#I wanna get hospitalised | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k-atsukibakugou · 4 months

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hiring you after a particularly tense night could either be the best decision endeavor ever made, or the worst.

pairing: enji todoroki x f!reader w/c: 2.7k warning/s:fem!reader, escort!reader, cheating, reader has hair out, finger sucking notes: sorry not sorry i just wanna be a rich mans toy; dialogue is a lil clunky my bad lmao

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“so, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” despite the firepower of his quirk, the ice is thick between you, your teasing words hardly making a crack in the frigid surface. undeterred by it’s solidity, you make your way over to the hero, still seated at the desk on a chair that makes him seem more imposing than he is, his shoulders flaring past the edges of the high back, the only thing in the room that towers over his seated frame.

the expansive office isn’t enough for the both of you, the air already thick when you take another step closer, the heavy mahogany swinging shut behind you, latching into place with an echoing thud. still without a word, endeavor stares you down like he would a villain, watching your every move, every rise of your chest, the slow sway of your hips. his ears tingle hearing your sleek heels click along the hardwood floor, slow, calculated steps across the ice, no fear of falling when you venture further into the icy depths of the office.

crystal blue eyes trail over your body with every click, drinking in the sight of your tight, white blouse, the top three buttons undone to expose a sliver of your lacy bra, the skirt with a slit far too high on your thigh to be appropriate, your sheer black stay-ups that stop at your mid thigh, a peek of your garter poking from beneath your skirt to keep them up. his ears are ringing when his glare reaches your heels, unsure if it’s his blood rushing to his head, or the sound of you stepping over the rug echoing in his head.

the hero’s heart pumps in his chest incessantly, he can already see the headlines now, top hero hospitalised for cardiac event after inviting escort to his agency. your proximity might be a fate worse than death.

drawing his eyebrows down, he averts his eyes; it shouldn’t be this easy to work him up, you’ve just walked into his office and his mind is already wandering. and yet, when he slouches in the leather, he spots the dark red lace beneath your skirt, the minute layer of fabric doing nothing to hide your dizzying cunt. enji’s sure he’s pale as his head rolls back, the blood rushing from his head, swallowing hard, he wills himself to just relax. you weren’t a threat, you were a woman. so, why was his skin burning so damn hot?

slinking around the corner of his desk like a cat readying for a nap in the sunlight, your non-existent tail curls around his throat, bringing his attention back solely to you. perching yourself on the edge of his desk, shuffling back just enough until the bare skin of your thighs squishes against the cool surface, your position hiking your skirt higher on your limbs, even more so when you cross one leg over the other, pushing the fabric to your hips. he’d never admit it, but his cock jumps just watching you move, gliding over the slowly melting ice with a confidence that made his head feel like static the longer he stared.

your allure makes his head fuzzy, your little office getup flattering every curve and plain of your body; the cliche glasses perched on your nose working better for him than he’d thought. it only gets fuzzier taking you in, your exposed thighs, squishing around the elastic of your garter, the curve of your throat, the shape of your tits when you leaned closer, the colour of your lips. you study him through the glass, licking your lips just to watch him squirm, nearly drooling yourself at the flex of his thighs as he adjusts in the seat, his bulge more than enough evidence of everything he refused to say aloud.

despite calling you after a late patrol, heaving and panting down the line with his fat cock grasped in his hand, he never quite expected the follow through.

“i’ve never been inside the number ones office before,” his gaze is still glued to your thighs listening to you speak, the weight of your sultry gaze making him shift side to side again. quirking your head, your voice is low and even when you lean closer to question him, “what are you so nervous about, endeavor?”

it takes every ounce of his self control to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the sound of your purring voice, instead, he keeps his blue eyes trained on your sparkling, mischievous ones. even with his attempt to remain stoic, the glimmer in your eyes makes it abundantly clear you remember the low, gravelly tone of his voice when he’d called you, the addictive rumble in his throat as he’d all but groaned down the line, asking to see you. you didn’t bother to respond with your rates, you knew he’d pay from how fucked out he sounded.

“i’m not.” enji wordlessly thanks any god above that his voice is even, that he doesn’t choke on the words, even when you drift closer. your scent clouds his mind, he doesn’t know if it’s your perfume, or a quirk, but the smell sticks to the inside of his nose, melting into every wrinkle and ridge of his brain with every slow breath in. shaking his head doesn't quite clear his head. countless villains defeated by him, but a gorgeous escort clad in a tiny skirt was making him tremble, the pure lewdity of you draped on his desk dressed like that had his blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in years.

growing closer to the hero,his dick twitched like it did the night he called you, the fat tip of his cock starting to stick to his boxers when your lips brushed against the stubbled skin of his jaw in an addictive, barely-there touch, marring the skin with a line of dark lipstick from the corner of his lips to his ear.

“let’s get you more comfortable,” you purr in his ear, the sound waves sending jolts of electricity down his jaw, through the jugular in his throat, down his oesophagus into the depths of his stomach with a deep shudder. your head is just as foggy as his when you drop to your knees in front of him, the wet dream of the hulking hero falling apart at the seams when you’d hardly touched him, hadn’t done a thing to make him so clammy, to get him so worked up, to have his fists clenching at his sides. you hadn’t even looked at his fat cock yet, let alone touched it.

kneeling between his thighs, each wider than your head, you lift a heavy foot that’s nearly as long as your torso, setting his heel in your lap as he studies you like you’re alien; dark red eyebrows furrowing, wrinkling in the centre when you unzip the side of the boot, tugging the moulded lather off his foot. he can see down your thin shirt at this angle, his stormy eyes locked on the charm at the centre, hypnotised by the way it catches the light like a crystal sun catcher in the middle of july, his attention only drawn away from your chest when you tugged his other foot into your lap.

the longer you fiddled with his shoes, the more strung out he got, his tendons feeling like they were about to rip under his skin, his knuckles itching to reach for you, to tug at the flimsy buttons holding your shirt together until the stitches split, growing more and more desperate to bury his cock in your cunt. fuck, he nearly forgot how a warm, wet pussy felt gliding up and down his cock. his eyes fluttered shut, the relief of his boots slipping off his feet doing little to relax his wired body, especially the more he thought about how you’d look bouncing in his lap, still in that short, tight skirt, your pretty manicured fingers rubbing at your clit, your mascara smudging under your eyes when you came, how you’d moan his name when you ride him. would you shudder feeling him dip his head into your weeping cunt? would you ask him to go slow, shiver atop him sinking down his length? would you let him spill his seed in your cunt? or swallow all his cum while you lick him clean of your juices. biting his lip, he stifles a groan at the fantasy of your cheeks full of his cum, of it spilling over your perfect lips, dripping down your chin onto your chest, tainting your thin shirt.

—his eyes squeeze shut with a groan, a heavy hand rubbing at his lidded eyes, the pressure of his knuckles in the socket forcing the picture of you from his mind. he shouldn’t be doing this. he can’t do this. his cock is aching, he can’t be doing this, but fuck, he needs it.

“i can hear you thinking,” you study his face, taking in the bright topaz of his eyes, the indecision swirling in them, the jagged scar tearing through the left side of his face, leaving a gap in the hair on his jaw, the stubble spattered around the clear skin surrounding it, the start of a beard a red only a shade darker than the hair on his head. enji’s hand drops to his thigh, his bright aquamarine gaze meeting yours, the blue a deep navy in the shadows stretching over his face, somehow still glowing an electric blue despite the darkness beneath them, the weary lines that come with the job, and age. propping your chin on his knee, his head rolls back, the front of his boxers nearly wet from staring at you, the glittering of your eyes that looked like you were starstruck, the dark eyeliner smudged around your lash line that he desperately wanted to make run down your face, the creamy lipstick already starting to smear around your lip line, half of it still left on his cheek.

“i don’t know if i can do this…” running a hand through dark red hair, leaving it in spikes. even with his apprehension, he doesn’t stop you from dragging your fingertips over the hard muscle of his thighs, doesn’t jostle your chin from his knee, allowing you to slide your hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare abdomen.

“i..i’m married.”

there’s a flash across his face, a guilt, a worry. you we’re used to clients having… commitments, someone to go home to after you, although, this was the first time you’d seen a man so concerned about it, the morals of betraying his family, the morals of just thinking of you laid bare for him to lick, nip and suck as he pleased, to make your spine arch into him. he’s itching to have you melt on his tongue, on his fingers, fuck, the longer he ogles you, the more he thinks tarnishing his reputation might be worth it. your posture straightens, the hero doesn’t miss a single twitch in your muscles, waiting for you to stand, to storm out. instead, you hum, an amused sound from low in your throat, your hands sliding from beneath his shirt back down the length of his thighs.

light as a feather, your touch grazes his aching cock, his blood running hot through his veins to his crotch, like it was his own hellfire ablaze beneath your touch. it doesn’t cool when you reach for his left hand, tugging the limb easily into his lap, not a single one of his bulging muscles straining to stop your light touches on his skin. sparing a glance at him, you gently trace your fingertips over the cold gold of his ring, the metal dinged, scratched and worn smooth at the edges from years of marriage, decades even.

“i’m not trying to be your wife, endeavor,” your eyes shine looking up at him, “it’s cliche, but i’m anything you want; a lover, a girlfriend, a date— if you don’t wanna touch me,”

your pink tongue pokes out from between your lips when you trail off, slowly licking down the length of his finger. the digit’s calloused, thick from years of hero work, his skin hot in your mouth like a cookie was right out of the oven, when you were too impatient to let them cool, instead savouring the dough melting in your mouth. wrapping your lips around his finger, your eyes are still locked on his, hardly sucking at the digit when he breaks the eye contact, heavy eyelids fluttering shut with a deep groan at the sensation of your tongue and lips around the third knuckle. he sounded even better than he did down the phone; so gravelly, like the noise was alien to his vocal chords.

“then, you don’t have to touch me,”

neither of you have shed a single piece of clothing, he hasn’t even touched you, you’ve barely touched him, yet, his head rolls back when you moan around his finger, licking at his hand like you were trying to taste his leaking cock, your ministrations hardly helping the pre steadily dribbling from his tip. enji’s hips jump when your tongue dips in the webbing between his fingers, any apprehension melting inside him with every pulse of his echoing heartbeat, desperation thrumming in his veins, the need to feel your drool dripping down his cock, to feel the heat of your cunt beneath the red lace of your panties. he throbs with the need to sink into you, he’d fuck you on the floor of his office right now if it meant he could see your pretty pussy dripping with his cum. unfortunately, instead of your creamy slick gathering in his palm, sliding down to his wrist, it’s your saliva, drooling from your bottom lip onto his thick skin, dripping onto the front of his trousers to make a patch on the front mirroring the ever-growing one on his boxers.

“i won’t touch you unless you decide it,” your voice is like an angels chorus, even as devilishly sultry as it was.

“huh-i’m—” breathing heavily, enji’s voice is garbled, his mouth drawing into a tight line, every muscle in his body tensing when you bob your head, sucking his fingers deeper into your throat like you were trying to milk his dick. your hair falls onto your face when his hips jolt off the chair, his hips pushing his palm into your face, his ring finger pressing against the back of your tongue. his resolve is melting, his hips grinding shakily into the air the longer you sucked at his hand in his lap, your soft lips wrapping around the ring beneath his last knuckle, the sensation of your teeth against his skin forcing a rumbling groan from his chest. gold ring between your teeth, you sensually drag your tongue along the underside of his finger, setting every nerve on fire with the tip of your wet muscle fluttering against every ridge of his knuckles.

he’s fucking ruined above you, bulky thighs raising off of the office chair in search of your wet, hot mouth to release into, his hair sticking up in every direction from his fingers constantly tugging on the ends, the veins in his throat shining with sweat at every heavy thrum of his blood. with white knuckles, his abdomen tenses, every muscle in his body fighting against the urge to cum, to wait until he had you beneath him, on top of him, on his face would be less fucking shameful than making a mess of his boxers from a little pseudo-blowjob.

enji mumbles something, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to make any discernible words, especially not over the sound of your slurping at his fingers, he sounded more like he was huffing and grunting than speaking, the sound clawing itself out of his throat when his eyes screw shut, his muscles losing the fight to restrain himself.

shuddering, every solid muscle relaxes at once, the tension ebbing, melting from his veins into pleasure when his cum spits from his hot tip, sticking the front of his boxers to his cock.

his head drops back when you sit back up on your knees, his ring looped around the tip of your tongue, his finger falling from your mouth with an audible pop in the quiet room, the only sound his heavy breathing and the shuffle of your clothes as you adjust your position.

he can fucking hear the grin in your voice spotting the dark stain at the top hero’s crotch, “still worried about your marriage, endeavor?”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

#dividers/banners by me #「endeavor」#「mercury writes」#k-atsukibakugou #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x you #enji todoroki x you #todoroki enji x you #endeavor smut #enji todoroki smut #todoroki enji smut

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justabunchofdragons · 17 days

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s8 e19 spoilers im not normal about this

wilson knowing without hesitation the names, ages, types of cancer, survival expectation and death day of 3 people who died years ago when he sees death every day is so fucking special to me. you know he hasn't forgotten any death in all his years of doctoring

wilson feeds off neediness but would rather kill himself than be pitied. "if there's even a CHANCE i die slowly in a hospital bed being gawked at and lied to about how i look i won't take it" wilson you crazy bastard.

