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afreakingdork · 11 months

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Weak Spot - Chapter 21

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus

Synopsis: Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Week 1

You: Let’s see how this works?

You: Okay… I wasn’t sure if I was going to get an auto message each time one failed. It just notes it with a little red mark on the message itself. Not too bad.

You: You probably don’t care about that or already know.

You: These probably aren’t the first messages you wanted to read when you got back

You: I should have thought of something more poignant like…

You: It’s been one day and I miss you already

You: How was that?

You: I didn’t stand a chance against my roommate. She crashed into the bathroom this morning when I was trying to change my bandages saying she knew something was up. She was furious.

You: Not at you though!

You: The injuries read accident to her, like a car accident or something? Her voice was so loud. Stupid concussion is killing me. Hard to make sense

You: She made her point though. She was pissed I hid it from her which is fair.

You: You know you straight up said you were gonna tell me what happened. It was the classic I tell you, you tell me

You: And yet!

You: I still don’t know.

You: …

You: I don’t know

You: Work catered today, they want to start up weekly catering. I feel like this is one of those things where they’re going to give us a dumb perk so they can take something really messed up away

You: I saw a video where they were discussing supposed new and revolutionary tech. It doesn’t even come close to the few things I’ve seen of yours. Is it frustrating to know society is so far behind you?

You: So Kaleb has a cat now! He literally came home from work and there was just a cat in his apartment. He got her checked out and she wasn’t chipped. He’s still going to put out notices just in case, but she has already taken to sleeping on his stomach. He’s a goner

You: Her name is Graham Cracker

You: I found 20 bucks on the sidewalk today!

You: Seems lucky, but I’m sort of afraid of luck these days

You: Oh

You: I guess I never told you about that…

You: I haven’t seen those other stupid turtles

You: It doesn’t feel like I’m being watched

You: I feel like I would know, but I’m also not sure

You: Bored today, how about a play by play

You: Breakfast was these microwave mini quiches. It feels so fancy, but it takes a minute and the party sized box means I got food for more than a week!

You: There’s a lady walking and eating a bowl of chili at 834am. I want to know more about her life

You: One of my cubicle mates is coughing up a storm. I heard one of my co-workers ask why she won’t go home. She says she can rest better at work. No fine, just get the rest of us sick.

You: Lunch break! I tried making onigirazu after we had them from that shop, do you remember? They were so good. Mine taste okay, but look terrible. Eh.

You: I don’t usually succumb to the midafternoon slump, but lately I just don’t feel like I have much to look forward to.

You: Wait that sounds bad…

You: Moving on!

You: Freedom!

You: Ugh the whole apartment smells like beans, why has my roommate done this to me!?

You: She also like made dinner so I guess I can’t complain too much

You: Tastes good

You: I’m supposed to progress like business is usual

You: Go through my normal routine

You: Act like nothing happened

You: But something did happen

You: Sorry, I shouldn’t even write this.

You: Disregard

Week 2

You: Some of these packages are straight up unfair

You: Like it started out with cute little things like that monstera spoon

You: Which I’ve already used to strain veggies by the way!

You: But this sticker pack?

You: Like sure I mentioned this show meant a lot to me as a kid, but how did you know which character was my favorite?

You: There is no way you hacked anything to get that info!

You: Could you tell based on my other interests? Do you know me that well?

You: So… I’m not proud of this and full disclosure I went to your apartment last night

You: I guess it’s not your apartment anymore

You: It’s not like I could get in

You: I was sort of drunk and ended up there

You: I just wanted to see it

You: Everything is happening and it feels real

You: I go to work, I see my co-workers, we eat lunch, we do work, I commute home, I see my friends, I see my roommate, but it all feels so fucking hollow

You: Just

You: Anyway, Sheldon was pissed. He kept buzzing my gauntlet over and over

You: He won’t talk to me.

You: I mean obviously he wouldn’t I knew he wouldn’t he

You: You

You: Said he wouldn’t it jeopardizes the plan. He’s only supposed to be there to keep watch.

You: I never saw him, just that damn vibration

You: I left after that.

You: I have a major fucking headache so I guess I learned my lesson

You: I’m drinking water by the way

You: Like you care

You: Woof that looks bad the next day…

You: I was in a bad mood

You: I’m sorry

You: Will these messages make sense without the time stamps?

Week 3

You: Well?

You: Fuck

You: Stupid ocean of texts and shitty red marks

You: Feels like I failed a test

You: I knew there wasn’t a timeline, but in my mind there was

You: I had to count down to something

You: Three weeks made sense

You: Isn’t that like the meaning of a ‘few’ weeks?

You: I went to the art installation with a friend.

You: It was really cool

You: I took some pictures, but not as many as I said

You: Or I guess that wasn’t really an agreement.

You: We never really discussed how that would go

You: A lot of things left unsaid

You: I wonder what I keep expecting

You: Like are you going to show up when you come back?

You: Will I get a calendar invite?

You: Are you just going to respond?

You: Hi

You: Hey

You: Are you in town and your phone is off?

You: Will I even know when you get back?

You: I know you promised, but I don’t think you ever really got my side

You: Oh shit

You: What are you going to do? Stop me?

You: Fuck you

You: Your self worth sucks shit

You: Ha! You can’t say anything back!

You: Seriously what am I in comparison ?

You: I’m just some stupid human. I’m not special. I’m just living my life.

You: I don’t like think I’m ugly or anything. I’m alright. I’m me at the end of every day

You: But you?

You: Seriously fuck you

You: This sucks because I’m actually pumped I get to say what I’m about to say without your stupid emo interruptions but then

You: It just reminds me that you aren’t here

You: Nope not gonna be sad!

You: Anyway

You: Then there’s you.

You: You’re caring. You’re interesting. You’re mysterious. You put on airs like nothing matters when things matter way too much. Plus you’re gorgeous. You’re strong. You’re cut out of fucking marble. You’re a literal walking sculpture. You’re smart. You’re so smart it's actually stupid AND you’re a great lay which is literally unfair to existence. You shouldn’t be all those things

You: Like share with the rest of us!

You: Why the fuck would you come back to me?

You: What could I possibly offer in comparison to that?

You: You should be with the prettiest model genius the world has ever seen

You: Why

You: Should you come back

You: It doesn’t make sense.

Week 4

You: I think I was given too much time to think

Kicking your door open, you stared into your apartment.

It was empty.

You knew that for a fact.

Your roommate had left that very morning to go see her parents for their anniversary.

You were stuck alone.

What a pathetic Friday night.

What else was new?

Crossing the threshold you simply let your coat fall on the floor along with your bag and other useless requirements that validated your existence. There had also been another package. It rolled uselessly out from your things and over to the two others that you had yet to open from this week. Ignoring them as you had been, you threw a foot back. The door slammed shut from it and, with a flick of the wrist, you locked it.

“Welcome home to the sad life of those left waiting!”

You don’t know why you were being so dramatic today.

Trudging away from the pile, you tread towards the kitchen. You weren’t really hungry, but you’d barely picked at your lunch. Fridays had become a testament to capitalistic arrogance as they were days free of meetings and barely filled with work. Still, refusal to adopt some kind of hippie foreign policy kept the higher ups from making the smarter decision to commit to a four day work week. If they had finally exercised some sense, maybe you could have waited until Monday for your reprimand.

It’s not like you meant to send out the work up to the client with an oxford comma.

By all accounts, it was necessary.

Who has a vendetta against a tiny pen flick anyway?

Wandering away from the counter you had approached for no reason, you changed course for the fridge. Light poured from the empty shelves as your roommate had strategically laid out her groceries so she could stuff the thing with party leftovers when she got back.

You, on the other hand, just hadn’t had the sense to shop.

Why do so when you were out almost every other night?

What was left in the cold storage was sauces and not even the most basic building blocks of a meal. Sighing, you switched to the freezer where there was mostly frost bitten ice cream and a box that was far too large for the amount of pretzels it contained. It would do, but lacked some form of protein you probably needed. Flicking up the edge of some pita that definitely needed to be tossed, you glimpsed a box. Pulling it out, it was some discounted freezer meal you had grabbed in case of emergency. Staring at it, you stepped away enough that the door closed.

You could always order in.

Looking out indifferently, your wallet said otherwise. You were due to get paid Monday and you’d been stretching yourself thin in an incessant need to leave the house.

Avoiding one’s thoughts didn’t need to be so damn expensive.

Giving up, you turned and made the few steps toward the microwave. You only sort of gleaned the instructions before reaching for the device’s handle. Your sleeve lifted and there was a peak of your gauntlet underneath it. You quickly slapped the food in and slammed the microwave closed. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s silence had been deafening. He wasn’t supposed to respond, you knew that, but that didn’t keep you from whispering to him in the middle of the night.

You were such a fucking burden.

Turning away from the ticking dial, you headed towards your abandoned things.

Your phone was in there.

The device had been essentially glued to your hand for three straight weeks. It was only in the last few days that you couldn’t bear to look at it. It was the same case with the unopened packages.

Waiting had made you bitter.

Waiting had driven you out in an endless crawl of the city.

Waiting drained your wallet and mind.

You were still waiting.

The microwave beeped in time. Hobbling over to it, you did some stirring and put it right back in for its final rotations. It already paled in comparison to its poster package counterpart, but it only needed to be palatable.

As did everything else.

Walking away again, you headed towards the couch and avoided sitting to hover in front of the TV with the remote. You flipped over to a movie you had heard your gossipy coworker raving about and set it right at its opening studio notes. A completed beep sounded and you went to retrieve your sad looking dinner. It was far too hot and you let it burn the countertop as you got a drink. You then balanced it on scorched fingertips back to the couch before hitting play. You sank down into the cushions before you realized you’d forgotten a utensil. Groaning at the prospect, you left the movie playing as you got a fork. On the way back, you bumped your drink as you sat and barely saved it from a tumble to the floor. In retribution for preventing its freedom, it sloshed onto your pants and you simply stared at the stain before giving up to grab your food.

Dialog had started as you scooped a bite into your mouth. You immediately scrunched up and chewed as if you were forced to. The texture was wrong and the flavor seemingly took on the mealy quality in a way you couldn’t describe. Thinking only that this was the reason it had been discounted, you ate more out of sheer necessity. With a few calories down, you abandoned the meal to watch the movie. It seemed to be something about a match of two close friends whose quirks led them to really only understanding one another. You were curious what had gotten your coworker riled up when a diagnosis occurred.

Suddenly trapped, you were too far in to do anything and nursed your drink as the movie took a haunting turn. Slowly the routine the pair had going for years was eroded and your chest ached. Still in a rising action, something about the thought of them not being able to watch their favorite movie together again got you. Tears were soon streaming down your face and, as the climax hit, warbled voices speaking of fear activated memories you had tried to keep at bay. The end of the movie sort of happened and by the credits you were hanging your head.

The love was platonic.

No one died.

By all accounts it wasn’t similar at all, so why has this of all things broken you?

Squeezing your face as if it were a sponge to wring out excess tears, you stormed to get a snack. Predictably, or cosmically, the cupboards were bare minus a strange jar of pickled rounds you couldn’t identify and a single popcorn bag that was leaking out of a torn corner. Grimacing at the thought of what that might mean, you cleaned out the cabinet as a whole and ended up accidentally slipping off the counter in the process. You mostly saved yourself, but still hit your funny bone. It exaggerated the stupid tears that kept easily finding their way out of your ducts. Wilting down to the ground and nursing your arm, you stared out across your apartment.

This was all so dumb.

You were being dramatic.

You hadn’t broken up.

You weren’t even taking a break.

He was just gone on a trip.

So to speak.

It was as if you were pulling a reverse of what should be. You’d opened so strong with Donatello. You’d put yourself out there with a confidence that welled from an unknown source. As things got more serious, excitement blinded you. Seeing him was an automatic hit of serotonin so who were you to examine the cracks that seemed to always form every single time something interrupted that. It was alarming that small absences sent you down negative paths so quickly. It was as if the improbability of him accepting a courting had bolstered you. Without that seemingly assured futility paired with his rapidly increasing reciprocation, things were simply too real. Greater weight meant greater loss. The thought of which chained your heart.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and set your chin atop them. Your mind swirled with anxieties and the many questions left unanswered. You’d determined to keep from thinking for just this reason. It only lead down dark paths. You were isolated and had no one but yourself to turn to. Sinking further down, more tears snuck free. This time had been especially illuminating on that front. Your woes were confined to your mind. It seemed like the closer you got to Donatello, the less you could tell others what was happening. It hadn’t been expressly forbidden, but his matters felt either private or, at the very least, illegal in some capacity.

Sure, your friends had seen your mutant boyfriend, but who would believe you just so happened to be jumped by three more who were coincidentally created in the same experiment to eradicate mankind?

Raising up enough to bump your head back against the cabinets, you thought about the physical healing you’d done.

At least you’d made some strides in some department.

It meant undoing them would be all the sweeter.

You needed something greasy.

Standing, you checked the time. It was just late enough that the family places were closed, but early enough that people were just heading out for wild nights. With delivery fees still looming overhead, you looked down at yourself. You’d garnered another stain; this one on your shirt. Caring very little, you marched toward the door. With a swift kick, you toppled the pile you’d left there and rooted out your phone and wallet. Pocketing the device before you could see it, you checked for cash and found that lost bill peeking out. It felt like a sort of fate that you hadn’t thought to use it as a tip elsewhere.

Hitting the street, you stuffed your hands among your possessions. Friday’s poise showed in the passersby and you felt schlubby in comparison. Scrubbing your face only stung where the tears salted your skin and you heard a group of guys laugh. Reminding yourself it wasn’t for you, you turned a corner heading towards the closest fast food chain. Though you’d been out most of the week, the irritations of the day and lonely aspects of the night commingled miserably. You did your best to keep the irrational abandonment at bay, but it seemed incessant.

When had you become so clingy?

You tried to remember before, but it all seemed so futile. In the span of your life you had several decades of time without him and yet they seemed to pale in comparison. It was a red flag of your own making and not one you were keen on taking with you whenever he did return. You needed to temper expectations. You had to act like you hadn’t had trouble sleeping or eating. You needed to stop convincing yourself that your little benders weren’t a necessary evil. You knew better. You needed to miss him less than he clearly missed you.

There it was again.

Wincing so hard a few more stupid tears leaked out, you stopped walking to press your sleeve to your face.

It was obvious.

You didn’t know that for sure.

Why weren’t the rationales working?

Dragging the sleeve across your face so hard it burned, you marched with purpose. Sure, French fries wouldn’t solve your problems and were nothing more than another ridiculous balm, but at least they would taste damn good. You saw the glowing beacon tucked a few blocks down. You burned its lights into your retinas in an attempt to drown out the negative thoughts. They had never reared their head in this way and you were clearly losing the battle.

You had a sea of comments from him that said otherwise and yet given space all you could do was second guess every moment.

In a mental scream, you loudly berated the derogatory voices until you finally reached the restaurant. With doors flung open with a little too much force, you headed straight towards the counter. A man there seemed stunned by your existence for only a moment before his lackadaisical attitude kicked in. You ordered and passed him the 20 to receive change back. Pocketing the money instead of fiddling with your wallet, you wandered over to the sparse seating area.

You hadn’t checked your phone since this morning.

That incessant well of hope sprung up at just the thought.

Mentally building a dam of twigs and mud, you pulled out the device. A few wrong clicks with oily hands meant you bypassed the code to instead bring up the camera. Its last setting had been front facing for whatever reason and you caught sight of what startled the employee. Your hair was a mess, your face was ruddy, your cheeks were clearly tear stained, and there was yet another stain you hadn’t noticed on your shoulder.

Did you eat like an animal?

Cursing the makers of frozen food, you stared listlessly at yourself. You were just bitter enough that you could self-depreciate. Bringing the phone up high to at least attempt a flattering angle, you took a picture with the counter in the background. You shot it off into the sea of other texts with red warnings before thinking to add a comment.

You: Having the best Friday night ever

In a move that you imagined to be like an old gunslinger, you pocketed your device and leaned into a wall. Your eyes felt watery again so you closed them to keep anything else from falling. You wondered if maybe fighting back was the problem. Maybe you just needed to accept that you had always been the reacher in the relationship and, while you berated Donnie at the prospect of making his life about you, you had done so subconsciously as it was the pit you had fallen into. Acknowledgement would help you untangle the sticky web of complex emotions.

You must have finally run the gambit of grief.

Acceptance was the final step, or so they said.

Plotting a better tomorrow and a throw away of this evening, the employee called out to you. Pushing off the wall and feeling the smallest bit better, you went to grab your food. The bag entered your grasp and you lifted it off the tray to keep the worker from having to deal with picking it up later. He took the plastic back and you turned to leave. Parting a glance to the lobby on sheer coincidence, you saw several bills lying on the ground where you had once been. Souring and remembering your old west maneuver had probably dumped them, you sighed as you hobbled over to grab them. In a quick squat, you swiped the tender and heard a resounding clatter of something being dropped in the kitchen.

Slowly pushing off your knees into a rotation, there was a scream and then glass seemed to be flying everywhere. Stumbling backwards and falling into an affixed seat, you opened your eyes from where they were screwed shut to see the lights were now out and the entire front entrance was gone. What remained of it was sharp jagged edges of glass and several people running away outside through the now clear view of the sidewalk. Tinnitus set in signifying there had been some sort of explosion and you deliriously fought against it for clarity’s sake. In what was an embarrassing struggle, you managed to get back on your feet as the first sounds reached your damaged ear drums.

It sounded like the rhythmic motions of heavy machinery.

Vague memories percolated, which you kicked aside as you scrambled up to a corner to peek at whatever was happening. At the register, barely visible by some emergency lighting coming from within the kitchen, was a huge spider-like shape. Two thick legs dug wide into the ground and held up what you identified as the pilot of what must have been a suit. Another arm was then buried into the ruins of the counter while a fourth was wrapped around the employee who had helped you. The appendage brought the man up to the figure’s face where purple light seemed to burn him as his face was contorted in agony.

“I asked you a simple question.”

You nearly dropped your bag of food.

You’d only heard that voice once before.

It had haunted you for a long while, but it now elicited a very different reaction.

“I-I-I-I d-don’t k-know, m-man! I-I-I s-swear!” The employee stuttered and you could see the mechanics coil around him tighter until he had to give up on his grimace to gasp at the pressure.

You also knew that feeling well.

“Looking for someone?!” You planted your feet and shouted out.

The figure stopped dead.

