt to sit up and haphazardly slip on the sheets, colliding foreheads with him while trying to catch yourself. Instead of scolding you, Bakugo bursts out laughing, a few stray tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "Y'coulda said something instead of head butting me, brat."

"Like you gave me a chance to say shit!" you scoff, poking him in the chest playfully. When your eyes meet, reflective hearts are bouncing between your gazes, faces lingering dangerously close to one another. "I've...been waiting to tell you something, too."

"Yeah? An' what's that?"

Your vision begins to blur, eyes falling shut as the gravity becomes too much to bare any longer. Your left hand glides up his chest, finding purchase on his collarbone while your lips rest plush against his. Electricity races through your veins and time stands still, all the clichés about love coming to the forefront of your mind and how true they proved to be in the moment. You barely notice when Bakugo's free hand threads through your hair and settles at the nape of your neck, melding the two of you into a deeper first, and definitely not last, kiss. When you part, it's not met with gasps for air, but with breathless sighs of bliss. You're pulling away only to gravitate back into his orbit, unable to resist his advance when he lurches forward to steal a second kiss. Your lips quiver against his as the words in your heart beg to be released, unable to cage the emotions thrashing around in your chest.

"You have no idea how many nightmares…I had about you not coming home…or that it was too late…to bring you back to life in the hospital,” you mutter between delicate kisses, finally having the strength to lean back and lock eyes with him. “I'd be standing at your goddamn grave like a widow whose husband returned from war in a casket, vacantly staring at the ground while the rain soaked through my clothes. The roses always had thorns that cut my hands open. It changed every single night, a new version of losing you before getting the chance to say...," you stop, attempting to swallow the pain long enough to confess, but your voice betrays you and cracks as you blurt out, "that I love you, Katsuki, and—"

He dreamily exclaims, "I love you, too," before the realization hits that he said it out loud and not in his head. It catches you both off guard and sends him into an adorable panic, the previous pink hue to his skin growing deeper by the second.

"S-shit," he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose to hide his lovesick expression. Your run your finger along his jawline, careful not to catch any of the bandaging, and stop at his chin to coax his attention back to you.

"I want to be the loudest person that you can hear cheering for you in a crowd when you save a little kid or capture a villain." Your hand cups the right side of his face while you continue to pour your bruised heart out. "To be your number one fan at signings and promo events that an agency is going to force your grumpy ass to do, the one who picks up your broken pieces when no one else is around. I want to give you everything because you deserve nothing less than that."

For the first time in his short life, Bakugo is speechless. What did he ever do to deserve your endearment? He wasn't one to shy away from expressing what was owed to him through blood, sweat and tears - like working hard on an assignment and deserving nothing short of a 100% passing grade - but this was unlike anything else. He truly didn't know why you were so captivated by his energy, even before these confessions came stumbling out into the open. What about him appealed to you in such a way to make you desire him so deeply?

"I—" he struggles to find the words to say, searching his brain incessantly for something to match your sweet sincerity. "I'd be happy sharin' popsicles with you by the river for the rest of my life if that's what it came down to. I don't need money or fame as a hero, bein' with you is more than enough for me."

In the past, something so sickly sweet would make Bakugo gag and be an immature jackass over the sentimentality, but now? He wouldn't admit that he enjoys the warmth blossoming in his chest and how it gives him stupid ass butterflies, especially when it comes to you. It struck at the most random times; when you'd laugh at his dumb jokes, toss him a smile in the hallway between classes, sit on the countertop while he cooked dinner for you two in the common room kitchen, fall asleep during your movie nights on his shoulder and drool on his shirt...the list kept growing exponentially until it kept him up at night, yearning to be by your side whenever you two were apart.

He should've known the moment you approached him on the playground over a decade ago, joining him on that rusty swing set out of nowhere and started talking his ear off about the dandelions by the riverbed.

Fuck, he was smitten as hell for you.

Your eyes well up with crocodile tears, lower lip wobbling and unable to stop the fat droplets coating your lashes, staining your strawberry cheeks and dripping down your neck.

"T-thank you," you choke out, wiping your palms over your face to erase the tears. Bakugo chuckles under his breath, reaching to cradle your cheek in his hand.

"So, do I still gotta ask you?" he jokes, smiling awkwardly as his eyes dart to the ceiling.

You don't know what he's referring to. "Ask me...what?"

"...Seriously?" Bakugo lets his hand fall from your face. The blank expression on your face confirms you are absolutely clueless to what he means.

"Fuck, fine." He rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders dramatically before shifting in the bed to re-position himself. He leisurely tilts his head forward and into your space, close enough for his breath to fan over your lips as he speaks. "I want ya to be mine."

"Didn't sound like a question to me," you tease, lovingly nuzzling your nose with his.

"Shut the fuck up...wanna hear ya say it."

Uh oh, gravity is kicking in again.

Your lips part with half-lidded eyes as you purr, "I'm already yours, Katsuki," before melting into him, sealing your promise with another kiss. He tries to control it, but the tiniest moan floods out of him when he experimentally swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, ferociously flaring your cheeks into a deep scarlet flush as you reciprocate. Instinctively, he moves his right arm to cradle you closer and is met with searing pain, jolting away from your lips unexpectedly.

"Fuck!" he shouts, out of breath and wincing at the pain burning into his shoulder. "Sorry, s'my fault for trying to move the damn thing. Wasn't thinkin' and forgot where we are."

The sparkle in his eyes dim as he cast his gaze downward to analyze the cast. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I was never good at timin', but dammit, I wish I could hold ya properly."

"No, no, it's alright, we've got plenty of time when you can."

Bakugo exhales while shifting his weight to readjust, making room for you to lay on his chest and tucking you back under his good arm a second time.

"Promise me somethin'," he sighs into your hair. "No matter how awful shit gets in the future, don't lose faith in me or the others over some dumbass villains and let it sour your outlook on the world."

Wow, were your feelings that obvious?

"It's...not that." Guilt trickles down your spine, goosebumps prickling up your arms from pinpointing the negative associations you've built up in your head. "Of course I believe in you, Kats, but it scares the shit out of me that this all happened before any of you had the chance to be pros. I know you said you're not worried about it, but I am."

He knows you're right, you have every reason to be concerned over the state of the world and what that means for the future after everything that's happened this year.

"I have hope," he starts, letting his head fall back against the stack of pillows. "Doc told me my right arm is dead in the water 'cause of all the bone segments they had to join together in the surgery, but the possibility of it healin' isn't out of the question."

Your heart sinks in the pause of conversation. How could he have such a positive outlook after being legally dead?

"I refused a prosthetic and wanna try rehab first. M'not gonna let it ruin my approach to bein' a hero. The real challenge is my heart, but that's not—"

"Wait, what's wrong with your heart? I thought Edgeshot patched it up?" you interrupt, turning up at him with your brows scrunched together. It might be a silly question, all things considered, but Edgeshot was a masterful surgeon with a high success rate in his field...everything should be fine, right?

His heartbeat kicks up in tempo under your cheek - that can't be a good sign.

"He did...but it's not that simple, sweetheart. I've gotta take it easy for at least six weeks, maybe some meds to keep things stable. Shit sucks, considering I'm used to training daily, but it's not impossible to deal with. I can handle it. Plus, I got you an' your gadgets on my side."

"And you're telling me all this, but are worried about my feelings and Izuku being quirkless instead of yourself?"

Damn, you hit the nail on the head. Bakugo smirks, laughing to himself. "Heh, yeah. Guess so."

"Typical Katsuki, silently caring about everyone else before himself." You snuggle into him, a yawn falling out of you as you pull the blanket up to your shoulders. "Stop making me like you more and go back to grumpy, please."

"Only if ya promise to stick with me."

"Like you have to ask. I promise."

He places a kiss to the crown of your head. "Good."

Your eyes fall shut, the rhythm of Bakugo's heart beginning to lull you into a tranquil, and much needed, sleep. Before you pass out, you drowsily slur, "Everything's gonna be okay. You're the strongest person I know...love you, Kats."

Pearlescent tears pool at the corners of his eyes, the ones that escape rolling over the gauze on his face and soaking into the material once more. All the pain, worry, and relentless thoughts about failure temporarily fade away into nothingness, offering him peace and a sense of safety to drift off to dreamland. He closes his eyes, lips upturned into a smile as he whispers, "Thank you...love you too, princess. Sweet dreams."

The door to Bakugo's room creaked open a half-hour later, Mitsuki and Masaru returning with dinner as promised. "Hey kid, we're—"

She stops herself, putting a finger to her lips and turning to Masaru, signaling for him to quietly shut the door. They can't help but jointly smile at the sight before them, the two of you are snoring away on the hospital bed together, cozied up under the sheets and out like a light.

"Reminds you of us, doesn't it? I had a feeling seeing her would help him relax," Masaru says, lightly stroking Mitsuki's back. "Why don't we come back in a bit to see if they're up?"

She nods and hands the containers of mabo tofu for him to take while she approaches the hospital bed. Her palm glides over Bakugo's cast, thumb tracing over his right wrist as her mind wandered back to memories of him as a little firecracker of a child; chasing butterflies in the backyard, playing super heroes with Izuku, and his toothy little grin anytime he was excited about something. Nineteen years flew by, and Mitsuki couldn't be prouder of her bombastic hero. Before turning to leave with Masaru, she affectionately pinches Bakugo's cheek, light enough not wake him from his slumber. She peers over at you, admiring how much you've grown, too.

'If anyone's gonna take care of my brat, it's you...thank you.'

The two of them leave you to enjoy each other's comfort.

The hurricane has passed and there's sunlight shining on a new future. The will be storms to come, but society has been given a chance to heal, all thanks to the next generation of pro heroes sacrificing their youth to challenge the status quo. Things won't be easy, that's for damn sure, but it's gonna take something stronger than the depths of hell to keep Katsuki Bakugo away from his dream - and you.

written in a frenzy while listening to epiphany // evermore & semi-proof read through my own tears, so apologies if it's just a bunch of mushy ramble. i have a bunch of other projects to work on, and am shifting back to them, this just was in my head and i needed to get it out. thanks for reading. <3

#☆.rei writes #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #soft bakugou #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #soft bakugo #my hero academia

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pietropatrol · 4 months ago

Text

The Love You Want (Part 2/2)

Read Part 1

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, pining idiots, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 3,359

The prestigious doctors Tony had wanted you to schmooze were an easy conversation for two reasons.

One being you were a medical professional yourself. You were just a nurse practitioner in terms of your degree, but they were curious about how you used it in the field as an Avenger. Two, you were a walking medical miracle.

The serum had made you not only able to let your body heal itself, but heal others. Though the latter was to a certain extent and you had learned that the hard way.

The rule now was to stabilize with your powers if necessary, then treat medically until out of combat. Your powers could be depleted if you used them extensively on others, to the point your body is unable to heal yourself.

Bucky slid up to your side with another drink after a few minutes. He inclined his head to you and you nodded in return.

You would be okay… eventually. Would your heartache last for a few months? Yes. Pietro had been a fixation in your life for the last 2 years. You had never even entertained the thought of trying to be with someone else, officially or casually.

Why would you? You trusted no one outside of your team. At the rate it took to trust someone, it would be a decade before you’d be able to even try. You’d probably have to up your therapy sessions now too.

When the band started up after their break, Bucky excused the pair of you and pulled you over to the dance floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the sting returning to your eyes. “I basically told him I loved him, and then I broke it off.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, he didn’t seem to know what to say.” Your voice was tight. “And when he did, I kept spewing my feelings at him. Like if I didn’t get it all out it was going to eat me alive.”

“And how do you feel now?” Bucky glanced over your shoulder, face neutral at whoever he made eye contact with.

“Is it pathetic of me to feel empty? How could I become so dependent on him? After everything that’s happened to me?”

Bucky’s gaze softened on you. “Y/N, you’re not pathetic. You love Pietro, and he isn’t your ex. It’s okay that you are attached to him.”

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I am going to give you my observation, okay? Pietro loves you too.”

You started to disagree.

Bucky shook his head. “He has been stalking you since the moment you came back out here. His eyes have not left you. I’ve been watching him circle this atrium, ignore his date, and try to approach you multiple times.”

“I told you, he’s possessive.”

“Why would he be if he didn’t love you? Sure, some other men out there may be possessive without love, but I’ve seen how protective he is of you too. On missions, he’s not ever far from you. And, I bet if I start putting the moves on you again he’s going to stop being a scared-cat and finally come over here.”

