#and when he heard me talking to my doc and re-telling him that oh the hair isn't natural
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sergle · 1 year ago
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I think my favorite thing about doing ginger red hair instead of cherry red hair is: lying to people about it
#I love the cherry red / wine red and I'll probably go back at some point bc it's my Origin.#but for now.#I don't actively lie to people but bc it's a Natural and Plausible hair color#and I'm already pale and I dye my eyebrows to match my hair. ppl figure it's natural#and it has come up MULTIPLE TIMES. and I've recently been rolling with it instead of correcting ppl. bc who cares?#recent examples that come to mind (but I did correct them in this one) my surgeon assuming it was natural#and using my genetics as a natural redhead as a baseline to tell me about what I can expect from my future scarring#and then again later with the anesthesia. they were going to dose me differently#the anesthesiologist glanced at me when I came into the OR and was getting the stuff ready on his cart#and when he heard me talking to my doc and re-telling him that oh the hair isn't natural#he was behind the curtain like FUCK#taking shit off his cart and quietly redoing his setup#that's how I learned that redheads need higher doses of anesthesia than other ppl.#they also need more of the topical stuff like lidocaine. apparently they metabolize it faster(?)#ANYWAY he was going to up my dose thinking I needed it lol#so i almost got way more sedatives and pain meds than i needed bc of my hair dye LMAOOO#other more Normal Life examples was a country dude in full hunting gear holding a door open for me someplace#and I said thank you and he lifted his hat up to point at his (natural) red hair and said ''twins!''#this one sticks with me because that was such a cute thing to do. what the hell#and at snakefest I was talking to some people at their food truck. there was an older guy who trapped me into a convo for like 30mins#he was Very Nice. and they were going to some type of irish festival next and said I should go too bc I'll be right at home#flat out just was like. this bitch looks irish#and I don't know why all of this is so funny to me. it has no reason to be.
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hyperionshipping · 1 year ago
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i may be biased, but ive loved getting to see ur liveblogging of dw!! i also wanted to ask, what do you think nine, ten, and eleven would think about your feelings towards a certain captain? :3c
I'm so glad you're enjoying the liveblogging!! Series 5 is definitely gonna be fun because it'll be a little bit till we get to "new" episodes for me!!
This being said, KIT. STOPPPPP!!!! THERE IS NO FEELINGS!!!!! FOR ANY CAPTAIN!!!! CAPTAIN? I DON'T KNOW ANYONE I'D CALL THAT *JUMPS OUT THE WINDOW*
*ahem* Anyway. Well. This being said. I can give you totally hypothticals on their reactions
Nine:
Okay I think nine is the least surprised or like "oh no absolutely not" of the three. My partner made the joke 9 was the one who me and him both look at him and just nod.
If anything I think he tries to scare Harkness via like "ohhh just wait till you're in the dark. He's completely different" or he's telling the two of us to behave and just Smiles when I sputter and start yelling and Harkness looks between the two of us just "I don't know what's being said here other than when you talk Doctor, but I know it's all about me"
I also think he'd be least surprised if anything happened but would put his hand on my shoulder like "now Tricks. Isn't he a little old for you?"
Ten:
The fucking. Dadness if he learned. IT'S SO BAD. He doesn't let us be alone and he's always always like "that's ENOUGH Jack" (like the one episode where he was like "what I can't even say hello?"). All the time he's Judging crossing his arms and ushering us onwards.
He's like "I don't care he's your friend the flirting is terrible" like. DOC I can see that!!!! Don't you think I've tried stopping him???
Ten I think would catch on quicker than 9 re: MY feelings. Just gives me A Look tm when I say shit like "My Captain..." "And the Captain said?" and especially the like once or twice? I ever call him Jack.
"Your Captain huh?"
"......Not like that. NOT like that."
"Then why do you say it like that?"
"I say it like NOTHING."
Eleven:
This is a really good question for him specifically. Since they don't Meet.
Firstly and I must say this, I don't think Harkness would love 11 as much as he did Ten, and certainly not as much as 9.
He's just.... Different.
But! That's not gonna stop him when he sees "MY FAVORITE DEMON!" And instantly 11 is looking so so fast already abandoning whatever he was once doing to go ":) who's your friend? Oh!"
And with 11 I would be even MORE like insistent on "NONONONO DAD HE'S JUST A FRIEND. ONLY A FRIEND."
And Harkness would just smile and wrap an arm around me to say I've said that for years! I love a slow burn"
11 would be sooo excited to include him on more adventures and like Well! The TARDIS always has room for people from the past. He asks me point blank if I like him and I lose my shit like!!! No!!!!!!
He's totally oblivious like "Oh :)!! Okay you do like him." and I beg him to not say anything he should know it'll go straight to the Captain's head. He's already asking Jack if he's ever heard me purr and it's one of the few times he's like "hey maybe this new face isn't as bad as the last!"
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thequietmanno1 · 2 years ago
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Thelreads, MHA 269, Replies
1) “Nope, no flashback to Aizawa, Mic and Cloudy, we`re still at the lap of Napiness, right as Shigaraki`s about to wet his bed- well, wet his floor with his bed that is.”- What’d you expect when his alarm clock was the equivalent of an air-raid siren? 2) “Now please let`s go to the next page because she`s scaring me”- Sorry to say, the nightmare fuel doesn’t exactly run dry by this point. Shit’s gonna get dark here, mark my words. 3) “Oh, right, he needs an activation command. Well, I think the Doc can still hit a few buttons and unleash him, so y`all better move yo asses there ASAP, because the alarm is about to be turned off.”- Mirko moves super-fast, but sound is even faster, Doc never had a hope of pressing that button once Mic had a clear line of fire. 4) “Oh, sorry dude, you think you can actually stop Mic? Well, prepare for the biggest ��fuck off” you ever heard on your entire life. “- He reserved that for Tomura – and more importantly, the Doc. Gotta a nice big earful of that slammed into his head before Mic’s fist did. 5) “OH SHIT I THOUGHT THAT THING WAS REALLY GOING TO BREAK ANY SECOND, HOW THE FUCK IS IT STILL HOLDING UP?”- The Doc wanted Tomura as protected as he could possibly before from outside interference – and also, given the tank seems to be similar to the one the High-end were incubated in, they’d need to be strong enough to contain them if they tried using their enhanced strength to break out. Granted, it’s unclear if this would stop Tomura if he wanted to break out, but luckily, he’s still not conscious… 6) “I CAN HEAR THE DUCKTALES MOON THEME PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND”- Well, he sure couldn’t, after getting his eardrums blown out by that sonic boom. 7) “OH THAT`S GONNA BE A GOOD PUNCH, ISN`T IT?
THERE`S NO TIME TO THINK ABOUT THE PAST MIC, BREAK EVERY TEETH THAT MAN HAS, SHOW HIM THE POWER OF THE BANANA HAIR, GO YOU LITTLE FUNKY LOUD MOONMAN “-The first of many, many karmic blows against this man to come. Karma has arrived, and it’s gonna be a messy one, given what he’s done to the humans he’s been experimenting on. 8) “YEAH MIC, FUCK HIM UP!
PAYBACK FOR MAKING YOUR HUSBANDO SAD! THAT`S THE SHIT! LET YOUR HANDS DO THE TALKING, AND BOY ARE THEY GONNA BE LOUD WITH THIS GUY”-Best part is how Garaki’s eardrums being blown means he can’t tell what Mic is saying to offer some excuse why he shouldn’t get punched in the face, so he can’t weasel out of Karmic retribution anymore. 9) “yeah yeah, cry me a river- you`re definitely gonna be crying once Mic is done turning your face into a pancake.”-This was actually genuinely disturbing for me the first time reading it. Those tears aren’t because his dreams and ambitions have been shattered, it’s because AFO’s ambitions through Tomura have been stopped. He might be a mad scientist, but at his core Garaki is a true-blue Kool-aid drinking believer in AFO’s plans and ambitions, and will sacrifice anything for them. Knowing that he holds such a detestable man on such a pedestal honestly made me hate Garaki even more. 10) “HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
AND THAT ONE IS DOWN
HOLY SHIT THEY OBLITERATED HER, SHE DIDN`T EVEN GOT A FIGHTING CHANCE”- The High-Ends are a unique case, because they’re both crafty and powerful enough that lethal force is the best preventive measure. Them being psychotic villains pre-operations mitigates the morality of killing them somewhat. 11) “OH FUCK THERE IS GONNA BE A TWIST
I DON`T LIKE THIS. I DONT LIKE THIS AT ALL”- Despite it all, he’s still smiling…. @thelreads
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brywrites · 4 years ago
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Lock and Key I
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Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.
[Series Masterlist]
....
The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.
Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.
Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.
“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”
Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”
Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”
This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”
She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”
“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”
“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”
The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”
“In what?”
“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”
Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.
“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”
Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.
“What did you study?” he asks her.
“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”
Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”
“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”
“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”
Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.
The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.
“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.
He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”
“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”
She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.
“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.
“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”
He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.
But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”
He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”
Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”
“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”
“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”
“Like… grade papers and things?”
“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”
Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”
Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.
“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.
“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”
“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”
“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”
The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.
When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”
“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”
“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.
[Next]
..
Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​
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sleepybabyxo · 3 years ago
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Hospital gowns: bloody sheets pt 2
Fandom: Marvel
Character: Bucky barns
Word count: 1.4k
Tw: hospitals, mention of infection, blood and s/h. Mention of injection and needles. Fluff.
Concept: daddy Bucky takes you to the hospital to get you s/h looked at. It’s not good, it’s deep and painful. But your daddy is here for you no matter what and with him by your side you are stronger than ever.
You sit in the back of the car, paci between your lips and stuffie in your arms. Your daddy checking up on you every few minutes. “You doing okay little one?” “Stings” “I know princess, we are nearly there now, the doctors will make it’s all better” “S, scary” “your precious baby, it’s okay daddy is here”.
You pull up into the car park and Bucky unbuckles you seat belt and lifts you into his arms. You clutch your stuffie in your arms as you nuzzle you head into his neck. His scent was intoxicating, causing you to slip further into your little headspace. “Lub chu dada” “awhh, I love you to sweet pea”. As you get through the emergency room doors the lights burn your eyes. The loud beeps and general chatter of the busy emergency room. You whimper in fear as you arrive at the desk. “Why hello, how can I help?” “I hurted my leg” you mumble. “Awh, daddys clever girl” . “Okay let’s get you signed in and we will get someone to see you as soon as we can” “say thank you to the kind lady” “fank chu” you say shyly “you’re welcome Iittle one” she replies handing Bucky a form and a pen. “Let’s go sit down kiddo, can you walk little one?” “Mhm” he places you on the ground and you half-heartedly run towards the a big red cushioned seat. You scoot yourself on to the seat and stare lovingly at Bucky who is signing papers on the seat next to you.
You suddenly feel a sharpe pain, it starts to tingle and burn. You scream in pain. Your paci falls out of your mouth and on the floor. “Baby what is it?” “My leg is really hurting” you say between cries. Bucky slowly unwraps your bandage. Your leg is pulsing, each cut is raised, glowing red and oozing with green and yellow puss like blood. “Jesus doll, Doc we need help over here!!” The doctor runs over, “oh we need to get this sorted NOW.” The doctor grabs a wheelchair and Bucky places you lightly in it. You are in too much pain and panic to think about your dropped paci. And Bucky is too worried to notice. They rush you into a private room. The doctor call for a colleague. His colleague enters and stares at your leg in shock. “This need cleaning and she need a tetanus shot.” You hear the word shot and scream. “No No NO. Don’t like shot. Daddy make them stop. I wan go home!!” He grabs your hand. “Awh princess I know. But the doctors need to fix you up. It’s infected baby and if you don’t get a shot you could get really sick.” “Please dada don’t let them hurt me!” “It’s okay doll, it will only hurt for a second and it will help with the pain of your leg. Daddy is here and he will not leave your side” “wan paci” “where did you put it baby?” You start to panic. “I- l...” you burst into tears. “I lost it dada”. “It’s okay sweetie daddy will find it.” “Please don’t leave me” you cry harder. The doctors turns to Bucky, “it’s okay, I will get one of my nurses to look for it, where did she leave it.” “It must be in the waiting room” a few minutes later the nurse runs in with your paci, “did you clean it” the doctor asks her. “Yes doc” “thank chu pretty lady” “Awh you so sweet, your welcome love” your daddy hands it to you. “You’re a good girl”. “Okay we are going to give her a numbing shot so we can clean the area efficiently.” “Okay are you going to be a brave girl for the doctors?” “Mhm” you mumble. “Good girl, squeeze daddy’s hand”. You grab buckys hand and start to squeeze as the doctor give you the numbing shots. “All done” “see I knew you could be brave” you smile. “Now you will still feel this, but it won’t be as painful” he takes a wipe and cleans your leg, he can now see how deep the cuts are. And can see that a few will need gluing. The only thing stopping them from bleeding was the thick dried blood clotting the gash. “Sir can I speak to you outside?” “Is it okay if daddy talks to the nice doctor outside sweet pea?” “Okay dada” he kisses your forehead and boops your nose with his finger. You let out a little giggle. “Good girl”
“Sir some of those cuts are rather deep, do you mind telling me how this happened?”, “well y/n suffers with quite a few issue and self harm is something she has done for awhile now. She was getting better but last night she had an episode. She told me she was too scared to wake me.” “Okay we are going to have to glue some of the cuts together to stop the bleeding.” “Yeah she is not going to like that, it’s okay I will convince her. Could you give us a few minutes alone?” “Of course, can we give her the shot first?” “Of course doctor” the two men re-enter the room. “Hey princess, the doctor is going to give you the shot now. Can you be a brave girl?” “Yes daddy” he smiles at you. “Good girl” you blush and hide you face. “Okay you ready for the shot y/n?” “I guess so” you turn away and squeeze your daddy’s hand. “All done” “wow that was fast, thank you” “your welcome little miss. I will leave you to alone for a few minutes” “thanks doc” Bucky replies.
“I am so so proud of you baby. You are such a good girl when we are done here we can go to the store and you can get some new stuff. Would you like that doll?” “Yes please daddy!” You kiss his chin. He lets out a little chuckle. “Now I have some news baby.” You tilt you head. “the doctor is going to have to glue some of the cuts to stop the bleeding. I know it sounds scary but it’s going to be okay, because you a brave little girl.” Tears form in your eyes. “Okay daddy, me scared but daddy will protect me” “that’s right baby daddy is here”. The doctor re-enters. “You all ready?” “Mhm” you reply. “Good let’s get started” you close your eyes and place your head in buckys lap. He strokes your head and reassuring you. “Your doing amazing baby” “daddy is here”. A few minutes go by Bucky still stoking your head and reassuring you. “All done, you did really well there missy” “thank chu. Am I fixeded now?” “Yep your all good to go. We are going to give you some medicine to help with the infection and we just need to bandage you up” the doctor wraps a clean bandage around you leg. And the nurse arrives with some pills. “Here you go. I heard you did really well. Your a brave little girl.” “Yes she is. Now it’s time to get you a little reward, isn’t it princess.” “Mhm” you say hiding you face. “Come I then kiddo. Make sure you thank the doctor and the kind nurse lady.” “Thank you for fixing me. And thank you for finding my paci!” “Awh your very welcome. If you have any issues just come back and see us” “okay thank you doctor” Bucky picks you up and placed you on his hip. “You got everything princess” “yep paci and stuffie” “good girl” he carries you out to the car and straps you in your seat.
