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maximwtf · 1 year ago

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“The sun’s down.”

Baizhu x Reader

Words: 2900

Google Docs Pages: 4,1

Warnings: Small injury, established relationship but nothing more than a few kisses and pet names, hurt/comfort, Baizhu is worried about you >:( small spoilers from his quest

Opening: You’ve found something interesting in your research, making you stay up late for multiple nights in a row while working. Baizhu frowns upon cutting from your sleeping time, but doesn’t say anything until it truly seems to start affecting your health.

AN// Reader can be any gender! This is very much self indulgent. I might have survived yet another fever but the joint pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and my wrist now hurts enough that writing this was a pain. On top of this, I requested an ao3 account, so maybe a piano will fall on me by the time I finally get one (or something along the lines of that). Who knows, the fanfic writer curse is real.

“The sun’s down.”

What now felt like forever ago, Baizhu had told you about the contract with the white snake that seemed to be glued around his neck. He’d told you of his deep interest in immortality and how he had been trying to pursue this interest. How he was researching some form of medicine that would maybe grant this everlasting life he so desperately craved after.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t been a little taken back by the idea at first. The whole contract part had almost gone over your head, and the reason for it was even more absurd to your mind than anything else. Sure, you were interested in herbs and their possible medical use as well, just like him. But you’d never go as far as to take up on a contract such as he had. It almost sounded like he was fighting against time every second of his life as it was now. Every free moment he had away from patients feeding on his life force were spent thinking of a way to make his seemingly impossible quest possible. And when he wasn’t working on that, he was doing his best to make it to another day after treating more severely ill patients.

But you also knew that even if you’d known him before the contract, he wouldn’t have listened even if you’d begged for him to not take up on it. He wasn’t one to turn his back to such power, nor did he have it in him to let someone else with a weaker mind to bear such bother on their shoulders. He was invested in making the spiral of contracts end with him for good. And all you could do was help him achieve this mission.

So, whenever you had the time, you travelled around Teyvat and researched different plants and herbs. This allowed you to bring them back to Baizhu for further research, knowing he himself wouldn’t have ever had the time nor the health to perform such long trips. Only, you had to remind yourself to be careful. He deeply frowned upon the trips where you returned even slightly injured. Repeating the same speech each time of why you shouldn’t get into danger for his sake. That he could do this himself, if otherwise it meant the research would affect your health as well. And you knew he was serious when he said that. He truly and honestly didn’t want to bother anyone with his health and the contract he had made on his own accord. And telling a man like him that he wasn’t a bother and that you cared about him never helped. He wouldn’t listen, even if he knew of your care and worry for his life. Because again, he reminded himself of the bother he’d made of himself by even telling you of the contract in the first place.

After the last trip you’d taken, you had found something new. Plants you hadn’t researched before and as of right now, they seemed promising. Not something that would automatically concoct an immortality potion, but something that could potentially help with the making of one. But to find out if this could be one of the possible ingredients, you had to sit down and think. Think and write out any possible outcomes and possibilities plants such as these could have.

So you had taken out all of your books on plants, found chapters with similar plants and begun to read, think and write down everything you could find. It didn’t take long for you to realise the true length of a process such as this. Not that you hadn’t done something like this before, but it had been a while. And even the last study you had done hadn’t been as large as this.

Of course, you had informed Baizhu of the study you had picked up. He’d been accepting of it, knowing you were just passionate about helping him achieve his goal. But what he hadn’t foreseen was the time this project was going to take. Not only did he worry half the time when you were gone on your trips, but he began to worry about the new habit you had picked up. Staying up late, cutting time from sleeping to maximise the time around the research.

He had put off lecturing you about it for a while, but the first time he saw you nod off in the middle of the day was when he decided the habit had gone far enough. If you were so tired that you kept falling asleep against your will during daytime, you clearly weren’t getting enough sleep during the night.

So he waited, waited until the next night rolled around once more. He found you seated at your usual spot, eyes going over pieces of text from a book before moving to your own notes and noting something down quickly. His brows furrowed, eyes becoming a little more serious than before. Even in the dark he could tell how tired your eyes seemed, begging for rest. An awful sight which twisted something in his chest. “Dear?” He called out in his usual tone, voice a little quieter than usually, as to not wake up Changsheng. This still caught your attention almost immediately, half lidded eyes turning to Baizhu. The sight of him erasing the more serious look from your face, a faint smile replacing it. “Yes?” You lowered your hands to the table, letting go of the page you’d been holding previously. “You do know staying up like this is detrimental to your health?” He said, and you could have sworn you heard a sigh escape him right after. The seriousness on his face had disappeared, one of worry staring down at you. You chuckled, trying to ease the mood that had settled as the conversation went on. “I’m only doing this page, I’m coming to bed straight after. Promise”, you nodded straight after as if trying to assure him further. His eyes looked to the side for a moment, wanting to argue with the fact that he’d seen you nod off. But then again he didn’t wish to call you out like this was some kind of serious argument. “Very well”, was all he said. You could see his shoulders ease out a little but the worry never left his face. Though it was not very apparent, you could only tell it was there from the years of companionship you’d had with the man. He was criminally good at hiding his emotions when he wished to do so.

And with that he had left you alone to finish the page you’d been working on. Though, the research had tempted you enough to work a little longer than that. It was only when you’d begun to feel your wrist ache a little that you’d seen it best to stop and get some rest. Thankfully Baizhu had fallen asleep by that time, making it a little easier to slide under the covers and get some shut eye. Though, that didn’t cancel out the slight guilt you felt about taking longer than you had promised.

But by the morning, it seemed like he hadn’t noticed the extended time you’d taken. Only, the wrist pain from last night hadn’t disappeared. Not only that, but it felt like it had gotten worse. Certain positions hurt enough to gain a slight gasp from you and having your hand relaxed felt a little awkward too. Not even mentioning that any sudden movements like shaking your hands was a no as well. You even thought of putting something to still the range of movement your wrist had for the day, but if you did that Baizhu would without a doubt lecture you on the project and the toll it had taken on your health.

But even with the pain and slight tiredness, the mornings were always peaceful. The smell of fresh fruit and breakfast comforted you no matter the mood you might have been in in the morning. And that portion of each day felt like a puzzle that wasn’t missing any pieces.

You felt the presence of Baizhu as his back was turned to you. He’d sat down to eat, which you intended on doing as well. You reached into a cabinet for tea, knowing the kind Baizhu liked wasn’t the one you preferred. So the one on the table mustn't have been the one you were looking for. Only, the teas were kept high up in the cabinet. This usually wasn’t a problem for either of you, but this morning the placement couldn’t have been more inconvenient for you. Your hand almost got to the teas, but before you could get it down you twisted your wrist. It caused a silent wince to escape you, but as silent as you’d tried to make it, it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Baizhu’s sharp eyes were on you, his lips parting as he was clearly interested in questioning you of what had happened. “Haha, silly me. Thought the package was going to fall on me!” You tried to giggle off the fading pain, biting your inner lip in hopes that the excuse had been good enough. Of course it hadn’t, but Baizhu only frowned lightly. “Do you need me to get it for you?” He asked, placing his hands on the edge of the table, ready to stand up. “No! It’s okay.” You quickly nodded, flashing him a smile before fighting through the pain as you swiftly grabbed the tea and brought it down to you. It hurt, but admitting to your bad habit would have hurt even more. It wasn’t even about your ego, but instead seeing him worry for you when you were doing the whole research for his sake that hurt even more than any wrist pain could.

You eventually sat down with him, enjoyed your breakfast and followed him to the pharmacy as he opened the place up and let patients in. You spending the rest of the day out of his way and continuing the research project. It was apparent that the pain had been caused by the immense writing you’d suddenly started doing. And it must have agitated something in your hand to cause pain from your wrist to elbow and back down to your fingers. But that was only one hand down, you still had one perfectly working hand to use and you weren't going to waste anymore time pondering about such minor issues when you had work to do. The secrets the new plants withheld weren’t going to solve themselves.

The day passed quickly this way, and only the sound of the last patient thanking Baizhu and leaving got your attention. With no breaks taken yet again, you could feel your lower back ache. Nothing bad, but you noted that a better chair could help to avoid it down the line.

Baizhu came around to your table, eyes quickly scanning the freshly written pages in front of you. Something of relief passed through his body as he saw some clear conclusion markings on the pages, indicating that you’d come to some kind of conclusion with the research that day. “Would you mind giving these to Qiqi, I have something to go and fetch.” He asked gently, placing two wrapped packages on the side of the table. “Mhm, of course.” You hummed, putting down the book that you’d been reading. “Much obliged, dear”, the man said before heading off. You gently pushed the chair you’d been on back, taking a gentle hold of the packages before heading for the front desk in the search for Qiqi. Nowhere to be found, you stood still, looking around for her.

It had taken you quite a while to catch a glimpse of her, but eventually you’d been able to call her over. Only, by that time Baizhu had made it back as well. He was able to observe you pick up the packages once more and attempt to hand them over to Qiqi. Though, doing this with one hand had proven to be the wrong move. They weighed quite a bit and caused your wrist to complain about the strain put on it. You winced, almost dropping both of the packages. Thankfully Qiqi had been close enough to catch the one that had fallen, carefully accepting the last one you offered her. She seemed to know what they were for and hurried to take them wherever she’d been told to drop them off at.

You scrunched your nose a little while caressing the wrist. “Dear, are you alright?” The all too familiar voice of Baizhu’s called out, concern clear in it. “Ah, it’s nothing. Really.” You sighed off the initial shock of finding him in the same space, shoulders relaxing. “Then I assume you wouldn’t mind if I had a look?” The doctor asked, clearly already assured that something was wrong. And he was right too, if you truly were fine there would have been no reason to run from the questions. You’d been caught. “Very well. Go ahead, doctor.” You sighed, reaching out your arm for him. He raised his eyebrows for a moment, looking at you before lowering his eyes to your hand.

His hands felt smooth as he took a hold of yours. He was always gentle, even now when he seemed a little frustrated with the way you’d been deceiving him. He kept his eyes keenly on your hand, which was a performance you couldn’t even attempt. Chewing on your inner lip, your eyes were fixated on him. He gently pressed along the muscles of your hand, moving along to your wrist. Nothing. His eyes narrowed, gently turning the hand up and pushing it further with his own palm. Nothing. Not out of options, he pushed your hand down, making you bite down on your lip just a little harder. But he felt the way your hand tensed up. Gently, his fingers slid along the ink stained skin of your hand. He turned it around, the palm facing him. Intertwining his fingers with yours, the hold got a little stronger as he used his hand to push yours down once more. A silent ‘ah-’ gave him a mark to stop but also confirmed his initial worries. Careful, he lifted your hand back to a more comfortable position. “Does it hurt if you shake your hands?” He asked, the question so specific you had to think for a moment. Think all the way back to this morning when you’d washed your hands and shook them dry before using a towel. The shaking had hurt enough for you to stop the action completely. “On occasion,” you muttered, voice now more defeated than ever. “You’ve been working far too much. You’ve given your body a proper shock by switching its natural rhythm.” He spoke surprisingly gently while turning around and swiftly picking up some bandages. But at the end of the day his reaction shouldn’t have come as a surprise. This was the most patient man you knew, and he somehow kept it together no matter what came his way. And you’d found that when it came to you, he couldn’t find it in him to be mad. If only ever so slightly frustrated, but even that seemed to have been rooted in care, not malice or hate. He knew rushing others and being impatient wasn’t going to help anything or anyone.

“But I’m almost done. Well at least I suspect so.” You automatically chirped out a protest, eyes keenly following as he leaned forward and carefully began to wrap your wrist. You didn’t pull away, watching as the roll got thinner the more he applied it on you. “Too tight?” He asked, seemingly having ignored what you’d just said to him. You gave him a look for that, knowing he most likely missed it as his focus was elsewhere. To answer his question, it was rather tight but that meant it was going to hold better. Just what you’d been craving since the morning. “It’s good”, you replied and observed as he held the end of the bandage in place and used his other hand to grab a clip which he stretched out to hold the bandage in place. “There. Now, I’d suggest you go and rest early.” He took a pause, but spoke up again early enough so you couldn’t protest immediately after. “And I’m not saying this as your doctor. Please, dear.” He sighed, perhaps without even noticing he gave your hand a squeeze. Your mouth opened ever so slightly, a protest you’d prepared at the tip of your tongue. Though something stopped you, dragged you back from saying it out loud. “Sure, thank you.” Your gaze rose up to his face. A more warmer smile appeared on his face, his hands gently slipping away from yours, slowly like he didn’t want to let go. You gave the wrist a little test of endurance. What had felt painful before felt much better now. Baizhu seemed to have noticed this too as he straightened his back.

His hand carefully placed itself just below your shoulder, gently pushing your forward. “And now, we’re going to rest.” Baizhu said calmly, but you could hear the tiredness from his own voice. He’d spent his own life force today, but as always he hid that well. And you didn’t question him about it either. “The sun’s down.” A whisper hit your ear as he gave your cheek a tender kiss. The way he was now eased any worry you might have had, willingly following him to a bed which now felt a lot more inviting than before.

AN// Now, about ao3, since I most likely won’t be making a separate post about it. I won’t post anything new there, only cross post the fanfics from this blog that I like the most. Since I know a lot of ao3 users don’t use tumblr ! But tumblr will still be my main platform for anything I write, and most likely will have even more content since AO3 will be only for my personal favourites :”D

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #baizhu #genshin impact baizhu #baizhu x reader #x reader #genshin x reader

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yeor-yeona · 1 year ago

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princess carrying jongseob

pairing: p1harmony kim jongseob x gn!reader

warnings: y/n being overprotective (?), anxiety (?), minor injury, one instance of cursing

word count: 577

other: established relationship, non-idol au (p1h is a dance crew), other p1h members are mentioned

You receive a call from Keeho, a little surprising as the boys should be in practice right now. You answer it, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey Steph, what’s up?” “Hey… umm… Seob fell during practice, we think he sprained his ankle, but he’s saying it's not bad enough to go to the hospital. Would you be able to pick him up?”

As you heard those words your heart dropped. The only thing you were focused on was if Seob was okay. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You rush out the door, grabbing the first pair of shoes you see, and speeding down the street, hoping you don’t get pulled over.

You reach the practice room a little out of breath and you burst through the door, shocking everyone inside. Your eyes immediately fall on Jongseob, sitting in a chair at the side of the room. “Baby, are you okay?” you ask heading over to where he’s sitting. “I’m okay, just twisted my ankle a little.”

He turns to the side facing Keeho, blocking his mouth with his hand in a futile attempt to prevent you from hearing what he says. “This is why I told you not to call her,” he sighs. “And risk her killing me once she did find out? No, thank you,” Keeho says putting his hands up.

Once you reach him you cradle his face, scanning him for any signs of pain or injury. He grabs one of your wrists, pulling slightly, signaling to move your hands. “I’m alright, seriously, Keeho’s just being over dramatic,” he gives him a quick glare. “But we can go to urgent care or something if it’ll make you feel better.” “If you don’t think you need to, we don’t have to go.”

He didn’t look like he was in pain and his ankle didn’t look bad, he just needed to rest for a few days, you knew you were being a little excessive, but you felt a lot better just seeing him. “Come on, I’ll take you to my place and wrap up your ankle.”

He nods, and you help him up, swooping him into a princess carry, causing him to yelp and the others to either gasp or burst out laughing. Seob covers his face, embarrassed as hell, his blush growing out of control, but he knows you won’t compromise on this. He already fears looking at the group chat or the comments everyone will make the next time they meet, causing him to shrink in your arms and turn into your chest.

You say bye to everyone, Theo’s mouth still agape in shock and Jiung still punching the floor laughing, while Keeho records with his hand over his mouth. But you ignore them and leave the room.

As the door closes behind you Seob uncovers his face, which is now as red as the tips of his hair. “Why would you do that?” he groans. “I told you it’s not that bad, I can still walk.”

You smile at his reaction, it was half of the reason why you’d picked him up like this in the first place. The other half being genuine concern, of course. “But what if your ankle gets worse,” you say pouty. “Your performance is at the end of the month, we need to make sure you’re back at 100% before then.”

He sighs, accepting his defeat, just hoping no one else he knows sees him like this.

home ✿ masterlist

#p1h #p1harmony #p1harmony imagine #p1h imagine #p1harmony fanfic #p1h fanfic #p1h scenarios #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony jongseob #kim jongseob #p1h jongseob #p1h x reader #jongseob x reader #p1harmony x reader #jongseob imagines

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jinmukangwrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiiiii I love your writing, if you’re still bored and doing prompts I’d love a 13 and/or 26 LU (whoever you find easiest to write is cool but my fav is twilight if you want a suggestion 🤠!)

13: out of breath

26: the bone crunched

Hey don't cry, AO3 still down drabble prompts

Day 2 from my wife being off to war. I'm gonna keep doing little drabble prompts through the day, feel free to keep sending them in!

---

Scouting ahead had its dangers. Yet, Twilight made it his personal duty to perform this task whenever he felt it necessary, usually waiting for the others to fall asleep before he slipped into his wolf form and explored a few miles ahead.

This time proved to be dangerous, as he had stumbled across one of the biggest bogoblins he had ever seen followed by a train of smaller counterparts.

There were so many of them, it was bad luck that one of them spotted him before he could sneak off and warn the others.

He tried to run, truly he did, but the big one threw one of the little ones and they landed right ahead of him. The others screeched and jeered, running to surround him; Twilight knew they didn't know he was a hero, he was food to them.

He snapped at them, snarling and hunching his shoulders and hindquarters to make himself bigger. He mauled a couple to death, their blood sharp on his canine tongue, until eventually an opening presented itself. He turned tail and ran for it. Killing a few of them wouldn't make any of them run.

