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hellfiremunsonn · 3 days ago

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Don't Touch The Racoons. Eddie Munson x Reader

Don't Touch The Racoons

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Eddie helps his very loopy girlfriend after she dislocates her shoulder.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: None really? fem reader though no real descriptions, mentions of a 'heavy' medication, but not specified. Just assumed they'd give you something for the pain of having to pop your shoulder back in, and it making you a lil loopy! (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: not proof read, and not based off of anything or a request, just something that I had in mind, and thought it was cute and funny!

Word count: 1.6k

Eddie was working a late shift at the shop, working overtime for some extra cash when he gets a frantic call from Robin telling him you slipped and dislocated your shoulder.

He immediately panics and is about to head out the door when you plead with him on the other end just to finish his shift.

"We w-wont be long, m'okay Ed's really" you lie. You wanted to be brave for him, and for your friends who are with you in the waiting room of the hospital.

Reluctantly after another ten minutes you convince Eddie to finish his shift and to wait for you at his trailer.

It's around midnight when Eddies phone finally rings, and he nearly fumbles it across the room with how quickly he grabs it. "Hello?"

"Wakey wakes Munson! Were on our way back with your very, loopy girlfriend" Robin says on the other end of the phone.

Eddie groans as he sits up from the couch, breathing out a sigh of relief knowing they'll be back soon. "How long till you guys get here?" He asks wearily, standing up from the couch to begin pacing back and forth.

"Fifteen minutes, barely, were practically down the road" Robin says comfortingly.

"Okay okay... good... how is she?"

"Oh insanely loopy" Robin laughs "It's pretty cute though.

"Oh jeez, guess they gave her some good stuff" he shakes his head, thinking of just how loopy you're going to be when you get here.

"Oh for sure they- no babe, you can't touch that, no stop it, put your hand down for the love of christ-" Robin rambles at you, and Eddie can hear you giggling in the background as Robin tries to control whatever loopy antics you're up to.

"Is that her giggling like a school girl?"

"Yes! she's being a menace! A very slow and giggly menace, but a menace all the same!"

Just as Eddie goes to respond he sees the headlights of Steves car pull up into his gravel driveway. He hangs up the phone with out saying goodbye and heads over towards the door.

When he makes it to the porch, Steve and Robin are helping you out of the car, practically dragging you with your heavy limbs and fogged brain.

"Jesus Christ, can se even walk?" He says while jogging down the few steps, reaching out towards you to help you into his trailer.

"teddy teddy teddy" you say while reaching forward with your arm that isn't in the temporary sling.

Eddie steps closer and wraps his arm around you in a tight hugs, pressing a scatter of kisses to the top of your head. "How's the patient?" he says while looking at you, but he's really asking Steve and Robin.

"She is absolutely stoned out of her mind right now" Robin says with a smirk, looking over at you while you cling to Eddie, your head lolling against his chest. "They defenitly gave her the good stuff"

"You're if bubble gum was a person" you mumble, rubbing your face against his chest.

Eddie lets our a snort of laughter and shakes his head. "And why am I bubble gum, baby?"

"Cause you are" you scoff, as if it's obviously

"Mhmm okay, good explanation" he says shaking his head. "Lets get you inside alright?"

"Insssiiidddeeee" You sing out.

Eddie laughs again, leading you into the trailer slowly, and guides you over to the couch, making sure your sat down, comfortably and safely before standing back up in front of you. "There you go baby, now just stay right here okay? I'm gunna say bye to Steve and Robin" he says while pushing some hair away from your face gently.

"Don't touch the racoons" you say with a warning tone, pointing a finger at you to emphasize your point of seriousness.

Eddie stares at you blankly for a moment, attempting to hold back a smile as he gently pushes your hand back down to your side. "I promise not to touch the racoons" he confirms while turning around to the front door where Steve and Robin are giggling at your antics.

"Did she just say 'don't touch the racoons?'" Robin asks, still trying to stile another round of laughter.

"Yes. Yes she did" Eddie says while trying to keep a straight face.

"Steve finally breaks, letting out a burst of hysterical laughter, while robin just smiles and shakes her head.

"Well you're going to have an interesting night, that's for sure" Steve says after he's managed to catch his breath.

Eddie shakes his head, and turns back to glance at you, still sitting on the couch. Your head is lolled to one side, one eye open, and the other one closed, a dreamy, dopey look on your face, that he can't help fall more in love with. "Alright you two assholes can head off now, I've got her covered" he says giving the both of them quick hugs. "Thanks for taking her to the hospital for me, and keeping her face"

Steve and robin wave off his thanks. "Good luck with your walking zombie of a girlfriend!" Robin says with a playful salute.

Once they drive away Eddie heads back inside, walking over and kneeling in front of you on the couch. "Hey there baby. How are you feeling?"

"Super duper" you say with a smile.

"Yeah super duper sounds about right" He says with a smile. Reaching out to tuck some hair out of your face again, looking over your features as you sit there all loopy.

You lean your cheek against his hand, humming in content at the feeling. The warmth of it spreading across your face.

Eddie smooths his thumb over your cheekbone as you lean into his touch. Seeing you so out of it like this was definetly a big change from your usual self he had become so familiar with. "The meds they gave you are really doing a number on you aren't they? he asks, but it's mostly him talking to himself. He doesn't expect a reply, let alone a coherent one at that, but you still try.

"M'all tingly" you mumble out.

"Yeah that's the medicine baby" he says quietly. Taking a moment to just admire your features, and the way you look up at him with those eyes of yours.

"Where'd you go?" you ask, tilting your head while you speak.

"What do you mean baby? where did I go?" he says confused.

"You weren't at the host-hop-hospital with me" you struggle to get the sentence out, but manage in the end.

Eddies face softens, and he nods his head. "I know baby, I'm really sorry, I was working remember? You didn't want me to miss out so you convinced me to stay" he says while bringing his free hand to cup the other side of your face so he can get you to look at him directly.

"They stole my blood" you frown.

Eddie has to stop himself from laughing so hard at the words that just came from your mouth, not wanting to offend you in your drowsy state. "They weren't stealing your food baby, that's just how hospitals work, they gotta make sure you're okay"

"Thieved it right out of me!"

Eddie can't help but laugh then at how ridiculous you were being. Normally he'd have at least some idea of what you were talking about, seeing you be all giggly like this when you were high. But right now it was like trying to decipher everything a very small, very stoned child was saying.

"They were testing your blood for science, baby, not stealing it from you, very big difference" he says, trying to help you understand despite knowing it's no use right now.

"Science! pffft" you snort, leaning forward until your head thunks against his shoulder.

Eddie cradles the back of your head, while pressing a kiss to to it. "Well science is important baby"

"You're eyes are science" you say matter of fact.

Eddie has no idea how to respond for a moment. "My eyes are... Science?" he repeats with a raised brow. Wondering if all the loops in your brain had finally melted together.

"Yep" you say confidently.

Eddie is still confused, but if it's one thing about right now is that he's learning to just go with whatever it is you're saying. "Interesting..." he says with a laugh "and they're science because?"

"Cause they sparkle duh"

"Jesus Christ you really are out of it" he says mostly to himself.

"Hey where's my bear?" You say abruptly, looking around for the blue stuffed bear that is always safely tucked away in Eddies bed for when you sleep over. You frown when you don't see it in the living room.

"He's in my room babe, where he always is"

"Can we go to him? I miss him"

Eddie gives you a fond smile and stands up from his kneeling position in front of you while reaching out to take your good hand in his. "Course we can go to him" he says while gently lifting you off the couch.

"Woah" you say when you wobbly slightly once you're back on your feet. "The floor is melty"

Eddie lets out a loud laugh, unable to keep that one in. Keeping you steady with his arm around your waist he looks down at you with a smile, almost tempted to let you go just to see if you really would fall over, but he doesn't. "No the floor isn't melty" he says "You're just really high"

"Looks pretty melty to me" you say skeptically. Taking a tentative step forward, tapping the toe of your soon on the ground first, just to REALLY make sure it was sturdy enough.

Eddie looks at you in amusement. It was like every clumsy bone in your body had been amplified to a maximum and he could barely believe it. "I promise you the floor is not melty"

As the night goes on, and you sleep off the drowsy medication, you manage to tell the story to Eddie about how you dislocated your shoulder. All the while he holds you close, keeping you warm and protected and silently vowing to himself to wrap you in bubble wrap when you were away from him.

#hellfiremunsonn #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #stranger things fluff #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem reader

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robynhoodwrites · 2 days ago

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˚｡❆ Rivals to Lovers ˚｡❆

Request: "Can I request a rivals to lovers fic (with smut if you will) about Zayne and MC where they live in a normal world, and they're both in med school?"

This will be written from the reader (aka the MC's) point of view. The MC will be AFAB, but will be referred to with they/them pronouns.

Minors DNI! This writing contains the following: smut, vaginal penetration, medical discussions, blood (in a medical setting), rivals to lovers, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, fellatio, switch!Zayne and switch!reader.

My heels clack loudly against the clean, tiled floors of the hospital. The sound echoes down the hallway, and I cringe internally at the fact that I’m practically announcing my presence. I hear a yawn sound from one of the receptionists behind me, hoping that the coffee now coursing through me is enough to keep me awake.

“Morning!” One of the nurses, Tara, smiles at me. She stops where she’s walking, seemingly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have time right now!” I breathe, my heart pounding as I pick up the pace. She frowns slightly, her chest deflating. “We can meet for lunch later! Promise!” I yell behind me, and she just laughs and continues walking to where she’s going.

This meeting isn’t necessarily important, but I haven’t earned the title “overachiever” for nothing. If I make it earlier than everyone else, it shows initiative. And initiative means I’m better than the others, which means I get the internship, which means I get a good job in the future, which means-

I’m almost at the door when I notice Zayne across the hallway. We had been in the same medical program for the last year, but only recently has he become such a pain in my ass. It seemed like no matter what grade I got, he matched it (or, God forbid, his was higher). It had become somewhat of an unspoken competition between us to see who would end up on top.

He seems to notice me, his eyes meeting mine from the other side of the hall. He looks at the door and then back at me before speeding up, his eyes now sporting a determined glare. I do the same, the clacking of my heels reaching insane speeds.

Even with the newfound speed, I am nowhere as fast as Zayne. Screw these stupid heels and Zayne’s long ass legs. I’m right behind him when he throws open the door, letting it start to close behind him as he enters the conference room before me.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” I mutter, and he seems to hear me, chuckling to himself.

“Zayne, nice to see you here bright and early,” our boss, Dr. Jenna says. Her eyes then flick to me, smiling. “Oh, and good to see you here early, too. You two have some real initiative.”

I silently thank the universe that coming in second has not put a blot on my record. It’s then that Zayne puts down his backpack, producing a coffee from the cupholder sewn to the side of it. “You like the cold brew, right?” he asks, handing her the coffee.

“Aw, Zayne, you shouldn’t have!” Jenna smiles, grabbing the drink from his hand and taking a sip with a content look on her face. Fuck, that’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Of course, Doctor Jenna. I cannot imagine how tired you must be, considering the fact that you’re working and taking the time to teach us. I don’t know how you do it,” Zayne gushes, and Jenna just smiles wider and thanks him before going back to writing on the whiteboard.

Zayne turns back to where I am standing, a stupid smirk lining his face. He sticks up two hands, one making the shape of a “zero” and the other creating a “one”.

Zayne: 1. Me: 0.

He winks as he goes to sit in his spot in the front row. Other students finally begin filing in, and I rush to take my spot in the front next to Zayne. “Really laying it on thick, huh?” I mutter, and he chuckles again.

“Maybe if you did the same, you wouldn’t be losing,” he whispers back, reclining in his chair nonchalantly.

“I don’t need to kiss ass. My superior doctoring skills will get me that internship,” I tease, mockingly reclining like him. He shows no sign that he’s noticed, instead deciding to unpack his notebook and pencil from his backpack.

“The points are saying otherwise,” he responds, opening his notebook to a fresh page. He writes down our names at the top of the page, putting a tally mark next to his own.

“That’s what this is to you? A game?” I ask, huffing out a breath of frustration. “There are 5 spots for the internship. We can both get it! There’s no need to fight me for it.” I am thoroughly enjoying the competition, but it’s not as fun when I’m the one that’s losing.

“I am not going to settle for mediocrity. I want to get chosen for the internship not just because she wants me there, but because she needs me there,” he tells me, stating it like it’s a fact. I suppose I understand that, but I am never going to let him hear me admit that.

“Where did this vanity come from, Zayne? I swear, you seemed so docile when I met you last year,” I tease. Rather than answer me, he looks down at the paper in front of him. “Or do you only act vain when you’re threatened? Am I a threat to you, Zayne?”

He doesn't respond. In fact, he acts like he hasn't heard me. Instead, he sticks out his hand, seeming to be asking for a handshake. “May the best doctor win,” he says confidently, and I grasp his hand firmly. It’s strangely warm, his long fingers holding my own tightly.

“I will,” I say back, letting go of his hand and turning to face the board. Before he can say something in retaliation, Doctor Jenna clears her throat and the class goes silent.

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By the last 10 minutes of class, I’ve nearly filled three pages with notes, front and back. The notes are nowhere near clean or pretty looking, but they’ll work for when I’m studying later. Dr. Jenna has started reviewing some of the information from the last class, which means I can zone out for a moment and let my brain take a break.

I spin my pen in my fingers, my eyes blurred as I think about absolutely nothing for the first time in a while. The peace doesn’t last, though. I hear a small rustle in front of me and look down to see a folded sheet of notebook paper.

I turn to look at Zayne, the most likely suspect. However, he’s looking straight ahead at the board in a focused manner, his eyes not meeting mine. I look back down at the paper curiously, finally relenting and unfolding it in front of me.

The paper has a messy stick figure drawing on the top, showing a tall man with dark hair and glasses holding a trophy. It’s nowhere near artist quality, but something about it makes me chuckle. I glance over at Zayne, who can’t help the smile now spreading across his face.

I click open my pen, drawing my own stick figure masterpiece under his. I surround his drawing with a thought bubble before drawing a picture of Zayne sleeping soundly underneath. Under his sleeping stick figure, I write “In your dreams!” before folding the paper neatly and handing it back to him.

He hesitates for a moment, waiting until Jenna’s back is turned before carefully unfolding the drawing. He snorts, covering his mouth with his hand quickly. I just keep looking forward at the whiteboard, listening to him hastily scribble on the paper before sliding it back to me.

I roll my eyes, unfolding the paper yet again. Zayne’s familiar, neat writing lines the page underneath my drawing. “You’re one to talk about dreams. What are you daydreaming about over there while Dr. Jenna teaches?”