“I’m just that good in bed is all, he doesn’t want to lose that,” you joked, though the words sounded hollow to your ears.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer as he dipped his heads towards you.

You didn’t even have time to pull your head back as you were swept into the arms of Pietro and on the other side of the dance floor.

Bucky gave you a look that was clearly an ‘I told you so’ and went back to the bar.

“I don’t share, Y/N. I’ve told you this,” Pietro growled and it made your knees weak. Why was him being a possessive asshole hot to you?

“And I thought I told you it was best for us to end whatever this is?” You gave him a pointed look.

“So you jump right on the next available teammate?”

“Sure, that’s what that was,” you spat. “Bucky is my new fuck buddy.”

Pietro paused from leading you around the dance floor and narrowed his eyes in on you, searching for something.

You stuck your chin out at him and didn’t speak a word. He could be the one to determine if that was true or not. If that was what he thought of you, so be it.

“I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been selfish with you and I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Saying for everything would be an easy out, but you deserve more than that.” His hand delicately curled into your waist. Your instincts screamed to move closer to him, to create more contact.

“You can start with bringing my own personal nemesis to this event, and starving me beforehand. I can’t scarf down the hors d’oeuvres without worrying I am going to end up on the ‘don’t’ section of their ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ column,” you replied, throwing a glare at Sierra who was already glaring at you.

“You may end up in that section anyway for stealing her date.” He grinned teasingly down at you and your heart raced. It felt friendly in a way it hadn’t been for a long time.

“Her date actually stole me from mine, why do they always blame women for men’s actions?” You scowled.

“Are you really here with Barnes officially?”

“I would ask you the same thing about Lineheart, but I saw you physically recoil from her.” You rose your eyebrows at him.

He had the decency to appear a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing her to get a rise out of you. I now realize what a bad idea that was.”

“Wow, an apology and confession.”

“Are you really here with Barnes?” Pietro insisted on knowing.

“Well considering you made it so I would not remember this event was coming up—”

“I’m only half-sorry for that. The second half that is, when I didn’t remind you. The initial distraction I am quite proud of.” He cocked his head at you, watching the heat spread up your neck and cheeks.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. “No, I’m not here with Bucky. He found me while I was avoiding you and offered to help make you jealous.”

The flash of relief was apparent in Pietro’s eyes. “Because it looked very convincing.”

“Well, that is part of our jobs some days. Acting convincing. You and I have done it many times before.”

The pair of you had done a few undercover missions that required you to be a couple. It was usually the most fun you had doing a job.

“Yeah, but I like to think it’s because we have something real going on too.” Pietro’s thumb started stroking your side, making it difficult to not melt into him.

“I’m sure it helped for you, as apparently you are terrible at acting. But it was all a show to make you jealous. Which is immature, I know. But fight fire with fire. It got the point across didn’t it?”

“Were you jealous?” Pietro asked, spinning you around again.

“Truthfully, no.” You frowned and he frowned back at you. “I was more hurt than anything, and then I knew you were trying to make me jealous so I was pissed off.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Why would you even want me to be jealous, Pietro? It’s not like I’ve been the one pushing you away,” you said sharply.

Pietro sighed and pulled you off the dance floor. “Can we go talk somewhere more quiet? I’ve fucked up this all up, and I don’t want to cross our wires wrong anymore.”

“Yeah, I know a place.”

****

“How did you know about this?” Pietro glanced around the rooftop garden, empty and off limits for this event.

“I attended a S.H.I.E.L.D. event here a lifetime ago.” You took a swig from the bottle of champagne you stole from the kitchen on the way.

Last time you had been up here, your parents and ex were in attendance and everything was seemingly perfect. Your ex was still a secret hydra agent the whole time after all.

“I hope it was a happy time.”

“If I forget all that happened after, sure,” you said with a small laugh and handed the bottle to Pietro, who graciously accepted. “Not that I would want too, completely,” you added quietly.

“Y/N,” he started, turning to face you. You still looked out over the city, unsure and scared of what was going to be said. “I wish I could take back this last year.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as an ache started to spread across through your chest.

“After I am almost died for the second time in my life, I got scared for many reasons. And I didn’t handle it well. Do you know why I got hurt?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice at that moment.

“I hesitated between you and Wanda. It took me a day or two to figure that out. I was going for Wanda but then I saw a gun on you and I changed course.”

“I would have been fine,” you assured him. “I was fine.”

“Which scared me even more. I know you will be fine 99% of the time. But in that moment all I could think about was protecting you. That what if that time it was the 1% of the time you wouldn’t be fine?”

“Unlikely, but I get that.” You turned to him and met his intense gaze. “There is a 75% chance you’ll be fine, but that 25% feels so much bigger.”

Pietro nodded and continued, “In that moment, you became more of a priority than Wanda, and that scared me. It still scares me. She has been my priority since we were children, but you overroad that. It felt like I betrayed her.”

“Is that why she’s been mad at me since then?” You frowned. It had been hard to lose the close relationship with Wanda while Pietro was also pushing you away.

“No. She’s mad at your for not breaking it off with me after I started pushing you away. She thinks you deserved better.”

“The both of you are terrible at communication,” you mused, and turned back to look over the city.

“Which brings me to also why I’ve been ass.” Pietro took a deep breath.

“An astronomical ass,” you agreed.

“Astronomical, yes. What scares me the most is loving you and losing you.” Your gaze snapped back to him, dumbfounded. “I thought that if I just pushed you away enough, I would never have to risk feeling that. I tried to quit you cold turkey, but I’m selfish and can’t go a week without your touch. I’m so selfish that I don’t want—”

“Wait—”

“To see you with any other man. I don’t want another man to even—”

“Pietro, wait—”

“touch or flirt with you. But I realize now, I was going to lose you even more if I pushed you away. I love you and I hurt you, and I’m so—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, stunning him into silence. “You love me?”

His quirked an eyebrow at you and pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Yes, I love you. What little I had of you was the only thing keeping me sane. But it was also driving me insane. It was torture to leave you abruptly every time when all I wanted to do was burrow further into you and never leave.”

A shudder ran up your spine and Pietro smirked. You were simultaneously relieved, joyful, and annoyed at the same time at that look.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” You smacked his shoulder. “When has pretending not to love someone ever worked? We’ve watched movies together where the hero hurts the love interest to protect them, and it doesn’t work.”

“Well, those love interests weren’t also superheroes,” Pietro defended himself.

“Do superheroes not also have feelings?”

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.”

“A fucking idiot,” you corrected.

“You make me one, honestly,” he chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek. “But it was more than a selfish decision too. Just so you know.” His thumbs brushed your cheek bones, leaving trails of tingling skin. “I got hurt and then you got hurt trying to help me. I thought pulling away would stop whatever we had going on and you would be safe if you were less inclined to save my ass.”

“It was my decision to make!” you said, letting your annoyance penetrate every syllable.

“Yes, but we didn’t know at the time that your powers can be drained. You may have been less likely to jump straight into a line of fire if I got hurt again.”

“You’ve watched too many hero movies now that I think about it. So much so that you think like the hero. Doubting how stubborn the love interest is.” You narrowed your eyes at his amused expression. “Not realizing that as strongly as the hero feels for the love interest, the love interest feels just as much. That she would crawl through broken glass to save the hero.”

“And I ask that you promise me not to, dragoste.” His hand slide onto the back of your neck and he pulled you flush to him. His heat welcome in the cool summer air. “It hurts me more to see you hurt because of me.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to live without that promise.” You brushed your lips against his. “Would you make the same promise to me?”

A rumble of disagreement vibrated in his chest and he held you tighter. “I can’t make that promise.”

“Well, it appears we are at an impasse.”

“Can we just agree not to get hurt as much as possible?” Pietro nuzzled into your neck, his hands skating down your spine.

“I think I can try,” you snorted, tilting your head back to give him full access to you neck.

“If you let me, I will love you with my whole being. I’ve been biting—” he nipped as the crook of your neck and you yelped. “—at the bit to do so for so long.”

“I think the phrase is ‘champing at the bit’,” you breathlessly teased. “But I think I can be inclined to let you love me. Would you mind showing me?”

Pietro pulled away momentarily, resulting in an annoyed grunt from you.

“Were you going to let Barnes kiss you?” His eyes were dark and molten on yours.

“If I said yes, you would get even more possessive and it’s kind of hot. But no, I was going to pull away when you intervened to keep me to yourself. Because I love you, Pietro.”

“I can’t believe he was going to kiss you.” Pietro came back to your neck and his hands fiddled with the silk of your dress just above your ass. “And while you are painfully beautiful in your dress, I would much rather see you out of it.”

****

Y/N Y/L/N CAUSING RIFT IN AVENGERS

Tensions were high at last night’s Stark Industries gala. Y/N Y/L/N, a.k.a. Vitality, was seen to be getting extremely cozy with not only Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier, but also Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver. Our source says Y/L/N was all over Barnes at the beginning of the night until Maximoff almost came to blows with his teammate over her. How many more teammates has Y/L/N—

Your phone was ripped from your hands and tossed onto the nightstand. You looked up to see Pietro, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and holding the morning’s provisions he had just gone in search of.

“Do not read that garbage,” he chided, “She’s going to be up your ass for a bit but she’ll get bored.”

“She is not going to let this go anytime soon, Piet. You poked the proverbial bear by basically ghosting her. And she saw us leave together!”

“Everyone saw us leave together, because I wanted them to,” Pietro admitted and slid the plate over to you. It was an assortment of fruits and a couple of bagels.

“Well you succeeded. I will avoid the internet for the foreseeable future. Your fangirls are going to have a field day with me,” you sighed and stifled a yawn.

Pietro’s eyes tracked your movements and trailed to your bare backside. “I could get used to this.”

“Used to what?” you played dumb, wanting to hear the answer.

“You naked in our bed every morning.”

You paused from grabbing a strawberry. “Our bed?”

“You’re moving into my room,” he stated, sliding up over your back and ghosting his lips over your shoulder before he bit down at the base of your neck.

You did you best not to gurgle in response. That spot always sent every nerve into a frenzy.

“I will not spend another night or morning away from you, if I can help it,” he murmured and gripped your hip bones in his warm, skillful hands.

“Your moving this fast, huh Maximoff?” you tried to keep a level tone, but your voice still came out breathy as he pinned you further to mattress under his weight.

“This,” he emphasized by pressing himself into your backside, letting you feel just what he meant, “has been going on for two years, dragoste. So not fast at all. Besides, some things don’t need to be fast. I can be quite good at taking things slow, as you know.”

His teeth nibbled at you again. “I know all to well, you are torturously slow sometimes,” you panted.

“You love the result though, no?” His lips began to trail down your back.

You bit back a moan as he hiked your hips up, ass in the air. His fingers dancing dangerously over you clit. You tried to push again him, but he quickly held you in place.

“So eager, dragoste? It’s only been an hour.”

You growled in frustration. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Pietro.”

“You can’t even see my face,” he argued.

“Oh, eat me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, “after you answer my question.”

“Of course,” you whined, aching from the teasing.

“Good girl.”

His mouth was on you before you could even moan from being called a good girl.

****

“Alright, who won?” Tony looked around to the team that had made it to the kitchen that morning.

“Won what?” Nat asked.

“The bet.”

“What bet?”

“For how long it would take Pietro and Y/N to acknowledge their feelings and go public. I had 1 year since we placed the bet, we’re at 10 months since the bet.” Tony looked to Wanda, Steve, and Bruce.

“You guys knew?” Nat gaped at them.

“You didn’t?” Steve was shocked. “Nat, even I could see it.”

“No, Steve knows only because he was unfortunate to walk in on them in the sparing room onetime. They did not notice,” Tony rolled eyes.

“And you Bruce?” Nat asked, she couldn’t believe she’d not seen it.

“I was unfortunate to walk in on them in the med bay once after a missions, they did not notice.” Bruce grimaced. “I just needed a bandaid.”

“All I needed to see was their constant fuck me eyes to know. It sometimes can come off as playful or antagonistic looks, but they may be one and the same for them.” Tony shrugged.

“Well, I lost. I thought it would only take a month for them to work their shit out,” Wanda groaned.

“I had six months, so that puts me four months off,” Steve sighed.

“I had three months, I had more faith in them than I should have,” Bruce conceded.

“Well that makes me the winner. They are both stubborn idiots. What’s our next wager? When to expect a mini-avenger now that they are bound to be stupid-in-love idiots?” Tony teased.

“Not funny, Stark,” Nat grunted.