Though, he didn't get far before the large one grabbed him. Twilight snarled, twisting and sinking his teeth and claws wherever he could get them, until the large bokoblin yowled and threw him.

Twilight's stomach twisted as his body flailed. He only had a moment to think why couldn't I have been a bird before he slammed into the wide trunk of an oak tree.

That wasn't what hurt the most, however. It was the landing that did more damage. He tried to land on his feet and his front paw twisted and crunched beneath his weight.

He snarled through a whine, desperately getting to his three working feet, limping. His vision swam. With monumental effort, he shifted back to his hylian form, pressing his broken wrist to his chest and running before the bokoblins could catch up.

Every step radiated spikes through his entire arm. Tears pricked at his eyes against his will, and the shock of the injury, the adrenaline, the running, it stole his breath. He only managed to run a good four minutes before his boot caught on a root and he fell to the forest floor, clutching his wrist to his stomach to protect it.

He gasped, then gasped again, then noticed with some relief that he couldn't actually hear anything following him. He sighed, groaning, pushing himself to his knees, then feet, and limped the rest of the way back to his friends.

Wild was awake when he returned, Twilight threw him a lopsided grin as Wild's posture shifted from relaxed to shock as he took on the sight of him.

"Ran into some trouble," Twilight said through a gasp, and stumbled.

Wild had him by the shoulders before he could fall completely, helping lower him to a fallen over tree trunk. Nearby, Wind slowly sat up, hair a rat-nest and sleep retreating from his eyes. Great, he didn't mean to wake up the camp.

Wild was already pulling out health potions. "You need to stop going alone," he growled, and Twilight laughed. He didn't speak from a place of anger, but of worry. He shoved a red potion into Twilight's hands.

"Just a freak accident," Twilight said, waving vaguely with his hand.

"I don't care, take someone with you next time."

Twilight didn't want to, but Wild looked rightfully upset, so he gave a small sigh, took the potion like a shot of alcohol, and brought his good hand to Wild's shoulder to give it a squeeze.

"Next time, I will take someone with me. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Wild huffed, but gave a soft smile back.

#linked universe #hero of twilight #hero of the wild #jin writes #fanfiction

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years ago

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Perfect Timing (part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Hawkeye Pierce x reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: In a world where soulmates have matching tattoos etched on their wrists, Hawkeye is convinced that he won’t live long enough to find anyone with a tattoo similar to his, let alone matching. However, the day you arrive at the MASH 4077, injured and refusing to accept help, Hawkeye is shocked to discover that your tattoos match.

Warnings: Description of injuries, description of shock, blood, war setting, mild language, drinking reference, mild sexual references (just Hawkeye being Hawkeye)

You sat outside of the operating room for hours, staring into the abyss. The nurses and doctors left you alone. You were vaguely aware of whispers regarding who you were and the events leading up to why you were there. But beyond that, everyone left you alone. Until the surgeries were over. And Hawkeye came to sit beside you.

At first he said nothing, elbows resting on his knees as he fiddled with his surgical mask and looked at you. He sat pressed against you, his warmth slowly pulling you out of your shock.

When you looked at him he held your gaze, expression seeming to brighten at the victory of gaining your attention. “Buy you a drink?”

“Only if it’s gin.” You tried your best to smile at him, to pretend that your friend hadn’t just died and that it was totally normal to have a conversation while covered in dried blood.

Hawkeye’s eyes sparkled in response, something you hadn’t expected but found yourself clinging to as your thoughts slowly returned to the present. “You’re in luck. I know just the place.” He held out his hand. “Benjamin Pierce. Call me Hawkeye.”

You looked down at his outstretched hand. “My hands are dirty.”

“So are mine, especially when you add dancing and a candlelit dinner.” Hawkeye smiled as you accepted his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Your smile became more genuine. “I’m sorry about-”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time. Always.” Hawkeye nodded towards the door. “Shall we?”

You nodded and released his hand. However, the moment you stood a sharp, terrible pain ripped through your side. You gasped and grabbed your side, squeezing your eyes shut as you sank back onto the bench. “So you know how I said the blood was all John’s?” Tears stung your insides as you shook your head. “I lied.”

“Brilliant performance. If I wasn’t too busy playing doctor I’d give you a standing ovation.” Hawkeye’s hand slipped through your hair and cradled the back of your head. “Lie down.”

You were too weak to resist, allowing him to lay you down on the bench. You bit your lip against a whimper of pain as he began unbuttoning your jacket, pressing your hand tighter to your side. “Landed on it when they attacked. Think it’s just-” you hissed as he began to pry your fingers away from the wound. “God, don’t touch it.”

“Easy, I just need to have a quick look.” Hawkeye looked from you to your side, expression softening at the pain in your eyes. “It’s going to be okay. Promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Probably just, just broken. Just get some x rays done and I’ll be fine.”

“Excellent suggestion, doctor.” Hawkeye smirked when you managed to roll your eyes. “Just breathe and let me take care of you, all right? I’ve seen enough pain and death today. I don’t want to see anymore.”

You breathed as deeply as you could manage and nodded slightly, turning your head away as Hawkeye began to ease your bloodied shirt up to assess your wound.

His touch was gentle, practiced. But it still hurt.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you grit your teeth as he felt along your ribs.

“They’re broken.”

“Told you.”

“I can feel your heart racing.” Hawkeye pulled your shirt down and put a hand to your arm. “Hey, look at me.”

You did as he asked, biting your lip hard as his blue eyes looked into your soul like he had before when you first met.

“There you go, beautiful.” His calm, patient smile was better than a hundred jars of gin. “You’re okay. We’re gonna get you stitched up and then we’ll take x rays. You’ll get to meet my dumb roommate B.J.. He’s the worst, absolutely zero bedside manner.”

“Learned it all from him, huh?” You managed a smile for him, the pain lessening as your breathing slowed.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Hawkeye smiled back, hand sliding up to cradle your jaw as another wave of pain hit and you tried to look away. “Easy, look at me. That’s it. Look at me.”

“I’m fine.” You lied, reaching up and tugging at his hand even though you wanted nothing more for his touch to keep grounding you forever.

As you pulled Hawkeye’s hand away your eyes landed on the inside of his wrist and the soulmate tattoo etched there. You froze.

“Holy...Holy shit.”

“What?”

“You...You’re,” you look from him to the tattoo and back. “The hell are you doing here?”

“You’re going into shock.” Hawkeye took hold of your dark, bloodied hand and pressed his thumb over your pulse.

“No,” you twisted your wrist around and held it up to him. “I’m yours.”

Hawkeye’s brow furrowed for a moment. And then he saw it. There, under layers of blood and filth, was your soulmate tattoo. The symbol, a series of crosses and lines, perfectly matched his.

Hawkeye dropped your wrist as if he’d been burned. “Holy shit.”

“What are you doing here?!” You asked again, a hand to your side as you struggled to sit up. “I gave up on you, thought you’d never show up,”

“What, you think I planned this?” Hawkeye’s hands were on you, the duties of a doctor seeming to override his shock. “You need to stay down, this is no excuse for you to stop being wounded and in pain.”

“Hawk, please,” you gripped his arm and pretended that the pain in your side was not eating you from the inside out. “Don’t go. You cannot go.”

“I’m here, baby, I’m here.” His fingers carded through your hair, blue eyes glassy as he looked at you with such worry and concern and care that your heart stuttered with emotions far from pain. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Part 3

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sovereignjojoz · 2 years ago

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How Bucci squad would carry you/carrying them

Warnings: bizzare

Pairings: Bruno x reader, Mista x reader, Giorno x reader, Narancia x reader, Fugo x reader, Abbacchio x reader

Note - firstly thank you so much for 40 followers! And ik I’ve been away for so long but I’m back and I’ll start answering requests now!

Bruno Buccarrati

He’s a gentleman and a man of class, he will undoubtedly carry you bridal style.

He definitely prefers carrying you around to you carrying him.

Probably makes a stupid joke about how he swept you off your feet literally.

If you wanted he could carry you for hours, so long as you don’t mind.

He’ll definitely carry you if your sick or injured or needing to be taken care of!

Carrying him

Not a fan of it.

Unless you REALLY like it or beg incessantly he will most likely say no.

The only time you’d be able to carry him would be if you caught him of guard yet even that may be brief.

I think he’d be most tolerable to be carried piggyback style or likewise bridal style.

Narancia Ghirga

He may look small and as though he may not be able to carry you but surprisingly despite his stature he’s really strong.

Good luck with him, once you get picked up you’re not getting put down.

Carrying you on his shoulders is his favourite thing to do since he can still be mobile and he can scare you by pretending to drop you.

He’ll even go as far to suggest testing out those obscure poses on the internet and will attempt to carry you with no hands, which will result in a bruised head!

Carrying him

Do not offer or else you’ll be carrying him all day.

He’ll treat you like his chauffeur, making you carry him along to places he needs to be!

If you’re both short, it’s an efficient method to get stuff down from high places.

If he’s feeling cheeky he’ll feign an injury to be carried.

His favourite way of being carried is piggyback!

Leone Abbacchio

Why should he carry you, you move around yourself perfectly fine.

No matter how much you whine or beg he won’t indulge you, only choosing to do so when you become evidently disheartened.

If you annoy him he will drop you.

He doesn’t get the appeal but if you’re rendered immobile he supposes he’ll carry you.

Once he saw someone being carried by their ankles online and decided to try it on you.

Laughed when he dropped you on your head.

Carrying him

Absolutely not.

He doesn’t like it one bit.

Although he will be impressed if you can even carry him since he’s a six foot two male.

You’d have to catch him completely by surprise in order to carry him.

Realistically you’d probably be able to only carry him once before he clocked on.

Guido Mista

So unruly

Anywhere, any time, any place ,if you allow it, he’ll carry you.

Over the shoulder

Fireman carry

Piggy back

Bridal style

Shoulder ride

You name it he’s doing it

He’s so unnecessary, he’ll even do it whilst you do your daily tasks.

Want to make breakfast? He’ll fireman carry you to the kitchen, need something from upstairs? Over the shoulder and up the pair of you go. Need the toilet? Don’t worry he’ll piggyback you to your destination.

Those around you would 100% be used to it.

If your sick or injured it becomes ten times worse, you won’t even be able to take a step out of bed without being carried to where you want to go.

Attempted to lift you by your arm once and almost dislocated your wrist.

Doesn’t have a favourite way of carrying you, he enjoys it all!

Carrying him

Not afraid to admit that he quite enjoys it at times, especially since he gets to relish in the fact that you have to do all the work!

He’d want to be carried bridal style since he wants the royal treatment.

He’ll jump into your arms randomly just so you fall over whilst attempting to carry him.

If he’s injured or sick expect on over dramatised performance where he informs you that he expects you to carry him like he did you (he’s only half joking).

Pannacotta Fugo

He doesn’t love carrying you nor hate it, yes somewhat in the middle.

For some reason the first time he carried you he carried you from under your knees and it was very awkward.

Was definitely embarrassed after that.

Then progress and evolved into giving you piggybacks, although they’re not proper piggyback since he just lets his hands drape at the side of him.

Partial to fireman carrying also since it’s easy.

Carrying him

Again he’s more on the no side but will make an exception if he has to.

The first time you carried him you carried him from under his knees like he did to you and he was extremely embarrassed.

After that he’s so done with your attempts of carrying him.

Giorno Giovanna

Not the type to carry you often however when he does it’s very spontaneous.

Type of guy to carry his damsel in distress.

When you want to be put down he’ll put you down.

But he’ll also tease you when your being carried by him.

Not subject to carrying you only one way but also a huge enjoyer of bridal style.

Carrying him

Doesn’t hate it doesn’t love it.

Initially surprised at how weird it feels be carried bridal style.

If he’s injured he’ll let you carry him.

#jojo x reader #bucci gang x reader #fugo x reader #giorno x reader #bucciarati x reader #mista x reader #narancia x reader #leone abbachio x reader #crownprincegojo #abbacchio x reader #bruno bucellati x reader #guido mista x reader #vento aureo x reader #jjba x reader #golden wind x reader #jjba hcs

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h2bakugou · 4 years ago

Text

4k special | WAP dance reactions

a/n: it’s here! the big moment!! (edit 9.12.2020 - requests are closed and will reopen again soon!)

thank you for 4,000 followers, and as of editing, we’re at 4.3k, it’s insane, thank you so much, i love writing, and your support is what makes it possible. here’s to more in the future. thank you for all your love and support <3

dance credits go to @/ besperon on tiktok!

all characters aged up 18+ au!!

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o doing the wap dance

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, fluff, no smut but 16+

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Before you even start the dance, you’re pumping yourself up. The song is playing, and you’ve just decided you’ll dance to the part when it gets to it.

You practiced hard enough, and you had a few injuries but now you were ready.

Bakugou’s watching you closely. This song was very interesting to him.

All of the analogies in the song are shocking him the more he listens to it. It’s kind of groovy though.

Bakugou’s waiting, and as he reaches for his phone the ending hook comes and he’s frozen as you kick your leg up and begin to dance.

He watches as you bounce back in forth, your curves moving to the music.

He’s shocked by the way you move, he’s never seen you do anything like that before. But he’d certainly like to see you do it again.

“What was that?” Bakugou smirks. You catch your breath and stand up, smiling.

“The new dance I learned, did you like it?” You question, walking over to him.

“Oh I loved it.” Bakugou smirked. You rolled your eyes and sat down on his lap.

“Glad you enjoyed it.”

“Could you teach me how to do it?” Bakugou’s eyes were speaking for him, you knew exactly what he meant, but before you’d show him the dance privately, you’d worked his ass out and had him learn the dance.

He nailed it-

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve been practicing this dance for about a week or two now. And you were so excited to see Todoroki’s reaction of it.

“Hey Sho?” You call for your boyfriend and he emerges from his room. You were at his house, and thankfully there was plenty of space for you to do said dance.

“Yes baby?” He asks, standing in the doorway of the large studio you’d been warming up in.

“I have a dance I’d like for you to see me do.” You smile innocently.

“Alright.”

You begin to play the music, just before it gets to the part you’ll be dancing too and Todoroki’s face is already red.

And when the beat drops, you’re kicking your leg up and dropping down to the floor, popping your ass out and going at it.

Todoroki is entranced as he watches you, completely mesmerized by how you’re moving.

It’s so beautiful.

When you get to the split, Todoroki’s eyes widen as you move. He’s blown away.

“That was amazing.” Todoroki compliments. It was hot.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You whisper to him, pecking his cheek as his face reddens even more.

“Hey wait.” Todoroki grips your wrist and looks down.

“Do you have a few minutes?”

“Do you want a private dance lesson?”

“Yes.” Todoroki whispers.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Be prepared. Because Izuku is going to be a blushing mess before and after.

You’ve practiced, and he’s heard the song you practiced too. It was all over social media and he accidentally interrupted you while you were practicing.

But you shooed him out and finished up alone without any interruptions.

Deku can be a shy boy but he can also be dominant. A true switch.

“You ready?” You ask as Izuku sits down on the couch nervously. He nods and relaxes, sitting back into the dark green sofa.

The music starts and you sway your hips, waiting for the beat to drop, and when it does, you do too.

Izuku’s eyes are glued to you as you kick your leg up and land on the floor, throwing your ass out and following the routine.

Midoriya’s cheeks flush red as he watches, but he can certainly tell how hard it must’ve been to learn the dance, let alone how badass it was as well.

When you finish the dance, you bow and smile at Izuku, who’s trying his best to contain his excitement and fluster.

“That was amazing!” He was proud of you. He knows how hard training can be.

“Did you like it?” You questioned innocently, striding over to him on the couch, taking a seat on his lap.

“I loved it! You did great!” Deku beamed, no longer trying to hide his blushing face.

“There’s a lyric, in this song...”

“Yeah?” Deku’s hands rest on your hips.

“I think I’d like to spell my name out for you sometime.”

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

Horny. Jail.

If anyone knows this song, it’s Kaminari. He knows it word for word, and it’s probably one of his most played songs at the moment. Not for its lyrics, but because he genuinely finds it pretty groovy.

He also finds the ‘touch that little dangly dang that swing in the back of my throat’ part funny.

He’s probably also seen the dance a few times, he’s woke when it comes to tik tok culture.

So when he overhears you practicing the dance, he’s very curious.

“Whatcha doin’?” He peaks his head into the room and you quickly snap out of the position you were in.

“Nothing! Go!” You shoo him away with a smile, closing the door so you can finish practicing.

Kaminari has an idea of what’s going on.

So when you perform the dance for him, he’s aware and he knows what he’s expecting, but at the same time, he did not expect it at all.

The way your body moved and flowed with the music, you looked good, really fucking good.

“Shit.” Kaminari cursed, biting his bottom lip as you brought your leg back around, bouncing into the final split as you bounced up and down.

Kaminari’s never really seen you move like that before, but he knows now that he loves every second of it.

“What’d you think?” You ask, stepping over to him.

“I-It was good.” Kaminari had drool leaking from his mouth as he stared at you, his entire body threatening to short circuit.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You lean down and kiss his cheek, knowing that he was going to be smitten for you even harder.

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

He’s heard the song maybe once or twice thanks to Kaminari. He likes the song and thinks it’s actually pretty good.

He doesn’t know there’s a dance for it, and he certainly doesn’t know that you’re practicing it.

So when you bring him into your bedroom and sit him down on the bedroom, he’s a little confused.

And when you start dancing, his faces turns a shade of crimson, very similar to the one he dyes his hair.

Your body moves swiftly, and Kirishima’s eyes never seem to leave you as he watches you dance.

From the way you move your hips, to the point of your toes as you kick into the split.

Watching you do something like that is impressive, Kirishima is impressed.

“Wow.” Kirishima utters as you rise to your feet, clapping your hands together with a big grin on your lips.