He noticed that? I feel a weird flutter in my chest, but I push it down as I write my own message underneath his. “Just plotting my victory,” I write, checking to make sure Jenna’s back is turned before handing it to him.

A moment passes before the note lands back on my desk, the paper filled with more of Zayne’s neat, looping letters. “If you spend all class thinking about how to beat me, you’ll never pass your tests.”

I write back quickly, my messy scrawl in stark contrast to Zayne’s clear writing. “And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship.” I pass the note back to Zayne, keeping my eyes glued to the board as he takes in a sharp breath. He hesitates, slowly writing his next response before going to pass it back to me.

“Zayne, no passing notes in class. Put it away,” Jenna snaps, and I see Zayne’s face go pale. He crumples up the note, throwing it into his backpack. He mutters an apology under his breath, his pale face now growing a deep shade of red.

“Yeah, Zayne, I’m trying to learn,” I say, loud enough for Jenna to hear. She nods, throwing Zayne another sharp look before turning back to the board. Zayne shoots me a glare, his jaw clenched in annoyance. I wink at him, before shooting a quick glance at the board to see if Jenna is looking.

When her back is turned, I lean in closer to him, delighting in the quick breath he sucks in. I bring my pen to the top of his paper, adding a point under my name. “One to one,” I whisper, before leaning back and letting my focus return to the board.

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I yawn as I put some quarters into the vending machine, watching as it shoots an energy drink down towards the bottom. I grab it, quickly opening it and gulping down as much as I can. It was nearly the end of my shift, and a long day of shadowing doctors has left an ache in my feet and a pain in my back. I can’t wait to go home and sleep…

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me, and I turn to see Zayne standing impatiently behind me. I gulp, pulling the energy drink away from my mouth and thinking of what to say to the intimidating man in front of me.

In class, he is just like any other student. But, when working in the clinic, he’s… different. His lab coat perfectly frames his tall figure, his glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He’s always sitting when he's in class, but during clinic duty, he towers over me.

“Listen, I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus. I didn’t-” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’m not here about that. Well played, by the way,” he admits, and I feel that flutter in my chest again. “Jenna wants us in her office. Wants our opinion on something before we clock out.”

I nod, unable to stop a relieved breath from leaving my lungs. I chug down the rest of my energy drink, crushing the can in my hands before throwing it away. He chuckles and turns to walk towards the office. I follow close behind, not too keen on letting him beat me to something again.

When we finally reach the office, he pauses a moment before going in. Then, much to my surprise, he holds the door open for me. I just stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly gain from this.

“It’s not a trick,” he says reassuringly. “I just want to be a bit kind to you before I wipe the floor with you in this consult.” There it is. I stick out my tongue at him, not caring how childish I look. He shakes his head as I walk past him, muttering something about good sportsmanship.

Jenna is waiting for us in her office, a whiteboard standing on stilts in front of her as she chews on the end of her pen. When we enter, she turns to us with a smile on her face. A few more students pile in behind us and Jenna begins writing on the whiteboard.

“Alright, students. We had a patient come in with a hurt leg. She presents with hypersensitivity to touch as well as tendonitis and high calcium,” Jenna explains, writing the symptoms on the whiteboard in front of her. She pauses, turning back around to face us. “What do we do?”

“It could be an adenoma,” Zayne offers, and I curse myself for not being quick enough.

“That’s true, but it could be a multitude of things. Maybe kidney problems or a vitamin D intoxication?” I offer, and Jenna writes all of our suggestions down on the whiteboard.

“True, but I think the adenoma is still the best option. If not that, it could also be hyperthyroidism,” Zayne shoots back, and Jenna writes hyperthyroidism on the board. I begin to hit him with another response, but Jenna interrupts before I can.

“I believe an adenoma is the most likely cause. Good work, Dr. Zayne. What should we do with this information?” Jenna asks us, and I nearly punch Zayne when he speaks before I can.

“We’ll have to test her blood for PTH, phosphorus, and ionized calcium.”

“Very good, Zayne,” Jenna says, before turning to me. “And if those tests come back normal, we’ll start on your theory. Good work to you both,” she says, circling “adenoma” on the whiteboard. Zayne shoots me a sly smile, now holding up a two on one hand and a one on the other. I flip him off, and he chuckles to himself.

“Since the labs are closed for the night, they’ll have to process the blood in the morning. I’ll page you guys as soon as I get the results,” Jenna says, waving a hand to dismiss us. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

We all file out of the office, and I pause in the hallway for a moment. If I test the blood tonight, it will get her the results faster. And, more importantly, it will make me look amazing…

I turn down the hallway, my heels clacking against the tiled floors once again as I quickly make my way down to the lab. I scan my card against the door, sighing in relief when I notice that the lab is empty. I throw my backpack down on a chair, hurrying to the refrigerator at the back of the room and quickly scanning for the right vial.

The door swings open behind me, somebody else rushing in before pausing in shock. “Shit!” The voice mutters, and I turn to find Zayne in front of me, his eyes narrowed. “I should’ve known you would have the same idea,” he seethes, and I smile at the annoyed look on his face. He throws his backpack down, his notebook and a few papers spilling out onto the ground as he moves closer to me.

“You may have had the same idea, but I came up with it first,” I tell him, clutching the vial of blood in my hands. I turn and close the door to the fridge and when I turn back around, Zayne is much closer than before. I attempt to move away, but he blocks me in with his arms.

“Give me the vial,” he practically orders, and I can’t help but scoff at him.

“Wow, you really are a sore loser. Whatever happened to ‘may the best doctor win’?” I ask, and he doesn’t react. Rather than relent, he just sits there with his arms trapping me against the refrigerator. “Zayne?” I ask, now breathing a bit heavily under the man's piercing gaze.

In a moment of courage I did not know I possessed, I lean forward on my tiptoes until my mouth is next to his ear. “You lost this round. Let it go,” I whisper, and I swear he isn’t breathing as I lower myself back to my original position. He stays for a moment longer before finally letting his arms fall to rest at his sides.

I exhale a breath that I didn’t know I was holding, finally relaxing my tense shoulders. Zayne walks over to one of the counters, quickly putting on gloves before walking over to the machine sitting in the corner.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” I ask, and he doesn’t look up as he begins removing tools from the drawer next to him.

“Oh, just cleaning the centrifuge. It’s been a while since anyone has really given it a good scrub down.”

I pause, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from cursing him out. “Zayne, that’s the machine I need to use,” I say through gritted teeth. Zayne looks up at me from where he is disassembling the machine, false shock covering his face.

“Oh, is it? What a shame. Looks like you’ll have to do those tests tomorrow, instead.” He goes back to disassembling the centrifuge, a small (and annoying) smile now spreading across his face.

“You absolutely childish-” I begin, stopping to take a breath before I say something worse. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples as I let my temper cool. “We’ll do the tests together. Share the credit. Is that good enough for you?” I groan, and he stops what he’s doing to face me.

“That’s an incredible idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” he says mockingly, and I nearly spit on him out of anger. This manipulative, conniving… He starts putting the machine back together, and I walk over to where he is standing to put the vial on a stand next to him.

“This is so incredibly unfair,” I whine, and he chuckles to himself. He turns to face me yet again, his eyes staring daggers into me from only inches away.

“You started this when you threw me under the bus in class, you know.” I suppose I deserve that. He finishes reassembling the machine, putting the vial in and pressing a button on the front. The centrifuge starts with a beep, and the blood begins spinning in its vial.

I don’t say anything, moving away from him to grab some supplies from the cabinet above me. My attempt to reach the pipettes on the top shelf is in vain, and I stand on my tiptoes as I try to reach it. I hop slightly, barely reaching the corner of the box and coming back down empty-handed.

Zayne moves next to me, reaching up with ease and grabbing the box. He grabs a pipette and returns the box, holding the pipette out in his hands for me to take. Before I can touch it, he grabs my wrist tightly. I gasp, and he drops my arm almost instantly. Damn… wait, why did I enjoy that? I push these strange feelings down, instead looking up at him inquisitively.

“Gloves,” he explains, and I curse under my breath. “You’ve been in this program for two years, yet you forget something as simple as gloves.”

“I was a bit distracted, Zayne. It’s not every day I am cornered in the lab by another doctor,” I say, and he smiles as he throws me a box of gloves.

“If I don’t keep you on your toes, then this competition will be boring. If I’m going to win so easily, I might as well have a bit of fun.” He turns back to the centrifuge, which has now stopped spinning.

“Prick,” I mutter, and he chuckles as he pulls the vial from the machine. He hands me the vial and the pipette before grabbing the microscope down from the cabinets above us. I carefully pipe out a few drops of blood before handing him the vial to put in the next machine.

I drop the blood onto a slide, placing it under the microscope before peering into it. I start to adjust the settings, the blood coming into focus as I turn each knob. I feel warm breath on my neck and flinch slightly at the sudden intrusion. I didn’t even hear him walk over here.

“Well?” He asks, his voice soft as his breath continues to dance across the skin of my neck. I don’t respond, the fluttering in my chest getting worse. Any attempt to pay attention to the blood in front of me is abandoned, my attention instead drawn to the warm presence looming behind me.

“Let me look,” he mutters, and I move out of the way quickly to let him peer into the microscope. I exhale a shaky breath, steadying myself against the counter. Why did that affect me the way that it did?

Zayne hums under his breath, moving the dials on the side of the microscope with intense focus. “Grab me my notebook, will you?” He asks, and I mutter something about not being his servant before turning around and doing exactly what he asked.

His backpack, having been thrown in his rush to beat me, is lying on the floor. His notebook is on the ground, as well as several papers that had come flying out during the landing. I bend down to pick them all up, my eyes catching on a crumpled ball of paper lying near his notebook. Is that…?

I quickly unravel the paper ball, staring blankly as I realize what it is. Our notes from class. My eyes scan over the paper, smiling to myself as I think about my victory over him in that class period. My eyes reach the bottom of the paper, realizing that I never got to read the final thing he wrote to me.

“And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship,” my messy writing reads. His beautiful, loopy letters are lined underneath it, and I gasp as I finally process the words.

“How could I not spend the class staring at you? You’re so beautiful when you’re lost in thought.”

That now-familiar fluttering returns to my chest, this time with a thundering rhythm. I somehow feel both excited and nauseous at the same time, my head swirling with so many emotions. I definitely like him, don’t I?

I gulp down some air before picking up his notebook, letting our notes sit on the top as I walk nervously over to where he is standing. His eyes are still on the blood, but he lifts his head as he hears me approaching. I hand him the notebook, our notes being the first thing he sees as he looks down.

He pauses, his breath seemingly caught in his throat. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, and he looks back up to me with wide eyes. “Or are you just saying that to ‘keep me on my toes’?” I ask, and he pauses for a moment before responding.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks, and I pray that I’m not blushing as much as I think I am. I push the notebook into his arms, not saying anything as I turn back to the microscope.

I attempt to keep my focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the rampant pounding of my heart. Zayne drops the notebook onto the table next to us, his breath now resuming its place on the back of my neck. I can’t help but lean into his warmth, and he puts his arms on either side of me to rest on the counter.

“What do you see?” He asks, his voice husky in my ear. I try to focus, not wanting to let him know how much control he has over me. If he knows how affected I am, he’ll win. I inhale a shaky breath, bringing my eyes down to the blood in front of me.

“I-it looks… normal. To me, at least,” I mutter, and he moves back a bit so that I can turn around and face him. His sharp gaze never leaves my face, glancing slowly from my eyes to my lips.

“I noticed that, too. Looks like you might have been right,” he hisses, and despite the frown on his face, another emotion seems to glimmer in his eyes. The air between us is thick, his face mere inches from mine. His breath smells sweet, with light notes of peppermint dancing across it.

Heels clack, somebody quickly approaching from down the hallway, and Zayne quickly moves away from me as the door to the lab opens. Jenna enters, her eyes wide as she notes our presence in the room. Thanks for moving, Zayne.

“You two? I should’ve known you would be here. Such hard workers,” she praises, and I smile nervously as my blush grows deeper.

“Thank you, Doctor. We wanted to get a head start on that blood for the patient with the hurt leg,” Zayne tells her, and I nod along with him. Jenna nods, placing her purse down on the table by the door.

“I’m here for the same reason, actually. Any news?” She asks, seemingly unaware of the tense scene she had walked in on.

“We’re still waiting on one last test, but it appears that they were right. No adenoma,” Zayne admits, and I am floored by how easily he has admitted defeat. Jenna just nods in response, taking a sip out of her coffee mug before putting on some gloves of her own.

“Great work, you two. I’ll wait for that last test. Go home and get some rest,” she tells us, and Zayne opens his mouth to argue. “No, I insist. You guys don’t get paid for overtime, and I do. It’s better for everyone,” she winks, and Zayne concedes defeat. We grab our backpacks, thanking Jenna profusely as we leave the lab and enter the hallway.

Zayne doesn’t say a word as we walk down the hall, and I consider several different things I can say. “I win?” No, maybe “I told you so?” Or should I just leave it alone? I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dark room before I can begin.

“Zayne-” I begin, but he shushes me as locks the door behind him with a click. We are in one of the empty patient rooms, a clean and perfectly made bed sitting in the center of the room. He quickly shuts the curtains to the room, leaving only the small lamp in the corner to illuminate us.

I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s on me before I can get a single word out. His lips press against my own, almost hungry as bites my bottom lip. I can’t help but moan into his mouth, my lips moving aggressively against his as he pushes me against the door behind me.

One of his hands finds my hair, pulling slightly on my ponytail, which coaxes another moan from my mouth. His other hand finds the side of my face, pulling me even closer to him as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I part my lips, letting him search my mouth with a ferocity I’ve never seen from him before.

I pull away for air, and he groans impatiently. “Zayne, where is this coming from?” I ask as he begins moving his lips down my face and onto my neck. A mewl escapes from my parted lips as he finds a particular spot in the crook of my neck, sucking on it roughly. “Zayne!” I say again, practically breathing out his name.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” he whispers in between his kisses on my neck. “I love how aggressive you get, and how competitive you are... And- fuck- the way you talk to me? So bratty,” he moans out the last word, nipping at my neck with his teeth. I let out a yelp, and he licks the bite apologetically.

He pauses, looking up at me from where he is kissing my neck. “This is okay, right?” He asks, his eyes almost pleading. I scoff, pushing his head back towards my neck.

“Better than okay, Zayne.”

He groans against me, kissing me once more on the neck before tearing the lab coat off of my shoulders. He takes his off as well, licking along the column of my neck as he throws it to the floor. Without warning, he puts his arms around my bottom and lifts me in the air. I gasp, and he walks us over to the hospital bed as he presses another aggressive kiss on my lips.

