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cardiophileanonymous · 3 years

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Short Thorquill Drabble: Clear!

AU where the guardians take one Electro, someone with electric powers similar to Thor. He is an alien race considered gods like asgardians. I know he’s a goofy Spider-Man villain but I couldn’t find many other electric villains in the marvel universe lol so just roll with it.

...

“Ha,” Electro quietly laughed. “A GOD of thunder? You’re barely even a child, let alone a deity!”

Thor was backed up to a corner, well, more of a cliff. Quill looked up, frantically waving his arms to get the attention of the men above him.

“Thor!” His shouts fell on deaf ears as the blonde man was too busy focusing on his opponent to notice. He glanced at a broken statue before him. “Rocket, what are these statues made of?”

Rocket shrugged.

“I dunno, silver maybe? But that doesn’t matter right now!”

Without explaining himself, Quill grabbed a long stick like piece that had broken off.

“Hey asshole!” The villain looked down. “Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you! If you really have such amazing lightning powers, why’ve I never seen you use em?!” He lifted up the long rod as if it was a sword.

Rocket’s jaw dropped in fear. He was pretty sure he had a good idea of what he was planning, and Peter had done far more stupid things in the past. He still whispered to him, determined to say his piece and not let his friend at least know what a suicide mission this was.

“Quill, are you crazy?! Silver is the most conductive metal in existence!”

Instead of backing down, the man stood up straighter.

“At least Thor shows his ‘pathetic’ powers! You haven’t! That’s cuz’ you’re not nearly as good as him!”

Thor shook his head.

“Quill-”

The villain finished his sentence.

“I have no need to prove myself to you or any other mortal!”

Quill shrugged and began to speak in a condescending, taunting manner.

“Then, go ahead! Strike me down, Zeus!” The villain turned his attention back to Thor, but he still looked down in the corner of his eye. The human smiled, a nervous smile from fear. He had to get his attention back quick, else Thor would be toast. “YOU DON’T HAVE THE BALL-”

With that, the villain turned, throwing a full speed lightning bolt at Quill. He jumped up from the electrocution immediately.

“QUILL!”

The call came from both Rocket and Thor. Rocket was almost frozen with fear. Meanwhile, Thor has the opposite reaction, taking his large battle axe and swiping along Electro’s feet with the long handle, causing him to fall on his side.

...

Rocket wasn’t sure what he should be doing, but dammit, he was gonna do his best. He had been trying chest compressions for the past few minutes, but with his smaller size he wasn’t sure if he was getting it done properly. Thor ran up to them.

“Rabbit! Is Quill-”

“I am Groot!”

Rocket lifted his head.

“I’m tryin, alright?! Listen, there’s still a pulse!”

Thor perked up.

“There is?!”

“Yeah but it’s way too slow and irregular! I’m trying to get it back to normal, but…”

Thor suddenly got an idea. He nudged Groot out of the way and kneeled down next to Rocket, in front of Quill.

“I have an idea. I saw something back on Earth. I think I can help.”

He shooed him away and opened up Peter’s jacket before ripping off his shirt. He put his hands on his chest. Rocket couldn’t help but keep butting in through the whole thing.

“Wait, what what? What are you doing?”

Thor gave a clear warning.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

He didn’t know how much was too much. Or too little for that matter. He focused, putting a small electric surge through Peter’s body. His chest convulsed up involuntarily before lying still again. Rocket jumped up, yapping uncontrollably.

“What are you doing, trying to kill him faster?!”

“What is his pulse now?”

Rocket brought his paw up to Quill’s neck to check. He gave Thor an odd look.

“...better than before.” He quickly started chest compressions again. “But still not good enough. His heart’s all outta whack.”

Thor looked to the side. After a few more moments of chest compressions, he brought his hands back down again.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

He did a similar shock this time. He tried to amp it up a little bit more, just enough so he wouldn’t hurt him and return his heart to his normal rhythm. The body jumped up before falling again. Rocket monitored Peter’s pulse again before returning to chest compressions.

“Better, but it’s still, irregular, dammit!”

Thor put a hand to Peter’s wrist while Rocket continued on with his attempt at cpr. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was irregular. The odd thumping sent a chill up his spine. Still, it seemed to get slightly better with Rocket continuing to do what he was doing.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

Thor sent another surge of electricity, raising the power up again this time. But this would be the most powerful he was willing to do. Any more, and he was positive he’d be hurting him far more than helping.

Rocket continued with chest compressions. His heart rate was better, but not by much. Thor was beginning to get worried.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

Another surge. Quill’s whole body convulsed. Rocket shook his head, frantically pushing his chest at a consistent rate.

“A big lightning bolt did this, why can’t a big lightning bolt put it back?!”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

“I know it doesn’t work like that! But…” Rocket began to get tired. He looked down, scared that Quill would never come to. “...but I wish it did.” He slowed down, and slowly came to a stop, before kneeling down. He looked like he was genuinely going to cry. Thor sighed, recalling all the previous friends he’d seen die in battle. He didn’t want this to be another one of those memories.

“Stand back, Rabbit. I’m going to try this one more time.”

He sent one more surge of electricity, hopeful that this time, Quill would open his eyes. After his body stiffened then returned to a relaxed state, Thor took a keen look at his face. He didn’t move an inch. The god finally looked down in defeat. His eyes turned to Rocket and Groot, who were already partially mourning. They would no doubt carry him back to the ship, and subsequently to a hospital, but the ship wouldn’t be there for another fifteen minutes. By then it’d likely be far too late.

Suddenly, Peter stirred. He groaned a little before sitting up. He looked at everyone.

“What… happened…?”

Rocket started laughing hysterically, something he was doing to stop himself from crying. It was a very sad laugh as a result.

“YOU GOT STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, YOU IDIOT!”

Suddenly, Quill’s memories started coming back to him. That’s right! He had pissed Electro off enough into zapping him. But that was strange, because the shock he got from him seemed like it happened ages ago. And he could’ve sworn he came to a couple times from a different kind of electricity.

“But… I thought I just felt zapping.” He looked down and noticed his clothes. “And what happened to my shirt? Was this all from the electric shock?”

Thor lifted his head up in pride.

“I just used my powers to send a large electric current through your heart!”

Quill looked at him with a confused smile before frowning with an open mouth.

“You WHAT?”

“It’s like a technology they have on Earth. A ‘defibrillator’. It puts your heart back to a ‘normal rhythm’.”

Rocket shrugged.

“I mean, it did do that. Your heart rate was waaay worse before Thor started zappin’ ya.”

Quill was speechless. Of course, the first thing going through his mind was holy shit this idiot could’ve just fried me a million times over right now and I could’ve been long dead, did he even know what he was doing?! But then he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. He wasn’t dead. Yeah, he was more than worse for wear, but that’s to be expected of someone who just got struck by powerful electricity. In fact, if Thor hadn’t gotten the idea to use his own hands to revive him, was it possible he could’ve died?

…

Later that night, Thor hung by the bar, laughing and joking with Drax and Rocket, as he usually did. This time, Peter joined them, and waited patiently for when Rocket and Drax decided to leave. He decided that after the other two were gone would finally be the time he’d swallow his pride. He knew he needed to say some sort of thank you. Not because of another crew mate telling him to or because his hand was forced. But out of genuine appreciation.

After Drax had left, Peter made a couple facial expressions at Rocket. The two had known each other well enough at this point that they were capable of having conversations without a single word. He indicated that he wanted to be alone with Thor and Rocket respectfully nodded and left the room. Once it was just the two of them sitting at the bar table, Peter finally cleared his throat.

“Thor.”

The god nodded.

“I guess… I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Thor seemed confused.

“Thank you?”

“Yes. For the whole shocking me, back to life, or whatever.”

“What? I should be thanking you!”

Peter turned his head to the side.

“Huh?”

“Yeah! If it weren’t for you distracting him, I’d have been finished!”

Quill’s confusion quickly turned into pride.

“Yeah…! You’re right!” He laughed, but his pride was shaky, and didn’t stay for long. After being face to face with death, again, now didn’t feel like the time to soak in praise unnecessarily. “...seriously though. Look, I know we don’t really get along, so the fact you saved me is just…” He couldn’t really convey the words, so he just reiterated his original point. “Thank you.”

Thor shrugged.

“Why shouldn’t I have? I feel I have been at your ire for no reason yet you risked your life for me in the first place.”

Quill felt like all his mental functions stopped for a moment as he registered what he was just told.

“Did I?”

“Well, what was that whole display?” Thor chuckled as he raised his bottle in the air, quoting Quill right before he got struck by lightning. “Come on, strike me down, Zeus!” He laughed at the previous sentence. “That line is actually pretty funny, since you turned out alive from this whole ordeal.”

Quill unconsciously started nodding.

“Yeah. I guess that is a funny line.”

He started to ponder, why did he do it? In his eyes, Thor was an annoying, rambunctious barbarian. He was always waiting for the day Thor would get off the ship, a day that never really came. Perhaps it was because he didn’t make a good first impression, maybe it was because he saw him as a rival for leadership. But despite all of that, there was no way in hell he deserved to die, so his heroism probably kicked in before any sort of jealousy or bitterness. Sure, literally asking to get struck by lightning was a less than eloquent way of going about saving him. But it was the best he could come up with in the heat of the moment. He snapped back to reality when Thor handed him a beer.

“How is your heart feeling?”

Peter grabbed the beer and looked him in the eyes, confused.

“Um, normal?”

“Well, what’s your heart rate?”

“Normal, I guess…? Like I don’t feel any different, so-”

Thor rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his wrist without question. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled.

“It’s normal.”

Peter did his best not to move his hand back out of instinct. Was just randomly grabbing people’s wrists to check on their pulses a common thing among asgardians, or was this man just incredibly weird? Instead of saying anything, he tried his best to laugh it off.

“Well, that’s good.”

He swore he could still feel Thor’s fingers on his pulse long after he finally retracted his hand. It was a strange phantom touch that remained. It annoyed him a little bit, but at the same time, it was oddly… comforting? He took a few sips of his beer as Thor went to bed and he pondered when he ought to do the same.

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#thorquill #peter quill #thor #cardiophilia #defibrillator #fluff #Youtube

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years

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Imagine:

Warnings: Smut, fluff, quarantine bae

This is a short imagine, Enjoy!

“Goodmorning!!”

Y/N walks into the Physical Therapy office with a glow that could put the sun to shame and a bright white smile that lit up her face like Christmas lights. She sanitized her hands at the front desk before walking further into the office, saying Goodmorning to Miss Kim who usually doesn’t speak but Y/N’s chipper attitude must have rubbed off on her. Y/N looks up and notices a sign posted on the desk window saying:

Please Wash Your Hands Before Checking In For Your Appointment!

“Let’s see if our patients actually abide by that today,” Y/N was thankful that the place was empty for now. All of the exam room curtains were drawn and the exercise equipment sat neatly in a corner. Y/N made it to the check in desk for appointments, walking around and dropping her purse on the empty chair beside her. Humming, Y/N takes off her windbreaker jacket, fluffing out her braid-out. She has on a scrub set with flowers on the top in pretty spring colors.

Y/N jumps straight into work, placing the clipboard for signing in at the top of the desk. There were medical files for the patients that were scheduled to come in today neatly piled in front of her. They were expecting at least 20 people. Some came for therapy because of a motor vehicle accident, others because of work related injuries. Sanitizing again, Y/N takes her seat, sighing because her legs felt like jello and her ankles reminded her of Bambi taking his first steps.

The reason for her happiness and muscle spasms is because of her man; Erik. Being home for the past two weeks meant two times the dick she was already receiving. She woke up with an attitude because he left the toilet seat up and basically used up all of her exfoliating scrub that she used for her pum-pum. In the middle of his snoring, Y/N barged back into the room, water dripping from her brown skin with her shower cap on her head. She picked up her pillow and started beating Erik out of his sleep....

Hour and a half ago:

“Get yo’ ass up!” Y/N yelled like a mad women while beating Erik with her pillow, “GET UP!”

Erik simply rolled over on his belly. All she could see now was his durag and muscular back.

“You think I’m playing,” Y/N yanked the covers from his body exposing his Under Armour briefs in navy blue. Y/N starts whipping Erik’s ass with her tiny hand. Erik’s hips start swiveling from side to side. He grunts angrily, his hand coming up and behind him to roughly smack her hand away.

“Erik GET UP! Why did you use up half of my exfoliating scrub?! I just bought this stuff and it ain’t cheap!”

“Girl...you waking me up out of my sleep because of some scrub?” Erik flips his body over to lay on his back. Rubbing his eyes, Erik mumbles to himself before completely sitting up. Bags under his eyes and a scowl on his face, Erik shakes his head at her, using all of his restraint to not grab Y/N up off her feet.

“That scrub, I spent my money on. I have to go to work I’m already frustrated that they have these offices open with this virus going around and here you go pissing me off further,” Y/N throws her hands up, ready to walk away but then she remembered the toilet seat, “And another thing, what’s your problem with closing the toilet? I don’t want my ass falling in the toilet, Erik.”

“Did you close it?” He asks with a glint in his eyes and a groggy voice.

“Yes, I did, what’s your point?”

“Then it shouldn’t be a big deal. You went pee-pee, get over it,” Erik fell back in bed, bringing the covers to his chin, “All loud for nothing I’m TIRED. Take that noise somewhere else.”

“Fucking asshole,” Y/N lifts her leg to the bed, kicking Erik hard. Erik sat up again, his pectorals jumping and his biceps flexed and ready to attack. Y/N stood her ground, unbothered with Erik’s wrathful expression.

“Kick me again. Gon’ head...”

“Erik, I don’t have time for this-“

“Oh, no, you do. The time you spent in here yelling at me your shower could have been finished. Just hurry up and get the fuck outta here so I can sleep.”

“Just know, I’m not making that baked Mac and cheese for you tonight!”

“You’re so simple acting! Damn,” Erik covers his head with a pillow. Things were silent for only two seconds before Erik removes the pillow from his face, sitting up in bed again. Fuming, Erik kicks the covers from his body like a child having a temper tantrum, getting out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom.

“See, look what you did, girl! Now I gotta piss!” Hot-tempered, Erik lifts the toilet seat Damn near breaking it, “I should take a shit too have this whole bathroom lit up while you’re in there!”

“Erik, DONT play with me. I don’t need to be smelling your toxic fumes,” Y/N was in the middle of cleaning her pussy, “Wait a minute...”

Y/N pulls the shower curtain back, peeking her head out with a disgusted look on her face. Erik simply laughs, a good hearty laugh with his hand clutching his chest.

“Did you just fart?” Y/N says while cover her nose.

“Duh, I ain’t shit on myself,” Erik flushes the toilet, going to the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth, “finish washing up, funky butt.”

“I’m not the one with the funky ass, smelling like you ate a whole can of beans-“

“Aight, then scoot over I’m coming in-“

“NO!” Y/N shouts, “No, I don’t want you in here I’m still pissed with you.”

“Girl, get over that shit,” Erik takes off his briefs, “I’m getting in there fuck you talking bout.”

“UGHHH,” Y/N rinses her body off, trying to ignore Erik’s rock hard body pressed against hers.

Of course, Erik couldn’t help himself when his hand came down to smack Y/N’s ass, “Get loud on me again and ima fuck you up.”

“Erik move back and take a shower,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “When you going back to work?”

Erik howled, his laugh so loud in Y/N’s war she clinched.

“I’m getting on your nerves that much, Damn...you wasn’t saying all of that when I fucked you all those times.”

“I know, I’m still questioning my morals-“

“Then as soon as I do go back to work you’ll start acting up again apologizing in my ear about why you’re acting the way you are,” Erik leans down to speak into Y/N’s ear, “I’m sorry baby, I just miss the dick,” He says trying to mock her voice.

Y/N stood quiet, no response because she knew he was right. She wanted to be mad at him so much but that’s her baby. Erik smiles evilly at her reaching down to grab her chin, turning her head in an uncomfortable position since her back was turned to him.

“You dont acting up?”

“But I was never-“

“You done?” Erik repeats himself.

“.....yeah.”

“Pass me my soap...get in that bedroom and arch your back I want some pussy.”

“Babe,” Y/N says with a pout.

“Take your lil ass in there!”

“Okay but why are you yelling?” Y/N was ready to give him more attitude but she changed her mind at high-speed when she saw the fiery look in his eyes. Y/N left the shower, not even bothering to dry off. She arched her body on the edge of the bed, little booty tooted in the air, cool air on her pussy.

