#hurtfic

Midnight

Midnight is incredibly good at hiding her emotions, I believe. Shes used to wearing a mask 24/7 in her hero role, so when she finds out you'd been hospitalized by a villain, she puts on a mask of levelheadedness. She would feel guilty if you had to comfort her after you'd just been traumatized.

Course, you aren't used to this side of her, so you assume she doesn't care. You end up breaking down and asking if she even cares.

"Of course I care, love, did I make it seem like I didn't?" "I'm so sorry baby, I just didn't want to stress you more."

After that, things smooth out. If you don't mind the eventual scar, she'll make it into a joke and flirt about it. "Y'know, I always thought scars were attractive~" and similar things.

If you don't like the idea of a scar, she offers comfort, and a way to hide it until you're more comfortable. "If you want, I can help you hide it and minimize it."

Shes very affectionate the entire time, she doesn't leave the hospital until you basically force her to go check on your cat and get some actual sleep.

Secretly blames herself for not being able to protect you.

After you get out of the hospital she doesn't treat you like glass, persay, but she does NOT let you do anything against your doctor's orders.

She also helps you sign up for therapy and reminds you that whatever happened wasn't your fault. (Hypocrite much?)

Kisses you and reassures you 24/7

It takes a bit for her to stop blaming herself, but you work together:)

Eraserhead

Most emotional man I know of. "logical" my ass.

Aizawa is immediately at your side. Like he will run across rooftops to get to you. He has NO chill. Part of me believes he gets to the hospital at the same time as you.

Clingiest motherfucker alive. Every ten minutes in the waiting room it's "Can I go in yet?" To the nurses. He doesn't sit down once.

Once he gets to you literally nothing is capable of getting him away from you.

He comforts you whenever you need it, deep down he knows there was nothing he really could've done to get there sooner. He's completely and totally focused on you.

When your other friends get the clear to see you, Joke takes pictures of you and him sleeping in the most awkward position

Brings your favorite blankets and foods

Makes you a playlist of classical music to help you sleep

Anything you need, bro is on it immediately

Once you're released he refuses to let you do anything strenuous. He opens the car door for you, helps you get buckled, etc etc.

He does take the hint when you ask to shower alone, and backs off a bit after that.

He offers to ask Recovery Girl to heal you, and brings you painkillers when you need them.

He understands your paranoia after the incident and helps you learn basic ways to keep yourself safe.

All Might

Would get to the hospital as soon as he could, but knows that you'd want him to stay and finish any responsibilities.

If he's in the middle of something, he finishes it as fast as he can and then gets to the hospital.

He gets there just as you're being taken to a room

Instantly asking if you're okay, if you need anything. The second you say you need something he's on it.

Also a clingy motherfucker

But he knows how to distract you from whatever hurts with dumb jokes and pictures of his student's progress.

Knows how to fill dead air basically. Doesn't really ask about the villain unless you bring it up, just to make sure he doesn't potentially trigger anything.

Listens empathetically when you tell him about what happened.

Offers to get you food, but you're both indecisive so it's just a back and forth of:

"what do you want to eat?"

"idk, I'm good with whatever, what do you want"

"you're the one in the hospital bed, what do you want?"

"you have to go get it, so-"

"fine, (food you hate) it is."

"..."

Won't treat you like glass, he knows what it's like and fuckin hated it.

Still offers to help you though, he just doesn't want to suffocate you

Takes you on drives across the coast to get a break from the city

Ms. Joke

Tries to act like she wasn't worried and knew you'd be fine the whole time

She didnt

She had to call Midnight to calm her down

Makes jokes about you "being apart of the club now" (having been attacked by villains) and then apologizes for what happened

Brings you treats and things to make you smile (comfort items, silly things she saw at the store, etc)

Has Nemuri smuggle your guy's tiny dog in and out like twice

Sits in silence and watches you sleep

Brings you headphones to drown out the annoying beeping

A little over protective afterwards

Clingy, but not Shouta clingy.

"you should go home"

"why, is something wrong?"

"you haven't left the hospital in a week, you clown."

"oh yeah. Oops!"

"..."

"ok ok I'm going!"