“I am so so proud of you sweetie. You were so brave. You got THREE shots!! Like a big girl” you giggle. “Now reward time” you giggle again. “Yes baby girl” Bucky chuckle.
I just want to say thank you for the feedback on the first part. I’m am glad that people enjoy it. And I want to say I am so so proud of everyone little, middle, caregiver and anyone else who stumbles along this page who is struggling or has struggled with S/H it will get better and don’t let relapses disheartened you. I am proud no matter what. If you 1 day clean or 5 years clean. You are so brave. My message are always open if anyone needs to chat :)
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mackeydoodledoo · 4 years ago
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I Only Swim Free: Chapter 3
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Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader
Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.
Warning: Jealousy, heavy couple-arguements, domestic abuse, alcohol abuse
A/N: Rather than having this be a one chapter story, I decided to make this thing a whole series!
“Dried up Youthful Fame” - OLDCODEX
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You slide your flip flops on as you hoist your swim team jacket around and through your arms. You catch up to the rest of your teammates and step out onto the floor of the pool. You're overwhelmed with the amount of people that are there. Especially when you looked up and saw a seemingly tall woman with two other girls at both her sides.
"That's Dean Dimitrescu and Bela's sisters: Cassandra and Daniela," one of your team members catches you staring at them
You were sort of aware that Bela was the daughter of Dean Dimitrescu, but you didn't expect them to be here; at your first swim meet.
"I see," you only reply
You get into one of those group huddle things before the game, Bela immediately draping her arm around your shoulders.
"Alright girls, we've been working all week for this one, we're going against our hugest rival; Heisenberg University."
You've heard about them. They've got Dean Heisenberg and Coach Miranda. You weren't sure what her last name was, you've only hear her being referred to as Coach Miranda.
"You got that y/n?" Bela turns to you
"I'm sorry what Captain?" You ask, realizing you were barely paying any attention
"Oh stars, The first event is the 100 m Freestyle, so you're up first," Bela re-explains to you
You nod, however you were nervous.
"You got this y/n," all the girls encourage you
You walk into a different direction, to get up onto the podium as the rest of the girls stand along the sidelines to watch you. As you ready yourself, you begin thinking about how you were going to round the lap before hearing a beeping sound, enabling your body to dive into the water. As you flex your muscles to the best of your abilities, you manage to round the other direction in due time however the rival right on your tail. However, your palm presses against the wall, stopping the clock for your slot. You look up the scoreboard and saw you had come in first, however, the rival’s score time was just right behind yours.
I have to step up my speed...
You climb out of the water and Bela gets your swim jacket wrapped around you. You watch the next several events go down. At one point there was a medley relay however you left that to another member. You did another freestyle event however that was pretty much it. 
“This next event is the 500 m Butterfly,” The announcer says
You watch Bela step away from you. She takes off her jacket and she makes quick eye contact with you before giving you a wink. Your eyes travel down to her bottom and you had to tear your eyes away from her fitting figure.
Girl’s got some figure... Damn shut up...
As you watch her get set for her even, you look up into the audience and notice her boyfriend looking solely at you. You notice how his eyes are giving you vibes that you weren’t enjoying. So you put your eyes back onto Bela, just as the beeps sound goes off again. You watch her form dive into the water and begin gazing at her back muscles as she drags her arms out of the water. You watch the muscles she had to show off flex with each stroke. 
Bela snags the first place spot with ease. You hang around in the locker room as the diving portion is about to begin.
“You sure know how to put on a show y/n,” a familiar voice calls out to you
You turn your head and shut your locker and smile, “Not so bad yourself little butterfly.”
“Little dolphin,” She flirts
She walks up to you and gets into your personal space. you weren’t complaining if you were honest. She tugs on the collar of your jacket and plants her lips against yours. She quickly pulls her lips away when she hears the doors open. you re-compose yourself for whomever interrupted your alone time with Bela.
“Just want to let you know Captain that the Diving events are starting,” One of the members says, gesturing to the other side of the door
You follow Bela out to the floor and sit next to her as you and your team were seated separately from all the spectators. You couldn’t help but turn to where her boyfriend was sitting and you swear he looks closer than he already was. You just turn your attention back to your divers of the team and Bela. You cheer when there is cheering to be done. There was a few more events before the meet ended.
You couldn’t help but look over towards who must’ve been Heisenberg as you’ve taken notice to Dean Dimitrescu as she watches him carefully.
"Now, this just in, we have our very first 1500 m Freestyle event," the announcer says
You and Bela, along with your team and Dean Dimitrescu look surprised.
"Heisenberg you fool," Dimitrescu growls, looking into his direction
"Now, will one member from each team steps forth for this event," he requests
You knew you were the only one who could do it, regardless if you've only swam up to 500 m in the Freestyle technique. So you take a couple steps away from Bela.
"State your name," the announcer says
"Y/n Y/l/n," you say, "1st year Freestyle Swimmer."
Everyone in the vicinity gasps. How could a 1st year possibly swim the 1500 m event? Surely it was impossible. The one swimmer from the other team does the same however, they were a 4th year swimmer. But it didn't phase you. You've swam all your life. All the preparations have come for this moment. You look up and notice Dean Dimitrescu talking to the announcer.
"We will take a 10 minute recess," he announces
You immediately bolt for the locker room, finally shedding your unphased nature, to reveal a scared 18 year old. You immediately plug in your music to play your one song you play before every meet. However, you needed it. You could feel someone's presence next to you and an arm wrap around you. You knew the familiar sort touch: Bela. You take out one earbud for her to listen to the song with you like you did on the rooftop last night.
"Its okay to be nervous," she says
You lay your head against her shoulder, "Is it? Because that girl clearly has the same build as I do... What if she's faster than me? We've seen her do multiple events."
"But this is your time to shine y/n," Bela puts a finger under your chin to look up at her, "You only swim free, right? So show that to everyone. Show them what you show me during practice."
You stop playing your music when you could hear the mic giving feedback, hinting that you needed to get yourself back out there for the event. There was no turning back. However, Bela was right next to you as you exited the locker room, feeling like an entire different person.
Let's do this y/n....
You put on your swim cap and goggles and get up on the podium to leap off of. The rival member get onto the one right next to you.
"Ready," the announcer says
The both of you lift your legs in preparation for the leap. A beep sound echoes in the arena as both you and your rival leap into the water.
30 laps in a 50 meter pool.... You got this, just PUSH through!!
You could hear the song that you were playing in the 10 minute recess, giving you a confidence boost. However only 15 laps in, and your rival is still on your tail. You were ahead by a hare, not too much but you were pulling the lead spot. However, when you turn your head to take a deep breath, you could see that the rival swimmer was beginning to pull ahead on the 28th lap.
Step it up y/n... GO!!!!
You begin to put more power into your calves and move them even faster than you normally swim. You flip and round the last stretch just before the rival swimmer could.
Come on!!
You began to feel on fire. Your calves, lungs and arms. You could tell your pace was beginning to slow down as the rival swimmer began pulling ahead.
NO! Come on y/n come on... Go against the waves and go beyond your limit!!!!
Feeling like you had been given some kind of healing power you began to quicken your pace. You reach your hand out to touch the other end of the pool, however, the rival swimmer did so as well. As your head broke the surface of the water, you look up at the scoreboard and see Dimitrescu University in the first place spot. You and your team cheers as Bela comes running over to you to help you out of the water. Once you place your right foot onto the solid ground you wince in pain. Bela was the only one who noticed you falling onto your knees. She picks you up and has you put half of your weight onto her.
"I think I overdid it on that last stretch," you groan in pain
Your family comes running over to you as Bela transfers you over in their care. Your mother puts your swim jacket around you she begins taking you to the locker room to get changed.
"Heisenberg you idiot," Dean Dimitrescu walks up to him, "You did this on purpose to get one of my girls to injure themselves-"
"That kid over did her swimming technique, but you did win right?" He asks, "So you have nothing to complain about."
He walks over to his female division swim team.
You tell Bela you’d meet her at the restaurant after your trip to the doctor’s office and she’d give you the details and directions.
"Is it serious doc?" You ask, groaning in pain, trying to stretch out your injured calf gently
"It’s not severe thankfully," he says, “However, I’d suggest you use a calf brace for the next couple of weeks. You shouldn’t swim until after two weeks.”
You sigh...
Two weeks huh? I don’t know if that’s worse or not... 
When the doctor had discharged you from his office your parents stop by a convenient store to get you that calf brace.
When you came through the doors of the restaurant after following Bela’s address she had given you, your team turns to you and applauds you, noticing Dean Dimitrescu and Bela’s sisters with the team as well. The three were, too, applauding for you. Bela immediately stands up to help your limping body and into a chair right next to her.
“Quite the stunt you pulled miss y/l/n,” Dean Dimitrescu, “How are you feeling?” 
“Better than after the meet Dean Dimitrescu,” You say, “Thank you.”
“Bela’s told us so much about you,” She adds
“Is that so?” You ask, looking at Bela, who was clearly blushing
“I’m starting to think Bela will finally leave her deadbeat boyfriend,” Daniela teases
Cassandra elbows Daniela in the side and Daniela winces in pain. 
“Oh- I uhhh I wouldn’t want to intrude on their relationship,” You lie, “Bela sure looks happy with him. He’s pretty lucky himself. Speaking of which, where is he?”
“Ditched Bela for the boys,” Daniela says
Cassandra again elbows Daniela in the side.
“Ow! It’s true,” Daniela groans 
“Well, let’s forget about him,” One of the team member says, raising her glass
“We celebrate us tonight,” another team member says
“Cheers to that,” You say
“Cheers to y/n and her sweet victory today,” Bela adds
You look at Bela and smile at her, feeling your cheeks slightly heat up. Everyone applauds you once more.
“So y/n how long have you’ve been swimming?” Daniela asks
“Pretty much when I was 5 when I went to the beach for the first time,” You say, “I felt the current of the water and somehow, I knew swimming was it for me.”
“What was your style back in high school?” Cassandra asks, with her head down
“I specialize in Freestyle and-”
“’I only swim free’ is what she says,” Bela exaggerates
You look at her, slightly a mix of amusement and unamusement written across your face you you continue drinking your water.
“I would sometimes do other strokes when I’m at the gym my parents run,” You add, “Most of the time I swim free...”
“See you only swim free,” Bela laughs
You lean into her shoulder as she places her head on top of yours.
After the tiny celebration outing, Bela offered you a ride back to your apartment. It was a silent ride though.
“You okay Bela?” You ask, breaking the silence
“I don’t know,” She sighs, “Lately he’s been ditching me for what he calls ‘time with the boys’... I feel like he’s no longer... Into me you know?”
“I wouldn’t” You sigh, trying to make light jokes, “But like our team says, you don’t need him. You’ve got them, your sisters, your mother... And me.”
“That’s true,” She smiles, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”
You nod and hop out of her car. You watch her drive off. You were worried for Bela. You really didn’t want to intrude on her relationship with her boyfriend, you have managed to put your little crush aside however, it never left. You just don’t let it get the best of you when you’re around her. 
We’re falling... Oh lord... How much longer will it be until we hit the ground?...
You walk into your apartment and make a quick shower to shower off the chlorine from the meet. 
Chapter 4
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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 years ago
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Imagine # 775
2,183 - Words
Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)
If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.
Gif credit goes to - Unknown.
Year posted - 2021
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Curled up in bed comfortably, (Y/n) tried desperately to fall asleep. Yet as the minutes ticked by she found herself restless, and inevitably annoyed. With a distraught sigh (Y/n) sat up in bed, flinging her blankets away from her body. The moment the cool air of her room hit her bare legs (Y/n) shivered, but as she rubbed her face tiredly, a loud ringing sound rang through the room. The sound and pitch being loud enough to make (Y/n) cry out, her hands covering her ears and her eyes screwed shut. Hissing in pain she fell from her bed, but instead of hitting the floor she continued to fall. In an instant her eyes sprung open and (Y/n) screamed, she was falling from the sky at rapid speed. She hit the pavement with a painful grunt, the air being knocked from her lungs, and her head spinning. Dr. Schreber had nearly jumped out of his skin when this strange looking woman landing a few feet away from him on the sidewalk. "Ah." (Y/n) hissed under her breath as she tried to move, freezing when she someone called out to her. "Don't move!" Schreber cried out with worry, as he hobbled to her side as quickly as he could. (Y/n) frowned as she looked up to the man, as he slowly knelt beside her, his hands upon her face as he looked into her eyes. "I'm a Doctor." He murmured softly, as he continued to observe her, looking for any wounds. "Where am I Doc?" (Y/n) licked her lips, holding back a hiss of pain as he helped her sit up. "You don't know?" He frowned a little confused. "Look Doc about twenty seconds ago I was laying in my bed in (Y/h/t), next thing I know there was this deafening ringing, then I was falling from the sky." (Y/n) pointed to the dark sky, to which Schreber looked up, half expecting to see some portal or something. "How I didn't die on impact is freaking me out." (Y/n) added before she observed her surroundings, frowning as she took note of the cars lining the streets. "Check that... This place is freaking me out." She looked to the Doctor, who looked rather alarmed and nervous. "I-I can help you." He stammered. "How?" (Y/n) wondered aloud as she stood to her feet, the cold night air nipping at her exposed skin, as she stood there in her night time attire. "I can't e-explain here, please come with me." The Doctor looked around frantically, walking off in the opposite direction a moment later.
Following the Doctor (Y/n) ignored the strange looks she was receiving from the people they passed. "I-its safer in here." He waved for her to follow, leading her into the indoor pool. "Safe from what, Jason Voorhees?" (Y/n) murmured to herself, her eyes almost hypnotically casting to the ceiling, smiling faintly at the sight of its artistic beauty. "You can change in here." The Doctor showed (Y/n) into a more private room. "Excuse me?" (Y/n) arched a brow at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's safer in the water, please trust me. I want to help you." He encouraged her, and while part of her told her these were some serious red flags, she indulged his wish. Stepping into the room she found a locker with a clean swimsuit, however when she looked at it she sneered. "So not happening." She sighed under her breath, looking around she attempted to find something more to her liking. However after a few minutes with no success she simply exited the room, finding the Doctor waiting in the water. "You didn't change." He pointed out with a distraught frown. "Please you need-" (Y/n) was quick to silence him by holding her hand up. "You're the strangest Doctor I've ever met, however I feel inclined to trust you. But before I do as you ask, I want to know your name." (Y/n) rest her wight on one hip, propping her opposite hand onto the opposite hip. "M-my name i-is Doctor Daniel Schreber." He stammered with a small blush, his eyes involuntarily trailing up her bare legs. "My names (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n)." She introduced herself before she stripped herself of her tee shirt and shorts, leaving her in a matching set of bra and panties. "Oh!" Daniel squeaked in surprise, quickly averting his eyes elsewhere.