Your heart made for a similar maneuver as you waited.

Then in a deathly slow turn, the figure’s head pivoted to your direction.

Two huge round purple orbs bathed you in their light.

“R-r-run!” The employee croaked.

That wasn’t happening.

It was nice of him though.

The arm released the man and he crashed into a heap somewhere behind the counter.

Mechanics shifted as metal extracted itself from plywood and the arms rotated the figure to face you. You stared up in awe as they then walked over to you in a methodical fashion. With a bend, the two lower arms brought the figure down until he was almost touching the ground. Memories of fear shot high, but they were intangible compared to what was now in front of you. That night had held a misty figure of torment. Even in the dark, the definition you now had painted him in a totally new light.

He was clearly disheveled. You had a feeling it wasn’t meant to be that way and this costume had been thrown on in a hurry. The collar of the black jumpsuit he wore hadn’t been zipped up all the way and flopped at a strange angle. His hood teetered back on his head to the point where a slight shift would probably knock it off. It helped accentuate the clear circuitry in there that wasn’t being used. A belt came off his shoulder and dangled uselessly down. It directed your eye further where you found one of his pants legs hadn’t been properly stuffed into his boots.

It reminded you of how you looked.

It served to further crop up a sort of kinship that then completely squashed the last embers of alarm left at the sight of him.

“You’re… not scared.”

His voice was so deep; it was strange. Still around his footwear, you moved to look into those glowing eyes. They had been white from what you last remembered. The recall of which seemed particularly distant. It felt like looking back on a nightmare many days after the fact. You understood why the employee had winced though. His headlamps were incessantly bright.

“I’m not.” Despite the light, you couldn’t help but soften.

Though you couldn’t see his gaze, you could sense he looked you over. Whatever he found appeased him because, when he brought his attention up, he had an assured aura. “Pretend to be.”

You nodded before an arm wrapped reached out to you carefully. You watched it openly as it slithered along your hip before beginning to encircle you. Memories of a coiling snake lapped at your consciousness, but still felt hollow in comparison to the terror from before. Though it looked similar to how the employee had been held, there was a gentleness as you were lifted off the ground. It was hard not to smile as you remembered his order. Trying to play the part, you freely let out a yelp of surprise. .

“H-hey!” You choked out as if you were being strangled even though in reality that was furthest from the truth.

In a turn and with a stomping of mechanical limbs, you exited out the hole while scared protests leaked off your lips. The wrap hadn’t coiled around your arms and so you made a show of trying to wrench yourself free. Crumbling brick rained down and signaled you were about to head up the building. He let you dangle in a trail behind him so you sent one last desperate plea to the workers who watched on in horror as you disappeared out the threshold. Back in the night air, you watched as three limbs mechanically worked their way up the building. It wasn’t exact, but the way the pack moved more methodically than what you recalled. You hoped the light of the city would help you get a better look at whatever his costume was, but from the back he basically looked like a black blob.

If he were going for anonymity then he was nailing it.

You breached the rooftop and he took pause. From your comfortable perch, you craned your head to see him fiddling with something. Waiting, he eventually turned towards you incrementally through use of his pack.

“We’re going to clear the area. They’ve called the police.”

“Gotcha!” You chirped before remembering yourself. “Oh, am I supposed to keep…?”

“Hold on.”

The pitch was still wrong, but it was teetering more towards recognizable. You were only given a useless moment to wonder if he meant to wait or grab something before he took off. In a rapid crawl that reminded you of a skittering bug, he ate up real estate at an alarming rate. You ended up bunkering down into the arm that shifted its hold as if to shield you. When he finally stopped, you peeked out to find you had to be miles from your original destination. He was fiddling with something again and continued to do so as you were lowered to the roof. The arm lingered until your feet were properly on the ground before he turned to you in a rapid rush.

You realized he’d also gotten his boots down and a gloved hand shot out only to freeze just before grazing you. His head tipped down as he did a blatant sweeping scan that ended in a slow trek to your face. In that time, you finally got the open view of him you craved. His jumpsuit appeared to be purposefully clunky in a way that encompassed his form and gave nothing away of what lay underneath. There was purple stripe detail that lined the zipper that wasn’t pulled up all the way. If it had, the collar would probably obscure his snout all the more. The dangling strap held a similarly colored blocky ‘D’ on it that you found to be an adorable trademark. The only parts of his costume that were suctioned to his skin were where the battle shell stabilized around his waist, his gloves, and his black combat boots that continued the theming with purple laces. His legs were dotted with various pouches and pockets further plumping out his pants with little color coded accents. It all hid him away just like the jet black mask that encased those purple eyes.

It was no wonder the media couldn’t settle on a name for him.

What would someone even call this?

“You aren’t injured.”

“No.” You spoke the phrase as you continued to examine his outfit.

“The photograph.”

You blinked wide before finally turning your attention straight at him.

Stupid selfie.

“Oh…” You grimaced. “About that…”

He straightened slightly as he waited.

“I…” Your gaze hit the roof below. “… had a bad day… is all.”

“You-” He made a noise of irritation and it was the closest to sounding like him yet. You watched his hands come away from you and reach up to his mask. The lights in his goggles clicked off first and you caught a glimpse of his gaze through the colored glass. In one swoop, the goggles and accompanying fabric were in one yanked off and his hood flicked back. Donnie stood in front of you in a huff.

“You-” You corrected. “-overreacted.”

“I-!?” He rose slightly with indignation. “I returned to the city to find evidence of you, distraught!”

“So you are going to acknowledge it?” You added an icy edge with the turn of your chin.

He dropped back down. “What do you mean?”

Anger shot through you.

That didn’t seem right.

“That you’re back! No hi, hello, or welcome! You just destroy a fucking fast food joint without noticing me at all!” You jammed a finger at him, but kept it from connecting. “One month and you’ve completely reverted! Not only did you freak out, you didn’t try to check in with me, and tracked me, with-” You reeled your arm in and threw the other out to push up your sleeve to show your tech gauntlet. “-this!”

He sank slightly into his suit.

“And even now you’re-!” Your breath hitched.

When had all those tears formed in your eyes?

He was back.

Weren’t you supposed to be happy?

Didn’t you have a plan to quell your excitement?

Why is it all you wanted to do was sob?

“Even now… you don’t…” You choked on the bitterness.

There was a click and release. You looked up to find the arms still standing, but Donnie stepped freely away from the battle shell. He closed the short gap between you, but hesitated again with a lifted finger.

“Guilt keeping you?” You spat quietly.

Wait.

“Guilt?” He dipped his head to catch your eye with a sudden urgency.

You dodged him.

This wasn’t right.

“A nice little vacation.” You turned an eye on him only on your own terms.

No, you needed to stop.

He was clearly confused. “It was no vacation, I can assure you.”

“Assure?” Your chest puffed out and leaned your head back. “Calm down, you mean? Quell the piece back home?”

Irrational.

“Piece?” His snout crinkled around the word.

“Just stop.” You seethed and turned away.

You needed to stop.

None of this was real.

You knew that.

Why couldn’t you stop it from pouring out like blood from a wound?

“Y/N, I don’t understand.” He reached up and pulled the zipper at his suit.

“Ugh!” You almost gagged visibly, but were able to barely keep the theatric in check. “Enough stripping already! The costume isn’t the issue!”

He stopped and stared at you with a hardening expression.

“I’ll find my own way down.” You headed towards the access door when his hand closed like a vice around your wrist. You whipped around in a fury completely out of your control. “Don’t touch me-!”

He had his phone out and was swiping through it.

Horror blanketed you and you yanked desperately.

He let you thrash, but refused to let go as his eye scanned the device intently.

Bile burned your esophagus as you changed course. You shot towards him and he dodged easily in spin. “Stop!” You screeched and made another swipe that he easily outmaneuvered while still keeping your cuff on tightly. Furious, you twisted around in a new way and caught a glimpse of his screen.

It was your text chain.

Stomach bottoming out to nearly your feet, you dug your nails into the hand on you. Blood seeped from the pressure and you sent a satisfied smirk in his direction. The pained expression you hoped to find there was instead dire solemnity.

It looked eerily close to pity.

Enflamed, but beaten, you shrank away as far as he’d let you until he seemed to catch up with the messages.. He then allowed his phone to clatter to the ground as he turned on you.

“Don’t.” You warned, already curling into yourself.

He didn’t speak and released you.

You stood numbly and rubbed your wrist.

The damage there was your own.

Hadn’t you wanted to run?

He was coming close and you shirked away from him.

“Donnie stop.”

Like an unrelenting force, he continued to step towards you.

“Listen!” Your voice sounded thin.

He reached out.

“Don’t touch me!”

He halted on contact with the phrase.

You wanted to retract.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to cry.

This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to go.

It shouldn’t have happened tonight.

Tonight was already deemed a waste.

“I’d like permission.”

You refused to look at him. “For what?”

Just go.

“To comfort you.”

Why?

“Why?”

“I should have found another way; one that didn’t involve leaving you.”

Stop prolonging the inevitable!

Move on already!

All you’ve done is lead me on!

Go be with the perfect being that is clearly waiting on you!

Stop wasting my time!

Stop wasting yours!

The screams were so loud, your knees buckled.

Instead of falling, you dropped to a squat and buried your face into your hands. Your breath was so loud within the cupping, but it still wasn’t enough to quell those raging irrational thoughts.

You heard a swish of fabric.

He was still there.

He refused to stop hovering.

Why did he keep waiting?

Why wouldn’t he just leave?

Maybe you needed to tell him?

He needed to hear it.

Even if you wanted to, you knew you were too pathetic to ever do it.

No matter how much you wanted better for him.

You were too selfish.

You had been waiting so long for his return.

He was back.

Raising up as if puppeteered by an entirely different entity, you felt the night air hit your wet cheeks.

Of course, you were crying again.

You turned your devastated expression on him and spoke through glass. “I’m sorry.”

He was close; as close as he could possibly be with his big body and yet he still hadn’t touched you. He held out a hand and a handkerchief was deposited there from one of his arms of the battle shell even though it still sat a length away. Taking great care in adjusting the fabric in his hold, he blotted your cheeks. It was there that you felt how he’d maneuvered it so he wasn’t even touching you through the fabric.

His staunch following of your direction caused more tears to flow.

Stupid perfect asshole.

He caught the drips easily.

“I’m a mess.”

He shook his head.

“I have photo evidence to prove it.”

He raised a brow that said he disagreed.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

He stared for a moment longer before his gaze sank along with his hand. He stared at the darkened spots where your tears had absorbed into the handkerchief. “My first response needs to be a perfect encapsulation of my thoughts. Though, I am having difficulty formulating one.”

“Silence isn’t better.”

“I see that.”

Shifting off your rapidly numbing legs, you let yourself fall onto your ass.

“I should have realized.” There was a thump of him presumably doing the same. “I could have done something to quell your concerns.”

“Quell, huh?” You responded dryly.

You felt his gaze snap to you. “I ignored your prior insinuation because it was patently erroneous, but I find it alarming that you would bring it up again.”

“Bring up what?” Your legs were still a tangle in front of you and you hiked them up to bury your chin into your knee.

“That there could be anyone else.”

How many times would you force him to say that?

“It makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.” There was a shift as he somehow scooted even closer to you with nary a graze.

“Keep that up and we’ll need a microscope to prove your following orders.” You flicked him a harsh glance.

“I’ll supply one.”

“Donnie.”

“There is no one else. Not here. Not in the Hidden City. There is-” His hand appeared first as an anchor by your hip and then his face as close to yours as could be. “-only you. There has only been you since we met.”

You were glad your lips were pressed to your knee because it kept the questions from sneaking out.

“I will reassure you as many times as is necessary for you to believe me.”

After a lengthy blink, you finally turned a watery eye towards him.

“It does not ‘make sense’ or, however you chose to put it, otherwise. I have never entertained anyone as I have you. I also can’t imagine doing so. Do not depreciate your worth. You have no idea how valuable you are. I will admit, though, that I am unable to be objective in that regard.”

Your head rose from its perch and shook ever so slightly as you stared.

“You had openly shared your concerns regarding abandonment prior. I should have realized that, no matter the circumstance, this was analogous.”

Your mouth turned down threateningly and levered the well of your tear ducts.

“I cannot make up for the time we’ve lost, but you can be damn sure that I will not allow anything to separate us again.” There was a wicked edge to his eye that spoke of things set into motion that were probably best left unknown.

“Why me?” Your knee dropped down, leaving your torso exposed.

He gave his patented look. “I believe you were the one to attempt pivoting that statement through the other’s lens.”

Your brows knit.

“I could ask you the same, a stalemate.”

You shifted, opening yourself up all the more. “Why don’t you worry about me finding someone else?”

He squinted as if that were impossible. “Why should I?”

You pursed your lips and turned away a little. “Sorry, ‘Mr. Perfect.’”

“Setting aside your sarcasm, I just acknowledged fault, i.e. the enemy of perfection.”

“No.” You gave a sigh as you changed positions to face him. “I was being rude because you apparently think you’re so good that I couldn’t possibly go after anyone else.”

His gaze flicked away as if he were waiting for some joke to be called. When one didn’t, he returned with honest confusion. “For the sake of this… thought exercise, and I want to remind you that it is such and thus hypothetical on all accounts, that I would know the moment I came into contact with you, if you had been unfaithful, but, again for the sake of the exercise, I will ask, why would you cheat on me to begin with?”

“We’d have to be dating.”

His head bobbed as again he searched for the camera crew before returning to you with an affronted look. “We are.”

“Are we?” You lowered yourself under the weight of nerves.

“We continually go on dates, you’ve slept over nearly as much as you did your own apartment… We are by all accounts romantically entwined.”

“Your…” You could only find earnest intent across from you. “That’s something you have to establish!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his snout. “I did!”

“Uh, no, you didn’t!”

Donnie shook his head like he couldn’t believe what was being said. “You told me I had to clarify when I asked you out and then I did exactly that. I didn’t mince my words and you accepted verbally.”

You stared openly and searched to find no such memory. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“All this time-” Donnie growled and brought a hand up to push between his eyes like he had an oncoming migraine. “I don’t know what’s more concerning; that you somehow didn’t realize or that there was even a possibility you could go to someone else.”

“Donnie!”

Donnie dropped his arm and stared at you with fiery determination. “Would you like to date exclusively?”

“… Yes.”

“Would you like to be monogamous?” A venom leaked in there that said he would fight otherwise even though he offered the choice.

It brought the bud of a smile to your lips that you fended off. “Yes.”

“Then we are officially confirmed, though I refuse to acknowledge this as an anniversary. Voice your agreement.”

The grin blossomed against your will. “I agree and also, you’re keeping track? You don’t seem like the anniversary type.”

He shot you a biting look which he quickly traded for recognition. “Was that the source of your insecurity?”

You opened your mouth and closed it to turn away. “I want to give a flat yes, but… no. It’s clearly more.”

Donnie nodded slowly. “Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head. “This has all been terrible timing. I… I literally just decided tonight to start working on this…”

“This being…?”

“You name it: negative thoughts, doomsaying, self blame, fear of abandonment...”

Carefully, he placed a hand to the ground near you. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch you, but resisted by digging a pad into the roof. “Was there a particular revelation?”

You gave a single dry chuckle. “You could say that.” Your head tilted as you stared at his hand. “A bad day led to worse thoughts. I’ve been fighting it, but I’m weak.”

You could feel offense rolling off your partner.

“I’m clingy, needy, and, apparently, super insecure. Logically, I knew it was all… illogical, but the bad thoughts just kept coming. I feel like a huge hypocrite.” You fought the urge to curl up. “It’s barely been a month and I worked myself up into such a tizzy that I convinced myself there had to be someone else. Not because I had evidence or an inkling, but because I just… thought so little of myself? … I guess?”

One of his fingers curled and stroked the uneven surface below in an attempt to soothe himself.

“Even now, I believe you. I hear you. I want to be happy. I can feel it submerged beneath this stupid ocean of doubt that I am; that we’re finally official.” You shot him a look which he caught with a tired expression. “To me.” You clarified before dropping your gaze. “Which is great, but it’s not an instant fix. The doubt is still there even though I know it isn’t real. Us… being close. It’s like an imposter syndrome that doesn’t set in until we’re apart and I can see it. Like no matter how close we get, you’re destined to leave.”

Donnie stopped and spread his digits out flat.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t the reunion either of us wanted…”

“The kind doesn’t matter.”

You looked up at him to find that he was also examining his own hand. “When you say it like that, it sounds like it doesn’t matter that I’m upset.”

He chuffed before looking at you, deadpan. “I despise when you’re upset, but reuniting, no matter the circumstance, was my top priority. It was always meant to be the first action upon my return. I would have preferred to take you in my arms, but I am also to blame for that failed occurrence.”

“What… happened? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” He responded too quickly before relenting by tossing his head. “I emerged from a portal with my phone at the ready. I sent the retrieval code and allowed the messages to filter in. While they were dispersing, I messaged S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to see if you were home. He replied that you weren’t so I switched back to our text chain and that’s where I saw… that photo.”

In a shift of your body weight, you pressed a hand near his and leaned onto it.

“I’ll admit the next actions are a blur outside of the single drive to eradicate whoever had the notion of harming you.”

You have a small smile. “Kinda hard when it was a movie and me.”

“A movie?”

You mocked a wince before rolling your eyes. “Even more dumb; it was nothing like us, but it was just some sad flick where one friend dies… Nevermind, the point is the thought of them not being able to hang out anymore hit me wrong.”

He made a noise of comprehension before his silence tugged your eye. You looked to find him thinking, but there was a hostile air to him.

“You’re not going after the writers, directors, or whoever!”

“Hm?” He looked up and you could see the plastic veneer of how synthetic his surprise was.

“Quit! It’s a story! Some movies are sad!” You blew a puff of air at him and he turned away from it.

“I suppose that leaves you.”

“Yeah…” You looked over at his battle shell. “I’m not gonna win that one.”

“I beg to differ.”

You gave him an audacious look, but he simply returned it with a neutral one that spoke of nothing else. “Huh.”

“A glaring weakness.” He said simply before returning his gaze to his hand.

You tried to imagine what that was before another image sank it and left goose bumps in its wake. “Take me in your arms? Were you daydreaming about me Donatello?”

The sudden use of his full name in a casual manner seemed to jar him though he fended off physically doing so. He let it linger before his expression shifted to a tender one. “May I?”

You weren’t sure what he was asking, but your lips moved. “Yes?”

