Fluff! No lemons or smut! Sorry guys, but I'm trying to diversify.
You're skulking down the sidewalk, trying to block the throbbing in your hip.
Stupid men. Some idiot gang bangers had tried to take you in the alleyway. Of course, a few simple curses will have them dying of a non-contagious plague.
You may be ruthless and twisted, but you don't want EVERYONE in town dying. Some of these people are pretty nice! Especially that old couple up on the hill. All the kids are scared of them because they seem evil, but you find them very nice to be around when you're sad or depressed.
Sighing, you limp up the steps to your small house on the outskirts of town. You pull your keys out, but you realise that the door isn't even shut properly. Strange. You always at least shut your door, though you don't usually lock it.
But then... You've been waiting almost six months for someone you love and care about very much. In fact, he's one of five people you don't want to jinx. Could it be...?
You slowly, silently push the door open and slip inside. Already, you see the light of the kitchen is on. A hiss and clang sound, followed by a lot of curse words.
"Shut up, wi-will you? We d-don't know if her-her roommate's here!" You used to have a roommate, but she moved out a week ago. "Hold sti-still, d-damnit." Immediately, you recognize Toby's voice.
You drop your bag and run into the kitchen, skidding to a stop at the door. Your eyes pop at the sight of Toby, without his shirt, mouth guard and jacket, goggles pushed onto his head. He's frozen with a stitching needle in hand, trying to fix another boy's bullet wound. Both look like they got out of a huge fight.
The other boy must either be Brian, Toby's closest friend and fellow Proxie, but you're not paying much attention to him.
"Toby." You whisper, not quite believing.
Both boys are staring back, shocked. Hoodie is a little horrified, and obviously in pain. Toby hands him the needle, not taking his eyes off of you. In the next moment, his bloody, bruised arms are around you, lifting you up and twirling you around, his face in your shoulder. When he sets you down, he pulls back just enough to look at you and smile. You smile back, letting yourself drown in his beautiful smile, his dazzling eyes, his adorably wild hair.
"Sorry I di-didn't come back sooner. Slen-slenderman was keeping us all ver-very busy." He bends down and whispers in your ear, "Our l-last mission was all-all the way in England, tra-tracking some fanatic getting too-too close to finding us." You giggle.
"I'm glad your back, but are you two bleeding all over my kitchen?" You demand, only partially mocking offense.
Realizing he's getting you bloody, he jumps back a bit. "Oh, ri-right. Brian, this is (Y/n). We needed a place to-to lay low from the c-cops and get fixed up. I was hoping you-you'd be home, so you could do-do that magic shit." He wiggles his fingers, making you laugh.
You sigh and look at him. He's got a knife wound on his hip, a bullet probably pretty deep in his arm, innumerable bruises and small scrapes, possibly shattered ankle and he's dripping blood from his back, so something even worse happened there. Then you look at Brain. He's calm now, but still in pain. And you can see why. Three gunshot grazes in his side, a stab wound in his shoulder and a broken nose.
You walk over and look at the stitches Toby had done before you had arrived. Exasperated, you scoff and look back and the ticker. "Have you ever stitched a wound before? I know you can do better then this."
He raises his hands in defense. "I'm still sh-aky from the adrenaline, and the bul-bullet doesn't help." He points to his soldier.
"You could use it just fine when the witch came in." Brian growls at him.
