#doctors may as well just tell you to kill yourself and give you a loaded gun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rax-writes · 3 years

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More 》 Part Two

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings: Sexual intercourse, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving) [reader is a female-identifying individual with a vagina] Notes: Part two of More 》 I cannot thank you guys enough for how well More did, and I hope that you enjoy this addition to it! 》 I honestly didn’t edit this all that extensively, so if there are any errors, please let me know. ♥

At the break of dawn the next morning, you found yourself on a loading dock for shipment containers with Sharon, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo – pretending all the while that nothing had happened between you and the latter individual. You wore a sweater with a high neckline, per Zemo’s suggestion, and interacted with him exactly the same way that you had before. He did a good job at selling the lie as well, although he seemed incapable of keeping his eyes to himself, frequently staring at you for far longer than he should have, that dark, hungry look in his eyes returning if his gaze lingered for too long.

“All right, he’s in there,” Sharon announced, stopping in the middle of the massive metal boxes. “Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel, but hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

You accepted one of the earpieces she offered, getting it into place as she walked off. When the four of you entered the container, you found that it was empty, and appeared to have been that way for quite some time.

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one?” Sam inquired incredulously. “It’s completely empty.”

“Positive. It has to be.”

You entered the container, the other three right behind you, and closed your eyes as they looked around.

“He’s here. I can hear his thoughts,” you announced, then began to pick the doctor’s brain further. “Push against the back wall. There’s a secret passageway.”

Zemo did as you bade him, and sure enough, the wall moved backwards a bit, to allow him to open the hidden door. He shot you a curt nod of approval, then stepped back to allow Sam to enter first, and the rest of you followed suit.

Music filled the air, a swanky song you didn’t recognize, as you stalked through the laboratory, your gun aimed dead ahead and eyes peeled.

“Follow me,” you whispered, taking the lead as you easily navigated to the physical source of Dr. Nagel’s thoughts. When you saw him, his back was to you, slouched over whatever he was working on as he hummed along to the tune. Sam silently walked over and removed the needle from the record that played the music, and Nagel turned around slowly, fear written all over his face.

“Dr. Nagel?”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“We know you created the super soldier serum.”

“Get out of my lab,” Nagel commanded, as if he was in any position to give orders. He began to walk toward the exit, but you stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand flat against his bony chest.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that. Not until you tell us what we need to know,” you informed him without speaking, your voice infiltrating his mind. Nagel let out a frightened gasp as he looked behind him, apparently thinking that may be the source of the voice, before his eyes landed on you.

“You,” he whispered, his voice a mix of confusion, fear, and awe as you met his gaze with harsh eyes. “You – you spoke to me, in my head. How did you do that?”

“She can read your mind, and she can also control it. So, I’d advise you to answer our questions, before she forces you to,” Sam threatened, then watched as Nagel took note of Bucky across the room. “And you know who he is, right?” He then grabbed Nagel by the arm and turned him to face Zemo. “This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right?” He dragged Nagel to the nearest wall, shoving him against it as his back collided with the metal grate. “You seem like a pretty smart guy, so you better become conversational real quick.”

“How ‘bout a counter proposal? Make me a better offer, and I’ll talk,” Nagel proposed.

“Guys, we have company,” Sharon’s voice stated through the earpiece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go!”

Bucky grabbed Nagel by his shirt and dragged him over to a chair, forcing him down roughly before pointing his gun at Nagel’s head, finger on the trigger. He still didn’t look terribly interested in talking, so you lowered your weapon and narrowed your eyes at him, and used your abilities to insight sheer, unadulterated fear in his mind. His eyes widened and he visibly paled as his mind wreaked havoc on itself, instilling a very pure, very powerful terror within him.

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just stop it!”

You ended the onslaught of panic, and raised your gun once again, as your three companions eyed you with curiosity, unsure of what exactly you’d just done to him. But there would be time for an explanation later.

Nagel explained how he formulated the super soldier serum, and you all listened intently to his little tale. That was when you heard it. Like the crack of a twig in an otherwise silent forest, yet making no audible sound at all, you heard it.

“I must kill him.”

You looked over at Zemo as nonchalantly as possible, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized you’d picked up on his decision. The two of you shared tense eye contact for several beats, and you knew that you must make a choice. Allow Zemo to end this man’s life, and end the possibility of additional serums being created, or warn Sam and Bucky of his intentions?

“You know the damage unchecked Super Soldiers can cause. He is dangerous; he must be stopped.”

Zemo spoke directly to you in his mind, and you took the opportunity to dig deeper, searching for any sign that he was going to betray you, Sam, and Bucky. When you found none, you sighed quietly as you made your choice, and returned your attention to Nagel. Out of your peripheral, you saw Zemo begin perusing the room, feeling underneath tables in the lab in search of a secluded weapon.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky inquired, and when Nagel hesitated, he pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s temple, prompting an answer of no. “Now what?”

Sharon ran into the room then, announcing, “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.”

Zemo took her distraction as an opportunity to draw his gun and shoot Nagel in the chest, straight through his heart. Sam tackled Zemo, and Sharon took the gun from his hand, whispering, “What did you do?”

The very next moment, the entire place exploded, erupting into flames as you, Bucky, Sam, and Sharon hit the deck, although Zemo was nowhere to be found when you groaned in pain and looked around the room from your position on the floor. Bucky pulled you to your feet, then Sharon, then Sam, as the four of you exited the container before it could explode from all the chemicals and fire in Nagel’s lab. You didn’t quite make it, as a gas-fueled explosion went off just as you exited the container, but you were far enough away from it that it merely blew your hair forward. Once outside, the adrenaline wore off just enough that you felt a blinding pain in your torso, and looked down to see blood quickly soaking through your sweater.

“Bucky,” you called out, and he turned quickly, a frown forming on his face when he saw your injury. You lifted your shirt to reveal a thin, jagged, three-inch long sliver of metal embedded in the center of your abdomen. Sam turned to bark orders at the two of you, but his face fell as he saw the blood.

Sharon made quick work of removing the metal, which was thankfully only about an inch or less in width, so it wasn’t at all deadly. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad of an injury, but god was it bleeding like hell. Bucky yanked off his jacket and handed it to you, instructing you to apply pressure to the wound and stick close to him. Your three companions shot at the bounty hunters that were approaching, and you did your best to fire a few shots yourself, your other hand pressing the jacket firmly against your injury. Sam shot you a disapproving look and told you to focus on yourself, but you ignored him.

While Sam and Bucky began bickering about who should have followed whose orders, there was yet another deafening explosion nearby. You looked in that direction to see Zemo with some sort of mask on, jumping down from atop some storage containers, before leaping over some metal piping and dodging past a man to evade his bullets, then grabbing him by the collar to use him as a human shield. He fired multiple rounds at the nearby bounty hunters, before releasing his grip on the first man and kicking him away, then shot him too. He looked at you through the flames, and you didn’t have to read his mind to know how exhilarated he felt, being truly back in action after spending years in a cell.

If asked, you’d chalk it up to the blood loss, but… goddamn, he looked hot kicking ass like that.

“Go,” Bucky ordered, helping you up and wrapping an arm around your waist to steady and guide you as the four of you made a break for it. Eventually, you reached an open storage container, and Sam helped you into it as Bucky fended off the last few bounty hunters.

When Bucky burst through the back of the container with his vibranium arm, you heard tires screech and an engine rev, before Zemo pulled up in a sports car.

“Supercharged,” he stated with the faintest smile. Christ, he was just a little bit of a goofball, wasn’t he?

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said angrily, then turned to you. “And you were supposed to tell us if he was going to screw us over.”

“Nagel shouldn’t have been kept alive. I know you don’t like it, but it is the truth,” you reasoned.

“He didn’t have to die though, dammit! He could have just gone to jail, locked up for the rest of his life!”

