#I could do exactly the same job I want to do as a nurse + I am a fucking Doctor + a woman in STEM + I get the same benefit of being able

[2024skin]

can't decide if I want to be a gynecologist or if I want to marry one

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Hated. Fucked. Loved.

Kinktober Day 16: Hate-Fucked

Male Rival Yandere x Male Reader CW: PAINFUL noncon, bloody non-con, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, kidnapping, non-sexual bondage, piss, reader pissed on in shower, OC hates reader then turns yandere, sadism, sadistic yandere, protective yandere, mind-broken reader, briefly feminized reader, forced crossdressing, brief display of homophobia/f-slur, psychological damage, violence, minor character death, WHUMP, angst but eventual comfort, weapons-grade Stockholm Syndrome, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 4.1k (Oh lordy, this one is brutal. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Not betaread so please excuse any errors. The longest fic of kinktober and the finale. I wish you all a Scary Hexmas and hope this Hexmas time meal is filling. Don't forget to comment <3)

Will. Fucking. Hated. You.

He had ever since he first met you in grade school. It seemed that no matter what he did, you always had to show him up. The only area he seemed to do better than you was in popularity. But that just didn't fulfill him enough.

Will wanted real acknowledgment that he was better than you could ever be. He wanted it reflected in his grades and in the opinions of the teachers. He wanted absolutely everyone to see he was better than you.

He wanted you to see it, too.

But despite all of his unmitigated vitriol towards you, you always ignored it and treated him with kindness. You figured maybe he had a bad home life or some other difficulty that made him take it out on you. His behavior still made you cry sometimes... but you really wanted to make everyone like you. You were a people pleaser, and you wanted him to be happy.

But it infuriated him, stoked the embers of his hatred for you into a full-on inferno every single time you did it. To him, it was clear evidence that you thought you were better than him. That you were above him. Morally superior.

As if poor trash like you could be better than him.

He knew all your kind behavior was a farce to make him look bad. To taunt him.

One time, when Will had been out of school with a broken leg, you had gotten the entire class to join you in sending him get well cards. You had even made homemade cupcakes. He was sure you were laughing at him!!! Goading him. And convincing everyone you were so great at the same time. Fucking piece of shit.

No matter what you did in life Will couldn't stop following your path until he proved he was the better man. He was obsessed.

When you went to a small cheap college, he dutifully followed you to it. His family was immensely wealthy. He could have gone to a much more prestigious university, he could have just gotten a job in his father's company, but he didn't want to use his money or connections to prove he was better than lowly scum like you. He wanted you to see he was better in every metric.

And he had to be there to see your face when you were finally defeated.

He even went into your field so he could do the same courses. So he could prove that you were a piece of shit to be discarded in comparison to him.

Since you were going to school to be a nurse for the elderly, you saw Will's obsessive competition not as a crazy need to prove you to be inferior to him but instead as absolute proof that he was secretly a wonderful person. For how could someone so devoted to the care of the old possibly be bad? Especially when nurses were paid relatively little and he had come from such a wealthy background! It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job.

So you still treated him with kindness. It was okay that he didn't like you. Now that you knew he was actually sweet below that prickly exterior, you could laugh off all his cruel behavior towards you much more easily.

This was unacceptable to him.

When you both graduated, he even went to work at the same nursing home as you. This gave you the impression that maybe he was a bit crazy over you. But not in the way that he actually was. You thought he had a crush on you. You thought all his meanness towards you was probably internalized homophobia with his following you through life proof of him really liking you.

You made the conscious effort to make Will happier and be even nicer to him now that you were sure you knew the truth.

That isn’t how he saw you doubling down on kindness.

Taunting him. Taunting him. Taunting him. That's all you ever did. Flaunting it for years. Pretending to be unaffected by him. As if he was an insignificant speck of dust that did nothing to you. That's how he interpreted your behavior. He hated you so much.

The final straw was when you threw Will a small surprise birthday party in the break room at work. Of course, he had to pretend to love it. Eat your overly sweet homemade cake.

To him, it was the ultimate humiliation. He had to pretend to like it. To thank you for the cake and the gift you gave him. A gift card to his favorite store.

You were just so smug. Thought you had pulled a great victory over him, he was sure. It wasn't like he could say anything. If he did, he would sound crazy. No one would believe him if he told them that you threw him the party just to anger and embarrass him.

Will snapped. He didn't show it, though. He acted calm for days as he slowly readied his revenge. He readied his basement and got all the required supplies for his self-appointed task. His reason for being. To break you and get revenge for the countless times you had made a fool of him.

For days after the party, Will had acted a lot calmer and less aggressive towards you. No more mean or sarcastic comments at your expense. You thought that maybe he was finally getting to a point where he was accepting his feelings.

But you couldn't have been more wrong. Will didn’t have to retaliate to perceived slights. You were beneath him, and he was finally going to prove it to you in every sense of the word.

You had stayed late at the hospital. Will waited for you to leave and followed you out into the parking lot. You had walked to work since the weather had been so pleasant, and since it was such a short distance from your house, you had to pass through the nearly vacant parking lot to go home.

As you passed his car, Will reached out from the shadows and grabbed you. Before you could scream, he held a cloth over your mouth with a strong hand. You struggled profusely until the chloroform overwhelmed you, and your body went completely limp. Will briefly noted that you looked kind of peaceful and cute before stuffing such gross thoughts aside. He quickly tied you up and hogtied you before stuffing you into his trunk and driving off. The journal you kept in your pocket fell out in the trunk.

His house was several miles outside of town. It was a long drive, long enough for you to regain consciousness, but that’s what your binds were for.

You were understandably terrified and disoriented. You had not even seen who had grabbed you, and they hadn’t spoken either, so you had no idea who had nabbed you or what they wanted.

When the car finally stopped, you heard your attacker snicker after opening the trunk. You redoubled your efforts to break free of your binds. But the rope that held you was too sturdy for that. Your abductor picked you up with some effort and quickly carried you into a building. You could only tell because the air changed and the sound of the door closing behind you.

You began screaming and shrieking into your gag, but succeeded only in hurting your own throat. Even if the screams had not been muffled by the cloth gagging your mouth, there were no other houses within earshot of you. And this wasn’t an area with any traffic either. Will had thought this all out.

You heard the rattling of chains and felt the cold touch of a metal collar around your neck. He rummaged through your pockets to take your phone, then your clothing was peeled away, and the binds around your arms replaced with handcuffs restraining your arms painfully behind you. The gag muffling your screams was removed, and you began sobbing pleas for your freedom.

The last thing taken from you was the blindfold. You stared up in confusion, not believing for a moment who you saw. Will, looking down at you with insane erratic green eyes and a smile that left a chill on your very soul. His medium length brown hair was unkempt, adding to the terrifying visage before you.

“Wha..? Will… Plea-!!”

You were interrupted by a sharp slap to the face that made your eyes water.

“Shut the fuck up! I am the one talking here. You don’t get to manipulate me with your smug words… I have been waiting so long to put you in your place. I think we should commemorate the moment!”

The unhinged man rummaged in a drawer until he pulled out a camera and took a few pictures of your sorry state. He put the camera away and produced a sharp knife from his pocket which he then held up to your oh so delicate throat. You sobbed more fervently.

“Aw, you’re crying already? We haven’t even gotten to the fun yet! We need to pace ourselves.”

His breathing was heavy. Like he was infusing his sadistic desires into the air with each breath he pulled into his lungs.

“Let’s make one thing clear from the start, if you try to escape or fight back, I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”

You nodded shakily. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. Even if he didn’t have the knife, he was still a very fit man.

“I am just SO excited… What should we do first… What will show I am better than you?”

As he sat down on the edge of a large bed a few feet from you and mumbled to himself you finally had a chance to catch your breath and try to calm the slightest bit down while you took in your foreign surroundings. You were in a neat, sparsely furnished room that appeared to be a basement. You were chained by the neck to a pole that was behind you. Only a scratchy blanket separated your bare skin from the cold concrete below. The bed he was on looked out of place, as if it had recently been moved down here, but it was clearly not for you.

“I know!”

Will walked up to you and pulled out his erect cock, evidently excited by having you under his control. He pressed the head of the thick appendage against your lips while smiling maniacally down at you in the same way that he had before, his meaning clear.

“Well hurry and get started then. And if you bite I think you know what will happen.”

Your jaw ached as you sucked him clumsily. It was rather large and you were rather inexperienced. It didn’t help that your hands were unavailable to help you grip the shaft to speed up the process. As he got closer and closer to orgasm he became more forceful. First humping into your mouth steadily and eventually gripping each side of your head hard and violently fucking your face until you thought you were going to pass out.

“You better not spill any!”

Finally he slammed down your throat, pressing your nose into his curly pubes, and came hard. You gagged but managed to swallow it all as he pulled out.

“Fuck. Maybe you were made to suck my cock. That was the best nut I think I have ever had. Don’t forget to clean it.”

After gasping for a moment you licked his cock clean of cum and saliva and he put it back in his pants. You had fantasized about doing things with him, but never like this.

You sobbed and asked why he was doing this, and he immediately put a stop to it by punching you in the gut, leaving you reeling.

“I still don’t want to hear your bitching.”

“You should know why. This is what you get for always looking down on me and having everyone convinced that you’re so great!”

He got in bed before continuing.

“You always thought you could compete with me, make people think you were better, outdoing me. But now you know you’re beneath me. I don’t know about you but I am tired from all the excitement, I need rest.”

Sleep did not come easily for you as painfully restrained as you still were, but eventually, you silently sobbed yourself into a state of unconsciousness. It was a fitful rest, one plagued by nightmares.

You awoke to the sight of Will leering down at you.

"Hey, sleeping beauty! I’m off this weekend, so we will have the next couple of days all to ourselves. I wanted more time, but I couldn’t take vacation right as you went missing. So we'll just have to make the best of it.”

Your lip quivered in fear of the horrors Will had in store for you. It was a warranted response. He started the day by having you gag on his morning wood and licking his nuts and dick clean of the cum that dribbled down them when he came.

You got smacked for spilling a drop, but it wasn’t as brutal as your treatment the night before.

Then he decided that you needed a shower so he hosed you down with cold water in the basement’s bathroom, the chilling concrete room had a drain in the floor making it a very convenient location for Will to torment you in as he did not need to worry about flooding. The concrete exasperated the chill. While the water was still running he took a moment to further degrade you by whipping out his half-hard cock and taking his morning piss all over you.

After that he noticed you sobbing silently again, your naked form shivering with anxiety, fear, and of course the bitter cold.

“Awe, are you crying like a little girly? Maybe you should be dressed like one then…”

A light bulb seemed to go off in your abuser’s mind.

“Hey, give me a minute!”

He tied you back up painfully before leaving abruptly. He came back with a maid outfit from a costume store down the street, it was October so it was open for Halloween.

"You look like such a slut in that, like the filthy whore you are."

You continued looking away in shame and humiliation.

"I bet you have a cunt like a girl's too. Bet you want to get railed by a real man."

"Stop it Will! A-anything but that! Please... I'm sorry!!"

That only pissed him off.

"You're not making the demands here slut!" He smacked you hard across the face, causing you to yelp.

"And you're not sorry yet... but you will be..."

He dragged you over and tossed you on the bed. You were shaking, crying into the pillowless mattress. You wanted to run but were terrified of what he would do. He was much stronger than you.

You heard the sound of him undoing his belt and pulling down his pants.

He spit on his cock and rubbed it to full length. Just enough lube so he could enter you. Not enough to do anything to bring you comfort.

The mattress sank with his additional weight as he got on. He positioned you with your ass up and moved the skirt of the maid outfit to show off your ass. You sobbed more. What had you done to deserve this? Had you hurt him somehow? Had he mistaken something someone else did for your own actions?

Will gripped your hips, nails biting into your flesh. He pulled you back hard and thrust forward at the same time. It felt like fire. His cock split your ass brutally and you screamed as loudly as you could. Will smirked. Music to his ears.

"Don't pretend that you don't want it. This is what fags like you are made for!"

A smack echoed as he slapped your ass but you didn't even register it beneath the all consuming pain of him violating you in such a brutal manner.

Will kept slamming into you over and over. Pulling out almost fully each time before thrusting back in as hard as he could. When he saw blood on his cock it only encouraged him. It wasn't like Will was into blood or anything. He wasn't really a sadist at all under normal circumstances, but he certainly was when it came to you. He was finally putting the trash that mocked and looked down on him in his place. The blood, tears, and choked sobs of pain were just evidence of that.