He rose up and you felt grounded by the intense look he shot you. He then leaned in threateningly close and brought an arm up. Instead of catching you, it simply hovered as a cage around your shoulder as his nose leveled out with yours. “You plagued me to the point where it interfered with my work. It was the inability to contact you that was the true torment. You have no idea the amount of times I considered popping back into the city. It only need be long enough to glimpse you in a futile attempt to quell that inane distraction if only for a moment.”

You shrank away and hoped to fall into his arm.

Still trapped by your order, he adjusted to keep you from doing so while leaning farther forward to make up for the space.

“You-?” A shudder interrupted you, but you forced your eyes open through it.

“Missed you.” His gaze flicked to your lips then back to your eyes for clarification. “I missed you.”

A tear ran down your cheek and you watched it try to pull Donnie’s eye. He refused it and you launched yourself at him. With your arms encircling his neck, he allowed you to knock him clear to the ground. There you refused to let go and buried your face into his collar. You felt his arms hovering and you had to turn just enough to speak out. “Please. Hold me-no-whatever you want. Just anything, please.”

His arms came around in a crushing force and you happily accepted by desperately rooting as close to him as possible. It took far too much wiggling for what could have been comfortable, but you eventually settled with your legs slotted between his, curled up on his plastron. He rubbed at your back in both a soothing and hungry motion. You butted your head further against his and he dipped down to bury his against your hair. He paused suddenly there and you felt him take a deep breath. He then made a noise of irritation before doing his own desperate jostling. You giggled as he scrubbed manically at you with his head. The faint scales of his cheeks tickled yours and he got a grip on the back of your head to keep you in place while he did his work. It wasn’t until he stopped, gave another testing sniff, and let his muscles relax that you finally chanced questioning it. “Something off about my smell? I haven’t taken a shower yet.”

“There was no trace of mine.”

You blinked wide before propping yourself up with elbows to his plastron to look down at him. “Yours?”

“Mine.” He repeated firmly though his gaze clearly indicated it was meant differently.

You shrank down to join your hands around his chest. You let the heat in your cheeks smolder before a little counter thought buoyed you. “It goes both ways since… you are my boyfriend after all.”

You felt his whole body give a single second tense at the statement before his arms reaffirmed their encircling. It gave you time to reign in your overwhelmed emotions.

When you came to, you felt sleepy. “How was the Hidden City?”

“I saw little. I tucked myself away into a lab and only left a handful of times.”

You tried to picture him surrounded by proper lab equipment. “You did say it was no vacation.”

“Indeed.” He quieted and you felt one of his thumbs begin to draw lazy circles around the small of your back. “We can go one day, on our own terms. I’m sure you will be stunned by the beauty there.”

“Not you?” You hummed, shifting your chin against his pectoral plate.

“Never.”

Against your body’s protest, you hoisted yourself up again. “I don’t want to go then.”

His gaze dipped to you genially, but his head continued to lay flat. “Not interested in making memories anew?”

“Giving better context is fine, but hearing you actively dislike it makes me less curious. We’re making memories just fine. Plus, it’s hard for me to care about a place I didn’t even know existed until a month ago.”

He smiled, satisfied, and closed his eyes.

You sank back against his chest and grew still until you could just feel the faintest rise and fall of his breath. With the terrible voices finally tapering off in the face of Donnie’s dedication, you gave a single snort as you remembered something.

His finger tapped you to communicate his question.

“There was one real downside tonight.”

“And what’s that?”

“I didn’t get to eat the food I bought. I honestly have no idea what happened to it.”

Donnie gave an amused snort of his own.

“What?” You pouted even though he couldn’t see it. “Sure, it’s crap and cheap, but I still wanted it.”

“Look up.”

You had a question on your lips, but, as you shifted to obey, you heard the movement of his battle shell. It walked over until one of its mechanical arms outstretched and held a paper bag overhead.

You rose up in time with your arms to take it with both hands. “What the…?” The arm released and you immediately felt the heat. “It’s still hot!?”

“My battle shell has a warming function. It’s obviously not fresh, but-”

You ignored him to scrambled off and sit cross-legged beside him with the bag between your legs.

He grumbled as he forced himself upright.

You pulled out your sandwich and unfurled the paper slowly, savoring the scent that rushed out. You then sank your teeth into it and took a huge bite. Coming away to chew, you threw your head back and gave a happy hum.

Whatever latent ire Donnie had melted away and you could feel him watching you with affection.

Swallowing your bite, you dunked your hand into the bag to retrieve some fries and held them out to him. “Thank you.”

He exchanged a look between them and you several times before leaning forward to bite down. You released as he took them and watched as he cutely chewed them up into his mouth with rabbit-like imagery. He caught your enamored staring and you shirked away from his smirk to take another bite of your sandwich. He leaned back and planted his arms out behind him on either side to lazily gaze skyward. You scootched over until you were slotted against his side and leaned into him. You then continued to eat while routinely feeding him fries. Savoring your meal, you eventually finished and flopped against him to bear nearly all your weight. He accepted it easily and sank down until he could lay his head against yours.

You nudged him affectionately and lamented how greasy your lips were. You doubted he’d want to kiss you like that and internally sulked. In a gentle shift of metal, the battle shell dropped down and created a backrest for both of you. When you leaned into it, it then shifted for added comfort and to create a protective barrier around you. Pacified in nearly every sense, you stared up at the stars as everything else felt insignificant. It meant when a voice did reach you, it felt particularly far away.

“We are to not decide actions for the other solitarily.”

You hummed your affirmation.

“Are you conscious enough for this conversation?” Donnie craned his head and appeared in the top right of your vision.

“I’m up.” You twisted your body some so you could watch him.

“How do you feel about what I did tonight?”

You tilted your head, about to think it over, when he continued.

“Barring the tracking and overreaction.”

Raising your brows in comprehension, you gave a little nod as you thought it over. “I probably should care more about the property damage, but it’s just some dime a dozen chain. Well… wait. Does it hurt the franchise owner?”

Donnie studied you carefully, but his features gave little away. “And the employee?”

Shifting as he ignored your question, you frowned. “Did you hurt him?”

“Nothing lengthy.”

“And franchise?”

“It’s easy enough to look up ownership in addition to their insurance policy. After the Krang, most businesses in New York are required to carry a level of supernatural coverage.”

Krang?

“Why do you ask?” You really didn’t want to sit up, but the conversation was begging you to.

He was quiet for a long moment. You watched carefully as his eye held a heavy quality before he sent it upwards towards the sky. “With your permission, I’d like to slowly bring you into my world. Given lengthy time to evaluate our options, I’ve determined ignorance is no longer your safest course.” Dropping his withdrawal, he looked down at you with a sudden lighthearted air. “You think I, of all people, would have realized knowledge is one’s greatest defense.”

“You’re the dumbest smart guy I know.” You beamed up at him.

He soured into nearly a glare.

“Don’t worry. You’re still mine and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You leaned up to peck him and paused as you remembered the grease.

He noticed and reached down to something you didn’t care to look at. You were carving his image back into your fresh memory when the crinkling of paper followed. His hand then appeared with a brown napkin. You shot him a smile before taking it to wipe your face. When you came away he was obviously presenting his cheek. You played up a show as if you were forced before leaning in to give him a kiss. Right before you made contact, he turned and caught your lips with his own. Trying to downplay how he’d caught you off guard, you decided to get him back by deepening the maneuver with a sudden ferocity. Air rescinded as he sharply inhaled in surprise.

Coming away only enough that when he spoke his lips brushed yours, he asked, “Your response?”

“Yes, all around.”

“Good.” He pulled another kiss from you in a slow way that made the way your lips resisted separation all the more apparent. “Do you like Italian?”

“Food?” You had to pull back to laugh. “I mean sure, we’ve had it before.”

A little content rumble came from his chest as the arm around you pulled you back to him. “There is an event I’d like you to attend as my date. It will send a message. I will not be surprised again. Is that agreeable?”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was right. You are possessive, hm?”

“Then it is a good time to mention that another factor in all of this is selfishly wanting you by my side. Always”

This time you stole a kiss.

He was growing more hesitant to pull away, but he seemed to want to say something else.

You decided to be the one to interject “It’s another ‘it goes both ways.’”

Against his will, his eyes grew owlish.

You dipped your voice down and ghosted over his lips as he had you. “You’re not the only one who wants the world to know who you belong to.”

In a growl, he flipped you and crushed his mouth to yours as the battle shell reconfigured into a sort of supportive seat. You made out until you heard a fist bang against metal. Donnie then rose up with anger painting his features. “Incessant!” He growled and looked down on you. “As much as I’d like to continue. I have one more obligation that must be fulfilled.”

“Yeah?” Your lips throbbed, kiss bruised.

“A stipulation of our agreement was him being able to see you as soon as you were cleared, safe, and content.” Donnie sat back on his knees and brought his arm up. It was then that you realized his gloves had disappeared long ago. Remembering the way they had once grown, it made sense they could retract similarly. With a shove, his sleeve pushed to his elbow and he tapped his tech gauntlet with excessive force.

“Him?” You wondered aloud, though the word hadn’t actually registered in your mind.

As if to answer your question, there was a sudden droning sound coming in fast.

You shot up, nearly crashing into Donnie as you searched the sky.

You located the faint glow of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s rotors soon enough and stood ready as he crashed into you.

“Careful!” Donnie hissed, softening your impact with an arm behind your back.

“I’m sorry, Y/N! I’m so sorry! Having to listen to you every night and not being able to respond broke my metaphorical heart! You have no idea how many times I wanted to say screw it and come see you! No matter how dumb the whole thing was, the safest decision was not to, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree. Just know I heard every word and I’m gonna so make it up to you! I’ve got a whole list! Just like the things you mentioned! It’s gonna be awesome!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. outpoured in speech so fast you could barely keep up.

Donnie sparked and looked down at you with wide eyes. “Every night?”

You looked up at him sheepishly. “Uh…”

“More than you were texted. That’s for sure.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. remarked proudly.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!” You barked before turning to Donnie apologetically. “It was different. I knew he was there-”

“It’s alright.” Donnie cut you off and you could see he was already sinking into a self-depreciation you knew all too well.

“No!” Not letting go of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., you shot to your toes and then had to do a jump to catch Donnie’s lips. The first kiss only made contact with his chin and he jostled awkwardly at the move. His gaze met yours to find you sitting firm with narrowed brows and fiery determination. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. buzzed out a teasing syllable as Donnie dipped down into reach so you could kiss his worries away.

Also huge shout-out to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83!

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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littlekatleaf · 1 year

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To love what is lovely, and will not last

I come, after a long absence, with Sandman fic. Not exactly what I'd planned, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and everything else has been blocked behind it.... It's almost 3am and I'm calling it done.

To stop time when something wonderful has touched us as with a match which is lit, and bright, but does not hurt in the common way, but delightfully ~ Mary Oliver, “Snow Geese”

Hob’s alarm beeps insistently, dragging him from the ocean of sleep and washing him onto the shore of waking - blinking, bleary. He grabs for the phone to silence it. Not even out of bed when his thoughts turn to the day’s tasks - marking long overdue, final edits of a journal article and likely several desperate calls from students wanting to earn extra credit. At least he has the solstice party after, as a treat.

Beside him, Morpheus shifts. “Time is it,” he mumbles into the pillow, voice rough, sleep-worn.

“Half six,” Hob says, tugging a shirt over his head. “Gotta get to work.”

“Are you mad? It’s only been three hours.”

As though the words remind his body, Hob yawns, then coughs into his sleeve. “Two hours too long. I’ve got at least three days’ work to pack in before the party.”

Morpheus peers at him. Frowns. “You’re still recovering from your illness. Come back to bed.”

“Don’t fuss; I’m much improved. Nowhere near my death.” Hob pokes him in the ribs, gently. Morpheus obliges with a sound that bears passing resemblance to a chuckle. “Besides the Dean’ll have my job, tenure or no, if I don’t get marks in today.” Hob forces himself to stand before the softness of the sheets and the warmth of Morpheus’s body pull him back. He more than half expects Morpheus to reach for him, attempt to draw him down.

Instead, Morpheus stares rather blankly for a long minute then abruptly turns his back, burrowing deeper into the quilts. Hob sighs. Deeply. He wishes he could say fuck it all and join him, but the fresher flu set him back significantly. No matter what he’d rather, procrastination is right out. Blasted responsibilities.

He consumes an entire pot of coffee which somehow manages to make him edgy without ridding him of tiredness. Cheek propped on fist, he works his way through the stack of final essays and take-home exams and doesn’t allow himself to move from his desk until midday. As he wanders into the kitchen, still trying to decide whether the last student really makes the argument he’s attempting, Hob catches a trailing melody from Morpheus’s studio, the echo of a beat. Something electronic - Paul Van Dyk, maybe? - better for a rave than a Saturday noon, but it’s what Morpheus prefers when he’s painting. Hob smiles; at least one of them is having fun. He pictures Morpheus in his usual pose - scowling at the canvas like it’s personally insulted him, one paintbrush in his hand, another tucked behind his ear, hair wild and paint spattered.

Hob goes to put his mug into the dishwasher, but finds it still full of clean dishes. Sighing, he adds it to a pile of dirty plates, glasses, and another mug that’s sticky with honey and redolent of mint and chamomile. He frowns. Unusual - Morpheus drinking tea, but Hob supposes the flat is chilly. Luckily the stack doesn’t overbalance and he promises himself he’ll take care of it after the party. Stomach rumbling, he opens the refrigerator to see what leftovers might still be edible and discovers, miracle of all miracles, a sandwich so freshly made the lettuce hasn’t yet wilted. It’s his favorite - brie and green apple - and he instantly forgives Morpheus ignoring the washing up as he takes a huge bite. With fortification, he might just make it to the end of the day.

Finally the third frantic student call is patiently attended to, the last of the marks are uploaded to the university system, the email to his editor is sent into the ether, and Hob feels distinctly lighter. He clatters down stairs to find final party preparations in full swing. Gabriel’s directing Morpheus in proper placement of furniture and decorations, Mako’s checking the sound system for Geordie’s band, and Jamie’s setting up the bar. After two decades of parties, none of them need his instruction, and even his practiced eye can’t find anything out of place. He expects no less, and yet the pride in what they’ve built brings a warmth to his chest. Nothing like mulled wine, holiday songs, good food and friends to pass the longest night and welcome the sun’s return at dawn.

Hob watches as Morpheus, balancing rather precariously on the edge of a chair across the room, attempts to drape a pine garland over the doorway. As he stretches to get the angle just right, his shirt slides up, exposing a pale strip of skin, stark against the black of his jeans. Hob imagines brushing his fingertips over that expanse, making Morpheus shiver under his touch. Suddenly Morpheus flinches, sharp. The chair tips, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment, dropping lightly to the floor.

“All right?” Hob asks, surprised at the unusual lapse of grace.

Morpheus nods as he passes, heading for the stairs. He doesn’t meet Hob’s gaze.

Hob turns to follow, but his phone rings. Jilly’s car’s broken down, can someone give her a ride? Never one to look askance at a fortunate turn of events, he gives her Geordie’s number. There’s plenty of room in the band’s van, they’re coming from the same end of town - and if Geordie has been looking for an excuse to talk to her for weeks, well that’s just a lucky coincidence.

“Meddling, are we?” Jamie laughs at Hob’s guilty startle.

He pulls an affronted expression. “I’d never. Nudge, maybe. Hint. A bit. Never meddle.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow.

Mako tosses a towel at him. “Get back to work and quit giving him shit. After all, worked with us, didn’t it?”

“Maybe.” But the hint of a smile curls Jamie’s lips and he follows Mako’s orders. “Better get yourself presentable, boss. You know Lena and Emily are gonna be here any minute.”

Hob looks down, realizing he hasn’t yet changed out of his ancient sweatshirt, then over at the clock above the bar. “Bollocks. Is it possible to be late to your own party?” “For you? Absolutely.”

“Remind me again why I hired you?”

“Because I make the filthiest martinis.” Jamie grins wolfishly as he tips gin and vermouth into a shaker.

Mako rolls his eyes. “Filthy something anyway.”

“Pot, kettle.”

Their good-natured bickering follows Hob upstairs where he finds Morpheus in his favorite spot, curled on the window seat. Party or no, he’s wearing his usual grey t-shirt and black jeans. In defiance of the season, his feet are bare.

“It is beginning to snow,” Morpheus says, not looking away from the gathering dusk where fat flakes of snow are, indeed, swirling down and dusting the grass and trees.

Hob considers whether suggesting Morpheus put on something warmer would make him sound like a nagging mum. Probably would do. “It’s said to bring luck, if the first snowfall of the year happens on the solstice,” he says instead, forcing himself to pay attention to the puzzle of his own attire. He needs something appropriate to the party, but comfortable.

“Might the weather keep your friends from attending the festivities?” Morpheus’s expression is unreadable in the blurry reflection of the window, but the wistfulness of his tone is clear and it takes Hob aback. While Morpheus hasn’t whinged about the annual solstice gathering, and has, point of fact, encouraged Hob to continue the tradition, he has also tended to be solitary since he … retired. Hob hadn’t imagined he would be looking forward to a gathering, no matter the occasion.

“Not likely. The heavy snow isn’t supposed to come until later tomorrow, and it takes more than a few centimeters to make Lena miss a party. There’ll be plenty of time for people to sober up in the morning and make their way home before the storm really hits.” He doesn’t acknowledge that Morpheus has named them Hob’s friends, as though they are not Morpheus’s as well, but he notes the fact.

“Good. I-I’ve never-” Morpheus’s voice catches on a hitching breath and he curls into himself, pinching a set of sneezes into silence. It takes him a second to recover. “Bless you. Never…?” Hob prompts, when he seems to be lost in thought.

Morpheus blinks back to himself. “N-never -” He sniffles, presses a curled finger under his nose, rubs gently. “- been to a party.” He manages to finish in a rush, then crumples again. “Httnxxt! N’xxt! Hih-N’xxtch!” He shivers, gooseflesh rising along his arms.

“Bless you. All right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just. A passing chill.”

Unable to resist, Hob pulls a flannel shirt from his wardrobe and holds it out. “I know, I know. It’s got long sleeves and color and everything. But as you may have heard, the weather outside is frightful and this will keep you warm.”

Morpheus heaves a long suffering sigh, then slides the shirt on anyway. The blue is almost exactly the same shade as his eyes, rich and deep as the Aegean Sea.