“This nigga is about to destroy my whole body,” Y/N says to herself, waiting patiently with her chin resting on her folded arms, eyes studying the pattern of the sheets on their bed. Y/N couldn’t complain, she finally got Erik to be consistent after dealing with his “I don’t do relationships” mess. Consistency will get Y/N to give her pussy up whenever he said so. Consistency will get his dick sucked like it was dipped in chocolate.

Just when Y/N was daydreaming, the feeling of her pussy being licked from the back down knocked her senseless. Erik was enjoying his meal while jerking his dick. His noxious tongue thrashing almost stroked Y/N unconscious. He was eating her like he hadn’t eaten all quarantine. His belly would be gratefully filled with her syrupy essence.

Erik squeezes Y/N’s smaller yet round booty, before spitting on her pussy from the back, leaning back to admire his canvas, “I plan on smashing these lil cakes to smitherines, girl,” Erik went back to licking her up.

“Aight, bae, you gotta stop,” Y/N couldn’t handle his tongue so early in the morning. Her thighs started to close but Erik held them open while using the strength of his neck to eat her pussy.

Y/N’s hand found the top of Erik’s head. She mushes him away, her body slacken. Erik hit her ass for moving his head away, “Ima give you a nasty ass slow kiss when I’m finished so you can taste how good this pussy taste...don’t mush me again, Y/N.”

“Fuck!” Y/N didn’t listen, her body twisting and her hand swiping the air. Erik was purposefully scooting his head away while torturing her clit with his sucking.

“Okay, ZADDY SHIT!” Y/N tried to stay still but the way he was slurping all over her pussy made that unfeasible, “SHIT! I wanna tap out...”

“Uh-uh,” Erik wasn’t letting go.

“Okay...okay...fuckkkkkkkk...let go of my clit MOTHERFUCKER!!!!! GODDD!!!!”

Y/N started shaking, crying, squealing. Erik’s hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping her in place so he could continue sucking the life out of her clit. When she was finished feeding Erik her cum, Erik’s wet face reappears.

“Got you out of your lil mood, didn’t I?” Erik and his hard ten inches were ready to impale Y/N’s dripping cunt, “Come on girl, toot that ass up I’m tryna get in there.”

“Daddy just shut up and fuck me now because I know I’m not gonna be able to walk after this-“

“Then toot that motherfucking ass UP. You know the drill, get in position.”

Y/N arched her back more, breathing slow as she waited with anticipation. Erik didn’t warn her when he was about to stuff his dick inside of her pussy when he was trying to punish her. Squeezing her hands into fists, Y/N waited as her pussy convulsed.

“Babe-“

Erik purposely waited for her to speak so that he could put all of him inside of her. Y/N’s entire body crawled away from him, his dick leaving her pussy. Erik grabbed her ankles, pulling her back with force. Y/N was slapping Erik’s hands away but he was stronger. Each time she tried to crawl away Erik would drag her back like she was a damn doll.

“Where you going? Don’t run,” Erik held Y/N’s hips in place his dick back inside of her pussy like it never left. Maybe it was because it was early in the morning but she couldn’t take his back shots. His dick was constantly stroking her G spot and he was so deep that Y/N could feel it in her chest. Y/N was talking mad shit so now Erik had to show out in her pussy. Erik was beating up Y/N’s pussy. Long, hard, and deep strokes. Erik leans forward, one of his hands on her head while his hips stroked her pussy at a tempo Y/N knew was meant for her to be made an example of.

“Okay,” Y/N felt herself read to cum already. Erik’s hand on her head to hold her in place was so deathly Y/N kept her mouth shut the rest of the time. Her lips trembled and her eyes leaves hot tears from the way he bruised her G spot.

“Stay crying for big dick but wanna run from it,” Erik says calling her out, “You don’t get to run this is what you ask for.”

Y/N wanted to say she didn’t ask for this but her body was saying other wise. The intensity of the sensation was so overwhelming she didn’t care that he ordered her to arch her back. Now, her pussy was creaming. Erik was juicing her peach. She felt the wettest out of all the times they had sex. Maybe it was because he was the angriest he’s ever been. Maybe Y/N should act like a brat or a bitch more for him to fuck her like this.

“Lil booty freak taking Daddy beating this nut deep inside your pussy from the back...laying there letting Daddy take this pussy...Lil ass like it when Daddy bring this pussy back hard on this dick, huh?”

“Oh my God-“

“Just keep still while I drill this nut deep...fuckkkkkk...I can see now yo’ ass Gon’ end up with a baby growing in you with all this fucking. Can’t even count how many times my nut been up in this tight ass pussy.”

“Daddy, oh my God-“

“I don’t care either I’m nutting all in this pussy-“

“Unh, shittttt...fuck me!”

“I got you-“

“Take this sweet little pussy-“

“I’m taking my sweet little pussy”

Y/N screamed.

“Got that pussy hitting right with that ass matching these strokes...ahhhh fuck, hold still I’m about to nut....

“Wassup itty-bitty!”

Y/N sat up nice and tall after being brought out of her daydream. Clarence, one of the other Physical Therapists was nibbling on an orange while standing next to her. He peeked over her shoulder, seeing if she was occupied with something since he called her like five times.

“You Aight over here?”

“...yeah,” Y/N looked over the desk to find two patients waiting to be seen, “Did they just come in?”

“Yeah, a little after I did.”

Y/N noticed both patients. One was a middle aged women who was involved in a pedestrian accident with a car. She was jogging when a car backed up and hit her. The other patient was a young women around early 20’s who had severe back pains from a bus accident.

“I like your scrubs,” Clarence says while studying the floral patterns.

“Thanks,” Y/N gives Clarence a smile. Clarence smiles back, sure to show off his dimples just like her man except Clarence doesn’t have deep dimples. He’s 6’0, and from Ghana. All of the ladies loved Clarence. Y/N knew that he was feeling her even when she told him on multiple occasions that she has a man. His persistence wouldn’t let up.

———-

Things were steady and getting the patients in and out was a breeze. Y/N’s belly was currently growling and she instantly wished she’d at least brought in a snack to hold her over. Y/N planned on buying lunch from a carry out within the shopping center of the office. It was the perfect time to go grab something to eat before patients start piling up again. Clarence is currently wiping down a room that was recently used.

“Still with that boyfriend, Y/N?” He asks casually while spraying down an exam table. He asked her like he wanted to know what the weather was like. Y/N dreaded the day he would ask her that again.

“Yes, Clarence,” Y/N chuckles, “And I don’t plan on leaving him.”

“Why hasn’t he put a ring on your finger yet? It’s hard to find good girls like you. What is waiting on?”

“There is no rush,” Y/N grabs a pen to finish writing information into a patients report. Just before she could close her file, Y/N’s phone vibrated. Glancing at it, Y/N could see that Erik was currently sending her texts.

I’m bored

Well do something productive like reading a book instead of playing video games.

Just when Y/N flips her phone over so she could go back to work, another text comes through, most likely from Erik again.

I’m about to call you.

Before Y/N could tell him anything otherwise Erik was FaceTiming her. Y/N rolls her brown eyes before answering the FaceTime. Clarence was talking to another coworker of there’s so Y/N didn’t need to worry about anyone eavesdropping. Y/N answers the FaceTime, her heart fluttering because of the dick down Erik gave her before work. Staring at the screen, Erik was still in his sleep wear with a durag on his head. His controller was in his lap and from the pout on his lips and the puppy dog eyes Y/N could tell that being cooped up in the house and away from Y/N for at least three more hours is killing him.

“Ooooh, I like you’re hair, Miss lady, can I pull it from behind?”

Y/N looked around her to make sure no one heard it, “Yes, You can ZADDY. Just as long as you’re gentle this time around. I like tender love and care too.”

“So you rather go oooh and ahhhh then Unh and Fuck when you’re crying and drooling and begging to cum-“

“Erik, SHHHHHH,” Y/N tried not to laugh, “Babe, it may be dead at this place right now but I am on the clock.”

“My bad, ma-“

“Itty-bitty, lets go get some lunch,” Clarence stood at the desk like a patient waiting to be checked in. She hadn’t heard his footsteps and honestly she wished she did.

“...Who?” Erik says through the FaceTime, his face all scrunched up with confusion.

“Is that the boyfriend?” Clarence brings his face into the camera, “sup’ boyfriend, I’m Clarence.”

Erik was stone faced looking at Terrence. Y/N was holding her breath, unable to look at her phone because she knew her man was pissed off.

“Who is itty-bitty?” Erik finally says. Clarence caught wind of his abrasive tone, backing away from the camera, “Just a nickname, brother, my fault.”

“Only nigga giving my girl a nickname is me.”

Y/N cleared her throat loudly, “Okay, babe! I’ll talk to you when I get home, okay? Love you,” Y/N gave Erik smooches, not sticking around to hear him argue before hanging up.

“Damn, yo’ man is nothing but a hot- head-“

“And you don’t know when to sit back. I was on the phone with my man, if I wanted your attention, I could have gotten it.”

“Chill, itty-bitty,” Clarence was tickled by how bothered Erik was, “Shit, he ain’t playing about you is he?”

Y/N flat out ignores Clarence, standing up from the desk and grabbing her bag. While Clarence laughed and joked about Erik Y/N pumped hand sanitizer into her hand before walking off. In her scrub top pocket her phone was going off the hook. Y/N knew not to ignore his constant texts. Y/N pulled out her phone, her heart in her throat

Do I gotta come up there?

Who the fuck is that nigga?

Don’t let no other nigga put his face in your phone again. That’s disrespectful.

Y/N answer my texts. Do I gotta come up there?

The fuck is itty bitty? I don’t like that shit.

Panicky, Y/N calls Erik before exiting the office.

“Babe?” Y/N says with caution.

“Don’t babe me. Who the fuck is Clarence?”

“My coworker-“

“Where are you?”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip nervously, “Erik...why?”

“Because I’m coming up there. And what’s up with this itty bitty shit? You let him call you that?”

“I don’t he just does it-“

“You need to correct that nigga, matter of fact-“

Y/N could hear Erik moving around in the background, probably putting on his jordans uncaring of the fact that he was wearing loose fitted basketball shorts with his dick swinging.

“Babe, I know you’re not coming up here to my job,” Y/N says with a shaky voice, “Babe stay home.”

“Nah, I’m coming up there. He gon’ need physical therapy once I’m done breaking his goddamn limbs don’t nobody fuck with mines.”

“Erik, chill-“

“I call you nicknames, Y/N. I can tell that nigga was peeking so he could see what his competition looking like. Then, you’re there with him for 8 hours...all close to you, smelling how sweet you smell, making you smile, listening to your voice...”

“Erik, are you jealous of Clarence?”

“Jealous? Of that nigga? TEH,” Erik could be heard closing a door, “I’m not jealous, I’m territorial. Jealous is when you want something that’s not yours. Territorial is protecting what’s already yours.”

Y/N stood quiet, a smile fighting to form on her lips.

“My babe, is my babe. Therefore, don’t look, touch, wink, wave, stare, flirt, compliment, hold, anything that’s my job.”

“Babe, pleaseeeee don’t come up here because I know how you can get. Don’t be so upset about this fuck Clarence-“

“The reason I get mad is because I know exactly what they’re trying to do, I’m a man, I know. It’s not because I don’t trust you...I’m on my way.”

“Erik-“

“I’ll see you when I get there.”

Click

Y/N was reluctant to go back inside her job now. She only lived ten minutes away if she drove. Erik is a reckless driver who weaves in and out of lanes. He would probably do 70 MPH to get to her job. Y/N decided to wait for him instead of going back inside so she could bribe him with a shrimp cheese steak sub and save Clarence from an ass whipping.

———

Pulling up in an all black Mercedes-AMG in the hood was a risky thing to do but that was the least of Erik’s worries.

“Nah, let me put this heat away,” Erik places his chrome gold pistol in the glove department. He didn’t want to make Clarence shit himself and Erik didn’t use his gun for play. It’s not like he didn’t think about doing it though. Erik is very protective over Y/N. Still pissed off, Erik gets out of his SUV, securing it afterwards and pocketing his keys. The thought of Clarence all close to his girl calling her a nickname had Erik’s blood boiling over.

Sure enough, Erik did leave the house in a pair of black basketball shorts with his dick free. His crisp white T-shirt, gold chains, and black durag has all the hood girls that were leaving the hair store doing a double-take when he walked by. Y/N is still standing outside of her job, a male security for the shopping center talking her head off. When she spotted her boyfriend’s usual bop in her peripheral, Y/N lifted her back from the wall, a big beautiful smile on her face to distract Erik because he couldn’t resist her smile.

“Hey babe,” Y/N called out to him, the security dude looking towards the direction of who Y/N was referring to. Erik and him locked eyes. Erik squinted his with suspicion, ready to call out the security but he got the hint before Erik could even say anything.

“Aight, sweetheart, you be safe out here,” He walks away before Erik even approached. Of course, Erik’s anger piqued when he saw another man talking to Y/N. Finally within her space, Erik gave the security dude one final death look before looking down at his girl.

“Niggas getting real comfortable around you, I can understand, because you’re fine ass fuck but I don’t like this shit. Looks like I gotta beat the shit out of every nigga up here in this goddamn shopping center-“

“Erik...baby...daddy,” Y/N made her voice all sultry and low, blinking her lashes at him. She rubs his chest, talking to her in that low sweet voice that had him hard and ready to fuck in minutes.

“Don’t do that, I’m mad right now...Why are you waiting for me outside? I wanted to make a grand entrance into your job. That nigga wanna put his face in my girl phone let’s see if he try that shit now,” Erik doubles back to open the door to enter the Physical Theray Office but Y/N stops him.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I was just about to head to lunch, want something to eat?”

Erik’s eyes swept over Y/N’s work attire, “Nah, I wanna meet Clarence...let go of me, girl.”

“Baby,” Y/N made her voice soft again, “You’d rather pick a fight with someone I don’t give two fucks about than spend time with me? I can get you a foot long shrimp cheese steak with everything and some fries with hot sauce and ketchup.”

Erik rolls his eyes, bringing his left hand to rub his belly, “I am hungry. Didn’t eat since this morning.”

“Let’s go then-“

“Itty- what’s up?” Clarences exited the office with another coworker, some new young girl who did clerical work. Y/N was sure that Clarence was fucking the girl with the way she was pressed up against his back giving him googly eyes. That itty didn’t fall on deaf ears. Erik was in full on attack mode before Y/N could even stop him.

“Clarence, right?” Erik approaches him, “You got a problem with staying in your lane, bruh. I’m sure my girl told you already that she got a man. Now...I came all the way up here to put my hands on you but I ain’t even about to do that,” Erik turns, grabbing Y/N, “This girl right here, she’s mines. Whatever goes down at work she’ll tell me, and then I’ll pull up and put my hands on you...do you understand what I’m saying Clarence? So this is a warning. Figured I should come up here so you know I’m serious.”

“Man,” Clarence laughs in Erik’s face. Y/N could tell by the way his hands shook that he was scared to death of Erik. Clarence wanted to appear unbothered while the young girl behind him watched, “You wasted your time coming all the way up here. That’s yours, cool, I don’t want no problems.”

“You got a habit of laughing at shit that ain’t funny.”

Y/N knew that Clarence was provoking Erik. People within the shopping center started paying attention to them and now Y/N was afraid that Erik will end up bashing Clarence’s face in.

“Erik, the food, remember?” Y/N wrapped her arm around Erik’s bicep, “Let’s go,” she was up on her tiptoes, placing a soft kiss to Erik’s cheek.

“Remember what I said-“

Clarence cuts Erik off, “No need to repeat yourself over and over-“

“I’ll repeat myself however many time I need to...this lame ass nigga man-“

“Lame?! I’m not the one out here acting a fool over a chick who ain’t even all that-“

Erik’s first cocked back swiftly. Y/N didn’t see it coming. Frozen with fear Y/N covered her mouth in shock. Clarence stumbled and flinched, hands coming up in surrender.

“Look at you, weak as fuck,” Erik’s fist was centimeters away from hitting Clarence. Erik wanted to shake Clarence up. If he wanted to hit him, he could have stomped all over him until he was a bloody pulp but the thought of Y/N’s job being jeopardized stopped him. Clarence peeked at Erik through his fingers, slowly backing away before straightening his body.

“I would have bloodied you up but my girl needs her job. Doesn’t mean if I see you I won’t fuck you up. Don’t you ever disrespect my girl like that. I bet you learned your lesson today, didn’t you?”