It felt like the violation was going on for an eternity. The burning pain was unrelenting as he mocked and teased you the whole time. You didn't even know he was talking anymore, and due to straining your voice, you could no longer scream. Will finally drove into you deeply and came hard. He stayed in a moment and let his cock twitch and pulse cum into you. He had totally owned you.

But when his anger ebbed away and he pulled out he saw the blood stained cum flow out of your abused hole. He saw your shaking crying form gripping the sheets tightly. He heard your ragged, uneasy breaths. He knew you were having a panic attack.

What was wrong? This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? To break you. But now that he had, he could only stare in horror at what he had done to you. Even if you had snubbed your nose at him and thought yourself superior, this wasn't a proportional response. Nothing could justify... this...

Will cleaned himself off haphazardly and pulled his pants back up. Then he removed the clothing from your body and picked you up.

He had to make things better.

You weren't aware of your surroundings. You had mostly withdrawn into your own mind. You kept mumbling that you were sorry over and over into his chest.

"No, no, no. Shhh. Don't be. I'm sorry. I'm the bad one... Shit, I'm so sorry..."

His words went past your ears, and you continued your chant-like apology over and over and over. Your brain just couldn't accept that someone could hate you so much without you having done something to deserve it.

Tears threatened to roll down his face, but he wouldn't let them. It was his fault. He wasn't the victim here.

Why had he done this? Because of some childish rivalry that may have only been in his head? No, he couldn't accept that it was in his head. Not yet. He couldn't just let go of the years of animosity towards you he had been harboring. But... still... he obviously took things way too far...

Will drew a bath and placed you in it gently. A stark contrast to how he had treated you up until this point. He washed you carefully, meticulously cleaning the wounds he had inflicted to prevent infection.

You slumped against the tub, eyes staring at nothing, as he washed you of all the filth and blood he had marred you with.

The rest of the weekend passed, and you had scarcely improved. You still muttered apologies and could manage to use the restroom on your own, but he had to feed you himself.

He didn't know what he was going to do. He hadn't actually planned on what to do when he was done brutalizing you. He couldn't just let you leave. There was no way he was going to prison. If he did, you'd be dumped in some psych ward and forgotten about.

He no longer needed the pictures he had taken to blackmail you as you were practically catatonic anyway. You couldn't care for yourself in this state at all.

Your abductor refused to leave you there while he returned to work, and without you 6 had no reason to go back anyway. He had been worried that it would be suspicious if the two of you disappeared on the same day, but he had your phone and just had to make up a scenario that would keep people away. Neither of you were particularly close to anyone, so it wouldn't be difficult.

The excuse he gave was that the two of you were going to move back to your hometown and get high paying jobs working for your father. He figured he could take care of you himself for a week or two while he got things worked out with his dad. Then he could take you with him to a new house there and hire a discrete caretaker to watch you while he was at work.

During the time before the move Will would sometimes get fed up with you and have to catch himself before he screamed or accused you of faking to guilt trip him.

As the week went on, he even caught himself thinking it was a bit cute when you were sleeping while he held you. He had to remind himself constantly that even though he went way too far, you were still in the wrong somewhat for how you had acted.

And then, while he was cleaning his trunk to pack your belongings he had retrieved from your place, he found your journal in his trunk and its contents finally got through to him. It detailed your crush on him and how you thought he must have one on you because of how he behaved towards you. It went on about your thoughts and feelings about your coworkers and all your interactions with them, including all the kind things you went out of your way to do to make them all happy.

It was obvious to him now that you were a real-life cinnamon roll. Part of the reason people liked you was because they could exploit your kindness, and they clearly had. And he had done far worse than that.

There was only one thing he could possibly do to even begin to make things right. He wasn't into men like you were, but he would be your boyfriend and eventual husband.

He would also make you his assistant at his new job so he could watch over you personally. It wasn't like he had to devote much time to work. He had an upper management position and could delegate most tasks. You had begun to do more basic things for yourself when directed so you could eat and sit and look busy so no one would suspect anything.

Eventually, after months of delicate, tender care, you were able to speak more and think properly again. Though you were still a nervous mess occasionally plagued by vivid nightmares that replayed what you had experienced. You never dared trying to escape. The lessons of obedience you had learned your first days with Will had been ingrained deeply within your psyche. And with your newfound anxiety, you couldn't really take care of yourself completely alone. You were dependent on him for employment.

Well, at least your boyfriend treated you kindly by that point. As if you were a porcelain doll that would crumble to dust under the slightest mean gaze.

In fact, rude employees had been fired for even shooting you a glare. And when there was a jealous bitch that had mean words to say about his darling assistant and lover? Some hired goons provided her with a broken nose one dark night.

When Will announced his engagement to you, his father objected because of your lower status and humble origins. He screamed at you directly accusing you of being a gold digging whore unworthy of his son. You curled up in the corner of the room, crying and trembling. Soon after that his father came down with a terrible case of sudden onset poisoned to fucking death with an untraceable toxin that gave him a stroke, a common enough cause of death for a man of his age.

Will wouldn't let anything threaten or hurt you. And if that meant his dad had to die, then so be it. You were his responsibility. But beyond that, what had started with him taking accountability for his actions towards you had slowly evolved into genuine love and care for you.

It took a long time, but eventually, your feelings towards him evolved into love, too. You would always be a little broken, a little fearful of him, but he was the only person you really had, he had isolated you thoroughly and was constantly in your presence, so it was inevitable that you'd start to see him in a better light.

[reiderwriter]

😝 brain rot from my character ai scenario… the team goes out to a bar to celebrate and you wear a tiny little dress (just to rile him up obvi) but you also end up attracting a lot of male attentionand he gets SO jealous and protective of you he’s like sitting off to the side just watching you flirt with everyone and the team is like “he looks like hes gonna explode wtf” and then the SMUT HES ALL “they can’t have you, you’re all mine” “you really like all the attention huh? i’ll give you what you wanted” OMG it’s making me crazy i hope i described it good enough 🥰🥰

A/N: Is it really a reiderwriter smut if I don't have to clarify that 'I got carried away' at some point in the authors note? No, it is not. Thank you for the request. My brain is now equally rotted, oops.

Warnings: complaints, dirty talk, semi public sexual activity, partial voyeurism, fingering, hard/rough sex.

You weren't even dating.

Which made the situation even more frustrating for Spencer, and even more exciting for you. 

You'd always flirted with the man a lot, had been told multiple times to knock it off even after getting a little too close for comfort on a case. 

But you couldn't really blame yourself on that one. You'd had to do a quick takedown at a dive bar, and you'd been tasked with pretending to be a touchy couple at the bar to block the back entrance at the staff entrance. 

You'd draped yourself all over him, allowing yourself to get closer than you'd ever been before. 

If you'd just happened to let your hands fall down to his crotch, it was pure coincidence. So was giving his obviously erect length a few strokes through his jeans as he sat staring at you like you were his last meal and he was back in prison. 

Emily had to pull you aside after that one personally. 

You knew she was protective of Spencer, seeing him as a little brother, but it seemed like she was more protective of you at that moment. 

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” She'd asked, waiting carefully for your answer before she said anything more. 

Two could play at that game. “What is this concerning?” 

“With Spencer.” 

“I'm not sure what you mean, Emily.”

“Yes, you do. Listen, I don't care what you get up to in your personal life, but Spencer has a way of making others feel very… seen. He can get protective and pushy. And I just want to know you're ready for that, and you're not going to let it affect your work.”

“Is Spencer having the same talk?” 

She laughed at that. 

“Spencer? No. I already know it's going to affect his work, because it has since you joined our team. He still gets his job done, but I know where his priorities would lie if there were an emergency.” 

You'd shivered at that and excused yourself. 

If he was that obsessed with you, why had he not told you? Stepped over that line from friends to more than that?

You needed to force the issue, and you had the perfect opportunity when Penelope invited you out for drinks. 

“Y/N! Don't go, it's Friday night, we-” she said gesturing wildly to the team gathered around you, “are going to a bar. No, you can't rain check either.” 

“Can I at least get changed first?” 

“You need to get changed. We're going to a nice bar, Y/N.” Running off again to grab the rest of your team members and force their attendance, you grinned after Penelope. 

It was time to see exactly how focused on you Spencer Reid was.

And how willing he was to let you slip through his fingers.

An hour later, you were stepping out of your taxi, pulling your skirt down as you did. The short black dress had a terrible habit of pulling up your thighs to flash your underwear at anyone in a 10 foot radius. Usually, that bothered you, but tonight, you planned on using it to your advantage. 

After all, you'd left out the underwear tonight for a reason. 

Pulling your jacket around you tighter, you pushed the door to the bar open and scanned the room for your team members. 

“Y/N, over here!” Tara called you over, nursing a beer. Luke sat next to her, Penelope on his other side, and Matt on hers and completing the group was Spencer Reid. 

“Where are JJ and Emily?” You asked, doing your very best to ignore Spencer as you sat down next to him, practically falling into his warmth. You sat so close to him. 

“At the bar. Emily is convinced she can flirt her way to a free drink, and JJ is convinced she cannot. The girl she's working on now has to be 22 at most, so it could honestly go either way.” Penelope answered, and you felt Spencer shift slightly beside you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Luke said as the two women approached. 

“Well? What's the result?” You grinned up at them, letting your head fall back against Spencer’s shoulder as you gently rested your hand on his thigh. He sat silently for a minute, not moving and just taking in the conversation. 

“I've still got it.” Emily grinned triumphantly. 

“Maybe I should give it a try. There are a few hot male bartenders tonight. Who knows, I might score more than just a drink.” 

Spencer choked on the drink he was sipping as you spoke quickly, a few knowing looks passing between every other person at the table. You'd have to be blind to miss it. Or Spencer. 

“Spencer, are you okay? You should be careful, I wouldn't want you to choke. That's how I want to end my night, but it's not for everyone.” That one earned you a few snickers from the others and a glare from the man himself. 

“I'm fine, thank you, Y/N.” He smiled down at you and gave your knee a friendly tap that turned slightly less friendly as he pushed it further up your leg. 

The others had since averted their attentions, moving their conversation onto other things, but you and Spencer were still stuck in each other's orbits. 

Your heart beat faster until you were sure it could be seen, raw and fit to burst out of your chest. His fingertips brushed your hem. He was seconds away from realising that you were going to get the attention you wanted that night. 

Slipping just an inch up the hem, he twitched almost imperceptibly as he searched for your panty line, brows knitting when he couldn't find it. 

“What's wrong, Spencer? Searching for something that isn't there?” You enjoyed watching his frown deepen as he registered your words, but you enjoyed it even more when you gently pushed his hand away as you stood. 

“Well, I need a drink. Let's hope I can recreate your success, Emily.” You said, finally pushing off your jacket. The dress may have been short, but it was also low cut, burning the candle at both ends as your breasts threatened to spill over with any particularly deep breath. 

“Sweet lord in heaven! You didn't come to play tonight.” Penelope exclaimed, practically applauding your body as you twirled for her and showed off the form fitting dress, giggling all the way. 

“You said it was a nice bar, Penelope. I'm hoping there are also some very nice men here, too.” With a wink, you turned on your heel and strode to the bar, making sure your hips swung seductively with every step. 

You couldn't immediately give in and turn to see if he was watching you when you got to the bar, though, not willing to give him the satisfaction. You were doing it all for him, but you still didn't want him to know that.

It didn't take long for men to swarm you. They came one at a time, and you entertained them each as you waited for your unnecessarily complex cocktail order to be prepared. 

In the 7 minutes you'd been away from the table, you'd been approached by three separate men. They all tried lines on you, gave you their numbers and tried their best to woo you, but with Spencer’s eyes burning across your body as you leaned against the bar, you really couldn't have cared less. 

Still, you leaned in, giggled in the appropriate places, and took the numbers, knowing they'd never be called.

When your cocktail was finally ready, and the last one offered to fund it for you  You finally felt a hand at your back. 

“That won't be necessary, thank you.” Spencer ended the conversation, handing his own card over to the bartender as he kept his hand on your back, his body crowding yours. 

The man walked away in defeat, and you turned on him, sipping your drink as you refused to move away.

“Now why ruin all my fun, Spencer?” 

“You're really enjoying all this attention, huh?” He said, pushing your hair behind your ear as he leaned closer to you, his next word a whisper against your skin.

“I can see your pussy from all the way back there,” he said, tugging down your skirt slightly. You weren't surprised though  simply taking another sip and maintaining eye contact. 