Showers, but also washes the exact same clothes and rewears them just to fuck with you "you didn't say I had to change"

"tell me you washed those, em, or you're on the couch and the dog gets your pillows."

The members of TXT were preparing for a new comeback. The new songs for the album had been written, and their demo tracks finished. They had reached the final recording sessions before they were due to work on choreography and film all of the promotional material. 

None of the members were more excited for the new comeback than the two maknaes, Taehyun and Hueningkai.

They had been called up to come and record their lines together, and the excitement was practically vibrating through the air as they walked through HYBE's corridors.

"I think we have to go up a couple of floors to get to the recording studio from here?" Taehyun said as they walked.

"Yeah, you're right, let's take the elevator," Said Kai as they turned a corner towards a set of elevators.

"Ning Ning," Taehyun whined, "Can we not just take the stairs? It won't take that long,"

"Hyunie, we've already done so much exercise this week! You're barely out of the gym, it's not going to hurt anybody."

Taehyun sighed, anxiety rising, "Fine."

Taehyun had a secret. Not a big secret, but an embarrassing secret.

He's claustrophobic. 

He hadn't told Kai for two reasons; one, because it had never come up, Taehyun always took the stairs and passed it off as 'extra exercise', and two, he didn't want to be seen as weak by his boyfriend and the other members. 

The idea of an elevator made Taehyun sweat, and shivers run down his spine. 

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the elevator with Kai.

Everything had gone to plan until the elevator made a deafening thud, stopping harshly.

Taehyun felt panic rise in his chest.

He'll be fine, right? This should only last for a few minutes. He can hold it together for another few minutes.

"It's probably just teething problems with the new building," Kai chuckled. Taehyun awkwardly joined in. 

Then, the lights went out. 

Taehyun could no longer keep the anxiety at bay. His breathing became more shallow, his palms clammy, and his chest felt tight.

"Th-the lights will probably be back on soon," He told himself out loud, swallowing around his tight throat.

"Are you okay, Hyung?" Kai asked, concerned, coming closer to Taehyun.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just a bit stuffy in here,"

Kai hummed in agreement. "I'm going to text Yoongi hyung to let him know we're going to be late."

"Good idea,"

One of the reasons the couple had been so excited for these vocal recording sessions was because Yoongi was producing the title track on the new album. BTS were usually that busy that they didn't get to spend much time with their younger label brothers.

The light of Kai's phone screen illuminated the elevator, giving Taehyun some relief. 

It wasn't pitch-black darkness. He'd be fine.

Kai was leaning on the far wall of the elevator, and Taehyun was opposite.

"He said they're going to send someone to get us out, we've just got to hang on, babe," Kai smiled at Taehyun. Taehyun returned the smile, albeit awkwardly.

Let the wait begin. 

It had been forty-five minutes, and Taehyun's calm facade was crumbling. Kai had sat on the floor of the elevator long-ago, playing some game on his phone. Taehyun was still standing, leaning against the wall, not daring to move, in fear that if he did, he'd fall apart. 

'Well, that plan has worked hasn't it?' He thought sarcastically as the anxious fog at the back of his head came forward.

His breathing become more shallow and quick, as his stomach churned. He felt his heart racing, the sound of its thumping so loud in his ears it was deafening. 

"Taehyun? Are you okay?" Kai asked, looking up from his phone to see his boyfriend falling over the edge and giving in to panic. "Taehyun?"

Kai leapt up from where he was sitting on the floor of the elevator and quickly moved over to where his boyfriend was standing. Kai stood in front of Taehyun, putting his hands on either side of the older boy's face in a failed attempt to get Taehyun to look him in the eyes. "Taehyunie, are you okay?"

Taehyun violently shook his head, screwing his eyes shut tightly as tears started to fall.

"What's the matter?"

"Trapped," Taehyun choked out between panicked breaths, "W-we're trapped!"

"Not for long okay? We're going to be fine, just a little longer,"

Kai would soon find out that this was the wong things to say. Taehyun felt his breathing become even more shallow and even quicker.

"I'm so sorry," Taehyun wept. He felt the blood drain from his head, his stomach churned once again violently, and his vision became foggy. 

