#and especially of the guy laying on the hospital bed whos skin was full of blisters and literally falling apart

[undyinglantern]

maybe marathoning chernobyl last night wasnt such a good idea

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Ghost with a chronically ill darling

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about being ill & doctor visits, and medication.

A/N: I’m chronically ill, and when reading fics, I feel quite left out due to my conditions; because of it, I decided to write my own! Hope you guys can enjoy <3.

It makes him more emotional than what’s prepared for him. Starting fresh, he’s a soldier– a man of dignity and wants to help people. But when learning of your illness, whether that’s you telling him, or finding out for himself, he wasn’t prepared to find days when he can’t help; rather playing the ‘waiting game’. Simon has to learn that even with your illness, pain is normal — and it’s something he didn’t expect he’d be getting used to. 

While it makes him sad that you’re constantly in pain, it does make him feel a bit of sense of relief and pride; you can rely on him, Simon Riley only, and have him take you places where nobody should be doing. 

His large and calloused hands come with goodness, which means back-rubs, or any kind of massage you’ve asked for, will be delivered in full. Simon getting into your knotted muscles, kissing your tender skin. 

Simon is constantly hovering, and while he doesn’t mean to do it, he fears you’ll hurt yourself. The privilege of washing by yourself in the shower is taken away, but instead with him. 

Adores it when you ask him for things, especially for affection, or that cup of drink you had left on the counter once you sit down. He always ensures that he never gets annoyed, and no, he won’t get angry if you want him to save the cooked-food for later due to your extreme nausea; the beloved man of yours had promised to take care of you, better than anyone.

He’s always willing to carry you. When feeling fatigued, extremely nauseous where you can’t see straight, he hikes you up on his back or comfortably carrying you bridal-style, and sitting you in a comfortable place. And no, he doesn’t care if it happens in public. 

Routine is quite important — and he swiftly learned that from the start. In the early mornings, he has you up and ready by 9AM, helping you get dressed if needed, and helps take your medication with peppermint tea. His hand is rubbing your thigh in an affectionate sparse, supporting you with how you take it. Breakfast is served next, a good nutrient plate that’ll leave you full and maybe wanting a second plate. Then, move on reminding you of the doctor visits – easily driving you there with quiet music playing in the car. 

Speaking of doctor visits, Simon is extremely confrontational and can get aggressive towards doctors who give you the doubts, or any type of attitude that ends with ‘not believing you’. 

Nothing makes him angrier when it comes down to you being upset. He’ll bicker with the doctor, explaining that no you aren’t faking it, and yes, you’re in a lot of pain. Towards the end of the visit, his intimidating size and demanding threats end up working for the damn doctor(s) —  his eyes narrowing at them as they escort you for another checkup. And suddenly, within the next few days that pass, they’re gone.

Flareups are a hard thing, especially if it affects the way you walk, talk, or your very mind. With this said, Simon treats you like glass, insisting you rest, and you let him take care of you. He ensures to cuddle you, letting you use his arm as a pillow, creates warmed baths that he’ll help wash your body with, and is constantly reminding you of how attractive you are, even with a sweaty body. 

Hospital visits are annoying, and sometimes devastating. Laying down in the uncomfortable bed, continuous beeping of your vitals, and nurses walking in-and-out are exhausting. But, Simon is beside you, holding your hand and kissing it; whispering praises and asking if he can do anything to ease your boredom. Of course, he tries to ease your body aches with some horrible-but-good jokes. 

Leaving for work is the hardest part for him. Whilst he knows you can handle yourself, having been doing it most of your life, he still hates leaving you alone; ‘what if’ questions spiraling in his mind about accidents that could happen. 

Because of this, he often calls you — and leaves you text messages of “You doin’ okay?”, throughout the day when he can. And if you don’t answer? He gets really anxious, about ready to come back home to see you for himself. 

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚌. 𝚆𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚎?

Synopsis: After their very first mission as Defense Force Officers, Kagami and Soshiro promised to take care of each other when they got injured. That means taking the entire day/week off just to nurse them back to health. A few years have passed since then without any significant injuries, that's why it came as a surprise to Kagami when a certain someone came knocking at the First Division's front doors.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: I'm posting this first cuz jealousy, jealousy was hard to write hahaha. It might take long but i'll definitely be posting that later tonight. Don't worry cuz reading this first doesn't affect anything hehe. Also, I changed the synopsis so readers won't be confused hehe. Enjoy <3

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

A few years back, when Kagami and Soshiro were still in the same division, they made a promise to each other.

"You were pretty reckless"

Kagami scolded the purple haired guy laying on the hospital bed with a bandages on his legs. Her words, heavily laced with concern.

"I could say the same with you"

Soshiro side eyed the black haired girl who was laying on the hospital bed besides his own. Her injuries were as bad as his, with the bandages on her head instead of her legs.

Kagami just averted his gaze, focusing instead on the fruits basket placed atop the drawer besides them. She picked up an apple, along with a small knife and plate, and started cutting it.

Soshiro could only sigh at his fiancee's evasiveness, though it did bring back the smile on his face. It wasn't unusual for them to be injured during a mission given their line of work. Most of the time, they'll get a few minor scratches here and there but not enough to guarantee a hospital stay. He was glad she only required a few stitches and that there weren't any lasting effects to her head.

"That, I want mine cut into bunnies"

Soshiro noticed that she finished cutting and requested for her to style it into bunnies. Without question, she did just that. He watched as she struggled to peel only the skin and not the flesh, laughing when she failed to do so.

"It's not funny"

Kagami complained with a pout, knowing full well that her struggling gives him joy. She once again heard his chuckle as she successfully massacred another slice. She looked at the mess in front of her and frowned. Cutting things was easy but peeling them was harder, especially if it's as small as this apple.

She can't complain though, this was one of her duties as his future wife. She's been practicing for this her whole life yet continued to fail over and over again. It didn't mean she'll give up as she uses her failure as her drive to do better.

"Want me to do it?"

Soshiro offered his help, still smiling in amusement as she shook her head no. Every little things she does brings a smile on his face, even something as small as failing to peel an apple properly. He'd find her words and actions as funny no matter how she thinks it isn't. Her reactions are so amusing to him, causing him to not stop trying to tease her.

Thank goodness she was skilled enough not to cut her fingers though or else he would've snatched that knife faster than she could react. No way he'd allow her to be hurt on his watch. It was already unfortunate enough for them to be in different squads thus resulting in their current situation, had he known he would've done better.

"I'm done"

Kagami declared and ate the massacred apple slices by herself.

"Wait, wait! I thought that was for me?"

Soshiro tried to stop her from eating it all and not leaving some for him.

"It was... but it's ugly so I can't give it to you"

Kagami was kinda upset she didn't get to make apple bunnies properly so she decided to eat it as to not waste food.

"Feed it to me"

Soshiro, in all seriousness with open eyes, demanded she stop and feed it all to him. No way he's letting all her hard work go to waste. She cut and peeled it for him so he'll eat it no matter what.

"W-what?"

Kagami was surprised at his sudden demand. She couldn't resist him, especially not when he opens his eyes to show her how serious he is.

"I said feed it to me~"

With a mischevious grin, he was back to his foxy attitude. He opened his mouth in an 'ahhh', showcasing his want to be fed.

"Y-you can do it yourself!"

Flustered, Kagami tried to look away. Offering him the entire plate so he could eat by himself.

"But my legs are injured and I can't move"

His eyes were closed but how was it possible to see him making puppy eyes at her? Paired with that pout, a fox like him acted like a sad dog.

"You can move your hands though"

Resist. Resist the temptations Kagami! Do not move your hands! Stop moving your hands!

"Ahhh~"

Opening his mouth, Soshiro was successfully fed by the red faced Kagami. His purple eyes bore holes into Kagami's own as he teasingly licked his own lips as an expression.

"Yum~"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

"Excuse me but can you do your flirting elsewhere? The rest of us wants to sleep in peace"

A random officer mustered his courage to speak up. He tried to hide his flustered face by pretending to cough. The rest of the officer were looking away from them, red in the face, yet still nodded in agreement.

Kagami dropped the plate she was holding and teleported inside the blankets of her own bed. The plate of apples was fortunately caught by cackling Soshiro who was well aware of their audience.

Nobody said they were the only ones in the room hehe.

.

"Kagami? Why are you still here?"

Kagami, who was discharged yesterday, came back the next day to take care of her fiance.

"I took a day off"

"Why?"

Surprised by her actions, Soshiro couldn't help by ask why she would specifically ask for a day off when she's never done so before. Also, he was supposed to be discharged later today.

"I want to take care of you... because you're my fiancee"

"Then next time, I'll be the one to take care of you"

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

Whenever Soshiro visits the hospital, he thinks of that moment fondly. When they were still rookies, they would sometimes end up getting injured thus resulted in taking care of each other. Now that they were a bit more experienced, they no longer had to take care of each other in the hospital. It was better that way as it signifies that they were healthy and safe.

Still, as he reads the newspaper on his hospital bed, he couldn't help but let his mind wander in his wish to have his fiancee be there to take care of him. It was fine though, cause he didn't know how to break the news of him moving to the Third Division to her just yet. Also, he never really told her he got injured during his visit there.

When Captain Ashiro and Platoon Leader Ebina visited him earlier, he thought it was her. He was a bit disappointed but the offer they brought was enough to lift his spirits. He'd been wanting this for a long time. Someone who recognizes his efforts and need his strength. Somewhere he would be needed and not be treated like a tumor.

Kagami had always been by his side, supporting him, and finally there was someone else who believes in him like her. He wants her to join him there so they could leave the past and look forward.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a familiar head peek inside. Soshiro saw the face of the person he'd been expecting to see the whole time. His heart fluttered when he saw her after thinking about her like he manifested her visit.

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was a long line at the cafe so it took a bit too long to buy this"

She headed inside and showed him something she was hiding on her back. In her hands was a small box with a dessert inside.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. Mont Blanc!"

Kagami mirrored his excitement and confirmed his thoughts. She immediately prepared it for him, getting a plate and taking the dessert out of the box. She carefully placed it so as to not destroy its looks and offered it to him, which he accepted gratefully.

"By the way, I saw Captain Ashiro exiting the hospital earlier. Who do you think she visited here?"

Once she passed him the dessert, she took a seat at the chair beside him. He also took a bite before answering.

"Oh that, Remember how I went to the Third Division for a meeting? This and that happened and Captain Ashiro asked me to join the Third Division"

Soshiro recounted the story of what happened as soon as he got to the Third Division, the sudden appearance of a kaiju and how he helped with it, how he saved that kid and them being saved by Captain Mina, then the lastly, the offer given to him by the captain. Kagami attentively listened to his tales, reacting appropriately during significant parts. Soshiro greatly appreciates her lending an ear.

"Oh really? What was your answer?"

Finally, Kagami asked him what his answer to the offer was. It was something he had to prepare himself first before telling her as it was a big decision.

"I said yes"

Soshiro was filled with certainty at his decision. He didn't know how she'd react but he wanted to ask her to be with him as he moved too.

"Kagami, do you--"

Soshiro was cut off by an excited Kagami.

"Congrats! That's amazing! I knew there would be someone else who will recognize how great you are! I didn't think it would be THE Captain Ashiro Mina herself!"

She was so hyped up, so happy for him that he couldn't help but chuckle fondly. The tension he felt earlier disappeared and was replaced by fondness, feeling incredibly light.

"I'm sad that you'll be leaving but this is your chance to show the people from our division that they never should've underestimated you"

Her smile dropped once she thought that him moving was him leaving her alone. But still, she was smiling.

"Do you want to come with me? Captain Ashiro said her offer extends to you, as well"

Soshiro with greater courage now, seeing her smile drop, wanted to lift her spirits up. If he's moving to a better place, he wanted her to come with him too. At least they'll be together and won't be sad.

"Ehh? Really?? She's offering me to join the Third Division too???"

Surprised, Kagami couldn't believe her ears. Even her eyes as he nodded to affirm her words were true.

"Yeah, so what do you say?"

Soshiro turned back to his Mont Blanc to finally finish it as there only a few bites left. In doing so, he couldn't notice the storm brewing in Kagami's eyes.

"I'm sorry but I will have to decline"

Soshiro almost choked at her flat-out refusal. She offered him water in which he gratefully drank. He didn't think she'd refuse him like this. Sure she'd have doubts but usually she's agree with him.

"Why?"

Kagami took her time to answer and Soshiro found it hard to read her in that moment. Just when he started to think that something might be wrong, she looked him in the eyes with a determined expression.

"I also want to be recognized by my skills and not just because of goodwill. I want to prove myself to her so she'd be the one asking me to join herself"

While he didn't think she'd refuse him earlier, her explanation made a lot of sense. He'd refuse her too if it was him in her position. He only got this far because she and he believed in himself. They've both been doing their best to be the best version of themselves hoping someone will notice their efforts. So he wanted to believe she can do the same too.

"If it's you, I know you can do it"

Filled with the confidence that she shared with him, he ruffled her hair as they shared a hearty laugh.

They spent the entire day with each other. Kagami taking care of him until it was time to leave and Soshiro not wanting her to leave at all cuz he's such a baby when it comes to her. He didn't have to worry though cuz her days off lasted until he got better.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

True to her words, Kagami finally got someone else to see just what she is made of. While it may not be the captain of the Third Division that she caught the eye of, it was still a significant someone. That someone being the previous captain of the First Division and now the Director General of the Defense Force, Shinomiya Isao. It took a long time but she was finally there.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that being in the First Division was hard. With everyone exceeding expectations by being capable of eliminating honjus on their own, the stakes are really high. Especially for a recently promoted Platoon Leader like Kagami, who didn't know just when she'll be kicked out. She wonders why she got promoted at all despite there people being stronger than her in the First Division.

It also wasn't an exaggeration that the kaijus appearing near the Ariake Maritime Base were stronger than most. So when the new recruits in her squad finally had their first mission, she had to be more alert than ever. Cuz new recruits are prone to danger, like the one she just saved from accidentally killing himself. Unfortunately for her, being around danger means she's also prone to getting injured.

"I'm really sorry, Platoon Leader Uzui!"

The new recruit she saved once again bowed down in front of her. He was the reason her left arm is in a cast, letting it heal naturally. It was an accident where a hidden yoju suddenly appeared catching them off guard. Kagami chose to prioritize her subordinate's safety than hers which lead to the current situation.

The application of using the regenerative ability of the kaijus in medical treatments was still being researched and is currently in its experimental stages, thus making it exclusive only to Defense Force higher ups.

Being a Platoon Leader, Kagami was lucky enough to be able to take part in it. Instead of suffering from a mangled arm requiring surgery, the treatment made it possible for her arm to heal quickly by mending her broken bones. In the end, it is still required for her to heal naturally and not move it much.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe. I don't want my subordinates to get hurt under my watch"

Kagami reassured the officer in front of her by placing her right hand on his arm. The officer was overwhelmed by the kindness she's showing that caused him to be emotional.

"Platoon Leader..."

"If you're really sorry, make sure you work hard to get stronger from now on"

Knowing what she said wasn't enough to remove his guilt, she encouraged him to be better.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The soldier saluted and finally left her alone. Kagami was about to leave as well when Vice Captain Hasegawa approached her. She greeted him with a salute and he nodded in return.

"You are as kind as ever, Platoon Leader Kagami. I know you want to save as many people as possible but you should not sabotage your health"

He complimented her, referencing about her interaction with an officer. He also scolded her for getting injured badly in concern.

"My apologies, sir. Umm... Is there something wrong? Is Captain Narumi causing trouble again?"

She gave a sheepish smile knowing she'll do it again if it mean saving someone. Though she couldn't help but noticed the troubled expression on his face which only means one thing: Captain Narumi.

"Somewhat. It has something to do with your visitor"

"Eh?"

Captain Narumi was causing trouble because of her visitor? But she wasn't expecting anyone to come visit her? Also, she didn't understand why the Vice Captain himself would tell her the news.

"You'll understand soon enough. Follow me"

Noticing her confusion, Vice Captain Hasegawa led her to where Captain Narumi and her visitor were.

As they got closer to the meeting room, she could hear Captain Narumi's boisterous voice. It was so loud that she didn't have to strain her ears to know that it was him. And there was also a familiar laughter coming inside the room. There's no way...

When Vice Captain Hasegawa opened the door for them to enter, she finally understood why Captain Narumi was reacting that way. Her fiancee, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, was sitting in front of her Captain. His smug smile and foxy expression was clear enough for her to know that he's been teasing the guy the whole time.

"Vice Captain Hoshina?"

"Ahhh, you're here?"

