#Saline Stand

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Desperately trying to be hysterical all night again in advance of my doctor's appt in the morning because honestly I'm barely holding onto sanity as it is lmao

The amount of pre-appt research I do never stops turning up horrifying new pieces of information like this one:

Like my guy I can barely manage to stomach the ½ teaspoon of electrolytes I put in my water every day and you want me to eat SIX GODDAMN TIMES THAT MUCH??????

I would rather fling myself into a dying star I'm so fucking serious

[archivalofsins]

Honestly, another thing that inspired the Yuno post outside of the Mikoto thing was the fact that the image they used for her second trial acrylic stand is all of the Yuno's. While everyone else's has been just them. Like-

The easiest game of one of these things is not like the other ever. Milgram really went, we need an acrylic stand of Yuno for trial two- Okay, make sure to get all of them this time as someone went, wait, what do you mean all of them?!

[peachetteprice]

Jeweller!Price receives your engagement ring in the post, along with a candidly snapped Polaroid of how it used to fit on your finger, hand beside your face as one might show it to a best friend in a dimly lit Wetherspoons, squealing over its opulence and rarity.

Within the package, there's a note, explaining - in short - that after gaining baby weight and birthing your daughter, it no longer fits, and although you vetted it through your husband that you would fit it to a silver chain to wear around your neck, which he initially accepted, he simply won't stand for it any longer, for one poor reason or another.

The letter is sad. Sadder than Price might have imagined, littered with a thousand reasons to leave that limp-cocked (it's there, between the lines) excuse of a betrothed, that he understands you might not have meant to litter, but it exists there on the page regardless, beside the residual saline stains of your tears that you shed as you penned it.

Naturally, Price doesn't re-size the ring.

He leaves it as it is, mostly, though buffs the surface a little to dull the shine and engraves a microscopic, but fairly legible 'J.P' on the inside of the ring, then returns it to sender with a strongly-worded letter of recommendation, alongside a Poloroid of that pretty, wasted ring around the first knuckle of his pinky finger, as the rest of his fingers squeeze his thick cock, veins bulging and pulsing as if the picture were alive, dribbles of cum trickling along his inflamed head.

What a shame that your husband never manages to successfully trace your ring after it got 'lost in the post on its way back from the welder's'.

:(

Pt. 2

| Masterlist |

[luveline]

oh my, oh my. I adored your fics where reader is smitten over reid with his glasses and then where reid is smitten with reader in her glasses! can I request something similar with hotch, where he's the one flustered - or, at least, his reaction lol - by reader wearing her glasses for the first time? <3

thank you for your request <3 fem

“Hotch, can I ask you something?” 

He hadn’t heard you knock, lost in thought behind his desk, and he knows you won’t begrudge him for failing to look up. “Of course,” he says. 

“I went to the eye doctor a few days ago and everything was fine, but she said my contacts are gonna keep degrading my eye health, apparently, if I keep wearing them. Do you think I could wear my glasses in the field?” 

Hotch takes a moment for your asking to catch up with him, desperately printing the last of his thoughts into a consult note. He makes a spelling mistake in his rush. Frowning, he crosses it out and corrects it neatly. “Uh, you want to start wearing glasses in the field?” 

“Yeah. Do you think that would work?” 

“I don’t see why not.” He stops himself firmly, before he can call you honey. Hotch doesn’t want to patronise or condescend you even in his thoughts, but he has to remark to himself that you sound adorably over-concerned. “Reid picks and chooses when he wears his own glasses, and he’s never…” 

He’d finally managed to tear his gaze from his desk and found you standing further away than he’d thought, in a black pencil skirt that flares out gently at the end like a flower bulb, a neat shirt with a triangular collar showcasing just a slip of your chest and the small silver necklace you wear. None of this is unusual, Hotch is used to finding you charming and lovely by now, it’s the glasses that shock him. He hadn’t realised you’d actually be wearing them. 

They’re not thick nor too thin, simple black frames made of a translucent plastic. They’re glasses like any other, and Hotch can’t diagnose his own reaction to it. Perhaps it’s how they sit on your nose, or the cutesying effect they give your expression. They make your eyes look a little darker than usual. They’re everything. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“He’s never had any problems,” Hotch finishes, ever so slightly breathless, his hands falling to his thighs. 

“They look stupid.” 

“What?” 

You raise the back of your hand to your cheek and press it there with fingers curled loosely inward, “I know they look silly, I haven’t worn them in a while, but my eyes hurt everyday with those contacts, no matter how much saline I use–”

“No,” he says. He stands, and he swallows against nothing. It’s embarrassing for his age. “They don’t look silly. You should wear whatever makes you most comfortable.”  

“I knew they looked silly,” you say again, turning toward the door. “Sir, you just stared at me. I never should’ve let Spencer tell me they looked cute.” 

“They do look cute,” Hotch says, rounding his desk. He stands in front of it rather than crowd you at the door. 

He isn’t unaware of his own influence. His moving has stopped you from leaving. His compliment, especially one far from his usual professionalism, sticks you like a flytrap. 

“You look just as nice with them as you do without them,” he furthers. “I’ve never seen you wear them before.”

“Well, I was always underwhelming, growing up. I didn’t think glasses helped.” 

“Underwhelming?” he asks. 

You smile like you’ve caught him. He doesn’t like to be caught, and he turns away to pretend to look for something, but he’s saved by another presence on the landing. 

“Oh my god,” Morgan says, looking you up and down with an affirmative, sweet appreciation. Morgan might make a show of it sometimes, but he’s genuine as he continues, “Sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?” 

“They’re not strange?” you ask.

“Is that what the boss man said?” 

You look back at Hotch bashfully, and that look alone catches him all over again. Morgan watches through the doorway and he knows he’s doomed —Hotch’s feelings are, for that split-second, plain as day. 

“He didn’t say they were strange, no,” you say gently. 

Hotch wonders if he should insist on contacts after all. “They’re suitable for every day.” 

“Suitable,” Morgan says. 

Hotch gives him a you’re-pushing-it squint and everyone decides they have things to be doing, leaving him alone to panic. (He doesn’t panic, he’s not the type, he just remembers your new look and feels his heart give irregular pangs a few times an hour for the rest of the afternoon.) 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Fifteen

Steve’s left bloody smears on the tiles, but the bleeding does seem to have turned a little more sluggish; he’s too frightened now to pull his sock away, he’s pretty sure it’s stuck to the wounds where the blood has started to crust over.

From the floor, Steve manages to reach up for the phone, it rings nearly a dozen times, but Steve persists. He knows Hopper will assume it’s an emergency.

Steve hates doing this, but he definitely can’t drive. Just the thought of making it to the car on his own makes him cringe, and the dull, thudding pain is radiating out to the rest of his foot.

“Hopper.”

“Hop. Sorry. I think I need some help.”

“On my way.”

The doctor frowns at Steve spectacularly, “a raccoon?”

“I know, wild right?”

“So that means he definitely needs a tetanus,” Hopper says unhelpfully from where he’s perched on the other side of the treatment room. He’s got a coffee in a Styrofoam cup and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Steve hisses as the doctor uses some saline to loosen the sock, peeling it away from the wound, “I’ll give you something to numb the area, and then it will need some stitches. An x-ray might-”

“Nah,” Steve interjects, “stitch me up, I need to get home.”

The doctor has that look on her face again. From the other side of the room, Hopper sighs, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve can hear El and Eddie from where he’s standing in the kitchen. El’s been teaching him stuff again; today she’s taught him the ABC song. They rush through when they get to the ‘LMNOP’ part, making Steve smile.

“Okay Steve, we’re ready!” El shouts for him from the next room, and Steve goes in.

The furniture's been moved out of the way, Eddie lying on his back in the middle of the room. He’s laying on a white sheet, the long point of his tale stark black against the material. Next to his hip, there’s a pair of legs. They stand perfectly fine on their own, disembodied, rounds of flat pale skin on top, where they end at the thighs.

Eddie looks over smiling, “oh good, you’ve brought it.”

Steve looks down. In his hand he’s holding a saw.

Steve wakes, flailing. He’s gasping for air, trying to orientate himself. Panicking.

He’s sitting. It takes him a few confused seconds, but it all comes flooding back. Fuck, his neck hurts, and his back.

Just a dream he thinks on repeat to himself. Just a dream just a dream just a dream.

His foot. His foot is still up on the coffee table, “Steve, come on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What,” he manages to croak out.

“Here, drink this,” Robin hands him a half glass of tepid water, Steve downs it, “you had a nightmare.”

There’s a towel and a bag of peas draped over Steve’s ankle; trying to cool the area. Keep the swelling down, or whatever. The peas are melted now, the bag sagging in either direction with the weight of the mush inside.

The sight of it makes a sob catch in Steve’s chest, it comes out in a huge shudder, and Steve’s only vaguely worried he’ll never be able to walk the frozen isle in the store again. That he will cry spontaneously every time someone offers him a pear.

“When did you get here?”

“Mom dropped me off, Hopper wanted someone to watch you. He’s going to go check on El.”

Steve’s head feels muzzy. Too much has happened. They didn’t get home until the early hours, and Steve’s blinking in the full light of day that’s streaming into the lounge. “Where is he now?”

“Back yard.”

That takes a second to process, “no.”

Steve pulls his foot down, wobbling as he stands, leaving the towel and peas abandoned, “Steve, hang on.”

The dressing and stitches feel like they’re pulling as Steve takes a few tentative steps, the whole end of his foot feels like it’s burning, Steve moves until he can see Hopper; he can see him from the back, he’s smoking and looking down into the pool.

“Robs, get him away from there, please. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding her hands out like she’s dealing with a skittish animal, she goes to the door, opening it and calling, “Hopper, he’s up!”

Hopper comes back in, dropping the end of his cigarette and stamping it out with his boot on his way in, “kid, are you sure he went into the pool?”

The implication of Hopper's question has Steve’s moving before he can really think about it, Robin calling after him that he’s got nothing on his feet, that it’s cold out. Steve ignores her. He has to walk funny, keeping all his weight on his heel on the left foot, but he makes it work. He sees why Hoppers asking; the water of the pool is opaque white.

It looks like the whole thing is filled with milk.

Hopper leaves to go and check on El. Steve’s glad, he did cause Hopper to have to leave her in the middle of the night, and that’s not fair on El, she might be worried.

Steve’s had maybe a couple of hours sleep on the couch, passing out when they got back from hospital. “You don’t have to do that,” he tells Robin; she’s scrubbing at the bloody smears Steve’s left on the kitchen tile.

“It’s fine, and it’s not like you’re in any condition to do it. What the fuck Steve, Hopper said he bit off two toes??”

Steve looks down at where the dressing’s covering his foot, “yeah.” Robin sits back on her haunches, bloody rag in hand, glaring. “He said that...if he eats Demogorgon, then that’s what he becomes. And if he eats Demodog, he becomes one of those so…”

“So you let him eat some of you instead? Because that’s the sane response-”

“I love him, Robs.”

She sighs, “I figured.”

Robin spends most of the day. She talks him into eating some toast; he balks at the thought of soup. Steve takes his pain killers and his antibiotics under Robins close supervision. They have the TV on, and Steve sleeps more.

She tells him to come away when he spends too much time staring out of the window.

Robin has to go that evening; she only does because Steve swears on everything she can think of that he will be fine. He will eat some eggs. He will take his pills. He’s not a complete invalid.

Robin leaves him after what is probably a ten minute hug, and a promise that she will sell Keith on Steve’s 'family emergency.'

The eggs are sitting heavy in Steve’s stomach when he hobbles outside. He managed to get a sock on over his dressing, but couldn’t bare the thought of anything else pressing on his wound, so he goes out like that. Just in socks.

He has a coat on at least, and takes the blanket, knocking snow off a pool lounger and moving it to the edge of the pool so he can sit with his feet up, wrapped in the blanket. The water still hasn’t frozen; but it is darker than it was. It’s turned a sort of pale mucky brown, like someone's mixed some dirt in.

Or chocolate milk.

Steve sits, and he waits, and he cries quietly.

Eventually the cold gets too much, and he heads back inside to try and sleep on the couch.

Steve stares blankly at the unlit Christmas tree, and considers dragging the thing outside and setting fucking fire to it.

He hasn’t cried since he woke up, which is a new current record, and he doesn’t understand where the anger has come from...but he thinks he might prefer it. It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair, and it fills Steve with a rage he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before.

Hopper sits opposite Steve, leaning forward, his hands dangling loose between his knees, and Steve knows that this is Hoppers ‘I’m trying to be kind, or sympathetic, or understanding face,’ Steve also knows he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Hopper's mouth and he’s already angry about it.

“Kid, I really think we should drain the pool.”

“No.”

Hopper takes a deep breath, “son,” and that one word fills Steve with a rage so complete he feels utterly still. Utterly calm. He’s completely empty, in that moment, except for the rage, “if we don’t, his body will rot into the water, and if you want to be able to bury him? Then-”

“Out.”

“-what?”

“Out,” Steve stands, and he speaks calmly and levelly, “get out of my house. Right now.”

Hopper doesn’t stand, he spreads his hands in a non threatening gesture, “El says she’s can’t feel him, kid, he’s gone-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Steve screams at him, suddenly full to brimming, his hears his pounding, breaths sharp, “I said get out!”

Hopper sighs. He looks at Steve with...pity on his face, but he gets up, and he leaves.

The water is so dark now it looks nearly black. Murky and shitty. There are black, choking vines growing up the inside of the tiles; clinging to the sides of the pool. Some of them are long enough to creep up over the edge, like The Upside Down is bleeding into Hawkins again. Steve is reminded viscerally of Barb Holland, and he hates it.

The phone is ringing. Steve ignores it until it stops.

It makes him itchy, ignoring the phone. It’s too ingrained in him that something could be wrong. It’s an emergency. The kids might need him.

It starts ringing again; Steve answers it this time, but only as a preventative measure. If he doesn’t answer it, whoever it is might show up, and Steve would really rather not right now.

“Hey, Steve.” Robs is uncharacteristically quiet. Reserved. “So...it’s Christmas tomorrow and, I know you said you didn’t want to come for the day but...what about in the evening? Just for a little bit?” She asks, hopefully. “Mom says we can save you some leftovers, you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s really kind and everything Rob...” Steve trails off scrubbing at his face. He’s got a fair bit of stubble going on, and he only showered this morning because even he could pick up on the fact that he stank.

She sighs quietly, “have you been eating? Taking your meds?”

“I...yeah. Some. And finished the antibiotics.”

“Good. That’s good. You want me to come over then?”

“Uhm. No. No that’s fine you, you should have a nice Christmas with your family, okay? We can talk after.”

“Steve…”

“I know, Robs, I know, but I’ll be fine,” Steve tells her with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Okay, well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, Dingus.”

“Love you too Birdie.”

There are thick black vines growing up the legs of Steve’s pool chair; he ignores them. He climbs into position, wrapping himself in his blanket. He has a beer, his pills are finished now, so he can’t see the harm.

“I had a shower Eds, sure you’re pleased to hear that. Took the dressing off my foot, and it looks fine, you didn’t hurt me, not really.” Steve tacks on, “not ow,” out of habit.

Steve sips his beer, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs, and not thinking about Eddie's tail doing the same, “I’m supposed to have an appointment to get the stitches out, but it’s not until like the twenty seventh, or something, you know, everything being shut for Christmas. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Steve sighs, “anyway, I probably won’t go, it really doesn’t look so bad now, I think I could get them out with nail scissors and some tweezers, so I might just do that.”

Steve sips his beer, watching the laden pale clouds scud along overhead, “I think it might snow again, that’d be nice, right? White Christmas and all that stuff.”

Steve sighs again, and quietly admits, “I think you would have really liked Christmas. You get like, gifts and stuff-”

There’s a frantic splash in the pool, Steve’s up as quick as he can, fighting with his blanket, his beer bottle falling, forgotten, and rolling away on the tiles, getting caught on a vine.

Steve’s flooded with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, he doesn't register the chill as he scrambles up, stepping to the edge of the pool.

Eddie’s on the steps, he’s covered in so much slime and shit from the pool it's hard to see him, but Steve doesn’t care how dirty it is, he’s knee deep and helping to haul Eddie out the rest of the way.

He has no hair; but he does have legs, and he takes a stumbled step with Steve before collapsing to the ground. He can’t breathe, he’s bent over, on his hands and knees, choking. Steve’s lifeguard first aid training kicks in before he can really think about it; fueled by adrenaline, he braces Eddie with an arm about his middle, then using the palm of his hand he delivers one hard upward blow between Eddie’s shoulder blades.