Y/N shared a look with the young girl she worked with, noticing how turned off she was when Clarence cowarded away. She wrenched her eyes away, yanking on Erik’s arm to get his attention.

“Babe, I think he heard you, let’s go before some shit pops off.”

“...I’m coming, baby girl,” intensely, Erik gives Clarence one final look before wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “Aight Clarence, I hope you and your child have a good rest of your day.”

Erik!”

“Nah, that laughing shit got me hot, then this nigga had the nerve to get big on me...kiss me before I turn around and put his ass in the ground, he don’t know, I’m really a cold-blooded killer.”

Y/N grabs his chin to make him look at her before they walked inside of the carry out. Erik was being stubborn, trying to look everywhere else but at her face. Clarence and the young clerical worker were too busy flirting and avoiding coming anywhere near Y/N and Erik.

“Aye, you missed me?”

Erik kisses his teeth, “what you think?”

“Nah, I want you to tell me,” Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s waist.

Erik’s lips twisted up to fight a smile. The outraged look in his eyes seemed to clear and now they were affectionate and soft like Y/N loved.

“...yeah, I missed you.”

“Okay. If you missed me then let’s enjoy lunch and then I can clock out early and we can go home. I don’t want you all worked up over this bullshit. He ain’t got all of this, you do.”

“Damn right I do,” Erik pulled Y/N closer to his body, his hands coming down and around to grab her ass, “all of this is mines-“

“Okay, baby,” Y/N didn’t want to get Erik too worked up since they were in public. Y/N slipped away from his firm grip to open the door. When she walked in, there was a Latino couple with N-95 masks on. Y/N and Erik sanitized there hands with some wipes that she carried with her everywhere before walking towards the front to order food.

“Miss Y/N! How are you? Same thing as usual?”

“Hello Mr. Dean,” Y/N avoided touching any surfaces and Erik lingered behind her, “Yes same thing for me, a shrimp salad sandwich and for him he’ll have a shrimp cheese steak with fries.”

“Foot long or half?”

“Foot long, and can you add extra cheese and lettuce to that please?” Erik says over Y/N’s shoulder.

“Of course, anything else?

“Two kiwi strawberry Mistic’s for me, how about you baby girl?”

“I’ll just have water I’m not in the mood for anything sweet.”

“Yeah, cuz you’re already sweet enough,” Erik bites his lip all tantalizing while his hands caresses her butt.”

“Daddy, chill, wait until we get home-“

“You mean wait until we get in the car?

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger fanfiction

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sick-atsumu-side · 4 years

Text

6. Before a Match | Miya Atsumu

Disclaimer: All of the characters belongs to Haruichi Furudate, they’re not mine.

Warnings: description of vomit.

Name: Before a Match.

Geez, I love this man so much so i make him suffer... sorry about that, the next one would be another character I swear! And, this is not exactly what I wrote before but I tried my best! Hope you enjoy💘 and remember you can always let a prompt/request on the ask box.

This was the big day, the day of the final match. The match where Inarizaki could win the entire Nationals or just stay in second place, which wasn’t too bad either, however, they have waited for this opportunity to come for three years. They had to win today, and enjoy the final game of the year.

Pitifully, Miya Atsumu was now cursing himself on the bathroom next to the men’s dressing room. His hands were shaking as he grabbed the sink for dear life, and he could feel sweat running down his back too. Besides, his face was totally a sick dog, with bags under his eyes and a paller tone than the usual. He could see it clearly on the mirror he had in front.

“Fuck.” he muttered, giving out a shaky breath as another wave of nausea overwhelmed him. That was the worst part of his unwellness, because he could actually play without the nausea and just the stomachache. But that wasn’t the case.

Suddendly, the door slammed open and he jumped a little in surprise. However, he remained calm when he realized that was just his brother going to pee on the urinary behind him.

Atsumu spitted saliva into the sink and didn’t say a thing. He just stayed there, hoping that the pain and the nausea would go away soon, so that way he could go and warm-up with the rest of the team. Hell, the angry gurgles of his stomach were clearly not a good sign. He felt so bloated and gross.

“Kita-san would know anyway, get the idea already.” Osamu said softly, after finishing what he was doing to just go and wash his hands next to his brother.

Atsumu grumbled in response. His middle hurted so bad.

“You look like shit.” Samu insisted, this time looking clearly at him. “Bad news for the setter, I guess you won’t be playing today.”

“Can you shut yer’ mouth? You stupid dickhead.” the blonde shivered a little and swallowed hard at the nausea and saliva increasing in his mouth, feeling how his stomach was upside down in that moment. He could hear the angry sounds his organ was making, and he knew for sure that his brother heard it too. “I still can play, y’know.”

“Sure. Did you take a shit already? That doesn’t sound good.” Atsumu shook his head and burped slightly on his fist. “I told you not to eat those Tacos last night, y’know.”

“G-god, felt sa’ bad.” he moaned, curling up a little and placing one hand on his stomach as he closed his eyes. Osamu sighed.

“And you wanna play like this? Seriously?”

Atsumu belched loudly and sickly into the sink, feeling the taste of bitter in the back of his throat as his entire body convulsed with a heave. Samu grimaced at the sickening sound.

“I’m gonna be sick, Samu.”

“Like, now?”

The blonde nodded, his lips shaking.

“Do it in the toilet, you dirty pig.” Osamu grabbed him by the shirt and practically threw him in front of a toilet with urgency. Atsumu whined again, spitting saliva and this time grabbing the sides of the toilet with both hands. “Just let it happen, don’t put suspense on it.”

The blonde gave out another burp and jerked forward as saliva and bile poured from his mouth like a fountain. He was mad now, really mad. Not for his sickness, but because Kita won’t let him play in that condition and he knew that. He knew that the bad and putrid feeling of his stomach just wouldn’t go away.

Why today?

“Guys, what’s taking you so long? Kita said we have to go to the court, so we can warm-up properly.” It was Aran’s voice, as he stepped inside the bathroom with Suna behind. “Whoa, what happened? Why is Tsumu’ in front of the toilet?”

“He’s sick.” Samu sighed.

“I’m not. Just...give me a minute. I’ll be over with this.” Atsumu said, before another wave of nausea hitted his body, making him shiver again. His team shirt was soaked in sweat at this point.

“If he is sick, who is gonna play in his place? You, Samu’?”

“It’s the best option, but we have to ask Kita-san first.”

A big and wet belch sounded from the pit of Atsumu’s stomach, bringing out a bit of his lunch on the toilet, splashing it loudly in the water. Suna wrinkled his nose, and Osamu patted his back slowly.

“There you go.” he said, as Atsumu belched more vomit without advice, his entire throat filling up with the warm and disgusting taste of acid mixed with rice. “Just let it out, it was about time for you to be sick.”

“What are we gonna do now? He can’t play like this but we can’t let him all alone here, either. ” Suna said, with Aran nodding in a serious way. They were worried, and Osamu knew that. He was worried too.

Atsumu cursed on his mind, as another retch bringed out more vomit into the water, this time more liquid than before. The sound of it echoing on the entire bathroom. Atsumu closed his eyes and heaved, that way he couldn’t watch that pale brown liquid in front of his face. It was disgusting.

“Should we tell the coach or get a nurse?” Aran asked, too much worried at the horrified sounds his teammate was doing. “He really sounds pretty bad to me. Samu’, your mom came today? Maybe she could take him to the hospital or-”

“No, she bring us bad luck.” Samu said, still rubbing circles on his brother back as he jerked forward with another sickly burp, throwing up again. “I think we should tell Kita-san first, this asshole will want to play anyway and someone has to say him no.”

“You kidding?” Samu shook his head and Suna covered his nose. The smell was a bad thing too.

“Fuck you.” Aran sighed at the barely insult they received from him. “I-I’ll be over with this and i’m going to the court.”

“No, you’re not.” Osamu practically slapped at him with his words. “I’m gonna take your place, it’s not a big deal. Besides, I already told you it’s your fault for eating those Tacos even if I told you not to. Why? Because you don’t ever listen to me. So please don’t be a dick right now.”

“You told me not to eat those Tacos because YOU wanted to eat them! Not for my good sake! You double-dealing pig!”

“Wait, you ate Tacos? Are you stupid?”

Atsumu retched hard again, his whole body jerking forward as he bringed more pale and stinky brown liquid onto the soiled water, coughing at the end of it. He felt absolutely like a piece of trash, and now his eyes were more watery than before. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t let them know.

“I thought Samu’ would be the one doing something nasty like that a night before a game, not Tsumu.” Suna said, still covering his nose and mouth with his hand.

“Can you just shut the fuck up?! I-g” Atsumu was coughing and retching nothing more than saliva and bile by now, but he was so pissed off with them that the bad feeling was a second thing for him right now. “Fuck.”

“You done?” Osamu asks, trying to flush the toilet with his hand but Atsumu didn’t let him. “You guys could go and get Kita-san, we’re running out of time.”

“Don’t treat me like a fucking baby, stupid grown ass pig.” Atsumu sat down abruptly next to the toilet stall, breathing faster than he would have liked. “And don’t fucking touch me, I’m fine.”

“You wanna fight? Really? What are you, a five year old kid?” Osamu was starting to get pissed off too, and Aran just sighed with annonyance. “If you’re so fine as you tell, then stand up and go to the court with us. You’ll be on the bench anyway.”

“Don’t look at me like it’s my fucking fault! Just stop it!”

“Tsumu, stop yelling at me or i’m going to fucking drown you in your own vomit. I’m serious.” Osamu clearly was pissed off with him, and Aran wanted to separate them but Suna didn’t let him.

“Let go of me!” Atsumu tried to move away from Osamu’s hands when he tried to stand him up. But the blonde clearly was out of energy after being sick, so he stayed on the ground. And moaned at the angry sound of his stomach. “Fuck. I still can play, this is bullshit.”

Aran and Suna understood the situation and didn’t protest when they leaved the bathroom at the signal Osamu made for them.

“We’ll be there in a minute.” He said before they left, and went to grab Atsumu’s shoulder. “C’mon, don’t be a baby and get you ass off the ground.”

Atsumu started to cry in silence as a response, clearly ashamed and mad for doing it in front of Osamu. Nonetheless, everything felt so bad inside of him that he couldn’t help it, and the worst part of the situation was the match that’ll be starting in a few minutes. He really wanted to play that day, and now he would be stuck on the bench. What a miserable person he was.

Osamu sighed, leaving his annonyance in second place.

“Tsumu, you can’t play like this. You know that.” he said. “So what’s the point in doing this tantrum?” Osamu patted his shoulder.

“I wan’t to play.” Atsumu sobs slightly, and grabs his stomach as he felt it grumbling again. God, he felt so bad.

“You wanna play and puke on the court?That’s what you want?” Osamu was serious, and Atsumu shook his head, swallowing hard because of the sobs. “Well, that’s what is going to happen if you actually play. Then we’ll have to put you in the bench anyway and you’ll be ashamed because of it. Puking on TV is not a good thing, y’know.”

Atsumu didn’t say a thing and just swallowed saliva at the still nauseous feeling, not even looking at Osamu or the two guys who entered to the bathroom to pee. They were from another unknown team, but still, they were looking at him occasionally.

“Can you walk now? We gotta make it to the court.” Osamu insisted. “I think Kita-san is on his way.”

The blonde covered his mouth with his free hand, gagging on it without advice. Geez, he was going to be sick again.

“Tsumu, do it in the-”

Osamu couldn’t end his sentence even if he saw it coming. Atsumu retched a tiny puddle of transparent bile on the ground between his legs. Then he rapidly reached the toilet again with his hands to dry heave on it.

“Nevermind.”

Atsumu coughed and gagged nothing but bile or saliva for a few minutes, then he tried to stand up and Osamu finally flushed the toilet. And about the puddle of bile on the ground, maybe they would clean it later. They had no time.

When Kita entered the bathroom, the two of them froze.

“Let’s go, the match’s gonna start.”

“Kita-san, sorry. I didn’t mean to get sick and-”

“Aran and Suna already told me.” Kita slapped Atsumu with his words, as they get out of the bathroom rapidly. “You’re going to sit on the bench next to me and Osamu would take your place, so hurry up. We have a game to win.”

“Kita-san...”

Osamu practically started to run and leaved them behind. The match was really about to start and he had to be there. At least, Atsumu and Kita won’t be playing that day.

“Hold onto me if you want, and let me know if you’re going to be sick.” Kita said, this time grabbing Atsumu by the elbow. “We’ll have a conversation later about you wanting to play in this condition, but for now try to rest and enjoy the game from outside. We have the strongest teammates and we train everyday, so don’t worry about it.”

Atsumu swallowed saliva and smirked a little. He was so glad of having such amazing teammates. Including Osamu, but he would not say it.

He was really grateful, grateful of having Kita as a captain.

#miya atsumu #haikyuu #sickfics #vomiting #miya osamu #kita #stomachache #haikyuu sickfics

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 6 years

Text

Whisper

For the weekly reddie prompt by @fyeahreddie

Rating: Teen and Up

Word count: 2,954

Located in AO3

“I told you, Ma, I don’t want to go!” Eddie tells his mother as determined as possible.

“Eddie bear, you’re going and that’s final.”

“But Ma, it’s almost half the summer! I won’t be able to see my friends!”

Sonia grimaces, “It will do you good to spend some time away from them.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, taking a deep breath, somehow all of their arguments always end up being about his choice of friends.

“They’re my friends. You can’t make me stop seeing them.”

“Unfortunately, no. But I can take you with me to visit your aunt and keep you away from them for the summer. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” his mom says, done with the argument.

But Eddie isn’t done. He stands up straight and glares at his mother. Then, with as much resolve as he can muster, he says, “No, I won’t.”

Mrs. Kaspbrak turns to face him, scandalized.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I won’t go with you. I’m sixteen, I can take care of myself for a couple of weeks while you’re away. You can go visit your sister, but I’m not going.”

Eddie watches as his mother’s face turns a deep shade of red and her eyes grow so wide they look like they might pop out. She is holding on to the kitchen table so tight that her knuckles turn white.

Eddie prepares for the inevitable yelling coming his way. Instead, his mother answers in a calm collected voice, which is honestly far more frightening.

“You either come with me this summer or next year, we’re moving to Haven with your aunt Sylvia. See how you and your friends like that.”

The color drains from Eddie’s face, “Y-y-you wouldn’t.” God, he sounds just like Bill. “You hate her, you wouldn’t want to live with her, you’re always complaining about her when we visit, you―”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, waving him off, “She is growing old and sick and she needs help. We must help those in need, Eddie bear. Besides, if it means finally dragging you away from those vandals you call friends, who have turn you into such a rebellious teenager, you better believe I would.”

Eddie gawks at her in disbelief, he can feel his eyes sting with tears but he refuses to cry in front of his mother. He hasn’t in a long time and he isn’t going to start now.

“That’s not fair,” Eddie says and he hates how his voice cracks, showing his mother just how affected he is.

“Life is as fair as it is safe, Edward,” Sonia says. Then, knowing she won the argument, she turns her back on his son and leaves the kitchen.

Eddie thinks of following her and fighting with her some more, but he knows it’s pointless. He is going with her and there is nothing he can do about it.

The thought of not seeing his friends for five weeks brings back the urge to cry, his throat tightens and his vision turns blurry. He flees to his room and forcefully slams the door shut, knowing his mother will hear it and it will make her angry. Good, he thinks, if I am angry, she should be too.

As soon as he is in his room, he can’t hold back the tears anymore. He throws himself into his bed and starts crying, gripping the pillow tight and occasionally hitting the mattress in anger.

He falls asleep at some point because he wakes up hours later, when there’s no longer sunlight shining through the window. He feels tired and his eyes are swollen from crying.

He hears his mother knocking on his door, which must be what woke him up in the first place.

The thought of his mother brings Eddie’s anger back to the surface and he glares at the door.

“Eddie bear? Dinner’s ready, come eat with me,” she tells him, sweetly as if she hadn’t crushed his summer plans less than a few hours ago.

Eddie doesn’t answer, not only does he not want to talk to her at all, he also knows his voice will come out hoarse and cracked if he does and she will know he had been crying.

“I know you’re not asleep, Eddie,” she says, growing angry, but Eddie doesn’t answer, “Fine, if you want to stay in there and skip dinner, do it but at least start packing, we leave on Monday.”

Eddie groans into the pillow, not caring if his mom hears him or not.