Then suddenly, Taehyun became boneless, blacking out and falling forward onto Kai, who luckily caught him before he hit the ground. Struggling with the dead weight of an almost fully grown man, Kai carefully slid down the wall of the elevator so he was sitting with his back against the wall, and Taehyun was laying on the floor, his head in Kai's lap. 

When Taehyun felt himself return to the world, he did not see anything at first. Instead, he head the soothing voice of his boyfriend repeating "I've got you, I've got you, I'm not going anywhere," while carding his fingers through Taehyun's damp hair.

Taehyun blinked open his eyes to notice that the elevator's lights were back on. The second thing he noticed was Kai's face, creased with worried, staring down at him.

"How long was I out for?"

"About two minutes," Kai said. "You really scared me Taehyunie."

"Sorry," Taehyun said, feeling awkward.

"You wanna tell me what all that was about?" 

Taehyun closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to see the look on his boyfriend's face when he told him. "I-I'm claustrophobic," He sighed. "Elevators and stuff freak me out anyway, and-and-"

"Getting stuck made it worse?" Kai finished.

Taehyun nodded.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby."

" I just didn't want you to think that I am weak," Taehyun whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Kai leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to Taehyun's forehead. 

"I could never view you as weak, Taehyunie,"

A second later, the doors of the elevator opened to reveal the maintenance guy, Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu and Yoongi looking at them.

"Finally," Taehyun sighed in relief. 

The other members rushed into the elevator to help them both to their feet. "Are you guys okay?" Soobin asked.

"We are now," Kai smiled.

The five members walked out of the elevator to be greeted by Yoongi. He looked at Taehyun and Hueningkai softly. "You guys, go get some rest, we'll reschedule for another time."

The members headed back to their dorm, Taehyun and Kai walking hand in hand.

"We're taking the stairs next time," Taehyun said, deadpan.

Hyuka could only laugh.

Later that night, the dorm was unusually quiet. The members gave Taehyun a little more space than usual - hovering, doting, without making a show of it. Beomgyu even brought him a mug of warm honey tea without saying a word, just plopping it beside him on the couch with a pat on the shoulder. Soobin had turned the heating up a little, and Yeonjun wordlessly tossed him a blanket with mock annoyance.

Taehyun lay curled against Kai, the two tucked into the corner of the couch, half-watching a variety show rerun. Kai was gently combing his fingers through Taehyun's hair again, humming quietly.

"You scared me today," Kai whispered after a moment.

"I scared myself."

Kai kissed the top of his head. "Thanks for trusting me."

"Thanks for staying," Taehyun murmured.

Yeonjun looked over from the kitchen and rolled his eyes with a fond smile. "If you two get any more domestic, I'm gonna vomit."

"Shut up, you're the one who made Taehyun soup literally five minutes ago," Beomgyu quipped.

"He looked pale!" Yeonjun defended. 

"You all are the best," Taehyun said sleepily, a smile ghosting across his lips." Even if you're ridiculous."

Sobbin spoke up from his spot by the window, warm and firm: "Next time, just tell us. We'll carry you up twenty flights of stairs if that's what you need."

Taehyun's eyes grew glassy again, but this time it wasn't from panic - it was from the gentle swell of being known and still loved.

"I'll hold you to that," he said.

"Deal," said Kai.

You kicked off your shoes, abandoning the bag of food on the counter in favor of getting out of your outerwear, putting on something much more comfortable, one of Azriel’s shirts that he’d left exactly for this purpose. He was a territorial male and seeing you in his clothes did things to him that he wouldn’t ever admit to his brothers.

You tied your hair up messily and lit the hearth, humming along to a song you’d heard coming from the music hall up the road as you snagged the bag of food off of the counter and settled into your plush couch, wrapping the fuzzy blanket around yourself that had been thrown over the back of the sofa haphazardly.

It was nice to unwind from the tiring day, the flavors of your favorite food bursting on your tongue, still hot in their takeaway containers. You wished Az was here, if only to bask in the silence together, spending the quality time with him around was enough. 