“I find it extremely hard to believe that the King of All Night’s Dreaming has never gone to a party,” Hob says. He finally decides on his most ridiculous ugly Christmas jumper - bright red, covered with black cats in Santa hats - a gift from an American student years ago.

Morpheus glares at him through watery eyes. “Not one I wished to attend.”

“Not even in the Fey realms?”

“You will not tempt me to speak a word against the Fey,” Morpheus says archly, then sniffles again, marring the hauteur.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Morpheus nods, but his focus has shifted. “I am…” He’s interrupted by a sneeze, then a second and third tumble after, harsh even muffled in his sleeve. “Ht’Isshuh! Hih-Issshh-isshue!” He takes the tissue Hob offers. “I am, perhaps, coming down with something,” he admits ruefully.

“Perhaps,” Hob echoes, teasing. “A foregone conclusion, considering my state these last days.” He digs through the bottom of the wardrobe. He’s sure there’s a belt in there somewhere. And at least one matching pair of socks.

“I’m sorry. I had been. Hoping. To attend a party simply as a guest. And to better acquaint myself with those who are important to you.” Morpheus clears his throat, then coughs.

Hob pauses and looks up from his search, startled. “You’re sorry,” he asks, the apology the first thing his brain latches on to. Rare, even now, for Morpheus to apologize for a small matter.

Morpheus shrugs, gaze turned out the window again. “I’ve been telling myself I am not ill, but I can no longer deny it. Promise you’ll tell me stories of the night come morning?”

“Are you feeling that badly? To miss it?” Though Hob had spent a day in bed himself, that was mostly at Morpheus’s insistence. He’d barely had a fever and was fine to muddle through. But Morpheus had badgered him into resting after the intensity of the semester, playing into his own procrastination tendencies too well.

He brushes a hand over Morpheus’s forehead, then his cheeks. He’s still cool to the touch, though now that Hob’s slowed down enough to pay attention, he notices the shadows pooled under blue eyes, the slight pinch between brows that indicates headache, visible even in the window reflection, remembers the tea mug, the morning distance. Morpheus must have realized he was getting sick even then and hoped to stave it off.

“I don’t wish anyone else to catch this.”

“Just don’t snog other people and they won’t.”

Morpheus finally turns to face him and glowers. “I would never.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Come on, duck.” Hob shifts, leaning Dream against his side and carding gentle fingers through his ever-messy hair. “Everyone else has already had the crud. Even Jamie, and he never gets sick.”

“Truly?” Morpheus sighs, hope warring with suspicion in his voice.

Hob does his best impression of innocence. “Would I lie to you?” “Without a doubt, if it gets you what you want.”

“What I want is you. It really is okay.” He leans down, presses a kiss to Morpheus’s temple. “And Mei isn’t coming, thank all that’s holy. She’s the only one who might be bothered.” “You dislike her.” Morpheus says slowly, as though he’s piecing together a puzzle. “It cannot be simply her subject.” Hob shakes his head. “I could forgive her teaching Shakespeare. I could even forgive her enjoying it. But she was unkind to you.” More than once, he doesn’t add.

“A minor incident,” Morpheus argues, but a faint flush colors his cheeks and when they join the party, he stays close to Hob’s side far longer than usual before retreating to a chair in an out of the way corner, beside the hearth.

With ease born of long practice, Hob threads his way through the pub, greeting the guests and chatting easily with each, while keeping a sliver of his focus on Morpheus. At first he sits alone, an island in the flow of the crowd. To the untrained eye, he seems distant, uninterested, his face impassive, body carefully rigid. Behind the mask, Hob knows, Morpheus is following the currents of conversations surrounding him. Technically no longer Prince of Stories, they still seem to nourish him.

Hob is all the way across the pub when he catches sight of Lena and Emily pulling chairs up to join Morpheus. Lena’s got a look in her eye that bodes ill for Hob - she knows too many embarrassing stories and never hesitates to share. Before he can intercept them, he’s pulled into a heated debate over whether Irish whiskey or Scotch is superior. By the time he manages to extricate himself, it’s clear that they’ve made themselves comfortable. Not surprising, but what does surprise him is that Morpheus actually seems to be equally comfortable with them. For the first time his body is at ease as he listens intently to something Lena’s saying.

“And that’s why he isn’t allowed to… Oh, oops,” she interrupts herself as Hob comes in earshot, but she doesn’t look even the slightest bit embarrassed.

“Hello Hob.” A hint of mirth quirks Morpheus’s lips.

Hob directs an exaggerated frown at Lena. “You’d better not be telling him about the pub in Dublin.”

“She wasn’t, but now she must,” Morpheus says, his voice little more than a rasp. His breath catches. Stutters. “Ex-excuse me,” he manages to say, turning away hastily. “Hih…ht’Issh! Issh! Hih-Isssh!”

Lena and Emily chorus blessings and Hob bites his tongue on the urge to ask how he’s feeling; he’d just brush off Hob’s concern, say it’s nothing. An oily feeling of disquiet curls into Hob’s belly anyway. He tells himself firmly to ignore it. “Dammit, Lena, that means I’ll have to tell him about what got us banished from Trinity’s library and I’m not nearly drunk enough for that.”

“The night is young,” Lena says. ”Go get yourself another drink. It’s time for your boyfriend to get to know the real you.”

Morpheus catches his gaze. “I could use a drink as well.”

Hob tosses up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right. Just leave me with a scrap of reputation, yeah?”

“I make no promises,” Lena says and her grin is wicked. Even as he walks away, Hob is certain he hears Morpheus chuckling under his breath.

“Good turnout,” Jamie says when Hob joins him behind the bar. He’s right - somewhere above fifty people, professors and students mingling with a few of the pub’s regulars. Someone’s pushed tables aside and a few brave (and inebriated) souls are dancing. Others play cards or darts, and he’s pretty sure he can make out a couple snogging in a darker corner. There’s plenty of food, the plates and cutlery seem well stocked, the music isn’t loud enough to keep people from talking. Everything is in order. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. But maybe he should make another circuit of the pub, just to be certain…

“Gabriel’s got it under control, boss. And if anyone starts anything, Mako will handle it. Take the night off for once.”

Hob winces. “Am I that obvious?”

“Let’s just say best you avoid the poker table. Or, actually, fancy a game?”

“Sod off; you’re on duty,” Hob says, laughing.

“And so’s Gabe. Enjoy the party. The company.” He looks meaningfully toward the little group by the hearth.

“I will. I am.” It’s true, he realizes. Emily leans forward, gesturing emphatically, managing to interrupt Lena and take the story over herself. Not upset in the least, Lena’s expression is a little proud of her girlfriend’s audacity, and more than a little fond. Morpheus presses a hand over his mouth as he laughs, but even muffled, the abrupt wounded goose honk of it startles both Lena and Emily into giggles as well. His eyes shine, simply reflected firelight. No longer magic and yet… still his Stranger. Once lost, now found. His Friend, who has known him over so many long years, and who he is finally getting to know as well.

Morpheus straightens, moves slightly away from the others. Hob wonders if he’s offended - or hurt - by their reaction. But then he grabs a napkin from the table and his laughter disintegrates into coughing.

“Poor bloke’s been sick a lot this winter. Better take one of these for him,” Jamie says, handing Hob two steaming mugs of mulled wine. “Tell him feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. I’ll tell him.” Hob forces himself to smile, but the uncomfortable disquiet has returned. He hadn’t paid close attention, but now that Jamie’s pointed it out, he can’t ignore it. Morpheus has been ill on and off since the beginning of the school year. There are a thousand reasons for it - everyone gets sick with new germs and uni is a veritable petri dish; Morpheus hasn’t even had a body for that long, of course it would be vulnerable. But what if it’s worse? He blinks and in the darkness a flash of a body laid out on marble, covered with a sheer cloth and yet he knows who it was… he knows.

“There’s mulled wine? And you didn’t bring us any? Rude,” Lena says.

“Sorry, only two hands,” Hob hands one to Morpheus, then takes a deep drink of his own.

“Oh, I love this song - dance?” Emily asks as Geordie and the band begin a reel. To Hob’s relief Lena agrees. She takes Emily’s arm and they whirl into the knot of dancers. Morpheus watches them go, still smiling - but the light of the fire casts the angles of his face into strange, deep shadows and Hob drinks again.

“Robert.” Though it’s still rough, Morpheus’s voice is somewhat stronger. There’s a question in it that Hob doesn’t want to answer.

He keeps his eyes on his mug. “Jamie says he hopes you feel better soon.”

“Hob.”

“Do you want to dance, too? I’m not great, but once I finish this drink…” he takes another, longer swallow. “Enough,” Morpheus says, the command no less forceful for coming through a human throat.

Hob finally looks down to find Morpheus gazing up at him with eyes that no longer swirl with endless constellations, but are still deeper than Hob can fathom. He releases the mug and Morpheus takes his hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the inside of Hob’s wrist.

“What has disturbed you?”

“I… The longest night is not long enough.”

“No?”

Hob shakes his head. He always wants more time.

Morpheus draws him down, puts an arm around him, rests his head on Hob’s shoulder. “I believe it is true - the first snowfall on Yule is indeed fortunate.”

“Why,” Hob asks into his hair.

“Because I have good drink. Good music. Good friends. And you. It is enough.” He presses his lips to Hob’s wrist and warmth flows through the contact, through Hob’s whole body until it feels like he glows bright as the flames.

“I suppose it is.”

#snezfic #constitutionally incapable of writing shortfic #D/reamling

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mochiwrites · 2 years

Text

Two feet enter his vision as Mumbo lays on the soft grass below. It’s the middle of the night, with the chilly air sweeping over him comfortably. His head rests in the grass, arms on his stomach. The grass is cool against his skin, leaving him quite comfortable. He gazes up at the moon, finding himself feeling at peace.

Except for when those feet pop up. The peaceful atmosphere is ruined, tearing Mumbo away from his pleasant moon watching.

He rips his gaze away from the moon, and instead looks at the avian standing behind him. From this angle, he can see the still healing puncture wound on his neck. Mumbo winces. He then forces the feeling down and instead smiles sheepishly, “Ah, hello Grian.” He greets.

To his dismay, Grian does not smile back at him. If anything, the colorful feathers of his wings puff up as a frown forms on his face. He sets his hands on his hips, and gives Mumbo a look of disapproval.

“Oh dear, it’s your grumpy face. That can’t be a good sign.” Mumbo says, voice carrying nervousness. He can already feel himself sweating under Grian’s scrutinizing look.

“No Mumbo, it’s not a good sign.” Grian replies, his tone blatantly giving away his displeasure. Mumbo shrinks back under his gaze, and it causes Grian to sigh. He drops his hands from his hips as he moves to sit in the grass next to the teen.

Finding himself growing more and more nervous which each second that passes, Mumbo slowly sits up. Grian doesn’t speak immediately, fingers picking at the blades of grass instead.

“Your mother spoke to me today.” Grian suddenly starts, making Mumbo go still. “She told me you haven’t been er… ‘taking care’ of yourself.” His brows furrow, “Even though you have tons of blood available, you refuse to drink it.”

Mumbo winces. He had really hoped that Grian wouldn’t find out about that, considering he knows what his best friend is like. And he can’t just… tell him why. No no, that’d be mortifying.

But he knows Grian, he knows how he likes to push.

The thought alone makes Mumbo want to crawl into a hole.

Instead, he sighs quietly, lips tugging into a frown as he stammers, “I, erm, well uh…” Mumbo stops himself, biting the inside of cheek. Though he quickly regrets that decision, fangs and all. He resolves to meeting Grian’s eyes, “Look, Gri, I’m alright! I’ve just… sort of forgetting lately?” He cringes at the way he says it, and Grian lifts a brow.

“You’ve been forgetting.” Grian prompts.

“Yes.”

“Even though your family makes it a point to have it at dinner so that no one forgets.”

“Mhm, I guess I’m just too forgetful for them.”

“Yet you used to be on top of it, to the point you’d mark it out on your calendar.”

“Ah, well you know, it became too much work.”

The look Grian gives him is one dripping with disbelief, but unlucky for him, Mumbo has chosen this hill and he will die on it.

“Sooo, does this forgetfulness have anything to do with my blood?” Grian is quite blunt as he asks the question. So blunt in fact that it makes Mumbo jump.

“W-What?!” He mock shouts in surprise. He quickly realizes that that’s the exact reaction Grian wanted and he quickly coughs, “N-No! I have no idea what you mean!”

In turn, Grian sighs at him. “Mumbo, I’m not stupid. I can see the effects that avoiding blood has on you. Your mother is worried and so am I. You’re hurting yourself, and I just want to help. You haven’t been the same since er… that night.” He says, trying to prod at Mumbo gently. He doesn’t want to overstep, to make the other uncomfortable. He just wants him to be okay.

As Grian mentions that little incident, shame curdles in Mumbo’s gut. He’ll never forget the night he accidentally attacked his best friend. It was the worst night of his life, finally coming to with Grian limp and bleeding out in his arms.

He frowns, “I didn’t want to worry you of all people. Usually that’s the other way around, with all of the magic shenanigans you get up to.” Grian chuckles at that.

“So then what’s going on, huh? I know this isn’t your typical spoon behavior.” Grian questions, raising his brow.

“There’s no getting out of this one, is there?” Mumbo grumbles.

“Nope! So you better get talking or I’m filling your room with chickens again.” Grian threatens.

“No you’re not! I still have random feathers all over! I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve woken up with a feather in my mouth!” Mumbo wildly protests in return, making Grian cackle. Mumbo sighs, “Yes yes, I know you’re very proud of yourself for that one.” He frowns.

“It was your fault for falling asleep. You left me unattended.” Grian hums innocently.

“Biggest mistake of my life.” Mumbo sighs before getting serious again. “The truth is, — and you’re not allowed to laugh — animal blood just doesn’t… do it for me anymore.” He mutters, and he feels oddly embarrassed talking about this. “Ever since that… the vampiric side of me doesn’t want anything other than your blood.” Mumbo admits it, and he can feel his cheeks burning.

He doesn’t want to look at Grian’s face; so he doesn’t.

At least, not until Grian starts laughing.

“Hey! I said you weren’t allowed to laugh!” Mumbo scolds, and yet Grian’s laughter continues.

“S-Sorry! It’s just—” Grian takes a breath to calm himself. “Mumbo if that was all it was, you could’ve just asked! I don’t mind!” He says, and Mumbo stops.

“Do… do you hear yourself?” The vampire asks. “Truly hear yourself?”

Grian playfully rolls his eyes, “Yes, Mumbo. I’m not the spoon here.” He hums. “If you need to feed on my blood to oh, I don’t know, live, then that’s fine!” He even goes a step further, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to expose his wrist.

Mumbo hates how his heart leaps at the sight.

Grian holds his wrist out to him, “Here.”

Mumbo stares between the offered limb and Grian and he can’t bring himself to move. “I could hurt you.”

Grian doesn’t miss a beat, “You won’t.”

That sends a pang through Mumbo’s chest, “I have.”

Something in Grian’s gaze softens as he reaches out and takes Mumbo’s hand in his own, “I trust you.”

And that’s all the little pushing Mumbo needs. With shaky hands, he takes Grian’s wrist and holds it. He brings it up to his lips and very, very carefully, he sinks his fangs in.

#lonely dove au #grumbo #hermitshipping #cw blood #mochi writes #vampire!mumbo #wizard!grian #if it isn’t obvious they’re teens in this #rbs > likes

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littlemisssatanist · 2 years

Text

Small Peck - RuiKasa

—————

Tsukasa gets sick and Rui looks after him.

—————

Details

Non-con cheek kissing

Tsukasa questioning his sexuality

Sorry I've been gone for a while! Went on a little writing burnout :(

“Yeah, I won’t be able to make it to the rehearsal today.” Tsukasa coughed slightly, raising his hand to massage his sore throat. “I’m sick. I don’t want to endanger anyone else.”

“Are you sure?” Emu’s voice sounded concerned over the phone. “Would you like me to come over with some soup? It might help your throat.”

Tsukasa smiled tiredly. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok.” Emu said doubtfully. “Well, we’ll see you when you get better, which I hope will be soon.”

“Good bye.” Tsukasa said. “Have a good practice.”

He put the phone down, stumbling to bed. Truth be told, he was much more feverish than he let Emu know. His head hurt greatly, and it was hard to keep his eyes open.

Tsukasa would have greatly appreciated Emu’s soup; the girl was an excellent cook, but he didn’t want to trouble her.

He laid his head on the soft pillow and closed his eyes, seemingly only for a moment, but when he woke up the clock on his nightstand wrote 19:23.

The boy wanted to go back to sleep, but before he could drift off into the land of dreams, his door bell rang.

Tsukasa narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out who it could be. Saki was at the hospital once more, and he didn’t remember inviting any guests.

Begrudgingly, he dragged himself out of bed and went to answer the door. What he saw on the other side made him pause.

“Rui?” Tsukasa asked, confused.

The director stood across from him, smile wide on his face. His eyes seemed to twinkle with a look that reminded Tsukasa of whenever Rui got one of his insane ideas, and that alone made him weary.

“Hello, my little star.” Rui’s voice was smooth and melodic, and the alarms in Tsukasa’s heads started ringing. “I’m here on behalf of Emu.”

Rui pushed past the sick boy and took a look around before turning back to face Tsukasa. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” His almost sounded hurt.

Tsukasa closed his eyes to try to fight off an oncoming headache. “Emu told you?" (Curse Emu and her talkative personality).

“Hmm.” Rui sounded a lot closer than he was before, so Tsukasa immediately opened his eyes and jerked away. The sudden movement made his headache come back in full force, and his eyesight went black for a second.

He stumbles, and Rui reaches out to grab him by the arm to keep him from falling over.

“Are you ok?” Rui asks, Tsukasa’s vision still swimming. “You look rather pale.”

Tsukasa mumbled something under his breath, but all he could really focus on was how close he was to the director. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing fast, and hoped to whatever gods existed that Rui couldn’t feel it too.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Tsukasa heard Rui say, and felt him place a hand on his back, guiding the sick boy back to his room.

His head hit the pillow once more and he let out a sigh of relief and pleasure. Rui chuckled next to him, reaching to place a cool hand against his hot cheek. Tsukasa let out a breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Rui moved his hand up, brushing a stray strand of sunset-colored hair from Tsukasa’s face.

“I’ll make something to eat for you.” He said softly, and Tsukasa could feel himself lulling back to sleep.