***

REQUESTED TAGS: @fxllen0stxrs, @littlemarvelstan8, fandomenbylover

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months ago

Text

Break Free

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: angst, prison!wanda

Summary: Four new prisoners get admitted into the Raft, and you now have four new clients as the resident psychiatrist. Wanda is an interesting person and the more you get to know her, the more you understand the position she’s in. She’s a hero even if she doesn’t see it.

Squares Filled: "I won't let you be hurt anymore." for @scarletwitchbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

When you got into the psychiatric field, never did you think you would be at one of the most dangerous prisons on Earth. The Raft houses the most dangerous criminals known to man. They started letting superhumans into the prison since it’s the only safe place to put them.

Never did you think you’d ever see any of the Avengers here, either.

You’ve seen some of the worst humans known to man, so why the hell are heroes locked up here? They didn’t do anything wrong. It’s no secret that the Accords were put into effect, and you know some of the Avengers signed it and others didn’t. Everyone heard about the fight at the German airport.

If you were on the team, you wouldn’t have signed it, either.

Thaddeus Ross walks with you down the hallway where the Avengers are staying. You’re the on-call psychiatrist where you work with each prisoner one-on-one and provide them with a bit of therapy and medication to help them. Since they’ve just arrived, Ross is introducing you to them since they are now your new clients.

“We will be giving most of the other prisoners to Dr. Farrow so you can focus solely on our new guests.”

“Are you sure this is the best option? They didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ross stops walking and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“They violated the Accords. They’re criminals.”

He won’t listen to reason so you don’t say anything more of the matter. Everyone knows who the Avengers are but Ross takes you to their cells to do introductions anyway.

“Meet Sam Wilson a.k.a the Falcon.” Sam paces the entire cell and only pauses when he locks eyes with you. “Steve Rogers right-hand man. If he gives you any trouble, don’t hesitate to punish him how you see fit.”

“Real mature,” Sam rolls his eyes and goes back to pacing.

Ross takes you from his cell to the next.

“Clint Barton a.k.a Hawkeye.” Clint looks at you but doesn’t say a word. He’s known for being stealthy and not making any noise. He’s not a big talker which is going to be a problem for you. “He’s one of the most notable spies besides Black Widow. Don’t let him manipulate you.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Clint bites out.

Ross takes you to the next cell.

“Look, I have a family. They’re going to be worried about me. I’ll do whatever, just get me out of here.”

“Scott Lang a.k.a Antman. He’s a talker. Won’t shut up. Wouldn’t blame you if you skipped his session every once in a while,” Ross scoffs.

“Come on!” Scott begs, but Ross ignores him.

The final cell he takes you to is the one you’ve been looking forward to the most.

“Wanda Maximoff.” She is sitting on the ground with a straight jacket on and a blank look on her face. She looks so broken. What have they done to her? “The witch.”

“Why is she in a straight jacket?”

“We can’t allow her to use her magic. Be careful with her. She’ll get in your head.” Ross takes you back to his office before you can say anything else about it. He must know that what he’s doing is wrong, right? “You’ll be given two hours with each person a day while also tending to some of the other prisoners. I don’t care who you start with but plan your time however you’d like. Any questions?”

“Are you sure they belong here?”

“Yes. They’re criminals. They went against the Accords that over a hundred countries had signed.”

You don’t think the Accords should have ever happened, but you keep your opinions to yourself. You start the day by having sessions with the other prisoners because you’re unsure how you’re going to go about treating the Avengers. They have nothing that needs to be treated but if you don’t do your job, you’ll get fired.

After lunch, you decide it’s time to talk to the Avengers. You wanted to start with an easy one, Scott, but you find yourself in Wanda’s cell with her.

“We didn’t get to meet last time but my name is Dr. Y/N. Can you tell me a little about you?” Wanda doesn’t speak. She looks at you but you don’t think she’s seeing you. She’s distancing herself from the situation. “Wanda, don’t do that. Don’t disassociate.”

“What do you know? You have no idea how I’m feeling,” she says and looks at you.

“You’re right. I don’t, but I do know that disassociation hurts more than it heals. I’ve been doing this a long time, Wanda. I want to help people and understand them better. I believe in the power of medicine which is what I give out.”

“Do you think I need help like that?”

“No. I don’t think what they’re doing to you or the others is right.”

“It’s fine,” she sighs and looks down.

“No, it’s not. It’s not humane.” She looks at you. “I don’t think you did anything wrong here.”

“They seem to think so.”

“For now, don’t think about them. Think about us. It’s just you and me in this room. I just want to get to know you.”

“Because you have to.”

“Because I want to. I could just sit here and pump you full of so much medicine you’ll forget your own name or I can get to know you and understand you as a person.” You hate that she’s in a straightjacket. You fight the urge to take it off her but then Ross will blow a fire under your ass for doing it. “Your choice.”

Wanda doesn’t say anything for five minutes as she contemplates her options.

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with your interests. What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Before… Sokovia… I loved going to the movies with my brother. We’d sit in the back and make fun of the characters.” She has a faint smile on her face from the memory. “We’d do everything together.”

“You must miss him.”

You’re no stranger to what happened in Sokovia.

“He was my best friend.”

“What about afterward? How did you cope with the loss of your brother?”

“I didn’t. My home was ruined. My parents were gone. My brother was gone. I had no one left. I was living in a place with strangers. I usually kept to myself. I liked playing guitar. Tony got me one. I watched a lot of TV.”

“What were your favorite shows?”

“The Dick Van Dyke Show. My family and I used to watch those when I was a kid. It makes me feel close to them.”

“What made you feel safe?”

“Vision.”

“What will make you feel safe now?”

Wanda looks at you in surprise. She didn’t expect you to ask her that question. Normally, prisons don’t care about the comfort of their prisoners but you do. She looks down at the jacket wrapped around her and you nod in understanding. She flinches back when you approach her but she doesn’t move away from you. You step behind her and undo her jacket so that her arms aren’t restricted. You take the jacket off her and lay it over your arm.

“I can’t do much but I can do this. You don’t deserve this.”

Wanda looks up at you with unshed tears in her eyes. Your phone rings and you look at the message Ross sends you.

My office. Now.

“I gotta go. I look forward to talking to you again.”

You leave her cell and make your way to Ross’ office. He doesn’t look too happy and you have a feeling it has something to do with the jacket still over your arm.

“Who gave you the authority to remove her jacket?”

“Me. I did what was best for my patient. Isn’t that why I’m here? To help them become the better versions of themselves? Isn’t that why you hired a psychiatrist and not a psychologist so I could prescribe them medicine if needed?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Then let me do my damn job. No one who isn’t clinically insane deserves to be in a straightjacket.”

“I don’t like your tone, Y/N.”

“You want to fire me? Go ahead. Good luck finding someone who will want to come out here.”

“You’re dismissed,” he says through clenched teeth.

You’re the only one here who doesn’t put up with Ross’ bullshit and he knows it. Everyone else is afraid of him but you won’t let him control you like he does everyone else. You respect yourself too much to let him.

Scott is the easiest to talk to since he won’t shut up. You ask him one question and he’ll go off on a tangent that has nothing to do with what you asked him. Clint is more reserved and will only give you one or two-word answers. It’s clear he isn’t interested in talking with you. Sam is more talkative than Clint but loves to compare this to his experiences with the Air Force. Wanda is the only one you connect with on a personal level. There’s something about her that’s pulling you to her, and you know it’s not her magic.

The next time you see Wanda, you’ve brought her something to eat. She is lying in her bed when you enter, and she sits up to greet you.

“I don’t like what they serve. I brought you something from my personal stash,” you wink at her.

“Thank you,” she smiles.

You sit down on the other side of her bed and share your food with her even though you let her eat most of it.

“Tell me, do you like your powers?”

“I’m kind of stuck with them so I have to, right?”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you like them?”

“Sometimes, no.”

“How did you get them?”

She knows you know how she did but talking about it helps the mind come to terms with what happened so that it may start to heal from it.

“Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“Whatever version you’re comfortable with giving.”

“My parents were killed by a bomb hitting our complex. The bomb came from Stark Industries. Pietro and I grew up to hate Stark and anything that he did. We attended every protest against him, did everything we could to try and stop him from making weapons and destroying cities for his selfish purposes.

“Hydra saw us and gave us an opportunity to strengthen our country. They gave us a way to fight back those who had too much power. They had Loki’s scepter. Apparently, I was born with the ability of magic but it was so weak that had I not been with Hydra, it probably would have diminished into nothing. The experiments they did allowed the mind stone to reactivate that side of me. It gave me my abilities.”

“Did you want to volunteer for their experiments or do you think Pietro had to convince you to?”

“I think we wanted to matter. I think we were looking for a reason for why all the bad things were happening to us.”

“Do you think you’d do the same thing if you had the chance?”

“No, I don’t,” she sighs. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you do what you do? Why prisoners?”

“I believe in helping everyone regardless of what they’ve done. Some prisoners think prison is a rehab and use that to get better. Some don’t, but I believe in the power of medicine. I just want to help people.”

“And us?”

“I’d use medicine if I thought it would help. Honestly, I don’t think you guys have done anything wrong. I don’t think you guys deserve to be here. You’re heroes in my eyes, especially you.”

Wanda looks into your eyes and tries to understand what you’re thinking. Her cell has power-dampening technology in the walls so she can’t use her magic. She glances down at your lips. Time stops and the only thing that matters is Wanda. She barely moves an inch when the alarms go off and the red light flashes in the hallway.

“Shit, I gotta go.”

“What’s happening?”

“A prisoner escaped. Finish the food. I’ll be back for it later.”

Wanda watches you leave and she doesn’t realize she’s smiling until she sees her reflection in the glass. Ross got a handle on the prisoner who escaped. One of the nurses came by to administer medicine for him but they didn’t know that the prisoner doesn’t like to be touched without warning. He knocked her out. You’re the only one who knows this about him since he’s worked with you since he came here.

That took the next three hours of your time, so it’s nearing dinnertime when you’re finished. Wanda deserves more than the slop they serve, so you’ll fix her a plate from the nurses’ station. You’re plating the food when you hear commotion come from the other nurses.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Tony Stark is here.”

You drop what you’re doing and head over to the command center where you spot Tony talking to Ross.

“If Sam’s going to talk to anyone, it’s you, Tony.”

“Yeah, let me see what I can do.”

Steve and Bucky are men on the run, and Ross is searching for them since they violated those stupid Accords. Ross thinks if Tony talks to Sam, he’ll tell him where they are. Tony leaves Ross’ office and you rush to catch up to Tony.

“You’re not on Ross’ side, are you?” you whisper.

Tony pauses and looks at you. He doesn’t know who you are and he doesn’t trust you to reveal his true motives.

“Get back to work before you get in trouble.”

Yeah, he’s not on Ross’ side. Tony and Steve are best friends. He’s here because Steve needs him. If he is going to get Sam to tell him where Steve is, then he can’t let Ross know. Tony has a plan. You’re not sure what it is but you’re going to use it to your advantage. If this goes sideways, you’ll get fired but if it works, you can get Wanda out of here. You rush over to her cell and open the door without letting it close.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I need you to trust me for the next ten minutes. Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

“What?”

“I don’t have much time. Tony is here talking to Sam. I don’t even know if this is going to work but I have to try. You don’t belong here, Wanda. None of you do. I won’t let you be hurt anymore. Come on.”

Wanda jumps out of bed and follows you out of her cell. She feels her powers heighten inside of her now that she is no longer under the influence of the power-dampening technology. All eyes are going to be on Tony so you’re banking on none of them seeing you and Wanda escaping.

You hold her hand the entire time you’re running with her to where Tony’s helicopter is. Of course, there are guards patrolling the area and moving shipments in and out of the area. If you go now, you’ll be spotted and she’ll be in even more trouble than she already is.

“Shit, that’s a lot of guards. I really didn’t think this through.”

“I got this,” she whispers.

She uses her magic and puts each and every one of the men to sleep. They all fall to the ground like dominoes, and you know you’ll have even less time to get her on that helicopter.

“Yeah, that works,” you nod. “Come on.” You run with Wanda to the helicopter and practically shove her inside. “Keep your head down and don’t let Tony see you.”

“Wait, what about you?”

“I have to stay and make sure they don’t find you. Don’t tell me where you’re going but I’ll find you, okay?”

“No, it’s too risky. You have to come with me.”

You pull her in for a hug and run your hand down her back.

“I have to help the others. It’s what I do, remember?” You pull away but keep your hands on her. “Wanda, you deserve to be free. Now, go before Tony comes back.”