(Y/n) sat at the edge of the pool before she slipped in slowly, the temperature difference sending a shiver up her spine. "So Doctor Schreber, why are we here?" (Y/n) asked as she slowly swam closer to his side, tilting her head with a faint smile at Daniels nervousness to look at her. "B-because t-this." He cut himself off, taking a deep breath before he continued. "This is the safest place to talk." He explained, trying to focus his eyes on (Y/n)'s, finding the sight of the supple looking flesh of her breasts almost unbearable. "Safest from who?" (Y/n) asked as she moved to sit beside Daniel. "The Strangers." He pushed his glasses up a little, quickly glancing around them to make sure they were alone. "Please... I need you to tell me everything that happened, before they find us." Daniel was almost whispering. "I already did. I was at home trying to fall asleep, but I couldn't. In my frustration I pushed off my blankets and was rubbing my face when this loud ringing started. I covered my ears and fell from my bed, but I never hit my bedroom floor. Instead I just kept falling, when I opened my eyes I was falling from the sky. I hit the ground, and then you came to me." (Y/n) explained, only confusing Daniel further. "Where did you come from?" He murmured with a tilt of his head. "(Y/h/t)?" (Y/n) frowned with confusion. "I've never heard of it." Daniel mirrored her frown. "Am I dead Doctor Schreber?" (Y/n) whispered softly. "No I don't think so." Daniel shook his head dismissively. "Then why is this place familiar to me?" (Y/n) whispered even quieter. "I don't know... I've never seen you before... I've never seen anyone like you before." Daniel admitted, quickly sparring a glance at one of her tattoos. "Good observation Doctor." A voice called out as a tall man dressed in all black entered the room, Daniel gasped in surprise, fear pooling within his eyes. While (Y/n) simply looked at the new man with questioning eyes. "Who are you?" (Y/n) asked, ignoring the fact that Daniel was swimming back to stay away from the approaching man. "Mr. Book." He stood up a little straighter. "Right." (Y/n) rose her brows with mocked sarcasm. "And who are you?" Mr. Book asked in a bored tone. "(Y/n)." She only offered her first name, not trusting this man like she had the Doctor. "Well then (Y/n) I suggest you get out of the water." Mr. Book waved his hand towards the pool ladder. "And if I don't want to?" (Y/n) argued. "(Y/n) please do as he says." Daniel whispered pleadingly. "You should listen to the Doctor." Mr. Book mused, (Y/n) looked to Daniel, finding his fearful gaze locked onto her. "Fine." She exited the pool, Daniel following behind her when Mr. Book demanded his presence as well.
"Sleep." Mr. Book waved his hand in front of (Y/n)'s face, who frowned at him. "What are you doing?" She scowled taking a small step back, both Mr. Book and Daniel looking at her with astonishment. "Sleep." Mr. Book tried again, this time however (Y/n) shoved his hand away. "Fuck off." She hissed, thoroughly annoyed with the pale humanoid being. "Fascinating." Daniel muttered with an amazed grin. Mr. Book however was not quite so amused, trying to throw her back like a ragdoll with his powers. "Why are you looking at me like that?" (Y/n) frowned at the stranger. "What are you?" The stranger frowned when his powers failed to work on her. "I could ask you the same question." (Y/n) retorted, unknowingly making Daniel internally snicker. "You're coming with us." Mr. Book concluded, two more of his companions entering the building. "No." (Y/n) crossed her arms, ignoring the cold chill that ran down her body, caused by both the beings presence, and the fact that she was still dripping wet from the pool. "That wasn't a request." He retorted as he pulled out a knife, Daniel wanted to intervene, but he was afraid it would only make matters worse. However (Y/n) simply rolled her eyes as she uncrossed her arms, pushing passed Mr. Book she grabbed her clothes and pulled them back on. "Fine." She sighed as she re approached him, crossing her arms again. Daniel found her bravery both admirable, and worrying. Mr. Book allowed Daniel to get dressed before he and his companions escorted them out of the building, leading them down below into the strangers lair. As (Y/n) observed her surroundings, she linked her arm with Daniels, momentarily starting the man. She smiled softy at that, leaning in to his side she whispered into his ear. "I remember why this is so familiar now." His eyes widened as he turned his head to look at her, a blush fanning his cheeks when she winked, keeping her arm linked with his.
"I'm of no danger to you all you know." (Y/n) stated casually, Mr. Book stopped walking, turning to look at her. "I've been trying to will that knife of yours through you, and it ain't working." She whispered dramatically, her free hand beside her mouth. "I can't do what you do, your mojo just don't work on lil old me." (Y/n) added with a small giggle. "How can you know what we were thinking?" Mr. Book glowered down at her. "I don't know what you're thinking, I just happen know what conclusion you all jumped to, because well I hate to be the one to tell you. But you're not real, at least not in my world. In my world you're all just characters in a movie that come out in the late 90s. However by the looks of things, this is set before that timeline." (Y/n) shrugged casually, her words momentarily stunning everyone within ear shot. "He's played by Kiefer Sutherland, one of my all time favorite actors." She added pointed her free hand to Daniel. "I just didn't realize it earlier, guess I was still in a daze from that blow to the head." (Y/n) admitted to Daniel specifically, his shocked face undeniably adorable. "If you don't believe me, you should know that I was born (Y/b/d) and I was living somewhat peacefully in the year 2021, even with a global pandemic going on since the very end of 2019." (Y/n) pointed to herself with her free hand. "Hence why I look so strange compared to everyone else here in Dark City." She smiled faintly, giggling to herself when the strangers began chattering among themselves in their native language. "Is all of that true?" Daniel whispered. "Yeah." (Y/n) nodded her head, with a grin cast his way.
After a few hours of the strangers asking (Y/n) questions about this and that, along with some tests they demanded to run. She was allowed to leave with Doctor Schreber, with her memories intact. (Simply because they couldn't alter her memories along with everything else.) With an almost exhausted sigh, both she and Daniel sat down on the couch in his apartment. "Is it true that, that Sutherland fellow is one of your favorite actors?" Daniel hesitated to ask after a moment. "Oh yeah, he's a good actor. It also helps that I find him incredibly handsome. Plus I have a weakness for blondes." (Y/n) admitted shamelessly, her words causing a blush to bloom on Daniels cheeks. "O-oh." He stuttered bashfully. "Did... Did you like the movie, this one?" He asked after he gathered his composure. "One of my favorites." (Y/n) smiled as she turned her body to look at Daniel. "You're my favorite character." She added in a whisper. "R-really?" He turned his head to look at her, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Yep... You're just so cute." (Y/n) cooed with a wolfish grin, her words making Daniel all flustered. "T-thank you." He stammered with a nervous chuckle. "You are very welcome Doctor." (Y/n) hummed casually, her tone making Daniel swallow thickly. "I think it is going to be quiet interesting to get to know you (Y/n)." Daniel mused aloud. "Likewise Doctor." (Y/n) hummed. "Please call me Daniel." He murmured quietly. "Alright then... Daniel." She cooed his name, making it sound oh so heavenly to the flustered man.
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Not my best work, but eh I still like it.
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Silva Lining (Saul Silva x reader) Chapter 2
Warnings: Swearing?
Word count : 2.1k 
This chapter was a little longer, I really get hooked on all of the details and before long the chapter keeps getting bigger and bigger. It’s gonna be a whole story so bare with <3 
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The night before starting at a new school you thought was supposed to be exciting, or you were meant to feel nervous, it was not supposed to be spent crying in Tara’s arms after explaining to her what had happened between you and the man you now believed to be your soulmate. You don’t know how long it had taken you to get to sleep in the end, all you knew is that you woke up as heartbroken as you were the night before. However, today is the first day to the rest of your fairy life, so brave face, and deal with the pain after hours.
Technically you didn’t have to go down to the courtyard to see everybody coming in, part of you was just interested, nosy, sick of being surrounded by only like 3 people for the last two months? Let’s just say you had your reasons. So there you were standing by yourself like an idiot, Tara was helping some of her friends move their things in, you noticed a girl with bright blonde hair, stunning, popular no doubt, she had the heir about her, not to mention there was already a group of Fairies crowded around her. Then you noticed another girl, flaming red hair, looking a little lost, part of you wanted to walk over to her, say hi or whatever, then you realised Sky had already clocked her too and was making his way over. Sometimes it was good to fade into the background, it just meant you could see everything happening without seeming too nosy. Like when you notice Blondie shoot daggers towards Sky and the girl he was speaking to, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Dramaaaaa. The conversation ended quickly when another guy, dressed in dark clothing with brown hair snuck up behind Sky interrupting. From the way they messed around you knew they were good friends. Maybe it was the guy River… no.. Riven, Sky had told you about. You looked away, starting to feel a little lonely as you watched friends re connect after time away. You only had one friend so far, and no doubt she had friends already here too, it was only a matter of time before you were on your own again. 
It wasn’t long before the final students had come through the gates and they began to close, you were one of the last ones outside, some stragglers lingering, when you felt someone come up behind you. You could tell instantly who it was, you wanted to be pissed off, but you couldn’t, his presence making you feel more at home than ever. He was close enough that you could feel his breath fanning the back of you neck, but far enough away so that if anyone saw you both it would just look like a private conversation. 
“You should be mingling with others, not standing here on your own.” You could tell by the tone of his voice he was frowning. It angered you. He was the one that decided what you felt for each other ‘wouldn’t work’ and now he thought he had an opinion when it came to your social life? 
“Saul, I mean, Mr Silva, you made it pretty clear yesterday that what we have.. had, wouldn’t work, so why are you concerned about what I do.” You moved away from him as you heard him sigh. You could tell he was frustrated, you didn’t care. In the two months you’d got to know Silva, you realised that he was a pretty dominant figure, he wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, or having someone talk back to him. 
“Listen Y/N, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He gritted out, it was paining him that he couldn’t touch you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, turning to look at him, raising your eyebrow in a kind of ‘are you done?’ attitude. His jaw clenched. “Just stay out of the woods, there was another sighting of a burned one, it’s not safe to be out there at the moment.” With that he brushed past you, his skin brushing yours lightly enough to leave your whole body tingling, he faltered as he felt it too but carried on walking away. You headed off the the Fairy hall, looking back watching his re treating figure, you thought you had been the only two out there, but just before you rounded the corner you caught a glimpse of Headmistress Dowling, staring at the both of you from the top window of her office. 
The hallways were bustling, students squealing and hugging friends, luggage being hauled through the crowds, you had to push your way past, noticing on the way, a lot of people staring at you. You could hear people chattering, whispering, getting bits and pieces of sentences here and there like “Changeling” ‘Burned one” “multiple powers”.. You rolled your eyes, how the fuck did the news spread so quickly. You were grateful when you reached the door to your halls. You pushed the double doors open wide and took in your surroundings. Tara was there, sorting out all of her plants, she looked up and gave you a wide smile. 
“Oh Y/N there you are! I was just telling the girls all about you.” She rushed out and came to stand next to you. The noise attracted a few girls from the rooms off of the main dorm. Blondie from earlier sauntered out, you don’t know why it hadn’t clicked before that she was obviously the princess. Then followed a girl with headphones, a girl with funky looking hair, bits of blue were braided through it, and then the girl with the flaming red hair you’d seen in the courtyard. You stood awkwardly, your Doc Martens kicking the tiled floor. It was easy to see you all had different styles, you were no exception. There seemed to be a colour theme going on. 
“You don’t have to be so worried you know, we don’t bite.” The voice came from the girl with the headphones dressed in purple. “I’m Musa, i’m a mind fairy, that’s how I know what you’re feeling, also the reason you’ll see me with these almost every single minute of the day” she said while holding up the bulky headphones that were around her neck. 
The girl with the braided hair was next to introduce herself as Aisha, Water Fairy, explained why she had the blue theme going on. Next was Bloom, the girl from the courtyard with the Fire like red hair, which was suiting considering she was a Fire fairy. She was the other girl from earth. 
Lastly was Princess Stella. A light fairy, her hair funnily enough as you mentioned earlier, a bright shade of blonde, her clothes weren’t yellow, matching the whole light theme, but you did clock that the majority of her room and clothing choices were shiny. She gave you a smug smile, you knew girls like her back home, you’d been friends with a girl like her back home, she gave off a vibe of “I’m better than everyone else” but it’s probably just so she can hide her own insecurities. There was hope for her yet so you gave Stella a smile, which shocked her. You looked down at yourself, taking in your appearance, heavy Doc Martin boots, black ripped skinny jeans, plain white top and black leather jacket, okay so if they all had colour themes yours would definitely be black. 
“You’ve obviously met Tara, she didn’t shut up about you since we all got here, interesting that you’re from earth too like Bloom, two earthlings in one year, how exciting, and you killed a burned one on your arrival, isn’t that something.” You glared a little at the girl dressed in Green as it seemed she had already spilled some details to the girls in your dorm. Stella mocked surprise, oopsing at the fact that she’d brought up what Tara had obviously babbled out. 
Tara mouthed a sorry from across the room, the earth fairy was harmless and you knew that anything she had said would have been accidental or came out in excitement. “Yup well, I’m Y/N as Tara has probably already told you, born in England, Silva found me, killed a burned one at the barrier in the woods, apparently I have multiple abilities andddd i’m a changeling. Any more questions? I thought not.” 
You laughed and walked over to your room. You shared the space with Musa, just like her mezzanine, you had one directly above, sort of like a bunk bed but it was more like a bunk room. You’d mastered the art of not falling over the railing when getting up in the night to pee which you were happy about. You heard the girls below all talking about what a changeling was, how you’d killed a burned one, what a burned one was, all riveting stuff. The only thing you could think about, the only person you could think about, Silva. Musa looked at you and gave you a side smile. You were going to have to get used to someone around you knowing how you felt all the time. 
“So Y/N, are you going to the party?” Your head peaked up, a party? You didn’t know there was going to be a party but you were sooo going. You needed to let off some steam, do some flirty flirting with the boys and for once be a normal teenager. “I say party, it’s not gonna be some total rave but it’s like a welcome party.” It surprised you that Stella asked. You flopped onto your stomach on your bed. 
“Count me in, i’m gonna go for a walk first though, clear my mind and get some air before. Anyone want to join?” You watched as 4 of the 5 girls shook their heads no, it was yet again Stella who surprised you saying yes. Maybe she wasn’t going to be awful after all. 
Stella was surprisingly easy to get along with and you could already tell she liked you, maybe you’d already become friends even, you didn’t want to push your luck. You found yourself walking by the pond near where the specialists train. You hadn’t realised that that’s where your feet had led you until Stella tugged on your arm a little. “See that guy there, the one with the blonde hair, that’s Sky, we used to date.” Stella linked arms with you. You nod your head and explained how you’d met Sky when you first arrived here. You tensed as you heard his voice, you heard him before you saw him. 
“So, after your classes, you’re all mine.” It made you choke on nothing but air and your cheeks flushed. A few heads turned to look at the interruption and you ducked before Silva saw your red face. He’d seen you though, hiding beside the Princess, he tried to conceal his grin of amusement and then went back to teaching. You looked to Stella, the awkward moment hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. Before you could explain you heard shouting, you and Stella sat down on a near by bench and watched as Silva roasted the living daylights out of a first year specialist for being disrespectful. You could pick up pieces of their conversation, Stella filling in the blanks you didn’t catch. 
“The shield is to protect us from the burned ones”….
“Have you ever seen a burned one.” Silva was pointing his sword at the students face. 
“That’s the thing no one my age has, isn’t that all over now?” The first year specialist didn’t seem so confident now and you scoffed. Wrong, you’d KILLED a burned one, without even knowing what a burned one was at the time. You still don’t remember how you did it, that moment blanked out completely in your mind, the only thing you remember, Silva finding you haunched over the body.
“That’s where you’re wrong, one of the fairies here, was attacked by one on the way in, luckily, something was in her powerful enough to kill it before it could kill her, so no, it’s not all over now.” You could tell Silva was gritting his teeth, stopping from going any further, sometimes his anger slipped away from him. A few people that had obviously heard the rumours turned and looked at you, shock crossing their faces as if they were all thinking the same thing… so it was true, not a rumour after all. You’d finally had enough of the stares, you jumped up, catching the attention of Silva, Stella following behind you as you walked away and towards the woods. 