“Did you like it?” You question, excitement bubbling inside you. It’d taken hours, probably close to a few days in fact, of practice to nail it. And it was well worth it.

You felt sexy, and validated, and strong, and badass.

“I loved it. You did amazing.” Kirishima smiles, trying to ignore the heat on his face.

“You’re blushing Kiri.” You comment, teasing the red-head as you walk over to him.

“I’m not! I’m just...”

“Being manly. I know.” You kiss his cheek and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Are you tired?” Kirishima asked quietly, his large hands resting on your hips.

“Why? Do you have something in mind?”

»»————-　★　————-««

tamaki amajiki

»»————-　★　————-««

Tamaki is flustered just being around you. He’s a nervous kind of guy, granted he can swallow his nerves when he needs too, but generally speaking, he’s gonna be a blushing mess when you mention even holding hands.

It’s no surprise what this song does to him.

Between the loss of words, and the sheer heat that radiates off of the bright blush on his cheeks, he’s flustered.

Even more so when you begin to dance.

It’s not like he’s embarrassed of sex, or songs that mention it, he just happens to get flustered easily.

Especially when you dance.

And you dance well.

He’s battling watching you or looking away and not trying to imagine the dance as anything more than a dance. It’s hard, but you wanted him to watch you. Why should he feel bad?

“B-bunny.” He stutters quietly as you transition into the split, popping your hips out, bouncing off the ground.

When the music fades out, he covers his face to hide the enormous blush on his cheeks.

“Awe, Tama-”

“Bunny. T-That was so beautiful.” He stutters, peeking through his fingers to look at you as you approach him.

“Thank you. Are you alright, your face is really red.” You peel his hands away and get close to his face, admiring your boyfriend up close.

“I-I’m fine. J-Just a little hot.” Tamaki gushes, looking away quickly.

“You don’t have to be so flustered about it, I wanted you to see me dance! It’s okay Tamaki.” You kiss his cheek and hold his hands, earning his gaze.

“Bunny.” Tamaki pulls you on top of him and you laugh at him for a second before admiring him even closer.

»»————-　★　————-««

mirio togata

»»————-　★　————-««

Ass man ass man ass man.

He literally sticks his ass out of a bush and you’re gonna tell me he isn’t-

He’s sold the second he hears the song, he already knows what’s about to happen because he’s kind of into the whole tiktok thing.

He watches in antcipation as the song plays, waiting for the moment you drop to the floor.

And he’s so into it. He’s grinning like an idiot, practically drooling over you as your hips move in ways he’d only ever imagined them to move.

More so, when you do the splits, he’s curious about how long you can do them for.

And when it’s over, he’s clapping.

“That was amazing, I had no clue you could move like that.” Mirio hus as you walk over to him.

“I’ve been practicing. I’m glad you liked it!” You smile, giving hin a short hug.

“Could I see those moves again sometime?” Mirio asks cheekily. You giggle and sigh.

“I guess I could teach you a little about them.”

»»————-　★　————-««

hawks/keigo takami

»»————-　★　————-««

This motherfucker.

He knew from day one what you were going to do. Just from hearing the song a little more often from your shared room, and the denial of him entering said room while it was playing-he caught on really quick.

So he did a little research.

And after watching a few videos of people dancing to it, he couldn’t fucking wait.

To see you do those moves? To see you move like that? Oh god he was foaming at the mouth.

He’d purposely try and spy on you while you were practicing, even daring to peep in from the window by flying outside of it.

But at the same time, he wanted it to be a surprise. He’d catch himself in the act of trying to watch you practice and he’d curse himself for being so impatient. Being patient was going to make the final experience even better.

And oh how happy he was to have waited.

Watching you pop your ass and move your hips, laying on the floor and bouncing your ass upward and even doing a split.

He was impressed.

And he was even more so, very intrigued.

“You gonna put all that training to use, Babybird?” Hawks’ sly smile and relaxed position on the couch made the comment that much more sensual.

With his arms stretched out over the tops of the cushions, and his legs pointed outward, you crawled and sat right between them, gazing up at him with bright eyes.

“You’d be lucky if I even let you sleep in the same bed with me tonight, horny ass.”

“Hey- I’m not even in season yet!”

“Shut it bird brain! You can test them out for yourself!” You joked as you got up, walking away from the winged man.

“Oh Babybird, you have no idea.”

»»————-　★　————-««

dabi

»»————-　★　————-««

Much like Hawks, this bastard is way too horny to not know what the fuck is going on when he hears the song WAP playing.

Even more when you practically beat his ass for barging into your apartment without knocking.

“I’m busy! What do you want?” You ask as you push him out of your bedroom, into the hallway toward the front door.

“I’m just checking in on my baby. Is that illegal?”

“Dabi, you’re literally a criminal-”

“A criminal of love baby.”

“Get out. I’ll text you if I need you dumbass.”

Back to practice, it’s tricky. The dance is very fast-paced, but you nail it. after way too many ice-packs and ‘fucking shit’s said later, you have mastered the WAP dance.

Around ten minutes after a ‘come over’ text, Dabi arrives to your apartment.

With candles set out, awaiting Dabi’s blue flames to light them and set the mood, you’re dressed simply in one of Dabi’s favorite outfits.

“Oh baby.”

“Light the candles and sit down.”

With no further questions, Dabi does as he’s told and takes a seat on the couch which he quickly notices is pushed back further than it usually is. Come to notice even more, most of your living room furniture is moved out of the way entirely.

When the music begins, you begin to dance as well, not wasting a second as the lyrics float into Dabi’s ears.

Watching your hips and your ass, Dabi is clearly interested in what you’re serving him. You look good too, but when you move like that, of course he’s going to be a drooling mess.

In a less sexual way, he’s impressed with your moves, he knows training is a big step to anything, so he wonders how hard you worked, and for how long, it took you to master this dance.

“Come here baby.” Dabi ushers for you to come to him with his pointer and middle finger after you finish dancing.

You take a seat on his lap and smile.

“We’ve already set the mood, why not continue? You could give me a private lesson on those moves you just did.”

»»————-　★　————-««

overhaul/kai chisaki

»»————-　★　————-««

He has no clue what you’re doing. You asked if you could show him something and now he’s in a room alone with you.

You’re setting up some music and he can’t keep his eyes off of you and the way you’re dressed. He was thankful he was alone in the room with you or he might’ve had to tell people to step out.

You were his angel after all, not anyone else’s.

When the music starts, his the tips of his ears begin to burn bright red. This music is raunchy and sexy, but he likes it. It’s got a good tune, and it’s empowering, and then he sees you.

You’re swaying your hips to the music until a certain point and you drop to the floor, popping your ass and grinding against the floor, dancing to the music erotically.

He’s impressed. Not as much that you’re dnacing on the somewhat dirty floor, but he’s impressed nonetheless.

“Angel, that was riveting.” Chisaki comments, his arms crossed over his chest. He can feel his pans becoming tight but he decides to ignore it.

“So did you like it? I worked extra hard on it.” You look so innocent as you approach him, your pink lips pursed and begging to be kissed as you stand in front of him.

“I loved it.” Chisaki nods, a smile rests on his lips under his mask unable to be seen.

“I could show it to you again up close if you’d like.” You hint at something a little more physcial which only stirs Chisaki more.

“That sounds like a good idea, angel.”

»»————-　★　————-««

tomura shigaraki

»»————-　★　————-««

I’m not sure if Tomura is a big tik tok guy. He’s into video games, and probably graphic novels too, but depending on his fyp, he probably won’t even get close to hearing the WAP song or know anything about the dance.

That being said, he’s gonna get annoyed if he hears “now from the top, make it drop’ one more time.

Currently wishing he could grip a sound wave and decay it.

But, when you pull him away from a video game, or say a meeting with league and sit him down in a chair in a dark room with some rather unpleasant lighting, maybe just enough to illuminate the two of you and nothing else, he’s confused, but also very interested in what you’re about to do.

And there’s that stupid line- ‘now from the top,’ and- you’re dancing.

His crimson eyes lock onto your figure as you dance, the growing urge to turn the music off suddenly dies as he watches you bounce and pop your hips.

The way your body moves, he’s addicted. Like you’re administering some sort of drug, he can’t look away.

When you lay on the ground and roll onto your back, spreading your legs as you roll into a crawl and then into split and continue to bounce your ass, he’s completely speechless.

The very definition of no thoughts, head empty.

And the aftermath of it all.

forget whatever the fuck he was doing before, forget the grudge he was holding against the lyric’ now from the top, make it drop’, forget the terrible lighting, he’s getting down to the bottom of whatever you just did.

“What was that?” Shigaraki ask, his hands daring to scratch at his neck.

“Did you like it?” You ask, batting your eyes at your flustered yet confused boyfriend.

“I liked it yes.” He mumbles, looking at you from the chair, you’re still sitting on the ground as he stands and walks over to you.

“You’re really flexible. Why didn’t you tell me that before?” He towers over you before squatting to your height.

“Meet me in my room in ten minutes.” He whispers.

»»————-　★　————-««

eraserhead/shota aizawa

»»————-　★　————-««

A man addicted to black coffee and funny cat videos on youtube has no knowledge of WAP or it’s current dance craze on tik tok. But do not let that discourage you.

After hearing the song a few times while you practice your dance, unbeknownst to him, of course, he might get a little curious.

You’re being secretive and it leads him to do a little research. Simply typing in a few lyrics, he finds the song and the dance shortly after.

He’s more or less very interested in what you might have to be doing. Because if you’re learning this dance, he might not know what to do with himself.

Sure enough, you come striding out of your shared room one day, wearing something cute for Aizawa.

“Got a minute?” You ask, pulling him away from grading papers.

Sitting him on the couch, you step back and turn on the song, smiling as he watches you.

And watch you he does. From the second you kick your leg up, to the second you bounce your ass the last time, ending the dance.

His eyes never leave you. The way you crawl, the way you lay on the floor and pop your hips up, he’s not the least bit uninterested.

“Where’d you learn all that Kitty?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest, his long raven hair parted to watch you even better.

“From the internet. Why? Curious to learn it too?” You tease, crawling over to him.

“Only if you teach me.” He says slyly.

“You’re supposed to do the teaching not me.” You smile up at him.

“Is that how you want to play?” Aizawa smirks and crosses his leg, cutting you off from crawling between his legs.

“You tell me, Kitty cat.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

7K notes · View notes

felicitysmoaksx · 3 years ago

Photo

Summary: Then the girl coughed, “Sarah Reese. Fourth Year Med Student.” As soon as the words passed through her lips, a pleasant burn came over the upper part of his arm where he knew his words to be. He had never experienced what happened when his words grew dark, but he had treated enough patients to know his words were darkening to black right now. Connor Rhodes had just met his soulmate.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Vague depictions of a train crash and probably inaccurate depictions of getting medical stitches. Along with probably many more inaccurate medical procedures.

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist

Your Words (Burned into My Skin)

Sarah Reese. Fourth Year Med Student.

The words were etched into Connor’s skin in a dark grey meaning he hadn’t met them yet. When he met her, the words would darken to black, like the ink of one of his tattoos. (Though these days he wasn’t sure he would meet her at all. He didn’t expect to meet her on his first day at Chicago Med, especially in the middle of a train derailment.

Connor blinked slowly as he became conscious. All around him he could hear groaning, crying, and even some screaming. Connor pushed himself up and quickly moved from person to person, assessing injuries and seeing who needed his help the most.

When he moved to the second car, he caught sight of the badge- GAFFNEY CHICAGO MEDICAL CENTER PERSONAL- before his eyes moved to the woman, who was awake and alert trying to get her bearings. She was a little bit younger than him, with curly brown hair pulled up into a bun, giving him a clear view of the cut she had on her forehead.

“And you are?” He asked as he moved forward to help her up. He felt her stiffen momentarily as she glanced up at him.

Then the girl coughed, “Sarah Reese. Fourth Year Med Student.”

As soon as the words passed through her lips, a pleasant burn came over the upper part of his arm where he knew his words to be. He had never experienced what happened when his words grew dark, but he had treated enough patients to know his words were darkening to black right now.

Connor Rhodes had just met his soulmate.

But now was not the time to dwell on that. Now, there were dozens of people who needed his-their help. He pulled her up, keeping a steadying hand on her arm when her knees buckled. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Far as I can tell the cut isn’t too deep. But I think my arm popped out of its socket when I fell and I’m not concussed. It’s 2015. I’m on my way to Chicago Med to start my ED rotation. Grew up in New York.”

His soulmate-Sarah Reese was right. Her left arm was popped out of its socket. He gripped it and pinned her with a sympathetic look, “I can pop it back, but it’s going to hurt.”

“Okay. Just do it,” She nodded.

“On three. One, two…” Connor didn’t say the other number, before he moved, snapping her arm back into place.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Sorry, sorry. But how do you feel? Can you move your arm now?” Connor asked. She could. It was a little sore now, but manageable. She told him as much.

“Then do you feel up to getting some practice in before your ED rotation? We have a lot of people that need help.” Connor half asked half told her.

“Guess, I can’t say no with the number of injured people. But technically, I’m not supposed to perform procedures without a Chicago Med doctor supervising.”

“Good thing, I’m Chicago Med’s new trauma fellow. I start today too.” He said his thumb, rubbing her left wrist to try and find her pulse, just to be sure she was okay, but she flinched and Connor soon saw why. Banded like a bracelet around her wrist were the first words he had ever spoken to her. ‘And you are?’

He opened his mouth to apologize. Touching someone else’s words was highly frowned upon. Even though he was her soulmate, he didn’t know her like that yet. She waved her hand backward, waving him off, “Let’s get moving.”

And moving they did. Sarah was a little hesitant with procedures and it grated on Connor’s nerves at first, because people needed help before he remembered today was her first day of her ED. This was probably her first experience with treating people outside of a textbook, especially to this degree.

“You good?” He asked in between people, glancing back at her.

“Yeah,” she answered him before turning to the woman on her phone as they passed her, “Miss, are you calling 911?”

“Yeah, they said firefighters and police should be here soon.”

They continued to press forward. Only to stop a moment later when they saw one of the train cars. It looked like an accordion in a way, being half on the train tracks and half off of it. But that wasn’t all. The was another car after it. It looked as if it had been tossed on its side like a toy instead of the real thing. There was a yellow electrical pole going through it.

“Oh, this just went from really bad to catastrophic. ” Connor mumbled more to himself than anything. His soulmate, however, turned back around to the woman calling out, “Ma’am? Can I use your phone? I dropped mine when I fell.”

“What are you doing? She said she already called 911.” Connor said, after checking the car for any major injuries. Biting her lip, Sarah pressed the phone to her ear, “I know. I’m just trying to give us a leg up.”

The line trilled and trilled before going to voicemail. Sarah sighed, shooting a text off to the same number then she tried to call again. This time the person picked up.

“Can’t talk right now Sarah. I’m on my way to a call.” Kelly’s Severide’s greeting was brief and to the point.

“The train derailment.” It wasn’t a question. With the size of this crash and the number of injured people, there were bound to be at least three firehouses on their way, if not more.

“Yeah, but how would you know? We just got the call about a minute ago. Not enough time for Chicago Med to get wind of it yet.”

When Sarah was silent, her step-brother sighed heavily. “You were on the train, weren’t you?”

“Technically, I’m still on the train.”

“Shit Sarah, we really need to get you a car,” Kelly swore.

“We can debate that later. Right now we have a lot of people who need help and that’s just who I saw. We still have two whole cars that we can’t get to. It looks like an EMS plan 2. Mass Casualty,”

Kelly swore again. “I’m buying you a damn car.”

“Accidents still happen with a car,” Sarah told him before she hung up. Handing the cell phone back to the woman she thanked her.

“CFD should have some idea of what to expect now.” She said to no one in particular as she turned back to survey the scene. She could faintly hear the sirens. It wouldn’t be long now.

An hour and a half later, after narrowly avoiding Kelly, Shay, Andy, Brett, and anyone else she saw of 51. Or any of Kelly’s other friends from other firehouses; Sarah was in an ambulance on her way to Chicago Med, trying to keep a little girl calm as she yelled for her father while Connor was in the ambulance ahead of her treating a man they found in the car on the ground. He had major crush injuries.

“My daddy! You have to go back for my daddy! I want my daddy! I love my daddy!” The girl continued to wail

When Sarah arrived at the hospital, a doctor took over with the little girl and Connor called for her to assist him.

“Can you do a Cortis line in the groin?” He asked as she slipped on a pair of gloves.

“Mmhm,” she mumbled, stepping forward and because of the way her morning had gone, Sarah was quick to get the line set up. But when it came to getting the line in-she couldn’t.

“I can’t find a vein!” She panicked, her hands shaking so much from the adrenaline finally wearing off from this morning. A woman sighed, “He’s a patient, not a pin-cushion.”

Her hands shook even more. The patient flat-lined and Sarah’s heart fell to her stomach before a hand reached over and gently pried the needle out of her hands, sticking it in one go. Connor’s voice appeared behind her back, “Okay, charge to 100. Clear!”

Everyone in the room echoed him as they took a step back. The monitor continued to flatline. Her soulmate (and if it hadn’t already been a disastrous morning Sarah would cringe at how bizarre that sounded even in the comfort of her own mind) called out again, “Charge to 200 and clear!”

The monitor stopped its one long beep abruptly and instead started to beep. Not steadily, but close enough that they could work on getting it back to steady.

“And he’s back,” Connor took his blood-soaked gloves off as did Sarah as she backed slowly out of the room while he addressed the nurses.

“Sarah Reese?” Sarah looked up to see an official-looking woman standing there. She wore glasses and held an air of professionalism in her black blazer and skirt with a white blouse and dark flats. The outfit brought out the warm hues in her brown eyes.