He lays me on the bed, hiking my skirt up until my entire lower half is exposed. My underwear is now soaked, and he seems to notice almost immediately. A grin spreads across his face as he feels me through my underwear, the friction of the fabric against my clit making me hiss in a breath.

“We’ve only just started, and you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice. I try to think of something snarky to say, but his finger feeling me through my underwear sends another jolt of pleasure through my body.

He chuckles darkly, pulling his hand away. I let out a whine of protest, but his hands move up to his neck as he begins to loosen his tie. I watch the tendons in his hands flex, the beauty of just this small part of him enough to captivate me. He notices me staring, slowing his movements as his long, dexterous fingers untie the knot around his neck.

“I want those in me so bad,” I admit, and he smirks as he finally takes off his tie. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, each release of a button showing me more and more of his toned torso. He doesn’t take the shirt all the way off, instead choosing to let his lay open against his chest.

“Your turn,” he mutters, eyeing my clothed chest with impatience. I take the hint, quickly moving my fingers to unbutton my shirt. I manage to get most of them unbuttoned, my bare breasts finally exposed to the cold hospital air. Before I can finish unbuttoning it, though, Zayne pounces.

His thumb finds my nipple, already peaked due to the chill of the hospital room. He tweaks the tip of my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine as I arch my chest up into him. “So eager,” he moans, doing the same to the other nipple.

He lowers his head, taking one of my nipples in his warm mouth as he kneads my other breast with his hand. I curse as his tongue circles my nipple, the pleasure rippling through my body in waves. I almost beg him to come back when he finally pulls away, but he moves too quickly for me to get a word out.

His thumb hooks on my soaked underwear, pulling it down my legs before throwing it in the pile of lab coats next to him. He pauses, slowly rolling up his sleeves as I lay utterly bare before him. The sight alone sends another wave of pleasure through me. His eyes never leave me, finally rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and exposing his toned forearms.

He bends down on the floor in front of me, gripping my legs and pulling me towards the edge of the bed. I yelp in surprise, attempting to close my legs. He forces them back open with ease, positioning himself in between my legs as he looks up at me.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He smiles, lowering his head down until his warm breath is dancing across my exposed pussy. I shiver, and he finally licks up my vagina until he reaches my clit. I shudder out a breath as his tongue swirls circles around it, moving torturously slowly. He brings his hand up to where he is working, slowly pushing a finger in and letting it curl inside me.

“F-Fuck, Zayne,” I moan, my hand coming down to find his hair and grabbing tightly. He just moans in response, the vibration against my clit sending me reeling. He puts a second finger inside me, massaging my walls with delectable pressure. I pull harder on his hair, which only makes him thrust into me with more intensity.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he moans into me, before resuming the work of his tongue on my clit. I feel my orgasm finally begin to build, the tension in my lower half beginning to reach its peak.

“Zayne, please,” I mutter, but my pleas are not enough. He pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as the cold air hits my exposed cunt. “Z-Zayne,” I whine, and he just makes a tsk noise.

“So needy,” he tells me, and I whine again as I feel my orgasm start to retreat. I hear the clink of metal and watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather from the loops of his belt and letting it fall to the floor. He quickly unbuttons his slacks, letting them hit the floor at his feet.

All that’s left are his boxers, the only thing keeping me from what I want. When he doesn’t take them off, I sit up and move to take them off myself, kneeling down on the ground in front of him. He just grabs my wrists, making that tsk noise yet again.

“Patience is one of the most important traits a doctor can have, you know,” he murmurs, taking a moment to rub his thumb over my swollen lips.

“Says the guy fucking me in a doctor's office instead of asking me on a date first,” I answer back, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking on it teasingly. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t quite hide the hunger now sparkling in them.

He pulls down the boxers, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side impatiently. His length is now fully exposed, and I almost start to feel nauseous just from the idea of it going in me. “There’s no way,” I whine, and he seems to think this is hilarious.

He pushes the tip of his dick towards me until it is tapping against my lips, rubbing teasing circles until I finally take him in my mouth. I take in just the tip, letting my tongue catch the small dots of precum and swirling my tongue around teasingly. He twitches at each rotation, and I can’t help but smile onto his cock.

I start to move slowly down the shaft, but there is no way I am fitting it in its entirety down my throat. Instead, I bring my hands to the bit left over and massage it roughly, my head bobbing faster as his hands reach my ponytail.

“F-fuck,” he manages to groan, his hand grasping my ponytail tightly as he helps move me up and down his length. His movements get sloppier, his legs shaking as his release approaches faster and faster with each bob.

Before he can finish, I pull my mouth off of him with a sinful pop. I stand back up, staring directly into his eyes as he looks down at me. Sweat is dripping from his hair now, a few shivers still racking his body as he stands bare in front of me. His cock is throbbing, and I watch as his pleading eyes turn to pure lust.

He pushes me back onto the hospital bed, and as I turn to try and escape, he manages to catch me around the waist. My back is now to him, my ass pressed firmly against his rigid length behind me. I can’t help but moan, letting him tease me by grinding into my backside.

“Please,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear as he pleads into it. He pauses for a moment, biting down lightly on my earlobe. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you now,” he mutters again, letting one of his hands move back to my clit.

I lift my head over my shoulder, managing to reach his lips with my own as I give him a small peck. He presses his finger down harder on my clit, and I let my head fall again as I grow weak from pleasure.

“Say it,” he pleads again, his finger rubbing circles on me with a delectable pressure. I struggle to find the words, breathless from his length still grinding against my backside.

“P-please, fuck me. Oh G-God,” I manage to mumble out, and he doesn’t wait a second longer before he bends me over. His dick finds my folds, rubbing against them teasingly before slowly sliding into me.

He starts with just the tip, easing in and out a few times before finally pushing himself in fully. I have to bite back the scream that threatens to escape from me, the sensation of suddenly being so full of him almost too much to handle.

His thighs slap against my ass as he thrusts in again, his fingers digging into my hips as he moves me on him. I can already feel his fingers leaving bruises on me, and I suddenly feel grateful that the lab coat covers so much of my body when I wear it.

One of his hands finds its way up to my ponytail, yanking back on it roughly and sending my face upwards. He groans again, using my hair to help him thrust in even deeper than before. His cock rams over and over again into my G-spot, the release in my stomach building more with every thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hand leaving my hair and instead moving around my waist. It presses down on my stomach, making my walls even tighter around him. He shudders, his arms wrapping around me in something close to a hug as he continues pounding into me.

I’ve nearly reached my peak when he brings his hand back down towards my clit. Rubbing quick circles around it as he thrusts even faster. It hits me, nearly blindingly, and I feel my body start to spasm. My legs are shaking, my orgasm making me clench tighter around his cock.

He lets out a curse, nearly whimpering as he finally falls apart. His grip around me tightens as he finishes, shooting deep inside me and somehow filling me up even more. He continues thrusting, his cock now throbbing as he finally slows down.

We let the spasms run their course, each of our bodies twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all. I finally collapse, his large body moving to cradle mine in the twin-sized hospital bed below us. Our foreheads touch as he presses a soft kiss to my lips, sweat dripping from both of us as he smiles stupidly at me.

“I’ve never seen you so disheveled before. You’re usually so well put together,” I mumble, marveling at the way the top student in our class heaves out a shaky breath and caresses my face with his hand. He kisses my lips again before trailing the kisses back down to my neck.

As he kisses the bruised spot on my neck, I lean down and put my mouth right next to his ear.

“Zayne: 2. Me: 2,” I whisper, and he stops kissing my neck immediately. He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a deadly seriousness.

“Looks like we’ll need a tiebreaker then, huh?”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, and he just gives me a devilish grin before trailing the kisses back down my neck, moving lower with each one.

⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚ ⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆ ˚｡❆˚⋆｡

THANKS FOR READING GUYS! And thank you to the person who left this ask. I had so much fun researching for this one and ended up texting my biochemistry major friend to ask for help (hiiiiiii Rich, if you're reading this).

I'll have the other asks I've received posted soon, I promise!

-Robbie

#love and deepspace #smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #lnds zayne #zayne x mc #zayne lads smut #zayne smut

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hypernova-writes · 1 day ago

Text

The Doctor's Match

Synopsis: The Administrator has decided to finally give Medic some much needed help on the battlefield, despite the male insisting he doesn't need it. But what happens when the Mad doctor finally meets his match?..

Pairing(s): Medic x 10th Class! Reader focused Pairing Name?: Medical Malpractice (Medic/The Nurse), Length: 3.4k words

A/n: GUYS GUYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSSS, I was inspired by some of my fellow writers who are writing fanfics where they make the reader a specific class!! (Speaking of which I HIGHLY suggest the Respawn Malfunction Fic by the lovely the-teufort-nine)

"Ach, I don't really need help Miss Pauling, vhile I appreciate zhe thought—"

Medic was caught off by Miss Pauling's sheepish grin and hand raise. "I know I know, but think about it. You'll have help with surgeries, everyone wouldn't be screaming your name on the battlefield.. unless you like that—"

Medic tapped his glove to his chin. While he didn't necessarily need the help, it would be a great assistance to not have hear everyone screaming "MEDIC" on the battlefield. And to have someone who was on his level, that thought just like him when it came to medicine and other scientific discovering's?

It didn't sound that bad.

But then again, what if this person could be just as annoying as his teammates? What if they didn't help him out as he thought they would? He couldn't risk that!

However, on the flip side...what if they are perfect? They help him on the battles field, they help him with studies that he wanted to conduct. They might even let him experiment on THEM!

He hummed and sighed before dropping his hands to his side.

"Fine, Fine. I vill accept zhis..'help'."

"Good! Cause she'll be here tomorrow!"

Medic didn't have time to process what Miss Pauling had said because she left so quickly, rambling off about finishing finalization before their newest member gets there.

"She?.." Medic trailed off before he left his office to go and join the others in the dining area. Dinner was just being prepared when Scout called out to Medic.

"Ayyeee Doc! You heard about that newbie we getting? Hope he can keep up wit ya!" The rambunctious Boston yelled and Medic only rolled his eyes as he took a seat.

"I can only hope zhat SHE can deal vith the daily stupidity zhat I deal vith each day." Medic corrects Scout and that draws attention from some of the others.

"Oh? So our new help is going to be a Woman?..I pray for her." Spy muttered as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "Wonder what made zhe little lady chose here?"

"Don't kno', but it's best we treat her wit' respect fellas, she could be mighty useful round here when Medic is busy." Engineer chimed in. "Best to have two docs than one."

"Da, Engineer is right. Little lady can make big difference in life or death in battle. We treat her like we treat Doctor." Heavy adds on making Medic nod along.

"Zhere should be nothing to vorry about~, she'll be trained under zhe best!" "That makes me worry even more, I hope she's not a nutcase like you are-" "Vhat vas zhat Scout?" "Nothin'! Nothin' at all doc…"

Medic huffed as he fixed his labcoat. "Zhat's vhat I thought." He muttered before he walked back to his lab. When he walked in, he already saw a second door already installed in his medbay, kinda of similar to the one that led to his private quarters. But it had a different medical like logo. ‘Zhey work fast..” he thought as he decided to go into his room.

He needed to prepare for the new guest coming tomorrow

The mercs were all sitting together after another successful day of kicking BLU ass.

Scout, Soldier, Demoman and Pyro were sitting together, Spy and Sniper were playing cards, Engineer was moving around some things in the kitchen and Heavy was with Medic at a separate table.

Soft humming could be heard coming down the Hallway, along with a suitcase being dragged behind light footsteps. The click of heels against the hard floor of the base echoed, they didn’t really pay any attention to the sounds assuming it was Miss Pauling bringing something that they needed to go over.

That was until they heard the voice.

"Hello there fellas~!"

The guys all lifted their heads to see a woman, dressed in long nurses dress with a pretty white apron over it. She had a matching logo patch to Medic's with a syringe over the cross, she wore pink gloves that went up to her elbows, her hair was neatly tucked back into a low bun with the nurses hat on. She had a big smile on her face as she walked further into the room drawing all attention to her.

"My name is Y/n, and I will be your new nurse around these parts~! Now could someone please kindly tell me who is your head Medical specialist.?"

Scout rolled his eyes before he allowed a sly smirk to come across his face. "I wouldn't call him a professional toots…but he's ova there wit the large guy."

The woman, Who they now know is Y/n, thanks Scout with a pretty smile that had the young male blushing already but Spy knocked him in the back of the head.

“Oi! What the hell was that for??” “You’re making googoo eyes at zhe new hire.” “What? She’s cute! Ow! Seriously man! That hurts! “Zhen stop being such an idiot.”

Medic and Heavy were engrossed in a conversation when Y/n walks up next to them and starts to introduce herself.

“Hello! I was told that one of you was the doctor here, I’m going to guess it’s you sir..” She says pointing to medic. Medic looked her up and down and his heart felt like it was doing tricks already.

She was…beautiful.

She was everything that he had imagined in his head last night. Her beauty, her kindness, and Medic could already tell that a little something…unhinged lay right beneath the surface.

Heavy had to nudge the male because he was just staring at the beauty in front of him. Medic quickly cleared his throat before giving a grin to her.

“Ah yes! Zhat vould be me! I am guessing jou are zhe nurse, yes?” He finally managed to get out, making the woman infront of him giggle as she sits down across from him.

“Yes that’s me! I’ve heard such good this about you! I can’t wait to work alongside you in the field!”

Medic nodded as he leaned on his hand as he listened to her ramble on about how much she loved nursing and how her experience on the field was sure to lighten his load and help him the best way that she could.

As she continued to speak, Medic just nodded along and occasionally added to the conversation. He was so focused on her, he was imagining the two of them in battle together, covering in the enemy teams blood. He couldn’t wait to do the uber heart surgery on her so he could see and feel her from the inside out…

“Medic.”

Oh how beautiful she would look beside him.

“Medic?”

Oh how beautiful she would look underneath him—

“MEDIC”

Medic jumped as he shook his head, Heavy shook his head as he looked at his fellow merc. “You spaced out, Little nurse said she was going to bed.” Heavy states and Medic sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he apologized to Y/n.

“Oh no no! You’re fine! I know you’re probably tired after this long day..” “Ja..The battle was very…tough.” Medic quickly says, making her giggle. “Oh well I'm not going to stop you, please go and get some rest for tomorrow!”

Y/n then backed away from the two males as she bowed and gave them a gentle wave. "Goodnight fellas! Can't wait to be beside you on the battlefield!" She happily exclaimed before she turned on her heel and left the room finally.

