#i was cleaning a patients wound and was told to take the top of the scab off if i could

[unamused-kookaburra]

I don't want to jinx myself but my second 12 hour shift at the hospital is going really well, especially compared to yesterday's 12 hour shift (I fainted in the last hour and the team leader made me call my parents to pick me up :))

[vanishingstarrs]

pancakes for dinner ( k bakugo x nurse!reader, pro hero era, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo aka my boyfie fr, slight smut at the end, NSFW, minors DNI ) ( guysss i’ve been so sick and i’ve been suffering having to work still bc #hispanic we ain’t eva allowed to call out )): i’ve been wanting to write please please please x bakugo but haven’t had the energy, meantime hope y’all enjoy this little fic <3 just wholesome mushy stuff for y’all but then it turned smutty at the end because why not lol also i’m pretty new to writing explicitly so pls lmk how it came out !! idk if i'll do that again lmao we shall see i guess )

You were exhausted.

Mentally and physically.

Work had been a tad overwhelming lately, with extra things being piled onto your already heavy workload after a big merger between two of Japan’s biggest hospitals, which in turn caused a lot of people to be let go. Not only had it been stressful wondering whether you’d make the cut or not after a “re-interview”, but when you learned that you had been accepted you’d also been asked if you could take on a few extra duties.

You had never been one to back down from work, always taking initiative and being happy to help any one of your coworkers that might need it.

Lately though, it seemed every single person needed help. Your coworkers, your patients, and if it wasn’t those two then it was your boss asking if you could help her with management duties that had nothing to do with the extra work you’d been assigned to do on top of everything else.

You were sick and tired.

Your muscles cried out as you pushed your apartment door open and immediately kicked off your shoes, groaning as you bent down in order to place them onto the shoe stand. You were sure you heard your back crack as you stood straight once more to hang your purse and keys.

You didn’t bother unpacking the lunch you never got time to eat, leaving the bag you packed it in tied up and in the fridge before heading into your bedroom and immediately shedding your scrubs. You hated doing skincare, but thought about how dirty your face must be after dealing with so many patients and dragged yourself into the bathroom to get it over with.

By the time you were finished doing everything, your body was begging you to lay down for just a minute.

A little power nap never hurt, you told yourself as you fell onto your bed face first and sighed. You hugged your pillow to your aching body and allowed yourself to relax for just a little while.

Though “a minute” quickly turned into three hours as the sun went down and the night sky pulled you further into dreamland.

You didn’t hear the front door open or close, you didn’t stir when your boyfriend started removing his hero equipment, much less wake when those heavy gauntlets he somehow wore all day hit the floor or when his pounding footsteps carried across the hardwood as he made his way to your shared bedroom to check on you.

You missed the brief smirk on his face as he found you lying on his side of the bed, on your right side with a leg propped up for comfort.

Katsuki knew how hard you’d been working lately with the merger between the two hospitals and how stressed it made you. With him working as a hero, he encountered many people that wound up needing to go to the hospital. On top of that, you also had all the other sick people that hadn’t been involved in some villain attack. You likely dealt and saved more people in a single day than he did in a month, he knew this, he was proud of the fact, actually, and incredibly proud of you.

He was damn lucky to have you.

And for all these reasons, he was happy to see you rest for a bit.

He’d often come home late and find that you’d already done all the cleaning around the house, as well as meal prep for both you and him, and still found the time to bake desert on top of making him dinner. You went above and beyond in all aspects of your life, often even calling and checking up on his parents when he hadn’t done so in too long. He’d receive texts from his mother scolding him and making sure he was taking good care of you the way she knew you did him, he swore you were the favorite and he understood why you were.

Everyone loved you.

He adored you.

Except he hadn’t been doing his part as well as he should be lately.

And so, while you slept, he quietly changed into some loungewear before carefully shutting the bedroom door closed behind him.

He tried his hardest to be quiet as he went around cleaning up throughout the house, he swept, he steam mopped the floors (and prayed he didn’t miss a spot), he did your laundry, took your work shoes and scrubbed them clean for your next workday, he took your old lunch and tossed it out before setting to work on preparing you something delicious for tomorrow.

Being in the kitchen was actually soothing for him, he liked being able to experiment with recipes and different things for you to try. He hated that he hadn’t made the time to recently. He cooked enough dinner to pack lunch for both you and him, then last minutely decided that you’d definitely want something sweet when you woke up and pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

You liked it best when you had pancakes for dinner, not breakfast.

He was extremely pleased when they turned out light and fluffy just the way you liked them and he set out to cut up some fruit for you to put on top, making sure everything was ready before heading back to your shared room.

Katsuki was less quiet this time around, as he slid into bed next to you. He propped himself up on his elbow as he buried his fingers into your hair and gently scratched your scalp.

You were exhausted, and likely wouldn’t have woken up if not for him leaning over and placing kisses from your neck all the way up to your ear. You felt his hot breath as he whispered for you to please wake up, which made you groan softly.

You’d yet to open your eyes, but who else would it be? You asked,“Katsuki?”

“Made you food, baby, c’mon, I saw you didn’t eat your lunch, you gotta put somethin’ in your belly.” He explained as he removed his hand from your hair and lifted the material of your shirt to rub up and down your stomach, you felt him inch closer to your chest before stopping himself and tugging your tank top back down to your waist.

You turned toward him, quickly finding the divet in between his shoulder and neck to plant your face in. You were barely awake, not really comprehending what he was trying to say.

“Missed you.” You relaxed further into him.

“Missed you so much, sweets.” You felt him kiss your forehead,“Hate to pull you from bed, but you really gotta open your eyes for me.”

You did as he asked, smiling as his face came into view, lit up by the soft light streaming in from the hallway. “Hi, honey.” You managed to get out as he smushed your cheeks (cuteness aggression) and placed three kisses onto your nose.

You grinned as he said hi back and repeated that he’d cooked for you.

You beamed, you hadn’t had his cooking in a while, but didn’t exactly make a move to get up from bed. It wasn’t until he revealed that he’d made you pancakes, that had you up in seconds.

He chuckled as he followed you down the hall, lightly smacking your butt as you happily made your way through the apartment. You turned to him with surprise,“You cleaned too?”

“Course.” He scoffed as he tugged on your hand and sat you down at your small table that sat four people max. “I’d do it more if you didn’t always beat me to everything, I was thinking I should be doing a bit more around here anyway.”

“I can handle it.” You said, like always.

He rolled his eyes as he brought over the plate he’d prepared for you.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying you don’t have to give a hundred percent every day, you know? You could give me thirty and I’d be more than happy to give the remaining seventy.” He began to explain,“I wanna take care of you too, and that starts by you not doing everything.”

You silently watched him cut up your pancakes before placing some fruit onto them and drizzling maple syrup all over, he gave you tea to drink and pulled his chair closer to you while you ate.

He ran his fingers through your hair again as you told him all about your day before asking about his and what time he’d gotten home. He let you feed him a couple bites of food and you snagged a few extra kisses each time you lied and told him he had syrup on his face.

When you finished, he asked if you’d like a bit of real food, claiming he wanted you nice and full. You agreed, happy to eat what he’d prepared.

You were less tired now, satisfied with your belly full and sitting with your lover as he recalled a story about retrieving someone’s lost kitten in a tree. You laughed at the classic save and felt your mental load becoming lighter the more the minutes went on.

After eating, the pampering continued.

Katsuki demanded you allow him to run you a bath, and he quickly made the bathroom up with a few candles. He set up a movie for you to watch on your laptop as he came into the room with you and offered to wash your hair. You requested he get in with you then, and he obliged quickly, taking his time when it came to massaging his hands through your hair and pressing kisses against your back at every opportunity. He held you against his chest as you relaxed into him.

You honestly started to get sleepy again.

And then it was ripped away from you once more as Katsuki led you to bed, not to sleep, but to have you spread out against the mattress for him to plaster his tongue against you and demand he get his dinner now.

“Wanna take care of you.” He’d said.

He quickly had you squirming and writhing underneath his touch and the feel of his fingers inside as he worked you until completion. He sung you praises about how hard you’d been working lately, telling you how you deserved this and more, as well as making sure you knew how good you always did for him.

“One more, baby.” He begged.

One more turned into two then three, and by the time he finally lined himself up to your entrance you were spent. He worshipped your body, kneading your breasts and holding one of your hands back so you couldn’t hide how flushed your face had become from not just his compliments, but from the way he fucked you.

“Katsuki,” You moaned,“Close.” Again.

“Cum with me, baby, please.”

The movement of his hips was starting to get sloppy, but neither of you noticed through the haze. He whined in your ear as you latched onto his back with your hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, your walls squeezed him and he moaned one last time as he got lost in euphoria. He didn’t make a move to remove himself as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your own and kissed your cheek and then your neck and then your collarbone, making a line all the way down to your bellybutton.

He occupied himself with making sure you stayed awake despite your eyes being closed as you attempted to catch your breath, he sucked hard enough to leave a few marks along your chest and before you knew it you started to feel him become hard inside of you again.

Your eyes snapped open as you gave him a look.

Katsuki smirked as he rubbed your hip and stole your mouth briefly,“Gotta make sure you’re nice and full, baby, one more time f’me, please?”

“You’re insatiable.” You told him.

And yet, how could you say no to him when he looked at you that way?

It was a good thing you’d taken that nap earlier, especially now that your body would soon be aching for a different reason.

[atlafan]

Yes yes plz!! What about a holiday blurb of doctorry and patient y/n during the holidays? He is her doctor on Xmas or NYE 🧐 thoughts?

I sort of missed answering prompts???? Thanks for sending this in, I hope you like it! I ended up going with NYE

Warnings: mentions of blood, clumsiness, and smut!

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Y/N isn't normally one to complain. Any time she thinks to, "Kim, there are people that are dying", swarms through her head.

The night started off so promising. Y/N was headed to a friend's part for NYE. Her friend's apartment has a great view of the fireworks. She was also excited because her friend said a very cute guy that Y/N should definitely meet would be attending. Not that Y/N is shallow, but when her friend said the man in question was a doctor, well, Y/N got a little giddy.

She was all dressed up and ready to go. A sequin dress, dark tights, and heels accompanied with a bold red lipstick. She was feeling good. A few friends thought it would be fun to pregame before going to the party. Just a few shots with the girlies, nothing crazy. Y/N was nervous to meet the doctor, so she had no qualms with pregaming.

Except, on the way to the party, since she was a little tipsy, Y/N stripped and fell on the sidewalk. Why they didn't just take an Uber, she'll never know. Her friends laughed until they saw Y/N's face. Her lips busted open and it's bleeding, her tights ripped at her knees, and one of them was gushing blood. And on top of all that, one of her heels broke. Her friends scooped her up, ordered an Uber, and took her to the emergency room.

Her knees were stinging, her lip was throbbing, and she;s just noticing how scraped up her palms are. She's trying to keep cool in front of her friends. This is a huge delay in their plans, and she feels terrible that it's because of her. Not to mention, what if the cute doctor guy ends up talking to some other girl because Y/N is stuck at the hospital.

One of the nurses gave her a compress to keep against the knee that was heavily bleeding while one of her friends helped fill out some forms.

"Guys, go on ahead to the party," she told them, "I'll be fine."

"We're not leaving you, Y/N. It's not even 9PM, we have plenty of time to get to Francesca's." One of her friends said.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A nurse says her name blandly, no urgency, just annoyance in her tone.

"That's me." Y/N says, and stands up. One of her friends is ready to go with her, but the nurse holds up her hand.

"Just the patient, unless you're family. We still have some COVID procedures here."

Y/N followed the nurse into a small room where she took her vitals. Y/N was still actively bleeding from her knee and lip, but the nurse didn't seem to care, or think it was that big of a deal.

"Alright, the doctor should be in shortly." The nurse and leaves the room before Y/N can ask any questions.

It takes ten minutes until she hears a knock on the door and the doctor comes in.

"Hi, sorry. I was halfway out the door when they asked me to stay, so I had to get back into my scrubs and..." The doctor looks at Y/N who is now sobbing. She's been silently crying for about five minutes, but now the floodgates are open. "You must be in a lot of pain." He sits on the stool and scoots over to her. "Let's take a look at that knee."

"I'm s-sorry." She cries. "I ruined my own night, my friends' night, and now yours." She hiccups, then hisses when the doctor takes the compress off her knee.

"You didn't ruin my night, don't worry." He gets up and puts some gloves on, then grabs the necessary items needed to clean the wound. "This'll sting a little. Feel free to grab my shoulder or something if you need something to hold onto."

"Do you think I'll need stitch-ow!" Out of instinct, she presses his chest with her foot and pushes him back. "What the hell?!"

"I told you it would sting." He looks down at his scrubs that now have a wet footprint on it. "Where are your shoes?"

"In the lobby with my friends. One of my heels broke, so I just walked without them. And that was more than a sting! That was, like, a bee sting, much worse than a regular sting."

"Your skin's probably just raw. What even happened, how did you get like this?"

"I tripped and fell. Ah!" This time she grabs onto his hair and tugs hard as he continues to clean up her knee.

The doctor takes a deep breath and removes Y/N's hand from his head. "I said you could grab my shoulder."

"It hurts!"

"I have to cut your stockings a bit so I can get a look at your entire knee." He scoots back, grabs scissors, then scoots back to her. "I hope you weren't attached to these."

"They're ruined anyways. Go on, cut away."

"So, what'd you trip on?"

"Myself." She groans. "We were leaving a pregame before heading to a party at my friend's apartment."

"Ah, been there." He stretches the material until it tares. He can see how swollen Y/N's knee is. "This swelled up like a cantaloupe, no wonder it hurts so much. Did you land right on the cap?"

"Yeah, and then I skidded." She wipes under her eyes and pouts. "I must look like a racoon."

"You don't." He looks up at her briefly. "You won't need stitches, but you need some skin glue and a bandage. I'll take care of this first, then we can take care of your lip. It looks like it's clotted, so you're not bleeding now."

"Okay." She sighs and slumps a little. "You never told me your name."