“I know.” His hand, having slipped up to your waist, tightened as his gaze dropped to your lips. 

“You want everyone to see your dripping cunt? Want to let all the men here take a turn trying to catch your attention so they can slip in?” His voice was low, practically a growl as he licked his lips.

“No. I wanted to see how long it'd take you to come over and do it. By my count, that was eight minutes, correct?” 

“Good girl. Just remember that you're mine. I'm not letting anyone else have you.” Giving your face a gentle stroke, he let it trail down your body, subtly cupping and squeezing your chest on the way down. 

“All of a sudden, I feel very tired, Spencer. Take me home.” He wasted no time, grabbing your hand and gathering you up, your jacket and bag collected from the desk as he gave minimal answers to the others as you departed. To their credit, they asked minimal questions. 

The cold air hit you hard as you pushed the doors open again, but Spencer was unperturbed, pulling you over to his car silently, a strong hand on your shoulder helping you into the passenger's seat.

You dare not talk the entire drive to his apartment, so sure that any word from you would have him turning immediately to deposit you right back at the bar. 

He didn't, though, but he also didn't look at you or touch you. You sat squirming at the heavy atmosphere, suddenly desperate to know exactly what thoughts were trapped inside Spencer’s impressive brain. 

“We're here.” He announced, pulling up quickly and cutting the engine, climbing out in a hurry. 

You fumbled with your own seat belt as he pulled your door open, catching you up in his arms as he closed the door behind you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him carry you up the stairs to his apartment.

His lips didn't meet yours until the door was firmly closed and locked behind you, and even then, he didn't immediately dive in. He out you down, and a touch of disappointment flooded your body as he completely entangled himself from you. 

It dissipated completely when his hand wrapped around your throat. 

“Let me be clear, Y/N. You are mine. If you want attention, I will give it to you. If you want to choke on something, I'm more than happy to provide it. If you want to dress like a little whore, go ahead, but don't forget who your sweet little cunt belongs to.” His fingers tightened with each word as you gasped for air, back resting on the nearest wall as his body pressed up along your own. 

“Do you understand?” He asked, and you nodded repeatedly, fast and desperate. 

“Good. Now, ass up on the bed. I'll meet you there.” You practically sprinted to the room in question, slinking up onto the bed. He said ass up, but you hesitated slightly as he quietly shut the bedroom door behind you, just long enough to earn a slap on your ass as he finally returned to your side. 

“You have to listen, Y/N. You wanted this, so you have to listen nicely.” 

“I'm sorry, Spencer, it won't happen aga-” He stole the end of your sentence as he slipped his fingers into you, gently working the two longest ones up into a frenzy as he finger fucked you. 

“Sorry, what was that? I don't think I quite caught your words.” You could only moan in reply as you buried your head in his pillows, ass pressing back into his fingers to help him get deeper.

“So needy. Look at this little black dress. You knew this was going to happen, right?” A third finger slipped inside you, and you screamed out in pleasure as he continued using you.

“Burying your head isn't going to work, Y/N. Your cunt is answering for you.” 

You heard the rattle of his belt unbuckling as his fingers finally slipped out, the emptiness only a relief for a second before his cock was hitting deep inside of you. 

Thoughts escaped you as you finally got what you'd been begging for for weeks. His every frustration was pounded into you as he tugged at your hair, pulling your torso up so he could hit even deeper. 

Pulling back your head with a hand on your throat he laid a barrage of kisses across your upper back and shoulders, making sure to bite and suck and nip as his spare hand toyed with your nipples, pinching and pulling. 

In a second, you reached your climax, not having the breath left in you to let him know before you tightened on his shaft and let your body fall limp under his hands. 

“I'm going to mop up our cum with this dress, Y/N, and then I'm going to make you put it back on.” With a final grunt, he pulled out, jerking his cock through his release as he shot his load right over your pussy lips. 

He collapsed on top of you, and you finally gave up your last bit of strength beneath him, enjoying the pressure of his weight pushing down on you again. 

“Thank god that worked,” you gasped, catching your breath. You smiled as he flipped you over and pulled the dress off your head, true to his word. 

“What worked, Y/N?” 

“This. You don't know the lengths I'd have gone to to get you yo finally fuck me if this hadn't worked.” 

“But suddenly, I'm curious, and I have all the time in the world.” You laughed lightly but snuggled into his chest again, meaning to sleep. 

“Unless you want to get dressed again now…?” 

[tinyarsonist]

Love, Love

"For you? In a heartbeat."

Summary: You live your past and future when a one-night stand with Changbin turns into an unplanned pregnancy.

TW: NonIdol!Changbin, Fem!Reader, strangers x lovers, pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, implied pregnancy sex, blow job, cunnilingus, pet names (bunny, bin, mommy, daddy)(but not in the way you think I swear), let me know if I missed anything!

MDNI 18+ ONLY

Past in italics. Future in bold. Rest in present.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

You scream as you feel another rip of pain flash through you. The doctors and nurses crowded around you, encouraging you to keep going. That it’ll all be worth it. Everything you ever dreamed of, waiting to be wrapped up in a blanket and handed off to be cradled in your arms. But that’s the thing--this isn’t what you dreamed of.

Changbin was supposed to be the one by your side. Holding your hand, and trying to keep up a strong appearance for your sake while freaking out all the same on the inside. He was supposed to be your rock.

But he wasn’t here.

You grip the hospital bed bar and yell out again in pain. You somehow knew that you were still nowhere near where you were supposed to be.

Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Whatever you wanted to call it. 

You weren’t ready.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” You whispered. Changbin sat close to you on the bed. Both of you were looking at that little blue stick that would forever change your lives. It was supposed to be just for one night. One night where the two of you forgot about the rest of the world. Heavy drinking, flirting with strangers at a club. No stress about work, family, or friends. The only thing that mattered was what happened on the same sheets you were sitting on. That was the plan, and the two of you conveniently found one another to forget about life with.

The night was one of the best nights you’ve ever had. Since the two of you had the notion of never seeing each other ever again; there was no reservation when you led him out of the bar and into your apartment. As soon as the door closed, Changbin pushed you against the wall and stripped you of your clothes all in one go. As he was preoccupied with you, you unbuckled his belt and freed his erection from its restraint. Essentially, being pushed on your knees, your lips instantly wrapped around him as he held your head in place and thrusted.

As he laid your head against the wall, he wasted no time in using you to chase his own pleasure. You relaxed your throat as much as you could, tears welling in your eyes from the slight sting but relishing in every movement. Changbin loved the way your makeup ran down your face. Nothing but moans and the sloppy sounds of your mouth echoing around the room. “That’s it. All the way, bunny.”

The rest of the night was history.

When you started feeling off a couple of weeks after, you decided to take a test, just to be on the safe side. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the result on the tiny pregnancy test window.

“How are ‘you going to do this’?” Changbin took his eyes off the test to stare at your profile. It wasn’t exactly the way he imagined his life to take. To be honest it scared him when he got your call, saying you needed to speak with him about something urgently, after not contacting him again after that night. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I’m keeping it…” You look up and turn to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to be around for it--I know that’s asking a lot. A-and I don't expect money or anything, but I did want you to know. It felt like you needed to know and--”

You stopped your rambling as his hand lightly covered yours as you held onto the test. “You're not doing this alone,” he grumbled despite his gentle caress. “I want to make this clear--it's our baby. I'm with you every step of the way.”

Your shoulder relaxed in relief as the two of you shared this moment together. The grip of the test in your hand slightly tightening. 

You howled as another contraction rips through you, your hands finding the sidebars of the hospital bed and clutching on so tightly your knuckles turned white. A nurse dabbed a wet cloth on your face as your body fell back into bed, trying to regain some form of strength for the next round.

“I can't do this. I can't do this,” you sobbed to yourself as the nurse kept trying to calm you down.

“You're almost there,” she cooed. “Your husband will--”

“He's not---agghhh!” You lurch forward as another wave rips through you. Your hair was plastered across your face from the sweat of being in labor for half the day. “He's not my husband!”

By your second trimester, you and Changbin were essentially conjoined at the hip. He meant about being there every step of the way. 

Changbin gave you no room to argue when he mentioned he was moving into your apartment and out of his shared apartment with Chan and Jisung. “How else am I supposed to help you?”

Every middle of the night craving for olives with strawberry ice cream, Changbin got up from your shared bed with no complaints to run to the nearest convenience store. Which was so often enough, that the store owner always hid the items for you whenever they were running low.

“Remind me to send Mr. Kim a fruit basket,” you said with a mouthful of olives as your spoon held a glob of strawberry ice cream. Changbin sat next to you on the couch as the late-night show glow filled the dark living room. He laid his head on your shoulder and snuggled against you. His eyes rested from the lack of sleep, but still forced himself to stay up in case you needed anything else.

“Don't. That kid of his, Seungmin, will probably eat it all before he could even find it.” Changbin grumbled. Chuckling, you placed your cheek on the top of his head as you took a bite of your snack.

Changbin smiled warmly as he felt you move closer to him. He pried open his eyes and placed a hand on your growing belly, remembering when you would fight him at first whenever he would do so. But now? Now, it felt weird to not have him holding you in some form.

“Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?” 

“If you want to know the sex, we can always ask the doctor.” You chuckle as Changbin shook his head and sits up a bit so he could look at you. His hand never moving from its rightful place on your belly. 

“Absolutely not! Then it won't be a surprise!”

“I think having this baby is enough of a surprise as is.”

The two of you laugh at your comment and Changbin can't help but bring you closer. You rested your cheek against his chest as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. Changbin giggled as you still somehow managed to take another bite of your ice cream while still in his snug hold. The TV continued playing on. Soon a skit of an unplanned pregnancy played, all characters frantically running around trying to organize a shot-gun wedding.

“Do…do you think we should get married?”

Changbin stiffened at your question. But not for the reason you thought. He toyed around with the idea for some time. Tension between his family was a bit rough ever since he told them the news, especially between his father and him. Not only that--he couldn’t help but feel this tug to you now that the two of you agreed to be in this partnership together. Everything felt right. Like he belonged. It would’ve been easier to propose; to him, his family, and the child you two were bringing into this world.

But would it be for you?

“I don’t want you marrying me, because you have to.”

Your head shot up. Did that mean he’s thought about it? Did that mean this relationship was more than platonic just for the baby’s sake? Your heart pounded at the closeness of you two. “But you would…you would marry me if I wanted to?”

Changbin lowered his head a bit so his lips could hover just above yours. 

“Only if you wanted to.”

Fear set in Changbin’s heart as he ran through the airport. He got your multiple voicemails. Each becoming more and more panicked than the last, as soon as his plane touched down. The baby wasn’t due for another week. He thought he had more time.

Changbin was cursing himself under his breath as he pushed past the crowd. Scolding himself for taking on that account when he should’ve been with you. “It’ll be fine she said,” Changbin flagged down a cab. “You’ll have time, she said.”

He knew it was unfair to blame you. You couldn’t control the weather, let alone when you went into labor.

When the cab came to a standstill due to bump-to-bumper traffic, Changbin wasted no time rushing out of the vehicle and booking it towards the hospital. Dodging any incoming cars that were trying to beat the traffic. He was sweating by the time he reached the front desk, desperately asking what room you were in. “Room 325,” the station nurse said. Watching as he frantically ran towards the direction she pointed in.

Finally reaching your door, Changbin’s hand hesitated before pulling down on the handle.

This was it. The past 8 months were drawing to a close. Where did that leave the two of you? Would you want him out of the apartment by the time the baby’s sleeping schedule was set? Did all the late-night talks and surprise breakfast-in-bed mornings come to an end?

Changbin didn’t have time to let his thoughts spiral out of control as the nurse inside the room opened the door for him. “Oh,” she jumped a bit at his presence. “Are you the husband?”

“I’m not…” Changbin stopped himself and just nodded. The nurse gave him a smile before opening the door to let him through. Offering her congratulations before leaving the three of you alone.

You sat on the hospital bed, swaddling this new love you brought into the world close to your chest. Your back slightly turned away from Changbin as he took small steps toward you, his face dropping a bit.

“I missed it?”

You turn your head slightly and smile at him. “You’re here.”

“Of course,” Changbin sat next to you on the bed. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you to lean back into his chest. His head pressed against yours as he closed his eyes. Just having you in his arms was enough to chase the fears away. “Pretty sure I caused a car crash on the way over, but I didn’t want to miss it.”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” You shifted a bit to reveal the tiny figure in your arms. Changbin’s eyes widen as he stares down at your shared creation. They instantly softened as love filled his entire body. “Would you like to meet your daughter?”