Once she left the room, Heavy looked over at Medic. “Medic is infatuated with little nurse.”

Medic looked at his friend and colleague, rapidly shaking his head. “Vhat? No! She’s just…really..amazing I guess. It’s rare to see someone as interested in the pursuit of science as I am!” He quickly says as he looked away from Heavy, pulling at his collar.

Heavy only chuckles as he pats Medic on his back. “You are terrible liar.”

Was all he said before he left Medic at the table alone to think. And of course, his mind went to the beautiful nurse that just graced their presence. He HAD to get to know her better.

He couldn’t just let her get away with messing with his head like this!

He will do it tomorrow! He would get to know her after working alongside her for the first time! After all, He had to know why a lovely lady like herself would come and work here and let alone be excited to work with someone like him…

Oh Boy, Did he quickly realize why he was so drawn to her.

She. Was. Crazy.

Once the Nurse set foot on the battlefield, that adorable and charming personality that she displayed to the others at dinner the other day was quickly replaced by a wicked bloodlust.

She was taking down the enemy teams left and right, assisting their teammates with a scary accuracy.

And she was smiling while doing it.

Her main weapon? A large syringe, one that he witnessed her stab and spear the enemy team, harvesting their blood and using it almost as some sort of wicked power source. He could've sworn that hearts formed in his eyes as he looked upon her on the battlefield. She didn’t care that she was getting blood on her at all, the way that it splattered across her clothes and she wore it with excited glee.

He was so busy day dreaming that He wasn’t paying attention, leaving him open for a backstab from the enemy Spy when he heard her call out to him.

“DOCTOR BEHIND YOU!” Medic didn’t have time to turn around before he saw the enemy spy...with a syringe needle through his back.

He stood back watching as his body turned to goop, and was collected by the Nurse, seeing it go into her own medivac.

“Are you alright? I followed the bastard after he tried to backstab, Engineer.” Y/n said to him as she offered her hand, helping Medic from the ground.

She holds his hand for a little bit as she checks over him, making sure that he wasn’t injured at all. She places her hand on his chest, making Medic jolt as she did it so suddenly. “Are you alright? Your heart is beating quite fast..”

Medic coughs into his hand before he backs away, nodding at her question. “Ja, I’m okay..Guess my heart rate is up after almost being backstabbed…”

Y/n gave him an eyebrow rise before she accepted his answer.

“Alright..if you say so. Then, Let’s go Doctor. I can hear our teammates screaming for us now.” Y/n turns to leave, expecting Medic to follow.

And follow he did, intrigued as he watched as she pressed a button on her MediVac, watching as she placed her syringe into a slot, and watched as the blood started to bubble and boil, turning into a molten weapon.

Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a wink before she ran off to go and cater to their injured teammates. Leaving him once again, speechless. He could feel a shiver trail down his spine as a smile broke out across his face.

“Mein..Gott..she's perfect…” He mumbled to himself.

He watched as Y/n reached over to Scout, shooting him with a syringe, the Bostonian yelled in pain before feeling a surging feeling. He suddenly cheered and gave Y/n a high five before running back into battle. Healing syringes, he remembered her talking about it briefly the night before.

She was so giddy and excited to have someone to ramble about her work, that Medic stayed nearly all night with her despite knowing that they had to be up the next morning. But that didn’t matter, seeing her happy, talking about a subject that most would squirm and ignore was all he needed.

God...was he falling in love with his colleague?! She had only been here for a few days, yet the bubbly and giddy nurse had managed to worm her way into his heart in less than a week.

Never has someone made him so weak in the knees whenever they would look his way.

Mein gott was he embarassing—

“ Medic! I need you!” “Coming Mein Nurse!~”

Y/n giggles as she shows off to Medic. Her main weapon, the syringe was used to collect samples, blood samples of the enemy and turn that into boiling liquid, almost like scalding water, giving the enemy team a burning and scalding effect that worked perfectly alongside Pyro.

She had a syringe Gun as well, filled with different syringes of various effects, some that could heal her teammates, some That could burn and melt the enemy skin, it all depended on who she aimed it at, as he saw earlier with her little display on Scout.

“Ahh..could you believe i almost lost my medical License because of this technology, I guess they didn't like me testing on murderers..” She mentioned sparking Medic's interest.

“Vait, jou made this yourself?” He asked and she nodded proudly. “Mhm! Did all the research Myself, I was a bio-chem major before I turned to nursing.” Y/n answered. “Took me a couple months to perfect, nearly burned a hole through my lab floor.

The two of them were walking together and just talking About previous experiments and things that they have done.

“Wait, you stole a skeleton?” “Several actually, it's how I lost my medical license.” Y/n giggled at that, before reaching for his hand. “You know, I could use mine, if..you ever needed..help,”

Medic froze a bit, her hand felt small in his as he grasped her hand, the two of them ended up facing each other.

“Jou..vould do zhat? For me?” “Of course~, Ya know , it's not everyday when you find someone who's so persistent in the pursuit of science like you.” “Oh really now?” “Yes really! It’s the least I could do for making you listen to my rambling about needles for two hours.”

Medic couldn't stop the smile that spread to his lips. “Jou know, I could listen to you read zhe most boring book in zhe vorld and I vould never get tired. “

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she felt his hand come up to caress her blood soaked cheek. “Oh Medic..you’re just saying that..”

Medic chuckles and he was about to speak again when a loud yell broke through.

“Oi! Doc! Need some Help ova here! Could you stop makin’ googoo eyes wit the nurse!?”

Oh right, they were still in battle.

“Ve'll continue zhis later.” “We shall.”

The two of them readied their gear again as Y/n grasped his hand tightly turning to him with a smirk.

“Let’s go practice Medicine~” She says to him and Medic feels like his body was just lit on fire by pyro as a wolfish grin appears on his face.

When they would reach the enemy team, Y/n would signal to Medic that she was ready and he would nod to her before he would turn on his uber charge. He had only done the surgery on her yesterday, and while he was excited to see how it would work on a new host…

He hoped that it wouldn’t harm her.

Once he activated it Y/n jolted a bit before she started that boiling mass of liquid in her backpack. Medic watched as it was almost like she was spraying hot oil onto the enemy, They moved through the enemy, mowing them down like they were nothing but bugs underneath their feet.

...God did she look like a glowing red goddess...

The entire time Y/n was…laughing, giggling as she used her weapon on the enemy. Giddy as she saw how their bodies basically melted into nothing but BLU goo. It sent a shiver up his spine when she turned to him and gave him that award winning smile with a wink

He watched as the rest of their team came in to help capture the final point, most of them careful to step over or around the various piles of goo around the point.

The Uber charge wore off and Y/n squealed with glee before she ran up to Medic and grabbed his shoulders. “Oh my GOD that was AMAZING!!” She screamed with delight, once again catching Medic off guard.

“Ach..it vas nothing, it vas most—” Medic didn’t get to finish his sentence before he felt himself being dipped, and a pair of lips being pressed against his own.

Medic turned a bright red as his glasses fogged up. He felt light headed and when she finally let him up, they were declared the winners as they had successfully claimed the last point. When he regained himself, Y/n was standing infront of him with a big smile on her face as if she didn’t just KISS HIM.

“Did jou just–” “Yes i did. Would you like me to do it again?”

Medic looked back as he saw his teammates already heading back in, talks of celebrating and what they were going to eat in the air. Medic chuckles as he lifted the nurse into his arms.

“Ja, I vould…but if forgive me if i’m greedy and vant more~”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to blush as Medic carried her back inside to continue their own little form of celebration for winning.

“Man, I don't know if it's a blessin’ or a curse we got that nurse!”

Scout groaned as he knocked back a bonk! Atomic Punch, Engineer, who was playing cards with Demo and Soldier, tilts his head.

“What makes ya say that boy? I think it's great the Doc has himself A lovely lady that can keep up with him.” He chuckles as he turned back to the card game, watching as Scout took a seat with them.

“That's the problem! They are both nuts! I overheard them talking about doing surgery on each otha’ to put their hearts in each otha's body! That's weird!”

“Well, Son, that might just be their form of love-” “Then i pray dat form of love neva finds me!"

Engineer laughs as Demoman pats His back. “Aye lad, are ya still mad that the doc almost let you die because he was flirtin’?

“No! I'm just sayin’! They are weird!” “He's definitely still upset!” “I agree with Engineer!” “Course ya do Soldier! You prolly don't even know what we're talking about!”

Y/n and Medic were definitely closer after that battle, they were wrapped around each other's fingers. Always around each other.

When they had mission debriefing, she was sitting in his lap.

When it was time for their checkups? They were definitely giving PDA.

Speaking of which, the duo walked past them heading to the door.

Scout groaned in frustration before he looked up seeing Medic walking with Y/n. “And where are yall headin’ Out to? Ain't dinner about to start?”

Y/n smiles as she hugs Medic's arm. “Luddy has prepared a picnic for us~! We're going outside to enjoy each other's company, and talk about medical stuff~”

Medic nuzzled her forehead. “Ja, mein liebling and i vill be busy for the rest of the night, so please don't have any medical emergencies, jou might not like what you walk into.”

The duo laughs together as Medic leads her outside, opening the door and closing it behind them, leaving their coworkers To go back to what they were doing.

“Ugh..disgusting!” “Sounds like you're jealous sonny.” “How!? Jealous of what?” “Affirmative! Sounds like you are jealous that he has a proud American woman!” “Is she even bloody american?” “Course she is! That woman is a pure blooded American soldier!”

The four men ended up bickering about this, while Heavy who was coming from the kitchen quickly interjected.

“Lets just be happy Doctor has met match.” He started. “Means no more experimenting on us when he has a willing participant. She is perfect for him. Just a crazy as doctor.”

The others went quiet and Scout, the main one who was making a fuss crossed his arms. “I guess tons of fun ova’ here is right.”

Heavy rolled his eyes at Scout before taking a seat. “Deal me in. Besides. Tomorrow is ceasefire. Doctor is gonna be busy with little nurse.”

“What do ya mean by dat?” “I think you know what I mean.” “You could've jus’ Left us in the dark with that info Son.” “if I had to suffer listening to doctor ramble about it, you do too.” "NONSENSE THEY ARE JUST DISCUSSING BATTLE STRATEGIES" "Yea if strategies included fucki- OW WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM YA SPOOK!?" "I've been here zhe entire time, could you all please just deal zhe cards and not talk about what our doctors are doing."

GAHHH FINALLYYY ITS DONNNEEE

I plan on writing more with them, so be prepared for more Medical Malpractice— but until then, please be safe and take care of yourselves!

#tf2 fandom #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 x reader #tf2 fanfic #team fortress 2 #tf2 #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress 2 imagines #medic tf2 #tf2 medic #medic x reader #medic team fortress 2 #tf2 medic x reader

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man-i-love-fanfiction · 2 days ago

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To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem! Florist!Reader

Chapter Four: Poppies - Imagination

Summary: You finally get to visit Andrew at his workplace, and he discovers a not-so-new way to handle his feelings.

Word Count: 2711

Author's note: Hope you're all enjoying! Sorry again for having such a splotchy posting schedule, between holidays and getting the flu I was... preoccupied. Anyways, have a chapter of your favorite tattoo artist yearning his heart out as compensation 🖤

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3

fic below the cut <3

It had been three days since you had gotten coffee with him, and all Andrew could think about was you. It was getting a little concerning. Concerning to him, at least. He was a grown man, who was he to have — for lack of a better word — a crush? Let alone one he was too embarrassed to express his feelings for?

It was close to torture, but he had no right to complain. He had brought this upon himself, and he accepted it. He asked a woman, particularly one he thought was beautiful, to get coffee with him, paid for her, and still ended the whole affair with their relationship being at most friends and at the very least acquaintances. Stupid idea, and the definition of a missed opportunity. Alex had already berated him over this decision (“What do you mean you bought her coffee, just the two of you, and you didn’t even attempt to drop a hint that you like her?”). And it’s not like he didn’t torture himself over it, thoughts randomly popping up telling him what he could’ve or should’ve said or done. The regrets he had, no matter how minuscule they were, ate away at him when he had nothing else to think about. All because of a choice he made and a label he refused to give. What a way to self-sabotage.

Everything about you, from how you met to how easily your conversations flowed, was magnetic, pulling his thoughts (and him) towards you. The serendipity of it all was like he had been transported into one of those overly saccharine romantic comedy movies he would sometimes catch his mother watching. What was the term she had used once? A meet-cute?

The slight vibration of his phone in his pocket brought him back to his reality. A call from an unknown number. Usually, he would hang up, or at least ignore it. But he was in between clients, and more importantly, a little bored. So he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Y/N. From the florist.” Andrew let out a sigh of relief at the sound of your voice. “That end of the world you were warning me about last time never happened, so I had enough time to finish your bouquet.”

He chuckled at that, a lighter sound than he intended.

“That’s fantastic. Both the world not ending and the bouquet being ready.”

“Is it alright if I swing by soon?

“Yeah. I’m on my lunch break in between clients, so I’m free.”

“Perfect. See you in…” you paused, which he surmised was you mentally calculating how long it would take you to get there before continuing, “about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He grimaced as you hung up the phone, and true to his word, he waited. His time was occupied with sketching a design for an appointment he had in a few weeks, Alex hanging around with him. Immediately, everything was put down when you walked in. Fifteen minutes later, just like you had told him, he heard the bell above the door ring. He watched as you opened the door, tightly gripping a vase containing the flowers, letting in a beam of sunlight with your entrance.

“I’ve got one order of a chrysanthemum arrangement for Andrew?” You announced, feigning not knowing who he was.

“Great, you're here. Let me take that off your hands.”

He rushed over and grabbed the bouquet from you, and in a moment he had to remember to thank the gods for later, his fingers brushed yours, making his heart rate spike so suddenly he almost had a medical issue.

God, he was pathetic.

“Thank you so much for this. You never fail to amaze me.”

“Of course. You can keep the vase, by the way. Free of charge.”

He looked down at you, his brows furrowed but a smile still on his face.

“You are physically incapable of not being nice to me, huh?”

“Please. I do this for all of my orders. You're not special,” you joked, and he scoffed in reply.

“Wow… and I thought we were friends!”

“I’m just humbling you a little. Besides, I can't let other customers think I have favorites. It's unprofessional.”

“Favorites? Plural? Do I have competition?”

“Yes. It's you and a little old lady that orders centerpieces for her dinner parties. Don't go beating her up for the top spot.”

A beat passed before a mischievous smirk came across your face.

“Though, I am a fan of a guy that would fight in my honor.”

Not being able to sense your tone, Andrew swiftly changed the topic, unsure and unwilling to think about how he'd throw a punch for you.