The very place Saul had told you not to go to. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART 3 ---- CLICK HERE 
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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago
Text
House Call
Neron “Creeper” Vargas x Reader
Request by my #1 @est1887: Ok here goes for creeper can you make it fluffy lol I love a good love story clearly lol: “Anything, just call me okay” “Call me now it urgent” “Actually I just miss you”
Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries, hospitals
Word Count: 4.9k
A/N: Soo this is my first time writing for Creeper and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out! I may have gotten a little carried away...hence the 4.9k but this was a really fun one to write haha. Hope you guys enjoy! xo
Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @amandinesblogofstuff @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo 
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He winced, letting out an exaggerated groan as you stitched up the cut. You knew it probably hurt, but you also knew him well enough to know that he had been through much worse and wasn’t so dramatic about it. You smiled as you continued his stitches, “Pretending it hurts more than it actually does isn’t going to make me give you stronger painkillers, you know.”
He instantly dropped the act as a smile crossed his face, still looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking at you, “What if I’m really convincing?”
Your eyes met his for a moment as you arched on eyebrow, “You’re not that good of an actor, Neron.”
He chuckled, and a genuine pang of pain shot through him as he did so he tried to still himself again. You hated how often he seemed to get banged up, but he was at least a good patient. You weren’t positive that he always took the full amount of recovery time, but all of his injuries seemed to heal with minimal issues so you couldn’t complain. His stitches always stayed clean, and he swore that he always did the full run of whatever types of meds you had him on when necessary. For someone who seemed so accident-prone, he took good care of himself.
There was a comfortable familiarity between the two of you. Friends may have been too strong of a word, but whenever he had to come and see you, or the rare occasions that you had to stop by the clubhouse to patch someone up, you always enjoyed talking to him. Even if it was while you were swabbing out and stitching up stab wounds or bullet holes.
You were putting a light bandage over the stitching so it wouldn’t get dirty. The slice went down the inside of his bicep and it wasn’t exactly the shallowest cut. It would take a bit of time to heal but you had no doubts that he would be back to normal sooner rather than later.
“I think,” you lightly traced your finger along his arm, inspecting your work, “you’re good to go.”
“Sending me away already, Doc?”
You smiled, “You’ll have to come back soon anyway so I can keep an eye on your stitches. You’ll be seeing me again in no time.”
“You always take such good care of us,” he was looking down at his bandage.
“That why you keep getting busted up?”
“It is a bonus.”
You laughed and shook your head, “Right. Well, I’m gonna send your prescription out. It’s a low-dose pain killer. Nothing crazy. Only take it if you need it. You know the drill.”
He chuckled, “Something like that.”
You looked at his arm and let out a small sigh, “Alright. Just because I know how you boys are, and that cut isn’t exactly in an optimal location, I’m gonna give you my number so you can get in touch with me if something starts to feel off or the stitches rip,” you scribbled your number down on a piece of scrap paper before handing it to him, “Anything happens, just call me, okay?”
He nodded, carefully folding and tucking the paper into the pocket of his kutte, “Thank you.”
You nodded, saying goodbye to him before walking out of the room to send his prescription to the pharmacy. The other doctors didn’t understand why you always jumped at the chance to treat the guys from the MC, but you did genuinely enjoy their company. They were all good to you, and you weren’t put off by the ink and kuttes like some of your coworkers.
He walked out of the room while you were sending out his prescription. You only noticed because you could hear all of his friends in the waiting room, instantly starting to crack jokes at his expense when he walked over to them. You smiled, shaking your head slightly—you couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying but you were sure that it was amusing.
Once it was all sent out, you made your way over to Creeper and the few guys from the club who had been there waiting for him to get patched up. They were all smiles when you walked over, and it was impossible to not return the gesture.
“You guys are in charge of making sure that he doesn’t get any new injuries while this one is healing, alright?” you gave them all pointed looks, “And no bikes for him until further notice.”
“They aren’t my parents,” Creeper said with a chuckle and a shake of his head, “I can take care of myself.”
You glanced at the bandage on his arm, “Mhm. I see this,” you laughed as your eyes met his, “Give me a call if anything happens, okay?”
He nodded, “Sure thing, Doc.”
As you walked away, you could hear Angel’s voice, “Give her a call? Alright, ‘mano. Good for you.”
You chuckled quietly as you walked off to see your next patient. There were, but one of your favorite things was the fact that you really got to meet and help so many different kinds of people. Stumbling into the circle of the MC had been completely out of your control, but you were glad that it happened. You just so happened to get assigned the right case in the free clinic a couple years ago and since then, you were essentially on Bishop’s speed dial whenever anything went down. He knew you were good at what you did, and could be discreet about it.
Days came and went, and you hadn’t heard anything from Creeper, or anyone for that matter. You supposed no news was good news, but you were curious to know how your patient was doing. You didn’t have his number, though, he only had yours. So you waited. You waited for a call from him, or a notification from the hospital that he had scheduled his follow-up appointment. Either one would be fine by you.
You were just getting off your shift, walking out to your car when your phone started to ring. You didn’t recognize the number, but you picked up anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Doc,” you recognized his voice immediately.
“Neron,” your tone was cautious as you fished your keys out of your purse, “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t a good call?”
“Because…it’s not,” he chuckled, “It’s not terrible. I just…did something stupid.”
“Oh did you?” you shook your head as you sat down behind the wheel and threw your purse over into the passenger seat.
“Think I could come in and have you fix me up?”
You sighed, “I’m leaving for the day. Text me your address and I’ll just come to you—you shouldn’t be driving anyway.”
“O-okay,” he fumbled over his words for a moment, “I, I can do that.”
“I’ll see you soon,” you laughed, “Don’t do anything else until I get there.”
You were surprised by how close he lived to the hospital. And, by extension, how close he lived to you. Your house was only about a ten-minute drive away from his, if that. You knew it was a small world, but you didn’t think it was quite that small.
You walked up and knocked on the door, medical bag slung over your shoulder. You’d taken to keeping a decent amount of supplies on-hand once you became the on-call doctor for the club. A few moments later he opened the door, a nervous smile on his face.
“You called?” you offered up with a laugh.
You noticed some of the tension disappear from his body as he nodded, stepping out of the way to let you in. You didn’t know what you had been expecting the inside of his home to look like, but what you were seeing didn’t surprise you. Everything was clean and orderly, but it was sparse. He didn’t strike you as the kind of man who was super into interior design anyway.
You took off your shoes, nudging them off to the side as you followed him to the living room. You noticed that he was keeping his arm pinned to his side, trying to hide whatever damage he’d done. It was amusing to you solely because he was going to have to show you what happened if he wanted you to fix it.
He sat down on the couch and you pulled a chair over from his table so that you could sit in front of him facing him. You looked back and forth between his face and his arm, waiting for him to start offering up some sort of explanation.
“Before you get mad,” he gestured with his good arm, “let me explain.”
“Please do,” you smiled as you started taking things out of your bag.
“I was being good,” he was almost pleading, “I was staying home—no rides, no club shit. Figured that since I’m stuck in the house I might as well get a few things around here taken care of.”
You looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Did any of the things that needed to be taken care of involve any kind of heavy lifting?”
“I didn’t think it was heavy! Not until,” he finally showed you his arm.
A few of his stitches had definitely ripped. It would be a quick and easy fix, but you could tell by the look on his face that he felt like he was about to get in trouble in the principal’s office. You smiled as you carefully undid the bandage and started wiping the dried blood away.
“It could be worse,” you said with a chuckle.
You could see the relief in his body language when he realized that you weren’t frustrated or upset with him. His injury wasn’t at the top of his list of concerns—he knew that you’d be able to fix it. He just didn’t want you to be pissed off at him during or after the process of doing so.
You re-wrapped his arm and reiterated your previous instructions as you did, “No rides, no heavy lifting. You are a one-armed man for the foreseeable future,” you reached into your bag and pulled out a sling, “And just in case you forget I’m gonna strap you down with this,” you laughed as you fitted it onto him.
He shook his head, but smiled, “This isn’t necessary, Doc.”
“Clearly it is,” you laughed as you leaned back in the chair.
A few beats of silence passed before he looked you in the eyes and let a small smirk pass over his face, “Thank you, by the way. I owe you.”
You shook your head as you packed everything back into your bag, “You don’t owe me. I’m happy to help.”
You were putting the chair back in its rightful place when he asked, “I was gonna order pizza if you want to stick around. I know I just made your long day even longer,” he chuckled nervously, “It’s the least I could do.”
You smiled, nodding, “Pizza sounds good.”
The evening was much more comfortable than you thought it might be. It was the longest that you’d spent with any of the guys from the club, especially in a one-on-one setting. Creeper was easy to be around though, and he kept your laughing. You really didn’t even notice the time going by as the two of you lounged on the sofa, television on just for background noise.
“I would love to stay,” you stood up and stretched, “But I don’t get to stay home on bedrest tomorrow,” you laughed.
“Can doctors call in sick?” he asked with a smile.
You nodded, “We can. I try to save my sick hours for hangovers, though.”
He walked you out to your car, and you couldn’t believe how dark it’d gotten. You tossed your bag into your trunk and shut the door with a quiet sigh. Despite how long your day had been, you couldn’t deny that the ending to it all had been worth it. You hadn’t expected to have so much fun, to so badly want to stay a little longer.
“Thanks again for this, Y/N. I owe you.”
You smiled and shook your head, “The only thing you owe me is updates. That way I know your arm is still attached and healing.”
He laughed and nodded, “I can do that.”
You hugged him gently, careful not to press against his injured arm, “Take care of yourself, Neron.”
His smile was soft, “Get home safe.”
Telling him to keep you updated was all it took for him to keep in touch with you. Over the next few days, seeing text messages from him were welcome distractions in the midst of a lot of chaos at work. At some point in the morning, he would always send an update saying that he still had both arms, and that he was still wearing the sling. He would usually include whatever joke the other guys had made at his expense that day, just to reassure you that he was still taking it easy. You’d usually text him back on your lunch break, if you got one, or just when you had a spare moment to breathe for a couple minutes.
Soon it was more than just the once or twice a day check-ins. Slowly but surely the conversations started lasting all throughout the day. You obviously weren’t always able to respond to things right away, but nonetheless the two of you kept the conversation going regardless of what it was about. It was the first time in a long time that you had someone that you could talk to all day and not get bored. It was nice.
You were texting him as you were leaving work late one night, drained and pissed off at a call your supervisor had made. You were glad that you had a couple days off before you had to be back so you could cool off a bit and not say something that you’d regret.
“Free tonight?” you figured the worst that could happen was that he would say that he was busy.
You got his reply as you sat down in the driver’s seat of your car, “Yea. You ok?”
You sighed but smiled as you typed out your response, “Shitty day”
His reply was immediate, “Come over whenever. Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon lol”
You chuckled, shaking your head. You let him know that you were going to go home to shower and change and then you’d be over. You hadn’t been back to see him in person since you fixed his stitches. And, despite the fact that the two of you had been texting every day, you found yourself missing him a little bit. Even though it had been a rough day, you were glad that you would be able to stop in and see him.
You knocked on his front door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Showing up for something that wasn’t medical felt a little strange. You had no idea why there was a hint of nerves coursing through your body, but there was.
He opened the door, a smile spreading across his face, “Hey, come on in,” he stepped aside so you could come inside.
You slipped out of your sneakers and turned around to see Creeper staring at you. There was a smirk tugging at his lips and you felt your face get hot. You tugged at the hem of your tank top, letting out a nervous chuckle, “What?”
He shook his head, “Nothing. Just never seen you outta your scrubs, Doc,” he smiled, “Beer?”
You nodded, “Please.”
You collapsed down onto his couch and he appeared a few moments later with two open beer bottles, handing one to you. You took it happily, taking a long drink from it as he sat down on the couch next to you. He looked over at you, concern flashing across his features for a moment. Before he could ask you anything, you beat him to the punch.
“I know I’m not in my scrubs,” you looked at his arm, “But I’m still your doctor. What happened to the sling?”
He laughed, shaking his head, “I’ve been on my best behavior. No mishaps. I can’t go one night without it?”
You smiled, “Fine. One night,” you paused, can I look at the stitches though?”
He shook his head, “No. You had a long day. You’re not here to be my doctor. Just relax for a bit, will you?”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, “Fine,” you sipped on your beer, “No big club plans on a Saturday?”
“Just following the doctor’s orders.”
You laughed, “Man, she must be a real buzzkill.”
He chuckled, “Yea, but she means well.” You gave him a light shove as you let out a laugh. He smiled, “You this mean to all your patients?”
“Just the ones who make fun of me.”
He finally got you to start venting about what had been going on at work over the past few days, but that day in particular. He didn’t say much, just nodding and encouraging you along. He could see that you just needed to talk about it, to be able to be bitter and complain about it so that you wouldn’t combust from keeping anything inside. Throughout the course of the conversation he’d gotten you each a couple more beers. You took them gladly, just happy that you were able to unwind and have some good company.
As it started to get later, you found yourself not really wanting to leave. It was comfortable at his house, with him. You didn’t quite know what it was about it, but you really had no desire to go home.
He’d put a movie on, and somewhere along the way you found yourself leaning against his good side. You settled against him, soaking up the heat that was emanating from him. He cautiously draped his arm around you, his hand resting lightly on your side. You let out a quiet hum of approval and felt the tension disappear from his body.
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of Creeper snoring. You forced your eyes open, trying to get your bearings a little bit. Your head was rested in his lap, blanket draped over you and his hand still resting on your side. He was leaning back against the couch, head tilted slightly upwards as he slept. You sat up slowly, running your hands over your face.
He felt you stir and started to wake up. You smiled over at him as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, “Sorry I ended up crashing here.”
He chuckled, tiredness still weighing on his voice as he struggled to wake himself up, “No worries. Glad you got some rest.”
You got up and got ready to head home, already feeling like you definitely overstayed your welcome. He wasn’t rushing you out, but he wasn’t going to try to force you to stay, either, assuming that you had other things you had to take care of. He still walked you out to your car despite the fact that it was daylight now. He hug he gave you lingered for just a little bit longer, and you didn’t mind.
“Thank you. Sorry again about the impromptu slumber party,” you laughed.
He smiled, “You don’t gotta apologize.”
You fished your keys out of your purse, “Don’t forget to make an appointment for your stitches soon, alright?”
“Was hoping you’d be willing to make a house call for that.”
You smiled, cheeks getting hot for a moment, “I might be able to swing that. I’ll stop by sometime next week.”
The following week, you were making your way out to your car after your shift. Things were a little calmer at work, and your frustration had decreased drastically. You were digging around for your keys when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, brows furrowing in concern when Bishop’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey…everything alright?”
He didn’t sound overly worried, “Yea. Just wanted to ask a favor of you if I could.”
“What’s up?”
“You think you could take Creeper’s stitches out early? Need him on deck for some club stuff. He’s gotta be able to ride.”
You sighed. You know that realistically he’d probably be fine, but you couldn’t pretend that you wouldn’t be worried about whatever it was that was going on. You weren’t going to say no, though. “Yea, I could do that. Was planning on taking them out this weekend anyway.”
“Great. Think you can stop by his place tonight?”
“When do you need him by?”
There was a pause—he didn’t want to answer the question, “Tomorrow.”
“Fuck, Bish. Seriously?”
“I know. I’ll owe you.”
