#so like it just hurts very badly. and any time a medical professional touches my shoulders or back theyre like Uh Dude. What The Hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

openheartthot · 4 years

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Holding On

Part 1: The Inevitable | Part 2: Selfish | Part 3: Letting Go

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Camille Prescott)

Word Count: 2,551

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Ethan can’t live without her.

***

Ahh guys it’s been so long omg. I know I’ve missed reading a lot of fics but I swear once finals are over I’m gonna go back and harass everyone with my reblogs lmao. This is sort of all over the place, but I figured I’ve been wallowing in my writer’s block long enough!

Ethan watches her all night.

She’s radiant in a wine-colored dress, her perfectly coiffed golden hair a far cry from the messy ponytails and buns that she used to sport around Edenbrook.

It’s hard to believe that this is the same woman who’d once started every morning tangled in his bedsheets, who’d held his hand across the table in Derry Roasters.

The same woman who once tried to tell him she loved him in an airport, before he stopped her.

Pain battles with pride in the pit of his stomach as he watches her flit around the hotel ballroom. She’s completely in her element as she rubs elbows with the elite of West Coast medicine. No longer is she the bright-eyed young intern by his side.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, Ethan always knew she’d be great.

And yet...he can’t help but worry that he might be too late.

Her dress is just a bit risqué for a medical conference, but none of the other doctors or representatives seem to mind. They are completely enraptured by her wide smiles and sharp wit. Especially the young, sandy-haired doctor all but glued to her side. Ethan doesn’t miss the way his hand alights on her waist every now and then, nor the wonderstruck way he gazes at her.

Jealousy roils in Ethan’s stomach, completely unwarranted. He has no claim on her, not anymore.

Ethan turns bitterly back to his scotch, determined to drown his sorrows in the amber liquid before him. One more drink at the bar, and then he’ll leave to continue his pity party upstairs in the privacy of his hotel room. There’s no point in torturing himself with the sight of her with another man.

He knocks back his drink, and another one appears in front of him almost instantly, though he hasn’t ordered one.

For a moment, he’s confused.

But only for a moment.

He catches a whiff of her perfume before any of his other senses realize she’s behind him. He breathes in deeply, savoring the gentle floral scent that lingered on his pillow long after she left for the last time.

“Hell of a speech,” Ethan says into the drink she bought him. He can’t look at her-- he’s scared of what he might say if he gets a glimpse of those green eyes.

He’s broken a lot of his own rules when it comes to Camille, but he won’t make a move on a woman in a relationship. No matter how badly he wants to punch her companion in the jaw.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here. You hate conventions.”

Ethan grits his teeth against the onslaught of emotions triggered by that voice. That soft, silvery voice that he used to have the pleasure of hearing every day.

God, how he took her for granted back then.

“To your first keynote? I wouldn’t miss it.” Ethan says, fighting to keep his voice even.

It’s true. Ethan avoids conventions like the plague, but when he heard Camille was to be the keynote speaker of a conference held in her new home city of San Francisco, he’d booked a flight without a second thought.

He’s been telling himself it is just to celebrate her success as a former mentor, but he can no longer pretend that he doesn’t have ulterior motives. That he didn’t want to know if she’d come alone, or on the arm of some well-built pretty boy--

“The blonde Clark Kent? Who’s he?” Ethan asks, not entirely on purpose. The scotch has loosened his tongue more than he realized.

“Adam is... just a colleague.” Camille says, and then Ethan catches a glimpse of red silk and blonde hair in his periphery as she sinks onto the barstool beside him.

He can’t ignore the flicker of hope ignited by her words, but then reality comes crashing back in. They live on opposite sides of the country. He told her to leave.

“I was your colleague too, once.” Ethan says, immediately wishing the words didn’t sound so resentful.

“Once.” Camille muses in agreement, and Ethan can’t help but wonder if the bittersweet reel of their relationship plays on a perpetual loop in her mind the way it does in his.

“So, you aren’t seeing anyone?” Ethan can’t help but ask, unable to shake the growing tingle of hope.

“No.” Camille says softly, “I don’t know if I’m ready for anything serious.” She stares down at the bar, unaware of the physical ache that the words cause in Ethan’s chest. The cautious tone of her voice hurts more than he cares to admit.

His Camille, the one who boldly strode past all of the boundaries that he had so painstakingly created, would never be so hesitant when it came to love.

She’s supposed to be foolish, and headstrong, and impulsive...and it’s Ethan’s fault that she isn’t any of those things anymore.

Ethan takes another swallow of scotch, for courage, before he turns to face her.

He had watched her during her speech, of course, and from afar as she made her rounds through the room, but seeing her up-close is almost more than he can handle.

Ethan meets her eyes, and for a minute, he swears he forgets how to breathe. The rest of the room fades away, and it feels like all that exists is him and her. All he can see through his tunneling vision are those green eyes.

Those eyes bring him back to Miami, to that first passion-fueled kiss on a balcony under the light of a thousand stars, both of their inhibitions clouded with wine.

Those eyes bring him back to long nights spent in the diagnostics office, toiling over a case; to her fingers laced in his under the table; to a million little moments shared between the two of them over the course of their relationship, both professional and romantic.

“Dance with me.” Ethan says. He can’t think of a single other thing besides encircling Camille in his arms and holding her close, even if it’s only for the duration of a song.

“...Okay.” Camille agrees after a moment, although Ethan isn’t sure whether it’s out of pity, or because, like his, her hands are burning with the need to touch him.

She follows him to the dance floor, and when she steps into his arms, Ethan can’t stop his eyes from watering. He is convinced there is nothing more right than Camille against his chest, the way her arms slide around his neck, the way that his hands know the curve of her waist.

“I want you.” Ethan murmurs. He can’t help it, with her in his arms, it’s almost like no time has passed at all.

Camille stiffens, her arms tensing where they rest against his shoulders. Her gaze flicks to the elevators, and she swallows hard before looking away.

“You know I’m not interested in being a casual hookup anymore.”

Ethan’s chest tightens, knowing that he was the one that made her feel cheap, disposable. Even so, his own hurt swells.

“There was nothing casual about the nights we spent together, not for me.” Ethan says curtly, stung by her implication.

“For me either.” Camille says in exasperation. “But…”

“I want to be with you.” Ethan says, the words welcome on his tongue after spending so long pretending that he didn’t miss her. Pretending that it didn’t bother him knowing that Camille was building a new life on the other side of the country. A life without him.

“Stop it.” Camille falters, missing a step and almost losing her balance. Ethan pulls her securely against his chest, but she avoids his gaze. “Missing me isn’t the same thing as wanting to be with me.”

“I know,” Ethan insists, refusing to back down.

“Since you left Boston, I’ve been a shell of a man, living only for your visits. And when those stopped…” He takes a deep breath. “I can’t live without you, Camille, I need you.”

“That’s not healthy.” Camille snaps, her expression knitting into a scowl. “And you were the one who told me to move in the first place!”

“I was, and I stand by that. It was the right decision for your career.” Ethan counters reflexively before his voice drops, husky with emotion. “Whether it’s healthy or not, I don’t want to be without you. Not for another second.”

He dips his head, just enough to let his jaw brush against her temple.

Camille lets out a tiny sniff, and when he pulls back to meet her eyes, he finds them shimmering with tears.

“Ethan…” Her lips part on his name, her eyes filled with a yearning so deep that Ethan instinctively tightens his hold on her, his fingers tracing the notches of her spine.

Slowly, tentatively, she relaxes into him, her head resting on his chest just above his beating heart. Ethan freezes, terrified that the slightest movement will scare her away.

“I want that, too.”

He doesn’t waste another second. He tilts her chin up, and then her hands are in his hair, tugging him roughly down until his mouth meets hers. The kiss is desperate and consuming, her hands roving over his back and chest while Ethan traces patterns on the exposed skin of her back.

“I’ve missed this.” Ethan manages before crushing his mouth back to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

Camille sighs in agreement, pulling him close and melding her body against his until it’s hard to tell where his body ends and hers begins.

Her hips rock boldly against him, and Ethan bites back a groan, all too aware that they’re still in the middle of a very public dance floor.

As their frantic kiss slows to gentle brushes of his lips against hers, Ethan smooths his hands over her back, holding her as tightly as he dares. He gazes down at her in amazement, and she stares back, her eyes alight with joy and promise.

“Is that a yes, then? To being with me?” Ethan asks, trying to keep his giddiness at bay. He doesn’t deserve this woman, not even a little, but if she’ll have him... The rising tide of his hope is an almost overwhelming warmth in his chest.

“I…” Camille’s voice trails off, and the light in her eyes extinguishes. She pulls back, not quite out of his embrace, but enough for the distance between them to feel insurmountable.

Ethan closes his eyes, feeling a fresh wave of despair wash over him. He’s too late, too much time has passed. Whatever they once had is unsalvageable. He had known that it was a longshot, but he knows he couldn’t live with himself if he hadn’t at least tried.

“I want to say yes, I really do.” Camille says, shaking her head despondently. “But I can’t move back to Boston. I have a life in San Francisco, now. I have an apartment with a great view of the Bay, and my career is finally taking off… You don’t get to follow me and ask me to give all of that up, it’s not fair.”

She looks up at him, restrained hope in her eyes, as if she’s waiting for Ethan to make a grand gesture, to convince her that he’s worth another chance.

“Does your apartment allow dogs?” Ethan asks instead.

Camille looks away, and he can see the disappointment wash over her face. Disappointment in him, for once again choosing to take the path of least resistance, and once again refusing to fight for her.

“The song’s over, and I’m not interested in making small-talk about my apartment with you. I should go.” She tries to pull back, but Ethan doesn’t release her, maintaining a firm but gentle grip on her waist.

“It’s not small-talk. You should know I hate that more than anyone.” Ethan says, his fingers pressing insistently against her waist, the smooth fabric of her dress bunching beneath his fingertips.

“I need to know if your apartment allows dogs. I need to know if I can have Alan put Jenner on the first flight out to San Francisco tomorrow morning, or if I have to wait until we find a new place.”

Camille’s eyes search his face with obvious confusion.

“What? I don’t… Jenner?” Camille stammers for a moment as she collects her thoughts, her hands absentmindedly resting on his chest. Ethan feels his heart skip at the casual intimacy of her fingers toying with his lapels. “You want to move out to San Francisco?”

“Yes.” Ethan says shortly. “When I said I didn’t want to leave your side, I meant it.”

“Ethan, we’ve been over this. If one of us gives up our career for the other we’ll just end up resenting each other. You’ve been working at Edenbrook for over a decade, I can’t let you give it up for me.”

“Edenbrook is…wonderful. I have enjoyed working there, but at the end of the day it’s just a job. When I came home to an empty apartment at the end of the day, it wasn’t Edenbrook I was thinking about, Camille, it was you.”

“But you love Edenbrook.” Camille says uncertainly, her eyes begging for an explanation.

“I like Edenbrook, most assuredly.” Ethan cups her face in his hands, running his thumbs over her smooth skin. “But I love you.”

“You…love me?” Camille asks, her green eyes gazing up at him, starry with hope. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and Ethan is sure he’s never seen her look more beautiful.

“I do.” he murmurs, unwilling-- unable to look away from her awed expression.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” Camille whispers back, a luminous smile growing on her face.

“Camille, I’ve been a complete fool, I know that. But I have to know… if you still…” Ethan stumbles over his words, his grip on her tightening in thinly veiled desperation.

“If I still love you back?” she prompts, her light and teasing tone a far cry from her earlier anguish.

Ethan nods, the agony of not knowing threatening to consume him altogether.

Camille’s expression softens, and her fingers drift to his face, tenderly tracing the contour of his cheekbone.

“Of course I do. How could I not?” she asks with a soft laugh, lifting one shoulder in a bashful shrug that is entirely too alluring. His eyes trail over her exposed collarbone.

Ethan can’t wait to take her to his suite upstairs and find out if the skin under that red dress is as sweet as he remembers. But there will be plenty of time for that later, after he hears the three words that have been haunting him ever since she boarded that plane.

“Say it. Please.” Ethan presses his forehead to hers, unbridled joy threatening to bring him to his knees. There are few scenarios that involve the great Ethan Ramsey being reduced to begging, and every last one centers around the gorgeous, brilliant woman in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

This time, she pushes herself onto her tiptoes to close the distance beteen them. And when their lips meet, Ethan knows that he has made the right decision. Edenbrook, Boston, he can take or leave all of it, as long as he has her.

***

Tagging separately since I have no idea if tumblr will decide to work or not :)

#open heart #ethan ramsey #oph #oh #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart fanfiction #playchoices

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

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Doctor, doctor

A/N: hello I’m here to provide Natsuo porn and not tag my natsuo loving friends in it out of petty revenge

Pairing: Todoroki Natsuo x reader

Description: You were feeling funny, so you looked for help from your trusty doctor.

Warning: is this roleplay idk but doctor references (I said this every time there’s anything medical related in my porn but all the respect to the medical workers out there please don’t take this too seriously qwq), fingering, vaginal penetration

Word count: 2384

“Doctor, I’m not feeling well.”

“Oh?” Natsuo looked up at you as your honey sweet voice rang in his ears. You sounded so innocent, so much worry lacing your words that he knew something was up the moment he heard the door being pushed open.

You were leaning against the frame of the door, your waist curving as your arms stretched out. He could not help but let his eyes wander around your form. You were wearing the flimsy silk robe he got you, the one with the lace trimmings by the edge and tying snugly around your waist. The pale fabric did very little to hide what was underneath, pebbled peaks pressing against the soft silk and leaving his imagination ran wild.

Always a good girl, making his job easy by wearing something easy to take off.

He sat back against his chair, eyes glimmering with interest as you sauntered over to him and settled on his lap. Your bare legs hiking up as they crossed and making the robe shift. You smiled when his large palm found its way to the small of your back.

“And how exactly are you not feeling well?” He asked, sounding so serious but you could feel his control slowly faltering when you arched your back so that your tits were pressed up against his firm chest.

“Well...” you said, pretending like you were really thinking hard about his question and pouting a little, biting the bottom of your lips as you looked up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ve been feeling so hot recently.”

“Hot?” He questioned, his other hand inching towards the soft flesh of your thigh.

“Yes,” your breath hitched a little when you felt the cold pad of his fingers tracing along the exposed skin of where your leg and hips connected, “it’s like my skin is burning up so badly.”

You could see the swell on his throat bobbed when you took his hand in yours and placing it firmly against the mound of your breast, squeezing it so that he was groping you properly. “It’s especially bad here,” you said as you gripped his hand and fondled your chest, letting him feel it beneath his fingers. He could feel the hardened tip of your nipple even on top of the fabric and the thought of you being so needy for him had his blood boiling.

“and here.” your voice was breathy as you slid his hand downwards until it was sitting at the slit of the robe. His eyebrow quirked up when he felt the warm skin underneath. You were not wearing anything under that, sly little thing. He could in and just slip inside of you just like that if he wanted to, but he pushed the thought of taking you right then and there away. He would play your little game if that was what you wanted.

“It burns so bad it almost hurts,” you said, almost like a sigh as he rubbed small circles on your hips, “especially when I’m not touching it.”

You batted your eyes, shoulders shrugging so the robe slid off of you and pooled around your arms. The swell of your breast right in front of his eyes as you made a show to press your arms together. “Doctor, can you make it stop?”

“Oh this is a very serious issue you have here,” he tilted his head, trying his best to contain the grin that was about to break out at how you threw yourself at him just like that, “I might have to give you a more... thorough check up in order to know how I can help you.”

You whelped when he lifted your up, one arm hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back. The tie at your waist was near loosened at he stood up, the thin silk providing little to no use in covering any of the glory underneath.

You whimpered when he laid you on your back against the hard wood surface of his desk. Sturdy and grand, one of the few things he splurged on when buying furniture for the house was this lovely mahogany desk, and he was forever happy about the purchase especially with how lovely the pale silk looked in contrast with the dark wood. He undid your robe, feeling the painful ache of his cock straining against his pants when he drank in your naked body all laid out for him. He had no shame when he eyed you from head to toe, taking in every soft bump and sharp edge like a predator observing its feast. You were so delicate, so vulnerable as you spread yourself for his inspection, he could devour you until you were just a broken mess under him.

But for now he would control himself, for he had a job to do.

“Let’s start from...” he said, danger dripping from his voice and you felt shivered down your core at how the octave of his voice dropped, he eyes dark with lust as he stepped closer to you. Your back arched off the table when his finger traced your collar bone. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, “now stay still, we can’t get this done with your squirming like that.” The authority in his eyes made you whine as you tried to hold back the urge to beg for just a little bit of contact.

“Let’s start from,” he leaned down as he said, his hand on your waist as his lips hovered over your sensitive bud. Your nipples were already hard and sensitive from the silk rubbing against it earlier and now with his hot breath fanning against it, you could practically feel yourself leaking onto the wood surface. A choked moan slipped from your lips when he swirled the tip of his tongue around one of them. “here.”

“My, my,” he said in forged astonishment as he took the tip into his mouth, licking and nibbling as he pinned you underneath him, “you’re so sensitive on here." Emphasizing his words with a pinch on the neglected side of your breast, he chuckled at your neediness but quickly put his act back on. “I’m gonna need to pay attention to these more.”

It took you all of your might to stop yourself from bucking into his touch when he moved to the other side, lips lingering on the side of your flesh as his hand kneaded you. “Such beautiful tits,” he said as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, "perfect to hold, just right to suck on...”

He reached down to palm himself as you moaned at the praise. “Tell doctor how it feels,” he pulled back, smirking when you immediately whined at the lost of contact, “does it make you feel good here?”

“Yes! Yes doctor,” he groaned at how obedient you are, your hands clawing at the smooth wood beneath you, “it feels so good.”

“So good at following instructions...” he whispered against the valley of your breast. Goosebumps rose on your skin as he pressed featherlight kisses along your stomach all the way down until his jaw was leaning against the spot right above your legs.

You shook when his thumb pulled back the hood of your clit and pressed a soft kiss on the little bud.

“Is this where the ache comes from?”

You nodded abruptly, earning you a rumbled laugh from your doctor. The vibration from the back of his throat made your toes curled.

“Do you need doctor to take a good look at this needy pussy?”

His crude words made you melt, and you could not care less about anything other than the need for him to just give you what you want. “Yes,” you stuttered when you felt a lean finger tracing your folds, your slick arousal only growing as he toyed with the mess he made, “please doctor...”

A loud moan echoed in the study when he slid in two digits without warning, the lewd noises of squelching rang by your ears as he slowly stretched you out with his thick, long fingers. You could feel the permanent knuckle as he curled it against your velvety walls, scissoring inside of you in an agonising pace.

“Look how easily it slips in,” he said matter-of-factly, the nonchalant tone he used as he pumped his fingers in you somehow made you want him even more, “you must need this very, very badly huh?”