He feels his eyes prickle with tears again but he is done crying, it only makes him feel worse. He needs something to cheer him up, take his mind off of his mother and the summer that awaits him.

As quietly as possible he pads over to his desk where a landline phone is. He dials a phone number that he knows by heart and waits.

Three rings later, he hears someone pick up.

“Casa de Tozier, Richie speaking.”

Eddie lets out a sigh of relief when Richie is the one who answers.

“Richie?” Eddie whispers. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother was listening from the other side of the door and even if she wasn’t, his room is so close to the kitchen that she might hear him if he raises his voice over a whisper.

“Eddie Spaghetti, hey!” Richie says, excited. Then he lowers his voice, “why are we whispering?”

“My mom doesn’t know I’m calling you and I don’t want her to hear me,” Eddie says and he cringes at how hoarse his voice sounds. He hopes Richie doesn’t notice.

But he is not that lucky.

Richie frowns, “Is everything okay, Eds?” he asks, his usual mocking tone gone, replaced by sincere concern.

“Of course, everything is great,” Eddie says, without a trace of excitement in his voice.

Richie scoffs, “Right. I can tell that you’ve been crying and you didn’t even give me shit for calling you Eddie Spaghetti. Forgive me if I don’t buy it.”

“I’m fine, Rich, really.” Eddie tries to make his voice as normal as possible, but he knows it’s pointless. Richie knows him like the back of his hand.

“Bullshit, Eds.”

Eddie sighs, “I don’t want to talk about it.” If he did, he would start crying again and that’s the opposite of why he called Richie in the first place.

Richie sighs in frustration, “Then what? What do you want me to do, Eds?”

That, Eddie does know how to answer. “Cheer me up, tell me the best joke you’ve got.”

Is clear Richie wants to argue, but instead he says, “All my jokes are amazing, Eds. How am I supposed to choose? Do you want a dirty joke? A silly joke? A your-mom joke?”

“Not a your-mom joke, please. I don’t want to think about her.”

“Ah, so that’s who’s got you so upset. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Rich.”

“Okay, sorry. So dirty joke or not?”

“No dirty jokes, please.”

“Prude. Alright, I got it,” Richie clears his throat, “What goes in hard and dry but comes out soft and wet?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Richie, I said―”

“Chewing gum! Ha-ha!” Richie exclaims and Eddie can perfectly picture him and his silly grin on the other end of the line.

He surprises himself by letting out a chuckle, his hand flies to his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet, worried that his mother will hear him. He grabs the phone and moves to the bed, away from the door.

“That’s your best joke?”

“Hey, it made you laugh!” Richie says, offended.

Eddie snorts, “Because of how bad it was.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that. I’m fucking hilarious, Eds.”

“Prove it.”

“Oh, is that a challenge, Eddie my love?”

Eddie chokes on his spit and blushes, just like he always does when Richie calls him that. Not trusting his voice, he hums in response.

Richie clears his throat once again, “The other day the police arrested two kids, one was drinking battery acid, the other was eating fireworks,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “They charged one – and let the other one off.”

This time Eddie can’t help laughing, he grabs a pillow and burrows his face in it to smother the sound of his laughter. He is still holding the phone to his ear and he is sure Richie can hear him laughing into the pillow, he knows there's probably a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Without giving Eddie a chance to recover, Richie asks, “What is a cannibal’s first choice in a restaurant?” Again, he pauses before delivering the punch line, “The waiter.”

Stupid jokes or not, they have Eddie lying on his side, face pressed against his pillow, crying for the second time that day, this time of laughter.

Richie is really enjoying hearing Eddie laugh like this, especially after hearing the sadness in his friend’s voice when he first called.

“Where do you get virgin wool from?” Richie says, “Ugly sheep!”

By now, Eddie is convulsing with laughter and having trouble breathing.

“Richie―oh God, please stop,” Eddie says, gasping for air, “My stomach hurts.”

But Richie is having too much of a good time to stop, “Sorry what was that, Eds, one more joke? Sure thang, mah man. What’s black, red, black, red, black, red?”

“Richie no―” Eddie warns him.

But Richie ignores him, “A zebra with a sunburn!”

Eddie continues laughing until his laughter is reduced to giggles. Richie finds that the sound of Eds giggling is just as adorable through the phone as it is in person.

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie says, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“But Eds, hearing you laugh is like hearing angels sing. How can you deprive me of that?”

“You’re going to give me an asthma attack, you idiot.”

Richie seems to consider it, he sighs, “Fine.”

“Thank you, Rich.”

“I’m only stopping because I’m not there to shove a fucking inhaler into your mouth.”

Eddie chuckles, “Okay. But that’s not what I was thanking you for.”

“For what then, Eds?”

“Taking my mind off of things, making me laugh, even though I know it pissed you off that I didn’t tell you what was wrong,” Eddie says, staring at the ceiling and playing with the phone’s cord.

“It didn’t piss me off, I just― I was worried, I still am.”

Eddie doesn’t answer for a long time, his breathing the only sign that he’s still on the line. Richie doesn’t say anything either, but Eddie can hear movement through the phone, he is probably walking around his living room, incapable of sitting still.

Eddie hadn’t meant to worry him, he had called Richie because he was the best at making Eddie laugh and he had needed someone to cheer him up, but now that he had made him worry, he felt bad, it wasn’t fair for him.

“My mom is forcing me to go with her to my aunt’s house in Haven this summer.”

The shuffling stops and he hears Richie groan, “For how long?”

“Five weeks.”

Richie gasps, “Five weeks? Shit Eds, that’s like―”

“Half the summer? Yeah.”

“And there’s absolutely no way she’ll let you stay here? Or come back early?” Richie asks, hopeful.

“None, I tried. I told her I wasn’t going, that I was old enough to stay home alone and that she couldn’t make me go.”

Richie chuckles, “That’s my boy.”

Eddie feels his stomach flutter at that. He clears his throat and continues, “She said that if I didn’t go with her, she would move us in permanently with her next year.”

“What the fuck? She can’t do that!” Richie exclaims, outraged. Eddie hears the sound of a chair falling, Richie must have stood up abruptly, making the chair fall.

“She can. She’s my mother.”

“Well, I’d like to see her try. I’ll fight her if she does. You fucking bet I will.”

Eddie snorts, “You’ll fight my mom?”

“Uh huh.”

“I thought you loved her,” Eddie says with a chuckle.

“Yeah well, I love you more,” Richie says. He hears Eddie gasp and he realizes what he just said, “I mean, uh, you’re― I wouldn’t let her drag you away from me. Us. Your friends I mean,” he stammers, nervous.

Eddie smiles at his ceiling, “Richie?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I love you too,” Eddie says, grateful that Richie can’t see the way he’s blushing or the dopey smile on his face, “but please don’t fight my mom. She would crush you and still move us away.”

“Wow, you think that little of me, Eds?”

Eddie chuckles, “I’ve seen you fight, Rich. It’s pathetic.”

Richie huffs, “So what? I’m just supposed to sit and watch while she moves you away?”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. After all, she’s getting what she wants, which is to ruin my summer by not letting me spend it with you.”

Richie sighs, “This fucking sucks.”

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, “Fucking tell me about it. I’m going to miss you so much, all of you.”

“But mostly me, eh?” Richie jokes.

“I mean, I’ll kill you if you tell the others but, yeah, mostly you and your ugly face and big mouth.”

He can hear the shit-eating grin on Richie’s voice, “You love this face, Eds. As for this big mouth, you should know it has its advantages.”

“Beep beep, asshole.” Eddie says, shaking his head. Richie lets out a chuckle. “Promise me you won’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

Richie snorts, “As if. I will― I mean, we will probably be miserable.”

“Not as miserable as me, I bet―” He hears movement in the kitchen and he snaps his mouth shut, worried that his mother heard him and it’s coming to his room to take the phone away from him.

“Eds?”

Eddie shushes him and waits but his mother never comes barging into his room.

He sighs in relief, “Sorry, I thought my mom heard us,” he whispers.

“So, when are you leaving?”

“Monday.”

Alarmed, Richie exclaims, “Monday? But that’s one day away!”

“I know.”

Richie groans, “That’s it. You’re coming over tomorrow.”

Eddie frowns, “If your plan is to hide me and hope my mom just leaves me behind, you should know she would burn your house down before doing that.”

“Well shit, there goes my plan!” Richie replies, making Eddie chuckle. “No, but seriously, you’re coming over.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, confused.

“Because, my dearest Eddie, if I’m not going to see you for five weeks I should at least get to say goodbye properly.”

“I can’t come over tomorrow, Rich.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we’re all going to the quarry, remember? Bill told us yesterday.”

“Shit, yeah, I forgot.” Richie says, upset.

“You can say goodbye to me there. You all can.”

“Uh huh.”

Eddie frowns at Richie’s tone, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that the moment everyone knows you’re leaving they will be all over you and, I uh, I kind of wanted it to be just us, you know. It’s silly, I know and fucking selfish.”

“It’s not,” Eddie says, quietly, “You can come over later tonight. If you want.”

Richie lit up at that, “Really?”

“Yeah, you might need to climb through the window though, and we need to be quiet, if my mom finds out, she’ll kill you.”

“No problemo, Spaghetti-o. I was in the mood for climbing a tree anyways.”

Eddie chuckles, “Try to be quiet though, she almost caught you last time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eds, I’m stealthy like a ninja.”

Eddie snorts, “So stealthy that you tripped on your way in and brought my desk chair down with you.”

“That desk chair shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It wasn’t the chair’s fault. You’re just clumsy.”

“I am not!” When he hears Eddie huff, he adds, “Okay, maybe a little.”

Eddie chuckles, “I’ll see you soon, you idiot.”

“Don’t forget to leave your window open.”

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says, preparing to hang up. But before he does, he adds, “Hey Rich?”

“Yeah, Eds?”

“Thanks again, you always know how to make me feel better.”

“You don’t have to thank me. There’s nothing I enjoy doing more, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiles, “Don’t call me that.”

Richie laughs, “Now there’s the Eds I know and love.”

Eddie giggles and he feels like a high school girl with a crush, lying in bed, twirling the phone’s cord around his finger and giggling at Richie’s flirting. He needs to pull himself together by the time Richie shows up because then he won’t be able to hide his blush behind a phone. That doesn't keep him from wanting Richie to get there though.

“Bye, Richie,” Eddie whispers, a smile on his face before hanging up the phone.

He hears his mother leave the kitchen then, probably going to her room to sleep. Eddie can’t help being glad, he might have been able to keep quiet while on the phone with his friend, but Richie himself is incapable of being quiet.

Eddie opens the window and goes to lie on his bed to wait for Richie to get there. He thinks it’s crazy how less than an hour ago he had been feeling terrible and now he’s in a great mood, all thanks to him.

Sure he’s still angry at his mother and hates the idea of spending his summer away from his friends, away from Richie but he thinks that maybe this is the way he will make it through, without being completely miserable, exchanging whispered phone conversations with the only person who can make it all better for him, one Richie Tozier.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster@beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee@pennys-pet-kitty @thetheatregal @tinyarmedtrex @sam-i-am2468@nicoperryy

Please let me know what you thought ❤️

#reddie #reddie fic #reddie one shot #reddie oneshot #fyeahreddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #my work #my writing #reddie f #it 2017 #it stephen king

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poorlilbeans · 6 years

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The Grossest Day of Yuuri’s Life

I haven’t figured out how to submit a post to the official page cause i’m an idiot, but here’s my fic for day one of sick days!

Summary: Yuuri, Victor, Phichit, Chris, Yuri and Otabek are stuck in an elevator together and Yuuri is hella sick. (2600 words)

WARNINGS: Vomit, poop, accidents, mild anxiety, crying, fever/delirium, confined spaces, hospital/ambulance mention. Really, this fic is fucking disgusting. Also there are a couple of lines in French, and my French is probably very rusty. Proceed with caution.

Years later, in an interview, Yuuri and Victor would be asked, “What’s the grossest thing that’s ever happened to you?” Yuuri would blush to his toes, laugh bashfully, and Victor would take his hand as the two did their best to recount a somewhat television friendly version of the story. It was just a memory, maybe a little funny in hindsight, and absolutely embarrassing. Currently, however, it was not years later. It was nearly 10pm, and Yuuri was stuck in an elevator with the Stomachache to End All Stomachaches.

They were in Quebec City in the dead of winter- some of the biggest names in figure skating had showed up for this invitational competition. It was a grand two day event, not a part of the grand prix series but still as competitive as ever, all in the name of fun, skating, and good sportsmanship. After free skates were done Victor and Yuuri had gone for a walk around the city, and shared a poutine for lunch before being invited by Chris to a Quebecois sugar shack for dinner. It had been loud and crowded, the cozy restaurant absolutely packed with hungry athletes. Yuuri was absolutely determined to be normal tonight; yes, he had been around people all freaking day, and yes, he was stressed, exhausted, and fighting to ignore a headache. But damn it, he was going to be normal, and he used up all the energy he could muster to socialize, and tuned out J.J’s boring rant about how awful American beer is compared to Canadian beer, how he’d drink a whole litre of the stuff if he didn’t have to drive home tonight, and joined everyone else in indulging in servings of tourtiere, pancakes, and Canadian maple bacon. He suffered in the cold with everyone else learning to roll sticks of snow taffy, and left for the hotel feeling uncomfortably full, but also pretty proud of himself for participating in all this social activity. With some of the younger skaters having left early to go to bed and J.J heading home with Isabella, Yuuri, Victor, Chris, Phichit, Yuri, and Otabek arrived back at the hotel together to spend some time relaxing in one of their rooms.

All of the skaters for this particular competition were housed on the ninth floor. Huddling into the elevator, Yuuri found himself burying his face in Victor’s scarf, dreading spending any time in someone else’s room, or worse, having other people in their room. His stomach hurt. His head hurt. His fingers and toes were tingling, and he felt cold sweat building and dripping under his jacket. In the cab home he’d assumed it was just anxiety- it had been a big day, after all- but now he felt sick and weak, and was feeling symptoms of his anxiety entirely separate from all of that. The lift started moving and Victor was stroking his back, always in tune with how Yuuri was feeling, but somebody else in the elevator knew him at least as well, and wasn’t interested in subtlety the way that Victor was. That somebody poked Yuuri on the butt with a selfie stick to get his attention.

“You don’t have to keep hanging out with everybody if you don’t feel up to it,” Phichit reminded him, poking his butt again when he hesitated to respond. Yuuri managed a half-smile and hip checked the device away from him, biting his lip when the movement sent a ripple of discomfort through his stomach. Phichit’s slightly-louder-than-intended voice had summoned all eyes on him, and Yuuri was working his jaw around an excuse about being tired when the elevator came to a creaking halt, stuck between the seventh and eighth floors. Everyone startled, and Otabek was the first to get his shit together and press the call button. Yuuri gulped, feeling his heart (and stomach) drop straight to his ass. There was a pause, and then a crackling voice sounded through an overhead speaker.

Bonsoir, Hôtel de Jardin Royale. All eyes rested on Chris, and noting he was already absorbed in tweeting about the stuck elevator, Victor rolled his eyes and spoke up.

“Allo, nous avons six personnes dans l’ascenseur, et il ne bouge pas. Aussi, nous sommes internationel. Parlez vous Anglais?” There was another brief pause, followed by:

Un moment, s’il vous plait. There was a clunk as the employee put them on hold, and Chris glanced up from his phone.

“His accent was fucking disgusting,” he commented, before busying himself again in Twitter.

“Your face is fucking disgusting,” Victor replied. Yuuri whimpered in discomfort and Victor brought a gentle hand up to his hair, gently petting him and scratching his scalp.

“What did you say?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“I just told him the elevator stopped and we’re all stuck in here. I think he’s getting someone who speaks English for us.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re claustrophobic,” Yurio snapped. He leveled Yuuri with an accusatory, if a little concerned, look.

“I’m fine, I just-

Hello, this is the hotel manager. Are you all alright up there?

“Hi,” Phichit chirped brightly. “We’re stuck.”

Yes, the engineers are already on their way.

“How quickly can you get us out?” Yuuri asked, and everyone raised their eyebrows. After all, this was basically a phone call, something Yuuri usually Did Not do.

It depends. The engineers will evaluate the problem and whether it’s safe to pull you all out before they get to work. If there is a medical emergency, and it is safe to do so, we can call the fire department to get you down.

“Are you okay?” Victor whispered, meeting Yuuri’s eyes.