"Oh! Sorry." He squeezes the glue onto his gloved finger and puts it on the wound. "I'm Dr. Styles."

"Styles? Is...is your first name Harry?"

"Yeah." He's busy concentrating on closing her wound, so he doesn't see the horrified look on her face. He puts the bandage over it and presses it firmly.

"This wasn't how I was supposed to meet you." She slides her hands down her face.

"We were supposed to meet?" He looks up at her, confused.

"Yes, I'm Y/N Y/L/N...my friend, who's having the party I was going to, was supposed to set us up tonight."

"Your Francesca's friend Y/N?" He smiles. "That's crazy. I was on my way to the party when they told me to stay and help you. Guess it was fate, one way or another."

"I'm a mess..."

"You had an accident." He chuckles and stands up once her knee is secure. He grips her chin to get a better look at her lip. "Top lip's the one that's busted. You're swollen here too. I'll give you some ice in a bit."

"Does it need a stitch?"

"Nope, but I'll put some glue on it so it can heal a little faster. I'm gonna clean this up. It shouldn't hurt like your knee, but it'll still sting." He gets a cotton pad wet with some alcohol, "Now that I know we were technically supposed to be on a blind date tonight, feel free to tug at my hair all you want." He smirks, and Y/N's cheeks redden.

"Jesus!" She hisses as he cleans up her lip.

"You're kind of a baby." He dabs at her lip a few more times, then gets some glue onto his gloved finger. "What do you do for work?"

"I am a baby, I'll admit it. I have a very low tolerance for pain. I'm in IT, I work for that Norton company, the one that protects your computer from malware."

"Wow, that's a huge company. Good for you. Do you, like, code, or...?"

"Sort of. I basically figure out how hackers hack so I can build a stronger code that hackers can't hack."

"You know, while you were talking, I finished taking care of your lip. Guess you're someone that needs a distraction."

"Yeah, guess so. Um, thank you."

"You're welcome." He sits back down on the stool and just looks at her. "I have a sort of wild idea. You're pretty banged up and don't have shoes, and I'm honestly not a fan of huge parties. So, what if I take you home so you can change into something more comfortable, I'll order us some takeout, then we can go back to mine to watch the fireworks. I have a decent view, might even be better than Francesca's."

"I kicked you, screamed, and almost ripped your hair out, and you still want to spend the night together?"

"Y/N, I'm gonna be completely honest, if we weren't at my place of work, I'd lock the door and rip your tights open in a much more private area."

"Oh." Her heart starts racing. "Well, uh, considering that I won't be able to get on my knees tonight, I guess you'll have to."

Harry grins and stands up. "I'm gonna let the nurse know you're all set so you can check out. Wait for me out front in the lobby. I just need to change and grab my stuff. I'm parking in the hospital's garage."

"Alright."

Once Y/N is back with her friends, she tells them everything and lets them know they can leave and that she'll check in throughout the night.

Harry drives Y/N home in a comfortable silence. She was grateful Harry wasn't talking her ear off. She just wanted to focus on pressing the ice pack he gave her to her knee.

"I'd offer to go up with you, but I really want to make it to my place." He tells her.

"No worries. I won't be long. I'm just gonna grab a different pair of shoes and throw some sweats into a bag. I can just change when we get there."

"Works for me."

Y/N goes as quickly as she can to get up to her apartment, grab what she needs, and get back down to Harry's care. In reality, it was barely ten minutes.

Harry pulls up to his building about twenty minutes later, and hands his keys to the valet.

"Oh, so you're like, rich, rich." Y/N jokes.

"You live in a nice building too." Harry laughs. "I like knowing my car is safe in the building's garage, and it's so easy to hand the keys to the valet. "Our takeout will be brought up to my door. I got tons of different Chinese food. Does that work?"

"Chinese food is perfect."

They head into the elevator and ride up to Harry's floor. He leads her into his condo and gets her a glass of water.

"This is a great place." She tells him.

"Thanks, I like it a lot."

"And there's your view, your couch is in the perfect spot." Y/N goes over to it and sits down. Harry sits down next to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders.

"Is this okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Her eyes flit to his lips. "How am I supposed to kiss you with my busted lip?"

"Your bottom lip isn't busted." He reaches with his free hand and presses his thumb into it. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Yes." She nods and lets her eyes flutter closed.

Harry's lips gently takes Y/N's bottom lip between them. The tip of his tongue swipes over it before giving it a little suck. He pulls back to look at her. "Okay?"

"Yeah, do it again." She slides her arms around his neck and pulls him close.

Y/N parts her lips and licks into Harry's mouth. He moans softly against her and grips her jaw. They both sink into it a little more, but Y/N whimpers and pulls back.

"This is so annoying." She frowns. "It hurts too much."

"How's your neck feel?"

"Fine, why?"

"Can I kiss you there?"

"Yes." She nods. "And I work from home, so you can leave marks."

"You get better by the second." He grinned and leaned forward to start kissing on her neck.

He licks up the side and nips at the spot just under her earlobe. Y/N slides her fingers into Harry's hair and moans as his teeth graze her skin.

"Can't handle an alcohol wipe to a wound, but you're panting like a dog from getting your neck bitten." He smirks. "Interesting."

"I'm a very complex person."

"I can see that." He looks down between them, then back up at her. "Can I go down on you?"

"What?!" She laughs. "Why, so you can do it for two seconds and pretend like you did me a huge favor just to get your dick wet?"

"Um, no, because I like it and I want to taste you and make you feel good."

"Be serious."

"I am." He puts his hand on her shoulder and lays her down. "Let me prove it."

"Be my guest." She opens her legs. "Rip them like you said you would have."

Harry rucks up the skirt of Y/N's dress and gets a grip on the crotch of her tights. He rips them easily and is delighted to see her bare cunt. He spits down onto it and puts his mouth on her, sucking his spit back in, then spitting it into her. He drags his tongue up her clit and swirls the tip of his tongue around it. He spreads her legs wider, pressing his large hands into her thighs. He moans as he sucks on her clit, and moans harder when he feels her fingers suddenly tugging at his roots.

He brings his tongue back down to her opening and licks inside, sucking on her entire pussy. Y/N moans and writhes under him, feeling squirmy and hot and good. His tongue curls up against her spongey front wall and he brings his thumb to her clit to rub on.

"Oh, shit." She gasps and arches her back. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop." Her head moves from side to side and her hips roll towards Harry's mouth. She tugs on his hair and pushes his face harder against her. He moans and chuckles lowly into her, eating her sloppily without a care in the world. "I'm getting close." She mewls. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, dddddohhhhhh my god!" She comes around his tongue in waves, grinding herself down against him.

Harry pulls back just a touch, licking and sucking over Y/N's folds, then brings himself to hover over her. He pecks her lips. His nose squishes to her and they both smile. The doorbell rings and they both sit up.

"That's the food." Harry says.

"Great. I bet it's piping hot."

"Definitely."

"So, it'll need time to cool down." She stands up with him. "Maybe we could continue this in your bedroom to pass the time?"

And that's how Y/N ended up missing the fireworks at Francesca's party. She missed them at Harry's as well, but that was only because he was fucking into her so deeply that he was able to give her a vaginal orgasm. 2024 is going to be a great year, she can feel it.

[opluffys]

Mentor + Mentee-

-second part-

somethin quick, this was posted to my archive first as usual. pls let me know if there are any errors or if it copied weird. enjoy!!! :)

tags- thigh riding, vaginal sex, creampie, rough sex, toxic relationship, fem reader.

3.5k words.

-Ghost x Reader-

-nsfw/smut-

Hanging up and tossing the heavy wired phone onto your desk, you groaned in pure exasperation. The paperwork on your desk seemed endless, the monotonous and drab of black ink on bright white paper burning your irises, enforcing a migraine on you.

You've just gotten off the phone with, whoever the fuck, discussing the possibility of getting an assistant to help you with the excess of paperwork you've been filling out as of late. You were a doctor, your main job consisted of ensuring your patients didn't bleed out under your steady and careful hand. It was already hard enough, and now you had the added stress of the sneering stack of papers mocking you.

You clicked the ballpoint pen, bouncing your leg as the tip of the pen hit the paper, dark ink pooling and bleeding through the thin material. Your grip tightened just then, the bouncing of your leg increasing tenfold as your thoughts ran wild.

And as you continued to think, you remembered a crucial detail.

The Task Force, fuck, they're coming back today. From some mission, and you're sure Gaz told you all about it while you gave him a routine checkup, but for the life of you, you couldn't remember the main gist of it.

You didn't want to face them, face him.

•

Biting back a wail of pain as you removed the intravenous line from Soap's arm, you heard Gaz howl in laughter from the spare cot he rested on. Which had garnered him an angered stare by Soap.

"You're such a baby," Gaz laughed, turning on his side to stare right at both you and Soap.

"Fuck off." Soap gritted, hissing in agony as you continued to stitch up his lesion.

"You gonna make me?" He teased, his stare not faltering on Soap's. He glared at him, about to retaliate with his own quip before you proceeded to wipe his wound clean, the sterile stench of the antiseptic flooding your nostrils. He let out a muted scream, his good arm covering the top half of his face.

"Keep still, Johnny." You huffed, adjusting the surgical mask pulled over your features. Gaz seemed to be having a field-day at watching the scene unfold, a smug smile on his lips.

"Gaz, I can stop the morphine drip, you know." You hummed, a hidden smile of your own forming. He looked at you, a glint of fear striking his honey eyes. You held back the urge to laugh, you enjoyed teasing both of these boys in your office, and you knew the three of you were aware that you'd never do anything to bring them more pain.

"Sorry ma'am."

Now it was Soap's turn to laugh, and you discarded your surgical gloves while hearing the two hurl crude insults at one another. They provided decent white noise, and you'd take that over the deafening silence of your rampant thoughts whilst your pen danced elegantly over the various documents.

The two eventually quieted down, a tranquil silence over them as you watched the pain medication take effect on their bodies. Not even five minutes passed before you heard them snore loudly, all cuddled up into the scratchy hospital blankets.

It'd been a couple of days since the entirety of the Task Force had returned. You've only been treating Gaz and Soap, your full attention on them. Usually, you would treat them all, but you honestly didn't want to face Ghost one on one. So, to take some heat off of you, you asked another medic to tend to both Price and Ghost. Just so he didn't feel like you'd singled him out.

But, your attempts would be in vain.

•

Stretching and hearing your joints and ligaments pop in relief, you slumped over the desk, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you filed the last group of papers. Both Gaz and Soap had left your office today, thanking you for taking care of them (after raiding your lollipop drawer).

So, you sat alone, the small swooshes of air against your body feeling welcomed, the ceiling fan above creaking with every spin. All you'd have to do now was stamp the final line of the packet, ensuring you've read over the contents carefully, and then you were free. Free to run into the uncomfortable and ill-fitting confines of your bunk.

You were lost in the work, so much so you hadn't even noticed the hulking figure taking up most of the space within your office.

"You're avoidin' me."

You nearly shrieked in terror, almost developing a fatal case of tachycardia as you held your hand over your rapidly beating heart.

"What?" Part of you wasn't really surprised that Ghost had managed to sneak up on you, it was his job, after all.

"You're avoidin' me," He repeated, stepping closer to you in large and fluid strides.

"No, I'm not avoiding you. Don't be ridiculous." Yes, I am.

"Actin' all innocent on me," He was right across from you now, his large hands resting on the cheap and fake wood of your desk, hearing it creak under his weight, "we both know that's not the truth."

"It is." It isn't.

"Get up." He commanded, and you knew that tone, that authoritarian inside of him being twisted and used against you in a way that it shouldn't.

"I'm busy." Liar.

"I won't ask again."

You shuddered lightly, telling yourself that it was just because of the excessive air from the ceiling fan skating across your heated skin. But you knew such a thing was a falsified truth.

"What? What is so important that-"

"Come over here." He hushed you before you could even finish your sentence, seating himself on a sterilised and neatly prepped cot. It was all too familiar, to the point where that same damned familiar throbbing and heat was felt in between your legs.

Your legs shook, hesitating to even take a single step towards Ghost, your mind and body both telling you different things. It was tearing you apart in the most agonising and tortuous way.

Still, you'd made you way towards him, standing idly as you struggled to maintain eye contact with him. A scowl formed on your lips, eyes flickering to his chilled demeanour. You hated how he was always so calm- so tranquil and at ease, like he wasn't feeling the same things you were, maybe because he's not, at least not for you.

"Sit." He spread his massive legs, indicating exactly where he'd wanted you. You listened wordlessly, taking a seat on his muscled thighs, your hands fisting into your scrubs.

"Make it quick," You huffed, now attempting to remove your uniform, "I have a lot to do." You sighed, fingers hooking at your waistband and pulling down, or at least you'd attempted to do so, being stopped by a harsh hand encapsulating both of your wrists.

He held your hip with his lone hand, beginning to slide you over the thick muscle of his thigh, hearing you gasp in shock. His eyes pierced your own, roughly continuing to move you atop him, the material of both your scrubs and panties against your clit overwhelming.

The both of you continued to stare at one another, your breath quickening as you felt that cursed familiarity of your orgasm creeping up on you with silent strides. Your hands were still stuck in Ghost's firm grasp, wanting nothing more than to grab at him, to pull his mask forward and kiss him like you'd perish without it. Without him.

Just thinking of such a scenario had you reeling, your hips jerking as you felt your clit being rubbed just by his thigh alone. The feeling of his as well as your uniform dragging against that sensitive nub making your mind go hazy.

As you felt your release become imminent, he stopped his movements, unshackling your hands from his grip. He hastily tore your uniform, something of which he'd only done when he was particularly angered. With you or his mission, you had no clue.

His cruel stare on you was discomforting, he looked at you like you were a piece of meat- something subhuman. Just a body to warm his cock, and how fitting your thoughts were- because he quickly slipped his own bottoms down, revealing his erect cock for a split second before burying himself inside of you.

Always so rushed, hurried and lacking any control. A crude opposition to him on the field.