Eddie splutters, but there’s nothing, so Steve does it again. Suddenly, like a seal has been broken, Eddie coughs up what might be nearly a pint of fluid, yellow and green and streaked with pink blood, it splatters loudly on the ground.

Eddie drags in a huge breath; it might be the most beautiful sound Steve’s ever heard.

They collapse down again, Eddie shivering like crazy, his teeth chattering; Steve grabs his blanket, covering Eddie. He’s naked and covered in gross shit, completely hairless, and has long gangly legs. Steve doesn’t pay attention to any of it really. Just Eddie. Eddie’s here.

He smells fucking awful, but Steve doesn’t care, Steve bundles him up and pulls him close, “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes crusted with gack from the pool, pink and puffy and sore looking around the lids, the whites bloodshot to fuck, his voice a raspy mess, the words broken by how violently his teeth are chattering, “Eddidie good bad.”

Steve bursts into tears.

Part Seventeen

[tk-duveraun]

LBH is SO NORMAL About Shen Yuan

Part 1/?

1 (here), 2

Based explicitly on @sunderwight 's idea here

System dialogue modified from the 7seas translation of svsss

-

Everything hurt. Considering the last thing Luo Binghe remembered was metal and glass flying everywhere thanks to a truck t-boning his car, pain everywhere was only to be expected. Less expected was the mobile phone ringing so loud it felt like it was inside his own head. No one should have their mobile in his hospital room. Not since he was taken in by his biological father, who was the very definition of more money than sense.

He opened his eyes a crack to see if he could glare at the phone's owner until they silenced it. The ringing stopped, but his eyes were assaulted by an electric-blue floating window out of some badly CGI-d scifi movie.

He had to blink a few times before his vision was clear enough to read the words.

[Activation Code: "Who wrote this? Knock-off Chat GPT fed only a twelve year old's wet dreams?" System automatically triggered.]

The fu— Luo Binghe's eyes snapped fully open to stare at the screen. Yes, he had been reading the latest update to "Intricate Rituals with my Shixiongdi" while his driver took him to his father's house, but—

[Welcome to the System. This System operates in lie with the design concept "YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB"; we hope to provide you with the best possible experiene. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance with your wish, transform a stupid work into a magnifcent, high-quality, first-rate classic. We hope you enjoy.]

My wish? Luo Binghe went cold, then hot, adrenaline flushing through his body. I can finally wife Shen Yuan? He wanted to cry, to scream, but he was still saddled with enough pain that even the adrenaline didn't give him much energy to get up and run off his excitement.

"Ah, Shixiong is awake. Good," a voice came from his right.

Luo Binghe agonizingly turned his head away from the blue screen and saw an older teenager in neat hanfu and a starched apron standing next to him. The teen had a handbound book folded open and was holding a stick of charcoal.

"How is Shixiong feeling?"

"Hurts." Luo Binghe said. His voice was rough and his throat felt like he'd swallowed every shard of glass from his windshield. He tried wiggling his hands and feet and found the movement easy, if excruitiating.

"Mmm, to be expected given the severity of Shixiong's qi deviation." He reached out and took Luo Binghe's wrist. Having his arm moved hurt as much as moving it himself. It felt like being injected with saline to have his meridians checked or whatever the trainee healer was doing. "But Shixiong's system has stablized nicely. One of this shidi's seniors will be by to release you to Qing Jing Peak with the next…" The teen glanced at something outside of the room and finished, "half shichen."

"Thanking Shidi," Luo Binghe croaked. So it was confirmed: he had transmigrated into IRS. Had transmigrated into Shen Yuan's own peak. And as a disciple, if he was the same generation as this kid. Was he part of Shen Yuan's cohort? His heart thumped at the thought.

IRS was an excrutiating mess of will-they, won't-they between the protagonist, Shen Yuan, and his ever-increasing bevy of admirers. It was a mess with character growth and subplots dropped in favor of introducing another man in love with Shen Yuan's poise and genuine goodness. If Luo Binghe was part of Shen Yuan's cohort of disciples, he could cut through ninety percent of the garbage and save his beloved the indignities of countless 'wardrobe malfunctions' and plants with extremely dubious tentacles.

The teen — a Qian Ciao disciple — nodded politely. "Luo-Shixiong would be wise to consult with Shen-shibo before resuming normal cultivation."

A klaxon went off between Luo Binghe's ears even before the blue screen returned to his sight with a merry jingle.

[This system was sucessfully actuvated! Bound Role: Shen Yuna's demonic student, Luo Baixiao. Weapons: Amature Spiritual Cultivation, Demonic Cultivation (locked), Demonic Abilities (locked). Starting S-points: 100.]

Luo Binghe's mind raced with swear words in a rainbow of languages. He finished with an emphatic kurwa.

[You have triggered the System's execution command and have been bound to the Luo Baixiao account. As the plot progresses, various point types will gradually become available. Please ensure that no score falls below zero, or the System will automatically mete out punishment.]

What kind of shit luck. Luo Baixiao was boogie man of the entire second half of IRS, used as a punching bag by Shen Yuan's various suitors to show off. It was stupid, senseless! How was Luo Baixiao so powerful that he never died, yet so weak he was constantly defeated by the man of the week? Why did he start as Shen Yuan's student only to disappear after a few chapters only to return as a villain?

It made no sense!

Luo Binghe — Baixiao now, he supposed — bared his teeth at the empty room. Actually, that was weird. Who did that? Was that a demonic instinct from his new body? He'd have to do some intense examination and introspection when he could move his limbs without wanting to curl on the floor and whimper.

He was supposed to be Shen Yuan's worst nightmare? Well that whole plot could kindly fuck itself. Luo Binghe knew exactly how Shen Yuan's squirrely mind worked and he was going to slot himself irremovably from his shizun's life while the suitors of the week failed in attempt after courting attempt.

[Warning,] the System warned, flashing again before his eyes. [This proposed plan is incredibly dangerous and qualifies as a violation. Please do not attempt or the system will automatically mete out punishment.]

"What do you mean dangerous? Shen Yuan would never hurt one of his disciples, let alone one that made his life easier," Luo Binghe asked inside his mind.

[Currently, you are at the beginner level, and the OOC feature is frozen. You must complete a beginner-level quest to unfreeze it. Before unfreezing, any act in violation of the original Luo Baixiao character settings will result in a deduction of a fixed number of S-Points.]

"You must be joking," Luo Binghe deadpanned. "Disciple Luo appeared in three chapters. I managed the wiki. He didn't have a characterization at this point."

[This System utilizes all resources in defining characters.] Okay, that meant nothing. So it was going to pull characterization out of its ass and hold him to it? [To aid user, multiple reply options will be given during critical dialogue. User may complete side-quests to unlock Luo Baixiao character motivations. For now, review the complementary character sheet.]

Luo Binghe wasn't really much of a gamer, but the character sheet displayed by the System was pretty basic. Strength, endurance, charisma… It also listed the same 'weapons' the System initially told him about. Near the bottom right it said simply: Internally cold and resentful, externally polite and aloof. Thanks, System.

[User is welcome (✿◡‿◡)]

He was going to have another qi deviation.

[thoughtssvt]

you know what's actually unmatched?

aizawa shouta chronic-dry-eye-by-quirk x reader chronic-dry-eye-worsened-by-chronic-crying

costco trips are only to buy packs and packs of multipack eye drops, a comfortable quiet silence draping over the two of you when you get home. the two of you meticulously wrapping stickers around the bottles to easily differentiate between yours and his. every nook and cranny of your house hides two bottles of eyedrops. both your night stand, a cabinet in your kitchen- and just to be sure, a few bottles in your junk drawer-- under a specific corner of the couch cushions. you find them anywhere and everywhere, always having to double check if there aren't any strays in your pockets before doing laundry. there are countless bottles in your personal bags, a pocket sewn into his sleeping bag just for his eyedrops, they fill his desk at work. you'd think it was a bit overkill but those bottles run empty in two months at the latest.

even though he hates seeing you in tears for whatever small reason like a coming-home-reunion video, what makes it better is the way you let him hook a finger under your chin, tilting your face to the ceiling as he gently drops artificial tears into your water line. the gasp of relief slipping through your lips as the cool water cascades over your eyes, flushing your salty tears away.

"better?" he hums, voice rumbling in his chest, slyly slipping your phone out of your fingers because that's enough social media for the day.

he loves finding you sitting at his desk in UA's teachers' shared office at the end of the school day. the way you cup his cheek, fingers running over the scruff as you notice the way his blinks seem forced. his hands lovingly running up and down your sides as you bring life back to his eyes.

it's gotten to the point that no matter the situation taking a moment to drip saline was as natural as breathing. it didn't disturb the momentum, there was never any pause. just you and him, love and dry eyes.

-

A/N : this was lowkey stupid but this is what came to mind because guys the eyedrops felt so good today. i was like "damn this is how aizawa must feel" probably first and last aizawa x reader thing though

[astraystayyh]

you're in the wind, i'm in the water

hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers with a pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw). this is pure brainrot so suggestive at the end. but also fluffy and soft. also reader wears a two piece swimsuit.

a.n: again, sanest response i could have to this hyune. please enjoy my descent to madness :) also the last scene is heavily inspired by my favorite dialogue in the song of achilles!!

pt. 2- orange

The first time you went on a vacation with Hyunjin’s family, you were only seven years old.

You don't clearly remember the island his parents took you to, the details of the travel elusive to your memory's grasp. But you remember Hyunjin- his hair darkening under the touch of the saline sea, akin to a night sky devoid of its stars. You remember the dimple on his left cheek- the sheer pride in you each time you managed to bring it to light. And you remember thinking that Hyunjin was pretty, for the first time in your small existence.

It's a thought that scorched itself indelibly into your brain, and as the years cascaded by, the branches of your love grew, each leave bearing new adjectives to describe Hyunjin- caring, emotional, talented.

But never yours.

You're both older now, and you see him less since his house is no longer right next to yours, the rhythm of life distancing you both. Hyunjin comes in and out of your life as an ephemeral tide, gently brushing your shores. You cling to the sea shells his oceans sometimes throw at your feet- the rare times when your schedules align, when you can see him beyond the confines of your phone, in pixelated video calls late into the night.

And it seems as if you've caught a rare shell this time- one with an ivory pearl hidden within it. Because you're traveling once again with him.

You're all much different, the passage of time marked you in different, but palpable ways. But your presence with Hyunjin's family still felt just as effortless as it did when you were seven. You never had to second guess what you said or how you acted with them. You were just like running water, flowing naturally within the nooks and crannies of his family.

And at night, under the moon's watchful gaze, your hushed conversations with Hyunjin remained. Beneath a shared blanket knitted by his mom, the warm sand melded with your feet, his dimple appearing once again at every word you uttered. He was still as pretty, perhaps even more so with time's gentle sculpting, molding his features into much sharper ones. It seemed only fitting for a soul as beautiful as his.

"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he had whispered excitedly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, momentarily leaving you breathless- tongue dissolving in your mouth like ivory seafoam.

"You want to kidnap me?" you playfully asked, nudging him.

"You don't want to come with me?" he pouted, his gaze locked into yours, pupils appearing much darker with the absence of the sun, like a boundless ocean. The water was right beside you and yet your only wish was to swim in his eyes.

"I want to," you admitted.

"Anywhere?" he asked, irises trembling slightly as he sought your response. You were both very different, chemicals binding his molecules, and your love for him binding yours. You stood faraway from one another- you in the water and he in the wind, stirring your waves, submerging you in the seas of your longing.

"Anywhere."

...

Faraway land punctures the ocean you're gazing at, crystal blue water filling the small pool Hyunjin took you to. You admit it's a breathtaking view, only your eyes can't depart from Hyunjin's figure.

He jumped into the pool first, while you went to retrieve your camera from your bag. And now you stand by the door, heart caught in your throat, as you watch him swim around. Hyunjin is graceful, in the way he moves his limbs, bending the water to his will. It doesn't look like he's swimming, rather dancing on liquid ground.

Kkami joyfully barks once he sees you, and Hyunjin finally lifts his eyes, locking them with yours. He is pretty, unattainable, a singular star outshining all the celestial light. Foolish of them to even think they could compare.

And he's still not yours.

"I’ll take a picture of you both," you smile softly, willing yourself to conceal the lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin nods, draping his hand over Kkami's body, softly scratching the spot behind his ear. You take the first pic, capturing the tenderness in Hyunjin’s eyes. This one's for you alone.

"Okay, look at the camera," you call out cheerfully, and they both turn to look at you in unison. Though your bodies did not touch, the intensity of Hyunjin's gaze seemed to sear into your skin, igniting a fire within you. Foolish of you to dream of more.

You set the camera aside, before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the cool water. Hyunjin swims towards you, positioning himself between your legs, his warm hand wrapping around your ankle. You want to flee, to go back to to the innocence of seven, to never recognize how pretty Hyunjin is, to avoid the heartbreak of dreaming of someone you'll never have.

"Come swim with me," he pouts, palm pressing against your damp skin. You shake your head, a teasing smile on your face, and he pulls you to him, hands holding your waist promptly to prevent you from sinking under.

You free yourself from his intoxicating hold, before diving into the water, a desperate attempt to get away from him. Because when Hyunjin held your waist, a tenderness so earnest in his eyes it made your heart skip a beat, you dared to imagine a future together. For a fleeting moment you became the ocean and he the sky, merging at the faraway horizon.

Hyunjin dives right after you, and then you both swim around one another, giddy smiles on your faces, your laughter echoing around the room. He tries to drown you, hands gliding across the surface of your skin, making goosebumps ripple in you. You attempt to do the same, but you soon regret it. His skin was smooth, taut muscles flexing under your touch; broad shoulders you wrapped your arms around, trying to push him down. Your hand accidentally brushed against his pulse, and you removed it as if it had burned you. There is life beating within him, wildly. But not for you. Never for you.

"Wait, hold on. Your straps are loosening," he notices, reaching for your arm and spinning you around, your back now facing him. "Can I?" he asks, voice dipping to a lower timber. You feel it in the depths of your stomach, depths only he can unravel.

"Yes," you whisper, as he undoes the loose knot of your swimsuit, the one behind your neck still holding up the fabric against your skin. You can feel his cold breath traveling across your bare back, crystalizing the droplets of water trailing on it. His fingers are a stark warmth as they brush against your spine, fingertips gently grazing your skin, like a delicate feather. You imagine your body is molten wax, and he's the seal stamp pressing onto you, molding you whichever way he'd like.

He's tentative as he grabs the undone straps, wrapping them in a knot. Or at least attempting to. You can tell that he's shaking, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. "Im sorry, I didn't tie it well," he giggles sheepishly, undoing the knot once again. You don't reply, unsure of what words will stumble out of your mouth. 'I don't mind you touching me' instead of 'it's okay'.

You turn around once he's done, but he doesn't move back, his body mere centimeters away from yours. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight blush creeping up his neck, coloring him in the prettiest shade of crimson. The droplets cascading down his body, forging a tantalizing path you wish you could undergo. His dampened hair, a shade darker than his usual color. His lips slightly parted, rosy as they've always been. His adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously.

And you suddenly can no longer breathe.

Beneath the water, his hand encircles your wrist, a touch so faint you almost believe that you've imagined it. His fingers trail down, holding your palm and bringing it to his face. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale, one you inhale right back in. You're cradling his cheek, his hand right on top of yours, holding it in place.

"Hyunjin..." you start, but he shakes his head, eyes still shut.

"Please," he whispers, "just for a little." and the clouds slightly uncover, a singular sun ray piercing through them- one petal of hope unfurling at his words.

"Don't- don't do this," you plead back, tone tinged with panic. You couldn't have him, not even for a second, not even in a dream. That's the way things are. Two parallel lines, traveling down the same path, forever adjacent, but never merging as one.

Hyunjin plants a soft kiss on your wrist, lips barely brushing against your pulse. You've never truly known gentleness until this moment.

"If I told you that this trip with you is the happiest I’ve been in a while, would you believe me?" he whispers against your skin, head slightly tilted.

You shake your head no.

"If I ask you something would you be honest with me? I'm tired, yn," he says, his voice softening as it always did when he uttered your name. As if the syllables were always coated in honey, even in his sadness, in his anger, and now, in his pleading for you.