Having the little one in his arms for the first time was nerve-racking. Once his gaze locked on the sleeping babe, his confidence filled a bit. He felt your head rest on his shoulder as the two of you stared in awe. “We made this,” his voice was but a whisper. At this moment Changbin knew what he wanted. He didn’t want this to end. The three of you were meant to live out your lives together, and he didn’t want to let go of that. “I--”

You already knew where this was going. You felt it too. Everything was set perfectly, despite the both of your run-down expressions. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You cut him off with a gentle kiss. When the two of you parted the words flowed out of your mouth without any thought. 

“Marry me?”

Changbin’s forehead pressed against yours; “In a heartbeat.” 

“I’m serious, Bin!” You laugh as the two of you attempted to put together a nursery room in your spare bedroom. Changbin was getting frustrated trying to put the cradle together. How in the hell was this long stick supposed to fit in this pocket?! “You’re reading the direction wrong! Here let me help.”

“Ah, ah!” Changbin playfully slapped your hand away. “Let Daddy take care of it.”

You knew he didn’t mean it in that way, but you couldn’t help but feel the heat spread throughout your body. “You can’t say things like that…”

Nothing could happen. You were about ready to pop. Feet swelling up so much, Changbin had to give them a massage every day after work just so you were able to walk. Despite all of that, Changbin put down the piece he was holding and gave you a knowing look. “Oh?” He grinned. “Why is that, bunny?”

He leaned in close enough to guide you to lie down gently on the floor. Soft kisses were placed on your neck and collarbone. Careful to not put any pressure on your belly. You sighed happily at the attention. Guess it’s true what they say about the raging hormones. “You’d really have sex with a pregnant lady?”

“With you? In a heartbeat.”

“Told you we’d have a girl,” Changbin smiled as he held your daughter in his arms. Taking in everything he could to forever grave this memory in his head. As if it would be that easy to forget this day; the birth of his daughter and engagement to you.

“Guess I lost that bet,” you laugh. Your fingers gently caress her cheek. “Look, she has your dimple!”

Your daughter cooed in her sleep, showing off that famous indent on her cheek. Already showing off the Seo smile. Changbin grinned; “What should we name her?”

“We gotta hurry,” Changbin said breathlessly as he stripped off his shirt and crawled on the bed towards you. You laid on your satin sheets, already naked and ready for the taking. “My girl is already questioning where I ran off to. She’ll get suspicious soon.”

“You know,” you moan as his lips latch onto your nipple. “We wouldn’t have to keep up this charade if you just--”

You couldn’t finish your thought as his hand slotted itself between your legs. Wasting no time in playing with your folds, as he usually does, and inserts two fingers to stretch you out. His pace was almost relentless, his hand covering your mouth as your moans started to get louder and louder. “Hush, bunny.”

The four years since the birth of your daughter have only spurred on your sex life with Changbin. Even though you knew he had another woman close to his heart. But you had to admit, there was something exciting about sneaking away for a quickie.

Changbin released his hold on your mouth and lowered himself down to your pussy. “Always so pretty,” he breathed against you. His lips instantly found your clit and kissed you in every way that you liked. That was the bright side to your getaways; he never wasted time on getting the job done.

“Bin, I’m--” 

Before you could finish, your sentence and your orgasm. A loud knock banged on your bedroom door. Hearing the voice muffled behind the door made you both groan. “Your other woman is requesting your presence,” you teased.

“Yea, yea.” Changbin pulled his fingers out of you and kissed you deeply before getting up to wash his hands quickly. You pulled the sheets over your naked body as he opened the door, revealing your adorable daughter holding a stuffed pink bunny. A pink bow dawned on her head as she looked up at Changbin. “Daddy, I wanna play dress up!”

“You wanna play dress up?” Changbin grinned as he picked her up and gave a peck on her cheek. “Okay, okay. Let’s go play. Say night to Mommy.”

You blow a kiss at your daughter as Changbin looks at you. The softness when looking at your daughter was replaced with a much darker expression as his eyes laid back on you. “You don’t do anything without me. Daddy will be back to play with you later.”

The question of naming your daughter hung in the room. Despite the many months of having time to plan, that seemed to be the only thing the two of you didn’t think about. The pink decorations hanging in the hospital hallway caught your attention before bringing it back to your new bundle of joy.

“Aera,” you smile. Changbin kissed Aera on her tiny head before placing one on your cheek. It was sweet seeing you get into the holiday spirit.

“Aera it is. Happy Valentine, bunny.”

“Happy Valentine, Bin.”

Note: This was made on the spot, so sorry if it isn't great 😭 I really wanted to post something for Valentine Day though and Changbin was the first one to come to mind. Guess I got bit by the love bug today 🩷

Aera is a Korean name that can roughly be translated/meaning to "Love"

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[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)

Word Count - 3k 

Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real. 

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut  

A/N -  im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me  

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.

Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound. 

“When did this happen?” 

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”  

“Any meds?” 

“Shot of adrenalin.” 

You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.   

Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members. 

The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital. 

The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.  

Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”. 

Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway. 

That was where you were right now. 

You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast. 

Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.   

You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him. 

“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm. 

He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.” 

You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?” 

He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.” 

You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.  

“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.  

You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”  

“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings. 

You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation,  “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”   

“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave. 

You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been. 

“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname. 

You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.  

“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.

“Just cold s’all.” 

He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown. 

“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you. 

He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”     

He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.” 

“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?” 

“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you. 

You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed. 

He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.” 

You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe. 

The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.  

Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.” 

He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission. 

The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him. 

In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say. 

There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price. 

As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.   

Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.” 

You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. 

Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him. 

Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.   

Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.   

The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.

 The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious. 

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble. 

In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something. 

Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream. 

Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself. 

You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left. 

He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off. 

You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes. 

Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion. 

You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck. 

It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything. 

You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.

The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums. 

You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.

Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage. 

You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.  

A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. 

Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight. 

Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering. 

The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.

Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.  

“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.  

Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. 

He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath. 

“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself. 

“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.

You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered. 

“You’re fine,” he repeated. 

“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.” 

Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.

Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre. 

As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage. 

“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding. 

You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan. 

Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again. 

Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.” 

You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.

Part 2 

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

[willowsnook]

hey i’ve been loving your bar prompts that you’ve written so far!

could i please get a martini glass of coke and rum?

thank you :)

thank you friend!

oscar piastri x stranger!reader

me and him? that's funny

-------------------------------------------------------

After an especially horrible day at work, you found yourself alone at a quiet bar nursing a glass of wine, half-watching the soccer game on TV. Your mind raced with thoughts of how much longer you could endure your job, given that your boss seemed to believe he was the center of the universe. So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man occupying the seat next to you, scrolling through his phone.

“I’m about to clock out. Can I close you guys out before I leave? Together, right?” The bartender’s voice snapped you out of your daze. You glanced at the guy beside you before shaking your head.

“Me and him? That’s funny,” you chuckled, waving off the idea and motioning for separate checks. The guy next to you frowned, looking genuinely confused.

“Why would that be funny?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

You blinked, surprised he even cared. “Aren’t you like... 18?”

He smirked, clearly amused. “I’m 23, actually.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

He gave a slight shrug, clearly enjoying your reaction. “No need to apologize. Though you literally look like you’re my age.”

“Uh, yeah… I’m 22,” you muttered, feeling a little sheepish.

The smirk on his face widened as he leaned back on his stool. “So, what brings you here tonight?”

“Bad day at work,” you said, grateful for the topic change. “What about you?”

“Same,” he admitted, holding up his glass. You clinked yours against his with a small smile.

“Have you lived in Monaco long?” you asked, noting that his accent was definitely from somewhere else.

“A couple of years. Moved here for work,” he replied. “How about you?”

“Same here, but I’m not complaining. It’s a beautiful place, and it’s quiet, which I like.”

“Not a fan of the busy life?”

“Not really into loud noises,” you said with a chuckle. He laughed too, a little too knowingly, as if he found something particularly amusing about that statement.

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself feeling lighter, your stressful day slipping further from your mind. You listened as he shared a bit about work, how he struggled with constantly being compared to a coworker and not knowing exactly how to act. You related to that feeling and appreciated how easily he opened up, especially to someone he’d just met.

Hours passed, and soon the bar was closing down. To your dismay, your new friend insisted on picking up the tab before you could argue.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” you grumbled as you both stepped outside.

“I wanted to,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t even know your name,” you pointed out, realizing how much time you’d spent talking without exchanging formalities.

“Oscar,” he said simply, offering a hand. You introduced yourself in return, your hand meeting his briefly.

“Well, Y/N, I’ve got to head back, but I had a good time tonight. Thanks for the company,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, you too. It was nice talking to you, Oscar.”

He lingered for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, if you ever have another bad day... maybe we’ll bump into each other here again.”

You smiled, feeling a little hopeful at the thought. “Maybe we will.”

He gave a small wave before heading off into the night, and you watched him go, feeling a sense of calm after the stressful day. The conversation had felt so natural, like two strangers simply enjoying each other's company.

When you got home, curiosity got the better of you. A quick search revealed his full name—Oscar Piastri. As you stared at the search results, you realized he was a rising star in Formula 1. The surprise made you laugh to yourself, thinking back on how casual the evening had been. No hints, no bragging, just a genuine, down-to-earth conversation with someone you had unexpectedly clicked with.

Maybe your bad day hadn’t been so bad after all.

[writing-for-marvel]

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

[theboyzism]

[ATEEZ] friends with benefits | mingi

➳ genre: smut/suggestive, very light angst-ish? (minors dni!) ➳ ficstyle: bulletpoints ➳ pairing: fwb! mingi x gn!reader ➳ warnings: friends with benefits relationship, very slight smut, dirty talk, jealousy, hint of angst pls let me know if there are any missing!

HOW IT STARTED

mingi was jealous

not just jealous but furious

he was not used to having competition

it's was the third time in the same week that yunho had left to go meet up with you, a regular occurrence by now

now while yunho and mingi didn't exactly have any plans for today, he certainly saw you as a threat, someone who made yunho ditch him

and he couldn't understand why yeosang, who was the only ateez member to have met you so far, liked you so much as well

yunho was quick to notice mingi's huff when your name left his lips

"you know you could just come with. give them a chance, i know you'd like them"

mingi was curious to meet you indeed

he wanted to give you a piece of his mind for stealing his best friend

but when he took yunho up on the offer he didn't expect to take an interest in you

contrary to his initial thought of you

he finally understood why yunho and yeosang liked you so much

instead of feeling annoyed whenever your name was mentioned

he now felt excited

the three of you quickly became a trio with the occasional yeosang a quadruple

but you know what they say about trios..

anyways

while yunho was down with a cold and nursed by seonghwa, mingi still decided to come over to your planned movie night

you liked mingi

maybe there was even a little bit of attraction from your side

but you two had never hung out alone before and it was super awkward now without yunho

the air got even more suffocating when a sex scene came on in the movie

mingi let out a cough while blushing, trying to look anywhere but at the tv or you

"it's just sex mingi" you chuckled, trying to overplay the awkwardness

while you didn't seem completely innocent, he blushed even harder at your words

the taunting tone of your words making him feel as if you were challenging him

turning to you, he raised his eyebrow

"so if it's just sex, you wouldn't mind doing the same with me?"

while you were definitely trying to rile him up, you didn't expect him to feed into your little game

"please, i doubt you could get me to cum as fast as she did, she seriously has no self-control" pointing at the tv you failed to notice mingi's eyes narrowing

and now you had done it

"you're on" was all he said before pulling you onto his lap

and so it became a regular thing

HOW IT WENT

you were doing it quite frequently

thanks to mingi's high sex drive

it was all about having fun

and during that time you two just got closer

eventually becoming extremely good friends

now neither of you told yunho

you just blamed your hanging out on being good friends, thanks to yunho

often when you'd hang out together, mingi would offer to take you home, while yunho already went back to the dorm

yunho didn't know when exactly he became a third wheel amongst his two best friends

let's just say that you two tried to not be obvious but you weren't exactly doing a the best job

mingi would love to explore sexually with you

trying all kind of new things

and he'd be so sweet too

i feel like he would spoil you with small gifts

"oh this little bunny keychain? it reminded me of you"

would always support you and listen to every word you say

except for the sneaking around

you could almost swear he was acting like your actual boyfriend

HOW IT ENDED

now everyone has their flaws

and one of mingi's was that he could get uncontrollably horny

while mingi had reassured you were alone at the dorms

you still felt it was extremely risky

promising to be quick and needing some sort of relief, mingi had already positioned himself

and as soon as he started thrusting himself into you

the worry in your brain had been replaced with pleasure

surprisingly it all seemed to go well

that was until you had put on your clothes and made your way into the living room, yunho sitting on the couch, waiting for you two

yes he knew for quite some time now

and while he didn't really care cause it's not his business

he had a problem with both of his friends lying to him

and honestly he felt left out in the friendship

you thought mingi and you were on the same page

however that table turned when yunho asked if it was just a fwb thing or if there was more

while you were confident to say that it is just sex

mingi was not

staring at him wide-eyed, yunho took the cue to leave, excusing himself

"what the hell do you mean with 'it is not just sex'?"