You suppressed a high pitched moan, hands itching to touch him, to ground yourself against him and ride him until your thighs would burn akin to hellfire. He let out a deep grunt, his hand slapping the excess flesh at your ass, bouncing you atop him like you had been weightless.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, you were familiar with the fact that you were just Ghost's stress reliever. How he'd prowl into your office during the late hours to bend you over any surface and fuck you until muted screams left your lips.

For a while, you didn't mind it at all.

In actuality, you'd enjoyed such a thing. You felt an odd sense of honour swell in your chest, at the sole fact that he'd chosen you. He chose your body to hold onto, to whisper vile and cruel things in your ear, to grab at your body like that was all you were- a body. Void of a soul, a conscious, anything.

Being his personal fuck-doll had its ups and downs, where he'd make you orgasm more times than you could count, fucking you until you cried. But the polar opposite, of when he'd leave dark purples on your thighs, your hips, neck, fucking everywhere.

Like he was doing now.

You felt his hands roam around your softer body, catching at the fat of your hips, anchoring himself to you and bouncing you atop his thick and girthy cock with fervour. It was as if he didn't know the extent of his raw strength, already biting dark hues of purple into your soft and delicate skin.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your body struggled not to slump forward, flush against his strong chest. You didn't touch him, you swore you wouldn't. He didn't deserve it. A pathetic little thing you told yourself, just so you didn't get attached, because there was nothing more you'd yearned for to hold him like a lover did. To wrap your arms around him and feeling him lovingly piston into you, to kiss your cheek tenderly while your wet insides squeezed him with a vengeful grasp.

It's all too late, anyway.

He stopped, grabbing your chin and watching as your eyes popped open in disillusion.

"Eyes on me," Low, accented tone gravelly as he commanded you.

How dare he, your eyes met his instantaneously. Watching intently as his platinum lashes rested on his zygoma for a millisecond before opening back up to look at you. To look into you, to pick you apart, seemingly, until you turned to nothing. An obedient creature glued to his side, aching knees and jaw being ignored as you served him, like the good little thing you were.

His strained sounds were heard, quiet groans and animalistic sounding grunts as he thrusted upwards, bashing into your womb again and again. It hurt so good and you fucking hated it. You hated how just sole eye contact alone would have you naked and pressed against his clothed chest, fat cock stretching your insides.

Fuck, you loved it.

You absolutely adored it, being stuffed full of him, his mushroom tip pressing flush against your womb. Loved the bruises, the blemishes he's caused. His markings, claiming you as his, his plaything. Like an infants grubby hands over a shiny new toy, slobbering all over it and showing everyone that it was theirs.

No, you'd repeat, whilst being lifted off of him, your hands linked with each other behind your back, before being brought back down to him. Heavy cock twitching inside your tight walls, slick coating his dick, veiny and big, always reaching new spots inside of you. Spots that had searing stars incandescently tug at your vision.

Conflicting emotions, a curse, something that'd have you lay awake at night. Lay in your own cot, or sat next to an ill patient. Thinking about him, wondering, perhaps he was thinking of you, too.

How laughable.

Your eyes wandered, the interminable connection of your irises to his inadmissible. His eyes were always so eloquent, nearly showing what he'd been thinking. You couldn't stand it. You enjoyed the mask, enjoyed not seeing his face, because then, it'd be that much more personal. He wouldn't be Ghost to you anymore, he'd be someone, someone more than just a bed warmer.

Would you, though?

He squeezed your hips, garnering your attention to him once more. His brows furrowed, a thin sheet of sweat encompassing the two of you. He continued to fuck into your slick heat, revelling in how you always took him so well, as he said. Drunk off of you alone, and it was one of those nights.

"Fuckin' made for me,"

Just a slip of the tongue.

But no, you took that and ran with it, lungs burning while your legs continued to sprint. Oh, how you wished that was the case. You were tethered to him for a single purpose, for him to empty himself into you, to lay you across the hospital cot and fuck you from the back, always feeling him so deep. A place where no other man could dare to traverse, could never reach, anyway.

Was it on purpose?

Moulding you to his shape, getting you accustomed (it was always impossible anyways, taking him) to his cock. To spite you when you settled down, found a man who would love you, who would care for you. He wouldn't be enough, because Ghost already left his mark.

You were knocked out of your thoughts, thankfully, when you felt his gloved fingers begin to rub tight circles into your clit. His eyes now studied where the two of you had been joined, watching as your greedy pussy would always desperately pull his girth back in for more, a pathetic beg, don't leave.

You suddenly wailed, your hands grabbing his broad shoulders for purchase as your body shook. Toes curling, back arching as your eyes etched shut, sparkly tears trailing down your heated cheeks. You came hard against him, your essence coating his cock as he fucked you relentlessly, low and deep growls rumbling through his chest. He cursed, feeling your velvety insides continuing to take him deeper inside, he's already giving it all to you but fuck, you want more, you want it all.

"Such a greedy little thing."

He always knew what you were thinking.

"Love when I fuck you like this, don't you?"

Yes, no, yes, no-

"When I fill you up, fuckin' love it, don't you," He groaned, throwing his head back as he buried himself deep within you, nearly invading the inside of your womb as his warm and thick seed filled you. Marking you so that no other man could ever- would ever, do something striking even to him. Such a cruelty, acting like you'd belonged to him. You didn't know what he'd looked like, only aware of his name from medical records.

"Always so good for me."

And you hated how that had been the unvarnished truth.

•

You stared at your hands, ungloved and bare. Soft, skilled, shaking.

Why?

You'd touched him, in a way you swore you wouldn't ever. You'd expected to be thrown off, to be looked at as scum, worse than such a thing.

It was an accident, you didn't mean to. You weren't thinking straight, it was unfeasible with him splitting you open atop his lap. You just needed to ground yourself against him, for fear of falling, pathetic excuses.

A rueful thing you'd been over the next days, your usual adept hands quivering and trembling as you'd treated some of your patients.

You heard the click of a door open, and your posture snapped up, glossy eyes searching for who entered your space.

A breath of relief as it had just been Price.

You snapped a fresh pair of gloves on, bright blue going well with your dark scrubs. You led him to a cleaned cot, asking him just what the problem had been.

"Nothin' much, love." You loathed yourself for how your heart desired him to call you more pet names. To fill in Ghost's shadow and take care of you, as the natural leader he was. You were sure he'd be excellent at doing so.

"Missed your stitches, though." He huffed, relaxing into the bed as you ran an intravenous line for him just in case.

You looked at him, a quizzical glint in your eye. "My medic didn't take good care of you two?" Just you-

"Oh, no, didn't mean it like that." He looked penitent, kind eyes trailing over you before returning back to your stare. "Just meant that you know me better, sweetheart."

It was the truth, you were the Task Force's doctor, after all. It was just an innocent compliment of how good of a physician you'd been. Yet, you felt dizzy, the room a pirouette as you forced yourself to become calm.

"I'll keep that in mind next time, Price." You smiled, motioning for him to lift his shirt to check his lesions and other deep gashes that required attention. Your medic had done a good job, stitching and sterilising his wounds. But, the stitches were beginning to loosen, and you didn't need the wound becoming infected.

Your touches on him were always solicitous on him, more so than the others. Your gloved fingertips gentle on his muscled body, your stare wrongfully looking at his abs, lower and lower to that mesmerising trail of h-

"Gaz and Soap again?" He questioned, his gruff voice shaking you.

You looked at him confused, before he nodded towards the empty jar of sweets. You hadn't even noticed, they must've done so when you were out of the room, those stealthy bastards.

"Had to be," You laughed, making a mental note to restock the jar, "sorry you didn't get one."

"S'alright love." He hummed, his striking blues closing as you redid the stitches over his abdomen, watching as his stomach twitched in response to your careful and airy touch.

You finished quickly, removing your gloves and tossing them in a spare bin. You questioned if he'd wanted the extra fluids and medication, but he'd declined, thanking you for patching him up.

You motioned to clean your station, grabbing the bag of saline fluid before it had popped open, spilling all over your top. You cursed in vexation, more angry at the lost supplies rather than your soiled uniform.

Price quickly was at your side, spare cloth in hand as he attempted to clean the saline from your scrubs. "It's fine," You said, not used to being so close to him. His scent was intoxicating, that hint of smoke already having you feel utterly addicted to his presence alone.

He brushed you off, offering his services as he continued to dry you off. The cloth caught on the neck of the scrubs, pulling the material just below your clavicle, just where that array of purple lay, unperturbed on your skin. He let out a rushed apology, fixing you to look decent, his demeanour so focused on you.

Normally, it was the other way around.

But it felt nice being the one taken care of, for once.

•

Tossing your uniform into the laundry, you felt nice in a new set of clothes. No longer being confined to scrubs, but instead a comfortable cotton outfit against you. You eyed yourself in the mirror, clicking your tongue in distaste. Dark rings of purple running around the underside of your eyes, looking as if you haven't slept in years. Hell, it felt that way, too.

You'd had a long day, full of monotonous paperwork, sobbing soldiers who had flooded your office, crying for their mothers, and the thoughts of both Ghost and Price so tiring. You were giddy to finally be able to curl up into your bunk, drifting off into a dreamless sleep before your day would repeat at dawn.

And that was exactly what you had planned to do, to forget the days contents and reset and rest for the next.

But there Ghost was, at your door and telling you something, his words lost on you as you stared at him, balaclava pulled securely in place. Your eyes were fixed on his shoulders, right where you'd touched.

He beckoned you on to follow after him, and you wanted to plant your feet to the floor. To tell him no, to tell him that you had better things to do than to get fucked by him tonight.

Of course, you didn't do any of that.

Instead, you followed his lead, not asking a single question the entire way.

[nnnyxie]

INSPIRATION STRUCK

Nurse!Izu x underground fighter!reader

Idk how I got this idea tbh but like imagine the reader being a really good fighter but usually getting underestimated because of their cute appearance 🤭 so they beat their opponents ass every time

But ofc their opponents get hits in too so they go to get patched up by their fave boy~ reader is maybe a little more bold or flirty and Izu is just super scared and worried for them always scolding them for getting hurt

Something like that :) yeah you get it!! #𖢥 izuku anon

the way i’m eating this up like it’s thanksgiving dinner!!!!

I LOVE THIS!!!

(also just a psa there is quite a bit swearing, idk if that should be a warning for my stuff atp though… also the reader is referred to as a ‘bitch’ in case that makes anyone uncomfy!! i, personally, get disgusted when woman are referred to as ‘bitches’ in a derogatory way. but, that’s my opinion.)

you’re a major ass kicker, first and foremost.

since it’s all ‘underground’ there’s no recording or pictures allowed (they turn in electronics at the front)

soooo when people talk about this cute fighter that kicks names and takes ass (/ref), they don’t believe it!!

people think it’s a ‘myth’ and when they see you, the sweet fighter with a shit ton of injuries, they’re like ‘no fuckin way’ and just like,,, underestimate you.

which ofc makes you pissed (i’d be mad honestly) so, you go ham on their bitch asses!!!

and that ultimately results in your knuckles getting split and bloody. as well as the other person but who cares about them!!!

but, it’s the perfect excuse to see your favorite nurse with pretty green eyes and freckles all over his face!!

and while he loves seeing you as well, he hates that the only time he does is when you’re all bloody and bruised. izu wants to see when you’re… not that…

you’re usually in his office 4 times a week— which is very impressive since it used to be every day.

“you need to properly clean your wounds! and i told you to take a week break from fighting so they’d heal back up!” izuku sighs in frustration and worry. he’s, once again, wrapping your knuckles.

“i know i should but, it’s nice being able to come in ‘nd see your cute face when you get frustrated.” you flirt— trying to both ease the tension and show interest. he didn’t find it too amusing. though, he was slightly flustered at the compliment.

you were bold and flirty, yes. but that didn’t mean you were any good!!!

“i don’t exactly know why you chose fighting or anything but— it’s frustrating to see you damaging yourself like this.” you shake this statement off. saying something along the lines of ‘i just like it’ ‘i don’t mind the damages’

he’s always fussing over you and it’s truly endearing. he’s never like that with his other patients, besides bakugo. except— with bakugo he’s more aggressive. though, it’s only cause they’re lifelong friends.

anyways.

there’s this one time where you came in really bruised and bloody.

see— the underground ring doesn’t separate by gender or weight.

and they have fighters compete to rise to the top.

during this fight.

you went against bakugo— it was a rough one. the both of you were covered in sweat, spit, and blood.

the two of you had bruises everywhere. your stomach mainly— he landed a lot of kicks there.

“what the hell happened!?” izuku basically screamed when you walked in. “oh you know… the usual…” you laughed awkwardly, trying to hold up your ‘i’m totally not in agonizing pain’ facade.

“you usually don’t come in like this— what happened?” he sat you on the nursing bed, trying not to be too rough. “uhh well, my fight was against a pretty strong opponent. would’ve kicked his ass if that bitch didn’t pull that dirty move.” he sighs and shakes his head. “who was it?” “i don’t remember his real name. goes by dynamight or something. he was super aggressive though. had spiky blond hair. kept saying ‘i’m gonna kick your ass’ and ‘die, bastard’. just shit like that.” izuku groans and whispers ‘oh my fucking god’— knowing exactly who you’re talking about.

“that was quite the reaction… you know the guy or somethin’?” you laugh a little. “uh yeah. he’s kind of my best friend.” your eyes nearly pop out of your skull— “how—? you’re like— total opposites! you’re so pretty and sweet!! and he’s… none of that.” your face twisted a bit, recalling how bakugo snarled like a feral animal and was basically foaming at the mouth. izuku’s face flushed at your comment—

did you really think that about him? you really think he’s,,, pretty??