You’re about to leave when she pulls you back into her. This time, her lips plant themselves on yours. You kiss her back feverishly, not knowing when the next time you’ll be able to do this again. You pull away seconds later and run away so that Tony doesn’t spot her. He comes walking out moments later with Ross on his heels.

Wanda peeks her head out one of the windows and looks at you. You give her an encouraging nod and disappear back into the prison. You have to have faith Friday disabled the audio and video but you’re prepared for the ugly alternative.

In case Ross figured out Wanda is gone and you helped her, you have to get the others out as soon as possible. They don’t belong here. They’re heroes and it’s time people start seeing them as that.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months ago

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 29] || [Chapter 31]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: injuries + recovery Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: johnny is a filthy man :) but also we love him so is that a problem? no, it's not.

Chapter 30: Playing House

It took a while, but, Simon got healthy, and John and Kyle got their soreness’ settled enough to be able to go back to work.

Johnny, however, needed a little extra TLC. Being shot in the shoulder involved a longer period of medical leave, paired with a long while of physical therapy…

And that means that he decided to make himself your problem.

The rest of the lads left on a mission a few days after being cleared and, as such, left Johnny with you. Not because the lad is incapable of looking after himself, but more so because he, himself, decided he didn’t want to be away from you.

And so, whenever you leave for work, Johnny leaves for PT, then, goes to base for a bit, mostly doing work on things that he can feasibly do without straining his left shoulder/arm… Like doing paperwork and reports, going to the gym for cardio, crunches, and leg and hip workouts… Then he comes home to you.

He goes shopping for you, cooks you dinner, cleans after the two of you, despite your insistence that he rest… But, as it turns out, Johnny isn’t good at that.

Nonetheless, the flat is cleaner than ever before, Johnny’s drawing supplies are permanently stationed on the dining room table, next to your laptop, and some of his clothes have taken a permanent spot in your closet.

And, of course, he spends every night in your bed, spooning you from behind and hiding his face in your neck while you watch tiktoks, talk, or he regale you with the most ridiculous of puns.

In a way, it’s like Johnny MacTavish is your live-in boyfriend. Or, rather, that you’re playing house with him.

You wouldn’t say you hate it. In fact, it’s quite nice to have someone staying with you all night… Johnny is a good partner, he’s helpful and chill and provides wonderful cuddles…

Though you’ve jokingly started calling him ‘Johnny Price’, because, since he hasn’t been working for a month now, he’s let his beard grow out. And he looks like Price more often than he does not.

It’s on week three of your new routine with Johnny when you’re at work, that you get a text from him:

Johnny: guess what bonnie. Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

You definitely should’ve put on some headphones before you watched that video during work… His grunting and groaning was almost pornographic and definitely earned you a few confused/worried looks from your coworkers…

But all you could think of was how he was finally easing back into his arm/shoulder workouts, which meant he finally got cleared by his PT to do as such!

you: did you finally get cleared johnny? 🥺 Johnny: cleared at 50%. Johnny: not there yet. but soon. you: I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! 🫶🫶🫶 Johnny: thank ye bonnie you: this calls for a celebration! Johnny: i like how ye think bonnie but im not cleared yet to be able to manhandle ye 😏 you: get ur mind out of the gutter johnny price!!!!!!!! Johnny: oof not ye still calling me that! you: ur beard is looking like his what do u expect of me! 🙄 Johnny: yer right idk what i expected. Johnny: so about this celebration. you: i was thinking we go out for dinner? Johnny: are we going to dress up nice? you: i wasn’t thinking we’d go somewhere super fancy because i do not have money johnnyyyy Johnny: oh good because i dont think i can button up a shirt my shoulder is sore 😖 you: okay then! nando’s!!! 🫶 you: and i’ll give you a shoulder rub when we get home Johnny: speaking my language bonnie.

And so that’s what you did. You went home in a hurry to shower and change, and, for once, Johnny wasn’t there, having chosen to shower and change at base.

You met up in front of the Nando’s closest to your flat and you immediately chuckled at the sight of him. Sure, he had changed, but he was still very much wearing a pair of jeans, sneakers and a grey zip-up hoodie… Although you could very obviously tell he was naked beneath the hoodie.

“Mo leannan.” He murmured in an exaggeratedly polite tone as he popped the door open for you with his good arm.

“Thank you, my good sir…” You joked, which caused you both to chuckle and shake your head.

You got inside, ordered your food and, as you talked, you site adjacent to him, right on his left side, so you could gently rub his arm with your hand.

“Do you miss the lads?” You ended up asking him as you caressed his bicep and shoulder with your hand, watching him wince a bit at it, because he felt so sore from his first workout.

“A little.” Johnny admitted as he looked toward you. “Do you miss ‘em?” He returned the question. You found yourself nodding in reply.

“Having you here is wonderful though… I… quite miss you lot when you’re all gone together. Not to mention I worry sick for you.” You admitted and pressed your lips together a bit awkwardly.

“You do?” He asked you, to which you nodded. So, he continued. “Well.. I guess I understand. I imagine my mam and sisters worry about me too… As do the Kyle and the Captain’s families.” He conceded.

“That’s actually…” You found yourself trailing off as the waiter brought you your orders and you thanked him, unboxing your food so you could dig in.

“As I was saying…” You trailed off. “That’s actually an interesting point… I feel like I know very little about you and the guys’ when it comes to your personal lives… Outside of hobbies and what you do with me.” You mused as you glanced at him as he dug into his double chicken burger one-handed.

“I don’t know much about the others myself to be honest with you.” Johnny admitted as he stole one of your chips off your plate.

“Really?” You asked softly as you ate your own sandwich yourself, nodding along as he continued speaking.

“We try to keep our… ‘outside’ lives under wraps. Even being a team… what we talk about is always very superficial.” He trailed off.

“So you don’t know anything about the rest of them, nor them about you?” You cocked a brow in confusion.

“Oh, no, bonnie, I talk about myself a whole lot, I’m a blabber mouth, me.” He joked and winked at you. “But family is one of those topics that’s best kept under wraps in our line of work.” He told you as he leaned in, rubbing his thumb on the corner of your mouth to wipe it clean of peri-peri sauce. Then, he sucked his own thumb clean.

“What about me? Do I get to know about you?” You asked him playfully as you leaned forward, setting your elbow on the table as you lean in to him, eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Tell ye what, bonnie.” Johnny leaned toward you too, licking his fingers clean and then wiping them on a napkin before he set a hand on your thigh under the table. “Anything I tell ye about my family is not going to do them justice… So how about I take ye up to meet my family over the summer… And ye meet them directly? Could even take the Captain, Simon and Kyle with us.” He offered.

Your eyes widened a bit and you blinked away the surprise, staring at him like he had grown a second head.

“Meeting your family? Really? Isn’t it a bit early for that…?” You chuckled a bit sheepishly.

“Aye, maybe it is…” He trailed off. “But at this point, I’m basically livin’ wit ye and ye’ve looked after me in sickness, haven’t ye?” He joked. “And I’ve fended off yer ex… so I’ve looked after ye in health, haven’t I?”

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you shook your head. You knew he was just joking, the look in his eyes showed it… “Are you implying that we’re married, Johnny?” You teased him playfully.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off playfully, a playful smirk on his lips. “And, if we were married, not saying that we are,… I’d make sure to take ye home tonight and rearrange yer guts if ye let me, mo leannan.”

Looking away and biting your lip, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shut it…” You trailed off. “You need to rest, your shoulder’s bad still.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t use my mouth on ye… and that you can’t be on top.” He added before he grabbed another one of your chips and popped it in his mouth.

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If the video doesn't work: TUMBLR LINK

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,

@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,

@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,

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@kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 ,

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@kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust ,

@thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

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somecrappyclone · 11 months ago

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I understand the concern but osteopath or a D.O.s ARE fully licensed and trained medical professionals. To be licensed they must go through the same criteria and must meet the same standards for practicing medicine. They are given the same training as M.D.s just with the additional osteopathic medical courses. They are absolutely fine to go to for other concerns as they are trained doctors and there is no pronounced difference between DOs and MDs in their care & cost.

Periodic reminder that you should never trust a chiropractor with your body under any circumstances

#They also didn’t mention that the dude who is claimed to be the founder chiropracty above is actually the founder of osteopathy.#chiropracty has existed long before him #the reason he developed his theory of ‘if you move thing to the right spot in the body you can cure anything’#is because at the time medical doctors were feeding people arsenic. opium. mercury. etc. and most of the time made things much worse #so he went ‘I want to make things better’ and made his own theory of medicine.#and it’s DEVELOPED SINCE THEN! ITS NO LONGER THE SAME THING NOR DO PRACTICIONERS HOLD THE SAME BELIEFS #the practices of doctors and osteopathic practitioners were initially separate but are for the majority one & the same with one #who is medically able to do a massage and chiropractic help when it is genuinely necessary #it helps that osteopathic practitioners modern day unlike chiropractors they actually are taught about the potential dangers and issues that #can arise using osteopathic treatment. if you have an issue for bones #osteopathy isn’t for you. but if you have an issue with muscles tendons or nerves then they can help a lot #good part of their practice is essentially occupational therapy. using different instruments to help with movement and to ease pain #osteopaths often get a bad name but they’re medical practitioners too that are fully liscenced but the stigma against them can often be very #harmful to them as people think DOs are lesser to MDs in training.#oftentimes when people think they need to go to a chiropractor they need physical therapy.#it’s like saying that bc it was thought Chinese cupping therapy could cure every disease if you put it on the right spot #and just because that is known to be false now that it absolutely has zero value in medical practice. it draws blood from deep in the tissue #and brings it up through the muscles and it helps in a variety of treatments for various tendon muscle and nerve disorders #chiropracty is bs as said before bc it’s cheap and done by a NON LISCENCED PRACTITIONER WHO CLAIMS THEY CAN TREAT EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING #osteopathy on the other hand has a genuine place in medical practice for physical and occupational therapy #Billy talks in the tags #Billy talks about medicine

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running-on-coffee-and-anxiety · 9 months ago

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Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyphantom #danny phantom headcanon

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wooziorgans · 1 month ago

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Woozi as a doctor??? Giving massages? New gose hits hard

— physical therapist!woozi

god he’s SO HOT HELP.

warnings: reader was in a car accident. jihoon definitely violates some,,, things. moderate medical malpractice (getting dicked down during an appointment). unprotected sex. mild ass play. not medically accurate i have no idea how this shit works. DONT TRY N SEDUCE UR DOCTORS!!!

after you hydroplaned on the highway, totalling your car, your insurance (surprisingly) opted to cover your physical therapy.

and by god if you weren’t going milk that opportunity for all it was worth.

that’s how you found yourself at a holistic physical therapy clinic. the highest rated one in busan, being seen by their best doctor.

“doctor lee will see you now.” the receptionist smiled at you. the green walls of the clinic were earthy and warm. the general vibe was quite comforting and pleasant; it’s the kind of place you’d want to get better in. your knee clicks uncomfortably as you walk.

you push the door open to his office, and out of everything you could’ve expected, you didn’t expect to see a young man, barely into his thirties with his sleeves rolled up and rimless glasses sitting on his face. his grown out dark hair frames his face perfectly, and on first impression, the only thing you notice about him is how undeniably handsome he is.

“you must be my four o’clock. y/n?” his voice is low and kind, his smile wide on his face. he speaks with the regions dialect, and though you’re used to it, it makes something inside of you twist. you swallow nervously.

“yes, that’s me.” your own smile is tight.

“i’m doctor lee, but please call me jihoon. the doctor title makes me feel old. have a seat.” he gestures laughing quietly, and you take a seat in the large leather chair. he pulls up a stool to sit next to you. “from what i can see from your chart, you were in a car accident?” jihoon asks carefully.

you nod, unable to look at him. “i see. and you had some torn ligaments that healed, but now you’re having issues with mobility and have some clicking in your left hip and knee, correct?” his voice is so soft and careful, and you can immediately get the impression that he cares about his patients. that’s probably why he’s the top rated doctor in all of busan.

“yeah. uh, i definitely shouldn’t be in this much pain after two months so i went to my doctor and he referred me here.” you laugh nervously. jihoon smiles at you reassuringly.

“well, how about i get you to stand up for me so i can do an assessment and i’ll see what i can do for you?” you nod, standing, and jihoon starts to scan over your body. he immediately starts to take you in, eyes analyzing your lower half. “is it okay if i touch you? just to see your hip alignment?” he asks, crouching down to the ground.