None of your miniatures could escape his intense stare. Your rigid breaths, the muscle on your arm spasming as he dragged his finger along your insides, soft moans from your parted lips. He took it all in, remembering it in his head as he thought of the most appropriate diagnosis for your little problem.

“I think we need to look at this more carefully just so I won’t miss any... symptoms,” he pursed his lips as he wiggled the digits inside of you, feeling your wetness coating him and the clench of your pussy around the fingers, “tell me when the spot is right, ok?”

How could he sound so calm, so... professional when you were already a heaving mess. You yelped when he crooked his finger as you didn’t respond.

“What do you need to say?”

You were nearly breathless and he could see the rise and fall of your chest perfectly. “Yes doctor.”

“Good.” Your hands desperately searched for leverage as his finger found its way to the depth of your core, your knees bucking up involuntarily at the chills that it sent up your body. But that was yet to be the reaction he was looking for.

“Is this it?”

“N- no...” you said, your voice but a whimper.

He clicked his tongue, the pad of his finger pressing against your walls. He knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get you to fall apart, but it would not be a good check up if he didn’t explore every inch.

“What about this?”

“Deeper...”

“Deeper?” He chuckled in amusement. The sudden hook of his digit within you sent a jolt of electricity down your spine when it brushed against the spongy spot that made your sense mingled together.

“Here!” You squealed, hips snapping up out of reflex as the numbing wave of pleasure traveled all the way down your body.

“Oh, look at you.” He sounded almost concerned when he pulled his fingers out of your cunt completely. A sharp mewl left your throat at the sudden lost of friction. He licked off the clear liquid on his hand, making a show to release it with a pop as he tasted your arousal. “Your situation is way more dire than I thought it would be.”

The sound of belt buckle rattling lit up your senses, and you could feel yourself throb in anticipation as you pulled down his pants to release his aching cock. It had been painfully hard with his patience in taking his time with you, the tip an angry shade of red and dripping pre-cum as he rubbed it along your folds.

“We’re gonna have to give you a strong and effective cure,” he said, teasing your slit and collecting your juices, “something that can reach deep inside you...”

You moaned when he pushed just a little bit of his length in, watching as he threw his head back when he was eloped with your warmth. “Injected in your body so that you will get every drop of it...”

You mewled when he pushed you up and placed a firm kiss on your lips, pushing just a little bit deeper but not enough.

“What do you have to say?”

“Please doctor-”

Your gripped his shoulder as a sharp moan was ripped from your throat the moment he pushed all the way in. Your body shook with each hard thrust of his hips and it was like even the strong table he had you on was shaking from his frantic movements too. You hooked your legs around his waist, trying to get him to hit you at an even deeper angle.

His hands were everywhere as he hilted in you, your hips almost lifted off the surface to his liking as he salvaged you as he pleased. Your hands were clawing at his back, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt tensed up with each flex of his arms together with the snaps of his pelvis.

His name was a mantra on your lips, you whimpered and moaned your god doctor’s name as he relieved you of the ache that was burning inside you. He was always here to take care of every need you had, giving you just the right treatment you so desperately needed.

You could feel him twitch inside of you, your walls clenching at the sensation as he pushed you over the edge. His hands were rough as he gripped you by the saw and pulled your close. The force of his kiss bruising as he swallowed your moans. You were seeing white when thick spurts of his cum splattered your walls, his thrusts getting sloppy as he rode out his high.

You were putty in his hands as he clutched you close. He was still warm inside of you, and your legs that were already sore and weak still clutch around him as you felt the stickiness being pushed out of you.

Slowly pulling away, he watched as your pussy clenched from the emptiness. You whined when he pushed the leaking cum back inside, the dull ache vivid and unable to be pushed away.

“Now, you gotta keep all of it in.” He said, a small smile tucking at his lips as he leaned down. “Or else it will not work.”

“I can just come to you for another dose if I need it again.” You muttered, resting your face on his broad shoulder.

He chuckled, “Be careful now, we don’t want to get you addicted.”

He stared at intent when you reached down to collect a bit of his cum that was pooling inside of you. You were grinning from ear to ear when you looked at him in the eye while making a show to swirl your tongue around the white liquid at your finger tip.

“Too late.”

#todoroki natsuo x reader #todoroki natsuo imagine #todoroki natsuo smut #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha smut

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transformer-imagines · 4 years

Text

Happy Together

No one asked for this, but I’m the one in control of the aux cord on this blog and I wanna indulge myself with some cute Dinobot shenanigans

Sludge (G1) x Bot!Reader (sfw)

2672 Words

Everyone and their creator knew that the Ark’s med bay was understaffed. Ratchet was the only one qualified enough to consider a doctor, so mechs tried to help out however they could. Being in the war for the better part of your life, you had picked up what medical knowledge you could in order to aid your comrades; you couldn’t offer much, but you tried to help Ratchet as much as you could. Normally this translated into running errands, taking basic vitals, or doing some patch work.

It was all hands on deck in the med bay today. A particularly nasty skirmish sent so many bots your way that anyone in non-critical condition was asked to sit on the floor. You were scurrying about between them, jotting down names and conditions on your datapad. Even the thick platted Dinobots hadn’t come out of the fight clean. The aspiring team medic, Swoop, was one of the few permitted a seat on an exam table, Wheeljack working to reattach his wing. He was the only Dinobot that you had ever really spoken to, being in and around the med bay so often. He was an excitable and enthusiastic young bot, not something anyone would be able to tell with the way his vocalizer was whining static.

His brothers had tried valiantly to remain with him in the med bay but were shooed out by Wheeljack; there were just too many injured bots for them to be taking up all that space. Only Sludge was allowed to stay, waiting to get patched up with the other mechs on the floor. You were saving him for last, not overly eager to face him; his intimidating size dwarfed most bots and the Dinobots weren’t well known for their friendly dispositions.

Eventually, you could put it off no longer. You tried your best to exude confidence and professionalism in your EM field as you approached. Sludge took notice, straightening up from tracing absentminded patterns on the floor panels to send a curious look your way. Oh Primus, he was sitting down and you barely even reached the top of his chassis.

“So, uh, you’re name’s Sludge, right? I’m Y/N.” He gave a hum in response, nodding his head in agreement that yes, his name was in fact Sludge. “Can you show me where you’re hurt?” He nodded again, moving his right pede out for you to inspect. What you could make out as his alt dino casing was shredded, jagged metal torn and fraying out from the wound.

“Right next to big explosion. Took out him Swoop. Lots of shrapnel, tore off wing and hit me in side.” He turned slightly and gestured to the kibble on his back. “More here.” You gestured for him to turn fully so you could inspect the damage as you jotted down his abridged account on your datapad. He was lucky his plating was so thick, as the force of the explosion probably would’ve hit major energon lines in any other bot. Most of his damage was superficial, deep as it was, though the shrapnel had managed to nick a few minor energon lines.

“There wouldn’t have been an explosion in the first place if it wasn’t for you ditzy dinos!” You finished jotting down the damage before looking sharply in the direction of the whiny outburst. Of course it was Huffer. “If you hadn’t given us away, none of us would be in here!”

“We’re all on the same team, Huffer,” you said with a wave of your servo. “So stop harassing patients or I’ll turn off your vocalizer.” A resounding laugh sounded from behind you.

“You must have a glitch in your memory core, Huffer,” said Hound. “The Dinobots gave us away by saving your tailpipe!”

“I could’ve taken care of it!”

You left the two to their bickering, patting your patient on his knee plating to get his attention. “You’re not too badly damaged. Since I got to you last for diagnostic, I’m gonna go ahead a patch you up first, okay?” You offered Sludge a kind smile, trying to provide better bedside manner than Huffer. He took it, returning your smile with one of his own and moving to expose the damage on his leg more as you fished around subspace for your welder and some titanium patches.

It certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Sludge. He had a knack for denting his plating, either over the course of sparing with his brothers or while out in the field. You would’ve thought that he’d just get Swoop to take care of it, but more and more frequently he would be stopping by the med bay; he said he liked how much quieter it was there than in the retrofitted cave the Dinobots had claimed as their own.

It was almost laughable how intimidating you found Sludge when you first met. He had a gentle spark, reserved and well-intentioned. Sure he didn’t have the fastest processor, but you couldn’t keep up with Perceptor either; and what was a smart mech worth if they weren’t also kind? You’d much rather spend time with Sludge than Shockwave. It didn’t hurt that he was a good listener, too. Despite what other Autobots might suggest, he had a good memory, asking for updates on personal projects that you had mentioned offhandedly the last time you saw him. And he had a creative mind! Swoop had been talking to you about how Sludge had recently taken up two-dimensional etching and drawing. And he had a handsome face, delicate touch when getting your attention, and –

Wait what? Hold on, were you…did you have a crush on Sludge? Oh Primus, this was just what you needed in the middle of a war. Still, you could do worse. And the spark wants what the spark wants… So what, maybe you did have a crush on him. You might as well try and see where it goes; in this war you had to make what joys you could.

“Is it just me or does Y/N look like they’re trying to court somebot?”

It was gossip time in the empty corridor, two mechs making good use of the late hour and lack of nearby audio receptors to concern themselves with the lives of others.

“You just noticed? Yea, I caught em in the wash polishing like it was going out of style,” Cliffjumper gave a short laugh at the memory. “You’da thunk I’d caught em sneaking extra rations with the way they bolted outta there.”

“Any ideas who the lucky mech is?” Powerglide didn’t give the minibot a moment to answer before continuing. “I overheard from Doc Ratch one of the Dinobots has got a lil crush; maybe we’ve got some love-birds on base?”

“Primus, I hope not. No one deserves to have a dumb dino on their tail; they’re so stupid and clumsy, they’d wind up melting the poor bot down! Honestly, I think Y/N deserves better than getting slagged by Slag.”

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any,” the plane sniped.

“Powerglide, I’m just a realist. I can’t help that your processor is full of that romantic scrap.”

“Cliffjumper, I can’t help that you have an incurably abrasive personality.” Powerglide gave the Porsche a hearty pat as he began walking further down the hall. “Come on, maybe we can get Ratch to fix that personality component of yours! Or at least we can sit down; my struts are killing me!”

“I do not have an abrasive personality, you silicon sanded showboat!”

Neither took notice of the saddened giant on the other side of the corridor, watching the retreating mechs from around the corner.

Sitting in one of the metal booths stuck to the far wall of the Rec Room, you found yourself thinking it all through. Lost in the swirling liquid of your energon cube, you wondered if you had been reading the situation wrong. You thought that Sludge had reciprocated your feelings, but he hadn’t really responded to your efforts. He never mimicked your attempts at posing or polishing. Maybe he was just unaware of Cybertronian flirting? It would make sense, as he was made on Earth, but even then you would’ve thought someone would take pity on him and explain your efforts. It wasn’t like you were being subtle, even in non-Cybertronian terms. You even got advice from Carly, trying to figure out how she’d won over someone as oblivious as Spike. You tried to be as obvious as possible, complimenting his skills and appearance and inviting him to recreational activities. But even then, he would look flustered and come up with some reason to turn you down. Maybe he was just trying to let you down on amicable terms, ignore your advances but maintain your acquaintanceship. Maybe he-

“Hi! Room here to sit?”

The scratchy voice startled you out of your reprieve; you must’ve really been in your own processor not to notice the dinobot flyer approaching.

“Oh, Swoop! Yeah, of course, take a seat,” you gestured across the table. It was almost humorous watching him try to squeeze himself into the clearly too small booth; being the smallest dinobot still made him one of the biggest Autobots. Finally situating himself, he flashed you a mischievous smirk and his optics flashed in mirth. “How’s it going?”

“Good! Had to get out of Dino Den, though; too loud for reading when Grimlock and Slag fighting.” He emphasized his point by producing an anatomical datapad and setting it on the table.

“Well that’s too bad,” you said. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Him Snarl hog TV all day, watching Nurse Whitney.” His tone held a slight annoyance at the distraction it must’ve posed to his own studying; you knew he was quite fond of the show, and probably found it near impossible not to be watching it. His optics lit up in sudden remembrance, a squawk making its way past his vocalizer as he straightened his posture. “Sludge work on project! Big art project!”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It pretty, very pretty! Him Sludge good at art. Best Dinobot, maybe even best Autobot! And good at other things too!” Swoop emphasized his point by holding aloft a digit, helm held high with a self-assured expression. “Him strong, very strong! Last fight, him take out twenty, no, thirty Decepticons! Him good at keeping others safe, protecting. Oh, and him best fisher of Dinobots! Good provider! Patient and quiet and-”

“Wait, what’s fishing?”

“Fish earth animals, live in water. Humans and Dinobots like catching fish, very fun and -”

It was hard not to notice the lumbering form of Sludge entering the Rec behind the chatty Pteranodon. His sweeping optics seemed to stop in the direction of your booth (though you suppose it would be hard not to notice Swoop, what with his crest and loud voice), his optics seeming to blink out for a second. Swoop continued on, oblivious to his brother’s presence.

That is until Sludge began stomping his way over. You quickly grabbed onto the table, thankful that it was bolted into the wall as the ground shook under his weight. It wasn’t often you were reminded of his tremorous step, but it seemed that whatever had gotten under his plating was enough for him to have forgotten the virtue of gentle pedes. You didn’t expect to see his normally soft features so soured, mouth drawn into a tight line and optics darkened into a furrowed glare. With his massive stride, it didn’t take long before Sludge reached you. His servo came to rest behind Swoop, the back of the booth’s bench groaning under his weight as he leaned down, optic to optic with his brother.

“What you Swoop think you do?” His voice seemed edged with a nervous worry.

“Me just talking to Y/N,” Swoop answered, flashing the Brontosaurus the same mischievous smile he had given you earlier. “You know they want go fishing? Me say you should take them!”

“Yeah,” you interjected, ignoring the fact that you had never discussed joining the Dinobots on their fishing exploits. “I think it sounds like fun!” You couldn’t help the eagerness that steeped into your EM field, hopeful that you might finally get an opportunity to spend some true quality time with him outside of the occasional med bay visit.

Sludge seemed to soften a bit at your reply, gifting you with a gentle smile before his brow furrowed. His smile turned to a slight pout as his gaze drifted down, seeming to be a bit lost in thought. He exvented sharply, lugging Swoop out of his seat and maneuvering the now indignant mech around to carry him under one arm. Ignoring his squirming brother, he turned to you with a sad smile that he tried to mask with a projected air of confidence in his EM.

“Me Sludge think on it. Would be fun. Uh, him Ratchet ask to talk to him Swoop, so we see you Y/N later.” With the lame excuse, he turned to leave the Rec. With a loud squawk, Swoop made his opinion on the matter known.

“No! Him Sludge like Y/N! Like whole bunch!” That seemed to stop the brontosaurus dead in his tracks, grip loosened enough in shock that the loud flyer was able to transform out of his grasp. He seemed stuck in place as his processor caught up with the situation. In contrast, you and Swoop seemed to be a flurry of movement, standing up from your seat in the booth as the Pteranodon perched himself on the back of the bench.

“Really?” Your response, lackluster as it might’ve been, was all you could dumbly muster up at the revelation.

“Yes, him won’t shut up about it! ‘Oh, them Y/N so nice, very sweet. Pretty face, pretty smile. Feel like me Sludge melt when they look at me. So smart, so kind.’” Swoop’s impression left quite a bit to be desired, but that was the last thing on your mind, your gaze drifting to the gentle giant in question as you took in his words. Sludge had sheepishly turned halfway towards you, optics firmly locked to the ground and servos fiddling together nervously. “Us Dinobots try talk to him about anything, him always distracted or drawing you.” That seemed to catch Sludge’s full attention. “Him have big project now, draw y-” A large servo suddenly came to rest on the Pteranodon’s beak, clamping it shut before anything too embarrassing could be shared. You craned your helm up to look at Sludge, his cheek plating positively painted with the glow of his optics and lips drawn into a pout.

“Sludge, is that true? Do you really like me?” His optics bashfully locked on the ground again, answering you with a soft nod. He dared a glance at your face before averting his gaze again. “You know, I like you a lot too.” That seemed to win his attention, finally maintaining some real eye contact. He nodded again with a hum and you frowned. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” That stung, knowing that he was aware of your advances all along and hadn’t done anything. Especially when he apparently liked you too.

He opened his mouth before closing it, brow furrowing. You gave him a moment to formulate his thoughts.

“You Y/N deserve better than Sludge.” He spoke slowly, thinking hard on his words. “Deserve someone smart and not clumsy or stumbly. Deserve someone not hurt you.” You frowned at that.

“Sludge, you are one of the gentlest mech’s I know. You haven’t hurt me yet and I don’t think you will,” you said, stepping closer to him. “And in any case, I think I would know better than anyone else what I deserve. I think I deserve to be happy and getting to spend time with you makes me happy. You make me happy. Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s be happy together.”

BONUS:

“SQUAWK! Let Swoop go! No want to see smooches!”

#transformers #maccadam #sludge #sludge x reader #cybertronian reader #dinobots #swoop #g1 #tf sludge #transformers imagines #oneshot #thinking about doing another one with slag #maybe make a little series for all the dinobots?#also still need to write that smut oneshot that's just a one night stand with astrotrain #the working title of this was himbosludge #I'm a morosexual and proud #in which reader is also a morosexual

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drariellevalentine · 4 years

Text

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 8- Glamorous Girls’ Night

Warnings:- Very mild cursing, alcohol

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Ethan Ramsey, Naveen Banerji, Alyssa Raines, Kyra Santana, Ines Delarosa, Jackie Varma, Arabelle Raines

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Arielle’s PoV:-

You wake up to Sienna's calls which by the time you go to pick up ends. Yawning you rub your eyes and reach for your phone. You unlock it to find seven missed calls and innumerable texts from Sienna.

“OMG Si! I’m sooo sorry!! I didn’t see your texts at all! Please forgive me!!🥺🥺🥺”, you text back.

"..Fine. Only cause you're my bestie. Now I'm calling you, you're going to answer and tell me word for word of what happened yesterday night as punishment!" She texts you back almost immediately.

"Deal! Just give me a few minutes.", you reply. Getting up from the bed you reach for your bag to take out the things that you need. After brushing your teeth and then combing your hair you unlock your phone again. Going through the contact list you stop at Sienna's number and video call her. "Hi!" Sienna greets you excited.

"Hi," you say.

"You've got a lot to say Ari. But before that, everything is okay, right?" Her concerned voice asks.

"Yes, everything is fine," you smile at her concern.

"Good! Now I need all the details about the "work" you were doing that kept you so busy that you couldn't even reply to my texts or pick my call." You roll your eyes even though she can't see.

"The "work" I was doing was finding out what's wrong with my godfather. And I couldn't reply because I was sleeping."