“So, you used flower language for this, right? What's it all mean?”

You smiled, and the way your face lit up gave him a rush, a sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach. He listened intently, despite his urges to focus on you and not the words you were saying.

“Alright, I’ll give you a quick rundown of the meanings. Chrysanthemums are joy, of course. There are some sunflowers, specifically dwarf sunflowers, because they represent pride, like how you’re proud of your work, hopefully. Orange roses for fascination. And last but not least, calla lilies for magnificence and beauty, like what you create here. Hopefully you and your colleagues like it.”

He couldn't help the incredulous laugh that cane at the end of your statement.

“Are you kidding me? It's beautiful. Of course I like it,” he reassured. You didn't verbally reply, but the new warmness of your features was all the response he needed.

He paid, making a comment along the way about how he almost left his wallet at home this morning, but caught himself: “I promise I’m not forgetful, just… all over the place.” You listened, seemingly actually invested, and took the money from him once he offered.

“Thank you. You are single-handedly keeping my small business afloat.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, both out of confusion and concern.

“Are you not doing well?”

“I mean, we're making sales, meeting the quotas we should be. Barely. But we're not exactly a hotspot anymore. It's not common for people to get flowers, and if they do they get cheap bouquets cheaply made at a grocery store or online. People these days don't bother to make an effort.”

He observed you as you thought for a moment, a pause only he could have read into. He could’ve sworn you looked him up and down, though his hopeful imagination could have tricked him. There was more optimism in your tone this time around.

“You do, though. Make an effort, I mean. I appreciate it. You might be the only guy I know that does.”

Your words were taken to heart, but he deflected your compliment, fearing he'd become too flustered if he let it linger.

“Is the bar truly that low?”

“That's not low! These days, finding a guy who tries is like winning the lottery.”

You barely gave him time to react before pulling out your phone, which had just vibrated in your pocket.He could already see the disappointment set into your features.

“Crap. I have to get back.”

He offered an understanding nod, knowing as much as he wished he could stay in this moment, reality had to set back in.

“I hate to say goodbye, but it was really nice to see you. And your place of work. Keep me posted on if the flowers help raise people’s spirits.”

“Goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“Quoting The Bard at me? So you’re an artist and a nerd. Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I am. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more soon enough. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye.”

The door closed behind you, leaving Andrew feeling a bit emptier now that you were no longer there. Finding the right time, Alex made his presence known again. Andrew was so focused on you he had almost forgotten he was in the room.

“So… that's the Y/N you keep talking about?”

“That's her.”

“The one you platonically took to a coffee shop?”

“The very same.”

Alex gave him a look: a squint accompanied by an oddly pensive expression, like he was trying to make the situation make sense.

“Is something the matter? Do… do you not approve?” Andrew asked. Alex replied slowly, cautiously.

“No, she seems wonderful. No complaints here. In fact, that’s the issue.”

“How so?"

“Maybe because you took a woman, an amazing one at that, on an outing that was a date in every aspect but its name. You essentially blocked yourself off from you two being romantic. It doesn’t make sense to me! How are you the same lad that would write love songs in college?”

“That was a decade ago! I’m more cautious now.”

“Oh, yeah. You're so cautious, in fact, that you started liking your florist. A woman that you've only met four times, including one time where you basically went on a date!”

Andrew felt a shame as if he had just been yelled at by a parent, though most of the sting came from the truth of his words. Only after he exhaled a deep sigh did Alex speak again.

“Listen, I don't mean to scold you. I’m only saying all this because I care about you. That being said, if you don't take this girl out sometime soon…”

“Alex!”

“I’m being serious! I was standing right there. I saw how you look at her and you're… enamored of the poor woman. If you don't do something about the way you feel— doesn't have to be soon, just eventually— then the only person that will regret it is you.”

Andrew gave a slow nod as he processed the other man's words. He hated how wise he could be sometimes.

“I… I need to find the right moment. I need to take my time.”

“Then take it. Just don't bottle up your emotions for too long. You don't handle it well. Plus, after a while of you blabbering on about the same person, it starts to get annoying.”

For the first time since you left, Andrew laughed, Alex joining in a moment afterwards.

“Alright,” he said, slapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “Let's get back to work.”

Andrew ruminated on his friend’s words on the drive home, his grip tightening on the wheel. As much as he hated to admit it, Alex was right; he did need to do something about what he felt for you. But he never did specify what.

It had been a while since he felt like this towards someone, so he wasn't lying when he said he needed to take his time. If he were to ever make a move on you, he would have to make sure he was certain. He didn't want to ruin your newly-labeled friendship, run the risk of throwing away something just starting, and something good. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use an alternative method to handle these feelings.

He stepped into his flat, and for the first time in recent memory it felt… empty. Not necessarily from the absence of friends or family, just absence. The empty seats at his table, on his couch, in his bed, they almost screamed at him. He had never realized that the silence of being alone was so deafening.

What better way to fill the silence than with music?

He got straight to work, his craving to create overriding any hunger for actual food he had. Despite his own better judgement, Andrew had written down the lyric he had absentmindedly created a few days ago in his phone. He considered continuing from there, but preferred to do things the old-fashioned way. So he grabbed a pen, sat down at his kitchen table, opened his notebook, and began to write.

I have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me…

He hadn’t opened himself up to this creative vulnerability in so long, so he was admittedly a little rusty. Words were crossed out, rearranged, and substituted with synonyms if the amount of syllables didn’t fit the rhythm. Eventually, after he had eased into it, it felt no different from when he sketched a stencil or tattooed a client. Oddly enough, the more he wrote and the more effort he put in, the more the lines continued to blur until he felt just as comfortable as he did at his job. Whether it be a tattoo gun or a ballpoint pen, Andrew was always in his element when he had ink.

There was also the added factor of what inspired all of this fervor to write: you. You kickstarted something in his brain, subconsciously flipping a switch. that made him more musical. Before you he would turn on the radio or shuffle his Spotify and merely admire whatever song was playing, but after you came into his life, his thoughts strayed more towards you: I could write something like this. About her.

Should he consider you his muse? He’d decide later on.

Time slipped away from him, to the point that he was shocked to look at the clock and find less than an hour had passed.

One last similarity between the two was discovered. He harbored a similar sense of pride after he had finished— or, more accurately, stopped himself after writing a verse and a chorus. Not a finished verse and chorus either, simply a rough draft to remind him how to get back into the mindset.

The only difference was the audience, or lack thereof. There was no way Andrew was letting anyone see this or even know about it. He would maybe, maybe, consider showing you one day. Even then, he could only imagine he’d want to shrivel up in a corner as you read it, or God forbid, as he sang it to you. He couldn’t dare to think about that now, even though the guitar resting against the wall in his bedroom was almost calling his name. He had to leave it there for now. He could barely handle writing for the day, let alone singing and playing. For now, he was taking baby steps.

Even if he could muster up the courage, there was no chance anything he wrote would be leaving the eyes of his friends and family. He was no poet, and no star. He already had a job that let him express himself and make meaningful pieces of art. For that, he was grateful. He could be happy with keeping the songs for himself, writing for only his own eyes, and letting what he created at his job be for the whole world.

The notebook — funny how such a small object now held a power over him — was closed and stuffed in an empty shelf space in his closet, an attempt at keeping it out of sight and out of mind. His attempt was semi-successful considering every step of the rest of his day was accompanied by the thought of it. Not the shame, just the knowledge of knowing he had written something. The shock of actually having the strength. It stuck with him until he went to bed that night, not even nearing sleep being able to offer him solace. He tossed and turned well into nightfall, until it got to the point that he was getting restless. And desperate. So he picked up his phone. To avoid simply doomscrolling until his eyes began to flutter, he found some website that detailed flower language and started to read.

He willingly went down a rabbit hole, keeping a separate tab open to search for flora he didn't recognize by name. He made mental notes of meanings he found particularly interesting. The last flower he read of before falling asleep was the poppy. It meant eternal slumber, coincidentally what he was longing for at the moment, but also imagination. It was almost perfect how poppies represented the day he had. This was his last coherent thought before he drifted off.

There was a third definition, one that also summarized his day, that Andrew’s eyes didn't stay open to read.

Oblivion.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #fanfic #hozier fanfic #hozier fanfiction #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #to share the space with simple living things

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lostinlovingrevery · 6 hours ago

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He's Definitely Obsessed With You

Origins! Logan X Fem!Reader

Plot: You're an army nurse, deep in the trenches of the Vietnam jungles, doing everything you can to keep yourself together, and the infantry that come into your tent. One day a soldier you aren't familiar with is brought in, and you find out something about him that leads to the start of an important relationship between you both that changes the course of your lives together...

A/N: This is basically the plot of Origins, but with my own spin on it with a Fem!Reader! This is my first time EVER writing an X reader, so comments appreciate! I plan to make this a series, but I wanted to put out a prologue first. Okay, it's not really a prologue and more like a chapter, and ended up being super long because I started writing and then didn't stop, and prologues are short- but IT'S MY STORY AND I'LL CREATE MY OWN RULES. The prologue is just how reader and Logan meet! (PS, there's eventual smut...Soon as I figure out how write it without getting embarrassed) Also, I'm still figuring out how to format on Tumblr, so please don't mind any funky design choices. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes somewhere in there

Warnings: Reader POV only (for now) Reader is female, also an army nurse, also a mutant- but powers aren't specified, blood mention, medical stuff talked about (like amputations), injury descriptions, Vietnam war and slight politics mention, probably a lot of historical inaccuracies i just googled things but I tried! implied reader could be religious but honestly there's nothing concrete to that. The only description of reader is her clothes and that she has hair, and wears makeup (lipstick). Reader has a hard on over Logan (she has a cruuuush), let me know if there's anything I missed!

Word Count: 4753

Prologue:

Rain rapped lightly along the top of the large tent, creating a soothing sound throughout. A radio, playing an american music station, played a rock song, of some new band slowly making a name for itself, sat nearby on a metal cabinet. Stacks of manila folders and papers were disorganized and spread, almost completely covering a desk. A clock ticks rhythmically. The tent was lined with cots, tables, ratty mattresses, IV stands, and small tables covered with empty food trays, water canisters, and paper cups filled pills. Some of the beds were taken up by injured men, snoring and groaning as they attempted to sleep, only slightly more comfortable here in the medical tent than out in the muddy, rainy trenches. It was monsoon season in Vietnam, and you were at your wits end with paperwork in the middle of a small but-not-that-small camp, set up not far from an American fire support base.

You were sitting at the desk, half asleep as you attempted to fill out another request form for medical supplies. Halothane, Methoxyflurane, Morphine, Penicillin - are common medicines that you find yourself constantly having to restock. Of course bandages, gloves, needles, saline, tubing, multiple surgical supplies, other things you find yourself low on often too, considering the amount of amputations, large and minor, that happen around here. The medical tent that you currently reside in was a revolving door of soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, as well as nearby villagers who come for aid after the American presence near their homes led to viruses they can’t combat on their own, or other unfortunate injuries if war breaks out in their village.

You were simply an army nurse, this was not your usual duty to perform, it was normally left to the assigned doctor of the camp. Your job was to assist the doctor, take care of the patients, administer medicine, IVs, change bandages, wet baths, feed them, and hold their hands as they cry for their momma and to God. You were busy enough, and the doctor, Doctor Frank Jones, who you were assisting had got shot by a stray bullet when out in the jungle, and had to be taken back to the main base, and back to the States. Due to a communication failure, his replacement ended up somewhere else, and transportation wasn’t an option due to the fighting happening.

Fortunately, Doctor Jones had seen potential in you and believed you would be an excellent doctor one day - something you wanted to pursue after your service was fulfilled. He became a mentor, helping you study and learn medicine, and giving you skills that an average nurse- even an army nurse- wouldn’t usually have. Now, it was just up to you, and a few young army medics - teenage boys who were given no choice in going to war, and their skills were found best in assisting injuries on the battlefield, but they were eager to help, and their light-hearted jokes and company helped relieve some stress for you, especially with the pain you watch day in and out. You didn’t always have the luxury of their help though, as when patrols went out, they required at least one of them to join. It leads you to have to order around other grunts who have no idea how to even measure the proper dosage of cough syrup for themselves whenever a serious injury comes in, having to give detailed orders on what to do- usually just getting you the supplies and medicine you need, as the grunts are typically too distracted and upset over their fallen brother to assist you in anything medical and complicated.

With being the only medical authority in the camp- as well as the only woman- you were well respected and popular. Your compassionate personality, and comforting presence, as well as your “Take-no-shit” attitude, led to soldiers of this camp visiting you all the time, usually making up excuses like having a cough, or a splinter in their finger, just so they could have the pleasure of your smile and encouraging words. The CO here made sure that they all treated you with respect, as a woman- and a nurse, so you never once felt unsafe- or unappreciated. Besides, a good section of this camp is young boys, too nervous about their situation to worry about trying to flirt with a woman like you. You're more of a comfort figure in these parts than anything else. Despite the stress and worry you face in day to day life, in the middle of the war, you were just happy to be doing something. You weren’t exactly a supporter of this war, but the moment you saw young boys lining up to go to war, something in you made you fiercely determined to follow, and do whatever you can to make sure those boys can go back home to their mothers and fathers.

The Rolling Stones was now playing on the radio, this was a band you were more familiar with - one of your favorites. Your foot tapped to the beat of the song, as you checked off another item you needed to be stocked up on- and hoped the supply chain doesn’t hold out on you again. For some reason, they seemed convinced that you must surely be lying about the supplies and will not send you the full amount of what you requested, leading you to storm into the CO’s tent on more than one occasion and rant to him with a few unsavory words about the supply lines commander. He always listens though, and does his best to get you what you can- which you can appreciate.

“Hey turn that up-” You heard one of the patients call out, and she smiles, reaching to the radio and turning the volume higher. She looked up from the desk to see one patient in bed moving his foot with the beat of the song, and the other, who asked her to turn it up, raised his arm in the air, hand in a fist as he rocked with the song. “This is a good one, hadn’t heard this one yet.”

“It came out in 65’ dumbass.” the other called out. “How’d you not know it?”

“I’ve been here since 64’ asshole! Think we always had access to a radio?”

They all chided each other, making you laugh as you shake your head, turning back towards your paperwork, determined to finish it today so you can send it out. It was rare you get these moments of quiet, so you appreciated it when you could. Things could turn on a dime in a second, especially since the fighting was getting closer to where this camp was set, and you’re hoping that you would get some help before anything serious came. You were just starting to get absorbed in the letter you were writing to the CO of the supply line, something slightly passive aggressive, when one of the soldiers yelled to you from outside.