(god there's just something about this reaction vs how house acts when he's hospitalised. i don't have the words or coherence rn but its at least a 500 word essay)

house offering to do it at his apartment (i hate this i love you im putting myself in a position where you can't leave or kick me out because i need you to know i care about you and won't let you be alone)

house explaining how much pain wilson will be in and wilson realising afterwards that he was talking from experience

house saying him and wilson have "all they need" in the apartment after wilson voicing his upset about not having a wife and kids to look after him. this whole episode is just a declaration of love. what even happened with the patient i was NOT paying attention

wilson hallucinating the kid specifically. he wants to suffer because he takes all the death and suffering on his head he DOES feel like he deserves it he just had the simultaneous realisation that he also wants to live ("would i do it all again? make the same mistakes? given half the chance, yes. yes.")

wilson sobbing about not wanting to die in an ambulance, not wanting to die in a hospital. something something amber's last moments being so painfully lucid. so clearly surrounded by death. by the failure of her own body to keep her alive. in that huge white room being able to see the bypass machine keeping her alive. hearing the heart monitor. a bed too small for the two of them. he's seen so many people die in hospitals. he's heard of so many people dying in ambulances. its the desperation of it all. the ultimate place of healing and when it fails it breaks your world into 7 billion little pieces.

something something amber died of the flu wilson the oncologist dying of cancer. "young do gooders shouldn't suffer like that"

house promising not to do it. house not lying about it. house not getting one wink of sleep because he has to check for wilson's chest rising and falling.

house clearly taking wilson's insults to heart but making sure his friend doesn't feel bad about it. head in hands.........

this point has been made to hell and back but house weighing up the vicodin and choosing alcohol instead. 1. he doesn't have a stockpile anymore. and 2. he cares so much. he cares so much. he knows his best friend might be dying on his couch and he doesn't want those last moments to be painful

wilson laughing so hard at house's stupid vacation photoshoot. i wanna bottle that joy up and listen to it when im upset

#chaos.txt #cee's house rambles #house md #house md season 8 #the c word #hilson #james wilson #gregory house #the collective watches house md

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bridgertonbabe · 6 months

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So having read the bridgerton spouse group chats by you and bridgerton family group chats by @holybatgirlz I’ve realised Benedict seems to always been one of the ones getting injured during family games night…

Does Sophie ever ban him from playing after an Injury or flat out refuse to go after she’s had all four kids and Benedict ends up back in hospital and ends up out of action for a few weeks meaning Sophie has four kids and a husband to tend to (and forces the injuring causing party to wait on him hand and foot for the duration of his Convalescence)

Also on another point… reading these makes me wanna write a family games night fic 😂😂

I feel like by the time all the spouses are married in and as they all start their families that Bridgerton game nights would become a bit calmer - only fractionally, but enough that the hospital visits aren't as frequent and the injuries sustained are far less serious. Though the Bridgertons (and Kate) remain insanely competitive to a terrifying degree, the spouses manage to limit game nights to once a year at most and then following the annual game night the spouses make it very clear how little they care for the family's version of a casual night of board/parlour games, and at the very least some of the Bridgertons take their partners feelings on board and attempt to mellow their competitiveness (kinda).

But with that being said, just because the injuries at game nights wind down, doesn't mean casualties don't occur through other competitive dumbass means...

BSSG Group Chat

Sophie: Guys I'm at the hospital.

Penelope: omg are you ok?????

Lucy: oh no what's happened?

Sophie: Ben broke his leg.

Phillip: Shit how did he manage that?

Sophie: He broke it go-karting.

Gareth:

Simon: What the ever living fuck was he doing go-karting?

Lucy: and not to be ageist - but at his age????

Phillip: The fuck is he playing at?

Gareth: i have to know

Gareth: did he go by himself?

Michael: Gareth please don't make this any more tragic for Ben or any more embarrassing for Sophie

Sophie: For your information he wasn't by himself.

Lucy: then who the hell did he go with????

Penelope: wait

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news

Phillip: Oh no

Simon: Please don't say it

Sophie: But it was a Bridgerton sibling day out

Michael: Oh for fuck's sake

Lucy: but greg told me he was going to spend the afternoon helping his mum pick up the flowers and decorations for penelope and eloise's baby shower on saturday!

Penelope:

Simon: As much as I can share in your dismay Lucy I can't say I'm remotely shocked to learn that Daphne and her siblings all lied about their whereabouts to hide the fact that they were having a sneaky go-karting afternoon 😑

Michael: I'm well aware I'm including my wife in this but do none of them have jobs??? Who goes go-karting on a Wednesday afternoon????

Phillip: Lets just be grateful that there was only one casualty from their go-karting escapade.

Sophie: ...

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news again

Simon: Sophie don't you dare

Penelope: oh god do we even want to know

Sophie: But they've all been hospitalised.

Lucy:

Michael: Why

Simon:

Michael: Why must they be like this

Gareth: just how exactly do 8 people get taken to hospital from a single go-karting afternoon?

Phillip: Soph is El ok????? I'm on my way right now

Sophie: She's ok Phil and so is the baby, she's just got a sprained wrist. She fared the best out of them all injury wise.

Penelope: El's fared the best???????

Michael:

Michael: Just what exactly is the extent of the damages we're talking here @ Sophie

Sophie: So Colin has a broken leg to match Ben's, Anthony's in a neck brace, Fran's fractured a couple of ribs, Daph's fractured her arm while Greg's broken his and has bruised his coccyx, and Hy's broken her big toe and is currently sporting an eye patch.

Penelope: COLIN'S BROKEN HIS LEG???????

Penelope: I'm 4 weeks away from giving birth wtf am I supposed to do with Limpy for a husband?!?!?!?

Lucy: ffs greg and i were supposed to be playing tennis with hermione and my brother this sunday 😤

Gareth: at least this isn't your wife:

Gareth: and soph how exactly did hy end up with an eye patch from go-karting?

Sophie: Greg shot her.

Lucy: HE DID WHAT

Simon: He shot her?????

Michael: Wow Greg shot Hy?

Michael: Honestly I would have imagined Fran snapping before Greg

Gareth: @ Sophie if you've previously failed to mention that my wife is wearing an eye patch because she's been blinded in that eye NOW WOULD BE THE TIME TO MENTION IT

Sophie: Relax she hasn't been blinded, it's just precautionary until the swelling's gone down.

Lucy: CAN WE GET BACK TO THE PART WHERE MY HUSBAND SHOT HIS SISTER

Penelope: yeah wtf is Greg doing with a gun????

Simon: And why does he have one for go-karting?!?!??!

Sophie: Ok so it was a BB gun he was using

Lucy: AND HE HAD IT BECAUSE?!?!?!?!?

Sophie: Well you're all going to love this

Sophie: They weren't just doing regular go-karting

Phillip: What

Sophie: They were doing it Mario Kart style.

Michael:

Simon: I actually can't stand them.

Gareth: not to be pedantic but they don't have guns in mario kart

Gareth: did they get it mixed up with gta coz that would make way more sense with all of the injuries they've acculumated

Lucy: are you seriously telling me they were driving go-karts around a track while shooting at each other??????

Penelope: I'm a month away from giving birth to a Bridgerton baby 🙃

Sophie: Basically they were using an assortment of items like hurling banana peels and pouring out oil on the track to make the others slip, they were throwing frisbees and balls at each other which were meant to be like shells and they had a variety of water/nerf/BB guns to take each other out that way. All of which contributed to the massive pile up that caused most of their injuries.

Michael: God almighty

Gareth: question; was hy not wearing a helmet?

Sophie: She was but she had the visor open after Eloise sprayed it over with paint which was how she ended up getting shot.

Kate: Omfg

Kate: I cannot believe this!

Sophie: It's a lot to take in I know.

Kate: I can't believe they didn't invite me!

Michael: Kate do you even care that your husband is in a neck brace?

Kate: Well that's what he fucking gets for not including me! Karma's a bitch and so is Anthony!

Simon: @ Kate

Phillip: God can you imagine what Violet's reaction to this is going to be when she finds out?

Sophie: No need to imagine she already knows.

Penelope: omfg

Gareth: damn you already told on them???

Sophie: Violet was the first person I told as soon as I heard about it all. I'm sick to death of them all acting like this and being so stupidly reckless. Not one of them even stopped to think that it might not be a good idea and now I've got to see after 4 kids with an invalid for a husband, and the rest of their injuries will come as just as great an inconvenience to all of you as well!

Sophie: So yeah I immediately went to Violet to tell on them because I want her to wipe the absolute floor with them for being so thoughtless!!!!!

Penelope:

Gareth:

Michael: You did what had to be done Soph and for that I applaud you 👏👏👏

Sophie: But that's not all, I'm also punishing Ben for being so feckless.

Kate: Oooh kinky

Sophie: Far from it. For starters when I got here Ben wanted to cuddle Vi to cheer himself up but I told him no and that he's getting no snuggles with her from now until his cast comes off.

Gareth: holy shit you're gate-keeping his own daughter from him

Lucy:

Lucy: and i love it

Michael: How quickly did he start to cry?

Sophie: Instantaneously. It was incredibly rewarding.

Sophie: And I'd encourage you all to do the same with your respective Bridgerton in whatever way you see fit.

Penelope: once Colin's home I'll keep offering him food but then just sit and eat it right in front of him 😈😈😈

Gareth: i'm going to get a toy parrot and perch it on hy's shoulder and call her patchy 🦜

Simon: I'm not even going to bother picking Daph up from the hospital. She has to learn she can't keep pulling stunts like this as a mother of four.

Simon: That and I've already started drinking to deal with this nonsense so I couldn't even if I had to.

Phillip: I'm going to make El take and stay with the twins at back to back children's parties this weekend. She'll absolutely fucking hate it.

Kate: I'm just going to laugh in Anthony's face. Probably get the kids to join in too.

Lucy: damn i'm not sure what i'm going to do with greg

Michael: I'm going to withhold sex.

Penelope: damn that's a bold move

Simon: But is that going to be more of a punishment for her or you?

Michael: Not to give you all too much of an insight but that's going to kill Fran more than you'd think it would.

Michael: But that's what she gets for going along with her fam's unhinged competitive behaviour.

Michael: No more snu snu.

Penelope: I actually think if we all withheld sex from our respective partners that they might finally learn their lesson.

Lucy: that's... actually a very valid point that could very much work

Kate: Well we don't call them sex idiots for nothing.

Michael: They're essentially a bunch of horny Tinkerbells; they need sex to live.

Simon: I truly hate that sentiment. But you're not wrong.

Michael: So are you all following my lead? It's your own choice obvs, no pressure if anyone would prefer not to.

Gareth: i'm not exactly chomping at the bit to be having snu snu with patchy

Kate: Yeah neck braces don't make for a turn on either.

Penelope: And being this pregnant I'm not really in the mood for it as it is.

Sophie: Like I'm going to have the time or energy seeing after the kids while Ben's bedridden anyway.

Lucy: fine by me

Simon: I have 0 qualms with this method of punishment.

Phillip: Same here.

Michael: Then it's no snu snu all around! Vive le resistance!

#asks #group chat au #bridgerton spouses #obviously the no snu snu rule wouldn't have lasted for too long at all #but the spouses would have at least had some satisfaction in making their partners suffer for the time that they did

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saintslewis · 6 months

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐀: 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 🪩

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem oc; Nadia Hamilton

summary: social media posts from the most recent chapter! <3

warnings: twitter environment, cussing

saint’s team radio 🎀: 2 for the price of 1 😝. did not mean to take so long so here’s a little gift 🫶🏽

pic credit: pinterest and ig!

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig

plastic off the sofa: chapter 7

renaissance: the masterlist

Twitter!

Instagram!

nadiahamilton

liked by taylorrussell, normani and 3,484,913 others

nadiahamilton versace x dua lipa.