You chuckled, “You sure will. I’ll stop by his place tonight.”
“You’re an angel.”
“Yea, remember that,” you laughed as you hung up the phone. With a sigh, you texted Creeper to let him know that you were on your way to his house as per Bishop’s orders. He probably knew already, but you still felt weird popping by without saying anything first.
He opened the door for you when you got there, a smirk on his face, “Wow. I bet Bishop that you weren’t going to cave on taking them out early.”
“If your arm didn’t seem to be healing so well, I wouldn’t be,” you shook your head slightly as you got ready to take his stitches out, “You’re lucky you’re such a good patient.”
The two of you were quiet as you went to work on his arm. It really wasn’t the worst thing in the world that the stitches were coming out a little ahead of schedule. He’d been careful with his arm, and you really didn’t have any pressing concerns about it. Your worries branched far outside the scope of his latest injury.
“Do I get to ask what’s so important that Bishop needs you to speed up your recovery time?”
He raised his eyebrows slightly, “You really wanna know?”
You sighed, shaking your head, “No. It’s probably better for my sanity if I don’t.”
“You worried?”
You flicked your eyes up to him for a moment, “Usually urgent club business ends with at least one of you guys needing to come and see me to get patched up. Odds aren’t really in your favor.”
He laughed, “I guess you’re right.”
Neither of you said anything more about it. As much as you wanted to stay, and maybe pry a little more into what was going on, you fought the urge. You knew that he probably had last-minute shit to take care of, and it wasn’t your place to get in his way. You slung your bag over your shoulder as you headed back towards the front door of his house. The knot in your stomach wasn’t going to go away until they were all back and safe from handling whatever it was that they were getting into.
After tossing your bag into your car, you turned around and wrapped him in a tight hug. For the first time since he got injured, he was able to properly hug you back. He kept you snug against him for a few moments, and you really didn’t want him to let go.
You finally stepped back, “Please stay safe, alright?”
“Doctor’s orders?” there was a small smile on his face.
You laughed and nodded, “Yes. Doctor’s orders,” you paused, gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, “Let me know when you’re back?”
He nodded, “I will.”
“Good. Okay,” you stepped in and hugged him again, pressing a light, quick kiss to his cheek before getting in your car, “Stay out of trouble, Neron.”
He smiled, “I’ll do what I can.”
A few days ticked by and you hadn’t heard anything from anyone. Which was perfectly on-brand for the MC, but this time it made you worried. You had debated texting creeper, but you stopped yourself. They were busy, probably wrapped up in dangerous shit. The last thing that he needed was you bothering him. Still, though, you wished that you knew what was going on.
You were pulling something together for a very late dinner at the end of the week. Your shift had gone way longer than it was supposed to. You were too tired to cook, but it was also too late to get anything delivered. So you were pulling random things out of your cabinets in the hopes of putting together something that resembled a meal.
Your phone buzzed once on the counter. You glanced over and saw that you had a notification from Creeper. Instantly you opened the message, “Call me now. It’s urgent”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as you called him. Your hand trembled as you held it up to your ear, waiting to hear the worst when he picked up on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Neron?” you couldn’t hide the worry in your voice, “Are you okay? Where are you guys? Are you all safe?”
“One question at a time,” there was a touch of humor to his voice, and you couldn’t tell if you found it reassuring or frustrating.
“What’s wrong? You said it was urgent,” your heart was pounding inside your chest.
“It is,” he paused, “Kind of. I mean,” you heard him take a deep breath, “Actually, honestly, I just miss you. Been thinkin’ about you all week.”
You let out a laugh, some of the tension disappearing from your body, “I miss you too. So…you’re still in one piece?”
He chuckled, “Yea. Me and everyone else.”
“Where are you?”
“About to head home.”
“Can I come over?” you blurted out.
You could tell he was biting back a laugh as he responded, “Yea. Of course.”
You let out a sigh of relief, “Alright. I’ll see you soon.”
When you pulled in, you saw his bike in the driveway and knew he was already home. You didn’t bother knocking this time, electing to just let yourself in. He was standing in the kitchen, looking in the fridge when you walked in. He turned around, smiling when he saw you. Without giving it a second thought, you all but ran over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. He laughed, arms snaking around you and squeezing you tight. You shut your eyes, taking a moment to just breathe him in as one of his hands came to rest on the back of your head.
“I really did miss you, you know,” his voice was softer than you were used to. It was the first thing either of you said to each other since you got there.
You smiled against his chest, “I missed you too.”
He pulled away from you a little so he could get a good look at your face. You could see the exhaustion in his features, but you could see the happiness too. His hands stayed rested on your hips as he spoke, “I know I’m technically not your patient anymore,” he cracked a smile, “But if you wanted to keep stopping in to make house calls, I wouldn’t mind.”
You laughed, hands resting on the sides of his neck, fingers lightly tracing over the ink there, “You wouldn’t, huh?”
“I like you,” you could tell by the look on his face that he was choosing his words carefully, “And I like it when you’re here. Feels more like home. Not being able to talk to you for a week…really fucking sucked.”
You smiled, liking his simple honesty, “I agree. And…I like you too.”
He pulled you closer, fingers drumming lightly on your sides, “Can I kiss you?”
Your eyes widened, not expecting that to be the next thing that he said. Despite the shock, you smiled and nodded. The grin that broke out across his face was contagious, but you didn’t have time to really take it in as he cupped your face and pulled you in so your lips crashed against his. You practically melted into him, hands sliding to rest on his chest. His thumb traced along your cheekbone as his lips moved against yours.
You pulled back to catch your breath, and you could feel his chest vibrating with laughter beneath your hands. Your face was hot and you found yourself smiling when he pulled you close and rested his forehead against yours.
“I guess you were right,” you said with a quiet laugh.
“About?”
You chuckled, “About this being urgent,” you smiled and closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
You rested your head against his chest and sighed, leaning into him. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand sliding gently up and down your back. His arms felt strong, and they made you feel safe. You didn’t know for sure what was in store for the two of you next, but you were ready for whatever the next adventure was.
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nancydfan · 4 years ago
Note
So I have been a fan of resident evil for a while now and I have to say without a shadow of a doubt Ethan is my favorite protagonist. I feel like the rest of the protagonists in the series are kinda the same, you’ve got the police/army guys (Leon and Chris) who are determined to save the world, and then with the rest of them they’re kinda the same, badass people willing to give their all to get rid of evil and return the world back to normal. And that’s fine, except it’s a kind of story that’s been told over and over again and not just in resident evil.
That’s why I love Ethan so much. He is a breath of fresh air that the series needed. And while yes, you can argue that his type of storyline has also been used a lot, it’s something that has never been explored in resident evil.
With the rest of the protagonists, they choose to fight. They volunteer to put themselves in horrifying scenarios for the greater good.
Ethan isn’t like that.
He’s literally just your typical average dude. He has a normal job, and has a relatively normal life which he was happy to spend with Mia until she went missing.
In RE7 Ethan doesn’t volunteer to deal with the horrors that he faces. He just wanted his wife back, and even after 3 years he still loves her enough to drop everything and rush out to find her.
When I finished RE7, I liked Ethan as a main character, but it was RE8 that made me fall in love with him. In RE7 there were a lot of times when he just didn’t respond or kind of reacts underwhelmingly, but I think this is less of his character and more of Capcom trying to make you feel more like Ethan and having him react too much might take you out of feeling like the main character is you.
Of course his actions are still very reflective of him, like when he first enters the house and has to “kill” Mia the first time, when she reaches out to him he reaches right back, implying that he regrets what just happened and that he still wants her to be okay, no matter what is wrong with her.
I know Jacksepticeye said one of the reasons why he doesn’t like Ethan is because he doesn’t have a character arc, but I disagree. Like I said, Ethan goes from not being very vocal at times/ underwhelming reactions in RE7 to I feel the exact opposite in 8; he talks a lot more with lines that make sense, and you can feel his emotions at times even with just seeing his hands. Now one can argue that Capcom just wrote Ethan differently, which I can see.
But I feel as though Ethan has changed- in the first game, he’s scared and confused, and finally ends on frustration as the game nears its end. In RE8 he is angry, angry that his life keeps getting turned on it’s head because of some stupid mold. He is angry, and fueled by his grief and determination to save the only family (he thinks) he has left. He is 100% done with everything and has honestly given his last fuck a long time ago.
And again, this is what makes him special- he doesn’t necessarily care about the mold, about Miranda or any of the “bigger issue” things- he just wants his family. In 7 he just wants to get his wife and get out of there, and In 8 he just wants to save his daughter. He didn’t sign up to be a hero, to save the world from it’s own creations. He just wants his family.
And honestly that’s what makes him more human and alive to me than the rest of the protagonists- the rest of them kind of just feel like characters with their (almost cheesy) need to take on insurmountable problems to save the world. But Ethan is different, he’s just a man who probably just wants to do his taxes in peace and have a normal, quiet life. The rest of the protagonists, though I’m sure would love to quit, wouldn’t change their jobs or their situations because they know someone has to do it and it might as well be them. But not Ethan. If he had the choice than he’d make it so none of this ever happened, and that he and his family never have to be involved in something like this again.
Which is why I think this is what makes his sacrifice so much more tragic. With any of the other protagonists yes we would be sad but we’d find comfort in knowing that they died doing what they loved (saving people), and wouldn’t have it any other way.
But Ethan is different.
He didn’t want to sacrifice himself- we can see that in the way he struggles with Chris to get out, to stay in one piece for his daughter because he wants to be there for her. He went through hell and he just wants to see his little girl grow up. And when he hears Mia’s alive that want only grows more because he has a chance to have his family back, but I think he knows he can’t. He’s falling apart, his body has dealt with so much and kept him alive but not for much longer. And so even though he desperately wants to go back with Chris, after hearing Mia’s alive he knows he can let go. I think another part of why he was fighting so hard to escape with Chris is because he didn’t want Rose to live without both of her parents, but when he hears Mia’s alive he realizes that Rose will be okay, she will at least have one parent. He is so tired, so tired of fighting that even though he hates the fact that he can’t go back with her (you can physically hear the pain in his voice when he says “Goodbye Rosemary”), he knows that it’s something he has to do.
And he isn’t happy or content with sacrificing himself. In fact this is the last thing he wanted, which again is what makes it so heart wrenching. After all the pain he’s been through he doesn’t even get to see his daughter grow up, doesn’t get to grow old with his wife, his painful adventure to get his family back ends just as painfully as he pulls the trigger to destroy the mold.
This is why Ethan is special to me. Ethan is just a man who wanted to be happy with his family, not some stereotypical stone cold hero who would gladly give up his life for the greater good. He is truly unique and in a way I saw myself in him and his personality, which is what crushed me so much when he died. I wanted him to have a good ending and he got handed a shitty end. I really hope Capcom gives him a good resolution, one where he doesn’t have to be a main character at all but at least give us something where we know he’s okay and reunited with his family.
Sorry for getting weepy and deep lol, it’s just I really love Ethan and have no one to talk about how upset I am at his ending lol. Thanks for listening to my rant!
Oh my dear nonnie you’re always welcome to rant in my inbox. Long or not, thoughts, etc. that’s why my box is always open :)
And just so you know, I’m currently crying in an airport lobby over Ethan Winters 😆
I’m on mobile so I won’t be able to properly respond probably except to say you are absolutely right on all of these things. He really is such a stark contrast to the rest of the RE heroes and that’s what makes him so special to me too. He is just a man. A man who does everything he can for his family. All he wants to do is be left alone to love his wife and raise his daughter. I keep thinking of that scene in re8 where he’s talking to the doc. That is the Ethan Winters Capcom refuses to let us see all that much. Easy, happy, carefree moment. There’s a lightness to his voice. He doesn’t care about the problems of the world. That isn’t his job too. And it’s unbelievably tragic that not only does he get pulled into this twice (with three years of suffering for Mia before Dulvey and then the heartache of her “murder” and Rose’s kidnapping), he then dies in the end???? He doesn’t even get the reward to live with his wife and daughter? WHAT DID ETHAN WINTERS DO TO YOU, CAPCOM!!?
also overcome? Miss me w that bullshit. Y’all blew him to smithereens.
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I swear if Capcom doesn’t bring him back in some way I don’t know how I’ll proceed w this series. I love Leon and Claire and Jill a lot too but nothing like Ethan. And I’m super not interested in getting my heart ripped out every few years. Especially w a new protagonist.
Ethan is just the perfect representation of deserved better. He pays his taxes on time, probably helps that old lady down the street whose husband just died. Tells the same joke we’ve all heard a thousand times to the point only Mia and him are laughing at it. He would be there for every parent teacher conference and up at 130 with a flashlight chasing away the monsters from Rose’s closet. The world may be crazy somewhere but he’s content to just be here with his family.
And Capcom took all of that away. I don’t think I’ll ever not be angry about it.
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im-frickin-trying-okay · 4 years ago
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Random BNHA Headcanons
(This is my first time doing this 😭)
Summary: A bunch of random BNHA headcanons. So, basically the title. The only reason I’m adding a read more is because I want it to be easier to navigate my page, lol
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Bakugo is oddly nice when he first wakes up, but he's not exactly a morning person. He's less "I hate the world, why am I awake???" And more like "I'm extremely comfortable and the only thing that can ruin my mood is becoming less comfortable." He likes hovering between awake and asleep, y'know? Which is why if he's sleepy, his guard drops. When leaving the dorms, if he hasn't fully woken up, he goes from "outta my way, shitty-hair," to "mornin' Eijirou," and by the time he's actually aware of what he said, Kiri's already freaking out. If he's in bed all day for any reason other than being sick, he's probably soft for at least a few hours.
Kaminari's the type to wake up at 2 AM with an idea, go to jot it down, and then realize that he wrote a ten chapter book and now he's late for class. He'll probably put it into a google doc or something, so he can continue to add onto it throughout the day. I also feel like he probably will also randomly get a question and then spend hours researching it and any surrounding topics, before rambling to Kiri about "bro, if I went to the beach, I could make a bunch of glass! Probably! Maybe!" And then have to try and convince his friends that he can just make windows if anyone needs them.
Sero had added moves to his skill set, and practiced particular actions, with the sole intention of mimicking Spiderman. When Kirishima questions him on it, he compares Spiderman to Crimson Riot. They have a conversation that's essentially fanboying, both of them saying "we are not bringing All Might into this," and then more fanboying.
Jirou has an extremely eclectic music taste. If you can name a song, she probably knows it. She can memorize full melodies and all the lyrics within two or three listens, because she's just that good. Some people call her the human Shazam, because if you play the first five seconds of a song she likes, she'll immediately know what it is. She's also called out artists if they made a clear rip-off of a much better song. Her music taste is all over the place, which therefore makes it superior. However. This does not stop her from listening to the same six songs on repeat for a week. The six change a lot, though.
Koda has trouble with bugs, especially big ones. They scare him. But he has pretty much no issues with tigers, lions, horses, or even wolves. He loves animals, he really does. If you just showed up at his doorstep and shoved a bear cub in his arms, he wouldn't really question it, because he'd be happy to have a cute animal to play with.
Todoroki believes himself to be the opposite of moody. His definition of moody is switching emotions for no reason. He, personally, doesn't feel any emotion until something happens that day, be it a thought or an event, and his emotions stay fixed like that until something else happens. He could be having a great day, and then suddenly, it's a horrible day, and he can't figure out how people just "get over it." He does, however, find that unless something REALLY bad or REALLY good happens, his brain does a little emotional reset when he goes to sleep. Like, go to sleep feeling down, wake up feeling kinda meh.