When he woke up again, the smell of onions was the first thing he noticed. It was intoxicating, and his stomach rumbled.

“You’re awake already?” Rui’s voice came from the doorway, and Tsukasa raised his head to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed with a smirk pasted onto his stupid pretty face.

“How long was I asleep?” Tsukasa asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Rui glanced at the clock. “About two hours. I’ve made some onion soup.”

Tsukasa got out of bed, and Rui came to his aid at once, holding him upright and walking him to the kitchen. He tried not to think too much about it.

The soup was good, even if it was slightly unusual. Then again, Rui was nothing if not unusual. He watched Tsukasa eat with sharp eyes, following his every move.

“Uhm… it’s delicious, thank you.” Tsukasa said uncomfortably, placing the spoon onto the bowl.

Rui smiled, standing up to take the bowl and taking it to the kitchen sink. Tsukasa stood up, fidgeting with his fingers. The director came back to stand in front of him, lifting a hand to feel Tsukasa’s forehead.

“You look a lot better now.” He muses.

Tsukasa nods. “I think my temperature has gone down.”

“That’s good.” Rui smiles.

Tsukasa thinks for a moment, not noticing how Rui’s eyes linger on his lips, before moving back up to gaze at him. “Well, that means you can go now, right?”

Rui blinks. “Hmm, I suppose.”

“Great!”

The faster he left, the better. Tsukasa didn't know if he could stand the atmosphere one more second. He all but pushed Rui out of his house, but the director manages to grip the doorway before Tsukasa can shut the door.

“Wait just a moment!” He says, and Tsukasa pauses.

Rui swoops down and presses a soft kiss to Tsukasa’s cheek, then withdraws and gives him a wave.

Tsukasa stands frozen in shock as Rui leaves, trembling hand raising to touch his face. “H-huh?!”

His scream resonates in the night.

#pjsekai #project sekai #ruikasa #rui kamishiro #tsukasa tenma #Rui Kamishiro x Tsukasa Tenma #fluff #projct sekai fluff

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i-call-me-clarence · 1 month

Text

Hey so I was wondering if anyone on here had similar stomach problems to what I have currently. It’s not a stomach flu (it’s been progressively getting worse since an incident I’ll explain under the cut) but it has gotten A LOT worse lately. So if you have gastrointestinal problems I would really appreciate if you’d read under the cut and tell me if anything sounds familiar. And before people go off, I know this does not replace a doctors visit. I’m extremely poor (no job ((thanks business partner for kicking me out of the BHR biz because you fucking lost the plot)) and am relying on family and friends just to survive at this point) so a doctors visit is possibly even a year away.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Forced Starvation, the effects of starvation, gastrointestinal issues, mentions of vomit

Anyways here’s what’s going on:

Okay so backstory. I was forcibly starved seven years ago which over three months caused me to go from 160 to 100 pounds. The last month I had no food at all, just water and Gatorade. When I was finally able to escape the situation and ya know, eat again, I found it to be extremely painful. My dad was an army medic so fed me liquids at first and then mashed potatoes and fruits and some weird bar thing he’d put in water that would make it like a very think porridge thing I can’t remember what it was called. Even the Gatorade hurt. Badly.

I had access to weed and it helped immensely with my stomach issues ((wasn’t throwing up, little to no pain)). But then my situation changed and I could no longer afford it. The past two years I’ve had very little to no weed at all. I noticed almost immediately that my stomach problems were back with a vengeance. Things got progressively worse until one day I drank some vodka (I know, bad idea with stomach problems but I was very desperate and it did numb my stomach and in that moment it’s literally all I cared about)). And then before bed I took two baby aspirin ((I know I know bad idea again)). I woke up about six hours after taking the aspirin and threw up, which was normally how I wake up I doubt it had much to do with the vodka. But when I looked at what I’d thrown up, I saw the aspirin tablets. Completely undisolved after six hours in my stomach which had vodka in it. They were not coated in anything I could easily crush them into dust. I put aspirin into vodka as an experiment and it dissolved quickly. Put it in water and same thing. I still have no idea wtf if happening in my stomach.

After that incident I noticed all my throw up tasted exactly like when it was still food. I don’t think I’m digesting really anything and it’s taking up to eight or ten hours for my stomach to empty into my intestines. Things started to get worse, I threw up after almost every meal. And I started gagging whenever I coughed too. Like even clearing my throat makes me almost puke now. This has NEVER happened before and also when I brush my teeth this doesn’t happen at all.

Last December I had the worst pain I’d ever had after I ate a meal. It felt like a ball of razor blades in my stomach and my stomach felt hard as a rock if you put your hand over it. I was delirious with pain and just screaming and crying.

I started drinking pickle juice ((like a lot)) with every meal and that seemed to help up to February, when I started throwing up food that tasted like when I ate it again, no matter how much pickle juice I drank. So I switched to mainly ensures and soups. I was doing okayish, still in pain, but it wasn’t as bad. Then the weight loss really got out of control.

So I had gained some weight due to the weed so I was at about 165. Cutting out weed due to expense put me down to 160. No big deal. From February to today (April 6th) I have lost 30 pounds. Most of it in March. I came to my parents house two weeks ago. After the first week of my dad basically force feeding me tons of food I had gained five pounds. This was only possible because I started chewing benedryl before eating so my stomach was numb. I’m eating the same amount of food now, but am back to 130 and I have no idea why. I haven’t thrown up recently (since starting the benedryl trick in late March). Why tf am I still losing weight??? Also for reference I’m 5’10 so 130 makes me look like a skeleton (I hate everyone who keeps telling me how good I look, you can see all my ribs and my torso looks like a normal torso that got flattened). I’m weak all the time, my fibromyalgia is ten times worse. I’m just suffering so much rn and can’t go to a doc about it. Anyone have any ideas or similar experiences?

#gastrointestinal problems #extreme weight loss #help #starvation

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carters-things · 2 years

Text

Sick Days

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt taking care of you when you're sick

Warnings: None, just a bit of fluff

a/n: I am discovering as much as I love writing these I'm not nearly as gifted at writing as everyone else lol so I apologize for the lack of description, i have no clue how to write without it sounding weird. so enjoy this little oneshot of Matt just being gentle with you.

Masterlist

As Matt comes home he places his cane by the door and glasses on the side table. “Y/N?” he calls out. He is normally met at the door by you running up and wrapping your hands around his neck followed by an attack of kisses but today it was just him. Searching the apartment he hears your heart beating faster than normal but your breathing is steady. Matt finds you on the couch asleep in a ball. Sinking down onto the edge of the sofa he gently starts rubbing your back, slowly waking you up so as to not scare you. A deep cough comes from your lungs as you start to regain consciousness. “Oh honey…” Matt says softly brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you ok?”

“I’ve been better” you muster up between coughs, not even opening your eyes to look at Matt. He pauses for a second, with his hand resting on your back between your shoulder blades then moving to your forehead.

“Your lungs sound clear but you’re burning up. Have you eaten yet?”

“No.. I haven’t done much of anything” you groan trying to find a position that doesn’t hurt your aching rib cage. The couch returns to its position in the absence of Matt as he leaves to go to the kitchen. You hear him start rustling around, the clanging of pans and bowls as you fade back in and out of sleep. What feels like 5 minutes pass when Matt places a gentle kiss on the side of your temple when he comes back with a bowl of soup and some ibuprofen, and a cold wet cloth. “Sit up sweetheart” he whispers to you as he helps guide your legs to the floor and steady yourself in a sitting position. The simple movement of sitting up is enough to make the whole world spin around you. He places the cool towel on the back of your neck and that helps ground your spinning feeling.

“I feel like I got hit by a bus. How do you do this every night!”

“You learn to live with it” He laughs you off. “Where does it hurt?”

“Where doesn’t it hurt..” you groan. “It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. My lungs are on fire and the excessive coughing is causing my ribs to ache. The sinus pain and headache make it seem like my face is going to explode… and the chills are just the icing on the cake.”

“Here take this. It’ll help with the pain and bring your fever down.” He gives you the ibuprofen and you choke it down with some soup. Your stomach turns when the food hits it. You don’t know how long it's been since you have had something to eat, your stomach doesn’t know what to do with the sudden nutrients. You slowly take bites, giving the food time to settle and allowing you to catch your breath.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to get you sick..” your voice cracks as you start coughing again.

“Well I can’t just leave a beautiful woman helpless on my couch now can I?” he smirks. “Come on. You need to get into bed.” Matt takes the bowl and sets it on the coffee table as he wraps his arm around your waist and helps you stand to your feet.

“I don’t feel very good…” You say practically turning green.

“It’s ok. Take a breath- we’ll take it slow”. Has hand rubbing circles under your shirt on your lower back. Your skin burns under the touch of his calloused fingers, but the gentleness of hands is soothing.

“Don’t get too handsy there Mr. Murdock, no taking advantage of me tonight”

“I wouldn’t dare!” he scoffs, placing a kiss on your cheek.

Matt leads you slowly to the bedroom as you sit gingerly on the side of the bed. You pull back the sheets and roll into the pillows stiffly, closing your eyes to help with the spinning sensation. You feel the bed move moments later from Matt climbing in the other side. He settles in pulling you close to his shirtless chest. You try to fight him on it to keep him from getting sick but your fragile self is no match for his strength. His skin is so warm and the rise and fall of his chest and his steady heartbeat is enough to loosen the tension in your body.

“I’ve got you y/n. Just rest.” he says as he pulls the comforter up over you, placing a lingering kiss on the top of your head, taking in the smell of you. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other running his fingers up your jaw into your hair.

“You need to go out tonight, don’t worry about me.” you say slowly fading into sleep.

“Shhh.. I don’t care what happens in Hell’s Kitchen tonight. My priority tonight is you.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil x reader #fanfic #matt murdock x yn #carteranne

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rek1s-headband · 3 years

Text

Break up prank on the sk8 boys

➯ Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa, Cherry, Joe, Miya and Shadow x gn reader

➯ Warnings: none, just some angst to fluff. Enjoy!

Reki:

He thought it was a joke at first

Like you, he watched his fair share of videos, and had seen the trend going around already

But you weren’t discouraged, you were going to try and make him believe it no matter what

He laughed it off the first time, but after you simply gave him a puzzled look and a “huh?”, he felt his heart pick up significantly. Maybe you weren’t joking??

Instantly he was running back in his mind where he could’ve possibly gone wrong, where he could’ve messed up so badly that you felt the need to leave?

After his nervous laugh died down, he went deadly silent

“You’re serious?”

You were starting to feel awful, like maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but you decided to persist

When you nodded your head slowly, you could’ve died when you saw how quickly his face dropped

Even though he had a small smile on his face, you could see the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He was running a shaky hand through his hair, and when you were ready to take him into your arms, to tell him you were only kidding, he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgeways

A flood of questions was suddenly leaving his moth, all his unvoiced questions coming out in one go. He was holding your hand now in an almost death grip, asking you why you were unhappy, why you wanted to leave

Why he wasn’t good enough for you

That’s all you needed before you were pulling him into your arms, sobbing yourself. This shut him up, he was completely speechless as your tears pooled on his shoulder, telling him you were so sorry, that you were only joking. You just wanted to see him get a little panicky, you never expected the outcome to look like this

As soon as the words left your mouth you saw his shoulders visibly drop, pulling you impossibly closer as he let the last of his tears out. He chuckled shakily, running a hand up your back.

“I thought I lost you for a second there”

That was when you pulled your head out of his shoulder, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him closer to you. Eyes wide, he simply watched as you declared he could never lose you, that you weren’t going anywhere. You were stuck to him like glue, whether he likes it or not

He gave you one last relieved smile, before he was pulling you close again for a desperate kiss. He kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, because now that he’d thought he lost you, he was never going to take anything about you for granted again

Langa:

Was fully convinced you were serious right off the bat

Right as the words “I think we should break up” were leaving your lips, his brain was doing overtime trying to figure put how he hadn’t realised how unhappy you were. Sure, he was kind of bad at reading emotions, but surely he wasn’t so terrible he couldn’t figure out how his own s/o was feeling?

Was he really as bad at communication as people told him he was?

You instantly regretted your decision as you watched his mouth hang open, saw his eyes scrunch slightly as he wrung his hands quietly at his sides

He nodded, and you couldn’t seem to swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes locked on the small tear rolling down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away with a small smile

“If thats what will make you happy”

You couldn’t seem to collect your thoughts as you watched him step closer to you, dropping his head to your level as he grabbed your hand. It was soft, as if he didn’t want to hurt you any more than he thought he had. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right ones to say. Eventually he just took a deep breath, and looked into your eyes

“Were you really that unhappy?” Your heart broke when you heard the crack in his voice towards the end. “How did I not notice how sad you were?” Tears were falling down his face again and he didn’t even bother wiping them away this time. Suddenly you were shooting forward, grabbing his shoulders as you began to cry

“You’ve never made me unhappy Langa, not once.” You saw his wide eyes stare at you, not even attempting to reply as he watched you continue. “It was a joke, Langa. I wanted to see how you’d react, I didn’t think you’d take it this seriously. Did you really think you made me unhappy? Ive never been happier than when I’m with you-“ you barely got to finish before he was wrapping you in his arms, his grip vicelike. His face was digging into your shoulder, clinging to you as if you’d disappear any second.

His breath was ragged and shaky as he pulled you even closer, making sure there was absolutely no room for you to escape. You ran your hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down as he slowly emerged from your shoulder

With a small chuckle, he rubbed the side of your face with his hand, letting his head drop slightly as he let out a sigh of relief

“I really thought I was ignoring my own s/o’s feelings.” You laughed, pulling him into another hug

“If I’m ever upset, I’ll let you know. Just know it wont be for quite a while” you grinned, grabbing his collar to pull him into a kiss. It was sweet, and gentle, and you felt all your previous problems melt away as Langa pulled you closer, smiling into the kiss

Cherry:

You and Kaoru rarely fought, and when you did it was over minor things that were reconciled within a day. So when you were sitting him down, asking if he’d be okay with breaking up, the only thing he could feel was complete confusion.

What happened? You’d always been so happy, never expressing much discontent. And besides, whenever you did it was resolved as soon as possible. What was so different today?

What was making you so unhappy that you felt the relationship was beyond saving?

Or worse, what outside your relationship was making you happier than him?

He kept these thoughts to himself, coughing quietly to try and open up his throat that seemed to be impossibly tight at that moment. He held your hand, stroking it softly and nodding before looking up at you

“Why the sudden change of heart, hm?”

The small smile on Kaoru’s face that was slowly diminishing by the second made you want to melt into the ground. Even when you were asking him to leave, he was still so caring, still so loving. You could only watch, feeling your heart break as he looked at you, his eyes glassy as he quickly plastered the fakest smile you’ve ever seen onto his face

“Well, if you’re unhappy when you’re with me, surely we shouldn’t be together.” He let out a small, breathy laugh that was almost missed by you, if you hadn’t been watching him with such avid horror. “I dont know why you feel you aren’t happy anymore, sweetheart, but I’m glad you realised what you want.” You watched him stand without a word, as you slowly realised that this is real.

He thinks this is real

That was all you needed before you were leaping off the couch, practically turning it over with the force you’d pushed off it. You were shouting his name, grabbing him by the arm and absolutely dragging him to face you. With the sudden turn and shock, you both ended up on the floor as you began to babble, words pouring out of your mouth and tears streaming from your eyes

“Kaoru, of course I’m not unhappy, you always know just how to make me happy, I could never leave you!” You were jumping on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he sat up, a hand on your back and the other pulling your hair back from your face, trying to find any trace of a lie on your face

“Are you serous? It was all...” he was speechless. He didn’t realise you would even pull something like that, much less go so far with it

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you sobbed. “I never meant for it to go this far. I just wanted to see you get a little worked up, pull a funny prank, nothing else, i prom-“ you were cut off when Kaoru pushed his lips onto yours, breath shaky as he ran his hand through your hair, as if you were going to disappear any second and he was making sure you were still there

When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a small laugh

“Don’t ever pull that shit again”

Joe:

When you first brought it up with him, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Surely you weren’t serious, right?

He kept a smile quirked on his lips, a questioning look in his eyes. Still, you kept a face of steel, as if challenging him to ask if you were joking

As worried as he was, he wasn’t sure you were being serious. Something about it wasn’t..genuine? You looked too straight-faced, your expression staying neutral the whole time as if to not give something away. He was certain he hadn’t done enough to make you this delighted about breaking up, so why were you so unaffected?

The cogs were turning in his brain, all arrows pointing towards one of two directions: either he was a massive dick, or it was a prank

Oh. A prank

Of course, he wasn’t certain, but it would certainly explain quite a bit

So he decided on a plan. It wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to do, but if it was a prank, it was a nice way for him to get you back for the little skit you pulled. And if it wasn’t a prank, well, maybe it’ll take the sting away a little

His mouth quickly dropped to a frown, ready to put his plan into action. “Oh yeah? Well, thats a bit of a relief.” He had to try hard to hide his grin when he saw your eyebrows furrow, saw the frown begin to spread across your face. So maybe it was a prank. You could only watch as he continued his speech

“You see, I’ve been thinking about ending things for a while now. There was a girl at S I met a few weeks back, and man, you should’ve seen the eyes she’s been giving me. Anyways, I’ve taken a real liking to her, and Ive been thinking about giving things with her a shot. Of course, now it shouldn’t be a bother, right?”