“Yes?” She asked nervously. The woman offered her hand, “I’m Sharon Goodwin. Chief of Services. We had decided you were a no-show when you didn’t show up this morning. But clearly, that wasn’t the case. Speaking of as soon as we have a doctor available, I’ll have someone stitch up your forehead. Other than that, do you have any other injuries we need to be aware of that need more immediate attention?”

“No ma’am,” Sarah accepted Mrs. Goodwin’s hand and shook it. Wincing slightly because her dominant hand was linked to her dislocated shoulder she had this morning. “And can I apologize for being late? This is not like me.”

“It’s not like you could control a train coming off its tracks and Nurse Sexton vouched on your behalf. But I wanted to welcome you officially to Chicago Med and I’ll see if I can get a doctor to see you soon.”

“It’s not that big of a deal I can-”

“I can do it,” a male voice said from behind them.

“Doctor Rhodes,” the chief of services, turned to face Sarah’s soulmate. She offered her hand to him as well as she introduced herself again. “Welcome to you also. Oh, you’re hurt as well.”

“I’m fine. Is every day like this?” He questioned dryly and their supervisor responded in kind, “Well, some days we’re busy.”

He laughed as another ambulance rolled in with a frequent flier with Cystic Fibrosis, named Jamie. He seemed to be a little younger than Sarah, just entering his early twenties.

“I can wait,” Sarah assured the chief of services and Connor after Mrs. Goodwin asked him to look after Jamie because all of the other ED doctors were attending to crash victims. She shrugged, “Head wound isn’t going anywhere.”

Connor narrowed his eyes at her. She rolled her eyes. How come he could claim to be fine with an injury and she couldn’t? “I’m serious. It’s fine. Blood’s dry and I’m not even feeling dizzy.”

Then she walked away before he could argue with her. Soon she was pulled into another case. This one started with a mom running out of a treatment room, screaming that her daughter couldn’t breathe.

Sarah moved without thinking about it. Pressing the code blue button, she started chest compressions. It would be later after she had broken the girl’s ribs, that it was the same girl from the ambulance ride.

“Hey, I‘m waiting on some test results for Jamie so I can sew you up now,” Connor said a little while later, then he paused when he saw the expression on her face. His soulmate seemed…lost for lack of a better word, “…Are you okay?”

“I just broke a little girl’s ribs to restart her heart.” She said dimly, almost unaware of who she was speaking to or speaking at all for that matter.

“So you saved her life,” Connor said slowly, slightly louder than he normally would when talking to someone right next to him. Maybe he could get her to focus on the fact that she had just saved someone’s life.

“But I broke her ribs.” She repeated. Connor sighed softly, reaching out to grip her shoulder. He squeezed until his soulmate met his eyes. She had brown eyes. Which he knew already, but now he could take the time and study them. He was a sucker for brown eyes, but it seemed like he was a sucker, especially for her. They were soft brown like milk chocolate. And warm. So warm.

“To restart her heart,” Connor said in a serious but soft tone. He squeezed her shoulder again. Dimly he wondered if he would be trying this hard to make her feel better if she wasn’t his soulmate. “Broken ribs can always heal. We can’t always restart a heart. But you did that for a little girl.”

“I guess,” she mumbled and Connor had to accept that for now as he led her to an empty treatment room. He had her sit down on a treatment bed while he gathered what he needed to stitch her up.

“You believe in them, don’t you? Soulmates?” She asked. He was cleaning off the dried blood from her forehead.

“My mom and dad weren’t soulmates. But my mom had one. He died when they were in college. She always talked about how special and important soulmate bonds were. I guess somehow that got impressed onto me, being the one out of me and my sister to receive a soul mark. You don’t believe in them?” He didn’t have to ask. The way she asked said that she did. But Connor asked anyway.

Sarah shrugged as he threaded the needle. “I’ve watched my mom go through two nasty divorces and I’m part of the two percent of the U.S. population born with a soul mark when neither parent had one. The only people around me that are soulmates or had met each other were my brother’s best friend and his wife. So I…I’m not quite sure what you want from me.”

At least she was honest. And to be completely honest with himself, Connor wasn’t sure what he wanted from her either. In the beginning, when he first received his mark, he wanted a relationship like his mother had had with her soulmate. But as the years wore on and he didn’t find her, he started finding other people. A few serious relationships and a longer than he cared to admit list of one-night stands. Yet the stories his mother would tell to him and his sister kept swirling in her head.

He put numbing cream on her skin, before tilting her head to get a better angle for the stitches. Sarah hissed when the needle first made contact with her skin.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” He muttered to her out of habit. They sat in silence while he worked for a few minutes until…

“I know how to do a groin line,” she told him abruptly. But Connor didn’t even so much as falter in his movements as he tied off her wound. He nodded, “I’m sure you do. It was probably just your adrenaline wearing off.”

“Your adrenaline was probably wearing off too. But you stuck it in one go.”

“I have four years more experience than you do. It’s only your first day. Give it time and you’ll get there.” He paused, “You up for helping me now? I can stitch myself up. But I can’t tie off my wound myself from the angle I’m going to have to come at it with.” When Sarah nodded, he moved, changing his gloves, picking up a new needle, and threading it. Then he stripped off his shirt and got to work.

“So can I ask you a question?” He asked while she put on a pair of gloves.

“Sure…Oh wow. Your stitches are nearly perfect.” She said, watching as his practiced easy movements. She looked into his eyes, “Is that a trauma surgeon thing or a you thing?”

Nothing he didn’t already know. So Connor smirked slightly at his soulmate, “I’d like to think it’s just a me thing. But it’s just years of practice. After my residency, I spent a year in Riyadh where I was paid very well not to leave unsightly scars.”

“So you’re not full of yourself at all,” she deadpanned. Connor's smirk morphed into a grin as he struggled to contain his laughter. Well, Sarah Reese wasn’t as timid as she seemed.

“Were you a firefighter before you decided to go to medical school?” He asked and to his slight surprise because she seemed to know about the CFD. While he hopped in the back of the first ambulance he saw with Jorge, he caught Sarah staying back to talk to a very tall, broad-shouldered man with dark umber skin and inky black hair. From the way he was dressed before he wrapped a firefighter jacket around his large frame, he seemed to be someone of importance.

“But you were talking to that man at the scene. You seemed to know a lot of their shorthand,” Confusion dawned in her brown eyes so he clarified, “The one with the white shirt?”

“Oh, you mean Boden. Yeah, he’s the battalion chief over at firehouse 51. But no. I’m not a firefighter. Probably should’ve been, considering how I was raised but I can’t run for shit. My brother is though. He’s a lieutenant. I guess some of what he’s been saying since I was twelve finally sunk in.”

Connor hummed in acknowledgment, pulling another stitch closed. “You said you were from New York on the train?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I moved to Chicago when I was ten though. Left for college and then came back to the city for medical school. Wanted to have more family around. You?”

“Chicago. Born and bred. Been away for a while.” He made the last stitch, before glancing up at her. “Can you pinch the sides together now?”

“Well then welcome home,” she said with a smile and he grinned back.

There was a knock on the window before the glass door slid open. Sarah looked up and saw April standing there with a stack of clothes and a tablet.

“Dr. Rhodes, Jamie’s scans came back, and oh, here are your scrubs. And Ms. Acosta, Jorge’s girlfriend is here.” She said, before pivoting to Sarah, handing her a set of blue scrubs. “And these are my backup scrubs, but at least they’re not bloody or covered in dirt.”

“I may need to start carrying a change of clothes with me because this seems to happen to me a lot at Med.” Sarah smiled gratefully at the nurse, “Thanks April.”

“Oh, and Herrmann and Andy Darden are here, dropping off belongings from the train. I think Darden is also looking for you though.”

“Thanks, April,” she said once more. Shooting her brother’s friend a smile in thanks and then one at Connor, “And thanks for stitching me up. You probably saved me from a lecture that I really don’t have the energy to deal with right now.”

She paused by the door as she rolled her eyes fondly, “That’s big brothers for you though.”

Then she was stepping out of the treatment room, sliding the glass door shut behind her as she walked away. Connor glanced at the nurse. April, Sarah had called her. “She isn’t really as timid as she seems is she?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve known Sarah since she was ten. I went to school with her brother. It takes a little while to get her out of her shell, but once you do…” She trailed off while a smile slowly grew on her lips and Connor nodded as he looked down at the tablet. He understood what she was saying.

Andy had her phone. They found it during the overhaul and apparently he came to check on her because Kelly couldn’t. Squad Three had received another call after they finished helping Truck with the clean-up of their assigned train car. He hissed when he saw her forehead, after pulling away from the hug, he had pulled her into upon seeing her.

“How many stitches?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You know Kelly’s threatening to buy you a car.”

“And how long has he been saying that? For the last four years?” Sarah rolled her eyes, “I want a car like what he has. I want a car where we rebuild the motor like we did when you were two were in high school.”

“You want a 2007 black and yellow Camaro where we rebuild the engine.” Andy corrected with a smirk folding his arms over his chest, “Because you love the movie Transformers and want a Bumblebee.”

“Kelly promised after I finished my first year of college,” Sarah laughed. Her brother’s oldest friend nodded with a snort, “I know. Who do you think has been going to car graveyards and car dealerships with him?”

Herrmann called out to Andy and both he and Sarah turned. They were ready to head back to the crash site for the next load of belongings. She waved to the older firefighter as her bonus big brother planted a kiss on her forehead. As he made his way across the room, he turned and was walking backward when he called to her, “Oh! And Heather says you better be at the baby shower! She’s counting on you to keep her sane since Shay’s got baby fever these days.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” Sarah waved her hand flippantly and Andy laughed again as he turned back around jogging after Herrmann.

“The central line. Can’t tell you how many times I missed it before I got it.” He said as he found the one person he had been searching for all day. She looked back at him, a frown pulling her lips down. She eyed him warily for a moment before she returned to her task. “I’m fine with him. I never miss.”

Connor moved so he was standing more in the room, folding his arms. “Yeah, that’s because he’s the ideal patient. His life isn’t in the balance and you can’t hurt him.”

Sarah huffed, eyeing him again. She clicked her tongue, “If this wasn’t a requirement, I wouldn’t even be here.”

She turned back around, the sleeve of her lab coat falling slightly, and now he could see his words on her skin. Still banded like a bracelet around her wrist were the first words he had ever spoken to her. ‘And you are?’

Connor forced his eyes to look away from her wrist and back to her face. “And where would you be?”

“I’m a lab person,” she admitted quietly. Connor raised an eyebrow, “Pathology?”

“Maybe,” she admitted quietly. He nodded and then told her, “Every med student feels that way when they first start treating patients…I did.”

“You? Mister trauma?”

He chuckled quietly, “Hey, that’s Dr. Trauma. Most people call me Connor though. But yes, my first day dealing with patients I swore, when match day came up, I was going to pick pathology.”

“What happened?”

”Somewhere along the way I just fell into a rhythm of things and figured out I liked helping people way too much to be in a lab all day.” Connor shrugged, “I’m not saying it’ll be the same for you. But don’t make any decisions yet based on your first day in the ED. Give it some time.”

Then he was walking away, leaving Sarah to stare after her soulmate.

“Hey!” Kelly said, spotting his step-sister at the end of the shift. He smiled sympathetically at her, “Hell of a first day huh?”

“Yeah. What are you doing here? I didn’t figure I’d see you until I got home tonight.” Sarah yawned, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, I have a date-” Kelly Severide looked sheepish. He rubbed the back of his neck, “-with April. But these plans were made before this morning so if you want me to, I can cancel and take you home.”

She knew when they were made. She also knew her brother had been really excited about this too. And Sarah wasn’t about to let them cancel just because she had gotten hurt. “No. It’s okay. Go on your date. I’m just a little sore. Nothing I can’t handle and if I need anything, Shay will be there. I already talked to her.”

Truthfully she didn’t know if Leslie Shay would be there or not. But she didn’t want her big brother to worry about her. And it seemed to satisfy her brother as he nodded. “How are you getting home?”

“I figure I’d just take the bus,” Sarah shrugged, but Kelly shook his head and reached into his pocket, “Take my car. I’m sure April won’t mind dropping me home after.”

When he dropped the keys in her hand, he saw her words. No longer dark grey but black. “So you met them? When?”

“Yeah. Today on the train.”

“What’s he like?” There was a pause before her brother corrected himself, “Or she? What’s she like?”

When Sarah said nothing, Kelly continued to squirm, “Or they? What are they like?”

“He, or at least I think so. He hasn’t corrected me otherwise.” Sarah laughed, before shrugging, “And he seems alright so far. But it’s only been a day.”

After her step-brother surprised her and told her to keep an open mind about her soulmate, (Mister Made His Way Through Half The Female Population of Chicago) he pressed a kiss to her forehead as a goodbye, saying he needed to find April or she might think he stood her up.

So Kelly’s advice was the only reason Sarah could think of that propelled her to offer Connor a ride home when she saw him start to leave for the night.

“Hey, my brother had a date tonight and left me his car. Do you want a ride home?” Her soulmate turned and blinked at her. Considering her. Then he nodded with a tired smile, “Sure, that’d be great.”

“Just...Keep an open mind, Sarah. I know you have your perception of love. But he might surprise you.”

#One Chicago #Rheese #Sarah Reese #Connor Rhodes #Chicago Med #Chicago Med Fanfiction #one chicago fanfiction #Kelly Severide #April Sexton #Andy Darden #OC Soulmate au #My writing

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stellar-imagines · 4 years ago

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」

You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.

"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.

She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.

While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.

”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.

”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.

Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.

Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.

"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.

With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.

You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.

“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.

”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.

Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.

"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.

"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.

"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.

"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.

"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.

”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.

"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.

"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.

"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.

"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.

"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.

"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.

"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.

"Mommy used to pull my hair too."

You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.

"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.

”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.

"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.

"Everyone is joining right?"

There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.

"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.

"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.

"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.

Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.

"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.

Why does he agree to the stupidest things?

Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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k-comfyspace · 3 years ago

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Care

Star: Son Hyejoo (Loona)

Idea: Yes

Love: Hello~i love your works so much, it's so good istg im not even kidding, I hope you have/had a great day though<3 I just want to ask since a hyejoo imagine where fem reader tells her to at least take a rest because she's exhuasted lately bcs she's been pushing herself (literally all of them is, bbc isn't doing anything) also with her knee injury is taking a toll :<< and tells her to take a rest and takes care of her. Fluff pls😭

A/n: Such kind words

Every step they took worried you, each time you would see them flinch, or look down on their knees as they went off stage.

Though, as much as you were concerned about everyone, your eyes were only drawn to one person, following her every move, concerned that any second she could fall. You knew it wasn’t likely, but it didn’t ease your worries when they had finished.

She knelt on the ground, her face stoic, a chic look on her face. Until the camera moved away.

She let her expression drop, closing her eyes as she breathed out deeply. You stood up from your place, walking past the staff to their waiting room. You were the first one in, sitting on the couch as you waited.

When you heard the chatter behind the door, you looked up. You smiled at each one as they entered, congratulating them on their successful performance.

"Everyone did great!" you commented, raising your thumbs while they smiled back,

"Were you really watching us? As far as I could tell, you only had your eyes on one of us," Hyunjin commented, squinting her eyes, teasingly, while the others laughed at the cat's comment.

A light blush spread on your cheeks, punching her playfully on the shoulder before you padded over to your girlfriend.

Hyejoo was seated on the couch, drinking a bottle of water before wiping her sweat. You took a seat on the table in front of her, looking down at her knees as you cringed, seeing the blood trailing down. You clicked your tongue and looked around, seeing a box of tissues behind you.

Reaching for it, you carefully tapped her knee, careful as to not press too hard, while the girl let you. She only moved her knee when you went to rub it slightly,

"It hurts," you heard her mutter, pushing your hand away. Though you held her wrist.

"It’ll be done in a second," you murmured, focused on your task while Hyejoo closed her eyes, absorbing the slight sting that would come once in a while.

When you finished both knees, you sighed, taking both of her hands in yours. You knew it brought the girl comfort, even though the countless times she pretended to hate the skinship, you could read her eyes easily to know when she needed it.

Right now, you could see the way her eyes softened, feeling her squeeze your hands, a breath escaping her lips as she closed her eyes for a moment.

It was almost as if you two only existed in the room. Thankfully, her members weren’t in the mood for teasing as they busied themselves with packing and changing.

They could see both of you, discreet smiles on their faces, but they let you two have your time knowing that you’ve spent far too long being apart.

"You have to take it easy, Hyejoo," you whispered after a while, rubbing circles on the back of her palms, the latter furrowing her eyebrows at the comment.

"I’m fine,"

She reasoned, a sigh withdrawing from your lips as you looked at her. Who could she fool?

The dark circles under her eyes, the way her voice was getting raspier, and the sluggish movements she would make when both of you got home.

It was all a sign that she was getting tired and, while she would continue to utter that she was fine, everything else proved her otherwise.

"Hyejoo," you started, but she sighed before you could say anything further,

"Y/n, I’m fine, it’s only a few more days till we’re done. I promise as soon as we are done promoting, I’ll rest,"

You stared at her for a while, looking into her eyes, you knew she was stubborn. Oftentimes, it was the reason why you wanted to take care of her, the way she wouldn’t stop for anything.

Though, as much as she wanted to keep going, you also saw the tiredness in her eyes, so with a sigh, you nodded.

Pulling her as you left a kiss on her forehead, giving her one more squeeze before letting your girlfriend change.

When Hyejoo left the room, a sigh escaped your lips before meeting their leader’s eyes. Haseul looked at you with a smile, having seen the exchange between her member.

It made her happy, knowing that someone else could take care of her friend like she does and more. She always relied on you to make Hyejoo happy. Though she had no issues in that regard, the older girl was glad that you could make her happier.

As long as Hyejoo was in your hands, she had nothing to worry about.

Soon enough, a week had already gone by. The girls had finished promoting, which meant that it was time for them to get the rest that they needed.