“yeah.” the doctors hands find your hips soon after. he squeezes and pokes, asks repeatedly if the pressure of his touch hurts you at all. his hands move down the side of your legs to your knees where he does the same thing

“from what i can see, your hip alignment is off. same with your knee. it would be a relatively easy fix, but because of your torn ligaments we have to be more careful. i think the best plan of action is to go over some exercises for you to do at home and then we’ll go over what needs to be done when you’re here.” the doctor sits back down on his stool as he gestures for you to take a seat again.

jihoon jumps right into it, directing you in various exercises to help with your mobility. he talks to you the whole time, asking about your accident, what you do for work, if you’ve lived in busan your whole life. you answer him earnestly, still a little shy because of the situation your in.

you never were fond of doctors, and jihoon seems to pick up on that as he keeps the conversation light and comfortable. he moved you to a big table, and has you lay down so he can work on your hip.

“this might hurt. i’m sorry in advance. it should just be a lot of pressure.” his hands press lightly against your hip at first as he lets you adjust to the pressure. then his whole body weight comes down in the same spot, and you yelp loudly, biting your lip as you try not to swear.

he chuckles softly, body still leaning over you so his voice is right in your ear. “don’t worry, this room is sound proof.” you laugh through the pain, but the relief feels almost immediate. your hip isn’t as stiff.

jihoon continues working on you until the end of your session, and when you stand you feel a little lighter. he smiles at you, wishing you well for the week.

and so your first session ends with doctor lee, and you leave his office with a stack of papers and another appointment booked for next week.

session after session with jihoon, your body starts to return to how it was before your accident.

the appointments are comfortable, and after six months, you’re able to joke around with your doctor. maybe it’s because he’s quite young, and you’re young, that his conversation begins to feel natural.

it feels like you’re almost friends, meeting up once a week to hang out while he abuses you in ways that have you cursing and calling him colourful names. he always laughs it off, knows not to take anything you say too personally.

jihoon is a good doctor, but him being hot is posing quite the issue. you can’t help but stare at his exposed forearms when you enter his office. jihoon pretends not to notice, but over the few months he’s been working on you, he can’t help how interesting he finds you. and beautiful.

he thinks you’re beautiful too.

“you’re doing a lot better, y/n.” jihoon smiles at you, and you smile back, feeling the change in your body. you flex your knee as if to test his words, and the bones don’t grind uncomfortably. “honestly, i think we only have about a month left of sessions together. and then you’ll be free of me.” you roll your eyes at him.

“oh no. whatever will i do?” you jest. he laughs.

“don’t go and get yourself injured again just to spend time with me.” he flicks through your chart. “is your back pain getting any better? i thought i was from your hip but it might be something else.” his eyebrows are furrowed, glasses slipping down his nose as he scans over the sheets of paper attached to his clip board.

“it’s migrated lower. i think it’s my tail bone but i don’t know.” you offer. he’s the doctor, but you know your body. jihoon told you that a few sessions in; that your opinion mattered to the direction of your treatment.

“you mind if i check? if that’s the case it’ll be a quick adjustment. it’s possible it got jacked up when you messed up your hip.” he’s teasing you, about to call you old, which is almost ironic considering he’s in his thirties, and you’re not. you just shake your head at him, climbing up onto the table you’ve grown so familiar with.

jihoon presses lightly at the bottom of your spine, carefully pushing your hoodie up to directly feel the contour of your bones. he sighs. “i’m gonna have to move your sweats out of that way to check your tailbone. the fabrics too thick for me to really feel it. this okay?” you feel his fingers hook under the band of your sweats and you nod, humming softly as you push away any and all unholy thoughts you’re having right now.

jihoon pulls both your sweatpants and underwear down, to the middle of your ass. the elastic band keeps them down as two of his fingers trail lower down your back. you shiver, and jihoon does a good job at ignoring it as his fingers dip in between your ass cheeks. he presses down on the tip of your tailbone and you flinch.

“oh, yeah. that’s not supposed to feel like that.” he sighs, gently rubbing over the bone with his fingers. “it’s sticking out too much. i think you dislocated it.”

“y-you can dislocate a tailbone?” you stutter. his fingers are far too low for comfort.

“yes. you said you fell when you were doing your knee exercises. that’s probably how.” jihoon’s fingers graze over the bone carefully, and you shiver again. this causes his fingers to slide further down, tips brushing over the tight muscle of your asshole.

both you and jihoon freeze. he doesn’t know what to do so he removes his hand and says nothing. he cracks his fingers softly. “adjustment time.” he speaks lowly as he places his hand flat on your ass. one of his knees finds itself between your legs as he braces himself to make the adjustment.

its procedure. he’s done this dozens of times before, but something feels different this time. jihoon’s knee presses against the bottom of your ass, dangerously close to your core as he presses down.

the initial adjustment makes you yelp in pain before you laugh it off. “good. one more.” he praises, and if he doesn’t stop talking in that low tone you’re going to end up soaking this table.

the second adjustment rocks your hips into the table, moving your whole body up and then back down. he accidentally grinds you against his knee, and the table, and the sound you make this time is strained and breathy. an involuntary moan falls from your lips as you close your eyes. jihoon freezes again. “y/n? what was that?” he asks carefully. he knows what it was.

“i- uh, i didn’t mean to- fuck.” your voice is suddenly whiny, and that’s when it fully clicks.

“oh.” jihoon briefly removes his hands from your ass, before he palms one of your cheeks. “i see.” he squeezes carefully. you arch into his touch, and though you can’t see him, he smirks.

“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to react like that. it’s just—” jihoon’s other hand finds your other cheek as he pulls your sweats down a little further.

you’re still trying to defend yourself, maintain professional integrity for him, even though you’ve been painfully obvious in the way you stare at him and check him out. “please forgive me if i’ve read into this wrong, but i’m under the impression that you’re into me. is that correct?” jihoon leans down, right next to your ear as he speaks. his breath hits your neck and you shiver. you nod. “good, because it’s been absolute torture having to work on your hips with this ass on display for me every single week.” he rubs your ass with both hands, leaning down further to kiss your neck softly.

you whine, leaning into his touch. his lips are soft against your neck as he pecks at it lightly. “jihoon,” you whine softly, hands gripping at nothing.

“do you want this?” he pulls away from your neck to ask you. you whine out a yes, and jihoon flips you over onto your back in one quick motion.

you gasp at the sheer strength of him. it’s not entirely shocking, not when you’ve seen his forearms out at every single appointment. but he’s far stronger than you expected. jihoon slides off the table, towering over you. you lean up, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him down to kiss you.

the kiss is electric, full of tongue and spit as all the weeks of checking each other out come to a head. you tug at the belt loops on his slacks, hands sliding over his leather belt. jihoon chuckles against your lips, pulling you to sit up before he unfastens his belt.

jihoon slides himself in between your legs, thigh pressing against your core as you grind against him. he pulls his belt free from his pants, popping the button on his pressed slacks as he continues to lick into your mouth. you whine against his lips and he chuckles softly, undoing his zipper. he pushes his pants down to his ankles, not bothering to step out of them as he manhandles you back into the padded table.

“lay back for me, baby.” he purrs, lips leaving yours to find your neck again. you do as he says, resting your weight on your elbows so you can get a better look at him. with strong hands, his lifts your legs up, grabbing the band of your sweats which had slipped further down your ass with all the movement. he pulls them down to your knees, pushing your thighs apart as he watches the way your pussy seems to throb in the cool air of his office.

jihoon swears under his breath as he licks his fingers to run them over your folds. you whine, eyes closing and jihoon tuts. “look at me.” you do as he says, watching him as he pushes two fingers inside of you. “so fucking wet for me.” he curses as your body pulls his fingers inside with ease.

he fuck you with two digits, watching your reactions carefully, drinking in every single moan and whine you try to silence. as much as he’d love to make you cum on his fingers, your time is quite constrained with your hour appointment, so he pulls them out, sticking them in his own mouth to lick them clean.

jihoon moans around his fingers, using his other hand to pull his boxers down and give his cock a few lazy strokes. your knees block the view, so you look to the side to see him touching himself. his cock is large and thick in his hand, and your mouth waters at the sight of it.

jihoon smirks, stepping forward a few steps to rub his tip through your folds. you whine, breathy pants the only sound you’re capable of making. “god, just fuck me. please.” you plead, and jihoon smirks again but listens to you.

jihoon lines himself up and pushes his tip in. the stretch burns, so he gives you a few moments to adjust. “so fucking big, my god.” you hiss, lip between your teeth as you adjust to the stretch of him. when you give him a silent nod to go ahead and move, he pushes in further, sheathing his cock in your warm walls.

jihoon hisses, eyes fluttering shut. he pushes his glasses back up on his face, hand anchoring down on the back of your thigh as he slides back out. his face is flushed as he pants. you’re so warm and wet; he won’t last long. “you’re so tight, baby. fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” he pants, thrusting back into you.

he sets a fast pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing through out his office. you’re barely there; hardly coherent as his thick cock drags against your walls, his tip brushing against your spot with each thrust.

jihoon’s thumb flattens down on your clit, and it’s too much. you pull him back down for a kiss, which he returns eagerly, as your walls tighten around him. you moan into his mouth, hand finding his hair to pull him in closer. his thumb rubs circles over the swollen nerve and you shudder as a long moan leaves your lips.

you cum around his cock, the added wetness help him slide into you to fuck you through your orgasm. you tighten around him impossibly more, and that sends jihoon over the edge.

his hips stutter as he cums inside of you. he pants against your mouth, sighing contentedly as he comes down with you. his cock slips out of you once the final drop is milked from his cock, and he plants a delicate kiss to your forehead.

jihoon’s quick to pull his boxers and slacks back up as you catch your breath. he massages your thigh carefully, watching the way his cum slowly leaks out of you and drips onto the padded table. “c’mon baby. let me help you get your pants back up.” your sweats are still at your knees, and you comply, lifting you hips for him to pull them back over your ass. you sigh, unable to look at him.

jihoon leaves you to go to his desk, pulling out a business card and a pen as he writes something down on it. “we’re almost out of time for today, but call me before our next appointment. i’d like to take you to dinner.” he presents the card to you with two fingers, and you take it hesitantly before you nod and get off the table. “i’m serious. it’ll be a date. if you want.” your lack of response seems to have jihoon on edge.

you smile softly at his sudden nerves. “i’d like that. thank you.” you grab your bag and head out of his office without turning back. you don’t see jihoon punch the air in victory.

“well. looks like our time here is up. you’ve been a lovely patient.” jihoon smiles, clip board in hand.

“it’s been a pleasure, doctor lee.” you smirk, finger trailing over his collar bone through his shirt.

“oh, don’t you start.” he scoffs, but he’s smiling at you fondly, cheeks on full display as his eyes crinkle.

“we’re still on for dinner at seven, right?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“of course, love. i’ll pick you up. i was thinking about a movie and maybe a back massage at my place after? if you’re okay with that.” jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

“you know i’m always down for a back massage from you.” you peck his cheek.

“i swear you just use me for my physical therapy perks.” he rolls his eyes at you fondly.

“maybe i do.” your boyfriend laughs before he kisses you softly.

189 notes · View notes

ghoulishlygrey · 28 days ago

Text

Dancing With Death

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Josh Washington x Fem!reader

Warning: Explicit Content, MDNI

Read it on ao3

Enjoy!

Word count: 4772

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You brought your hand up to knock at the large door of the Washington Lodge, you pulled your parka a little closer, waiting for any sign of life to let you into the warmth of the multimillion dollar home. It had been a year since Beth and Hannah’s mysterious disappearance, a tragedy in your eyes. You weren’t a part of the prank, you were passed out drunk with Chris and Josh when it all went down. You only heard about the prank afterwards when police were called and you finally sobered up. Josh was obviously shaken up about the whole thing, to say the least. You’d barely heard from him throughout the year and he distanced himself from the friend group, which you couldn’t blame him for. You were surprised to hear from him, even more surprised to learn he wanted all of you to come back to Washington Lodge in memory of the sisters.

Although it felt… weird, you felt morally obliged to come back and support Josh, which totally had nothing to do with your feelings for him. Not at all… okay, maybe a little. But, he probably didn’t feel the same. Which was fine, you could be the good friend to him that he needed right now. You hoped that after his time away he’d come back to the friend group, come to the parties and back into your life. Maybe it was a little selfish, but you wanted to see him for the sake of your feelings for him which really hadn’t dwindled in his absence. You worried for him, last you heard he was in therapy and taking medications for his depression and other mental health issues. As childish as it sounded, you wished you were able to take away his pain, or at least ease it. It hurt to see someone you cared about in pain.