“well uhm… we’ve been friends since we were kids so… it’s something i’m used to i guess.” izuku whispered, he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how red he was. “that’s unfortunate for you.” you let out a laugh, and tried taking a peak at his face. you thought it was cute when he got all flustered and shy.

before you could tease him, you heard your name being called for a rematch against bakugo since he pulled the dirty move. “ahh looks like i gotta go. i’ll see you afterwards! hopefully not too beat up this time!” you smiled and ran out the room before he could stop you.

another fight went on. this time the ref paid closer attention— making sure no dirty cards were played.

bakugo was brutal. he didn’t go easy on any opponents and you respected him for that— or, at least, you used to respect him. knowing that he fights dirty made you rage.

you gave cuteness aggression a whole new meaning as you pummeled his ass. the fight was very close. neither of you wanted to back down.

izuku watched through one of the entrances. he always watches your fights— bakugo’s as well. and in this fight, he was rooting for you.

you and bakugo were slumped over but still held a fighting stance. bakugo said something to you— something izuku couldn’t hear or lip read. and whatever he said had made you angry— angrier than before.

you launched yourself at him and went against your code of honor. you pulled nasty tricks and the ref was quick to stop the fight.

it was clear you’d lost.

rematches happen only once and you fucked it up all because bakugo pissed you off.

you walk back into izuku’s office— both angry and sad. honestly, you were embarrassed by your actions. you hated how you went against your morals.

“oh my god— are you okay!?” izuku, once again, pulled you to the nursing bed. “yeah. ‘m fine.” you mumbled, which wasn’t a ‘you’ thing to do.

“what did bakugo say?” he grabbed his essentials as you sat down. “aw izu, do you watch my matches?” you cooed and smiled. which kind of hurt because of your busted lip. “uhm… well uh… yeah… i try to watch as many of them as i can…” he whispered, walking over to you with his supplies in hand.

you honestly would’ve teased him about this more but, you remembered how embarrassing your fight was. and you wanted to crawl into a hole.

“…so what did he say?” izuku asked again. he was persistent. which you loved about him but, right now you sort of disliked. “it’s just… stupid.” he frowned and began wrapping your hand. “it’s not stupid if it made you that upset. you can tell me. just because he’s my friend, doesn’t mean i’ll defend his actions.” he assured you, running a thumb over your sore knuckles. “he…”

you sighed, “he said, ‘stop being a dumb bitch and take the loss already’.”

you hated being called a bitch. you hated being looked down upon. it angered you. it brought out a fire inside you that couldn’t be extinguished without a more than decent beating.

izuku’s face was one of disgust— he knew bakugo was brash but, he was disgusted that he’d ever call a woman that. “i know it’s dumb to get upset about but— he called me a bitch! how was i not supposed to get angry!? he called me a dumb bitch! he degraded me and made me look fucking stupid.” you grew angry again. the embarrassment shied away. “you have every right to be upset about that. it’s disgusting that he said what he did. i didn’t realize he could be like that. i’m sorry.” “don’t apologize for his shitty actions. you did nothing wrong, izu.”

you sighed and let out a quiet yelp.

your anger and embarrassment had clouded your pain entirely. “i think i’m in lots of pain.”

after a long clean and wrap up, you were okay to leave for home.

“you should actually take time to rest. your physical state isn’t fit for fighting. honestly you should actually be on bed rest.” izuku helped you off the nursing table, making sure you didn’t land on the ground too hard. “but that means i can’t see you,” you spoke in a genuine voice. you weren’t teasing or flirting.

you were being dead serious. it was something izuku wasn’t used to. there were times where you had been serious, of course. but, it was never over something like this. it’d usually be directed towards matches and opponents. but, this time it was different.

“i— well… i mean, you can! uhm— hold on!” he rushed to rip a corner of paper off from a document and to grab a pen. he scribbled down his number messily. it was hardly legible. luckily, over the past two years of him helping you, you were able to decipher his writing.

he handed it to you, his face was red. not like the cutesy pinkish-red but, full on sweat-red.

“wow izu… when did you get so bold? i like it.”

i hope this is what you were looking forrrr

i had fun w/ this !!

[asylumdwellermoved]

YOU! YOU'RE BACK! (you probably don't remember me we only talked, like, once, but hello xjbx)

ANYWAY UM UH what about a reader/PC seducing* Harper and getting more than what they asked for

* (could be intentional or could be Harper going "they are CLEARLY looking at me like that because they want something, yeah?")

(I REMEMBER YOU YOUR BLOG IS ONE OF MY FAVS TO LURK ON

leaning somewhat into the second option bc i love the contrast of manipulative freaks being equally delusional <3

gn!reader, gn!harper, dub/noncon)

"So, how have you been feeling?"

A newfound hesitance replaces your usual quickness to answer. You watch the bright eyes in front of you shift, possibly noticing a dullness in them that you hadn't before. Before you can wonder if it's your mind playing tricks on you, you clear your throat and smile.

"Good...! Been doing a little better lately..."

The doctor smiles back at you, clasping their hands together. "I'm glad! I assume you've been doing those techniques I gave you last week?"

You nod, trying to let the rumors swimming in your head fade to just the back of your mind as you automatically respond to their questions.

You had been seeing Dr. Harper on Fridays for a good few weeks now. Up until recently, you had been perfectly comfortable. It was nice having someone to talk to, even if they were just doing their job. You have absolutely no memory of anything bad happening in any of your sessions. It was only when you had mentioned your recent help to Sydney and saw their skin bristle and received a vague warning in response that you started to worry. Mickey remarking on the doctor's "problems" not long after definitely didn't help. You knew how dangerous this town could be, and you definitely didn't want to be on the bad side of anyone holding your physical well being above your head.

"And that recent spat with that person at your school that you told me about last week? How did that go?"

"Ah, well... they put out a cigarette on me yesterday, so I kind of feel like it's a lost cause..."

If you just... suck up to them it should be fine, right? They seem at least somewhat reasonable. Bat your eyes at them and butter them up a little, and you should be airtight.

Their eyebrows furrow in concern. "Can I see the wound?"

You nod, hesitantly unbuttoning the top of your shirt to give easier access to the burn on your collarbone.

"A few more, please? I'm going to wipe it down and apply some vitamin E gel so that it heals a bit better, I need a little more space."

You oblige, trying not to look bothered, the collar of your shirt now draping over your shoulder. They get to work on gently cleaning your wound. You choose your next words carefully.

"Hey, Dr. Harper..." You don't realize how close they are until you feel the heat of your own breath coming back onto you when you speak.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for everything. Really. I've been doing a lot better lately, and I couldn't have got here without you."

A smile crosses their lips and they hum in contentment. "You're very sweet."

"I appreciate it a lot. At this point, I don't know what I'd do without you..."

You wince a little as that last part comes out, worried you'd be pushing things. You see the look in their eyes change and you freeze. They turn their formerly fixed gaze to your face. It looks almost like it flipped some sort of switch in them.

"I'm very glad to hear that."

You flinch from the feeling of the cold gel on your skin.

"You know, just between us... You're my favorite patient."

You double take.

"A-Am I really?" You feign a smile at their strange remark.

They light up at your reaction. "Yes, really. I'm happy that the feeling's mutual."

Wait... what?

You stiffen a bit, unsure what to say. You notice that their hand is ghosting further and further from the blistering as they touch your skin. And did another button come loose?

"That said, you can come to me for anything. When you're hurt, when you're anxious, when you're upset, when you're... flustered..."

They've gotten closer. The faint hospital smell on their clothes mixed with a slight unplaceable scent feels near suffocating now. When you feel their fingers twitch a bit you notice their hands haven't left your skin.

Ah. So this is what they meant. Not the Bailey kind of scary. Something entirely different.

They hesitate for a second, but waste no time in pressing their lips against yours, pulling you into them and quickly darting their tongue out, trying to force it in. You suddenly feel smothered at the feeling of what control you had being pulled out from under you.

"Dr. Harper-...!"

They pull back, shuddering at the sound of their name on your lips before putting a hand between your legs, a heavy heat of their own pressing against your thigh, grinding softly.

"If I knew I could do this while you were lucid, I would've a long time ago..." They give a breathless giggle like it was some sort of joke, looking straight at you but showing no recognition of the horror on your face.

The look softens as you start to squirm at their touch, watching their eyes flick to your lips again when a gasp slips out. They lean in again, peppering soft, closed-mouth kisses against your lips like they weren't slipping their fingers beneath your clothes to try to get you off at the same time.

"Shhh, I need you to stay quiet for me... Don't worry, when I make sure we have some time all to ourselves soon you can be as loud as you want..." They coo at you almost like they're consoling a child.

The pleasure-induced haze in your brain keeps you from dwelling on what they mean as they keep teasing you, playing with one of your nipples through your open shirt and closely watching your reactions as they pant and moan against your ear. Unable to stop from eventually reaching your peak, you writhe against them helplessly, unconsciously bucking into their hand. A shaky gasp escapes their throat and you notice a warm, wet patch had grown on the fabric against your thigh. Your stomach turns a bit.

They lock their lips with yours again, breathing heavy through their nose, only pulling away when it starts to slow. They stare at you in what looks like a strange sort of... adoration? As they bring their fingers to their lips, slowly dragging their tongue through the mess you made. Their glazed over, half lidded eyes widen a bit when they look at the clock. "Ah- I didn't even notice the time."

They walk back to their desk, nonchalantly sitting back down, rifling through their papers before pulling a pen out. The second you get the chance, you walk out on shaky legs without saying a word.

"Client exhibiting potentially self-endangering behavior. Institutionalize at next availability."

[voxmortuus]

Hello!! Can I request Will Graham or Hannibal x fem!reader? Reader is a nurse and she helps him in an injury or something but he goes batshit crazy in love with her and stalks her and eventualy kidnapps her??

►PAIRING: Will Graham X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 1k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►SONG INSPIRATION: Obsessed by Elle Lexxa ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mention of injury | Hospital | Blood | Will goes crazy | Stalking Will | Will Kidnaps Reader | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

"Y/N, you have a patient in room 207. Head injury of some sort, superficial. Dr. Humphrey said to go ahead and clean him up, get his vitals and go ahead and send him home." the charge nurse told you. She gave you the chart and sent you off in that direction. Going through things all you wanted to do was go home.

Honestly, you were exhausted, and the idea of a hot shower, your favorite pair of sweatpants and tank top, followed by a bottle of your favorite brand of wine, some chicken wings, and binge-watching that show you've been meaning to watch sounded like a fantastic idea. That... that was the dream. But, right now, that was not reality.

"Hello, Mister..." you take a moment to look at the chart as you lick your lips. "Graham. A head injury I see here. Luckily it's nothing too serious. Nothing a little cleaning up and bandage can't fix. Then we'll send you on your way." You state looking over him for the first time. He was sweet looking, like a battered stray puppy. You tilt your head and let out a soft breath before you check out the wound on his forehead.

As Will is gazing up at you as you step close, he can't help but be in utter awe of you. How your eyes are shaped and the depth of their color of them, your nose seems to have that perfect shape, and your lips move when you speak. The way your voice sounded was like music to his ears and your complexion was absolutely lovely. It was the way your hair fell, and your scent, it was intoxicating in its own way. Though yes, you may have looked exhausted, but it was at that moment, he had this undying need to take care of you, to make you feel like you need not a car in the world.

Will watched you so intently, listening as you spoke, and when your hands came to his skin, he smiled softly. "Your hands are very pleasant." He stated softly.

"Excuse me?" You ask, the compliment took you off guard.

"Your hands, they aren't cold like most, they're very warm, it's a nice change." He stated.

"Oh... well... thank you, Mr. Graham. Now please, stop moving. I need to tend to this okay?" you give a soft chuckle, your eyes soften, and your aura relaxes.

"Oh, yes, sorry." He stated lowly and watches your face as you work.

Finishing up, you toss your gloves in the trash along with the items you used to clean up the wound on his head. Looking over him you offer a kind smile. Your smile, it was something that was really sticking with him. It was just you. Love at first sight, some would say, but to him, you had become an obsession. He needed to know everything was to know about you. He needed to know how you took your coffee, how you smelt after a shower, how soft your skin was after lotion, what you wore when you weren't at home, and how you cut your food, it was the simple things that drove him mad with needing to know.

He started to follow you. He began to learn your routine. Where you got gas for your car, what floor of your apartment you lived on, what time you went to bed, and when you went to work. He learned all of the little details. It was all so simple in his mind.

It wasn't like you knew, you were so involved in yourself and your work you didn't think to pay attention to your surroundings. And when he could have struck any time, he decided that his obsession was starting to consume him. He was dreaming of you, he was following you to the grocery store and would get behind you in line just to smell your hair.

You were that one thing he couldn't let escape his mind. He didn't want you to escape his mind. He damn well knew what he wanted. He had dreamt of it.

One night you were out of work, and instead of getting to your car, he approached you from behind, and with a rag he had used chloroform on he placed it over your mouth and nose, and after a few brief moments of inhalation you had passed out. Your body falls limp in his grasp, putting you in the back of his vehicle.

He didn't take you back to his place, instead, he took you to someplace he knew no one would come snooping. Not even Hannibal was going to come looking for you. He knew who you talked to, who you avoided, no one was coming. The thing is, he wasn't set out to murder you, he was obsessed with you, and he was going to do anything in his power to make you love him.

Once you were tied to the chair he sat across the room watching you, but it was taking a fair bit of time to wake you up. He watched, and watched, but nothing. Growing antsy he got up, and decorated the room around you, with flowers and nice things. Coffee- fresh even. Biting his lip he waited, and at that moment he heard you stir he moved to you.

"Wh...where am I?" you asked.

"Hi, I don't know if you remem-"

"Graham... head injury, why am I here? What happened?" you ask.

"I needed you. I have fresh coffee, flowers, and snacks..." he points out

"No, you needed me? Coffee, flowers, snacks... why am I tied up. Graham..." you start to panic

"No, no relax, I'm not going to hurt you I promise. You're safe, I promise, please, call me Will." He stated with a kind smile... damn a loving smile.

"Relax?! I'm tied up in some stranger's home! LET ME GO!" you demand.

"No, no, please, You don't have anyone else. I promise. You won't want to go home after this. Relax. Okay? I'll show you." He nodded.

This was the start of something utterly insane, he hoped that maybe you were going to love him, that you would stay, and maybe in time you did, or you managed to escape, or he let you go, the end is unforeseen, but it's not like you cannot dream of what the future for you holds.

[hebuiltfive]

HEBUILTFIVE TURNS ONE!?