Hyejoo was at the dorms, packing her things since she decided that she would want to spend some time with you during their break.

Her members had no qualms about it since most of them had no plans, and they could always come to visit if they wanted to.

You adjusted your glasses, as you continued your work in your room when the door opened. You raised your head at the intruder, knowing that you didn’t have anyone over. When you saw the familiar brown hair, you stood up with a smile.

You padded towards Hyejoo and opened your arms, which your girlfriend didn’t refuse. Entering your embrace as she reveled in your warmth, resting her head on your chest, she sighed.

Feeling your arms circling her body. You closed your eyes, letting the silence settle as you left a kiss on her forehead, resting your cheek on top of her head. Both of you stood there for a while, no words exchanged.

Hyejoo was unmoving, sighing whilst she felt you rub her back. Even if both of you were the same height, she felt so small in your arms.

The way you would occasionally leave kisses on her forehead when you whisper sweet nothings, and the warmth you would give her every time you cuddle.

You kept her in your arms before you took a step to the right, then the left. Alternate steps, since Hyejoo had her eyes closed, she thought you brought her to your bed. But after a few minutes, she heard you hum quietly as you continued slowly swaying side-to-side.

Another breath left her lips, everything felt so satisfying

By the end of the day, she was able to come to you when she sought comfort, happiness, and someone to support her. You will always be the most amazing girlfriend ever, she couldn’t put into words how much you mean to her.

She would always feel bad that you were the only one to make sacrifices, but each time she felt that way, you would always say the same thing.

Cupping her cheek and staring into her eyes, "I love you now, I’ll love you tomorrow, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life."

It always successfully flustered her, a bright tinge of pink on her cheeks, which only seemed to grow when you smiled at her.

"I didn’t notice you came in," you whispered, withdrawing from her partially, still keeping your arms around her hips.

"Are you busy with work?" she asked, a look forming in her eyes, but you were quick to stop her, placing a finger on her nose, taking her attention from her thoughts.

"I can go to work later, I’m almost done. We can rest for a while," you said, Hyejoo sighing since she couldn’t stop you. Sometimes both of you were alike, completely stubborn.

You led her to bed, both of you moving to your sides before meeting in the middle. You rested your back against the headboard, while Hyejoo leaned against your chest, playing around with your hair as both of you let the silence set in.

A few minutes later, you heard a yawn, looking down at your girlfriend, you met her eyes. She rested her chin on your chest as she looked back at you.

"Do you want to sleep?" You asked, seeing the nod, you caressed her head, leaving another kiss on her forehead.

"You can rest," you told her, but Hyejoo shook her head, seeing the furrow in her eyebrows before she smiled, reaching up to remove your glasses, folding them, and placing them on her nightstand.

"Nap with me," you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face, shifting down to lay on the bed, your girlfriend taking her place in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck, half of her body on top of yours.

It was these kinds of moments that made you happy. Even through every challenge you two faced together, you were happy that there was always a good ending.

Rewarding moments where both of you did nothing except bask in each other, it almost felt better to spend a long time apart, that way, when you two come together again, you can cherish it more.

Bright lights shone in her eyes, a groan slipping past her lips as she opened them.

Hyejoo adjusted her vision, waking up as she took in her surroundings. She took note of the dark ceiling, matching the small stars that were littered all over, acting as the night sky as some of them sparkled because of the sun.

She turned to the side, seeing you sleeping peacefully. Throughout the night, you moved in your sleep, turning to your side as you faced the girl.

Hyejoo took the time to observe your features, from your soft brown hair to your eyes, your cute button nose and your pink lips. It baffled her sometimes that you always thought she was the prettiest.

But it was always you that she thought was the prettiest in the world. No word could describe you, no number could rate you, and no one could ever compare to you.

As subtle as she could, Hyejoo raised her hand, shuffling it under yours before interlocking your fingers. A smile formed on her lips when she felt you squeeze her unconsciously. She placed a kiss on the back of your hand, putting all the love and gratitude she could ever give.

A few minutes later, she felt you shift, opening your eyes as you met hers. A smile forms on your lips, the smile she never knew she would be addicted to.

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #loona #loona imagines #loona scenarios #loona hyejoo #hyejoo #son hyejoo #hyejoo imagines #hyejoo scenarios #olivia hye #loona olivia hye #olivia hye imagines #olivia hye scenarios

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

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AAAAAH!!! Petition for the news people to show Chris's face on tv and Akio and his mom see and come to rescueee -🦖

(follows from this piece, in what I am calling the Chris Saves Himself AU)

CW: BBU, some vaguely dehumanizing language, references to child abuse and ableism

"Mom! Aki!" Emi's voice rises loud enough to filter right up the stairs and into Akio's room, audible right through his headphones while he listens to his playlist of Tristan's favorite songs and lays in bed.

Akio sniffs, sitting up and taking the headphones off, rubbing the tear tracks off his face. It's still light outside - he never knows what time it is anymore, not since he quit gymnastics. "Emi? Did you say something?"

"Yeah, you better get down here like right now! Right now!" The urgency in her voice sets his heart to beating faster and Akio pushes himself up, taking the stairs three-steps-to-a-jump. His mother is right behind him, coming out of her own room with her book still in hand, thumb marking her place.

"Are you okay, honey?" Aimi calls out. Somehow even though she doesn't skip any steps she beats Akio to the bottom. "Em? Emi?"

"I'm fine, I swear, just-... look at the TV!"

Akio and Aimi swing into the living room, finding Emi sitting on the couch, remote in hand, groaning in frustration.

"Damn it, they just cut way from his-... hold on, let's see if they cut back before this ends. You have got to see this."

"Just what have I got to see?" Aimi asks, frowning, walking up behind Emi and absentmindedly tucking a bit of hair behind her daughter's ear. Emi sort of ducks-pulls away, rolling her eyes. "I'm almost to the bit where the ship sinks, Em."

"I know, I know, don't mess with your reading time but-... but look!"

Akio's eyes scan the TV, reading the chyron - the little moving headline at the bottom - that says MYSTERY BOY FALLS FROM BALCONY IN GOVERNOR'S MANSION - IN HOSPITAL WITH SERIOUS INJURIES - POLICE LOOKING FOR CLUES TO IDENTITY - GOV. BRANCH CLAIMS LEGAL PURCHASE FROM WRU - WRU DENIES CULPABILITY...

Talking heads banter back and forth about the seriousness of the scandal, the lack of documents to prove any kind of veracity to the governor's claims.

The anchors start interviewing a woman with short, dark red hair with a cold smile that sends a chill down Akio's spine. Karen Renford, WRU Representative to the Media, reads the little nameplate beneath her as she speaks.

"Since when do you care about politics?" Akio asks, head tilted. "This is stupid. I don't care about any of this."

"WRU sponsors your team, Aki-"

"It's not my team anymore. I'm going back to my room."

He turns to leave, but feels Emi grab at his wrist, and when he looks back her black eyes are pleading. "Please, Aki. Please. Trust me, you will want to see this."

He sighs. Everything feels too heavy to add one more thing to his days right now. But Emi is his little sister, and... "Yeah, okay." He moves around the corner of the sectional and flops himself down on it. He's put on some weight since he quit gymnastics, the waistband of his jeans digging just a little into his stomach where he used to have to wear a belt.

He doesn't care. It's... actually really nice to not have to care. He kind of likes himself better this way.

If only he didn't have to be grieving his best friend's death to get there-

"There!" Emi hisses, and her nails dig hard into Akio's forearm, hard enough for him to wince. "There, Aki, fucking look!"

"Language, young lady-" Aimi starts, and then falls silent. When she whispers, "Nantekotta..." That's when Akio looks at the screen.

Where his dead best friend is very much alive in a hospital bed.

He hears a thump and jumps, turning to see his mother's book on the floor, fallen from suddenly numb fingers as she stares unblinking at the boy on the TV screen.

Akio looks back and swallows, hard, and then swallows again. Inside him there is a sudden burst of fight between the despair and anger he's been living in and a kind of awful, horrifying hope.

"Tris?" He whispers.

"I told you!" Emi says, still holding his forearm painfully. He doesn't pull away from her - he can feel her starting to shake right alongside him. His eyes flood with hot tears and he has to blink them away to focus on the screen.

"-are speaking with the boy, who appears to be a legitimate WRU product. A simple barcode scan was performed, and police have the pet's designation, Facility number, and basic identification number." Karen Renford's voice speaks in voiceover. "However, WRU has been unable to find in our own records at the Facility any record of the boy's existence or training. WRU has strict ethical protocols surrounding the age of accepted trainees who apply, and it's increasingly clear that none of our Facilities would have taken on this individual, especially not our flagship Facility here in Berras-"

Akio hears none of this.

Instead, he hears only a rushing as loud as a waterfall filling his ears, the sound of his own blood pulsing through his veins as his breaths go shallow and gasping.

Tris is right there.

He's alive and he's right there.

He's sitting in a hospital bed, cringing back from the doctors speaking to him, looking at them with wide, terrified eyes. There are bruises around his neck like someone-... bit him, or something. His arms are bruised, wrists rubbed red in circles. He doesn't sway or rock or tap like Tristan Higgs, he sits perfectly, hauntingly still.

But it's Tris.

It's him.

"He's alive," Akio says, and his voice is strangled. "Tris is alive, he's alive, but he's-... he was-"

His mother's hand rests on his shoulder and Akio tenses at the firey rage he feels right through the tension in her fingers. "His aunt," Aimi says with a voice that cuts through bone. "His aunt told us he was dead."

"She said he-... you know... did the thing. To himself," Emi says, looking nervously sideways at Akio. "That he ran away and they found him."

"He told me she took away all his stuff and stopped giving him his meds and then she took his phone... why would she say all that if he was alive the whole time, Mom?" Akio looks back up at Aimi, and she looks back down at him.

He is terrified of her, in that moment. Scared of her the way you are scared of a bear rushing at you, knowing that you aren't much more than a matchstick in its way. But he also wants - needs - her to tell him everything is going to be fine.

Instead, she pulls her hand back off his arm and turns to leave the room. She murmurs to herself in a rapid-fire string of Japanese even Akio isn't quite keeping up with, and he jumps up to follow her, Emi on his heels.

"Mom? Mom, what are you doing? Mom, answer me-"

"Mom?"

They manage to catch up to her in the den, where she's picked up her cell phone still charging, plugged into the wall, and dialed a number.

"Mom-"

Aimi holds up one finger without looking at him, phone to her ear, and Akio's voice cuts off immediately.

"Yes, hello," She says to whoever picks up. "My name is Aimi Nakamura and I am calling about the boy found in the governor's mansion today. I believe I can tell you who he is." She pauses. "Who he really is."

Another pause.

"Yes, I'll wait."

Yet another pause. Akio and Emi stay in the doorway, staring at her in baffled confusion. Neither of them dares to speak when her face looks this way. They know better than that.

Finally, Aimi takes another breath. "Yes. Thank you. Hello, Detective... Davis. Right. My name is Aimi Nakamura." She rattles off her phone number and address when she is asked for them without hesitating. "Yes, as I said-... as I said to whoever answered the phone, I know who the boy in the governor's mansion is. I have absolutely no doubt... Yes. His real name is Tristan Paul Higgs. He was born-... oh, yes, sorry. I can slow down. His birthday is March 6th... yes. I don't know his social security number entirely but I know the last four digits were 6654... his mother and I were close friends. Veronica Botham Higgs - Ronnie. She was murdered, with her husband, it was a double-... oh, you remember? Tristan survived it. Custody went to his only surviving relative, Joanne Botham..."

Aimi swallows, and Akio feels Emi's hand seek his out and squeezes it tightly, reassuringly, as their mother's steel comes flashing to the surface underneath her usual deceptive tranquility.

"Joanne Botham works for WRU. Her nephew lost his family and was given to her. And now, more than a year after she told us he was dead, he falls out a window with a WRU barcode. I think you see where I'm going with this, detective."

Another long silence.

"Yes. I need about an hour and a half. Is that too long? Perfect."

She hangs up, and turns to look at Akio and his little sister. There is a startling brightness to her that makes Akio think she's feeling exactly what he is - grief and horror and rage and that awful swell of hope.

Maybe it really was just a horrible mistake.

Maybe he's never been dead.

Maybe he's still breathing.

"Put your shoes on," Aimi says in a flat voice. "We are going to meet Detective Davis at the hospital where Tris is."

#Chris Saves Himself AU #chris the strawberry blond romantic #aimi nakamura #akio nakamura #grief tw #dehumanizing language #karen renford #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #alternate universe #I might do one more AT the hospital but that's it I swear

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years ago

Note

SPOILERS! SORRY i wanna request another annie x reader, this includes spoilers like season 4 episode 8, and when annie comes out of her crystal in the manga so feel free to ignore! basically, reader was in sasha’s place and ended up dying when gabi shot her. after annie comes out of her crystal, the scouts explain to her what happened to reader. when annie and the scouts see gabi again, annie has a breakdown and screams at gabi how much reader meant to her? <3 tysm!!

You guys are sending me on an Annie brainrot, I’m not even kidding...

Also, the part where Annie comes out of the crystal hasn’t been animated yet (I already knew it happened cause of spoilers don’t worry), so I kinda just looked it up really quickly, so it might not be super accurate but ya know.

ALSO I LISTENED TO “I love you” BY BILLIE EILISH WHILE WRITING THIS AND IT HONESTLY ADDS TO THE MOOD SO MUCH BUT IT’S MAKING ME SAD

Tragedies of War

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon (Somewhat non-compliant)

Warnings: Slight violence, season 4 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After coming out of the crystal, Annie searches for her s/o, and when she receives news of your passing, she searches for the one who ended their life in order to get closure.

Words: 5.0K

The sun shined harshly onto the parched dirt below your feet, and a swift pivot of your foot kicked a small cloud of dust into the space that surrounded your legs. You had dodged Annie’s punch flawlessly, and you held your hands up to your head defensively, just as she had taught you.

For a moment, a smile graced her lips. She was proud of how quickly you were catching up to her technique. She had taken up the task of teaching you basic martial arts and hand-to-hand combat after you expressed your dismay at being so inept at it.

Her fists raised to her face once again, signifying her readiness to continue.

You slowly approached her, preparing to land a strong hit, and hoping to get the upper hand against the experienced blonde girl.

Once you were in range, she swung her right fist swiftly towards your face, but a quick shift of your head to the right managed to have her arm swing right into the air above your shoulder. You acted quickly, not giving her the chance to recoil her arm or regain her stance, and delivered a harsh uppercut to the underside of her jaw with your idle right hand.

She stumbled backwards in a mixture of shock and slight pain. She had to admit, the late night training the two of you had been partaking in for the past few weeks was starting to pay off. Your uppercut was stronger than it had ever been, and a dull aching pain spread rapidly through her whole jaw, rocking her usually tense form ever so slightly. She brought her left hand up to rub her jaw, trying to sooth the pain as she winced.

“Impressive.” She muttered through her clenched teeth. Outwardly, she seemed annoyed, but inside, she was pleased at your performance. “You’re improving Y/n. Sooner or later, I might have to start to actually try against you.”

You chuckled nervously, reminded of how many levels above you Annie was. Still, a spur of confidence surged through you at the successful hit, and you raised your hands once again. You let out a satisfied huff.

“Well then, let’s see it!” You smiled confidently, high off of the delusion that you could possibly beat Annie’s master level combat skills.

You charged at her more recklessly this time, and reused your previous uppercut in attempt to catch her off guard once again. In response, she arched her back, tilting her head away from your fist effortlessly. Before you even had the time to acknowledge that you had missed, her left hand struck your stomach fiercely, and as you buckled over in pain, she placed her hands on the back of your head, and drove your face to her kneecap unrestrained.

You sunk down into a heap onto the dirt, clutching at your stomach in pain. You coughed dryly, trying to regain the breath that had just been knocked out of your chest oh so mercifully.

“O-Owww... That was... A little rough, Annie...” You choked out between pants.

“Well, you seemed confident. I needed to knock you down a peg.” She stared at you, unamused.

She waited a moment for you to stand up so the two of you could resume training, but you stayed hunched over on the dirt as crimson started to drip slowly from your nose. The small whimper of pain that left your lips ignited a twinge of sympathy in the girl, and she knelt down next to you to grab your hands and cautiously lift you up.

Her attention shifted to the blood that leaked from your nose, and she averted her eyes. It was training, you were bound to get hurt no matter what, but that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty over your minor injury.

She walked over to the small pile of towels she had set aside, originally there in case one or both of you got too sweaty and needed a break. She picked up one from the top of the pile and brought it to your nose to try and prevent the blood from leaving stains on your clothes. After all, you only had so many shirts, and they were seldom washed to remove stains.

“Maybe I was a little rough there... sorry...” She murmured, embarrassed at how soft the whole situation was making her feel.

An adorable giggle left your lips, and Annie looked at you in confusion. What is she laughing about? What’s so funny?

Her look of confusion didn’t help you keep your composure, as you started full blown laughing.

“Y/n??” Annie asked, accidentally bringing the towel away from your face. “What it is??”

Your laughter died down, and after letting out one final chuckle, you spoke up. “You’re just really cute, especially when you’re worried.”

She blushed at that, still not used to the verbal affection that you were so fond of giving her.

Flustered, she tilted her head down to rest her head longingly on your shoulder. You grinned once again as you felt a gentle smile curve upwards on her lips.

“Take it back...” Her voice faltered. She was deeply conflicted between accepting the compliment or insisting that she wasn’t cute.

You only chuckled once again. Her inability to think of anything to do in response to affection was even cuter.

You grabbed her wrist, and brought it up to your face. You started gently and endearingly ghosting kisses along her skin, starting at the wrist and moving wordlessly up her arm. You stopped for a moment though, just to hug her arm into your chest lovingly.