Your mind wanders back to the night of the incident, things would’ve been different if Josh, you and Chris had been awake and aware of the pranks plans. Josh for sure wouldn’t have stood for it, you know you would’ve tried to stop it. After all, Hannah was one of your closest friends. You yourself found it hard to return to the friend group after the whole thing, harboring blame for everyone involved. Well, everyone except Sam who was your other closest friend. You know she tried to stop it afterwards when you had a chance to talk to her, she was just too late.

Your thinking is cut short by the sound of the door unlocking and creaking open. Your gaze follows the sound and lands on Josh as he stands in the doorway, a toothy grin plastered on his face. He says your name in a friendly and welcoming manner before pulling you into a bear hug.

“Oof!” you collide with his chest before wrapping your arms around him in return.

“Good to see you too, Josh.” Your hands slide back from his flannel as he lets you go and a gust of frigid wind bites at your nose and cheeks.

“Can I come in?” You ask, pointing to the fireplace. There was nobody else in the room but yet you had a feeling you were the last one to show up, as per usual.

“Oh yeah, sure sure. Come on in.” He steps aside, and allows you to come into the lodge before closing the door behind you, shutting out the cold. You drag in your luggage and set it in the foyer and then you make your way over to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together and holding them to the flame. Your fingers were freezing as you opted to wear fingerless gloves, perhaps an oversight on your end but you were inside now, so all was well.

“Can I, uh, take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the coat rack where his vest was also hanging, his beanie dangling from the pocket.

“Sure,” You slip your arms from your parka before handing it over to Josh who takes it and hangs it from the coat rack. You’re now left in your black cardigan and jeans. “Thank you.”

“No problemo.” He smiles at you and makes finger guns, you shoot him back and he chuckles.

“Where’s everyone else?” You ask, looking around.

“Jess and Mike are on their way to the guest cabin, Emily and Matt are retrieving her bag from the cable car station, Sam is taking a bath and Chris just went to lay down.” He lists off, counting on his fingers.

“Left you all alone, did they?” You tease, watching as he makes his way over to you to warm his own hands.

“I’m wounded by their absence.” He pretends to stab his heart and acts wounded, you laugh at his theatrics.

“So dramatic.” You say, rolling your eyes in a silly manner. He scoffs, looking over at you.

“You’ve always been the dramatic one.” He claims, elbowing your side and causing you to squeal and fold in on yourself.

“Stooop!” You dodge away, running to get behind the couch and away from the prying elbow. “Behave.” You warn, smile betraying you.

“When have I ever not behaved?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. Now it was your turn to scoff.

“Oh, you want the list or the summary?” You ask, climbing over the back of the couch to bet comfy on the cushions. He watches you with something unknown in his eye, a foreign twinkle.

“What?” You ask, kicking off your boots before bringing your knees to your chest.

“Care for a drink, madam?” He disappears to the liquor cabinet before reemerging with a handle of vodka. The last time you had gotten drunk in this lodge, things didn't end well. But, a few sips couldn’t hurt, maybe it’d help you get warm. You also hoped Josh hadn’t turned to alcohol in his time of grief, but if some company was what he needed, you were happy to oblige.

“Oooo, are we Russian now?” You gesture to the vodka as he comes to sit down next to you, he turns the bottle in his hand. It was nice vodka, probably very expensive but you understood that the Washington family could definitely afford for you and Josh to take a few sips from off the top.

“Da.” He says in his best Russian accent before unscrewing the lid and offering you first drink. You take the bottle by the neck and take a sip off the top and when you look back to Josh to offer up the bottle, he’s looking at you in disbelief.

“What?” You ask, blushing under the weight of his gaze.

“That’s all you’re gonna drink? Where’s the black-out, shit-faced, party girl I know?” He smiles his signature grin at you before taking the bottle and taking a hearty drink. He grimaces against the alcohol taste before setting the bottle on the nearby table.

“She’s retired. Focusing on her studies.” You say, a teasing tone lacing your voice. You and Josh were both in college at the time of the disappearances but Josh understandably dropped out of his studies. You, on the other hand, were still up at the local college pursuing your degree.

“Hey,” You start, your teasing tone turning into one of concern, “Should you be drinking with the meds you’re taking?” You tried your best to sound sincere, because you were. You didn’t want him hurting himself or anything just to have a drink with you.

“I’m fine.” He says, face immediately dropping. You move to put a hand over his and he looks at the contact then back at your face.

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” You practically whisper, thumb caressing over his knuckles.

“I uh…” He starts, gaze not leaving yours, “I stopped taking them.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, searching his features for the answer before he can say it. You don’t find anything.

“Good… I think.” He says after a moment, his eyes shift from yours and to the side, like he was thinking of something. You retreat your hand and lean back, your legs draping over his lap. He immediately shifts and welcomes your incursion, hands beginning to fiddle with the hem of your pants. This was nice, your relationship was basically the same as it had been a year ago, even though you’d barely seen each other since.

“I’m just glad you’re doing better.” You express honestly. All you wanted was for Josh to be okay, even though you knew the pain of losing his sisters would never go away. Hearing that he was off his meds just left you confused on how to feel. Was he off them because he was doing better? Or were they not working, or worse yet, was he giving up on them?

“Thanks for coming back, I know it probably wasn’t easy.” He says, a rare sincerity showing itself. Usually Josh was a pretty goofy guy, witty and sarcastic and all around a good sense of humor. Seeing him now, timid and honest, was something you’d seen before, but not often.

“Of course. Anything for you.” You smile as he rests his arms on your shins and studies your face.

“Careful, you’re giving me a lot of power there.” He grins, returning to his goofy self.

“Well, maybe not anything.” You trail off, a smile plastered across your face.

“Well then, I command thee to drinketh upon thine vodka.” He reaches to grab the bottle from the table and hands it to you while committing to his false accent.

“Well, if you command it, I suppose I have no choice.” You take the bottle and take a meaningful gulp of the clear liquid, clearly making a face against the taste as Josh laughs at you.

“Wow, you really have lost your touch.” He says, chuckling.

“Oh whatever, sorry I’m not used to your ridiculously expensive vodka.” You dismiss, passing back the bottle and watching him take his turn.

The two of you continue like that for a while, just passing the bottle between you both and getting closer and closer, and louder and louder. Soon enough you’ve got him trapped in a hearty laugh, you’re gripping your sides from cackling and tears are springing from the corners of your eyes. You bring a finger to dab at your eyes, not trying to mess up your mascara. But then, you fall into silence and your gaze slowly makes its way over to Josh, who is already looking at you, lips parted as his tongue dashes out to wet them.

“What?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Are you still willing to do anything for me?” He asks, rather seriously.

“Within reason.” You try to make light of the serious tone overcoming the space around you and it seems to work, Josh’s lips twitch into a smile momentarily before he’s pulling on your legs, chugging you towards him.

“Well then, come here.”

“Josh!-” You squeal as you slide across the couch. Your heart was racing, what did he want? What was he going to do? You’ve had feelings for him for so long, could it be possible he felt the same way?

In a moment your knees are bent over his lap, your body much closer to his as he turns to look at you.

“Would it be within reason to ask to kiss you?”

Your stomach does a backflip and your mouth goes dry. Was he serious? You’d had a crush on this man for years, ever since Hannah had brought you into the friend group in high school. She was younger than you, but you both found yourself in the same chemistry class where you became fast friends. Josh was always the forbidden fruit, someone who you wanted but could never have. Not because you thought Hannah would disapprove, no, in fact she actually knew about your crush, but it was forbidden because you never thought he’d want you too. You always thought he wanted Sam, which you couldn’t blame him for. She was beautiful. But here you were, legs draped across his lap, bodies merely inches apart and he was asking to kiss you.

“Are you being serious?” You ask, “Josh, I’ve wanted to kiss you since senior year.”

“I guess we have some time to make up for then.” He says, hand skating up your arm and tangling in your hair as he brings your face to his and connects your lips. You melt into the touch as he tilts his head to get even closer, his free hand coming to rest on the bent knee positioned over his lap.

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips meld to yours. The kiss starts out slow, just a sweet connection of your lips gradually moving against each other. But soon enough you feel his tongue at the seam of your mouth, so you open and take him greedily, your hands coming to rest on his neck and on the side of his face. Your thumb swipes across his cheek as his hand pulls on your knee, pulling on it gently.

“Come here.” He grunts against you as he guides you into his lap, straddling him. Your tongue meets his as he enters your mouth again and you moan into the contact, hands moving from his face to run through his hair, his own hands go to your ass, holding you against him as your lips engage in a dance for dominance.

He parts from you to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw before arriving at your neck where he tenderly nips at the sensitive flesh. You roll your head back and allow him access and when he bites down only to lick over it and play nice, you let out a sweet moan. He nuzzles into your shoulder and your arms go around his shoulders, embracing him. You could feel yourself getting wet from the kissing alone.

“Keep making noises like that and I won’t be able to contain myself.” He grunts into your hair and you push him back just a little, just enough to have him look at your face.

“I don’t want you to contain yourself.” You say honestly, you were putting it all out in the open. How many times had you raked your own hands down your body imagining they were his? You were ready for this, hell, you yearned for it. Yearned for him.

“Yeah?” He asks, searching your eyes.

“Yeah.” You confirm, a low tremor in your voice from the sheer excitement and want.

“Get up and follow me.” He says, you obey, sliding off his lap and allowing him to get up. He turns back to you, holding out a hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you up the stairs, around the corner and into his old room. You pause for a second as he closes the door behind you and you take the time to look around the room. It was identical to the last time you’d seen it, when you would sit on the floor with him and Chris and play videogames on the flatscreen across the room. The only thing that was different was the dust covering the shelves and end tables, it was clear the Washingtons hadn’t been here all year. You didn’t blame them.

“Looks the same.” You observe as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, observing the dark room with you.

“Haven’t really touched it since…” He lingers but doesn’t finish.

“But the, uh, bed is clean. Washed all the bedding before everyone got here.” He purrs in your ear, hands going from around your middle and to your hips. You turn in his grasp, his hands just slide along your body as you do until they’re planted on your hips again.

“Better get to it then.” You say lowly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. That appears to be all the invitation he needs, dipping his head to connect your lips once more. He gently pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress. You help him in ripping off your cardigan, discarding it somewhere across the room. Next to go was your spaghetti-strap tank top, leaving you in your bra and jeans. He leans back to admire you, hands sliding up your waist and to your breasts. He cups them gently, squeezing you like you were delicate glass. You grab at his flannel and begin to chug it down his shoulders, he assists you before letting it fall to the ground. His shirt joins the pile soon and now it was your time to admire him. You lean back in to lavish his neck in kisses and licks and move down to his shoulder, biting gently as his hands run up and down your back and he hums lowly in his throat. His hand hitches when it hits your bra strap and he expertly unhooks it, leaving it hanging around your shoulders. You pull back to shuck it from your body. He shamelessly stares, bringing his hand back to them once again and testing the weight of you in his hands. His gaze flicks back up to yours.

“Lay down.” He invites, watching you as you take it and flop down onto the mattress, propping yourself on your elbows as you meet his gaze. He bends over you, unbuttoning your jeans before hooking fingers around your belt loops and beginning to tug your pants down your legs. You assist by lifting your ass off the bed as he gets them past your thighs, to your shins and then off completely. He then works at his own pants before pulling them off, leaving him in his boxers.

He looked so good, your mouth watered for him. You wanted to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, anything to make him feel good. You sit up before standing completely. He looks at you confused but when you sink to your knees in front of him, it seems to click.

“Can’t say no to that.” He chuckles, watching as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You slowly bring them down, revealing the last bit of his happy trail, top of the pelvis until finally his cock springs free, half-hard. You peer up at him, a little smile tugging at your lips as you lick your hand and begin to pump him slowly. He groans as you stroke him, head tilting backwards and eyes fluttering closed, which you thought was funny considering you hadn’t even taken him into your mouth yet.

But then you finally do, starting at the tip, you swallow him down as much as you can before wrapping your hand around the part you cannot. Then, you start to slowly come off him, lips and tongue running over every ridge and vein until you reach the very tip again and repeat the process. If you could bottle the noises he made while you worked him over, you would and keep it forever. His grunts and groans were everything you’d ever wanted to hear since you’d met him. All those nights fantasizing was nothing compared to the real thing. His hand comes to the back of your head, not to push you or hurry you along, but just to feel you as you slide back and forth. You fight back a gag as he hits the back of your throat, hot tears spring from your eyes but it’s worth it just to make him feel good. You mourn for your mascara but this was about him, so makeup be damned.