"Ooh! "

"What "ooh!"?"

"Sleeping with your... " She doesn't finish the sentence but you don't need her to, you already know what she's saying.

"God Si! He's my boss!" She snickers.

"And I’m in his guest room, he's in his room!"

"I know Ari. I was just teasing you. You don't need to explain things to me."

"I know."

"But I need all the details though. What you talked about, even Dr. Banerji's symptoms and what diagnosis you guys made. Everything!" "Fine!" I start filling her with Naveen's condition and the diseases we ruled out.

"That's all?" She asks after I am done.

"Yeah...Why?"

"Medicine can't be the only thing you talked about..."

"Si," I try to warn her to stop teasing me.

"C'mon! There must be something!"

"Umm... his dog? He's so freaking cute! I almost tripped while watching him," you start saying. Well, correction, I tripped while watching him," you laugh.

"You tripped? And you are telling that to me now! Are you hurt?" Sienna switches to mother hen mode.

"Calm down Si! I sprained my ankle slightly but that's it."

"How badly did you injure yourself?

“I think I injured myself quite bad? I couldn't even walk properly, don’t worry it’s fine now! Dr. Ramsey had to carry me inside-" you abruptly stop realizing what you just said. You see Sienna's smirk growing wider.

"He did what?!" She asked surprised.

"Nothing."

"Arielle!"

"Sienna!"

"Ari!"

“Fine! He was just helping me okay?”

"Sureeee!" She says in a teasing voice, " I mean obviously bosses invite their interns to their home and then carries them inside like their bride!”

"Sienna!" I exclaim in a shocked voice and she laughs. You both talk for a little while and then wave goodbye. After ending your phone call with Si, you head out to the empty living room. “Hmm...he must be sleeping. Thank god, or else he would have heard everything!” You open the fridge and spot a bottle of almond milk. You pour yourself a glass and just try to relax, but can’t. Yesterday’s events keep running through your mind until you can’t take it anymore. You wash your glass and keep it aside when you spot a yoga mat tucked away in the corner. You go to your room and get dressed in the simple grey and black outfit, pulling your hair into a high ponytail. Wearing your AirPods, you play a playlist of tunes and head out to stretch. You start with slowly stretching our your entire sore body, making sure not to put much weight on your ankle. Starting with a few simple positions, you slowly work your way up to the harder ones. Pulling out your phone, you quickly set a timer and flex yourself into another position, just as the flash goes off. You quickly post it on Instagram.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You wake up to the alarm you set for 6:45, brushing and flossing your teeth. You pull on a dark grey v-neck and head out with a half-asleep where you see Arielle in a very twisted, complex position. Not knowing why, you find yourself mesmerised by the fluid way she moves her body from one position to the next. She arches her back and kicks her leg up, twisting her head to the side when she sees you leaning near the doorframe. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, she quickly brushes herself off, taking off her earphones and heads towards you. “Good morning! I didn’t see you there.” You can’t but help trail your eyes over her body, skin-tight leggings and all. She doesn’t seem to notice as she focuses her attention on Jenner.

“Hey, boy! Looks like somebody’s sleepy!” She looks up at you. “I hope you don’t mind, I grabbed a glass of almond milk from the fridge. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you.”, she says as she scoops him into her arms.

“That’s quite alright. You do know I have a treadmill here right? You can use it if you want, there’s also some other equipment here.” You lead her to an open but tucked away place where you’ve set up all your equipment.

“Join me.”, she says.

“I will.” You head to your room and pull on an outfit and find her using your old treadmill, talking to Jenner at the same time. You’ve never seen Jenner get along with someone this quickly.

“I don’t know why you bought a new one. This is perfectly fine.”, she says as she notices you enter.

“For your height, yes. The handlebars are quite short.”

“Hey! I can’t help it that I’m short! Plus, you’re 6’4”! That’s as tall as a basketball player!”, she says ridiculously. You laugh as you start running on the new treadmill beside her. In 30 minutes, both of you have worked up a good sweat and appetite.

“Okay, I’m done! I’m going to take a shower and then we’ll make something for breakfast.” She heads off to her room as you finish off yours and jump in the shower. After getting dressed and drying your hair until it’s damp, you head into the kitchen to find her climbing on top of the kitchen counter. She’s dressed in a very short hoodie and jeans...or leggings, you’re not quite sure.

“What are you doing?!”

She turns around as she shouts, “Don’t sneak up on a girl like that! I’m trying to grab that pan. Why do you keep everything up so high?!” Laughing, you grab the pan from the shelf with ease and hand to her as she gets down.

“You do know how to cook, right?” She gives you an incredulous look.

“I’m making banana French Toast. Is that okay? I mean you have all the ingredients.” Thank god she isn’t making pancakes.

“Okay, So what’s your recipe?” She gestures to a spread of ingredients. “I need two bowls, a fork and a electric whisk.” You pull out everything from the cabinets and hand it to her. “Okay, first we’ll start with the eggs.” She cracks a few into the bowl and whisks them vigorously until they turn pale yellow and frothy. “Now the sugar and butter.” You hand her the softened butter and sugar. Without measuring, she adds them into the eggs.

“No measuring?”, you ask.

“Naveen.”, she nonchalantly responds as she beats the mixture. You recall the times of when he would cook, never using any type of measurement.

“That man despises measuring cups.”

“Tell me about it! Him and my cousin have debates about it every single time they meet. My cousin’s a professional chef. Now, hand me those ripe bananas.” Handing them over, she quickly peels and mashes them together, adding a lot of vanilla extract. You raise an eyebrow.

“It tastes much better! Now the milk, just enough to thin out the batter.” You hand her the carton of milk. She incorporates it into the batter. Then picking up the bowl of eggs, butter and sugar, she carefully folds it into the banana.

“Okay, done! Now, hand me that pan.” She turns on the stove and adds just a touch of butter to the pan. “If you add too much butter, the bread will become too soft.” She takes a slice of bread and submerges it into the batter. Holding it for a few seconds, she places it onto the pan. Making about 5 pieces while you put away all the ingredients and brew coffee, she places two in one and three in another.

“Do you have chocolate or maple syrup?” You hand her both of them. She pours a little to yours while adding a lot to hers, bringing both the plates to the dining table, along with the coffee you brewed. Jenner starts sniffing the plates.

“No, no, no. Those aren’t for you, they have chocolate. Let’s go get you some food. Where you you keep the dog food?” You pull out Jenner’s food and set a bowl of food and water for him, then go sit down with Arielle.

She pushes the plate with 3 slices towards you. “Try it! It’s one of my special recipes.” You take a bite and you try not to show any emotion. Lord, that is good! “So...how is it?”

“It’s adequate.” She laughs as she takes a bite. Both of you start eating when suddenly her phone rings, Jenner starts barking.

She bends down, “It’s okay, boy. It’s just this.” She shows him her lit up phone. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You open your phone and see it’s Elijah. “Hey Elijah!”

“Where the hell were you, Ari! We were worried!”

“I’m so sorry! I’m at.. my friend’s house right now. I told Si though.”

“Yeah, I know. She tried calling you but you didn’t answer yesterday. Anyways, apparently you left your shift early yesterday? What happened?”

“Oh that. I wasn’t feeling well and Ines sent me home, I’m fine though now. I ended up twisting my ankle so I couldn’t drive home last night. I’ll be at the apartment in an hour.”

“K, see you.” You hang up and turn to Ethan where you find him finishing his plate. “Sorry about that. My roommates were wondering where I was. Sienna covered for me so I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you left your shift early?” You wince, completely forgetting what you told him.

“I didn’t exactly want to explain, plus I’m fine now.” He nods.

“How did you all get an apartment together, did you know each other before?” You recount the story of what happened as you finish off breakfast. After helping him with the dishes, you go to your room and pack all your stuff and head towards the door as Ethan follows.

“I had a nice time, although I wish we had met by Naveen introducing us. Probably would have saved me that first dressing down.” You notice a flash of regret in his eyes. “But I still don’t mind how we met.” You wave as you head down to your car, driving towards your apartment. You find Elijah, Sienna and Landry on the sofa, watching a movie. “Hey guys!” They turn to look at you.

“Where were you?”, Landry asks. You’re careful not to give away anything.

“My friend was visiting from Chicago, I went to see him.” You drop your stuff and sit near Sienna, as you watch the movie.

“So...what happened this morning?”, she smirks.

“Nothing! Now shut up!”, you say playfully, but quietly.

A few hours later, you, Sienna and Jackie are lounging on the sofa after lunch. “Guys, I’m bored and burnt out from studying. Let’s do something.”, Jackie says.

“But what? Elijah and Landry have gone to another baseball game for a guys’ night with some of the surgical interns.”, Si says. An idea strikes you.

“Guys, what if we have a girls’ night?! We could have a spa day! What do you say?!”

“That’s a great idea! But who do we invite?”, Si asks. You think.

“Let’s invite Kyra and Ines. I’ll go see if Phoebe’s in. And... I think Alyssa’s in town.”, you say.

“Who’s Alyssa?”, Jackie asks.

“My sister-in-law.”, you reply.

“OMG! Do you mean Alyssa Raines? The fashion icon of all time!?”, Si bursts. You nod.

“Yep! And I think she might bring Arabelle along too.”

Sienna shrieks, “This is going to be so much fun! Right Jackie?!” She rolls her eyes.

“Okay, So I have a bunch of products for whipping up masks and scrubs, so I’ll get them out and start organising after calling Alyssa. You two see if Kyra, Ines and Phoebe are up for it. It’s 3 right now so...tell them to come over at 5.” Both of them step outside the apartment to call Phoebe.

You go into your room and call Aly.

“Aunt Arielle! Hiiiii!”, she shouts. You can hear Aly shouting in the background to give the phone to her.

“Hi Belle. Can you do Zia a favour and give the phone to mommy please?”

“Okay!........Hey Ari!”

“Hey Aly, I was just wondering if you were in town. The girls and I were planning to do a spa day. Do you want to join?”

“I don’t know...I need someone to watch Belle”-

You cut her off. “You can bring Belle along. So, it starts at 5. Can you make it?”

“Umm...let me check.” You hear her talking to one of her assistants. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Do you want me to bring anything?”

You think. “Well...it would be nice if we all had matching robes. I’ll send you the address.”

“I should have something in the warehouse. I’ll see you at 5. Bye!” You hang up and turn around to find Si and Jackie entering.

“So, Phoebe is out of town but Kyra and Ines are coming.”, they say.

“Great! Aly’s coming with Belle and I asked her to bring us all matching robes. So that’s...6 ladies and Belle.” You quickly shoot Aly a text and turn to them.

“Okay, so we’ll need to set up an area, arrange everything and probably make some refreshments.”

“Ooh! I saw these really cute pizza bites on Insta yesterday! I’ll make those and lemonade...and then get out some snacks and make something sweet.”

“Si, that’s a lot. You sure you don’t need help?”

“Nope! I’ve got it!” She heads towards the kitchen, a bounce in her step.

“Okay, So we’ll set up in my room.” You start clearing up space in your huge room, layering blankets and pillows.

“Okay, so I’ll get out some towels, mirrors & bowls and you arrange them, Jackie.”

“She arranges them as she asks you, “You’ve done this before, you’re quite good.”

“I host most of the holidays and celebrations at home.” You open one of your cabinets, revealing boxes and shelfs full of beauty products.

“My god, Arielle! How much do you even have? No wonder your skin is so clear.”

You laugh. “There all my godfather’s secrets. His Indian heritage held so much information about natural skincare, and I’ve been interested since a very young age.” You pull everything out and arrange it on your bed.

“I mean I’m Indian too, but I don’t do any of this, but maybe I should. Wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of natural beauty.”

“...that’s everything! Let’s go help Sienna.” You both head to the kitchen, a mouthwatering smell wafting from it. After an hour full of prepping, the doorbell rings. You open it and a tiny but strong force collides with your legs. You look up to see Aly standing there, behind her Ines and Kyra.

“Aunt Arielle! Hi!!!”, she adorably says making everything laugh. You scoop her up into your arms and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey Aly!” She gives you a hug.

“Long time no see, Dr. Valentine.” You smile as you lead them inside. “Nice place.”, Aly says.

“Hey, Doc. You never told me you were famous, I mean the Alyssa Raines is your sister-in-law!” You all laugh.

“Well maybe I could have if you had stopped teasing me.”, you counter.

“Hey Arielle, are you feeling better now?”, Ines asks.

“I told you already that day itself, I’m fine. But thank you for asking!” You introduce everyone to everyone and lead them inside.

“Here Ari. I brought the robes you asked for.” Aly hands everyone the robes and everyone gets dressed.

You notice Jackie tense up when Belle walks near her. “She’s really sweet, Jackie. Just talk to her.”

“Hi! What’s your name?”, Belle asks.

“Jackie.”

“Ooh! That’s a really cool name.” You see Jackie’s eyes flash with surprise as she starts to warm up to her.

“So, why didn’t you get dressed like everyone else?”, Belle asks.

“Because I don’t like to wear them.”

“Aw! Why not! You would look really pretty! But you would look pretty in anything, like my mom and aunt.”, Belle responds. You see Jackie laugh as she leaves to go get changed. Soon everyone is changed and sitting on the makeshift area.

“Okay! Let’s get started! First, get into pairs.”, you say. Kyra picks you, as Aly and Jackie pair up. Sienna and Ines also pair up.

“I’ll help everyone with whatwever they need! Mommy has one, I forgot what they’re called.”, Belle says as you all laugh.

“They’re called an assistant, Belle.”

“As-ashis-...I’ll just help!”, Belle says as you all burst into laughter, again.

“She’s adorable Alyssa! How old is she?”, Ines asks.

“She turned 5 a few months ago. Although sometimes she can act like she’s much older, sometimes.”, Aly replies.

“Okay! We’ll start with hair, taking turns and later rinsing it off in the tub. Okay, so what kind of mask do you all want?”, you ask. After a short discussion, they each decide on a hair mask. You grab the bottle of your coconut hair mask for hydration for you & Kyra, a hibiscus one for hair fall for Si and Ines, and an almond and vitamin E for shine for Jackie and Aly. Everyone settles down and starts.

“You sure know a lot about this stuff.”, Kyra says as you massage the mask into her hair, placing a towel on her neck.

“It’s an interest of mine.”

“Well, if the doctor thing doesn’t work out, you can always turn into a spa worker. Although I’d have to find you a new nickname.”, she says.

“What nickname?”, you turn to see Jackie, Aly massaging her scalp.

“The female version of McDreamy!”, Kyra says. They all burst into giggles.

“Let’s play some music!”, Belle says.

“Great idea, Belle! Can you play some songs from my phone?” She unlocks your phone and plays the playlist you tell her to.

“Ines, there’s a speaker right beside you. Can you turn it on?” She turns it on and music starts blasting. Everyone starts singing but you keep quiet.

“Aunt Arielle, why aren’t you singing?”, Belle asks.

“That’s cause if she sings, we’ll all sounds like giraffes. No offence.”, Jackie says.

“Really, I’ve never heard you sing. If you can sing that well, then I’m making you sing one of Ariana’s songs.” She changes the song to “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande.

You start belting out the first few lines, as others start to join in. By the time you’re finished with the song, your voice is winded.”

“Damn girl, you’ve got pipes!”, Kyra says.

“Why, thank you.”, you say. All of you sing together as you finish up each other’s masks. “Is everyone done?” They all nod.

“Okay, now Jackie and Sienna, go to your bathtubs and fill them up with cold water. Then wash them with the shampoo and conditioner I’m giving you. Whoever did their mask first, wash your hair first.” You hand out all the respective soaps and towels to everyone, then lead Kyra to yours.

You plug the bathtub then turn on the water.

“Okay, So lean your head back after sitting on the stool.” She does as you say.

“So, I guess you’ve been doing this for a long time. I mean like taking care of your hair and skin.”

You nod. “I have. It’s something that my godfather taught me. My hair was always really long and thick, and I always loved taking care of it. Especially when I hit that teenage age, the tips he gave me are still so useful.”

“Oh! I remember when I hit mine, it was horrible. Braces, acne...”, she shudders.

You laugh, “Well look at you now. All done!”, you ring out her hair carefully and wrap it in a towel.

“Okay, now you sit down.” You sit down and flip your hair. She starts massaging and pouring water, cleansing your hair.

“Mmm...That feels good.”

“Your hair is so long! How do you even maintain it! I tried but my hair ended up looking like a bush by the time it got longer than my shoulders!”

“I’ve trained and took care of it from a very young age. My mother died when I was a baby, and my father always said that I always had my mother’s hair. I don’t know, it just feels right...like I’m making her proud when I do something for my hair or skin. I know that sounds silly.”

“It isn’t, it’s quite sweet. But it’s hard not having a mother.”

“It is. But luckily I was fortunate enough to have other amazing people in my life.” She wraps your head in a towel and you both head out to your room where you find the rest of the girls.

“All done?”, Si asks.

“Yep! Now it’s time for facials!” All of you spend hours pampering yourself, occasionally snacking and having a few flutes of champagne, giving Belle lemonade. By the time you’re all done with your facials, hair, nails... it’s around 8.

“Wait! I want to take a picture! Everyone pose!!” Everyone poses on your bed as Belle clicks a photo. You post it.

“I had so much fun! We should do this again sometime.”, Ines says. “Definitely! Next time, you’re all invited to my house.”, Aly says as Bella yawns. “Looks like someone’s sleepy.”

“Well I’m not! Does anyone have any plans for tonight?”, Jackie asks. Everyone shakes their head.

“Oh! What do you guys think of going out, to a club?!”, Kyra says. Everyone nods in agreement.

“I don’t know...I need someone to watch Belle..”, Aly says.

“I have the perfect person to watch Belle. Can you guys start cleaning this up?” You lead Aly outside.

“We’ll drop her later at Naveen’s.” You remember Ethan saying that he takes Naveen home to his apartment after his last shift.

“You two reconciled!? I’m so happy for you two! Finally, my favourite father-daughter duo is back together!” You laugh, careful not to spill anything about Naveen’s condition. “We did.” You enter your room. “Okay, that’s sorted out!”

“I didn’t bring anything to wear!”, Kyra exclaims.

“Neither did I!”, Ines agrees.

“Calm down! I’m right here and you people are worrying about club outfits! Hmm...what do guys say to a quick trip to one of Flair’s stores here? We’ll all pick out an outfit and I’ll get one of the stylists to do our makeup!”, Aly says as everyone cheers.

“Woo! Girls’ night, Girls’ night, Girls’ night!”, Sienna chants as everyone joins in.

“Okay! Let’s go!” After taking a cab to one of Flair’s branches, you all enter the huge ritzy store, Aly staying behind for a phone call.