“I love you Annie...”

“...”

“I love you too...”

*CRASH*

Cold. That’s all it felt like. Cold.

Something was... wrong... very wrong... but she couldn’t place her finger on what.

Her eyes peeled open slowly, and the first coherent thought she would have after four years started to form in her mind.

Oh... I’m on the floor...

She sat up slowly, her tense joints and muscles refusing to give her an easy time of it. Once she stood up on her unsteady, almost shaky legs, she stretched, surveying the room around her.

Small fragments of icy crystalline shards lay scattered at her feet. It took one bewildered look behind her for her scatterbrained mind to form together an understanding of what was going on.

I... I’m free from the crystal...? Why?

She glanced around, confused and desperate for any indication of why she was free. There were no MPs in the room, nor any scouts or Marleyan soldiers. Clearly, no one was intentionally trying to set her free.

After assessing the situation to ease her mind a little, she shuffled backwards and slid down the wall, taking a deep, full breath for the first time in years. The air felt great, she had to admit, and being able to move once again was certainly freeing. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head in her arms tranquilly. She loved feeling free once again, but she felt her heart tug, as it was yearning for something... or someone.

Her head perked up abruptly, a memory flashing through her brain. She was training with you... her girlfriend.

It had been four years since she’d seen you... she wondered what you would look like now. Had you been having fun with everyone? Did you find out the truth and escape the walls?

An anxious thought ruthlessly tore it’s way through Annie’s brain. Did something happen to you? Did you take your final breaths cold and alone while she slept like a baby in the stupid crystal? Were you devoured by a titan that her own nation sent to kill you? Did you... die hating her?

She stood up abruptly, swinging her leg back and kicking a shard of crystal across the room and letting out a huff through her clenched. Surely not. She’s an extremely strong soldier. I know her better than anyone else would. Nothing could have happened to her...

But, still, a seed of worry had already planted itself in her stomach. Still, she just had to see you again. Not only did she need to make sure that you were unharmed by this senselessness, but just to see you once more. She couldn’t care less what become of her, especially now that she had escaped. She wanted to treasure one more conversation with her lover, and to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you. God, she was missing those little things so bad right now.

Her mind shifted to the first step towards seeing you- getting out of this shitty dungeon. The wooden door was unlocked and unguarded, at least from this side. She took quiet, strategic steps towards the door, and creaked open the door gently, as to not alert anyone outside of her presence.

A lone guard stood with their back turned to the door. One look at the short and wavy cream colored locks and she was easily identified as Hitch, her old MP roommate.

She made a quick dash, stopping behind the unaware girl and placing one hand over her mouth to prevent her from making any noise, and the other arm was wrapped tightly over Hitch’s neck. She felt the girl tense up considerably out fear in her grasp.

“Take me to the Scouts.”

---

Within the day, she had arrived at the current residence of Scouts. She had convinced some of the higher up MPs to let her see them, with much pleading of course, and on the promise that she would do absolutely no harm, and she would be under MP supervision the whole time.

She walked along the worn dirt path quickly, an MP standing to either side of her, holding both of her arms as to prevent any chance of Annie attacking. She stepped right in front of the door, and her heart filled with both excitement and anxiousness as she thought about her lover, who was most likely waiting on the other side.

An MP dully knocked on the door, and a disgruntled Levi answered.

“Military Police? What are you doing here?” He asked, unamused at the sudden presence of guests.

Peering over his shoulder from inside, Armin’s eyes widened as he recognized the anxious girl in the doorway. “Annie? What are you doing here? Why are you out of your crystal??” He started to jog to the front door, standing next to a confused Levi.

“You know her?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, from our cadet years. She didn’t join the Scouts though.” His gaze shifted from Levi’s eyes to the floor, an unreadable expression painting his face. “She’s also a Marleyan Warrior.”

Annie’s eyes widened at the mention of the Warrior Program. Of course they found out...

Levi turned around to head back inside, deciding this was none of his business. “Take care of it Armin.” He let out a small chuckle before continuing. “I thought we were getting arrested again.”

Armin’s eyes followed Levi as he walked away, but he turned back to face the MPs and Annie once again. She admired him for a moment. He seemed more mature now, but at the same time, it seemed some of the childish wonder had left his eyes in place of a more hopeless, dead look in his eyes. Such was to be expected of a soldier long at war.

“What are you doing here?” Arming questioned, staring at Annie.

“I... uh...” It wasn’t until now that she considered that admitting the only reason she was here was her lovesickness would be a little embarrassing, but she had to explain. Still, she altered her motives just a little bit so she wouldn’t seem so hopelessly devoted to you. “I broke out of the crystal... somehow... and I just wanted to visit you all one more time.” Even if she wasn’t directly speaking about you, admitting that she missed any of the people from her cadet days made her fluster up a little bit.

Armin stepped out of the way, beckoning her and the MPs to come inside. She stepped inside curiously, gazing at the inside of the building. It doesn’t seem half bad in here...

The MPs followed her cautiously, and still held both of her arms securely behind her back. Armin saw this, and motioned with his hand for them to let go, before speaking calmly.

“She’s not a threat, you can release her.”

The MPs loosened their grip on Annie, allowing her arms to fall comfortably at their sides. The two officers stepped back and against the wall, deciding to stay there to observe the situation.

Annie took the time to gaze around at the soldiers surrounding her. People looked on at her with many emotions. Some were indifferent, since they didn’t know her, but many were weary of her Warrior status, and a select few stared at her with pity-filled expressions. She continued to look to see if she recognized anyone in the crowd. Most faces were unfamiliar, but certain people stood out to her from her memories. Mikasa, Eren, Connie, Jean, Sasha... she glanced around, searching for the faces of her old comrades, but more so, she was looking for you.

“Everyone has changed a lot, haven’t they?” Armin sighed, looking at the ground with a look of sad nostalgia.

After a few more seconds of searching, she failed to find your beautiful e/c eyes anywhere in the room, and the seed of worry in the pit of her stomach began to grow, her palms growing clammy with anxiety.

“Where is Y/n?” She spat out abruptly, worry evident in her voice. She couldn’t bear any small talk at this point, she just desperately wanted to see where you were.

Her eyes widened as she looked back to Armin. His mournful expression by itself answered her question clearly, but she refused to pay any attention to it.

She gazed around at the others in the room desperately. Everyone from the 104th Cadet Corps (in other words, everyone that knew about the Annie’s relationship with the h/c haired girl) had the same expression.

Their faces were all laced with the same emotion.

Pity.

The kind of pity that you see when a neighbor has to tell the little kid down the street that the family puppy got hit by a car, or the kind of pity that you have when somebody gets their life’s work stolen from them, or, in this case, the kind of pity where you are forced to tell a distraught individual that their lover died at war. That kind of pity.

She didn’t want to believe it. No, she couldn’t believe it.

She couldn’t be bothered to close her slacked jaw, or to hide the distress on her face as she waits for the possibility that she was reading the room wrong.

Armin looked to his side, averting his eyes. He truly couldn’t find it in his heart to answer the question.

It wasn’t until the distinct clacking of boots on the hardwood floor started to approach her that she snapped out of her trance.

The person approached Annie slowly, but calmly, and Annie took a moment to scan her face. The stranger was decorated with a Scout badge on her shoulder, and a shiny medal hung from their neck. They had auburn/brown hair that was tucked into a loose ponytail behind their head, and an eyepatch covering their left eye.

The person had a sorrowful look as they grabbed Annie’s limp hand and encased it in their own.

“I am Hange Zoe, commander of the Scouts.” They said courteously. They bowed her head in mourning and respect as she continued on. “It’s my displeasure to have to inform you of this, but during a semi-recent mission to the city of Liberio, Y/n was shot and killed by a Marleyan.”

All of the sudden, everything stopped.

No sound, no motion, no nothing. It had just... frozen.

She had a feeling that the person in front of her was still talking, based on the fact that their lips were still moving, but she couldn’t hear them. She couldn’t hear anything. All that enveloped her ears was ringing. Painful, painful ringing.

She had stopped shaking, and she was certain her hand had gone cold in the other person’s grasp.

She didn’t understand it at all.

“How...” A barely audible whisper ghosted from her lips, and Hange’s word stopped in their throat. “How did this happen?” She grit her teeth and spoke out shaky words of disbelief. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. “How did someone like her... die...?” The last word of her sentence was so light in volume, yet so heavy in emotion. It’s almost as if the blonde girl couldn’t even comprehend the word itself.

“It was a warrior candidate.” Someone spoke from the other side of the room, and both Annie and Hange turned to look. The speaker leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a scowl adorning his features.

“Floch, now isn’t the time-” Hange quietly tried to coax the man into shutting up and letting Annie grieve, but he continued to speak.

“That little bitch- she climbed aboard the ship using stolen ODM gear, took a gun, and shot into the crowd of soldiers blindly. Hit Y/n in the chest, she dropped to the ground in seconds.” He continued to explain so nonchalantly, as if the death of a comrade was just another casualty in his eyes. His calmness made Annie want to knock him out cold, but she wanted him to finish. She desperately needed to know.

“We beat the shit out of her for a minute- her and some other little blonde kid. They’re in holding cells downstairs as we speak.” Annie’s eyes widened as she thought about her girlfriend’s killer residing in the same exact building as her. Dark thoughts of violence flashed through her mind as she imagined all the things she would do to the murderer if she just got a chance. All she needed was a few minutes.

“I wasn’t with her when she died, but Mikasa, Armin, and Connie were. I think her last words were directed to you, but I don’t remember what she said.” He folded his arms and looked away, a subtle indication that he had finished speaking.

The room was still with tense, stagnant air. No one moved, nor spoke. Annie tried desperately to gather her thoughts, to try and think rationally about all of this- but she couldn’t. Rage and sorrow flooded her mind, and any other thoughts were just a blur. She was going to go confront this person. No, she swore, she was going to kill her.

Taking advantage of the stagnant environment (and the MPs questionable devotion to their guard duties) Annie made a mad dash towards the hallway.

The tears were rolling down her cheeks unrestrained now, and she made no effort to wipe them away. Normally, she would never let anyone see her this emotional. Well, no one other than you, of course.

She ran to the end of the hallway, and found the staircase that led to where the supposed murderer was- the basement. She swore she could hear chaos filled yells from behind her, but she couldn’t pick out if they were directed to her or this “Floch” guy, and frankly, she didn’t care.

She rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping because of how hurried she was, and reached the only jail cell that remained locked.

Gazing through the bars, she was met with two figures, both sitting slumped on the beds. One had short blonde hair, with a lost and confused look in his eyes, while the other had the same auburn hair as Hange, alongside chestnut colored eyes that were swelled over in rage. They looked battered and filthy, but that was to be expected of any prisoner of the Scout Regiment.

Still, their faces ignited a twinge of sympathy in Annie’s bruised heart. They were the faces of children. Lost, confused- they hadn’t began to even sort the world out. They still had lives to live, so much opportunity ahead of them. Opportunity that was not to be found in the Warrior Program.

Regardless, nothing could stop her from getting to that child on the other side of the bars. The anger in her eyes would easily single her out as the guilty party. No one with kind eyes, like the blonde boy’s, could have done this.

The children gazed upon her, mostly with confusion, but also a mix of fear and apprehension. Despite her relatively small size, she could look pretty damn intimidating when she was pissed.

A swift, but strong kick hit the ancient rusty lock, and it snapped open easily. The forced of the kick cause the door to swing wide open, and no longer did anything separate her from the monster that just crumbled her world from all around her.

Dangerously slow steps approached the girl as she gazed on with both fear and aggressive apprehension. The blonde boy could do nothing but watch bewilderedly.

“You...” A low whisper escaped Annie’s throat, like the shriek of a ghost trying to breach the worlds between the living and the dead.

She stopped walking when she reached the bed, and she gazed at the floor silently. She wondered if this was the sympathy that lay locked in her heart. She couldn’t say she didn’t understand the girl, after all, Annie was a warrior candidate once too. She knew what it was like, the desperation to get picked and become an honorary Marleyan, and to not disappoint your family- she got it. It led you to do a lot of things, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for anyone caught up in the twisted program, especially since she was only a child, twelve at most.

The flicker of empathy that burned quietly in her chest was quickly snuffed out, however, as images of your bleeding form crying out for her, alone and in pain, floated in her mind tauntingly.

She grabbed her right arm with her other hand, and let out hushed breath, before leaning her head back and bursting into hysterical, almost maniacal, laughter.

None of this was fair at all. Why did she lose you? Why did you have to die? Why you? Why? Why why why why why why-

“WHY?!” She suddenly screamed, tugging on the front of the girl’s shirt and throwing her across the room carelessly, adrenaline flowing through her and giving her all the strength she needed.

The girl collided with the wall with a thud, and fell into a heap on the floor with a yelp. But, Annie wasn’t done. She marched over and picked up the girl by the collar and slowly raised her off of the ground. She held her against the wall with fury in her eyes, and the girl winced in pain as her feet lifted from the floor and kicked helplessly into the air.

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT?!” Annie screamed, her eyes wide with trauma and lips frozen in a broken frown. “WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HER, DAMMIT?! DID YOU EVER THINK BEFORE YOU CHOSE TO KILL SOMEONE?! WHAT THEY MIGHT MEAN TO SOMEONE?!”

Annie vigorously shook the terrified girl, trying desperately to get some sort of point across. Any point was lost in the translation of anger and grief, however. But for now, scaring the shit out of this girl would have to do.

“Dammit...” The tears that had been held back for so long started to flow once again. All she saw was you... your smile, your laugh, everything about you was just so perfect. She yearned to see you just one more time, and to have one final conversation with you.

“Dammit! Don’t you understand?! I was going to spend the rest of my fucking life with that girl! We were gonna get married and settle down and live a normal fucking life! That’s all I ever wanted! I was supposed to be there for her through everything, and you let her die cold and alone because of what?! What did you gain out of this?! Do you feel proud?! Satisfied?! Do you enjoy the blood on your hands?!”

Her hands stilled around the stiff fabric of the shirt that she still clenched in her hands. The girl had giving up on clawing Annie’s grip from her- Annie wouldn’t let go.

A final, lowly chuckle left her lips, her hands slowly relaxed, and the girl slowly slid down the wall, and her feet connected with the ground at last, but the girl didn’t run away. She could, if she truly wanted to, but she stayed there in the blonde girl’s grip. Perhaps guilt, or perhaps fear. Annie couldn’t tell, of course. Her vision was too blurry from tears to make out facial expressions.

Sobs started to wrack Annie’s body as she struggled to keep her composure, and one of her hands left the worn shirt to instead go up to her mouth, covering her mouth as she started to breakdown further into grief.

“I... I loved her...” She chocked out quietly. “I loved her so much... and now... I’ll never get to... see her again.” Her other hand finally let go of the cloth, and she leaned that arm against the wall for support as she leaned her trembling body onto it, her forehead meeting the cold stone.

The final realization of her lover’s death hit her like a brick as her sobs wrecked helplessly through her body, and she shut her eyes in mourning, or perhaps to pretend that nothing had even changed at all...

“I... I miss her...”

She stood there for a moment, and although she could feel the gazes of the two children on her, she didn’t care. She stood there in silence, crying silently in vain for her lover to return to her.

After what felt like hours, a gentle hand placed itself upon Annie’s shoulder. She turned around hesitantly, and was met with Armin’s saddened gaze.

“Annie, I...” He averted his eyes and gazed at the two children still inside the cell, as well as Mikasa, Connie, and Jean, who all appeared silently in front of the open prison door. “I think it’s time to go.”

---

“Her last words?” Connie questioned sorrowfully.

“Yes.” Annie leaned her back against the stone grave and gazed into the moon as it began to rise elegantly over the horizon. “What did she say?”

“Well...” His eyes darkened as he slowly started to recount the events that unfolded that day.

“When she was first shot... and I ran to her side to try and talk to her, and see how bad it was. She said your name, Annie. I thought it was a little strange at first, until she cupped my cheek and smiled at me. She lost a lot of blood, and fast, so I figure that she may have been hallucinating, and thought I was you for some reason.” He chuckled painfully at that, conflicted on whether to be sorrowful or nostalgic about that moment.

“I was screaming at her to hold on until we arrived at the island, but there was just too much bleeding. There was nothing that we could do. But, she told me something else right before she died...”

“Hey, Annie... Don’t be sad, okay? I promise you... w-we... will meet again sometime. Maybe another life, or in heaven... I don’t really care. I don’t really want you to forget me, but... let me go. You have your own life to live, even if mine ends... here. This is a senseless war anyways. But... if even just my sacrifice... can slowly bring... c-closure to all this fighting... than it’ll have been worth it, I promise you. So, in that regard, I don’t regret anything. Just... stay strong for me, Annie... I l-love you...”

Connie finished speaking, and turned his back away from Annie respectfully as the tears started to fall yet again.

“Try not to get too cold out here...” He stated bluntly before leaving.

After a few minutes, and she was sure he and anyone else was gone, she slowly shifted to lay right underneath the tombstone. The moon now shone brightly upon her, and reflected beautifully against the grave stone. She didn’t figure that this was how she would be spending her night with you, but she felt a least a little solace in being alone with you again, under the vast, unaware stars that freckled the night’s sky above.

Her mind having finally been cleared, she came up with a conclusion that she was honestly ashamed for not reaching earlier.

This was a senseless war. A war where everyone is a victim. It wasn’t Annie’s fault, nor was it yours, or Eren’s, or even Gabi’s- as she had soon learned was the girl’s name. All this fighting amounted to nothing but bloodshed and loss.

She peered around her surroundings, and pondered if every solemn gravestone belonged to someone who was loved in the same way that she loved you. She stopped to wonder, as well, about all the Scouts she had murdered during that time as the female titan. She thought back to Marco, as well. All of it was pointless. Every single person meant something to someone, and she was so cruel for ripping that away. This stupid war- she should say- is cruel for ripping it away.