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user i don’t think you understand what you’ve done now

nataliatheedon you’re actually unreal WHAT

latto777 it’s actually so unfair that he gets you to himself

iamcardib like it’s actually pissing me off rn

amaraonmars this is insanity. do it again

jackharlow oh you was serious

user white boy, what are you talking abt? 🤨

user probably something at the party

user and dare i ask who took the photos….

user there could only be one selfish man who did this

user not you calling him selfish 😭😭😭

lewishamilton had to take a breather

charlottieee we’ll give you your pump, grandpa

fencer THIS IS SO CRAZY???

nataliatheedon CHARLOTTE YOU CAN’T SAY THAT 😭

lewishamilton hi mrs hamilton

nadiahamilton hi 🤭

user they had to remind y’all REAL QUICK

nadiahamilton

liked by bellahadid, zendaya and 845,246 others

nadiahamilton hello monaco! (can we pls focus on how good he looked)

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user publicly thirsting over him, aren’t you embarrassed?

user girl that’s her husband…..

carmenmmundt we need to get together like that soon, it was so much fun!

lilymhe i felt like i was in a chick flick

francisca.cgomes not when you tripped and your ice cream fell ‼️

alexandrasaintmleux kika let’s be nice but YES tinkerbell, i need another girl’s day or else i will combust

user YOUR SHIRT??????

nadiahamilton super cute right?

user it’s so iconic!!!!

user nadia liked and favourited an edit of mine, just wanted to flex 🙏

user now why would you expose that girl’s secret like that (share the edit)

nataliatheedon monaco isn’t a real place, hope that helps!

nadiahamilton if i were you, i’d keep quiet 🫵🏽

nataliatheedon 😧

user i have the slightest feeling that you can cook, can you?

nadiahamilton yes?

user since no one is talking about it, yes he looked so good that day Nadia

nadiahamilton THANK YOU LIKE SOMETHING WAS IN THE AIR THAT DAY

f1femmepost

liked by fanpage, fanpage and many others

f1femmepost bumping into nadiahamilton was the highlight of our Monaco Grand Prix weekend! Tell us what your favourite interview moments were!

view comments!

user “is this one of those tiny mics?? I LOVE TINY MICS”

user “i promise you, go up to one of these white people and they will give you a paddock pass. i’ve seen it.”

user “sorry i gotta fix my nose ring hold up”

user “there are days where he sounds incredibly british and it’s just so interesting to hear.” “but he is-” “and that’s what makes it better!”

user “these are my ladies, those drivers couldn’t stand a CHANCE!”

user a dog and its owner walk by: “omg look at it, i wanna squeeze that dog.”

user “i won’t hold you, i’m craving a big ass bowl of pasta rn.”

user *sings in the most angelic voice you’ve ever heard*

user “i’ll never stop being a teacher, it’s so much fun.”

user “if you’ve got extremely blue eyes, do not stare at people, it’s so scary. i’m talking about you, pierre gasly.”

user “omg you’re craving cupcakes? let’s go get them!”

user “you like that bag from gucci? let’s go get it.”

user “i love laying on the floor so much.”

f1femmepost because of all these posts, we love Nadia Hamilton so much! 🫶🏽

saint’s notes 🎀: this took so long yoh, hope you enjoyed!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #saint writes #renaissance: the series #thank you for 750!!! love you all

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princeloww · 2 months

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i talked about it in an unrelated post but i'm vaguely planning a takin' over the asylum fanfic and wanna know if people would be interested in reading it (this may be after I finish my current ongoing fic)

- Campbell's dad dies suddenly, forcing Campbell to awkwardly reconnect with the rest of his family, including his 2 siblings mentioned in the TOTA play

- His dad's death gets him out of St. Judes for a while, and returning home leads him to reflect on the events that lead up to his hospitalisation in the first place

- From here, we cut between the past (pre-hospitalisation) and the present, whilst Campbell's complicated feelings over his father's death bring his unresolved, Fergus-centric grief to the surface

Might have some mature themes, like suicide and self-harm, particularly in the past parts. Would feature the other patients but not very heavily. Also probably wouldn't be that long - maybe 10 chapters or so

Thoughts?

#david tennant #takin over the asylum #campbell bain #ao3 #writers on tumblr

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flonkertn · 1 year

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jj maybank x kook!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : implied abuse, mention of luke, jj is hospitalised, i think theres swearing?, a tiny bit angsty

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.4k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : when her dad leaves for the mainland, y/n basks in the freedom of her house and leads her relationship with JJ. but her freedom is too good to be true when JJ is beaten half to death and hospitalised.

𝐚/𝐧 : based on this request, tysm!! i loved writing it sm it was so fun and i rlly wanna write more about a kook!reader with JJ

The insistent buzzing kept you from your sleep in such an agonising manner and seemed to be causing it’s own earthquake on the nighstand that sits next to you. You figured it was just a wrong number, a scam or maybe even a drunken friend who dialled your number by mistake for the third time this week, but by the sounds of it, the ringing didn’t seem to be coming to a halt, and you were so desperate to silence it.

Sigh after sigh escaped from your lips as you began to sat up, the duvet drifting away from it’s place on your body and resting on top of your calfs. You scoffed whilst your arm made it’s way over to the source of sound, as though the phone would notice your tone and shut itself up to save your mood, but when the light of Kiara’s contact filled your eyes, your breathing almost stopped.

“Kie? What’s wrong? You never call this late.”

How late it really was you weren’t sure, but if you were in bed, it was already late enough to rouse suspicion as to why she needed to talk so urgently, opting for repeated phone calls instead of a regular text message.

“It’s JJ.” Her voice sounded hoarse and breathless, tears becoming apparent when she spoke as she almost whispered down the phone, tone laced with worry and fear.

The past year with JJ had been stressful, to say the least. You knew your father already disapproved of your relationship with the Pogues, his obsession with the island’s hierarchy controlling your every move, but once he heard that Sarah and Kiara were spending their time with you, he seemed to ease up;his mind set at rest with the knowledge that at least half-Kooks where apart of the group.

But when word got round that you were dating one, he lost his mind. He couldn’t even comprehend that his precious Kook daughter, royalty of Outer Banks, could ever love a piece of shit like JJ, as he so lovingly puts it. And yet, you could.

You loved JJ more than you ever imagined was possible, it was more than what love is made out to be in fairytales and cheesy rom-coms, it was so much more than that, it was life-consuming and brain-rotting and had you melting whenever he simply peeked his way into your eye-line, and nothing was going to get in the way of that, not even your family. You convinced your dad that the relationship was fiction, that his country club friends were victims to the gossip that was spread through brunches and golf sessions and fuelled by bottomless mimosas and scotch.

Thankfully, he bought it, after a week of you, along with Sarah and Kiara, partaking in said brunches and adorning yourself with diamonds and stepping up to the royal pedestal your dad had built for you. A perfect ruse for a stupid man.

Since then, you’d kiss your father goodbye each afternoon and spend countless nights with JJ, hours dedicated to taking pictures of you and Sarah in multiple different outfits one evening just incase your dad requested evidence of your whereabouts.

And when your father informed you that he was spending the next month and a half on the mainland for business, leaving you with an open house and an open schedule, you exploited the opportunity as much as humanly possible, maybe even pushing into the extraterrestrial shit, inviting JJ over every single night he could spare and roaming the island in peaceful bliss without the beady eyes of your father’s vultures watching your every move and reporting back. Having him sleep in your bed and use your shower and cook (burn food) in your kitchen, living like a married couple, how it was supposed to be.

“What happened?” You practically screamed down the phone, throwing the duvet from your bed and planting your feet firmly on the floor, reaching for your shorts as you secured the phone between your cheek and shoulder, ready to move at her beck and call.

“He’s in the hospital. I’m not sure what happened, Y/N/N, but he’s out cold. He needs you.” That statement alone had your body shaking, the pain in Kiara’s voice making the severity of the situation abundantly clear and shooting spurs of adrenaline up and down your spine as you moved to collect the necessities, sprinting out the door within mere seconds.

The drive there was silent, obviously you couldn’t talk to yourself, but your usual booming music had been exchanged for your raging heartbeat, which echoed within your ears and making your entire body vibrate, you could’ve sworn the car was shaking from it as well but maybe that’s just the nerves.

You were sure you’d broken the speed limit, and you were sure you hadn’t parked the car properly, not sparing it a glance and assuming it would simply roll out of the car park with a wide open door on the driver’s side, but none of that mattered, especially when Kiara’s words continued to resonate in your tightened chest, replaying in your mind like a chorus while your feet matched the rhythmic thumping of your head and provided an unhealthy percussion.

“What room is he in?” The nurse at the front desk just stared blankly back at you, watching as you shook your head and sighed, hands clenching and grasping at nothing on top of the cold marble of the countertop, which clawed at your previously warm fingertips and sucked the heat from them.

“Sorry, what room is JJ Maybank in?” Your eyes were apologetic as you withdrew slightly from the nurse, her slow nod as she scanned her computer and pressed the keys ever so gently, filling you with hope and easing the pace of your breathing, a pace which was sure to kill you if you didn’t see JJ soon.

“Room 403, the elevator is down the hall.”

You bolted through the room, shouting many thank yous to the nurse as you repeatedly pressed the elevator button, mimicking the earlier buzzing of your phone which picked up again in your pocket. Kiara again.

“What’s happened? I’m coming up now.” You informed her, voice frantic and panicked, not letting her squeeze a word in before you, fingers picking up the pace as the doors refused to open, blatantly ignoring your mutters and curses at them.

“He’s fine, don’t worry. It just looks like he’s starting to wake up and I wondered where you were.” Kie’s tone was calmer now, tears dried and legs crossed in a plushy armchair that sat close to JJ’s body, her hand gripping his.

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just need these goddamn doors to open!” An involuntary shout left your lips, drawing unwanted attention to you and your outburst, which came at an unfortunate time as the doors chose to open just as you caused a scene.

Sighing and rolling your eyes, you stepped into the lift and muttered something to Kiara, pushing the number ‘4’ in the lift before hanging up, tapping your foot on the floor impatiently, as if the elevator would notice and speed up.

Eventually, you found yourself in room 403, edging closer to JJ and reaching out for him, closing the distance between the two of you and plopping down next to his body, scanning his face and peering through the tears that began to form along your waterline, waiting for his own eyes to lift open.

“His heart stopped on the way here.”

John B’s flat tone pulled your gaze away from the blonde boy, his body resting against the back wall with his head turned to face the window, watching the world go by and trying to ignore the pain his closest friend was in, wishing it all away in his mind.

“Fucking Luke.” Spit fell from his mouth the same time as the anger fell from him, watching as Sarah moved closer to his frame and cupping his face with her warm palm.

Your fingers rubbed against JJ’s knuckles, tracing the cuts and scars that sit on his hands, twitching slightly under your touch.

You don’t even notice Kie coming up behind you and giving you a quick hug, moving to rub circles into your back whilst her other hand twirled strands of your hair between her fingers.

“His heart did stop in the ambulance, but only for a second, and he’s okay now. I promise you he’ll be fine, the nurse assured so.” Her voice was barely a whisper, careful not to agitate John B further, leaning in a little to amplify the comfort she was providing you with.

“You said he was waking up.” Your breathing slowed but your tone was still panicked, eyes flickering between JJ’s closed lids as you let out a shaky breath, leaning back into Kiara’s touch.

“It looked like he was, but he didn’t manage to.”

And then the room fell silent, the only noise present being the rustling of the wrinkled, polyester bed sheets whenever you adjusted your position and the slowed, heaving breath of each body in the room. Each respected couple cornered off, one comforting the other desperately;John B’s head pressed into the crook of Sarah’s neck as she fiddled with the loose strands of hair that sit on his nape, Cleo’s hands working to ease the pain in Pope’s chest, their legs tangled together on the arm chair, sat facing one another, a soft smile playing on Cleo’s lips as she tried to reassure him, and Kiara stood behind your figure, massaging your shoulders and neck in order to relieve the pressure you felt and allow you to breathe easier.

But one by one they all left, Kie pressing a soft kiss to your temple and pulling the chair over to you as she picked her bag up off the floor, making you promise that you’d sleep before trudging out the door, reluctant to leave you alone but not wanting to anger her parents anymore that she already had.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sat there, clinging onto JJ’s hand for dear life as you whispered to him, convinced that he could hear you as you begged him to wake up, wishing he would just open his eyes and fight.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Dappled sunlight peeked through the gaps in the closed blinds and pressed onto your skin, tugging at your eyelids as it pulled you from your sleep.

Your pupils dilated when you finally opened your eyes, not even because of the light exposure, because of JJ’s eyes staring back at you, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as his hand rested against your waist.

You’d ended up falling asleep next to him, after asking the nurse it was alright to lie in the same bed, you drew the blinds and placed your body next to JJ;head pressed into his chest and your legs coming up to rest gently on his hips.

“JJ!” You pressed your lips against his and cupped his face with your hands, finally gaining the warmth of his face on yours that you so desperately needed to calm you down.

That was until he started tapping your back and whining into your mouth, causing you to pull back and apologise, becoming abundantly clear that the action was hurting him.

Nonetheless, you moved to play with his hair, brushing it away from his forehead and fiddling with the strands that covered his eyes.