“God, you're good at that.” He moans before pulling out of your mouth with a pop. You look up at him, drool covering your chin as you bring a hand to wipe it up.

“And as much as I’d like to paint your pretty face, I wanna feel what it’s like to be inside you.”

You nod and he helps you stand before escorting you to the bed, you lay down, pulling off your remaining panties and throwing them across the room. You’d have to go on a scavenger hunt to find all of your belongings later but that wasn’t a problem for now.

You peer over at him when you hear a rummaging sound and he’s pawing through his bedside drawer.

“Condom?” You ask, resting your head on your bent arm as you watch.

“I swear there’s one in here.” He says, frustrated.

“Aha!” He pulls out a foil wrapped condom before tearing open the packaging with his teeth. He pulls it out, rolling it onto his erect member before using two fingers to beckon you over.

“Come to the edge of the bed.” He says, voice like honey. You shake your head though, you’d wanted to ride him for a while now and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“I want to ride you.” You say, scooting over and patting the space beside you.

“Come get comfy.” You purr, flipping over so your ass was on display. It seems to work as you watch his adam's apple bob before he’s climbing into bed and settling in amongst the pillows.

“I could never say no to you.” He smiles at the ceiling before turning his attention to you.

“I’m going to remember you said that.” You say, climbing over him. He immediately goes for your tits, grasping them in both hands before running his thumbs over your perked nipples. You moan as he does, the attention sending energy straight down to your core. You look back down at him to see him biting his lip as he watches his hands play with the soft flesh.

“Like what you see?” You ask, your hands slotting over his against your chest.

“Always have.” He admits, eyes finally finding yours as you peer down at him from your perched position. You tilt your head, trying to find the answer in his eyes before you even asked the question.

“Really?”

He drops his hands to your thighs and sighs.

“Well duh. Have you seen you?” He squeezes your thighs gently. “You’re like super hot.”

You laugh, taking a hand to cup the side of his face.

“Wish you told me that when we were seniors.” You say, he turns to kiss your wrist.

“Live and learn.” He chuckles before tapping your thigh. “Now, are you gonna do what you came here for?”

You look behind you, he’s still angrily erect, a bead of precum drips from the tip.

“That looks painful.” You coo, scooting backwards, “Let me fix that for you.”

“Thank God.” He sighs to the ceiling, you just laugh again before taking him in your hand and running his cock through your folds, slicking him in your juices. You were ready for him, had been since he kissed you, even more when he groped you so shamelessly.

Once he was well and truly slicked, you align him with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him. You cry out as you take him inch by inch, he lets out a guttural moan when you finally hit the base, stretching you out.

“Shit, you’re tight.” He grits through his teeth, hands coming to hold your waist in support.

He sits up and ducks his head to lavish your nipple in attention, sucking gently before licking over with his hot tongue. You sigh at the sensation, nails raking over his back as you begin to move up slowly, rising on your knees. He felt so good, like he was made for you. The burning sensation had already subsided and all there was now was sweet pleasure. You wondered what your relationship would be like after this, were you going to go on actual dates now, be fuck buddies? You knew your feelings were too strong for him to be anything casual, your heart would break at the prospect of this being a one time thing. But it all depended on what he wanted, what he thought of you. He admitted he had thought you were attractive to him since you’d met but is that all he felt? Lust?

He moves to kiss your shoulder, nipping at the skin there as you sink back down. He could be so tender, you’ve learned in your time with him tonight, so caring. It again made you question his intentions, how could someone who was so loving want just to fuck you? He brings his head up to kiss you again, swallowing down your moans as you sink back down, more quickly this time, harder. Soon enough you’ve got a pace down and he’s snapping his hips up to meet you in the middle, creating a delicious friction that has you hurtling towards an orgasm at lightning speed. You can see it on the horizon, steadily approaching.

You separate your tangled tongues to warn him of your upcoming release.

“Josh,” You pant as he snaps his hips up once more, you pause to let out a moan, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“By all means,” He quips, letting out another grunt as you meet his pelvis.

With another thrust, you’re there, cumming as you cry out his name. Your walls flutter around him and it’s enough to have him flustered.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna-” But he doesn’t finish before he fills the condom with his seed, letting out a long moan that makes you clench around him. You loved the sounds he made throughout this whole experience, loved the way he touched you, the way he fucked you, you loved… him.

After he is finished, you slide from him, settling in amongst the sheets next to him. He pulls off the condom before tying it off, tossing it into the trash can beside the bed. After, he pulls you onto his chest and wraps an arm around you, fingers running up and down your spine. You rest a hand on his stomach, eyes fluttering shut after the effort you put into making love to him. He kisses your temple before checking the time on the alarm clock on the side table.

“Shit.” He mutters. You peek your eyes open.

“What?” You ask, heart dropping for some reason, like you could’ve caused the sudden change of mood.

“I’ve gotta do something.” He says, unwrapping from you and finding his clothes. You follow in suit, finding your panties before sliding them up your legs. Before long you’re both dressed. He catches your hand and pulls you into an embrace.

“Listen…” He says, pulling away. You dread the look on his face, like he was fighting something internally.

“What? Is something wrong?” You ask quietly, almost afraid of the question.

“I know I invited you here.” He starts, for some reason he looks… guilty?

“But you need to leave.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach… what?

“What?” You ask, voice harboring a little quiver.

“Shit’s about to go down and I don’t want you near it.” He says, honestly. But, what did that mean? What shit was about to go down?

“What do you mean?” You ask, completely lost.

“I need you to trust me.” He grabs your shoulders and gives you a look. A look that strikes you as the most serious you’d ever seen him. You have no choice but to trust him, to do as he asked. You still had a million questions but his stare silences you.

“I do.” Is what you settle on and he kisses your forehead at the acceptance.

“Great.” He lets you go before making his way to the door and opening it for you, you walk through and he follows closely as you make your way down the stairs and to the door. You were sore, still feeling him between your legs. Normally, it’d be something that made you blush but you were feeling too confused, too puzzled to think of anything else as you pull on your parka and grab your suitcase. You turn to say something but he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. You return in, eyes closing and hands going to his waist before you both pull apart.

“I promise everything will make sense by dawn.” He says, letting you go and opening the large front door. You just nod, what else could you do?

So, you left, stepping into the cold night and soon enough you’re in the cable car, slowly making your way down the mountain. A million questions swarmed your head but those would have to wait… until dawn. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── A note: Hope you enjoyed that! Had to change a few things for the plot to work but nonetheless hope it was fun to read! ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── Taglist (comment to be on it)

@sprite-real

#josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x you #until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #josh washington fanfic #until dawn josh

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icarusredwings · 2 months ago

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Thinking about how Charles failed to help Wade and literally went brain dead because of how much chaos is going on in there, one of if not the strongest brains, completely destroyed by how much shit is in there but... There's no charles in Finding Home Au because this universes Charles went out with Logan.

But what if Jean gave him a crack? Jean likes a good challenge and Wade cant keep a therapist to save his life. And Jean owes Logan one sooo....

Why not?

"A-are you sure? Jean you can't-" he glances over to wade across the room. "You can't go in there."

"Ive been in yours."

Logan scoffs. "You think MY head is messy? You don't understand, I've seen his phyc evaluations. One of the testers is in a phycward right now." He whispers through grit teeth, not wanting to bad mouth his husband but...it was the truth. It was a shit show in there. But it was Wade's show none the less.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. I won't."

With a quick twitch of his nose, Logan glares. "You're lying."

"Yeah. Well what are you going to do about it? Hey Wade? Can you come with me for a second?"

Logan swallows as he watches him jog over, eager to help in what ever way he can. He bit his tounge with his canines. Where's Kurt? He needs a prayer done. For the both of them. In all honesty he wasn't sure which one needed it more.

Within 15 minutes, As logans pacing the hall infront of her door, She happily opens it up.

"Sooooo one.. You are so right. It's a mess in there."

"I told you not to look, red!!"

"It was just a peak! Anyway- I rearranged a few things anndd Tada!"

Rushing into the room, he's worried of what she's done to him. He expected smoothbob from that one episode when SpongeBob lost his personality and became boring, but instead, Sitting on the edge of her bed, there he was.

Tears were running down his face as he played with a rubrix cube, the cube wet from tears as he stared off into space, thick black headphones over his ears. His eyes flickered back and forth, his hands busy.

"..Wade?? Jean!" He scolds her, worried.

Giggling a bit, She pats his shoulder. "Oohh calm down tiger. He's fine. He's just.... Silent."

He glares. "What are you ta-"

"Bilateral 8th dimention audio stimulation." She smiles. "Aka- Science!"

"Why is he crying? Does it hurt?"

"No, not at all. I told you, It's silent."

"You..."

"Mhm."

"I-.. How did you get rid of them? We've tried so much medication! Nothing works because of his healing factor. You're telling me this whole time he just needed music therapy?"

"Welllll and for me to plug a few serotonin receptors, but yeah. Practically the same thing.. besides.. I didn't get rid of them. They're just quiet... for now."

Logans' smile fades. "Oh.."

"But hey, At least we found something, right? So if it gets too bad, you can always shut him-"

Logans brow raised.

"Them- Up. Just for a song or two." She mutters, glancing to her phone. "He's in the middle of Pentatonix right now. If you bring him by every week or so, I can maybe dig through that trash heap and patch up some more chemical imbalances." She mutters, putting a hand to her chin. "Not sure if it would stay though, so if his head gets chopped off or something, I'll have to do it all over agai-"

Before she could finish, Logan interrupted. "So he's... relieved?"

"Yes." She smiles.

"Without pain??"

"The most I could spare."

He hugs her tight. "Thanks, Jeanie! You're amazing!!" She blushes, having not been hugged by Logan since.. well.. since before he died. It was awkward, but.. warmer. Then she remembered.

When he pulls away, she watches he rushes over, sitting next to him, but Wade doesn't respond. He glances back. "What did you tell him by the way?"

"Oh, yeah hold on." Right as this song ended, She turned off the headphones, making him blink and look up, confused. Wiping his tears he glanced at the unfinished cube and then to Logan as if he wasn't even aware he was there.

"I-... Why am I crying? Uhm.. I didn't finish it.. It's still... messed up." He says as slowly the noise in his head starts again.

"Oh, that's alright. You can finish it next time. You did very well for your first time." She tells him, giving him that motherly smile, the large belly just adding to the feeling of praise.

"Oh.. uhm.." he swallows, smiling awkwardly. "Okay. Do.. do you need help with anything else?"

She thinks for a second. "I mean.. it would be really nice if you tied my shoes. I uhm... I can't reach. For obvious reasons."

"Because you're a planet?"

"Pregnant!" She snaps. "T-there's a difference.. but yes."

It's Logan who ties her shoes, Wade handing back her unsolved cube, unaware of what had just happened. He had an idea, but he wasn't 100% sure. For all he knew and how she praised him, they could have totally just done an epic sex thing, and he didn't remember what so ever.

Taking Logan's arm he felt... relaxed. Still baffled but they weren't as loud anymore. Talking in his head instead of screaming bloody murder (which some were demanding). "That was... weird. Did I just get mind fucked? GASSPP Loagie you let her mind fuck me!?"

"Eehh kind of. Come on bub. We going headphone shopping."

"Oooh I must have done really well then if Im getting treats!"

Standing at the door, She smiles as they leave. Seeing such a big toothy grin on the both of them was so different. And yet? It felt good. Nice to see him so happy. So deeply devote to someone... and.. if she wasn't mistaken.. she had seen a thought or two of discount engagement rings in that messy little head of his, though just looking for a split second, a glimpse, gave her a massive headache...