War never felt so cruel until it affected her like this.

It was like your final conversation that she could ever have with you, one that she would have from beyond your grave. A conversation of ideas, and of hope for a future without bloodshed.

Truly, the reality of it started to set it. Even without you, she would do all she could to stop the bloodshed. It meant sacrifices. Sacrifices, most notably, like you. She would’ve given anything for you to be at her side- to end this conflict with her, but she sighed as she figured that it just wasn’t meant to be that way. Your death wasn’t in vain, though, as it helped her understand.

With or without you, she would fight to end this war, no matter the costs.

WHY IS THIS SO LONG HOLY-

i did this instead of maintaining a consistent posting schedule...

Still, I hope you don’t mind how unusually long and detailed this is, I may have gotten a little hooked on the prompt.

Hope you enjoyed it, after all that effort lmaooo

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot imagines #snk imagines #annie leonhart #annie leonhart x reader #angst

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Injured Part 2

@canigetanamenforbritney here you go!

Part 1

Warnings: hospital setting, refusal of medical attention, pet names, surgery, negative discussions of someone, stitches, descriptions of medical care, painful wound tending, exhaustion, begging, mean caretakers

*not edited*

"He needs surgery."

"Yeah, yeah I get that. That's not the problem. The problem is, you won't perform it."

"We aren't about to waste supplies on a villain, Hero."

Villain fumbled with consciousness- played with, frolicked with it- until it because a drifting manner. Awake here and there, hearing bits and pieces of conversation. Then the blissful euphoria of sleep. Those moments of painfree unconsciousness were what he longed for, craved.

He didn't understand his situation. He knew that there were people around him, but they didn't seem to be doing much. Only periodically pinching his elbow, leaving him floating in serene waves.

Was this what care felt like? It didn't seem like much, maybe Villain just had an active imagination- dreaming about endless words of compassion, a light touch to his cheek... maybe those sensations were just fantasies.

The people... they seemed to speak above Villain in rumbling tunes. Never aimed at him and even in his foggy state he knew that they were strictly clinical.

It was, to say the least, disappointing.

Very disappointing.

Maybe he did just expect too much.

《~~》

Hero paced around the hospital bed as the nurses argued amongst themselves. Villain was stable, but not faraway from slipping. Why did she have to do this to him? A dagger in his side, concussion, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder... the injuries went on above this.

And then the fact that he was doomed to actually take care of himself in this state? The very idea that Hero expected him to jump back on his feet- it was disgusting.

How could she be a hero when she allowed someone to suffer?

She saw the trails of blood, the discarded bandages, the opened cupboards. He struggled. Struggle to stay alive.

"We could get fired if we operate on him. Honestly, just hand him over to the center."

"What is wrong with you!" Hero exclaimed when she heard that utterance. "A life for a job."

"You beat him up," that same nurse pointed out, crossing her arms. "Stop your hypocrisy, you are not better than us."

"Yeah if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be here," another chimed in.

"Shut up! Shut up! All of you, shut up!" Hero growled. "I will pay for the surgery and take full responsibility. If he doesn't die, he will be permanently disabled."

"We know."

"Yeah I know you know," Hero said, huffing and giving an awkward smile. "You know and yet you still don't do anything about it. What kind of sick doctor are you?"

"One that follows the law."

Hero was silent and thrusted her hands through her blonde hair.

"It's nothing against Villain-"

"Yes it is!" Hero roared and flung herself next to Villain's side. His eyes were halfway open. Hero sighed, "Should I give him another dose?"

"No," the head nurse said. "Let him wake up."

Hero waited and waited, foot tapping and teeth clenching in anger, as Villain became more and more accustomed to his surroundings.

"H-hero?" He croaked, nervous fear evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Mm care... caring f-for for me?"

"Trying to."

Villain groaned and threw his head back suddenly, pain gripping every one of his features. Tears formed in his eyes and as sudden as the outburst happened, he stilled and collapsed back onto the bed.

《~~》

Everything hurt.

The drugs must've worn off, inviting the pain to eat him whole. Villain groaned and tossed his head about, punching the mattress with clenched fists even though that hurt and...

Villain cried out. Even Hero stepped away from that primitive noise.

Why was he is pain? Why did he have to go through this?

Because I am a villain, he answered himself. Stupid stupid stupid! He shouldn't have delved into the evil side of the world, should've applied for the College of Heroics or be a normal civilian or anything other than villainy.

He cried, his chest shuddering. Small squeaks escaped his mouth. Even the boisterous nurses ceased their banter, looking in pity at the sobbing human on the hospital bed.

"We'll operate, but we won't give him anesthesia," the head nurse conceded.

《~~》

That was good.

Not ideal, but good.

Hero helped slide on a blue hair net over Villain's head. Wild eyes darted around, creasing at the edges every once in a while, as the pain flared up in many places all at once. His breathing hitched as well.

"What are they doing to me?" Villain wheezed, fingers tapping. Anticipation etched at his body.

"You'll be fine," the hero soothed, rubbing her fingers together. After the surgery...

"Cuff him," one of the nurses ordered, wrapping Villain's wrists and ankles with soft, padded bracelets of leather. He stiffened before instinctual motions kicked in and he struggled.

"Don't. Don't do that," Villain pleaded as he watched the nurses inhibit his only chance to fight and to escape. He gulped, pressing his head back into the hospital bed like his pain was forgotten. But the irregular heartbeat on the monitor betrayed his real sensations and emotions- pain and fear.

Hero frowned at the distressed face before looking up at the nurses.

"Should've we give him something? Like a muscle relaxant? Make the procedure easier?" Hero asked, but immediately wished she hadn't for the villain's face contorted into an expression of pure terror at the mention of "procedure".

"Maybe," one of the young nurses whispered, but the head nurse brushed the idea off with a firm "no".

"Let's begin," that same nurse said and approached the writhing villain. "Begin incision on his right side where we assumed a piece of residual metal is from the dagger."

"Let's not do this," Villain begged, pulling madly against the restraints, but the nurses did not pay attention.

Just as the sliver of metal was about to protrude into Villain's skin, Hero spoke up,

"Where is the doctor? You know, the one who actually does surgeries."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because you weren't trained for this."

"So?"

Hero was silent, but her gaping mouth spoke loads for her.

"Hero," the head nurse chuckled. "This is a villain. A half-eaten cheeseburger in the trashcan. Relax hon."

Hero bristled at the pet name, but didn't do anything rash. She just pulled up a chair and sat at Villain's side. He looked up at her with large, pleading eyes that broke Hero's heart.

"It'll be over soon," Hero promised. Villain's face relaxed slightly, but his muscles stayed tense in waiting for the inevitable pain.

"Begin incision."

Villain mewled as the thin knife slipped into his skin, right above the infected flesh. His toes and fingers curled in, then stretched out.

"Okay stop," Villain said in a hurried manner. His brow furrowed, nose twitching. "Stop."

Hero placed a hand on his shoulder, but it did nothing to quiet his protests.

"Located the residual. Tweezers."

A tool made of two grated prongs took the place of the knife. Villain sighed as the knife marked its leave with a clatter, but his muscles immediately seized when the bloodied particle was removed.

"Staples."

Villain's eyes widened as a nurse pulled his skin together, shoddily and lazily stapling it. Villain screamed, jerking around each time the plunger cinched his tender flesh together.

Hero wrinkled her nose. The nurses weren't even bothering to use actual medical tools. Literally, the stapler was from the school section at the local Walmart.

The nurses topped their kindergarten artwork with a thin line of some numbing ointment, but that was all. A tiny gift, a mug saying "The Best Teacher Award" on teacher appreciation day.

The next injury the nurses fixed was the dislocated shoulder. Two nurses positioned themselves on both sides of the shoulder. Without warning, they pushed the joint back in.

Villain arched his back up in a desperate feat to escape the miserable pain. He clenched his teeth, holding in a scream that Hero knew just wanted to go.

Then he fell back into the bed, breaths full of pained whimpers.

"Okay. I think we tortured him long enough," Hero said, angling herself to give a more authoritive stance.

"We are taking care of him?" The head nurse replied, purposely making her statement an authentic question.

"Just give him something. At least something to take the edge off," Hero pleaded. "Can't you see? His world is nothing but pain."

"No."

Hero sighed, shook her head, and went back to Villain who now had tears streaming out of half-lidded eyes.

"Make them stop," Villain whispered, not even looking at Hero. "I'd rather be hurt. Rather be hurt at home."

Hero felt a twinge of pity, listening to Villain's requests. It was saddening to say the least, someone so hurt just wanting to go home if it meant that they could escape the extra pain of care.

Pain of care, now that didn't sound right.

Hero grabbed Villain's head and stroked it, but the tears and whimpers did not cease.

After a good few hours, the villain was throughly exhausted. He could barely stay awake, just dozing off even as caffeinated nurses shakily sewed the millions of cuts together.

Hero slowly stroked Villain's head, watching as his eyes drifted shut. She smiled. Sleep was his only escape from the pain.

#villain whumpee #injured villain #hero caretaker #reluctant caretaker #heros and villains #whump #whumplr #writing #surgery

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samstree · 4 years ago

Text

Hug a Witcher Day (2/3)

In which Jaskier gets drunk and Geralt gets hurt. Hug a Witcher Day is coming around again, but so are certain feelings.

(hurt/comfort, geralt whump, soft jaskier, more yearning, 3k, rated T, blood and injury)

read on AO3

“No! Not Summer Solstice!” Jaskier shouts drunkenly to the lady approaching Geralt with open arms and then proceeds to use his own body as a shield to stop her advance, his footsteps unsteady. “Saovine! It’s the day before Saovine! I literally just performed the song five minutes ago so I don’t know why you guys keep coming at him. Today is not Hug a Witcher Day!”

Jaskier’s face is red as a beet. It’s no shock that he’s swaying considering the amount of wine he’s been consuming since the end of the set. She frowns at the bard like he’s crazy before muttering an apology.

“Jask.” Geralt holds onto Jaskier’s elbow just in case. He notices the tankard in the bard’s hand is empty again. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”

“But they—”

“I know and it’s all right. Just follow me,” Geralt explains, steering the bard away patiently. Arguing with the bard when he’s inebriated has never been wise.

The bard begrudgingly follows him to the side seats and plops down, smashing the empty cup on the wooden table.

“They—they got the date wrong. It’s not today.” Jaskier slurs in all seriousness to the witcher, his eyebrows still furrowed with residual anger.

“It is not,” Geralt takes the cup away from him, in case someone refills it and the bard will enter the even more bratty stage of drunkenness—or worse, the sappy stage. Geralt shudders at the memory of the Elder-speaking stage where Jaskier delivered an epic on top of a table. “I know it’s the wrong day, Jaskier, but you need to stop telling them off. You haven’t gotten paid for tonight.”

“What? Who wants to pay me for tonight?” Jaskier squawks indignantly, scrambling to pull his unbuttoned doublet together like a blushing maiden.

“Not tonight,” Geralt snorts, tilting his head towards the bustling party. “Tonight. The solstice celebration?”

The gears turn slowly but the bard eventually catches on, relaxing and folding his arms on the table.

“But everyone tried to hug you in the middle of the party.” Jaskier’s voice gets smaller and smaller in the din of the room. “It must be bad for your senses. You know, witcher senses…sensitive. People too grabby…bad.”

Geralt blinks, surprised at Jaskier’s concern. He hasn’t realized how crowded the hall is and how much noise is in the room. It’s a mixture of loud conversations and drunk giggling. Quite a few nobles did mistake the date in the song and come to throw their arms around him. It turns out being privileged also destroys all the shyness in one’s personality. It was…not uncomfortable until one woman’s hand traveled way lower to be considered proper.

He wasn’t going to fight her off—the lady being tipsy and old-aged and all, but that’s when the bard started to interject, blocking newcomers.

It was also when Jaskier started drinking.

Something warm swells in Geralt’s chest as he watches the bard drop his head on his forearms as if his neck can’t support the weight. Heavy-lidded blue eyes flutter shut for a second but he stubbornly reopens them.

“My thanks, for defending my honor.”

Geralt feels a languid smile tug at his lips, one that is slowly returned by the bard.

“Any day, my big strong witcher,” Jaskier says. “Especially the wrong day.”

The bard continues to shift his arms, trying to find a comfortable spot to pillow his chin, but the hard table is giving him trouble. He then notices the witcher sitting right next to him with a soft oh and, in one smooth move, takes Geralt’s arm and cushions it under his face.

It seems to satisfy him, hogging Geralt’s forearm and pressing his cheek over the sleeve. With a few nuzzles, Jaskier lets out a contented sigh and closes his eyes, leaving Geralt leaning forward awkwardly.

Although the witcher is strangely not in the mood to take his hand away, even when Jaskier is cutting off the circulation in his arm. A drunk bard is a force to be reckoned with. It will take some serious efforts to get him back to the inn—big strong witcher or not.

Just when Geralt thinks Jaskier has dozed off from the combination of post-performing exhaustion and too many cups of Toussaint wine, an incoherent murmur rumbles against Geralt’s skin.

“Can’t blame them—” Jaskier turns his head away, facing the other side, the warmth of his breaths ghosting over Geralt’s wrist. “—that they want to… but if I can’t…”

The bard trails off until the witcher can’t make out the words even with his enhanced hearing. Soft snores follow soon after.

Geralt shakes his head and scoots closer, just in case Jaskier needs more parts of him as pillows.

Autumn is around the corner before Geralt notices.

One moment the bard is complaining about the mid-summer heat and how the humidity is ruining his instrument, the next trees are already peppered with golden yellow.

The wyvern contract in a small village should be a quick and easy one. Only a scared newborn is spotted in the past month, possibly lost and lashing out. Geralt intends to time it perfectly so that he can finish it just a few days before Saovine, which means they’ll be on the road during the holiday, which means they will be alone on the day.

His day.

The whole conversation is thoroughly planned out in Geralt’s head, one that he’s certain will do the trick.

Isn’t today Hug a Witcher Day, Jask? Not getting it wrong this time, eh? Wait, there’s no one else on this empty open road. What a shame! After all, you are the one who invented the day. Wait, you want to give me a hug? Hmm, I don’t know… Fine, if you insist, but only because I don’t want you to break your own tradition.

He plays out those lines over and over again while entering what is rumored to be the baby wyvern’s nest with a smug grin on his face.

It’s fine to get a little excited. No one is here to see it anyway.

And the grin disappears when both wyvern parents emerge from the cave, prepared to protect the baby behind them.

Oh well.

When Geralt stumbles back to the inn with too many claw marks on his chest and blood soaking through his jerkin, he decides that the plan is shit from the start anyway.

Jaskier won’t hug him out of the blue. There’s always a reason if the bard touches him, like this moment, like when he rushes out of the door to meet Geralt and to put his uninjured arm around his shoulder. Like when he puts a hand at the small of Geralt’s back to keep him from stumbling. Like when he carefully steers Geralt into their room, settles him on a chair, and coos over the wounds with sweet nothings.

“I have to remove your shirt. It’s stuck with all the blood,” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s chin up so he can no longer see the mess all over his chest. Instead, blue fills his vision, wild and far-away, like the autumn sky. “Look at me, all right? Just focus on me, my dear. Don’t look down.”

He’s seen much worse on himself, but Geralt obliges anyway.

Lost in those cornflower blues, he almost doesn’t wince when Jaskier tears the fabric away.

“Sorry,” Jaskier whispers, but his movements never falter. “Just a moment longer.”

The burn of alcohol and the needle barely register in Geralt’s mind. All his senses are overwhelmed by Jaskier and the faint floral scent on his warm skin, the grounding touch of his palms, the soft apologies that slip through his lips, and then, the cold empty feeling of their absence.

Geralt lets out a small whine when Jaskier leaves him to retrieve the bandages, and it’s enough for the bard to fuss again.

“Shh, it’s okay. You are doing so well.” The bandages are wrapped firmly over the wound. Both of Jaskier’s hands reach behind Geralt to pass the roll and it brings him unbearably close.

Oh, it’s like Jaskier is hugging him.

For a split second, Jaskier’s face is almost pressed against Geralt’s collarbone, his hair ticking the side of his jaw. Those arms that he knows to be strong and thick are circling Geralt’s torso and squeezing gently.

He groans again when it ends.

But alas, it’s bound to end at some point. With his injury tended, there’s no need for Jaskier to keep showering him with touches and soft words.

Geralt doesn’t notice how Jaskier has the strength to put him in bed, the blood loss making the floor swim under his feet, but the mattress dips invitingly and Geralt finds himself cocooned by warm blankets.

Jaskier is still touching him.

“Comfortable?” Jaskier asks, his fingers carding through Geralt’s entangled hair soothingly and the urge of saying no is overwhelming.

No, not when your arms are not around me.

Geralt nods and a tired smile lights up Jaskier’s face. It’s a reserved one, mixed with relief and worry, and it’s so beautiful Geralt wishes he could cry at how it’s making his heart swell three sizes and filling up all the space in this chest. To think he’s the one who gets to see it almost makes up for not getting a hug from Jaskier.

Cold realization sinks in. He won’t get a hug from Jaskier on that day, because they’ll have to stay in town until at least Saovine.

Because he’s reckless enough to get injured like this.

His dismay must be showing on his face because Jaskier is fussing even more. “What is it? Is anything wrong, Geralt? Talk to me. What can I do?”

Jaskier’s brows furrow, his blue eyes wide with worry. Geralt desperately wants to soothe him, to catch the hand that is currently caressing his forehead, but all his strength seems sap.

Jaskier won’t hug him.

But it will be his day soon.

“Yes, your day,” Jaskier chuckles, and Geralt realizes belatedly that he’s said the last part out loud. “That godsdamned day. I never should have written that song. But let’s not think about it for now. You should rest.”