mingi could always read your emotions well

except for this time

"shit y/n, i cannot lie to him or to you"

when you just looked at him, mouth still parted in shock, he walked over to you, closing the gap

"you think i didn't fall in love with you? i want us to date, i want to be your boyfriend y/n"

you could feel your stomach twist

you didn't want to hurt him

but you simply didn't feel the same way

turning him down must've been one of the hardest things in your life

the way you saw him cry for the first time

you blamed yourself more than anything

you should've noticed his feelings sooner

before it got too serious

that way you would've never broken his heart

if yunho wouldn't have been there to confront you two, how much longer would it have gone on?

while you were still close to yunho and after some suffering successfully made amends, your relationship to mingi was superficial, if even existing at this point

seeing him move on with someone else felt oddly painful

it made you feel jealous and hurt

you wanted mingi to be happy, you really did

but you just couldn't feel entirely happy for him, not when we was with someone else

while it felt like the little gifts he gave you were looming over you

the bunny keychain decorating your backpack

deciding to toss them into a box and into the deepest corner of your closet

no matter what you did or which methods you tried

you couldn't move on from him

deciding not to be the asshole that first rejected him and then wanted him back as soon as he got into a relationship

you never told anyone how you felt

simply swallowing your pain

unbeknownst to the fact that he wanted you just as much

[itsabouttimex2]

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

[elfieafterdark]

Pyrrha Dve hasn't ever been a perfect woman, let alone a perfect person. Her mid-twenties weren't exactly spent at her best.

She had a few nasty habits, and a decent enough job to fuel them. Smoking, womanizing, and of course, drinking.

That last one was how she ended up at this hospital, sitting there all uncomfortably in the middle of the night. Fidgeting with her big hands, unable to fully sit still but lacking anything actionable to do.

She had, remarkably, fallen asleep at some point. The nurses kept telling her she could go home, they'd handle it, and she just kept staying.

What was she supposed to do? Leave the kid? Not an option.

It's gotta be morning by now. Caught in this in between place, with all the beeping and the noise. She can't even remember finding the kid, not really.

She just remembered showing up at the hospital with the kid.

She couldn't take it anymore, she finally flagged down a nurse, and asked, "how's the kid doing?" The nurse, who had started her shift at some point recently, judging by the significantly reduced bags under her eyes, was infinitely patient.

Once she knew what Pyrrha was talking about, she happily led her to the infant. Same as before, same as when she found her... Just, more tubes. Tubes and wires connected to the little baby.

"She's a little trooper. Aren't you sweetie?" The nurse asks, and the little baby coos. Pyrrha stared at the infant, at her dark skin, at her little tuft of red hair, at her golden eyes.

"What's with all the hardware?"

"Heart and oxygen monitors," explains the nurse, letting the baby grab one of her fingers as she talks, "We've also got her on TPN, that's total parent nutrition by the way." She added before Pyrrha could ask, "Just making sure that she's okay. God damn though, I can't believe someone would leave her in a box on the side of the road."

"Is that what happened?"

"That's what you told us, yes." The nurse confirmed. The baby gurgled, looking around at this strange world and clearly finding her tiny self utterly perplexed by it.

"Jesus." Pyrrha said. The baby looked her way, then smiled and reached, though she lacked the fine motor skills to properly do so.

Pyrrha offered a finger, and the baby grabbed one. Something happened then, to Pyrrha Dve, something involving her heart, and that heart collapsing in on itself.

"What..." Her words were thick and slow to roll off the tongue, "What happens now?" The nurse grabs a clipboard and starts writing.

"Well, now CPS gets involved. They try and find her parents, though something tells me they won't succeed there."

"bahhh." The baby added, rather unhelpfully for poor Pyrrha's heart.

"And when they can't find her birth parents, she's going to go into foster care." The nurse continued. Pyrrha straightened her posture at that.

"And, if I wanted... I mean, is me... an option?" As if expecting it, the nurse brandished a piece of paper with a phone number and some basic instructions written on it.

"Give them a call, they can get you all the literature. You'll have to be evaluated of course, but, I think she likes you."

Pyrrha looked back at the baby, the baby whose birth parents abandoned her. Left her to literally die. Pyrrha's never been so glad that Mercy convinced her to walk home rather than take a cab, by way of stealing the cab with Augustine and driving off without her.

"Hey kiddo." Pyrrha tried, and found it not unpleasant to say. "Uh, you got a good grip."

"Ahhh." Said the baby.

"Yeah," Pyrrha said, trying not to choke on how fucking precious this little life is, and how close it was to being snuffed out. "Me too."

Pyrrha Dve was going to make some changes, she decided it then and there. She was going to make some calls, she was going to get her act together.

She was gonna be a mom, the best mom she could be. And it all started by nearly tripping over a cardboard box on the side of the highway.

[its-vannah]

The Alternative | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: Again, this took over a week for me to write because I get distracted easily. It's a shorter one, more like a blurb, but it's cute and does the job 💕

Request: hiiii warren request🫣 can you write a one shot where warren and reader sneak off at camilla’s housewarming party in ep. 4 to get high and there is a lot of sexual tension and they end up hooking up. THANK YOU

Warnings: Getting high, mentions of the band fighting, reader and Warren sneaking off

Taglist: @celestialstar111 @stokzr

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

There were many things you could look past when it came to The Six's behavior. Their constant arguments were one of them.

Once the disagreements started, you knew better than to stick around and watch it play out. So you just took your things and sat on the back porch, waiting for the yelling to die down.

On most days, it was Billy telling everybody to fuck off. Other days, it was Eddie telling Billy to fuck off. And some days, it was Karen telling them both to fuck off.

Being their neighbor, you heard most of their arguments. I mean, there wasn't much space between your houses and they weren't exactly quiet people.

Regardless, you had grown to love them. You, Karen, and Camila hung out every Thursday night at your place so they could get a break from whatever shit the boys were getting into.

Other days, Warren came over with his drumsticks to test how they sounded on your pots and pans—which he claimed "sounded different" than the ones they used at their house.

He'd spend hours just banging on different pieces of metal until he found a beat he liked. Then, he'd take your face in his hands, loudly say, "I'm a genius", and run back to show Billy what he's figured out.

Of course, Billy told him to talk to him when he wasn't high on marijuana—which wasn't often.

Those were the moments you enjoyed. Not wanting to ruin your friendships with the band, you stayed out of any drama that ensued between them for your own sanity. Sure, you had plenty of things you could say, but you'd never be able to finish a sentence without being spoken over.

So you kept your mouth shut, grabbed a bottle of wine, and sat in what had become "your chair."

Tonight was like most nights, the band was having a small spat. Billy was irritated that Daisy was there, Graham and Karen were God knows where, Eddie was sulking, and Camila was trying to fix everything.

You were in the same spot as always, rocking back and forth with a bottle in your hand, looking up at the endless array of stars.

It was peaceful and oddly humbling—knowing you were just a tiny fragment in the world. God, you were drunk off your ass.

Light footsteps behind you broke your train of thought and you watched as Warren came into view.

"Hey, neighbor," He said with a smile, nursing a bottle of beer, "Mind if I join you?"

"They're still fighting?"

He shrugged, sitting beside you in the other rocking chair, taking a swig of his drink, "Billy's not happy."

"When is he?" You scoffed, throwing back your wine, finishing the bottle, "He's always in a fucking mood."

"That's Billy for you. Always grumpy."

You dipped your head back with a groan, "I don't know who's worse—him or Eddie."

"Oh, Billy. It's definitely Billy."

Unable to stop yourself, you burst out laughing. The alcohol was starting to take a toll on your physical state, "So, what brings you out here? You stargaze often?

He grinned at your teasing tone, breaking eye contact and looking down at his feet, shaking his head, "No, no, just wanted to keep you company. And see if you'd do weed with me."

"Better than the alternative."

"What's the alternative?"

You gave him a knowing look, "Not doing weed with you."

- - -

You and Warren were laying on the floor of the back porch, laughing hysterically at something he said—but you couldn't exactly remember what he said—and neither did he. That itself added to the humor of it all. At least, it did for you.

Nothing could disturb the two of you, not the lights going out, Julia's crying, or the loud sound of the swarm of people inside of the house.

"So she walked in to see Eddie in a dress and Graham in nothing but his—his—" You couldn't even get the words out without laughing.

Warren slapped the wooden boards beside him, laughing so hard he was practically snorting, "I wasn't any better, I was a pirate."

You kicked your legs, holding your stomach, "I can't—I can't breathe—"

Warren sat up, leaning over you, "I can give you CPR."

You were pretty out of it, but you understood what he was saying. The thing is—you didn't want him to give you CPR.

"We could just go to my place instead."

Warren raised his brows, "You think we can make it that far?"

"I think we can at least make it to my front lawn."

He got on his knees, grabbing the rocking chair to pull himself up. The chair swung back, causing him to fall back down to the ground.

You looked over at him—and as soon as his eyes met yours, the two of you burst out laughing.

Pushing yourself up off the ground, you reached your hand out, "Come on, let's get you out of those clothes."

You've never seen him run faster in your life.

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

Thought that hit me outta nowhere when I was half asleep this afternoon-

What the hell was Fanny doing at the gala???

We never come back to this, and although Cuphead calls it out:

We never find out if this is true or not. Will we later on? I fucking hope so cause I seriously want to know what the point was.

If we go with Cuphead's assumption here, that she was planning to "crash the party to prove a point" I am endlessly curious to know what point was proven and to who? Her parents (or more specifically her father)??? Oswald??? Did she think he was going to be there and wanted to show out (see what you're missing if you hadn't settled?) But that seems silly, she'd probably want to avoid him.

So maybe herself? Prove to herself that she made it to where she wants to be in life.

I think this one makes a little more sense to me. As I've mentioned in my Fanny meta, Fanny's life is stressful, and she's constantly dealing with so much shit on her plate. Between her controlling husband whose presence doesn't allow for the home to be a safe environment for her to escape the troubles of work life. Work life, where she's dealing with entitled and ungrateful patients on one hand, and on another rude colleagues who make her job harder for no reason; not to mention supervisors and managers above her who she has to answer to. Then, dealing with the smell and sight of bodily fluids of all kinds on top of that. Nursing is a thankless job, that part Fanny was right about. So at the end of the day you want to relax, right?

Well it's hard to do that when all your friends are busy, and your husband's idea for a night of fun is completely different from yours.

Fanny doesn't like to be in her own head. Ever. I think going to the gala was a way for her to let go of her worries and reassure herself that she'd made the right choices. Her life was great. Or actually I guess a better way to frame it would be that Fanny was PRETENDING she had made it. The fact that she was insistent on reminding Cup that she could "go alone" was interesting because I'm almost positive she didn't bring her wedding ring with her that night.

I think for her, this was a different form of escapism than what we are used to seeing. One where she envisions a life of luxury amongst the high echleons of society. Where she could pretend for one night that she wasn't going to go home to a loveless, abusive marriage. Where she won't have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn for grueling work as a nurse dealing with ink illness patients. One where she could be Cinderella for just one moment before the clock struck twelve. To pretend for a night that she was a single, young woman without a care in the world.

But we see how that turned out for her, and THIS is the part that left me puzzled by the end.

This girl is DRUNK.

And not even in the fun way where you go out with friends and come back fucking washed. She's pouty, miserable, and moody as hell when Cuphead stumbles upon her while leaving.

To get that bedazzled and feeling yourself. Pulling out all the stops to look good for a fun night out to THE biggest party of the year, only to be midway through the gala and sloshed put of your damn mind bemoaning how much you ended up hating the whole thing. I have a good guess as to why she hated the party, probably along the same reasons that Cuphead despises events like these. In Fanny's case, I think it reminds her a little too much of what she came from.