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rebtr1bution · 29 days ago

Text

"little" rant

thinking about how much potential dylan (klebold) had genuinely pisses me off. i can't read his diary anymore without wanting to punch my monitor in.

dylan wasn't cruel - at the end of his life he was, he took innocent lives and created a tragedy that even today people cannot get over nor understand fully, but that wasn't who he was. this was the same boy who took over his friends (erics) shift at work when his dog was sick and wanted to spend time with him, this was the boy who cried when one of his cats got loose due to fearing that the cat would die, this was the boy who struggled with depression, and ultimately the depression took his life. while some people may argue that, to do what dylan did, you have to be cruel, i don't agree. not in the slightest. i think to do what dylan did, you have to be battling mental illnesses that go unchecked because being a man in the 90s meant to be strong. to not let your emotions best you, and when you got bullied you were to put your head down and continue on. people nowadays have normalized speaking out about your mental health, to get help, and this is great! but also, it makes looking back on tragedies such as this hard, because our first question would be: "well, why didn't they just get help?" while they could've, 90s culture was still very much shameful of mental health, especially in men. it's still a problem to this day. and, actually, eric had gotten help - he had seen a therapist and had gotten perscribed Luvox to help. but it didn't work. infact, this medication is now known to increase suicidal/homicidal thoughts and increase depression. back onto my point, dylan wasn't "the monster next door", he was a kid struggling with mental health. he was a kid who was horrendously shy. he was a kid who was lead astray by a toxic mix of his own dark thoughts, parents who weren't aware how bad mental health could really be, a toxic culture at his school, and access to guns and pipe bombs. i feel as though if dylan had gotten proper help, he could've gone on to do great things - he was incredibly smart, getting into a program for gifted students when he was young smart. sue (klebold) has even admitted that she should've been more aware of mental health (or "brain health" as she likes to call it) while raising dylan and byron. while sue isn't to blame for what went on, i think that her parenting style certainly played a part into why dylans mental health got to the point where it was. sue mostly focused on getting byron help during the time dylan Really needed it, and when the van break in happened, sue gave dylan the choice on whether or not he needed therapy - obviously, he said no. i think that she gave dylan too much freedom and trusted him way too much on things that mattered, like therapy for an example. but, there's no perfect way to parent, and i am in no way whatsoever trying to say that sue was responsible for what dylan did!! i will close off by saying, while dylan definitely had potential and Needed help, and it pisses me off that he didn't get help, i am no way condoning what he did nor saying that he was "justified" in any way. he was struggling, sure, but he shouldn't have taken it out on innocent people. i am also in NO WAY supporting the "dylan was a follower" theory, i think it's fucking bullshit and eric and dylan both "followed" each other - i think their friendship was more codependent, and they hyped each other up to the point of no return. they are both at fault for what happened that day, and should both be held accountable to the same levels. thank you for reading if you've gotten this far!!! sorry i yapped so much i was expecting this to be WAY shorter lolol

#tccblr #teeceecee #dylan columbine #tc community #tcc tumblr #tee cee cee #eric columbine #eric and dylan #mental health #mental wellness #rant post #professional yapper #as u can tell i care WAY too much about this case. certified columfag #i do not condone #these guys r just fucked up and i like talking about it #kota rambles

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loulovingho · 1 month ago

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Bucktommy prompt: Tommy is dealing with chronic pain and Buck helps him through it.

Part 3 of my injured Tommy fic

If Tommy were being honest, there were some positives to being paralyzed. The first time he'd told Evan as much, he'd stared back at him with eyebrows raised and a face that said, “I can't wait to see where this is going.”

So Tommy had gone through the list he'd made in his head.

1. He always got the best parking spots.

2. Little old ladies now helped him in the grocery store.

3. People were constantly opening doors for him.

4. He'd get to board first on a plane... as soon as he and Evan figured out where they were going to go for their honeymoon.

5. Sometimes people let him cut in line.

6. He'd learned how to do some sick ass wheelies!

Buck had laughed along with his list, even adding a few himself.

7. Bigger hotel rooms.

8. Tommy's biceps were larger than Buck thought humanly possible.

9. If Buck got tired of walking, he could just sit on Tommy's lap and get a free ride.

And while these things were all good and true, there were plenty of things that made Tommy's new life far more difficult.

One of which were the body spasms.

He'd been warned about them in the hospital. Had a few of them before he'd been discharged. Learned how to deal with them, for the most part, through physical therapy. He'd also been put on muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and antidepressants.

Which really only caused more problems, because he spent the better part of a month feeling so doped up that he was asleep more than he was awake.

His doctors changed doses and moved around schedules, trying to find the perfect balance, but Tommy hated the pills no matter what.

They didn't only impact his day to day life, but also his ability and desire for sex.

And God, as his body recovered and he and Buck settled into their new normal, he really wanted to want to have sex.

Adjustments already had to be made do to the reduction of sensation he felt around his pelvis. Things got weaker and weaker from there, reduced to no feeling at all in his legs.

They'd had their quickie wedding at the courthouse in February, followed by a ceremony with family the next month, and started planning a honeymoon in the summer. And that's when Tommy decided he was going to cut back on some of his medications, and cut others out completely. He was not going to spend his honeymoon in a half daze, not caring whether or not his drop dead gorgeous husband was naked on top of him.

Buck had protested at first. He'd made it clear that sex didn't mean everything to him. The things they still did do were pretty damn great, and it wasn't worth Tommy being in pain.

But Tommy insisted.

So they'd met with his doctors and come up with a plan. He could go off the sleeping pills, taking them only when needed. They'd reduce the antidepressant in increments. And muscle relaxants could be used as needed as well.

For the most part, everything went fairly smoothly. His spasticity would rear its ugly head from time to time, but it wasn't anything unmanageable.

Until, one night, it was.

He should have known it was going to be a bad night. He'd been restless and uncomfortable all day long. He'd go from his wheelchair, to the couch, to the wheelchair, to the dining room chair, to the wheelchair, to the bed, then back to the wheelchair.

He'd tried wheeling around the neighborhood, usually enjoying using his arms to push himself around, but today he just felt stiff.

The muscle relaxants in the kitchen cabinet had been calling his name, but he'd resisted. Evan was coming off a forty-eight hour shift tonight, and he'd already texted Tommy a picture of himself all sweaty, no shirt on, telling him he was gonna get himself all cleaned up for Tommy.

And Tommy wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted, because he wanted it too. Which was a damn good feeling to have back.

He hoped that sex would help his body relax.

It didn't.

He'd gotten through it though, with a few little twinges of pain in his chest and back. Nothing too severe. And with Buck on top of him, his body flushed red, head tossed back and mouth hanging open, the pleasure overrode the pain.

It didn't get really bad until after Buck had fallen asleep. Tommy wasn't sure how long he laid there, trying to stay as still as possible so he didn't wake Evan.

Even as the pain started to radiate up his back, he clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

Then it went to his chest, causing his breath to hitch. The spasm made his back arch off the bed. If it didn't hurt so bad, he would have made some sort of exorcist joke.

His hands gripped onto the fitted sheet and he could feel a vibration.

His legs were probably shaking. He couldn't feel it, but it always happened when he had these spasms, even the minor ones.

He couldn't hardly get a breath. Not while fighting to be quiet. Not while his back and chest felt like they were becoming harder than a rock.

Finally, he unclenched his jaw and let out a half-moan, half-gasp.

“Ev- Evan,” he huffed out, releasing his grip on the sheet to smack his hand down on the bed. Tommy couldn't quite reach out far enough to touch him. Not when everything was seizing up like this. “Evan!” he repeated, louder this time.

Even in his deep sleep, Buck must've realized something was wrong. One second he was dead to the world, and the next he was jumping up, tossing the covers off of them both.

“What? What's wrong?” he said, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and turning on the lamp.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He didn't feel like seeing himself right now.

It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up to the sight in front of him. When he finally registered what was happening, he headed for the door. “I'm gonna get your meds.”

“No!” Tommy yelled, sucking in a breath. “D- Don't.”

“Tommy, you need your muscle relaxant.”

“I- I can't.” He managed to bring a hand to his throat, hoping Evan understood.

“You can't swallow right now,” Buck replied. It wasn't a question.

“Mhm. Just... Just-”

“Massage?” Buck guessed, getting to Tommy's side of the bed in record speed. “You think that would help this time?”

Figuring out the correct responses to these episodes was always a guessing game. Sometimes touch could make it worse. Tommy was pretty sure nothing could make it any worse right now.

“Mm... Mhm.” His jaw was getting so tight he could barely open his mouth.

“I'm gonna move you onto your side.” Very carefully, Buck turned Tommy's rigid body so he was facing away from him. It was an awkward angle, and he was having to do most of the work to keep Tommy on his side, but he managed to get into a position where he could start to dig the palm of his hand into Tommy's back.

At first, he was so tight Buck worried he was going to hurt him even more by massaging him. But, Tommy's breathing seemed to become a little fuller, and the groaning died down a bit.

So Buck continued. He'd alternate between using his palm, his fist, his thumb, to dig into the muscles and get them to loosen.

After a few minutes, Tommy had quieted down completely. His body relaxed into the bed as he flopped the rest of the way onto his stomach. The shaking in his legs subsided. He no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a million little pieces.

Still, Buck continued his massage. He worked up Tommy's neck, massaged his head, down to his shoulders, his back. He even massaged over his legs and feet, letting Tommy know what he was doing so he wouldn't think Buck had just left the room.

After about half an hour, Buck rested his hand at the center of Tommy's back. “Feel better?” he asked quietly, unsure if Tommy was even still awake at this point.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Tommy replied. He paused, blushing before starting to ask, “Did I... Do I need..?” He couldn't quite get the words out. Did I piss myself? Do I need to get up so we can change the sheets and clean me up?

It happened sometimes, when his body seized up. And while he nearly had full bladder control back, everything went haywire when it came to his spasms.

“No, you're good,” Buck answered, and Tommy thanked whoever might be listening that they were able to read each other's minds. “Think you can turn back over now?”

“Yeah. Yes, I- you'll have to help me though.”

“Of course.”

Once Tommy was resting comfortably on his back, head propped up under two pillows, Buck stared down at him. “You knew it was gonna happen today, didn't you?”

Tommy sighed. There was no point in lying. “Yeah. Not this bad though.”

“And you didn't take a pill earlier?”

“No.”

Buck sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded. He didn't answer. Didn't say a word. He simply turned and headed into the bathroom.

Tommy listened as he turned the sink on. It ran for a while, then Buck was back by his side. He ran a warm washcloth over Tommy's face, Tommy closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

Once Buck had finished wiping off his face, he started on his chest.

Tommy blinked his eyes back open, studying Buck.

He was tense, eyebrows knitted together as he focused on cleaning the sweat from Tommy's body.

Tommy's eyes drifted to Buck's hand, shaking ever so slightly.

He reached out and placed his hand over Buck's, gently gripping his wrist. Finally, Buck made eye contact with him.

“Please don't be mad,” Tommy said, knowing it was unfair even as he said it. Still, he hated to see Evan disappointed. Wasn't sure if he could handle it right now.

But as he looked further into Evan's eyes, he didn't see anger.

He saw fear, and sadness. Red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over.

“M'not mad,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I- I'm upset. I don't like seeing you in pain, Tommy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't do it again. I can't... I can't enjoy being with you- having sex with you,” he clarified, “if I think you're hurting yourself for it.”

“I know, Evan. I just... I just wanted to be with you tonight. Wanted to feel good. Wanted to make you feel good.”

Buck tossed the rag onto the nightstand, sitting down on the bed beside Tommy. “You know what makes me feel good?” he started, resting two fingers under Tommy's chin so he couldn't look away. “Seeing you comfortable makes me feel good. Us enjoying dinner together makes me feel good. Going for a walk in the evening, watching movies, going out for ice cream, you holding me in your arms, getting to hold you in mine, kissing you for hours and hours. All those things, plus like a million more, make me feel good. Sex is fun, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because damn you've got some moves,” he said, getting a smile out of Tommy, “but it's not everything to me. You are everything to me. I know we can't always prevent spasticity, but when we can, it would make me feel good if we did. Got it?”

Tommy nodded, giving himself a few seconds before verbally responding. “You can't just say stuff like that to me, you know,” he said, choked up. “I'm a softy now.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You were always a softy,” he informed Tommy, leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm gonna go get your pills now, okay?”

“Okay.” Before Buck could get too far, Tommy reached out and grabbed at his hand. “Hey. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Buck cocked his head, giving Tommy a glare. “If you start singing Rod Stewart to me, I will divorce you.”

“No, seriously, Baby,” Tommy said, keeping a straight face. “Have I told you there's no one else above you?”

“I already know a good attorney.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” Tommy continued, grinning, “take away all my sadness.”

Buck wriggled his hand free of Tommy's grasp, heading out toward the kitchen. “If you hear the front door slam, I'll be back later for my things.”

Tommy's smile only widened as he yelled out, “You ease my troubles, that's what you do!”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #injured tommy #reminder to me to put these on ao3

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