“I have to go to the bathroom!” Yuuri wailed. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just blurted out. “I mean- I…” Yurio was howling with laughter, but everyone else at least looked sympathetic.

“So that’s what’s wrong with you,” Chris chuckled. Yuuri could swear he heard the manager holding back a snicker as well, but maybe it was just his imagination. He hoped.

Unfortunately that doesn’t count as a medical emergency- I couldn’t legally call 911 because you need the washroom. However we’ll do our best to get you out of there as quickly as possible.

Yuuri turned and buried his face in Victor’s scarf again. The pain in his stomach was quickly turning into nausea, and he was feeling weaker and shakier by the second. He zoned out as the manager gave them a generic hang in there and hung up the phone for the time being, only tuning back into reality when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

PHICHIIIT<3- Are you really okay?-

Yuuri glanced up, giving a short nod when Phichit met his eyes. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t look convinced. There was silence for a moment, but Yuri was in the elevator too, so of course it didn’t last.

“So, you need to piss, Katsudon?”

Time was crawling. Yuuri had long since sat on the floor, too exhausted to stand, and Victor sat beside him, helping him out of his coat when he noticed how sweaty he was. Before long everyone else followed suit and made themselves comfortable. At this point Yuuri was swallowing convulsively, and they still had no idea how long their imprisonment would last. Weirdly enough, it was Otabek who finally spoke up.

“Victor, I think Yuuri is going to throw up.” Yuuri felt the weight of everyone’s eyes landing on him, but he just couldn’t muster the I’m fine this time. He was too tired. His stomach hurt too much. He heard Victor sigh, felt him rub his shoulder. He didn’t sound surprised.

“Does anyone have a bag or something?” Victor asked. His voice was low, worried. It was Yuuri’s fault.

“Here, use this.” Yuuri slit his eyes open and watched Phichit pull a couple of maple leaf and fleur de lis keychains and some maple candies out of a shopping bag and pass it to Victor. Victor took Yuuri’s hands, moved them so they held the handles of the bag.

“Just if you need it, okay?” Being given something to puke in instantly made him ten times more nauseous, but Yuuri bit his lip, desperate to suppress it. There was no way he would throw up in front of five other people. No wa-

Fuck.

No.

Yuuri was gagging uncontrollably, desperately swallowing back wave after wave of sick. Victor’s hands were on his back, in his hair, on his hands, making sure the bag was open. His voice was in his ear whispering “just let it out, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He pressed his hand against his mouth and Yuri’s voice floated into his consciousness.

“If he pukes I swear to god.” A wet burp escaped and tasted sickeningly like maple syrup, and that was the last straw. Vomit splashed forcefully into the shopping bag. Yuuri coughed and heaved, and he genuinely didn’t know if the tears pouring down his cheeks were from the strain or the humiliation. Maybe both. He tried taking a deep breath, but it turned into a retch halfway. His entire abdomen clenched against his will, and as he heaved again, hot lava loudly and painfully exited him, straight into his pants and onto the floor. By the time he caught a break everyone was silent, staring in horror. Half delirious, Yuuri wondered if it was obvious he’d just shit his pants. Then there was a crackle above him, and the speaker buzzed to life again.

The engineers are here, and they’re working on fixing the problem. Unfortunately you are stuck between floors, so it looks like they’ll have to repair the elevator to get you back down here. How’s everybody doing up there?

“One of us is really sick,” Phichit answered frantically. “Are you sure you can’t get us out to help him?”

Unfortunately it isn’t safe to try and pull you out, but if you need it I can call an ambulance and have it waiting for him when we get you down.

“He doesn’t need an ambulance, he needs a bed,” Victor sighed. He was running his hand through Yuuri’s hair. It was so cool. So nice. He almost felt like he could fall asleep…

RING RING!

Everyone jumped, and Yuuri snapped awake as Phichit rushed to silence his ringing phone.

“Oh, it’s Ciao Ciao,” he mumbled, sheepishly raising it to his ear. “Hey.”

“Hi, Ciao Ciao!” Yuuri sang. He felt drunk. The unrelenting pain and fever was intoxicating, and somehow, covered in sweat and shit, holding a bag of puke, Yuuri was suddenly feeling surprisingly social. Phichit glanced at him, making no effort to hide the concern in his eyes. Not that Yuuri minded; even high on a boiling brain, he was pretty well aware of what he looked like right now.

“Do you want me to put him on speaker, Yuu?” Yuuri grinned dopily, and Phichit pressed the speaker button, letting the hand holding his phone fall to his lap.

“Where are you two?” came Celestino’s voice, and Phichit rubbed at his eyebrow.

“We’re in a stuck elevator. In the hotel. Say hi, everyone.” Four voices chimed in with a hello, followed by a loud belch out of Yuuri, and a responding gag from Yurio.

“Text me next time, you’re always on your phone after all. Is Yuuri drunk?”

“No, he’s sick, and we’ve been stuck in here for almost an hour,” Phichit sighed.

“I’m not sick,” Yuuri defended, having no idea why he suddenly felt inclined to lie about this. “I just have to go to the bathroom.”

“You already went to the bathroom,” Yurio spat. Yuuri threw him a halfhearted dirty look, but it felt a bit ridiculous given the disgusting mess he was sitting in. Looking up, though, he realized everyone in the elevator looked pale and uncomfortable. Otabek was hiding his nose and mouth in his scarf. Chris had his knees brought up to his face so only his eyes were visible. Yuri was blatantly holding his nose, and Phichit was grimacing as he talked to Ciao Ciao in a low voice. Even Victor was breathing shallowly, coughing to himself as he cuddled Yuuri, hugging the source of the nasty smell like a trooper. Guilt flooded Yuuri’s being all at once, and he was crying before he had a chance to realize how upset he was. Time was racing and crawling at the same time. He could hear Victor talking in his ear, Phichit talking to Ciao Ciao, Yuri saying something to Chris and Otabek in his biting voice, but it all morphed into overwhelming white noise. He could hear his stomach grumbling inside of him- something was still definitely leaking out of the back end of him, and he felt his hands tremble at the thought that he might throw up again. He cried and cried, desperately wanting to stop but unable to even remember what it was like to not be crying. He cried so hard he threw up, and it caught him off guard- only about half the puke actually made it into the bag, the rest coating his hands and lap. Then Victor was wiping his hands with tissues from someone’s bag, but it didn’t even matter because Yuuri felt so utterly disgusting. He was sticky and wet and smelly and after all of this nonsense his stomach was STILL hurting. It wasn’t fair.

By the time the elevator groaned to life the cramping had become too much to handle, and Yuuri had felt everyone’s glares as a second wave of mush filled his pants. He was so dehydrated he ran out of tears, but his hiccupped sobs wouldn’t stop, as hard as he tried to hold them back. Everyone else cheered when the elevator started moving. Yuuri just gagged miserably.

Everyone stumbled desperately out onto the first floor, gasping for fresh air. Yurio ran and puked in the fancy trash can in the lobby. Otabek actually stepped outside for a few minutes. Victor carried Yuuri out, and Phichit carried the sacrificed shopping bag at an arm’s length, depositing it in the garbage once Yuri was out of the way. The engineers were now holding their breath as they continued to work on the faulty elevator. Obviously the cleaning staff would have to be called down as well. The manager was apologizing profusely, offering them all coupons they didn’t want.

“So,” Victor spoke up, “Can I get him up to our room in the other elevator, or is that one going to break down on us too?”

“The other elevator is working just fine. Although given the state of this one, I’d have to request that you do your best not to… make a mess in the working one.

“I won’t,” Yuuri groaned, probably surprising the manager. He looked like he was asleep in Victor’s arms. “I just want to go to sleep.” He felt Victor kiss his head and start off toward the working elevator.

“I’ll come with you,” came Phichit’s voice. Victor startled.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. He’s really not well, and… well, we’ve lived together before. I know it’s hard taking care of him, ‘cause he gets so sick. I can run a bath and buy some ginger ale from the vending machine while you wipe him off.” Yuuri listened and felt affection for his friend well up in his chest. People were so good to him.

“And we’ll take the stairs,” Chris announced cheerfully, prompting quick agreement from Yuri and Otabek. The six split up and Yuuri settled in Victor’s arms, exhausted and ready to be clean and in bed.

#sick days #bodily fluids #w!oi #sick yuuri #sick!yuuri #tw vomit #tw diarrhea #fever #stomach flu #whump #yoi whump #yuuri katsuki #victuuri #my writing

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unwilling-ships-surgeon · 6 years

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[swallowpropriety's lamb] ✗ - for my muse to respond to being scolded or punished by yours [ HOW DOES ONE EVEN PISS LAMB OFF ]

he hadn’t been aware that lamb had been keeping track. it had been roughly nine days since he had gotten into the fight that had left him the injury, a stupid fight that marcellus should have been smarter than to get involved in, but that hadn’t been when lamb’s mouth had started tightening at the corners. among the people they knew, getting into stupid fights hardly registered as a stupid decision, even when swords and (relatively) serious injuries were involved. lamb had rested his chin on marcellus’s good shoulder while marcellus stitched, packed, and poulticed the cut. that had been roughly nine days ago, and he’d gotten distracted kissing lamb, and lamb hadn’t brought up the fight so marcellus almost forgot that he had been there.

the first time he’d seen a shadow of something in lamb’s eyes was when the next day he was summoned rather abruptly to the guthries’ tavern where a man had been having convulsions and people’s minds had immediately jumped to poisoning (it was a man marcellus knew of, though he’d never met, and he simply helped the man onto his side and cleared the area and asked questions as he came back to himself. lamb had seen him kneeling on the admittedly filthy floor, working with essentially an open wound up against the frequently-foul clothing of the pirates of nassau. he’d torn a stitch having shoved his way to get to the man, but wouldn’t notice until later when he saw the blood on his shirt, it had torn high up on his shoulder. he hadn’t had time to talk to lamb, and exhausted, he’d used a mirror to stitch himself up again, and gone to bed without rebandaging or re-poulticing his wound. the next day the skin was stretched, red and puffy, and marcellus had to undo some of the stitches and redo them so he could clean the wound underneath. lamb had come in as marcellus had been throwing on a shirt, and had tugged the neck of it over to see the cut. marcellus had told him teasingly to leave it, as they had to meet up with oscar for… something or other, he didn’t remember. he spent all day outside, and at one point got thrown in the ocean. the next day he felt hot but didn’t register the fever until the day after, and only remembered to check on the cut the day after that. he got flint to ask howell to look at him, and most of the stitches had to be redone, and howell insisted he be leeched. he didn’t tell owl or lamb out of fear that they’d worry. they’d gotten into some hijinks anyways, and didn’t come to see him until the day after, by which time he’d gotten over being bedridden and gotten the overheated sick-sweet smell of fever out of his shop. owl had made a comment about him looking like shit, and lamb had tried to look at the cut but marcellus had caught his hand before he could touch it, only saying that he was fine. he’d packed and poulticed the wound and took care of it the whole day, and for all of the day after that.

on the seventh day, there was an armed fight in the tavern that spilled out onto the street, and marcellus forgot his arm was torn up when he cold-cocked someone on the street, before gripping his arm and briefly whiting out with pain. owl covered for him, lamb had been watching the store as people came in for bandages, and while owl made sure he had someone watching his back as he threw up from the pain of his arm and bled through his shirt, owl pretty much had made it cleared that marcellus lived and died by his own decisions in owl’s book. he grit his teeth and avoided asking that owl keep it from lamb, because he knew the second he did he would tell lamb immediately. when he got back to the store, he said that the blood on his shirt wasn’t his, and owl had cocked his head at that, and marcellus had caught his eye.

the day after, lamb and marcellus spent some of the day together, before marcellus couldn’t pretend not to be haggard, and claimed he hadn’t slept so he could go back to the shop and see that he hadn’t had the time to clean or restitch the wound from the previous night. the fever chills started late afternoon, and when owl and lamb came to collect him for dinner they found him passed out against the wall of his shop shirtless with needle and thread in his hand. from what marcellus could gather, they’d called the surgeon from the ranger because the walrus wasn’t docked, and marcellus had awoken to see the same something he had seen in lamb’s face the first night after he’d been injured out in full force as he held the hand of marcellus’s damaged hand.

lamb’s voice had been soft as he asked marcellus to go over what had happened since he’d first been injured. marcellus’s voice had shook as he’d answered, and the one of lamb’s hands that wasn’t holding marcellus’s had curled tighter and tighter as he spoke. he made a tight furious noise when marcellus mentioned having to call howell, and his face went tight when he mentioned being leeched. he nearly skipped over the fight the previous night, but owl oh-so-helpfully supplied the details when he was trying to gloss it over. that’s when lamb set his teeth and he knew that lamb knew that owl knew that marcellus was going to try to gloss it over. the only time lamb interrupted was to say softly when marcellus mentioned coming back, “yea, when you said it was someone else’s blood.” marcellus tries not to wince at that, but owl, who’s pacing can be heard softly from the other room, sticks his head back in to glare, catches him out in it, and he says, yeah, before continuing. lamb shakes his head through the account of the previous day, and when marcellus says “and that’s all i can remember,” says “when we got here, we found you.” marcellus winces, and his hands flex involuntarily when lamb drops his hand. there’s something deeply hurt and furious in the look lamb gives to oscar as he walks past him. marcellus winces as he hears the door slam, meets owl’s you brought this upon yourself stare, and nods at his “we’ll send someone to check on you in the morning.” the door bangs closed after him too, and marcellus remembers faintly that the door just does that, and can’t remember of lamb slammed it harder or if it was just like that. he feels cold, and like the world’s worst idiot. but his head is filled with static and low throbbing pain, so there’s nothing he can really do but try to find a position to sleep in that doesn’t light up his entire side. he thinks he might be crying, but he’s too far from himself to tell.

#this is upsetting and i feel bad #but also what would piss off lamb?#this i feel like would fit the bill #lamb #ask to tag #intolerablexsacrifice

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tellyourdadisaidhesabitch · 3 years

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i wasn’t gone for a month, i died

crying shitting throwing up convulsing pissing combusting and wheezing

#all of them

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saikostories · 4 years

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MHA - Training Camp (Alternate version) pt1

In which Kamino happened much earlier (for a completely different reason) and the training camp was to train ahead for the Pro-hero licencing exams as well as for an era without All Might.

He was down.

Is he going to stay down?

Izuku gasped through his pain, craning his neck to glance at the man - no, the creature, buried between the rubble. He was unconscious, not moving. Through his blurred and foggy vision, the green haired student could easily asses that he was still breathing. Good, that means he won't get in serious trouble, at least.

But for how long will he stay...

Izuku swayed, he blinked several times to try to clear his vision. His ears were ringing, and as much pain as he knew he was in, it was obvious that it was nothing compared to what he will feel when the adrenaline wore off. He took in a shaky breath. “I need to get to Kacchan,” He stated flatly to no one, straining when he realized how dry his throat suddenly was. “He's in danger. I don't know why or how but... Damit Izuku, move!“ He bit his lip and shifted his weight, sending a painful shockwave through his chest. "Fucking..."

This was my worst yet. Midoriya thought, my arms are toast. He clenched his teeth, All Might and Recovery Girl are both gonna lose it. He couldn't help but chuckle, but that was cut short when his body convulsed with pain and he collapsed to one knee, coughing up a thick crimson. When he recollected himself, he wiped his mouth only to stain his glove from the blood running down his face.Crap. Not good.

Kacchan… why Kacchan? Why… think, Izuku! His brain stumbled while he tried to sort through the muck and muddle of his thoughts, why do they want Kacchan?

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and after a failed attempt to pick himself back up, he cursed. Yeah, his arms were completely useless; He can't even feel them. There was a sharp pain every time he breathed, and dammit! He can't get the blurriness out of his eyes. Izuku’s thought process continued to topple around when he heard a whimper behind him. For a moment he froze, failing to get his arms up to defend himself. Then he remembered. Wait how could he have forgotten?

Shit! The kid. Izuku hissed, breathing out shallow while trying to collect his thoughts. Yes, Kota the kid.. who- who actually has a quirk! He would have rolled his eyes at the irony if he didn't think they would fall out of his head right now. He stumbled to gather his words.

“Kota, are you alright?” Izuku breathed. Fuck, talking hurts. He grimaced as he tried to take a deep breath. Everything was spinning, where was he? Why can't he... Right, focus… “a-are you hurt?”