I suppose I'm more confused as to why she assumed this party would NOT be like that? What exactly did she expect from an event like this? Why go at all? She knew she would be the third wheel of what was very clearly an expensive all-out date between Puphead and Dovil. Why even waste your time on something like this? You wouldn't have any company, and as far as I know, I don't think Red went to that event either and stayed at the house with the patients? Even if she had gone, she's as much of a public figure as Oddswell, being his assistant and all, and wouldn't have had time to properly chat with Fanny through the night.

Betty isn't anyone important enough to go to an event like that. So, with few options and all her friends fairly busy, I ask, what the hell was the point? Of course, any single person could go to the gala alone, but most of those women who would go alone were probably of some importance enough that they could mingle with those in their class, right? Plus, the dance floor. Plenty of seats available to simply observe while eating and drinking. Diné, the black cat woman Bendy danced with at the gala, is a good example of this. Far as I know she didn't come with anyone and yet she was clearly having a grand time.

Anyways, I just find the whole thing strange, but this is my general speculation on why I believe she went. Even then I still think it odd, cause I feel like she could have just as easily gone to a regular club and had that experience.

NOTE: Was going to originally include Cuphead as a possibility, taking into account that the Cupanny Evil Author chapter seemed to hint that Fanny asked Cuphead to be her plus one to the gala. But that part just doesn't make sense to me, there's no way it didn't slip that Cup had a plus one, it would be silly to think she would pull a goofy stunt like that when she knew he was a public figure and all eyes would be on him through the night.

[swiftsdelucaa]

❛ 𝑴𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Lexie Grey x f!reader ♡

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: What if between two besties there could be more? Maybe it's weird, but when you fall in love anything doesn't matter anymore.

𝘼/𝙣: Ikk haven't been here for ages! But now I'm back with a fic for my favv <3

Lexie Grey, beautiful, so sweet, such a good heart, she was an amazing girl, how couldn't you fall for her? It took a very little time, when you met her you already know that one day that girl would have been your girlfriend. Well, hopefully.

Everything she did did nothing but surprise you, there were no flaws with her. You were also close friends, you were always there for each other. She was a messy, but you loved that girl.

Lately, however, something had changed between you. When you met you no longer had long conversations, everything was different. And what worried you was whether things were changing for the better or for the worse. Now you talked more about patient cases. Neither about her daily crisis. Damn, you missed this too, often when she talked you just looked at her and get lost. She made you feel in an indescribable way, almost like when they say the butterflies on your stomach.

All you needed right now was just eating something, it had been a long morning and you didn't ate anything. You went to the hospital canteen with your friends, taking your time and thinking about all the little things that came in your mind.

"Where's Lexie, I haven't seen her today?" Meredith asked referring to you since you were always together. "Y/n?" She repeated as you haven't heard.

"Hm?" you came back to yourself.

"I just asked about Lexie, do you know where she is?" She asked again. You sighed.

"I honestly don't know..." you simply replied. She nodded, a little confused too. You looked around when you finally saw her arriving. Lexie.

"I'm gonna back working, see you later" you quickly greeted them, trying to follow her. You just wanted to clearing things.

You didn't want to seem suspicious but you were acting almost like a stalker right now. You arrived to the locker rooms, but apparently it was too late since she was already went away.

You tried to wander through the patient rooms when you saw her heading towards the nurses station. You walked towards her.

"Lexie" you called her.

"Oh, hey" she smiled. "Since you're here could you call Dr. Shepherd, my patient needs a neurological consultation" she asked focusing at her stuff.

I raise my eyebrows. "Really?" I ask crossing my arms. "Lexie, can I please know what's going on?"

"I'm, umh, I'm just doing my job" she said like nothing looked normal.

"Come on, you exactly know what I'm talking about" he places his things on the table and says nothing else. "So?" She just kept looking at you, then walked away.

You followed her, pretty confused. "Lexie!" She stopped when you called her.

She turned towards you, approaching, and grabbing you for kissing you on your lips. You were just so surprised, but damn, that was so good.

"Alexandra Grey" you whispered when the kiss ended.

"I'm sorry" she said as you still were very close. You laughed softly.

"For what?"

"I just didn't know how to- well you're my best friend, my person, and I-"

"I love you Lexie" you said cutting her off. She smiled softly, that smile you loved so much that you would have done anything to see it. "I thought the same, but I do, I want you to be more of a friend to me" you said with your hands on her cheeks.

"I'd love it" she said kissing you softly again.

Yeah, everything about your relationship changed, but that was in better.

[imagine-silk]

Could you do the Fallout 4 fellas (especially Preston and Nick) and how they might care for/fuss over sole survivor when they’re sick/injured. Who makes soup for them, who makes tea? Who cuddles them, who brings extra blankets?

Thank u <3

》I needed something fluffy. This is all under the understanding you are at full affinity with them but not specifically romanced.

》Hey, so something came up. Don't be surprised if I don't post regularly. I was planning to but something came up. Please stay patient.

【Codsworth】 "We'll get you right as rain."

He knows exactly how to handle this and he has no shame about it. He's already cooking your meals so now he just changes it to broth and crackers, both fresh of course. He also demands he change and bathe you before tucking you back into bed. Everyone who goes to see you can only do so for about ten minutes before being ushered out the room. He does take any help anyone offers but they are on a short leash.

【Danse】 "Go to the medical bay. I will not ask you again." ➣ "We should get you quarantine. I'd be willing to oversee it."

When he's in the Brotherhood he has no patience or empathy to SoSu's struggle. If they're sick that's not his problem or his responsibility, that' why clinics exist. After it all though he has his eyes open and can see the discomfort and suffering they are going through because of a simple cold. He can see every shiver and shake, ache and cough, all up close, he can even touch it. He can't remember if he had ever gotten sick but all he knows is people shouldn't expose others to sickness so they would most likely need to quarantine. For anyone else he wouldn't volunteer himself but if it's for SoSu he would, even if he was able to get sick. He'd like it to be him to take care of them just this once.

【Deacon】 "Aww, let mama take care of you."

Of course he takes the matter unseriously serious. Under all the bravado and jokes he is legitimately worried. He's seen people get worse but he holds out hope it will always stay better. And come on, it's the SoSu, nothing can take them down. And he is constantly around them with no fear of getting sick. If he does he won't ever show it. He'll either hold it in or play it off as mocking them, saying he was acting to get a rise out of them. The famous 'got ya' or 'aww you do care' which both get the job done. The chances they find out for sure he's lying is very very low.

【Hancock】 "Come here. We'll get ya better."

Surprisingly one of the least concerned persons. He can't get sick on the account of the radiation pumping all around his body, it doesn't allow anything viral or bacteria to live very long. That said he also remembers being sick and he remembers it being not too bad. He was always able to bounce back so you should be fine. All that said, because he can't get sick he will cuddle them the entire time. He's not the best nurse to have but he's affectionate and that counts for something. Not to mention the people of Goodneighbor throwing in whatever they can do to help.

【MacCready】 "Don't even think about it."

Every time Duncan got sick he wanted to play outside and tried to sneak out. MacCready got very good at finding his son and wrangling him back inside. If they think he won't give them the same treatment they're sorely mistaken. He will manhandle this grown ass adult who wants to continue helping people into bed like he would his son. He has a great immune system because of all the dirty places he's been but he could get sick. This is where he starts being hypocritical because he will keep going and tell them he can because he's used to it but they came from a time you didn't have to do that so 'rules for thee but not for me'. Cry about it.

【Nick】 "Something finally took you down. Huh, never thought I see the day."

After he has his fun and teases they he will close up shop to take care of them. He'll tell Ellie he's caved in and is going to take a break when really he's just doing another job, taking care of his friend. Because he can't get sick he'll let them cough and sneeze all they want, saying 'bless you' every time. They are allowed to lay on him but only if he's has a thick blanket in between so they don't get anything sharp poking at them. When it's all done he disinfects his office before reopening.

【Preston】 "I'll stay inside with you."

The man famous for staying outside no matter what happens, rain, hail, bullets, he will be on the front lines of it all, he is willing to put that down for them. His closest compatriot inconvenient suffering is important to him. If they were shot in the leg or something of that nature he'd probably still be out there because he can't really help them besides coming back to check on them, but a sick person needs constant care and he will never let them be given anything less. Sure it's not ideal for the General to not be running around as their posterboy but the General has never been meant to run around so they will live.

【X6】 "Sir/Ma'am, go see the doctor." ➣ "I'll do that for you."

He's not particularly worried for them when the Institute is still around. With their help they will be better in a matter of minutes. In an hour it will be like they were never sick in the first place. But after they're gone he is freaking out. His immune system in cranked up into overdrive all the time to the point it would be impossible for him to get sick, but for normal people... they can die. For the first time, Sanctuary sees him more demanding than he's ever been. He demands the doctor, whether or not it's Curie. He demands food for them, easy to wash down. He demands clean blankets and pillows, when they throw up he demands clean clothes. He'll feed them, clothe them, he will fucking bathe them if it comes to it. He is absolutely terrified because the barbaric disgusting surface is full of germs and not full of medicine.

[gucciwins]

heartbreak, hospitals, and apologies

Word count: 4996

A/N: hi friends! the wait is over. here is part two of bel and harry's fight. hope you enjoy :D

warnings: angst...with happy ending

first part // love on tour series

You huff, sitting on the hospital bed, assuring the two nurses there was no need to call anyone. 

“Miss, it’s protocol,” one of them responded, repeating this for the fifth time. 

You relent, “fine, can I give you a number?” 

“Is your emergency contact not the same? We can change that right now.” 

This is harder than it seems. You can’t explain to the kind nurse who’s only doing their job that you don’t want to call your boyfriend because you’re in a fight and haven’t spoken to each other in a week. 

“No,” you sigh, leaning back against the hard pillow on your bed. “Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Miss Belmonte. The doctor will be in shortly.” 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to remember how exactly you got here. 

A car ride is something you would have done if you were in Los Angeles, allowing you to run down PCH with the windows down and music blasting out but here in London, driving isn’t something you preferred; walking seemed to be the thing that helped clear your mind the most. 

Hampstead Heath is the place that made you fall in love with London and where on one or more occasions, you would meet with Harry to talk about your days or simply enjoy time together. Today, you were spending it alone. You laced up your running shoes, promising yourself you’d run a mile, knowing it’d make you feel better, and then walk the rest of your time there. 

The mile went well if it meant feeling your lungs burning by the end of it due to the cold weather. If you were being honest, you preferred to do your morning yoga routine, but Harry always leads each one, and doing without him fills you with hurt.  There weren’t many people meaning no need to say excuse me every few minutes. You smiled at a mother pushing her pram as you slowed to a walk. It’s safe to say the quiet at home was getting to you. Naomi told you that picking up your phone to call him is a good first step but not when you were drowning in anger and pain because you hurt Harry. 

That was never your intention. 

As much as you enjoyed being outside, you preferred to sulk in the comfort of your own home. Your cool down would be the walk home and stretch inside where no one could see you cry. 

A small dog was barking as you and its owner waited at the crossing. Once you got the go-ahead, you moved forward, unaware that the dog had stopped barking or that no one else had stepped forward. As soon as you were about to take a second step, the man next to you pushed you back, causing you to stumble and fall to the side, hitting your head and feeling the breeze of the car zooming down the road that would have taken you with it if not for this stranger helping you.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asks, bending down next to you, but everything feels fuzzy. You hear him talk to someone on the street about an ambulance, and you know this is not good news. “Hey, miss?”

“My head hurts,” you reply after a moment. You raise your hand to touch it, but the stranger stops you. 

“Don’t do that. You’ll be okay. Help is on the way.” 

You decide to trust him because what else can you do for the moment. It could have been two or fifteen minutes. You’re not sure when the paramedics arrived and lifted you on the gurney as if your body was fighting, keeping you awake because as soon the ambulance door slammed closed, your world went black. 

That is not a memory you want to remember. Your head hurts thinking about lying on the ground. You fear the media will get a hold of this and run with it. There were so many strangers by the time the ambulance arrived. Still, for once, it’s not a problem you want to take care of, not when a nurse was currently calling your boyfriend, Harry, who you had not spoken to in a week because you felt embarrassed and ashamed for hurting him the way you did. You know that if you had remained calm, the argument wouldn’t have escalated to a full-blown fight with him asking you to leave. 

A knock on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, welcoming in the nurse once more. “Miss Belmonte, we got no response from Mr. Styles but left a voicemail. Is there anyone else we can call?” 