Soshiro averted his gaze at his self-proclaimed rival to look at his fiancee, pointedly staring at her casted arm. His smile, straining a little bit with a frown.

"Today, I am here to request that Platoon Leader Uzui Kagami take a day off from work while she heals"

He finally revealed his intentions after seeing the two sitting down. Captain Narumi and Vice Captain Hasegawa were shocked at his request. They were expecting something else and didn't stop to think of such an absurd reason.

"Haaaa??? Who are you to ask for that with my Platoon Leader, haaa??"

Captain Narumi, having composed himself first grew more irritated. How could his rival talk for his Platoon Leader like that? His friend has a mind of her own and can request to rest by herself. He knew she was injured and wanted her to rest himself but having his rival demand that bring a bad taste to his mouth. It's not like he's forcing him to work, damn it.

"I'll say it in word you can understand. My fiancee is hurt and I demand you let her rest"

Fiancee?? They turned their heads to look at the blushing woman, embarrassed for being the source of this mess and the attention she's getting.

"Don't tell me you specifically came here just to ask that?"

She tried to compose herself by looking his way. Surely that wasn't the sole reason he came here?

"Of course, you wouldn't do so otherwise. Ah don't worry, I got permission to leave from Captain Ashiro so I could take care of you"

That's it. That's the end of her. How could he say such things so calmly in front of her superiors? She's sure as hell this would reach the ears of the whole division and they would not let her live it down. She couldn't even hide her face cause her free hand is too small to cover it.

"I have paperwork"

"That's fine. You can just bring it home and I'll help you"

Kagami can't do this anymore. Her superiors are digging holes into her and her fiancee's finds it too amusing to help her.

"Captain, Vice Captain, can I request for a leave until I heal enough to get back to work?"

Kagami asked for permission herself, trying to save herself despite it being a futile attempt. There's no stopping Soshiro when he's this stubborn.

"I'll grant you paid leave"

Vice Captain Hasegawa felt pity for his subordinate, who clearly want to bury herself in a hole, thus granting her wish.

"Thank you, sir"

Kagami stood up as fast as she could and left to go to her room. She ignore the curious glances thrown her way by confused onlookers, who rarely get to see her running and flustered.

Soshiro who was left inside the room stared at his rival, who was uncharacteristically quiet. He felt pity and at the same time doesn't for he knows what the male in front of him feels for his fiancee.

His phone vibrated indicating that he received a message.

"I'm heading down soon. Meet me at the lobby. Also, please stop torturing my Captain"

"Well then, i guess I'll have to leave now too"

Soshiro stood up and said his goodbyes and thanks as he pocketed his phone. He's looking forward to the spending the rest of the day, and the days after that with his fiancee.

<- Previous Next ->

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙11

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, angry Andy, hormones, awkward dinner, y’all know what it be.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Okay, here’s an update.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You wore a black dress, barely loose enough to fit over your bump as the hem floated high in the front. Your forehead beaded with sweat as you took out the heavy glass pan from the oven and puffed. You set it down and removed the lid as steam clouded out. You heard your father’s voice from the living room and Andy’s baritone response.

The night was smooth so far. Your father was particularly impressed by the autographed baseballs on the mantle but never outspoken, the conversation didn’t stray much from sports or cars. Your mother’s posture and expression betrayed her discomfort but she masked it with a cordial tone. You were thankful for it as you didn’t need to deal with her attitude and Andy’s at once. You were too hormonal and tired for that.

You began to take down plates from the cupboard and your mother’s voice sounded from behind you. She neared and reached up next to you as she grabbed the next plate before you could. She stacked the four of them neatly and grasped them in her knobby hands.

“You’re too pregnant for that,” she said, “you grab the silverware.”

You gave a small smile and turned to open the drawer as she left you. You took out the utensils and followed her into the dining room. You set the table and she returned to the kitchen. You came after her and she used a dishcloth to lift the hot pan.

“Get the door, will ya?” she said as she angled around carefully.

She passed you as you held open the swinging door and she set the pan down on the mat in the middle of the table. She inhaled deeply and glanced over at you. 

“Stuffed peppers?” she asked.

“Your recipe,” you said, “I’ve been craving them.”

“Next time, let me make them,” she smiled, “you still don’t know the special ingredient.”

“I’ll figure it out one day,” you rubbed your lower back.

“Sit,” she pulled out a chair, “I’ll go get the men.”

You neared her and leaned on the back of the chair, “mom,” you said quietly.

“I’m trying,” she said grimly, “I’m just… not happy yet.”

You nodded and hung your head, “yeah, you don’t have to be, but thank you.”

“I don’t like that man,” she hissed, “a wife in the hospital and he’s knocking up a stranger--”

“Mom,” you warned her, “please.”

“I know, I know,” she shook her head, “but you’re my daughter and he’s… I don’t know, who knows what really happened to the wife.”

You gave her a look and she pursed her lips. She retreated and you sat down heavily and cupped your cheeks. All you had to do was get through dinner. Then you could say you were tired and hide in your room.

You heard her voice in the next room and the impending footsteps before they appeared in the doorway. Your mother and father sat across from you and Andy took the seat to your right. You waited awkwardly and he cleared his throat.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you going to serve the guests?” he intoned.

“I can do it,” your mother offered, “don’t make her work any harder than she needs to. Not in her condition.”

You were slightly taken aback by her effort but you didn’t miss how the corner of her lip twitched as she eyed Andy. She didn’t like and didn’t trust him. You couldn’t say you did either and almost for the first time in your life, you felt a kindred connection to your mother.

She stood and scooped a pepper carefully onto each plate with a generous spoonful of sauce from the bottom of the dish. She set them back carefully before each diner and returned to her chair and sat. She smiled, a forced smile, and shifted her chair closer.

“So, you have some time but… once the baby’s here, I’m sure you’ll be back to work,” you mother began, your father always content to hide in his food, “me and your dad talked, we could watch the kid once and a while--”

“She’s not going back to work,” Andy interjected, “especially not at the diner.”

“Oh,” your mother’s lips pressed together in a firm line, “she isn’t?”

“Maybe after a year?” you began as you glance at Andy, “once I get the hand of things--”

“No,” Andy said, “you’re staying home with her.”

“I guess we haven’t decided,” you offered calmly, embarrassed by Andy’s attitude, “as you said, we still have time and we’re figuring stuff out.”

“Once the kiddo’s in school, you’ll have the time to get a job,” your dad offered, “that’s what your ma did. She kept on a few hours here and there when you were real small but once you hit kindergarten, she was back to full shifts.”

“We’ll talk,” Andy threw a hand up and grabbed his fork with his other, “it’s really not your business. It’s ours.”

“Andy,” you chided, “they’re just curious--”

“And where were they for the last couple months?” he snarled, “they weren’t so curious then.”

“Alright, calm down,” you hissed, “sorry, mom, dad--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” he snipped, “they should be apologising to you. That’s why I welcomed them into my home.”

“What?” you gulped, “Andy, they don’t need to--”

“No, no, my child is gonna have at least one set of grandparents and if it’s going to be them, they’re going to respect you and me,” Andy insisted, “so they can apologise or they can leave without dessert.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you uttered.

“Don’t you tell me how to act,” he cut into the pepper, “so…” he looked across the table at your parents, “she made this delicious meal and I think she deserves at least a little appreciation from the two of you.”

You dad looked angry for once in his life as your mother’s lips curled in mortification. You gave them both a shameful look and shook your head just slightly. You mouthed an apology as Andy huffed and tapped impatiently on the table.

“We’re sorry, honey,” your mother began, “we overreacted. Just like I said earlier, I was surprised.”

“Sorry,” your dad forced out as he glared at Andy, “you know I always love and support you, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, “now,” you touched Andy’s arm gently, “we can move on. It’s all good.”

“Mhmm,” he grumbled as he leaned forward to take a bike, “we can… but this doesn’t happen again.”

You wanted to shrink down and hide under the table. The tension that rose was palpable and threatened to choke you. You had false hope in the beginning that this might feel normal, that you might end the night with a new standing between you and your mother. 

You knew then that Andy’s goal had never been to bring you back together, it was only to gain another degree of control. He made it clear that no one could help you, not even your own parents.

🌙

You were almost thankful for the sink full of dishes. It kept you distracted and gave you a reason not to sit and stew with Andy. Your parents left shortly after you cut the cherry pie and you cleaned up as they bid their farewells. You were completely humiliated by Andy’s hubristic demands but you didn’t dare argue with him. Especially not in front of guests.

You scrubbed the dishes as your stomach pressed to the wet counter and placed each in the drying rack. Andy came in as you pulled the drain and you took the dish cloth from its hook.

“Here, I’ll dry,” he offered.

You stared at him and wiped the water from your hands and gave him the cloth. He went to the rack and opened a cupboard. You took out a container and began to pack up the leftovers from the pan and wrapped the top of the pie. The silence made every clink and clank louder as you moved around the kitchen.

You shut the fridge and sensed him behind you. You flinched as his hands settled on your hip and you gripped pressed your palm against the cool metal. He pulled you back against him and slid his hands around your bump as he hummed.

“Did I tell you this dress looks wonderful?” his fingers brushed the dishwater along the front.

“Andy,” you grasped his wrists, “what are you doing?”

He rocked you as one hand grazed beneath your bump and his fingers dangled over your vee. He bent and inhaled the scent of your scalp. You went rigid as he wiggled against your back, his arousal twitching tellingly.

“Andy, please--”

“Can’t knock you up a second time,” he purred.

“I… no, please, I’m tired--”

“Come on, honey, that night… wasn’t that amazing?” He turned you to face the island and you caught yourself against the edge, “that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“It was a mistake, alright? Look at us now--”

“Look at us, hmmm?” he pushed his hand down and cupped your cunt through your dress. You gasped and squeezed his wrist, “I lay in my bed thinking of you all night… and you’re just across the hall. Why are we playing this game still?”

“Get off of me, please,” you begged, “Andy--”

He pressed his fingers to your pants and pushed the cotton against your folds. You bit your lip as he found your clit and the chafing formed a pressure beneath his touch. You shook your head and leaned back into him, trying to shove him away.

“Let me go…” you breathed.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” he urged, “I can feel you getting wet already. You’re lying to yourself.” He pulled your panties aside and dipped two fingers between your lips, “why do you gotta be so damn stubborn?”

You sucked in air and tensed as he played with your bud so that your thighs quivered. You tucked your chin in and bit down as you tried not to let out a moan. Your nails sank into sleeve but he kept on. You felt how powerful he truly was, his chest pressed against you as his arm remained immoveable.

He bent you slightly as he snaked his hand further and poked a finger inside of you. You squeaked and he added another, curling them as he began to rock his hand. He buried his face into your neck and his hot breath permeated your skin.

“Mmm, isn’t that nice, honey? I just wanna help you relax?” his teeth grazed your neck, “I can be nice, you see?”

Those words turned your blood to ice. You closed your eyes as you returned to those hours ago when his fist crashed into the wall. When his voice was rigid and unloving, when you were certain he would do worse than just yell. Now he was all over you, coaxing you as if it never happened, as if there hadn’t been months of this precarious tug-of-war.

“Andy, really, I’m tired,” you pleaded, “that night… I told you--”

Your voice caught in your throat as he thrust his fingers deeper and moved his hand faster. The pressure throbbed inside of you, pulsing through your veins and you kept your hand tight on the counter as you gripped his arm with the other. Your ankles threatened to bend as you shuddered and came in a sudden rush.

“Tired?” he mocked as he led you through your climax, “I’ll do all the work, honey.”

You shook your head and whined through your teeth. He kept on until you were weak and clinging to his hand. He slowly drew his fingers out of you and slid his arm out from around you. You slumped against the counter as he let you go, the subtle tinkle of his belt gleaned in your ear.

You turned to him as his belt hung open and he caught you by surprise. He wrapped one arm around your back, his other hand across your ass as he lifted you with a grunt. You threw your hands back to keep from falling across the island as he put you down on the marble. You tried to slide forward as his hands grasped your hips and held you in place.

His blue eyes burned and dilated. He reached under your skirt and pulled your panties down. You whimpered as he tugged them down. He quickly pushed your legs apart and moved between them, your knees wide around his thighs. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head back, his lips covering yours hungrily.

You clawed at the front of his shirt as his other hand danced along your pelvis. His fingers crawled down your thigh and she shifted as he fumbled blindly with the front of his pants. You pushed against his shoulders as the panic erupted from your stomach and swelled in your throat.

He brought you closer to the edge and pulled his hand back to grip himself. You opened one eye as you tried to peek down but couldn’t see beneath your bump. He leaned on you until you fell over the marble and bent over you as he slipped his tip along your cunt. His lips strayed to your cheek and down to your throat.

“Andy,” you begged one last time as he pressed against your entrance.

He purred against your neck as his hand slid past your shoulder and stretched over your tit. He pushed into you slowly and you gulped as tears pricked in your eyes. You bent your legs so your heels pressed to the side of the counter and gritted your teeth as he got deeper. 

As he bottomed out, he rasped against your skin. He stood up straight and dragged your ass over the edge of the counter. He puffed his chest as he thrust into you and his eyes rolled back. He growled as he did it again and your walls clenched around him. Your reached down and pressed on his open pants with your fingertips, trying to push him away pathetically.

“Andy,” you whimpered as he hooked his arm around your thigh, “Andy--”

His other hand flipped up your skirt and he stretched his hand over your round stomach as he rocked into you. You shook your head and covered your face with one hand as you gripped the edge of the marble with your other. Your breaths grew shallow as you fought your own body and the pleasure blooming around his intrusion.

He sped up as the wet noise filled the kitchen and you bit the heel of your hand to keep from crying out. Another orgasm flowed over you and knotted your muscles around him. His groans and grunts grew louder as his flesh slapped against yours, his fingers drawing circles on your stomach.

“Oh fuck,” Andy hissed and jerked his hips harshly.

He sank into you as deep as he could go and wiggled his hips as he flooded you. He twitched as he leaned his head back and sighed, his fingers tight on your thighs as they painfully poked your tender flesh. You moaned and trembled as you felt his release hot inside of you. 

He stilled and let your legs splay around him. You stared at the ceiling in shock as he shuddered. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked between your legs as his cum dripped out around him. You pulled off of him and shoved him away. He seemed to awaken from a trance as you did and his lashes fluttered.

You dropped down carefully to your feet and stormed away. He called your name but the vomit was already halfway up your esophagus. You weren’t going to make it upstairs. You closed yourself in the half-bath under the stairs and wretched into the sink. You held yourself up weakly until the violent ripples quelled. You looked at yourself in the mirror and winced. 

One night cost you the rest of your life. One night meant your body, your soul, your days were his. One night would be countless nights, your fate decided in a single careless act.

[itsallyscorner]

Ik someone else already asked for like a delivery part (and honestly, that would be amazing. Like imagine the girls reacting to Baby Mix casually dropping it in their chat). But, also imagine Tom and Y/N haven’t released anything to the public and Perrie (my loose-lipped queen) let’s it spill over a virtual interview or something, how chaotic would that be????

Anyway, I truly loved your Baby Mix stories. You’re combining two of my favourite things so effortlessly. Thank you💜💜💜

Hello my love! So sorry for the long wait, I hope you don’t mind! Thank you for requesting this and being so patient with me❤️ I’m so glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix reader! stories🥰 I haven’t written a delivery part yet but I already had an idea of how I wanted to write this so...here ya go! Happy reading🤎🧸

💌.

Meet Aunty Pez

She would be the best aunty in the world, ugh🥺 Also I’m so sorry I haven’t been active, school has been keeping me busy, but hopefully it’ll ease up soon! Sending all my love to all of you💞

At 3:14am, on an early Monday morning, the bundle of joy that you and Tom have been waiting nine months for has finally arrived. After hours of enduring pain and labor, Amelia May Holland was born. Weighing at 7.5 lbs, she had the same bright chocolate colored eyes as her father, gorgeous brown hair, a mix of your and Tom’s nose, and thankfully she inherited your lips. She was a precious little thing, always cradled in the arms of either of her parents, since they both couldn’t believe she was finally in the real world with them.

The sun casted soft rays of light into the hospital room you and your little family occupied. The warm light added to the peaceful atmosphere you were all currently in. You were sat against the hospital bed, cradling Amelia in your arms, while you and Tom stared at her in fascination. You lean your head against Tom’s shoulder, eyes never leaving your baby girl, who’s nose momentarily scrunched up.

Softly chuckling, you glance at Tom, “Not even a day old and she’s already doing a habit of yours.” The gentle smile grows even wider on Tom’s lips, a sense of pride rushing through his veins.

“Well she’s definitely her father’s daughter.” He hums, his arm around your shoulder pulls you flush against his chest. Tom hides his face in the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses onto your skin trailing down to your shoulder, where he rests his chin.

“I can’t believe we made her. Isn’t she the most gorgeous baby in the world?” He speaks in a hushed voice, cautious of startling his newborn daughter awake. He gazes at Amelia with a fond expression on his face, large fingers gingerly reaching out to softly stroke the back of his baby’s hand. She’s only been here a few hours and she’s already wrapped him around her dainty little fingers. He would go to extreme measures to do anything for her and to make sure she lived the best life she can. She was to be treated like a princess in his eyes; because she was his princess and you’ve been bumped up to be his queen.

“She’s all we’ve ever wanted.” You turn to face Tom over your shoulder. The whole morning, ever since you gave birth, the two of you spent most of the time admiring Amelia and would burst into tears at how proud you were of each other. Not only had you both just made the most precious baby in the world, but this was a new chapter in your lives. A new experience of life with a stronger bond, full of love, and years of memories that’ll be looked back on in the future.

Tom shifts his gaze to you, the look in his eyes changing to adoration. He tenderly kisses your lips, repeating the actions a few more times before speaking. “Thank you so much for this. Thank you for being an amazing wife and giving me a family. I love you so, so, so, so, much. You have no idea.” He brushes his nose against yours, shutting his eyes, to savor the meaningful moment.

“I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else but you. You’re gonna be such an amazing dad.” You beam at him. Tom softly chuckles, leaning his forehead against your temple, “God, I hope.”

“You will, you’ll be the best one in her eyes. I already know it.” You reassure him, pecking the corner of his mouth. You turn your attention back to Amelia, who was still sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“So when should we tell everyone?” Tom asks, resting his chin on your shoulder again. You lean the back of your head against his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his arms.

“I think we should tell our family and friends first. I’m not ready to share her to the public yet, I want her to only be ours for now.” You quietly explain. You feel Tom smile against your skin.

“Of course, darling. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, that’s what we’ll go with.”

(Y/n)🌻: sent a photo

We thought Amelia might want to pop in and say hello to her favorite aunties for the first time!❤️

Perrie🦋: oh my goodness! Congratulations🥳🥳 I’m over the moon for the both of you!!

Oh she’s precious! Look at those cheeks!! I can’t wait to meet her🥺

Jade💜: OMG WE SHARE THE SAME NAME!!

I’m so happy for you and Tom!! You guys are going to be the most amazing parents in the world!❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Baby Amelia, you are the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen!!!😍 Babe, you and Tom have some really good genes👀

Congrats you two!! I’m so proud of you both❤️❤️❤️

Jesy💖: Thank god Amelia got (y/n)’s genes for her lips!!😂😂 I can’t imagine another loose-lipped Holland!

I’m so happy for you guys!! I can’t believe you’re already a mum, darling🥺 We love you so much and can’t wait to see you and Baby Amelia❤️

(Y/n)🌻: You guys🥺🥺 I can’t wait to see you all and get out of this hospital! This bed isn’t doing anything for my back😭

Perrie🦋: You must be so exhausted lovey, how are you doing? I hope everything went well during delivery!

(Y/n)🌻: Very painful, I felt like I was about to pass out omg😭 The doctor kept on telling me to push, I didn’t know if I was shitting myself or pushing the baby out😭

Tom’s been amazing the entire time. Bless him, I think I broke his hand while I was pushing :(

Jesy💖: Omg!! What was Tom’s reaction to childbirth?!!

(Y/n)🌻: If you thought he couldn’t get even paler, you thought wrong! He was as white as the walls in the room😭😭 He was a good sport through it all though!

Also, Amelia’s crying. I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you girls soon!! And good luck with the interview today, you guys are gonna smash it xx

Perrie🦋: Don’t worry about us! You’re officially on maternity leave now! We’ll send your regards for the interviewer❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Look at our baby mama! We love you❤️❤️❤️

Jade💜: Say hello to baby Amelia and that Aunty Jade loves her🥰

Jesy💖: ^Kiss ass, she’s not even a day old and the competition for best Aunty has already begun smh.

Bye darling, we’ll catch up with you soon❤️

You smiled at your screen before turning it off and placing it onto the table beside your bed. Tom was pacing the room, cradling Amelia against his chest. He was gently rocking her back and forth, alternating from shushing her to humming some sort of tune underneath his breath. You sat back and admired the curly headed boy that’s claimed your heart. Not only was he the love of your life but he was also the father of your child. Sure you guys were young, both in your late 20s, but the daddy role definitely fit Tom perfectly.

Tom must’ve felt your stare because he turned around and sent you a tired smile. He walked towards your bed and motioned for you to lay down. Using one had to cradle Amelia, he used the other to help you get comfy in the hospital bed. Still with one hand, he fixed your hair on the pillow so that it was away from your face. His large calloused hand cradled your jaw, “Get some sleep, darling. I know how tired you are.”

You pouted at him, “But what about Amelia?” He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll try and get her to sleep. You just close your pretty eyes and get some rest in.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep, then I’ll wake you up. Just please get some sleep, love. You haven’t taken a proper nap since this morning and I know you’re already close to knocking out.” He reasoned with pleading eyes. You sigh finally giving in, lazily nodding in response. Tom beams at you and leans down to place a tender kiss onto your lips.

“I love you both.” You mumble against his lips. He pecks your lips once more, “And we love you too, mummy.” The moment you closed your eyes, you were out like a light.

You managed to take a nap for about half an hour until you felt a few pats on your shoulder. You were immediately awake, turning your head to look for Amelia. You looked at the hospital bassinet, where you could see her sleeping peacefully.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Tom. He was sat beside your bed with his phone held in his hand watching something.

“I’m so sorry for waking you, but you should see this.” He apologized with a pitiful smile. He scoots closer to the bed so you can look at the screen. Your brows furrow together in question as you stare at Tom; it was the girls’ interview.

“Just watch.”

“Hello ladies! Thank you for joining me today!” The interviewer started. A round of “hellos” and waves were seen on the recorded Zoom session.

“Thank you for having us!” Leigh-Anne said.

“Yeah, it’s always a pleasure to be on your show, Zach.” Jade gushed. Zach made a show of flattery making them all laugh.

“I mean I guess I should start by asking how are all of you?”

Jesy was the first to answer, “I’d say we’re all doing pretty good, aren’t we girls? You know—just trying to get by especially with all that’s going on in the world.”

Perrie agreed, “Yeah, we’re lucky enough to be healthy and have the privilege to work. So I’d say we’re very blessed and making the best out of situation.”

“That’s great for you girls. AND speaking of making the best of the situation, thank you for giving us entertainment! I’ve been watching The Search and I’m absolutely obsessed.” Zach began, complimenting the show. He continued, “Although I did notice, that there’s only four of you at the moment, and in the show. How is it like to not have (y/n) around?”

Jesy pouted, the other girls having familiar reactions at the lack of your presence.

“As much as we miss her, it’s best for her and the baby to stay home and away from the public. When it comes to your career or family; family comes first, so it was totally understandable.” Jesy explained.

Jade chirped in, “Well, she’s not completely missing out. She’s had a few virtual appearances on the show and we’ve all been in contact, we always know what she’s up to.”

“How’s she doing? With the baby preparations and all?” Zach asked the girls. Their faces immediately brightened with joy, especially Perrie how squealed and clapped her hands in delight.

“Oh she’s doing wonderful, we were just texting her! She’s officially on maternity leave!” Perrie cheered. On the screen, Jesy eyed Perrie warily.

“Officially on maternity leave?”

Perrie smiled widely, “Yes, she is! She sent us a photo of the baby in our group chat and my goodness! Their baby is so cute, I just want to pinch her little cheeks!”

The three other girls’ eyes widened at the things coming out of Perrie’s mouth too stunned to say anything.

Zach squinted at Perrie, “Wait she’s already had the baby?”

“PERRIE!”

“Yeah, today actually.” The blonde answered proudly.

“PERRIE SHUT UP!”

“STOP TALKING!”

Perrie stopped, looking at the three girls offendedly, “What?”

“Oh my god, she did not.” Leigh-Anne facepalmed herself. Jade’s jaw was slack and Jesy’s eyes were wide with horror.

“Babe, do you know what you just did?” Jesy questioned Perrie, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in stress.

You paused the video, taking in what just happened.

Tom eyed you carefully, “Your phone’s been blowing up consistently. Pez even called me to apologize, she feels really bad (y/n).”

You frowned knowing that Perrie was most likely upset at herself. You’ve been friends with Perrie for years now. It was common knowledge amongst you and the girls that if something big and secretive were to happen, you were to never tell Perrie. Not that you all wanted to leave her out on propose, she just didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. When Perrie found things that made her happy or excited, she didn’t know how to contain her happiness. So it wasn’t completely a surprise to learn she’s told the world you and Tom were finally parents.

Tom noticed that you were still quiet, “Are you mad, darling?”

You shook your head, “No—no, I’m not mad at her. I know Perrie can get too excited sometimes.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Tom asked you, knowing that just an hour ago you said you wanted to keep Amelia away from the public. His hand reaches for yours, grasping it.

You tilted your head at the ceiling, “Yeah, I guess I am? I mean it’s not like she said Amelia’s name or anything. All she told them was that I gave birth already.” You paused and turned to look at Tom.

“Plus, I think she’s saved us the trouble of figuring out how to tell the world about Amelia.” You send him a smile. He reciprocates the action and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “We don’t have to tell them anything more. All they have to know is that you’ve given birth and our little princess is healthy. Also that we’re very happy. The rest of the details will only be for us. For now.”

“For now.” You confirmed squeezing his hand. You glanced at your phone and motioned for Tom to give it to you. Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on Perrie’s name, “I guess we should call her and thank her.”

You clicked on the FaceTime icon and not even a second later, Perrie immediately answered the call.

“I am so sorry.” She apologized, hand covering her face. You chuckle at her and shake your head, “We’re actually calling you to thank you Pez.”

Her face contorts into confusion, “What do you mean thank me? I just exposed the two of you during a live interview.”

Tom poked his head into frame, “Well one, you’ve announced that Amelia’s here already, so that’s one thing off our list. And two, you just saved me months worth of relief during interviews. Now that everyone knows we have a baby, I don’t need to be scared of accidentally slipping it out when I have to do promos!”

The blonde looked between both you and Tom I’m disbelief, “Are you kidding me? If I knew you two would’ve responded this way I wouldn’t have been spending the last hour beating myself up for it.”

You laughed smiling at her. Perrie beamed at the both of you, “For just delivering a baby, you look gorgeous hun. You’re glowing.”

“Aw thank you, lovey.” You look at Amelia from the corner of your eye. “Do you wanna see her?” Perrie eagerly nods at the camera. Tom takes the camera and rounds your bed to the bassinet. Aiming the camera above Amelia he said, “Amelia, meet Aunty Pez.”

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[ody3baby]

Eddie falling asleep with his head in Buck's lap or on his thigh as maybe Buck's looking down at him-? I don't know take it from pls. there

A/N: I know you completely forgotten about this prompt but I'm still sorry it's taken me so long lol.

That being said, thank you so much for the prompt anyways :)

ao3 version here

----

"Are you okay?" Buck asked as Eddie wiggled ever so slightly in his seat for what felt like the millionth time. 

"I'm fine." Eddie answered also for the millionth time. 

The blond rolled his eyes. This was getting out of hand. 

"Eddie." He gave his best friend, who was stubbornly staring ahead and pretending to watch the cartoon that Christopher had enthusiastically picked, a pointed look before sofly kicking his ankle. 

The other man jerked and swivelled his head to meet Buck's gaze. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Eds, you're hurting." 

Eddie huffed a quick, "I'm fine." 

Before he could protest Christopher chimed in from his current spot on the floor against the couch that he moved to earlier after being tired of bumping into his dad whenever they moved at the same time. "Daaaaad." He started to say before letting out an exasperated sigh that made him seem like an actual teenager and not just a pre-teen. "You're hurt."

Eddie opened his mouth to protest but then closed it before letting out a sigh of defeat. "My shoulder is just aching a little from sitting on the couch for too long. It's not that big of a deal."

Both Buck and Chris shared a long-suffering look, used to the older Diaz's stubbornness but still a little exasperated from having to deal with it more frequently the past few weeks. Although, they'd didn't complained because as long as Eddie was still alive that was all that mattered. 

"Eds," Buck began to tell him in a soft voice, "do you need to lay down?"

It was Eddie's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm fine." He repeated with emphasis. "I've been in that damn bed enough these past few weeks to last a lifetime."

"Eddie." Buck told him sternly, knowing that if Eddie was showing discomfort and talking about his shoulder bothering him then it must've really been hurting him and he didn't want his best friend to exasperate the wound and hurt even more.

"Buck." Eddie mocked.

"Donkey!" Christopher exclaimed, breaking the tension. 

The two men blinked at each other, looked at the ten year old who started to giggle, then looked back at each other before starting to laugh as well. 

After a few moments of laughter, Buck let out a soft sigh. "Eddie, I'm serious. If you need to, I can help you to bed."

His best friend gave him a fond smile which wasn't until recently that Buck had realized the full effect it had on him. "I know. And thank you for caring, like you always do. But it's almost Chris' bedtime anyways and I want to spend as much time with you guys out here as possible."

Buck sighed, always ending up giving in to Eddie. It had taken his best friend getting shot for him to realize exactly why he had that effect on Buck. "I know you do." He said ever so softly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so overbearing. It's just..." He paused. 

"We worry about you." Christopher finished for him, patting his father's leg as he gave him a serious look. 

Eddie smiled down at his son. "I don't want you to worry, Mijo. That's my job."

"But dad, we do worry. It's what family does."

Eddie's smile brightened. "Well when you put it that way..." He then began to tickle his son, who's giggles echoed happily throughout the living room. 

However, the older Diaz could only tickle for a second or so before wincing in pain, although he did a pretty good job of hiding it. But Buck could tell how much his best friend was hurting. He always could. 

"Okay, that's it." Buck announced, moving closer to the end of the couch until his left side hit the arm. He then patted his thigh. "Come on."

Eddie's eyes widened ever so slightly, making Buck realize the innuendos that motion caused. 

He then cleared his throat. "Lay your head on my lap." 

Yeah that didn't sound quite better either. 

Buck then quickly added. "So you can finish the movie with me and Chris and be at least somewhat more comfortable."

Eddie gave him that small yet fond smile once more, eyes slightly widened as he looked at him in what seemed to be in awe. 

The blond shifted in his seat. "What?"

His best friend cleared his throat. "Nothing." His eyes then fell toward Buck's lap before travelling back to meet his gaze. "Are you sure?"

Buck rolled his eyes before patting his thigh again. "Of course. Come on, we're missing all the good parts."

Eddie's smile widened as he proceeded to lay down on the couch, his back against the cushions as his head tilted slightly to see the movie. 

Trying to help him be as comfortable as possible, Buck went to delicately rest his arm around Eddie's side so his bad shoulder could have more support. 

They surprisingly got settled in comfortable positions rather quickly as Christopher gave them a bright smile before turning his attention back on the tv and proceeding to rewind the little bit that they missed.

They watched the cartoon in a peaceful silence besides the laughter coming from all three of them at different points. It didn't take long for Buck to subconsciously begin to to rub small, soothing circles on Eddie's arm with one hand and softly run his fingers through Eddie's hair in the other. 

His best friend hitched a breath at first at the touch, which made Buck about to stop his small movements. But before he could, Eddie sunk further in the blond's hold, and let out a moan of contentment. 

"Hmmm. That's nice." He muttered, shifting his head ever so slightly so he could softly rub his nose against Buck's thigh, like a cat who was enjoying a head rub. 

And wow, okay. This was new. 

Though Buck could add it up to the list of small yet new and slightly alarming - but in a good way - things that Eddie had done since coming home from the hospital.

For a man who had gotten shot in broad daylight and almost… died, Eddie had surprisingly been... lighter in a way.

Even while he was struggling with dealing with having to only use one arm and needing other's help since Eddie always had a hard time asking for help. But at least with Buck he had been more open about it, more willing to tell the blond what he needed. Even though there were still plenty of times where Buck had to guess and not be told Eddie's needs, like just a few minutes prior. 

But, whenever Eddie would ask Buck for help and the blond immediately said "Of course" or when Buck gave him exactly what he needed at the moment without being asked, no matter what Eddie would always give him that fond smile. 

Buck had noticed it before that fateful day, but there was something about those fond looks that sorta...grew afterwards. A certain openness that always took his breath away. 

And then of course there were those lingering touches that Eddie had given him countless of times as well. 

Sure, Buck had been helping him with his PT exercises so of course they'd be touching a lot. But it wasn't just then. Like whenever Buck would hand Eddie something and their fingers would graze each other. Or whenever Eddie needed to walk pass Buck and his hand would press on his back for a moment. It was used to be where the touch would only last a milisecond but now it'd just linger there for a few secondw too long. In fact, whenever they'd accidentally touch - and that had been happening a lot in these past few weeks - Eddie would always just… linger there. And whenever he'd finally move away, he didn't look bashful or embarrassed or anything like that. No. He'd just give Buck this lingering, secretive smile that always made his stomach flutter, before going back to what he was doing and acting like he didn't just almost give Buck a heart attack with all of the palpitations that he caused. 

However, Buck would just try to tell himself that he was just overreacting and that it was just because his feelings for his best friend had been present more than ever and hard to keep in since the incident. That Eddie had always acted like that because they were best friends and close and that was what they did. Nothing changed except Buck temporarily moving in to help out which made everything seem more intimate than it really was. 

That was it. Nothing less. Nothing more. 

Well...besides the fact that Eddie had apparently put Buck in his will as Christopher's guardian if something were to happen to him. A fact that Eddie had kept to himself for a year. Something that Buck may or may not still be reeling from during these past few weeks. Especially as he and the Diaz boys had fallen into this somewhat domestic bubble that Buck kept trying to convince himself that it was just temporary as Eddie recovered. 

And it worked. For the most part. 

However, it had been more and more difficult for Buck to convince himself of it when it came to moments like his current one. 

With the way Eddie didn't second guess to lay on Buck's lap after getting the okay and proceeding to sink further into the touch. Eddie's little moans and noises of contentment as Buck continued his gentle movements. 

And...did Eddie's lips just gently graze the skin on Buck's thigh where his shorts rode up?

That...that had to be a mistake right? 

Because, sure, there had been moments here and there where it really felt like they were gonna kiss before one or both of them pulled away. But, again, this was all mostly likely in Buck's head. 

Right?

Daring to look down at Eddie, he noticed how his eyes were now closed as his breathing had gotten more even. It seemed like Eddie had fallen asleep, looking more peaceful than Buck had seen him in a long time. 

His heart was beating loudly in his chest, as his stomach tightened while every fiber in his being lightened up like they were on fire. Buck hitched a breath. He couldn't take it. His love for his best friend encompassed him. 

Every night he had nightmares of that day. Of the absolutely devastating fear of losing Eddie. Buck had never been more terrified in his life. But it were moments like this current one where Buck thanked the universe with everything he had that Eddie was here. That he was alive and breathing. That even after getting shot and dealing with the traumatizing struggle of his recovery, Eddie still seemed lighter. More open and sure of himself in a certain vulnerability that Buck had never seen on him before. Like a certain puzzle piece had clicked. And even when there were days where Eddie had been frustrated and angry and just flat out stubborn with his recovery, that lightness had still somehow been there, keeping him grounded. 

Eddie was alive. Eddie was getting better. And as he did, Buck was going to continue to be with him as much as possible. 

And even though his recovery was going to take a long time between the physical therapy and his therapy for his PTSD, and it was still gonna be a long and hard road, there were still moments where Eddie was happy. Happier than Buck had seen him in a long time even. 

Moments like these where it was just Eddie, Buck, and Christopher, being together. 

And Buck? Buck could live in these moments forever. As long as he had Eddie and Christopher then he'd be okay. 

At that thought he looked away from the sleeping man in his lap to check on Chris. The kid was now laying on the soft carpet, head on one of the couch pillows, now fast asleep just like his dad. 

His two Diaz boys. Who had both gone through so much more than anyone should in a lifetime and now were both sleeping happily, with small smiles both on their faces. 

Buck's heart clenched in his chest.

Now this? This was what pure happiness felt like. 

He then looked back down at the soft expression on Eddie's face as his best friend slept soundly. 

Buck couldn't take it anymore. 

Sure this was a very bad idea, but his heart felt like it was going to rip out of his chest. His love for the best friend he'll ever have was just too much. 

And so, in a moment of weakness, Buck leaned his head down and kissed Eddie's forehead, lingering there for a few seconds or so before whispering in a hushed tone, "I love you."

Eddie's head shifted ever so slightly which made Buck immediately rip his hand away. 

His best friend's eyes slowly fluttered open before meeting his gaze. 

And there it was. That fond look yet again. But this time it was brighter than Buck had ever seen it before.

Eddie smiled up at him, "I love you too."

And just like that Buck finally knew what that missing puzzle piece Eddie had seemed to find. Because he was now feeling it too as everything fell into place.

Not being able to contain himself anymore, Buck leaned down and placed a small yet emotional-filled kiss on Eddie's lips. His best friend returned the kiss with as much vigor. 

After Buck lifted his head up ever so slightly, he placed his forehead against Eddie's as they smiled softly at each other. 

Yeah, he could get used to this.

[magniloquent-raven]

more trans billy fic! read my first two here and here (not necessary for context, but they are technically a series)

(cw: talk of past suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt)

~~

billy's never been with anyone who didn't ask about his scars.

if it wasn't their opening line—fake concerned bullshit, trying to get in his pants by pretending to care, it only worked on the days he was feeling especially low—it would always come up later. some people's idea of good pillow talk. like the fact that they'd stuck their dick in him meant they were entitled to his life story or something.

once, a guy made it a whole three weeks before he asked. he'd picked the dude up at a bar and kept around because he was good with his hands. then kicked him to the curb because he was shit at minding his own business.

everyone seems to think him wearing low-cut shirts that leave the twisting ropes of scar tissue over his heart on full display means they're allowed to pry.

everyone except steve.

they knew each other for months before they started dating, and he never brought it up. and now. he's seen all of billy's scars and he hasn't asked about a single one.

and billy's starting to wonder if he wants him to.

they're laying in bed together one morning, the sun streaming in through half-drawn blinds, dappled on the bedspread and lighting up the honey coloured highlights in steve's hair.

hair that's tickling billy's nose, but he can't bring himself to move. not when steve is so comfortably draped across his chest, breath warm against his collarbone, fingertips absently trailing up and down, caressing his side.

another first for billy, truth be told. he didn't date much before steve—wasn't really the boyfriend type—and the people he did date never did this. never wanted to just...exist together in an easy silence, sharing soft touches with no intent.

it should make him antsy, the stillness, the quiet, but he's found himself enjoying the lie-ins just as much as the mornings he coaxes steve awake with lazy kisses and a thigh pressed between his legs.

on really good days he gets both.

but today...today steve's lips trail down billy's chest, following the sunburst lines of scar tissue, and. billy stops him. with a hesitant hand on steve's shoulder. and steve looks up at him, a question in his wide brown eyes.

"you've never asked," he says after a moment, holding steve's gaze but shifting nervously.

"asked?...if you want to—oh god, did you not want me to—shit, billy, if you aren't in the mood you can just say so, i—" steve starts to pull away, scrambling, looking absolutely mortified, but billy shakes his head immediately and pulls steve back to his side wrapping his arms around his waist.

"not about that, jesus."

a relieved sigh ruffles his curls, and steve relaxes into his embrace, "alright, then...what?"

billy chews the inside of his cheek. "the scars, steve. you're not even a little curious?"

there's a pause. "what? i mean, i thought, uh...guys like you usually get, like, surgery right?"

"...you thought—" billy chokes on a strangled noise that's almost a laugh. "what, that i got my tits hacked off with a chainsaw or something?"

steve snorts against his shoulder, smushing his face further into the crook of billy's neck with a groan, "maybe? shut up. i dunno how it works, okay. didn't figure it was polite to ask." he shifts his weight around, wriggling into a position that lets him look at billy's face without detangling their limbs.

"ahh, country club etiquette, shoulda known." billy smirks at steve's eyeroll. "next time just ask, baby."

"okay." he worries at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, gaze darting between billy's face and his chest. he puts a hand over the worst of the scarring, palm flat over billy's sternum. "so..." his voice is soft, suddenly, hesitant, "what happened?"

he expects regret. irritation at himself. shame. he expects to feel himself closing off, second guessing his decision to invite the questions. but.

he covers steve's hand with his own. lets out a breath. lays there and feels nothing but the warmth of steve's body next to his, and a slight twist of trepidation in his gut.

"i was kind of. a fucked up teenager," he starts, and grimaces. "used to jump into any fight i could find. and when i was eighteen...i stumbled across...something. all i know is there was some little girl about to get kidnapped or worse, and i. well. i blacked out most of it, but. she got away. and i woke up in a hospital a few days later all..." he pauses, and gestures vaguely at his chest. "and there were all these people tellin' me it was a fuckin' miracle i survived, but..."

his blinks away the tears threatening to fall, turning from steve's wide-eyed concern, but steve puts a gentle hand on his cheek and guides him back. "but what?" he murmurs, brushing curls away from billy's face.

but he never wanted to wake up in the first place.

but every time someone told him what he did was brave he just got a little angrier, a little more bitter.

but no matter how much better staying at the hospital was, away from neil, away from max, always trying to be his sister, no matter how many times he told himself his life was better now, he still felt hollow and lonely and...

he's never talked about it. any of it. not with the shitty hospital-mandated therapist they assigned him when he was still bedridden. not with the psychiatrist he went to a few years later when he was trying to get prescribed testosterone. not with any of the friends he's made here.

he doesn't know why the hell he decided digging up this particular skeleton was a good idea now, but he can't exactly rebury it at this point.

steve's hand is warm and solid and his thumb keeps softly rubbing his cheekbone and making his heart flutter. and he supposes that's the why of it. love has made him an idiot.

he sighs. leans into steve's touch. "i hated it. all of it. there was this article in the local fucking paper and everything, about what i did, calling it heroic. and people constantly telling me i should be grateful to be alive but i didn't want to be." his breath catches in this throat, voice breaking, "i didn't save that kid to be a hero, i did it because i wanted to die."

steve makes a wounded noise, low in his throat. "billy..."

"i don't anymore," he says quietly. "i—it hasn't been that bad in a long time."

there's a moment. a pause. a silence that has billy holding his breath as steve watches him with a pinched frown, his eyes shining with unshed tears. and then he shifts, slips a leg over billy's and rolls on top of him, rustling the sheets and knocking the air from billy's lungs.

it takes billy a second to realize what's happening, that steve's buried his face in the crook of his neck again, but this time hugging him with his whole damn body.

"...steve?"

"m'sorry," he whispers, muffled and quiet, breath hot against billy's skin. "sorry i wasn't there."

billy's heart clenches. painfully, bittersweet, swooping like he's been dropped from a great height. he tightens his hold on steve's waist. "you're here now. and i'm okay." he pauses, and turns his face to rest his cheek against steve's dishevelled head. "better than okay."

steve hums. kisses his collarbone. slips his hands more securely under billy, wiggling til his palms are squished between billy's shoulder-blades and the rumpled sheets. "you're sure?"

"yeah, pretty boy. i'm good."

"...good enough to make me pancakes?"

billy snorts. "i can't when you're laying on top of me, steve."

"lies. i know you can lift me."

he snorts again, dissolving into helpless giggles that entirely ruin his ability to respond with a clever retort. steve lifts his head and meets his eye, smiling softly. he presses that smile to billy's mouth.

and they have their pancakes. later. much later.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

[suugiithings]

KATSUKI BAKUGOU X YOU

The image isn't mine credits to the owner.

For some reason, I just write angst. 😅

I hope you like it. I really like Bakugou. I am still reading the manga and I am still in the 17th volume but I am loving his character development.

We can't forget that underneath all of that image of a bad/angry boy is still a teenager and geez we all can agree that teenage days are the worst.

Anyway, I am sorry for my writing skills and probably grammar mistakes but as I said in my work of Kirishima I don't usually write in English so I am trying my best and using dictionaries and even Grammarly to make sure everything is on point but sometimes some mistakes can get through it so I am apologizing beforehand and I will keep improving my English vocabulary to make my writing more interesting.

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: It is Bakugou so swearing is obviously here.

You stopped abruptly as you heard a loud and painful hiss. Your whole body completely froze while watching the state of that blonde guy. The rain wetting all his figure, his hair was even more messy than usual, his hands were sparking a little from his frustration.

I knew it. You told yourself as shutting your e/c eyes aggressively because of the huge pain felt as seeing him in such condition. You knew that he was suffering like you were because even if he didn't tell Kirishima what he meant to him we all knew that Kirishima was someone really important to Bakugou. Thankfully you had enough empathy to realize that seeing Kirishima unconscious on a hospital bed was an overwhelming pain for him as well.

Finally, you got the strength and courage to open your dark blue umbrella and took small and slow steps towards him. Fortunately, he didn't notice your presence as he was drowning in his feelings. Feelings. Something and probably the only thing Bakugou was terrible with. Normally he only ignored them and pushed them deep down in his soul letting them there alone getting bigger and bigger every day. And then one day those neglected pieces of human nature just exploded doing a huge mess. You already had witnessed that happening once and it wasn't something pleasant to see. It made your heart shatter in a million pieces because he went in a total auto-destructive mode and you being in love with him made you feel helpless and lost in the middle of your and his pain.

At last, when you were just mere centimetres from him, your umbrella was already above his head and his hood was pushed to cover not just his head but especially his face. His whole body hardened and you took this opportunity to wrap your free hand around his body while laying your head against his wet clothed back.

" I'm sorry for this random affection but I don't know what to do with this pain. I... I...My heart and soul are in suffering now so please just let me be like this for just a couple of minutes." he didn't say anything but you realize how heavy was his breath. A deep breath came from you while you squished him more trying to let your feelings be silently handed on to your lover. You would never be able to express your feelings so you just wanted him feel them.

"I'm sorry." a heavy and sad whisper came from the blonde as his muscles started to smooth under your touch. "It was my fault." your small hand rubbed the side of his body where your hand was calmly but firmly laying. The reality was you didn't know what really happened you just found Kirishima body laying on Bakugou arms in the middle of the battlefield where a group of villains attacked. Bakugou was frozen by his panic and disbelief the whole time since you found out them until arriving in the hospital.

"Shh...It isn't anybody's fault except those fucking villains." His body hardened again and heat rises from him. Shit. You should have just stayed quiet. He tried to let go of your grip and when he did he looked directly at you. And if it was possible your heartbreak to even smaller pieces. His face was consumed by the pain, sadness and especially the well-known rage. His eyes and face were swollen and red not just because of him being crying but also because of the fight they had against those villains. Small cuts here and there in his body. You tried to reach him but he dodged your touch.

" It was my fault. I was weak and he threw himself in front of me stupidly. I was the one who couldn't protect another human being and lost the fight. It is my fault. So just shut the fuck up with your pity I don't need it for anything. Especially when you were fucking late to help Kirishima. It is also your fault. You are useless. " If you didn't know him you would definitely just turn on your heels and leave but it was Katsuki we were talking about. He was shouting those things not really because he meant but because he was using your name instead of his while in reality, it was just a way to talk his feelings out and to curse at himself and not you. " So don't touch me. Don't try to seek relief because you don't deserve it. You need to drown in those feelings."

Your umbrella fell on the road and your hells rose to let your lips touch his. It was unexpected by both of you. You didn't think this through, it was just a reflection of your inability to comfort Katsuki. However, what shock you the most was his strong arms unexpectly wrapped your waist tightly pulling you so closer to him that both bodys almost fused in to each other and then his lips started a rough and intense kiss. All feelings getting involved at this moment. You could taste the bitterness of failure, the sourness of sadness and deep down a really shy sweetness of the untold love.

You both were already gasping for air but none of you wanted to let go. Your lungs were burning, your hearts racing and your legs trembling.

However very abruptly everything stopped including the feeling of his touch on your now wet body from the rain.

" What the fuck was that for?" the blonde screamed very loud when he came into his senses. His eyes were confused and full of anger. You stood in your place unshakable, you were already prepared for this.

" Nothing, Katsuki. It was nothing." you sighed in annoyance." What the hell do you think it is? I am tired of this." You screamed back at him and he was shocked. Yes, you had already had some fights but for silly things especially because you loved to make fun of him and tease him but never for serious topics and never with this look on your face." I think this kiss made pretty clear what's going on between us. I am fucking tired of watching you suffer in silence. I hate that so much. My heart breaks every time you self-isolate yourself. Maybe I am being egotistic but I just want you to be happy, goddammit. " His gaze was burning your skin of how intense it was. For the first time, you didn't know what he was feeling. Yes, because even though he puts his mask of an angry and though guy, he was actually a pretty simple person underneath that. He was just trying his best to improve himself and raise at the top and someone who lack a lot on self love.

" I didn't ask for anything. And there is no us here. I don't love you. Love is just stupid and a waste of time." he muttered finally taking his gaze away from you. "I don't want to love you while I don't love myself."

" Shh... I don't need to be corresponded I just want you to let me help you." You wrapped your arms again around him squishing him so hard as you could. " Just enjoy my company and let me be your walking diary. Allow me to hear your rants and fears."

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 25

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2005

It was the semi-finales for girl’s lacrosse. Miraculously, I was made captain as a freshman. Which meant, for some reason, people were offended and thought that I should be picked on more. Fact of the matter is that lacrosse is a game of strategy. Together; with the help of my teammates, we would play to win. Being captain wasn’t a choice, Finstock made me captain and the role was a big shoe to fill. But here we are, semi-finales.

As we made our way out to the play, I looked at the stands. Mom, Dad, Uncle Noah, Stiles, Scott on one end. Laura and Derek on the other side. 

There were fifteen minutes left in the game, the score was tied. We needed to make one more goal to win and get to the finales. For this next play, I was face to face with the other team captain, waiting for the pearl to be thrown. 

“You don’t deserve to be captain.” The girl glared, her eyes looked like they wanted to melt through my helmet and into my brain. 

“Excuse me?��� 

“You heard me. I worked my ass off for four years to be captain. What makes you so special?” 

I blinked at her, a little confused as to where this hostility was coming from, “I’m just playing a game.” 

“A real captain knows the lacrosse is more than a game.” She smirked, “When we win this, I’m getting a scholarship to So Cal, so why don’t you just do what freshman do best and lose.” On one hand I felt bad for her. She probably had parents that pushed and pushed for her to be the best. And I also felt bad because I knew we were gonna win.

The ref blew the whistle starting play. And everything was going according to plan. That was until I was passed the pearl. I ran with it, tossing it to another player. Meaning that it was completely unnecessary for me to be tackled and would be considered aggressive. But that didn’t stop the other captain from using her entire body to slam me into the ground. One minute I was standing and the next I had was on the ground. My chest felt tight, like I was straining to breathe. When I opened my eyes, I saw her face over mine, smirking down at me. 

“HEY!” I heard Finstock’s booming voice, “Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that?!” No whistle, either the ref hadn’t seen it or he was allowing it. But Derek wasn’t allowing it. I heard multiple shouts and then watched the player who stood above me get shoved away, Derek replaced her. He knelt down, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Derek, what are you doing?” I groaned. 

“Can you get up?” He asked, trying to help me sit up. I hissed at the movement. 

Derek turned back to the bench, “Get a medic!” And only then did the whistle blow. The girl had given plenty of excuses, but they still gave her team a three minute penalty that made them lose the game. Looks like I had been right. 

I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a concussion but I would be fine just in time for the finales. The whole time in the waiting room, in the room itself, and even when we got home, Derek had been right beside me, holding my hand.

- 

I had grown to hate hospitals and everything about them since the last time I had been to one I had been stabbed. The gowns with the open backs that were way too open to the public. That smell that was a cross between cleaner and the latex and rubber of gloves. The beds that were as hard as a rock and were covered in paper that would crinkle and make noise even if you weren't moving. That apprehensiveness that would build up in your stomach every time you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go through any of that. Since I was a pregnant werewolf, going to the hospital in Beacon Hills was a definite no-no, so the next best option is Dr. Deaton, a veterinarian and a makeshift supernatural doctor. Not to mention a full blown druid in this day and age. But from what I've learned in the past couple years, old magic was very much alive. 

I was sitting on the metal table used for the animals, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for Deaton to come back from getting my medical records emailed to him by Melissa. He could have gotten them himself, he just figured it would be less illegal if he got them from a nurse. 

Thoughts were racing through my head for no rhyme or reason. Since I became a werewolf, every scar or scratch on my body had become only a memory. My stab wound, the acid burns on my legs, the cuts on my face from being tortured all those months ago which really felt more like a lifetime. It had been a different life, a life fabricated through magic and spells. A life that almost didn't feel like mine anymore.

"Sorry, for the wait, (Y/N)." Deaton walked into the room, his eyes scanning over the stack of papers in his hands.

"You're alright, Doc." I smiled, leaning back on my hands, "So how am I looking?"

“Very pregnant.”

"Nothing gets past you, huh?” I smirked. To be fair, I was approaching the three and a half month mark. Deaton smiled, taking my vitals and a vial of blood. 

“So I’ve been made aware that Mr. Hale is the father.” He said, pressing a cotton ball to my skin after removing the needle, “How's that going?"

“About as well as you can imagine.” 

“So not at all?” He asked. I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. 

"Everything looks normal," He smiled as he wrote everything down on his clipboard, "Just need to get a look at the little guy." He looked up, "You said it was a boy, right?" He asked, moving over to get the sonographer that I’m sure had never been used on a human before.

“Unless the baby’s sprouting a third arm. That'd be cool." I smiled, “But yeah, that’s what the ultrasound tech in Scotland said.”

He chuckled and shook his head, "Alright, lay back and lift your shirt up." I laid back on the table, lifting my shirt up. The jelly he put on my stomach was cold and reminded me of the goo that had encased Jackson when he was a lizard person. He moved the sensor over my stomach and looked into the monitor. Ultrasounds were usually a little hard to see anyway, just like a fancy warschak paintings. And the fetus? Kinda like a funky jellybean.

“There we are.” He grinned, “Little werewolf.”

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, "You can tell he's a werewolf?"

"No.” He took the monitor off, handing me a paper towel so I could wipe off my stomach, “But odds are since his parents are both werewolves, it would make sense that the child would be also. However, you had the dormant gene, maybe your child will too." He turned off the sonographer.

“Have any names picked out?”

"I have a few... I liked Jacob, which Derek hated because it was too ‘Twilight’. Then there's one other but I don't know about it." The name that Derek loved more than anything for some reason, "Nicholas." And damn was it good. 

"What about Nicholas Jacob? Just use both of them." 

"Or I could name him after Stiles" I smirked to myself, "Mieczyslaw Nicholas.”

"Maybe that would be a little too much."

“Stiles is a little too much.” I smiled to myself

-

"So Nicholas?" Sheriff looked at me from across the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. I hummed and nodded, sipping my hot cocoa.

"Nicholas?” He asked again.

"Mieczyslaw?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows, "It was his mother's father's name." 

“I remember Grandpa Mitch, trust me." I smiled, holding my mug in both hands, “I was thinking maybe Nicholas Noah.” I avoided looking in his eyes. Emotional talks were never really his strong suit, especially after Aunt Claudia. I wanted to honor him somehow.

He smiled, blinking a few times, “Sounds pretty good to me.” After a moment he asked: "What are you going to do now?"

I finished my drink and stood up to put it in the sink, "My plan, right now at least, is that I'm going to stay here to have the baby... Then...” I washed out the mug, “Then I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to go back to Scotland or stay here." He stood up as well and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, blinking my own tears away. 

Uncle Noah stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "Whatever your decision, I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'll always, always be there for you." 

-

My pajamas had taken a turn for the worst. No more t-shirts and shorts, it’s moo moos and nightgowns from now on. I pulled my night gown over my head, smoothing out the skirt. Did I look like I had raided a grandmother’s closet? Absolutely. I looked down at my stomach, rubbing my hand over my bump.

"Are you a little alien?" I smiled after a moment, listening deeply to his little heartbeat, “Nice.” I glanced over at my desk, then pulled back my blankets to get into bed. I stopped, my head snapping back towards the window where there were red eyes staring back at me. 

 Now, if this was two years ago I would be losing my mind over the fact that there were red eyes staring at me. But since I've gone through emotional Hell, I was feeling rather annoyed by some alpha that just thought they could mosey around my house, around my window, and around my goddamn personal space. I stalked over to the window and slammed it open. 

"Listen, pal, you have about five seconds to get out my yard or I swear by all that is damnable, I will put you through so much pain that your great-grandchildren will be sore."

The eyes came closer, revealing a familiar crooked jaw, "Nice to see you too." 

"You could have just come through the front door, ya know? If Stiles can make a spare key to your house, then he can make you one for his." Scott only looked at me seriously. It was like the kid from three months ago was gone and all there was left was a battle hardened man. 

"Can I please come in?" I stepped away from the window, watching him crawl inside and stand up.

"I've been great, Scott, I've only been in Scotland for months, crying and wondering why none of my friends or family were contacting me. How have you been?" Was it petty? Absolutely, but the hormones were raging. Even if Derek told everyone to stop talking to me, what hold did he have over anyone when Scott was around?

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I came to-"

I cut him off, after finally connecting, "Who did you kill?"

“What?”

"To become an alpha, who did you take it from?" 

"I didn't kill anyone!” He said in an exasperated voice, “Why does everyone ask that? Not killing people has been my thing since Peter bit me." He ran his hand through his shorter hair, it suit him.

It then dawned on me. The one thing that had little to no documentation of. Even the Lunar Circle had just the basics. It was the stuff of legend, a hear say. I didn't think it was possible. 

"A true alpha." He stared at me for a second and blinked a couple times.

"You're a true alpha." I grinned, "Oh my god, Scott, this is unbelievable." I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, "Tell me everything. I wanna know how it happened and what situation you were in. How were you feeling? Were you hurt? Was your body under so much stress that it just happened?”

Scott grabbed my hands and placed them by my sides, "(Y/N), maybe another time I came here for a reason."

"Oh, right, of course." Probably looking ridiculous, “What’s on your mind?”  

"I really don't think it's safe for you here." 

"Here we go agai-" 

"Will you just listen to me before you start whining?" He growled. That certainly shut me up. I raised my eyebrows at him, but I guess I should hear him out. I motioned for him to continue.

"I'm not so much worried about you.” He said, “I know you can take care of yourself. I'm worried about..." He paused, "Uh..." 

“Nicholas.”

"Yeah, I'm worried about Nicholas." He sat in my computer chair and leaned forward, "The pack we're facing don't care who they kill or why, all they want is to hurt us. You're my friend, (Y/N). I don't want anything to happen to you. And I don't want anything to happen to your kid. Please." He rolled forward and took my hands in his, "Please, go back to Scotland. I promise you, you won't be in the dark. You don't deserve to be left out. I'll call myself, and if not me, Stiles will. It's not safe for you.” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. Scott was right, he was completely right. It wasn't safe. I couldn't be a tough alpha when I had so much to live for. Keeping this kid safe is my top priority. As much as I wanted to stay home, it wasn’t safe.

"You'll tell me when it's safe to come back?" 

"You have my word." 

I sighed, looking up at him with a half-smile, "I may be stubborn as hell, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when someone's right. And you're right, Scott. I'll go." 

He closed his eyes, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He dropped my hands and rolled back, "I'm so glad you agreed with my first speech, if you hadn't I would have been improvising for my life." He chuckled.

Shaking my head, I grinned at him, “It’s good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too.”

- 

"So you're going back?" Uncle Noah looked over his coffee with tired eyes, spying my luggage that had only been unpacked for two days. It was a new day and another plane ride.

"It's not safe for me. It's not safe for any of you." I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I know that will never stop you from helping the ones you care about." 

A small smile pulled at his lips, "You're way too good at reading me." 

"Well, I've only known you my whole life." 

He set down his coffee and hugged me tight, like this was the last time he would see me. I know he was worried about me and Stiles, it was in his nature. This was the best option for me. As much as I wanted to stay and fight. I couldn't fight if my child was kidnapped and hell knows what would happen to him. 

Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away, the honking outside meant that Stiles had pulled in and was ready to drop me off at the airport. 

"I'll call you when I land. Or text you. Depends on the time." I kissed his cheek, "Bye Uncle Noah." 

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe." I kissed his cheek. My head held high, I grabbed my bag and my rolling luggage and went out the door. Stiles grabbed my bags, opening the back of Roscoe to throw my luggage in. That was until a familiar black Camero pulled into the driveway, blocking Stiles in. 

"God. Dammit." I muttered to myself. My life was just going swell, wasn't it? I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I felt the burn of acid reflux in my throat, my child showing obvious discomfort as well. Me too, little man. Me too. 

There was no way around it, I couldn’t leave without talking with him. Not that I should have to begin with. I sucked. 

Derek got out of the car, coming around quickly and standing in front of me. 

“Derek, I don’t think you should be here.” Stiles stepped forward. Very sweet, but realistically Stiles wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing against Derek. They stared each other down, the air just filled with masculinity.

“Stiles...” I said, grabbing my bags, “If he wants to take me to the airport, let him.” 

Stiles eyes widened, “You’re really giving him the time of day? Really?” 

Sighing, I pulled Stiles into my arms and hugged him tightly. He hesitated, but hugged me back. 

“I know that this seems like a bad idea, and most of my ideas are bad, but I got this. Trust me.” I smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you.” He pulled away, looking between Derek and I. 

“I love you too. Scott and I will let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“You better.” I turned back to Derek, trying to keep up the attitude I had to keep Stiles at ease. I held out my bags. He took them without a word and we both started the trip to the airport. It was hard to get a read on him at the moment. He emotions were dull, nothing that stood out. He still looked as tense as ever. His brows were knitted together and his piercing green eyes looked hard. 

“So...” He said after a while, “What are you going to do about...” He trailed off. 

“Him?” I looked down at my stomach, “I’m just preparing and getting ready for him. I picked a name too. Nicholas.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, but he hid it, “Hmm.” 

“Derek....” Now or never, “I just need to know why?” 

He inhaled deeply, “I wish I could tell you. I don’t even remember it happening. Like I was under a spell and I couldn’t break out of it.” So he had experienced what I had when I was under Matt’s control. In this situation, in Beacon Hills, there was no reason not to believe him. His heart told me it was true. 

“I’m sorry that I hit you.” 

“I don’t blame you.” He glanced over at me, “If I felt the same thing you did, I would probably lose control too.” 

“I’m tired of people taking advantage of you. If I see that bitch-” I hadn’t realized that my eyes had turned red. 

“(Y/N)...” He reached over his right hand, placing it on my knee, “Calm down.” I took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Just the simplest touch could calm me down and it was something that I missed. 

“Nicholas, huh? I like it.”

Happiness welled up in my chest, “I sure hope so since you picked it.” 

“I didn’t think you liked it.” 

I sat back up and opened my eyes, “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked that name.”

“Riiiiight.” 

By the time the conversation ended, we were at the airport. I reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to stop me. 

“I let you leave alone last time, I’m walking you in."

We got inside and checked in, the only thing left was for me to board. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't take me to the airport last time, because now that he was here, I didn't want to leave him.

"How selfish would it be for me to ask you to drop your life here and come with me?" I leaned on his arm.

"Very. Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. I'm needed here. I have to be here for Cora."

I smiled slightly, "We're gonna get through this. Soon we'll be together again and we can have that big happy family that you deserve. That we deserve."

Derek sighed, resting his head on top of mine, "Is it cliche to hope that this all ends tomorrow?" 

My smile faltered, "Don't believe in miracles, Derek."

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Chasing Tornadoes {6/6}

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Series Warnings: 18+ Generally, like my blog. light smut. open ending.Smut literally starts under the cut.

A/N:  Sorry this series took longer to conclude than originally intended. I honestly wish I could finish it how I intended, but writing has been a chore of late. I’m no longer as excited or imaginative as I used to be. There was a sequel in the works, it is postponed for now. I’ll make sure to tag if the sequel makes it to light of day.

THANKS SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING STEPHEN AND I THROUGH THIS JOURNEY. MUCH LOVE GUYS.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3

Taglist is open -comment or send an ask!  

<< Previously ○ Next >>

Long. Elegant. And inside you. Stephen’s fingers moved with purpose, vivacity. Your body moved of its own accord. Hips rutting, hands clawing at ruffled sheets, toes curling. Your body felt warm as white spots blotted out the ceiling. You were moaning, speaking, but unsure of what you said. Stephen went rigid, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he kissed you through your earth wracking orgasm.

When you came down from the high, body glistened with sweat. Stephen’s cocked brow roused something in you.

“What?” you huffed, not even attempting to make yourself modest as you watched his fingers slip out of you, slick and delicate.

“So… you really think I’m a god?”

Your eyes went large, “Wha—When? I never—stop teasing, Stephen.”

His laughter filled the room, a strange sensation settling over your chest as you fought back your own laughter.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll stroke your ego, just this once. You did prove skilful with those fingers of yours.”

He stretched out his palm, holding it horizontal over your stomach. ”Steadiest hands in the business.”

You sat up on your knees, brining your lips to taste yourself on his fingers. He let out a huff, all arousal.

You made sure to draw out each syllable of your sentence, sounding raspy with desire. “We’re supposed to be having sex right now, not comparing resumes.”

He snaked his other hand around your waist and pulled you flush against him. His body was more than ready, if the heat and pulsing of his bulge were any indication. Feeling catty, you gyrated your hips against his erection, beyond satisfied at his reaction. His lips parted and his head lolled back, eyes shut, grip ironclad as he enjoyed the friction between you two.

“How rude of me,” he pulled you tighter. “Let’s rectify the situation.”

“Mmmm, let’s.”

The tension between the two of you was palpable. Hot and thick. Stephen glanced down at your lips, parted and beckoning him closer. You snaked your hips, making sure to illicit all the heady sounds you could from him.

At last, when he grunted, you let out a laugh of triumph and said, “What are you waiting for? Kiss me already.”

“Gladly!” He ravished you. Your tongue, your body and your mind were consumed by him, by his cologne clinging to your skin and his tongue worshiping yours. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. But two could play at that game.

 You spun round, making sure to use your strength to get Stephen under you, pinned beneath your thighs and the mattress.

“My turn,” you said, placing rough kisses along his neck and collarbone, sure to leave marks. His scent was stronger there, and you could almost smell the faintest touch of antiseptic, the smell that haunted the hospital break room and corridors. You remembered one of your earlier sex fantasies from your first days as an intern. The thought of having passion overcome logic, of having sex in a supply closet, hands pressed to mouths so you wouldn’t make a peep while the rush of daily routine and potential discovery waited behind the door. That thought got you riled up, before you knew it, you were panting—closer to moaning—and your hips moved with purpose. With need.

You leaned close to Stephen’s ear and whispered, “Tell me Stephen… tell me how you imagined this moment. How many dreams I’ve occupied. How many times you’ve touched yourself thinking about me. How—”

Stephen leaned forward, tangling his fingers by the nape of your neck, locking them into a tight pull before capturing your lips. Deftly, his free hand found your breasts and kneaded, slowly. His hips worked in tandem with yours, building that friction to a glorious sensation. You traced your fingers over his lean chest, feeling the curves and dips and softness of is physic. When he broke the kiss, you were both flushed and breathless.

“Did that answer your question?” he cocked up an eyebrow.

“Not even close,” you whined, and suddenly his hand slipped between your legs, applying pressure to your throbbing bundle of nerves. Stoking the fire.

“Enough with the delayed gratification, I need to be inside you.”

You reached for your bedside table and retrieved a condom wrapper. Biting the foil, you nudged your head at the pillows. “Lay down. It’s my turn to take control.”

A darkness flashed in Stephen’s eyes, and you swallowed. He did as you commanded, making it a show of languishing against your pillows, moving his hips so his pelvis and flat stomach rocked before your eyes. Inviting. Teasing.

Your gaze raked over his body, landing on his sizeable endowment. You smirked, ripping the foil open. “You know, I see where that cockiness comes from.”

“And I must say, I’m finding this new side of you…” his fingers trailed light patterns against your belly. “Very enticing.”

You slipped the condom on, enjoying the feel of his girth and length and curve. Savouring it by squeezing slightly, until he had to close his eyes and take in a sharp breath that trembled on its way out again.

“Good,” you said, guiding him inside you, moaning with pleasure as each inch slipped inside.

 Sex with Stephen was different. Especially in daylight, with no shadows to blanket over you. Your bodies behaved intimately, as if you’d been bygone lovers rekindling an old flame. Everything was new, his size, your motions, your responses to one another, but one thing was clear, you both fought for dominance, and you both relished in the high of it all.

 You rolled out of bed at the smell of early dinner; salt and butter. The crackling of the pan was oddly homely. It seems Stephen wasted no time getting comfortable in your apartment.

You reached for your bathrobe and realised it wasn’t on the hook. So, Stephen had no qualms borrowing your clothes either. You bit back a smile, imagining how ridiculously short your bathrobe would look on his long frame.

You left your room in an oversized t-shirt and smelled something new and bitter as you sat down on the kitchen table. Dark roast coffee.

“Making yourself at home, I see,” you laced your fingers together to rest your chin atop.

Stephen didn’t turn around, he merely hummed. It was a breezy tone. Different from the sound he made when he was thinking, or agitated. It was new. You liked that.

“You label everything, it wasn’t rocket science,” he teased.

“My, my, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you just tried to make a joke.”

Stephen grumbled something under his breath, reaching for the coffee pot to pour a healthy serving into a cup and place it in front of you. “Here, preoccupy yourself with that.”

“But you didn’t ask if I like it with cream and sugar.”

“I’m pretty sure I know exactly how you like it.” His tone was suggestive.

You blushed. Deeply. At a loss for words, you took the coffee and let the dark flavour consume you. A satisfied moan trickled up your throat. Stephen smirked, showing a little teeth. Somehow, he looked his age, for the first time since you met him. He looked comfortable.

“That is how I like it,” you nodded your head.

Stephen turned back to the stove when a framed photograph caught his eye. He pointed the flat end of the wooden spatula at it. “Is that your family?”

You glanced up, looking at the photograph of you and Irene—your sister. You were both seated on bleachers, smiling too widely at the person who was holding the camera. A partial thumbprint blurred the top left corner. Beside Irene was her husband, Rafael and their son Max—who was a carbon copy of your sister, dark curls, vibrant hazel eyes and a round jaw.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. “That’s my sister Irene, and her husband and son.”

“Hmmm,” Stephen hummed. He was thinking this time..

“‘Hmmm’ what?”      

“Nothing, it’s just…” his eyes narrowed. “Your bone structures are different.”

“Questioning our genealogy now?”

“Force of habit.”

“You must be great at parties,” you remarked sarcastically.

Stephen rolled his eyes, plating the food decoratively. He offered you the one with the larger helping. You played around with the food, watching him chew absentmindedly as he pretended not to find the photograph intriguing.  

“Your assumption is correct,” you took a fork full of eggs benedict. “Our facial structures aren’t similar because we’re both adopted.”

“I see,” he adjusted himself in his chair, trying to make himself appear less rigid. His eyes flicked back to Irene, and then Max. “Must be quite the age gap.”

You huffed, “Not as wide as you’d think. The city does that to some people. Ages them, I guess. Not that her job is a cake walk either.”

“Is that why you’re afraid of leaving this place, even though we both know you want more?” he cocked an eyebrow. “Afraid the big, bad city will gobble you up and spit you back out again?”

You thought of something uncouth to say, something that would sting and get him to drop this issue, but you chose to swallow that knee-jerk reaction. “And here I thought we could go five minutes without arguing,” you sighed. “Let’s not rehash this.”

He raised his hands, palms towards you. “Not arguing. Just an observation.”

There was a long pause, and most of it was filled with the ambient noises of cutlery scraping plates and the slurp of hot coffee. When you visibly relaxed, Stephen asked more questions. Simpler ones. About your college years and why you had so many festival t-shirts, and why Jan always knew everything that happened in the hospital.

Soon enough, you welcomed his inquisition. Took to telling him things easily, as if retracing the past with an old friend. It was the sort of easy interactions you shared with Mike, except you couldn’t hold Stephen’s gaze for longer than two seconds at a time. You always found an escape—the one potted plant by the window sill, Spike lounging on his floor cushion, the wind-chimes shaped like dragonflies, the spot of hollandaise sauce on the plate. Anything.

The early dinner somehow managed to stretch past actual dinner time, and the two of you stood shoulder to shoulder. You washed the dishes while Stephen dried, the conversation still going strong.

“So why neurosurgery?” you dipped your mug into the soapy water a few times before handing it to Stephen.

Ignoring your question, he glowered at your washing technique. “For the love of… I hope that’s not how you wash your hands after dealing with patients,” 

“The mug only had coffee in it.”

“Just…” he pressed his fingers to his nose. “Trade places with me.” He took the mug and swapped places with you, placing the dishcloth on your shoulder. The simple action made you shudder. He watched your movements from the corner of his eye, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “Intrigue. That’s what drew me to neurosurgery. There’s nothing quite like the human brain.”

You laughed. He frowned.

“What? Not the answer you were expecting?” he handed you a plate.

“To be honest, no. I thought you’d’ve said something more arrogant.” You emoted how you imagined Stephen would, making your voice deep and comical as you plastered on a frown: “‘Anyone can open and close the chest cavity. But the brain? That’s all about talent.’ Something like that.”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “A monkey could perform heart surgery.”

You snapped your fingers, “Like that, see. Nail on the head there.”

“Christine says that all the time,” he noted, before going stiff for a brief moment.

As Stephen dried the last mug, you turned to lean your back against the sink, a gnawing sensation in your stomach making you uneasy. “Do you think I’m a bad friend?”

He sighed, placing the mug gently on the rack. “Christine and I haven’t been… close in that way, not in a long time. If that’s what you mean. As for the friend part, I think only you can answer that. But I have no regrets. About today. Or all the countless nights I’ve had thinking about you.”

Your heart quickened again and you hid your blush behind your hair. Stephen lifted your chin, a sincerity to his features.

“Do you?” he asked.

“I—” you bit your lower lip. “I should. But I don’t.”

Stephen’s breath hitched. Instinctively, he closed the space between the two of you, lowering his face so his lips were inches from yours. “Good,” he whispered before stealing the air from your lungs with a fevered kiss.

“Wait…” you barely managed to get a word out as Stephen hoisted you onto the counter. “Stephen…”

He let out a satisfied grunt, “Say it again. Just like that. Say my name again.”

You didn’t mean to oblige, but when his name graced your lips again, you found it sounded even headier than before. “What are we doing?”

 “I don’t know, but it feels right,” he tightened his grip around your hips as he kissed your neck.

“We shouldn’t,” you panted. “Once was a mistake, we can get away with saying that. But if we do this… again… that complicates things. We both know you don’t do complicated.”

He smirked, biting at the tender flesh he’d just finished sucking on. “Neither do you.”

“But—”

He sealed your lips with a greedier kiss. His stubble leaving red marks across your jaw. “Tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow.” He hunkered lower to kiss down your sternum, his free hand rolling a taut nipple between thumb and finger. “Today, let me just have this. Have you.”

You let out a moan and somewhere behind the heat of your ears, you heard Spike drop the last flower pot. You didn’t care, you just wanted Stephen. Near you. Above you. Inside you. Again.

“Okay,” you mewled, lacing your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed as he lifted your shirt and got on his knees, pleasantly thrilled to find you weren’t wearing underwear. He licked his lips, looking up at you as if you were the sun, and said: “You’re so frustratingly beautiful, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself, doctor.”

Stephen’s smile turned wolfish. “Call me that again.”

“I’d be happy to, doctor.”  

Sparks flew, a continuous stream of electricity making your toes curl and your fingers feel static. You and Stephen had ignited something in each other. Something beyond the sex. And both of you were afraid of how raw it was. Every time Stephen called your name, your heart found new ways to react. For the first time in a long time, you felt warm. Wanted. Beautiful.

Today you were his. And he was yours. Tomorrow be damned.

tags: @raindancer2004​ @captaincutebutt​ @demonstracija​ @melisssaa​

permatags: @500daysofbecky​ @electroma89​ @gruffle1​ @thechickvic​ @notawarriorjustyet​ @savethehoneeybees @bookish-shristi​

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

PART 2 of MSG: She eventually tells them what’s going on and her sickness is why she refused their advances. She didn’t want to get attached. The boys then make the decision to tell her what they are. It’s up to you whether she turns or not 🤷🏻‍♀️

So, I can’t include the full ask (because it’s two parts), but I hope you enjoy this!

Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Terminally Ill S/O

When the boys met you, you had only just found out you were sick. You had leukemia, and you were still in the early stages, and there was high hopes that you’d get better.

You met Dwayne first, and he was so quiet around you that you hadn’t even noticed when he came up to you. You looked up to see the tall brunette right besides you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. You were in one of the only bookstores on the boardwalk, and you were just browsing around when he found you. You talked a little bit about the book you were looking for, pointedly trying to ignore his bare chest, and he showed you where it was. You were too short to reach it, so he grabbed it for you. Cue jacket lifting up to expose even more of his chest. When he handed it to you, he had a small smirk on his face. 

After you two left, he offered to introduce you to some of his friends. You thought it couldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t like you’d have many people to talk to when you started your treatment in the hospital

You couldn’t believe he hung out with the other boys. Paul was Dwaynes polar opposite. He was a ball of energy, and his arm was instantly around you when Dwayne brought you over to the other three. He’d hopped off his bike just so he could be near you, and he practically hung off you. He cooed, “Who’s the hottie?” Right into your ear, and he was so faded that you had to laugh. You told him your name, and he repeated it. As if he was testing it in his mouth. He arched his brows at the curly haired blonde, and he took to your other side.

Marko complimented your style, and played with the edge of your shirt. He was just as touchy as Paul, if a little bit more so, and he asked you where you bought your shirt. You told him, and then you asked him where he bought his jacket. He seemed just a little too proud of himself when he told you he made it himself, and you complimented it freely. He let you touch some of the patchwork, and you gushed over his stitching. He was all smiles as you played with the little fishing lures

David was the most intense, and he asked you if “you wanted to see something cool”. You figured worst case scenario you didn’t have a lot of time left, and best case scenario you did and you’d have a cool night to add to a long list of other cool nights. So, you agreed. David had you ride with him, and you screamed when he took off and went down the stairs. He laughed at your screams and only drove faster, and you held onto him for dear life. They took you to the cave, and you had to admit. It was definitely cool. You listened to music, smoked, and all around just had a fun time with the boys. You refused any drinks they gave you because of your illness, and, by the end of the night, the boys were already asking you out. 

You had to refuse. While the guys were great, they really were, you couldn’t get into a relationship at the moment. Not when you knew about your illness. You didn’t need a commitment, especially one to four boys. Not if there was still a chance of the worst case scenario. You didn’t offer them any explanation, and they didn’t ask for one. They decided you’d just be friends instead, and they quickly claimed all of your nights at the boardwalk

Even though you were “just friends” the boys didn’t treat you like it. They bought you dinner almost every night, and glared down any boys that tried to talk to you. David would win steal you prizes from any of the games, Marko would take you on rides until you practically puked (as your illness got worse, you actually got close a couple of times), Paul would dance headbang with you during the live shows, and Dwayne would steal you away to take you star-gazing on the beach.

Eventually, you and Paul got really high alone at the cave once, and ended up making out. You’d been the one to initiate it, and Paul was far too eager to comply. He was such a good kisser and you two ended up kissing for nearly an hour. The boys walked in on the two of you (Paul on top of you, in-between your legs, and with his tongue down your throat), and Dwayne immediately turned and walked right back out. Marko cackled so loud he caught both of your attention, and David just gave him a look. Paul whined that he didn’t start it so it wasn’t his fault, and you slowly started to become friends with benefits with all of them

As your illness continues, you can’t go on the rides anymore and the only ride you can go on with Marko is the ferris wheel. He’s still excited to take you, even if it’s not nearly as fast as a daredevil like him would like. He gives you a sweet, chaste kiss when you stop at the top, and covers it up by saying that he’s always wanted to do something like that. You tease him about it for the rest of the nice and go, “You like me~ You want me to be your girlfriend~” until he picks you up and threatens to throw you over the railing

Dwayne makes a bonfire the next time you go star-gazing, brings a blanket so you don’t get sand everywhere, and the two of you roast marshmallows and make smores. You giggle and wipe the chocolate off the corner of his mouth. He watches to suck it off your finger, and he can’t stop himself. He plants a kiss on your lips. He tastes like marshmallows and chocolate, and he kisses you so slow and gently that you’re blushing bright red in the glow from the fire-light when he pulls away. Neither of you talk for a moment, and then you kiss him again. He lays you back in the sand, and it’s the first time you’ve done more than just kiss any of the boys. He’s gentle and slow, and he kisses you like he really means it. When the two of you are done, he pulls you onto his chest and plays with your hair. You know he wants to ask you something, probably why you won’t date them, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and neither do you

David strolls around with you on his arm like usual. It’s your last night before you have to go to the hospital to start treatment, and you decided to spend it with him. He takes you for a ride through the sand, and back to the cave. You’re a little surprised when you see so many candles already lit, and the two of you watch some movies on a tv that you have no idea how they managed to hook up in the old hotel. David says something about a generator, and you don’t ask too many questions. David’s hardly focused on the movie, and he keeps rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. You both have smoked a little, and the sensation feels so nice. Eventually, he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull him close, and push off his jackets, and David is on top of you before you can even register it. When you two are done, he can’t stop kissing you. He stays on top of you and makes out with you long after you two have calmed down. Finally, he pulls away and asks you what all the boys have wanted to ask you since the night you rejected them. Why?

You don’t know what to tell him. The whole point of your rejection was so none of them, not even you, would get attached. You can see that you’ve clearly failed, but it doesn’t stop you from trying anyways. You tell him you want to go home, and David simply stares at you for a moment. Finally, he nods and he takes you back to your house. 

The next few weeks, you’re nowhere to be found on the boardwalk. They call your house after the first few days, and talk to your parents. When your parents say you’re not taking any visitors, they assume that you’re avoiding them. David thinks that he’s messed everything up. They give you some space at first, and decide that you’ll have to come talk to them eventually. But weeks go by and you’re still nowhere to be found. They talk to a few of your friends, and they say that you’re just taking some time away from the boardwalk awhile. They think that’s a load of bullshit, but they don’t say so. Finally, the boys drop by your house.

Paul knocks on your window, and the first question in your mind is how the hell did he even climb up there? Your room is on the second floor. You open the window and pull him inside, simply so he won’t break his neck. He’s so happy that you let him inside that he doesn’t even notice how terrible you look at first. Your eyes are sunken in, you’re wearing a bandana around your head, and your skin is a sickly, pale shade. You’re so skinny now, he looks as if by hugging you too hard he’d break you in half. He doesn’t even know what to say, and he quickly leans out the window and tells the others to come up. He was supposed to be the one to talk to you, convince you to come back to them, but he has no idea how to handle this

You have to lay back on your bed, as you can’t really stand standing up with how many meds are coursing through your system. You don’t even watch the boys come in, because you’re so tired. You’ve been sleeping pretty much all the time, and the boys don’t say a word as they crowd around your bed. Paul and Dwayne sit on either side of you, while Marko and David stand. None of them says anything for a moment, and then David just quietly asks, “What happened?” And you struggle to keep yourself awake

You explain that you’re sick. That you’re doing the best you can to fight it, but chemotherapy is kicking your ass just as much as it’s kicking the cancers ass. Technically, you shouldn’t even be allowed to be home, but you didn’t want to potentially spend your last days in a hospital. Technically, they shouldn’t even be allowed near you, ‘cause of all the potential germs they could be carrying. You explain that that’s why you said no. You didn’t want to have them get attached, to get attached yourself, only for you to die. It seemed like it was a little too late for that. But most of all, you didn’t want them to see you like this. You looked awful, and you knew it.

David looks you over, and it looks as if he’s looking at a ghost. He doesn’t hesitate to tell you what they are, and you laugh. Yeah, right. As if to prove it, his face changes. Your eyes widen and you stare. You look around at all the boys, and see that their faces have changed in exactly the same way. Hard lines, yellow and red eyes, and large, pointed fangs. It’s almost comical how Pauls lips jutt out around them. You almost thought it was cute, if they didn’t look absolutely terrifying. Now, it was your turn to be silent.

David fills the silence with the words, “You’ll never have to die. You’ll never get sick.” And you know exactly what he’s offering. For you to become one of them. Paul is quick to add, “C’mon, sugar. We could go to shows every night.” And Marko cut in, “And you could fly. It’s a thousand times better than the Great Dipper.” He said, mentioning your favorite of all the rides on the boardwalk. Dwayne, the other boy closest to you, reaches out to touch your arm. He whispers, “Think about it, y/n.” And you look at all of them. You can feel your eyes well up with tears. You don’t say a word, only give them a small nod. Then, they’re on you. Paul and Dwayne each grab a wrist, while Marko and David go for your shoulder and neck. They drink from you, draining you of the very thing that was killing you. Then, David tears open his own wrist and places the wound between your lips

You left your parents a note, saying that you didn’t want to spend your last few days being shot up with meds and that you didn’t want to put any more financial strain on them then you already had. You were going to go travel, see the world before you inevitably left it. Unbeknowst to them, you were still in Santa Carla. Some of your friends thought they’d seen you once, but it couldn’t be. The last time they’d seen you you’d been wasting away. Nearly a corpse. The girl they saw was healthy, alive. She had a wild look in her eyes, and she disappeared behind four boys before the five of them peeled away with a roar of motorbike engines

[mamourland]

20 with miggyyyy

I tried something... Let me know what you think ;)

Kiss on a scar

Mr & Mrs Magnum universe

At the age of 4, James Magnum thought he was a big boy although, according to his big sister Ellie, he was just a baby. 

But tonight, as he innocently rolled his little cars on the hardwood floors - something his mother would scold him for - he learned something very worrisome.

His Mommy almost died.

He was used to seeing one of his parents getting hurt because of their jobs, just like he often skinned his knees, but tonight felt different; Mommy went to the hospital where all the doctors worked to make people feel better.

This time, his always joyful Daddy had been very serious as he helped his Mommy walk up the stairs so she could rest in their bedroom. He had told James he would be down in a few minutes to explain everything to him but James didn’t want to wait, he wanted to see for himself if his Mommy was okay.

Ellie was out with Kumu and he was getting scared with no one around to reassure him.

He wanted his Mommy.

Leaving the neon matchbox cars he got from Uncles Rick and T.C on the floor, he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him up the stairs until he reached his bedroom.

‘Where was it?’ He wondered.

He rummaged through his closet and smiled in victory when he found it - his doctor costume. 

He slipped the white coat on and grabbed the plastic stethoscope that he wrapped around his neck before looking at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

With his light brown curls, tan skin and green eyes, Mommy always called him her little caramel but what James saw right now was a real doctor who was going to cure his Mommy.

He rushed out of his room and slowed down just a few feet before he reached his parents’ bedroom. He heard them talk softly through the half-opened door. 

“Are you comfortable, Babe?”

“I’m okay, Magnum. You should go see James though; he must be so scared.”

“I’ll go in a minute.”

Then, James heard the sound Mommy and Daddy made when they kissed on the mouth.

‘Gross!’

He better went inside now because their kissing could last a while. He rolled his eyes; they could be quite disgusting sometimes.

He pushed the door slowly and saw his Daddy straighten up after he bent over the bed to kiss his Mommy.

For all the confidence he had felt before coming inside, he suddenly felt very shy when he saw his Mommy.

She was lying on her bed, her hair stuck to her forehead and her face was really pale.

She smiled as soon as she noticed his presence but he wasn’t used to seeing his Mommy like this. She was always laughing, especially when Daddy was being silly.

Now, she looked… sick.

“Hey, baby,” she said in a soothing voice.

It made James feel better because, at least, she sounded the same.

He didn’t dare come any closer though, so his Daddy came and picked him up, pressing a kiss on his cheek that James barely felt. His eyes were glued on his Mommy.

Daddy put him on the bed, next to his Mommy who trailed her fingers through his curls.

“Are you here to cure me?” She asked him as she noticed his outfit.

He nodded.

“I’m going to call Kumu and check on Ellie,” Daddy said as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “Are you guys going to be okay for a while?”

“We’ll be fine, Thomas,” Mommy said in the voice she had when she was annoyed with Daddy.

“Ok, I’ll stop asking. James be careful with Mommy, she has a boo-boo.”

When Daddy was gone, the little boy turned to his mother.

« Are you okay, Mommy? »

« I’m okay, Baby. I just need a few days of rest and I’ll be good as new. »

« Why did those bad guys hurt you? »

« Because they were bad guys and Daddy and I were trying to stop them from doing bad things and that made them angry at us. »

She stroked James’ arm up and down to reassure him.

« Don’t worry though, Uncle Gordie stopped them and put them in jail. »

James felt better, knowing that his Mommy was safe from the bad guys.

« Can I hug you, Mommy? » He asked her in a small voice.

« Of course you can, Baby. Just be careful though not to touch my belly, ok? »

He nodded before he lay down next to his Mommy, grabbed her hand in his and leaned his head on her shoulder. She turned her head so she could deposit a kiss on the top of his head.

« So Dr. Magnum, what do you think is wrong with me? »

James smiled and sat up before placing his stethoscope in his ears.

« Well, Mrs Magnum, » he started with his most serious voice. « Let me see your boo-boo. »

Mommy laughed before she grabbed her stomach, trying to hide her pain but the little boy caught on it.

« I’m sorry, Mommy. I hurt you. »

« You didn’t, Baby, it’s just that you sound so much like your Daddy. »

« Ok, » he told her once she had reassured him. « Now lift your top, please. »

She obeyed her son with a small smile that soon dropped when she noticed his worried expression at the sight of her bandage.

« It’s ok, James. It’s just like when we put a band-aid on your skinned knee. This band-aid is just bigger. »

The little boy placed his palm on an uninjured part of her belly.

« Can I kiss it to make it better? »

« Well, you’re the Doctor here; you must know better than I do how to fix it. »

He showed his Mommy almost all his teeth with his wide grin.

« Mrs Magnum, I going to give you a cure that will make you feel better. Are you ready? »

« I am, Dr. Magnum. »

James bent over slowly and deposited the smallest kiss on top of the white bandage before straightening up again.

« There you go, you’re all fixed now. »

« Oh wow, Dr Magnum. I feel so much better now. Thank you. »

« No problem, Madam. It’s my job. »

Mommy chuckled and shook her head just like when she is amused at Daddy’s antics.

« Can I have more hug time now? » she asked him.

James removed his stethoscope from around his neck and huddled next to his Mommy in case she needed another dose of his magic cure.

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC XVI

Choices: Open Heart; Part 1-15 in bio.

Rating: M, implied sex, swearing

Song: My Own - Whitaker

Word Count: 3380

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @choicesficwriterscreations @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @bubblelaureno @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa @kingkassam || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Sixteen: Scarred

Suki didn’t need to hear any more. There was no explaining away this one. She’d asked the question and his answer was simple. So I am just a body to you? Yes.

Her gaze fell to the floor and her feet felt cemented there even though all she wanted to do was run away. She kept trying and trying but they wouldn’t budge. Noise was all one big long beep fizzling around her ears and her vision was a big blurry mess, despite the tears clinging on for dear life at the bottom of her lashes.

But she didn’t need to move. Bryce already had. She saw as the blurred shapes of his legs removed themselves from her peripheral and she could picture each step in her mind, each one another stab to her chest.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, swaying in the growing dark, the tears still gripping on obstinately to her lash line.

And it seemed she made it home on autopilot, because the next thing she knew she was unlocking her front door and gliding through to her bedroom. If anyone was around in the communal areas, she wouldn’t have been able to tell because nothing was registering.

She also seemed to manage to undress and slide into pyjamas in smooth movements, eyes barely blinking and mouth set slightly parted. She hadn’t bothered to turn the light on, just a small window of grey sky illuminating the room ever so slightly.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth, trying not to think too much about the time Bryce had done this for her. She didn’t even look in the mirror as she did so.

It wasn’t until Suki cradled herself into bed and laid to one side, the space Bryce often occupied empty in front of her, that she finally began to cry.

She felt out to the space, the smooth cotton kind of stinging beneath her still-cold hands, like that would somehow let him know she was thinking of him. That she was sorry. Sorry that she went and fucked up and caught feelings. Sorry that she acted on impulse. The empty space never usually felt like a problem, probably because she knew it would be occupied at some point or another. And now it wouldn’t be. She slowly turned her hand over, looking at her scars in the dim light. And she just cried more. Because it was a reminder of Bryce seared into her skin forever. The puckered skin a neat example of Bryce’s careful and thoughtful stitches. The red disappearing scabs a beacon of how she’d messed it all up.

His stitches hadn’t scarred just her hand, but her heart, too.

She wasn’t even meant to feel anything for him, but mistakes were made. She wasn’t even sure she ever felt like it was a good idea, even from the start, just that she wanted him. She had been helpless to stop the unforgiving want.

But as she grew to want him in the other way, he’d stayed the same.

This was nothing like the time Bryce had been funny about the surgery, or when she’d been worried about what she’d heard him say to Ben. This was different. This was real and definite and final. No chance of miscommunication. She’d worried—knew to some extent—that how she felt was one sided, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

She was embarrassed. Because even if she’d been right about him not feeling the same, she’d still believed he at least cared for her as a friend. Just like the rest of the group. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

There was definitely a sense of frustration that he’d been pissed at her for lying, but in admitting that she was only a fuck to him and not a friend, he’d revealed he’d been lying since she asked him about it.

Her throat hurt as she tried to cry silently. She couldn’t believe how badly everything had got fucked up. She found herself wishing that the space next to her was occupied. She didn’t even want the sex. She wanted the intimacy. Just Bryce next to her. His stupid fucking grin and his eyes like chasms she’d trip and fall down with just a word—just the thought of hearing her name on his lips triggered a chorus of ‘Why, Suki?’ and she was in even more desperate tears. No ‘Sukes’, no ‘Santa Fe’, and her full name normally sounded like heaven—but.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there wallowing. She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep until she woke up with the sore, crusty eyes and a wet pillow. Pathetic. He wasn’t even anything to me. I hate that I made myself feel this way.

—-

The next few days were a big blend of work, coming home to stare at a wall, and eventually needing to eat.

This shouldn’t have fucked her up as much as it was, but it had. She’d lost a friend above anything else. Or, who she thought was a friend.

And she wished that maybe this had happened sooner, before she got too sucked in. But then she realised. She’d always been screwed. The entire time.

She hadn’t even considered previously that they’d had an emotional bond before they even had a good chance at being only fuck buddies. When they’d kissed in the supply closet all those months ago, it was sealed. Her tears had been drying on her cheeks as he’d kissed her desperately, tasting them and consuming her misery. For her, anyway. She should’ve read the signs, let herself stay away from the inevitable heartbreak.

And yes, Suki got sick. So she was sick and heartbroken all at once. She had to take a couple of days off, and all she did was hole up in her room and pop out occasionally to cook up a meal from the freezer. Thank god she was always prepared.

One day she was unfortunate enough to enter the kitchen while Jackie was already there, eating a sandwich at the table.

“Hey,” she smiled, she knew Suki was sick so Suki assumed that was what the sympathetic look on her face was about.

“Hi,” Suki replied meekly, before pulling out some cold pizza from the fridge and digging in to a slice.

“Aren’t those sweatpants a bit big for you?” Jackie asked. Suki forgot she’d been living in Bryce’s hoodie and sweatpants she’d stolen at Christmas. She was currently in an old t shirt of her own and said sweatpants which definitely were a tad big.

“No,” Suki groaned through her mouthful of pizza.

“Okay, what is up? Any time you’re at the apartment you’ve been moping and barely taking care of yourself, you haven’t even noticed me when I’ve said hi to you at the hospital. I know you’re sick but... I don’t know. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Jackie. I guess I just hate February.”

“No… there’s something wrong. Is this a bad time of year for you?”

She looked at Jackie properly for the first time in the conversation, concern laced in her typically brusque face. It was a bit of an impasse. Telling Jackie would probably screw things up further, especially given how close she was with Bryce. If she was being honest, Suki had no idea if Bryce had confronted Jackie about the whole thing. If she was being honest, she didn’t want to know. If Bryce hadn’t chastised Jackie, then Suki knew the whole thing had been about her, and he really had meant that the fact they were sleeping together changed things. Of course if he had, that would mean that Suki wasn’t special at all. She couldn’t win.

Was indifference worse than resentment?

“Something like that,” she gave a small sad smile. Jackie nodded understandingly, and Suki knew she wouldn’t press.

“Here,” Jackie patted the chair beside her, clearing off the last of her sandwich in the other hand. Suki didn’t really want to sit down and chat—she’d been hoping to hole up in her room all day again—but at this point that would be rude. So she reluctantly slid into the chair. “So, I need to ask you a question.”

Suddenly Suki’s head whirred with all the possible things Jackie could be curious about, but all they landed on was Bryce. Had she somehow found out they’d been sleeping together? Or, did she know those sweatpants were his? What if Bryce had confronted her about the whole thing and that was this? All questions lead to him. And that made her seriously nervous. She didn’t want to talk about him, she didn’t want to think about him. Even though that seemed all she could do these days.

“Okay…”

“So after the whole I-stopped-you-from-hitting-a-surgical-intern thing, did you maybe… go back and do it?”

Suki balked, she wasn’t expecting this. “No? What do you mean?”

“I saw the two of them sporting matching black eyes, I wondered if—”

“No.” Suki was surprised by the revelation, because it certainly hadn’t been her.

“Oh. Alright. I suppose he’s probably just a dick generally, then. I’m glad, I’m still shocked they didn’t report us.”

Although Jackie might’ve been right—he might’ve just been an ass in some other situation—Suki couldn’t help but feel there was some connection. Maybe Landry was pissed they’d given him away? No, he didn’t seem the type. She didn’t really feel like asking the guy, but the situation was curious to her. Hopefully there’d be enough gossip once she was back at work to figure it out.

“Fred’s nose is fine, by the way. I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this,” Jackie said as she looked at the table; affection was something she was still getting her head around.

Suki nodded, she was glad she hadn’t broken anyone. Because she had been feeling a little guilty, even if he had deserved it. That feeling paled in comparison to how it had affected things with Bryce, though.

—-

The following days, months, indeterminate amount of time were hell for Bryce too.

He’d taken it too far. He could’ve let her down more gently. But she was too forgiving, too loyal, and she would’ve still been there for him—he couldn’t have that. Fucking hell, she would’ve probably bought him soup about the fact he’d rejected her if he’d been soft about it. And shit, he adored her for it.

He felt so incredibly guilty because he could see he’d hurt her. Those words cut like a knife for so many reasons. First, he looked like he only cared about getting in her pants and it hurt him that that meant every meaningful moment they shared became just another way to fuck her. Second, it had been a direct contradiction to what he’d told her before when she’d asked him the same question—and he’d insisted they were friends. Third, he was sure he’d done it at the worst possible time. Just when he was starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone in this. Like the way she looked at him meant what he wanted it to mean. And yes, that was why it had to happen, but it also meant he’d probably hurt her even more.

Shit, he wished he didn’t hurt her at all. Ever. He wished she could always be okay, he wished she could brush it off. But he knew she couldn’t. Even if he meant nothing to her—something he didn’t know the answer to—the way Suki was as a person would mean she’d be upset no matter what. She was thoughtful, loving, and empathetic. He’d seen that time and time again. Even if she didn’t like him the way he liked her, the fact of losing a friend was enough for her. And he was beating himself up nonstop for letting things get to the point where he would hurt her. Had hurt her.

Part of Bryce had wanted those idiots to report him for hitting Ben, some sort of sadistic payback for what he’d done to Suki. He wasn’t sure why they hadn’t, but at least he still had work to pour himself into. That was his only solace. The thing he loved the most. Or, historically had.

Although he truly fell for Suki at Halloween, he was also of the belief that there’d been some odd emotional bond from the very start. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen it before. All the flirting, the desire to be near her, the way she made him feel. It was clinging to the familiar, the concentrated girl from college who he’d shared a moment with, whom he’d felt compelled to comfort that day. They were fucked before they even tried.

—-

If Suki had any hope of things fixing themselves after some time, that was gone when the months dragged on by with no word. It was easier than she expected to avoid friend outings:

I’m so tired.

I’m working really early tomorrow.

I’m actually working.

I’m trying to drink less.

And that seemed enough for the moment. She had picked up enough extra shifts that most of the time she really was working her ass off. Aurora knew what had happened, being Suki’s one confidant, and helped along with the excuses and avoiding. Aurora was… less than happy with Bryce but never said anything at Suki’s request. She did, however, disapprove of the way Suki was handling things.

“You can’t let this mean you avoid all your friends,” she’d said one day after trying to drag Suki out of her bedroom to Donahue’s. Suki had been grateful that Aurora hadn’t said ‘I told you so’. Even if she had been right.

“I live with you guys. It’s only him who’s extra, anyway.”

“Don’t you think it might be nice to clear the air, though? Yeah, he was a dick, but you shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable around him for the rest of the time we’re all at Edenbrook.”

“I’m just not ready yet.”

Was Suki putting off the inevitable? Almost definitely.

—-

Around Easter, Suki had a couple of days off and was still feeling totally awful. It didn’t help this gave her a chance to think about it. She’d just been so engrossed in work and then so exhausted she’d fall straight asleep. There wasn’t as much time to focus on it properly, even if it did come into her mind at every opportunity. Every time she had to schedule a surgery she dreaded it would be Bryce walking through those doors—but by a stroke of luck it never was. Fate striking again. She did have Ben once, which was as awkward as it could’ve been.

That day around Easter the group had made a big meal and spent some nice quality time together. So in the next instalment of a long line of mistakes, Suki drank too much wine and found herself on Bryce’s doorstep. Which kind of made her cry all over again remembering the last time she was drunk and how Bryce cared for her. How he’d held her and kept her hair back and brushed her teeth and put her in his pyjamas. How he’d cuddled her as she fell asleep. And how apparently that was just a courtesy, not because he really gave a shit.

She thought about what he’d said: if only you knew what a screw up I was, and how ominous that felt now. I’m not sure what you meant, but I feel like the screw up now. No—I am the screw up.

She stared at his door from a distance, before nearing it. Then backing away. Then pacing back and forth. It probably should’ve been a warning that even in her drunk state she couldn’t make up her mind, but clearly it wasn’t.

She neared it, and knocked. Footsteps began to sound out and then when she felt the knob begin to twist she blockaded it on her side.

“Don’t open the door,” she muttered loud enough for him to hear, lolling her forehead onto it. “I can’t do this properly if I have to look at you.” Because even just imagining his face was painful right now. He probably looked so pretty. Unaltered. Just the thought was making her sobs hitch in her throat; but she didn’t want him to hear her crying.

There was a pause from the other side. “Suki…” the tone of his voice was indecipherable.

“I just need to say it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Unawares to Suki, Bryce was directly on the other side of the door, his ear pressed up against it and his eyes shut. It was her voice—he hadn’t heard it in what felt like way too long. He just wanted to rip open the door and see her face. Hug her. Kiss her. Say sorry. But she was right, that wouldn’t be a good idea. So he clambered his hands against the wood beside his head, reaching for the unreachable.

Bryce wasn’t sure how to respond, either.

“I fucked up. Bad. I-” she swallowed down the lump in her throat, “I fell for you,” she tried to control her voice but the tears were relentless, her hand shaking on the wooden door. This wasn’t the ideal situation to be confessing her feelings but it honestly just sort of came out. And there was no taking it back now.

It wasn’t something she was particularly used to… wearing her heart on her sleeve like this. Usually she’d sort of just… fallen into a relationship and that was that. But here she was admitting to Bryce—who’d told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t feel the same—that she’d fallen for him.

Drunk, no less.

“You…” Bryce started, but Suki cut him off.

“And I don’t… wanna see you again. I can’t ever see you again. It hurts too damn much. I know I don’t mean that to you, but I just...”

“But Suki you—”

“Please don’t. I’m going to move on. I’m giving up Bryce for lent,” Suki, drunk, didn’t care that Easter was the end of lent. “I just had to say it first.”

Before she broke too much she rushed away from the apartment and didn’t look back.

Didn’t hear Bryce’s whisper from the other side of the door: “I fell for you too. Long ago.”

—-

All the way home she questioned whether she’d made the right decision. Whether she should’ve just left it.

If admitting her feelings was perhaps entirely idiotic. Sober Suki would probably think so. But there was a slight sense of pressure lifted. She didn’t have to pretend anymore. He knew.

She’d feel embarrassed tomorrow, but that was a problem for sober Suki.

When she got home to see everyone still sitting around the table laughing with their wine glasses she wasn’t entirely sure she was in the mood for it (the whole heartbreak thing probably had something to do with that), but couldn’t object when she was beckoned over.

“Did you get more wine?”

Oh yeah. Her excuse. Oops.

“They were out…”

Jackie shot her an uncertain glance, but everyone was too drunk and jolly to care.

Eventually Suki was able to retreat to bed and follow her usual pattern. But she found herself staring at her phone. Specifically Bryce’s contact.

She’d meant it. She was giving him up. That meant taking certain measures.

She deliberated for what felt like hours, but eventually sent the text.

Suki Moore: Bryce & Suki’s Fuck Buddy Agreement: TERMINATED

Almost immediately her heart was in her throat and again knew sober Suki would regret this. It hurt. Knowing she’d put the final nail in the coffin.

Bryce’s dots popped up. Then down again. Then up, down. Then they never returned. The word read looking more and more like dread. He was probably glad to be free of her.

She found herself wondering how things had changed so drastically. Bryce had gone from being a stranger at a frat party to a colleague with undeniable chemistry to a fuck to… so much more. And now he was worse than a stranger. Her relationship with him was well and truly terminated.

What’s a break-up when the two were never really together?

[angst-king]

Misery love Company pt 5

(mention of vomit, and ablelist behavior

It  had been a week and a half since Katsuki had eaten a proper meal, or felt normal. His entire body had felt like it was burning but that wasn’t because he had a fever, oh no he was cold to the bone but his bones were hurting so bad. Moving hurt so much, moving also made him incredibly dizzy to the point where he collapsed once or twice. These dizzy spells were accompanied by nausea, chest pain, his heart feeling like it would explode from his chest, feeling very hot and then suddenly he’d drop. 

Today had been the last straw or well tonight was the last straw. Katsuki was miserable, laying in his bed unable to be comfortable at all with how sick he was. A trash can next to the side of his bed in case he got sick but. Even just moving to get sick into the trash can made Katsuki feel very faint. Like now, Massaru was helping Katsuki who was busy getting sick into the trash can for what felt like the millionth time this week which made Massaru wanna take Katsuki to the ER but. Katsuki had been brainwashed by Mitsuki into the idea that he just needed to sleep it off but. This time Mitsuki wasn’t home and Massaru was too anxious to care especially when he heard Katsuki gasping for breath, clutching his chest, and whimpering to the point of tears running down his flushed red, and pale pink face. Massaru had to hold Katsuki up when the other’s eyes went back and he went limp, he knew the other had fainted again but this time he listened to his gut. He quickly grabbed everything he needed, and pulled Katsuki out of bed and into his car, and left for the emergency room.

When he got there he carried Katsuki in and allowed them to whisk his son away. Of course they had to ask the usual questions as well as some other ones but other than that Massaru was left in the waiting room. That lonely sickeningly white walled waiting room. Massaru knew he needed to call Mitsuki even if he didn’t want to know how his wife would most likely react though a piece of him hoped she would have a shred of selflessness to get off of work to come and see him.  

Ever since Katsuki’s condition began to make an appearance Mitsuki hadn’t been reacting to this well. She’d been rather dismissive about Katsuki’s complaints of pain, and rather passive aggressive with her replies. Then when Katsuki started getting sicker and sicker she wouldn’t even be bothered to help him. It was as if that was a job completely beneath her. Telling Katsuki to stop being weak or lazy and that he could do it himself.. The frequent fainting spells weren’t helping, making it even more difficult for Katsuki to try and help himself. It finally got to the point where Katsuki could hardly sit up without needing to immediately lay back down because he was gonna pass out.  Mitsuki ignored everything and passed it off as puberty, being a wimp, growing, needing to take care of himself. All her words were laced with a coldness that made Katsuki feel so weak.

Making the decision, Massaru called his wife and told her what had happened and, to put it frankly, her response wasn’t very empathetic or motherly. “Ugh what the hell! I told you not to Massaru!” “i-I know dear but come on, the kid fainted again and he hasn’t been keeping down almost anything but gatorade, and he’s in pain.” “Katsuki is just weak Massaru, he just wants attention and is playing it up to get it!” Massaru was getting fed up with his wife’s protests and replied in an annoyed tone.“Mitsuki, our son couldn’t even sit up on his own without blacking out. I don’t care if you think he’s faking, if you truly loved and cared then you’d come over here.” He hung up before she could reply as he didn’t want to hear another word from her at the moment. Still alone in this waiting room, waiting for any information on his son’s condition was making the man anxious. It felt like hours, upon hours, but it had only been one hour but. Time in here seemed to feel like forever, it went by so slowly yet too quick at the same time.

Finally, a doctor walked over to him smiling. “Mr Bakugou?” Looking up he sees the woman coming over to him and he gives a sigh. “Yes?” He says as he stands up, the woman approaches him and starts. “We’ve got your son Katsuki, stabilized the best we could here. We did some testing after learning his symptoms and well, the results aren’t great…” The way the woman spoke, Massaru had a bad feeling from the start, but said nothing allowing the woman to go on. “Mr Massaru, let's sit.” She says, now he’s feeling more and more anxious about the possible news. Nodding he sits down in the chair he started in while she sat beside him turning to face him. “Your son could’ve died tonight if you didn’t bring him. He was that sick.” That made Massaru want to be sick himself, the feeling that if he waited a day or two longer, Katsuki could’ve died. Still Massaru didn’t know how the boy could’ve gotten so bad or what was wrong with him, so he asked. “Wh-what’s wrong with Katsuki?” His voice wasn’t very strong, it was strained with concern and fear. “Well your son is sick, and I don’t mean that he has the flu, he’s chronically ill.” It hadn’t hit him completely but hearing that his son was chronically hit him but. How could his son just suddenly fall ill like this though? Even with a chronic illness, shouldn’t this have appeared when he was younger? So he asked what he was thinking “shouldn’t this appear when he was younger?”  “Well some things probably did but they never manifested like this or he did and the doctors just dismissed it as something else.” Massaru couldn’t help but feel guilty, his son could’ve been suffering for years and this is how he finds out. Twiddling his thumbs unconsciously and asking “So what does he have?”

“Katsuki has H.E.D.S which is called Hypermobility Ehlers Danlos syndrome. This is a connective tissue disorder that allows your son to be very flexible and have very elastic yet very thin skin. Due to him being very flexible and having lots of collagen his joints are very loose which means he can easily dislocate things and have horrible body pain from it.” Taking this information Massaru had more questions. “How could this condition almost kill Katsuki? Or is there more to this than just horrible body pain?” “Well I’m glad you’re asking these questions because, yes there is more to this disorder. How I explain this is I call this the H.E.D.S expansion back because this disorder has the possibility to contain multiple other disorders and problems and. For Katsuki those other disorders seem to be POTS and Gastroparesis. Though gastroparesis is a theory I’m not totally solid on that one but it's a good possibility that he has it.” This was so much information coming at him at once but he wanted to know how these conditions would have ended Katsuki’s life. So Massaru asked for the doctor to explain the second ailment. “POTS stands for postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Which is a heart condition in which standing or sitting up can cause the blood flow to pool away from Katsuki’s head and make him faint. It can also cause lightheaded-ness, chest pain, shortness of breath, anxiety, fast heart rate, tremors, nausea and vomiting. These symptoms can become very exaggerated during a flare up, which explains why his heart rate was so high but his blood pressure was low.” Massaru silently let everything sink in until he asked1

“so your theory about Gastroparesis? What is that exactly and why do you have a theory for this?” “Well Gastroparesis is a fancy word for stomach paralysis. It's when the nerve that controls the stomach’s contractions that move food from your stomach to your small intestine has stopped functioning or maybe the sphincter of his stomach to his small intestine won't open properly. So his body is digesting things way too slow which can cause lots of pain, bloating, nausea, the feeling of being constantly full or not hungry. SInce his body isn’t digesting his food correctly that means that he’s not absorbing any nutrients through what he eats by mouth….so if he does have gastroparesis they may have to find another way to provide him nutrition.” All of this was a lot for Massaru to grasp but he could also do his research but. Then he had another question. “So how are you guys going to treat my son, what are the plans?” “Well Mr Bakugou, I suggest that your son be transferred to a long stay facility because his condition is not good and we can’t do what a pediatric long stay hospital can do.”

That’s when he knew Katsuki’s world had officially turned upside down. Massaru couldn’t help but feel terrible. If he had waited any longer, if he’d listened to his wife, they may not have woken up the next morning to see Katsuki with a pulse. If he hadn’t listened to his own instincts Massaru would have never forgiven himself. Now his son was gonna have to be transferred to a long stay hospital and he knew Katsuki wasn’t gonna take this well at all. Still he wanted to see Katsuki and knew this information would be accepted better than it would coming from him than the doctor. “We can admit him, but can I see my son please?” “Sure, he should be waking up. He did faint on us when we had to get blood drawn and hooked him up to some IVs. Your son definitely has anxiety around needles, I can tell you that for sure.” She chuckles a little while standing up from her seat, Massaru follows suit and is led down the hallways to find Katsuki.

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. HOLDING HER OWN EYES

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. THE SAW

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. JANE?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. THE VAMPIRE

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. THE SPITTER

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. THE ONLY ONE

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. UNDER THE BED

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. TIME OF DEATH

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way. They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. THE TEST SUBJECT

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. THE BOY WHO LOVED KNIVES

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. THE NEW MOM

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. BUGS

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?