When he saw your face contort from confusion to anger, he knew he’d fucked up severely. Suddenly you were getting up close to his face, prank forgotten, poking him in the chest as you began to shout

“Are you serious!? After all we’ve been through together, you’re just gonna leave me for some bitch you met a few weeks ago??” You were fuming at this point, while Joe watched you with with a look of mock confusion

“What’s your problem? You were the one who wanted to “break up”, right?” Something about the way he said ‘break up’ made you freeze, looking up at him as you watched a grin begin to form on Joe’s face. That bastard

“You...you asshole!” You were lost for words. He knew this whole time? And instead of enlightening you, he decided to play along? You watched with a blank expression as Joe laughed, pulling you into a hug

“I knew it” he let out a loud laugh, but it almost seemed forced. You pulled away, and when you tried to look at him his eyes seemed to be everywhere but you. You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you

“You didn’t think id actually want to break up, did you?” When he simply frowned, pulling his eyes away again you cooed, pulling him into your chest as you stroked his hair, feeling his arms slowly wrap around your waist and hold you close

It’s safe to say the two of you stayed like that for quite a while

Shadow:

When you asked him to break up as a joke, you simply wanted to see if you could piss him off. Hiromi was prone to getting mad at the smallest things, cursing up a storm when he did something as small as mess up his makeup

So when you saw his face break, felt him shrink in on himself as he asked you why, what had he done that made you want to leave, your face was frozen with shock

Now this was completely new. Of course, you knew Hiromi wasn’t just some big angry man, but you didn’t think he’d get this worked up

Brows furrowed, he brought a hand to his forehead as he let out a long breath

“What happened?” Those two words held so much emotion it almost made you break. You didn’t realise how much this would affect him, just how upset it would make him. But here he was, an emotional wreck as he wiped an almost-tear away from the edge of his eye

But soon after, he was stepping close to you, grabbing your hand and looking at you with all the sincerity in the world

“Please, give me another chance. I dont know what I did, but I do know we can fix it. I know we can, please y/n. I cant lose you”

His heartfelt speech was all you needed for the tears to slowly fall from your eyes, Hiromi looking at you with a look of concern, and confusion. You were stepping into his arms, crying silently as he hesitantly put his arms around you, not quite sure what to do. So was that a yes?

You picked your head off his shoulder, not moving from his arms

“Oh, Hiromi” he looked down at you, concern washing over his face once more. “It was only a prank, I’m so sorry.”

Now he wasn’t just upset, but relieved. A bit of anger was in there somewhere, but that could be overlooked for now. He let out a loud laugh, hugging you so tightly you could’ve sworn you felt at least 3 of your ribs break

“And what made you think that was a funny thing to do?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, not letting you out of his death grip. You simply shrugged, burying yourself deeper into his chest. He smiled, his knees practically buckling after the whole ordeal

He held you at arms length, a frown on his face. You felt a twinge of panic, maybe he wouldn’t forgive you?

This thought was quickly forgotten when he barked out a loud laugh. He dropped his face to your level, putting his hands on your shoulders

“Pull something like that again, and I swear you’ll give me a heart attack”

Miya:

Miya has never been one for properly expressing his emotions, so when you walked up to him one day and asked him to break up, he simply frowned. He didn’t let it on, but his world was very quickly caving in around him

Keeping a neutral expression, he sighed and nodded his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now

When you gave him a confused look from his lack of a verbal response, he really had to try to not walk out of that room there and then. You break up with him, and then expect him to just take it and walk away with a smile??

When you continued to look at him expectantly, he just let out a breath, turning away from you. “Fine. Whatever. If thats really what you want then so be it” he was kicking himself for being so blunt, but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t think, his lungs felt too small, too cramped

And now you were going to leave just like everyone else had

You tried to put your hand on his shoulder, calling his name quietly. He simply shrugged you off, dipping his head so you wouldn’t see the tears that were quickly collecting in his eyes. You’d just dumped him, the last thing he needed was you seeing him cry. You didn’t give up, asking him why he wouldn’t just look at you. Still not facing you, he attempted to talk again

“What more is there to discuss? You want to leave, so go. I’m not going to stop you if its what you want.” The crack in his voice at the end of his sentence broke your heart, and you were quickly turning him around, with more force this time, so he was forced to look you in the eyes

“Do you really think I’d leave that easily? It was a prank, you dumbass.” His head was buzzing with thoughts, why the hell would you do that? So you dont actually want to leave? You’re still gonna stay with him? You-

His thoughts were interrupted by you flicking his forehead. His hands flew to his head, letting out a cry. First you pretend to dump him, and now you have the audacity to flick him?

However, it did serve its purpose of pulling him out of his thoughts, and you were quickly pulling him into a hug while you stroked his hair. Before long you felt your shoulder grow wet with tears, the occasional sniffle leaving him. You laughed, holding him close as you tilted his chin to look at you

“I’m not going anywhere, as much as you might like me to. You’re stuck with me for a while longer, Miya Chinen.” He looked away from you, clicking his teeth

“Shut up..” he was mumbling, but there was so mistaking how hard he was gripping your clothes, as if you might try to leave again. But like you said, you weren’t going anywhere for quite some time

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skyward-floored · 2 years

Text

Whumptober day 22 — Allergic reaction, (toxic)

No I didn’t forget today’s, I’ve been busy and sick so wheeeee Here you go. Fic of questionably good quality, the next couple ones will likely be the same

I tried to make sure I was accurate with my medical stuff in this one, but I’m... not a doctor. So take everything with a grain of salt. Thank goodness for red potion

Warnings: trouble breathing, choking, (allergic reaction) a broken rib

Ao3 link

————————————————————

The moment the potion went down his throat, Warriors knew something wasn’t right.

He was a bit out of it due to having been trampled by a horse with a bokoblin on its back, it’s hooves not only bruising him, but breaking a rib which made even just breathing pure agony. But even in his pain-addled brain he knew something wasn’t right with the potion being tilted down his throat.

It tasted wrong. Not at all the way a red potion should taste, too bitter, with a strange sour note... he refused to drink it. Warriors turned his head and tried to spit it out, but Twilight didn’t let him, assuming he was choking due to difficulty swallowing with the pain from his rib.

“Come on there cap, you’ve got to drink this,” he said gently, still tilting the potion. “You’ll feel much better once you do.”

Warriors tried to turn his head again but Twilight caught him and held him up so he had no choice but to swallow the thing, a tingling sensation following it down his throat.

“There you go,” Twilight said, looking relieved. “You should feel better in a couple of minutes.”

Warriors wheezed a bit, trying to choke it back up, but the potion was already firmly in his stomach, and he was too weak to try and make himself vomit. This was not good, he needed it out of his system, it was all wrong sitting in his stomach, the tingling in his throat only growing, and he let out a raspy whimper at the feel of it.

“Is he okay?” he heard Legend ask as he walked up. “Think I heard the crack all the way back from where I was.”

“He should be,” Twilight assured, and Warriors let out a small gasp.

Legend looked down at him at the noise, and raised an eyebrow, intently studying his face. Warriors tried to say something, but his throat wasn’t having it, and all he could do was meet Legend’s eyes and hope he’d understand there was more amiss than just his rib.

“You sure about that?,” Legend said in response to Twilight’s words. “He’s still looking a bit off.”

Twilight looked down at Warriors again, and the captain couldn’t help his pained wheeze as he felt the urge to cough. The rancher’s face turned concerned again, the relief that had been there quickly gone.

“He had a potion, it should’ve healed him by now. Are you feeling any better captain?” he asked worriedly.

Warriors could barely manage to shake his head, throat burning and breath feeling a bit uncertain in his lungs. His rib was still very much broken, the red potion seemingly totally ineffective, and he sucked in a breath, feeling too winded to speak.

Legend’s face went from one of mild worry to actual concern when he saw the discomfort Warriors was obviously still in, and he got to a knee beside him, eyeing him carefully.

“Captain, where does it hurt?” he asked in a sharp voice, and Warriors raised a hand to gesture helplessly at his ribs, then throat. Legend raised an eyebrow at the latter, and as he leaned over to check on it, Twilight began fishing in his bag.

“It doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with his neck, but it’s obviously bothering him, what could...”

Warriors suddenly felt his throat begin to close up, and soon he was gasping and coughing in order to breathe, which only made his still-broken rib feel worse.

“Oh— Windfish, rancher get over here, he’s having trouble breathing,” Legend said in a panicked voice, and Twilight quickly kneeled next to Warriors again. They loosened his collar and scarf from his neck as he continued to struggle for breath, and Warriors let out a miserable wheeze.

“What’s wrong with him?!” Wind suddenly asked, joining their sides. Twilight made a helpless gesture, and Wind slid to his knees, giving Warriors a wide-eyed look.

“I don’t know, I thought it was just his rib and now he’s choking on thin air, it doesn’t make any—“ Legend began in a frustrated voice, then cut off, and looked at the empty bottle Twilight was still holding.

“Wait. Where did you get that red potion rancher?” Legend quickly asked, and Twilight blinked as Warriors tried to breathe in another choked breath.

The other heroes had gathered around Warriors now, the battle finished. They were all giving him various looks of panicked concern, which wasn’t helping with Warriors’ own barely held-back fear. He dragged in another breath, and tried not to let his panic break free as he felt his throat only get tighter as more time went on.

It was the potion, he wanted to shout, but could only wheeze. There was something wrong with it!

“I got it from Wild, he brewed it himself, right?” Twilight asked the champion, and Wild nodded. “Technically it wasn’t even a red potion, it was a Hearty Elixir, which has basically the same effects.”

“...but different ingredients,” Legend suddenly realized, and looked down at Warriors. “It was the potion, wasn’t it? There must be something in it that’s making this happen, that stopped it from healing him and is wrecking his throat.”

Wild looked stricken.

“I put all sorts of things into those, and almost never the exact same stuff each time,” he said frantically, clutching his bangs. “Hearty radishes, hearty durians, hearty lizards...”

“Lizards?!”

“Could somebody have slipped something into it when we weren’t looking?” Time said, tilting Warriors up so he could breathe a bit better. “Poison?”

They all paused at that, and Warriors let out another agonized cough.

“Well... If it’s poison I won’t be able to do anything, but I can get his rib fixed at least.” Hyrule murmured, putting a gently glowing hand on Warrior’s side.

Warriors felt a soft, bubbly sensation ripple up his chest, and despite the fact that he could still barely breathe, he felt a good deal better than he had been. He took a semi-deep breath, but his throat was still too tight for him to easily take in any air. At least it didn’t hurt his ribs anymore.

Wind suddenly smacked his forehead, making everyone look at him.

“I’m so stupid!” he cried. “I know what this is! He’s having an allergic reaction! I get them if I eat certain stuff too, look at how his throat and face are all red and swelling!”

Legend looked back at Warriors’ neck, and his expression turned to one of realization as he studied him.

“Yeah, definitely an allergic reaction of some kind,” he said, shaking his head. “How did I not see that?”

“But what’s he reacting to?” Four spoke up, arms crossed. “It could have been any of those things Wild said.”

“I don’t think it really matters right now, point is, he’s still having trouble breathing!” Twilight interrupted, and they all looked a bit sheepish for getting off track.

“So how do we help him?” Sky said in a worried voice, watching as Warriors continued to struggle.

“Well, um... I usually have to sip some red potion to fix it for me,” Wind said nervously. “Not too much, but if it’s what’s making him react in the first place... I don’t know if we should.”

“Captain?” Legend addressed him, and Warriors took in another wheezing breath. He was starting to feel light-headed, and his throat was itchy now too, and he raised a weak hand to scratch at it. “Do you want us to try another potion? It won’t be one of the champion’s, so it should be okay.”

Warriors swallowed, then suddenly his breath truly did get stuck in his throat, and he breathed in a panicked breath, barely getting any air in.

He met Legend’s gaze and choked, managing a nod. He was nearly on the verge of passing out, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t be able to drink anything if he was unconscious; if he passed out the other’s options would be extremely limited.

Legend nodded and grabbed the red potion that Twilight handed over, and Time held Warriors up a bit more. The veteran looked visibly nervous, but his hands were steady as he popped the cork and carefully pressed the bottle to Warrior’s lips. He made sure only a thin trickle went down his throat, but Warriors choked on it anyway, flecks of red spluttering out.

But some of it must have made it down, because slowly and agonizingly, Warriors felt his throat begin to loosen, and his breathing began to come easier.

He raised a hand to put on the bottle himself, and tilted more of the potion down his throat, inwardly sighing in relief as he felt the swelling go down. He relaxed into Time’s arms, and felt Wind give his hand a squeeze.

“Well there we go, that did it,” Legend said, sounding relieved.

“And thank the goddesses it did,” Warriors croaked, and the veteran gave him a relieved look.

Wild came forward then, looking equally ashamed and determined.

“I’m so sorry captain, I had no clue you were allergic to anything,” he began quietly. “But I’m gonna fix this. You have any clue what might have set you off?”

Warriors gave a helpless shrug.

“I don’t know,” he croaked. “I think I’ve eaten all that stuff you said before, the radishes and stuff.... minus the lizards, and... maybe those durry things you said?”

“You mean the durians?” Wild asked, and Warriors nodded.

“Never even heard of them.”

Wild nodded. “Well then they’re off the menu. I’ll figure out which potions I’ve brewed have them in there too, don’t worry about a thing captain. This’ll never happen again, I’ll make sure of it.”

Warriors smiled a bit as he slowly sat up by himself, and put a hand on Wild’s arm

“At ease champion, it was an accident. It’s not your fault, alright?” he said sternly, and Wild hesitated, then lowered his head with a nod, cheeks a bit red.

The others moved away to give Warriors a bit of space since the danger had passed, checking up on their own injuries from the battle. Wild stayed close though, and Wind sat down next to him, resting his head on the captain’s arm.

Warriors breathed slowly in and then out, his throat still not entirely normal, a little tight and sore.

But he could breathe. Which was a marked improved from five minutes ago.

He looked down at Wind, who was idly fiddling with his scarf, and gave him a small nudge. The sailor looked up, and Warriors carefully cleared his throat.

“That was... a bit terrifying, sailor... how do you deal with it?” he asked quietly, and Wind shrugged.

“I avoid the stuff I can’t eat. If I’m not sure about food I skip on it, and I try to make sure I’ve always got some red potion on me,” he listed off. “I don’t think you need to worry as much, since durians aren’t very common,” he finished with a smile.

Warriors nodded. “Thanks kiddo, I’ll keep all that in mind.”

He ruffled Wind’s hair, and the sailor batted his hand away, but he looked happy to have helped. Warriors leaned down against him, and took another deep breath, enjoying every bit of air that went into his lungs.

Allergic to durians. Who would’ve thought?

...thank Hylia it hadn’t become common knowledge during the war.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu warriors #lu wind #all the links #lu fic #whumptober2022 #day 22 #toxic #allergic reaction #writing from the floor #this is soooo messy but I am sooooo not up to making it better #so! enjoy or whatever #I’m off to figure out what the heck I’m writing tomorrow (and the day after and the day after that)

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illicitlimerence-writes · 3 years

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close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #marvel #mcu #avengers imagine

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)

REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission

ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too

ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on

WORDS: 3506

A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)

“What happened this time ?”

Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.

More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.

The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.

“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.

“Do you feel any pain ?”

He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.

“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.

“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.

When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.

“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”

She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.

“No drugs,” He told her.

“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”

“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”

She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.

“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”

He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.

“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”

She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.

“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.

She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”

He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.

“How…”

“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”

She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Thank you, doc”

She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.

“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”

“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”

She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.

“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”

When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.

“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t know” He admitted.

She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.

“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.

He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”

It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.

The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.

“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.

She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.

She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.

“Water” She managed to whisper.

He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s alright”

“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.

“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”

“You touched me,” He explained.

“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.

“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”

Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.

“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.

“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.

He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.

“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.

He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”

This time she laughed.

“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.

He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.

“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”

“Neither do you”

He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.

“I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.

The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.

When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.

“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.

“More than alright, doc” He teased her.

The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.

He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.

“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”

Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.

“Go right ahead, doc”

She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.

“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.

“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.

“You have no idea, doctor”

She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.

“Too much?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.

“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.

He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.

“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”

“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”

She coughed to try and hide her laugh.

“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”

“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”

She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.

“Don’t play with fire, soldier”

He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”

This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.

“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”

“Leave where ?” He asked.

“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”

“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”

She walked up to him and took his hands.

“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.

“What about you ?”

“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”

“I’ll hold you onto that”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.

“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”

“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”

He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.

“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.

He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.

“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.

The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.

“Did you know her ?” The person asked.

“Yeah”

The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.

“Bad memories ?” He inquired.

“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.

“What happened ?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”

The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.

“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.

He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.

“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”

His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.

“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.

The broken soldier silently nodded.

“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”

“Greece. I have a date in Greece”

Taglist below the cut

@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #fatws

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httpxmattsun · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Could I request NSFW Levi x Reader with the song In Your Eyes by The Weeknd? You totally have free reign here, and it can include whatever dark content on your list that inspires you if it goes that way!! Happy writing and thanks if you take this one in advance!!

a/n: the way I am literally so sorry for taking so long🥲i really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!

—In your eyes

Levi Ackerman

nsfw

summary: You were so used to sex without feelings with Levi, so used to him giving you nothing, that when he finally gave you something, you didn’t know what to do with it.

TW // CW: fwb, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, pretty vanilla tbh

wc: 1.7k

Levi Ackerman was no easy man to love.

You learned that pretty quickly at the beginning of your relationship. How he only ever seemed to seek out your comfort at the dark hours of midnight. How he’d never kiss you, claiming it was too intimate for, ‘people who just fuck’. Or how he’d never waste a second in leaving your apartment as soon as he was done with his business.

Leaving you, naked and empty on the cold and dirty bed. You knew Levi Ackerman was no easy man to love. So why were you so deeply, and hopelessly in love with him? Why were you so hurt knowing that—while you saw him as a wonderful man with regrets, pain and exhaustion, he only ever saw you as a stress reliever.

It hurt. You weren’t going to sit there and lie to yourself. It hurt so much that you physically felt your heart breaking every time he’d climb out of your bed and left without a word. It hurt so much because you wanted him to stay, tell you about his worries, fears, dark secrets. Anything. But all you received was his cold eyes that held no love for anyone. It hurt, but you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You only hoped that one day you’d be strong enough to leave him.

But that day wouldn’t be tonight. Tonight will be another night where you let Levi abuse and use your body for his pleasure.

His lips were soft, delicate even, tracing across every inch of your skin, as if savoring your taste. It felt good, having his warm lips kiss your body, something you never really felt before.

He’s been playing with your cunt for what felt like hours, pulling orgasm after orgasms out of you with his fingers and mouth alone. Leaving hickeys on your thighs, hips, stomach, chest, anywhere he could latch onto. It’s a side you’ve never seen of him, usually, he’d just bend you over and fuck you till he was content. Groping every inch of your skin as if you were nothing more than a sex toy with warm flesh. You never had a problem with the way you both had sex, until you slowly started to fall in love with him.

But tonight was different. He took his time with you, ravishing in your taste, leaving every part of you untouched. It felt good, it felt too good.

“Levi, please.” You whine, gripping at his damp hair. His mouth currently occupied with your tit, swirling and flicking his tongue across your hard nipple and circling around the bumps of your areola. His other hand was buried in your drooling cunt, massaging your walls so deeply, yet so delicately.