I made this blog account a year ago today, which blows my mind (how has it already been a year???), and so I thought I'd post something to celebrate!

Before I made this account, I'd already started writing Thunderbirds Fanfiction. This story never got finished beyond the inital drafts, but I thought I'd share the first part of the first 'chapter' for the first birthday of this blog. It seemed fitting!

It is not great, oh my god it is terrible, and the science in it is awful, but! I hope it's at least a fun read! There is more of this that I might post at a later date, if I pluck up the courage, but for now...

International Rescue, We Have A Situation!

It was just a scratch. 

Gordon didn’t know what all the fuss was about, because yes, a fuss was being made, and much to his chagrin. So what if he’d had a little rendezvous with a pointy rock face? He’d survived, hadn’t he? He was convinced it wasn’t that bad of an injury, complaining the moment he’d been prodded and poked and examined. His older brother, the cause of the prodding, poking and examining, however, disagreed.

“Ow! Will you stop that?” Gordon was in two minds to just jump off the infirmary bed and pull his top back on, hiding the wound behind fabric to stop being tampered with. He knew it would have been pointless, however. His brother would have just stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Stop whining and stay still.” Virgil, the older brother who was currently tending to the gash down Gordon’s side, ordered. “You are, without doubt, the worst patient ever. And I’ve had to treat Scott.”

Scott Tracy, the eldest of the Tracy brothers, was notorious for being difficult in similar situations. Much like Gordon, he would have refused to admit that something was wrong, and would have insisted he was fine without the need for worry.

“No, you’re just being fussy.” Even as he said it, Gordon knew that hadn’t been a fair comment to make. Despite his moaning, he knew deep down that Virgil had every right to be fussing over him, even if he didn’t want to admit that to himself. 

He barely remembered the flight home, and even Gordon knew that was something to worry about. Though the aquanaut had insisted on staying in the co-pilot seat of Thunderbird 2, Gordon silently regretted not taking his older brother up on laying in one of the beds in the hold. 

The whole flight back his head had pounded, sharp pains lancing through even at the slightest of movements. No concussion, Virgil had declared after a quick check over, and no vital damage from where the aquanaut had collided with the rock face, their brother John had confirmed from a quick scan from Thunderbird 5. 

Thus, Gordon had been spared from Virgil’s mother-henning until they had arrived back on Tracy Island, whereupon he had been whisked away to the infirmary upon landing, and before their grandmother could worry. That was the last thing Gordon needed. Virgil, he could deal with. Grandmother Tracy was a whole other ballgame.

“That stings!” Gordon flinched as Virgil cleaned the wound. He’d been lucky it hadn’t been deeper. The force at which he’d collided with the rock face had been dangerous, or at least that’s what John had told him on the flight back. In all honesty, Gordon couldn’t remember most of it.

He remembered going out to Belize; a seaquake had caused a submersible to go off course. Full of scientists, it had developed a ruptured hull and was threatening to take on water. John had been worried the quake had been man-made and had warned both him and Virgil to be careful. From there, Gordon remembered going down in Thunderbird 4 to retrieve the scientists on board the submersible. He remembered being on the look out for any signs of unusual activity to suggest a man-made cause for the quake, and then… it got blurry. 

How exactly had he ended up outside of his ‘bird? What had caused him to crash into the rocks?

“Hey, Virg?”

Virgil hummed in response as he finished up on his brother’s wound, a go-ahead for Gordon to continue his question.

“What actually happened down there?”

His brother stepped away, taking the various used cotton pads, scissors and tape to the counter nearby Gordon’s bed to sort through. “You were flung into the rocks with quite some force.”

“Yeah, I gathered, but how did I end up outside Thunderbird 4?”

Virgil paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t remember?”

In answer, Gordon shook his head, and pulled on his top now that Virgil had finally finished nursing the wound. From the way the aquanaut sat, casual and calm, anyone who didn’t know Gordon would assume he was unbothered by it, and that he was just curious, but Virgil knew his brother. He could see the confusion, see that he needed to know all elements of what went wrong down there so he could piece everything together for himself. If he couldn’t remember properly then perhaps his little brother had taken more of a hit than Virgil previously thought.

“The scientists were trapped. Thunderbird 4 couldn’t open the door properly, so you had to go out and manually wench it open.” The elder of the two began to explain, dropping the used items into the trashcan beside the counter, and putting the metal utensils into the sink for disinfection at a later date. He then made his way back to Gordon’s bedside. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be risky.” Virgil continued. “Well, not more so than usual. You had got them all out and into Thunderbird 4. You were about to get back in yourself when John warned us of an aftershock. You couldn’t get back inside in time, and that’s how you ended up dancing with the rocks.”

Gordon remembered it all then. It was Virgil’s yell through the comms that haunted his thoughts as the memory of the accident replayed. Stuck in the big ‘bird high above the sea, there was nothing his older brother could have done but wait as the radio silence from Gordon answered him. Pain lanced through the aquanaut’s side as the memory of the collision returned. He winced. “Did I find anything down there?”

“Other than the rocks?” Virgil joked. He wasn’t usually one for making light of injuries or accidents, but his little brother seemed like he could use the tension easing. It worked; Gordon cracked a smile. Virgil continued. “If you mean about it being man-made, no. There was nothing down there to suggest those quakes were anything but natural.”

“But John said—“

“John is like the rest of us, Squid. He doesn’t always get it right.”

Something didn’t sit well with Gordon, however. Just because there was something at the scene of the crime didn’t mean there was no further explanation to be had. It felt like there was a missing piece to the jigsaw that was laid out before him. A dull ache had him out of his thoughts in a heartbeat, hand gently pressing to the bandaged wound on his side.

“You’ll be out of action for a few days. I’m tempted to make it a week, just to be sure you’re healed.” Virgil decreed with a nod.

“What? A week? Virgil, no! I’m fine! You saw to the scratch. I can be back on duty by tomorrow.”

“That, little brother, is wishful thinking.” He ruffled the blonde tresses atop Gordon’s head, and made to leave the infirmary, calling back. “No heavy lifting or straining that side, bro, else I’ll have Grandma fix you up next time.”

No doubt with a batch of her famously indigestible cookies to help him ‘heal quicker’. It was enough to make Gordon shiver, and keep him in line.

[star2fishmeg]

Hi!! I don’t know if you do requests anymore or not but anyway I’ll ask for one for High & low the worst. Fujio and Todoroki love triangle with reader, who alos happens to be Todorokis ex. Basically this is the main idea, maybe they have a fight or something to decide on who gets to have reader. Which happens after Todoroki sees Fujio and reader, being together and hearing people say how they fit with each-other. Thank you for your time. And obviously love your writing!!!

ᴍʀ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛsɪᴅᴇ

Pairing: Hanaoka Fujuo x f!reader, mentions of Todoroki Yosuke x ex!reader

Summary: Focusing on the wrong things in life makes people leave, and Todoroki found that out the hard way. Now he must watch his ex-girlfriend leave the gates with his rival, Fujio Hanaoka; the boy he lost to twice.

Warnings: Todoroki angst, mentions of blood, fighting, fluff

Authors note: Thank you so much for being patient, I’m sincerely sorry it took so long! And thank you for the detailed request, it helped so much with writing (writers block has been awful). This turned out to be more of a Fujio fic but writing has no limits so it’s all good. I hope you enjoy!

Authors note II: I’m kinda experimenting with the presentation of my works atm like the banners for example (especially if I want to branch out who I write for, I like the design different for each fandom) so it’s gonna look a bit inconsistent for a bit, I do apologise. I might switch to writing in 2nd person, but I’ll have to see what people think first :)

Request: above!

Romance is nothing to fear, it’s something that can make one stronger as it brings the heart someone to fight for – a purpose. It brings a sense of reality yet also this loss of senses and rose-tinted glasses. The day y/n l/n rocked up at Oya High one afternoon, flying through the halls like a hurricane all to give Yasushi one hell of a bitch slapping was the day Todoroki felt his chest tighten. Why was she so destructive? Yasushi was supposed to help her clean her garage out but he never showed. Todoroki felt smitten after that, offering up acts of service and freeing Yasushi from his unwillingly made plans (which was him being told that he was going to help y/n with something and him having no excuse to back out).

Their first date was an accidental one. Y/n had just finished patching up Todoroki’s wounds after a scuffle and they ended up watching movies her room. Both fell asleep tucked under a blanket, arms creeping around each other and legs getting tangled, waking up to smiles instead of some awkward atmosphere. Their second date ended up being sat by a river, Yosuke fishing while y/n read her book. She remembered vividly for a while; it was the first time Yosuke spoke of Fujio Hanaoka.

“Murayama thinks I don’t have what it takes to be a leader, what do you think?” he spoke, keeping his eyes on his bait.

Y/n didn’t look up either, “If you’re trying to overpower him, then I agree with him. If you’re trying to lead the full-timers exclusively, then I still agree.” She placed her book face down on the grass, pulling her knees to her chest, “Don’t take this the wrong way, you’re strong, an amazing fighter and intelligent, all good qualities but you’re not exactly charismatic. What’s brought this up?”

“There’s a guy who just transferred, his name’s Fujio Hanaoka. Everyone seems to get along with him so quickly, without force. He wants to be top dog, but he hasn’t asserted his strength. I want to know what he has that I don’t.”

“Charisma, by the sounds of it. Some people don’t have to assert their dominance to have people follow them. All they need to do is help others realise a better way of doing things.” He didn’t reply after that, just continued to fish in silence. It wasn’t much of a date, but they both enjoyed it regardless.

The third date happened later in the year, in the winter. Oya was quieter, and so was the brawling. Yosuke and y/n spent the evening at the local festival, and that was the happiest night of his life. At the time. Eleven at night, by the lake, under the stars. Silence had coated the nearby houses and only the distance music from the festival echoed. Y/n’s hands gripped Yosuke’s for the warmth, and his heart thundered in his chest at her pink cheeks. He was supposed to be strong yet there he was folding over for a girl he met a year ago who slapped Yasushi halfway across the room. He hesitated, eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips, lips to her eyes, eyes to her lips until he was being pulled roughly by his collar down. The kiss was sweet and warm, like honey, easy to melt into. It didn’t last too long, but long enough that when they pulled away, he dove back in for more. That was the most painful day of his life.

__

Two months ago, y/n l/n waited outside the gates of Oya Highschool, impatiently texting Yosuke Todoroki on his whereabouts and assuming he was busy. Two months ago, y/n and Yosuke sat in an outdoor cinema, talking shit about a film neither of them particularly liked nor found remotely interesting. Two months ago, Yosuke obsessed over surpassing Murayama, instead of focusing on his own life and the people who cared for him, the girl who patched him up every time he got injured. And she left him. Explained that they just weren’t going to work, their goals were too different, ideals incompatible and that he clearly cared more about a reputation and role he was never cut out for in the first place. Two months later, y/n stood outside Oya’s gate, but not for him. Never for him again. Fujio Hanaoka jogged over to her, sweeping off her feet into a bear hug with a grin. He was never late for her, he always left anything early so he wouldn’t be late. Todoroki’s jaw clenched, his breaths becoming deep.

Full-timers briefly glanced out what was left of the window, nonchalantly gossiping to one another watching their leader give his girlfriend a peck on her cheek before making his leave.

“Damn, that Fujio’s so lucky dude. I want someone to look at me the way they look at each other.”

“Y/n super chill too, ‘dunno where she was hidin’ two months ago. I spoke to her the other day, gave me tips on how to keep my hair healthy with all the bleach in it. Now it’s not yellow, in my pretty blond boy era.” Yeah, Todoroki knew all that anyway, they once dated. He knew everything all the guys talked about. He began to believe if people started admiring her just to taunt him, as if it didn’t kept him up at night enough as it was. He was no idiot, he was the strongest among the full-timers, he'd physically beaten Fujio before but time and time again Todoroki kept losing everything he desired to him; control and now a woman who could tolerate his lifestyle. He turned and stormed away, blocking out the sounds of people calling his name, through the halls and out the gate, home. Alone. His norm since she left.

Meanwhile, Fujio sat at the bar of y/n’s family pub, watching his girlfriend attend customers with hearts in his eyes and a childish grin on his lips. His chest swelled around her, always had since the day he met her, which he remembered vividly as if it were a film replaying in his head. It was a Friday afternoon, warm and bright, but y/n stood outside Oya’s gates furiously typing on her phone with tears welling in her pretty eyes. Fujio had just returned from a fight, bruised and bleeding but the pain in his face didn’t hurt as much as the aching in his chest. He sauntered in her direction, gently making his presence know, but as he had opened his mouth to speak, she looked up at him and witnessed a vase of flowers shatter at his feet. His pain was nothing compared to what her eyes were screaming at him. And that was the day the little boy in Fujio grew up and promised he’d make her smile again.

“You alright, ‘jio?” Y/n leant over the bar towards him, eyes smiling directly at him. He never expected that they’d end up like that, he just wanted to help her feel better but before he knew it, he was agreeing to date her, and he was glad she confessed because he still believed that he would’ve fumbled his confession.

He grinned, “With you here, always. Was just thinking about you, is all.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she paused, “I still remember the day we met. I had just called it quits with Todoroki and you had just won a fight. Despite the pain you were in, you made the effort to make sure I felt better. You’re really kind, y’know, unconditionally. I love that about you.”

“I could take a thousand beatings, but I wouldn’t feel a thing if I could see your smile. You heal me.” Y/n flicked his forehead, rolling her eyes but smiling, nevertheless, before attending a customer. Fujio’s phone buzzed on the counter, Todoroki’s name popping up. His thumb hovered over the notification, he always assumed it was more likely that Murayama would fight him than Yosuke ever dropping him a text so casually, he wasn’t even sure how he had his number.

Courtyard, tomorrow. We need to talk.

Fujio shrugged, replying dryly because whatever he wanted was not to end peacefully, they were full-time Oya High student after all. And Fujio knew that he’d added salt to a wound (in which wasn’t really his fault). He never really understood why Todoroki hated him so much, he didn’t really do anything in his eyes, except maybe uniting the full-timers making them follow him and not Todoroki and except maybe date his ex-girlfriend. Aside that, he was nothing but friendly. Y/n walked back over, placing freshly washed glasses back onto the shelves. Oya High students were not easy to manage, but they also weren’t difficult to love either. They weren’t criminals or hooligans; they were largely a group of guys who grew up rough and came together for a place to belong away from the world. They deserved to be loved too.