“Not that currently live here,” you told her honestly. 

Harry never liked answering unknown numbers. It’s something you both had in common. It came with the life rather be safe than sorry. He could have mistaken it for a spam call. He couldn’t know it was a hospital trying to reach him about his injured girlfriend.

“Can I try?” You offer.

“Of course, I’ll give you some privacy.” Nurse Lana walks out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving you alone once more as you try your best to calm your shaky hands as you go to your favorites list, Harry being right on top. 

It rings once, twice, and a third before sending her to voicemail. 

You sigh, waiting for the machine to beep to begin your message. “Hi, Harry,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, and hope isn’t able to pick up on it so that he doesn’t get worried. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m at Royal Free Hospital, and I know you’re busy, so you don’t need to worry about showing up. I’m not expecting you to because I know why you wouldn’t want to see me either way,” you add on, “but I thought you should know that--uh, I got in a small accident. All I got was a minor scratch, but it was all precaution, as you know. I’m fine,” your voice trailing off. 

“Miss the Doctor will be in soon.”

“Thank you. Sorry, H. Don’t even worry, Emerson will be here soon enough,” and you hang up without a goodbye or an I love you. 

You feel overwhelmed and sad because you want Harry here holding your hand but know you don’t deserve him. Now that the most important call is done, your breathing still feels heavy and uneven. The heart monitor hasn’t settled down yet, and you’re not at all surprised. It seemed Harry had that effect on you, no matter the situation. Your next phone call was to your manager, Viola. She’s quick to answer; it’s something you have always loved about her.

“Y/N, why in god's name are you calling me at six am!!!”

You wince, forgetting about the time difference, but go straight to the matter. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the hospital.” 

“Shit, darling. You okay?” Y/N could laugh at the shift in tone but knew her head would begin to throb. “What happened?” 

“A car was coming too fast at a crossing, and a stranger pushed me out of the way, but now I have stitches on my temple.” 

“Oh dear, are you alright? Is Harry there?” 

You sigh, not at all surprised, she asked for them. Everyone knew that when Harry and you were in the same city, there was no separating the two of you. “Harry and I got into an argument and haven't spoken in a few days. Left him a voicemail but don’t know if he’s busy or even in London still.”

“I’m sure he’ll reach out. Do you think the media got a hold of it yet?” 

“Maybe,” you shrug and hope that’s not the case. “That’s why I called but also just to check-in. Not feeling too good. Possible concussion. Do you think you can inform Naomi and her family? That I’m okay, but no calls, for now, it hurts my head.” 

“Absolutely, I’m on it. Emerson will be at your house prepping everything, pick you up too if you need it.” 

“Thank you,” a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, knowing Viola has everything under control. 

“No need, darling. I’ll update Emerson and ensure she’s on her way to you soon enough.”

“It’ll be a few hours, no rushing her.”

“Oh, you’re a doll even when injured,” Viola tells you before hanging up. 

You close your eyes, your two phone calls done and shut your phone off. The light had made your head throb, and the nurse said resting was okay, so it’s what you intend to do. The doctor could wake you up when he was in to do his round; for now, you want to rest. 

_____

You wake up to chatter inside your room, groaning at the light shining in from the window. Someone was quick to close the blinds, which you were grateful for as you slowly opened your eyes, careful not to move your head. You focused on the person standing before you and were surprised to see Harry standing next to a doctor. He looked tired, a frown set on his face, and you knew he was upset and didn’t want to be here with you. It caused your eyes to well up with tears. You didn't want him to see you cry, so you turned away.

“Hi, Miss Belmonte. I’m Dr. Bloom. How are you feeling?” 

“The headache dulled,” you respond in a whisper. 

“That’s good. I was telling Mr. Styles here that your scans show a minor concussion which is common for a head injury. As for the stitches, you’ll come back to us in three to five days to have them removed, and we’ll do one final exam to check there is no other injury,” Dr. Bloom explains. 

“Meaning another MRI,” you sigh, knowing it’s going to be a tough week. 

“Afraid so, but we’re hopeful everything will come back clear then. We’ll begin the discharge paperwork now, and you’ll be free to go home in a few hours.” 

Dr. Bloom excuses herself, and you’re left alone with the man who’s been in your dreams every night since you walked out of his house. You remember how awful you felt when you walked out and how you were fighting to turn around and tell Harry you’d say everything, but your hurt heart pushed you away from the one person you loved the most. 

Now he’s standing in front of you, not a hint of emotion on his face. It’s like you were staring at a stranger. You hate that you caused this, that you were selfish in keeping something quiet, that you’ve lost your other half. 

“Harry,” you whimper.

It seems to break the tension in the hospital room because he steps toward you, sitting on the side of the bed as he scans every part of your body to see where else you’re hurt and what he can do to help. 

“How you feeling? Hmm,” he asks, even though he just heard you tell the doctor how you were feeling. 

“I’m okay, tired.” You tell him honestly. 

“Em dropped your clothes off.” 

You frown, “she didn’t stay?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No. Viola has her doing some things for you.” 

If Viola needed her, that was okay. You settle down, letting Harry’s voice ease down all the emotions you had stored inside of you. You don’t deserve to have him here, but you won’t be asking him to leave. Harry falls silent, and you know he must have a million thoughts running through his head, just like you do. 

There’s so much you want to say, mainly sorry. Sorry for hurting him. 

“Harry, I’m sorry,” you let out, letting your eyes meet his. 

He looks confused for a second, but it clicks, and you see the shield rise to keep you out. 

“Y/N–” 

“You have to know I never meant to hurt you,” you plead for him to understand. You don’t even notice the rise in your heart monitor, but Harry does.

“Not now.” He tells you sternly. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.” 

You deflate, feeling your heart sink, and know that this really must be the end. He only showed up because he was obligated by hearing your voicemail and the hospital's. He knows you don’t have anyone here you trust, not without relation to him. You nod, trying and failing to offer him a smile, so instead, you close your eyes hoping the nurse returns soon to let you go home. 

“Y/N?” 

No more Bel. 

It seems you were really losing Harry, and there was nothing you could do. This was the beginning of the end. Harry would take you home, and you’d probably never see him again because he couldn’t forgive you for breaking his heart.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was soft and full of concern. 

You feel his thumb wipe away a tear, and you wonder how you managed not to feel them escaping you. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. 

He frowns, not able to understand what you’re apologizing for. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you about Dylan and leaving your house upset. For not calling you all week until I needed you.” 

Harry knows you’re not in a secure emotional state for this conversation. It isn’t fair to him, and it isn’t fair to you. He stops you once again. 

“Now isn’t the time,” his tone was firm and final. 

Your mouth falls close, and you feel your face fall. Usually, you’re better at hiding your emotions, but after the day you had, there’s no facade, and Harry can see every bit of emotion on your face. It seems definite that when you have this conversation, you will lose Harry, and he’s too considerate to break up with you in a hospital. 

“Bel,” he sighs, running a hand through his already messed-up hair. “I’m not giving up on you. Now and here is not the place for that conversation.” 

A hospital is definitely not how you saw this conversation with Harry growing; if he wanted a different environment, you would allow him that. He deserves better, and you have to start proving to him it could still be you. 

_______

After signing endless forms, you were free to go, released in the care of Harry. The nurse promised to personally see you in five days to remove the stitches. Your job–or Harry’s- was to ensure the wound stayed clean and uninfected. 

By protocol, you were brought down to Harry’s car in a wheelchair, where Harry stopped to take a photo of where he promised to only show Mitch and Sarah. You rolled your eyes, not caring who he showed because you trusted him. Harry helped you buckle in, making sure you were comfortable before getting in and driving you away from the hospital you hoped to never visit again but knew it would be unavoidable as you’d be back in a few days. 

Harry had piano tunes playing in the car, and you know he did that when he was headed to the studio. You wondered if Harry was at the studio when he received the call or was on his way there. You wondered if you ruined his day by hearing the news you were in the hospital. 

“Naomi called me,” Harry tells you, breaking the silence. 

“Hmmm…” 

“Was wondering how you’re doing?”

“And what you tell her, Doc?” 

Harry shoots you a funny smile, “told her you’re taking it like a champ.” 

You’re unsure about that, and you decide to brush past that. “When’s her flight landing?”

He laughs, shaking his head, “what?” 

You shrug your shoulders. “I’d be on the first flight out if it was her.”

“She arrives tomorrow afternoon with Viola. There were things both of them had to reschedule before flying out.” 

That does not surprise you. It’s hard to drop everything you’re doing for someone who lives oceans away. You’re thankful for them and will remind them to show them when they arrive. You focus back on the road in time to see Harry take a right turn instead of a left. You frown but don’t say a word until he stops outside your house gates. 

 Harry presses the remote for your gates and pulls up the driveway. He parks next to your car, looks over at you and takes note of the frown on your face. 

“Hey, you’re home. What’s wrong?” 

You shrug, hoping he lets it go, and you go to get out of the car when he stops you. 

“You can tell me, Bel.” 

“It’s selfish,” you mutter.

“What is?” 

“I-I just thought you’d take me home with you.” 

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you didn’t want to be there. You gave me my key back.” 

You reach for his hand but stop yourself, unsure if he’s comfortable with that small action. “That isn’t why I gave it back, Harry.” 

The silence lingers in the air, and you aren’t sure where to go from here. 

“Are you sure you’re up for this conversation? You haven’t even made it inside.” 

You drop your head, trying your best to keep your tears in, something this headache broke in you was how much you seemed to be crying, but if you were being honest, the reason you keep crying is because you know the possibility of losing Harry is high. “I can’t keep doing this, avoidance,” you croak out. 

Harry exhales a long breath, looking at your house and then back at you. “Can we go somewhere else? Not sure I want to taint your house with any bad memories.”

You know he didn’t mean to hurt you with his words, but the wound is so fresh that your heartaches at the memories you have left him within the home he opened you into with open arms. Now, he’ll always relate it back to when you hurt him the most by walking away and not being willing to fight for him. 

“Anywhere you want, H. I’d follow you anywhere,” you tell him honestly. 

That gets you a hint of a smile, one that you haven’t seen in over a week and miss desperately. 

“Alright, buckle up again then.” 

You’re not sure if you should prepare for the worst or the best, but for now, you’ll go in with an open mind to show Harry you love him and will not give up on him.

 ______

Harry drives for some time up an unfamiliar road. It’s full of greenery and the occasional farm animal. You aren’t sure how long he’s been going, but you’ve seen him relax through the ride, no longer gripping the wheel like his life depended on it. Instead, one hand was on the steering wheel and the other on his lap. You know that hand used to rest comfortably on your thigh where he’d give you a squeeze every few minutes to check in on you. You took it to mean I love you. Now, you’ve been tiptoeing around each other, not allowing each of you any kind of touch to each other. 

He pulls up a beaten path to display a small lake with only a handful of ducks swimming around. You look at Harry, waiting for him to tell you more about where he’s brought you, but he tells you to wait for him to come around to help you. He watches your every move as he guides you out of the car. Harry begins walking up a dirt trail, he grabs your hand, placing it on his bicep, and you let him guide you. This lake is secluded, with no sign of other people and many birds chirping in the trees. It must be a place many are unfamiliar with because, from the looks of the run-down bench, there is no upkeep happening. 

“Sit with me, Bel.” 

You feel your heart in your throat but do as he asks. The entire ride, you have been thinking about what you were going to say, but there are so many ways this conversation can go, and the thing you want most is to walk away knowing Harry still has your heart, and you have his. 

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

Harry smiles, “early days after buying my house in London, I wanted to get away without being recognized, and I kept driving until I took a wrong turn and ended up here. I like meditating here or running. There’s a start of a trail about a quarter mile away,” he points behind you to the trail you had initially started on and sees the entrance straight out of a fairytale book as if stepping behind the tree line will take you to a new world. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“I enjoy it. Now don’t go breaking my heart here, Bel,” Harry jokes, trying to break the ice to this challenging conversation. 

The fact that Harry has said those words to you more than once makes your chest tighten up. You hurt him, and it’s clear it's not something either of you will easily move past. You might never forgive yourself for hurting him the way you did. 

“Harry, I–that’s the last thing I ever want to do. I’d break mine a thousand times before thinking of breaking your heart. I hate that you keep saying it,” you confess and know he’s heard you because he’s fallen silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “There’s so much we need to say, and I hope we can let it go here,” he offers. 