You ate directly from the boxes, uncaring and there was no point in dirtying dishes. Azriel wouldn’t care either. Oftentimes you found him in the mornings standing in front of your open refrigerator, taking a swig from the juice carton or mouth half-stuffed with leftovers while he pulled out breakfast ingredients.

Feeling full and warm under your blankets, eyes dropping slightly, you managed to wrangle yourself up from the sofa and put away the rest of your food, snagging one of the faelights in your hand to take to your room while the others dimmed to black, the only light in the room from the fireplace. Azriel was darkness himself, and if he came around he would have no trouble finding the way to your room, even if the hearth wasn’t lit.

You got yourself ready for bed, hugging your arms closer to your chest, willing the warmth into your bones. A warm bath would do you good, but you’d much rather wait to take one with Az when he comes around, relaxing together and catching up on the things you’d missed from each other’s lives in the past week.

The hearth is double sided, built into the center of the wall, one half in your bedroom, the other half in the living room. It was a design you hadn’t seen before but were thankful of, knowing that there was some sort of warmth spread throughout your home. It’d be warm in the kitchen in the morning just as it would be in your room.

Settling into your bed, the book you’d fallen asleep reading still in the spot next to you. You propped up the fluffy pillows behind you and curled up, flipping the novel open to where you remembered leaving off.

It wasn’t a great read but it was something to do. Something to take your mind off of the worries of work or overthinking how Azriel was doing, hoping he wasn’t getting himself into trouble.

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to start drooping with sleep, stomach full and sated, relaxed and warm in bed. You don’t have it in you to even get up and turn out the faelights, maybe you’ll just rest your eyes for a few seconds and then you’ll go and do just that.

A crash jolts you from your drowsiness, jumping in your spot and clutching your sheets to your chest. The noise came from the kitchen and you had no idea what it could be at this time of the night.

Swallowing harshly, you climb out of your bed as quietly as possible. The apartment is silent other than the crash that had happened and the pounding of your heart in your ears. You try and take calming breaths, reaching for the small dagger Azriel had gotten you for your birthday, though he hadn’t gotten around to teaching you how to use it in other aspects except for in the bedroom, but it would have to do for now.

You take a deep breath, weapon clenched tightly in one hand, the other on the knob of the door, muscles taut and ready to pounce. You fling the door open, knife raised to attack but your arm falls to your side in relief when you recognize who it is.

“I’ve never heard you make so much noise, Shadowsinger,” you quip, watching where he stands against your counter, back to you, his large wings drooping slightly.

He turns around slowly and you gasp at the sight, Azriel holding a large cut across his abdomen shut with his hand, the other doesn’t look to be faring much better. His eyes are dark, shadows swirling around him protectively, like they had a hand in holding his arm against his chest as he winnowed. 

He looked deathly pale and you could tell in the low light of the room just how soaked his shirt and leathers are with his blood.

You finally move as he sinks down onto the ground with a pained grunt.

“Azriel,” you’re frantic, rushing over to him and falling on your knees next to him, examining his wounds. Why he’d come straight here you had no idea. He should have winnowed directly to the High Lord’s house, for the healers there were far more skilled than you.

He gives you a faint smile, hazel eyes open barely and watching as you jump into action. He wants so desperately to tuck the rouge hair that had fallen from the messy style you’d pulled it up into behind your ear but his limbs feel so heavy and he’s tired, he just wants to sleep.

“No you don’t,” you slap him harshly on the cheek, only for the purpose of keeping him awake. His eyes snap wide for a moment and he forces himself awake, focusing on holding his head upright on his shoulders.

“How could you be so stupid?” you ask, brows furrowed in fear as you cut away the shirt from his wound. It could be worse, you realize, as none of his organs have been injured. He’s just lost a lot of blood and the wound is already starting to heal itself, but he’ll need stitches so it closes up correctly.

He smirks, hissing at the tug as his lips stretches the wound.

“What are you smiling for? This is serious!” you scramble for your personal kit, pulling your surgical thread and supplies to clean and patch his wound.

“You like me,” he teases, and you huff out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you ready your materials.

“Well yeah, I thought that much was obvious,” you roll your eyes, gently patting at the wound to clean up some of the blood around it. “Some spy you are.”