“You good, hot shot?”

He closed his phone and gave a small smile, “Yeah, just Seiji.”

__

There are some things in life worth fighting for, worth getting injured over and worth enduring any sort of pain for. It’s a natural human response to fight for what you believe in and for what you love, why would you not? If you truly believe that there isn’t anything in life worth the energy, then you haven’t lived or been given the chance to fully embrace and consume something at full capacity. It’s natural for people to love other people, and for this love to trigger other emotions to protect it, it’s because we are scared to lose something that made us so unbelievably bliss that we’re willing to endure any kind of pain if it meant it would be safe.

Fujio’s steps were lazy when he strolled into the courtyard, hands in his pockets and shoes kicking the dirt. The moment he saw Todoroki brooding alone he had two assumptions running through his head: fight or a series of intellectual metaphors he wouldn’t be able to understand immediately. He hoped it was option one. Todoroki tensed, which wasn’t common for someone like him, but considering the topic of the matter he had every right to be on his guard.

“Yo, ‘Doroki! What’s this about?” Fujio called with a laugh, stopping an appropriate distance away.

“What do you have that I don’t?” He grumbled.

Fujio smiled, raising his eyebrows, and shaking his head, “What? Is this about being leader again-“

“No. It’s about y/n. All I hear is about how perfect you two are and frankly it’s annoying. You found her at her most vulnerable the played the hero. That’s what this is about. What do you have that I clearly don’t?” he spat. Yosuke Todoroki, seething over a girl. What an Oya thing. An unpredictable move on him.

Fujio shook his head and just laughed, practically unable to keep himself stable and wishing Tsukasa were there to enjoy it. “Why don’t you just ask her yourself? No need to be embarrassed that you got dumped, bro. Besides, I never intended to date her, some things just happen.” He pulled his hands out his pockets and balled them into a fist when Todoroki took his glasses off. Now they were getting to the best part, but also the ridiculous part. Fighting over a woman? Sounds like Oya behaviour.

Yosuke took the first lunge, in his usual manner of swinging his fist into the jaw, only to be caught by Fujio and dodged. Meanwhile y/n’s shoes slammed against the concrete up to Oya, cheeks pink and giving her best attempt at controlling her breathing. Upon seeing a notification pop up on Fujio’s location, she had sighed and thought the worst and took off to find him. He wouldn’t have dropped his location if he hadn’t wanted her to know where he was going. And she wouldn’t have dropped everything and made a break for it if she hadn’t known what that location drop meant – a petty scrap, in her eyes, but it meant he wanted collecting.

By the time she rounded the gate, chest heaving and feet sore, Fujio had received a kick nicely enough to wiggle out of it. “Fuck’s sake!” y/n groaned, loud enough for Fujio to pause, face dropping as if he’d been caught doing something unspeakable. Backing away, he placed his bloody hands in his pockets and attempted to pull one of his puppy-like faces at the woman. Todoroki – in his usual manner – scoffed, shaking his fists, and rolling his eyes, slightly stumbling before catching his balance again.

“You two have been insufferable, you know that?” y/n marched towards them, her fists balling. If there was one thing Fujio feared, it was the wrath of a woman, especially one who was let down by the guy who basically just lost to him (he liked to believe that due to Todoroki’s wobbly balance). Standing face to face with him, y/n gently picked the glasses from Todoroki’s pocket and slid them over his nose, straightening his collar. She kept her cold gaze, sighing while he pursed his lips as if he were waiting for something good to happen, like a change of heart, or a confession he’d dreamed about, one which went something like ‘I’m sorry for leaving, I still love you, Yosuke.’

But it never came, she just shook her head lightly, stepping back, “Todoroki, stop it. Leave him alone. You fucked up, take the responsibility for once, it’s why you’ll never be a leader.” She spoke softly, the disappointment laced in her words strangled his throat, stomach dropping at the confirmation that he’d truly lost to Fujio, and it was his fault. He watched her and the other boy walk out the gates and down the street, tears welling in his eyes as his mind swapped out Fujio’s figure for his, replaying the memory again as if he hadn’t thought about it every day. Another loss to Yosuke Todoroki.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged in future H&L content, just lemme know :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu

Dedicated to @straysugzhpe who gave me the energy boost to write and post this and the rest of the h&l community and their works, love and support goes out to those who had their work stolen and plagiarised <3

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

2023 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise, translate, repost, copy any of my works. If you notice that any of these have been done to my work, please let me know.

[somerandomjewelleryonthefloor]

4 for Solcheal and 6 for Calrin from the kiss prompts

Where it hurts/on a falling tear, BET.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Solchael- kiss where it hurts...

"ouch... Ugh..." I rubbed my face as I got off the asphalt.

While skateboarding in the parking lot, the skateboard hit a small rock and stopped suddenly I was flying through the air, before then skidding across the ground... My cheek was scratched and cut, my lip hurt, and my forearm took most of the damage- with skin peeling off, and a big dirty cut.

Morgan went over and pulled me up by my shirt, getting me off the ground.

"okay, you need nurse joy, your forearm is gonna get infected... Shit..." She leaned down and looked at it more closely, looking at how scratched up it was, seeing the blood dripping out.

"that's a hotel for all infectious germs! Look at how big that is..."

"yeah, c'mon, don't try and tough it out like you usually try to..." Wes patted his my before pushing me towards the school.

I shook my injured arm, trying to shake the pain away as I walked inside and went towards the nurses office. Walking in, I was blinded by white fluorescent white, and white walls. It looked so sterile.

Nurse joy came up to me, sighing.

"hello again Michael, what did you do to yourself this time?" She asked.

I showed her my arm and told her what happened, and she tsked, giving a disappointed head shake.

"Michael, you got to take care of yourself, if you know you can mess up yourself by falling off that skateboard of yours, you need to wear thicker protective clothing. I'm sick of your face" she then patted my shoulder before walking off to grab bandages and medical tape, I could only assume.

I sat down at one of the various chairs in the office, I looked at the pristine clean area around me. I shook my forearm as it stung as I waited, reaching out and grabbing a fidget cube from the tiny basket full of toys on the table beside me. I was clicking all the buttons in one hand continuously, shaking my leg as I waited as patiently as I could... This was hard...

After 5 minutes, Nurse Joy came back with medical tape and bandages. I put the fidget toy back as she gently grabbed my injured forearm and wrapped it in bandages, tying it after it completely covered my wound, before putting medical tape on top of it. She gently patted it before she left, coming back 2 minutes later with a damp cotton ball, it had an ointment that stung as she patted it on my scuffed cheek and lip. I tried not to move, clenching my left fist tight until she was done.

"now, I need to document you being here, again, and full out your late slip since lunch is about to end, so don't move." She said sternly, giving me a firm gaze before going to her computer.

As I heard the bell go off, My girlfriend came in the room

"I heard from Morgan you fucked yourself up..." She whispered, walking up to me. She gave Nurse Joy a quick greeting before coming up and grabbing my taped up arm. "Wow, medical tape? What did you do to yourself?..."

"I skidded on the asphalt outside." I whispered, almost mumbling.

"oh... Well, would a kiss help?" She asked, looking at me with her pretty amber eyes. I didn't believe in the 'love heals all' shit, but if it made her happy.

"knock yourself out." She wasted no time gently grabbing my face and giving my scuffed cheek and lip a kiss, before grabbing my bandaged up forearm and kissing the top of the medical tape.

It didn't do much, but I did feel somewhat better.

After getting my late slip and Nurse Joy telling me to 'gtfo', Solrin & I left to go to my locker and get my stuff for class...

*.·:·.✧ ✦*ੈ✩‧₊˚*+:｡.｡✧˚ · ..ೃ࿐*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Calrin- kiss on a falling tear

I snuggled up with Caleb as we looked at the TV.

I was casting a silent playthrough of 'Life is Strange', and it was honestly a pretty cool game, though Mark Jefferson should be dead and processed through a meat grinder. It was Chapter 5 we were watching, and I was holding onto his bicep.

"you are all that matters to me!" Max yelled, the thunder in the background struck.

"I know. You proved that over and over again... Even though I don't deserve it." Chloe sounded like she was breaking down as she continued, "I'm so selfish... Not like my mom... Look what she had to give up and live through..."

We were both watching intently. The lights were off in my house, and it was a silent day, so it made it more immersive hearing the background thunder and their voices... Poor Max & Chloe.

"she deserves so much more than to be killed by a storm in a fucking diner!"

As I watched, I could feel Caleb shifting. Putting his arm around me and bringing me closer, putting his head on mine as we watched. I looked up and saw him frowning at Max and Chloe's conversation...

"don't say that... I won't trade you!"

"you're not trading me. Maybe you've just been delaying my real destiny..."

Caleb took his head off of mine, and sat up. I could see his beautiful dark brown eyes looking glossy... Oh no... I could hear him sniffle when it got to the choice part, whether you "sacrifice Chloe" or "Sacrifice Arcadia Bay"... I knew Caleb was sensitive at times, but I could feel him shaking slightly like he was going to bawl.

When the person who was doing the silent playthrough chose Sacrifice Chloe, I could hear him breathe out deep. I patted his shoulder as I watched with him.

"being together this week... It was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for." Another sad line, before the one that completely broke him and my soul...

"and Max Caulfield? Don't you forget about me..."

"never."

When it went to Max looking at the first picture we saw her take, Caleb was bawling, and I was trying not to feel hurt by this game, though I couldn't as I was attached to Chloe's character.

When it went through the scene of all the pictures of Chloe burning up, of time being restored, I was rubbing Caleb's arm. We didn't exactly pay attention to anything else happening.

"I didn't expect to cry at a game... A-about 2 girls, photography, and... This..." He sniffled again, shaking as he cried.

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to a falling tear on his cheek.

"at the end of the day, though it hurts, it's still a video game... We can always watch different playthroughs and whatever..." I said to him, squeezing him like he was a teddy bear.

I kept kissing his cheek and nuzzled my face into his neck until I heard him giggle.

"okay okay, I get it..." He smiled at me, though his eyes were a little red and glossy as if it were porcelain. I have him one more squeeze.

"there's my golden boy" I held his face and gave his cheeks a squeeze.

We ended up calming down after that emotionally damaging game, and watched something far more funny...

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Tags: @lover-also-fighter-also

[melevesxence]

rose-scented candles

Felix Robane x Fem!Healer!Reader

level — ii

thesis — Felix always seems to be hurt, and the reader can hardly keep up with all his medical needs, resulting in a late night healing session

Felix tightened the bandage wrapped around his injured arm with a slight twitch of his eye, his definition of a wince. He was camped outside the healer’s tent at midnight, half because he knew he was going to be scolded the second he stepped foot in there for the fourth time that day, and half because, well, he might just be hopelessly in love with the healer.

While Felix was having an inward crisis beside your tent flap, you were sitting inside with flickering candles spread throughout your tent. Peacefully. Happily. You might be in the middle of a war you likely wouldn’t return alive from, but that didn’t stop you from savoring the small moments of peace and quiet you got through the usual clamor of the healing tent.

Priorities.

You hummed a simple tune under your breath as you stood up from the cot you had just cleaned and went over to your desk, which had been left untouched for quite a long time while you were busy tending to patients. It had just been gathering dust in the corner.

Upon seeing the letters sealed with wax that were sitting on the dusty top, you sighed somewhat dreamily, picking them up and shuffling through the letters you vividly remembered exchanging with Felix, a knight on the battlefield. Foolish as it is that you both decided to become lovers amidst a dangerous war, you couldn’t help but laugh as you opened one of the letters and examined Felix’s scrawly handwriting.

You had exchanged the letters for a rather silly yet sentimental reason — to make it seem like you weren’t both involved in the war and to deflect away from the sinking prospect of death.

It wasn’t as if both of you didn’t know what it would cost to enlist, but you certainly didn’t know you’d meet someone who’d make you feel like you do with him.

“Maybe I should’ve put ‘Love, Felix’ instead of ‘Sincerely, Felix.’ Guess I just felt a bit awkward back then.”

You screamed as Felix seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind you. Not knowing who it was nor willing to take chances, you shoved the “intruder” against the wall, whipped out the dagger that was hidden in the folds of your gherkin, and held it to his neck.

Felix threw his hands up, his bandage falling off at the motion, just adding to the fear in his eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s just me!”

You yelped, jumping back and releasing your death hold on him. “Oh my god, Felix, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He chuckled, wincing all the way now. “I don’t think okay is the right word.”

“Is that blood?” Seeing the dark red seeping through Felix’s linen shirt, you immediately scrambled over to the many piles of supplies lying on the opposite end of your tent for bandages and disinfectant. “I told you to just go rest!”

Felix smiled, albeit it was likely just to hide the pain, your stomach still flipped ever so slightly when he met your eye. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. We just have so much to do, and this little era of peace is the perfect time to do it.”

“Era of peace,” you scoffed, tearing a bandage into jagged pieces in exasperation. “This is the third time today, Felix! Is getting hurt a joke to you?”

“Fourth…actually,” he corrected in a small voice, but fell silent at a particularly cold glare from you. You flopped down on a cot, dragging Felix down with you as you lifted up his shirt to see a long slash on his already bruised and beaten torso.

He looked away just as you looked up at him with saddened eyes.

“Just…take care of yourself,” you murmured in a cracking voice, and Felix couldn’t bring himself to even look at you any longer. “Don’t tell me you opened up the wound on your arm too…”

He did, and you quickly got up, even more desperate now, and sat down again, this time behind him. You reached around his body, making sure you would be touching enough of it for your healing mana to transfer the maximum amount, which surely wouldn’t be that much after a long day of healing.

And you were tired — a welcome, plausible excuse.