"I will," you respond with an equally quiet voice, and yet it resounds loudly around the room, amplified by the consequences looming around the corner.

"Do you want me?" he asks simply, expecting you to easily uncover a secret you've buried for years, to dust the weight of your fear in mere seconds.

You remain silent and Hyunjin deflates a bit, shoulders slumping forward, the dimple in his face vanishing completely.

"Because I'm drowning in my want for you."

A water droplet falls from the strands of his hair, landing softly on his mouth. You follow its descent, as he licks his lips nervously, his hold on your wrist faltering. The wind is gliding across the water- he's offering himself to you. Who are you to ever refuse?

Your lips crash on his before you even realize it, years of longing exploding before your eyes, spilling from your mouth to his in the most vibrant colors. His lips are soft as you've always imagined them, and they move against yours perfectly, as if molded from the same dough, created to meet again and again, in a fervor, and then in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You're kissing Hyunjin, and you aren't burning, disintegrating under the weight of longing for someone so unattainable. You aren't Icarus- you flew too close to the sun but it hadn't burned you, instead it embraced you, it's now wrapping its hands around your waist, pressing your chest to its warm one. It's a touch you welcome, one that liquefies in your veins like molten amber.

You wrap your legs around Hyunjin’s waist, as he walks backward until your back is against the pool railing. Your hands are tugging his damp strands, fingers threading through his locks the way sunshine weaves between the leaves. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever had in your life. And you're greedy, you can't get enough of him, so you part for a second only to meet again, his hands digging into your sides. Chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.

"Say it," Hyunjin whispers against your lips, "say that you want me back."

"I want you. So much, Hyune. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted," your words wash over him, erasing every doubt that was anchored in his heart. How could you not have seen it, all this time? In each photograph you took, his gaze, always on you. The fondness in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, only ever coming forth for you.

You lean away, head dipped down to kiss his shoulders. Your lips trail down his collarbones, moving to the mole on his arm. He smells like chlorine, and the sweet scent of your monoi oil. Hyunjin is pretty, Hyunjin is warm, Hyunjin is yours.

Your eyes meet his and you both let out giddy giggles, the flush of your cheeks matching his. His lips are slightly swollen, and he bites the lower one as he glances at Kkami, who was idly watching you both.

"Do you think we traumatized him?" you ask in a hushed whisper.

"I think he's glad this happened and he no longer has to hear my rants about you," Hyunjin smiles sheepishly and you laugh, the sound reverberating through Hyunjin’s heart.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?" he asks, thumb swiping across your cheek with a tenderness that leaves you dizzy in its trail.

"You have," you whisper, the sound of it getting caught in your throat.

"And this?" he gently grazes your cupid bow. "Have I told you how much I love your lips?"

"You haven't," you say, mouth parting slightly at his words.

"This then," he trails across your neck, skimming your pulse. "Did I tell you how I feel about your blush? How it always always starts up your neck? Always so pretty?"

"No," you are breathless now, shuddering under his touch.

"What about this?" his hands hold your waist, kneading the tender flesh. "Did I ever tell you? About this?" They go over your hips, gliding across the bare skin. "Surely I did."

You shake your head. Skin burning up where he had touched it. He smiles, tongue poking against his cheek, hands going to your back, tracing over your spine, undoing the knots of your swimsuit. "And this? Did I tell you how much I want you?"

You close your eyes, wind meeting water. "Tell me again."

[curated-tiktok]

OP: wizard_bisan1 posted: March 23 2024. link

visual description: Bisan, an arab girl with black curly hair, standing in the street wearing a hoodie. In the background there are four story tall buildings that are white. A couple people are walking in the background and some cars and horses are moving past. One of the cars is an ambulance with the flag of Palestine and the flag of Kuwait. Two red signs with white writing can be seen but the text is blurry.

During the video 3 different pictures are put up on screen. First a photograph of Muhammad al-Nunu. Later two from a news article about the israeli soldiers attacking, one showing the soldiers and one showing a brown tanks, there is text in Arabic. Another of three boys carrying a dead person.

transcript:

Hey everyone, this is Bisan from Gaza. It's the day 69 after hundred of the genocide and the day 13 of the holy month of Ramadan.

And it's the day six of the besieging and invading of Al Shifa hospital, attacking the hospital, the displaced people inside, the doctors and the injuries by the israeli army and the israeli soldiers, the israeli tanks and bulldozers.

So for those who don't know, people are either inside one building of Shifa complex buildings, without water, without food, without the ability to move anywhere or to get outside that building and to be executed.

And talking about execution today, Muhammad al-Nunu, he is a doctor. The israeli army executed Muhammad al-Nunu because he refused to leave the unit that he is working in and refused to leave his patients and preferred to stay to complete their treatment because a lot of the ICU, of the intensive care unit patients died, passed away because there is no electricity, there is no food, there is no staff, there is bombing and burning for the hospital utilities.

So he refused to leave them and he was executed. He was killed in front of the people, in front of the patients. This is what is happening now in Al Shifa hospital.

It is a hospital and this is happening to them.

Thousands of people, women, children and innocent men and civilians are stuck in a building, in Al Shifa hospital without food, without water.

They started to drink the hospital storage saline solutions. It's the only liquids that they have.

And no one is talking about that. No one, no media, not enough media, no government, no one is talking about this.

And this is not the only horrific thing that happened today in the north of Gaza Strip, by the way, today between ten to 20 people were killed by the israeli shooting on the liquid roundabout while they were waiting for their humanitarian aid.

They were waiting for food because they're starving to death. In the north of Gaza Strip, in Ramadan months, they were waiting for food and they were killed by the israeli army.

How many times we need to scream more about that?

The north of Gaza Strip is under attack like it was the first days of this genocide. Exactly.

They are brutally killed and bombed. It is a hospital with thousands of innocent people, medical staff, injuries, civilians, and they are starved - to death. They are without water, without treatment

They are bleeding in front of each other until the death. And everyone is out of the building executed by snipers or inside starving to death.

This is what is happening now inside Al Shifa Hospital now, at this moment, for six days.

transcript end

caption:

North updates, very important.. watch to the end.

[ozzgin]

Hi, first i wanted to thank you for doing my first request, it's amazing 😍. Since you did it so fast i wanted to ask for something else.

Could you do something with a Prehistoric reader. She's from the Jurassic like Pickle, she was frozen and brought back to life like him. However she's less agressive and a bit smarter than him. I kinda saw her like a big ( dangerous ) mama Bear, who likes those tiny humans.

I trust you for the rest, you can choose if you want to write about first meeting with fighters (which i find funny in the anime by the way ), how she was during Pickle's fight or what's her interactions with the fighters ...

Thank you for reading this , bye.

I’m so glad you enjoyed it! The speed may vary depending on how easily I can visualize the prompt, since I need a solid movie in my head before putting it into words. Not very efficient but so far it’s been working haha. :’)

Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Fem Reader

Featuring Pickle’s challengers: Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Jack Hanma and Baki Hanma.

Backstory

A million thoughts raced the scientists’ minds upon discovering not just one, but two subjects perfectly maintained within the saline block. Were you partners? Would it be possible or expected that you continue your ancient lineage? While the idea was incredibly tempting from a researcher’s perspective, it was equally dangerous. They considered separating the two of you in order to avoid the risk, but they soon discovered that your help was needed to protect everyone else from the enraged prehistoric man.

The female specimen seemed to have a much more docile and cooperative temperament, with strong maternal instincts. Could it be that she viewed the much smaller modern humans as children? (Y/N) wasn’t that dumb. She could very well tell that these new forms of her own image are matured, but she could also easily asses how fragile they are based on their extreme fear and helplessness against Pickle. They haven’t showed any intent to attack her or Pickle, so she had no reason to be hostile. Pickle was rather frustrated by her frequent scolding, but his expressions seemed to indicate that (Y/N) always had a kind heart towards weaker creatures and it wasn’t his first time having to satisfy her pity. He begrudgingly accepted it.

The Meeting

Truth be told, most of the men had gathered in order to measure up Pickle’s strength. And he was eager to prove it after his quick encounter with Yuujirou’s mysterious techniques. It was only when you stood up and let out a warning growl that they realized the faint beads of sweat forming on their foreheads. Pickle had immediately cleared the way and even the Ogre himself grounded his stance, ready for anything. What a majestic creature, they all thought. Feminine beauty carefully chiseled into a powerful physique, adorned with muscles that would put any bodybuilder today to shame. The same arms that lovingly cradle infants with motherly devotion could easily crush bones and twist frail bodies.

The smell of fear lingered for aggravatingly long moments. You gently placed your large hand on Yuujirou’s shoulder and used the other one to point behind him. Only then did they notice the bright helicopter lights and pleading voices asking them to evacuate. You were looking out for them.

Kaiou Retsu

He’d love to challenge you. Truly. But not only are you a woman, you’ve also never shown Pickle’s excitement for battle. He respects your decision and would never impose his wishes on you.

After his fight with Pickle, he wakes up intact and notices you standing over his wounded body. A miserable smile spreads over his face as the realization hits him: you just don’t want to harm them. That’s why you never fight.

He’s not sure what hurts most. The damage Pickle has done, or his ego after realizing that all you have for them is pity. He’s going to need to find other ways to impress you.

Retsu later catches you trying to reproduce some of his moves and wonders if he’d be allowed to teach you martial arts. Or would that make you too dangerous?

Katsumi Orochi

Unlike Retsu, the damage he’s done to his arm couldn’t be prevented. You allow Pickle to remove the limb given the extensive injury.

Like a father that just played too hard with his children, Pickle follows you around apologetically, as if explaining he had no fault in this.

Katsumi is a little shocked to find you in his hospital room. Embarrassed to be seen in such a vulnerable state by someone like you, he waves his arm frantically and rattles the sheets, mumbling explanations and reassurances. You just stare in confusion. He forgot you can’t understand language.

You wonder if he can survive with one missing limb, as back in your day this handicap could’ve proven fatal in the long run. Should you provide the food for him? The hospital staff entrusts you to deliver Katsumi his meals after they noticed you hunting in the guest garden.

You insist on helping with grooming duties like hair brushing, though Katsumi had to thoroughly gesticulate he’s not as open to being naked in front of you. Please don’t assist him when he’s changing his clothes. Let him have the last remaining bit of manliness.

Jack Hanma

How stubborn! Jack is the first one to feel your mama bear anger. After the fight with Pickle he kept coming back for more, despite being barely conscious. Pickle was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting you and would throw you worried looks, unsure how to proceed. Eventually you put Jack in a headlock and dragged him back to the hospital yourself.

The next time Jack wakes up, he notices you standing in the door frame, arms folded and flexed in a threatening manner. He can’t help but chuckle at the view. To think that a woman would have such an iron grip on him. Well, you’re no ordinary woman.

As before, you’re unsure of his recovering abilities. You attempt to feed him yourself several times and Jack has to politely suggest that he’s not as frail as you might think. Though somewhere deep down he might secretly enjoy being spoiled like this. He’d never, ever admit it.

Baki Hanma

Baki took you through a rollercoaster of emotions; from being worried that such a tiny, young boy insists on challenging the prehistoric man to squealing in shock at his unexpected strength. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to defeat him if you were standing there instead of Pickle.

Unlike the others, Baki has no issue relying on you. In fact, he’s almost shameless about it. Absolutely he is too injured to walk! You can go ahead and carry him. He’ll quickly wrap his arms around your neck and cling to you, grinning.

I think he’d really love the idea that someone as strong as you is also kind and likable. He doesn’t have to worry about proving himself or that you’d look down on him. He’s really craving this newly fond protectiveness of a mother.

He likes teasing Pickle by holding onto you whenever he sees you. The Jurassic man has been on the edge ever since you’ve started becoming attached to these tiny humans. He almost can’t get a moment alone with you. Which makes him extra irritable. You sigh at the two menaces that find new ways to mess with you.

[lostinlovingrevery]

He's Definitely Obsessed With You (Series)

Origins! Logan X Fem!Reader

Plot: You're an army nurse, deep in the trenches of the Vietnam jungles, doing everything you can to keep yourself together, and the infantry that come into your tent. One day a soldier you aren't familiar with is brought in, and you find out something about him that leads to the start of an important relationship between you both that changes the course of your lives together...

A/N: This is basically the plot of Origins, but with my own spin on it with a Fem!Reader! This is my first time EVER writing an X reader, so comments appreciate! I plan to make this a series, but I wanted to put out a prologue first. Okay, it's not really a prologue and more like a chapter, and ended up being super long because I started writing and then didn't stop, and prologues are short- but IT'S MY STORY AND I'LL CREATE MY OWN RULES. The prologue is just how reader and Logan meet! (PS, there's eventual smut...Soon as I figure out how write it without getting embarrassed) Also, I'm still figuring out how to format on Tumblr, so please don't mind any funky design choices. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes somewhere in there

Warnings: Reader POV only (for now) Reader is female, also an army nurse, also a mutant- but powers aren't specified, blood mention, medical stuff talked about (like amputations), injury descriptions, Vietnam war and slight politics mention, probably a lot of historical inaccuracies i just googled things but I tried! implied reader could be religious but honestly there's nothing concrete to that. The only description of reader is her clothes and that she has hair, and wears makeup (lipstick). Reader has a hard on over Logan (she has a cruuuush), let me know if there's anything I missed!

Word Count: 4753

Series Masterlist

Prev<- ->Next

Prologue:

Rain rapped lightly along the top of the large tent, creating a soothing sound throughout. A radio, playing an american music station, played a rock song, of some new band slowly making a name for itself, sat nearby on a metal cabinet. Stacks of manila folders and papers were disorganized and spread, almost completely covering a desk. A clock ticks rhythmically. The tent was lined with cots, tables, ratty mattresses, IV stands, and small tables covered with empty food trays, water canisters, and paper cups filled pills. Some of the beds were taken up by injured men, snoring and groaning as they attempted to sleep, only slightly more comfortable here in the medical tent than out in the muddy, rainy trenches. It was monsoon season in Vietnam, and you were at your wits end with paperwork in the middle of a small but-not-that-small camp, set up not far from an American fire support base.

You were sitting at the desk, half asleep as you attempted to fill out another request form for medical supplies. Halothane, Methoxyflurane, Morphine, Penicillin - are common medicines that you find yourself constantly having to restock. Of course bandages, gloves, needles, saline, tubing, multiple surgical supplies, other things you find yourself low on often too, considering the amount of amputations, large and minor, that happen around here. The medical tent that you currently reside in was a revolving door of soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, as well as nearby villagers who come for aid after the American presence near their homes led to viruses they can’t combat on their own, or other unfortunate injuries if war breaks out in their village. 

You were simply an army nurse, this was not your usual duty to perform, it was normally left to the assigned doctor of the camp. Your job was to assist the doctor, take care of the patients, administer medicine, IVs, change bandages, wet baths, feed them, and hold their hands as they cry for their momma and to God. You were busy enough, and the doctor, Doctor Frank Jones, who you were assisting had got shot by a stray bullet when out in the jungle, and had to be taken back to the main base, and back to the States. Due to a communication failure, his replacement ended up somewhere else, and transportation wasn’t an option due to the fighting happening.

 Fortunately, Doctor Jones had seen potential in you and believed you would be an excellent doctor one day - something you wanted to pursue after your service was fulfilled. He became a mentor, helping you study and learn medicine, and giving you skills that an average nurse- even an army nurse- wouldn’t usually have. Now, it was just up to you, and a few young army medics - teenage boys who were given no choice in going to war, and their skills were found best in assisting injuries on the battlefield, but they were eager to help, and their light-hearted jokes and company helped relieve some stress for you, especially with the pain you watch day in and out. You didn’t always have the luxury of their help though, as when patrols went out, they required at least one of them to join. It leads you to have to order around other grunts who have no idea how to even measure the proper dosage of cough syrup for themselves whenever a serious injury comes in, having to give detailed orders on what to do- usually just getting you the supplies and medicine you need, as the grunts are typically too distracted and upset over their fallen brother to assist you in anything medical and complicated. 

With being the only medical authority in the camp- as well as the only woman- you were well respected and popular. Your compassionate personality, and comforting presence, as well as your “Take-no-shit” attitude, led to soldiers of this camp visiting you all the time, usually making up excuses like having a cough, or a splinter in their finger, just so they could have the pleasure of your smile and encouraging words. The CO here made sure that they all treated you with respect, as a woman- and a nurse, so you never once felt unsafe- or unappreciated. Besides, a good section of this camp is young boys, too nervous about their situation to worry about trying to flirt with a woman like you. You're more of a comfort figure in these parts than anything else. Despite the stress and worry you face in day to day life, in the middle of the war, you were just happy to be doing something. You weren’t exactly a supporter of this war, but the moment you saw young boys lining up to go to war, something in you made you fiercely determined to follow, and do whatever you can to make sure those boys can go back home to their mothers and fathers.

The Rolling Stones was now playing on the radio, this was a band you were more familiar with - one of your favorites. Your foot tapped to the beat of the song, as you checked off another item you needed to be stocked up on- and hoped the supply chain doesn’t hold out on you again. For some reason, they seemed convinced that you must surely be lying about the supplies and will not send you the full amount of what you requested, leading you to storm into the CO’s tent on more than one occasion and rant to him with a few unsavory words about the supply lines commander.  He always listens though, and does his best to get you what you can- which you can appreciate. 

“Hey turn that up-” You heard one of the patients call out, and she smiles, reaching to the radio and turning the volume higher. She looked up from the desk to see one patient in bed moving his foot with the beat of the song, and the other, who asked her to turn it up, raised his arm in the air, hand in a fist as he rocked with the song. “This is a good one, hadn’t heard this one yet.”

“It came out in 65’ dumbass.” the other called out. “How’d you not know it?”

“I’ve been here since 64’ asshole! Think we always had access to a radio?”

They all chided each other, making you laugh as you shake your head, turning back towards your paperwork, determined to finish it today so you can send it out. It was rare you get these moments of quiet, so you appreciated it when you could. Things could turn on a dime in a second, especially since the fighting was getting closer to where this camp was set, and you’re hoping that you would get some help before anything serious came. You were just starting to get absorbed in the letter you were writing to the CO of the supply line, something slightly passive aggressive, when one of the soldiers yelled to you from outside. 

“Hey! Nurse! There’s some guys coming this way! They got someone injured-” 

You looked up, dropping your pencil, and turning the radio down as you readied yourself, brushing the pants of your army fatigues to straighten it out, and rolling your sleeves farther up your arms. You watched as the flaps of the tent get pulled open, as two men carry someone resting on a cot. You didn’t like how quiet the man was being.

“In here-” You lead them to another section of the medical tent, ment solely for treating wounded, in an attempt to keep something sterile and clean- well, as clean as you can get it. The soldiers set the man onto the table that sat in the center of the room, small trays and medical supplies, as well as a large overhead lamp that provided lighting to give you a better view at what you’re working on, surrounded the table. 

“We got ambushed on patrol, fortunately he’s the only one that got hit, a VC jumped out of the grass and stabbed him. We got pressure on the wound, and he’s still alive- for now.” 

You nodded as you went to a basin to pull on some sterile gloves, and walked over to examine the soldier. He was handsome- you couldn’t help but noticed but quickly put that out of your mind. A full head of deep beautiful brown hair, and a thick beard framed his face. He looked older, possibly in his mid 30’s. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as his teeth were gritted and eyes cinched shut in pain. A wave of sorrow hit you, as you never liked seeing people in pain, it hits you bad enough to wonder why you chose to go into the medical profession of all things. Nevertheless, you push through, and began working on removing the uniform so you can see if you can save this one. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Whats his name?”

“Logan ma’am. He’s Private First Class.”  The private responds, voice professional, but quickly drops into something softer. “He’s a good guy, and smart, usually quick on his feet, its surprising someone ambushed him…” 

“Need any help ma’am?” The other private who brought him in ask.

“No, I got it, thank you.” You tell them as you grab some sheers and began cutting through Logan's army garments. “Just make sure others are alright. See if any of the boys out there need water.”

They nodded, saluting- leading you to roll your eyes- and left your section of the tent, just as you manage to cut off the white wife beater he was sporting underneath his army garments, giving you a complete view of where he had been stabbed. You breathed a small sigh of relief, the wound appeared in the part of the torso where nothing vital was located and you managed to roll him to his side- seeing the stabbing didn’t go straight through, meaning this guy had a good chance of surviving, assuming he doesn’t succumb to infection…

“Alright Logan,” You turned you head to look at the man, who was still tense, eyes squeezed shut. He was somewhat awake, with his breathing and the way his muscles contracted, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on, you still felt it important to talk to whoever you were treating though. You had to hold the hands of many scared soldiers, and quickly have learned the right things to say when comforting. “I’m going to take care of you, and in return, you’re going to need to be strong for me here.” You say softly but firmly to him, hoping that he’s hearing you through the pain, as you went and quickly grabbed a wet cloth out of a basin nearby, squeezing out the excess water, and gently placing it over his forehead, in order to soak up some sweat, and provide some more comfort to cool his skin that seemed to be burning hot. You couldn’t help but note that you don’t recognize him- you wouldn’t have forgotten his face that’s for damn sure, if he’d ever came to visit you, which most privates in this camp has at one time or another. You shook the curiosity out of your head, you had to move quickly, fighting the urge to wanting to take in the details of his face- his very handsome face, and moved to focus back onto the wound on his torso. 

You started by slowly removing the packed bandages, examining the blood flow to make sure nothing gushed, but he really wasn’t bleeding much anymore- actually, it didn’t look like he was bleeding at all now. Confused, you began cleaning the area of the stab wound so you could get a clear view of what you were looking at. At first, you thought you were losing your mind, you had to been because what you were seeing…

It was as if the skin was growing back, the wound, going inwards seemed to almost pop out, before the skin stitched together, going through what the bodys usual healing process would look like- except doing it within a matter of seconds. Turning from a bright red inflamed wound, into a baby pink scar bump that slowly faded off, you couldn’t even tell anything had happen there- except from the blood stained around it. You were blinking in disbelief, mouth slightly agape, before it suddenly occurred to you what you were just seeing.

Oh

Oh shit-

He’s a mutant.

You looked at the man, who’s muscles seemed to be relaxing now, as he took deeper breaths, the sweat on his face began to dry and disappear. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, you’re so used to every minute counting to fix someone, and this guy just healed himself in seconds!

And by god, he was so handsome. You thought that already, got to stop thinking about that. Turning away from his face, you went to examine where the stab wound used to be, gloved fingers gently pressing on the area- before the soldier- Logan, practically yelped- and sat up rushed on the table, startling you even more so than him, as you jumped back, hands in the air in surrender- as if you did anything wrong.

He was panting, the cold wet cloth you had placed on his forehead fell into his lap, as he looked around with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, he almost looked animal-like in this state. He turned to look at you. His eyes took you in, and suddenly you felt embarrassed by your army clothes you were sporting, green cargo pants, and a green collared button up shirt, tucked into your pants, making you feel less than girlish in them, despite their comfortability, your forehead was covered in sweat, and your hair pulled back in a bun neat bun with baby hairs sticking out everywhere. At least you had lipstick on to give yourself a little bit of a pop in your plain looking outfit. That should be the last thing you should be worried about. 

“You’re okay-” You finally found your voice, holding your hands out to him, “You got ambushed, but you’re okay now.” 

He blinked, then let out a small sigh, his whole self seeming to relax, his expression turned more human-like, as he faced forward, then looked down at himself. His hand went over where he had been hurt- seeing that there was no longer any injury there, although something in his expression told you he could still feel it. He swallowed, jaw tensing, before realization struck him, and his head snapped to look at you. 

“You saw- You know, don’t you?” He asks, his voice was deep, but sounded a little dry and scratchy. Still, it was enough to make your knees weak. 

You turned, going to a cabinet that held medicines and various other supplies, but on the counter was a pitcher of water and a few glass cups. Pulling off your gloves, you poured a cup from the pitcher, turning back and handing it to him. 

“Yeah. I saw.” You say cooly, holding it out for him to take. He looked at you, his deep and should you think gorgeous hazel eyes felt like they were piercing your soul; as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head, which you wish you knew as well because his stare was making your brain fuzzy; then glanced at the cup and finally took it from your hand, your fingers brushing together, making your heartbeat just a little faster, and you could feel a small heat blooming in your cheeks.

Jesus christ, pull yourself together 

You thought to yourself. You cleared your throat while he took several swigs of water, dropping his hand with the cup to his side as he took a moment to breathe once more. 

“Got anything stronger?” He asks, his low and smoother now, quirking a brow at you. You smiled, 

“Sorry, anything alcoholic you may want to drink in here, I gotta save for the guys who can’t heal themselves within minutes.” You say teasingly. “Supplies are low enough already.” 

You could see a small quirk of his lips, in something resembling a smile. He was still tense though, his eyes seemed to be somewhere else. He looked at you again,

“Does it…scare you? Me being a mutant?” He asks, his voice low

“Um….No?” You responded, confusion on your face, a small shake of your head, “Why would it?” 

He seemed relieved- and surprised by that answer, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he took another drink of water, eyes closing as he finished the cup, and handed it back to you, where you set it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he sat up more confidently, bending his leg as he brought his knee up to his chest, and propped his forearm over it, and leaned back on his other hand, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his head down, then looked back up at you, his expression suddenly stern.

“You gonna tell them?” He asks. You knew he was referring to the army. Mutants weren’t well accepted in the world- much less the US army. The American government is actually sitting comfortably in the capital and writing out bullshit laws on mutant regulations, rather than trying to figure out a solution for the war here in Vietnam. You, a mutant yourself, albeit your powers were easy to hide and conceal, you still feared of a day that someone somehow discovers your secret. You’ve heard stories of American soldiers revealed to be mutants being killed, due to some bullshit excuse that they “lied” about who they were, and couldn’t be trusted. Whether those stories were true or fearmongering to keep mutants hiding their true identities, you didn’t know, but you certainly weren’t gonna find out yourself. You definitely wouldn’t put another fellow mutant, just trying to survive like you, in any sort of danger like that, even if he could probably just heal if he got put in front of a firing squad.

You pursed your lips together. Then smiled. “No. I’ll keep your secret.” You say. “All it means to me is that I have one less person to worry about around here. I was actually wondering why I hadn’t seen your face in this tent yet before, and now I know why.” 

He softened at that, but his face quickly fell back into something more serious and stern once more, which you’re starting to think might be his baseline. 

“You okay?” You asked, your voice was soft, and sweet, and borderline angelic for a man like him, who’s been in wars almost his entire life- which you don’t know about that. “That probably didn’t feel good, what happened.” He nodded. 

“M’ fine….Thank you.” He grumbles lowly, looking down at his hands. “I heard about you- actually I-I seen you around. You’re the only nurse on camp?” He asked, looking back up at you, there seemed to be a bit of curiosity in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty popular.” You say, in a teasing voice, blushing at the thought that he’s noticed you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you are quite literally the only woman around, save for the women in the village not far from here.  

“Must be busy.”

“Oh… Nah-” You playfully wave him off. “Some days are so slow, I’m actually bored.” You say matter-of-factly, but you both knew you were kidding. Another quirk of his lips. You smiled softly at him, but there was a voice in your head telling you, that since he doesn’t need your help, you should probably get back to helping the ones who do. Not that you want to leave, he was so damn handsome, you could stare at him all day. It wasn’t just his good looks though, his whole self drew you in with just a few words, and you find yourself wanting to get to know Logan, because the look in his eyes told you that he was someone worth knowing. Or maybe that was just your hormones talking. There was just this energy between you both, some type of unseen connection. His eyes trailed down you again, this time fully taking you in, stopping at your chest, and for a moment you were about to be completely turned off by this man being a pervert, but he nodded towards it. 

“Your necklace?” He asked. You looked down, oh, you thought to yourself. You pulled the string of your necklace, lifting the small coin that it held, string carefully wrapped around it so it doesn’t fall off.

“It’s a prayer coin. A priest gave it to me.” You explained. “It’s the archangel Raphael. A protector, patron saint of medical workers, like doctors, nurses.”

“Like you?” 

You nodded. He examined it, before you tucked it back under your shirt. You usually keep it hidden, but it must have fallen out while you were rushing. Now it was silent again, and you both weren’t sure what to do or say. 

“Well….” You took a breath, you glanced down at his abdomen, and suddenly your brows creased in concentration. 

“What?” He asked, by your sudden change in demeanor. 

“You can’t exactly walk out with no injury. Those two privates were pretty worried about you.” You say, putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips together. You clicked your tongue.

“I can figure something out-”

“No no-” You held your hand up and looking around the room. “Those privates brought you in, there’s probably an incident report written right now, not to mention I have to write a report on your injuries too-” you explained. “I mean, how are you gonna explain it if you walk out, completely A-okay?”

Logan shrugged simply. “I can think of something, it isn’t the first time this happened.” You rolled your eyes. Men. 

You rather not waste bandages on a pretend injury, but you need someway to get his injury to look believeable, thats when you spotted your answer. His white tank top that you had drop to the floor, it was good enough to wrap around him, making him look as if he’s been all fixed up from his stab wound. The shirts cotton texture looked similar to the pattern of a bandage, and was good enough, especially considering no one would be looking hard enough at his wound anyway.

After a few minutes of “fixing him up” with your solution to keep his regenerative abilities a secret, you stood back examining the fake bandage/shirt that you tore up and wrapped around his torso, using bandage pins to hold it in place. Then shrugged. 

“It’s good enough.” You say. “You’re not going anywhere anyway, so it’s not like you’ll raise a bunch of questions. It looks like you have an injury, it’ll match the incident and medical report. You won’t get found out.”

“I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow. 

“Nope. You were injured, which means I gotta keep an eye on you. So you’ll be sleeping here, and you’ll have to pretend you’re in pain, whining and moaning and all that. Give it your best performance.” You encourage. “Take it, not many around here get a chance to get a break like that.” 

He looked at you, pondering what you were offering him- well, you weren’t offering, he was going to have do it because you weren’t gonna risk him revealing himself as a mutant, which for some reason you were now more concerned about than he was. A small smirk appeared on his face, “That mean you’ll be waiting on me then, hand and foot?”

You smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself soldier.” You say teasingly. “You can stay in here a little longer, rest up, maybe shed some tears to make it look like you’re suffering tremendously.” You added a little flair as you brought your hand up to your forehead, pretending to faint, before turning and walking away to leave the room, now knowing you really needed to get back to work.

“I don’t think I need to shed any tears.” He mutters, but there was amusement in his tone though. “Hey bub” He called after you as you were about to leave the room, lifting the tent flap, but you stopped to look at him. “Why are you seen keen on helping me out? Making a plan to make sure people don’t find out what I am…Seems like too much trouble to go through for you.” He frowned. 

“Well…” You dropped the flap of the tent, “Us mutants gotta stick together, right?” Logan looked surprised at first, eyes widening a bit, and jaw slacking, but then a soft, genuine smile stretched across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaving you thinking that was a smile you never wanted to go without again. Smiling back at him, you winked, and turned back before stopping and looking at him again, “Plus, you seem worth the trouble.” You add, before finally leaving him to himself.

Maybe it was too much trouble. You could leave Logan to figure it out himself. You two didn’t know each other, you weren’t friends. Yet you, the compassionate self you are, and also slightly bull-headed, was not going to leave Logan hanging alone. Maybe it was the fact that you were both mutants that urged you to help him, let him know that someone like him out there has his back, even if he had many brothers at his side watching his back too. Or maybe it was because you felt an undeniable pull towards him- and him towards you. 

While he stayed in the medical tent with you for about a week, the standard time for stitches to stay in. While staying, you both got to know each other better. You found a deep friendship with Logan quickly, both of you having an understanding of each other, not just as mutants but as individuals as well. You were able to laugh, usually at his snarky remarks to the other privates and even his comments to the higher-ups, surprising you in how he likes to occasionally challenge authority despite how quiet and reflective he can be some moments. You saw him as brave, smart, and he was protective, always going first in patrols, and keeping an eye on the younger privates. He’d hid it well, rarely making it seen, but he had a compassion that made your heart swell, especially when you came across him comforting a young private who was homesick and scared. He had a good instinct that seems to attest to his mutation- which he later revealed the full aspects of it to you later on, claws and everything- which did nothing but fascinate you, leading to a full acceptance of him he hadn’t felt or seen in a long time. He’d visit you in late nights when he wasn’t assigned guard patrol, bringing you something to eat or drink, and you’d both quietly talk about your lives, and how’d you ended up there. He listened to you complain about the lack of supplies, and how you got into medicine in the first place. You’d learn of his brother Victor- another Private First Class there at the camp, who you quickly learned a distaste for after meeting him, and how old they both really were- leading you to bombard him with history questions, that he simply answered “I wasn’t there bub.” There was an unspoken yet mutual physical and spiritual attraction between you both, but before anything could have gone further in your relationship, down in the thick muddy jungles of Vietnam, you suffered a similar fate as your mentor Doctor Jones. A stray bullet having shot through your shoulder while you were out, attempting to help a young private who’s leg unfortunately got caught in a dirt trap. You were okay, but orders sent you home on a medical discharge, saying you fulfilled your duty to the States. 

You missed Logan, and you also found yourself struggling to find your place back in civilian life again, the stress and the trauma of the things you saw weighed heavy in your mind, not to mention the worry you felt over Logan's safety while he was still over there. The only thing easing your worries was the letters you wrote to each other, until one day his letters stopped coming, and your own got returned back to you with no explanation, leaving you in fear of the worst….

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Soldat -Oneshot

Word count: 2643 **This is a different version of Soldat x chubby!reader than “Zhihn Moya.”**

Y/N ran as fast as she could, trying to keep up with Alexander Pierce as they turned a corner.  Yelling and loud thumps of bodies being thrown around echoed through the basement as they entered the room they were keeping the Asset in.

“Why is he out of cryo without me supervising?” Y/N asked in anger.

“New mission.  Just contain him!” Pierce yelled at her.

She glared at him then focused back on the Asset.  He was shirtless, standing but slightly crouched near the opposite wall, his hair and body wet with sweat and the ice melting off him, shivering and breathing heavily as his wide eyes flicked across the room, ready to spring at whoever came close to him next.  Three scientists' bodies were behind her, groaning in pain or completely passed out from being thrown across the room.  Four handlers were facing him, their taser batons raised and pointing at him.  Y/N raised her hands in surrender and slowly approached.

“Soldat!” she called out.  His eyes snapped to her, a flicker of recognition in them, but his stance didn’t let up.  “Stand down,” she said, touching the shoulder of the nearest handler.  “Put your weapons down, now!”  They all gawked at her, glancing at Pierce who reiterated her order and then they slowly lowered their weapons and backed away behind her.  She took a few more steps toward him, and he watched her, assessing whether she was a threat or not.  “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said quietly.  “I’m here to help you.”  She stopped within three feet of him and held out her hand.  “Just a little pinch and it’ll all be over, remember?”

His eyes blinked rapidly at that phrase, and his face twitched as his mind worked hard to make sense of what was happening.  Y/N felt bad for the man.  She wasn’t allowed to know anything about him other than his medical history.  Her job was to bring him out of cryo containment safely and efficiently.  Obviously they had pulled him out without the proper procedure, causing him to become volatile.  If she had a choice she wouldn’t be here, but she was just as much a prisoner as he was, used for her skill set and forced to do things she would never do under normal circumstances.  She took a deep breath and a small step forward, and his stance started to relax.  “That’s right, Soldat, very good,” she said, using praise to reassure him.  

His face softened as he stared at her, his brow upturned and a frown on his lips.  His metal hand raised, and he slowly reached out until he laid his hand in her palm.  She gave him a smile, her fingers wrapping around his hand gently.  “Good, Soldat, good,” she said, slightly pulling him toward her.  “Come sit and I’ll take care of it.”

He minutely nodded, letting her pull him toward the chair in the center of the room.  The handlers and Pierce all watched silently as she had him sit, then grabbed a towel nearby from the cryo kit that they had neglected and wrapped it around his shoulders, wiping off his hair, face and over his upper body as best as she could.  She took the saline drip and set it up near him, inserting it into a vein in his flesh arm as carefully and gently as she could to help him get some fluids.  She did a quick medical check up on him, and when she was finished turned to Pierce.

“He’s healthy, no thanks to any of you,” she seethed.  “Once again, if you want him to come out of cryo in a stable state you have to do it the right way, or else you’ll keep losing scientists and handlers,” she gestured to the scientists still passed out cold on the floor.  “He’s still a human underneath all this.  His body and mind need time to recuperate.”  

Pierce approached her, his gaze flitting back and forth between her and the Soldat.  “He seems to have formed an attachment to you,” he said.  “I wonder…”  He slightly turned then backhanded Y/N.  She yelped and stumbled back, falling at the Soldat’s feet, who was across the room in two strides and holding Pierce by the throat.

“Stand down!” Pierce choked, clawing at the metal hand.  The handlers all started yelling and screaming at the Soldat, who didn’t seem to hear any of them as he pushed Pierce against the wall and off his feet.  Pierce’s eyes were going bloodshot as he looked at Y/N.  “Call him off, or your family’s dead!”

Y/N was crying, holding her cheek as she tasted blood on her lip.  “Soldat,” she tried to speak loudly, but it came out as a sobbed whimper.  He immediately turned to look at her.  “Let him go,” she cried.

He dropped Pierce and walked back over to her.  As Pierce coughed and wheezed by the wall the Soldat stooped down in front of her.  His hands cupped her face, inspecting where Pierce hit her, his flesh thumb wiping at the blood on her split lip then using the towel hanging off his shoulder to wipe it off gently.

“For fuck’s sake,” Pierce said, clearing his throat and getting help standing up from one of the handlers.  “We wipe his mind but he still has a bleeding heart.”

Y/N cried harder, knowing that Pierce had found a new motivation for the Soldat to do Hydra’s bidding: her.  The Soldat kept looking at her intently, and she could see the war in his eyes, like he knew that he knew her but couldn’t place from where or what.  All he knew was that she had taken care of him, and she was the only one treating him with any decency or kindness.  She gripped his wrists, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Tell him to get in the chair,” Pierce barked at her.

She swallowed hard, giving the Soldat as sorry an expression as she could.  They were going to wipe him again, drain what little humanity they could out of him and make him do unspeakable things.  She could see his fear as his gaze flickered to the chair with the machine attached to it behind her.

“Soldat, please,” she whispered.  “I’m sorry.”

His jaw ticked, his fingers tightening slightly on her face, but he looked resigned as he let go of her and stood, walking to the chair and sitting back down in it.  The handlers made him sit back in the chair, and just as he was about to try and squirm away Pierce hauled Y/N on her feet and pointed a gun at her head.  The Soldat glared at him, stiffening in the seat.

“Be good, Soldat, and sit still,” Pierce said patronizingly.  “Unless you want her brains on the floor.”

His gaze met hers, and the tortured, wounded look reappeared.  Y/N was still crying, wishing she could do something, anything, to save him.  She tried giving him a reassuring smile, and unless her mind was playing tricks on her, she saw the slightest lift of his lips back at her.  He leaned back into the chair, letting the handlers strap him down and put a mouthguard between his teeth.  

“Wipe him,” Pierce said, and they pushed a button on the machine, making it come to life.  The Soldat’s breathing became heavier again, his body remembering what the machine meant as the panic settled into him.  The machine’s arms set two face plates on either side of his head, and as the machine shocked him he let out a muffled scream.  

Y/N struggled against Pierce’s hold, wanting to run away or get him out of there.  “Now now, Miss Y/L/N,” he said lowly, keeping his gun against her head.  “Remember your place and his.  He is the fist of Hydra, and you are only here to make sure he can be the weapon we need him to be.  If you find yourself unable to do so, or you try to pull any funny business in helping him, your family will be killed, and maybe we’ll give you as a little treat to the Asset right after he’s wiped, then make him kill you.  Do I make myself clear?”

The Soldat continued to scream, his body shaking and twitching as the machine continued its horrific zapping and buzzing sounds.  Y/N nodded, her heart sinking at the sight, and as the proof of any humane life drained from his eyes, so did any of the hope she had left.  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

***

Y/N could have never predicted that just a few days later Hydra would fall.  The Soldat was in the wind, and she was able to slip away as the inner workings of Hydra scrambled to go into hiding and rework themselves underground.  She tried returning to her family, only to find out that Hydra had already killed them long before, and had been using her ignorance of their deaths as a pawn all this time.  She felt incredible anger and guilt at what she had been coerced and forced to do, and wished she could find the Soldat and apologize.

She tried to restart her life, changing her middle and last name and relocating to another country.  She had always wanted to see Scotland, and found a job as a medical assistant in Edinburgh.  For the next ten years she tried to wash away the memory and sins of her past.  She made new friends, and tried to date, but just couldn’t seem to let herself love anyone.  She was too afraid to let anyone in again, in case Hydra ever found her and tried to drag her back into the organization.

She had seen news reports about what had happened after Hydra was revealed, and learned that the Soldat was actually James Buchanan Barnes, the lost Howling Commando and best friend to Captain America.  As much as she wanted to try reaching out to him, to apologize, to check up on him and see how he was doing, anything, she didn’t feel like it was her place.  He was free from Hydra, and she didn’t want to open old wounds and retraumatize him.

One day as she was out grocery shopping on a rare day off, pushing her shopping trolley back home from the shop, she kept getting the feeling that she was being watched.  She looked around subtly, trying to pinpoint where it could be coming from, but didn’t find anything.  She kept looking over her shoulder the whole way home, sighing heavily when she was able to close and lock the door to her apartment.  As she unloaded everything from her trolley and started pulling things out for dinner, she felt the feeling again and stiffened.  Someone was in the house.  She didn’t know why or how she knew, she just did.  She reached toward the knife block on the counter.

“That won’t help you,” a voice called out.

Y/N whipped herself around and gasped.  Her eyes bulged, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the man sitting at the kitchen island behind her.  “S-soldat?” she whispered.

He smirked at her.  “It’s actually Bucky,” he said.  

She looked him over, her panic slightly lessening but still on high alert.  His hair was short, his beard grown in and slightly greying along his chin.  He had a teasing look on his face as he watched her, and the silver hand that she was expecting was now a charcoal color with gold peeking through the plates on his fingers.  He slowly stood and walked around the island toward her.  She backed up against the counter, unsure of what was going on.

“You’re…are you…” she paused, swallowing harshly.  

“I’m out,” he said quietly.  “I’m free.  And I’m glad to see you’re out, too.”  He stopped about a foot away from her and held out his flesh hand.  “Bucky Barnes.”

Y/N scoffed, glancing at his hand then reaching her hand out to shake it.  “Y/N Y/L/N,” she greeted him.  “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand.  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.  “Look, I know it’s weird for me to just show up like this.  I just wanted to find you and thank you for all you did for me back then.”  He was still holding her hand and looked down at it, repositioning his hand to hold hers and run his thumb along her knuckles.  “You were…a bright light for me.  The only kind voice I’d heard and gentle hand I’d felt in decades.  I’m sorry for all they put you through because of me–”

“Don’t,” Y/N said, interrupting him and taking a step forward.  “None of that was your fault.  I don’t blame you for any of it.  Can you forgive me for ever being a part of it?”

Bucky frowned and shook his head, bringing their joined hands to his chest.  “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said.  “We were both forced into doing things we didn’t want to do.  I don’t blame you for any of it, either.”

Y/N didn’t realize she was crying until his metal hand cupped the side of her face and wiped away a tear.  His metal thumb swiped at the spot along her lip where she had bled after Pierce slapped her, his eyes conveying how much he remembered that last day they’d seen each other.  She inhaled shakily, trying to relax after the confusing swirl of emotions she was feeling.  Relief, first and foremost, at finally feeling like she had made some kind of difference in his life and the fact that he was free now.  The dissipating fear from feeling watched, now knowing she wasn’t in danger.  And now a strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a long time…

Bucky slowly leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, his gaze flitting across her face, looking cautious and hesitant.  “I know we don’t actually know each other, but I’d like to get to know you better.  Because if you were able to see and care about me, even then, then I think you might just be a pretty special person that I’d like to have around in my life.”

Y/N smiled up at him, staring deep into his eyes.  “I’d like that,” she replied.

He smiled back at her, his eyes focusing on her lips.  “There’s that smile,” he mused.  “Like sunshine.”

She blushed, her cheeks hurting from how wide she was smiling.  “Well aren’t you a charmer?” she giggled.

“I used to be,” he said.  “Still working on figuring out who I am now.”

“I’m afraid to tell you that’s gonna be a lifelong pursuit,” Y/N arched an eyebrow at him.  “We’re all just figuring out who we are day by day.”

His eyebrows raised at her.  “Caring, pretty and philosophical?  Girl after my own heart,” he teased.

Y/N’s eyes widened at him.  “God, Bucky,” she scoffed, turning away and burying her face into his shoulder to hide her deepening blush.

Bucky laughed, wrapping his arms around her.  “Aw, did I get to you?  That’s cute,” he said.  His arms tightened around her, his hands rubbing up and down her back and then along her sides.  “You feel good in my arms, you know that?” he said quietly, humming as she hugged him back.  “Pretty sunshine.”

She felt him kiss the top of her head and her breath stuttered.  “Are you trying to kill me with all this sweetness?” she murmured against his chest.

“Nah, can’t have you dying on me now, sunshine,” Bucky said.  “We’ve got too much time to make up for.”

[zhivaoverdrive]

Saline Thief, 3

At this moment, all Amy wished was that the nurse would speak quietly. But alas.

"Now, I know it says scheduled fill here, but it's been a while since we've seen you!" chirped the nurse Laura, as the two women walked from the waiting room.

"I've just been b-" Amy began.

"XL expander implants, 8000cc capacity! Wow" said Laura, her tone hovering between playful and concerning.

"So much room to grow, but maybe we can max you out today!" she continued.

"This is absurd" thought Amy to herself.

"Here I am, struggling to keep walking pace, my tits pumped so huge they're pulling me off balance with every step.

I don't own any bras, I can't even find a place to custom make me one.

This nurse KNOWS what I've done, why is she teasing me this way? Should I just admit it-"

Entering the room, Laura motioned for her to sit.

"Okie dokie! shirt off. Let's see what we can do today huh!" said the nurse gleefully.

Moment of truth, perhaps time to rip the bandaid off?

Surely the charade would end once her monstrously expanded breasts were exposed.

Noone can look at what I've done to myself... and let me go further. 

These spheres I'm attached to, their tortured vein covered skin, areolas stretched as wide as a palm.

Amy had been trying to adjust as quickly as she could, but the damage from her night missions was... incalculably.  Unmanageable.

She still didn't have an accurate count, but her '8k expanders' must have been closer to 30,000cc than they were 8. "Sweetie, if you don't mind me saying..." began Laura

Here it comes. I've been such an idiot. Why did I get so ahead of myself...

I should have stayed home, ghosted this place. What did I expect to happen

"You're looking GREAT for only 4500cc! 

I know you've got your heart set on hitting your implant capacity today, but..."

UGH. I don't remember saying that. This is all her idea, she's baiting me.

Wants me to admit what I've done. To save myself.

I can't take any more filling! She knows it!

"Well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves... I can't recommend overfilling you too much, the weight could start to really affect your life you know!" said Laura, as she gently caressed Amy's orbs, either testing their elasticity or appreciating her grossly stretched skin, riddled with veins and stretch marks.

"Doubling your size today with a teeny overfill would really be pushing the limit... you're such a slight girl after all!"

The nurse causally connected the filling apparatus as she spoke, consulting the small electronic control unit in her hand every now and then, when she wasn't touching Amy's hopelessly inflated breasts, that is.

“Try to hold still Amy! You’re wiggling all over the place. Can’t you stand up still for just a moment?” chastised Laura, as her patient struggled to manage the immense burdens in her chest.

Even seated, Amy struggled to stay upright without moving, she was already exhausted…

“I’ve hurt my back-” Amy tried to explain, to no avail.

Nurse Laura grinned. It wasn’t malicious, but it wasn’t friendly.

“You’ll have to look after your back sweetie, they’re not going to get any lighter!

"Rest on the desk, let's get lefty up to capacity, then see how we're looking, shall we? I'll be back to check on you soon!"

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 6

Summary: Andy’s

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, Scott Huffman, mentions of Suede’s bee stings, cute and sweet Ransom, self esteem issues, oral sex (F receiving), body worship, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers @firefly-graphics

Lifting up Suede’s hand, you kiss over his welts and swollen skin. He had finally gone to sleep a little bit ago, and now you get to fully look over his pitiful body. Eyes puffy, nearly swollen shut, while welts dot over his exposed skin in a grotesque painful looking way. Putting his arm down, you glance over at Audrey who is nodding off to sleep. Lifting up her hand where a pretty pink bandage now resides to kiss her sting as well. She was a trooper through it all.

“Mommy, I’m sleepy,” she groans, looking up at you. You know how tired she is, her eyes tell you everything. She looks towards Andy, and then at you. He has been amazing. Calm, and rational, while you’ve been a ball of emotions. “Can Andy hold me like you are Suede so I can sleep?”

It hadn’t ever occurred to you how much Andy stepped back more with Audrey. Not because he didn’t like her or wasn’t comfortable, but because she has a voice, and she has a great relationship with her father. So instead of forcing, Andy waits on her. “If it’s okay with him, why don’t you ask?”

“Andy,” she sleepily says looking at him. He already leans back in the chair, but waits for her to actually ask him, “Can you hold me, so I can sleep?”

“Of course, princess,” you hold her hand, so she can jump off the exam table, and she wobbles one time before she gets to Andy, and he picks up your abnormally small daughter, and lets her koala on him, using his shoulder as a resting spot for her head. It’s nearly instantly her breathing changes.

“Thank you,” you sigh, wiping tears from your eyes. You thought you loved Andy, but seeing him in dad mode makes you love him more. It still shocks you just how much you do love him in this state, “Not just for that, but today. All of it. It was a good day, until it wasn’t.”

“Were you aware of his allergy to bees?” You shake your head no, and tears steadily stream down your cheeks. It is just another thing to add to his growing list. Food allergies were terrifying, but you still had ways to control them. Bees are something you can't. You can’t keep him inside, locked up in a bubble.

“Honey,” Andy coos, trying to soothe you from afar, and you shake your head in frustration. Wiping away the saline trails that stain your face.

“No, being a mother is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I love it. But seeing him like this, and how he was earlier; Andy, I could have lost him.”

“But we didn’t,” a new round of never ending tears flow freely, and he doesn’t even realize what those two letters mean to you. We. You didn’t have to do this alone. You didn’t have to sit here with Suede, while Scott took Audrey home. You didn’t have to carry all this emotion and responsibility alone.

“Seeing him like that never gets easier.”

“How many times have you had to use the EpiPen?”

“That was just the second time. But it was somehow worse. It happened so fast, and I could see him straining to breathe, and he just couldn’t. And he was just looking up at me, so scared, and in so much pain. Seventeen times,” you lament. “He was stung seventeen times. And everything was rushing around us, and all I could see was my baby unable to just breathe. Allergies suck.”

“Fuck allergies,” you snort out a laughter as you brush back Suede’s curls. Even swollen, he is one of the most beautiful babies you’ve ever seen. Him and Audrey tied. Everyone thinks their own children are beautiful, but you just know, you have the most beautiful babies ever.

Andy stands abruptly when the door opens, followed by the doctor. Audrey never stirs, and he holds her tighter. It was such a fluid motion, like he was meant to be a father. Standing at attention for any news. “Alright, Mr. And Mrs. Huffman,” Andy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. The doctor thought the kids were his, and that’s all he cares about. Even if the last name annoyed him.

“I think it’s safe to say that Suede is allergic to bees for now. Here’s a prescription for a new EpiPen, and we’ve got him scheduled for a visit with his allergist. He needs to be tested again,” you assumed that was coming, and you dread it.

“Is there a possibility he isn’t allergic and it was because of the amount of stings?” Out of the corner of your eyes you see Andy slowly rub over Audrey’s back. Whether it was to keep her asleep or his own anxiety, you’re not sure, but in a weird way it soothes you.

The doctor sighs, “It’s possible of course, but you still need to go to the allergist. Other than that, he’s fine. He’ll probably need to do a sinus wash, give him his antihistamine, monitor him, but other than that, he’s free to go,” you nod. Overwhelmed, and exhausted yourself. Scooting to the edge of the exam table before Andy steps over, holding out his hand.

“Mrs. Huffman, I see you look defeated, and you shouldn’t be. He’s a strong boy, and you reacted quickly. You did everything that you could to prevent anything terrible. Don’t beat yourself up. Your son is a happy healthy boy because of how you two are raising him,” Andy beams. Standing up straighter, but then he looks at you, softening his smile as he helps you off the table. “Suede deserves lots of rest, and may I suggest mango sorbet?”

“We’ll keep that in mind, doctor. Thank you,” his words lift so much pressure off your back. Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe the way you feel. Exhaustion laces through every fiber of your body as you and Andy walk out of the ER. His hand firmly planted on the small of your back.

“I should have said that he’s a happy healthy boy because of the way that you have been raising him. Your kids are incredible because of you,” you hate crying. Despise it. And today you have cried so much! “Hey,” you look at Andy as he places Audrey in her seat. Taking so much care, so he doesn’t wake her up, “Can you let me shoulder some of this burden?”

Placing your baby boy in his seat, you peer at Andy from across the car, and nod your head. Clearing your throat, “As long as you let me carry some of your burdens.”

“Doe, I’ve never kept any secrets from you. You know all about my life, my family, and you still want me in yours and their life. But yes, if it gets too hard, we can be each other’s support,” for the first time since you heard Suede’s pained cries, and Audrey’s shrill screams, you smile. This is a difficult situation, but knowing you’re not alone as you trudge through this uncharted territory helps. Things don’t feel so heavy.

Settling into the car, Andy grabs your hand in his own quickly, while you lay up against his shoulder. Just breathing, and just listening to them. All of them. Including Andy.

“Auds, what cha doing?” Andy places another dish in the dishwasher, while Audrey sticks her tongue out, scribbling something on a piece of paper. She sits up on her knees with her face so close to the paper. “Audrey, you’re going to hurt your eyes,” and she sits back a bit more, and looks up at Andy.

“Who is the ban-if again?” Her head twists to the side, looking like a puppy as Andy throws a towel on the counter, walking towards the dinner table. He looks down at the picture Audrey has been coloring, and bites his tongue.

“This is the judge. That is the defense attorney, and this is you, the prosecutor. But what is the ban-if? I can’t remember.”

“Bailiff,” Andy says softly, reaching for his own crayon. He draws a person, and Audrey looks up at him smiling. “Do you remember what they do?”

“Umm,” he tries to make sense of this. Tries to figure out why a four year old is drawing parts of a courtroom for fun when she should be actually playing. Or coloring My Little Ponies or something. Anything but this. “That’s the one that is like a police officer? And they can take criminals back to jail?”

“Yeah, they’re the ones that keep the courtroom safe. Why are you doing this?”

Her brow furrows while she starts drawing figures in the jury box. Pausing to count each one, and Andy lets out a long breath, “Daddy said I’m going to be a lawyer, so I need to know these things,” she stops again, poking a finger at each figure, drawing in two more. “Twelve.”

Audrey leans back in her chair, looking up at Andy, “Can I have an applesauce pack?” Finally something normal for a child. He gets up out of his seat, and returns with two pouches. One for him, and one for her. She only eats one squeeze before she stares at her drawing. “Did Suede almost die?”

“No,” he answers without hesitation. Not almost. He could have, but everyone did what they needed to do.

“He looked purple though,” Andy’s fingers drum over the kitchen table, trying to think of a way to answer her questions. Questions that you might refuse to answer. “I tell Taylor that Suede can’t have walnuts or eggs because he’ll die, but can he really?”

“Yes, he can. But that’s why we carry those pens with us. They’re the safety measure until we get him to the hospital. As long as we’re careful…”

“How does…no. I mean, is he going to always look like that now?” Her face crinkles up a bit, “He was cuter before.”

“The swelling will go down. I’m sure it’ll look different for a few days, but it won’t stay that way. Are you okay? You know you can talk to your mom, me, even your dad about this whenever you want,” she looks back down at her drawing, and shakes her head. “No, you’re not okay?”

“I’m okay, but daddy don’t like to talk about this, and it makes mommy sad.”

“I’ll always listen. Mommy will, too. Even if it makes her sad,” he sees a slight grin edge up on her face before he settles back into his chair, and she picks up a different crayon. He couldn’t stop what’s already been done, so might add to it, “Where does the witness sit during cross examination?”

Her body wiggles around excitedly, drawing a square next to the judge, and then a little figure, “Good job, sweetheart,” he says, flicking his head towards the door before he jogs off to answer the knock. “Evening, Scott.”

“Where’s my son?” he pushes past Andy, and into the foyer, walking down the hall, and deeper in the house. Looking around the living room when he doesn’t see Suede. “And my daughter?”

“Audrey is doing courtroom homework in the dining room, and Suede is getting a bath in the big tub,” he flicks his eyes towards the dining room, before returning to Andy. “Audrey’s fine. I think you should check on Suede.”

Scott rolls his eyes before walking towards his old bedroom. Glancing towards the open closet, and his jaw tightens. Andy’s clothes were all in the closet. In the hamper. A different bed. He barely knocks on the door to the bathroom before opening it, and Suede looks at you before standing up in the tub, and trying to give you a hug. You softly run your hand up and down his back, keeping your movements slow. Careful not to be harsh on his welts.

Scott scans over Suede’s body before leaning back on the bathroom counter, and Suede gives him a little smile, realizing he wasn’t there to take him from you. You keep humming the song you had been humming before Suede squats back down, and falls into the water with a laugh.

“How is he?” It’s one of the first times you’ve ever felt like Scott has sounded concerned for Suede. “How many stings? My god. Buddy, you okay?”

“Chess. Mama. Na Na,” his few words turn to gibberish, and Scott pinches the bridge of his nose.

“He’s got to go back to the allergist, and get pricked again,” your hand skims the warm water. Trying to relax Suede, but relax yourself more. The ability to see all his stings hurt you so much.

“I think it’s safe to say that he’s allergic to bees. How many stings?”

Suede’s hand reaches towards yours before he stands, and creates a slide down the back of the tub. Giggling before doing it again. “You know I don’t like when he does that in my house.”

“Seventeen times,” you try to change the subject. Suede rarely took a bath in the big tub. And as soon as you caught Scott fucking the babysitter, his rules for your children having fun didn’t apply anymore. “Audrey was stung once.”

“Is she okay?” Keeping your eyes on your baby, you roll your eyes, but nod.

“Yes. They got the stinger out, and gave her a pink unicorn bandage. There’s a little bit of swelling, but it’s her left hand, so she can still hold a crayon.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being condescending or not,” not towards your daughter, but towards his priorities.

“And neither can I,” everything you said was the truth, and under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have cared for his concern. But here sits his son with seventeen stings, welts, swollen, wet coughs, and a snotty nose, and he’s worried about one sting. “His face turned purple again.”

“And how long did it take you to get to him?” Even though his words are calm, they cut deeply. Watching Suede now, you realize this evening could have ended very differently in a matter of seconds.

“It didn’t take long, but his airways had been sealed shut.”

“Seventeen goddamn times,” he says your name, and tears instantly flood your vision. “What the hell were you doing when our baby was stung that many times?”

“I was closer than you were.”

“Because it was your weekend. I would have never…”

“I didn’t know he was allergic to bees!” You shout, causing Suede to flinch. You take a deep breath, continuing the conversation softer, “Do you think I want my children to be stung? For them to feel any pain? Especially when it comes to their lives?” Suede whispers ‘Mama,’ standing up in the water, and he leans against you. “Do not put this on me, and act like it was my fault, I already feel guilty enough as it is.”

“You should!” Your eyes squeeze shut. Inhale. Exhale. You slowly open your eyes and look at Suede when you pick him up out of the tub without a towel. Holding him on your hip as you grab the towel next to Scott, and he grabs your wrist, “You’re being negligent since he came into your life.”

“Careful with your words, Scott. Because you purposefully let that woman bring a cat into my house, knowing our son was allergic,” you jerk your hand away from him, and bring the towel with you. Getting into the bedroom when you maneuver it around Suede’s body. “You do not get to put this on me. Just today your fiancé was telling us how Suede would like apples with walnuts on it.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” You shout. Actually raising your voice, and then pull the towel covered Suede closer against your body, while you snuggle him. “How is that different?”

“Because she didn’t actually do it! You’re the one that was stupid enough to take your eyes off our kids, probably to make out with Andy fucking Barber!”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Andy’s presence is enormous as he steps into the doorframe. Hands on his hips, and his voice so calm, and yet demanding. It’s easy to see why he is feared in the courtroom. How everyone knows he will be a judge one day. “You’re not coming into our home and talking like that in front of the kids.”

“Take a look at the deed, you prick,” Scott spins on his heels stopping in front of Andy, “There is no ‘our’ with you. There’s not even ‘our’ with me. There’s one person’s name on that deed, and it’s not hers. You want to know the reason why she’s still living here?”

“Because she’s got your children. You wouldn’t want her and the kids to be homeless now, would you?” Scott and Andy silently stare at one another. “I would have given her the house, too, Scott. It’s what good men do, right?”

“I’m still going for sole custody. This incident will be recorded. I’ve already gotten a copy of his ER discharge papers,” Andy’s eyes go ablaze with every disgusting word he says.

“No! Scott, don’t you dare! You don’t even want him. You let her bring a cat into his home! That was intentional,” you hold Suede even tighter, and Andy raises his hand slightly, keeping his eyes on your soon to be ex husband.

“Scott, you’re going to quit threatening my girlfriend.”

“My wife,” Scott gives him an evil smirk.

“That you cheated on,” Scott blinks quickly, looking away for a split second, “I should probably look at the prenup agreement, huh? You’re going to quit with your idle threats, you’re not going to push for sole custody. You’re going to carry on with the agreement that was settled in mediation, and when we find a house, you can have this place back since you’re the only one on the deed.”

“We’re still married. You know I can have something to say about you living here,” you wish he would. You wish that he would say something. Pig.

“You got as much to say as she does with Taylor living with you. For the past three months, if I recall. That is when her apartment lease was up, and it wasn’t renewed. Now, I’m guessing since she hasn’t signed anywhere else, and you added another person to your own rental agreement, that she officially lives with you. So let’s quit going tit for tat, Scott because I got you beat. Whatever happened in the past, is the past. Currently we’re all trying to make sure that kids are happy and healthy. Suede is happy, and despite an added allergy, he’s healthy. Audrey is happy, despite her drawing a courtroom for fun,” Andy will continue to bring this up because it disgusts him. She should be playing with Barbie dolls.

“This isn’t over,” Scott grunts before shoving past Andy’s shoulder. He stops to look towards the dining room before walking to the front door, leaving with a slam, and not a word to Audrey, and you gracefully fall to the floor. Clinging to and rocking Suede.

Exhausted.

Mentally exhausted.

Andy reaches on the bed, handing you Suede’s pajamas and cream. Sitting on the edge of the bed quietly as you put a diaper on him. Rubbing the cream into all of his stings. Slipping those pajamas on before lifting him up and holding him so tightly, and still he says nothing. He stares out into space.

“Suedey, you want to go get sissy so we can get everyone in bed?”

“Chess,” he runs off, and you spin to look at Andy. He’s the only reason you’re upright at this moment. He has been your strength.

“Would you tell me if I overstep my bounds?” You get to your knees, crawling in between his thighs before laying on his lap. Extending both arms around his waist, and just hug him. “This is too sweet, but you’re not answering.”

“Yes, babe, I’d tell you. You know you’re the only person that’s ever taken up for me,” Andy gives your back scritches. Sighing as his body relaxes. Going limp almost at your calming touch, “You didn’t have to go so hard on him with the house, but I loved it.”

“And he doesn’t have to kick you when you’re down. What are you two doing?” You don’t move, just smile at the kids being able to see you and Andy love each other. It takes two point five seconds before they run, and crash into your back. “Do not get all silly, it’s bedtime,” they’re happy. They’re happy despite the chaos and hurt of the day. Giggling and having fun. Seeing true love between the adults in the house. A family in every sense of the word.

“Since…since Suedey is sleeping in here, can I sleep in here, too?” Andy looks at you, and you look at him, and without saying a word, and barely either of your faces changing, you know the answer. You give her a nod and she runs, struggling to get into the bed.

Suede’s eyes already get heavy, his antihistamine kicking in. Audrey understood that her brother is going to sleep on your chest all night, while you hardly sleep. A paranoia of his breathing stopping, so you need to watch his body rise and fall with his oxygen intake.

“How about a movie?” Audrey asks, motoring her lips and blowing a raspberry. She’s extra cute when she thinks she’s being sly.

“One movie. Lights completely out,” you tell her, crawling into the bed with Audrey. “Andy?” It isn't hesitation in his eyes as much as it’s observing. Smiling as Audrey leans over on your stomach. Wiggling around to get comfortable, and then reaches for her brother’s hand. “You okay?”

His eyes are so glossy, and you want to hold him so tightly. He didn’t have a family growing up. Didn’t have a present mother, father was in prison, didn’t have siblings, and you knew how much he wanted moments like this. “I’m fine,” Andy opts to keep his shirt, and pajama bottoms on. You get it, but you do love his topless suggles.

“Is there room for me?” He asks lifting his edge of the bed’s covers up.

“Chess, Na Na! Hewe!”

“You hold mommy’s hand.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Andy leans over, giving you a quick peck to your temple, causing an uproar of sleepy laughter, and he weaves his fingers in yours. His other hand grabs the remote. “I say we watch Winnie the Pooh,” both kids nod, giggling again.

“Next time can Ann come to our slumber party?”

“Where is he going to sleep, baby?”

Audrey shrugs, sitting up in the bed to look on the floor, “There’s room for him to sleep down there,” you shush her. Already she was getting too excited about Ann visiting. Ransom would never sleep on the floor, but she didn’t have to know it. She settles back in between you and Andy, and you glimpse her edging a little closer to him. Finally, sticking her foot out, so she can touch him, too.

Touch is a way she shows her comfort. Before Suede was born, if she slept in the bed with you and Scott, she’d lay diagonally between the two of you. Hands on you, feet on him. It feels right. Like they’ve always belonged to him. To you and him.

Today has been exhausting, but this is the way you would want it to end. Suede’s rattling breathing on your chest, Audrey snuggled next to you, a hand holding Suede’s and a foot on Andy’s waist. She’s making sure she touches everyone. And the man that you know is without a doubt your soulmate. Your mate. Your best friend. And the man you are going to marry, once the divorce is over. But there’s a part of you that also believes you could maybe give him a child. It’s what he deserves.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, and he pulses his hand around yours.

“Get a couple hours of sleep. I’ll watch his breathing,” you thank him again, but you can’t sleep. Not like that. You're sure he’s fine, but a mother will forever worry. But tonight, the worry isn’t as bad because you have your entire world in one bed.

“Uhh!” Suede stops his playing in the middle of the floor. His eyes big and wide as he stares at you, and then at Andy. “Hewe!”

“I’ll get it!” Audrey runs towards the door with you close behind. Going as fast as her short little legs will carry her, and Suede is right behind. She slings the door open, gasping as she stares at the tall man, “Uncle Ann!”

“Uncle?” Ransom asks confused.

“Ann!”

“Ran, what are you doing here?” He brings his hands out from behind his back, shrugging as he holds out two gift bags, too expertly decorated, and you give him an odd look. “What are you doing?”

“One, two!” Audrey shouts. Jumping up and down, and getting the same reaction from Suede. “There’s two, that’s for me and Suedey!”

“It is. Can I come in?” You step aside, waiting for Ransom to enter before closing the door, “Where’s your less than desirable boyfriend?”

“I heard that,” Andy steps out of the kitchen, extending a hand to his colleague, and Ransom shakes his head no. “I was cleaning up after lunch,” Ransom grimaces, “Doe made lunch, I cleaned up. And then for dinner we’re ordering out.”

“Indian!”

“Chess!” as if in response Andy smiles wide, noticing the presents, and both kids chasing Ransom’s arms that keep lifting the bags up. You have kept both kids out of ‘school’ until Suede fully heals. Needing to see what his new allergies are before you let him out of your sight. Audrey wanted to stay with her brother, much to Scott’s chagrin.

“Me?” Suede asks, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Yes, one is for you.”

“Let’s clean up the living room, and take everything back to the playroom room first,” the kids groan, but head into the living room, “Keep him here, until we’re done. It’s a mess,” Andy watches the three of you leave with the biggest smile on his face.

“So you made this thing social media official. Profile pictures changed to a family photo. I’m sure Scotty is going to love that,” Andy rolls his eyes playfully, starting to walk away, and Ransom chuckles. “Cute fingernail polish.”

“Audrey got bored during Suede and Doe’s nap. I’m taking it off before tomorrow. What’s in the bag?” Ransom shrugs with a smile walking down the hall before stopping. “Thought you were going to be cocky, but didn’t know where you were going.”

“Listen, I don’t get sappy, and I’m not going to start right now, but you suit this life. Maybe not in this dump of a house, but with her, the kids, maybe more kids,” his eyebrows raise and fall a few times, and Andy gets the biggest grin, “You’re already trying aren’t you? Before the divorce is finalized, that’s risky.”

“I know. I know. Her doctor and Scott really did a number to her self esteem with another pregnancy. But I am hopeful, and I enjoy the practice,” he turns around quickly, causing Suede to flinch before he giggles, screaming back down the hallway and into the living room, “I think he’s telling us they’ve cleaned, and he wants to see what the present is. And if it’s expensive, she’s going to complain.”

“Then I suppose I’ll hear her complain,” gesturing down the hall, Ransom lets Andy lead him into the living room where Suede and Audrey sit cross legged in the floor. Practically buzzing with excitement, and trying not to make grabby hands. Looking at their mom and then at Ransom. “I don’t know why you’re waiting on me.”

That is all it takes for Audrey and Suede to reach for the bags, pulling out the perfectly stuffed tissue paper. Audrey squeals as she holds up an iPad box, and your head immediately jerks towards Ransom, and Suede giggles, pulling out his own. “Ransom!”

“What, they’re minis. And, they have their own data, so they can call you whenever they want.”

“I can call from upstairs?” You shake your head no, and Audrey pouts a bit. “Why not?”

“You can if it’s important, but these will be kept up at night. You’re not going to sit and play with them all day. You’ll have to earn time on it,” you never want your kids to be addicted to media.

“Can we take it to daddy’s and I can call you there?” You glance towards Ransom who gives you a warm smile, nodding. “And we won’t even have to ask to FaceTime you!”

“Chess!” Suede takes his box over to Andy, crawling in his lap, and he gives it a tap. “Pease, Na Na.”

“Doe, I think they earned this. And it would be a nice opportunity for the future,” there is so much more to these than either of the men are making it. It’ll be an issue with their father. But to have the ability to call them whenever they’re at Scott’s would be a huge relief. You can only answer with a nod, motioning Audrey to let you help her open the box. Whispering a thank you to Ransom.

Relief warms your body. It could be just for the moment, Scott may not let them use the iPads, but right now, you have an ease when you didn’t realize it was something that bothered you. Now that Suede has at least one more allergy to deal with, you just know nobody watches him quite like you do. Even his father. Even Andy. And that’s something you have to deal with in your own time.

Andy nods his goodbye to the judge, collecting all his things, and tries to keep his eyes on his task. It was a trial with Scott. Andy had thankfully remained calm and collected, while Scott was losing grip on the trial. Taking things far too personally. The Neanderthal part of Andy wants to lash out at Scott, wants to tell him to grow up. The little man with a big issue.

Halfway through the trial, and a warning from the judge, Andy realized that Scott never thought you would move on. Thought that you would be there waiting on him for when he and Taylor inevitably split up. A man that wants to belittle a woman, just so he can weasel himself back in, but he didn’t know you. Cheating was always your ‘I’m done and never going back’ moment. And why anyone would want to cheat on you, the perfect woman, is beyond him.

He grabs up his briefcase, heading towards the door, and finally free from him and today. He is almost gone, “At least I got her best years,” Andy stops immediately. Contemplating how he wants to deal with this. How he wants to address Scott’s demeaning comment. During his thought process Scott walks past Andy, brushing roughly against his shoulder.

“Is there a problem?” Scott spins around, shaking his head no. Thankfully the courtroom has cleared out, but Andy is so tired of these mind games. The threats. The disgusting behavior. The low blowing comments. He’s hitting a peak that he knows he’s going to have to address. “Honestly, what’s your deal?”

“Nothing,” he acts as if to move, and then stops, “You really don’t need her drama. You’re a good looking man, and have younger women vying for your attention. You could have a woman without baggage, and one who can still give you a child,” Andy’s teeth clench just as hard as his fists. “Think about it. Your own children with your last name. And besides, you know, everything is tighter.”

“You’re a pig, and that is the least of the things I can say. You called your own children baggage, and the only drama in her life is you. You want to say you got the best years, and you didn’t. I got all her firsts, and I’m going to have all her lasts, and you’re going to be a sad pathetic lonely man. Do you get that? Clearly you do, and that’s why you’re so bitter. You were a placeholder in her life, one that gave her the two best things you could, and you don’t even realize it. You had it all. Everything, and you threw it away for a woman that’s barely a woman, and when she’s bored, she will leave you. And if I ever hear you say another thing about my future wife…”

“What?” Scott interrupts, and Andy smiles, resuming his walking. Let Scott ponder the things that Andy could do if he wanted to. Let him sit and think about all the things Andy could do to ruin him, while he gets to go home to you. He isn’t waiting, a new house will need to be found. Scott is pushing too many boundaries, and being shameless about it. Tonight, he just wants you to feel all the ways that he is better, and the ways you are better with him. How perfect you truly are.

Andy watches you from the bed. His book laying on his stomach, and his eyes flit over your entire body. For one, he just loves to look at you. He loves seeing how even though you and your body have changed, you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. You’re immaculate. Perfect. He just hates he missed so many years of getting to absorb you.

Another reason he watches, you seem tense. There’s an off-ness about you this evening that he can’t put his fingers on. Coupled with the words from Scott earlier today, it bothers him. You peer at yourself longer in the mirror than you normally do. You turn your body to the side, your eyes looking up and down your body. Do you not see what he sees? Do you not realize how amazing he finds your body? How every bit of the added curves are something that he wants to kiss.

You look into the mirror, and it’s like your face falls. You don’t see you like he sees you. You don’t understand the goddess that he gets to be in the presence of every day. Every fucking day he gets to be in your orbit, and he’s thankful, but you’re looking at yourself like you hate what you see. Even as a teenager you didn’t have this much self esteem issues, and he wonders what Scott has ever said to you to make you doubt your beauty, despite your flaws.

You turn to look at him, and quickly your vision falls to the vanity in front of you, twiddling your fingers on your gown. Andy places a bookmark in his book, laying it down on the nightstand before walking into the bathroom with you. Standing behind you, while his hands trace down the sides of your body. Circling his arms around your front before he pulls you into him.

His nose inhales your newly bathed scent. Slowly making his way higher before nipping at your jaw. “Doe, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, and one hand moves to your breasts, the other trailing further south. “Andy,” his brow furrows as he looks at your reflection. That sounds like a plea for him to stop. “Why are you with me?”

Sighing, he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands stop, but they don’t leave their spots. Andy only looks at your reflection, “Because I love you.”

“Why?” If he could get away with it, he might kill Scott. You are a woman that is now going to question his motives because of Scott. He knows that Scott choosing Taylor hurt more than your ego, but these feelings are deeper, coming from a place of Scott words.

“You’re my best friend. You are the strongest woman I know. You make me laugh, smile, get excited to come here, and one day I’ll be going home to our family. I love seeing you be a mother, and how fiercely you love your kids,” your waterline fills with tears. No one has ever told you they love how you are a mother. It was just something that was expected of you. But hearing it from him is nearly painful. A pain that reverberates through your body because you believe him, and his words are strong. It’s a love that is so powerful it stings and overwhelms.

“You’re a damn good cook. And I love watching you in this element. I love watching you move on top of me in the mornings. Your whispered moans as you use me. I love watching you sleep. You don’t have to be doing anything, and still I love it.”

“That sounds so creepy,” you manage to huff out a laugh, and wipe away stray tears.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, but your beauty is more than your looks,” his words turn into moans as he kisses your body. Slowly taking your nightgown off you, and your hands immediately cover your stomach in shame. Everything in here with all the lights and the mirror is intimidating.

Andy sinks to his knees as he descends further down. Leaning around your body as he kisses on your arms, using his hands to pull your arms off your body, and he ghosts his lips over your belly. Saying your name like a sweet prayer with every tender touch of his lips.

“I will spend everyday worshiping you, and reminding you how perfect you are for me as long as you do the same. I will lift you up from the depths of whatever pit that Scott left you in because I need you. I love you. And I will give us a baby,” waterfalls of tears pour down your cheeks and still his lips linger. Going lower, and lower before kissing your covered core.

“I’m not giving up on you, on us, on expanding our family because Audrey and Suede are part of my family. I get all of you. Every bit of it, and I’ve always wanted it. I’ll take you in any shape or form because it’s you I want. I want to grow old with you. I want to sit on our porch in rockers, and watch our grandchildren play. You are what I’ve always wanted,” you whimper as he licks a strip up the gusset of your panties. Hooking his fingers in the elastic before pulling them slowly down your body.

He smiles at your exposed core. Desperately moaning at the sight of you even though you don’t have a thigh gap or you’re thicker than when you first were together. Despite your older age, he still stares at you like you’re a work of art. His look has never changed. His tongue roams through your split, and you spread your legs further apart. Stepping back to give him more room, and he moves to your front, sitting on the floor, while he desperately eats your cunt.

Pulling you nearly over him, and his hands roam over your naked body. His hands working you over. Loving you wordlessly. Using his hands to show he wanted your body in this form, and any form you gave him. Scott tried so many times to ruin you. Mentioned how it wouldn’t be long before Andy wanders, too because you wanted too much. And there would never be a man that holds up to your standards. Except, here he is, sitting on the floor, feasting on you like a five star dinner.

“Watch yourself,” he pants, staring up at you, and you glance down confused. “I want you to see just how amazing you look when I make you come. When I taste you, and make you moan, watch,” his face buries back into your warmth, but he keeps his eyes on you. He kneads and tweaks your nipples, and you grind over his mouth. Trying to watch yourself despite the embarrassment until the pleasure becomes too much. Watching while you enjoy the way he makes you feel.

“Andy,” he pinches your nipples harder. Rolling them in his fingers, while you let out the most beautiful mewl. Too loud, so he stops. “Andrew Barber!”

Andy maneuvers himself out of the floor, and gets right in your face as his thick hand rubs off the slick on his beard. His hands grab the hemline of his shirt, and he pulls it off his body, and then pulls down his boxers. “You’re too loud, and will wake up the kids.”

“But it feels too good,” whining because why is he a god in a man’s body? Why is sex on legs? Able to make your pussy throb, and cry for him.

“Pouting is going to get you nowhere,” he steps behind you, pressing a hand in between your shoulder blades, and adds pressure. Leaning you forward before gathering your slick on the crown of his cock. “But I will fuck you, while I cover your mouth. I’m going to make you stare at yourself, while I pump you full of cum, and breed you like a bitch in heat,” your mouth falls open, and you start to say something but he lays a hand on your mouth, and in one thrust, his cock stretches you wide open.

Yipping when he slides all the way home, “You talk too much. Just enjoy the ride,” that hand on your mouth never moves, but he grips your hip tight as he crashes into you over and over again. “See how your eyes get all glossy and wide because I’m fucking you? How your body moves every time that I fill this cunt like no one else ever has. That’s because you were made for me. You are mine. All mine, and I will fuck you until you swell with me. Our other babies are going to fawn over you. They’re going to be so excited to see their mama happy and full.”

You preen. Your back bows, but you’re watching him. He’s so sexy when he’s slightly angry. When his only determination is giving you what you want, his baby. It’s all so much. Overwhelming. You feel everything, see everything, “Keep your eyes on you,” you try, but he’s too beautiful. “Doe! On you!”

He spears into with so much force that you see stars, and watch yourself. He’s so rough, and yet, your body takes him. Takes every thick, hard inch of him. You were meant for him. You were meant solely for him. To give him a family that he’s always wanted. The new tears in your eyes are something else entirely, they’re the realization that you were for Andy. Good enough for him. Enough for him! The perfect man you could ever imagine, you were enough. And it is addictive. You’ve always been addicted to him. Always longed for him.

You tug at his arm, and his hand moves to your neck. “I’m good enough,” you plead, trying to keep your voice quiet. “I’m good enough for you.”

“You’ve always been good enough,” this isn’t love making. This is fucking, and fucking hard. It’s claiming you. It’s possessive. It’s demanding. It’s what you need. “You’ve always been mine. And you will always be mine,” he grunts, and crashes his mouth into yours. Aggressive, and nearly cruel, and you love it. You love when this side of Andy comes out. When you are the only one that sees that darker side that lurks just below the surface. He saves himself losing his cool on you.

Something pissed him off today, and your pussy suffers in pleasure. Your body tightens. Keeling as you start to lose the ability to stand, letting his hands hold you up. He gives each nipple a hard squeeze, and you scream into his mouth. Swallowing every aggravated grunt. Losing the function to be human as pleasure soaks over you like a warm blanket.

Andy’s hands slap on your belly and in one hard, pounding, deep thrust he shoots his load into your belly, and you feel it expand to take every drop. Your walls flutter, milking every bit, while he pants into your mouth. Pulling off your lips, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I promise you, Doe, I will fuck a baby in you. And I will never stop trying. It will happen. And you can look that doctor in the eyes, and tell him that he was wrong. You’re mine, and I will see you pregnant. I will have every experience with you.”

“I believe you,” panting, he pulls his softening cock out of you, but a hand covers your mound. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping it in there, while I walk you to the bed. And then I’m going to watch myself, leak out of your hole, and I’m fingering it back in there. This is the one. You’ll see. This is it. This is our baby.”

“I hope so, but if it’s not, can you fuck me like that again?” Waddling back into the bedroom he pushes you onto the bed, and then he’s back in between your legs, covering your hole again. “Do you need a front row seat?”

“Yes,” you giggle, and Andy smiles, kissing a line from one side of your pelvis to the other. “It’s so sexy to know I’m in there. And I’m controlling it. And it’s sexy to see you push it out. It’s sexy to watch you swallow it after it’s been in you. It’s sexy to see me drying on your skin.”

You run your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him, “Andy, I want to see you watch me leak of you,” that mouth quirks up, and he moves his hand. Staring at you like this was a blockbuster movie, and you push it out. His breathing hitches as thick rivers of him spill out of you.

Instead of immediately pushing it back in, Andy gathers some on his finger. He lifts his hand, and starts writing across your pussy. My god, he looks like a teenage boy, smiling mischievously. His finger moving over you sweetly despite being covered in cum, “What are you spelling?”

“You can’t tell?”

“I felt an ‘A’.”

“Andy’s,” he chuckles again, before looking at your gaping hole. “This is the best thing. Your pussy is a mess,” and he slides the rest back in. Pumping his fingers into your wet heat a few times. “You slut. Are you getting off on this?”

“Mhmm. Make me come on your cum, daddy.”

“Such a slut,” he didn’t want this to last. He wants you to come, so he can make you clean him off. He pulls out all the stops. Curling his fingers, adding a third one, and you’re already lifting off the bed. Already leaking. So wet. Squelches echo into the bedroom, and it’s the best lullaby. “My personal slut.”

Your orgasm comes way too fast as the calluses of his fingers massage that special spot. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into you, and just before you moan too loudly, you cover your mouth, letting your body reach that perfect height when everything falls down. Clenching your eyes closed, and when you open them, Andy is hovering over you with messy fingers.

“Open up,” you obey, and he holds out his fingers for you to suck every bit of your essences off him. Moaning just as much as he is. “That’s the one, Doe. I just fucked a baby in you. I just know it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cocks up an eyebrow, and your eyes get so heavy, “Because this,” you lay both hands on your belly. So sleepy. “This is Andy’s.”

“Damn right it is. Go to sleep, little deer. I’ll clean everything up, and unlock the door, okay?” You smile, and nod. Letting beautiful dreams of unknown children, and your two oldest run around in a big backyard. What a dream. What a beautiful dream.

Next

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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

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[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 4)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns?

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Part. 3 Part.5

“I love you the first time, I love you the last time […] I love you forever, I love you forever.” - Lana Del Rey

“Vi?” Jinx says when the mist clears, and she realizes that, like everyone else, her sister has disappeared.

“Jinx…” I approach the younger girl.

“No,” she screams, pulling at her own hair. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Hey… it’s okay. Look at me!” I turn her face toward mine.

“Traitor!” she yells, pushing me. “You’re going to leave me… just like she did!”

“No, Jinx. I would never do that.”

“Yes, you would. I know you’ve always loved her, and now that she’s back, you’ll go crawling after her.”

“I love both of you,” I say calmly. “You’re everything to me…”

She grabs her hair again, shaking her head in denial. Then she stops and looks at me:

“[Name],”   she speaks softly, her eyes filling with tears. “Promise me… promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise. Of course I promise,”   I approach her and hug her. “I’ll fix everything, Jinx. I promise everything will be okay!”

Jinx trembles in my arms, murmuring and battling the voices in her head.

“They won’t stop,”   she whispers, her voice breaking.

“Don’t believe what they say. They’re only telling lies,”   I feel her tighten the hug.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Vi was alive.”

“You should’ve told me, but I understand why you didn’t. It’s okay now.”

“I just wanted to protect us,”   she pulls away slightly but still clings to my arms.

“I know…”   I brush her bangs away from her tear streaked face. “Let’s go home, okay?”

She nods, and we start walking toward the stairs to leave the building when I notice blood staining her pants.

“You’re bleeding.”

She scoffs.

“It was one of those dumb Firelights.”

“Let’s get you patched up,”   I put one of her arms around my shoulders to help her walk.

We enter Jinx’s room—or rather, the place she calls her room. I sit her down in front of the broken mirror and grab a box from the small table.

“Shut up, damn it!”   she yells.

I pull her pants up, revealing a small cut.

“I’ll clean it and put a bandage on, okay?”

She looks at me and nods, turning her gaze back to the mirror.

“She doesn’t care more about the enforcer than she does about us…”   she says, squirming.

I clean her wound with cotton and saline.

The enforcer… What was Vi doing with her?

I grab a cloth and wrap it around Jinx’s leg, securing it with tape.

“She came here for us,”   she shouts, pulling at her hair.

“Jinx,”   I hold her hands, making her loosen her grip. “I’m sure Vi has an explanation for being with that enforcer.”

“She better have,”   she says, irritated.

“Rest for a bit,”   I put the items back in the box and return it to its place.

“You’re going to go after her, aren’t you?”   she asks, annoyed.

“I have to go. I finally have a chance to have you both back.”

“I don’t like this idea,”   she gets up.

“I know, but I need to figure this out.”

“You’ll come back, won’t you?”   she looks at me with insecurity.

“Of course I will,”   I turn to face her, feeling my heart ache. In these moments, I could only see Powder. I sigh. “Do you want the medicine?”

Most nights, Jinx had trouble sleeping. So, Silco and I created a sleeping aid for her, but she only took it when she had gone many days without rest and really needed it.

“No. I want to be sure you’ll come back,”   she replies hesitantly.

“Alright. I promise I won’t take long,”   I place my hands on her thin shoulders. “Make sure to rest, okay?”

I arrive at the Firelights’ hideout and find Vi and Ekko standing in front of the mural.

“Powder is still in there. I know my sister,”   I hear her say as I approach.

“You don’t know her anymore,”   I say, startling them. “Jinx is still Powder, just like Powder was always Jinx. She was just hidden.”

They stare at me, surprised.

“It’s been hard years for everyone. It’s easy to judge her when you didn’t see Jinx emerging.”

“Powder would never do what Jinx does,”   Ekko retorts.

“Of course, she wouldn’t. She was a child who had people who loved and protected her.”

“I went through similar things and didn’t become a monster like her… like you.”

“Ekko,”   Vi whispers.

I feel tears stinging my eyes.

“That’s not fair. I did all of this not just for Powder but for you too.”

“Working for Silco didn’t help anyone,”   he says angrily.

Ekko never liked me working for Silco, and it was the subject of most of our arguments.

“It seems you forgot that much of this place”   I gesture around   “was only possible because of resources I stole from Silco. I do everything I can to keep him from finding this place.”

“So now you’re throwing that in my face?”

“No, Ekko. But I had no choice. There were two kids depending on me, damn it!”   I shout. “I needed some way to make money, to find a home for you, to protect you…”

“We could’ve managed without him,”   he says, starting to calm down, realizing what he had said.

“How? By me prostituting myself while you and Powder searched for food in the trash?”   they both look at me, shocked.

“No, [Name], I didn’t mean…”

“We’ve had this argument so many times. I’m not proud of what I do, but it was necessary to take care of you two, so I regret nothing.”

He swallows hard and steps closer.

“I’m sorry… I was a jerk again.”

“You know it’s hard to leave Silco now. Especially now that Vi’s back…”

“He’ll go after her,”   he concludes.

“Of course, he will. He knows what this means for everyone.”

“Then we need to prepare… join the Firelights. Fight with us! Let’s take Silco down…”

“It’s still too early; we need information from Silco, and Jinx wouldn’t agree to betray him. Let’s take it slow…”

“You’re right. You always are,”   he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry again. I spoke without thinking. You’ve been a crucial part of all this, and I’m eternally grateful to you.”

“It’s okay, little man. Sorry if it seemed like I was throwing it in your face. I don’t regret helping build all this,”   I hug him. “You’re my greatest pride, you know that?”

“Thank you,”   he whispers, returning the hug. After a moment, he looks at Vi, who watches us with wide eyes.

“Looks like you two have a lot to talk about,”   he steps back.

“Seems like it,”   Vi says.

“I’ll check on the enforcer,”   he leaves, leaving us alone.

“Let’s go somewhere more private…”

Entering the room, I lock the door and turn to the taller woman.

My heart was racing.

I dreamed of this every single day.

I just want to hug her.

So I did. I threw myself into her arms and felt hers wrap tightly around me.

I hadn’t felt this good in years. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Emotions exploded within me: happiness, confusion, hope, fear…

“I thought you were dead,” I feel the tears I’ve held back for years finally escaping.

“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through,” she squeezes me in her arms.

“It was so hard, Vi. I was so scared,” she nodded, and I felt her hand finding my hair, pulling me closer. I follow her lead and bury my face in her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “I should’ve been taken in your place. Then things wouldn’t be so messed up.”

“Don’t say that. You did what you thought was best. The important thing is that you’re all okay, and I’m here now. We’ll fix all of this, together.”

“It won’t be easy,” I sniff, taking in her scent. Still the same one I remembered.

“I know it won’t, but I’ll do anything for you three. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring back a bit of what we had before.”

“Thank you for coming back.”

“If I could’ve, I would’ve come back much sooner.”

We stay there for a while, just catching up and enjoying some time together. Until I gather the courage to ask:

“And the enforcer?”

“She’s the one who got me out of prison,” she steps back, looking at me. “She’s different from the others.”

“I doubt it.”

“Give her a chance. She could be a big help.”

“An enforcer, helping?”

“A deal with Piltover will be crucial, [Name]. She’s our way to that deal.”

Vi was right. A new deal would be extremely important for us, once we manage to take Silco down.

“You’re right, but first we need to take Silco down.”

She nods.

“So, are you working for him?”

“Yeah… I know it sounds crazy, but he took good care of both of us, Vi. Jinx got attached to him.”

“Well, I can’t blame her,” she says, lowering her head.

“We also need to be patient with her. Since the accident, she’s been having… depressive episodes. The trauma was too much.”

The tears she seemed to be holding back fall.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I never would’ve done it any differently. You two are all I have, and I’d die for you.”

“Don’t even think about that,” she presses our foreheads together, her beautiful blue eyes staring into mine. “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t lie,” I smile.

“I’m not,” she smiles back.

“Vi or 6?” I ask, looking at her tattoo.

“Vi.”

“It suits you,” her eyes shine. “You’ve changed a lot.”

“I hope for the better,” she jokes, and I nod.

“Seems like prison food wasn’t so bad,” I step back, eyeing her muscular figure, visible even under the jacket. I run my hand over her toned arm.

“I needed this to come back and take care of you,” she laughs egotistically.

I shake my head, laughing with her.

“Did you think about us while you were in prison?” I ask.

“Us?”

Damn it.

I feel my face heating up.

“Hey,” she lifts my face gently, forcing me to look at her. “I thought about all of you, but mostly about us.”

“I did too. I spent years thinking I’d never see you again. Thinking you were dead.”

She presses our foreheads together again.

“I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“I missed you so much,” I say, letting the tears escape once again.

“I missed you too. More than I can put into words,” she says, wiping my tears with her fingers. “We’re together now.”

I rest against her chest again, and for the first time in years, I feel like things might finally get better.

[navillee]

Zayne's subtle sub behavior pt. III

Let's bring some specific scenarios, shall we? What if Zayne is a secret sucker for your scent?

Back to the first appointment you had with Zayne after long years no see, even though he called out his own bluntness towards you out after you had left the doctor's chambers, there's another detail that kept taunting him other than his own behavior: your perfume. You see, Zayne isn't the type that has the best sense of smell, not when his nose got so habituated with the permanent smell of hand sanitizer, saline solution, and literally organs. He didn't even use a cologne, not after he watched a nauseous patient throwing up at Greyson's white coat in his internal days, at least. However, when you open the door, the vicious aroma filled up the entire chamber, imbuing Zayne's brain into an obsessed state that led him to act, as he would say, outside his own expectations.

As he headed home that day, all he could think was you. How you're even more beautiful then he could remember, how he could listen to your heart beat through the stethoscope – the reason because he became what he is now – his stupid nervousness that made it difficult to break the ice – quite literally – and that even more stupid cologne of yours. He wasn't able to focus properly for the rest of the day, and some voice at the back of his mind told him that the feeling would get worse when he got home.

One hour after diligent obsession, he made up an entire list with perfumes that presented in the description, the same aroma he felt emanating out of your skin. But it was nothing but innocent curiosity, it shouldn't cross any silly behavior out of him beyond that, right?

Two days after, before getting to the hospital, he saw himself at a perfumary. The excuse was that he needed to buy a cologne to himself, but ops! Why is Zayne standing on the feminine section, asking for the employee about some really specific perfumes? "Is that for your girlfriend?" His ears blushed, looking around while trying to find your scent, between every sample brought by the seller. "Just an old friend." He answers when he finally finds the one that matches exactly with the aroma that had him crazy two days prior.

He ended up buying it together with a masculine one that matches yours perfectly. At least, it was what the seller said so.

When he gets home that same day, he finds himself staring at the perfume bottle, unsure of what to do with that. He sprayed a little in his wrists, closing his eyes automatically as he inhaled the aroma. A long and heavy sigh left his throat, his muscles tensing up as he finds himself in such a pathetic situation as this one. What was in his mind now? He was acting like an obsessed perv!

Even though the perfume was objectively the same, something was missing. Even better putting: someone's missing. The scent of the perfume was good, he isn't denying that. But it wasn't divine as it felt on you.

Maybe your skin components bring out the scent differently from how it does on his wrist. Or even can be the fact that what droves him crazy two days prior was more to do with the concentration of your natural body sweat mixed with a small concentration of cologne.

Oh, poor doctor Zayne, even though he felt that sharp feeling of frustration on his guts, that didn't stop him from spraying your perfume on his bedsheets, letting him be enveloped by the closest he could get from your scent now.

He felt so relaxed that it didn't take long for him to fall asleep. So serene, damped in dreams about being closer to your, smelling that tempting aroma straight from the font.

When he woke up in the middle of the night, he couldn't feel more pathetic as he noticed how hard he was. That happened before, of course, when he was a teenager/young adult dealing with hormones. It was something mechanic that could be solved by taking a cold shower. But this time is substantially different. The images of the dream he had with you still cristal clear on his mind, and it would be such a waste not take advantage of them to solve his throbbing problem.

His closes his eyes again, guiding his hands inside his sweatpants, letting out a suffered sigh as he touched the sensitive skin of his hard cock.

It started just on the tip, but the movements migrated to fast, desperate ones in no time.

His leg muscles spreading them apart from each other and making his toes curl on top of his back arching was a clear indicator that he had never done that. Not outise the mechanical approach, where Zayne just was solving a biological reaction caused by muscle relaxation. No, that time he has you in his mind. To drunk on his own thoughts, gritting his teeth as the needy moans and raspy grunts insisted to scape, proving to himself how piteous the whole thing was.

He called your name until the entire time like it was some sort of pray. Begging you to bring your sweat, to finally make his bedsheets smell perfectly, just as you did with his on his hospital room that day. To make it divine, something only you can do.

Divine like in his dream, where you both fucked in his office, where he was reduced to his knees to adore you, like the servant he always knew he is. Where you praised and degraded him like he secretly desired you to.

"Oh...p-please! Have mercy on m-me~" Was the last coo he vocalized before relapsing all his dirty lust in ropes of thick warm cum all over himself.

His frenzy passed by, and after he cleaned himself and changed the bedsheets, he got back to sleep, ashamed by his own actions, hoping you somehow could be merciful enough to forgive his sin, after all, you're his goddess and he was just being your loyal devoted, right?