Kota stood, “N-no… but w-why did you-?” The boy clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, a sob escaping his lips. “Why?! Even after what I did… I hit you, b-but you-” He began openly bawling and ran up to Izuku, wrapping himself around his hero’s leg. “I'm s-s-sorry! I'm sorry! Thank you!”

Izuku simply nodded, but that sent shockwaves throughout his body and he gasped. This is really bad, why- why is it so hard to breathe...

“I couldn't j-just let you be hurt...” He felt his consciousness ebbing away, blackness pricking the sides of his vision. “Listen, Kota…” the words were whispers that barely escaped his lips. The boy tightened his hold on Izuku and his breath quickened “Listen… g-go get to safety ‘kay? You've ‘gotta get ou’ of ‘ere. Cut through the ‘orest n’ don't stop...” His words slurred dangerously and he teetered. He needed to keep focusing on his breathing...

“No! What about you, I'm not leaving you- you can barely move!” Kota pleaded. He stepped back from Izuku, his eyes looking extensively at the injuries. “We gotta get you some help…” Izuku tried to stand again and failed, again. “S-stop, Midoriya, p-please!”

Izuku was fading faster than he anticipated. He couldn't hear the words that were spoken from the child, but he could feel the child's grip tightening. The pain was beating down his adrenaline in rapid waves. "Kota..." he struggled, gagging on what.. more blood? "You need... t-t- you need..."

"Midoriya!"

The ground was suddenly coming at him fast and he couldn't do anything to break his fall. His body would not move. Before the beckoning blackness overtook him, you could hear his faint cry.

“Kacchan…you're ‘n danger.”

A scream escaped a little boy's mouth, more from shock than anything else. With effort and strength he didn't know he had, Kota caught the boy's head before it slammed into the rocks, falling with his suddenly limp body. The student began convulsing against his hold. His breaths came shallow and quick, eyes rolled back. Blood was spilling from his mouth.

“Help! Someone! H-help! Stay with me, Midoriya!”

Not far away, a certain spiky haired blonde looked toward the sound.

”What the fuck is going on now!” He growled.

***

Katsuki reared, smoke escaping his nostrils. “This is absolute BULLSHIT!” he snarled, slowing his pace. He had unceremoniously ran ahead of his other classmates to chase down what he automatically declared as a villain he was going to, quote, “fucking kill.”

His hands crackled with fireworks as he looked around. Decidedly, he was going to promptly curse everyone out when he sees them again for not keeping up with him. He also decided he's gonna curse Deku out too, because… well because this was probably his fault. “Stupid Deku,” he affirmed.

In a walking speed, he continued straight through, pushing large leaves and brush out of his way. He had half a mind to blow it all up to clear a path, but he wasn't as crazy as everyone thought he was. The last thing he needed was a forest fire and a beacon to summon every villain to his location.

Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? He looked behind himself. There was no path to be seen and he didn't know which way he came from. He was lost. “FUCK!”

He was a few seconds away from rethinking his blow up the area idea when he heard something.

A scream.

He looked in the direction of the sound. “What the fuck is going on, now!”

It's better than just standing around here like a dumbass he decided, and ran toward the sound. Sounded like that brat who punched Deku. He smirked to himself at the thought. Stupid kid, should have been home at a time like this… getting himself caught up in this bullshit. I'm gonna...

Before he had time to finish his ramblings, there was another scream that had Katsuki grinding to a stop, eyes wide. The sound seemed far off but he heard it clearly. He heard Midoriya’s name. He couldn't make out the context but the voice was urgent… terrified.

Grumbling about how he was gonna wring the green haired boy's neck, he continued toward the sound with an odd feeling in his chest. His pace quickened despite his acknowledgment that he totally was not worried about what he was getting himself into. Totally.

It had been a few minutes of Katsuki running around, and his nerves were flaring more from annoyance than not. Why wasn't that stupid kid yelling anymore? How was he supposed to find him? He aggressively shoved a large shrub out of his way and snarled at the sight of another. He can't be exactly sure where the sound came from anymore. Despite his utter impatience, he continued trudging forward after kicking a tree and splitting it in half.

Then he heard it.

Another scream.

It was really close, he heard every word.

For a moment he thought Torodoki had snuck up behind him and sheared him with ice.

“No no no no- no, Midoriya! Please, breathe!”

Katsuki couldn't move. He couldn't move! MOVE!

He found his feet and stumbled forward quicker until he was practically sprinting, smashing anything that was in his way. Before his mind could catch up, he found them.

The boy gasped and fell backwards at the sight of the fuming blonde. At first he couldn't find his voice but eventually squeaked out a, “Help!”

Katsuki’s body moved without thinking. He didn't even know what the hell was going on. He found himself kneeling on the ground next to Izuku. For some reason he was pissed. From fear or whatever, he didn't know. Izuku isn't breathing! What the fuck is happening.

As if his body was moving on it's own, he quickly removed his grenade cuffs, throwing them to the side. The temperamental teen placed his hand on Izuku’s chest. It wasn't moving.

Oh god.

For a second that felt like an hour, Katsuki fucking forgot how to do CPR. Was he really gonna fucking do mouth to mouth with… Deku?

Of fucking course he is. It's Deku. His… what was he to him again? Friend? No… aacquaintance?

“Snap out of it, dumbass,” he found himself snarling out loud, causing the kid to whimper and slide away. There's no time for this. Focus! He's not breathing! Do something you idiot!

He quickly looked over Izuku, only then did he realize. Thoughtlessly, he instructed the boy to take off his shirt. When the boy looked at him confused, Katsuki practically burned into him with his glare. He started pumping Izuki's chest, biting his lip. He felt like his heart was in his throat. 1...2...3...4...

“Fuck. Deku you little shit, BREATHE!”

The more Katsuki pumped, the more frantic he became. Izuku was limp, his body jumping slightly with each push. The now panicked blonde was gritting his teeth so hard that he was developing a headache.

Not even hesitating, he lifted Izuku’s chin with his index finger, plugged his nose and breathed into his mouth twice. He had his hand on his chest to be sure that it was rising. He sat back up and began pumping again, with even more urgency.

Finally after what felt like hours, a gasp, short but sweet and Katsuki finally felt his pulse. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Holy fuck.

“Fuck, fuck. Deku, can you hear me? Deku? You idiot. Are you with me?”

A sob from the kid turned his attention.

“Brat, tear your shirt in half and tie it around his leg above the knee to stop that bleeding.” He continued, “use the other half and apply pressure to his head wound. Do you have a fucking phone on you?” he asked, urgently. He found his fingers still pressed against Izuku’ neck. The feeling of his pulse was almost… calming him enough to somewhat think rationally.

The boy shook his head vigorously.

“That fucking figures!” He yelled, a little too loudly for his current taste. He was having a hard time trying not to panic. He thickly swallowed.

He found his voice growing somewhat soft as he looked to Deku. “Deku, can you hear me? Shit please, you idiot. Come on…” The sound of his voice startled him, but he hardly paid any attention to the details.

Izuku stirred slightly, his eyes barely opening. They were unfamiliar, unfocused. Katsuki couldn't help but notice that they were without his unique sparkle.

“Hey- hey it's me. It's Katsuki. Can you hear me?” He pressed urgently, “we're gonna get you some help. Just stay with me, dumbass. We will fix you up and I'll kick your ass afterwards for this.”

He found it irritating how soft his voice was, but honestly at this point he didn't and couldn't care. He had to pick his battles right now, and being aggressive and pride-filled, was not one of them.

Not now. He was fucking scared. He didn't know what to do. He didn't train for this.

It was usually just guns and glory for him. Now reality is smacking him in the face with a whole yellow pages, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

Unconsciously he remembered back to a time when Izuku had fallen off the monkey bars on the playground and hurt his leg.

He was crying much to Katsuki's annoyance. His mom had come up to him and picked him up, mumbling sweet, soft words to him. It seemed to work, he was smiling and back to his annoying self in a few minutes.

At the time, the blonde that it was weak and pathetic.

Katsuki pondered this as he looked to the injured boy. Whatever, if it helps keep that idiot Deku alive.

He took some deep breaths and pushed away his thoughts. Izuku seemed to be looking at him now, his eyes barely open to slits. Katsuki grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Hey buddy?” The word 'buddy' tasted sour on his tongue, “You with me? Keep breathing okay. Keep your eyes focused on me.”

Izuku’s eyes seemed to gain a little of their light as if he realized that Katsuki was with him. He opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to form words. In another attempt he slipped into a bubbling coughing fit. Katsuki couldn't help but gasp as blood came spewing out of his mouth.

“Fucking shit…” he lifted Izuku’s head slightly to the side, to help him evacuate his contents. “Deku, just breathe, idiot.”

More blood began spilling from his mouth as Izuku gurgled and gasp in an effort to breathe, and before he thought twice about it, Katsuki found himself standing up and scooping the boy into his arms. He gently carried him to a place where he could sit. It happened to be up against the rock formation, near where the unconscious villain laid amongst the rubble.

Katsuki had still not noticed him. His attention was too focused on Izuku. Questions will be saved for later.

Kota following quickly behind.

“Are we taking him to get help?” He asked hoarsely, his voice tired from crying.

“He's lost too much blood,” Katsuki stated, fear in his voice. "We can't move him, it will only kill him quicker. The others aren't close, it took me a while to find you idiots." The thought of Deku dying made him shudder. He sat down gently and pulled Izuku into his arms, trying to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. The semi conscious boy whimpered.

“Shh it's okay, I've got you. I need to hold you up so you don't choke, hold on.” Katsuki shifted his weight and settled the boy. Auntie Inko would be so much better with these soothing words. Yet, he was glad she couldn't see this.

The initial shock from the discovery of Izuku was finally starting to wear off and he found himself shaking. Kota sat next to them. He had wrapped half of his shirt over Izuku’s head wound but Katsuki found that it was already soaked.

“What do we do?” Kota squeaked. “He's going to-”

“Shut up!” Katsuki snapped. “He isn't going to anything.”

Kota deflected the comment and continued. “I can go get help from a hero or- or something. Do you want me to?”

The blonde found himself trembling, unable to think of anything better. Was he really gonna put this kid in danger, for Deku?

There was no other choice.

“Fucking shit. Okay. You have to keep low, and quiet. Idiot, you listening to me? If you see any shit, go the other way. Okay? Go straight through. Don't try any stupid shit.”

Kota nodded and glanced at Izuku nervously. Suddenly a look of determination crossed his eyes. He nodded and sprinted off.

Katsuki found himself alone with Izuku, suddenly with emotions flowing through him. He pulled Izuku closed to him in an effort to keep him warm. The boy looked to his elder with weak eyes. His body was ice cold, Katsuki shivered against it.

Izuku attempts to speak again. “Kacc...chan?” he finally managed.

“It's okay, idiot, you're gonna be fine.” he replied gently. He heard Izuku’s rough, shallow breaths and swallowed.

The boy's eyes slipped shut and Katsuki’s heart skipped. “Deku, come on. Stay with me.”

He placed his head against Izuku’s chest and heard his faint heartbeat.

A lot of feelings rushed him and he found himself crying into Izuku’s limp form. Why did he suddenly care so much? What the fuck is happening.

Come on Deku. Stay with me. Don't die or I'm gonna kill you.

***

“Deku, idiot wake up.” Katsuki shook the unconscious boy slightly but he remained limp in his arms. He pulled him a little closer to try and share some of his body heat. Izuku was ice cold and shivering.

The shivering wasn't good, it meant the kid was in shock. However, it was also a sign that he was still fighting. Katsuki bit his lip.

He had found a little opening in the rock wall that he sat against. That way if someone unwelcome came around, they wouldn't immediately notice the boys and hopefully would move along.

He didn't know how long they had been sitting there, and his efforts to slow the bleeding were hardly working. His mind raced through all his possibilities. Or, lack of.

The blonde cursed aloud and knocked his head against the wall. “You idiot. How could you be so damn careless. Look at this shit, now I have to protect you again like when you were a whiney quirkless brat. Stupid Deku… Stupid-”

Katsuki stiffened when suddenly Izuku began seizing in his hold. He loosened his arms as to not hurt him and the boy jerked as if he was possessed.

He froze, not knowing what to do. His heart was shoved up into his throat as he watched blood spill from the vulnerable child. His eyes blinking rapidly, rolling. Breathing was coming out in short gasps and sometimes, to Katsuki's horror, not at all.

Then he stopped and went limp again. Katsuki scooped him up and pressed his head against Izuku's chest even tighter this time, willing his injuries to go away. His pulse was barely noticeable.

There wasn't much time left.

The blonde swallowed and finally took the time to evaluate the injuries to see if there was any way he could move him.

Both arms were shattered, that was obvious enough. Katsuki figured he'd never get to use them again. There was an open gash on his left leg right below the knee with blood still slowly oozing out. Another wound on his head, also open and bleeding worse than the other. He ran his hand gently over the boy's stomach, feeling for anything. Izuku didn't even flinch as he pressed, checking for his ribs. Several were broken. Katsuki shook his head.

Izuku can't be moved with the blood loss and risk of a punctured lung. His body was extremely fragile and broken as if someone threw a semi truck right on top of him. He was essentially crushed. Katsuki was completely dumbfounded.

He still didn't even know what the hell happened. He had so many questions, but at this rate, Izuku only had minutes. He didn't have time to stop Kota earlier and play 20 questions. Telling him to go seek help was the right thing to do.

Unlike before, Izuku wasn't moving even a little. He was as still as death, blood pooling beneath him, soaking Katsuki's clothes. His chest rattling with every shallow breath he managed to gasp, weaker by the minute. If Katsuki didn't know any better, he would have thought he was dead. If only he had gotten here a few seconds earlier. Maybe he would have been able to stop this.

Katsuki was overwhelmed with... well everything. All the times he bullied Izuku, teased him and treated him like a living punching bag. The times when he said he was worthless, that he should just die. All of those memories were clouding his vision as it became blurry with tears again. This time he didn't fight them back.

“I'm sorry, Deku. I'm sorry.” He pulled the boy in tight, burying his head into his chest. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't...I don't want you to die Dek-”

Katsuki sniffed. “I don't want you to die, Midoriya.”

He grimaced at the feeling of his cold clammy hand as he intertwined it with his own. A feeling he couldn't quite understand overwhelmed him as he looked at the pale, lifeless kid who was losing his battle. There were no words to describe it.

I don't have the right to be called a hero. Not after this. Not if I can't even save Midoriya. Not after what I put him through. I'm nothing but a cowardly bully. He was- he is my friend. And I- I-. His mind raced as he breathed shakily. There's no time for this. Focus.

He always cared for Izuku, he was just too ashamed to admit it because he was quirkless and essentially, useless. He'd just tag along with everyone else and tease him relentlessly. It was all fun and games to him. Even though they had practically grew up together. Katsuki just didn't want to be associated with a… weakling.

Now, he was regretting every moment. He wanted to take it all back. Looking at the dying boy beneath him, he felt something arise in his chest that he had always shoved to the back without thought. It was indescribable, but soft and warm. In this moment of life or death, that feeling preyed on him immensely.

He determined then that he was going to literally tear the person who hurt Izuku into pieces, slowly and painfully. He felt a sudden rage boiling in him like never before.

As if on cue, out of sight Katsuki heard a low groan and the shifting of rubble. All of his questions were about to be answered.

***

Upon hearing the sounds of rubble being displaced and a slight groan that followed, Katsuki tensed, unconsciously gripping the frail boy closer into him. Had someone found them? His breath hitched and he pressed himself against the rocks in a futile effort to blend in.

The boy beneath him whimpered weakly at the tight hold but made no movement to try and escape it. Blood pooled through Katsuki’s fingers and he winced, loosening the grip. Was he injured in more places than I initially thought?

“Shhh,” Katsuki managed as calmly as possible knowing full well that Izuku probably couldn't even hear him. His breathing shallow and silent as his ears tuned into every sound around him.

In any normal scenario, Katsuki would have raced out guns blaring with ominous threats of killing, but something broke that tension in him and he was scared. He knew that the risk to Izuku was too much and he couldn't possibly go all out. It was too dangerous to attempt while keeping him alive. “You're always such a damn burden, Deku,” he soured, barely above a whisper.

He chanced a look at the boy.

His face was as pale as a ghost, lips parted slightly as he struggled to breathe. Izuku was no longer shaking but completely limp, head rolled to one side laying against Katsuki's chest. To the blonde‘s horror, his eyes were half lidded. The glazed and blank stare gazed into his own eyes, emotionless. Katsuki didn't realized that he himself was holding his breath when their eyes locked.