“Arielle, what a pleasant surprise! Are you hear to model the new autumn lingerie collection?”, Sophie, Aly’s assistant and one of your friends.

“Not today, but I might come in later when I have time. So, my friends and I are hitting the town and we need the sexiest outfits! Aly’ll be here in a sec.”

“Awesome! I’ll go get everyone a stylist and you know about Flair’s collections so you tell the stylists for what line to look in.” She calls a bunch of stylists. You direct one for each person, “Okay, for Sienna, Ines and Kyra, the Sweet but Sexy line. Then for Jackie, Leather & Lace. For me...surprise me, Sophie. You know my style better than me.” Everyone heads off in different directions as Aly comes in with Belle.

“Let me guess, Ari wants you to pick her outfit?” All three of you laugh. “Okay, I’ll go find something. Belle, will you help me?”

“Ooh! Yeah, mommy! Aunt Arielle, wait for me, I want to pick your outfit too!” She skips off, Aly following her. “Okay, I might have just the thing for you.” Sophie leads me to a dressing room and tells me to wait there. You’re scrolling through your messages when your phone chimes with a new one from Naveen.

Sophie knocks and hands the dresses to you. You put them aside and reply. After texting, you quickly eye the dresses and try them on. After much deliberation, you pick two same dresses of different colours. “Ughh! I can’t decide!” Suddenly the door whips open, revealing Belle.

“I helped mommy pick out an outfit! Do you want any help?!”

You hold up the velvet dresses, one in baby pink and the other in wine red. “Which one is better, Amorina?”

“Uh...I like the red one cause you can wear matching red lipstick with it! You look really pwetty with red lipstick!”, she replies.

“Then, red it is! Can you wait outside for a minute?” She goes outside and you slip on the dress and half-coverage bra that Sophie gave you. Stepping outside, you ask her what she thinks.

“You look preeeeety!” You giggle.

“I’ll go do my makeup and then I’ll go drop you off. Guess who’s babysitting you?”, you ask. She shrugs.

“Grandpa Naveen is.” She cheers. “Now, do you want to help me in choosing some accessories?” She nods and runs off. “She has sooo much energy. I wish I had the energy of a 5 year old. My shifts would be much easier!”, you think as so run after her. You find Si and Ines standing there. “Hey!”

“You look beautiful!”, Ines exclaims. Si agrees.

“Thank you!” Just then Belle runs with something in her hand and hands it to you. It’s a gold, multi-layer body chain. “You really are your mother’s daughter! It’s beautiful!”

“Yay! Try it on, try it on!”, she exclaims. Si steps forward and helps you with the chain, securing it in place. You look in the mirror, it looks amazing.

“Ari, give me your phone!”, Si says.

“Why?”

“Cause you look really sexy right now and I’m not letting this photo op go to waste!” You laugh and give her your phone. She leads you to a plush white tufted bench and instructs you how to pose. “Okay, stay still and....Done!” She shows you the pic. “What do you think?”

“You took an amazing photo! I’ll post it.” You quickly post the sexy photo of yourself.

Just then Jackie and Aly saunter in, both wearing Leather & Lace. “I knew you two would get along!”, you say.

“Okay, Arielle. We’ll do your hair and makeup first so you can drop Belle off. By the time you come back, everyone will be ready.” They all usher into a chair as Si starts with your hair and Aly with makeup. They show you the mirror.

“Wow...I look...beautiful!”, you say surprised. Your hair has been let down in thick curls, parted to the side and sprayed with sparkly hairspray. Your makeup is simple but elegant, until the bright red lip.

“You’ve always been pretty.”, Aly says.

“Okay, I’ll go drop Belle off!”

“Wait! What about your shoes, earrings and jacket?...”, Si exclaims. She runs off, returning with matching gold tipped red velvet stilettos, gold hoop earrings and a bunch of rings and necklaces. Expertly placing them,she shoos you away.

“I’ll get a jacket later, come on Belle!” She runs up and holds your hand as you walk to the car. You place her in the backseat, fastening her seatbelt and you slip in the driver’s seat. “Can we leave, Belle?”

“Yeah! But I want music! Can you play something from Frozen, please?!” You nod, playing a Frozen playlist from your phone and connect to the car. Both of you sing the whole 15 minutes of driving. Pulling up, you lead her to the top floor. “Which door?”

“1204.” She runs up and knocks on the door, Frozen style. It takes you a while to catch up, because of those heels.

“...Do you want to build a snowman?!”

Ethan’s PoV:-

Hearing knocking and singing, you open the door to find an adorable 5 year old with a huge smile on her face. “You must be Belle. Who brought you here?”

“Aunt Arielle did! Where’s grandpa?!”, she asks.

“I’m right here! Come here and give me a hug!”, Naveen says. You smile as the girl runs into your mentor’s arms.

“Hey...sorry if this was last minute. I do know a lot of other babysitters but Naveen hasn’t seen her in a while.” You look up to see Arielle, wearing a wine red short dress, her hair let down in spiraling curls and her perfect lips painted red, leaving you trying to tear your eyes away.

“It’s fine. Come in, Naveen would want to see you.” She removes her heels and steps in.

“Sunshine, what a lovely surprise! You look beautiful!”

“Thank you. Belle picked out this dress.” She turns to Belle. “Now, be a good girl for Grandpa and Ethan, okay?”

“Mhm. I will! Byeee!” She kisses her on the cheek and turns to Naveen.

“Have fun, and please don’t exert yourself too much.” She gives him a hug and turns to you, slipping her heels on. “Thank you so much for looking after her. She doesn’t have any allergies or restrictions so there shouldn’t be any problem. She also loves dogs!”....She hesitates. “I’ll see you later.”, she heads to her car and drives away.

“Hi!! What’s your name?”

“My name is Ethan Ramsey.”

“Ohh! Aunt Arielle says your name a lot! She says that you’re very smart! Are you her boyfriend?!” You almost choke at that last bit.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate.”, you respond.

“Why not?!”, Belle asks.

“Because, I’m your aunt’s boss.”

“Ohhh! So you’re Aunt Arielle’s husband! She never told me though!” Your face is now beet red.

“Now what makes you think that, Belle?”, Naveen asks. You glare at him but he cuts you off.

“Well mommy says daddy’s name a lot. She also says that he’s very very smart. When they both first met, daddy was mommy’s boss. And now he’s mommy’s husband so that’s why I asked.”, she innocently says. “But I still don’t think they’re married!”, she says.

“Well Belle, what makes you think they’re not married?”, he asks.

“Naveen!” He gestures you to be quiet.

“Well, Aunt Arielle doesn’t have a ring like mommy and she doesn’t live with Uncle Ethan either. Also, Aunt Arielle would never have her wedding without me! She says I’m her favourite person in the world.”

“I think you’ve met your match, Ethan! Look how smart she is!”, Naveen says with a huge grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Are you hungry?”

“Nope! Let’s play! Will you play with me please!?” She gives you the same eyes Arielle gives you when she’s asking for something.

“Alright, do you like dogs?” Her face lights up, you can’t but help thinking about a certain intern. “Damnit Ramsey! Snap out of it!”

“You have a dog?!!! Can I see!?”, she shrieks. You lead her to your bedroom, where Jenner is lazily napping.

“Hey boy! Look who’s here. You have a new friend!” He perks up and goes near Belle, they suddenly run out of the room chasing each other and in the process, knocking down one of your lamps.

Naveen laughs. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full! Let’s see if one of the world’s best diagnosticians can handle a 5 year old for a night!”

You sigh, knowing this is going to be a long night.

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cordonia · 4 years

Photo

Ethan + MC: “Stick”

Summary: Ethan Ramsey has been in love, he’s just never been lovesick. Dr. Valentine didn’t show up for work and suddenly he’s feeling dizzy...

Inspired by Stick by BANKS

“Baby, you don't wanna leave You'd be sorry, 'cause honestly I can make you feel better, any day Look at what you've done for me, I called it how I see You belong with me”

Warnings: Brief mention of sexual content.

Word Count: 2000

“Ethan? You never take time off, what is wrong with you?” June Hirata appeared to be almost excited, but anything was good gossip when you were a neurologist. Every decision the team made was a deeper look into their brain, and that’s why Ethan could never tell her that she was a bit scary.

“I’m quite dizzy, I don’t feel right practicing medicine today. It’s best I rest at home to avoid making anything worse.”

“Dr. Valentine must be feeling the same way, today is the first time she called in.” How pointed of her. June didn’t waste time, even when she was playing games. He maybe respected her a bit for it, if it wasn’t involving him.

“I hadn’t realized,” lies, it was infiltrating his thoughts like a virus. “Have you checked in with her?”

June smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, instead she looked like she was doing a complex math problem with different answers.

He would never tell anyone he was intimidated by them, mostly because the feeling did not arise often. But June was good at her job, and trying to crack into his brain was one of her favourite pastimes. Anyone else would have thought that June had a bit of a crush, always digging into his personal life, but she had made it very clear she was too good for him.

She was, but again, never something he would tell her.

“Perhaps you should give her a call on your way home. She might require some medication, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

Ethan sighed, hoping it came off as an annoyed reaction to doing anything out of his way. But Dr. June Hirata just turned on her heels and walked away without another word.

Dr. Valentine was too good for him as well. Despite the circumstances of his career putting him ‘above her’, he knew that she would outgrow the entire team one day. She would definitely outgrow him, and the feelings that she reminded him of often. One day she would look at him and see him for who he really was; jaded and struggling to adapt to change.

It was silly, the things that he did to impress her. A social media account, bordering on favouritism when he took her for trips, and he even felt guilty for how badly he wanted her to win the competition. He wanted her on his team because she was a good doctor, but maybe a bit because her smile made him want to save lives a little bit more than usual. Maybe a lot.

Ethan loved his job but Valentine made him love it a bit more. It couldn’t be bad though, right? To love someone who challenged him to be a better doctor? Another thing he couldn’t tell anybody, not even her. And he wanted to tell her everything.

He got into his car without taking out his phone, put the keys in the ignition and began pulling out of the parking lot. He should have called, he should have checked in on her. It didn’t feel like his place, and how ridiculous it would be to call as if he had a right to know why she was home. Or even a right to care, for that matter. He had sworn off doing this to her, playing with her feelings and being misleading.

It would only hurt her more.

But what if she was hurt? The dizzy feeling began again and the nausea crept up on him. His hands clenched the wheel until he could barely feel them, but his eyes were still glued on the road. He was only a few streets away from her and he swore he could feel something pulling him to her. Ridiculous, as all feelings were. Especially whatever this one was.

He couldn’t just show up, right? But Ethan’s hands were turning the wheel, and suddenly three streets away became one. And then there he was, sitting outside of her apartment, where anybody could see. Her roommates were working, he’d seen them all that morning when he realized she wasn’t there.

He wasn’t going to get out of the car, and he still hadn’t reached for his phone. Ethan was trying to talk himself out of doing anything, going too far just because he was a bit worried. But...

He grabbed his phone and dialled her number, holding his breath as he waited for her to pick up. He wanted to hang up, regretting the impulsive decision immediately, but then she’d know how strange he was acting. The phone kept ringing and then reached her voicemail. He hung up, too embarrassed to leave a message in case his voice was shaky.

Why wasn’t she picking up? Was she oka--

A knock on the passenger window surprised him so much he jumped a little, his phone slipping from his hand and into his lap. Fuck.

“Ethan?” There she was, peering into his window with messy hair aglow from the sunny sky above them. Ethan swallowed and tried to compose himself, he was speechless for a change.

She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat next to him. Under any other circumstance, he would have laughed at the sight of her in fluffy pajama pants, but her tank top was it’s own distraction. She picked very inopportune times to be braless.

“Why are you outside my apartment? I called in super early, I promise I didn’t want to throw off your day.” She sounded concerned, which was slightly ironic, but he was starting to feel bad for bothering her.

“I’m sorry. I was... well I, I guess I was worried that you needed something.”

Her brows were furrowed and her gaze went from his face to his hands that were shaking slightly in his lap. Had he noticed that his hands were shaking? It was too late to stop it now.

“What would I need?”

He didn’t have a convincing answer to that. “Tylenol? Soup?”

She looked in the back seat, empty of course, and then looked even more confused. “You left your job of saving lives to what? Come make me soup in my own kitchen?”

“Of course not, I was on my way home and just thought that I would check in. We need you healthy and back at work, it doesn’t benefit our patients if you’re sick longer than needed.” Definitely the wrong thing to say to her, as formal as he wanted to be. He could see that she was starting to become annoyed already.

“I wouldn’t jeopardize the lives of our patients, Ethan. I can make my own soup, I’m not a chore. I just needed a day off.”

He loved how she said his name, even if it was meant to be patronizing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t word that quite right, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re important, Dr. Valentine.”

That seemed to catch her attention, and finally the annoyance dissipated; he felt relieved to see her shrug it off. “Thank you for checking in. I’ll be back tomorrow, it’s just not a good day. It’s the anniversary of the death of someone who was very close to me, and I thought I would be okay today... but,” she faltered and closed her mouth instead of finishing the sentence.

Suddenly the anxiety, the dizziness and stress on his muscles seemed to fade away. Empathy was not Ethan’s favourite feeling, but he couldn’t help but be flooded by it when she looked away from him to hide the shine in her eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry before, and it wasn’t something he would like watching.

He tried to change the subject. “Are those bunnies riding polar bears?”

Her gaze snapped back to him and she immediately grinned, blinking away the start of her tears. “My grandmother bought me these pajamas. I have no idea why the bunnies are riding polar bears, but they’re quite soft.”

His fingers instinctively twitched and he stopped himself from reaching out to touch the strange choice of lounge wear. She was always attentive of his movement, much like June was of his lies.

He was back to holding his breath again as she reached for his hand, pulling it to her. How was she always so warm and inviting?

“Touch them,” she said, a bit quieter.

He nodded and let his fingers graze the material over her thigh. She was right, it was soft, just like the rest of her... But those thoughts were better kept pushed to the back of his brain. He couldn’t think about the one night they had spent together...

“You’re starting to make me sick.” The words left his tongue quicker than he had anticipated, no time to find any eloquent way to express his thoughts.

“What?” She recoiled away from his touch and his eyes widened as his brain caught up.

“Lovesick,” he said even more quickly. “Rookie, I think you’ve been making me lovesick.”

“You’re telling me,” she whispered, shaking her head with a small smile upon her lips. “Do you ever think that if we hadn’t kissed, it wouldn’t have gotten this hard?”

He knew what the right answer was, the professional answer. And just as she probably had, he had run through every encounter with her in his head, a million times. Ethan had spent so much time wondering when he’d become so hung up on her, but he didn’t have a satisfying answer. She had been stuck inside of his heart for so long now that the love had left roots. How do you choose to uproot your love for somebody once it becomes a part of you like that?

She was waiting for a response that he didn’t have. Against his better judgement, his hand reached up to her face and caressed her cheek. Her eyes closed and her whole body relaxed. Was that all it took, one touch? Ethan didn’t always know his own power.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t take it back,” he said firmly, sure of that answer even if it wasn’t enough.

When she leaned in, he didn’t pull away like he knew he should have. Instead, he let her lips press against his so softly that it could have been his imagination.

His fingers became entangled in her hair as he gripped the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. Their lips met again and this time he let guard down, overwhelmed, his teeth catching her bottom lip. She moaned, just slightly and as her lips parted, his tongue brushed against hers. Nobody else could ever make the taste of mint toothpaste so inviting. Her nails dug into his arm and the slight sting of pain only led to a deeper kiss.

Ethan could imagine pulling her upstairs, taking off those ridiculous pajamas and kissing her until her knees could no longer keep her upright. He would have bent her off the kitchen counter, maybe the couch if they made it that far. And every time she said his name, he’d fuck her a little bit harder. Until they both couldn’t stand.

That’s what being in her presence was like most of the time. The slightest touch, accidental or stolen, put scenarios in his head like he was watching a film broken into so many parts. He could envision so many illicit encounters, but other things he craved too. Holding her hand in public, making dinner around her friends, and sharing a bed with her some nights.

She was probably considering the same scenarios, he caught the look in her eyes so many times and he knew how badly they both had it.

For a change, she was the one who pulled back first. “You’re supposed to be going home, Dr. Ramsey.”

So this was how she felt when so many times it was him who pulled away. Hungry and longing to push things just a little bit further... Perhaps not a little bit, but his brain was desperate to rationalize any chance to touch her.

Reality was cruel.

“I’m suddenly feeling a bit better, actually, I should go back to work and see what I can get done.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He nodded in response and she began to climb out of the car.

“Rookie? Call me if you ever need anything, even soup.”

She nodded and gave him a smile that he had noticed was reserved just for him. He hated that he noticed things like that, because June would too. Just like she would know something was off when he miraculously returned to work.

“Don’t have too much fun saving lives without me.” She winked and then headed back to the apartment.

“I won’t,” he said to himself, exasperated. He should have just called, but he was very, very glad he didn’t.

Tagging: @binny1985

#open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x reader #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey imagine #open heart imagine #open heart edit #my edit #my fanfic

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

Note

hey Steph! I wanted to know if you knew of any fics that dealt with the topic of consent, and very explicit consent, and not even necessarily for sex, but just, explicit consent and conversations of boundaries in a relationship. "hay can I kiss you? it's ok if I hold your hand? can I hold your hand when we're outside?" people talking boundaries, that type of thing... you know anything like that?

Hey Nonny!!

You know, I ABSOLUTELY KNOW that I do, but I didn’t have the foresight to pre-tag all of them as I read them, so I can’t give you ALL of the ones I have in my bookmarks, but I can definitely give you the fics I do have tagged with “Consent” or “Negotiation”, so I hope that’s okay!!

If any of my Lovelies have any that they remember or have their own fics, PLEASE add them!!

CONSENT AND RELATIONSHIP NEGOTIATION

Personal Space by probablyquantum (T, 1,814 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Cuddles, Nightmares, Awkwardness) – John and Sherlock renegotiate the rules governing personal space. Pre-Slash.

Husband by jinglebell (E, 2,003 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff, Toplock) – Sherlock orgasms when John refers to him as ‘husband’.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w., 1 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

Perfect Solo by Itsallfine (E, 2,384 w., 1 Ch., || PWP, Solo Kink, Fantasy, Pining, Dirty Talk, Sex Toys) – Sherlock couldn’t decide how he wanted to have John that night. (The one where Sherlock uses his box of sex toys to take himself apart in every way John might have him.)