“Hey! Nurse! There’s some guys coming this way! They got someone injured-”

You looked up, dropping your pencil, and turning the radio down as you readied yourself, brushing the pants of your army fatigues to straighten it out, and rolling your sleeves farther up your arms. You watched as the flaps of the tent get pulled open, as two men carry someone resting on a cot. You didn’t like how quiet the man was being.

“In here-” You lead them to another section of the medical tent, ment solely for treating wounded, in an attempt to keep something sterile and clean- well, as clean as you can get it. The soldiers set the man onto the table that sat in the center of the room, small trays and medical supplies, as well as a large overhead lamp that provided lighting to give you a better view at what you’re working on, surrounded the table.

“We got ambushed on patrol, fortunately he’s the only one that got hit, a VC jumped out of the grass and stabbed him. We got pressure on the wound, and he’s still alive- for now.”

You nodded as you went to a basin to pull on some sterile gloves, and walked over to examine the soldier. He was handsome- you couldn’t help but noticed but quickly put that out of your mind. A full head of deep beautiful brown hair, and a thick beard framed his face. He looked older, possibly in his mid 30’s. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as his teeth were gritted and eyes cinched shut in pain. A wave of sorrow hit you, as you never liked seeing people in pain, it hits you bad enough to wonder why you chose to go into the medical profession of all things. Nevertheless, you push through, and began working on removing the uniform so you can see if you can save this one. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Whats his name?”

“Logan ma’am. He’s Private First Class.” The private responds, voice professional, but quickly drops into something softer. “He’s a good guy, and smart, usually quick on his feet, its surprising someone ambushed him…”

“Need any help ma’am?” The other private who brought him in ask.

“No, I got it, thank you.” You tell them as you grab some sheers and began cutting through Logan's army garments. “Just make sure others are alright. See if any of the boys out there need water.”

They nodded, saluting- leading you to roll your eyes- and left your section of the tent, just as you manage to cut off the white wife beater he was sporting underneath his army garments, giving you a complete view of where he had been stabbed. You breathed a small sigh of relief, the wound appeared in the part of the torso where nothing vital was located and you managed to roll him to his side- seeing the stabbing didn’t go straight through, meaning this guy had a good chance of surviving, assuming he doesn’t succumb to infection…

“Alright Logan,” You turned you head to look at the man, who was still tense, eyes squeezed shut. He was somewhat awake, with his breathing and the way his muscles contracted, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on, you still felt it important to talk to whoever you were treating though. You had to hold the hands of many scared soldiers, and quickly have learned the right things to say when comforting. “I’m going to take care of you, and in return, you’re going to need to be strong for me here.” You say softly but firmly to him, hoping that he’s hearing you through the pain, as you went and quickly grabbed a wet cloth out of a basin nearby, squeezing out the excess water, and gently placing it over his forehead, in order to soak up some sweat, and provide some more comfort to cool his skin that seemed to be burning hot. You couldn’t help but note that you don’t recognize him- you wouldn’t have forgotten his face that’s for damn sure, if he’d ever came to visit you, which most privates in this camp has at one time or another. You shook the curiosity out of your head, you had to move quickly, fighting the urge to wanting to take in the details of his face- his very handsome face, and moved to focus back onto the wound on his torso.

You started by slowly removing the packed bandages, examining the blood flow to make sure nothing gushed, but he really wasn’t bleeding much anymore- actually, it didn’t look like he was bleeding at all now. Confused, you began cleaning the area of the stab wound so you could get a clear view of what you were looking at. At first, you thought you were losing your mind, you had to been because what you were seeing…

It was as if the skin was growing back, the wound, going inwards seemed to almost pop out, before the skin stitched together, going through what the bodys usual healing process would look like- except doing it within a matter of seconds. Turning from a bright red inflamed wound, into a baby pink scar bump that slowly faded off, you couldn’t even tell anything had happen there- except from the blood stained around it. You were blinking in disbelief, mouth slightly agape, before it suddenly occurred to you what you were just seeing.

Oh shit-

He’s a mutant.

You looked at the man, who’s muscles seemed to be relaxing now, as he took deeper breaths, the sweat on his face began to dry and disappear. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, you’re so used to every minute counting to fix someone, and this guy just healed himself in seconds!

And by god, he was so handsome. You thought that already, got to stop thinking about that. Turning away from his face, you went to examine where the stab wound used to be, gloved fingers gently pressing on the area- before the soldier- Logan, practically yelped- and sat up rushed on the table, startling you even more so than him, as you jumped back, hands in the air in surrender- as if you did anything wrong.

He was panting, the cold wet cloth you had placed on his forehead fell into his lap, as he looked around with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, he almost looked animal-like in this state. He turned to look at you. His eyes took you in, and suddenly you felt embarrassed by your army clothes you were sporting, green cargo pants, and a green collared button up shirt, tucked into your pants, making you feel less than girlish in them, despite their comfortability, your forehead was covered in sweat, and your hair pulled back in a bun neat bun with baby hairs sticking out everywhere. At least you had lipstick on to give yourself a little bit of a pop in your plain looking outfit. That should be the last thing you should be worried about.

“You’re okay-” You finally found your voice, holding your hands out to him, “You got ambushed, but you’re okay now.”

He blinked, then let out a small sigh, his whole self seeming to relax, his expression turned more human-like, as he faced forward, then looked down at himself. His hand went over where he had been hurt- seeing that there was no longer any injury there, although something in his expression told you he could still feel it. He swallowed, jaw tensing, before realization struck him, and his head snapped to look at you.

“You saw- You know, don’t you?” He asks, his voice was deep, but sounded a little dry and scratchy. Still, it was enough to make your knees weak.

You turned, going to a cabinet that held medicines and various other supplies, but on the counter was a pitcher of water and a few glass cups. Pulling off your gloves, you poured a cup from the pitcher, turning back and handing it to him.

“Yeah. I saw.” You say cooly, holding it out for him to take. He looked at you, his deep and should you think gorgeous hazel eyes felt like they were piercing your soul; as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head, which you wish you knew as well because his stare was making your brain fuzzy; then glanced at the cup and finally took it from your hand, your fingers brushing together, making your heartbeat just a little faster, and you could feel a small heat blooming in your cheeks.

Jesus christ, pull yourself together

You thought to yourself. You cleared your throat while he took several swigs of water, dropping his hand with the cup to his side as he took a moment to breathe once more.

“Got anything stronger?” He asks, his low and smoother now, quirking a brow at you. You smiled,

“Sorry, anything alcoholic you may want to drink in here, I gotta save for the guys who can’t heal themselves within minutes.” You say teasingly. “Supplies are low enough already.”

You could see a small quirk of his lips, in something resembling a smile. He was still tense though, his eyes seemed to be somewhere else. He looked at you again,

“Does it…scare you? Me being a mutant?” He asks, his voice low

“Um….No?” You responded, confusion on your face, a small shake of your head, “Why would it?”

He seemed relieved- and surprised by that answer, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he took another drink of water, eyes closing as he finished the cup, and handed it back to you, where you set it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he sat up more confidently, bending his leg as he brought his knee up to his chest, and propped his forearm over it, and leaned back on his other hand, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his head down, then looked back up at you, his expression suddenly stern.

“You gonna tell them?” He asks. You knew he was referring to the army. Mutants weren’t well accepted in the world- much less the US army. The American government is actually sitting comfortably in the capital and writing out bullshit laws on mutant regulations, rather than trying to figure out a solution for the war here in Vietnam. You, a mutant yourself, albeit your powers were easy to hide and conceal, you still feared of a day that someone somehow discovers your secret. You’ve heard stories of American soldiers revealed to be mutants being killed, due to some bullshit excuse that they “lied” about who they were, and couldn’t be trusted. Whether those stories were true or fearmongering to keep mutants hiding their true identities, you didn’t know, but you certainly weren’t gonna find out yourself. You definitely wouldn’t put another fellow mutant, just trying to survive like you, in any sort of danger like that, even if he could probably just heal if he got put in front of a firing squad.

You pursed your lips together. Then smiled. “No. I’ll keep your secret.” You say. “All it means to me is that I have one less person to worry about around here. I was actually wondering why I hadn’t seen your face in this tent yet before, and now I know why.”

He softened at that, but his face quickly fell back into something more serious and stern once more, which you’re starting to think might be his baseline.

“You okay?” You asked, your voice was soft, and sweet, and borderline angelic for a man like him, who’s been in wars almost his entire life- which you don’t know about that. “That probably didn’t feel good, what happened.” He nodded.

“M’ fine….Thank you.” He grumbles lowly, looking down at his hands. “I heard about you- actually I-I seen you around. You’re the only nurse on camp?” He asked, looking back up at you, there seemed to be a bit of curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah. I’m pretty popular.” You say, in a teasing voice, blushing at the thought that he’s noticed you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you are quite literally the only woman around, save for the women in the village not far from here.

“Must be busy.”

“Oh… Nah-” You playfully wave him off. “Some days are so slow, I’m actually bored.” You say matter-of-factly, but you both knew you were kidding. Another quirk of his lips. You smiled softly at him, but there was a voice in your head telling you, that since he doesn’t need your help, you should probably get back to helping the ones who do. Not that you want to leave, he was so damn handsome, you could stare at him all day. It wasn’t just his good looks though, his whole self drew you in with just a few words, and you find yourself wanting to get to know Logan, because the look in his eyes told you that he was someone worth knowing. Or maybe that was just your hormones talking. There was just this energy between you both, some type of unseen connection. His eyes trailed down you again, this time fully taking you in, stopping at your chest, and for a moment you were about to be completely turned off by this man being a pervert, but he nodded towards it.

“Your necklace?” He asked. You looked down, oh, you thought to yourself. You pulled the string of your necklace, lifting the small coin that it held, string carefully wrapped around it so it doesn’t fall off.

“It’s a prayer coin. A priest gave it to me.” You explained. “It’s the archangel Raphael. A protector, patron saint of medical workers, like doctors, nurses.”

“Like you?”

You nodded. He examined it, before you tucked it back under your shirt. You usually keep it hidden, but it must have fallen out while you were rushing. Now it was silent again, and you both weren’t sure what to do or say.

“Well….” You took a breath, you glanced down at his abdomen, and suddenly your brows creased in concentration.

“What?” He asked, by your sudden change in demeanor.

“You can’t exactly walk out with no injury. Those two privates were pretty worried about you.” You say, putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips together. You clicked your tongue.

“I can figure something out-”

“No no-” You held your hand up and looking around the room. “Those privates brought you in, there’s probably an incident report written right now, not to mention I have to write a report on your injuries too-” you explained. “I mean, how are you gonna explain it if you walk out, completely A-okay?”

Logan shrugged simply. “I can think of something, it isn’t the first time this happened.” You rolled your eyes. Men.

You rather not waste bandages on a pretend injury, but you need someway to get his injury to look believeable, thats when you spotted your answer. His white tank top that you had drop to the floor, it was good enough to wrap around him, making him look as if he’s been all fixed up from his stab wound. The shirts cotton texture looked similar to the pattern of a bandage, and was good enough, especially considering no one would be looking hard enough at his wound anyway.

After a few minutes of “fixing him up” with your solution to keep his regenerative abilities a secret, you stood back examining the fake bandage/shirt that you tore up and wrapped around his torso, using bandage pins to hold it in place. Then shrugged.

“It’s good enough.” You say. “You’re not going anywhere anyway, so it’s not like you’ll raise a bunch of questions. It looks like you have an injury, it’ll match the incident and medical report. You won’t get found out.”

“I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow.

“Nope. You were injured, which means I gotta keep an eye on you. So you’ll be sleeping here, and you’ll have to pretend you’re in pain, whining and moaning and all that. Give it your best performance.” You encourage. “Take it, not many around here get a chance to get a break like that.”

He looked at you, pondering what you were offering him- well, you weren’t offering, he was going to have do it because you weren’t gonna risk him revealing himself as a mutant, which for some reason you were now more concerned about than he was. A small smirk appeared on his face, “That mean you’ll be waiting on me then, hand and foot?”

You smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself soldier.” You say teasingly. “You can stay in here a little longer, rest up, maybe shed some tears to make it look like you’re suffering tremendously.” You added a little flair as you brought your hand up to your forehead, pretending to faint, before turning and walking away to leave the room, now knowing you really needed to get back to work.

“I don’t think I need to shed any tears.” He mutters, but there was amusement in his tone though. “Hey bub” He called after you as you were about to leave the room, lifting the tent flap, but you stopped to look at him. “Why are you seen keen on helping me out? Making a plan to make sure people don’t find out what I am…Seems like too much trouble to go through for you.” He frowned.

“Well…” You dropped the flap of the tent, “Us mutants gotta stick together, right?” Logan looked surprised at first, eyes widening a bit, and jaw slacking, but then a soft, genuine smile stretched across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaving you thinking that was a smile you never wanted to go without again. Smiling back at him, you winked, and turned back before stopping and looking at him again, “Plus, you seem worth the trouble.” You add, before finally leaving him to himself.

Maybe it was too much trouble. You could leave Logan to figure it out himself. You two didn’t know each other, you weren’t friends. Yet you, the compassionate self you are, and also slightly bull-headed, was not going to leave Logan hanging alone. Maybe it was the fact that you were both mutants that urged you to help him, let him know that someone like him out there has his back, even if he had many brothers at his side watching his back too. Or maybe it was because you felt an undeniable pull towards him- and him towards you.

While he stayed in the medical tent with you for about a week, the standard time for stitches to stay in. While staying, you both got to know each other better. You found a deep friendship with Logan quickly, both of you having an understanding of each other, not just as mutants but as individuals as well. You were able to laugh, usually at his snarky remarks to the other privates and even his comments to the higher-ups, surprising you in how he likes to occasionally challenge authority despite how quiet and reflective he can be some moments. You saw him as brave, smart, and he was protective, always going first in patrols, and keeping an eye on the younger privates. He’d hid it well, rarely making it seen, but he had a compassion that made your heart swell, especially when you came across him comforting a young private who was homesick and scared. He had a good instinct that seems to attest to his mutation- which he later revealed the full aspects of it to you later on, claws and everything- which did nothing but fascinate you, leading to a full acceptance of him he hadn’t felt or seen in a long time. He’d visit you in late nights when he wasn’t assigned guard patrol, bringing you something to eat or drink, and you’d both quietly talk about your lives, and how’d you ended up there. He listened to you complain about the lack of supplies, and how you got into medicine in the first place. You’d learn of his brother Victor- another Private First Class there at the camp, who you quickly learned a distaste for after meeting him, and how old they both really were- leading you to bombard him with history questions, that he simply answered “I wasn’t there bub.” There was an unspoken yet mutual physical and spiritual attraction between you both, but before anything could have gone further in your relationship, down in the thick muddy jungles of Vietnam, you suffered a similar fate as your mentor Doctor Jones. A stray bullet having shot through your shoulder while you were out, attempting to help a young private who’s leg unfortunately got caught in a dirt trap. You were okay, but orders sent you home on a medical discharge, saying you fulfilled your duty to the States.