He quietly sucked in some air, swallowed and decided to test his luck by reaching out and checking the boy's pulse. Yeah, he was still alive. In fact, Katsuki could've swore his pulse was a little bit stronger. He bit his lip. “That's good, idiot. You stay alive so I can kick your ass later, you hear me?“

Still emotionless, Izuku's eyes looked through Katsuki. His brow furrowed and he sharply inhaled as if he wanted to say something. Katsuki shook his head, “It's okay we'll get out of here. It's okay.”

Izuku didn't seem satisfied, as he took in another painful breath of air. Katsuki looked at him, confused for a moment.

In a raspy voice Katsuki could only describe as something he'd never want to hear again, Izuku spoke. “Run, K-kacchan.”

Before he could respond, another sound. A low growl followed by more rubble shifting. Nearby, a voice.

“That green haired twat is going to pay for that. He will die.”

Katsuki froze. Was this what happened to Izuku? This voice coming from someone, this man. He suddenly realized, and put two together.

That kid, he saved that stupid useless kid and this man, whatever he is, did this. Did this to Izuku when he was just trying to save the kid. That damn kid. Fucking shit! What is this thing if it can do THIS to Deku?!

Katsuki hissed and spat to the side. His fingers twitched and he pulled the boy into his chest again. He was cold, very cold. On pure instinct and with a lot of practice put into it over the years, Katsuki warmed his hands just enough to place on Izuku's chest and around his back. He knew it was better than nothing.

He was blindly furious at he had no idea what. Izuku, stupid Deku, acting a fool again. Showing off. Or… that- that thing for what he did. That thing, coming in this direction.

How can he fight to defend them both, he thought as he heard heavy footsteps moving around. Moving closer.

His eyes closed, Izuku laid in his lap limp, as if gone to the world. Head rolled to the side, blood now dropping from his mouth. His bleeding from the wounds slowed, but still was pooling beneath them. There wasn't minutes left.

Once again Katsuki realized there was no choice. The footsteps rounded the corner and into the little opening Katsuki had burrowed them into.

“I feel you quivering, you little shit. Come back out here and i'll make it quick.”

Yeah, he was gonna kill today.

Kota plowed through the brush and came out tumbling into the opening area where he had discovered the pro-hero, Eraser head. Aziwa looked at him, baffled. “Kid, what are you doing out here?! It's dangerous!”

Kota scrambled to his feet as Aziwa reached to grab him in only what he'd assumed was to take him to shelter.

“Wait wait, please!” Kota cried, tears streaming down his face. “Sir, please. Midoriya!”

Aziwa froze, breath caught. “Midoriya? Where is he?”

“Please, please help him. He- he saved me. But-” Kota sobbed and Aziwa shook him by the shoulders, demanding answers. “He's hurt real bad. He's d-dying, please help him. He's- he's dying. There's a- a villain, still- he's still there. And another- student. Sent- help. Please help.”

Before Kota could finish his last word, Aziwa scooped him up and plopped him on his back as his knees gave way and he collapsed. He gasped in surprise, wrapping his arms around the teachers neck so he wouldn't fall.

“Lead me there, now,” He commanded darkly, while dialing a number on his phone.

***

He clutched the boy to his chest. Surprisingly, instead of launching himself forward, Katsuki was crawling back trying to look as small as possible. Beneath him, Izuku was dead weight but still breathing. He shuffled his body to brace for any sudden attack. He would take the full force of it, but he'd survive.

Swallowing, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Katsuki oh so very gently placed Izuku against the rock wall, sitting up his limp body to prevent him from choking on his blood. He coughed weakly, causing Katsuki's heart to sink within a level of pain he never knew possible. A crash, and his head spun in panic and pure, unrecognisable rage. He began to sweat, and with that came clearly audible popping that Katsuki immediately resented.

It's not such a great quirk after all, he scowled to himself. I'm useless! I'm not… this isn't… this isn't helping! FUCK!

His breathing quickened to a panicked pace. I need to get this away from Izuku. Now!

A growling yell from behind him, and he spun around. He thickly swallowed, his heart pounding in his throat. MOVE! MOVE YOU WORTHLESS IDIOT!

All I have to do is keep him distracted, he thought. Just another few minutes , he pleaded to himself. Hold on just a few more minutes, please Izuku!

Suddenly, the Villain Muscular spotted Katsuki. Without any thinking involved, his feet were moving. He vocally felt a deadly threat escape his throat as he ran headlong, not recognizing his own voice.

“I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, BASTARD!”

Catching the other by surprise, Katsuki launched himself into the air with a blast, spinning himself around in less than a second to land a solid punch square into the scarred eye of Muscular.

WHAM!

Breathing out a scream of rage, Katsuki continued to throw a barrage of punches towards the villain's face. One after another, and another, and…

Suddenly realizing that none of the fucking punches were making contact, Katsuki jumped back, landing on his feet and sliding back in an attempt to create as much distance as possible. His breathing ragged, he looked up to see that the villain before him had been holding an arm in front of his face. It took most of the blows, but he was shaking. Obviously still drained from his fight with Izuku.

Katsuki spat to his side and popping sounds escaped from both of his hands as he clenched his fists.

Muscular laughed, and tskted. He lowered his arm.

“So you're gonna be the hero now, huh?”

Katsuki snarled. Just a few more minutes, he repeated in his head. Hold just a few… Please hurry Kota, you fucking useless nerd!

Muscular started walking toward him, catching Katsuki by surprise. He labored another breath he was holding.

At least he's coming in my direction.

He braced himself, glancing over toward where Izuku lay, slumped over. He couldn't even tell if he was breathing anymore.

Fighting back any urge to race over to Izuku, Katsuki retorted back, keeping the other busy and focused on him. “You useless scum. I'll kill you. I'll kill you for what you did to my… my friend.”

Without warning Muscular launched at Katsuki, the boy barely being able to dodge when he was suddenly grabbed by the leg mid jump and slammed into the ground. He screamed, pain soaring through him like a white hot light. His body couldn't move. He breathed but out only came coughing and more pain. He squirmed, blasting haphazardly toward the beast while lacing a barrage of unrepeatable swears that put even him to shame.

A blast made contact with a rock fixture atop of them and in Muscular’s momentarily lapsed focus, Katsuki swung from beneath him and grabbed his face, centering a blast right on it at full force. The recoil sent Katsuki flying backwards into the rocks, he slides down as his legs give way to the pain. He breathed, ragged. As the dust from the blast began to clear, Katsuki favored what he saw.

Muscular’s face nearly blown to bits, his body crushed by falling rock debris. However he was still breathing and began to rise.

“You little shit.” Thrusting rocks off of himself with a brush of his hands, he stood wiping blood from his non existent mouth. Teeth smiled at Katsuki, causing him to wince.

“You'll pay for that.”

Katsuki stood, swaying. A curse shot from his lips when he saw it. He stopped short, freezing. He could swear his heart stopped for a few beats.

“So... Is this what's so important to you, hm?”

"NO- NO!" Katsuki screamed. HOW?!

In his grasp, he held a limp Izuku.

A blind rage had tears prick at his eyes.

“H-how…” he stammered.

“I wasn't done with him yet. Did you think I forgot? He seems very important to you. While you were distracted I collected him. Didn't want him to miss the party.”

Muscular smirked with his newly forming face and Katsuki swallowed bile threatening his throat. “What's your name, boy?”

“None of your fucking business,” Katsuki spat.

A slight squeeze to the ribs and cracking sound from the boy followed by no cries of pain had Katsuki sinking to his knees. “How about now? Feel like telling me now boy?” Bakugo slammed his fists on the ground. He couldn’t bear to watch, but at the same time, he knew he shouldn’t give his name away.

“Stop! I'LL KILL YOU!” The monster in front of him grinned and grabbed Midoriya by his head; this time, letting him dangle limply.

“K-ka...cchan...” Bakugo’s head snapped up to look at where the sound had come from. With wide eyes, crimson stared into green. It felt like he was numb all over.

No... Please... Let him go. Stop... Don’t.... hurt... him.

“Still alive are we? Wow... You’re a tough one to kill that’s for sure.”

Bakugo couldn’t move. He knew his leg was broken, and his arm... he probably had a severe concussion and maybe a broken rib here or two. But it wasn’t his injuries that were stopping him.

No. It was the next word. The next word that was uttered. To everybody else it was just a whisper... Yet Katsuki felt like it was being screamed.

“Run.”

Once it left his lips, a sick cracking sounded and it felt like time had completely stopped.

No.

NO.

Mi-Midoriya?

But he didn't move.

It's too late.

“Shame. I thought he was in for another fight. Oh well.” the beast spoke to himself, before letting a mechanical chuckle.

Years of that boy's smile etched into Katsuki’s brain like boiling water. That stupid laugh, his insane kindness and wanting to help others no matter what.

The world was exploding around him, and suddenly he was very small and afraid. Afraid of fire, afraid of the sound he made when he breathed. All thoughts remained to Izuku as the rest of his mind escaped his surroundings. He clenched his hands tightly. His chest felt constricted.

Sobs wracked his body as the man stepped closer. He wanted to die. Just kill me! He screamed to himself. I am no hero! This is my fault!

He shut his eyes tightly as he waited for the final blow.

It never came.

And then Muscular made his fatal mistake.

A thud, and Midoriya landed in front of him. In front of a sobbing Katsuki. The blonde couldn't help but reach out. Couldn't help his shaking hands as he checked for the innocent, loving child's pulse.

Nothing. Midoriya Izuku, the messy green-haired, smiling… lovable Deku, was dead .

And Katsuki had nothing holding him back now.

The world went a deep red.

***

Scarlet red eyes, brimming with tears and fire finally left the still form of Izuku. Katsuki didn't remember scooping him up in his arms and cradling him for a few moments before laying his limp body down so gently on the ground. Popping blasts began escaping his finger tips as he yanked his hands back quickly to not hurt the green haired boy.

But he's dead.

His eyes, unrecognizable from rage, met the face of Muscular who had regrown the muscles of his face and was now smirking down at the shaking form. The large figure grabbed Katsuki's neck and squeezed, choking the life out of him. He struggled, sounds of cracking inside his neck. The creature threw him down, quaking the earth beneath him. Again he reached out, a tight hold around his waist as he lifted him and squeezed. He was taking advantage of Katsuki's weak and distracted state. More cracking, screams echoed back into his ears. But this didn't last long.

Popping and flashing began spreading like wildfire around Katsuki's entire body as his sweat ignited a trail of miniature explosions so fierce that his hair began to singe at the roots. A light sparked in his eyes, and Muscular dropped him in surprise.

“You. Will. DIE!” He screamed as he lunged at the taller figure ignoring the crippling pain of his crushed body, his blasts acting as projectiles causing speeds he never thought possible. He overestimated it and launched too far but reached out his hand in time to hook his fingers around Muscular’s face, using momentum to swing his body around and latch onto his back.

He threw as many explosions as he could. Or at least, as many as his body could allow. Occasionally, he’d use his own strength to hit back with a punch.

He wanted to kill him.

He wanted him to disintegrate.

Yet a part of him couldn’t do it.

After a couple more blows, he felt muscular finally go limp.

He wasn’t dead... But he was unconscious. Bakugo had noticed that he wasn’t fighting at his full strength. Midoriya must have really knocked him clean the first time. His breath was erratic, heart pounding all throughout his body. Mind unfocused, he didn't exactly understand what was going on and what happened. He sat there for a minute staring at the villain, trying to catch his breath. Gasping, he clutched at his throat while tears stung his burning skin still raw from the explosions. His entire body was burning but he could only just feel a slight heat being that he was in shock. Steam rose from his form and black dots swam in his vision as he struggled to maintain his consciousness.

Gripping himself tightly around his waist, he sobbed, shaking and cursing out hoarse whispers.

The sobs rang out like pained cries of a mother losing her child. They ripped through the forest and claimed the ears of Aziawa, Kota, and another figure nearby.

Struggling to maintain his consciousness and continue to breathe at the same time, Katsuki found he could not stand so he clawed at the ground using one hand to drag himself next to the still form of Midoriya.

“I'm- I'm sorry Izuku I'm- s-sorry so sorry” He found himself repeating the words but not hearing himself, nothing but ringing in his ears from his blasts. “I'm sorry I w- was such shit to you. A bad f-friend who couldn't- couldn't protect you.” He found his arms unconsciously wrapping around the limp form, pulling him into his own body. The boy was cold, and Katsuki instinctively pulled him in tight. His head lolled into the blonde’s arm. Trembling, he lightly took his hand and gently ran it through Izuku's hair repeatedly.

He sobbed, dry heaving. Finding it incredibly hard to breathe, his body wanting to give up. Blackness pooled the edges of his vision as he clung onto the only thing that mattered.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Suddenly he felt tugging. Unable to find his voice, he curled into himself, clinging Izuku to him. Voices surrounded him. More villains? He didn't care. He wanted to die.

Everything was blurry and jumbled. Voices spoke to him but he hardly understood them.

“Let g-... Midoriya. Bak-..”

He continued to cry, “It's-.. kay. It's okay. Ba-”

Arms trying to pull Izuku away from him, he managed a scream that sounded nothing like his. “No! NO!” He desperately reached out but hands pulled him back, an arm wrapping around his waist.

“Shhh… it's okay. It's okay.” Came a voice. Aziawa? What?

He suddenly felt a whoosh of air as his strength began to fail him. His body felt on fire and his breathing was hurting too much to bear. He slumped feeling arms embrace him.

Just let me die.

A gentle form scooped up Katsuki in his arms and he was too weak to struggle. His vision blacking out, he heard his Sensei's voice as everything faded.

“Bakugo - stay with me- stay… me. Hold on. Keep- eyes open. Stay -....”

My fault.

***

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Holy. FUCKING. Shit!

The words kept repeating themselves in his mind as he raced in the direction the boy had told him to. It wasn't hard to figure it out anyway, because he heard the blood curdling screams not far away. He would visibly wince at each one and seemingly would quicken his pace each time. The screams were completely unrecognizable, and were nothing he had ever heard in all his years of being a teacher. Aizawa didn't notice that he was biting his lip until he tasted iron.

The boy on his back trembled before speaking, the first time in several tense minutes. “C- cut through there- the path… it's quicker. But watch for the tree...” he pointed slightly east. A tree had fallen in the path recently but Aizawa simply maneuvered around it with his capture weapon. Kota jostled in his grip and yelped, tightening his hold.

Another scream.

Aizawa leveled himself and his breathing as he continued running. His mind was going haywire, he needed to know the situation before getting there. He couldn't spare the kid his emotions.

“Listen, kid.” He spoke between breaths evenly, “I only have one thing to go by here, you told me that one of my students is dying. ” The word felt toxic. “What the fuck-” he winced. Oops. “- happened?”

A barrage of questions were assaulting him, but he needed to focus on the important ones. One at a time Aizawa, one at a time.

Kota didn't seem to mind the slip up- or didn't notice. He took a deep breath.

“I was up there, by myself just hanging out I guess. I- a monster, er, villain came and tried to attack but M-Midoriya he-”

He saved you. Typical, Aizawa thought as Kota confirmed it.

“-but he got really badly hurt and… I mean he beat the guy up and s-stuff but he almost didn't. A-and well he got really hurt too but I helped kinda…”

Aizawa lifted his eyebrow but said nothing.

“Then, then he started saying something about a Kacchan being in danger-”

Bakugo.

Well, shit.

“- he suddenly collapsed and started seizing and- and there was so much blood and-” Kota let out a strangled sob. Aizawa subconsciously quickened his pace yet again. His legs burned. He ignored it.

But that didn't explain the screaming.

“Kid, breathe, okay. I need you to focus. I need to know everything, it's extremely important.” Aizawa pulled his phone out of his pocket and skimmed through his text messages while avoiding a bush of thorns and stopping for just mere seconds to read a reply. Good, they're coming.

“Well - um well he stopped breathing and his heart I think-”

Aizawa's breath hitched and he swallowed thickly. Shoving his phone back into his pocket he tore off again in the direction instructed.

“Then?” he spoke, a little too impatiently.

“Then another boy. Um, I don't know his name he never really talked to me,” he pondered for a moment. “He came and helped Midoriya breathe again. He- he said he lost a lot of blood- he can't be moved a lot. So- so I asked and he sent me to get h-help…” Kota finished at a whisper laced with fear. He closed his eyes and laid against Aizawa's neck, sobbing.