Everything by patternofdefiance (E, 4,409 w., 1 Ch. || Snuggles and Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Vulnerable Sherlock) – John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock. This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong. Rather, it feels the exact opposite. Part 13 of I Blame Tumblr

Uninhibited by 221b_hound (M, 4,293 w., 1 Ch. || Bathing/Washing, Naked Cuddling, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Big Brother Mycroft, Relationship Negotiation, Massage, Sherlock Has a Low Libido, Pet Names) – Sherlock and John have been apart for the first time since Sherlock returned from the dead. Neither of them has had a good day. John’s gets worse when Mycroft comes to Baker Street in Sherlock’s absence to warn John Watson against disappointing his brother by expecting things to change. Mycroft has misjudged things rather badly. But finally he sods off and leaves John and Sherlock to reconnect, to give and receive comfort, and show each other that they are, indeed, perfectly matched. Part 15 of Unkissed

Beg for Mercy (Twice) by Solitary_Endeavor (E, 7,060 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Bottomlock, Bearded John, Edging, Rough Sex, Idiots in Love, Canon Compliant) – Sherlock hasn’t left the flat in four days, the itch of impatience beneath his skin too great to allow him to suffer interaction with any human being who isn’t John. This is probably a mercy that goes both ways, as he’s driving even himself mad. Sherlock supposes there is a lesson to be learned here about having himself to blame, but of course he blames Mycroft.

The doctor is in by PlainJane (E, 7,581 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Sex Therapist, Anal, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock is a young alpha with an aversion to his cycle. John is a gender medicine specialist. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Part 1 of Doctors and detectives

Caves in the Mountains Are Seldom Unoccupied by starrysummernights & TheMadKatter13 (E, 7,925 w., 1 Ch. || Were-Creatures, Werebear John, Pseudo Bestiality, Rimming, Dub Con, Rough Sex, Come Inflation / Eating, Size Kink, PWP, Bratty Sherlock, Rutting) – “This isn’t something to play at, Sherlock,” he snapped. “If it doesn’t work out- what you’re asking of me- we can’t shrug and say ‘oh well, at least we tried’. If we do this… I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand? I could lose control. I could… I could kill you.” (This one is… REALLY REALLY kinky, heavy dub-con warning)

Just Like That by sussexbound (E, 8,442 w., 1 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, French Kissing, Anal, Emotional Lovemaking, Enthusiastic Consent, Tenderness, Crying John, Bathing/Washing, Insecure John, Toplock) – John doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants. Oh dear god, how he wants. For the first time in what feels like years he WANTS.

Evening Ride by LapisLazuli (E, 8,632 w., 1 Ch. || Public Sex, Alternate First Meeting, Humiliation Kink, Groping, Frottage, Consent Issues, Come Play) – John has a series of unexpected meetings with a stranger on the Tube.

C. sapiens by patternofdefiance (E, 8,813 w., 1 Ch. || Tentacles Porn, Magical Realism, Bottomlock, Anal / Tentacle Sex, Pheremones) – “A few weeks ago I would have thought you were impossible,” Sherlock begins, walking into the kitchen in his blue robe, and John – not quite catching on – wants to scoff and argue, No, actually, you are impossible, but then Sherlock continues: “But now I’d say you are improbable.” John thinks this might be flattering, if he could wrap his head around it, but he can’t – Sherlock is standing near, steaming his sun-baked-clean-sand smell, like the beach after rain, an alive smell, an other smell. It’s intoxicating, and John has been studiously avoiding it, but he can’t shift away now it’s so near. Now Sherlock’s so near. And then Sherlock ruins the probable-loveliness of his words and the definite-beauty of his presence by saying: “And by ‘improbable’ I mean ‘not yet scientifically acknowledged.’” Part 1 of Gifts from the Sea

John Watson’s Moon by patternofdefiance (E, 11,314 w., 1 Ch. || Werewolf John, First Time, BAMF John, First Time, Anal, Fleeting Depictions of Violence) – Sherlock finds out John is a werewolf and wants to see the transformation. It, uh, gets really kinky.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world’s only consulting detective will be on his own once again…or will he?

Lacuna by coloredink (E, 15,607 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Consent Issues, Drama, Amnesia) – God, it must have been terrible, to think that he would never have this again.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It’s a lot less cracky than you’re probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w., 12 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary, Selective Mutism) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal, Autistic Sherlock) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John “Five Oceans” Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – “For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face.” Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate’s secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn’t he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock’s past as events conspire to threaten their future.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #consent #relationship negotiation #Anonymous

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writingsfromstarfleet · 4 years

Text

Weakness - Julian Bashir X Reader

A/N: Hello, this is a request for a very lovely Anon, so I hope you enjoy it whoever you are! And you lot too!

TW: slight mention of blood and some injuries to the reader.

'Be strong.' 'Be brave.' 'Don't show your weakness.'

Words that were drummed into your head from your childhood, you were raised with a family that believed that weaknesses were something you should eliminate, something nobody should know. As you grew up, you knew this was an old ideology, past its times, though it's hard to shake something taught to you all your life. You had decided to join Starfleet, and though you were excited for the fresh start, those words of your family echoed in your head constantly.

Since you'd arrived on Deep Space Nine, you'd found a friend in the doctor, Julian Bashir. Quite literally, the day you arrived, he found you sat by yourself in Quark's Bar and was quick to introduce himself. Very quick. A barely able to sit down kind of quick.

"Hello!" He had a very upbeat and cheery voice, he seemed very energetic. "You're new here, aren't you? The commander told us we had a new arrival, thought I'd say hello."

"Hello..." you trailed off, he hadn't given you a name in his excitement to talk to you. He laughed awkwardly and you flashed him a smile.

"Julian, sorry. Julian Bashir, I'm the medical officer here, as you might be able to tell" he gestured down to his blue uniform, you nodded in acknowledgement, a smile cast his way.

"Well, hello, Julian, it's nice to meet you, you're the first person I've spoken to today, I've not been here long."

"I hope I've made a good impression then" he smiled. You found yourself sat there for hours, chatting and getting to know one another. You'd found Julian to be pleasant, and very relaxed to be around; he had a lot to talk about, and you had the time to listen. A bond of sorts had been formed, and neither of you knew this meeting would turn into something bigger.

Seven months on, and both you and Julian had become far closer than either had expected, and closer than most people on the station. Not that either complained; Julian thought the world of you, and you felt the exact same. Every day, you'd meet up to spend a couple hours of your free time together, either going on walks, using Quark's holosuite, or even just chatting over a cup of raktajino. Anywhere was comfortable; as long as you were together, it didn't matter.

Though you were no stranger to away missions, Julian (if he wasn't going along) always gave you a briefing, always overly concerned that you wouldn't come back in one piece. Some may have found it to be annoying, but you thought it was sweet of him. You weren't used to the care you received from him, though it wasn't unwelcome, of course. But, your family had brought you up believing that love and care was in itself a weakness, and having it cast your way wasn't something you had ever had present. It was appreciated nonetheless.

"Julian, I'll be fine, it's just a small visit to this planet, nothing to worry about" you said, not unkindly, more in an attempt to calm him down somewhat.

"Nothing is ever 'nothing to worry about', you could injure yourself in an empty room, Y/N" he retorted, cocking one eyebrow up at you matter-of-factly. You couldn't help but laugh at the doctor, he was absolutely right. You were careful, at least you thought that, though your record in sick bay may prove otherwise. There was a small chance you held the record for being in the book more times than anyone else.

Landing down on the planet, you were accompanied by Major Kira, Lieutenant Dax and Constable Odo. A strong group for what was supposedly an uninhabited planet, but you wouldn't complain. You liked Kira and Jadzia a lot, you'd become good friends with them. Odo wasn't sociable much, though from the few conversations you had shared, he seemed very nice too. You began to scout for what you had come down here for when things took a turn.

A group of rogue Jem'Hadar began attacking your group, and you all did your best to fight them off, despite being caught off guard and being outnumbered. Faring well against them between the four of you, you had managed to fight them off. Turning to face Kira, you were about to speak when one remaining Jem'Hadar soldier fired a pistol your way, hitting you straight in the shoulder, just below your collarbone. Crying out in pain, you fell to the floor, Jadzia catching you as Odo made quick work of the solider.

Beaming back after a panicked Kira contacted the bridge, you clutched your arm and walked out of the transporter room almost as soon as you had arrived. The last thing you wanted was Julian, and you knew he was the medic that would arrive. It was his job, after all.

Julian arrived fast at the transporter room, and was met with three rough looking officers. He swore there should be four and immediately panicked.

"Julian," Jadzia started, seeing the look of dread on his face. "Y/N ran off the moment we beamed back. We don't know where, though."

"But why would.." he started, but was cut off by Major Kira.

"Y/N's hurt badly, we're all fine, just go."

Julian had never shot off so fast before, desperate for answers to more than one thing. His head was spinning as he ran through the halls towards your quarters, hoping you'd made pace for there. Upon arrival, he rang the bell for your quarters, and as he suspected, you didn't answer.

"Y/N, I know you're in there" he started, trying to maintain his professional calm voice, despite the worry for his best friend. "Please let me come in, you need medical attention."

To no avail, the door remained shut. Julian had just about enough of standing around while you were injured, and used his medical override on your door. It opened too slowly for his liking, and that's when he was met with you.

You were sat down against the wall, knees up by your chin, and your head resting on them. You had heard the door open, but didn't want to look up; you knew you would have t face the pity stare, and it was something you couldn't handle at that moment in time.

Julian approached you cautiously, though deep down he knew there was no reason to fear you. You wouldn't ever dream of harming him, though sometimes he did hesitate, and this was one such situation.

"Why did you run, Y/N?" Julian's voice was calm, collected and soft. No hint of anger, or pity, just curiosity and care. Staying entirely put, you found the voice to answer.

"Please leave." It was quiet, very quiet, and had there not been silence in the room, he would have missed it entirely. Kneeling down, he placed a hand on your knee, and one ran through your hair. Silently, this told you he wasn't going anywhere.

"Y/N.." he started. "Please, look at me, I'd really like to know what's wrong." His voice now was worried, less than the calm it was when he entered. You felt guilty; he cared so much and you were purposely making him panic. Slowly, with very little energy, you lifted your head and caught his eyes. Julian's eyes widened slightly, seeing just what the Jem'Hadar had done to you.

Your face was an off colour, slightly more so on the injured side, and you looked almost sickly. Blood from your shoulder has seeped right through your uniform and down your side, as well as smeared over most of the right side of your body. Whether you had damaged any of your ribs or bones remained to be seen. Julian thought it was a miracle you were even conscious. Never had he seen you look so defeated, and it broke his heart.

Beginning to get to the work at hand as you sat there, a silence surrounding you that was not uncomfortable, Julian tended to your injuries with the same gentle touch he always did. Not once had you ever felt unsafe with him, he handled everything you threw at him with love. Finally, once he was finished, and you were bandaged up, you spoke.

"Thank you, I'm sorry, I-" Julian cut you off with two raised hands in a stop motion. He sat next to you, placed an arm around your undamaged shoulder, and ran his hand through your hair.

"It's alright, I just want to know why you ran." Sitting up slightly, you explained.

"I didn't want you to see me injured, I was hoping that one of the other medical staff would have turned up. You haven't ever seen me like this, and I guess I was just scared you'd think different of me, like you'd think I was weak. I was taught as a child to never show your weakness, not even to those you're closest to, and I guess that's why I ran.." You couldn't even face him, knowing your words probably sounded silly. Your thoughts were confirmed as you felt him chuckle.

"My sweet, Y/N, you don't believe I would ever think such a thing, do you?" he began, suddenly getting a tad mores serious. "You are a warrior, you're strong and wonderful, and you're my best friend. Never would I ever think of you as anything less than that. Sustaining an injury isn't a weakness, it just means you did your job and that's something to be proud of."

Having gained the courage to look at him properly after his words had sunken in, you graced him with a smile, which was happily returned.

"There we go, my little fighter. Don't lose that smile."

"Thank you, I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes." You spoke more confidently than the last time, laughing along with him finally having come to your senses. Curling into his side, you two sat for a while, just enjoying each others company.

He may be annoying at times, and he may be a bit aloof, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't grateful for the man who'd thrown himself into your life. He was your best friend, and for that, you'd always be grateful.

#tw: blood #tw: injury #star trek imagine #star trek #star trek deep space nine #ds9 #deep space nine #julian bashir #julian bashir x reader #julian bashir imagine #x reader #imagine

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realmonsterboyhours · 4 years

Note

do any of the dons want kids? what if their significant other doesn’t want kids? i just discovered the dons and I am IN LOVE 😍

The conglomerate and children HCs Tw: Pregnancy/Children/Tokophobia

Love the question! We actually JUST got into this discussion the night you sent this so it was pretty funny timing! So, I polled the group as best I could and it seemed like most agreed that this is the basis of it. Again, please remember that these boys are sorta meant to be a “Make what you want of it” sorta deal. You want kids? That's baller, have at em. Kids make you uncomfortable? You can just assume they can’t have kids with humans, or at all <3.

My personal headcanon is that the boys can’t knock up humans unless something really strange happened. It would have to be a major accident to get knocked up by one, or you’d have to be part demon yourself. Others have mentioned they don’t think that the dons can do it at all, and some have mentioned that they can but it’s a by choice sort of deal. Zhuk

He wants kids and a family SO much more than the other dons seem to (at least outright). He never got to experience being a dad when he was alive, and he wishes he could have that experience, especially when he meets you.

If you don’t want kids: He’ll never push you. He’ll possibly talk about adoption if it’s just a fear of pregnancy and not an issue with children, but if you don’t like kids he won’t bring it up again. He knows that it’s just as much your choice as it would be his, so he’ll respect your choices and silently hope that one day you’ll change your mind.

He’s a worrywart he won’t even consider it possible until you have been checked over by as many doctors and medical professionals as he can get you in to. His size makes him a bit nervous, especially if you’re a smaller partner.

If/when you do end up pregnant if you tell him he’s fully sobbing, he’s like smiling ear to ear, he’s scooping you up into his arms, and he’s kissing you all over. He doesn’t stop that ear to ear grin for WEEKS and when he sees that bump forming he’s not gonna stop talking to it, not gonna stop touching it and you. He’ll spend nights up just watching you breathe and watching your tummy move.

If/when you go into labor he’s PANICKING, He’s got like 42 diaper bags all full, and he’s READY to go to the hospital if you’re going there. Though, Gio absolutely advises an at-home birth for a half-demon baby.

When you have the kid, you can expect him to be the dadliest dad to ever dad. He’s telling the kid jokes, he’s buying it a bunch of clothes, he’s overprotective, he’s super ingrained in every aspect of his kid’s life.

Gio

Nope! Nu uh, no way. He’s not even convinced he can have children, and if he could he wouldn’t be willing to risk it with someone he loves. He can’t imagine that a half eldritch horror monster kid would be gentle on your body and he won’t risk it.

If you don’t want kids? Great! No worries!

If you want kids, he’s open for discussion on adoption, but that’s about it. He’ll be a good dad once one is adopted, he just will be unsure at first because he’s mainly afraid of himself hurting you or the kid.

But once he falls into the rhythm of it all, he’ll be more confident with his kids, even if they’re not actually his.

Scarabee

He’s unsure of what he wants at best. He’s neither for, nor against having children, but it’s likely he would lean away from kids more than wanting them. His practice is so dangerous it’s not something he wants to bring a child into.

If you don’t want kids? Great he’s all fine with that.

If you want them he’ll be gunshy about it. Probably would need a lot of convincing to do so.

If you end up pregnant he’ll absolutely freak out when he finds out. He’s probably not gonna sleep for days, or weeks even. Is he gonna be a good dad? Is this baby going to kill you? What the hell is going to happen?!

He’ll feel like he’s walking on eggshells the entire pregnancy, then when you finally go into labor he’ll be by your side through the whole thing.

He sorta expects that feeling of “instant love” when he holds the baby but he feels more than just love, he also feels the weight of a million worries settle in on his shoulders and it’s likely he may isolate some to cope with it. It’s nothing against you or your kid, this is just so much more than anything he was expecting and it’s a lot for him to take in and absorb.

When he comes around he’ll be a very confused dad. He won’t be sure how to do anything, you’ll likely have to teach him everything. It’s not uncommon for him to dump the kid off into Zhuk’s arms because he needs a break quicker than the others would.

Over time he’d be a bit more confident, but your kids’ childhood would be far from perfect with Scarabee as a father.

Cia

I’m not entirely sure how Cia would feel. I see him mainly being confused about the idea.

If you don’t want a kid it’s no skin off his nose or anything.

If you end up pregnant he’s absolutely going to feel like he stepped into a twilight zone when you tell him. It’ll take a few for his brain to reconnect with his body but once it does he’ll soften up.

For him, it’s more about seeing you happy than it is, being a father himself. He just wants to be able to give you anything you want, and if this is what makes you happy, so be it.

When you go into labor he’s gonna flip his shit and probably sprint to wherever you’re having the baby in the estate. He’s running around the entire estate throwing up iron crosses in each corner to keep the fae out. He’s not about to lose a newborn half-demon child to some goddamn fairies, especially not HIS.

He makes it back just in time for the baby’s birth, and when he holds it he feels warm and happy. He’ll be soft, and his eyes will be even softer while he talks to your kid and he can’t stop his smile when he sees you holding your child.

He’d likely be surrounding your child in iron it’s whole childhood. He never lets them outside alone with the fae around the estate. The kid will have an okay childhood, but he’s teaching them about the fae and doing everything he can to keep that part of his life separate from the kid. It’s not uncommon for his clones to be babysitting the kid during the day just to be safe.

Bajo

So recently, Yan (the creator of this don) told us that he would likely want a big family and would want to have kids probably just as badly as Zhuk.

If you don’t want kids, like Zhuk he may offer up the idea of adoption, but if not he always can visit the orphanages they run to get time with kids and feel like a father figure enough.

If you do want kids he’s gonna be so excited. If you’re having kids you’re gonna be put on the best prenatal healthcare you could imagine. He’s taking you to a bunch of appointments, and he’s making sure you’re as healthy as possible.

I hope you want multiples because he’s gonna want a few, and I like to imagine he’s pretty good at making twins/multiples.

When you tell him you’re pregnant his eyes are going to fill with shock, and then fill with immediate blind happiness. He’s sweeping you up and kissing you all over. He’ll be super over-protective for a long time. He’s probably not even gonna let the other dons spend time alone with you because he just changes so much when you end up pregnant.

When you go into labor he thinks you’re just joking, until he realizes you’re serious and then he’s summoning ALL his clones to get everything ready, to let the others know whats going on and in general he’s just doing everything he can to keep you happy, healthy and safe.

He’s gonna be such a good dad, he’ll be loving playing with the kids, joking with them. You’ll absolutely see him out in the garden showing them plants and flowers or playing outside with them where he can. A kid raised by Bajo would end up likely really funny, and a bit chaotic, but totally worth it when you see it has dad’s dimples!

#hax hcs #The conglomerate #Zhuk #Gio #Scarabee #Bajo #Cia #pregnancy #tokophobia

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angryhausfrau-writes · 4 years

Text

Dammit, Amos, I’m a Botanist Not a Doctor

Prax's first aid skills are really not equipped to handle the kinds of injuries Amos keeps coming to him with. And he's getting pretty mad that Amos keeps needing that sort of medical attention. Wishes he'd start taking better care of himself. And in the middle of his lecture about Amos doing just that, feelings get revealed.

“You know that I'm a botanist and not a medical doctor, Amos. I don't know why you keep coming to me with this kind of thing.”

They're standing in the harsh lighting of the mechanic shop rather than the sterile med bay and Prax is peering dubiously at the cut on Amos's chest, a cotton swab with disinfectant held in his unsure hand. Exactly how Amos had gotten cut is a mystery – and a mystery that Prax doesn't really need to know the answer to, if he's being honest with himself.

After Jules-Pierre Mao, and Dr. Strickland, and everything surrounding Mei's rescue, he's more than aware of just what kind of man Amos Burton is. Just how far he's willing to go to protect those he's chosen to follow, to guard. And for whatever reason Prax and Mei have fallen into that “protect” category. And there's nothing Amos won't do to see them – and the rest of the kids – safe and shielded from any form of harm.

Including the protective form of harm Amos has been dishing out as the Roci crew attempts to eradicate any remaining pockets of Protomolecule left hidden away by Jules-Pierre Mao or Dr. Strickland and his scientists.

“It's cuz I trust you, doc,” Amos says, clapping a big, rough hand onto Prax's shoulder. “And it's just a little cut anyway – nothing to waste the autodoc on.”

That's not, strictly speaking, true. The cut's deep enough that Amos needs stitches – which he'd opted for over the cellular regen, for reasons known only to him. And it's a wound that falls right at the edge of Prax's limited first-aid skills.

But Amos has this way of looking at Prax – blunt and direct and so full of trust in him. It's almost frightening in its absoluteness. Prax never wants to see that look turn to distrust and betrayal. So this – Amos standing in the mechanical bay, stripped to the waist, while Prax patches him up - has turned into something of a ritual for them whenever Amos comes back from a mission.

And it is every time Amos comes back from a mission, Prax thinks as he starts disinfecting the cut. Because Amos will bodily put himself between his crew and harm every. Single. Time.

And it's a little bit infuriating and a lot concerning. But being infuriated is easier to concentrate on as Prax works to bring the broken edges of skin back together. He needs his hands steady and his head clear of worries about what if.

What if this is the last time they do this? What if Amos gets hurt too badly to fix next time? What if...?

So Prax thinks about how mad he is at Amos for dragging him away from his plants or his daughter or his reading to patch him up, over and over again. Because he has no regard for his own safety. His own worth.

“You should be more careful, Amos,” Prax says, an edge of steel to his voice as he pulls the needle through Amos's tender, breakable – oh, so breakable – skin. “You're not indestructible, you know.”

The point is underlined by Amos's sharp breath as Prax pulls the first stitch taught.

And he can't keep up the steely disapproval. Not in the face of Amos actually hurting. But he has gotten pretty good at gentle chastisement through his being a single parent to Mei. And heading an entire department of younger scientists. So.

“I know you like to go charging headfirst into danger, like to put yourself in the line of fire. Like to protect people. But you're human. Flesh and blood. And you can't – you've got to start being more careful, Amos.”

Prax runs his hand gently over Amos's chest, soothing Amos's flinching at the sting of the needle and steadying himself and making sure – to the best of his limited ability – that his stitches are even and won't scar.

“There are people who care if you come back, you know. Mei would be devastated to lose her new uncle. And the rest of the kids.”

A pause while Prax makes the next stitch. And thinks about his next words.

“And me too, Amos. I – I wouldn't have made it to Io without you. Wouldn't have found Mei without you. And I don't. I can't say what would have happened with Dr. Strickland without you there. But more than that, you're my best friend, Amos.”

That's not. That doesn't come close to describing how Prax feels about him. But it's all the words he can find right now – when he's scared and mad and so, so full of concern for the man who's standing there so still and patient and, and nonjudgmental under his clumsy attempts at doctoring.

“And I don't want to lose you because you were being reckless or, or not valuing just how important you are to us. To everyone on this ship.”

Prax makes another stitch. Almost done, now.

“But mostly, I don't want to lose our friendship. Is that selfish to say?”

Not that Amos has ever cared about things like that. It's one of the things Prax values about their friendship – with Amos, he doesn't need to apologize for how he is or what he feels. Amos takes it all with equanimity. Takes Prax as he is, even at his worst.

And true to form, Amos shrugs – broad chest shifting under Prax's hands.

“It's true, regardless. So you'd better start taking better care of yourself.”

Prax ties off the knot on his suture. It's not professional by any means, but it ought to hold. He wipes away the blood, and he can already see where Amos's flesh is purpling in vicious bruises along his ribs and he runs his fingers over the flesh, pressing in, testing for bruised or broken ribs.

“You'd better come back to me, Amos.”

There's a hitch of breath that doesn't come from Prax pressing at Amos's ribs. And, oh God. What is he saying? What has he done?

After that first gasp, it doesn't feel like Amos is even breathing, he's standing so still.

He's messed everything up, that's what. Messed up his friendship with Amos – as new and tenuous as the tender green shoots of the soja hispida growing in his room. And this. This has to be the end of everything between the two of them. Prax has gotten too clingy, too desperate sounding. And Amos won't want that, won't want his baggage, won't want to come to him for this anymore.

Prax wants to turn away in shame and misery, curl in on himself like the mimosa podica does when touched, so that he doesn't have to face Amos and his look of betrayal. But he finds whatever courage brought him from Ganymede to the Rocinante to Io in search of Mei, in search of vengeance if he couldn't find her, and he steels himself and looks up into Amos's face.

And Amos is looking back at him with such deep emotion, such blunt trust, such naked warmth, that Prax feels himself open up like a helianthus to the sun and before he knows what he's doing he's reached up and cupped Amos's bristled cheek in his hand. And when Amos presses into it, just barely, Prax kisses him.

It's soft and tentative and everything that Amos Burton isn't. So Prax isn't all that surprised when Amos cradles the back of his head in his big hand and pulls him closer, deepens the kiss, until Prax is drowning in it – couldn't think about anything else even if he wanted to.

Eventually, they break apart, Prax gasping for breath, overwhelmed. But Amos is there to hold him up, to keep hold of him, to guide him through this, too.

And Amos is smiling down at Prax, eyes still boring into Prax's soul.

“I was wondering when you'd get the picture, Prax. For a smart guy, you can be a little slow on the uptake.”

“What?” Prax gasps, still feeling breathless – though that probably doesn't have anything to do with lack of oxygen at this point. “What are you talking about?”

Amos laughs. “What, you really thought I had'ta strip half naked for you to patch up a bullet wound on my shoulder? Or this cut?”

And Prax lets his gaze trail down down down Amos's chest to where his jumpsuit is just barely clinging to his hips, riding low enough that Prax isn't even entirely sure he can call him clothed. And yes, Prax can see that it's all a little unnecessary for the kind of wounds he's been tending.

“You were coming on to me?”

Amos shrugs one shoulder. “Yep. Glad the interest's mutual – I thought maybe, but then you didn't do anything. So I'd kinda given up on it.”

“To be fair, I was a little preoccupied with finding my missing daughter at the time to realize that you were hitting on me.” But Prax can feel himself smiling as he says it. Because everything worked out ok and Mei is alive and here on the Rocinante with him and Amos is standing here, steady as a rock, patient, waiting for Prax to catch up with him.

“Well, she ain't missing anymore,” Amos says, matter of fact.

“So what now? We fall into bed together?”

Amos shrugs again. “If you wanna.”

Prax thinks about it for a second. But really, there's not that much to think about.

“Yeah, ok.”

And after, when they're laying together in Amos's bunk, sweaty and a little gross, and very, very happy, Amos turns to him and says, “You're my best friend, too, Prax.”

#the expanse #praxos

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urghost-andurboo · 3 years

Text

reflection on “objectivity,” oppression, and (lack of) social justice; from a white/queer/disabled social work student:

objective means “evidence-based,” but what academics mean when they say objective is:

“this is a fact, and you cannot challenge it without ___ (reading many badly-written sources, forming a written argument, getting funding for further research, doing said research, writing pages and pages, going through a perfectionist editing process, applying to be published and potentially being rejected multiple times, defending your work again and again)”

it is oppressive, i don’t have kinder words for it.

you can technically criticize any work and express your own point of view, but academics cannot, will not, and do not listen without the above work.

the people who science + academia makes decisions for are *not* the people who have access to academia.

black + brown people, people of color more broadly, immigrants, poor people, mentally ill / neurodivergent / disabled people, queer folks, the list goes on

these groups have less access to education and even less access to working *in* education and doing research, teaching, writing.

and these are also the groups most hurt by research and the idea of objectivity.

an objective world view, to an academic, is a broad overview of the world that encapsulates everyone’s experience. we can learn this truth, this objectivity, by studying it - through things we can physically see and touch and hear, interviews, surveys, recording measurements, making charts and graphs and using statistics. these pieces all fit together to form a puzzle, a complete view of the world that we know is correct because we saw it, we tested it, we studied it.

but this is false. objectivity, in this sense, does not exist. there is no way to hear everyone’s experience, see what people are thinking and feeling and doing, measure every part of the natural world, know everything there is to know about the human body. even if we could know these facts, the world is so vast that it would be so overwhelming that no one person or team could put it all together and understand it.

and, the idea that there is one truth, one way of thinking, one way of understanding the world is not only false, it is oppressive.

when people in power — scientists, academics, political figures, cops, medical doctors, educators — falsely believe that there is one truth, it opens the door for making decisions based on that truth.

these powerful figures falsely believe that they know what’s best for everyone because they “did the research!”

and that is not okay!

it is dehumanizing - literally disinviting many people from the conversation because they aren’t able to have a seat at the table

it doesn’t allow powerful figures to acknowledge mistakes - there is always a “reason” and a defense, a “let’s look into this and see what went wrong” mindset. decisions were based on fact not feeling, so there are no apologies, no immediate changes to help those who have been harmed.

and, the research does *not* take into account everyone’s point of view! “facts” as objective do not leave room for criticism, for responding to hurt, for predicting what kinds of hurt may result.

and, research will always lag behind the world.

the world is always moving and changing, things happen every day, and research cannot keep up with this. no matter how diligent they are, researchers are human, with limited time and resources and perspective. even with forward thinking and the best intentions, research takes an incredible amount of time and labor, and it’s hard! by the time a new problem is researched and published, so many people have already been hurting every day by this problem. it is not enough to research when people are living through pain and harm every day.

i don’t have a solution for this, i wish i did. i’ve been grappling with these ideas for years. i hoped that entering social work school, with my sensitivity and kindness and hopefulness, would add a helpful voice and solve some of the problems i’m seeing in the world.

but i don’t think that it does. i’m thinking about it compared to the police - the idea of all cops are bastards, there are no good cops, abuse and racism and violence are built into the system.

social work is not exactly the same, but i think a lot of it is similar. i am a social worker with so much self-knowledge and creativity and imagination, and i feel lost. i know that i have these good qualities, but i don’t think they are enough. i am not able to do a lot of the work, of reading and writing and speaking, because i am disabled. and if i cannot do the work, i can’t be a social worker. the system as it is now is not accessible to me. i want to help, i have gifts i know i can give, but i am going up against a huge, bureaucratic system with so many professional expectations that i cannot meet. just like all cops are bastards, if i were to be a working social worker, i would not be able to create change that is meaningful, long-lasting, broad, structural. my role would be so limited by time and finances and *what the agency i work at allows me to do.* the role of social work is ***incredibly*** limited. and, i think being in social work would also hurt me. i am sick and sad, and working every day face to face with others who are hurting so deeply, and not being able to help enough, is unimaginable. i feel so sad imagining it, i do not want that for myself.

and and and! social work exists within the exact same white supremacist, racist, oppressive culture that cops and politicians and capitalists do. social work is not anti-racist (at least not as a whole, not yet).

my experiences and thoughts are not valued in the social work world because i’m not able to communicate them in a way that academics understand and validate. at this point, i’m not able to change myself to fit. this means that... my voice doesn’t get heard. i’m not able to share my thoughts and ideas, my imagination and creativity. it doesn’t matter how creative and helpful my ideas are, if no one is listening.

i wish it were different. i am hoping one day it will be. but right now it is not, and though i don’t have a solution, i don’t think social work is the way forward.

general list of sources:

my lived experience with mental + physical illness, not being seen + heard by the institutions that have hurt me, or if i am heard, it taking months if not years to see changes

my experience being an autistic + adhd student: having a lot of thoughts and ideas, but lacking executive functions to write papers, and not being able to turn in other forms of creativity. also not being able to read many texts- they are often badly written so that i cannot understand them, and i was overwhelmed with the workload so that i didn’t have time to slowly digest. i was very overstimulated and anxious during my education, needed more breaks and time to rest but needed to be in school in some capacity for financial stability

my experience as an anthropology major in college- we often talked in class about the idea of objectivity, how it is impossible to achieve, and how power is reinforced through the lens of objectivity

the “critique of liberalism” from critical race theory - basically the idea that change through academics and politics takes too long. it is a slow process, and while the process happens, people are still being hurt. there needs to be change *now,* not when the research is published

fact i learned in class last year in social work school: it takes 15-20 years for social research to be implemented in the field

the idea of “one right way,” from a source about white supremacy culture. i don’t understand this text/idea completely, but my current understanding is that people in power usually understand that there is one right way to do things, and won’t consider/imagine/implement other ways of doing them. think about the persistence of capitalism, colonialism, war, bureaucracy, police, the legal system, prisons, electoral politics — we can see the harm they cause, but those in power will not give up their power to try alternatives

generally observing, thinking, reflecting on conversations i’ve had/witnessed about systemic oppression. understanding that many oppressed peoples are not given the time or space, or are too traumatized/hurt/in pain, to express what is going on for them. thinking about how even when oppressed people do express these feelings, they are often unheard because dominant groups are angry and defensive, hostile. and even with the best intentions, how can we help, if we can’t understand?

#social work #words #reflection #racism #white supremacy #anti racism

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Text

Saeyoung + Unknown W/ an MC who suffered from Child Abuse.

TW: Child Abuse, CSA

It had not been easy for you to talk about what had happened to you when you were a child. As a matter of fact, you refused to bring it up and you would only talk about it if it was somebody that you could sincerely trust on the matter and even then it was not okay for you mention. The memories and scars were still fresh on your mind as if they had happened yesterday. It took a lot of effort for you to put yourself out there and you had finally decided that you were going to go out there and start working on yourself.

You were going to start small at first, working your way into therapy and working on everything piece by piece until you felt like you were ready to talk about the worst of it. It was going to work, you thought. You knew that you could try your best to put on your brave face and be honest with yourself.

Settling into your first session, you thought you had found a great professional to speak to and since this was your first time in a long time talking to someone else about your life, you were a little uneasy, but trying to seem confident enough to them that you could keep your wits about you.

You had your hands on your lap and you were trying to ignore the ticking of the clock in the back of the room as they read through some of your paperwork and files.

It seemed like everything was going to go well, and that they were just double checking your information so they knew what you may want to talk about first since you had labeled it in your paperwork that your anxiety was mainly what you wanted to touch on.

“...”

Suddenly, they looked up from their notes. “Yes, now, I see here that you’ve put down your difficulties as of late. I appreciate that, but I am concerned, however, that you did not label a few things in these notes. I can tell just from looking at you that this kind of difficulty only plagues people who were victims of sexual assault in their childhood.”

Your body stiffened, and your eyes went wide at that mention. “I...” you trailed off, a pit forming in your chest.

Was it obvious?

How was it obvious? Could someone just look at you and know that you had been abused like that? Had people been able to see it all these years? Is that why people pitied you or tolerated you? Your mind began to swirl with unease and dread.

They did not seem to care about your unease, “It’s better to be clear with the medical staff everything you’ve gone through in life. How can you get better if you don’t address what happened? Let’s start from where it all began for you, shall we, Y/N? When was the first time someone touched you?”

That was what broke the camel’s back for you.

It was that question that sent you into a blurry haze of panic and by the time that you came out of it, your eyes were hot with tears and you had left as quickly as you could muster the energy to get out there. Your head was heavy with all sorts of thoughts that you couldn’t stop.

Saeyoung

You had called Seven, rather quickly.

He knew that something was wrong by the tone of your voice and how hard it was for you to explain what was wrong. He dropped everything that he was doing and came to your side as fast as he could. Saeyoung sat with you for a long time as you tried to shake off your fear that had welled up inside of you. It didn’t take much for those memories to come flooding back to the surface and when they did come for you...

It was hard to get away from them no matter how hard you tried. Your skin would crawl and you would feel sick for hours. You wouldn’t be able to close your eyes for very long as a flashback could very well take you underneath the water and it’s surface.

He comforted you for the rest of the afternoon. He never pressed you to talk about what happened but you knew that he would want to know eventually what had scared you so much. By late evening, most of of the worst of the storm had passed by. Saeyoung asked how you were feeling after you woke up from a nap in bed.

So, you started at this man that you loved so very much and you came clean with him about what had happened to you that afternoon.

He knew that you had really suffered as a kid but he never knew how badly it had been. It sickened him that someone hurt an angel as sweet as you, and his first thought was how badly he wanted to destroy whoever put their hands on you. He would not say those thoughts out loud but if you could have seen how much he seethed as you cried in his embrace, you wouldn’t have had to hear him speak those words.

“Y/N.”

“...”

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, gently running his fingers against the back of your head as you leaned into his embrace. “None of this is your fault. You’re a good person and you did nothing wrong. You wanted help and someone clearly took advantage of their power to torment others instead of helping them. I’m sorry this happened today... but it’s okay to be okay, I promise. I’m not leaving your side tonight.”

You clutched at the back of his shirt even tighter.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll protect you. I know you’re feeling really scared right now but you’re here with me. You’re not back in the past and you’re not being hurt anymore. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again, Y/N.”

Unknown

Needless to say that day, when you came back to see Unknown, and you were in a desperately distraught state.

He wasn’t used to seeing other people like this, no, that wasn’t right to say this time around. He knew what it was like to see people crying or pleading for mercy but what he did not know was how to deal with a person who was crying silently and would not say a damn thing to him. He was at a loss at what to do to help you. He needed his assistant to be in great shape but it was kind of hard to focus on his tasks when you were clearly in shock.

Unknown didn’t know how to approach it.

Yet, there was a pang inside of his chest whenever he thought that he should just leave you alone. You sure as hell never left him alone when he woke up in the dead of night with terrors and screams about his own childhood. You even held your ground when the elixir had driven him to a point of heated tears and frustration. You always helped him.