He groans as you sew him up, the tender flesh inflamed and aching, but he wouldn’t have anyone else do it. You try and ease some of his pain with a thick salve you smear across the wound, his fists clenching and muscles in his jaw jumping as he holds in the pained noises.

You set his wrist as best you can. You’ll make him go see a proper healer in the morning and if they have to re-break his arm to fix it correctly, well, then that’s Azriel’s fault.

You help him to your bed. He’s still dizzy and stumbles a few times but he catches himself before toppling to the ground ungracefully. You’re still worried, shaken that he’s appeared to you like this, mind racing with thoughts of what happened as you sit him on the corner of your bed and move to get a cloth and basin to clean him with.

You stand in the bath, scrubbing at your hands, the clear water turning ruddy with his blood. Your fingers are trembling and your breathing hasn’t returned to normal, it’s a wonder you patched him up so well.

You don’t know how long you’re in there until he places his uninjured hand on your shoulder and you’re jumping in your spot, looking up at him with scared eyes. 

His face softens and he realizes just how much he’s put you through by doing this. He turns off the water and gently towels your hands dry before tucking you into his chest.

He doesn’t care that you’re rubbing against his wound because it means that you’re there and he gets to hold you again, kiss the tears from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair and you let out the sob you’d been holding back. His hand holds your head to his chest and he hugs you as tightly as you need until you notice his discomfort, muscles tensed beneath you and you’re pushing him back and telling him to sit on the counter as you rub your eyes furiously, taking the cloth from his hand and running it under the water.

He wipes every tear that falls and his heart aches as you clean him from the blood because you refuse to look him in the eyes while you work, meticulously wiping at his dirty skin.

“I think you’ve got it all,” he says softly, catching your hands in one of his own as you wipe across his lower abdomen for the fourth time, “It’s okay (Y/N).”

You shake your head. You’ve forced the tears to stop but you couldn’t look at him for the fear that the dam would burst again. “It’s not, though, Azriel.” Your voice shakes and you wring the dirty cloth between your fingers. “I almost lost you tonight, don’t you get that?”

And he absolutely does. He thought that he had lost you too, when he was bleeding out in the woods you were the only thing that he could think about. Seeing you one last time was his dying wish and he used up nearly all of his energy making his way back to you.

“I do,” he soothes, taking you into his arms once again, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he cradles you as close as he can, “I do and I’m sorry.”

You choke on a bitter laugh, pulling away to finally get a good look at him. He’s still looking peaky and exhausted, and you should get him to rest, berate him in the morning. You help him out of his leathers and bloodied undergarments.

Normally you’d be keening to see him completely nude, but you just want this horrific day to be over. 

You lead him to your bed, removing your own stained shirt and climbing in beside him.

Neither of you speak, but he pulls you in close, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead and he begins playing with your hair, massaging his good hand through it as you cling to his side.

“If you had listened to my warning about the ice advisory, this wouldn’t have happened." Usually, you think Google Alpha’s bluntness is refreshing. Yet, somehow, with your ankle throbbing like it is underneath you, you find it’s lost its appeal. You shift, trying to find the best way forward, and hiss at the sharp pain that shoots up your leg.

“Can you just help me up, please?” you start to ask, but his hands are already taking your arm, one of his coming around behind you to hook under the other, preparing to lift you. He kneels close, the short spikes laced tightly around his shoes digging into the wintry drift you find yourself in.

“Keep your weight off it, and keep it down; trying to fully lift it may cause unnecessary injury,” he warns flatly before hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. With your full weight on him, you can feel how his faux flesh only slightly softens the metal undergirding it. It doesn’t have the give of muscle and bone, as convincing his exterior might lead you to believe. But you’re thankful for its might, now, with how little you have to contribute to getting your good foot under you, merely leaning into Google’s hold and trying not to yelp with pain as your wounded ankle drags through the ice. He notices your pain and pauses. “According to research by Richard Stevens and Olly Robertson, repeating a swear word at a steady pace and volume benefits pain tolerance.” Another pause as your good foot slips a bit in the snow. “It would be all right if you were to swear. I am happy to suggest a few options.”