You nod and turn your body to face him. This will not be easy, but you have to confront all the emotions you’ve been holding back. Harry deserves all your honesty. It’s silent for a moment, and you know Harry is waiting for you to begin because, in your eyes, he has nothing to apologize for. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you start, your voice wavering as you fight back the tears. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dylan. He was–he’s a big part of my past I don’t look back at because there’s so much hurt connected to when I first met him. Even when we met again, our connection was the pain he was going through and nothing more. I know I should have told you, but it didn’t seem important, not when I hadn’t seen him as anything more than a friend for years.” You’re careful to wipe away your tears, not wanting to mess with the bandage on the side of your head. “He’s a friend, one that had the honor of meeting my family, but that doesn’t change a thing for me because you’ve also met my family. You’ve seen the people who care the most about me, and they love you. I love you,” you remind him. “You don’t have to forgive me. I was selfish. You opened up to me in a way that no one ever has, baring their soul to me, and I-I think by keeping a few things close to my chest could be my way out if you ever hurt me.”

“I never planned on hurting you,” he tells you in a low tone. You hear the crack in his voice.

“I-I know,” you cry. “From the moment I met you, you showed me kindness and respect. It's why I fell in love with you. From the first moment, I felt safe with you.” 

Harry cracks a smile at your confession. “I believe you. I–I hate the way I found out. That your friends still joke about him or know about his feelings towards you.” 

“You have to know I would never hurt you like that. Cheating is something we’ve both shared how we’ve seen it hurt others and ourselves, and I would never forgive myself for betraying someone like that, let alone you, H.”

“Thank you.”

“As for Naomi and Sarai, I’m not sure why they said he is still in love with me. Dylan’s been a good friend throughout my career, and as far as I know, he’s very much in love with his girlfriend, Allie. He hasn’t made anything public, but he’s always going on double dates with Logan and Ana.”

Harry takes in all the information, and you no longer feel a weight on your chest, but you’re still nervous because he can accept your apology, but it doesn’t mean he forgives you.

 “Do you have other secrets?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no.” 

“Positive?” He teases. 

“Naomi listed everything out to me if you want to check with her,” you joke. “You can really put her through the test.”

“She says you haven’t been calling,” Harry changes the subject. 

You sigh, raising your hand to rub your temple, feeling the beginning of a headache coming to you. “She’s told me to call you every day. I ignored her because I felt like I couldn’t because you asked for space. Then I got into my own head, thinking I deserved the pain I felt for hurting you.” 

“When you gave me that key back, I thought that was it,” he confessed.

“Oh, Harry.” You reach your hand out to him and smile when he accepts it, raising it to his lips to give you a kiss. “I felt like I had broken your trust and didn’t deserve the key and what it signified. Not when you trusted me so much. That was me respecting your space.”

“Bel–”

“Maybe it was too far,” you add, knowing that in the heat of the moment, you weren’t sure how to feel but looking back now, there’s so much you would have done differently. 

“A bit,” he teased.

“I am really sorry, Harry. It was never my intention to hurt you,” you feel him squeeze your hand and let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t let go.

“I know, Bel. I know.” Harry looks out to the lake, resting your intertwined hands in his lap. “It just felt like you didn’t trust me when from the start you said honesty and communication were an important foundation to have in a relationship.” 

“I trust you with my life, H. The relationship I had with him was not something I saw lasting, as I didn’t want to be known as his girlfriend. There’s a reason I never went public with him. Our views were too different.” 

“Did you feel like I forced you to announce our relationship?” Harry asks, and you know he’s referring to the final night in New York. 

“Not at all,” you assure him. “It was different; with you, we were taking steps to get to know each other as I traveled with you. We did things out of order, but it made me love you even more. I told you that day I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure about you. Harry, you’re the biggest constant in my life. When I feel lost, I look to you as my north star. You bring me home wherever you are.” 

Harry sniffles, taking in your words. “I love you, Y/N. The love I have for you can’t even be described, and when I got those voicemails from the hospital and I–I didn’t know if you were okay. I was scared that the last memory I would have of you was walking away from me, and there was nothing I did to stop you because I was the one who sent you away.” 

“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—I’m so sorry.” 

“The relief of seeing you on the hospital bed with only a minor injury was enough to know that I’d do anything to work through this with you because I want you through the good and the bad. I want it all with you, baby.” 

Harry stands up, pulling you with him, and he wraps you in a big embrace, careful not to squeeze you too tight but enough to assure himself that he’s got you safe in his arms.

“Te amo, te amo con todo mi corazón,” you promise him.

“I love you too.” He kisses the top of your head. “I forgive you.” 

“H, you don’t have to say that.” 

Harry pulls back, gently cupping your face, “hey, look at me.” You stare at him with tears in your eyes. “I forgive you because I love you. We’ll work through this, baby. It’s you and me.” 

“Tu y yo.”

“That’s right, Bel. Now let’s get you home. You’ve been gone long enough.” 

“Wait,” you stop him.

“Baby, please. Let me take you home, run you a nice bath and give you cuddles.” 

You feel your face flush, thankful to know you’re going to be okay, that he loves you and you love him. That you might have been selfish, but not anymore, not when you were close to losing him. Harry is the love of your life, and you know that will never change.

“I want a kiss,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you, Harry?” 

Harry melts at your words, closing the gap between you. “These lips have been lonely, huh,” he teases. “I can fix that.” 

“Dork.”

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours as they move together like no time has passed. You missed his kisses and touch; you mostly missed being with him. Harry filled you with love and safety, and not having him made you realize how much you love him. Some people are lucky enough to find their other halves, their soulmates, and you know you found yours. 

You know you and Harry would argue in the future, it was inevitable, but there will also be happy times, and no matter what, you would always find your way back to him. 

thank you for reading mis amores 💜 come tell me what loved

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[sheeluvsme]

John Soap mactavish headcannons !

LETTS GET READY TO RUMBLEEE!! Hi everyone! I saw how everyone really liked my last post about price and Valeria !!! So i figured I’ll do our boy soap next :))!! Who should I write about next? I was thinking könig…lmk!!

CW// This is SFW and NSFW!! there will be female anatomy used Lightly, also NOT proof read LMAOO , ANGST! ( warning nurse! Reader, brief death) semi public stuff? Just let me know if I missed anything!!

When you first met soap , you really thought he was WEIRD AS SHIT

He like completely puzzled you with his jokes 😭

You two met at a pub!! He had claimed to think your face was familiar and you told him you worked for army medical. You were a army nurse ! That’s when it clicked in his tiny little brain, because lord knows he’s been to medical lotssss of times.

The first thing that pulled him in was your laugh. When you finally started laughing at his stupid jokes he couldn’t help but smile like a teen boy.

Soap is also good to you! He i a sweetheart and lovessss taking you wherever you want to go, he mostly likes going shopping with your for two very important reasons 1. To make sure no one fucks with you 2. So he can get his favorite candy.

He actually likes watching you shop and be in your own little world! He thinks it’s cute because when he’s focused he does the same thing.

He knows you have anxiety about alottttt of things and he is right there for you! He knows public places scare you because of germs and also just some many loud people

He finds it funny your so loud and assistive at your place of work but as soon as you hit the public you turn into a shy little thing and he adores it!

Especially when you don’t want to bother people, your sitting there with your cart … waiting for this one person to move… and he’s like “ what you waitin’ for lass?” And you jester to the person in-front of you. He can’t help but smile and shake his head at you “ excuse meh’ ! We gotta get by you” he louder then he should of announced 😭

Soap always says the most random funny shit to you, he knows you have quite a gruesome sad job sometimes , so coming back home with him and his humor really helps!!

One day you absolutely came home in tears , you were shattered, your heart felt so so sore. He couldn’t help but immediately sore to you hold you. “ aye aye ..sweetheart what’s wrong-?! Did someone hurt you? Is it your boss again because I swea-“ you just shake your head no. You quietly explain to him through your tears a kid died on you. There was nothing you could really do but make them comfortable but you couldn’t help but feel sorrow. Because you definitely wanted kids with soap. So this scared you. He just holds you so tightly stroking your hair. “ it’s ok sweetheart. You did your absolute best. It’s ok..”

He always know how to exactly get you feeling better. Even if your sick ! You yell at him to stay away from you because you’re sick and have gross germs!! But he literally couldn’t care he picks you up anyways kissing you and hugging you!

He wasn’t very educated on periods at first but you definitely taught him , maybe a little too graphic because after he hugged you and told you how lucky he is to have a dick LMAOO

On your period he like genuinely calls it ‘ Shark week! ‘

He’s the type to say , when you ask him to grab you pads and says ‘ what size pussy you got ‘ PLSPSLLSL

You catch this man listening to the lady Gaga or Katie Perry 100% AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE LITERALLY HAS NO SHAME

He thinks your just the prettiest thing wearing his shirts !! Makes him secretly go nuts

He admires you a lot , the way you have to be up at ASS O’CLOCK in the morning for work and you still make him lunch or morning coffee???? He wants to be YOU when he grows up LMAOO

NSFW

He also like price has a primal urge to make you his baby momma LMAOO

He loves telling you that during sex “ yeah? Like that? You like when I’m deep inside you hm? Gonna’ getcha’ fucking pregnant with my kid.”

He is a MAJOR bitter

He loves biting you everywhere and leaving his marks on you. It’s his favorite thing getting up after you watching you slip on your scrubs and try and cover your neck bites with makeup. He can’t help but cheekily smile

He is also a MAJOR pussy eater , loveessss eating you like a starved man , especially overstimulation.

He will eat you over and over and over till your literally sobbing and saying you can’t anymore ( he of course respects your request)

He is BIGGGG on in public stuff ‼️‼️

Like if your out for a nice dinner you can’t help but send a glare his way as his hand creeps up your thigh. “ what do you think your doing?” You playfully smack his hand away. “ what dose it look like I’m doing hm?” He whispers. “ it looks like your focused on the wrong food.” You keep yourself together as you sip your wine. “ I’m a man who likes his dessert before his dinner what can I say?” You choke on your wine.

DONT even get me started when your out clubbing together going to a pub with a few of 141 to have a good time , you yourself are having too much of a good time. Your buzzed , warm , and feeling damn good, your make up worked out perfectly and your clothes fit you JUST right.

Soap leaves his eyes off you for one minute and he sees gaz and price chuckling as they point to you , clearly having the time of your life in the crowded dance floor , soap is chuckling too until he notices a guy gawking you and obviously too close for his comfort. Your oblivious to what’s happening honestly there’s so many people smooshed together, your too focused on dancing.

He quickly sets down his drink squeezing through people, quickly apologizing. He grabs your waist quickly pulling you close before looking back at the guy that was very close to touching what’s his. Soap quickly says “ step off. She’s with me.” You quickly turn around to see your beautiful boyfriend and smile “ Johnny!! I was wondering when you’d come out here and show off your sweet dance moves!” Obviously teasing him. Because his ass can not dance 😭

Soap hears you and smiles but he’s quietly brewing. Suddenly he’s dragging you to the clubs bathroom. Thank god it’s a single use. “ wha- cmon was my dancing that embarrassing?” You tease him wondering what the hell is happening. “ no love. Not that. Just..” her huffs grabbing you pulling you close. “ people keep ogling’ whats mine. I don’t take very kindly to it.” Your cheeks heat up. You’ve never seen him like this but your not complaining. You didn’t even notice people looking at you. “ well I promise I’m all yours Johnny..” he quickly sticks his lips to yours. Hungrily kissing you , licking into you. “ soap- every one else is gonna-“ he quickly cuts you off. “ let them. I’m having you right now whether they like it or not.”

Soap seems more dominant but he is half and half sometimes he just needs to be your good boy ‼️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

He absolutely LOVESSSSS when you top him or sit on his face. If he’s tired but still really wants you THATS when he turns into putty in your hands.

He fucking loves when you pull on his Mohawk ‼️ he can’t help but whimper and god damn is so beautiful.

BIG ON PRAISE let that poor boy know he’s doing good!!! Degrading him just makes him feel competitive, then the tables will turn..

He loves begging you to let him cum in you , “ please- please let me cum in you. Fucking hell!- haa- please please. I want you to feel good-“ of course with him you obviously CANT say no!!

He’s also pretty good with after care, he likes taking baths with you because soap does enjoy a good bubble bath!!

Next morning you wake up late because it’s your day off, he’s gone for work already but you smell something? You walk into the kitchen and he made you breakfast and coffee with a small note. “ gotta take care of my girl after she takes care of me , I love ya ! -your secret admirer” and ofc he spells like half of that wrong but its ok because you do indeed love your boyfriend!

Thank you for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed <33