#am i going to have to get my tubes tied | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dfortrafalgar · 8 months ago

Text

Bring Your Daughter(s) To Work Day

Law x Fem Reader (kinda)

When the babysitter cancels last minute, Law is forced to bring his daughters to work with him, and deal with the emotions they unknowingly make him feel.

A/N: SURPRISE- BONUS CHAPTER FOR IMLY!!! this came to me suddenly and i hammered it out. this can be read as a standalone, but i wrote it with the intention of it being directly connected to the universe of my long form fic "I'm Losing You"

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff here, folks. established relationship, third person POV, reader is only present in the beginning and end of the story, some suggestive language sprinkled throughout but nothing explicit

[IMLY Masterlist]

Law watched with dejected eyes as his wife dropped her head into her hands, a harsh groan leaving her lips. Under her breath, quiet enough so her kids couldn’t hear her profanity, she uttered, “Fuck.”

“Let me guess,” Law mumbled. “She canceled?”

“This is the last time we use this babysitter,” she growled, turning off her phone and flipping it upside down so the screen faced the table, ignoring whatever incoming messages might appear. “It’s going to be too late to find any sitters now, and their school doesn’t start for another week. It’s not like we can just drop them off somewhere or leave them here alone.” She picked up her gaze, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concern. “Law… I can’t miss this interview.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered back, reaching his hand across the kitchen table to stroke her clenched fist. “You’re not going to.”

“Do you have a plan, then?”

Law bit the inside of his cheek as he searched his mind for any feasible solution. One of the biggest interviews of his wife’s career was on the following day, ever since she cordially parted with her last job after having their twins. She spent the first year of their life physically recovering from the birth, as well as having her tubes tied to prevent any more reproductive issues, the couple happily deciding that they were fine with two children. The following toddler years were spent at home with Cora and Rose, his wife being assisted by Uncle Shachi, Uncle Penguin, and Auntie Ikkaku whenever they were free. On days where Law was out of work, he made sure his wife was completely hands-off, taking his daughters out so his wife could spend some much needed time alone or out with her own friends. The two had a comfortable balance, allowing for ample time spent with each other, their daughters, as well as valuing their personal lives. Law’s cardiothoracic surgeon salary was more than enough to afford comfortable living in their small house filled with two six-year-old girls and a dog, but he could tell his wife was desperate to get back to a working schedule again. There was never an issue with having more income, after all, and the doctor knew his wife was never one for the stay-at-home lifestyle for the long-term.

“I’ll bring them with me,” he stated suddenly. His face remained completely neutral.

“What?” she yelped, standing from her chair. “Law, you can’t. You’re a doctor.”

“I don’t have any operations tomorrow, and I’m only working 12 hours. I’ll bring them with me when I leave at 9, and you can pick them up after your interview,” he explained. “I have plenty of staff, and there’s a children’s room in the cardiac ward. They’ll have things to do and people to talk to.”

His wife frantically searched her husband’s face for any sign of indifference or reluctance to his own claim. Finding none, she slowly sank back into her chair. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely positive?”

“I am.”

“And you promise to not traumatize them?”

Law pursed his lips. The week prior, he found his girls in the backyard poking a dead, gutted rabbit with a stick. He didn’t think he had much to worry about. “I promise.”

Finally letting her shoulders relax, his wife slumped over and rested her forearms on the kitchen table, plopping her head against them and shielding her face from the world. A small chuckle exited Law’s lips as he stood and rounded the furniture, coming to rest behind his wife and placing his deft hands on her shoulders, massaging the knots out of her tired muscles. She visibly relaxed even more from his touch, almost as if she was melting from the motions of his hands.

“You always know exactly what to do to make me feel better,” she sighed, tossing a glance at her smirking husband from over her shoulder.

“Everything’s going to work out. You’ll do amazing at your interview, the girls will behave themselves at work, and we’ll all live happily ever after,” he hummed, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on the back of her head.

“Can you bring home ice cream tomorrow?” she asked, her voice finally regaining its light and airy demeanor as her sullen mood finally lifted.

“Of course.”

—

“Girls.”

Law’s stern golden eyes looked in the rear-view mirror, watching as Cora and Rose immediately snapped their attention to their father from the backseat. Rose clenched a book in her small hands, well above her age’s reading level, while Cora fiddled around with the broken arm of a Stealth Black action figure.

“Remember to be on your absolute best behavior today, alright?” he stated firmly. “I’ll be around to check on you both for most of the day, but when I’m not there, you need to be good for the nurses.”

“We know, daddy,” Cora chirped. “Mama told us you’d be coming home with ice cream if we were good.”

“I’ll be coming home with ice cream regardless,” he replied, a small smile growing on his lips. “But if you’re not good, you won’t be getting any. It’ll just be for Mommy and I.”

He laughed as his daughters screeched from the backseat, flabbergasted at the mere insinuation that they might not get a share of any delectable treats. Fondness welled in his heart as he listened to the twins bicker over their shared behavior. Through their short six years on Earth, they had already grown into strong, individualistic young ladies who were practically inseparable. Law cried on every single birthday. They had turned him into quite a softie.

His foot gently depressed the break of his car as he turned into the sprawling hospital’s parking garage, driving up the ramps to the third floor and slipping into a parking space reserved for staff. He diligently grabbed the large childcare bag from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder before proceeding to free Rose from her restrictive (but very safe) car seat, followed by Cora, who clambered to get out of the car and holler into the echoing abyss of the parking garage, giggling at the way her voice bounced off the concrete pillars and walls surrounding her. Rose held her hands over her ears, cringing at the sound.

“Get it out of your system now, baby, you can’t be yelling like that in the hospital,” Law uttered, grabbing each girl by the hand and slowly walking with them toward the hospital’s entrance connected to the parking garage by a small hallway and two elevator shafts.

Rose firmly gripped her father’s hand in her right, clutching her book in her left. Cora skipped along, tripping over her feet, and sang into the air. “Gather up all of the crew! It’s time to ship out Binks’ brew! Sea wind blows, to where? Who knows! The waves will be our guide!”

Rose mumbled, her small voice whiny and irritated. “Cora, you’ve been singing that all day.”

“I love that song!” the younger girl retorted, almost stepping on Law’s foot. “Uncle Luffy taught it to me.”

Law bit back a smirk, yet rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. Leave it to that boisterous man to introduce his daughters to the life of high-stakes maritime activity. He’d be lying if he said playing pirates with his girls wasn’t some of the most fun he’d had recently, however. It only took a bit of a negative turn when Cora, pretending to be the infamous Blackbeard, landed a punch against Law’s groin so harsh it made him double over. It wasn’t like she knew any better, but amidst his wife’s worried yet hysterical laughter, he wondered if that blow was enough to make him infertile.

He shrugged the thought into the back of his head, releasing Rose’s gentle hand to press the elevator button, leading his girls into the small space and watching in silence as the doors closed in front of them, carrying them down two levels to the cardiac ward.

“Daddy?” Rose asked, looking up at him. “What do you do all day?”

Law pondered briefly. “On days where I don’t have operations, I usually do rounds for patients.”

“What are rounds?” asked the curly-haired girl.

“I go from room-to-room and assess each person’s health and how they’re doing,” he explained.

“Can we join you?” Cora suddenly asked, staring up at her father with her own large, golden eyes.

“I’m afraid not, sweetpea.”

The younger twin pouted before suddenly growing frazzled out of nowhere. “I LEFT MY ACTION FIGURE IN THE CAR!!!”

Rose quickly covered her ears again at her sister’s shrill scream.

“We’ll get it later, baby,” Law tried to console. He nervously glanced at the LCD screen above the button panel, about to reach the first floor. “I can get it for you on my lunch break. Can you wait until then?”

Cora’s face was growing flushed as she puffed out her cheeks, her eyes welling with heavy crocodile tears. “But I want him now! He’s going to die in the car!”

Law rubbed a hand over her hair. “He won’t die.”

“He will!”

“I’ll save him before he does,” he said back. “Shhh, keep your voice down, baby.”

Rose removed her hands from her ears with an audible, relieved sigh. Cora was appeased… for now. She’d have to deal with profound, inescapable boredom until noon, or at least until her mom came to pick the two up and save them from the children’s room at the hospital.

All things considered, the girls were fantastically behaved. They watched on quietly as Law scanned his badge to enter the high-security corridors leading to the cardiothoracic ward, nodding a wordless hello to the various nurses and doctors who passed by, each offering fond, excited smiles to the young girls. The long, winding hallways of the hospital were ginormous in comparison to the twins, who were used to the much smaller hallways of their kindergarten building, but they kept their hands in their father’s as he led them to his ward.

“Can you remember what I said in the car?” the surgeon asked, scanning his badge over one last electronic box on the wall, the click of the door’s lock signaling its opening.

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Rose obediently replied, more excited to be able to get back to her reading in peace.

“We promise,” Cora added. She opened her small mouth one more time, as if to add a second thought, but quickly shut her jaw and stared straight ahead. Law cocked an eyebrow at the display, but didn’t question it further. If the little girl had an issue, she would immediately let him know.

There was a children’s room, which was really just a small space situated behind one of the nurses stations, used primarily for families with very small children. When a person would be admitted to the cardiac ward, any potential juvenile visitors were welcome to use the children’s area to remove them from the otherwise clinical, scary environment of the hospital. The entire space was stocked with coloring books, light reading for ages 4-10, building blocks, and other miscellaneous playthings, all thoroughly sanitized before and after each visit.

When Law rounded the corner into the doorway of the children’s area, Rebecca was crouched down on the floor, diligently wiping down a set of large plastic building blocks with a sanitizing wipe. Her large, brown eyes glimmered as she saw Cora and Rose, having not seen them in quite some time. It wasn’t like Law brought them to work often.

“There are the guests of honor!” sang the pink-haired woman, discarding the wipe into a nearby trash receptacle and hurrying toward her superior and his two excited daughters. The girls pulled away from their dad and hugged Rebecca’s legs, instantly remembering the warm smile and bright laughter of the nurse who happily knelt to their level and pulled them to her chest. “It’s so wonderful to see you two again!”

“Let me know if they give you any trouble, Rebecca,” Law sighed, smiling at the sight albeit scrunching his eyebrows at the potential his children had for causing petty issues. They were their mother’s daughters, after all. Their well-behaved exterior made room for some very sinister six-year-old schemes.

“How could these sweet angels cause any trouble at all?” Rebecca giggled, ruffling Rose’s head of thick, curly black hair. “I will, though, sir. No problem at all.”

“I’ll be back in about two hours for my short break. Cora, Rose…” the surgeon called their names, alerting their attention once more.

The silence in the room was palpable as Law brought two of his fingers to his eyes, gesturing his hand toward their faces as if giving a silent threat that he had his eye on them, even if not in the same room. He had a playful smirk on his face as he did so, leading Cora to stick her tongue out at her dad. Rose gave her sister a light shove, harshly whispering about the ice cream reward still looming over their heads.

—

Two hours and far too many patient rounds finally came and went before Law was able to take a short break, proceeding to the children’s room with his ample amount of paperwork in an accordion binder held in his arms. He’d be able to get some time to work on it while sitting on the floor at the squatted table while he gave his nurse a much needed reprieve from his daughters. While marching through the long hallways of the cardiac ward, the surgeon pulled out his phone and smiled at the text that had come in from his wife, about 30 minutes prior.

Mama What do you think of this fit??? I mean, im going with it, but do i look hot and professional?

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama Right answers only. Also, are the girls behaving alright???

His wife did indeed look stunning. Her curves fit elegantly into a sharp, black pencil skirt that flared slightly below her knees. Sheer tights complimented her supple skin, and sophisticated yet casual wedge heels boosted her height by a good inch or so. She was posing in the mirror of their bedroom, one hip jutted out propping up her free hand that she graced over her waist. A trendy blouse was tucked into the skirt, the top few buttons still undone. Grinning down at his phone and holding his folder tighter against his abdomen, he fumbled to type out a response while walking.

You know you look stunning, baby. Absolutely gorgeous. You’re going to do up those top buttons, though, right?

He watched the incoming message bubble appear and disappear a few times before her response came in.

Mama Duh, i was just hoping that showing off some cleavage would give me extra points with you <3

Law fought to bite down the chuckle that rose in his throat, not wanting to attract attention. As long as I get to undo those buttons later. He was feeling bold today.

Mama Ice cream first, sex later. Love you baby <333

Law quickly shoved his phone into his pocket after thumbing out a quick good luck message for her upcoming interview, which she was surely traveling to at that very moment. He pushed open the door to the children’s room, quickly pushing back any inappropriate thoughts of his beautiful wife and smiling at the sight of his daughters.

Cora was in the middle of utilizing every single building block the room had to build a convoluted structure that took a plethora of odd shapes. She was being assisted by another young girl who’s curious violet eyes watched inquisitively at each new block added to the structure. Rose was in the adult-sized chair across the room, her nose buried in a new book. Judging by her original book on the floor by the legs of the chair, she had finished that one after only two days. A new literary record. Rebecca was absent from the room, most likely having left to continue her own duties, but judging by the faint smell of light cleaning alcohol in the room, she hadn’t been gone long.

With a smile, Law sat on the floor across from his daughter’s, and the new girl’s, strange structure. “What are you building?”

“A submarine. Can’t you tell?” Cora replied, placing a pink-colored block on top of an ominously leaning stack.

The new girl, who’s hair was a deep shade of purple, stared at Law with huge, curious eyes before a cheeky grin broke out on her face. “Are you the doctor taking care of my papa?” she asked.

Law grinned. “Could be. Who’s your papa?”

“Tenguyama Hitetsu,” she confirmed cheerily. “Well, he’s not actually my papa, but he also is.”

A lightbulb clicked on in his head. He had just been in Mr. Tanguyama’s room, and had no idea that the elderly man had any child under his care. It was then he remembered that the man had described a young girl as his ‘student’ rather than ‘daughter,’ but he still spoke about her with such fond language. Kurozumi Tama.

“Tama’s been helping me build,” blurted Cora, bringing herself to her feet to place another block on the tower attached to what was supposed to be a submarine.

“You two make a good team,” Law replied fondly as he turned his attention to his oldest daughter. “Rose, what are you reading?”

Her new book was substantially thicker than the one she brought with her. There were no pictures on the cover. She tilted the object down only slightly to speak with her father. “Rebecca brought it for me when I asked. It’s a book about common heart conditions in adults.”

Somehow, Law was not surprised. He didn’t even question it, watching as the black-haired girl turned her attention back to her book, disregarding any potential response from her father. Without another word, and without wanting to distract the kids from their intense focus, he scooted across the floor to the squatted table and opened his accordion folder, flipping through his paperwork to pass his two hour break, counting his blessings that he had such easy, albeit… strange, children.

He couldn’t stay focused long enough to begin filling out his patient charts, however. Especially not when he was swarmed with thoughts about his family. As he picked his gaze up and glanced across the room at his daughters immersed in their own little worlds, happy as clams in their special ways, he couldn’t fight the swelling in his heart. His wife, after worlds of difficulty, had given him two of the greatest gifts of his life. Those gifts were now six years old, about to start first grade, reading above their level, building and drawing, holding conversations, and were filled with boundless love. They hadn’t yet reached the age where they were embarrassed to hold hands with their dad in public, and they were still too young to fully understand the world around them, but it was clear as day to the surgeon that his little girls were bound to learn the tough realities of their lives sooner rather than later. It made his chest pang thinking of how quickly they had grown up. It felt like just yesterday that Law was by his wife’s side in the delivery room, finally holding his babies after they were allowed to leave the NICU, happy, healthy, and already beginning to babble and whine for their next feeding. He remembered looking at his wife, the woman of his dreams, who had gone through far more than any human should in bringing these girls into the world, kissing her lips and thanking her, thanking whatever deity was in the heavens that she was still alive and well.

“Daddy?”

Rose’s voice broke Law from his trance, his sharp golden eyes darting up to meet hers. The book was folded in her lap, her hands tracing the embossed letters on the hard cover.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice small and concerned.

A lump developed at the base of Law’s throat. His girls looked so much like his wife. He forced the rock down his esophagus and smiled at his little girl.

“I’m just fine, sweetpea.”

—

Law had needed to stay for an extra hour and a half after his shift was supposed to end, much to his distaste. After his close-call to an emotional outburst that afternoon, he wanted nothing more than to run home, embrace his wife in a hug, and cuddle with her on the couch with the ice cream that he had promised her. When he was finally able to slip into his car, the backseats empty (save for the Stealth Black action figure that was completely forgotten about by noon) with Cora and Rose having been picked up by their mom, he pulled out his phone to send his wife a text only to find that she had sent him one first.

Mama Look how tuckered out they are!!!

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama What did you do to them??? LOL

The image was immediately saved to Law’s camera app. Cora and Rose were curled up on the plush carpet in their living room on both sides of Bepo who was sprawled out on his back. Their little arms wrapped around the dog’s torso, their faces squished into his warm, white fur as they snoozed in one conjoined unit. He quickly tapped out a text that he was coming home, placing his phone in his bag and proceeding out of the parking garage as quickly as he could. With the only places still open at that hour being the gas station, he stopped at the nicest one in town and picked up three pints of ice cream, as well as a few extra treats to surprise the girls with when their new friend, Tama, came over for a playdate in a few days.

When Law finally entered his house, the only light still on was the lamp beside the couch. All the curtains were drawn, shrouding the living room in a pleasant, dim warmth. His wife was on the couch, laying back with her phone in her hand. She quickly stood up when Law entered, excitedly yet quietly closing the gap between them and capturing her husband’s lips in a tender kiss. He cheekily took the freezing bag containing the ice cream and pressed it against the thin cotton t-shirt she wore to bed, cooling her skin and making her suppress a surprised yelp. She giggled as she playfully batted Law’s chest.

“You tease!” she whispered. “I don’t wanna wake the girls.”

“With the way they were sleeping in that picture, I doubt we’ll wake them up,” he replied, his voice low as his lips stole another kiss, lingering a few moments longer. His heart fluttered at the feeling of his wife smiling into his gesture, her hands trailing over his chest, shoulders, and up into his fluffy black hair.

When she pulled away, he finally noticed the blouse she still wore, all the buttons done up. “Good, because you still have to take this off of me. I’m uncomfortable.” She snatched the bag out of his hands, procuring her own pint of ice cream. “After this, obviously.”

“Of course, of course.” Law followed her lead, grabbing his own treat after placing his other goods into the freezer and following his wife to the couch with two spoons in hand. Bepo was on his dog bed snoring up a storm, which he had been doing much more often in his older age.

“How did your interview go?” he finally asked, smiling as his wife snuggled into his size, using a blanket to grip her ice cream without freezing her hand.

“I think it went well, I was so nervous, though. I had to apply an extra layer of deodorant in the car because I was sweating so much,” she explained. “But the manager seemed pleased with my resume. And she knew Ms. Boa, so hopefully that means my recommendations will be worth it.”

Law held her close while opening his own ice cream. “I’m sure it will be. You’re a shoe in for that position.”

“You’re just saying that,” she mumbled, taking a spoonful of the frozen treat.

“You like when I say things,” Law replied with a smirk on his lips.

She sunk further into his chest, letting his warmth embrace her. Her mind swirled with images of the man, when they started dating, when he proposed, on their wedding night, in the hospital multiple times, holding his daughters… the woman blinked away fond tears and swallowed her emotions with another hefty spoonful of ice cream.

“What are you thinking about, gorgeous?” asked the man behind her, his voice gruff and tired from a long day in the hospital.

“Nothing…” she mumbled back, hiding her face in his neck. “Just how lucky I am to have you.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #im losing you

197 notes · View notes

ramblingautisticman · 3 months ago

Text

As it's kinktober, naturally, I have seen some things. It's inevitable. While I try to avoid reading the actual smut (I am way to asexual for that shit but to everyone who writes it, well done, your stronger than me), I see the titles and promts, and one made my lil autistic brain start churning- weirdly about Wade and the PTSD he would have from the torture. Also some fluff with Logan- you deserve it.

I don't think Wade would like being choked or choking? At all. It reminds him way too much of the oxygen deprivation tank he had to stay in. And it isn't even always in a sexual way- any time something is too tight over his mouth or too close to his neck- he freaks out and starts panicking because the idea of not being able to breath again is terrifying to him. He doesn't go swimming because he can't stand the idea of holding his breath. So when Dopinder suggest all of them go swimming for Laura's birthday (she has never been to a beach or swam before) he shuts the idea down so fast that everyone takes a second to just stare at him before continuing with other suggestions. He also refuses to ever choke anyone else. Whether it's in bed or killing- he knows that feeling so intimately that he doesn't want anyone else to feel that kind of pain or panic- even if they deserve it.

Wade is also extremely afraid of small spaces. He hates them. They remind him too much of the chamber. Logan tries to get him to go inbetween the couch and the wall to try to get the TV remote one time, only for Wade to shut down at the very idea, leaving a very confused Logan to do it himself before Wade snaps back to normal.

He hates belts and refuses to touch them because they feel like the restraints they used. Anything leather really- it feels too similar. It makes his wrists and ankles ache, and suddenly it feels like something is around his neck. So he avoids it at all costs. He doesn't touch Logan's leather jacket- avoids him whenever he is wearing it and never dares move it from where it's been thrown down- and when Logan mentions it he brushes it off. Tells him "Its so old that I'm afraid it will turn to dust if I touch it."

And Logan notices, obviously. He notices how Wade avoids touching leather, he notices how Wade freezes up at the idea of being in a tight space, he notices how Wade hates the idea of swimming. Expect, he doesn't know why. Wade has never shown any fear for water, so why does he not want to swim? He is fine sitting against Logan while he is wearing his leather jacket, but only if Wade is wearing a thick hoodie, so he doesn't like the texture maybe? The only thing he understands is the tight spaces. Some people are clostraphobic, he gets that. The other two though? They confuse him for ages. For awhile, anyway.

One day Wade breaks down- too many reminders and one bad nightmare later- Wade tells him about the cancer and the torture and everything in-between, and suddenly Logan gets it. He hates swimming because you need to hold your breath. It's why Wade likes baths over showers. More control. He hates leather because it reminds him of being tied down. That's why all his belts are fabric, even if they look like leather. That's why he avoids touching Logans jacket with his skin. He hates small spaces because he was practically killed again and again in a fucking tube. Who wouldn't be scared of small spaces after that?

So Logan takes the time to make sure he remembers these things. Trys to accommodate as best as he can. Never suggests something that might mean Wade needs to hold his breath or have something close to his neck. Gets a different jacket to wear, throwing the other one in the very back of the closet. Makes sure that if there is ever a small space they need to get too, Logan goes and does it without asking.

Wade only notices when he drops the TV remote down the back of the couch AGAIN, and Logan quickly grabs it and places it back in his hand, a worried look on his face.

#deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #logan #poolverine #wade wilson #wade winston wilson #wade x logan #cant stop thinking about it #the angst #i love them

119 notes · View notes

the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago

Text

Let’s Spend the Night Together

Chapter 3 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me

Greg House x Reader

Word count: 6.5k ??? what did I do

NSFW - smut

“Where does she live?” Greg asks James.

“If I tell you, am I assisting you in a crime?” James asks in response, barely looking up from his desk.

“I’m sure she told you about our date later.”

James huffs in frustration, finally looking up at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“Did you like her? Is that it?” Greg questions, trying to get to the bottom of his friend’s snarky behavior. Not that this wasn’t the usual from him. It was one of the things Greg loved about him, that he was always a little fed up with him, always preemptively aggravated, always in a state of annoyance. It was harder to piss someone off that was always a little pissed with him at baseline.

“Is that what you think? Because if that’s the reason you’re taking her out… you’re more fucked than I thought.”

“The correct answer would have been, ‘no, Greg, I do not want to sleep with her because I am married’ but we’ll go with that.”

James sighs, looking up at him. “Yes. She’s very attractive. But no, I had no intention of entertaining her.”

“Then what’s your issue?”

“Because I don’t know why you’re doing this. You sick of your prostitutes?”

Greg scoffs. “This isn’t about sex.”

“It’s not? I’m mistaken then, because you were flirting with her, made comments about her body, called her to your office…”

“Okay,” he corrects. “It’s not just about sex.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to date her without saying the words? Because if so… congratulations.”

“No. I want to figure her out.”

“Just look in her chart. Save both of you the trouble.”

“It’s no fun if I learn all the answers at once.”

“Do you ever wonder why you’re single?” James asks.

“Do you ever wonder why you’re unhappily married?” Greg counters. “And. About that. Either her psychiatry training gave her some leg-up here or you tipped her off. She went through her files already. All that she left was a med list.”

“You already looked?” James asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. No birth control. Wonder what that’s about? Propranolol. Maybe some blood pressure issue… she’s young for that and that’s not first line. Idiopathic tachycardia? Maybe. Anxiety?”

“She can’t have an interesting med list. Stop looking for zebras. She’s barely thirty.”

“No birth control and barely thirty? Either she’s not getting any or she’s tied her tubes already.”

“Or… if she does have a blood pressure issue she can’t be on it. Or she has an IUD. Actually… don’t drag me into this.”

“Lamotrigine. Seizures. Bipolar disorder. What’s more likely?”

“lamotrigine isn’t the first-line med for either. Maybe you’ll have to talk to her.”

Greg rolls his eyes. “No fun. Hey… she’s on Vicodin.”

“A match made in hell,” Wilson grumbles, running his hands over his face.

“Well. She was. Eight years ago.”

“Most people don’t stay on it indefinitely.”

“Why would she leave that on there? It’s just these three meds.”

“Don’t you have an actual patient?”

He shrugs. “I need her address. I’m picking her up in three hours.”

“At least buy her dinner. Do not just bring her to your apartment.”

“I can’t learn anything if I just have sex with her. I mean, I’ll definitely learn some things, but…”

“Well, I don’t have her address.”

“You’ve got to have her address. You hired her.”

“Nope. I’m not her direct supervisor since she’s a consult. You’d have to talk to the head of psychiatry or Cuddy. And no. I’m not losing my job searching for it.”

“She took it out of her medical records,” he says, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “I guess she likes to play.”

——————

“So let me get this straight. You want me to risk the safety of one of my employees so you can drive by her apartment?”

Greg looks at Cuddy for a moment, as if he’s actually thinking about her summary of his request and he nods. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

Sighing, she says, “I shouldn’t be shocked you live the rest of your life like you practice medicine, but I don’t care about the results here. The answer is no, House.”

“It’ll be worth your while.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because… if I get laid I’m in a better mood which means I’m less likely to cause you issues.”

“Right. Hm. Surprising, but that didn’t persuade me.”

“Have you met her?”

“Is that supposed to convince me?” she asks, looking up at him for a second.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. She does work in psychiatry. For someone who constantly loves to tell me I have a drug problem and there’s something wrong with me I’d think you’d want to make sure this relationship runs smoothly.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “I feel like you and I both know you’re not doing this for the emotional healing.”

“I won’t be doing anything if no one gives me her address,” he grumbles. He doesn’t tell her but for once he can’t believe how stupid he was that he fell for that, that he thought you might be interested.

“Hm. Well. I’m busy, House.”

He walks out without a word, heading back to his office. It’s 7:00.

Well. Alone again. Not much different than the last night or the night before that.

And he knows he could have Cameron. She’s been not so subtle in trying to get his attention, and yes, he certainly didn’t help matters by telling her she’s beautiful. Sure. But she isn’t… she’s not what he wants. He doesn’t need someone to take him on like a charity case.

You… you were fucking with him. And it’s fair, maybe he even deserves it. Maybe you got off on this, being a Walmart version of a femme-fatale, wounding men’s egos, seeing which ones would chase you and which ones would give up after a little pain.

Doesn’t really ease the sting of the ache of rejection, though. That you’d brush him off that easy, leave him without an avenue to reach you.

Sighing, he turns on the TV, trying and failing to focus on the screen, but you’d taken over his mind like a case he was on the brink of solving and just couldn’t get there.

8:15. He gets a page from your number. “YOURE LATE”. It reads.

Well. Screw that. He still had a way to reach you after all.

Possibly.

Smiling to himself, he calls down to the psych ward, asking for you. You’re not there, they say, but they’ll be happy to transfer him to your extension if you’re still in the building.

“I thought hookers took pride in their punctuality,” you say when you answer the phone.

“You’re kind of a bitch, huh?” He asks, trying not to let his chuckle be so audible in the receiver.

“You keep Wilson around. You love bitches.”

“Funny. Would’ve thought you’d been swooning, begging him to leave his wife by now.”

“I’m not so easily charmed.”

“Those big brown eyes don’t do it for you?”

“Sounds like they do it for you. Something you want to tell me, Gregory?”

“Don’t ever call me that,” he sighs.

“Not going to deny the gay allegations but you’ll draw the line at me calling you by your first name? What gives, House?”

“You can call me Greg.”

“Wow, could I? What an honor that we’re on first name basis.”

“Not many get the privilege.”

“Still haven’t denied the gay allegation.”

“Don’t really see the point. You’ll believe what you believe regardless.”

“Wow. Truly. A disaster of a man in all other regards but you’re comfortable in your sexuality? Greg is 1 for 0.”

“I have one male best friend and I’ve been single for five years. I embrace the gay jokes at this point.”

“Five years?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while for you too, huh?”

“What makes you so sure?”

“No reason,” he lies.

“Right.”

“You’re single now.”

“Moved here less than a year ago. Haven’t really had the chance to meet people.”

“Okay. What hellhole did you crawl out of to willingly move to Jersey?”

“Maybe I just like Frank Sinatra.”

“He’s dead. You didn’t come here for something. You left something and you came here to make sure whatever it was didn’t follow you.”

“Is this really the date you had in mind?” you ask.

“Nice deflection.”

“I just moved. No story there.”

“Also. Almost a year? And no one’s asked you out?”

“I can say no, you know.”

“You didn’t say no to me.”

“Maybe I should’ve.”

“Cold. Come down here. I’ll walk you out to my car.”

————-

“Ah. The bitch arrives,” he says, looking you up and down again, not hiding his checking you out. You’d changed, red blouse with a leather jacket and most likely the same black slacks you were wearing earlier. “Not quite slutty enough.”

“Could say the same for you. Where’s the assless chaps?”

“I could never pull that off,” he says. “You could, though.”

He’d changed, too, a button down with slacks for once instead of jeans... at Wilson’s nagging of course.

“Here,” he says, handing you a bouquet of flowers he thought for a second were going to wilt away at his desk.

“Flowers? don’t tell me you went all out. Maybe you’re not as much of a disaster as I thought.”

“I shouldn’t give them to you since you stood me, a cripple, up.”

“Stood you up? You didn’t come get me.”

“You never told me where to get you. Ergo… you stood me up.”

“You were supposed to figure it out.”

“Yeah. Right. Wilson didn’t know and Cuddy wouldn’t put out. And you knew I wouldn’t figure it out. That’s why you stayed here.”

“You actually asked Cuddy?”

“What? I’ve asked her for much worse.”

You shake your head, smiling. “Falling head over heels for me already, Greg?”

“Puzzles are no fun if you can’t figure out the answer.” He doesn’t say that the unsolved cases haunt him, nag him and he sees them where they’re not.

One day he knows you’ll haunt him, too. One day, when you leave, when he pushes this until it breaks.

“Mm. Try harder then,” you say.

“You gave me an unsolvable puzzle.”

“Mm. Not really. You gave it to yourself. You said you were picking me up at my place. I stayed here and gave you the easy way out.”

“You could’ve left it—“ he cuts himself off, lest he incriminate himself.

“Left it where, Greg?” you ask, bemused.

“Nowhere.”

“Right,” you laugh. “So what opiate do you pop constantly?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“Funny.”

“Why would that be funny, Greg?”

“Let me sleep with you first.”

“Absolutely not,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, I shouldn’t have thought you’d be easy if you’ve put me through hell just to take you out,” he sighs.

“Don’t think I’ll leave you completely wanting, though,” you say, reaching out to touch his face, his stubble scratching your hand pleasantly, a shiver running down your spine. You run your thumb over his bottom lip gently.

Tentatively, he reaches out for you, too, copying your movements, hand on your cheek, thumb over your lips, but then your tongue darts out to run over the pad of his thumb and he thinks he might die right there. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles, smirking.

“Mm. You’re pretty, Greg,” you say, with enough sincerity he almost believes you’re not bullshitting him.

“Pretty? That’s a first.”

“Like no one’s ever told you.”

“Maybe ten years ago.”

“Mm. It’s those eyes,” you say, stepping a little closer to him, letting your breath mingle with his, snaking your hand around the back of his neck. Your lips almost touch, once, twice, wordlessly. “You gonna kiss me or not, Greg?”

You expect him to be rougher but he’s soft, testing the waters, lips still barely touching yours until he gives in, gives you what you want, kisses you like he means it. God, it’s been too long, and you missed it, the thrill of kissing somebody new, and you can feel his anticipation, electricity from your skin to his.

“Come on,” he says, breaking away from you after a few minutes. “I said I’d take you to dinner.”

———

“So what is it? Percs?” you ask once you’ve been seated and get waters. It’s a nice place he chose, somewhere a little out of the way, mostly serving Italian fare and seafood. It’s where men who haven’t been on a date in a while would choose to bring a woman, you figure.

“Percs? You do some time on the street?” he asks.

“So what if I did?” you counter.

He shakes his head. “Not your story. I’m not buying that.”

“Fine. Used to work at an addiction treatment facility when I was a nurse. Everyone calls them percs, though. Not exactly some down low street name.”

“It’s Vicodin.”

“Nasty drug,” you say.

“Really? I think they’re yummy.”

“You would.”

“What’s your personal aversion to them? They take you on a bad date?”

“Got them prescribed after a motorcycle accident. Didn’t agree with me.”

“Hm. You driving?”

“No.”

“What’d you break?”

“My leg.”

“Which one?”

“Right femur.”

Wilson was going to have a field day. Match made in hell, alright. Wilson’s personal hell, that is.

“Femurs are hard to break.”

“When your partner is drunk and doesn’t care about anything it’s not that hard,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Lucky I didn’t die. I mean, not that I cared so much then.”

“Partner? What were you, 19?”

“22,” you say, silently cursing yourself for not just saying boyfriend.

“Did they not make it?”

You look at him questioningly but don’t say anything about his use of the gender neutral. You don’t want to have that conversation tonight. “No. Life support for a couple weeks until they pulled it.”

“Hm. So that wasn’t the reason you left.”

“No. There was no reason. I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Right,” he says. “Jersey isn’t usually the place people pick for a change of scenery.”

“How’d you end up here, then?”

“There was a job opening,” he answers.

“You were running away from something, too.”

“No, I was running to something. I needed a place to hire me and Cuddy was the only one insane enough to take me on at that point.”

“You’ve always been discourteous and unprofessional?”

“Those are my middle names,” he snarks.

There’s a natural break in the conversation as the waiter comes back to take orders. Greg takes notice of what you order, a baked scrod, certainly not the least expensive thing you could have ordered but not the most, either. It’s an assessment of how you value yourself, he thinks. Average. Average is boring.

Or you could just like scrod, he supposes.

“Why are you single?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Life was busy. Didn’t have time for relationships,” you say, shrugging. “Why are you?”

“Myriad of reasons.”

“Give me one.”

“My leg,” he responds indignantly.

“What happened to it?” you ask.”

“That’s a second date conversation.”

"You're in pain."

"How'd you know?" He asks sarcastically.

"Was it the cane? The Vicodin?"

'I think it was your charming personality.

Anyway. If you're going to cite your leg as a reason you're single, I'd love to know why."

"I was with someone when it happened. It's a long story."

"We've got nothing but time,” you say.

"You really won't sleep with me if I don't tell you?" House asks.

"Nope. Keep pushing me and I never will.

Tell me."

House sighs dramatically. "I had an infarction in my thigh muscle. No one knew what it was, I diagnosed it, but... so much of the muscle was dead already. I didn't want an amputation, I wanted a bypass. I didn't care about the pain. I just wanted to be able to use my leg. I asked them to put me under sedation to cope with the pain at the time... and the woman I was with decided it would be a good idea to remove the dead muscle completely."

"You made her your medical proxy?”

"Mm. Stupid decision on my part,” he says.

"Any medical background?"

"Nope."

"Then yes. Stupid decision,” you agree.

"I'm sure you've made plenty of stupid decisions. Getting on that motorcycle, for one,” he says, adding a jab at the end so to help heal his wounded ego a little.

"We all make mistakes. It's human. So... what's the reason now? You resent people who can walk without pain so you don't get close to anybody? It interferes with sex? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it long term?"

House sighs and rolls his eyes. "Do you really think it interferes with sex? Is that what you're worried about?"

"No. I'm asking if that's what you-"

"No. You see me as a potential sexual partner, correct?"

"I never said that."

"We're going with it. You ask me as if you're posing the question to me... but you're projecting."

"And you're deflecting. I asked you three questions and you didn't answer one" you point out.

"No. It doesn't interfere with sex, at least not to the point where you have to worry if I

can get you off or not. Whenever you decide to spread your legs for me... you'll see."

You feel your cheeks redden a little and cough. "I asked you two other questions."

"They weren't what you were getting at."

"Entertain me."

"No. It's not that I resent people. Am I jealous? Sometimes. I'd love to know what it's like to wake up in the morning without pain. But I'm not going to wake up every morning wanting to kill my partner because she jogs every morning and I can't."

"Is it because you've been able to accept it?

Was it an issue with your girlfriend at the time, coming to terms with it?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes."

Greg shrugs. “Not hard to put that together. I bet I could get a psychiatric nursing degree too.”

"Third question? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it?"

"Mm. Or she'd want to deal with it for the wrong reasons, take me on like I'm a charity case. That's unattractive for an abundance of reasons. You could go that way, I think, or you used to."

"You think I'm taking you on as a charity case? You pursued me.”

"You agreed. You didn't think for a second,

'well, he's a cripple, I'd better at least give him a shot'?"

"Your leg is not the reason I am here," you say firmly.

"What is it then, my deep blue eyes? This big, thick cane? My ray of sunshine personality?"

You chuckle. "It's your drive. You barely knew me, decided I was interesting and pursued me without abandon. That is attractive."

"You're not curious as to why you?"

"Little tits and ass, as Keith Richards would say?" You ask. "I'm used to being objectified. Pretty privilege is a thing. I'm sure you have noticed that yourself. If there's something deeper, enlighten me."

"Well, you are attractive, there's no doubting that. But I intend to find out why you're in the medical field, and psychiatry at that. It's like Cameron, on my team. You're gorgeous enough to have become an actress, marry a millionaire. Something happened to you to make you choose this."

"Did you take Cameron out until you figured what her deal was?"

"No. Cameron pities me. I have no interest in her that way."

"Well. Why do you assume brilliant minds reside only in unattractive faces? Why do you assume I worked my ass off to get here because of some past trauma when this could have just been a goal of mine like it could've been if I wasn't as hot as you think l am?”

"Okay. Then why did you choose psychiatry?"

"That's a second date conversation." You quip.

He smiles wryly at you. "You coaxed my issue out of me. Come on."

“I hold fast to my principles. You're weak,” you say, grinning back. “Why are you a doctor, then, hm?”

“I’m not a beautiful woman.”

“Right…” you say. “Chase is pretty. Foreman is too, you know. Either of them could’ve done something easier.”

“Chase is trying desperately to fill his father’s shoes. His father was a doctor, and well, you know how that story goes. And Foreman is an overcoming adversity case. He could’ve been a hood rat. He was on that path.”

“You know… women just started to be able to open credit cards in 1971. Maybe I don’t want to have to rely on a man to make a living.”

“No. Believe me, I get that. My point was there’s easier ways to make money. You chose the hard way,” he says. “And unpopular way. People become doctors and they fantasize about cutting people open and diagnosing infections, not getting hit and restraining children.”

“Your hypothesis is stupid. Maybe I don’t want to be an actor or model… or an infectious disease specialist,” you say. “And I think we’re all damaged. All of us. No one gets out unscathed.”

“No one just chooses psychiatry because it’s such a good time.”

“They do when it can make them ridiculous money without as many hardships as medical school. I could be using my degree to write suboxone scripts and make more than I’m making right now. I know a lot of people who went back for that.”

“Proving my point. Why are you doing things the hard way?”

“You take on the most difficult cases across the country, cases no one else can solve. You’re doing things the hard way, too. Why? Because the easy way is boring.”

Greg smiles at that. “Fair enough.”

“Yeah. Fair enough.”

—————

You don’t quite know how you got here. Or well, you do. Greg asked you to come back to his place for drinks, and you agreed, and you should’ve known better but it’s been years and you can’t really care too much when his warm body is underneath you, his tongue down your throat, his hands everywhere he can reach.

“How bad are you hurting?” you ask him, breathlessly.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he whispers back, reaching a hand back to touch your chin. “What do you want to come of tonight?”

“Let’s just see where this leads us,” you say, leaning back to kiss him again.

But he stops you, gentle pressure on your jaw to prevent you from closing the space between your lips. “I need to know what you want.”

You sigh, pressing your elbow in his chest as leverage to lift yourself off him, and you sit next to his feet on the other side of the couch. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t want this to head somewhere we can’t get back from. Move over,” he says, and winces, moving his legs back over to sit beside you again.

“It wasn’t sexual trauma,” you huff, aggravated. “You can say I’m damaged all you want but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like glass.”

“I tried to take your shirt off and you pushed me away but you kept kissing me. What do you want?”

“What do you want?” You ask, glaring at him.

Truth was, you were using him, maybe just like he was using you. You hadn’t had the opportunity to make quite as bad of a decision as sleeping with the man in front of you in a long time. And as bad decisions go, he wasn’t so terrible anyway. You like him so far, you think he’s attractive. But you know Wilson is right, that he might drag you down to places you haven’t been in a long time.

Still.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt something. You want the hating yourself in the morning for giving yourself away so soon, you want the walk of shame as he drives you back to the hospital where you left your car, you want to revel in the fact that Greg will be telling people how you were in bed, bragging that he got you in between his sheets. You want the dopamine hit and the subsequent crash.

You spent so long getting healthy but you had to keep everyone at arm’s length to do it. It was probably the worst idea to try to get close to someone else who also isolated people and couldn’t even be healthy then.

Why didn’t he just want it to be easy? Just fuck you and be done with it, continue if it’s convenient and worth the effort. Easy is boring, sure, but sex isn’t boring even if it’s easy (if so, he wouldn’t be seeing hookers, would he?). And you know he wants to fuck you, but why he wants to make it difficult… it’s beyond your reach at this moment.

“I want… I don’t know,” he admits, because he doesn’t.

Prostitutes were one thing. Vulnerability there didn’t really matter. They were doing a job and they didn’t even take a second glance at his leg. As long as they were getting paid. If he wanted attention drawn to it, they’d kiss it red with their lipstick but because he tells them to leave it alone… they do.

Sleeping with somebody new… it’s so much harder. It’s so much easier with someone you know. Or someone you don’t have an obligation to know.

With an aim to please rather than take, he doesn’t know how he’d perform.

Looking at his face, reading the ambivalence there, it suddenly clicks. If Wilson knew the truth, if you really are the first woman since his injury, there’s a lot of insecurity in being seen.

And you know all about being seen.

It’s easy to come off with bravado and arrogance but when you’re actually in the situation, when you’re called to be vulnerable… it’s something else entirely.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” you ask quietly.

“Yes. God yes,” he affirms, nodding his head. “Don’t take tonight as an indication.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” you say, nodding.

“That doesn’t mean… that doesn’t mean I can’t help you get off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s still sex.”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re in high school.”

“What do you think lesbians do?”

He raises his eyebrows, chucking a little. “Are you a lesbian?”

“You wish,” you laugh. “Say you could be the one that changed me.”

“I would. Except people don’t change.”

“Yeah. They do. They change all the time,” you counter, shrugging your shoulders. “Every day, every hour, every moment… it changes you. They’re minuscule changes, changes you don’t see immediately, but you look back a decade and then it clicks.”

“Right. Maybe. But fundamentally people don’t change. The parts change, but the whole never does.”

You want to say that he has been changed, that his leg injury changed him, that he holds so steadfast to that belief that people never change so he can convince himself he was always this miserable. Sure, you get the feeling he was fucked before, but this did change him. Made him worse. Made him push people away.

You don’t say that, though. You know deep down he knows it and doesn’t want to face it.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he asks, insecurity creeping in, and he doesn’t know why this is so difficult or why he cares at all. He could pay for what he wanted, live his hedonistic lifestyle and not have to worry if the woman in front of him wanted to fuck him or not.

You aren’t boring.

But that’s not true, anyway, that’s not why he keeps people at arms length. Routine medical cases are boring, but people aren’t. It’s why he went through all the files he could of the applicants for his team, trying to pick the combination that would interest him the most, play off each other in ways he could live vicariously through. They weren’t the most deserving, or the most academically gifted, they were the most interesting. It’s why he loves gossip, loves knowing about things that don’t concern him, always living life like it’s a spectator sport and he’s got front row seats.

It’s always the people that love to watch that hate to be seen.

“I could be convinced,” you say, in that bitchy tone he knows hes going to love to hate. You soften; though, turn to him, your hair falling a little in your face, kiss him gently on the mouth.

Greg responds in kind, deepening the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling lightly before traveling to your breasts, kneading your flesh through your shirt.

“Could you be convinced to have lesbian sex with me right now?” he asks.

You’d burst out laughing if you also weren’t so admittedly and ashamedly turned on right now. “Yeah. Sure. Think you’d have an easier time in bed though.”

“You treat me like all your girls?” he asks, a glint in his eye, and oh, there’s the being seen. You’re not a fan, either. You’re surprised he’s not being forthright about what he no doubt is putting together, but ultimately you’re thankful.

“A slut’s a slut,” you quip as he leans back in, his mouth barely touching yours and he chuckles against your skin.

“You really are a bitch.”

“Mm,” you agree, closing the distance between you again, pulling him to stand up with you, letting him lean on you as he puts weight on it again.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, without thinking, never one to apologize for his actions but never one to let his disability affect others, either.

“It’s okay, Greg,” you whisper. “I got you.”

“No, I’ll go get—“

You stop him, holding his jaw gently in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Empathy. Not sympathy.

You had been here, in a way. Femur fractures take a good six months to heal. You walked half a year in his shoes on the same medication he was on.

Now it all clicks, what James had done, keeping you two apart to bring you together, doing something by not doing anything, letting it all happen by chance. He had been patient enough to let time do most of the work, something Greg could never do, but something that ultimately worked in his favor.

It’s okay. We all need someone we can lean on. If you want it, you can lean on me.

You still lived a life without pain.

Greg hates it, hates it all, and if you had had just the slightest twinge of force, the slightest indication that you were saying it was okay just to say something he would’ve told you to get out. He hates the way it kills intimacy, makes him older, more decrepit, makes him dependent, in a way. There’s certain things he can never do, or that he’d need help to do, and it’s something a woman would leave him for.

It’s something a woman did leave him for.

He wants to hug you, but that would feel too much, too intimate, too soon, so he kisses you again instead, and then the two of you hobble on to his bedroom. It hurts. God, it hurts, aches like it always does, maybe more so—the last pill he took was at dinner, but you make it, helping him ease onto the bed and wasting no time, knowing he was insecure, wasting no time to prove you still wanted him, mouth on his, your legs straddling his good thigh, moving on to his neck, laving your tongue over his skin, biting gently, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

“Hey,” Greg says, stopping your hand’s ministrations.

“I’m only taking your shirt off,” you assure him. “I won’t go further than that.”

“Fine. Not much to see there, either,” he mutters.

“I like tits,” you blurt without thinking. Jesus Christ. You have to stop doing that.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “Sure you do. Good thing mine are bigger than Cuddy’s.”

“They absolutely are not.”

“You familiar with their size?”

You stop yourself just in time before you say “I wish.”

He lets you finish, helping you take his shirt off, take his undershirt off, shivering as you kiss down the length of his torso to the top of his pants. “I’ll show you mine,” you say, unbuttoning your pants and slipping them off, throwing them on the floor haphazardly. You move over so he can see the scar down the side of your leg, deep gash where they cut you open, you were a month away from a nursing license and you were in the OR, someone’s patient before you could ever be on the side you studied for.

You were lucky, they kept saying. You didn’t feel lucky at all.

Tentatively, his hand comes to touch your skin and you nod, silent agreement that he could touch. He’s gentle even though he doesn’t need to be, touching carefully, tracing the line of the scar up and down, hard keloid under his skin.

“This isn’t what you don’t want me to see,” Greg says.

“Hm?”

“Your upper body. That’s why you didn’t want me to take your shirt off.”

Oh. Yeah. That.

“I don’t care,” you lie.

“Yes, you do,” he counters immediately, looking at you knowingly. “Why are you lying?”

You sigh, pulling him back to you, kissing him hard, hoping he’ll shut up if you don’t give him the chance to speak. “Just touch me already.”

It would be so much easier if he just fucked you, fucked you over, fucked you up all within the course of a month. You get the feeling right now, as your tongue is down his throat and you’re letting out moans against his lips you try to suppress as his fingers enter you, stretch you out, reach angles you couldn’t reach by yourself, you get the feeling this is going to be for the long haul. Not that he’s necessarily going to be down on one knee, but that he’s going to drag out hurting you like he’s dragging his fingers against your walls, drawing you closer and closer to the edge but never quite bringing you there.

“You okay?” you ask him, breathless, head hazy, you just want him, want him closer than this, want him deep in you.

“Shh,” Greg whispers, almost a little irritated. “I’m busy right now.”

You can’t really focus on coming up with a retort because he starts rubbing your clit and as you tilt your head back into the pillows, he starts biting at the flesh he can now easily access, starting gentle but then applying more pressure with his teeth, smirking as you whimper.

Sweat trickles down your back and you wish this was different, but he’s naked from the waist up and you’re unclothed from the waist down, and it’s stupid, you know it’s dumb, that you’re letting this man fuck you with his fingers before you let him see you fully naked. It’s not like no one has before. It’s just a conversation you don’t want to have again.

Still. All this is making you a little too hot to be half-clothed.

Greg wonders why he let you in at all. Why he went through the trouble, bought you dinner, why he’s trying to get you off right now. Maybe it’s to fuck with James. Sure, it was originally, but now he feels like it was James who fucked with him, set him up, used predictable behaviors to create a predictable outcome. Still. If you’d been professional with him instead of giving him crassness right back, he would’ve decided to make your life a living hell instead of getting you in between his sheets. Either way, he was going to make someone miserable.

Himself, first and foremost.

Not that he can really be miserable right now. It’s not terrible being needed in this sense, he’s remembering.

You weren’t like Stacy, though, not here. You’re louder, not in a patronizing way where you exaggerate your moans to try and stroke a man’s ego, but it’s like you genuinely can’t hold yourself back. It’s hot. It’s unreserved. It’s… passionate in a way Stacy just wasn’t. She loved him, he knows that, but when things got hard and he got mean instead of fighting back she got cold and walked away.

Not that he can glean exactly how you’d be in an argument from how you act in bed, but he has a feeling you don’t let go of things easily.

And… well. Takes one to know one.

Who would give in, though?

His relationship with Stacy worked before his leg because Stacy would accommodate, she would compromise herself for him. It’s why his friendship with James works now. Sure. Both of them gave him some pushback — it’s not like they in good conscience could let him get away with all the things he wanted to do. And eventually he pushed Stacy until she broke.

You, though? You don’t seem like you shatter easily. If anything you seem like you’d harden like a scar, healing over stronger, uglier, thicker, nothing really hurting you because you’d just put more walls up. You’d fight him to the bitter end.

And you know, maybe he wants that. Someone he’s not afraid to push too far because he knows you’ll push right back the second he gets even an inch.

All he really knows is your vague med list, that you got into a motorcycle accident almost a decade ago, and that you chose to be a psychiatric provider among all other things you could have been. And yet… he feels like he can glean much more.

All he really knows in this moment is that you’re coming apart under his fingers, gripping his forearm with your hands as he drags out your orgasm, trying to get him away from your now overstimulated cunt.

“She comes in colors everywhere,” he mutters, smirking lazily at you, dragging his fingers out of you, finally, then brings them to his mouth, sucking slowly on each one.

You scoff at his comment, but just as quickly he sees the light turn green again and you straddle his left thigh, coming to kiss his mouth, hard, bare cunt against his slacks and he can’t help it, he’s thinking about you wrecking them, thinking about your wet pussy on what could’ve been his bare thigh… and he groans despite himself, in pain, yes, but also pleasure - and he’s pulling you closer by the collar of your shirt, and he begins to remember why men put themselves through what could very well be the potential torture of dating a woman.

It’s just so much better when it’s with someone you know. Or… someone you need to know everything about, need to memorize like they’re an extension of yourself.

You’re not soulmates. It’s not love. It’s not romance, like James would decree.

You won’t fix him. He sure as hell won’t fix you.

But you’ll do something to each other, alright.

#greg house x reader #house x reader #greg house x you #gregory house x reader #house md #gregory house

1K notes · View notes

ghoulie-67-baby · 2 years ago

Text

One too many mistakes- Criminal minds.

Summary: You’re a member of the BAU and have been captured by the unsub. You know they’ll save you but you have to be patient.

Prompts: You escape captivity and start running, only to run into your saviour.

Warnings: Blood, mentions of murder, kidnapping, language, crying, vomiting.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader.

Word count: 1,068.

"You're sick." I spat up at the unsub, my hands aching from being tied up. "Why do you do this?" I watched as his chapped lips curled into a sickening grin, revealing rotted teeth and the stench of blood on his breath.

"Maybe I am sick, maybe I'm the normal one." He shrugged, attacking a tube to the cannula in my arm. "Either way I enjoy it." My eyes widened at the horrifying chuckle that filled the room. Silence overcame us as he fiddled with his equipment. I knew what would happen soon enough. He would collect as much of my blood as he wanted, drink it, and repeat for a few days. When he wanted fresh blood he would dump my body just like with all the other women. Two nights had already passed and I knew my time was limited.

"Rest now sweet pet, ill be back soon." My body slid down the wall as I feigned exhaustion.

A few hours had passed since he left and I had been working hard to escape the ropes. I just about managed to fray the one around my ankles using a nail sticking through the floorboard. My hands shook in my lap, the locks on the door echoing through the room. With my head hanging, I faked sleep, holding back a grin when he left the door wide open.

'That's your first mistake asshole.' The thought made me shiver with anticipation but I waited patiently, knowing timing was imperative. Once he turned back around, I readied myself. His second mistake.

Scrambling to my feet, I yanked my arms from the cannulas and sprinted for the door, not giving him the chance to react.

Pains seared through my limbs as they screamed in protest. The ground was uneven and the lack of light from the dense foliage proved it more difficult to guide myself. Heavy boot falls sounded from behind me as he began the chase. Using tree trunks and bushes as cover, I hid myself and tried to figure out my direction.

"You bitch!" I could tell he was stalking closer, his voice getting louder. Taking an unsteady breath, I stumbled through the threes, trying to ignore the dizziness clouding my head. "You can't run forever!" He was right, especially with the state I was in, but I'd give it a damn good go if it meant a better chance of surviving.

"I can hear you," he sang into the darkness, his sickening grin flashing through my head. "I can smell you, almost taste you. All that fresh blood going to waste." My heart raced in my chest, cementing my fear that he could actually hear it.

Tears clouded my vision as I staggered through branches and rotting leaves. The tree roots seemed to latch onto my feet as I ran, making me trip and struggle for balance. With my captor's voice converging on me and my senses overtaken by panic and pain I didn't notice the figures ahead of me.

The howl of a dog broke me from my panicked stupor and I fell back, eyes wide and blurry as the animal barked at me.

"Y/N?" A figure called my name and I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my bound palms. They focused a little better, revealing the angry face of Hotch and the concern and relief of my team. My body flooded with relief as my knees shook, teeth chattering in the autumn air. "Hey, you're okay. Y/N walk to me."

I followed the voice, tears streaming down my face as I tried to stay on my feet. My face came into contact with a bulletproof vest but from the cologne, I could tell it was Hotch. Seconds passed before he pulled away from me, hands holding my elbows as his eyes inspected me for injuries. My bound wrists pressed against his chest as his eyes rested on the bleeding wounds on my arms.

"Tell me sweet pet," the yelling made my head snap up as Hotch untied the rope from my sore wrists. "How close am I? Close enough to taste you yet?" A shiver passed up my spine as I gripped my boss's sleeves, tears still falling as the team moved to shield me.

"He won't touch you again, we won't let him." I faced the direction of the voice, hands clutching Aaron's behind my back as the grimy man came into view.

"Tut tut sweet pet, thought we were exclusive?" Hotch's hands flinched slightly as I shook. Third mistake.

"You can't go anywhere now, man, put down the weapon." Morgan's voice was hard and tense as agents surrounded the unsub. "Put it down!". His eyes stayed locked on mine as he put his shotgun down, a sick smile on his face, and knelt amongst the autumn leaves.

The agents closed in quickly, Morgan snapped cuffs on him before hauling him to his feet. I motioned for him to bring him over.

"Why?" My voice shook no matter how hard I tried to keep it steady. "Why did you really do it?"

"I already told you pet," he leant closer, ignoring Morgan's pull. "Because I enjoy it." With a wave of demented laughter, he was dragged off, laughter mixing with Morgan's commands.

what little colour was in my face drained as I doubled over, hurling up the bile in my empty stomach.

"I've got you. JJ, alert the medics." My hair was gathered back as I heaved what little I could, retches shaking my body.

"M'sorry didn't mean to do that." I chuckled weakly, not even trying to make it sound real as I dragged myself upright. Aaron shook his head, wrapping his jacket around me before guiding me out of the forest, the flash of the ambulance calling my name.

"Don't apologise. I'm just sorry we weren't here sooner. He didn't do anything else did he?" He trailed off, not wanting to imagine what else that monster could do.

"No, he didn't do anything else, just the blood. I'll never look at a doctor the same way ever again." I sighed, sitting on the ambulance step, moving so he could sit with me. "You were here in time, that's all that matters."

Resting my heavy head on his shoulder, exhaustion stopped me from caring that he was my boss, let alone closed off. Instead, I chose to revel in his warmth.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #x reader #reader insert

867 notes · View notes

drghostwrite · 2 years ago

Text

Something to Fight for…

Pairing: Olivia Benson x reader

Summary: Tricia is a nurse who lost her license, she ran an underground ring and would kill the girl’s that got pregnant. Captain Olivia Benson and her team caught this killer and took everything but after a good lawyer comes around and releases her she goes after what Olivia loves most, and that means you(her wife) and your unborn baby.

******************************************************** “My phone!” You turned back towards your bedroom knowing you forgot something.

You saw it laying on Olivia’s side of the bed and went around to grab it, catching a glimpse of yourself in your bedroom mirror. You stopped running a hand over you 30 week bump, you felt your baby push a foot against your hand.

“A month and a half, and we finally get to meet you baby girl.” You felt another kick, you could hear Olivia in your head saying but wait we don’t know that yet, and Noah cheering about wanting a brother. One thing was you were so happy about having the baby that you didn’t care as long as it was healthy but you had a feeling, you always had a feeling.

Your phone started ringing and you quickly answered, “Hey Gina what’s up?”

“Not much, just checking in your assistant said you weren’t in yet and you do have that appraisal in 30 minutes.”

“Oh I knew I forgot something,” you scrambled and heard her laugh on the other end.

“I knew it, blame it on the hormones!”

“Girl I’ll be there in 20!”

“sounds good.” You heard the dial tone of her hanging up and you raced to grab your bag and keys. You heard your phone ringing again and answered not looking placing it between your shoulder and ear running out of the house.

“Girl I said I’ll be there in 20 I won’t be late, just prep everything for court later.”

“Y/N?” You heard Olivia’s voice. “Tell me you’re gonna be late.” She chuckled.

“Liv!” You whined, “I told you.”

“No, I recall you moaning my name this morning and asking me to stay.”

“Ugh, you’re not wrong.”

“I just wanted to call and check in, I was gonna swing by the office and see how my girls are doing.”

“your girls?” You poked with a smirk.

“what can I say it’s growing on me.”

“Well… I mean…” suddenly you felt a pinch turning you saw someone behind you, Olivia said something on the phone but it all went blurry and you felt an arm come around you and your bump.

Y/N, Y/N, love what’s going on? that’s the last thing you remember hearing before it all went black.

——— time jump———

You heard someone shuffling around and you tried opening your eyes but you felt drowsy, that was until you felt a hand ghost along your pregnant belly and then a sharp pain, a scalpel slid across the taught skin.

“Stop!” You groaned out.

You were propped against pillows supporting your back, you tried to reach out but your hands were tied to the bed rail you pulled the unrelenting restraints, something cold tapped your arm you looked up to see an IV bag hanging the tube hooked into the crease of your arm, you tried to kick but she sat next to your hip it wouldn’t be any use. You took in the woman before you about your height, and you were on the taller side only two inches shorter than Liv, she had fit features, brown eyes and dark raven hair.

“Whaa… what’s going on who are you?” You strained against the bed frame.

“Hmm funny I know who you are, but you don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Should I?”

“Oh darling see I was one of your wife’s biggest cases, she took everything from me. I had a nursing career and a good operation going and all the sudden gone.” She ran fingers along you belly, feeling the skin twitch uncomfortably beneath her touch. You watched the scalpel in her other hand propped on your thigh, you winced at a slight cramp feeling but brushed it off.

“See I ran an underground…refuge, for girls that got pregnant, they could come have their babies, I would help with deliveries and then we would put them up for adoption.”

“You killed all those poor girls.” A tear escaped you eye.

“Hmm see that’s a harsh term more like released or set free. It was good for awhile but in comes Captain Benson and the SVU to save the day. They put me in prison and destroyed everything.”

“Sounds like y… yo… Oh God!” You felt a contraction roll through your body. You watched her reaction as you tried breathing, “wha… what’s happening?”

“Well you see that IV in your arm, that’s pitocin made to induce labor quickly, I figured it would be helpful.”

“No no it’s to early… the baby isn’t ready.”

“baby will be fine… mommy on the other hand.”

“why… why are you doing this?” You felt another contraction, wincing and straining against the ties on your wrist.

“I lost everything, my baby, my dream job, my life all because of your wife so I’m going to take what she values most.”

“No, no you can’t, please you can’t…” you begged another contraction coming on, this one caught you off guard and you gasped as you felt liquid between your thighs.

You felt her place her hands under you thighs pulling your knees up, “Well there goes your water only a matter of time now.” As you fought through another contraction you saw as she quickly left coming back in scrubs, she put on gloves, and you heard the sounds of metal assuming it was other instruments. She came back scalpel in hand, she ran her fingers over the long slice from earlier the blood on her finger. “See this? If you try to fight or escape I will cut this baby out of you, understand?” You slowly nodded.

———time jump———

You felt two hands forcing your knees apart, “ Please you can’t do this.” You begged tears rolling down your face, sweat coated your strained features and hair stuck to your face, you fought the pressure, the urge to push unbearable. You didn’t want to bring your baby into this environment, not with a sociopath that was ready to take everything from Olivia.

“Push Y/N.” She demanded.

“It burns so bad.” Tears fell down your face as you were nearing a point of no return your baby was coming whether you wanted it to or not.

“It’s because you’re crowning, now push.”

“I can’t it’s too early.” A strangled groan escaped your lips.

“Push dammit, if you don’t you both die.”

“Noo…” you grunted another contraction coming over you, but in rebellion you felt as you pushed feeling the baby shift down the pain becoming more bearable, but you knew it was one push closer to your baby being in the wrong woman’s arms. “Good, now another…”

“No…” breathing ragged.

“Y/N this baby is coming whether you want it to or not, so push before I have to cut it out.” If you could fight you would, if you could jump off this bed and kick her ass you would. But you couldn’t you fought against the restraints that kept you tied to the bed rail, taking all your energy to not push, delaying this delivery as much as you could, praying that someone… anyone would get there in time.

“Ughhh…” unwillingly your body let out a guttural moan as you could feel your body warring with itself.

You glanced over her shoulder seeing slight movement as she was focused between your legs. It was Sonny and that meant Fin and Olivia weren’t far behind. You felt relief, until another contraction came and you knew it was time to push. You heard Sonny call out to her, feeling the bed shift as she stood to face him, a couple quick footsteps and then a gunshot, you screwed your eyes shut hearing a thud and then heels quickly enter. You felt a hand on your cheek and someone’s forehead met yours, you opened your eyes to be met with Olivia you let out heavy breaths as tears fell between you, she pulled away.

“You’re safe I got you.”

“Liv, I…” another contraction interrupted the small moment and fear entered her eyes, she quickly undid your hands pulling out the IV, she tried to move you.

“You’re in labor, you’re… okay time to go.” She tried to lift you off the bed hoping to get you down to her car in time to rush you to the hospital.

“I can’t… Olivia I can’t.” You winced as she tried to move you.

“Love, we have to get you to the hospital.” She urged.

“no, no time, she’s coming, the baby is coming…..this is happening now.” You groaned through another contraction.

“um okay, okay” she looked around, she leaned down to look between your legs, one hand going to your thigh as she felt you tense under the weight of another contraction, she saw your babies head and watched as it slowly moved as you pushed, your eyes crammed shut gritting your teeth. Using the hand that you currently had in hers you pulled her away from the sight before her and back up to your face.

“I need you…” you whispered.

“I’m right here… but you need help.” She explained.

“so get someone, anyone but I need you here.” You countered the best you could as she took pity on you. She didn’t like seeing you like this, in distress fighting with nature as you brought her child into this world, during one of the scariest nights of your life.

“Amanda!” She called out, and the blonde agent came right in, eyes widened at the sight before her, you were propped on pillows legs up groaning and fighting through a contraction, Olivia next to you trying her best to stay strong and not freak out.

“Liv?”

“I need your help.” Olivia said meeting her eyes.

“I see that” she came closer to you rubbing a hand on your leg.

“Look we can’t move her.”

“so you want me to do what?”

“deliver this baby,” you spoke up through gritted teeth, “those boys aren’t coming near me like this, all you have to do is catch.”

“Um, what, no… I, no Liv , I can’t.” She protested

“Please for me.” Olivia pleaded, as you let out another moan, Amanda thought and then quickly agreed. You heard Olivia then yell to Fin telling him to get paramedics there quickly, Sonny kept other rookies and cops out of the house.

“Liv I have no I-idea what I-I’m doing… I can’t deliver this baby…”

“Just catch my baby,” you gritted your teeth, “when the baby comes out…wrap her in a towel to keep her warm.”

“Okay…okay, then let’s do this, one big push for me.” She encouraged, more so for herself than you.

You pushed as Olivia and Amanda cheered you on, “wait Y/N wait.”

“what… what’s wrong?”

“I think it’s just the cord, just let me check.” You threw your head back trying not to push on this next contraction and what you didn’t see was the hand she held up for your wife to see, fingers coated in dark red blood. Olivia’s face shifted from excitement and worry to stone cold and you could sense something was up by the way her muscles tensed.

“what’s wrong?” You said between breaths.

“I…” Olivia sat unmoving a tear escaped her eye, she can’t lose you or this baby, she wouldn’t be able to live.

“Y/N there’s a lot of blood.” Amanda explained.

“Is the baby okay though?”

“Y/N” Olivia tried to reason.

“Amanda is my baby okay?”

“I…I think so but I can’t be sure.”

“Once the baby comes out you worry about her not me…” tears ran down your cheeks as Olivia looked into your eyes terrified at the thought of losing you.

“It’s a lot of blood…” Amanda tried again.

“Get me to a hospital but you make sure that this baby survives first.”

“Y/N Benson…” Olivia protested.

“Baby, then me… promise.”

“I promise, but I still love you.” She bent down pressing a fervent kiss to your lips. Her tears hitting your cheeks for a small moment before you pulled away with a gasp, your forehead pressed tightly to hers.

You pushed with the next contraction, you felt the head fully slide out, “Head is out!” The blonde exclaimed.

You turned your head as you pushed on last time, a scream falling from your lips, Olivia’s tears hitting your cheek as her forehead was pressed into your temple. You pushed for what felt like an eternity before the shoulders came out and before you knew it Olivia was holding your new baby. Moments later red and white lights flashed outside the indie and heavy footsteps could be heard resounding as paramedics rushed in and started with you pushing Olivia and the baby away, they quickly got you in an ambulance, Olivia and the baby sliding in beside you.

“boy or girl?” You asked pulling down the oxygen mask.

“girl” she answered as she watched you fight the urge to pass out, paramedics trying to give you a blood transfusion as you went pale. Tears fell down her cheeks, staining the small towel that she held your baby in.

———time jump———

Four hours later you were safe and sound in the hospital room, you felt a pressure on you left hand and looked, there was you wife’s hand in yours head resting on your arm.

“Liv?” You watched as she slowly lifted her tear stained face and looked at you, she realized you were awake and quickly pulled you into a kiss.

“I was so scared.”

“I know babe, I was to.”

“Oh God Y/N I can’t lose you.”

“Olivia Benson, I’m not going anywhere that easily.”

#x yn #pregnancy #olivia benson #law and order svu #olivia benson x reader #svu x reader #giving birth #pregnant reader

412 notes · View notes

kickingitwithkirk · 3 days ago

Text

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 1126

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashing, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding, panic attacks, bondage, forced mating, dated derogatory terms, medical treatment

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnabobingo Slutty Omega

A/N I: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N II: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

**Apologies for taking so long getting this part out-had an accident at work and will have limited used of right hand for a bit.

Series Masterlist

Part XI

Dr. Stevenson slid surgical scissors under the ties, quickly sniping, explaining the original posture collars were redesigned for auto-erotic asphyxiation. It fades out as Dean feels like he's having needles pulling out from under the skin of his neck when she drops. "I was expecting that. Let's get the O back on the table."

The doctor continues talking as they slowly remove it, "And this is why they're outlawed," stepping back allows Dean to see the deep purple bruises with black depressions stripping the unconscious O's neck.

****

The doctor gently scrubbed her neck with a fine-pore sponge and commented, "You felt it, didn't you? " The question took Dean off guard and touched his neck, "How'd you?"

"I noticed the claim mark while I was removing the collar. Finding an O you're biologically compatible with isn't easy these days, and even more so for the owner to claim them if they are." Dean doesn't respond. "'Course, it's none of my business. I'm seeing a lot of soft tissue abrasion but no skin necropsy. That's good. Bruise cream will speed up healing." The doctor shined a light into her mouth. "Has she attempted to speak?" Dean admitted he had not heard anything outside coughing.

"I am concerned about this inflammation in her throat." They pick up a swab. "I'm going to have some labs run. Make sure it isn't from an STI since O clinics are only obligated to run standard STD testing for appearances." Slipping the swap into a sterile tube notices the Alpha's confusion.

"Several years into Hibbing, there was unrest brewing about selling people, so the government mandated all O's must have their hymens intact before the first purchase and made propaganda reels still shown in schools to program the populous in believing they're not mistreated." The doctor moves to a cupboard, pulling out a sterile pack.

"Truth is, these O's are versed in various sexual acts by the time they're teens. Going by the physical, I'd say she's been repeatedly throat fucked with that collar on; undoubtedly, it's also done some damage to her vocal cords. But if you're willing, you can do things to help." They gauge Dean before continuing.

"Give her nothing too hot or cold, only room temperature. Tea with honey, soft foods only need to swallow, nothing chewy, and protein supplement specifically for O's. If lucky, she'll recover enough to be understandable but be prepared for the worst, that she'll never speak again." They began preparing a site near the original implant. "I'd normally like to wait on the suppressant; it'll slow down healing. But with her current physical condition, going into heat would be detrimental."

They continued talking, oblivious Dean's vibrating with anger in muscle memory: unable to stop the strangers hovering over his Omega because being tased several times had temporarily left his legs unusable; furiousgrowls bounced around the room when he smelled her blood. Needing a distraction before his instincts swallow him, Dean turns his attention elsewhere and eyes the collar.

Running his fingers over it, he feels the visual bumps and discovers slim, horizontal boning embedded in the leather and hears the doctor comment, "They're constriction rings, function similar to cock rings without the pleasurable effects."

Dean's habitual guilty-as-hell caught in his throat. He failed again to see what was right before him. He shouldn't have kept blindly believing his dad's continued quoting of that damn pamphlet, that him treating it like any other person confused its lower intelligence.

Sam's snide comment that only dick Alphas believed in that antiquated bullshit led to the latest round of Dean physically getting between them before punches got thrown. His wonders what level of dick his brother now considers him is interrupted by the phone's ringtone.

"Hey Bobby, no, still at the clinic. What? Sam's registering shouldn't be an issue; his paperwork is all there." Dean listened to the Betas ranting. "Alright, I'll head over there and deal with it." Then came a list of errands the Beta needed him to run made Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Just what he needed; more things slapped on his overflowing plate when he felt the O coming around, ending the call to focus on her. "Hi, sweetheart. Have a good nap?"

She turned towards his voice, spotting the IV pole, and glanced down at the tubing protruding from her wrist. She peered at him and blinked three times, the signal for question. "You have something going on in your throat and need some antibiotics and fluids. Listen, I gotta run out for a while and deal with something at Sam's school. Will you be okay?"

That's when it smacked Dean; something had shifted between them. If he allows himself to be honest with himself, it scares him. Refocusing on the O, he's unnerved by her concerned expression, too similar to Sam's, and feels relief when she blinks once for yes since he's unsure how to react to her becoming more in tune with his internal feelings.

Grabbing the three-quarter-drank bottle of rotgut, Bobby doesn't bother with the glass; he feels it burn his throat as he polishes it off. Banging the bottle down, he stares at the wording on the paperwork and understands why John was so cagey about his questioning about Frank. The sonuvabitch knowingly mated his children; that practice hasn't been done since before the Omega plague. And knowing the temperament of the man, it wasn't to get Dean out of dire straits because he is John’s son, but for the older Alphas' continued vendetta.

The Beta's mind whirled with questions, but one kept popping to the forefront- who or what made her appear out of nowhere, and why now?

The longer he broods, the more he's convinced it has links to Mary Winchester. Picking up the cordless phone, he dials a familiar number. "Hey Bobby," a female voice warmly says. "Guess you're not calling to find out who to bet on in Sunday's playoffs."

"We both know the Vikings are going to the Superbowl," there's an amused laugh on the line, "Keep telling yourself that. So what can I help you with?"

"I'm not sure where to start with this one," Bobby admits and hears cards shuffling through the receiver. "It'd be best to go back to the beginning. And keep the drinks down to a minimum." He glances at the new bottle he had sat on the desk just before calling, "How'd you...?"

"I'm the best damn psychic in the state," Pamela reminds him, "So start talking, or I will reverse the charges for this call." Bobby makes a vexed noise at his fellow Betas' cheekiness.

"In 1986, I met a man with two small boys looking for answers."

Part XII

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67 @elmolovesw33d

#Winchester’s Folly #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #alpha dean winchester #alpha sam winchester #alpha john winchester #dystopia #alpha!dean x omega!reader x alpha!sam #bobby singer #pamela barnes #supernatural #spn au #spn a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #spn fic

33 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 2 years ago

Note

Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spidereverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff #godddd listening to light the city up reallt gets me hyped

465 notes · View notes

drearycrow · 2 months ago

Text

You're not here

Prologue

Notes: I decided to start writing a short series involving Mori. He's a well written character. I will give you a warning now, this fic will get quite dark later on. There's nothing too serious in the prologue. I hope you enjoy

How long have I been in this place? I don't remember to be honest. I've lost count after being trapped here for so long. This cold, dark, and damp basement I've been trapped in for who knows who long. I can barely move without that damn chain tied to my ankle. The farthest I can go is to the bucket that's ten feet away from me. I stare at the plate of food in front of me.

I poke and prod at it for a few minutes before taking a few bites out of it. I'm quite lucky to get a meal. Most of the time, I get a bowl of rice with small chunks of beef on it. I eat the meal until I started to feel unwell. My stomach started to burn spreading throughout my abdomen. I curl up into a ball hoping it will make it go away. The whole room starts to spin around me until everything went black.

I wake up a few hours later in a medical room with tubes tied to me and a doctor checking my vitals. His violet eyes widen once he noticed I am awake. "Ah I see you're finally awake. How are you feeling my dear?" He says as he takes the clipboard and pen. I feel quite confused by his question. It didn't help the whole room is spinning around me. "W-What?" I mutter out. I try to sit up from the bed but that quickly turned into a terrible idea. It made the dizziness worse and made me nauseous. The doctor noticed my demeanor and puts his hand on my thigh.

"Whoa take it easy their dear. You need to lay back down and rest, ok?" I simply nod at his words and lay back down. "Good girl." He gives my thigh at light squeeze before standing up. "You've been out cold for a few hours. I was worried that I've lost you. Though I'm glad your looking better compared to the state I found you in earlier." The raven haired man with scruffy facial hair smiles.

"It was quite troublesome to get the poison out of your system but it seems like most, if not, all of it is gone. You feel a bit woozy from being unconscious for awhile." The man makes his way to the door but stops himself. He looks over at me before speaking. "I will be back occasionally to check up on you. Get some rest and if you need anything just press the red button on the table." After that, the mysterious doctor leaves.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd mori #mori ougai #bsd #mori x reader #bsd mori x reader

33 notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago

Note

“oh baby, you don’t even know half the things i’d do just to see you smile”

Hiii boo!

There you were sitting on the couch with a plate on top of your pregnant stomach that Jack had just piled high with your favorite Chinese food.

Your hair was a mess as it sat on top of your head and your back was starting to hurt so you knew that you would probably have to change positions soon.

You were stuffing your face and all Jack was doing was looking at you and smiling.

"What, you little weirdo?" You asked as you stuffed a piece of orange chicken in your mouth.

"Nothing. My wife is just beautiful and I love looking at her."

All you did was snort in response.

"I look like a fucking whale and I've gained more weight now than I did with the triplets so no I don't feel beautiful at the moment. For there to only be two in there, they are giving me a run for my money."

"You do not look like a whale. How many times do we have to go over this?"

"I can't see my feet."

"Still gorgeous to me." Jack answered and simply shrugged.

"You're my husband and supposed to say that."

"Baby, cut it out."

You deeply sighed before nodding your head and taking another bite of your food.

"Fine. Thank you for my food."

"You don't have to thank me. I just did what my wife asked me to do."

"Well I still say thank you no matter how big or small a gesture is. I don't take anything that you do for me for granted because I know it's genuine and coming from your heart. You always make me smile even when it's something simple."

“Oh baby, you don’t even know half the things I'd do just to see you smile”

"Jackman, the tears are beginning to come in my eyes. Hormones." You said as you set your plate down next to you and watched your belly as the twins were moving.

"Just being honest. You know I would do anything for you and I know I tell you all the time but I seriously mean it."

"I know you do and I love you for it."

"And I love you. More than you could ever know."

'But, after this I'm getting my tubes tied. I cannot deal with your super sperm anymore. I am officially done. I can't believe I had two sets of multiples and only one pregnancy with one baby."

"And you didn't even know you were pregnant for damn near the entire time. But we really aren't having any more after this?"

All you did was stare at him.

"Jackman, there will be eight people in this house soon, don't ask me dumb questions."

"But what about when the triplets move out?"

"I-.... NO MORE BABIES!"

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #first lady of pg

154 notes · View notes

glitteringcrab · 7 months ago

Text

Frying his backups

I'm wondering if various stuff was taking place during this scene that went right over our heads:

(First of all, I'd like to say that I absolutely love the composition of this scene. Rick Prime is bathed in light, yet is almost indistinguishable from the machinery in which he's confined. Evil Morty, on the other hand, is standing on the dark side of the room, yet he's clearly visible; a bright figure among the darkness. Simply a manner of color balance and scene composition?? Symbolism ??? Symbolism of what????)

(Rick C-137, on the other hand, is almost as dark as Rick Prime; his color scheme shifting towards red from all the blood, his body as much machinery and tubes as the chair Rick Prime is currently confined in. Symbolism of their lost humanity? Accidental symbolism?)

A) What exactly happened before Rick Prime came to? This room is clearly wrecked. These metal panels are cracked or broken.

Did Evil Morty break them or did another battle, with some other enemy of Rick Prime's, take place soon before Rick C-137's battle?

Did Evil Morty accidentally wreck the whole room while attempting to extract/insert those thick cables from/into the metal panels in the wall?

Were the thick cables originally part of Prime's chair, or part of the machinery in the wall?

If they were part of the chair, what was their original function? Where were they supposed to connect to?

There are no empty sockets visible on the control panel to accommodate them, and wouldn't they be a trip hazard unless they were to go into the floor, which doesn't appear wrecked?

If they were part of the wall, how did Evil Morty connect them with the chair?

Admitedly, this doesn't look like a chair-oriented chair: it's a piece of machinery. Like, it seems to have served a specific function and not just Prime's butt. It has lights, and the thinner cables that are connected to Prime's brain via fingergun seem to emerge directly from the chair, with in-built openings to accommodate them. The thinner cables emerging from the bottom of the chair and to the tablet seem to be in their normal position, too...

The chair doesn't seem wrecked, either; just the walls, which points towards the thicker cables being part of the chair as well (but then what were they supposed to connect toooo?? And did Evil Morty stuck himself in the wall panels to connect the thick tables to whatever system was hidden in the wall lol?)

And, shouldn't the chair be facing the control panel?? No wheels are visible, can it even rotate?

What was the actual purpose of machinery of the chair?? We've seen Rick Prime fire the Omega Device while standing, using only a tablet. Why did he need his chair to be so sci-fi? What purpose did it serve??

Am I overthinking this?

B) What "picture" are you getting????

You are being murdered. This isn't complicated. This isn't something for you to "get".

Is he surprised that he found himself tied in his own chair in stead of, I dunno, not waking up at all?

...Could he tell from the cables stuck on his head that Evil Morty was messing with his brain? Was this the picture he "got"? In a "ooh, you are reading my mind" fashion? (But Evil Morty did not start stealing his secrets until the end...)

C) Notice that whenever the ends on the mini implanted cables from Eyepatch Morty's fingerguns go bright red, the thin black cables attached to Prime's forehead become visibly overloaded or something, and he always grimaces in pain...

But the mini implanted cables going red and Rick Prime being painfully electrocuted don't seem to coincide with Prime's clones getting fried...!

I'm counting 4 times Prime's clones getting visibly fried that weren't accompanied by a painful electrocution and the mini fingergun cables going red.

It seems to me like two separate things going on: (1) Evil Morty frying Prime's clones and (2) Evil Morty's fingergun weapon doing... something. Interacting with Prime in some fashion.

Either punishing him whenever Evil Morty got slightly mad (but this seems unlikely, Prime did not get electrocuted neither when he offered Evil Morty a job, nor when he insulted Evil Morty's murdering abilities) or... I'm leaning towards the theory that Prime was stealthily trying to override the fingeguns by using his own implants, and his attempts were halted? (whew) And, maybe, he was trying to distract Evil Morty from these attempts by talking to him...?

D) Why was Prime criticizing Evil Morty's murdering technique????

What do you think it is???

Was Prime simply confused that getting tied on a chair preceded getting murdered? In a "why take an unnecessary step" fashion?

Did he think that Evil Morty planned to torture him?

Is this the torture lol?

Cause this insult doesn't really make sense... Sure, it's kinda funny, but it doesn't make particular sense. Prime had just witnessed Evil Morty shooting him, attacking him physically and having a buttload of weapons implanted on his person. Did he think Evil Morty was incapable of finishing him off for some reason? I mean, I wouldn't say "ooh, what are you gonna do to me, huh???" to a guy armed to his teeth lol

Did his own hidden implants interacting with Evil Morty's fingerguns grant him some insight on the nature of Evil Morty's own brain implant and whatever limitations it might have?

Was it just an insult? In a "oh, you like to play tough but you're just a kid" fashion?

Was he confused that the murder wasn't concluded already?

Now you get it??

(I have to give it to Rick Prime for not fearing death, though. He looks slightly worried when Evil Morty drags Rick C-137 into the room, but he gets over it pretty soon. He also looked slightly nervous while Rick C-137 was disconnecting the cables from his head, but he got over it very fast, too. He's a horrible jerk but he ain't a coward)

E) Am I obsessed and do I need to find another hobby?

(Why, yes. Definitely.)

(Part 2 here)

#rick and morty #rick prime #rick sanchez #evil morty #eyepatch morty #frying his backups

41 notes · View notes

gingiesworld · 1 year ago

Text

Love is Fickle

Final Part

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Tears. Death.

Taglist: @username23345 @fxckmiup @marvelogic @dark-hunter16 @moistblobfish

18+ MINORS DNI

It had been a couple of months since Y/N had been declared MIA and Steve had went to lead a search team. Wanda kept reading over the letters they had sent as Peggy remained inside Y/N's room. Only eating when Mrs Maximoff made her meals.

"He will bring them home Peggy." She reassured her friend/neighbour. "The both of them will be home safe."

"I don't know." She whispered as she looked up at the woman beside her. "I have this horrible feeling. I can't quite explain it but I can feel something terrible has happened." Mrs Maximoff just wrapped her arm around her as she cried. "I don't know what I'll do if I lost either of them."

The weeks wore on and still no word of the whereabouts of Y/N, not even a peep from Steve either.

"This is the last place we have to search before they are declared dead." Captain Rogers stated as the troops nodded.

"But what about their families. We're practically giving up." One spoke out as Steve sighed.

"I am the family of one of the missing troops. My kid is out there getting tortured or god knows what." He boomed. "But we all fight under the same flag, so that makes you guys their family too, and we will fight to bring our family home."

"Yes sir." They all answered in unison.

"Let's move out!" He boomed before he headed to his quarters to check his rifle. Hoping that this is the place they find Y/N. Looking at the picture of the three of them together on a family vacation before they started their senior year.

The troops travelled towards the enemy base, well if that is what you can call it. It was only a few huts surrounding a cave. Shots being fired as they infiltrated the base. Steve had one goal in mind and that was find and rescue Y/N. Not caring if he made it out alive himself.

When they made their way towards the cells, Steve's heart broke at the sight. He saw Y/N strung up with their wrists tied together. The tips of their toes barely scraping the concrete below them. The blood both dry and fresh covered their face and ruined uniform. Steve was fast to get his knife from his belt to cut them down with the help of another.

"They're still alive but barely." They informed Steve as he sighed in relief. There was time to save their kid.

"Let's get them home." He said as the troops got the remaining survivors and led them outside. "We need emergency evac." He spoke through the radio.

"5 minutes out to the rendevouz point." They replied as the troops fired their way through the base. Killing enemies in their way.

"I'm going to get you home Y/N." Steve muttered as he continued to power through. The survivors were placed on the chopper as the extraction team provided cover fire. Steve groaned when he felt a bullet rip through his back. Not thinking much of it as he watched Y/N get treated.

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

Days had passed since the rescue, the survivors were being flown home as was the bodies of the fallen. Peggy stood with Mrs Maximoff as they watched everyone get off the flight. Hoping to see both Y/N and Steve walk off arm in arm. When the troops had walked off, her heart dropped at the sight of Y/N being wheeled off the plane. Tubes and wires were attached to help them heal as a coffin followed moments later.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Mrs Rogers." One of the Lieutenants spoke as they handed Steve's medal of honour to her. She sobbed as she realised that she had lost the love of her life. She almost lost her child too.

"Come on." Mrs Maximoff pulled her with her. Following as Y/N was taken to the hospital on the base. "Y/N needs you."

Mrs Maximoff informed Wanda of Y/N's return and Captain Rogers death. She visited them a few times, her heart breaking as she watched the machines do the work for them. Hating not seeing their eyes gazing into her own.

As the weeks wore on, Peggy was trying her hardest to be strong for Y/N but was slowly falling apart. Until the moment Y/N woke up, she smiled as the tears fell from her face.

"My baby." She whispered as Y/N gave her a small smile.

"Where's dad?" They asked as she sighed, giving them a sad smile.

"He uh he led the extraction team to save you and your unit." She started nervously. "They found you after months of searching and he uh." She wiped her eyes. "He died. GSW to the back."

"No." Y/N shook their head as she ran her fingers through their matted long hair. "He can't be."

"I'm so sorry baby." She whispered as she hugged them.

"I'm so sorry mama." They cried. "It's my fault. He should have just left me there."

"He wouldn't have done that and you know it." Peggy told them as she cupped their face. "He was so proud of you and he just wanted you home safe. That was all he ever wanted." The two cried together as Y/N held onto her for dear life. "I love you so much baby."

Once the two had calmed down, Peggy went to get coffee as Wanda stood in the doorway. A gentle smile on her face as she watched Y/N look out of the window.

"Are you going to step in or stand there." Y/N stated emotionlessly.

"I missed you." Wanda told them as she sat beside them.

"Did you mean it?" They asked her as they finally looked at her. "When you said you love me. Did you mean it? I need you to mean it, because I only thought of the possibility of having a life with you. Marriage. Kids. Just the thought of you kept me going and I need you to mean it because I don't think I will survive if you didn't."

"I meant it then and I mean it now." Wanda told them. "I love you. I am in love with you Y/N. I mean it with my last breath." She caressed their face. "It's you and I forever."

"I love you so much Wanda. I always have." They whispered before Wanda kissed them with so much emotion. Everything she had wanted to tell them over time was poured into this one kiss. She was letting them know she will be by their side for the rest of their lives.

5 years later

Y/N stood nervously at the alter as Peggy smiled at them from her seat. Carol, one of their colleagues straightened out their suit with a reassuring smile.

"You will be fine." She told them as she fixed their tie. Y/N knew the moment they saw Wanda walk down the aisle that they were set for life. The love they felt for each other grew with each passing moment. The future set before them in the green irises of their love.

"Wanda, I have always known that it was always you and I until the very end. It just took you a little longer but I would wait lifetimes to be with you." Y/N smiled at her as they spoke. "I promise to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you can be. Give you the family you crave and the happy ending you have always wanted. I love you Wanda Maximoff."

"I'm sorry that I didn't realise sooner that you were always the one for me." She spoke softly. "Everyone else knew but myself. I ignored everyone thinking they were just teasing me because we're best friends, but they knew that we were always meant to be. They knew that sooner or later, our paths would intertwine and I couldn't be happier than I am right now. I love you so much Y/N and I promise to love you more with each passing moment." The two sealed the moment with a loving kiss. Feeling like the only two people in the world.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #elizabeth olsen #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

251 notes · View notes