Golden light sprouted from your fingertips as you closed your eyes and led your consciousness away from the chaos of the world. Felix watched your fingers tap steadily against his stomach as his heartbeat picked up.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

He really couldn’t tell if you could hear — no, feel it bouncing around in his rib cage. He cursed to himself silently.

Get a hold of yourself, Felix! You aren’t some hormonal teenager who explodes when a girl touches him!

Gulping nervously even though he’s done this with you hundreds of times, he shut his eyes as the bright, golden orbs got to the highest intensity and flashed away, all in the same second. He felt the cot shift as you leaned back and sighed.

Felix opened his eyes and peered back at your figure, leaning towards you and wiping a few drops of pearly sweat off your forehead. You met his eyes, and in that moment, it dawned on you both.

Rose-scented candles lit the small tent, making the floating specks of dust swirling around you look like nebulae of gold. The air was thick as you stared at each other in comfortable silence. Felix’s broad shoulders were framed by the soft light, his shirt still lifted ever so slightly, and his eyes glistened under the shadow of his long lashes.

No doubt you were both thinking the exact same thing.

And no doubt indeed, as you pounced on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and encasing his lips in a kiss. Felix jumped slightly on impact, but didn’t protest, allowing you to pin him down on the cot while you felt out his lower lip and bit down. He let out a sound that made your stomach drop in excitement.

He turned his head eventually, gasping for air with flushed cheeks and heavy eyes. His gaze was still focused on you, however, seeing what you would do next.

“Maybe I should reserve this cot for you.” You chuckled softly, your hand pinning both of his above his head, near the metal headboard while your legs straddled his healed torso. “What do you think?”

“What are you implying there, doctor?” He teased right back, but since his voice was still breathy and his cheeks are redder than a tomato, you both knew he hadn’t sold it enough.

You laughed, leaning down towards his neck and whispering in his ear, “Why don’t you stay here tonight, Sir Felix?”

Felix’s breath hitched, and you made eye contact once again. The corners of his lips lifted up in a smile.

“Why not?”

[pigeonwhumps]

"That's gonna scar"

MD-264N masterlist

Febuwhump day 5: "that's gonna scar"

Asha sews up Morgan's gunshot wound when it refuses to close.

1.3k

CWs: self-dehumanisation, stitches, implied past non-con drugging, mentioned brainwashing, mentioned expectations of death, conditioned whumpee, living weapon

"Are you sure you don't want any stronger painkillers?" asks Asha, concerned. All Morgan's consented to taking are a couple of paracetamols, and while Asha can understand why after seeing the track marks on their arms, she's spoken to Rhian and she's not sure it's going to be enough today. She's not sure it's enough normally, honestly, but Morgan's gunshot wound isn't healing properly after the packing and now it needs stitches. Which means far more intense pain.

"No, thank you, sir. Asha."

Asha exchanges a glance with Rhian. A bit of a setback, but that's to be expected after yesterday. At least they're using her name as well.

"If you're sure. This is going to be painful, so let me know if you change your mind and need me to stop at any point, alright?"

"Yes, Asha."

"Good."

"You can squeeze my hand as much as you like," says Rhian softly, resting her hand in Morgan's. They wrap their fingers gently around it.

"Morgan, can you lift your leg so your ankle's on the pillow here? It's covered in a towel, even if we make a mess it'll be fine. I need your ankle slightly elevated and for me to be able to get to it easily." Morgan swings their leg up on the bed and turns slightly, leaning against Rhian, back to her chest. "That's it. I'm going to start now, you don't have to watch."

"Concentrate on your breathing," says Rhian, as Asha unwraps the bandage around the wound and winces. "Nice and deep and even, copy me."

Morgan does their best as Asha cleans the area around the wound before picking up her needle and thread. This is going to be the painful part. Her patient squeezes their eyes shut at the sight of the needle touching skin.

Asha pushes through the skin with only a little resistance and Morgan whimpers. They bite their lip, clutching Rhian's hand tight, letting out pained cries as Asha pulls the thread through.

Rhian starts humming.

It's a low tune, a soft lullaby that Asha recognises as one of Rhian's self-soothing techniques from when they first joined. It seems to be working wonders on Morgan too, their eyes drifting shut. After a couple of verses they join in hesitantly, the humming replacing their sounds of pain. Their breaths are still hitching, their face is white, but they're a little better.

Asha smiles slightly to herself as she stitches up the wound. They're perfect for each other. Rhian's doing much better with someone to care for, and Morgan's recovery is going better than Asha could ever have predicted.

"Alright, I'm all done with the stitching. This'll probably scar but at least it has a better chance of healing now." Morgan snaps their eyes open and watches intently as Asha wraps a bandage over the top of the stitches. "That should keep it clean and stop you catching the stitches on stuff."

"Thank you, sir. Asha."

"No problem. You were very brave. Would you like a fruit pastille?"

Morgan's eyes light up and they nod. Asha grins. Rhian was right, they really do have a sweet tooth. She holds out the jar. "Here. Take a couple."

"Thank you."

Once Morgan's chewing on a sweet, Asha says carefully, "How are you both? You look exhausted."

Morgan glances back at Rhian, who nods, squeezing their hand. "This weapon malfunctioned last night. It, I, I had a nightmare. And it disturbed Rhian and it is so sorry."

"I told you, it's fine, sweetheart," murmurs Rhian, before turning to Asha. "It was worse than they've had in over a week. We barely slept at all."

"Hey. You'll get better, Morgan. Maybe not all the way, but recovery's never linear. Rhian can tell you that."

Rhian nods. "Definitely."

"If you're okay on your own for a moment, I need to speak to Rhian quickly."

Morgan nods, and Rhian slides out from under them, following Asha across the room. Her voice is hushed.

"What is it?"

"It wasn't just Morgan's nightmare last night, was it? You look too distressed for that."

Rhian sighs and shakes their head, raking their hand through their hair. "I had a nightmare too, but that's normal. Nothing unusual about it. Been having them for years. But Morgan… they said that they didn't understand why we wanted a malfunctioning weapon. They asked why we hadn't decommissioned them yet. I mean, what do I say to that?"

Asha feels queasy. Morgan's barely grown and already they're expecting to die for being emotional and hurt.

"Reassure them we care, for as long as they need. And hopefully they'll understand our intentions eventually."

"Right. Hopefully. And maybe they'll consider themself a person eventually, too. Is that all you wanted to ask about?"

"Yeah. We can go back over now. I have their present with me too."

Rhian grins. "You finished it!"

"Of course I did."

They head back over, Rhian pulling Morgan gently against her under the window as Asha packs away her equipment. She can just hear Rhian whispering soothingly to Morgan, very obviously trying to contain her excitement. Asha pulls a lumpy package wrapped in scrap paper and string out of her bag, and hands it to Morgan. They frown down at it.

"It's a present for you. I meant to finish it a while ago but I got ill and then I was busy, but here you are."

Morgan blinks. "For me?"

"Yeah. Nothing bad, I promise. Go ahead and open it."

Morgan examines it for a full minute, Rhian almost bouncing behind them, before pulling at one end of the string, undoing the bow. The paper falls with the string, revealing a toy owl made out of scraps of fabric. It's not amazing, the wings are uneven and so are the button eyes, and the fabric's a bit of a mish-mash of anything she and Rhian could find regardless of the colour or texture, but Morgan picks it up delicately, like it's a treasure. They look a little bewildered.

"Morgan? What's wrong?"

They swallow, looking up at her. "What's the purpose of this gift? If it should be obvious this weapon apologises, but it does not understand."

"It's just a present, sweetheart," says Rhian. "It doesn't have a purpose. Though I guess if you need one, we can say it's to help you recover. You can cuddle it and it'll hopefully make you feel better. And the different textures are a great sensory thing. I have a similar one, you've seen it."

"It is only a weapon, it is not worthy of such a present. But it is very grateful."

Asha smiles, noticing that Morgan's already clutching the owl close to their chest. "Do you want to name it?"

"Archimedes," they say after a pause. "If that's acceptable."

"Archimedes," repeats Rhian thoughtfully. "Good name."

As Morgan sinks further into Rhian, eyes full of badly-hidden relief, Asha wonders if they ever watched The Sword in the Stone before they were brainwashed by the government. Maybe it was their favourite film. Maybe it was a sibling's favourite. Did they watch it over and over again? Did they learn the songs, did they annoy their family with them? Did they get annoyed by them?

Asha doesn't know. None of them do.

Until now, it hadn't occurred to her just how much they don't know about the newest member of their family. They don't know how old Morgan was when they were taken, where they lived, who they loved and were loved by in return (because surely, surely someone cared). They don't even know what their name was. Blue's working on hacking the retrieved memory card that may well have helped Morgan escape, but until then…

Just who do they have in their care?

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I’m back with another fun prompt before I hit you guys with angst (sorry <3) I had a lot of idea but I decided this one was more cute and funny. so an AU where soap is medic (he is still the same just is more medically knowledgeable) so one day gaz and ghost walk in to medic ( gaz did something stupid and got hurt ghost is there to make sure he doesn’t pass out on the way there) and they see soap and ghost man is mesmerized he literally stop and stares soap walks in and just starts curse at gaz for being back in his office so soon then he sees ghost and gives him a huge smile and promises he’ll take care of gaz and he’ll be fine (ghost is so in love he just nods his head and thanks him). the next victim is könig he cuts his arm and soap just takes care of him and he is just straight flustered he just thinks of the nice medic who help him (the band-aids are cute animals). now the last two are Alejandro and Rudy they got a bit hurt and soap see’s them and immediately tends to their wounds he hold Rudy face with cleaning his cuts(Rudy face is so red and doesn’t know how to speak).then he hold Alejandro hand to bandage it he just stared and flirts with him in Spanish (soap knows multiple languages due to being everywhere as a medic) soap laughs and just says “ you think I’m hot? You’re not bad yourself and don’t worry I always kiss a patient better then he kisses his hand. Alejandro is just in shock and cannot speak price saw that go down and while soap is helping him he just say” y’know how we been talking about you joining 141?” “Yeah why?” “Let’s rethink that”.

Sorry this one took my so long, I’ve been trying to finish off some fics that’ve been sitting in my computer for a year.

Anyway! I actually love the idea of Gaz getting sent to Soap’s med room so often that the two just know each other really well by now and Gaz looks at him, looks at his lieutenant and goes, “Yes. He’s gonna love him.”

And then starts the talking about either man to the other one. Ghost kind of gets over Gaz talking about this medic so often and finally decides to go see what all the fuss is about himself one day. One look at the man tending to a random soldier and Ghost has fallen hook, line and sinker.

So now Ghost takes every opportunity to go see the man, including the time he ‘had’ to go with Gaz to make sure the man didn’t pass out in a random hallway (because there totally weren’t other people that could’ve taken him and he was the only person available)

It’s probably the only proper interaction he’s actually had with the man and when Soap turns that bright grin and soft eyes on him and speaks without an ounce of fear? Simon swears he could melt into a puddle.

König only ends up in medical because his captain told him to, something about needing him in tip-top shape. He doesn’t understand why since it’s literally a scratch but he won’t disobey orders, even if they’re literally pointless.

Though when the Austrian walks through that door and the nice medic man smiles at him that brightly he doesn’t feel as annoyed anymore. Especially when he gets so worried over mere scratches and handles him as if he might actually hurt him with one wrong move.

Soap offers him a choice of three animal Band-Aid’s, giggle on his lips as König chooses the cat one, “It suits you quite well I reckon.”

And if König wears those bandaids with pride and makes sure they’re always on display? Well, nobody’s gonna bring that up with the giant lest they die.

Rodolfo and Alejandro hadn’t met the man yet, both having been on a mission that had gone just a little rougher than they had expected. When they get back they’re both a little reluctant to go to medical, the older lady that had last been there was rough in her proficiency and sometimes you came away with an extra injury you didn’t have before.

But they both walk in and Soap’s there, turning toward them with a smile that drops in favour of worry as he rushes over. He ushers them to sit before going about and collecting his equipment, deciding to tend to Rudy’s head wound first since it seemed a little more severe than Alejandro’s arm.

Soap talks the entire time, voice as soft as his hands and Rudy swears he’s about blow a fuse with how hot his face is getting. The man’s face is so close and he keeps shooting the other these reassuring smiles whenever Rudy finds himself tongue tied in the face of his questions.

Alejandro watches the whole thing with amusement because he’s positive that he’ll be able to pull off talking to the man better than his longtime friend has.

But then Soap’s taking his hand in his own, treating him the same as Rudy and Alejandro finds he can’t remember a damn thing about the English language. He rolls with it though, flustering only slightly as he flirts in Spanish even though he’s positive that Soap doesn’t speak the language. Maybe the man will sense the intention behind the words?

“You’re quite good looking yourself. Did you want me to kiss your wound better as well or just your friends face?” Rudy looks ready to combust with both the words and the sudden language change from the Scotsman, Alejandro not faring much better as he opens and closes his mouth.

Soap laughs at their faces and lord have mercy, they’re both ready to die for this man if he so much as asked it of them. Soap does keep his words, kissing Rudy just right of the cut along his brow while he kisses the back of Alejandro’s hand, just shy of where his injury ends.

The two end up staying in medical just a touch longer since they both fear they’ll pass out if they stand right that second.

Price either sees the interactions or he hears about them from Gaz and he’s honestly a little scared of what might happen if Soap were to actually join the 141 and go into battle with them. These men were willing to kill when Soap had a bad patient, he didn’t want to imagine what could possibly happen if the man got physically injured in any capacity.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @winterandwords to uh... talk about a WIP I guess? :D

I'll pass on this tag toooo... @starlit-hopes-and-dreams (as always <3) but I'm not sure who else, so if you feel like talking about a WIP, consider this an open tag.

Oh boy, which to pick. There are currently only 2 projects where the P in WIP actually stands for "progress" (for the others it stands for "procrastination".)

I think I'm gonna pick Till Death. It is the one I am currently obsessed with, and the only one I am writing, not editing.

Here's the blurb:

Finnian is a wandering healer down on his luck. When one of his patients dies, the village turns against him, beating him half to death and leaving him for thirst and scavengers to finish what they started.