Kirishima has considered re-dying his hair. Come on, hot pink is so manly! How could he not consider it? But he eventually resigns himself, because red just is his color now. Also, I feel like once, before dorms, he was really out of it, so he went to class with his hair down, and this was the first time anyone had seen him like that, and everyone was just confused as hell. Especially Bakugo. "Your hair's less shitty today. What the fuck."
Uraraka takes part in stupid bets all the time. Partially for the fun, and partially for the profit. She once floated Bakugo to the ceiling for 26 minutes before she had to put him down, because Kiri said that if she survived, he'd give her a dollar per minute. She ended up having to go to the recovery girl's office, but at least she got her money.
Mina is one of the few people who can understand and keep up with Deku's mumbling. This is not because she specifically tries to, (like Uraraka) or because she's known him long enough, (like Bakugo.) She's just used to gossipping with Hagakure at 4 AM, and therefore can understand high-speed low-volume speech. She's called him out on things before, but only when she's interested. She completely tunes out things about All Might and heroes and whatnot, but if he ever has anything to say about his classmates, specifically about Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugo, (because she, Hagakure, and Denki placed bets,) she hears every word.
Iida secretly loves to break the rules. He acts strict in front of anyone who he respects, or wants respect from, but after he thinks everyone's asleep, he relaxes, doing things that he considers rule-breaking without any remorse. Denki heard someone walking around outside while on one of his late-night internet searches. After finally willing himself to break away from an article about pandas, he popped his head out of the door to find Iida sneaking around. After some silent observation, Denki realized that not only did Iida just get back from breaking curfew, but he casually stole Hot Cheetos from Bakugo's room on the way back to his dorm. He said nothing the next day, at least not directly, but he sorta shoved Sero and Iida in the same room so that they could be bad influences on each other.
Despite it being a major part of her quirk, Hagakure almost never feels invisible. She has a lot of friends to talk to, she can wear cool outfits to stand out, and she is always talking. The only time she's not talking is during stealth training, and when she's using said stealth training to spy on people.
Tsu's little "ribbit" thing is actually just for fun. It feels right to do it, so she does it. Nothing wrong with that. However, pretty much everyone else assumed it was a part of her quirk. It took an insane amount of convincing to get that idea out of their heads. Deku was proud to be one of the few who never actually associated it with her quirk. He could prove it if he wanted to, actually, but that would require showing someone his notebook, which would open a whole other can of worms.
Oh yeah, speaking of Deku's notebook, he has multiple. Six to be exact. One is on his fellow classmates, one is on most pros, one is on the LOV, one is specifically on All Might, one is on his own quirk development, and the last one is a narrative of what's happening in his life, which is why he's constantly thinking as if he's telling a story. He mentally narrates everything that happens in his life, although he sometimes wonders if he's dramatizing things because of that. His internal monologue is constantly running its mouth, and sometimes he ends up speaking over it.
Tokoyami really likes plague doctors. He just does. He wants a plague doctor mask so he can walk around with less judgement, or maybe more, who knows? He just loved the concept. He claims that they're just really cool, which most people agree with, but he's never told any of them that he likes them because he saw a plague doctor mask for the first time at the age of six, and immediately thought bird man.
Sato likes baking, but he can't cook normally to save his life. Well, he can, but he can't. He hasn't burned water, and he knows how to do the very basics, but he can't function without a recipe, not to mention the fact that he's googled how to saute mushrooms three times and still doesn't get it. Baking comes pretty naturally. Exact measurements, precise times and temperatures. Cooking does not. Eyeballing ingredient amounts, guessing if the flame is high enough, trying to figure out how often 'stir occasionally' is. He actually once asked Bakugo if he had advice, to which he responded, "Why the hell are you asking me?!"
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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago
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“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 2 - [Reid x Reader]
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previous chapter // main page // next chapter
Summary: After the conversation in Nebraska, there’s some tension between our favorite genius and Reader. A peace offering, a rainstorm, and some unexpected questions should clear that right up.
Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader
Rating: Mature (not all chapters contain smut, those that do will be marked)
Category: Smut, fluff, and a bit of angst.
Word Count: 2.3k for Chapter 2 
Content Warning: Some slight angst for Chapter 2
A/n: I hope y’all are liking this so far! No smut in this chapter, but I more than make up for it in chapter 3. Promise. 
IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTE: It was brought to my attention that the angst in this chapter appears to be something it is not. I mean, I know how the story ends, so I didn’t see it that way. But it’s a valid concern. I address it in chapter 6, but I’ve made edits to chapter 3 to address it a bit too. Reader is afraid to trust anyone, that is all. I promise. 
y/n = your name
y/l/n = your last name
italicized text are Reader’s inner thoughts.
-- Chapter 2: I fucking beg your goddamn pardon? --
Once we pinned down the gender of the unsub, it wasn’t hard to help the locals close the case. Anna Marie Wilcox, 29. A pretty blonde girl with haunted eyes, betrayed by every man in her life. She just wanted to take her power back.
Cool motive; still murder.
The flight back to Quantico was quiet. Hotch spoke with Rossi before take-off, telling us that he was flying back from San Francisco after visiting his daughter and grandson and that he would see us on Monday. After that, everyone seemed to slip into their own world. This wasn't uncommon. After working day and night to save lives, digging your way into the darkest corners of a murderer’s mind, you needed to decompress a bit.
JJ was asleep in the back of the cabin, Emily sitting beside her while she reviewed some files. Hotch was writing at the small table, Morgan sitting opposite him, eyes closed while he listened to whatever played through his headphones.
And I was on the couch with Dr. Spencer Reid. I was very surprised when he boarded the jet and made a beeline towards where I was sitting without hesitation. He hadn't spoken to me or even looked at me for longer than 5 seconds since our talk at the precinct. I could tell my blunt words had an effect on him, which wasn't surprising to me. I tried not to stereotype people, I knew better than anyone else how wrong those stereotypes could be; but, if I ever had to guess a person I thought would be a submissive, I’d guess Spencer Reid.
My back was angled on the couch, pressing into the corner where the armrest met the backrest, my legs crossed in front of me. I had my phone in my head, swiping mindlessly on a puzzle game that didn't require any cell phone signal to play. I always found myself doing that after a case, it calmed me.
Dr. Reid was pretending to read.
He’s not even being convincing, I thought, trying to keep my face neutral. You read 20,000 words a minute, baby. You’ve been staring at that page for 5 minutes. Unable to resist, I shifted in my seat. I slowly uncrossed my legs, the small slit in the side of my skirt becoming visible at the movement.
Did I wear this skirt on purpose? Yes, yes, I did.
I let out a soft sigh before re-crossing my legs. I watched him out of the corner of my eye the entire time. His eyes followed my movements, his breath hitching slightly. He moved his gaze up my body until he got to my eyes, which he was surprised to find were on him. He cleared his throat before going back to his book, little splotches of red on his cheeks.
I smirked. All you have to do is ask, Dr. Reid.
--
Nothing happened until Thursday the following week. I had all but given up hope that Spencer Reid would finally cave and come to me. Shame, I thought. He would look so pretty when he begged.
The unit's caseload had been lighter than normal, with no cases that required us to travel. We did some consulting and wrote up some preliminary profiles for the law enforcement agencies that asked for our help. We had been traveling so much over the past few months, I think Hotch was just trying to give us a break.
A loud clap of thunder broke the silence of the bullpen. Then it seemed as if the sky opened up a second later, the heavy rain falling like a curtain outside the windows.
“That’s dramatic,” Emily Prentiss commented.
Morgan made a sound of agreement before turning his head to look at Reid. “Have fun walking to the train station in that, pretty boy.” His face split into a smile as Spencer shot him a glare. JJ, Emily, and I all laughed at their exchange. His eyes didn’t go to JJ or Emily though, those caramel brown eyes swung in my direction.
At the end of the workday, Garcia was the first out the door. She walked past the bullpen and gave a big wave. “Goodbye, my darlings. I will see you in the morning…unless there is a terrible murder!”
The team smiled and returned her goodbye. Derek was out of his seat in a flash, trailing after her. I couldn’t help but wonder about the two of them sometimes.
“Bye Spence,” I heard JJ say as she passed the boy wonder’s desk. “Try not to drown out there.” Emily laughed as she walked up beside JJ, standing just a little too close. I wondered about them too, if I’m honest.
When it was just me and the object of my attention left, I got my bag and approached his desk. “Hey, Doc.”
He didn’t look up, making it seem like putting files and papers into his messenger bag required his full attention. “Hi, y/l/n.”
Well, this wouldn’t do at all. “It’s still pouring outside. Do you need a ride? I’d hate for you to have to walk a block in this storm.”
“I’ll manage,” he muttered, still not meeting my eyes.
I let out a sigh. “Spencer.” His eyes finally raised to meet mine. “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line in Nebraska. It was unprofessional. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I continued. “I hope that we can move past this, I really miss my friend.”
He took a moment to adjust his glasses. He never wore them anymore, and I have to admit that my heart sputtered a bit when I saw him in them this morning. “We were friends before?” He chuckled slightly, earning a smile for me. I’d only been with the BAU for 7 months, and while I was friendly with my co-workers, Spencer and I had never had a particularly close bond.
“I like to think so,” was my reply, giving him a small smile. “And if we weren’t before, I hope we can be one day.” With one final look in those eyes, I turned. “Have a good night, Doc.”
I was halfway to the elevators when I heard him. “Y/n!” I turned to see him hurrying towards me. He smiled at me; and it was his real smile, not the polite smile he gave others. It was a full-blown smile that lit his whole face up. My stomach fluttered. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually like a ride. If you’re still willing?”
Still so nervous, even now. “Of course, pretty boy,” Morgan’s nickname for him slipping from my lips without a thought. “Follow me.”
It wasn’t the thing I had been hoping all week that he’d ask me, but it was a start.
--
The drive to Spencer’s apartment took longer than it should have. I was driving slower because of the storm; I was also driving slower because other drivers weren’t driving slowly.
"This type of rain is so heavy it cuts the visibility more than the average storm," the good doctor said. "Under normal precipitation, it's advised that you reduce your speed by at least 10 miles to account for less traction."
“Huh,” I responded, glancing down at my speedometer.
He cleared his throat. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
I risked a quick glance at him to see him shifting in his seat. “Do what, Doc?”
“Ramble,” Spencer said softly. “I ramble when I’m nervous, and I’m trying really hard not to be nervous.”
My heart ached for him in that moment. This brilliant, brilliant, man, the smartest and kindest person in any room, was nervous about talking to me. My right hand lifted from the steering wheel before I could think better of it, touching his arm lightly. “Please don’t be nervous around me, Spencer.” His whole body stiffened at my touch. “Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like to be touch.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I just keep fucking this up, don’t I?” My chuckle was sad, and a little bit bitter.
“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I was just surprised. I don’t…I don’t mind if you touch me.”
I didn’t try to hide the shock on my face. “You don’t, huh?”
I swear I could almost hear the blush in his voice. “I d-didn’t mean it like t-.”
“Spence,” I cut him off. “I know. I was just teasing.”
He let out a small chuckle at that. "Oh. Right." There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "You know, you've never called me Spence before." I simply nodded in agreement. He was right, I hadn't. I hadn't even meant to do it then. He continued on. “Actually, you only call me Spencer when the conversation is serious. Other than that it’s always Doc…or occasionally Reid.” The chuckle that left him put a smile on my face.
“You’re right, Doc.” I glanced over at him and smiled. “Tell you what, I don’t want you to be nervous around me. At all. So, I’m giving you blanket consent right now.” I really hoped I knew what I was doing. “You can ask me any question you want. You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you.”
“…Really?” He sounded almost like he was in awe.
I nodded. “Yes, really. The thought of making you nervous makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel that way in front of me.” My voice was soft, reassuring. Maybe it was the soft dom in me that recognized his submissive, but I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to feel safe.
Spencer Reid took a deep breath before he spoke again. He acted like it was no big deal, but the words he said afterward gave me a mild heart attack. "Okay, can you tell me about your BDSM experiences?"
I fucking beg your goddamn pardon?
I sputtered a bit. “…Seriously?” My eyes were wide, I didn’t risk looking at him.
“W-well,” he sounded unsure now. “You said I could ask you anything.”
“You can! You absolutely can!” I heard him let out a breath. “I’m just…surprised that’s what you went with. That’s all. But…I don’t mind telling you if you really want to know.”
“I do,” he whispered.
I smiled over at him. “Okay, Doc. What do you wanna know?”
Spencer chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Maybe just walk me through what you like to do. Or what you usually do. Or how you got into it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s all?” I shook my head. “Alright. I was 21 when I first got into it. I had a…he wasn’t really my boyfriend. I guess you can say a friend with benefits.” I saw him nod his head in understanding. “And one day he asked me if I knew anything about BDSM. At that time, I only knew misconceptions and rumors; which is why I told him I wasn’t interested. The thought of someone tying me down and doing whatever they wanted to me sounded terrifying. But he clarified that he thought I would enjoy being a dominant. We tried it out a few times…and I liked it.”
Spencer cleared his throat. “So…is that the only kind of sex you have?”
I pondered over how to answer him. “That’s…a complicated question. I’m not not answering. I think I should just explain a bit more first." He made a noise of affirmation before I continued on. "What I do during a scene sort of depends on my submissive. Before anything happens, we have to have a really in-depth conversation, discussing hard and soft limits, punishments, expectations, and things like that." I glanced over, confirming I hadn't lost him. "Like I mentioned, I'm a soft dom. But, I usually can bend to what my submissive likes, as long as I’m comfortable.”
“So, what would you do? If you got to pick everything?”
You keep on surprising me, Doctor, I thought.
“Well, I like bondage, choking, degradation, but only if it’s light and done right.” I don’t know why I felt the need to explain that. “Then I’m fine with oral sex, praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, and pegging.”
Spencer was quiet. “A-and pegging is the…”
“What the unsub was doing to her victims? Yes, Spencer.”
“…Oh,” was all the boy genius said.
I continued on, trying to provide context. “I usually like to build up the relationship a bit before I bust out a strap on, though.” I worked hard to keep my voice even. “I’ll use toys on him first, usually.”
“You didn’t say sex.”
Shit. "Beg pardon?" I asked like I was clueless about what he meant.  
Dr. Reid’s voice was firm; it was the voice he used on cases, the steady voice that explained concepts that anyone else would miss. “You said oral sex. You said you’d…you’d…do that-“
“Oh, for God’s sake, Doc,” I interrupted with a laugh. “We’re less than 3 minutes from your apartment and we’re having a conversation about BDSM. You can say fuck.”
“Fine,” he huffed. “You said you fuck them. But you never said you’d let them fuck you.”
Fucking profilers. “Yes, that’s right. That’s why it was so hard for me to answer your earlier question. I don’t have traditional sex with my submissives.”
His voice was confused when he asked, “But why?”
I clicked my tongue. “That, my darling, is a conversation I avoid at all costs. And we’re at your apartment.”
Spencer glanced around, surprised we’d arrived already, despite how long the drive took in the rain. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. I was already formulating my answer when he said, “Y/n…would you want to come up to my apartment? So we could keep talking?”
“Sure, Spence. If that’s what you want.”