“Don’t be so impatient, baby.” He growls, biting your nipple, hard. You hissed at that, hand going to pull at his roots. Yet, the temporary pain of the bite was long forgotten. All you could think of was the way the nickname “baby” rolled off his tongue. Your body shuddered under his, brows furrowed in pleasure as you let you body relax, taking everything he was offering.

“So pretty” He moans against your ear, goosebumps forming on your skin as his warm breath fanned against your face. He placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing firm circles onto the hard nub, middle and ring finger not faltering as he continued to expertly rub you in all the right places, it was euphoric. You let out a high pitch moan as you dug your nails into his forearm, causing him to let out a hiss at the stinging pain.

You wanted him inside you, desperately. All the foreplay felt like heaven but nothing could beat his thick and veiny cock rubbing deliciously against your velvety walls. It always managed to leave you brain dead.

“Please, I’ve been good, please put it in” you whine, eyes teary as you beg the man to finally give you what you want.

“S’ what you want? Want my cock that badly baby?” He coos, giving you a fake smile of sympathy.

“Yes, want it so bad,” You probably looked pathetic in his eyes, begging for his cock as if It would save your life. But you didn’t care, not when his rough hands slipped past his briefs, pulling his leaking cock out and giving it a few pumps. You felt your cunt gush at the sight alone.

Instinctively, you spread your legs, giving him more space to rest between him. He ran his cock head along your labia and clit, spreading the wetness all over you and coating himself. He let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wetness.

“But I’m having so much fun,” He fake pouts, hand reaching down to pinch you clit, making you bite your and arch your back as you let out a pained whimper.

“Stop teasing,” you cry out, hand reaching for his own to get him to stop.

“So impatient,” He grunts, damp forehead resting against yours as he guided his leaking cock at your entrance, making you sigh in relief.

Slowly, he pushed himself in. It was so much different than the other times he’d fuck you. Usually, he’d waste no time in pushing in and hammering into you without regret. But today he seemed to be taking his sweet time with you, making you feel every vein and bump against your sensitive walls as he pushed in.

“Fuck,” You moan, eyes closed shut as you dug your nails into his sweaty back.

“You’re so good to me.” He groans, forehead falling against your shoulder as he pushed himself inch by inch.

You ignored the pounding in your chest at his words and the heat creeping up to your face. This wasn’t like him at all, he never gave you praises and you were afraid that if you allowed yourself to fall for them, you’d be getting your hopes up for nothing.

“Levi,” You cooed against his ear, hips lifting up to get more of him. “Please fuck me”

It was like something snapped in him, your words sending a frenzy straight to his brain because soon after, he pulled his hips back completely and slammed into you. Not giving you a chance to fully get used to the feeling. Hammering into you at the pace you’ve grown used to.

“Fuck Levi,” Your grip on him tighten, brows furrowed and bottom lip caught between your lip.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He groans, leaning back as gripped your hips, pulling you to meet his thrusts. His eyes focusing on the way your greedy cunt swallowed him with each thrust, leaving a thin coat of transparent white. “Always so wet and tight for me, only me.”

“Only you levi, fuck, just you,” You moan, head rolling backward and mouth falling open as you focused on the feeling of his merciless thrusts.

The room reeked of sex and sweat, and the walls echoed with skin slapping and your moans. It was a lewd scene but it only caused you to grow more aroused.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t even notice him lift his head and stare at you with so much intensity. You looked so pretty right now, sweaty and fucked out, eyes rolled back with your cute little tongues lolling out of your mouth. It was a sight Levi could never get tired of seeing.

And before he could even think on his own, his lips pressed against yours in a needy and desperate kiss. You gasp against him, eyes wide in shock at the foreign feeling.

The kiss was messy. Teeth clashed against each other, tongue rubbing on each other, creating a pool of saliva to fall from the corner of your mouths. It was obvious that Levi wasn’t experienced when it came to kissing by the way he sloppily sucked on your tongue. But, the way he was kissing made it all the more pleasurable because, he kissed you like he needed you.

You moaned against him while pulling away slightly due to lack of air. With Levi’s intoxicating lips and his unfaltering thrusts, you felt yourself losing your breath by the minute. Your orgasm was approaching soon, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. All the orgasms he pulled from you earlier made you all the more sensitive.

“Levi, I’m close,” You breathed heavily while wrapping your arm around his neck, hips moving up to meet his thrusts.

“fuck me too,” He groans, hand going down between your bodies and easily finding your clit. You breath hitched and a high pitched moan left your mouth as he rubbed harsh circles on it.

“M’ gonna come, gonna come, Levi. “ You chanted, feeling the euphoric feeling consuming your whole body. It was electric. You walls spasm and tighten once you reach your limit, making it harder for Levi to continue thrusting. Dark spots clouded your vision as you relished in the earth shattering orgasm he just have you.

It only took four more pumps before he pulled out of you and spilled his seed all over your tummy. His groans mixed with his heavy breathing made you heart do flips.

And just like that, he lays on top of you, the both of you trying to catch your breaths. Your mind still dazed from your previews orgasm and your tummy felt uncomfortable because of his cum and sweat being smushed with his.

You wanted to run your hands through damn hair, run your fingers along his back, but you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. Tonight was different, you knew that, but you still weren’t sure if you could cross a boulders that Levi had set.

You lay like that for 10 minutes, basking in each other presence before Levi abruptly got up. He didn’t even glance at you before looking for his clothes and putting them on. You didn’t know why you felt your heart breaking, you knew this was going to happened, it always did. But you couldn’t help but latch on to the ounce of hope he had given you tonight. Your mistake. You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the ceiling above you as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“I’ll uh, call you. Good night.” He coughs awkwardly before walking out the door.

And that’s when you allow yourself to fully let the tears fall as you let the pain in your chest take over.

Maybe one day you’ll be able to leave him.

#levi headcanons #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan imagine #levi smut #levi angst #aot headcanons #aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan hcs #attack on titan x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #levi imagines #Levi Ackerman imagines

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Speak Your Mind

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound / George x f!reader

Summary: Usually, you left George feeling tongue-tied, but apparently not today.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted a cute, clumsy george story! another anon wanted something similar, so i hope you both and all enjoy <3 this was inspired by this quote by lemony snicket :)

George slipped into his chair with a slight groan, nudging his mouse with his elbow as he took a sip of water. He watched as his screen came to life, glancing over at the time. It was still kind of early, and he had a few hours to himself before his scheduled stream.

I could probably just play by myself for a while, he thought to himself, setting his glass down to his left as he opened up Minecraft. He reached across his desk, grabbing his headphones and settling them over his head. It’s been a while since I’ve played in a hardcore survival world.

But then his gaze flickered down to a particular server, and he found his cursor automatically clicking on it, almost like clockwork. In an instant, his avatar was standing on the Prime Path, the blocky world rendering into view around him. Shifting his mouse a few times, George smiled and opened up his inventory.

He spent a few moments sorting everything out, quietly humming to himself. A few seconds later, something popped up on the bottom left of his screen, his gaze darting over to catch it.

[y/n]: hi george!

[y/n]: how are you doing?

George’s heart almost immediately stuttered in his chest, and he spent a moment or two simply staring at the two lines of text.

He couldn’t believe just how much power you had over him.

The two of you had been friends for a long time now—nearly as long as he had been friends with Dream, even. The two of you had met almost entirely by accident, having simply been jokingly trapped together on a random server by one of the admins for a few hours. Under any other circumstances, George probably would have felt awkward to hell and back, but the two of you had just instantly hit it off together.

You were kind and cheerful, while he was practical and goofy. He loved your optimistic innocence, and you lived for his sarcastic quips. While the two of you had never met in person, both of you had most definitely seen each other’s faces before, and George would never forget the first thing he said when he saw your face.

“Woah. You’re really pretty.”

He had blurted it without warning, surprising even himself at his own words. Your face had flushed while you immediately turned off your face cam, letting out a quiet whine. “George, you can’t just say that!”

He remembered sputtering in his chair, then sending an earnest smile at his monitor. “But it’s true!”

“George!”

The image of your cheeks plastered with an embarrassed, sheepish grin and your wide, shining eyes would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Years later, that picture hadn’t changed a bit, still as clear as ever in his head, but the feelings he held for you had transformed. It didn’t happen quickly, nor did he ever want to admit it, but he was incredibly aware of it—almost too aware of it.

You made his cheeks hurt from how much he smiled around him. You filled his stomach with butterflies just with a single giggle. You made his ears turn bright red whenever you made a sly joke.

The three little words sat at the back of his head at nearly every hour of the day, and he just knew that one of these days, he was going to tell you what they were.

Hopefully.

With a smile on his face and a million thoughts swirling around his head, all of them beginning and ending with you, he closed his inventory and began to type back a response.

GeorgeNotFound: i’m doing good haha

[y/n]: i’m happy to hear that! <3

His breath caught in his throat. A heart—you had sent back a heart. He could feel his own heart seize in his chest at the sight of two simple symbols on his monitor screen.

Oh god, he was so screwed.

He walked forward a bit, his head still spinning with thoughts of you and that stupid heart as he contemplated what he should do next. An idea popped up just then, a small wave of anxiety creating over his head. With shaky hands, he began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: wanna join vc 2?

A moment ticked by, and George chewed on the side of his cheek. Then, your username appeared in the corner of his screen.

[y/n]: okay! i’ll be there in a sec :)

A smiley face. His own lips curled upwards to match the smile emoticon as he entered the voice channel, patiently waiting. A few moments later, something caught his attention from the corner of his monitor. Turning, he flinched as your avatar jumped down and landed in front of him, briefly turning red from the fall damage. A split second later, he heard a familiar ping.

“Boo!” you chirped, your voice echoing in his ear as bright as day. He felt warmth blossom in his chest just at the sound of a single syllable spoken in your voice.

“What a grand entrance,” he said teasingly, unable to hide the fact that he was grinning while he spoke.

“You know me,” you said, giggling, “I always have to make a big show of things.”

“I sure do,” he said, secretly thinking to himself.

But I wish I knew you better.

“Woah,” you suddenly breathed, something like awe seeping in your voice as your character stepped forward. “I feel like we haven’t talked in, like... forever.”

He blinked, shifting his mouse slightly toward you. “We talked yesterday.”

“No,” you said quickly, your pitch raising, “I mean like, talk talked. You know, over call or something?” Your voice grew quiet. “I missed hearing your voice.”

George wanted to throw a pillow across his room. Cute. “Well, I’m here now,” he said softly, chuckling, “so you get to hear it all you want.”

He heard you cough, but it was slightly muffled. He wondered what you looked like right now, and he half-wished that you two had your face-cams on. “Now that you’re on the sever,” you prompted a second later, suddenly sounding normal again. “what do you wanna do?”

He thought for a moment, the wheels in his head turning. “Well, I kind of wanted to work a bit more on my house.”

“Oh, you mean your new house? The one you were building during the, uh—” You paused, searching for the right words. “—big battle?”

He could imagine you making fake air quotes with your fingers, and he laughed, thinking of your scrunched up face. “Pfft, yeah. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” you admitted, some rustling coming through his headphones. “Do... do you mind showing me it?”

He smiled sheepishly. “No, not at all. But I’m not a very good builder, I hope you know.”

You let out a brief shout, and he jumped in his chair. “Nope! Illegal!”

His eyebrows knit together. “‘Illegal’?” he parroted.

“Illegal,” you said in an affirmative tone. “It’s illegal to be mean to GeorgeNotFound. Even by GeorgeNotFound himself. Sorry I don’t make the rules.” Before he could even think of a response, your character began jumping up and down on his screen. “Now, show me the goods! I’m sure it looks great.”

He was pretty sure he was just a puddle in his chair, now. You were just far too much for his poor heart. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this before he lost his mind.

Shaking his head free of thoughts of you, he pressed the W key and watched as he moved forward down the Prime Path and over a hill. “Here, follow me. It’s a bit far from the rest of the server’s homes, but I kind of like it.”

You hummed, thoughtful and soft as the two of you jumped your way over a few hills. “I get you. I mean, we all need our space. I think having your home being more far away is just cozy. Quaint. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy. It’s a win-win situation!”

He snorted at your words. Probably not going to get robbed by Tommy was a positive he would never pass up. “I’m glad it’s not just me who thinks that.”

It was then that a splash of red among a horizon full of browns and greens came into view. You let out a soft gasp as his hobbit-hole house came into view. “Sooo,” he began, clicking his mouse, “ta-da! Here it is! I know it’s not much, but it’s pretty okay, I think?”

A cry of awe flew from your lips. “Are you kidding me? Your house is so pretty!” You ran forward, your eyes wide as you gazed at the hobbit-style home. “It’s so round and cozy and—oh, the mushrooms!” Your avatar jumped up and down, punching at the air towards his house. “You even added a little moat with a bridge!”

A certain sincerity flooded your voice as you added, “George, don’t lie to me and tell me you suck at building. I love your house.”

He felt his heart melt at your eager tone. Just how endearing could one person be?

“Can we go inside, can we go inside?” you asked, your voice growing bolder as you turned to look at him expectantly.

A bashful smile shot across his face, even though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I—ah, I haven’t actually built the inside yet,” he admitted shyly.

You let out a soft squeal, your avatar running around the screen with a hop. “If you want, we can build it together!” you offered. “I know you’re not super confident in your building skills, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

His heart melted. You were so kind. Too kind, really. How could he say no?

“I would love that,” he said. He moved inside the house, revealing the hollowed out, blank space that would serve as the interior of his house. “So, as you can see, it’s still a work in progress.” He glanced back at you. “Where should we start?

There was a slight pause. “Hmmm.” He could imagine the way you scrunched your nose as you thought, your fingers tapping against the nearest flat surface as you did so. “We could make most of the inside out of birch planks,” you began, “and have some dark oak details. You know, so there’s some really neat contrast between the light and dark parts of your house.”

He could hear you growing giddier and giddier with each passing second. “And we can also add some red and white carpet to match the mushroom aesthetic! Oh, that would look so good! “Your character turned to look at him, a block of birch wood already in hand. “What do you think?”

His heart beat a little faster. I like you, he thought, clear as a bell. I really, really like you, that’s what I think.

“You what?”

He froze.

Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud?

Your voice filled his ears, quiet and shaky. “Um. Yeah.”

A second passed in awkward silence. Then another.

If a Minecraft skin could blush, George’s face would be a tomato.

“I, um,” he stammered, his eyes darting every which way in search of an excuse to leave the call. Just then, his gaze caught on the glass of water he had set to his left. He barely gave himself even a second to think about what to say before he started rambling, speaking in a single, blurted breath.

“I just um spilled water all over myself and wow it’s about to get all over my set-up and that would be really bad so I’m just uh gonna go now okay great bye—”

Before he could embarrass himself anymore, he found himself pressing the ‘end call’ button and closing the window, hanging his head in his hands as he let out a long groan of despair.

Why did he do that? How did he do that?

Groaning again, he slammed his head into his desk, turning to press his cheek into the wood as he stared at his keyboard.

He was an idiot—a big, fat idiot.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as his phone screen lit up. It‘s probably a message from [Y/N], his brain helpfully supplied. She’s probably confused as hell.

“Not helping,” he muttered to himself, sitting up once more.

Well, there was really only one thing he could do now, and that was to get help. Fortunately for him, he knew two people he could definitely ask for advice. Unfortunately, he had a feeling he knew how this conversation was going to go.

Sighing, he opened up Discord again on his monitor.

He was sure things could only go downhill from here.

“You what?!”

George grimaced. He was right. This was a terrible idea. “You don’t have to rub it in my face,” he grumbled.

“I’m—” Wheeze. “I’m not rubbing it in,” Dream explained between gasps for air, “it’s... it’s just that it’s funny.”

George pursed his lips. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like you’re rubbing it in.”

Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s laughter. “Okay, okay, Dream, you’re not helping. Gogy here is having, as Tommy would put it, ‘women problems’, and he needs some help.”

All of a sudden, Dream’s laughter stopped. “If I’m being totally honest,” he said, “I’m not really seeing the problem here.”

There was a beat of silence. “How are you not seeing the problem?” Sapnap said. You could hear the frown in his voice. “George just prematurely confessed his feelings to [Y/N].”

“Yeah, and?”

Another beat of silence.

“What the heck do you mean, ‘and’? That’s the problem!”

George sighed, sinking down in his desk chair. “Dream,” he muttered into his headset, rubbing at his temples, “just spit it out.”

“Look,” he began, “I’m just saying that here’s no advice we could possibly give you, because there’s only one solution.”

“Which is?” Sapnap prompted.

“You just have to tell her outright how you feel.”

George’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to sit up. “No way I’m doing that. Nuh-uh, no thanks.”

Sapnap made a noise of approval. “No, wait—Dream does have a point.”

George felt a stone of uneasiness drop into his stomach. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me make a fool of myself.”

“No, no, nonono, I’m telling the truth!” Dream cried. “Seriously, what other options do you really have? Pretend that you never said anything and just act like nothing happened to confuse her and hope that she forgets?”

“Pretty sure that’s called gaslighting,” Sapnap mumbled.

George glared at his monitor, knowing full well no one could see him. “Not helping.”

“Ignore her for the rest of eternity?” Dream continued. “You’ve already declined six of her calls!” There was a pause, then he carried on. “George, seriously. I want the best for you, and I’m not kidding when I say this is the only viable option, really.”

He stared down at his lap, his hands shaking where they lay. “What if,” he began, “she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, tough luck then, Gogy,” Sapnap said bluntly, “You’re just gonna have to suck it up and move on like the rest of us.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. While it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to put it, he supposed Sapnap was right. “What if...” He swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”

A soft sigh came from the other end. “George,” Dream said, his voice sincere, “believe it or not, but no one’s ever ready, really. But if we all waited until we were ready, then we’d be waiting for the rest of our lives.”

George fell quiet. A strange sense of comfort fell over him as he let Dream’s words soak in. Mustering up a deep breath, he smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call her back tonight, alright?”

Sapnap let out a hoot, the sound of clapping filling his headphones. “Let’s go! Get ‘em, Gogy!”

“You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Nah. It’s funny.”

Before George could retort, Dream stepped in. “Remember buddy, no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you, okay? Don’t let your fear hold you back. Hell, you know what? Don’t let your—” Dream suddenly cackled, his voice wheezing into his mic as he sputtered, “Don’t let your dreams be dreams, George!”

George let out a groan, barely able to hear himself over the deafening sound of Dream’s wheezing. “Oh my god, I’m hanging up.”