And you stayed like that for hours, looking at each other as you both explained your perspectives of the previous night, both of your fingers glued to the other’s body, his fingers coming up to gently scratch against your scalp.

In fact, you stayed like that for two weeks, insisting that you feed JJ and care for him as much as he lets you, often pushing over his boundaries, not caring if it makes him feel inferior and weak, he is weak, as you kept telling him.

The only time you leave his side is to pick up clothes and toiletries and any other necessities for the both of you, giving yourself a half-hour time limit and forcing a nurse to stay in the room just because you aren’t there. But besides that, you stay by his side relentlessly, only ever standing to stretch your legs by process of pacing at the end of his bed, or to use the bathroom, or to fetch him food. You left him more than you anticipated to but if you walked out of the room for more than two minutes you called him, speaking to him through the phone so he wasn’t without company.

You eventually felt as though he was sick of you, getting tired of your constant coddling and need to be within his line of vision.

JJ, however, couldn’t get enough of you, basking in the care that you show him and sometimes even playing up his pain just so you’ll kiss him more. He loved you more than words could describe, and each time you smiled, beamed up at him from the book you had buried your nose in or from your place on his chest, he felt his heart-rate pick up and push against his chest, calling to rip open his body and hug you itself.

“You aren’t sick of me are you? ‘Cause I can leave if you want and give you some space, ju-“ He pushed a wide palm against your mouth and leant in, replacing a hand with his lips in a quick kiss.

“I could never get sick of you princess, and I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me forever.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, your entire face turning bright red as you scrunched the bridge of your nose and kissed him, not bothering to care wether or not you were hurting him.

“Even if I’m begging you to leave because you’re just sooo annoying and clingy.” He mumbled against your mouth, whining out when you slapped his chest.

“Ow! That hurts and you know it.” His eyebrows were raised and his tongue pushed against his teeth to prevent the smile that was urgently pulling at his lips from showing.

“I don’t care.”

Your face contradicted your words however, smiling so widely that your cheeks ached and your eyes glistening at him. Filled with love.

Not fairytale love or cheesy rom-com love, but real, pure love. The kind that consumes your life and rots your brain and melts you whenever that one blonde boy makes his way into your eye-line.

The kind of love that stays with you forever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @runningfrom2am

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #kook!reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #request #request fic #rudy pankow #rudy #outer banks #obx #obx fic #outer banks fic #fic

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fortheloveofwonderland · 9 months

Text

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 19 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke Alvez wakes in the middle of the night to find his worst fears materialised on his doorstep. While Spencer fights for his life, Luke takes a trip to PIW.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - drug use, overdose, relapse, hospitalisation, comas, attempted suicide, suicide note, heavy angst, seizures, tears, scared Luke, swearing.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter 19 - Away From the Sun

Luke Alvez rubbed his eyes with his palms, trying to shush Roxy’s barking as he padded out of the bedroom half asleep.

“It’s ok, girl.” He croaked, patting her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

The nothing he referred to had been a loud crashing sound coming from directly outside his front door. It was nearly two am and the sound had woken him up, he’d always been a light sleeper. Roxy was spinning in circles, running back and forth from Luke to the door while Luke slowly ambled across the room.

He reached the door but had been too tired to think to grab his weapon so instead of opening it he peeked through the peephole. The fisheye lens made it hard to distinguish what he was seeing and his foggy, sleepy brain didn’t help. There was what appeared to be a human shaped something on the floor in front of his door, slumped back against the wood.

But as he blinked a few times it was the mess of curls that really caused him alarm.

He suddenly threw open the door, heart racing heavily against his chest. The body that had been using the door to sit up, flopped to the floor in his doorway.

“Spencer?” He scrambled to grab the man’s arms and helped him to his feet.

Spencer was somewhat of a dead weight but Luke managed to get him up right. The younger man blinked at him, an eerie smile on his lips.

“Luke.” He breathed.

Roxy tried to nuzzle against Spencer as Luke got him inside and closed the door so he shooed her away.

“Bed girl.” He told her sternly and she huffed but did as she was told. “What are you doing here?”

Spencer blinked a few more times, leaning his body against the now closed door as though he physically could hold himself up.

“Didn’t know where else to go. Didn’t wanna go home.” He slurred his words.

“Why aren’t you at PIW?”

Spencer shrugged, the effort of which caused him to wobble.

“Assholes wouldn’t let me and Y/N be together. They begrudged us for having sex.” He giggled, a sound Luke had never heard from Spencer’s lips. “Left. Just left. Assholes pissed me off.”

The fear that consumed Luke at that moment was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d been in war zones, he’d chased down some of the worst criminals this world had ever seen but it was nothing compared to the terror he felt now.

Spencer’s pupils were non-existent, his shirt was undone half way down his chest and stained with dirt. His left sleeve was rolled up to his bicep and Luke’s stomach turned at the fresh, pulsing needle mark on the crook of his arm.

“Spencer, what have you taken?” It was a stupid question, but he still needed to check.

Spencer fished in his pants pocket and pulled out a glass vial. He handed it to Luke without a fight. As he handed it over, Luke noticed his fingernails had a blue tint to them. When he looked back at his face, he realised now that Spencer’s lips were the same blue shade. A sheen of sweat coated his skin and suddenly his breathing started to become shallow.

He was overdosing. He was overdosing right in front of Luke’s eyes. And if he thought he was scared before it had nothing on how he felt now. His heart beat so hard against his chest it made him feel sick, but he had to focus on Spencer, had to keep himself centred on the younger man.

“Spence, I need to know how much you’ve taken.”

Spencer shrugged again, a dreamy smile gracing his lips as he slid down the door and landed on the floor with a thud. He fell to his side, nuzzling his face into the carpet. Luke dropped to his knees next to him.

Spencer looked at him, eyes glazed over so Luke wasn’t even sure he was looking at him really. He reached out and pressed two fingers to the back of Luke’s hand. Spencer’s skin was frozen.

“Didn’t want to die alone.” He croaked, breathing getting even shallower. “Don’t let me die alone.”

And then suddenly he started convulsing, his muscles spasming and his eyes rolling back in his head. Luke gasped loudly, rolling him onto his back.

“Jesus Christ.” He started to panic watching the man seizing on his floor. “Fuck!”

He leapt to his feet and ran as fast as he could back through to his bedroom where he found his cellphone and speedily dialled nine-one-one. Whilst on the phone to the operator he grabbed something from his bathroom cabinet and quickly hurried back to Spencer’s side.

“You have to hurry, please. He’s going to die if you don’t hurry!” Was the last thing Luke said before he hung up and tossed the phone aside.

Dropping back to his knees next to Spencer he ripped open the packet of the item he’d grabbed from the bathroom. After the night Luke had seen Spencer in the hospital with the self-inflicted stab wound, and explaining it all to Lisa, she’d written the whole team scripts for naloxone.

Naloxone was known specifically for its use to reduce and potentially reverse the effects of opioid overdose. She’d insisted they all carried a shot just in case they should ever need it. He’d hoped he never would.

He gripped Spencer’s wrist and held his left arm as still as possible while Spencer still writhed on the floor. He uncapped the needle with his teeth, spitting the cap out somewhere across the room. Spencer’s veins weren’t hard to miss given his previous activities and it allowed Luke to quickly pierce the skin and inject the possibly life saving drug into his vein.

The effects of naloxone, Lisa had told him, can begin within two minutes when administered intravenously. It can block the effects of opioids for thirty to ninety minutes. He may just have enough time. He couldn’t let Spencer die here like this, not on his watch.

He sat back on his haunches while Spencer’s limbs slowly stopped flying around. His breathing had all but stopped and he had to hope the naloxone would kick in soon. But regardless, he couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

He knelt over Spencer’s body and started chest compressions, hopefully enough to keep the younger man alive until the drug kicked in. He knew more about heroin overdoses than he cared to, he’d read countless articles online after he’d found Spencer at the hospital that night.

Heroin prevents the medulla in the brain from making you breathe when oxygen levels fall and carbon dioxide levels rise in your blood, causing respiratory depression. Overdoses occur more easily in people who have relapsed because they’ve lost their tolerance.

He continued the chest compressions, counting in his head as he did so. Everything after that was a blur.

The paramedics arrived and had to physically pull Luke off of Spencer so they could get to him. He vaguely remembered telling them about the naloxone, following them downstairs and jumping in the back of the ambulance.

The drive to the hospital seemed to simultaneously last a lifetime and only a few minutes all at once. It was only when he jumped out of the back into the cold night outside the hospital emergency department that it occurred to Luke he was only wearing his boxers and a t-shirt.

Roxy is home alone. Need to call the sitter. Need some clothes. Someone needs to bring me clothes.

Need to call Emily.

He barely remembered the conversation that took place when he called his unit chief, and had no concept of how much time passed before she arrived at the hospital. He must have mentioned his lack of clothes as she brought some for him. By the time he dressed the rest of the team had now joined them to await their friend's fate, to see if Luke had done enough to save Spencer’s life.

Luke didn’t speak again for several hours, despite his team's attempts to get him to talk. He just kept playing everything over in his head on a loop, trying to make sense of it. Emily sat vigil at his side and when he finally did speak, his voice was haggard and croaky.

“Didn’t want to die alone. Don’t let me die alone.” He mumbled, not looking at her but staring at a spot on the far wall.

“What?” Emily questioned softly.

“That's what he said to me.” A tear crept from Luke’s eye. “He knew he was dying and he chose to be with me at the end.”

“He’s not going to die.” Tara, who was apparently on his other side, spoke. “He will not die.”

Luke hoped that was true, he needed it to be true. But he had a sinking feeling in his gut that this time Spencer had gone too far, that there was no coming back from it this time.

And if he died, Luke would spend the rest of his life blaming himself.

***

It was the longest night of any of their lives. The minutes stretched into hours, hours felt like they encompassed days. Not knowing was the hardest part, being kept in the dark about Spencer’s condition. The team got pulled away on a case, much to all of their frustrations but Luke, understandably, refused to leave. Emily allowed him to stay behind while the rest of them flew out to Ohio.

Garcia left to get her laptop before rejoining Luke at the hospital but he barely noticed her presence. He was lost in his own little world that started and ended with the possibility of Spencer dying.

Hours later a doctor finally approached them and Luke instantly snapped out of his state and jumped to his feet, heart racing erratically. Garcia had stepped out to speak to the team about something she’d found pertaining to the case so Luke was alone again.

“How is he? Is he ok?” Luke spoke frantically, trying to read the doctor's expression and failing.

“He’s stable for now. But he’s yet to regain consciousness. He’s fallen into a coma but we have no way to know when he will wake up, if he ever does. The naloxone you administered might have saved his life, Mister Alvez. If he doesn’t wake up, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could, but with his history of drug abuse, there really is no telling if he’ll make it through this or if his body has simply had too much.”

“Can I see him?” Luke asked, not particularly wanting to dwell on the doctor's words.

“Of course, follow me.” The doctor motioned towards the door and Luke followed silently.

He tried not to let himself think about what awaited him in Spencer’s hospital room, he’d seen him in that state not so long ago and he dreaded having to witness it again. So he pushed it down and didn’t let himself consider it.

The doctor showed him to Spencer’s room and left him alone soon after. Luke closed his eyes as he gripped the door handle, his stomach turning and lurching as he tried to control his breathing.

When he opened the door, the scene was much the same as it had been a few months ago when Emily had called them to tell them Spencer had overdosed. His eyes were closed, an IV drip was attached to his arm and machines beeped and whirred around him.

His skin was almost matching in colour to the white bedsheets, his hair lay lifelessly across the pillow. He looked peaceful, which was at least something. But Luke had hoped he’d never have to see his friend in this position again.

“Goddammit, Reid.” Luke sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he came closer to the bed.

The horrible reality set in that this man wanted to die more than anything else in the world. The kindest thing to do would be just put him out of his misery, a mercy killing of sorts. At least then he might finally be able to say goodbye to his demons. But of course Luke would rather Spencer wake up and defeat them rather than running from them.

At some point as he stared at Spencer’s still form, tears started to silently roll down his cheeks. Each time he’d had to witness one of his friends in trouble, it chipped a little away from him. And as of late that had happened so much Luke was surprised there was anything left of him.

From seeing Spencer in prison to almost losing Emily at the hands of Mr Scratch, Phil’s death, Lisa leaving him and then Spencer’s multiple attempts on his own life; it weighed heavily on the usually unflappable Luke Alvez. If Spencer died, he knew he wouldn’t recover from that.

He looked away from Spencer, the noise from the machines letting him know that at least for now he was still alive. On the chair sat a clear plastic bag with Spencer clothes and belongings inside and Luke picked it up so he could slide into the chair.

He rested the bag on his lap, drumming his fingers against it for a few moments before curiosity got the better of him and he emptied the contents from the bag. He bypassed his slacks, creased shirt and old converse, discarding them on the floor.