“I think getting me inside might make it so I don’t have to tolerate this pa- fuck,” you interrupt yourself, another jolt running up your leg and seemingly into the pit of your stomach as your leg, weakened from the fall, dips and shifts your weight.

“Yes, exactly like that.” You can’t tell if he’s purposefully being a jerk to be funny. Since his upgrade, it’s hard to tell. But Google begins to move, and you fall in hopping step with him, biting your tongue to keep from voicing any one of the sharp comments or choice words your mind offers in response.

But once inside, it’s hard to stay annoyed. Practically everyone watched you wipe out on the ice, the Manor’s windows as big as they are, so you’re immediately surrounded in a flurry of concern and hurried attempts to help in whatever way your housemates can think of. Mostly, though, everyone ends up just sort of anxiously wringing their hands as the Googles flock around you, helping to take the weight off even your good leg so the bad one isn’t so jostled as you make your way to the couch. Yancy’s already piled up pillows to prop you and your leg up, although his attempts to help get you situated fall to the wayside with all four of the androids’ combined, unspoken intent fixated on getting you settled properly.

“You will need to keep it elevated,” Delta chimes, carefully picking at your laces to loosen your shoe as much as possible. He pulls a little too hard on one and tugs your ankle funny, sending a searing spark through the heavy dullness of your limb. In a flash, Alpha grabs his hands and fixes him with a searing glare. You can tell from their humming servos that some very heated words are being mentally exchanged before the original Google releases his counterpart, who silently retreats to the side. Beta quickly and wordlessly replaces him, undoing your shoe more cautiously as the other egos stay well out of the way of the frighteningly intense androids. Alpha stays at your side, kneeling to be on your level. He futzes with a pillow, helping you to sit up more comfortably.

Honestly, it’s all a little much, especially with how intently he watches you, eyes flickering over your face. You can feel your cheeks heating up with all the attention.

“I have already contacted Dr. Iplier to come assess your condition. However, he will need to see the area in question in order to complete a full medical evaluation. Beta is going to remove your shoe, when you are ready. It will likely be painful.” He pauses again, then intentionally offers you his hand. “You… may squeeze my hand, if you need to.”

You hesitate, coming back to yourself and getting a handle on the situation. Looking at how your shoe rises up over your ankle, even with its laces removed, you know it’s going to be a bitch to get off. “Right. Okay.” A small exhale and you take Alpha’s proffered hand, wrapping around it tight enough to feel the unyielding metal underneath the flesh. His fingers curl reflexively around yours, but then squeeze slightly. You’re certain he can feel your heart jump, but you nod, determined not to read too much into it. He’s just being helpful. “Ready.”

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

Later, when the light begins to fade, Google returns to check on you. Between the four of them, they’d gotten you up to your room after Dr. Iplier’s assessment that, although severe, your ankle hadn’t broken, and it was likely just a very bad sprain. He moves intentionally around your room, setting down a plate from dinner on your side table before making sure to turn your lamps on for you. The soft light after the harshly bright yet gray winter day is a welcome thing. You already feel warmer, giving him a slightly lazy smile in appreciation.

“Is there anything else you need?” Alpha intones, standing near the last lamp with his arms at his sides. Looking at him from a slight distance like this, you realize he stands so strangely. He’s clearly at attention, awaiting a response, yet lacks much of the stiffness you’d associate with the stance. Programmed to be attentive, yet relaxed. The lines of his body created to be hard, but his AI pulling them into some semblance of normal human positioning. Noticing it, it’s hard to think of much else. Then, suddenly, he does something new. He shifting slightly under your gaze, like your attention is too much. Like he’s nervous. “Do you want… something else to drink, or-“

“No, no,” you cut across him. You push yourself up some more, feeling like you’re too laid out flat for whatever is happening, and Google moves as if to help you. You wave him off gently. “I’m fine. But, uh. Maybe…” Is this weird? Is this going to make things weird? You jettison the thought. “Could you… sit with me? It’s. Well. It’s kind of boring, just eating alone.”

The android pauses, processing your request. Then, as he does everything, he takes the chair from your desk like he’d planned to do it anyway and without hesitation. He settles near you as you try not to smile too broadly and pick up your dinner.