--
message/comment to be added to the series tag list! thank you for reading :)
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myhauntedsalem · 3 years ago
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Real EMTs Share True Ghost Stories
Together Forever
“I’ve had a couple of weird calls. One was a major MVA-head on many, many years ago when we played M.E. as well. We had 2 DOA (husband and spouse) that were killed instantly in a head on collision. They had a 12-year-old daughter that was in between them and they actually took the impact, saving her life.
While en route, we noticed the husband’s arm had come loose so I went back to re-strap it. As I was doing that, the wife’s arm suddenly fell out as well, and her hand fell into her husband’s. My boss was watching in the rear view mirror and helped clear the way as I ran back into the front. It spooked both of us. Apparently the couple (mid 30’s), had just found out he was cancer free after his last treatment.”
Will I Go to Heaven?
“Had a young woman in full liver failure. She was orange in color and she was still conscious. She asked me what I thought it would be like to die. I told her I didn’t know but I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. She then asked me if I thought I would go to heaven. I told her that I believed I would. She asked me if I thought she would go to heaven, and I told her I wasn’t able to answer that question.
She then told me ‘I am going to heaven and I know it,’ and I asked her how she knew that and she told me something that I will never ever forget. She told me ‘I know I am because that man over there told me so.’ I asked what man and she said the man sitting on the end of the bench. I asked her what he looked like and she said ‘he looks just like the Jesus on the windows of my church.’
Well, to tell you I was pretty well affected by that statement. She then went on to say ‘And he says that you are going to go to heaven too.’
We then prayed and I will never forget that interaction between the two of us. About a week later she passed away. I hope she made it to heaven.”
Otherworldly Screams at the ER
“I have had fellow coworkers swear that strange things have occurred in the ER. Two people that I work with were charting at the nurses station when they both heard a scream followed by incoherent words come from one of our open bays. There were three patients in the room and they denied screaming or hearing anything. I have also had fellow coworkers talk about hearing strange voices especially after really bad codes and one person states she felt someone grabbing her shoulder after the doc pronounced a trauma code. These are all respectable people and I do not think they would lie.”
666
“We responded to a ‘sick call’ at about 4 a.m. Dispatch said he was a hospice patient with a history of cancer who had not eaten for a couple of days and had pulled out his medication port. We get there and it’s this poor guy in his early 40’s who is bald from chemo and sitting on his brother’s couch. His skin was blotchy, pale and purple, and he was hyperventilating and diaphoretic. His sis-in-law said he had been pacing from the bed to the couch all night, clearly agitated.
We went out to get the stretcher, and when we came back in he had crapped himself. He just kept saying, ‘Oh… ooooh. No. No. Oooh’ and looking around the room, flinching every now and then like he was waving away flies. We got him to sit on the stretcher, and he said, ‘No, not now!’ We assured him and rolled him out. The medic I was with asked me to get DNR papers, because, ‘He’s doing it right now.’
I walked up to his bro and sis-in law, got the papers, and returned just in time to see him cry a couple of big tears, sob a little, and then crumple. I had to tell his brother he had passed (not easy to see a man drop to his knees in a driveway and wail). Then I got in and prepared to drive to the ER. As I wondered if the man would go to Heaven, I got a bad feeling, like darkness was creeping all around us. I happened to look down at the volt-meter and I saw the number 666 flashing. This panel normally doesn’t flash at all, it just reads voltage. It went 666, then .1, then 666 then .1, then 666 then .1 and then it went back up to 1200 or so and stayed that way. The uneasy feeling went away, but I still prayed the whole way to the hospital. I felt sick as hell all that day, and had a violent vomiting spell later on.
The Haunted Ambulance Company
“This is a true story about an ongoing haunting that is occurring in Richmond, Virginia at a local ambulance company located just off Broad Street near the Willow Lawn Shopping Center. My 25-year-old son-in-law has been working at this company as an Emergency Medical Technician for approximately a year now and he comes home weekly with new haunting stories.
The small brick building was once a warehouse of some type, and during a fire many years ago several people were trapped inside and died. They were Hispanic migrant workers who apparently slept in the warehouse. It is now used as an ambulance company and during the 24 hour shifts, EMT people are required to spend the night in the building. There is also a dispatcher who is always on duty, even during the night hours.
When my son-in-law first went to work there, he wondered why the sleeping cots were set up in the smaller room rather than the larger bunk room. He was told that the larger room was haunted and if people tried to sleep there, they’d feel cold hands on them in the night. He didn’t know whether to believe this or not, but he did notice that whenever he worked a 24 hour shift and slept there, he had very bad nightmares and he’d wake up to a cold tingling feeling running up and down his spine.
They think there are at least two ghosts in the building. The first is an aggressive one who bangs the chain on the bay door, walks around the bay area, slams doors, and puts his cold hands on people. The other is a woman has also been seen in the office area. She was sighted recently when two ambulance workers walked by the office window and saw a short, dark-haired woman in the office. Not recognizing her, they went back to find out who she was but there was no one there.”
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jarvisisbetterthansiri · 4 years ago
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Only Human (sex pollen)
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Word count: 2143 Description: Despite being with Pepper, Tony is only human, and when you are both hit with sex pollen, he can’t control himself Warnings: *NSFW* Dub-con (due to sex pollen), smut, infidelity, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex ~ soft!reader + dom!Tony
A/N: Yes, this has been posted before, it’s still me, I accidentally deleted my account, so I’m just moving to here, and re-uploading my fics I had saved on Google Docs so they haven’t gone to waste. Hope this isn’t too confusing.
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“Y/N, sweetie, can I borrow your hands for a few minutes?”
A slight blush makes its way onto your cheeks at the pet name, and you nod up at Tony Stark - your boss. Your very hot but sadly, engaged, boss.
Your job at Stark Tower consisted of bouncing between offices, making coffee, and helping with the filing. Not that you would complain, it was secure as you could ask for, and the pay was good. Also, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time in the presence of Mr Stark, even if it was from a distance.
He moves towards a glass door, scanning his print for access, and you scurry behind before the door can shut on you.
“Just need you to help carry,” he squints at the cabinet, pulling out a key, “a few things. Careful. Don’t touch anything.”
You cringe at this, eyes widening at the objects locked in the shelves, bright warnings plastered on them: explosive, toxic, bio hazard, corrosive, radiation. Fuck.
Tony holds out a hand, passing you a small flask of dangerously pink liquid. And then the unthinkable happens - your hands shake with nerves, glass slipping through your clammy fingers, and smash.
“Shit!” you gasp, eyes wide as Tony mimics your expression. “I’m so sorry Mr Stark, I-”
“Goddammit!” his voice is raised, almost a growl, “F.R.I.D.A.Y, restrict access to this floor and evacuate the offices.”
He crouches to the floor, reading the label, and curses again, “Increase ventilation and purify the air in this room.”
“I’m so sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to,” you apologise, chest tightening, tears pricking your eyes. 
Tony replies instantly, accusatory, “I told you not to touch anything.” Then he fishes in his pockets for a phone.
“I - it was an accident - I,” you stammer, stopping when he raises a hand, pressing the cell to his ear.
You step back, eyeing the spilled liquid. It was locked away. You’d had it in your hand. And you...dropped it. It was locked away. With the rest of the dangerous items. You really fucked up this time. 
“Banner,” Tony speaks, clearing his throat, “yeah, I know. We had an incident.” Brown eyes glance over to you, sighing, “I didn’t - I don’t have time to argue right now. How long until the effects set in? Son of a bitch.”
He slams the phone on the table, fists clenching.
“What...what is it? Are we gonna die?” you manage to get the words out, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. 
You were so stupid.
Tony freezes, frowning, “You’re not gonna die. Look at me, we’re fine.”
“I’m so sorry Mr Stark,” you say again, and it’s true. More than anything, you can’t stand the thought of disappointing him. 
He offers a smile, kind eyes now like you were used to, “I know you are sweetie, it’s fine. You’re not gonna get in trouble. We’re good.” 
Is it getting hotter, or is it just your imagination? You tug at your shirt uncomfortably, “So what...what is it?”
Now Tony is the one who looks uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact, “It...it’s something we found on an alien ship - a kind of aphrodisiac.”
“Aphrodisiac?” You repeat, hoping you heard wrongly.
He swallows, leaning against the table for support, “We know the species was...well, a lot larger than we are. So, we don’t know exactly the effects but it releases hormones, so extreme arousal.”
There’s a moment of silence, and a wave of dizziness swims over you. Something hangs in the air, a spicy and heavy scent, and suddenly there's a prickling heat clawing its way through your body. 
Your breathing gets harsher, “Why is it so hot, Mr Stark?”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y, the temperature?”
“Seventy six degrees Fahrenheit,” the automated voice rings out through the speakers. But no, that can’t be right.
Tony groans, and your thighs clench at the sound, “Fuck.”
His eyes find you, and he drops his head, moving back, “Probably gonna want to stay over there, sweetie.”
The nickname has you gasping for breath, and a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat. A dull ache spreads through your core as you watch Tony across the room; cheeks flushing at the way his pants strain against his bulge. 
“How long?” 
“Huh?”
You moan, shifting to the floor, fingers fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, “How long will it...will it feel like this?”
Tony pants, eyes fixed on your thighs, which he noted were rubbing together incessantly now, “All estimates...theory is to work it out.”
“Work it….oh,” a sense of dread settles in your stomach, “You mean…”
He nods, gesturing to the table, “Just, I’m gonna be,” turning his back to you, “so you can...however you need to.”
You stare at his back for a second, making out the movement of his arm moving up and down, then feel a pang of guilt at your actions and turn away. Tony was engaged, you shouldn’t be looking.
At this point, your clothing sticks to you oppressively, and you hastily unfasten the buttons of your blouse, shrugging out of it. Another wave of arousal hits and you inhale sharply, unable to even breathe when every movement has your nipples brushing against your bra, and your pussy throbbing with want.
Shakily, you press a finger to your bud, circling it roughly, moaning in a voice that hardly sounds like your own. With every rub you feel yourself becoming more overstimulated, thighs sticky with arousal but it isn’t enough. Fingers slip easily into your core, thrusting against the right spot but it isn’t working. And everything is too hot, too clammy, too much.
Tony groans, fisting his cock furiously. This was not how he’d planned to spend his evening. He was supposed to have a dinner reservation with Pep - he closes his eyes at the thought of her. 
It wasn’t right to be doing this; jacking off just meters away from his sweet young secretary. His thumb drags along his length and he shudders when he hears those desperate little sounds coming from your direction. It definitely wasn’t right to be picturing what you were doing to make those sounds, either. He should be thinking about his fiance, he tells himself, willing to recall how Pepper blowed him just last night.
But then he’s thinking of your lips, and how pretty they’d look sucking on his thumb while he fucked into you. Was it the aphrodisiac? 
“Mr Stark, this isn’t working. I can’t,” he could hear you sobbing now, and turns.
Tony’s breath catches. You’re laying back, skirt hitched up your slick legs, shirt unbuttoned, if you had been wearing a bra, it was gone now too. He’s startled by how scared you look, and just as frustrated at the fact he could do nothing to help either of you.
“I don’t...I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Y/N,” he clears his throat, tearing his eyes from your form, trying not to focus on how wet your fingers are.
You let out a cry of frustration, fists hitting off your thighs, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t...it’s my fault.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Tony starts, ignoring the throbbing of his cock. “We’ve got this.”
“No, I can’t, my fingers aren’t working,” you whimper, “I need…”
Tony glances at his ring finger, swallowing any second thoughts, and lets himself look at you. It isn’t cheating, he tells himself. You’re in pain, he’s in pain, what else could he do? 
“Tell me what you need,” his words are syrup, thick with desire as he wraps his rough fingers around your wrist, the smallest contact sparking you to moan again.If you’d been dizzy before, you were sure you’d pass out now. 
God, you want to die. You can’t imagine a worse situation than the one you’re in now - what are you supposed to say? That you need him to fuck you? You couldn’t.
He moves closer though, finger pressing into your chin, forcing you to look into those honey eyes and see the lust in them, “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I can’t,” you protest weakly, shame eating away at your burning cheeks, “What about-”
“Don’t,” Tony cuts you off, not wanting to think about her right now. Not when you were looking up at him with those doe eyes, exposed all pretty for him. He lets his hand run down your side and squeezes at the curve of your exposed thigh, then adds firmly, “You can. Right now, tell me what you need.”
The words almost wont leave your lips, and you swallow thickly, “I need it. I need you.”
There’s a hint of amusement in his face behind the desperation you’re both feeling, “I gotta hear you say it, Princess.”
“Please Mr Stark,” you cry, fists clenching as the ache between your legs becomes so intense you think you might die.
Tony groans at your neediness and sits on the floor, pulling his cock from the painful confines of his pants. You feel all of the moisture leave your mouth at the sight - larger than your ex’s, swollen head glistening.
The amount of nights you’d pictured this exact scene while you touched yourself, and now it was real. Fuck.He motions for you to straddle him and you obey, crying out when his length grazes your clit. Tony’s breath is quick and shallow, nails digging into your thighs as he struggles to ground himself. 
Then, as much as he would love to pull you onto his cock right now, he restrains, “Do you need my fingers first?”
You shake your head, “No, just need you. Please.”
That’s all the confirmation he needs, and in an instant he’s pushing into you, “Fuck, you’re drenched.”
Another thrust, and you’re a mess, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you’re pretty sure you’d have collapsed already. Despite not being completely innocent, the sensation of being speared by his cock, of being stretched and filled, has you struggling for air.
Tony almost uses your body, forcing you up and down, watching your tits bounce and the look of bliss on your face. God, he couldn’t get enough of that look. Every thrust is harder to get more of that face and your needy little gasps.
“Feels so good, Mr Stark,” you babble, stars in your vision, and this seems to do it for him, judging by the way he pumps into you faster than you even thought possible.
Before you can even speak, you feel his fingers make their way to your nub, rubbing circles. And oh god, it feels so good, but it’s so much. You spasm, clamping down on his cock, crying in ecstasy.
Then, the throbbing in your core is subsiding, and you suppose the effects of the plant are wearing off. But Tony isn’t stopping, his cock pounding into you with a force that makes you choke, hands trying to push off of him. You’re too raw, too sensitive, and the pleasure is so good it hurts.
He notices and stutters his movements for a second, hand moving from your clit and finding its way to your shoulder, keeping you in place, “I just need a little longer, can you do that for me sweets?”
“Yes,” you sob, letting him slam into you again.
Tony pushes your hair out of your face, chasing his own release, “Fuck. Such a good girl for me.”
You nod, using your hips to match his movements weakly, and he sits up to place a sloppy kiss to your lips.
“Fuck,” he groans into your ear - what has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your life, “you take cock like it’s your day job, babe. Think you might be in the wrong career.”
The familiar knot is building in your core again, and you let your hand guide his back to your clit, wanting more. He curses at the action, and starts palming you desperately, feeling himself getting closer.
“Oh god,” the words fall from your lips in a voice that is as wrecked as you feel. 
The next moments are fuzzy, and you clench down, back arching as you feel Tony spend himself in you. It’s a sort of warm feeling, and you fall onto his sweaty chest when he releases his grip on you. 
The room is silent apart from the sounds of heavy breathing slowing to normal. Tony lets an arm drape over your body, an action that should be comforting, but then you feel it.
Warm metal on your skin. A ring, his ring, his engagement ring. The guilt comes then, and he feels you freeze, tears falling onto his chest.
What have you done?
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albino-whumpee · 4 years ago
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Blank Space
An idea came to mind so here. Just gonna say I made a playlist for Albus and Sann on spotify. Here. You can go listen to it here.