You missed Logan, and you also found yourself struggling to find your place back in civilian life again, the stress and the trauma of the things you saw weighed heavy in your mind, not to mention the worry you felt over Logan's safety while he was still over there. The only thing easing your worries was the letters you wrote to each other, until one day his letters stopped coming, and your own got returned back to you with no explanation, leaving you in fear of the worst….

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #wolverine x f!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x men #i know the title will throw you off but TRUST ME #especially with the vibes of this fic #also like i said my first reader fic SO PLEASE BE GENTLE

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penumbra-mayhem · 3 days ago

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How to Trap an Alpha

— Asher & David & Angel Fic

This takes place about a month after the Inversion. It def goes against canon; I'm making everyone's response to the Inversion far worse (especially David, in this he didn't talk about the Inversion with Angel after it happened. Also I hc Angel as a transwoman, so expect she/her thx.)

Hope yall enjoy <3

TW: gore, panic attack, verbal fighting, grief, PTSD, flashbacks

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

It was Asher’s third mistake this week—and his biggest. It had cost David one of the few security gigs he'd managed to book since the Inversion, and David could only chalk it up to pure negligence. He called Asher into his home office; the sight of him sparked panic in David, but he swallowed it and growled:

“This is unacceptable, Asher.”

“I know,” Asher replied, wincing at the aggression in David’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it. You know how badly we needed this gig.”

“I forgot—”

“—you forgot,” David scoffed, “You need to do better, Asher. I'm relying on you. The pack is relying on you. If they don’t get work, they can’t pay their rent or groceries or medical bills—”

“—I’m trying, okay?”

“Well you’re clearly not trying hard enough.”

“Yes, I am. Your standards are just ridiculously high.”

“You’re the pack beta. My standards have to be high.”

“Well can you lower them a bit?”

“I’m not going to coddle you, Asher."

"I'm not asking you to coddle me, but I tried talking to you last week—"

"—and I told you to deal with it. I trusted that you would."

"You wouldn't listen to me! Ever since the Inversion you've been practically unreachable. I've been trying to tell y—"

"—I don't have the time, Asher. I have responsibilities. I have people to take care of. I'm the alpha of this pack!"

“You’re not just the fucking alpha!” Asher barked.

David glared at him, “What?”

“Could you stop being my alpha for one goddamn moment and just be my friend,” Asher pleaded, "I know you're not doing well. How could you? How could any of us? I’ve tried checking up on you so many times the past couple weeks. You just keep ignoring me. And not once—” he gasped, his chest tightening, “—not once have you checked on me.”

Images flashes in David's mind at the sound of Asher struggling to breathe: Asher's mauled chest—the layers and layers of exposed skin and bubbly fat, heaving and stretching as he fought for air. Crimson sludge pulsing out of him with each beat of his racing heart.

Asher’s gasped in between words, “I know you want to b-be strong for everyone, but sometimes your strength just c-comes off as indifference. I-I miss my friend! I need my friend. Not my alpha. Fuck, I didn’t know l-losing Gabe would mean losing you too.”

Gabe. It always came back down to Gabe. David balled his fists tight. He’d never escape his father’s death. Never step out from his shadow. He tried so hard to be like his father, and yet everything he did seemed to be the antithesis to what Gabe would do. He wasn’t his father. He never would be. Everyone knew that. Everyone doubted him. And now the one person who’d always had his back was losing faith too.

David stared as Asher backed up against the wall of his office, shaking and hyperventilating. Gabe wouldn’t have let him get to this point. Especially after what he just went through. He would’ve checked on him. He would’ve cared.

Asher's face rapidly losing saturation, so contorted with pain that he looked monstrous. No sense of recognition when he looked up at David. Just pain and fear. It was a look David had never seen on Asher before.

Asher spluttered, “I-I don’t think I can d-do this…fuck, I f-feel like I’m going to p-pass out.”

Gabe knew how to respond to tragedy. He knew how to compartmentalize. He knew how to be a leader and a friend and a father. Gabe knew what to do, always. David didn’t. David didn't know anything. He tried to think of how Gabe would've helped Asher and came up empty. Every day it was like the memory of his father faded a bit more. How could he emulate someone he was slowly forgetting?

And if Asher died, would the same thing happen? Would David lose bits of him? His voice? His laugh? His smile?

Asher was a whimpering, gasping ball on the floor of David's office. He clawed at his own chest, mentally trapped somewhere between the past and the present. David felt the same.

Trying desperately to heal Asher. Asher's core clawing at David's, like someone drowning seeking anything to hold. David's core grasping at Asher's as it slipped away like smoke.

I should leave, David thought, panic squeezing his throat, I should call his mate and let them handle it. They're better at this. Asher's better at this. Ash would know what to do. Dad would know what to do. I don't. I can't. I'm frozen. I jus—

Knock knock knock.

"Hey, David, is everything..." Angel asked quietly as she cracked open the door. Her face fell as she saw the look in David’s eyes, and then Asher on the floor to her right.

"What the fuck? David? David?" Angel sputtered, rushing in. Getting no response from her mate, she crouched down in front of Asher, "Ash, sweetie, what's going on? Are you hurt?"

"C-can't breathe. C-can't..." Asher managed.

Angel whipped her head to look up at David, "What the hell happened?"

"I...I..." David muttered before looking away.

She turned her attention back at Asher, murmuring, "Ash, you think you make it to the living room?"

Asher gave a slight nod. He swayed as Angel helped him up; the feeling brought on a whole new wave of panic, causing him to whimper and grip Angel hard.

"It's okay. It's okay, I've got you. Just a little trip down the hallway, and I'll get you some water, maybe some ice, and we'll get that breathing slow again. It's okay, you're safe, I've got you..." Angel cooed, her voice fading as the two made their way to the living room.

Leaving Ash lying in the Underground. Wondering if he'd ever see him again. The ice-cold fear that it hadn't been enough. That the healing hadn't been enough to save him. That he'd die down there, alone. That he'd abandoned his best friend.

David's head spun. The panic he felt whenever he was with Asher was the same panic he felt whenever Asher left. He couldn't escape. David leaned against his desk as images flooded his head.

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

About twenty minutes later, Angel appeared in the doorway. David's eyes shot up, red and glassy.

"I managed to calm him down a bit. His mate came and picked him up. They're on their way home now, I expect," Angel said, her voice tight.

"Good," David croaked.

Silence fell for a moment.

"What happened?" Angel asked.

David grumbled dismissively, “He lost us the Devlin gig."

"I already knew that. That's not what I'm talking about."

"It was just a panic attack. He's fine," David hissed.

Angel gaped, "What? What the fuck is wrong with you?""

"Oh fuck off." David growled.

Washing Asher's blood off himself in his bathroom sink. Angel offering to help. Telling her to go away.

"No!" Angel shouted, advancing towards him, "No, you do not get to tell me to fuck off. Not after I just helped your best friend off the fucking floor while you stood there and did nothing."

Gabe would have done something. Gabe would be so disappointed.

Angel lowered her volume, but kept the bite in her voice, "Look, I understand you're struggling, David. I don't need you to tell me that for me to see it. But that doesn't mean you get to be cruel. No more shutting me out. Now talk. What happened?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt his body instinctively fight the urge to keep from crying. Gabe used to let himself cry in front of people. Why couldn't David?

Angel ran a hand over her face, muttering, "Alright. Fine. I'm leaving."

Pack members sprinting. Splitting up. Leaving his line of sight. Leaving him.

She turned to walk out, and David heard the words before he even realized he was saying them, "I can't stop seeing him. How he was. Asher. On the ground, bleeding out. Every time I look at him, that's all I see."

Angel stopped, but didn't turn back around.

The words came rushing out like a flood. Like blood from an open chest. "I can't escape. Everywhere I look, there's something or someone that reminds me of that night. Something that sends my mind back there and then I have to claw my way back to the present, every time."

Angel faced him, biting her lip and furrowing her brow. David could feel tears burning his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall.

"I don't know how to handle this. All those fucking people, just...gone...I don't know how to be a leader after something like that. I'm doing everything wrong. I'm somehow pushing everyone away and yet not far enough, apparently, cause I'm still hurting people when I lash out. I'm hurting you. I'm hurting Ash. I'm hurting the pack. And-and..." David choked, "...and I just keep thinking how the only good thing about my dad being dead is he doesn't have to watch me as I destroy everything he built."

"No," Angel insisted, shaking her head as she walked back to him, "You're not destroying everything."

"I am, Angel," David cried out, his voice small. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes.

"No," she repeated, her hands resting on his hips, "you're not."

David let Angel pull him into her. He let her arms wrap around him. Let her shoulder hold his head as he began to cry. Finally. For the first time since that night.

His tears falling on Asher's face. The Shades and the screams so loud he could barely hear his own sobbing.

"Here's what we're going to do," Angel whispered, "We're going sit on our bed. I'm going to get you some water. We're going to talk. Afterwards, we're going to get some food. Maybe go for a drive, talk some more. And when he's ready, you're going to talk to Ash. Okay?"

It was a page right out of Gabe's book, and it took David aback for a moment. He almost kept the thought to himself. Almost.

"My dad would've said that," David mumbled into Angel's shoulder, “What you said, just now.”

“Yeah?”

David nodded.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. Makes me feel...steady," David assured her.

Angel pressed a small kiss to his temple and murmured, "I'm glad. Now come on, let's go talk."

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malarkgirlypop · 3 days ago

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Epilogue MEDIC!

Hi friends, sorry I've been so absent I have the worst writing block at the moment and nothing seems to be coming to me. But I wrote this epilogue soon after I had finished the last chapter of MEDIC, but I forgot about it completely cause I was going to post it a little later. Well it's a little later (the next year) and here is the small ending to my favourite story ever! I miss you all hopefully I can get back to writing soon.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut, @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92, @lucyfromtheoldhouse, @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.

“I am the matchmaker of the year!” Izzy boasted. I rolled my eyes but a laugh left my mouth before I could stop it.

“You are not, we went on two dates!” I lied, we had spent days together. I had found him again, he was the same as the one I had known but he was born during the same time as me. But he shared the same soul, the same laugh, the same love as Don.

There was no comparison between the two, this was my Don but born anew. He never knew our history but it didn’t mean he couldn’t feel it. We were drawn to each other from the moment we had met.

“He already told you he loved you!” Izzy pointed out. On our second date we had gone out to dinner and then the date lasted three more days. He came home with me and never left. When we decided we should probably part ways and go to our jobs he had blurted out that he loved me. I didn’t hesitate to say it back.

“Listen! When you know you know!” I blushed thinking of the man I loved.

“When you know, you know what?” His voice sounded through the hallway.

“Don!” Izzy and I both turned our heads in surprise. “I’m not finishing my shift for another 20 minutes!” But that didn’t stop from entering the nurses office and sitting beside me.

“If the nurse in charge catches me.” I whispered, peering around the room to make sure Maria wasn’t here.

“Don’t worry I already bribed her.” Don sent me a cheeky wink before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I came to whisk you away for a magical getaway.”

“But I have work tomorrow.” I was concerned he hadn’t thought this through.

“Maria!” Don called, the older nurse poked her head from the office. “Does Em have work tomorrow?”

“No, she booked in for annual leave for a week.” Maria smiled looking pleased with herself.

“What?!” I glanced between the two. “How did- How?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head.” His lips found my forehead. I smiled up at him, and my heart swelled.

—--------------------------------------------------

“I’m nervous.” I whispered as Izzy, Lyla and Ellie led me through the empty foyer.

“Why on earth are you nervous?” Ellie asked, we had formed a tight friend group.

They were the girls I held dear, each of them took up a space in my heart. We have been friends now for three years. I knew all of them well, like the back of my hand.

“Cause you’re all acting suspicious.” I noted as they all shared a knowing smile. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, stop fussing.” Lyla smoothed down my dress at the back. They had insisted we all dressed up fancy for dinner, we never dressed up, or went anywhere fancy. We were always too tired from work and enjoyed staying at home in our pj’s and ordering in, so this was out of the ordinary.

The group led me through the empty building, the museum Don and I had been to so many times for our dates. We just enjoyed getting lost and settling into a corner, watching the world pass by.

Flower petals scattered the floor as the girls urged me forward but didn’t follow.

“Keep going.” They ushered me away.

A swell of music sounded as I walked closer and the petals still scattered the floor. I gasped as I stepped into my favourite room, the stained glass window was lit by candles and at the centre of it all was Don. He smiled nervously at me as I approached.

“What is all this?” I asked as I came closer. My heart leapt into my throat as I watched him take a knee.

“Emily Lane. I have never believed in love at first sight but you proved me wrong. From the moment I set my sights on you, you have captured my attention. Your wit, your beauty, your kindness, those are only a few of the things that have a hold on me. I believe your soul was made for mine, I have never known another person like you, and I never wish to know anyone again. You are all I need and more. Would you make me the happiest man on this earth and marry me?” Don spoke as he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket.

Tears spilled from my eyes as I nodded my head frantically. “Yes! A thousand times yes!” I lunged into him causing him to lose his footing and we crashed to the floor. I peppered his face with a million kisses as we both cried and laughed.

“Let me put the ring on!” He said as we righted ourselves. Sitting on the floor in our favourite place he slid on the most beautiful silver ring onto my finger.

“Do you like it?” Don asked, peering down at the jewellery.

“Like it? I love it!” I tackled him again into my arms. The squeals of delight pulled us from our celebration. The girls clattered around the corner as well as his family and our shared friends. I had never been happier in my life.

—------------------------------------

“I hope to find you in every lifetime, now and forever.” Don read his vows as I cried. He didn’t even know the significance of the words he spoke, but I did. I knew we were made for each other and that the vow he had made would be upheld, even if we didn’t realise it.

“Do you, Donald George Malarkey, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The officiant asked Don.

“I do!” He nodded eagerly as I laughed.

“Do you, Emily Marlena Lane, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The officiant turned to me.

“I do!” I smiled brightly at the love of my life, as our friends and family watched. But it didn’t matter who was here, as long as we were together I knew everything was perfect.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” We couldn’t even wait for the man to finish, our lips collided as we shared our first kiss as a married couple. As husband and wife. The crowd cheered and clapped, but they faded into the background. All I could see was him.