“No…” he croaks.

The regret in Jaskier’s voice is so wrong, so out of place that Geralt would do anything to banish it. He needs to tell Jaskier that he doesn’t mind the day. He needs Jaskier to know that a hug from him is all he can think about for the past year.

But none of those words gets out. The pull of sleep drags Geralt under despite his reluctance, the dark splotches filling his vision.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. Rest, my dear.” Jaskier’s soft coaxing is the last thing Geralt hears before slipping into oblivion.

In the land of dreams, Geralt feels arms circle around him, grounding him with the pleasant weight. A warm body is pressed against his side, curling up around his frame protectively. He leans into it, just to feel soft breathing against his skin.

He wishes that he doesn’t have to wake up.

Geralt starts the second Hug a Witcher Day sitting at the corner of another tavern.

On top of his witcher healing, days of rest have made sure those wounds from the wyverns are completely healed, but Jaskier seems to disagree. The bard is still hovering, insisting on fetching Geralt everything and helping him get around all the time.

Geralt would scold him for being over-dramatic if he wasn’t enjoying being the center of Jaskier’s attention so much.

“No! You sit tight,” Jaskier says, stoping Geralt from getting up with a hand on his shoulder. “I will get the juice for you. What would they think of me if I let an injured friend do chores?”

“Who’s they?” Geralt asks.

“Oh, you know.” Jaskier backs to the bar, gesturing vaguely into the air. “The…masses. The fans who know about the good-hearted nature of Master Jaskier and worship my music for the very reason.”

The bard bumps into an empty chair when he turns, and Geralt glares at him. Jaskier’s theatrics almost distract him enough to miss the commotion from the street.

Coming towards the tavern door are the footsteps of another witcher, the lightness of his feet on the cobblestone unmistakable.

Geralt is alert in an instant, prepared to call Jaskier back. There could be trouble if someone from another school passes town.

The rider is approaching the tavern but he’s stopped quite abruptly, and Geralt hears the most familiar and bratty scowl known to men.

“Oh, come on! This fucking day! No, I don’t hu—” Lambert lets out a groan as someone obviously pulls him into a hug. “—Urgh, fine!” The other person is thanking him profusely. “All right. You’re…welcome. Yes, it’s fine…”

Lambert’s tone softens as the man continues to chat after the hug, rambling about how a witcher with white hair just fought off three dangerous wyverns and how the locals will forever be in debt.

“Right, right. And pray tell, my good man, where can I find this witcher?” It sounds like Lambert is smiling as he asks and it’s the creepiest thing Geralt has ever heard. “And his bard is with him?”

It won’t take long for Lambert to locate the two of them. It might be best that Jaskier doesn’t face Lambert’s ire head-on.

“Jask,” Geralt calls out anyway. “Come back here.”

“Is there any trouble?” the bard puts two cups of grape juice on their table, and Geralt only sighs.

“Remember when I said you should avoid—”

“Geralt!” Lambert bursts into the door with a bang, startling all the patrons and the owner. Jaskier even jumps and spills juice all over the table. “Where is your bar—Oh, there you are, you bastard!”

The bard is already up and facing Lambert’s incoming anger, his body placed in front of Geralt. More than once Lambert has tackled both Jaskier and Geralt rudely to the ground upon seeing them on the road as greetings.

Geralt warms at the protectiveness of his bard, but he should really be worrying about himself on this.

“Lambert, wait, he’s still hurt!” Jaskier pleads, with both hands out to stop Lambert’s momentum and, against all odds, it works

Lambert stops in his track, inches away from the bard. “My business is only with you, bard. You and your damned songs!” A dangerous glint sparks in the youngest wolf’s golden eyes.

“What—"

Jaskier on the ground before he can finish the sentence and a sharp squeal erupts in the tavern. He’s soon reduced to a giggling mess under Lambert’s vicious attacks. Chaos ensues at what’s supposed to be the quiet corner of the tavern, and Geralt can only take a sip of his grape juice to hide his smile.

By the time Lambert decides he’s had enough revenge on the bard—mostly through tickles—both men scramble up from the ground disheveled and worked up. The owner of the place throws them a suspicious side-eye but remains silent.

“That’ll teach you a lesson,” Lambert grumbles while sitting down on Geralt’s bench.

“Noted. No more hugging songs.” The bard fixes his hair with careful fingers and ignores the other witcher. “It’s not like any of you showed any appreciation. For all the thanks you’re getting, none goes to the bard.” He tsks.

“I’m sure Geralt thanked you enough for all of us. Or has he not pulled his head out of his ass yet?”

Geralt stares at his brother and his grumpy remark, confused at the meaning, but Jaskier asks first.

“What do you mean?” the bard says with half a mind still focused on the curly fringe over his eyes that sticks out stubbornly despite his fussing.

The air between them suddenly tenses. A knot forms in Geralt’s stomach, an inexplicable dread rising in his throat.

Lambert’s expression turns to something equally inscrutable and amused, which is all the more unsettling. No matter how much of a prick the young wolf is, he’s never been unreadable to Geralt in the many decades they’ve known each other. He doesn’t appreciate the suggestive way Lambert winks at him when the bard isn’t looking either.

Geralt kicks his brother in the shin, the ‘one more word and I will kill you’ conveyed silently. Anything that comes out of his brother’s mouth next can’t be good, so he has to interject.

“I told Jaskier it was fine. The song. Stop being a prick.” Or mention it ever again, the gleam in his eyes warns.

“My, my. I see.” Lambert grumbles but uncharacteristically withholds comment.

Jaskier finally gives up on fixing his hair, frustrated. “Must you ruin my hair every time? Now I’m sure you two can behave while I order us more food?”

Now that Geralt is so close to Jaskier, watching him going up to the owner behind the bar and holding the most mundane conversation on this morning, the ache slowly returns.

He wonders if Jaskier wrote the song thinking about hugging him. After all, the bard is the most devout advocator for changing witchers’ image. He wonders if Jaskier would give him one if he asked.

They’ll have to be alone first.

And yet, when Jaskier comes back to the table, the owner is following behind. If the bard has ever been sheepish in his life, it would be this moment.

Lambert realizes his intention first.

“No more hugging,” he deadpans, nudging at Geralt’s ribs. “Once is enough. You take the rest of them.”

“The wyvern almost killed her husband.” Jaskier sounds a lot less confident than normal, hesitant even. “Please, Geralt? She just wants to thank you.”

The owner is a woman near her forties or fifties, her expression hopeful. Geralt stands up, opens his arms, and tries to make sure his smile is as friendly as possible. Putting people at ease has always been Jaskier’s strong suit, not his.

But her relieved smile brightens up her whole face after they share a simple hug, her steps lighter when she leaves.

“She told me that she was worried sick for him. Her husband.” Jaskier explains, fidgeting with his fingers like every time he does before an important performance or competition.

“Jaskier.”

“You know that song is not out of nowhere, right? Well, the line ‘hug a witcher for good harvest’ was made up, but… you do make a difference, Geralt. I wanted them to know all the ways you’re making the world safer, and the hearts a little less broken. Just like you did for her.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt stills the bard’s hands before his nails dig into his palm too deeply. “It’s all right, I understand.”

“You do?”

“I told you I’m fine with some strangers hugging me for a day,” Geralt chuckles, “Because I’m not doing it for—”

The words trail off. Beside him, Lambert is scooching over in the least subtle way and any words Geralt had a moment of bravery to voice instantly die in his throat. He releases Jaskier’s hand.

“Don’t stop on my account!” Lambert starts to drink from one of the cups of grape juice, slurping loudly. “You being a sap is disgustingly adorable. I want to see how it goes.”

The moment is ruined further when another man comes over asking for a hug and he’s not the only one. More people are noticing the day and two witchers and the bard sitting in the room, looking at their table expectantly.

Jaskier leans back, making room for more incoming townspeople.

It seems that Geralt will be busy hugging this year as well. He just doesn’t know if all these people can fill the Jaskier-shaped hole in his chest.

---

Should I end this story with hugs, kisses, or *wink* something more? Tell me what you think! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @birdsflyhome @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt/comfort #soft geralt #soft jaskier #geralt x dandelion #geralt and his feelings #hurt geralt #starring geralt and his feelings #jaskier #geralt #hugging #but still not with the bard :(

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years ago

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Ooo...can i please request Fem reader who have just been heartbroken by a one sided crush and then one day she met The Joker and he makes her forgot about her crush? Can be nsfw if u want 👀

Hello, anon! Ok so this is longer than I'd originally planned but I was having fun 😆 it’s a little story in the realm of a crackfic that I had a lot of fun with! I hope you like it!!

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, crackfic

Word count: 2,121

Warnings: light nsfw, mentions of mild violence

Summary: Sometimes people surprise you with what they'll do when their back is up against a wall, even the Joker.

Who?

It had to happen today, of all days. You went to grab a coffee this afternoon and what did you see? The man she knew you were obsessed with had his lips on hers. Right across the street from the café, your so-called friend was making out with the guy you’ve had a crush on for years.

He was back in Gotham on a business trip. His stay would have been shorter if it wasn’t for state of things in the city for the past couple of weeks. It seemed your friend decided it was an opportunity to swoop in before you’d gained the confidence to do it yourself. But the kicker is that he’d already agreed to meet you for dinner tomorrow night on top of it. Looks like he gets around. You all had gone to the same high school years ago and things apparently haven’t changed much. Aren’t you too old for games like this? You tried not to dwell on it, you had a job to do, but it’d been burning in your stomach like caustic acid for hours now.

You resisted the temptation to text her, tell her you saw them. No, if they want to play games, you could play your own. So far you hadn’t come up with anything but the old stand-by, the silent treatment. But this needed something bigger.

Your revenge plotting would have to wait, though. A minor injury out on patrol last month landed you a position in booking at MCU just in time for shit to hit the fan. Being a Gotham police officer was nothing like you’d expected it to be. You had your sights set on helping the disadvantaged, the people who couldn’t catch a break in this god forsaken city, who fell victim to loan sharks and got stuck in an endless cycle of debt to the inexplicably powerful Mob presence here. But the amount of red tape and corruption making that hopelessly impossible was enough to make you resent your decision in the first place. By now, you were one drug possession arrest away from never coming back.

Today, however, had taken an interesting turn. Your eyes were glued to the tv screen in the front office where live coverage of the SWAT team’s descent on the Pruitt building captured everyone’s attention. Some were optimistic about it, but most of the talk around MCU was skeptical. “If he’s gotten out of it before, he can do it again.”

But they got him. Back up teams raced out of the precinct and everyone scrambled with nervous excitement to carry out preparations for his arrival.

You weren’t here the last time the Joker had been brought in. You were off duty and you’d found yourself feeling a little jealous that you weren’t. He was all Gotham talked about, particularly around here. You weren’t sure how many times you’d seen his face by now. That face. There was something about the way he looked into the camera, it sent a tingle down your spine. It was a strange mixture of fear and fascination. It left you feeling conflicted, uneasy from the butterflies it stirred in your stomach, like you shouldn’t get this kind of excitement from it, a little spark of thrill you’d managed to keep suppressed.

But that spark was growing dangerously hotter now that you knew he’d be coming here, so soon, nonetheless. You had to keep your composure. The excitement was enough that you’d almost forgotten the betrayal you witnessed this afternoon… almost.

Your heart pounded as you approached the booking office, the sound of shouts and cheering echoing through the halls. What was he going to be like? Would he be angry? Was he going to take an officer hostage like last time? What if it ended up being you? You tried to take a deep breath, fighting the shaking of your hand as you reached for the door handle before carefully opening it.

You froze just past the doorway, letting it shut behind you. He was so… tall. He stood behind the intake desk, at least several inches taller than the SWAT officer removing the cuffs from his wrists behind his back. His expression was blank, casually watching the officers try to do their job while looking like their nerves were about to snap, avoiding touching him as much as they could.

“One move and I won’t hesitate to shoot you,” one officer said, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking.

The Joker didn’t say a word. He just flicked his tongue over his lip and lazily rolled his eyes. Butterflies fluttered into your throat and you fought to swallow them down. You had to try to relax, you can’t let him get to you. Of course, that’s easier said than done, his presence alone was enough to ignite an oddly alluring anxiety within you.

The awkward silence was broken when the on duty detective voiced his intolerance for that kind of behavior before noticing your arrival.

“Nice of you to join us, officer.”

All eyes landed on you, including his. You couldn’t breathe for a moment. That feeling that you got when you saw his picture was nothing compared to the intense wave of adrenaline that struck you like lightning, leaving you in a cold sweat as his eyes connected with yours.

You tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but you couldn’t hide the way color drained from your face as you slowly approached him. Just breathing took an immense amount of concentration. So much that you didn’t hear the detective giving you the case number to record before beginning the booking process.

“Officer! I’m speaking to you!”

You jumped and broke your gaze away from Joker’s dark rimmed eyes to quickly grab the form as the detective mumbled under his breath. Your hand was shaking again as you tried to breathe normally and recorded the number then in the next line, “Name, Unknown. Alias, The Joker.”

A shiver trickled its way down your back as you could feel eyes on you again and you looked up from the form to see him carefully watching you. Your breath hitched and you quickly tore your eyes away to stare at the form as heat bloomed in your cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. You’d been avoiding talking with anyone about him for weeks and no matter how much you denied it, now you knew why.

The other officers took his long purple coat and suit jacket off of his shoulders, removing a variety of knives from his clothing before turning him around to face you. You kept your eyes down, taking the cuffs from your belt to hold them in your hands, ready to place them on his wrists. A knot has tied itself around your insides and grew tighter the longer you stood there and stared at his hands, stained with traces of white, black, and red paint. Your face burned hotter, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your throat, but you had to try to remain calm. If you kept showing them how nervous you were, you’d be booted off of the case and another officer would take your place. This was pure torture, but you still didn’t want that to happen.

You were surprised by a need for more. He already had you trapped in this confusing push and pull to give in to the unusual attraction you had to him even though you knew it was wrong. It had taken you this long to realize that was it. A deep seated attraction had been sitting in the back of your mind and now it was rapidly taking over your body.

Goosebumps prickled your skin when your fingertips grazed his bare wrists, clicking the latch on the cuffs in place. This was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the rush in your veins, the heat in your stomach. You managed to keep the exhilaration spreading through your body from boiling over as you lead him to the line up wall for his intake photo.

He stood in front of the digital camera, holding the placard displaying his alias with the date and case number, his green hair swept hastily out of his face and infamous greasepaint smeared wildly. When you looked at the screen to capture the image, the knot in your belly unraveled. His gaze focused directly up into the camera lens and straight at yours, the corner of his scarred mouth tugging into a smirk. Your heart pounded in your ears and you could feel yourself shudder as rational thought slipped away, drowned out by a pervasive impulse. You knew he was dangerous, of course, and you couldn’t explain it but, you didn’t care. The fire he’d ignited within you was in control now.

A nervous buzz spread from your hands and down your arms before you looked up from the screen to meet his gaze, returning a subtle smile. Joker lifted his eyebrow and his grin stretched across his face until the other officers approached and he let it fall with a swipe of his tongue across his lip. That was all it took. You let those tempestuous flames engulf you and now you weren’t going to do anything to stop them.

Everything felt slowed down, like you were dreaming, feverish with this sudden and powerful desire when you kicked the door to the private search room open, pulling him inside with you and locking the door. You had precious few minutes before they’d find you. You quickly unlocked his handcuffs and spun around to put your back against the door, gripping the lapels of his vest when you stopped and stared up at his face as your stomach dropped. Why did you just do that?

But the feeling of regret didn’t last long. A low chuckle rumbled in Joker’s chest before he leaned on his hands, placed against the door on either side of you and brought his face inches from yours. Your breath huffed over his lips and the familiar feeling of arousal swelled between your legs as you felt his heat wash over you.

“Needed somewhere, uh, private to perform your search, officer?”

His lips hovered over yours as you smiled and answered softly, “I figured we’d start with the oral cavity search.”

His giggles were muffled when you crashed your lips into his, surrendering to the spontaneous and intense lust you found yourself swimming in. Your heart soared when he kissed you back, raising the intensity and allowing your tongue into his mouth as his hands moved to grip the sides of your face and your eyes fluttered closed.

He hummed when you wrapped your hands around his neck to lace your fingers in his hair and pressed your body against his. You could feel his size beneath the fabric of his pants and your breath hitched. This was one of those moments that didn’t feel like it was really happening, but it was. His hands slid down your sides to grip your waist and your mouths separated to catch your breath.

His eyes traveled up and down your body before another devious smile sent a shiver down your back.

“You. How about you come with me, hm?” he said, his eyes flickering to the gun in your belt.

Your stomach fluttered and you stared back at him, flinching when fists started pounding on the other side of the door and voices shouted. You shouldn’t trust him, you knew you shouldn’t. But trust hasn’t gotten you much in the past, has it? Besides, you didn’t have to trust him. Whatever happens is going to happen at this point so you might as well enjoy the ride. You’d already let it go this far. You swallowed your nerves and nodded, holding on tight to his shoulders.

Another chuckle made you bite your lip before he leaned in and purred in your ear, “Follow my lead, doll.”

You straddled his lap in the back of an unmarked van speeding down the street only moments later, his tongue in your mouth as your hands slid down his torso to the button on his pants. Was he always this lucky? Or did he know this would happen all along? Of course, this was a crazy thought but nothing that had happened today was sane. He held your own gun to your head and made his escape like it was planned that way. Either way, you’d easily forgotten all about the betrayal that felt so insignificant now.

In fact, tomorrow you’d receive a text from the traitor herself bragging to you about hooking up with your now former crush and your response, short and sweet, was “who?”

Taglist! @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen

#anon request #heath ledger joker #tdk joker #ledger!joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker fic #joker crackfic

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