Taglist! Hope you liked it! Thank you for reading and sticking by for so long! :D
@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @crowned-avery @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70​ @twistedcaretaker
CW// child abuse and domestic violence, children going missing, child neglect, starvation, and useless child services.
“…ller…Mu…”
Someone was calling for him. But there was a ringing on his ears and his head hurt. The cap on his head with the chipped borders, protected him from the annoying white light of the school´s infirmary. He had been sent there during E.P. After he had refused to continue doing sit-ups because of the pain. In the distance, he heard a sigh.
“Serra”
“Don´t call me that” the boy´s lips moved instantly.
The guy with the white lab coat let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Muller. But I can´t do anything if you don´t show me what´s wrong” the boy exhaled, trying to dissimulate how much it pained him to do even that.
“Can´t you feel it above the clothes or something?” the boy tried to negotiate. The shame swallowing whole. The man gave him an exasperated frown as reply. Muller sighed, wetting his lips before putting his hands on the dirty gym shirt. The last tower standing between him and the reality the doctor shouldn´t see. Shouldn´t know. “Please?”
“Muller…” that tone was the signal to drop it. So he braced and lifted it up to the man, straying his eyes to a corner. The man´s eyes turned into brown plates, mouth hanging disgusted at the way his bones looked like they were trying to pop out the thin layer of bruised skin. 
“Oh my god…” he exhaled just before he saw the shirt fall. The man opened his mouth a few times. Like a fish trying to breath out of the water. Gasping for just a bit of precious oxygen. But he was just a man who rubbed the side of his head and leaned on to him with those eyes full of pity he didn´t want. “I know you´re no fighter, Muller. You´re the quiet kid with regular notes. Can you tell me where did you really get those?”
He stayed quiet. Locking his jaw as he breathed in.
If he said the truth it would be worse. It would hurt and not only for him. It would be bad and even worse for Annie. Who was in class. Surely talking with her friends and bragging about the cake he had bought for her birthday. Smiling despite the bandages on her wrist.
He had tried before. To tell someone with authority about his father. He had been hopeful. They had patched him up and let him bath and eat a normal meal. But what happened then was that he was sat in a cold room with a chair in the middle. Talked with a woman that simply took notes, before giving him back to the man they had told him he wouldn´t see again. Just to go straight back home and resume what had made him call child services in the first place.
“I got into a fight” He said.
“Tell me the truth”
“I got into a fight”
“We both know-”
“It won´t change anything if I say the truth or not” Muller said with red eyes lit up in rage.
“Serra…”
“Don´t call me that. I got into a fight and lost. That´s the truth” The ringing on his ears went up. “Just…Just do your damn job and give me something for the pain, doc” the boy said scrunching his eyes, passing a hand over them roughly, in hopes it would end the headache. His dad had grabbed the broom on his hands while he cleaned the living room´s floor of the carpet of beer cans. Said the sound woke him up. So he shoved him to the floor and let it rain down until it broke. Then he had lost interest and gone back to sleep. That´s when he could scramble outside. Forgetting his backpack on the way.
The doctor let out a long, long breath that just made Muller grit his teeth. He finally rolled down to a cabinet. Unlocked it and let his fingers navigate the few pill cases there were. Nothing strong. Nothing that would stop the fear and the pain forever. Just a pill of ibuprofen.
Muller wasn´t amused in the slightest, but it would help. That and a bit of ice on his eye. The doctor put a bag of it on his lap. Taking off the cap, he let his head hang. Letting the cool sensation of the ice wash the pain away.
“Lay down and don´t take the pill just yet, ok? Do you like sandwiches, Muller?” He asked digging on his backpack next to the desk. Taking out his wallet.The boy snapped his healthy eye open going red of embarrassment. Of course, you need to eat something before taking pills and that had happened yesterday afternoon. Around seventeen hours ago.
It vaguely reminded him of Don, the doctor’s clinic where appointments were profusely refused to be paid and the man even gave them his own children’s old clothes. The boy had tried to keep the smell when he did laundry, but it inevitably started to smell like his father at some point.
“Y-yes, Thank you…” he muttered before the man turned to the door. Or tried to, before the albino grabbed his wrist. “Doc, please, don´t tell anybody about this” the man gave him a pained look as the ice bag slipped off his face. “I…Albinos bruise easily…it was just a fight I lost. Please…” Muller hoped it was enough. He was aware he was known among his classmates as a troublemaker. Coming with bruises and scratches almost every day kept people at an arm length. He would use that. He could use it and keep people away from the truth. That he didn´t search for trouble because going back home was enough.
Just so she wouldn´t need to do the same.
The man slowly put away the boy´s hand. “It´s absolutely impossible to call someone, Muller? Child services?” he knelt next to him. Taking the ice pack that had slid to his lap and putting it against his swollen eye. “You don´t have anyone you could stay with? Just for a while?”
The boy´s face went dark. Even as it formed an ironic smile.
“Why would I be here if I had a place like that, Doc?”
—-
When he went back to class, patched up and cradling his ribs, changed into his normal wear from the secret backpack on his locker, to enter art class. He saw a few people muttering something when he came inside the classroom before pulling his cap down. Looking at his red sneakers as he navigated to his seat at the front. Then tried to blink into focus the words on the board.
“Free assignment. High contrast. Acrylics. Due next Wednesday. Be sure to return the materials clean and dry. Be creative!”
Muller sighed slowly. They weren’t sure if they really had a teacher or if they were being given classes by a ghost, as they would have the instructions written on the board and had to leave them on the desk that day or the date written. Receiving their scores through email he had to check on the library.
It was odd, but it was also easier to not be disrupted on the only place he could take his cheap mp3, put the earphones to silence the room and just paint. His moment of full relaxation of the week.
After putting the earphones, he had no idea what to paint, however. He stared at it with a pencil on his hand for a long time, drumming it into his jeans, until an idea came to his head, making him smile. He rolled up the sleeves of his oversized sweater and dipped into sketching light lines over the smooth surface. Halfway through an upbeat song, he felt eyes on him. Brown eyes staring into the purple of his forearm. Not shiny from the cream the doctor had rubbed on it to numb out the pain anymore.
Muller rolled back down the sleeve, pulling his eyes away, before he stood up to grab the paint tubes in the other side of the room. A few girls scooting away as they spotted him. Always looking down, averting his sight from other’s curious eyes.
Two hours of work later, the black paint had reigned over the canvas. He had had to squint harder to get the tiniest little details of it right. Using negative space to frame the silhouette of fruit plate, a candlestick with hanging jewels and a chalice. Leaving them completely white.
A blank space in the immense blackness.
Happy with the result and having played the list four times, he accidentally put the brush with black paint over his cheek. Rubbing it away just smudging it. Letting out a groan, he noticed nobody was there anymore. Had left their half assed paintings on the desk or simply left.
He began to pick up the dirty brushes left from his classmates and went to the sink to clean them thoroughly like always. He didn’t need thanks, but it would be easier if they didn’t try to put out the desperation of the exam periods on the poor brush by smashing them open. There always was one that couldn’t be saved. He was about to throw it out, right when he saw the bruise on his forearms. Going darker in long stripes.
He pressed his lips together as he dipped the brush into the white paint and stroked his arm with it. The cool sensation of the sticky material covering his bruised skin, almost melting into his natural color made him do the same to his other arm.
When he finished it was almost as if he hadn’t fled his house after being hit with a broom that morning. It had been so easy to cover them as it was easy to wipe it off in a rush for the next class. Half finishing up and putting the painting on the desk. Trying to run as fast as he could, when he heard someone coming closer.
The woman saw him scramble outside the classroom as she went in through the other door. She just came in to take the paintings to her car to evaluate, but that time she found herself absorbed on the painting. Taking it into her hands, shocked. Noticing to a smile the same little “A. M.” Painted on the far corner, always there on her favorites of the class. She turned to the door, light brown wavy hair jumping swiftly at the motion.
She put the painting on top of the others as she marched back to the parking spot her old Tsuru was on. She would make sure to arrive early next time and offer him that little place on the students exhibition.
She did wake up early, to most of her disgrace and her co worker’s surprise. She did arrive to class with the announcement of the school’s artistic exhibition, spooking her students and earning groans, but she didn’t see a kid with a white ponytail in oversized clothes. Not the next week, or the one after that.
His painting hanged on large boards among other student’s works, regardless. But he never came back to see it
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bananapie99 · 4 years ago
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Letters Home
Part II of my new Home series
Part I here
Inspired by Welcome Home from Bandstand the musical
“Letters every day, sent to reassure, knowing all the dangers with the duties of the tour”
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Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers (brother) x Reader
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One year. Bucky had been gone for one year overseas. In your heart, it felt like much longer than a year. You were desperate for his touch, for his voice, but you would settle of his words, for his beautiful handwriting. He kept his promise, writing you a letter every day. The first month after he shipped out was the hardest. The letters were scattered, taking anywhere from one week to four to make it across the ocean and into your arms. He was always sure to date the letters, helping you keep them organized. His letters took over your nightstand months ago, neatly filed in a box you found. The letters were kept close by and every night you would reread a handful of them until you drifted to sleep, where you often found Bucky again. You always knew your James was a romantic, but you did not realize how poetic he was until these letters.
Cookie,
Oh how I miss you. How I wish I could run my fingers through your hair, whisper I love you in your ear. I keep your picture over my heart. I believe it protects me on these battlefields. Every morning you are the first face I see and at night you are the last. Today I saw a flower, all alone in the middle of nothing. What kind, I do not know, but it made me think of you. It was the most beautiful flower I have ever seen, and it was surviving in the middle of a war. The world around it was turbulent and broken, yet there it was, tall and proud. Just like you through all of this. I miss you babydoll, and pray every night that the next day I will hold you in my arms at last. I love you babydoll.
Forever and always,
James
His letters never spoke about the war, at least not what he was experiencing. He tried to keep them as light as possible, focusing instead on your love. He tried to find the good, and you love that about him, but it was war. You did not expect every letter to be pretty, and it worried you. Hopefully he was talking to his fellow soldiers there...or Steve. Steve got letters sometimes too, though much less frequently than you.
Your favorite letter came after a year and a half of Bucky being gone. Well, your favorite letter up to that point.
Cookie,
I cannot wait until I can call you my wife. If you want complete honesty, I already call you my wife over here. Anyone asks if I got a girl back home I tell them I got the most gorgeous wife back home, beautiful inside and out, and wicked smart. I tell them that you volunteer your time in the hospitals, that you want to be a nurse. I hope you don’t mind I call you my wife. As far as I’m concerned Cookie, you and I are married. I love you with all of me and I believe you love me with all of you. A piece of paper don’t change much, but I still want it for us. I want the declaration. I want it written down in the book of life that you are my wife. I want God to know and I want the butcher to know. Plan the wedding however you want, the day should be everything you have dreamed of and more. I don’t care what it looks like as long as you are happy and there. I’m sure you have yourself buried to your eyes in plans. I don’t know when this war will end, but as soon as I’m home I want to get married then and there. I love you babydoll.
Forever and always,
James
Oh how you wish you could marry that man right now. Knowing he told everyone you were his wife made your heart skip. He never failed to make you feel completely loved, even from about 4,000 miles away.
About a week after you received that letter, which became a nightly read, the letters stopped coming. You heard nothing from Bucky for a week. Two weeks. Three weeks. A month. You tried to stay positive, but after four long weeks that was nearly impossible. This was war. War did not care that you loved this man and prayed every night that he would come safely home to you. War is cruel and cold, loving no one. You would visit Bucky’s family every day on your way home from the hospital. Every time you would knock, and his mother or sister would answer the door. You would open your mouth and start to ask any word from Bucky? And at this point, you barely got the first word out before they would somberly shake their head and let you in. In a way, no news was good news. There was no telegram, no one on their doorstep to give their condolences. 
To distract yourself, you and Bucky’s sister Rebecca kept re-planning every detail of the wedding. There were only so many times you could change the flavor of the cake or the flowers. Bucky’s mother had sewn Rebecca’s maid of honor dress and was tailoring your mother’s wedding dress to fit you. 
When you went searching through what you and Steve had kept of your parents’ you found the dress, but the veil was missing. On top of not hearing anything from Bucky, this was too much and you broke yet again. Steve found you asleep on the floor, dress in hand, cheeks stained from tears, when he came home from work. The next day you told his mother and Rebecca. Both were quick to console you, and found her own veil for you to use during the ceremony. Bucky’s family really had become your family during this year and a half of him overseas. 
After five weeks of not hearing from Bucky, you saw a letter in your mailbox. The envelope was stamped from Germany, your name and address scrolled in his handwriting. That handwriting had never looked more beautiful. It took everything in you to not rip the envelope open. Instead you forced yourself to unlock the door to your apartment and go inside, lock the door behind you, and sit at your desk where you could open the envelope with your letter opener. You needed to protect this little letter, this lifeline to Bucky.
You took a deep breath as you sliced open the top edge of the envelope. Crimson appeared on the corner of the letter as you pulled it out. Your blood. How ironic to injure yourself on the very paper keeping you alive.
Cookie,
I am sorry it has been a while since my last letter to you. I got myself mixed up in a bit of a situation about a month ago.
Your heart stopped, your breath caught in your lungs.
I am alright now babydoll. Now that I think about it, I probably should have opened with that. I am alright. I promise. We were training and I got caught in some friendly fire. They got my arm, of course the one I use to write. They removed the bullet but my arm was useless there for a while. I was pretty out of it on the pain medications as well, otherwise I would have had someone else write the letter for me. Could you tell Mother and Rebecca I am okay? I sent them a letter as well, but just in case theirs is delayed or lost. I told them the same thing in theirs just in case yours was the one missing. I still have a couple minor issues with my arm at times, doc says it is probably nerve damage. But that is a worry for another time. I know my silence must have scared you. I am so sorry. I hope this ends soon and I can come home to you. I love you babydoll.
Forever and always,
James
He is alive. Bucky is alive. You did not bother taking the time to put the letter back in the envelope. You left it on the dining table in case Steve got home while you were still gone. You practically ran to Bucky’s house, banging on the door, manners be damned.
Rebecca answered the door, panic in her eyes.
“(Y/n), are you okay?”
“He’s alive!” Your voice was broken as you gasped for air, trying to catch your breath. “I got a letter today. Bucky is okay.”
Relief flooded her face, along with her mother and father’s who had come to see the reason for the panic. 
“Bucky is alive.”
His mother broke down in tears, burying her face into her husband’s chest. Rebecca wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug as she started to cry. Finally, you let your own tears make an appearance. Your James is okay.
Once his family had absorbed the news and everyone seemed to be alright, you walked back to your apartment. Steve should be getting home soon. In celebration of Bucky being okay, you decided to make a cake for after dinner.
You heard the door squeak open before closing and the lock clicked into place.
“Steve!” You practically yelled, resulting in him sprinting to the kitchen.
“Are you alright (y/n)?”
“He’s okay. Bucky is okay. I got a letter today.”
You felt yourself starting to cry again. You washed your hands before picking up the letter, not wanting anything to ruin these beautiful words. Steve took the letter from your hands, needing to read them himself. Soon you saw Steve’s body relax. He unclenched his teeth, shoulders loosening. Still clutching the letter, he pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other cradling the back of your head.
“Thank God.”
Thank God indeed. You have been mumbling your thanks since you opened that letter.
That night before bed you read the letter over and over, at least fifty times.
I am alright. I promise.
Your eyes got heavy and the letter fell from your hand onto your heart. James, please come home soon.
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