The other items included a couple of hundred dollar bills, an empty vial of dilaudid, his apartment keys, a slightly worn purple and gold woven bracelet and a crinkled envelope.

Luke turned the envelope over in his hands and his heart skipped a beat seeing the one word written on the front in Spencer’s chicken scratch handwriting. One word. One name.

Luke.

He looked up from the envelope to Spencer and back again before he hurriedly ripped the seal on the envelope and pulled out the sheet of legal paper inside. His mouth was bone dry, his hands trembling a little as he tried to unfold the paper. More tears escaped his eyes as he read the letter in his head.

Luke,

I’m sorry I failed you, I've failed all of you. I really wanted to get clean, for a time I did anyway. For a small window I really wanted to sort my life out. But as Gideon once told me, some people are beyond saving. And I fear I became one of them.

If you’re reading this letter, you’re probably being handed it by a hospital worker and I am probably already dead. I’m sorry I put this on you, I’m sorry you had to be the one. But truthfully even though we’ve not known each other all that long, you’re the one person I wanted to be with at the end.

I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that you’ll have to live with that. But if it helps at all, I’m sure having you there as I take my final breaths will comfort me even if it doesn’t do the same to you.

I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for this world.

Luke paused to wipe his eyes as his tears started to hinder his vision. He rubbed them heavily with his palms, a stifled sob leaving his throat before he forced himself to continue.

If by some stroke of luck I survive this, Luke I need you to do something for me. I need you to have me committed. Like really committed, padded cell committed. I can’t do it myself, I’ll back out. I need you to do that for me, to save me from myself. Please. I need your help.

I will fight you on it, I’m sure of it, but I need you to do this. No matter what I say, it’s the best place for me right now. I know you’ll help me, I know you’ll do this for me without getting overly invested like JJ or Penelope or even Emily. You’re the only one I can trust to help me.

I apologise in advance how much I will try to fight you on it but deep down I know it’s where I need to be. The only way I’m ever likely to finally beat this is if I’m locked away from temptation and out of harm's way.

If I survive this. But truthfully I hope that I don’t. I’m sick of it all, you know? I’m just sick and I’m tired. Death has to offer some kind of relief. I don’t believe in the afterlife as you know, but honestly I’m just looking forward to the peace and quiet that death will bring. I can’t go on like this anymore, and I think somewhere inside of you, you’ll understand that.

Tell my mom I love her and that I always will, even in death that doesn’t change. Give Y/N her bracelet back for me, but I think it would be best if she doesn’t know the truth. She’s struggling with her own sobriety and I don’t want to be the reason behind her downfall.

Give Henry and Michael a hug goodbye from me and tell the team not to blame themselves. Don’t blame yourself either, whatever you do, don’t blame yourself.

My death is not on your head. I just wasn’t strong enough to handle all the blows that have been dealt to me. I’m sorry it had to be you. I think we grew close pretty quickly and you became one of my best friends, Luke. There wasn’t anyone else I wanted by my side at the end.

I’m really not sure how to end this and in truth I still have so much more to say. But I don’t want to take up anymore of anyone’s time, I’ve already burdened you all so much.

Oscar Wilde wrote - “Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grass waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace.”

I so want to be at peace,

Spencer W. Reid

The smudges on the page indicated Spencer had been crying as he’d written it and fresh tears from Luke’s eyes joined the dried ones. Luke read and reread the letter several times, soaking in each word and committing them to memory.

His heart ached for his friend. His heart shattered at the evidence before him of Spencer’s fractured state of mind. Maybe death would be the better option for him, to finally be at peace.

Garcia found him soon after and he quickly tucked the letter away in his pocket, not quite ready to share it with anyone else just yet. It wouldn’t help anyone else to read it, it would only upset them. For now they all just needed to focus on Spencer and pray he would make it through this.

And if he didn’t, then maybe Luke would rethink sharing his last words with the team.

***

It was over a week since Spencer had abruptly left PIW and you’d missed him for every single second of that time. It was strange how you’d found yourself so bound to a man you barely knew, how much his absence had affected you.

You carried his chip around in your pocket and now you sat in your bed twirling it over in your palm. You’d spent one night together in a drug fuelled sexual frenzy in which you’d imprinted on him. Clearly he’d also had the same impression on you.

When he approached you for the first time in the rose garden there was something hauntingly familiar about him, as though you’d met in some kind of past life and your souls had been entwined ever since.

You’d carried a hazy memory of the night you spent together somewhere deep in your subconscious and it was only when he’d made love to you in the garden that it dislodged itself and floated to the surface. You must have left a piece of your heart tangled between his bedsheets that night without your knowledge.

But you had to stick by your convictions. No matter how much your heart yearned for him, your rehabilitation had to be your focus. Being with a man who was tied to that time of your life would do you no good. He was an addict just like you and addicts would only facilitate the addictive behaviour in each other. But you couldn’t stop thinking about him which couldn’t be good for you either. It really was a catch twenty two.

Although the chances were you’d never see him again, he’d left the institute and you had no way to track him down once you finished your stay here. All you had left of him was his one year sober chip. And in turn he still had your bracelet.

You were still toying with the chip when there was a soft knock at your door. You closed your palm around it just as it opened and your doctor, Doctor Yang strolled in.

“You have a visitor. I told them to leave seeing as you don’t have an approved visitor list but they are being incredibly stubborn, flashing an FBI badge and refusing to leave.” She sighed a little as she spoke. “You don’t have to see them but I’m not sure they’re going to leave if you don’t.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. FBI badge? No, it couldn’t be Spencer, surely he wouldn’t have actively come back? But what if he had? What if he’d come back for you?

You suddenly jumped up from the bed, pocketing the chip and nodded at Doctor Yang.

“I’ll see them.” You insisted, subtly trying to smooth down your hair.

“Thank you.” Yang gave you a relieved smile. “He's in the day room.”

You followed her hurriedly from the room, heart racing with anticipation. If Spencer had come back for you, you had no doubt that you would throw yourself into his arms and tell him to never leave you again. You’d tell him you loved him, despite yourself you really did. You’d beg him to hold you forever.

You rounded the corner and stepped into the day room, eyes flitting around the room in desperation to find his face. But none of the people in the room resembled Spencer.

A man with dark hair and kind eyes was smiling at you from the table by the window, motioning you over. You frowned at him as you took a few tentative steps across the room towards him.

When you reached him, he stood up and held out a hand for you to shake. You took a few seconds of caution before complying and shaking his hand. It was large and strong, albeit slightly calloused.

“Y/N?” He said your name and you nodded as you both slid into chairs either side of the table. “I’m SSA Luke Alvez. I’m a friend of Spencer Reid.”

Your heart immediately plummeted into your stomach, sure there could only be one reason a friend of Spencer would visit you. You stuffed your hand into your pocket and clutched the chip for dear life. You averted your gaze to the table, unable to look at this man when you spoke.

“He’s dead isn’t he?” You croaked, feeling the tears already working their way to your eyes. You heard SSA Luke Alvez sigh.

“He, uh, overdosed. But he’s not dead. He’s in a coma, but he’s still alive.”

Your eyes shot up and met his. They were a deep, soothing brown and you felt comforted just looking into them.

“He’s alive.” You swallowed.

“Yeah, I mean he’s in pretty bad shape, doctors don’t know exactly if he will wake up or not. But yeah.” Luke nodded slowly. “He wrote me a letter, I think it was supposed to be a, uh, suicide note.”

You closed your eyes and grinded your teeth furiously, gripping the chip so tightly your nails dug into your palm.

“Is it my fault?” You whispered, keeping your eyes screwed tightly shut.

“No.” Luke mumbled and then you felt his hand on your arm. You opened your eyes and looked at him again. “No one is to blame, Y/N. He's a manic depressive with a drug problem. He specifically asked me in the letter not to tell you, he was worried it would impede your recovery.”

“Yet, here you are.” You narrowed your eyes on him, removing your arm from beneath his hand.

“Here I am.” He smiled sadly. “I thought you’d want to know, I guess. If it were me I’d want to know.”

“What did he tell you about me?” You surprised Luke with your words, you could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed.

“I uh, I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Did he tell you he’d manufactured a whole relationship with me in his head? He thought I was his ex-girlfriend and that I worked for the FBI.”

“Yeah.” Luke rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “When he woke up here he kept asking us about you and we had no idea who you were. When he figured out it had all been in his head, he was a complete wreck. I think coming to terms with that was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. I don’t exactly know what the real story was.”

“I’m still piecing everything together myself.” You removed your hand from your pocket and brought the chip out with it. “At some point we met while we were both high. I guess we hooked up and then went our separate ways. It wasn’t unusual for either of us I don’t think, it certainly wasn’t for me. But what was strange is the way I held onto that memory even without realising it. He stuck with me. I think he always will.”

“I think his false recollections of you were the only thing keeping him going. And when he realised they weren’t real, he found you again. I think in some kind of weird way you’re like his guardian angel.” Luke shrugged.

“I’m a drug addict who slept around with a bunch of guys while I was high.” Your lip twitched at the corner.

“I did say it was in a weird way.” Luke laughed lightly.

“You’re not here to get me to come see him are you? Because if you asked me to, I would without hesitation. But I know that if I do see him it will do me more harm than good right now.” You rolled the chip in your hand.

“No, I wouldn't ask you to do that.” Luke glanced at the chip, instantly knowing what it was, before looking back into your eyes. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Thanks.” You quickly pocketed the chip again. “I did want to know and I also didn’t want to know. But thanks.”

“You’re welcome I guess.” Luke gave you a tight lipped smile.

“I love him, you know?” You whispered, averting your gaze back to the table top. “Which is such a fucking weird thing to admit seeing as I barely know him. But I do. I love him with my entire being and I think in some kind of twisted way we’re kindred spirits. But two addicts would only ever pull each other down.”

Luke sighed, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. He didn’t want to stay away from the hospital for too long in case something happened to Spencer. You looked up at him as he stood and he saw the tears behind your eyes.

“I know for certain that he feels the same way about you. And I think deep down he would probably agree with you.”

You stood up and smiled sadly at Luke. There was something about him that relaxed you, that made you feel safe.

“I uh, don’t get many visitors.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I mean, any really. So uh, if you ever wanted to come back to tell me how Spencer is doing or whatever…I wouldn’t hate it.”

“Any friend of Spencer’s is a friend of mine.” Luke smiled at you and held his hand out to shake yours again.

It was hard to say who was more surprised when you bypassed his hand shake and threw yourself into his arms.

Luke hesitated for a moment before cautiously wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzled against his chest. He felt your tears seeping into the fabric of his shirt. You held him so tightly as though you were afraid he might disappear. His heart ached for you, being in here with no kind of support system.

But Luke decided he would take on the responsibility. You clearly meant the world to Spencer and maybe by comforting you it would help ease Spencer’s troubles too.

The hug lasted several minutes and Luke allowed you to cry all your tears against his chest. When you finally pulled back you wiped your eyes on the back of your hand.

“Sorry,” you swallowed. “That was embarrassing.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Luke shot you a smile. “What are friends for?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment as Luke offered you a wave before turning on his heels and heading towards the door. You watched him go, snaking your arms back around your waist. Luke seemed like a good guy, and you so sorely needed people in your corner right now.

And who knows, maybe one day you’d be strong enough to see Spencer again. If he didn’t kill himself by then.

@tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28 @academiareid @andiebeaword @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @thebloomingeagle

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Text

s/o who moved to the neighbourhood after a car crash ; wally

requested by ; anonymous (07/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; wally darling

outline ; “Could I get Wally x reader where reader moves into the neighborhood after a car accident, and the two become very close. One day Wally learns that reader's family is actually pretty rich but reader didn't want anyone treating them different because of it? Also Wally finds out around Christmas time as reader's parents wanna meet Wally for Christmas”

warning(s) ; references to injuries, references to a car crash, references to hospitalisation, but mostly fluff

you moving to the neighbourhood had been less of an active choice and more of a compromise with some of your more fretful family members

you’d wanted to maintain your independence after your car accident whilst you healed

they wanted you out of the busy city where it happened (and where you lived)

so rather than move back home and be pitied 24/7 by family, friends and staff, you just barely managed to convince them to let you move away to a smaller, more rural town

you had your little bungalow that gave you full freedom to move around with your mobility aids

everything and everyone was a stone’s throw away from everything else, so there weren’t any cars (in fact the only vehicle you’d seen was a unicycle in front of one of your neighbours’ houses)

it was completely isolated from everywhere else aside from a small gravel road which, being your typical country road, was very thin, very rarely used and you only really saw deliveries being dropped off to the local grocers and the post office

so maybe one or two cars a week tops and they never came anywhere near your little home

your family were appeased, you got to keep your independence, and as an added bonus you got to move into the quaintest little neighbourhood ever

everyone was so friendly and keen to get to know you that it threw you for a loop — having come from such a large city to somewhere where everybody knows everybody it was bound to happen

but you couldn’t say that you particularly minded

eddie, the postman, was always happy to stop by and chat as he went about his rounds in the morning — he was also happy to offer any assistance if a delivery happened to be a bit too heavy or large for you to carry in on your own

howdy, the grocer, always made sure that he had what you needed in stock — even preemptively ordering things like your medications and other things you needed for the upkeep of your health (e.g. new wrappings for injuries, oil if you’re using a wheelchair with a squeaky wheel, and so on)

julie, a particularly colourful neighbour, was always happy to stop by and make you feel beautiful even when you were too worn down to even really get out of bed — keeping materials and items on her that best suit your hair texture from the moment she starts randomly dropping by

frank, a neighbour who was particularly fond of butterflies, was someone you came to appreciate because he didn’t dance around your injury and accident — he’d ask you how you were feeling or drop off some books that might apply to your situation, but he never imposed himself on you too much

poppy, a bird who lived just down the street, was always happy to come to your aid during your bad days — stopping by without a peep of complaint and cooking and baking some food for you, always making sure that you’re taken care of even when you don’t have the energy

barnaby and sally, two more neighbours that live for performance and laughter, became the highlights of your days as they would always make a point to stop by and entertain you with whatever jokes or plays they thought of — becoming part of your routine by making you smile

and they did it all without you needing to ask because they all cared so deeply for one another and for you that it was never even a question about them taking care of you

of course they weren’t overbearing, but they did make sure that you were in good spirits and good health as you healed — keeping enough of an eye out to be able to step in when you weren’t able to step up for yourself

by carrying your deliveries inside, by keeping what you need in stock, by keeping your self confidence high, by keeping you well fed, by making you smile so wide your cheeks hurt and by making you laugh so hard you’re crying

but out of all of your neighbours, one stood out the most; a blue haired painter called wally darling

though you usually just called him ‘darling’ — because you could easily get away with the pet name and because you always got a curious look from him when you did it

wally was the first one to greet you when you moved in, offering to help you put your house back together and complimenting the art pieces you’d been gifted by friends and family

he’s a painter and can appreciate the fine arts, you see — and you appreciated how friendly and conversational he was because you very quickly started to feel at home

and by the time the rest of the town had stepped in to help you organise your belongings, everyone was smiling and laughing and joking and talking like old friends — you almost forgot that you’d known them for less than a day because of it all

it really was a team effort and you smile whenever you recall the utter chaos that was your first week in the neighbourhood

howdy with his four arms carrying a pile of boxes so high that he had to shuffle through your front door on his knees — peering around the stack to smile sheepishly and ask you where everything needed to go (which took you a few moments as you needed to pick your jaw up off of the floor)

julie guiding everyone around the bungalow with the precision of an air traffic controller, using two rolls of wallpaper to ensure that everyone could see her through the mess that was your home layout

eddie and frank carefully — carefully — carrying in your sofa and your bed and placing them according to your and julie’s instructions (and dropping them on poor frank’s foot… twice)

barnaby making good use of his height and strength to bring in the remainder of your furnishings, cracking plenty of jokes along the way that had you snorting and eddie making a victim of poor frank every time he laughed

poppy making good on her promise to keep things organised and ensuring that all of your utensils and trinkets and small things ended up in the right place — leaving the home more organised than you’d ever had it

sally helping move any left over boxes from the moving van to the house all the while making a performance of it — including an impromptu recital of a shakespearean monologue whilst holding a snow globe that had cracked during shipping

wally painting and glossing your walls and cabinets throughout this whole mess, occasionally popping his head back into the main room to poke fun at everyone or to ask how everything was going

all of you dipping your hands — or paws, or wing — in paint and slapping them against the wall just above your fireplace before writing your names in your best handwriting just beneath them

a permanent reminder of your hard work and the mess you made

a mess that was definitely preferable to the weeks you spent bedbound in the hospital after being injured, feeling so very isolated and bored in the aftermath of everything you’d been through

that week was also the start of your relationship — well, at least it was when the two of you started dancing around your feelings and finding excuses to spend time with each other

wally would frequently pop by your home with a new painting or sketch that he’d made for you — getting to the point where a good portion of your house was covered with his work

you’d spend hours talking on the phone — he’d be the first one you called whenever you felt particularly low

he was the only one you divulged the full details of your accident to — thankful that he didn’t pity you or question it beyond telling you to reach out if you needed anything

you’re the only one he shares his apples with (and who gets to see his abnormal way of eating)

you’ll go out on small picnics into a nearby field and he’ll help you get up and down from the blanket, not once making a fuss or batting an eye, instead focusing on more important things like eating and watching butterflies

butterflies like the ones you felt whenever he looked at you or touched you or smiled or laughed or —

needless to say you were head over heels — and since wally was as well, it took very little time for the two of you to become an item

(with plenty of encouragement from your neighbours who were, by now, more than done with both of you tiptoeing around the obvious)

it’s safe to say that he thinks you’re the absolute most

and when the holidays come around and your family, who you haven’t really thought about beyond the occasional letter or phone call, want to stop by and visit, wally is happy to play host

he insists on going the full nine yards but compromises with you that you’ll host at your home and you’ll share the duties of decorating, cleaning and cooking

which quickly become more playful than dull because it’s you two so of course they do

and come the day of, you’re both completely prepared — even if your poor boyfriend is quietly sweating bullets and a mixture of excitement and anxiety as they pull up

and then you realise that you forgot to warn wally about your family

but it’s far too late for that as they’re already at the door and you’re already greeting them — and oh god there’s that antique necklace and that designer handbag and she’s giving his colourful outfit a strange look and wally’s noticed and he’s looking at you and oh dear…

thankfully he’s able to hide his surprise well (has his expression ever changed from that smile?) and as your folks fawn over you and your home and they bring in all of the gifts you’re only given enough time to shrug and smile apologetically before you’re both whisked away to play host

thankfully your boyfriend is an excellent public speaker and is able to charm your family enough to keep them entertained and cooperative (and stop them from invading your personal space and infantilising you) as he serves everyone the meal you’d prepared

by the time he’s sat down beside you and you’re all digging in to the feast you’d made, you’re able to relax because your relatives all clearly adore him

they ask him about the neighbourhood and his job and your relationship — all of which he answers tactfully and politely before moving on with questions of his own

and when the time comes to open your presents (including some generic gifts they’d bought wally as a measure of politeness), your fear of being perceived differently has practically faded away

you’re sat on the sofa, he’s holding your hand in his own, and your family are bickering amongst themselves amongst an ocean of wrapping paper and presents worth half a mortgage but it feels like home — and whilst he does give you a bit of a funny look, he assures you quietly that he gets it

he just would have appreciated a bit of fair warning about it — which is understandable

and you don’t know why you ever doubted your silly little blue haired boyfriend for a moment

he really is the absolute most

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #fluff hcs #fluff #welcome home fluff

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stardewlegends · 5 months

Text

[Part 2] The Day After The Day Before | Sebastian x Reader, Platonic!Sam x Reader (Angst, mild Fluff)

Category: Angst, Fluff (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Implied non-con, implied sexual assault, physical violence, blood, miscarriage, forced pregnancy, physical violence, verbal abuse, bleeding, head injury, hospitalisation, explicit language Ship: Sebastian x Reader, Platonic!Sam x Reader, implied Sam x Sebastian x Reader Summary: She'd heard so many good things about her best friend, Sam's, father, Kent, and it was true, he was lovely! Right up until he wasn't. How was she meant to tell Sebastian? Sam? The answer is simple: she couldn't. But apparently she couldn't hide it either. Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 6k

---

Almost six months have passed since the day (Y/N) learnt she was pregnant with that monster’s child. She decided to keep the baby. It was a hard decision, unsure whether she’d permanently be traumatised every time she looked at her child but thought about it more prominently as Sam’s brother than Kent’s son or daughter.

Sebastian and Sam, as promised, supported her the whole way. It’s not like she had anyone else. Harvey and Maru were judge-free too and have been helping her throughout the entire process.

Sebastian and Sam moved on to the farm with her, Sam occupying the spare room whilst Sebastian shared hers. It was fun. They helped her grow once again into the bright, chatty woman she once was before he took it all away.

Jodi never welcomed Sam back into their home after that Godforsaken day. She spread rumours about Kent’s beaten up face. Said that Sebastian had gaslighted Sam into abusing the family. Said that Sebastian was the one who raped (Y/N). Oh, yeah, a real likely story. Robin and Demetrius tried to get answers out of Sebastian about what actually happened, but he didn’t give them any information. He simply told his mother that he was moving onto the farm with (Y/N) and Sam to support her as she’s pregnant. Clarified it wasn’t his child. Robin didn’t interfere much more than that, Demetrius making snark comments at the boy which is just ignored.

Abigail regularly came by when she could, but Caroline forbid it. Naturally, Jodi opened her mouth and made the farmer the talk of the town. No one really gossiped about it except Jodi. She would do anything to protect her husband, and if that meant making everyone in Pelican Town hate the little bitch who took over the farm then so be it.

On the farm, Sam absolutely adored her chickens. Who knew the skater boy enjoyed farming so much? Sebastian enjoyed collecting fruit from all the trees, being sad in Winter when that wasn’t something he could do. They always went out foraging for some crystal fruits though. The pair made sure that she didn’t have to lift a finger anymore. Not whilst pregnant.

“I wanna go to the saloon.” (Y/N) admits one Friday night as the trio are watching some grid ball game on the television.

The two men look at her with surprised expressions on their faces.

“You serious?”

She nods but keeps her eyes on the screen across the room.

“I miss playing pool on Friday nights. I miss Gus and Emily listening to my boring farm talk, I miss Clint telling me about what cool shit he managed to forge together out of the leftover ore I had, I miss Willy’s voice shaking the place as he tells Clint all about some huge as Scorpion Carp he found…” The woman trails off. “I miss being normal.” “Then let’s go to the saloon.” Sam states. “People are gonna stare…” The woman trails off. “Let them; you look stunning.” Sebastian tells her, watching her blush and curl into him. “He’s right.” The blond adds, smirking and flashing a wink. “Come on, you’ve got me and Seb by your side - nothing will happen to you. Besides, as much as my mom is capable of opening her huge fucking mouth, the town adores you too much to listen.”

(Y/N) wishes she believed him. She’s trying to.

Sam calls up Abigail, asking her to come down and meet them at the saloon. She’s never been so excited to watch the boys play pool.

They walk down, basking in the late-Spring breeze that surrounds them.

“I’ve missed town.” (Y/N) sighs, smiling at the sight of the buildings around her in the town square. “I dunno why, it’s shite.” Sebastian remarks, the trio chuckling at the sarcasm.

They come to a halt outside of the Stardrop, the two men patiently waiting for the woman to be ready to go inside.

“It’ll be okay. My family don’t even come in here.” Sam reassures.

She nods and they finally enter. Peoples heads turn to acknowledge whoever has just walked in and the chat immediately dies down.

(Y/N) wonders if Sebastian is nervous, knowing the rumours were that he’s the one who knocked her up without consent. He doesn’t seem phased. The truth is he isn’t. The people who matter know the truth, and anyone who believes the lies aren’t worth having around.

The farmer’s convinced everyone heard her gulp.

Sam and Sebastian don’t falter, the latter reaching for the woman’s hiding and offering an encouraging smile. He’ll take anything that is thrown her way. Both of them will. She knows it. She’s grateful.

As Sebastian leads her into the pool room, Elliott’s voice speaks up.

“(Y/N),” He calls, the woman freezing. Sam and Sebastian do too. The trio turn to look at the man sitting at the bar, everyone’s eyes on them. “It’s good to see you back.”

The tears that well up in her eyes are staining her cheeks before she can even attempt to hide them.

Elliott smiles and stands up, Leah admiring his confidence, approaching the farmer, opening his arms for a hug which she graciously accepts.

“Thank you so much.” She whimpers into his burgundy jacket. “No need, little lady. We’ve missed you more than you know.”

The red-head offers a smile at the two men whom the farmer walked in with, them returning it with a nod.

“How many weeks are you now?” He asks, admiring the prominent bump under the woman’s dress. “Twenty-four.” She whispers, naturally resting her hands there. “You know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” “Keeping it a surprise.” “Nice.”

Elliott heads back to the bar, taking a seat by Leah, and (Y/N) continues her path toward the pool table with Sebastian and Sam.

The tension is already gone thanks to Elliott and the night is pretty relaxing. Abigail joins them shortly after they arrive, her constantly talking to the baby bump as if it’s gonna respond.