“Good luck, Gog—”

It was at that moment that he clicked the ‘end call’ button, the sweet sound of silence washing over him. Leaning back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips.

Maybe calling his friends wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

George stared at his monitor, the dark screen reflecting a mirrored image of himself. His hand opened and closed on his lap, itching to hold onto the mouse.

It had been two days since he’d blurted the words he’d been procrastinating saying for the last god knows how long.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see fluttering shots of you. You, with your mouth agape, staring at your screen with your headphones sliding down your neck. You, frantically texting on your phone about everything that had just slipped out of his mouth. You, with your face inevitably twisting in disgust at the thought of someone like him liking someone like you.

I’m not ready, he thought, his reflection blinking back at him.

That’s exactly why you’re going to do this, his reflection said back as his hand moved to his mouse, hovering over it.

You suck, he thought.

The monitor smiled back at him as he moved his cursor. I know.

His screen burst to life, Discord already open and waiting for him. George moved his cursor to hover over your username, his palm starting to sweat. Clicking, he reached over to his keyboard and began to type.

GeorgeNotFound: hey! did you wanna video call?

The moment he hit enter, he ripped his hands away from the keyboard like it was made of hot coals, wiping his hands on his pants. With bated breath, he waited, staring at the green circle accompanying your profile picture. Suddenly, his screen moved.

[y/n] is typing...

His heart leapt into his throat.

[y/n]: okay!

He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose, his mouse moving to press the hit ‘video call’ button. A few seconds passed with the ringtone echoing through his headphones. A moment later, the ringing stopped and your face filled his screen, the familiar set-up of your room fading in at the corners. His heart swelled at the sight—both with affection and anxiety.

“Um, hi!” you said with a shy smile, your gaze darting away from the screen as you waved at the camera. Despite your bright demeanour and cheery tone, he could practically feel the tension in your shoulders the moment he laid eyes on you.

“H-Hi,” he said back, swallowing as he mustered up a shaky smile. Your gaze flickered to his for a brief second, and in that moment, it almost felt like you two were actually looking at each other in real life. Then you looked away again and something in his chest cracked.

“How are you doing?” he asked slowly, trying to prompt a conversation. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever.”

Your lips quirked as you tilted your head at him. “We talked, um, two days ago.”

He ignored the embarrassment flaring up on his cheeks. “I mean like, see-each-other-talk talked.” He paused, then adding in a near-whisper. “I missed seeing your face.”

Your rosy lips parted in awe, and he was almost certain that he was never, ever going to forget that expression of yours.

“And, um, h-how—how are you, George?” you stammered out with a shaky voice, curling up a little in your chair. “Are you doing okay?”

George opened his mouth, then shut it. Whenever people asked him if he was okay, his mouth always defaulted to “fine” or “good” or “okay”. Rarely did he ever find himself telling the truth. But now, as he looked at your shy, bashful face, he knew what he had to do. Straightening up, he looked his webcam dead in the eyes.

“I,” he said, “am really, really nervous right now. Like, nervous out of my mind.”

You blinked, finally turning to face him directly at last. “Really?”

He nodded, his anxiety slowly falling away. “Yeah. Do you know why?”

Recognition flickered through your eyes, and your cheeks grew hot once more. “Why, George?”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and smiled.

It’s now or never.

“I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. What I said earlier was true. It wasn’t some bit, and it wasn’t just some spur of the moment thing. I really do like you a lot, and I would like it if you would be my g—”

He almost choked on his own words, oh-so very aware of just how hot his face was. “And I,” he began again, squeezing his eyes shut, “would love it if you would be my girlfriend.”

He couldn’t look—he couldn’t. He missed seeing your face, he really did, but he knew that if he looked now, he would only be met with disappointment. You, with a frown on your face, only deepening with each passing second. You, with guilt in your eyes for not reciprocating his feelings. You, with your soft lips mouthing four words he wish he didn’t have to hear.

I’m so sorry, George. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so—

“I like you, too.”

His eyes flew open, his mouth agape.

Those were not the four words he was expecting to hear.

He lifted his head, his gaze taking in every inch of his screen. A bright, glowing smile was plastered across your face, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

“For real?” he breathed, disbelief wracking every inch of his being.

You nodded, a laugh tumbling from your lips and lighting up his insides. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

George felt a smile of his own creep across his face as he ran a hand through his hand, something happier than joy rushing through his veins.

Oh god, he thought, wanting to scream it from the top of the nearest building. I like you, I like you, I like you. I like you a lot lot.

“I like you a lot lot, too.”

He froze. Did I say that out loud, again?

Your grin widened. “Yes.”

For a second, he almost shriveled up in shame. But then he shook his head and laughed, basking in the warmth of your smile.

A few days ago, he might have been embarrassed. But now?

Well, if it was with you, he supposed he wouldn’t mind speaking his mind more often.

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years

Text

flight plan: part 2

no planes in this one - just some good old-fashioned sickfic! But if you want the backstory, check out part 1 here.

“A, can you hand me my glass of water? Pleaaaase?” B sticks out their bottom lip in a pout, and A can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you. It’s been four days and I know you’re getting better, because you’re getting pesky again.” A straightens the blankets and slides their hand up to feel B’s cheek. “Still a little warm, but I think you’re on your way out of the woods.”

“So I should milk this while I can?” B flutters their eyelashes and gives a pitifully fake cough, which slips into a real one, sharp and rattling. Concern flits across A’s eyes, and they help B take a few sips from the glass.

Despite the joking, A didn’t kid themselves about how sick B had been, or how awful they’d truly felt after getting off the plane. The first two days had been nightmarish - B barely conscious, shivering with chills and sweating through their sheets, alternating between terrifying fever dreams and inconsolable moaning and weeping.

A did their best to hold them through it, but they had been minutes away from hauling B to the hospital. Thankfully B’s fever had spiked just one final time before settling into general low-grade misery.

“As long as you need me, sweetheart, you’ve got me.” B gives a tired smile and pulls the blanket to their chin, huddling around the new stuffed animal A gave them at the airport.

“Did you call C?”

“Ah, not yet. Too busy with you, ya sick little bean.” A gently fluffs B’s hair. “You rest, and I’ll give them a call now.”

But C doesn’t pick up. Nor do they pick up an hour later, leaving A stuck with the unpleasant task of leaving a voicemail.

“Um, hi…this is A. I just wanted to call and let you know that B’s on the mend. They’re still pretty weak, but I think things are looking up. So…yeah. Thanks for everything you did for B - once they were feeling better, they told me all about what you did. And I…well, I care a lot about them. Obviously. So I appreciate it. I guess you can call back if you-”

The message cuts off, and A groans. Hopefully that was enough. Still, they couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Later, they settle in with B to watch a movie, B’s head cradled in their lap as A combs their fingers soothingly through their hair, reveling in the sheer normalcy of it all. They both end up falling asleep, and when A blinks awake as the credits roll, they notice a missed call from C. B’s still out, so they click to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey, A….sorry I *coughs*…missed you earlier. Wasn’t able to *sniffs* make it to the phone. So glad to hear that B’s *cough cough* doing better. I think they did a little sharing.” C laughs weakly, but A can hear the sheer exhaustion in their voice. “Anyways, glad they had you. And if you’ve got any survival tips, feel free to pass them along…..I’m just kidding. *cough* I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ll…see you around, I guess.” They pause briefly, like they want to say something more, but a coughing fit steals their breath away, and the message ends with a click cutting off the rough gasps.

The pit in A’s stomach comes back. C sounds sick.

“Who….who was that?” B mumbles from their spot on A’s lap.

“It was C. They called back and they….didn’t sound so good.”

B’s eyes snap to meet A’s, more alert than they have been in days. “Did they sound like me?”

C pauses. They hadn’t thought about not telling B, but in hindsight, maybe they should have. After all, it’d only flood B with guilt, and they needed all the energy they had to get well. But one look at B’s concern, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie.

“Yeah. They did.” Immediately B struggles to push themselves up, throwing their blanket off their shoulders and trying to stand.

“Whoa, hold it there. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To C. If they’re sick, it’s from me, and if any hints from the past four days of living with me are any indication, we gotta help them.”

A throws their hands up, pressing B back on the couch. “Hold up. We don’t know them, we don’t know if someone’s already taking care of them, and we don’t know where they live. I’m sure they’re-“

B frantically shakes their head. “You didn’t hear them. On the plane. From what they said…I don’t think they have anyone. I have to go.”

A chews their lip. “Well, let’s get things straight first. You’re in no shape to go help them. Which leaves me. A random stranger they don’t know. And you want me to check on them?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but B nods vigorously and fear fills their eyes with a fevered anxiety. “A, you saw how sick I was. You think anyone’s gonna be able to fight through that alone?”

A sighs wearily. They could blame it on the fact that arguing with a sick B was like arguing with a brick wall. But truthfully, what did their heart in was the thought of B alone on that plane, sick and shivering and miserable, if C hadn’t helped.

Fine. They’d send a text.

You okay? You sounded kinda rough on the phone. B was worried….

A few moments later, C responds.

Eh, I’ve felt better. But thank you for asking. And tell B not to feel bad. They were a better seatmate than most.

A smile tugs at A. At least this C was polite.

Is there anything you need? B said something about you being by yourself.

This pause was longer. The dots appeared and disappeared a few times, before a message came through.

I hate to take advantage, but is there ANY way you could bring over some cough medicine? I ran out a couple days ago. No worries if not - I can figure it out.

C’s heart sank. So they were alone. Sure, they didn’t say it - but any good friend or significant other worth their salt wouldn’t leave someone they loved without medicine for days.

I’ll bring some to you! Want to meet somewhere neutral, or just want me to drop it off?

In moments, C sends a response and an address.

Dropping off is fine. You are an actual lifesaver.

A settles B into bed with blankets, a cup of water, hot tea, and six types of medicine on the side table. “Now if you get worse, call me and I’ll turn around immediately. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?”

B shook their head. “I’ll be fine. They need someone.”

A heaves a sigh. “You’re too good, you.” They give B a quick forehead kiss, and head out into the night.

By the time they get to C’s apartment, their stomach is flip-flopping - C is a stranger. A lonely stranger, but a random stranger nonetheless. They come to C’s door and knock tentatively, gripping the paper bag of cough medicine (plus some cough drops and Tylenol for good measure), and hold their breath.

Nothing. A few minutes go by and A knocks again. They’re ready to break down the door if C doesn’t answer soon, but they realize what took so long right after they hear the click of the deadbolt.

A had seen corpses that looked more alive than C did right now. They lean heavily on the doorframe, sweat beaded on their forehead, a thick grey throw blanket clutched tightly around their shoulders. Their face is hollow and devoid of color, lips dry and cracked, their hair mussed and matted to their head. The cool night air hits their fevered body, triggering a round of chills that make them shudder. Despite their misery, a tiny light of gratitude flits across their eyes, and they stare incredulously at the paper bag in A’s hands.

“C….” A’s jaw drops to the ground.

“A, I seriously owe you one.” C tries to laugh, but it turns into a wheezing chest cough, high pitched and tense as they fight to catch their breath. Their eyes blink slowly, and they start to slide down the doorframe, but A grabs them and they both tumble inside.

Even through the blanket, A can feel C’s every bone. C weakly clings to A as they stumble toward the couch, and A deposits them on the cushions before tearing into the package of meds.

“What have you taken so far today?” A asks, trying to figure out the dosages.

“I….nothing…” C mumbles. A meets their eyes in disbelief before cracking open the blister packet and retrieving a proper dose. Grabbing an empty glass on the side table, they fill it before helping C choke the pills down. C greedily gulps the whole glass, breathing heavily once they’ve drained it.

“Water…water’s good.” C smiles blearily - they’re almost completely out of it. A presses a hand to the side of C’s neck, and C flinches at the cool touch. Their neck feels like a bank of hot coals, slick with sweat, lymph nodes sore and swollen. Their forehead isn’t much cooler either.

“C, when’s the last time you ate or drank anything?”

C cocks their head like A just asked them to recite the entire periodic table. “I….not sure? Days….kinda blurry.”

A’s seen enough. “C, you’ve got to go to the hospital. I haven’t even seen your temp, but you’re burning up even worse than B was.”

C frantically grasps at A’s wrists, sharp panic flooding their eyes. “Please…no…no hospital. I can’t. The meds….I’m fine here. Please.” A shiver wracks their body, and they hunch their shoulders, wrapping themselves back up and pulling the blanket over their nose. “Please. You can go now.”

“C, you need help-“

“I don’t.” Their voice breaks on the last word, cut off by a brief hiccuping sob.

Confusion rises through A - one minute C’s a grateful wreck, and the next moment they’re demanding they leave?

“C, I don’t understand-“

“You don’t get it. You think it feels all nice, having people care about you. Making you feel like you matter. And then they leave you. Get tired of you. Decide you’re not worth it. And it hurts worse than if they were never there at all.” C scrubs their eye with the corner of their blanket and sniffles as tears run down their cheeks. “I can’t let it happen again. I have to be alone. So just go. Please.”

A’s speechless. They kneel down next to the couch, hand tentatively hovering above C.

“C, is it okay if I put my hand on you right now?” C’s still sniffling, but they nod and mumble a weak “yes”, and A gently lets their hand rest on this stranger’s shoulder.

“C, I want to respect what you want right now. But you should know that you’re very sick. And you’ve managed in your own way - how, I have no idea - but you need some help right now. Now I can either call the hospital and let them handle it, or take you home with me. It’s up to you. Otherwise, you need to look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want to be left alone through this.”

They squeeze C’s shoulder, and it triggers a deep gasping sob from their broken, aching body, sending a fault line straight through A’s heart. The sob turns to weeping, and A can barely make out the words C whimpers: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

God, who broke this poor thing? A bites their lip. C’s losing it. They’re running out of options short of forcing C to come with them, and that’s the last thing they want to do to a delirious, love-starved person who’s known them all of 6 minutes.

“C, I’m not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. Heck, even B wants to help you. I had to practically pin them down to the bed before leaving, they were so hell bent on this rescue.”

C’s red, swollen eyes meet A’s. “You mean….they asked after me?”

“Yes. They did. They could hardly stop talking about you once they came to their senses.” A rubs C’s knee through the blankets. “And they’d never forgive me if I left you here alone - they were very adamant about that. So if you want to save me a lot of arguing with and consoling of a very sad B, you’d actually be doing me a favor coming back with me.”

C seems to be weighing their options, all while struggling to stay awake on the couch. “I mean…if it saves you the trouble….”

A’s the one nodding vigorously now. “Please. It would.” Please. Just come back with me. I can’t leave you here like this. But I don’t know what else to do.

C presses themselves up off the couch with a single shaking arm. “Well, if it’d help you, then I accept.” And then they promptly pass out into A’s waiting arms.

It’s late when A gets back home with a limp C, and B is knocked out in their room, light still on - they’d tried to wait up, but their body still craved rest.

A carries C over the threshold and into the house. They gently lay the bundle on the bed and feel their forehead - still too hot, but the medicine seemed to be working. They manage to wake C up enough to take a few sips of broth from a mug before they pass out again.

For the briefest moment, A lets their hand touch C's shoulder again, making a silent promise they barely know how to keep: I don't know who broke you, but I'm not gonna let you hurt any more. I won't allow it.

A wave of exhaustion floods their body as they feel the effects of several late nights and long days of caretaking. They'd be no good to anyone if they didn't get any rest. A drapes an extra blanket over C’s sleeping form and heads for the couch for the night - they’d check back in an hour or so.

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

B’s awakened by the sound of sniffling. And it’s not theirs. They blink tentatively in the lamplight, sleep clouding their thoughts. Snatching a blanket from the top of their bed, they wrap up, stuffed animal under one arm, and shuffle across the hall to see where the sound is coming from.

It’s C, swathed in two blankets, holding a wad of tissues and trembling like a leaf. B flicks on the bedside table lamp, and C winces at the light. B can see the tear stains on their cheeks.

“Cold,” C whimpers, coughing weakly. Pity floods B - it’s like looking at a picture of themselves just a few days ago. They reach out and put their hand on C’s head, and C leans into the touch.

“Yeah, this part sucks,” B says softly, guilt flooding their core. Sure, they didn’t mean to make C sick. But they did. And they felt a certain responsibility to make sure they made it through okay - just like C had cared for them on the plane.

“Can I get you anything? Another blanket, tea, medicine?”

“Throat hurts…water…please?” B nods and places the stuffed animal next to C before beginning the long, slow shuffle to the kitchen. A’s asleep on the couch, and they can’t bear to wake them up for something this small. But by the time they get to the kitchen, their legs are trembling with exertion. Easy there. You’re still sick, too.

They brace themselves against the sink as the glass fills, and will themselves to make the final journey back to C. By the time they’ve returned, the glass feels like a lead weight in their hand, and their entire body is chilled and shivery all over. They do their best to help C take a few sips, holding the glass with trembling hands, bracing themselves on the bed so they don’t tip over.

“Thank….thank you,” C’s grateful eyes meet theirs, and in a split second B knows the effort was worth it. But the validation is replaced with a bout of lightheadedness that nearly topples them onto C.

“Sorry,” B gasps. “Still not up to marathons yet. Just...need a minute.” They tug their blanket tighter, closing their eyes. “And this body forgot how to stay warm when I do stuff.” C’s eyes flood with concern - even in their fevered haze, they can see B struggling.

"Want to sit for a minute?" C asks softly, patting the open spot next to them on the bed. “I’m still cold, too.”

B wriggles into the spot, propping themselves up on pillows and pulling blankets over them both. "Just a minute - you need your sleep."

C's already dozing. "S'okay. I'll sleep just fine. 'Sides, you're warm." C's nestled themselves into B's side, head resting on their chest, and B wraps an arm around C's shoulder and holds them close. They’re warm, too. Just a minute....

Many minutes later, A pokes their head in to check in on C - and finds two sick peas in a pod curled up together, C's head still on B's chest, B's arm curled protectively around C, stuffed animal squished between them, both tangled in blankets and Kleenexes.

In spite of their own exhaustion, A smiles. After everything that had happened, they had a feeling C wouldn't ever be alone again.

#sickfic #sickfic whump #whump prompt #hurt comfort #soft whump #caretaking #i just couldn't stop writing #so this happened lol #i don't even know who the whumpee is at this point #everyone is the whumpee and everyone is the caretaker #where is the plot?? who can say #anyways enjoy this soft whumpy mess!!

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