Ugh, it wasn’t like he liked you or anything but the sound of your pitiful sobs made it hard for him to work. He turned his attention to you and quietly sat down next to you as your arms folded in around yourself. He didn’t say anything to you at first.

You didn’t say anything back to him either, for that matter.

It was a stalemate of sorts before Unknown looked at you with those mysterious eyes of his. “Look, I don’t know what the hell happened out there, but you should tell me about what made you so upset. I’m your boss, I’m in charge of you, good or bad. I can’t get any work done on this project if you’re wallowing like this so we are going to sit here until you want to tell me what happened to you.”

His tone is gruff and his voice is tough. There’s no denying that this man could care less about the rest of the world around him but there was something in his voice at times like this when you were vulnerable that he showed you a side of himself that nobody else would believe existed.

So, you shut your eyes and told him about what had happened to you. Unknown knew that you had a troubled past, a lot like his, it had been in your files when he was choosing you. He didn’t know how fucked up it was or wasn’t, he didn’t dig that far into it after he realized that it sounded a lot like his childhood. He was rightly pissed the fuck off that someone had hurt you.

Oh, the things that he would do to the people that made his prince(ss) cry this horribly. In a rare showing of kindness, he wrapped his arms around you and just told you let it out. If you had to cry, then he was giving you a pass this time to let it all out.

“Listen, prince(ss), you’re in paradise now. The outside world is a fucking mess and as long as you’re with me, I’m never going to let anybody else hurt you from now on. You’re my assistant, you’re mine. As long as you’re mine that means that not a damn person is ever going to touch you again. I’m going to ensure you’re safe here. So, don’t you dare let another person upset you when I’m crush the head of anyone who makes you cry again. Got it? I’m not going to repeat myself.”

He may have been crass but he meant well, in his own way.

#child abuse tw #csa tw #anon #mod kait #mystic messenger #mysme #saeran choi #choi saeran #unknown #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung

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saikostories · 4 years

Text

MHA - Take a Break

In which quirks do not exist, and Midoriya is a professional boxer (Tododeku)

Shouto shouldn’t have been surprised when he heard the loud thumping of the punching bag from the room down the hall. This had been happening all week long.

He wasn’t usually here this late at night but he knows that the gym is normally empty by now. He had lost track of time while practicing in the dance studio, too wrapped up in his routine. It wasn’t until he left to fill up his water bottle that he saw the light on in the boxing ring down the hallway. He crept over to the entrance quietly trying not to draw any attention to himself. When he peeked in the room, he saw Midoriya Izuku there in the ring alone, going at it with the punching bag. He was wearing a black tank top and some muted green boxing shorts. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, coving his face.

Shouto had always loved watching Izuku fight. Izuku was a brilliant in the ring. His movements were quick and the way he swayed around the ring made it seem like he was dancing. There was beauty in his violence and every punch thrown was full of power. He didn’t seem like a fighter at first glance. His soft smile, and his bright, kind eyes gave off the impression that he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.

Or at least, that’s was Shouto thought at first. Oh, how wrong he turned out to be.

Izuku wasn’t just good at fighting, he was fantastic. Of course, Izuku always says he used to be terrible. He says he was beat all the time as a kid but Shouto has a hard time believing that whenever he watches him in a fight. The boxer claimed that it wasn’t until he started training under his coach Yagi Toshinori that he started getting good. He practiced almost everyday at the gym with some of his buddies, Kirishima, Jirou, Kaminari and Iida. They were all almost equally matched. Every fight Shouto had watched he wasn’t sure who was gonna win, especially when it came to Izuku and Kirishima. These last few months Izuku has been doing really good. He was working hard and it was clearly paying off. He seemed to be pulling ahead of everyone and sometimes he would even come out a match with only a few bruises.

Recently though, he began falling behind. He was taking more hits than usual, he was getting knocked down a lot easier and he didn’t seem as quick. Each fight he came out a little more beat up than he should be. Everyone could tell too. Kirishima tried talking to him about it, but Izuku just brushed it off and said he was “just a little tired today.” or he assured them, “It’s okay! I’ll be back on my A game before you know it!” followed by his bright smile.

That bright smile didn’t seem to bright lately.

He’d been staying pretty late these past two weeks, and Shouto was starting to get really worried.

Looking at him now, in the boxing ring alone with a punching bag, Shouto could tell his movements were unusually sluggish. The thumping of Izuku’s fist hitting the bag filled the room.

Shouto felt like he should step in, but he wasn’t sure if it was even his place. He had never seen Izuku like this before. It was like he was seeing something no one was supposed to, something private. He was angrily throwing hard punches. They were wild and they weren’t good either. They were all force and no precision. Izuku must have known this too, because after throwing a particularly harsh punch he yelled out loud in frustration. It came out more like a strangled sob and his hands slowly slid down from the bag and to his sides.

Then he just stood there in silence and the only sound in the room was the creaking of the punching bag still swinging back and forth, and the short uneven sound of Izuku’s breathing. He slowly took off his gloves and sunk to his knees on the ring floor.

It wasn’t until he brushed his sweaty hair out of his face that Shouto got a better look at him and he could tell he looked absolutely terrible. He was obviously exhausted, the bags under his eyes were dark and his breathing seemed uneven.

And, oh. Izuku was bleeding and he was bleeding pretty badly.

“Midoriya...?”

Izuku jumped at the sound of his voice and frantically looked up while trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“H-hey, how long have you been here...?” Izuku asked, voice hoarse.

“Long enough.” Shouto said as he slowly approached. “You’re bleeding.”

“Haha yeah.” Almost as if on cue he spit out some blood that got in his mouth from the cut on his upper lip. He looked back up and tried to give Shouto a small smile but it looked... wrong. “It was an accident. I wasn’t paying attention when Kirishima and I were at it earlier. He offered to help me but I told him I’d be fine. Just a little cut, nothing I can’t handle.”

It can’t have been too long ago, Shouto thinks, since he’s still bleeding.

“Come with me.” Shouto says as he extends his hand to Izuku, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Izuku hesitates, but then he half heartedly smiles and takes Shouto’s hand. After standing up, Izuku suddenly raises a hand to his forehead wincing and Shouto can tell the boxer must have gotten light headed from standing up so quickly. He gently places his own hand on Izuku’s shoulder to steady him before he can even think twice about it.

The two of them walk, or rather limp, out of the empty ring and down the hall over to the bathroom near the dance studio. They walk in a comfortable silence, Shouto’s hand still on Izuku’s shoulder. He turns on the sink, soaks a rag and begins to clean up Izuku’s bloody nose and the deep cut on his lip. He does what he can for the black eye but unfortunately he can’t do much until they get some ice.

“Why are you pushing yourself so hard?” Shouto says bluntly but there’s still a hint of worry in his voice.

Izuku seems taken aback by this, but he doesn’t look up to meet Shouto’s eyes.

“I have to. I’m falling behind.”

Shouto has a feeling that isn’t the whole truth.

“Midoriya, you aren’t falling behind you’re just-“

“But I am.” Izuku cuts him off sharply but suddenly his expression softens, “Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s alright. I get it. But you have to take care of yourself. It’s alright to push yourself but pushing yourself this hard is what’s causing you to fall behind.” Shouto frowns, “You’re hurt, and you’re tired and I hate seeing you like this.”

Izuku closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his head on Shouto’s shoulder, “You’re right. You’re always right.”

“Not always,” Shouto says, leaning into the touch.

Izuku opens his eyes and looks down at his hands which are bruised and wrapped in medical tape. “I’m just scared.” He says suddenly very very quiet.

Shouto frowns even more, “Of what?”

“Toshinori. He’s getting really sick again and I’m just so afraid I’m gonna loose him.” Izuku whispers. His hands are shaking now, Shouto can feel it.

“Oh Midoriya.” Shouto sighs. It suddenly all adds up. His sudden slump, his sudden need to throw himself into work. It’s so like him. Izuku has always been a hard worker. It just makes sense that that’s exactly what he’d do in a stressful situation. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he sniffs, “not mine either. I just, don’t know what to do you know? I feel so helpless all the time when it comes to this. Sometimes it feels like the only way to unleash all these feelings is that stupid punching bag.”

Shouto only hums in response. He knows how much Izuku’s coach means to him. He wonders how long the green haired boy had been bottling up all these feeling.

“You’re so strong, you know that?” Shouto says to him. “I really don’t know how you do it.”

That earns a laugh from Izuku and it makes Shouto feel a little bit better. Izuku slowly lifts up his head and smiles back at him.

“You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you.” Izuku says and it’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Always.”

“I really like you Todoroki.” Izuku says sheepishly looking down at his hands again.

“I really like you too Midoriya.”

“No I mean, I really like you.”

Oh.

Shouto’s heart stops in it’s tracks and he feels his face heat up. “I’m glad to hear that. Because I really like you too.”

Izuku let’s out a breath he must have been holding and he nervously laughs running his bandages hand through his sweaty hair.

“Can I kiss you?” Todoroki asks gently.

“Please.” Izuku wheezes and just like that their lips meet.

It’s slow and delicate and Shouto can taste Izuku’s blood from the cut on his lip. His hand gently cups Izuku’s face and Izuku’s calloused, bandaged hands meet them there.

They break apart and touch foreheads and Izuku starts to chuckle.

“What?” Shouto asks smiling.

“Nothing I just,” he looks up and his eyes are bright but still filled with tears, “I’m just really really happy I met you Todoroki Shouto.”

Shouto smiles and asks, “Can I finish fixing your face?” while raising the bloody rag that was abandoned on the counter.

Izuku laughs, “Yes do what you must.”

—

Shouto walks him home that night. Partly because he wants to make sure he makes it there alright and partly because he doesn’t want to leave him yet. It’s lightly snowing in the city and Izuku stays close to him, their hands linked for warmth. When they get to Izuku’s apartment the two of them stop at the front door.

“Why don’t you stay tonight? I wouldn’t want you to walk alone all the way home in the cold.” Izuku says softly.

“Sure.” Shouto squeezes Izuku’s hand tightly. “You’ll probably need help getting up the stairs anyway.”

Izuku laughs at that and the two of them enter the building, stomping off the snow from their shoes on the rug on the floor.

Shouto wishes that things could stay like this. He wishes that he could take away all of Izuku’s troubles and keep that kind, bright smile on his face, but he knows it won’t last. However, Shouto makes a vow in that moment, to stay by Izuku’s side no matter what.

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melacka · 4 years

Note

BRACE + CLOTH + Lizzington? Please and thank you!

Hello there! It may take me some time but I got there! Thank you for the prompt!

‘i love you’ prompts

You can read the fic on AO3 here or keep reading below.

Title: A Helping Hand by Melacka

Summary: Red summons Liz to help him deal with some minor wounds he has sustained. Unfortunately he can't remember where, when or how he sustained said wounds. Liz is not best pleased.

Red regained consciousness slowly. He was aware of some pain somewhere in his body, but it was like he was experiencing it from a distance. Almost like a memory of pain he’d felt before. But that didn’t matter. He’d been having a nice dream and he wasn’t quite ready to let go of it yet.

“Red?”

He smiled. Lizzy was here.

“Red can you hear me?”

He always liked the dreams with Lizzy in them, especially when she was happy to be with him.

“Come on, Raymond, wake up for me.”

Lizzy sounded concerned. About him. That wasn’t right. He furrowed his brow, straining to understand what was going on.

“That’s it, you can do it,” she said gently. “Come back to me, now.”

“Lizzy?” he croaked.

“Yes, it’s me.”

He felt a hand at his forehead, and he leaned into the touch, grateful for its coolness against his skin.

“Red, do you know what happened?”

“When?”

“I don’t know,” Lizzy said, sounding concerned again. “You sent me a message about an hour ago, asking my to come to your Bethesda apartment.”

Red nodded. This was perfectly understandable. He often wanted her to be with him.

“When I got here, you wouldn’t open the door. I called your phone and could hear it ringing inside. I called Dembe and he said he was out of town, something about completing a business deal for you.”

Red finally managed to open his eyes and the Lizzy’s face swam into view.

“Lizzy,” he breathed, pleased to see her. “You’re here.”

“Yes, I’m here,” she said impatiently. “Dembe seemed to think that you wouldn’t have been doing anything that would cause concern.”

“Of course not.”

“So, imagine my surprise when I came in to find you collapsed on the floor.”

“Collapsed?” Red repeated, disoriented. “On the floor?”

“Yes! I had to break in, Red, I was really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry to have worried you, Lizzy,” he mumbled.

“I’d rather you worry me and let me help you than the alternative.”

He smiled at her happily.

“I don’t know what you have to smile about, Reddington,” she huffed. “You were bleeding pretty badly when I got here and I’m worried that you’re developing a fever. You won’t let me take you to the hospital, will you?”

Red tried to wave a careless hand to demonstrate how unconcerned he was, but his hand felt heavier than usual. He stared at it, baffled at the sudden difficulty.

“Try not to move too much, Red,” Liz said gently. “At least not until I take care of your wounds.”

“Wounds?” Red asked, confused. “I’m wounded?”

“Yes,” she said patiently. “I was able to get you off the floor, but I still don’t know how long you were down or how exactly you ended up there. We may need to call in your medical team anyway.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Lizzy looked adorably concerned and Red felt his heart flutter slightly in his chest.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” she whispered, her hand lingering against his cheek. “What if I hadn’t come by? What if I couldn’t get in?”

“Well that doesn’t matter, Lizzy,” Red said dismissively, struggling to sit up and grunting with the effort. “I did call you and you were able to get in. It seems that I can always count on your ability to enter my place of residence, whether I open the door to you or not.”

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or—”

“You should,” he interrupted her. “You definitely should take it as a compliment. It’s a very useful skill to have.”

“Please, just stay put,” she said, putting both her hands on his shoulders and pressing him back against the chair. “I’m going to get your first aid kit. Is it still in the bathroom?”

“I’ll come with you,” Red said, trying to stand up and in the process nearly knocking them both off their feet.

“Whoa!” Liz said, slipping her arms around his waist in an attempt to hold him steady. “You can come with me if you promise to let me help you. Can you do that?”

“I don’t need help, Lizzy, I’m quite alright.”

Liz raised an eyebrow and removed her arms from around him, taking a step back from him. He wobbled and she shook her head at him, sighing deeply.

“You can keep arguing if you want to, Red, but I hardly think you’re in any condition to resist me.”

She slipped an arm around his waist and flung one of his arms over her shoulder.

“I’m never in any condition to resist you, Lizzy,” he murmured, turning his face so he could smell her hair.

“Right,” she grunted. “You’re going to be so embarrassed by all this tomorrow. Alright, let’s go.”

They began an awkward lurch across the apartment. Red frowned in concentration, finally able to pinpoint one of the mysterious sources of pain.

“I think I may have a sprained ankle,” he said in wonder. “How on earth did that happen?”

“Do you really not remember what happened to you?” Liz asked breathlessly, propping him carefully against the doorframe to the bathroom.

“I went out to meet an associate for dinner,” Red said carefully. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Her?” Liz said stiffly, switching the light on and drawing him into the room. “Lovers quarrel?”

“Hardly,” he grunted, lowering himself gingerly to sit on the closed toilet lid. “We were never lovers, but we would work together occasionally. She is pleasant company, Lizzy, nothing more.”

“Makes no difference to me, Reddington,” she lied unconvincingly, rummaging through his first aid supplies. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened to you. A graze on your head, what looks like a knife wound in your shoulder and a possible twisted ankle. Whatever happened tonight, it wasn’t just dinner with an old associate. Could she have done this, do you think?”

“I doubt she’d care enough about me to hurt me like this,” Red said tiredly. “Although I am at something of a loss to explain it otherwise.”

“Hmm,” Liz said absently as she started to clean the graze on his head. He winced and she quirked an apologetic smile. “Does it sting? Here, let me try this.”

She started to blow gently on the wound, holding his chin in her hand. He stared at her, mouth hanging open stupidly.

“Better?” she asked, her face very close to his.

Her eyes were so blue. Had he ever been this close to her before?

“Much,” he croaked.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips briefly and she moistened her lips quickly. Then she seemed to get a grip on herself, shaking her head as if to clear it and stepping back to put more space between them.

“Uh,” she said awkwardly. “I’m going to need you to take your clothes off.”

“What? All of them?” he said teasingly, trying to put her at ease.

“If you prefer,” she said coolly. “But I really only need your shirt off.” She considered him in silence and then grinned, saying, “Possibly your pants.”

He smiled fondly at her and would have stripped immediately, just to fluster her, if he hadn’t been a little concerned that he would fall over if he tried.

“Of course, Lizzy, whatever you need,” he said graciously. “I put myself entirely in your hands.”

“Well, that sounds promising!”

He let out a loud laugh and said, “You’re in quite a mood this evening, Lizzy!”

She shrugged and carefully applied a dressing to his head, smoothing it out gently and taping it in place.

“I’m just happy I could help, Red. It’s not often I get to help you with anything other than Blacklisters.” She knelt down and started to undo the laces on his shoes. “And having you at my mercy kind of sweetens the deal, if I’m being honest.” She pulled his shoes off and examined his ankles carefully, picking up first one foot and then the other. “Probably not sprained but your left ankle is a little swollen. Could you have twisted it?”

“Lizzy, I could have done anything to it,” Red said in exasperation. “I have no memory of how I got in this state.”

“I don’t think it needs to be bandaged, but I can do it if you’re worried.” She sat back on her heels and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Or you can just take it easy tonight and see how you feel in the morning?”

“Does that mean you won’t be removing my pants?”

She bit her lip and looked down coyly.

“Play your cards right,” she murmured, her hands tracing teasing patterns on his thighs. “It could still happen.”

“Oh?” he breathed.

He couldn’t say anything more articulate than that, he was too busy focusing on the little thrill of pleasure he got with every movement of her fingers.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Just let me injure you somehow, those pants will come right off.”

“Such compassion, Lizzy,” he said dryly.

“I am here on a mercy mission, Red. I wouldn’t want to leave any injuries untended. Speaking of which,” she switched modes abruptly, going back to brisk professionalism, “I need to do something about that wound you have in your shoulder.”

Red submitted to her care without further comment, trying not to wince too much as she removed his shirt. He could tell that she was trying to be gentle, but there was only so much she could do. He was more beat up than he cared to admit. Truth be told, he was starting to feel a little dizzy, but he didn’t want to worry her. Within moments, the wound on his shoulder was cleaned and a fresh dressing was applied to it.

“Done!” Liz said with satisfaction. “Can I help you get to bed?”

“I can manage,” he said, not entirely sure that he could.

“Oh, really?” she scoffed. “Come on, then. Prove it.”

“Scepticism does not suit you, Elizabeth.”