“P-please save him.”

Another scream, then a sound that almost made Aizawa lose his footing. He stumbled and stopped for a second, dread evident in his features.

It was close.

There was a tremendously loud bang, sounding too close to an explosion he was all too familiar with. His blood ran ice cold.

He stood there, afraid of the answer that he was going to get. “Kid, what did that other boy look like?”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Well, he's- his hair is blonde.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“-and he looked really angry.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Silence.

Aizawa felt frozen to the spot. His heart was thudding frantically, so much so that he could feel it in his damn teeth. He didn't know why that of all things was irritating him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He slipped Kota off his back, recieving no protests. “Can you walk?”

Kota nodded.

Good, stay here unless I call for you. If you don't hear from me in 5 minutes, tuck your tail and run.” He hesitated, and before running off he asked, “What happened to the villain that Midoriya confronted?”

Kota’s face gave the answer before his mouth did. “Well- um he didn't kill him I- I think just knocked him out or something…”

That did it. Aizawa turned and dashed off at speeds Iida would be impressed with. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

Todoroki blasted behind and in front of him, creating an ice slide capable of helping him move faster than his running speed.

He was so close.

He heard the screams, the explosions. He wasn't far away, he figured why the hell not.

As he got closer however, the screams sounded frantic. The explosions sounded like death. At first, he thought a villain had got caught by Bakugo and was simply pissing him off.

You know, whatever. Typical Bakugo.

But then he heard the pleas.

They were a ways off, but he still heard them, carried by the smoke-filled wind.

“NO! STOP, PLEASE!”

Bakugo, he was sure this time.

Wait, what?!

Bakugo… pleading?!

What the fuck. What the fuck.

Then a series of screaming, explosions.

Finally, silence. Todoroki was close enough to be able to find the source and he quickly did, only to be frozen in his tracks by the sight. He nearly puked right there.

He thought he was in a nightmare for a solid few seconds, pinching himself to make sure he wasn't in the illusion of an unknown quirk. His mouth hanging open, he gaped at the scene.

A gigantic- body? strewn across the middle of the cliffside, Two smaller bodies next to it, one not moving, the other-

Ohno.

Fuck No.

As if the ice suddenly melted in his body, he found himself moving before he knew what was happening. In the corner of his eye, there was a dark figure rushing forward as well. Preparing a fireball in his hand, he readied to launch it but stopped short when he realized who it was. Aizawa.

Both student and teacher reached the boys at the same time.

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years

Text

The Sand In Your Shoe (pt 18)

The rest of the week goes by in a blur of sex and sand. Ian has almost forgotten about his return flight to Chicago but on his final afternoon, the pending separation looms over him like a harvest moon, casting long shadows.

He reaches for Mickey’s hand a little more frequently and stands a little closer. He tries to commit every detail of his lovers face to memory, tries to absorb his laughter into himself so that he might carry it with him and generally becomes as clingy as a new puppy.

“What are you gonna do when I have to take a piss?”

Mickey asks tersely as Ian bumps into him for the fourth time since Mickey started trying to change the bottles. Mickey gives him a sort of half-hearted frown, reaching for a cloth to wipe the spilled vodka. Ian understands him being a bit annoyed because he is loitering too close and following Mickey’s movements like a puppet on a really, really short string.

“Sorry.”

Ian takes a hesitant step back, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his board shorts to prevent them straying toward Mickey.

“I’m just giving you shit, man. What’s up?”

Mickey smiles slightly, his own fingers tucking into the waistband of Ian’s shorts and tugging him forward playfully.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know.”

Mickey nods as Ian sucks in his lower lip and casts his eyes downward miserably.

“Well … I wish I wasn’t.”

Mickey makes a sympathetic tutting sound and reaches up to cup the back of Ian’s head lightly in his palm, running his thumb over the neatly clipped hair.

“Good, means you’ll come back quicker.”

Ian’s lip quirks upwards and then widens to a proper grin as Mickey slips his free hand into his shorts and takes a firm grip on his dick, kneading the soft flesh.

“Jesus, you really are miserable. Can’t have that, can we?”

Mickey winks and pats Ian’s cheek affectionately, before dropping to his knees and taking Ian’s shorts with him.

“Right here?”

Ian sounds positively scandalised and stares helplessly at the open door and the family on the beach a few yards away.

“We’ve done worse here; Mandy reckons the kegs smelled of ass.”

Mickey’s smile is downright filthy and Ian can’t help but laugh.

“At least let me close the door, there’s kids out there!”

“They can’t see anything and you oughta be looking at me, not them.”

Ian makes the mistake of shifting his gaze to the top of Mickey’s head, the beautiful straight edge of his nose and the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheeks and his body betrays his outrage without second thought.

“Atta boy! There we go…”

Mickey takes Ian into his mouth, and what little resolve Ian has falters and then gets lost in the deep blue of Mickey’s eyes.

Mickey reaches behind Ian and grips his ass hard, making the redhead shiver happily and tighten his own grip in Mickey’s hair.

“Ah … excuse me …?”

Ian’s eyes snap open and fix on the woman now blocking the doorway. She is maybe forty with the sort of cheerful disposition of someone who enjoys Labrador calendars and knitting circles.

“Hi! How can I help you?”

Ian’s voice is far too loud and he is frantically trying to move his hips but Mickey doesn’t stop and Ian wonders briefly if his boyfriend has gone deaf and doesn’t know that there is a woman talking to Ian. He glances away from her and down at Mickey.

If Ian had not seen it for himself, he would never have believed that a single arched eyebrow has the ability to convey such unreservedly gleeful mischief! The fingers on his ass tighten a fraction and Ian gasps before turning his attention back to the woman.

“Sorry … how can I help?”

“Do you serve ice cream?”

Ian’s thighs are quivering with the effort of holding still. Mickey’s mouth is hot and wet and absolutely fucking perfect and every now and then he sweeps his tongue in a way that makes Ian’s eyes lose focus.

“N… no… sorry!”

Ian stammers, he is going to kill Mickey! No, he is going to fuck Mickey. Oh God! He’s going to fuck him every which way and leave his boyfriend a panting, gasping wreck …

“How about soda cans?”

“What?”

“Soda, honey? Are you OK? You’re shaking and you look a little clammy.”

“I’m …”

Ian tries to answer just as Mickey takes him to the back of his throat and makes a very low humming noise, applying the very gentlest pressure with his teeth.

“OH GOD!”

Ian slaps his hand down on the bar, laughing and almost crying. It is the most exquisite torture he has ever known and he can feel Mickey smiling around the length of him. The hands are now massaging his ass, smoothing over the patches that will surely blossom into tiny perfect bruises.

“Honey, what is it?”

The lady takes a few steps into the bar and Ian shakes his head desperately.

“Closed! Sorry, we’re closed!”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine just … bye!”

Ian chokes, he is gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are standing out starkly and he is so close … so close.

“Bye then!”

The lady looks a little concerned about leaving the sweating, shaking young man on his own but without the lure of ice cream or soda, she mercifully seems ready to take her cheerfulness elsewhere.

Ian glances down and sees a look in Mickey’s eyes that cannot be mistaken for anything but love. It is pure, whole, and so faultless that Ian drops his fingers to gently stroke the thick lengths of his hair despite still having a half captive audience.

Mickey pauses his movement giving Ian a couple of seconds respite and Ian manages to smile convincingly at their would-be customer, who finally leaves. The moment she is out of sight Ian crashes his hips forwards demanding and urgent and Mickey doesn’t hesitate. Ian throws his head back and surrenders himself completely as Mickey finally takes him over the edge.

“I fucking love you!”

Ian is so exhausted that the words tumble out of him on the crest of a sigh. Mickey wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stands up, settling Ian’s clothing back into place. He is smiling the exact same smile Ian remembers from Mickey’s days robbing Kash, a delinquent, reckless smile that is utterly beautiful in its menace.

“You’re a dick.”

Ian grins and gently rests his forehead against Mickeys.

“Yeah, kinda. But you need to relax. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

Mickey’s hand is resting against Ian’s face again and Ian realises that he is doing exactly the same thing as Ian himself has been, committing the details to memory and savouring the nearness of him in preparation to be separated.

“I will come back, Mick.”

“I know.”

Mickey nods but doesn’t move his hand.

“Listen, ah, it’s your last night and all, so I was wondering if maybe you wanna go and get something to eat with me later? It’s not Sizzlers but there is a steakhouse in town … the food is pretty good.”

Ian’s eyes light up and he cocks his head to the side, giving Mickey a patient smirk

“You trying to ask me out on a date?”

Mickey smiles shyly and rubs a finger against the side of his nose.

“Yeah. You wanna go on a date with me?”

Ian nods and kisses his lips softly, almost chastely. He knows it is most likely the first time Mickey has ever asked anyone on a date and he wants his response to be perfect.

“I would really love to go on a date with you, Mickey.”

Ian says carefully, looking deeply into Mickey’s eyes as he enunciates each word, his fingers working at the buttons of Mickey’s jeans.

“Hey, come on, I gotta get these bottles done…”

“Five more minutes won’t hurt …”

Ian murmurs, gently tugging the well-worn denim over Mickey’s hips.

“I thought you nice, Irish boys didn’t put out on the first…”

Mickey starts to quip as Ian slides down his body but the words dry in his throat as Ian licks his middle and index finger, never breaking eye contact.

“Shut the fuck up, Milkovich.”

Ian smiles. Mickey was already mostly hard but Ian giving him that cocky smile and speaking a just a little roughly … Holy fuck!

“Spread your legs.”

Ian orders and slides his slick fingers along Mickey’s perineum, before gently probing at his entrance at the same time as he takes him into his mouth. Five minutes was an over-estimate. Ian twists his wrist, angling his fingers upward and exerting a little more pressure and Mickey convulses with a strangled cry, hands interlaced behind his head and panting with breathless laughter, startled by the force of his own orgasm.

“Damn, Gallagher!”

“You can do your bottles now.”

Ian grins nonchalantly, sidling past Mickey and giving him a firm smack on the ass as he crosses to the jukebox. By the time Mickey has re-buttoned his jeans ‘Love Is A Battlefield’ is starting up and Ian has his sunglasses on and is headed toward the door.

“Hey! Where you goin?”

“To work on my tan. I got a hot date tonight.”

Ian grins and heads out the door, singing loudly as he strolls down to the beach leaving Mickey beaming after him until he catches himself and quickly returns to his work.

Ian takes his time getting ready. He borrows a smart button down from Mickey and carefully styles his hair in the small bathroom mirror before giving the tomato plants their evening feed from a bottle of plant food that Mickey still maintains was there when he arrived.

Mickey is sitting outside on the porch when Ian finally comes down, but he practically leaps up when he hears the door opening. The sounds of the bar in full flow briefly join them and then fade out as Ian nudges the door closed again.

“You look great.”

Mickey says instantly but Ian barely hears him he is so focused on the shirt that Mickey is wearing. It is a little worn and faded across the shoulders from constant wear but there is no mistaking it. It is the Hawaiian shirt that Mickey rescued from the luggage all those years ago.

“I can’t believe you still have that shirt.”

Ian smiles, the corners of his mouth trembling slightly.

“Oh … yeah I can go change?”

Mickey looks down self-consciously, his smile faltering a little

“Don’t you fucking dare. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

Ian blinks away the film of moisture from his eyes and kisses Mickey deeply, his mouth tastes of mint toothpaste but his skin is a little salty from his evening swim and it is a taste that Ian is coming to think of as home.

They break apart to let a couple of party goers squeeze past into Galagers.

“Ready?”

Ian asks, holding out his hand and Mickey licks his lip before nodding and placing his hand in Ian’s palm and linking their fingers.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The restaurant is simple and the music is low. It is gently lit and intimate but informal in a very casual way. It is absolutely perfect. They get a couple of looks when they enter, whether it is two men holding hands or Mickey’s loud shirt, Ian isn’t sure but he doesn’t care.

They get seated toward the back of the restaurant which is ideal as it allows Mickey to relax completely, away from other diners. They are given a two seated square table and Mickey moves his chair to sit next to Ian rather than opposite him without comment.

“Have you come here much?”

“No, just a couple of times.”

Mickey is doing his usual glance around, an anxious habit nearly as old as he is and Ian waits patiently for him to be content that they are both entirely safe before picking up the drinks menu.

“Should we order a bottle of wine?”

“Don’t they have beer anymore?”

Mickey squints over Ian’s arm as his boyfriend laughs and kisses his head.

“Yeah but this is a date, it’s about the communal experience of dining together.”

Mickey gives him a puzzled frown and then shrugs.

“Alright. I like red.”

“Reds good. Which one?”

“Ah …”

Mickey peers at the menu before flicking his gaze up to Ian who is looking like a puppy with a new chew toy

“What?”

“Just you and me, choosing a bottle of wine in a candlelit restaurant …”

Ian waggles his head dreamily and Mickey rolls his eyes

“Keep it up, I’ll order beer and fries.”

Mickey says sternly but reaches a hand under the table and rubs Ian’s leg affectionately

They manage to order, though the waiter has a little difficulty understanding Mickey’s request for a bottle of ‘Ree-o-ja’ and Ian doesn’t have a clue how to pronounce it differently but guesses that they are way off, so just points at the menu.

“I don’t think that guy knows shit about wine.”

Mickey whispers and Ian feels his heart squeeze so desperately with love it almost makes him dizzy.

The steak is good but Mickey’s conversation is better. He seldom talks and eats at the same time and normally glares at anyone who tries to do so, but he makes a special effort and Ian makes an equally special effort not to take advantage and babble a million miles an hour.

When the bill comes they bicker over who is going to pay and settle on a game of thumb-war to decide which Mickey realises was a mistake when Ian’s huge thumb traps his almost effortlessly and Ian slaps his cash on the table triumphantly.

“You’re makin’ me feel cheap. I wanted to buy you dinner.”

Mickey grumbles but Ian just kisses his cheek and happily pays the waiter.

“Next time.”

It is a small promise but a wonderful one and Mickey cheers up instantly. The wine is heavier than their usual beer and Ian is pretty drunk by the time they leave and even Mickey is giggling and swaying a little.

“No fuckin’ fear man. No fear.”

He thumps his chest and then points at Ian

“I love you and I want the whole fuckin’ world to know it.”

“Yell it! Yell ‘Mickey Milkovich loves Ian Gallagher.”

Ian grins, wrapping an arm around Mickey’s shoulders and pointing toward the horizon as if the words are emblazoned there already.

“No! Jesus! You want my ass hauled back to jail?”

Mickey asks and for some reason they both find that utterly hilarious. Ian takes a couple of steps back and then hops up onto Mickey’s back

“TO THE OCEAN!!!!”

He yells and points his arm ahead like a lance. Mickey dutifully sets off at a staggering trot. Ian jumps down after a few metres and they take off running together. They round the corner of the last street before the beach and lean against the railings catching their breath.

Night is mostly drawn in but there is still a red glow over the horizon. It makes Mickey’s eyes look violet as he stares outwards, and Ian is overcome with a sudden irresistible desire.

“Mick …”

Mickey turns to face him and understands instantly, his need rising up to rival Ian’s own. He grabs Ian’s hand and together they run down to the water, shedding clothes as they go. The waves are cool but not yet cold and as Mickey wraps his legs around Ian’s hips, letting the current bear his weight, he feels the delicious hardness of Ian’s muscles warm against his own chest.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

Ian mumbles into the salty tangle of Mickey’s hair. It is a practicality that Mickey had over looked and he shrugs, grinning fiendishly

“Fuck it, you’re away for a little while after this – won’t need it working anyway.”

It is a slightly difficult start but Mickey is more than ready and after a few tentative strokes of Ian’s fingers they manage to find their rhythm. Ian buries his face in Mickey’s neck, his hand wrapped tightly around Mickey’s cock and closes himself off to everything except the sound of Mickey’s breathing and the waves lapping around their shoulders. Mickey has his teeth set lightly in the flesh of Ian’s shoulder as he begins to melt around him and Ian is suddenly aware of Mickey’s pulse beating hard and strong beneath his cheek. It is all that matters, it is everything.

That night they curl up together in bed, a thousand promises and words of reassurance lingering in the air between them, unspoken but understood all the same. This is their home. They are the sand in each other’s shoes. They are in this for life. It is as simple and as perfect as that.

#shameless #ian gallagher #Milkovich #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #mickey in mexico #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #Gallavich #Gallavich Love

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