Eilis lives deep in the forest, hiding from the world. When she finds him, impaled on a tree and barely alive, she can‘t leave him to his fate, even if it means upending the peaceful life she has built for herself.

As Finnian slowly recovers, days filled with quiet companionship make the prospect of him staying less daunting than either of them had expected. But he carries too many scars, and Eilis too many secrets, threatening to destroy their fragile relationship as the shadows of the past draw closer. When everything falls apart, will they save each other, or will the price be too high?

You see, in April I finished the last chapter of all my ongoing stories, which left me in a very weird mood. For 1,5 years I always had something to work on, and suddenly, there was nothing started. Sure, I had a few outlines, but nothing really called to me, with the added problem that for those, I have to figure out bullshit like politics. I needed something new. New chars I didn't know yet, a fresh story - and 🌟violence🌟 :)

I've been talking about wanting more gore with happy end, but sadly, existing OCs are so fragile, I can't even break all their bones without them dying 🙄 So it was time to fuck up another healer.

For a few weeks, I threw concepts against a wall like cooked spaghetti, grabbed whatever stuck, and then I just started. It's the first time in a year that I actually write a story without posting as I go. I can leave a little note "this sounds weird, fix later" or remember "shit, I forgot this injury" or change a name halfway in. I know. That's how a draft is supposed to work 😅

I'm at over 60k words, and it's looking good. There's a few 'first times' for me, a lot of things I love and a lot of things I am excited about. I have a rough outline of events still to happen that leaves me enough freedom to go wild. And wild I go; half of the scenes are gratuitous pain and suffering, and there will be more - but it's also a story of love and finding a place to belong. Which brings me to the next point:

I'm tired. Tired of feeling like I don't belong anywhere. Of having no genre and being "just whump" because it fits nowhere else. Of being "not enough whump" while still finding myself on every squick list.

So this one's written for a target audience of some very close friends - a target audience for which I don't have to write CWs at the top of each chapter, a target audience who doesn't grow bored at the first calm moment, a target audience who will call me a bitch while asking for more pain.

I love you, pocket friends 💜

Here's the start of the book (unedited, rip):

Finnian hated dealing with sick people.

Considering the fact that he earned his money with healing, that was rather unfortunate. If he didn’t want to starve to death, he had to grit his teeth and ignore the stench of sweat and blood while taking care of coughs and aches and fever.

Sometimes, he wished he had learned something else after it had become clear that this wasn’t the right profession for him. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, explaining to a grown ass woman that when he had told her to keep the wound clean, that included keeping the bandages away from dirty water. And that yes, it fucking hurt, because now it was infected, and if she didn’t plan on losing a finger or two, she’d better keep her hand dry and clean this time. And that perhaps, just perhaps, that was a bit more important than cleaning the windows.

Unfortunately, he had not learned anything else, so he left the house half an hour later with barely enough coins in his pocket to make up for the supplies he had used. Most roots and herbs he could gather himself, but bandages and tinctures didn’t grow on trees.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 3- From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

With a little help from @lordoftherazzles I FINALLLY decided on a title for this fic, so thank you Razzy! This was the winner for "my future WIP". Since posting the first chapter on AO3 would just be basically posting my previous teaser, I thought I should offer you guys a little bit more. So consider this the fic "trailer". 😆

From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

Rating: T

Warning(s): N/A

Ship: Bagginshield

Words: 1780

Summary: Paramedic/Amnesia AU; Bilbo was just checking on a coma patient that he might have a teensy little crush on. That was it. Even though he’s a paramedic, his job doesn’t get terribly exciting. Now, he’s on the run with said man who can’t even remember who he is as they escape assassins and potentially uncover a plot that will destroy Erebor.

Previous Teaser

The remainder of the ride to the alley where Bilbo found Oakenshield was met with silence. Though it was far from comfortable. Bilbo was constantly checking his mirrors awaiting the inevitable car chase that would just top his day on ‘shit he wasn’t built to handle’. However, to the relief of his shot nerves, there was nothing. No gunmen, no cops, nobody suspecting anything out of the ordinary. Bilbo parked the ambulance next to the meter at the entrance of the alley.

“Well, this is it.” Bilbo explained pointlessly.

It sat between the Mathom House, a local museum, and the Green Dragon, a bar and pub. The best Bilbo and Theo could figure, Oakenshield had left the pub when he was pulled into the alley and mugged. It was common enough to hold weight, even if Oakenshield’s blood alcohol level came back 0. After all, Bilbo was a big fan of GD’s fish and chips. It was entirely possible he went in just for lunch before he was snatched into the dark alley.

The only thing that was causing Bilbo to second guess himself was Oakenshield’s James Bond self-defense abilities. If he could take out two gunmen in less than a minute in the hospital, how could he not defend himself against a few thugs? 

Oakenshield moved gingerly thanks to the bullet wound in his side, but his eyes scanned the area fiercely. Bilbo could tell from the furrow of his brows that he was frustrated though. Bilbo stuck his hands in his pockets wondering when exactly would be the best moment to duck out and leave the man to his own devices. 

“Can you explain to me how you found me?” He asked softly.

It startled Bilbo from his thoughts as he took a step forward, nodding dumbly.

“Yeah, sure. You were laid out here.” Bilbo stated going to the spot. “Bludgeoned to the head, contusions over your body, heavily emphasized to the ribs and abdominal area. It looked like a textbook mugging.”

“I think after what we experienced in the hospital we can rule that out.” Oakenshield snapped.

Bilbo glared at him. “Well it’s not like we knew that at the time.”

He ran a hand through his long dark hair. “I know.” He groaned. “This isn’t helping like I thought it would. Nothing about this looks familiar.”

Bilbo heaved a sigh before placing a hand on Oakenshield’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. This must be frustrating to you. But I told you these things take time, you can’t just force your memories…”

Bilbo let himself trail off as Oakenshield walked away from his touch towards a dumpster. He felt his lips press together tightly. Well, good talk then. He was glad he could help. He was going to offer to leave when Oakenshield pushed the dumpster away from the wall slightly. He then bent down to retrieve something on the ground back there. Bilbo couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the action. He was far less disgusted and a bit more curious when Oakenshield flipped open a wallet.

“How did you know that was back there?” Bilbo asked in amazement.

“Because I suddenly remembered to look for it.”

There was no money, no credits card, or ID of any kind. It definitely looked like it had been cleaned out which made the mugging theory more credible. Bilbo could tell Oakenshield was getting discouraged when a small photo fell out of the folds. There were three people in the photo, but none of them were Oakenshield. 

There was a beautiful woman with brunette hair and dark eyes with her arms wrapped tightly around two young boys. The older one had sunshine hair and Oakenshield’s blue eyes. The youngest had dark hair, a bright grin, and was clutching a graduation cap to his head. Bilbo felt sick looking at the picture. Oakenshield had a family. Where were they? Why hadn’t they tried to find him?

“Do you…recognize any of them?” Bilbo finally brought himself to ask.

Oakenshield shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. 

“I-It’s okay, Oakey. It’s not your fault.”

“Stop!” He ordered, pulling away from Bilbo once more. “I should know! I should be able to know my own family! If that’s who they are.”

He bent down groaning as he clutched his head. Bilbo went into medic mode and immediately rushed over next to him trying to take his pulse until Oakenshield shook him off. He was certainly proving to be a stubborn patient, but Bilbo thought he was fine. Probably just lingering headaches from the memories he was trying to force as well as the blunt force he took.

Bilbo wasn’t exactly sure what he was still doing here. He said this was all he was going to do. And it really would be in his best interest to walk away now. He didn’t know this man, he was vaguely terrified of him, but not as much as he should be which was the troubling part. Bilbo took another look at the photograph, his eyes zooming in on the youngest boy. More accurately his sweater.

“I know that crest. That’s my nephew’s school, well cousin once removed actually, but technicalities.” 

Oakenshield perked up, looking between Bilbo and the photo.

“What school?”

“Buckland Prep. It’s on the east side of town.”

“Can you get us in there?”

Bilbo hesitated. He could still walk away. He could remind Oakenshield that this was the end of the line for their temporary partnership, and good luck to him. However, there was something about him that was so magnetic. Bilbo would almost blame those hopeful blue eyes, if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt this way even when the man had been asleep in a coma. 

“They’re not going to let us ask for records on another kid. At least if we’re not on his contact list.”

Oakenshield’s lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes reflected his disappointment. 

“But,” Bilbo sighed, hating how much his heart swooped at seeing Oakenshield’s demeanor brighten. “I bet Prim is at home, and maybe she’ll recognize him if he’s in Frodo’s class.” 

“Then let’s go!”

Oakenshield was up and practically running to the ambulance before Bilbo stopped him. He managed to convince him that they were better off ditching the ambulance and switching vehicles in case anyone came looking for him. It was rather fortunate, actually, that Bilbo’s cousin, Odo, ran the Mathom House. Perhaps more so that Odo owed him a favor so borrowing his car for a couple of hours shouldn’t be a big deal. 

“Also, Oakey?” Thorin brought to his attention Bilbo’s slip of the tongue.

Bilbo felt himself flush, but tried not to act like it had any effect on him whatsoever.

“Do you know how much of a mouthful ‘Oakenshield’ is?” 

“So you gave me a nickname for your nickname?”

“You know what, remember your actual name and I’ll stop.”

Bilbo had just a moment to be horrified at letting his mouth run away from him before Oakenshield let out a deep, loud chuckle. A smile immediately bloomed across his face as he felt himself preen. All the while trying to remind himself not to get his hopes up. Remember, he’s a psychopath. Possibly has a wife and two kids.

“You know, you’ve been giving me all this crap about me being the spy, and then you do something like this.”

“Now I have no idea what you could mean by that! I certainly didn’t kill two men with my bare hands!” Bilbo squawked, rounding on the taller man.

“No.” Oakenshield agreed, his eyes twinkling. “But you picked out that little symbol on the sweater, knew exactly what it meant, and now you’re having us ditch our ride in favor of something that will be more under the radar. Are you going to hotwire it for us?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Nothing nearly as dramatic. The only thing I’m guilty of is having a big family in a relatively small town. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to deal with one of my least favorite cousins.”

Before Bilbo could proceed, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned back around to Oakenshield, with his head cocked and eyebrow raised. The man gave him a small smile as his eyes bore into him with an intensity that caught Bilbo’s breath.

“I just realized I haven’t really had the proper chance to thank you. So…thank you. I’m pretty sure I’d be dead, at least twice over, if it hadn’t been for you.”

It was on the tip of Bilbo’s tongue to argue with him. After all, picking him up that day had been a routine job, and Theo was the reason they had answered the call instead of packing it in for the day. As for the hospital, Bilbo had very little to do with getting them out of that situation. Oakenshield had practically saved them single-handedly. And maybe that’s why Bilbo hesitated. Because this incredible, attractive, please don’t let him be psychotic, talented man thought Bilbo was amazing. That he was actually worthwhile simply because he could follow a series of clues that might unlock this man’s memories. 

“You’re welcome. Of course. I’m happy to…yeah, I’ll just be a moment then.”

Without further ado, Bilbo ducked his head and slipped inside the museum hoping beyond hope that he could somehow get the imprint of that man’s smile out of his brain before he wound up hurt. And he certainly didn’t mean physically, but that was definitely a valid concern.

***

Teasers from Future Scenes/Chapters:

“Here he is! Kili Archer. He’s actually a few years older than Frodo.” Prim declared, her finger pointing to the same boy in Oakenshield’s photo.

“Could your last name be Archer?” Bilbo questioned the man.

His lips pursed together. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”

***

“Listen closely, Bilbo Baggins, you have no idea who you’re messing with. If you don’t give my brother back to us, you’ll have the entire weight of Erebor’s militia hunting you down. Now where. Is. Thorin?”

***

“You didn’t realize that the man you’ve been carting around this whole time was the King of Erebor?” The bald man demanded.

“He. Had. No. Memory. How was I possibly supposed to know that?!” Bilbo shrieked in response.

***

Bilbo stared down at the rainbow colored gem. This was it? This was what was worth killing Thorin over?

He heard the footsteps creeping up behind him, and Bilbo immediately spun around only to freeze at the sight of the gun pointed right between his eyebrows.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, Medic. Hand over the Arkenstone, or I might just have to kill you.”

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Plaster- Robin Buckley

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader

Characters: Robin Buckley

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 415

Author: Charlotte

As soon as you heard Robin wince, you jumped to attention, falling out of the daydream that consumed your time at work. You turned to your girlfriend and colleague to see what caused her reaction. Robin cupped one hand in her other, cradling it to her chest.

“What happened?” You asked.

A deep breath seeped through her gritted teeth as she tried to compose herself enough to answer your question.

“I told Steve to throw out that dish he broke the other day,” she seethed. “I guess he ignored me, seen as I just caught my hand on it.”

You rested your hands on both of her wrists, slowly guiding her hands down so you could see what was going on. On her index finger was a sizeable cut with blood dripping into her other cupped palm. It was a clean cut, but you could imagine how sore it would be from injuring her finger.

“I’ll kick his arse when I next see him,” you frowned. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

Reaching under the counter, you pulled out the small sign to place on top of it, to let customers know you would return in five minutes, before guiding Robin into the back room where the first aid kit was.

“Sit down,” you told her.

“You don’t have to be my nurse,” she said with a laugh. “It’s just a little cut, it just caught me by surprise more than anything.”

“I’ll always take care of you.”

She rolled her eyes but did as she was told, sitting down at the small table, waiting patiently for you to grab the kit that hadn’t been used in ages. You dropped it onto the table, opening it up and looking for anything useful. You were pretty sure that most of it was expired but it was the best you had currently.

You took out an alcohol wipe and a plaster before turning your attention back to Robin.

“This is going to sting,” you warned.

Robin winced again as the wipe touched her finger. You tried to be quick as possible wiping away the blood and making sure the wound was clean. You ripped open the plaster wrapped and placed it gently onto her finger, sticking it down. Once the small wound was covered, you raised her hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to the plaster.

“All better,” you smiled down at her.

“It’ll be all better after I see you rip Steve a new one.”