“I’m gonna go order a drink from the bar - I wanna chat with Gus and Emily.” (Y/N) states, her three friends nodding and smiling in admiration. “Okay, doll; we’ll be right here.”

She nods at Sebastian with a smile before heading over to the bar, standing beside Elliott.

“Hey, Gus,” She greets, the bartender offering her a warm smile. “Evenin’, farmer. Good to see ya face again. What’re ya havin’?”

She giggles at his attempted farmer’s accent.

“Just a blackcurrant and soda water, please?” “Comin’ right up, ma’am.” “It really is good to see your face again, (Y/N).” Elliott comments, turning to face the woman once again. “I appreciate it so much.” She whispers, tearing up again.

He smiles and wraps his arm around her before picking up his drink.

“Ladies and Gents, if I could have your attention, please,” The red-head begins, (Y/N)’s eyes widening. “I’d like to raise a toast to our sweetheart of a farmer who joined our wonderful town and naturally made it a better place. She hasn’t been able to have our support lately but I’d like everyone now to raise a toast to this little lady in congratulations of the wonderful baby they’re carrying.” He announces, eyes locking with everyone in the bar. “To (Y/N)!”

And everyone does toast. Drinks in the air. Everyone cheering. Hell, even Clint does and he’s as quiet as anything.

The woman hides her face in Elliott’s jacket in embarrassment. He chuckles and strokes her back.

There’s some fun chat and banter throughout the bar as (Y/N) catches up with everyone, quickly feeling a lot more welcome in her local despite what her worrying thoughts warned her about.

So much fun going on that she doesn’t acknowledge the saloon doors opening.

“Well, well, well, this all looks awfully friendly.”

(Y/N) freezes up at the voice. She’s stood at the bar talking to Emily, the door directly behind her, along with the wife of that monster.

“Surprised the whore actually decided to show her face again.”

The farmer’s eyes clench shut as she fears everything that’s about to happen. Sam and Sebastian hear the voice and stride over to the archway that connects the pool room to the main bar.

“I presume you’ve also fucked the bitch by now, Samson.” Jodi snarks, turning to look at her son who stares her down.

Sebastian looks ready to kill.

“Jodi, I’m afraid if you’re going to be rude, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Gus states, trying to remain professional.

The woman smirks.

“Why do I have to leave when that little rat has been spreading her legs for everyone in order to ruin my life!?”

(Y/N) is trembling now, hands gripping onto the bar as if it’s keeping her from collapsing.

“Jodi,” Elliott speaks up, giving the woman a glare that tells her not to start. “Gus asked you to leave.” “Are you all stupid!?” “Mom-” “Don’t you dare call me your fucking mother!” Jodi instantly interrupts her son, pointing her finger.

Sam gulps but is prepared to fight this battle.

“And you!” The woman continues, pointing at the dark-haired boy standing beside her son. “You manipulative, gaslighting little shit!”

Sebastian doesn’t falter at her words. She’s delusional.

“What did you think you’d gain out of making my own son hate his father!?” “Kent did that himself.” The boy remarks, Jodi’s eyes flaring up with more anger. “You’re sick. You’re fucked in the head.”

Sebastian’s convinced that if his mother was here, she’d have lost her shit at Jodi by now.

“Perhaps, but my husband didn’t rape someone half his age whilst still married, so I guess I’ve got that going for me.”

The tension in the room is suffocating. People’s eyes widen as they acknowledge the truth in Sebastian’s words. Kent was the one who got her pregnant.

“Let’s just go.” (Y/N) manages, turning to look at her two best friends.

Jodi scoffs.

“Yeah, that’s right, run back to that petty little farm that you can’t even run properly so drag those two down with you. My son had a future before you fucked him up!”

The farmer sighs and turns around to finally meet Jodi’s glare.

The woman’s eyes widen at the sight of her belly and (Y/N) very rapidly realises that Jodi didn’t know.

“You have got to be fucking joking me.”

The woman at the bar freezes, shaking once more.

“I’m just gonna go home.” She manages, taking a step forward and turning toward the archway where her two best friends are standing, but that’s when Sebastian screams.

“NO!”

Everything happens too fast.

(Y/N)’s head whips back around just in time to see Jodi lunging for her, shoving the farmer with enough force to send her stumbling back into the bar, knocking the wind out of her, before falling into the bar stools and to the ground.

Sebastian and Sam dove forward but weren’t as fast as the silent man in the blue Joja jacket who grabs Jodi by her throat and slams her up against the wall of the saloon.

(Y/N)’s breaths are heavy, moaning in pain, hands wrapping around her belly as her two best friends drop down beside her, along with Elliott and Leah.

“I was always taught to never hit a woman but you’re no fucking lady.” Shane all but growls as Jodi gasps for breath, hands clawing at the man’s hand in an attempt to alleviate his grip. “Shane-” She gasps, eyes wide. “I could fucking kill you, you know that?” The man warns, grip not faltering. “You had the audacity to tell everyone in this town that Sebastian touched her without permission when in reality it was your shit-eating husband.” “Shane…” Marnie’s voice manages to reach his ears. He forgot she was here, to be honest. He doesn’t care.

Marnie isn’t telling him to stop, no. Marnie agrees wholeheartedly with his actions. He knows that. She’s warning him to be careful. To not get caught.

With another shove into the wall, Shane drops the woman, Jodi dropping to her knees as she gasps for breath once more. The man spins around and acknowledges Sebastian and Sam helping the pregnant woman stand up.

And that’s when he sees it.

“Get her to Harvey.” He states, eyes wide. “Yeah, no shit.” Sam manages, not intending to come across harshly. “No, seriously,” Shane adds. “Guys…” Elliott speaks up, Sebastian and Sam looking down and seeing the red stains on the floor where (Y/N) was lay.

The same red stains at the bottom of her dress. The same red stains leaking down her legs.

The two boys’ eyes widen and they look at one another before looking at the girl they’re holding who’s eyes are also on the mess.

“No…” She whimpers, legs giving in but Sebastian and Sam catch her. “Come on, baby, we’ve gotta get you to Harvey. The dark-haired boy manages, heading toward the door. “No, no, no, no, no, please!” She’s screaming. Sobbing. Her heart is shattering and everyone can see it.

Shane opens the door for the boys, sprinting ahead and banging on Harvey’s door.

“HARV, OPEN UP! EMERGENCY!” He yells, Sam and Sebastian slowly approaching with the screaming woman in their arms. “FOR FUCKS SAKE, HARVEY, OPEN UP!”

The doctor sprints to the door scared that Shane has relapsed once again, but this is so much worse.

“She’s bleeding.” They’re the only words Sam manages as he meets the scared gaze of Harvey.

He nods and ushers them inside, quickly preparing a bed for the woman where he injects her with some substance or other to knock her out, her screams dying down.

Sam and Sebastian are stood by the bed, bloodstains on their clothes, eyes wide as Harvey begins to work on the woman.

“Guys, come on, you’ve gotta let him work.” Shane attempts, they listen. They stare at the woman with lost eyes but let Shane lead them outside of the room.

They’re lost. Sam and Sebastian. Shane is talking to them both but neither of them can understand any of the words he’s saying. They simply manage to find each others’ gaze and cling onto each other in a bone-shattering hug.

Shane’s breaths are heavy. He isn’t exactly best friends with the farmer but she’s the only one who never judged him. She would always sit with him and have a drink. Buy him a pint or two. Saved his life when he hit an all-time low. He saw her as a friend, and she saw him as an equal. That was more than enough for him.

When he heard the gossip that Kent was attacked by Sebastian because the soldier threatened to expose that the quiet emo both was a rapist, he didn’t believe it. How could he? (Y/N) treated Sebastian with the same amount of care that she treated himself with. Now he knows he was right. Sebastian isn’t a bad guy, but that fucking asshole…

Hours pass. How many? Neither of the men are sure. Sebastian told Shane to go home after he calmed down. Thanked the man for defending (Y/N). Shane could only apologise that he wasn’t quick enough to stop the initial hit - Sam and Sebastian told him it wasn’t his fault. He wishes he believed them.

Harvey’s footsteps echo across the surgery, Sam and Sebastian immediately up on their feet and looking at the man with so much anticipation

“She’s still out but will probably wake in the next hour or so.” The doctor begins, the men somewhat nodding but awaiting the more important information.

Harvey sighs and removes his glasses from his face and ruffling his hair.

“Gents, I’m sorry, but the baby didn’t make it.”

Sebastian’s body starts to shut down. He remains frozen, eyes staring lifelessly at the brunet in front of him.

“Seb,” Sam whispers, noticing the absence of life in his friend.

The blond’s heartbroken. He’s crying. Not only was that his best friend’s kid, it was his half-brother.

Sebastian’s face turns to look at Sam, still remaining stoic.

“Why her?” He whispers, Harvey tearing up at the question. “What did she ever do to deserve this?”

Sam lets out a sob and shakes his head, looking around the room for the answer that doesn’t exist.

“She didn’t deserve this.” Is all he can whisper.

Another two hours pass. The two men are sitting on either side of her bed as she stirs. No words have been said between them.

A groan rumbles in her throat as the blinding light of the hospital room takes over her vision.

Sebastian is holding one hand whilst Sam is holding the other.

“Take it easy.” Sebastian whispers.

When the room finally starts to make more sense, the woman glances over at Sebastian and Sam.

“Hey…” It’s muffled against the oxygen mask covering her face. “Hi, gorgeous.” The dark-haired boy murmurs, forcing a smile despite his painfully obvious tear-stains.

She takes a moment to remember everything that happened but the gasp that escapes her follows a number of beeps from the monitors she’s hooked up to.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey, baby, calm down,” “Woah, (Y/N), it’s okay!”

Sam and Sebastian are both up on their feet trying to calm the now frantic woman down.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” Sebastian attempts, watching her head drop down and hands jump to her, now, flat belly. “No, no, no, NO, NO, NO!” She’s ripping the mask off of her face, tearing at all the wires in her body, throwing the bedsheets off of her as she gets a better look at her stomach.

Sebastian wraps his arms fully around the woman, cocooning her against him, whilst Sam stumbles back and throws his head back against the wall. His fists are clenched as silent tears pour down his face.

It took the woman months to come to terms with her pregnancy and decide she wanted it, picturing the perfect life with Sebastian and Sam by her side, but it's been ripped away from her.

“WHERE’S MY BABY!? WHERE’S MY BABY!?” She’s screaming, Sebastian sobbing and trying to keep her trapped against his body to stop her flailing about. “(Y/N), doll, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe for me.”

Harvey comes sprinting into the room and sees the state of the woman who’s just woken.

“SOMEBODY TELL ME WHERE MY BABY IS-” The woman’s screams fade out as Harvey injects her with some sort of drug to knock her out. “I’m sorry, I was upstairs organising some files.” The doctor utters, Sebastian pulling back from the woman so Harvey can fix up her wires.

The two boys don’t respond.

“What do we do, Harvey?” Sam whispers, still leaning against the wall, staring aimlessly at the unconscious woman. “She’s going to take a while to recover but with the right support around her, I think she’ll be fine.”

More silence.

“Can she ever get pregnant again?” Sebastian manages, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

It’s barely enough to relieve either of the men.

“Can she have sex?” The darker-haired boy continues to ask as many questions as possible, wanting to be ready to answer everything the woman may have when she wakes again. “Yes, but I would recommend waiting a couple of weeks before inserting anything into her vagina. Her cervix is open so she’s prone to infection.” Harvey answers all the questions with explicit professionalism. “Is she gonna be in pain?” Sam manages, his eyes flitting to Harvey for a moment before returning to (Y/N). “Some pain in the lower abdomen, similar to menstrual cramp pain, is quite common after a miscarriage,”

Sebastian’s eyes clench shut at the word itself.

“This should only last a couple of days really; if there’s any noticeably bad pain then you can come back to me and I can offer painkillers, but I won’t let her out of here until she feels up to it anyway.”

They both manage a nod.

“Is there anything we can do for her?” “She needs to continue to eat and drink plenty even though she may not feel up to it. Try and stop her doing physical work on the farm, she needs rest.” The boys continue to nod in understanding as Harvey speaks. “She will probably struggle to sleep for a while honestly.”

There’s silence after that as Harvey switches about the wires and tubes in the woman’s body.

“If she wakes up again, press this button and I’ll be right in.” “Thanks, Harvey.”

It’s an hour later when the doctor returns with a knock at the door.

“Sorry to interrupt, gents, but Robin is here and has asked if she can see you, Sebastian?” Harvey states, Sam looking at his friend, curious for the response. “Is she welcome in here?”

Harvey nods.

“Of course.”

A moment later, another knock followed by Robin’s entry. She looks like she’s going to cry when she looks at (Y/N)’s, practically lifeless, body laying on the medical bed.

“Hi…” She whispers, looking at her son with uncertainty.

Sebastian stands up and hugs his mother in that moment.