“I happen to disagree, but that’s not the point. Come on, show me how well you can get yourself to bed.”

“Lizzy,” he whined pathetically. “Must you gloat?”

“On this occasion? Yes, I must.”

They glared at each other for a minute before Red sighed, conceding defeat with very little grace.

“Would you be so good as to assist me, Elizabeth?”

She grinned slightly in triumph.

“It would be a pleasure, Raymond.”

He tried not to show the effect it had on him when she called him Raymond. He had the awful feeling that she already knew and that she did it on purpose.

Clever girl.

She stepped forward and put both arms around him, supporting him as he stood up slowly. Then they resumed their earlier position, with his arm slung over her shoulder and her arm firmly around his waist.

“Try not to put too much weight on your sore ankle,” Liz said as the limped awkwardly through the apartment. “I don’t think it’s too bad, but you’ll still need to take it easy for a few days at least.”

“Of course.”

“And make sure you call Dembe, he’s worried about you.”

“I will.”

They’d made it to his bedroom and Liz extracted herself from her position at his side.

“Well, I think you can handle it from here,” she said, sounding agitated all of a sudden. “I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe come around to check on you?”

“That would be lovely, Lizzy.”

“And I can bring you some breakfast, save you trying to move around too much?” Liz must have noticed the look of shock on his face because she hurried on, “I don’t have to, I just thought it might be good. You need your rest, of course, and you still don’t know what happened tonight, there may be a threat out there that we need to deal with—”

“Lizzy,” he interrupted her nervous chatter with a gentle smile. “I would love to see you tomorrow morning, in whatever capacity you choose.”

She nodded quickly, looking relieved but still embarrassed.

“Great, that’s settled, then. I guess I’ll be going now.”

Red nodded and made his way slowly to the bed.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Lizzy,” he sighed, sitting down with a relieved groan. “Oh, and Lizzy?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, “for looking after me tonight. I would have been in a very bad way if it weren’t for you. So, thank you.”

Liz regarded him in silence, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“You’re welcome, Red.”

#the blacklist #lizzington #fanfiction #thanks for the prompt!#hunter-gatherer-stuff

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years

Text

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Six

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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Check out my writing commission information here! Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content! Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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Chapter Index

<<1>> <<2>> <<3>> <<4>> <<5>> <<6>> <<7>> <<8>> <<9>>

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Staring down at his phone, Toshinori resisted the urge to bite the inside of his cheek -- again -- and instead typed out a quick message, ‘Are you CERTAIN this is the right agency?’ The response came near at once, a frowning little emoji that Toshinori could feel Shouta’s exasperation through. ‘I just want to be certain!’

‘It’s the right one. Go inside. Stop being weird.’ Damn Shouta and damn Toshinori himself for feeling nervous about stepping into a pro-hero agency. He was All Might, after all! His home might as well have been hero agencies in general! Except… he wasn’t All Might quite like that anymore. Now he was simply Yagi Toshinori, a nervous wreck bringing one of his partners something to eat since he had practically skipped lunch.

Trying to text Shouta one more time, and getting no answer, Toshinori sighed and walked into the agency. He clutched tight at the bag that held the snacks and water he had carried with him, nervous as he edged his way inside before immediately being overtaken with, well, everything.

The lobby of Hizashi’s agency was in complete and utter chaos, Toshinori not sure where he should look or who he should ask for directions as people ran in all directions. There was a mix of general staff, lawyers, managers, interns, sidekicks, and even the odd second-year or two trailing after an adult.

Bright, searing color dominated the walls, a mix of color so intense that Toshinori had the urge to squint. The place was wild, fully of energy that surged through the air loud and clear with a heartbeat that was just full of life. It was an agency that suited Hizashi and Present Mic perfectly. It was also probably hell on the man, all things considered. Toshinori knew what an approaching sensory overload looked like, after all.

Distracted by a sea of calm over by the front desk where things seemed quieter and had some form of order to them, Toshinori carefully made his way over as he tried to keep his head down. He could already hear a few whispers, but, well, it wasn’t exactly easy to hide who he was anymore.

Still, he made it to the front desk, clearing his throat lightly and patiently waiting until the woman running the desk could look up and give him her attention. Toshinori knew from experience that the secretary who ran the front desk of a hero agency was often the one who kept most day-to-day operations running.

“Yes, how may I…” Ah. There was the recognition. Everyone in Japan knew what ‘All Might’ looked like now, and Toshinori did his best to put on a smile and wait for the possible spiel of oh my god you’re All Might oh my god what are you doing here can I get you autograph- “Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you today?”

The woman’s tone was utter professionalism, eyes still a bit wide, but expression and tone controlled and even. It was enough of a surprise that Toshinori was rushing to explain and, he could admit, over explain, “Ah, well, you see, I’m actually here to see Present Mic! Or, er, Yamada-san, as it were. You see, we work together at U.A., and he didn’t quite eat much at lunch, so I thought I would bring in some small foods for him to eat.

“Not that I don’t think he can’t take care of himself, of course! It’s just, well, if I’m being honest with you, while Yamada-san is incredible at caring for and helping others, he tends to neglect his own well-being. It’s doubtful he would remember to eat if we didn’t remind him -- plus, he’s so difficult. He works far too hard and he’s extremely hard on himself, and bringing in lunch is a good way to make sure the idiot hasn’t gone and drowned himself in a sea of paperwork or hung himself with a string of paper clips!”

Toshinori fell silent, wincing as the woman stared at him for a long, long moment before she was taking in a deep, steadying breath, and putting on the perfect smile, “Of course, sir. Let me contact Present Mic for you. It’s regulation that we contact the hero if any visitors arrive asking to meet them by name.”

Mumbling his thanks, Toshinori decided that he would have to remember to bring a gift basket for the woman the next time he visited because he had no doubt she truly was the only thing keeping it all together. She was also exceptionally nice in pretending she hadn’t heard him mumble and fluster himself as badly as Young Midoriya.

“Yamada-san?” The woman was already speaking into a phone, glancing up at All Might before she spoke again. “Yes, I was calling because… All Might is here to see you. He says he brought something to eat since you skipped lunch.” There was a beat of silence before there was a burst of crackling laughter that Toshinori heard even from how far away he was, the sound having him smile before he could try to resist.

The secretary said a few more things before she was nodding, hanging up the phone with a simple, “Yes, Yamada-san.” She then grabbed a visitor’s badge and held it out for him. “Please wear this around your neck and keep it in sight at all times for security purposes. Yamada-san’s office is reached easily by taking the northwest elevator up to level six. His door is the fourth one on the right. May I help you with anything else today, sir?”

Toshinori laughed, putting the badge around his neck before shaking his head, “Thank you, but no. Do let me know if you ever leave this agency and need another job, however.”

“Thank you, sir, but part of the reason I’m here is out of fondness to not see my idiots burn the entire agency to the ground. If it weren’t for that reason, then no one, not even you, could afford me.” With that the woman gave a polite smile and returned to work, Toshinori pulling out his phone as he headed towards the correct elevator. ‘Would it be considered rude if I were to run Hizashi’s agency out of business and then steal both him and the wonderful young woman at the front desk?’

The answering text came back immediately, which meant Shouta had been ignoring him earlier. ‘Many have tried. All failed. Stop worrying.’ Toshinori clucked his tongue, shoving his phone away. For someone who supposedly ‘wasn’t in touch with his emotions,’ Shouta was surprisingly observant when it came to the emotions of others.

A smattering of whispers had Toshinori glancing up just enough to see he was definitely being stared at and recognized. Honestly, he should have brought a hat or a jacket to hide behind. Then again, knowing his luck and considering he was carrying a nondescript bag, if he had hidden his face everyone no doubt would have assumed he was a bomber.

Some days, he despised the fact that the world now knew what he looked like. He could control the stares and the whispers when he was All Might, but… he wasn’t much All Might in that moment, really. Thankfully, he reached the right floor before his thoughts could spiral too deeply, Toshinori politely making his way out of the elevator before slumping in relief as no one got out with him.

He was then treated to the sight of, standing in front of the fourth door on the right, an irritated Yamada Hizashi ‘yelling’ at two sidekicks that were looking more and more like scolded students by the second. Toshinori only laughed when he got close enough to hear what was going on, Hizashi throwing his hands up in the air as he hissed, “-do not get to make that call yourself and walk off! When you’re hurt you are to report to the nearest medical personal for help. You’re lucky it seems to be nothing more than a severely twisted ankle!”

The injured one, who was using the other sidekick for support, sucked in a breath as if ready to fight back, “Present Mic, sir, the pain was barely present when I left the scene and I assumed I could just… walk it off.” The girl looked like she regretted the words as soon as they were out.

“Walk it off, huh?” Hizashi crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, looking rather judgmental considering his own medical escapades. “And how, exactly, Shifter, is that working out for you?”

“To be honest, sir, it was going a lot better before you noticed I was limping,” Shifter replied, Hizashi’s lips twitching into a barely there smile before he was rolling his eyes. “Does this mean I’m benched?”

The heartbroken tone showed the sidekick was still rather young, and Toshinori got to watch as Hizashi caved at once, “It means that you should get yourself to medical and get checked out. The sooner it’s healed, the sooner you get to do more work. Oracle, make sure she gets there.”

“Yes sir,” the other sidekick, Oracle, saluted before he was helping Shifter towards the elevator. Toshinori calmly walked past them, keeping to the shadows before he was at Hizashi’s side. There was a moment of silence, Toshinori finally laughing and shaking his head, “You're quite the hypocrite, aren’t you?” He had heard too many tales from Shouta and Hizashi both about the two of them skipping out on medical checks.

Hizashi’s response was to collapse backwards into his arms, Toshinori catching him with a startled laugh. There was then a dramatic, grief-filled groan that held too much pain to be fully passed off as dramatics.

Remembering what Shouta had mentioned about Hizashi appreciating the quiet, but not silence, Toshinori distracted Hizashi with a kiss to his cheek before shuffling him back into the office. It wasn’t a surprise to see the lights were off with only a dim lamp lighting the room, papers strewn all over in some form of chaotic order known only to Hizashi himself.

Kicking the door shut as quietly and carefully as he could, Toshinori leaned back against the sturdy wood and kept his arms low around Hizashi’s waist as the man turned around to curl in against him with a softer, more sincere sigh. Hizashi had always been eager to give and receive physical touch from others, but Toshinori wondered, after seeing him today, if it was more than just a personality trait.

Shouta hadn’t told him the full story, but between what he had shared and Hizashi’s actions throughout the day it wasn’t hard to guess that the man had been muzzled when he was a child. It was something Toshinori had seen even when doing his patrols with his new time limit. People feared powerful quirks that could be used against them, and it was a small part of why All Might kept his smile. It was no doubt that same line of thinking that made Present Mic seem fun and upbeat and like he didn’t take anything seriously.

Still, just because Toshinori had a good idea as to what pain Hizashi had been through, it didn’t mean he understood it. Physical pain, yes, that was something Toshinori understood far too well. He, of all people, knew what it was when one’s body betrayed them. Mental pain, however? Remnants of abuse that was as dangerous emotionally as it was physically? Yagi Toshinori nor All Might had ever dealt with that firsthand.

Soft touches seemed to help, Toshinori mused, one arm slung around Hizashi’s waist and the other rubbing circles against the man’s back. The stress and tension leaked out of him, but Toshinori was careful to avoid his head and neck. It didn’t take a genius to know that the last thing Hizashi needed on a bad day were touches to his neck and face.

After a few minutes, Toshinori moved himself, Hizashi, and his protesting knees over to the small couch that was kept in the office. Toshinori made sure to tug Hizashi down with him before the man could get back to work, distracting him by handing him the bag of snacks and water he had brought. He then looped his arms around Hizashi’s waist and pulled until his back was snugly pressed up against Toshinori’s chest.

The half-whispered grumble of complaint was enough to know Hizashi truly didn’t mind, instead putting up an argument just for argument’s sake. Toshinori hid a laugh, listening to their quiet breathing and the crinkling of plastic as Hizashi picked through the bag halfheartedly. Toshinori broke the silence, but he made sure not to break the quiet as he patted at Hizashi’s chest, getting his attention.

As soon as he had it, he was signing out a simple, ‘How has your day been so far, sweetheart?’ Even if Hizashi was reading his signs backwards, he had a feeling the man knew sign language from front to back to upside down. He was proven right when Hizashi gave a little wiggle of his body, a sure sign of his pleasure, before signing back.

‘Absolutely awful. I was about to jump out the window to escape before you arrived.’ The signs were careful and fluid, Hizashi no doubt knowing full well that Toshinori was still shaky with sign language sometimes even on a good day. ‘Quick question, though. Why are we using American Sign Language?’

Ah. Right. Toshinori cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed when he admitted, ‘I know the American Sign Language better than I do the Japanese Sign Language due to all the time I spent in America in my earlier years.’

‘Of course you do,’ Hizashi shot back, his smile as warm and soft as his tone no doubt would have been if he had spoken. ‘You should have told me sooner. I don’t have many people to practice with when it comes to ASL!’

‘A grievous error on my part. I assure you that such a mistake will never happen again.’ Toshinori watched Hizashi’s face scrunch up, eyes narrowing as he stared at Toshinori’s hands before signing again.

‘Are you trying to use words you know I won’t have used as often?’ Weighing his options for a moment, Toshinori signed a simple yes. The huff of laughter was a reward all its own, Hizashi shaking his head as he finally pulled out a snack and began eating, chattering away in sign one-handed as he did so.

Toshinori followed along, more paying attention to the fact that Hizashi was finally eating. It probably helped that the man’s support equipment was resting on his desk instead of tight around his neck like it usually was. If nothing else, it at least made it easier for him to eat something -- which Toshinori would not be bringing attention to. If he did then no doubt Hizashi would stop just to spite him.

Still, Toshinori made sure to keep the man relatively distracted as he worked his way through half the snacks and an entire bottle of water. It was enough that Toshinori was happy enough to not push when Hizashi set the bag down on the floor and settled more against him, throwing his legs up to rest on the other half of the couch.

‘Hey, Toshi.’ Hizashi signed, along with tapping at one of Toshinori’s hands to fully get his attention. His own hands then fell still, Hizashi looking almost nervous before he tipped his head back to meet Toshinori’s gaze with his own. ‘How do you deal with your own bad days?’

Oh. Well, now. There was a question. Toshinori shifted Hizashi so he was looking back at his hands, signing out a quick, ‘Let me gather my thoughts for a moment.’ Hizashi nodded, looking content to wait as long as it took as Toshinori got himself together. He really was too lucky when it came to being able to share his life with Hizashi and Shouta. Still, he had been asked a question, and Toshinori would do his best to answer it.

‘The best way I can begin to explain my bad days is that there was a Before and then there was an After.’ Before had been tolerable. His before had been nightmares and worries and fears, but he had managed to handle them. His after, on the other hand… ‘In the Before my bad days were about people I couldn’t save. Villains that had escaped and caused untold damage before I could stop them. Times I had failed as a hero…’

It had been the fears that all heroes shared, whether young or old. They all had nightmares of their failures, and it killed Toshinori to see so many young students and children getting ready to shoulder on that same burden.

Forcing out a sigh, Toshinori looked down at Hizashi, who was watching Toshinori’s hands with rapt attention. Toshinori let himself give a bit of a smile before he continued, ‘In those Before days when I had a day I knew was going to be bad, it was as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders and I couldn’t dare bend under it -- not even for a moment.’ He had been All Might, after all. He had been the Number One Hero.

Toshinori had heard the old story of Atlas who had been punished by being forced to hold up the sky. He knew that the story had changed over time and it was Atlas who held the world now, his burden increasing a thousand-fold. Toshinori had understood that story far too well; beginning with one heavy burden and then being given an impossible one.

‘Then there came the After. After was… more difficult.’ After came following that fight, where he had almost managed to lose everything; his life, his quirk, his promise to Nana. ‘After… My bad days in the Before was what one would typically expect. Jumpy, irritable, anxious, trying to pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. My bad days for the After I just try to survive.’

His After involved crawling through the day and struggling to so much as suck in a single breath, heart hammering and lungs screaming for air that would never come. It was trying to keep the world on his shoulders with his bones breaking with every single misstep he dared to take. His bad days in the After, he had realized, involved far, far too many missteps.

‘My bad days are paranoia,’ Toshinori signed, grateful he had an excuse to not look at Hizashi’s face -- grateful he didn’t have to say any of what he was telling him out loud. ‘My bad days are me waking up and thinking that I didn’t win that fight. That HE is still out there, waiting and watching for my next mistake.’ He knew All For One was locked away and that it was finally over, but it never felt like it.

‘It’s seeing Young Midoriya dead and suffering for all of my mistakes.’ Because he had been impatient and foolish and hadn’t stopped to realize that Midoriya Izuku, for all his skills and talents and heart, was still a child. ‘It’s seeing the ones I love dead and gone because I wasn’t strong enough to save them or even so much as try to help them.’

He had always seen his loved ones dead in his nightmares. It was impossible to be a hero and not see something like that, but it felt like it was only getting worse and worse as time went by. The more he made a home with where he was in life, the more terrified he was that one last misstep was all it would take to lose it.

Raising his hands to start signing again, Toshinori instead jumped when his hands were grabbed, Hizashi lacing them together with his own before tilting his head back to look up at him. His voice was little more than a quiet whisper when he spoke, “It’s okay, Toshi.”

Toshinori didn’t even try to fight the grip, instead letting his head drop forward to rest on Hizashi’s shoulder. He didn’t stop the weak, bitter laugh from escaping him, either. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one reassuring you?”

“Not your fault. I just have a lot of practice in dealing with self-sacrificing idiots.” Hizashi shifted and twisted until he could place a soft kiss against Toshinori’s cheek. It was a little sad how stupidly fuzzy and happy that made Toshinori feel. “Thank you for telling me.”

“For you, sweetheart, anything,” Toshinori swore, pulling Hizashi more against him and turning his head to gaze at the man quietly. Hizashi still looked worn and ragged and so, so tired, but there was a smile on his face. It was small, and subdued, and still so tired, but it was a smile.

“You know,” Hizashi whispered softly, leaning in so his words were pressed against Toshinori’s cheek. “Maybe we could start helping each other through our bad days. What do you think?”

Toshinori sighed softly as love-stricken feelings washed through him, relaxing him further as he bundled Hizashi even closer and tilted the man’s head so he could give him a soft, lingering kiss. “Sweetheart, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

They were pro-heroes -- all three of them. They knew the risks and the dangers of what their lives and worlds entailed, but, Toshinori mused, it was nice to be reminded they were just people, too.

Besides, curled around one of his hurting partners and being able to help soothe him, even just a little? He had never felt more like a hero than in that moment.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #where i want to be #allerasermic #mha #my hero academia #original #my writing

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