—------------------------------------------

The hot summer sun beat down as we rocked in our chairs. Our hands were intertwined as we watched our grandchildren and grown children frolic in the long grass.

“I think we did pretty good. Huh, Em?” Don squeezed my hand. I glanced over to my aged husband, we had made all of our dreams come true, I got to grow old with the man I loved.

“We did.” I lent over to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “There is nowhere else I would rather be.”

“I love you, Em.” Don whispered softly.

“Not as much as I love you.” I sighed in content.

#band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #easy company #band of brothers fanfic #Emily Lane #My OC #the final bit #they had their happily ever after and im sobbing all over again #may this love find me

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stellaclaw · 2 days ago

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Genuinely so real that Warriors is such a badly-written series (let's not kid ourselves, it was always an uninspired cash grab since Into The Wild) that very few characters are "nuanced" or "complex" in any real sense even by children's media standards. Thank you for saying it bc it bugs me how a lot of fans (especially outside Tumblr) talk about nuance/complexity that isn't really there as an excuse for awful characterization.

While I'm here, question about your pinned post, if that's ok: Why do you dislike Jayfeather? I haven't reread PO3/OOTS in a while and the main things I remember about him are the ableism (unbearable) and his friendship with Briarlight (nice) so I'm interested to hear your take.

yeah, warriors has always been more conceptually interesting to me than genuinely so. its like. writing prompts the series lol.

jayfeather is just very mean and nasty to people who dont do anything to him, especially as a doctor. iirc, cats are shown to avoid getting medical treatment because theyre afraid of him. he was seriously considering letting breezepelt die because he didnt like him. thats really scary!! thats genuinely fucked up that as a doctor, as somebody with power over peoples lives, hes THAT bitter and biased. he shittalked leafpool at her own funeral, he was nasty to twigkit, a traumatized orphan, he outed mothwings atheism AT A GATHERING to win an argument.

and then theres that disgusting debacle where squirrelflight was nervous about her pregnancy (you know, the woman who raised him, nervous because she just found out she could gte pregnant after being lied to for years), and so frequently checked in with him. he got so annoyed that when squirrel went into labor and daisy came to fetch him, he had to be dragged to the nursery because he decided squirrel didnt know what she was talking about.

squirrels labor was notably difficult, with a stillbirth and one other child dying soon after.

jayfeather spent the next quarter moon “stomping around camp, grumbling about queens who couldnt tell the difference between birth pains and indigestion”

#stella answers #anonymous #warrior cats #jayfeather #he is just SO unpleasant and paired with the amount of power he has over others AS A DOCTOR…..#i dont see people point this out btw. but he waves DAISY away when she coems to fetch him. daisy who has given birth and is a permaqueen #whos helped in many labors #daisy who definitely knows what shes talking about #MISS DAISY. KILL HIM.

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zephyrrhiesfyrian · 2 days ago

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I'm going to bully Emmet in the social media au.

...

Emmet, you are an idiot. Akari is the only person who has been in contact with Ingo since he's been missing and had the ability to share his whereabouts. So logically, it would have been best to message Akari and explain Ingo's disappearance and how you have been looking for him. This way you can finally get in contact with your missing brother and figure out what the hell happened.

But for some arceus forsaken reason you threatened Akari, the only person who can let you and Ingo communicate.

And what did you expect? For Akari to take that bullshit?

No, she did what any sane person would do and block whoever was tormenting her. And now you can no longer get updates on Ingo from the primary source.

You can't tell Ingo how much you miss him. You can't tell Ingo how long you've searched for him, how long you've held out hope for just a glimpse of his coat. About how happy you are to finally see him again, awake and living.

Because the first thing you did upon seeing proof of his existence is to immediately destroy your chances of reunion, digitally as it is right now.

Anyways I hope Chandelure bonks you over the head for your stupidity, you deserve it. And may your joltiks refuse to cuddle you until you make things right.

...

Now time to message Akari!

...

Be safe and don't be an idiot. You have the spite to fight god but you don't got the power yet.

If you want to know anything about Ingo, gym-leader-elesa was his friend. You might find out some embarrassing shit he's done.

Also, whatever you do, don't use any ancient medicine/makeup/products unless you're sure of what's in it. Arsenic, talcum, lead, and mecury was typically used in them so be careful.

...

And finally to Elesa. I don't know if I got her username correct earlier.

...

Thank you for being the responsible one.

I have also angered Emmet so he's your problem now. BYE!!!

Your ask has been distributed by the higher authority of this blog uwu

(please keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times when using Arceus Inter-Dimensional Communication services!)

joltikmas: blocked joltikmas has blocked you

stuck-in-the-past: listen god (i think?) gave me this phone and internet access stuck-in-the-past: i might be a lil fiesty bitch but im not stupid enough to pick a fight with the person payin my internet bills LOL stuck-in-the-past: oooo fr? i will message them, i wanna know if his blank stare is a result of trauma or if he's just Like That stuck-in-the-past: yeeeeah ive been really hesitant abt that stuff but sometimes i cant help it? like pesselle's not gonna let me leave the medical ward without treating my injuries somehow XD stuck-in-the-past: i did find a neat thing on my arcphone that lets me know if something is poisonous or toxic or smth tho stuck-in-the-past: i just open the photo app and point it at whatever the thing is and itll let me know stuck-in-the-past: i did this with mushroom bc i wanted to eat them (they were poisonous. i did not eat them)

gym-leader-elesa: omg that was you? What did you say to him 😭 gym-leader-elesa: He's locked himself in his room and he won't respond to me gym-leader-elesa: his galvantula's with him though so I'm not worried

Thank you for using Arceus Inter-Dimensional Communication!

#zef askbox #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon black and white #pla social media au #pokemon emmet #submas #subway boss emmet #pokemon akari #pokemon elesa #gym leader elesa #anon your ask made emmet cry i think you need to know this #this is not an insult #you have done well #he needed this

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duskdog · 22 hours ago

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I've been approaching the riddles with the thought that Eddie is actually answering Steph's questions. I've considered each one in response to the question directly preceding it. 1. "The gift that keeps on taking. The theft that keeps on giving" is in response to "What did he say about me?"

I generally agree with something of a combination of what's been proposed before. The gift that keeps on taking is traditionally the White Elephant, a gift that causes more trouble than it's worth, and I think it's likely -- given what we know of Arthur and how he reacts to failure/being beaten (he goes on angry rants!) -- that he may have reacted the same to Steph getting in his way. Here's his child, something that's supposed to bring him joy, and all she does is fuck him over.

(He may even be, vaguely, remembering a time when she did bring him joy, maybe when she was a new baby, and it just makes him all the more bitter now. I don't know if we can fairly say that he actually cared about her even then, but I'd like to think there was a time when he and Crystal lived a semi-normal life? I'm sure it was never a healthy relationship, but they got married -- clearly once upon a time they had feelings for each other, and hopes and dreams and stuff. Maybe Arthur was happy to hold his new baby. And now look at what a pain in the ass she is.)

Regardless, something that's supposed to be seen as a blessing has been nothing but a curse -- and I could definitely see Arthur going on more than one angry rant about it to Eddie. (Last we saw him and Eddie together, after all, they were getting thrown out of the house, and it doesn't take a genius to realize that the only reason Black Canary would know they were there, or care, would be because of Steph.)

2. The bug riddle is in response to "why do you believe he had to leave clues to his crimes?".

First I have to preface this by saying that this is a weird question for Steph to ask, because as was pointed out, Arthur hasn't been leaving clues for a long time by this point. Still, it may be something that bothered Steph a lot when she was younger, and maybe still bothers her? I'm one of those folks who believes Arthur was suffering from OCD (which is never outright stated, but I believe is implied when he talks about how he was "cured" of his need to leave clues -- at the very least, this makes me think that it was psychological in some fashion, and some flavor of OCD best fits the bill, so he may have begun taking some sort of medication?), which does have a genetic component, but we've never seen any indication that Steph would be worried about anything like that, or that the thought has even ever crossed her mind, so I don't think that's a factor.

So why does it matter? I think it's just that Steph is just trying to understand her father. She's just recently found out that he's dead, and now she has all these unresolved questions, and unresolved feelings, and him leaving clues was a core part of his original costumed persona. He never changed his name from Cluemaster, either, even after he stopped leaving clues. I think the question is still important to Steph, because the clue thing had been a big part of who Arthur was, and "who Arthur was" is exactly what she's trying to resolve right now.

I think, with this riddle, Eddie may have cut straight to the heart of the matter that I just discussed -- this seemingly no-longer-relevant question that's still clearly very important to Steph even so. Digging up Arthur's metaphorical bones here makes her the bug... but which bug? Is she going to let these questions, these feelings, trap her in someone else's web -- is she going to get tangled up in the man Arthur was, in his mistakes, and let that devour her? Or is she going to cocoon in her own web instead, nurturing herself through this in a more healthy manner, and emerge better for it?

3. "Dog in a manger" is in response to "Did he ever talk about someone who hurt me? Someone named Murray?"

This one is... complicated.

To understand, it's important to note that this saying has a long, long history, and variations of it have been used in several different contexts throughout that time. At its core, it's exactly as described above -- someone who selfishly hoards something it doesn't need/can't use so that others cannot have it. But there are a lot of different shades of that thought. In one of its earliest references, it was specifically used as a commentary on pederasty -- the practice of sexual activity between a grown man and a boy/youth. And there are multiple instances later on where it's used in a similar (if less pedophiliac) fashion to comment on May/December romances -- the idea is that, when an older lover takes a much younger one, they're "wasting" the younger lover's beauty and vigor, which they can no longer hope to match themselves.

Jim Murray, a grown man, lusted after Steph, who was only 11. I don't think Eddie is trying to play games with this one, or analyze anything. I think he's just straight-up (as straight-up as the Riddler can get) answering the question. He's saying "ah yes, that guy who did that", which clearly indicates that Arthur did mention Murray.

He may also be subtly casting judgment on that, since he chose a reference that generally condemns such a thing, but it's hard to say.

4. "What day has no man lived to see?" is in response to "Do you think he wanted to give up crime?"

The actual traditional answer to this riddle is "tomorrow". No man lives to see tomorrow, because when it arrives, it immediately becomes "today".

I think this one is just really simple, and really sad. He's saying that we'll never really know. Steph herself is struggling with the idea that any possibility of her father ever changing his ways is now gone. All potential destroyed in death.

What could have, and maybe would have, happened "tomorrow" is beyond any of them. Maybe Arthur did want to give up crime, or maybe he didn't -- it doesn't matter, because he didn't live to see that day.

I think that's the answer that's most likely. However, he also might be trying to say that Arthur did want to give it up, but just didn't live to see the day when he would, if you also interpret the next riddle a certain way...

5. "The tiger envies the oxen but only understands its horns" in response to "Did he want to stop?".

Going out on a limb with this one, but given the question I think he's answering: the oxen lives peacefully on the farm, working hard but without strife or worry. The tiger envies this peaceful life, but as a creature of violence, all it understands is violence.

Eddie may be saying that Arthur did want to stop... at least on some level. Maybe a part of him did want that more peaceful life, without all the stresses associated with the life they lead as criminals.

But he would probably never achieve that, because crime/violence is all he understands.

I think, however, it's far more likely that Eddie is just following up on the previous answer, and not implying anything about what Arthur actually did or did not want to do. It doesn't really matter what Arthur wanted -- it never had a chance to happen, and frankly, it probably wasn't ever going to anyway. Because Arthur really only understands one way to be.

6. "The number you can't count on your fingers" doesn't have an associated question at all, but it's directly in response to "One straight answer and I'll leave."

Eddie struggles here before giving his riddle, and the impression I get is that it's not just because Steph has gotten violent with him at this point. What I can't decide is why he would find it difficult to continue, when he's been rapid-firing riddle responses for the entire conversation. Maybe it is just because Steph's about to beat the shit out of him and he knows it, but... I don't know. It doesn't feel that way.

As for the riddle... it doesn't really have a good traditional answer. I've seen reference to it being "11" (which is mildly interesting because that's how old Steph was when Jim Murray tried to assault her), but that doesn't actually make any sense to me -- there are tons of numbers you can't count on your fingers, not just one (or, alternately, you can count even more than that if you think beyond just counting by ones).

I think @armed-with-a-waffle-iron is probably correct here -- Eddie thinks Steph is missing the point. What she's looking for is something that can't be quantified. There are no answers. The way I interpret the previous two riddles, this one would follow naturally: none of what Steph is asking about matters. She's not going to find what she's looking for here, at the very least.

The part that throws me for a loop, actually, is the Riddler's words after Steph leaves. Steph having a question mark over her head is a pretty obvious thing to say, but why is he speculating about Arthur's "game"? It seems to imply that he thinks/knows that Arthur is alive... but even if that were true, why would he assume the man's grief-stricken daughter was part of any sort of plan?

I don't think they actually ever follow up on this, so I guess we'll never really know.

I'm gonna have a go at the riddles which The Riddler throws at Stephanie Brown in Robin (1993) #113. @a-bad-case-of-the-stephs I'm hoping you can help me out, haven't actually read Robin in well over a year.

It's a gift that keeps on taking. It's a theft that keeps on giving. Having a child is the "gift" and when Arthur was imprisoned or estranged, his child was "stolen" from him. When Stephanie came into Arthur's life, he saw her as a "white elephant", but when he no longer had her, he became driven by the idea of her.

One bug is wrapped in a web, therein to die. Another bug is wrapped in its own web, there to be reborn. In a sense, being tangled in a web can be fatal but it can also indicate introspection and growth. Arthur's obsession with leaving clues were often his undoing so will Stephanie preoccupation with her father be her's or will it actually represent reflection and change?

There is a dog in the manger, but it cannot subsist on hay. A manger is a feeder for livestock, typically holding hay; which dogs do not eat. A "dog in a manger" is a person who spitefully refuses to let someone else benefit from (or let go of) something for which he or she has no personal use (dictionary.com). But dogs cannot subsist on hay and the livestock cannot eat with the dog in the manger. If the dog doesn't relent or change, then everyone loses. Stephanie is the dog and her memory of her father is the manger she cannot let go of.

What day of the week has no man ever lived to see? Judgement day. You have to be dead to see it. And they're both very much alive.

The Tiger envies the Oxen but only understands its horns. The Tiger envies the Oxen's power but it only understands power through the language of violence. Steph easily outmatches The Riddler in a fight yet is confused how he still holds all the cards although she attacks him because she only speaks the language of violence.

I am the number you cannot count on your fingers. Edit: he’s saying Steph’s missing the point; you can’t count him on your fingers, he’s not that kind of number.

Would love some input.

#stephanie brown #edward nygma

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