“Oh, Sebby…”

A sob escapes the boy’s lips.

“She didn’t deserve any of this, mom.”

Robin remains silent for a moment, glancing over at the blond across the room who’s staring at the floor, crying once again.

“What’s gone on, Sebastian?” She whispers, hands stroking the back of her heartbroken son.

The pair pull back and sit down, Sebastian’s eyes returning to the unconscious woman.

“(Y/N) and I have had a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement for a little while now - discussed dating and stuff but decided we’re not quite ready for it,” The boy begins, Robin holding his hand and stroking it. “I know full well I’ll never love another woman the same way I love her.”

He pauses, trying to find a starting point.

“When you and Demetrius were away on your anniversary trip, I had Abigail, (Y/N) and Sam over to play some video games and shit. Everyone left except (Y/N), but she was packing her stuff as if ready to leave; she normally stays the night. I wrapped my arms around her and asked if she was leaving already but she froze.” He pauses, remembering the exact moment he held the woman he loves in his arms and she froze up like he just made the worst mistake of his life. “Like, really froze. It scared me. I let go. She said she had some farm stuff to take care of and started heading toward the door but I grabbed her wrist - not hard! But she fucking screamed. Stumbled into the wall and stared at me like I just burnt her.”

Robin doesn’t tell the boy off for swearing on this occasion.

“She ran out after that. I was scared shitless. I saw it in her eyes that she was fucking traumatised. She’s never been like that - certainly not with me. She loves physical affection and shit, she would never react like that. Anyway, I sat and thought it over for a while, worried about what the fuck I’d done to make her so fucking scared of me, and realised I hadn’t done anything, and even if I had, she would’ve told me. We’re best friends, she tells me everything…”

Robin is tearing up as she listens to what her son has been through whilst she’s been completely oblivious.

“I decided to deal with it later cause it was late. Next morning I call by Pierre’s to ask Abby for her help, grabbed Sam too, and told them what had happened. Sam immediately suggested that someone’s hurt her, agreeing that it’s not like her to turn down physical affection, especially screaming from a touch. We went to her place - she was still in the same clothes she fell asleep in which worried me too. We asked her if someone had hurt her and she lost it. She broke down in tears as we asked her more and more questions trying to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck had happened.”

Sebastian pauses as he sniffles and wipes the tears from his face.

“She told us she was raped; admitted it was Kent. Said she didn’t wanna tell us because he’s Sam’s dad. She didn’t want Sam to lose the father he’s been waiting years for.”

Robin’s eyes turn to the blond across the room, seeing his eyes clenched shut, fists tight, tears falling.

“Sam didn’t believe her first - I don’t blame him, but I knew (Y/N) would never lie to us, especially about something like this. Sam stormed out and gave Kent a hefty punch or two, I followed - scared Sam might take it too far.”

He fucking deserved it. Those are Sam’s unvoiced thoughts.

“He fucking deserved it though.” Sebastian voices his thoughts anyway. “I went in and Kent was mouthing off some shit about how she was asking for it and shit-talking her, so I lost my fucking cool and gave the guy a good hit.” “Or ten.” Sam quietly remarks, a very brief smirk on his lips. “The asshole deserved it. Anyway, I was stopped because (Y/N) and Abby turned up and I didn’t want her to see that. She passed out after Kent spat out some more utter bullshit. I carried her up to ours since you guys were away - figured she could do with somewhere away from her own house and that fucker’s.”

Robin is crying but lets her son finish.

“I just let her rest for a few days. She didn’t say or do much, we just watched some TV, I read to her, made her food, bla bla, then one day she asked if she could speak to Maru as she realised she could have damage, infections, possible pregnancy, which I hadn’t even fucking thought about.” “You can’t beat yourself up over this, Seb.” Sam manages, sparing a glance at the dark-haired boy.

Sebastian gulps but continues.

“I asked if she was sure and she said yes, so we spoke to Maru who got us in with Harvey that very evening. Found out she was pregnant. We slept on it since she was unsure what she wanted to do. Sam came over the next day to see how (Y/N) was doing - and because Jodi and Kent kicked him out, Jodi losing her shit and saying I was gaslighting them both or some dumb fucking shit,” He takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We eventually agreed to move to the farm, all three of us, and she decided she was going to keep the baby - wanted to try and get something good out of this whole shit show.” “So when did Kent actually…” Robin trails off, not wanting to break her son even more. “End of Spring - like, a fucking week after he came back to Pelican Town.” Her son confirms. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ve heard the drama of what happened in the saloon. (Y/N) decided she missed going out. We were all very aware of Jodi spreading utter bullshit in order to protect to darling husband and whatever, so we’d all been on the down-low for a while. We decided to go to the saloon, Sam and I very ready to protect her from any bullshit thrown her way, but Elliott grabbed our attention as we came in and said she’d been missed. Later in the night, she was chatting to everyone, Elliott raised a toast to congratulate her on her pregnancy, it was really nice to see her smiling again.” “She was glowing.” Sam whispers, Sebastian managing a momentary smile. “Yeah. Anyway, Jodi turns up at like eleven PM, starts shit-talking (Y/N), me, Sam… You probably would’ve smacked her.”

Robin attempts a small chuckle.

“(Y/N) says she’s just gonna leave and doesn’t want to cause any drama, but Jodi obviously wasn’t aware she was pregnant and lost her shit, shoving her back into the bar. She fell down, smacked her body on the stools and her head on the floor. Sam and I were too far away to fucking stop it. Shane stepped in though, pinned the bitch up against the wall and threatened her. (Y/N) was bleeding… a lot. Shane helped Sam and I get her here, but she, uh, the baby didn’t make it.”

Silence.

“And now we’re here.” “What time even is it?” Sam manages. “Just after one PM.” Robin confirms.

The boy nods.

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about all this. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this has been on you. Both of you.”

Sebastian attempts an appreciative smile but it barely lasts a second.

“Come here, Samson.” Robin adds, standing up and opening her arms for the boy. “Robin, thank you, but-” “Come here.” She doesn’t take no for an answer, simply smiling and accepting the embrace. “You’re always welcome into my home.”

He squeezes a little tighter.

“Thank you.” “You and Sebastian have always been like brothers anyway.”

He pulls back and smiles

“He drives me crazy like a brother.”

She manages a chuckle.

“He drives me crazy like a son.” “I’m right here.” It’s a sarcastic remark from the dark-haired boy. “Has she woken up yet?” The carpenter asks, taking a seat back beside her son. “Yeah, but she realised her bump was gone and lost her mind; Harvey had to inject her with some anaesthetic or something to knock her back out.” “Oh, bless her.”

Some time passes and Robin says she’ll head off, not wanting to intrude when the woman wakes up once more. What she doesn’t tell either of the men is that she’s going to add some renovations to the woman’s farm, free of charge, to help accommodate all three of them, and a baby in future if she wishes to try again.

Sam stands up and walks over to sit beside his best friend, taking his hand.

“I’m sorry, Seb.” “Do you think she’ll be okay?” Sebastian whispers, not taking his eyes off of the girl.

The blond pauses, contemplating his answer.

“We’ll make sure she is.”

Another forty-five minutes pass before the woman begins to stir, Sebastian immediately noticing the way her eyelids twitch. He presses the emergency button to contact Harvey straight away, praying that they can keep her calm enough to stay awake this time round.

The running footsteps resound in the small medical room the three of them are occupying, Harvey unlocking the door with worried eyes.

“She’s twitching a little - stirring - I think she’s gonna wake up; I figured I’d get you here first.” Sebastian briefs, the doctor nodding and checking over her machines and stats once again.

The woman groans, feeling exhausted, which is bizarre given that she’s waking up. Her body feels like it’s got the weight of Lewis’ truck resting on it.

What the hell?

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

Is that… Harvey’s voice?

“If you can hear me, love, can you try and give me a sign? Wiggle your fingers or toes?”

Why the hell wouldn’t she be able to hear him? He sounds like he’s right beside her.

Nonetheless, she complies and attempts to move her digits.

“Perfect. Okay, (Y/N), I’m going to tell you a few things but I need you to remain calm, okay? Despite everything I’m reminding you of, you’re one-hundred percent safe right here right now.”

She’s clearly in the hospital.

Another mining accident? She usually can hear Marlon nagging in her ear by now though about how reckless she is.

“You’re in the hospital due to getting hurt when in the saloon. You were pushed and fell to the floor. Do you remember?”

Who in the hell of Stardew Valley would push her?

“(Y/N)...”

Sebastian?

“Can you hear me, doll?”

Attempted finger movements.

She also tries to turn her head toward her best friend’s voice but her eyes aren’t assisting just yet.

“Hey, pretty girl,” She fails to see the soft smile on Sebastian’s face, perfectly paired up with the tears staining his cheeks. “You remember Sam’s family?”

Vincent?

Jodi?

Oh, fuck-

Jodi.

Kent.

Another gasp and she feels multiple hands on her body as if pinning her down.

“Breathe, doll, it’s okay.” “(Y/N), remember that you’re safe.” Harvey inputs. “Don’t panic, you’re okay, I promise.”

The pet name ‘baby’ is on the tip of Sebastian’s tongue, but there’s a time and a place for that…

“Just focus on staying calm, doll, or else we can’t help you.”

She was pregnant.

The saloon.

Elliott.

Jodi was pissed.

Jodi didn’t know she was pregnant - how!?

She was pushed.

The blood.

Bleeding.

Her baby…

“Try and stay calm, (Y/N).” Harvey’s voice interrupts her thoughts once more; it’s then that she realises how obnoxiously loud the beeping of her heart monitor is as it gets faster.

With struggling efforts, the woman manages to move one of her hands across her body to her flat stomach.

She lost the baby.

There’s no way she had the baby - she had two months left.

Is that possible?

Perhaps this was the way it was meant to be.

With strain, she manages to open her eyes, the blinding hospital lights barely hurting in comparison to the loss of her baby.

“Welcome back, (Y/N).” The doctor greets, but she hasn’t even looked at any of the men in the room yet. “Just to make you aware, I’m in the room along with Sebastian and Sam.”

Sam…

“Hey, (Y/N).” The blond comments.

She doesn’t respond.

Eventually, she manages to turn her head and acknowledge the doctor beside her. He offers a reassuring smile and waits patiently for her to feel comfortable.

She then rolls her head around and sees the two boys standing side by side, both crying and looking like they haven’t slept in days. Or showered. Or eaten.

With slow, mechanical movements, the farmer reaches up and slowly slides down the oxygen mask covering her mouth. She licks her lips and moistens her mouth, feeling just how dry her throat is.

“You two look like shit.”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat, mixed with a sob or two. Sebastian simply smiles and shakes his head.

“Missed you too, gorgeous.” The latter mutters. “You’re not lookin’ too hot yourself, farmer.” Sam adds, jokingly.

She attempts a smile before turning to look back at Harvey.

“How long have I been out?” “Eighteen hours-ish.” The doctor confirms. “You woke up about ten hours ago but weren’t doing so good.”

She nods.

“I lost the baby?”

The anguish on Harvey’s face is enough to know.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I tried everything I could.”

She simply smiles and nods before turning to look at the two boys on the other side of her.

“Are you mad?”

The men's faces contort into confusion and shock.

“Mad? Why on Earth would we be mad? Of course we’re not mad, doll, we’re just glad you’re okay.” Sebastian assures the woman, resting a hand on her matted hair. “(Y/N), I’m just glad you’re alive and breathing.” Sam adds.

Harvey answers every question the woman has, brings her some food and drink, and leaves the trio to chat amongst themselves.

“I love you both very much.” “We love you very much, pretty girl.” Sebastian smiles. “My mom came by earlier, by the way - I told her everything.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Does she hate me?” “Of course she doesn’t hate you, (Y/N).”

Silence.

“I want to go home.” “We can go home whenever Harvey says so.” “Will you both stay with me?” “(Y/N),” “Doll,”

Sam and Sebastian begin at the same time, (Y/N) giggling at their synchronisation.

“I think I can speak for Sebastian as well as myself when I say we don’t plan on leaving your side for the rest of our lives.”

It was at that moment that (Y/N) looked at Sam in the same light she looks at Sebastian in.

Love.

Adoration.

Romantic?

But three’s a crowd.

Right?

Sebastian sees the conflict in the woman’s eyes and it makes him grin.

“We’ll figure it out, pretty girl.” The emo boy comments, flashing a wink as she realises he can read her like a picture book. “I love you both.” “We love you too, farmer.”

#harvey stardew valley #sebastian x reader #sam stardew valley #sebastian stardew valley #sam x reader #stardew valley #stardewvalley #non con #stardew valley non con #miscarriage #abigail stardew valley #shane stardew valley #marnie stardew valley #elliott stardew valley #stardrop saloon #gus stardew valley #emily stardew valley #alcohol

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