“Oh, yes, just like Zemo? The man standing five feet from us, very much not in jail?” you countered, and he frowned, knowing you had a point. “Once word got out that Nagel knew how to recreate the serum, every power hungry individual and group in the world would be trying to find a way to either break him out or ask him about it. And I’m sure he would have told anyone for the right price. Even if the serum didn’t fall into the hands of the wrong people, even if a seemingly good-natured country like America were to get ahold of it, it could still be used for evil. They clearly don’t have the best moral compass, considering the asshole they gave Captain America’s shield to.”

“Alright, yeah, you’ve made your point,” Sam grumbled. “But I still think we should take Zemo back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo interjected.

“He’s right, we need him. And there’s three of us, and at least 20 of them. Come on,” Bucky said, pulling open the door of the car before turning around to help you into the vehicle. Only then did Zemo notice the blood on your hands and sweater, and Bucky’s blazer pressed against your torso.

“What happened to her?” Zemo inquired, sitting up to help you sit behind him, and frowning when you grimaced as you maneuvered into your seat, careful not to get any blood on the lovely cream interior. The car didn’t belong to any of you, but it was so beautiful that you hated to harm it.

“Stray shard of metal during the explosion in Nagel’s container,” you explained, grimacing a little as you leaned your head against the headrest behind you, eyes closed as you willed the pain to subside.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be. Probably just needs a few stitches, then I’ll be good as new,” you assured him, shooting him a tight-lipped smile, which he didn’t seem to buy before he removed his trenchcoat and laid it on top of you.

“You look cold,” he muttered, then turned back around in his seat to face the steering wheel.

“Fine, but if you try that shit again…” Sam told Zemo as he climbed into the car.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo responded, and you didn’t have to check his thoughts to know that that was a complete lie.

Sharon bid you all goodbye, and Sam thanked her for her help before sliding down into his seat.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked Bucky.

“No,” he deadpanned, causing you to chuckle under your breath, which earned you a glare from Sam.

The drive back to the airport was mostly silent, which you were thankful for, as you didn’t really have the energy for talking. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you’d still lost enough and exerted yourself enough that you were feeling fatigued. Zemo parked the car on the landing strip, a short distance from his jet, and was quick to exit the vehicle to help you out. You thought you were doing quite well, until you actually stood up outside the car, and the exhaustion combined with some wooziness from the blood loss made your knees buckle. You would have fallen if Zemo hadn’t lunged forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“Let us get you aboard the plane, and I will dress your wound,” he said, then stooped to scoop you up into his arms bridal-style, and began carrying you toward the jet. Sam and Bucky eyed him curiously, but said nothing. Admittedly, you were too flustered by the close proximity and his gentleness toward you to say anything yourself. You looked over his shoulder, admiring his stolen vehicle one last time.

In Sokovian, you stated with a smile, “I’d like one of those by the way, the Pontiac.”

“Whatever your heart desires,” he responded calmly, matching your Sokovian. As he approached Oeznik, who stood beside the steps of the jet, he continued in that language as he instructed the butler, “Have that car, or one exactly like it, delivered to Berlin as soon as possible, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Zemo laid you down gently on the couch inside the plane, Sam and Bucky following close behind. Once inside, Oeznik brought Zemo the first aid kit, a needle, and some stitching. Both of the other men offered to do it themselves, but Zemo insisted that he could do a better job than both of them combined. In a manner much unlike the night before, Zemo lifted your shirt to have access to the wound, and set to work. Bucky let you hold his hand as Zemo cleaned the area and did the stitches, while you forced yourself to breathe evenly and ignore the pain of the antiseptic and the needle. A mere fifteen minutes later, you were all patched up, and Zemo was helping you up and sending you to the washroom with a change of clothes.

“You’re gettin’ real sweet on her, Zemo,” you heard Sam note, his tone suspicious. “You better watch yourself, man. Step out of line with her and we won’t hesitate to end you.”

“Understood,” Zemo replied nonchalantly, then you could hear him open a book and take a sip of his champagne. For your own amusement, you took a peek into his mind, and found that he was thinking, “Too late.”

You smiled to yourself as you undressed, carefully removing the blood-soaked sweater and placing it in a trash bag. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you first noticed the hickeys from last night, then the miscellaneous cuts scattered across your skin from the various explosions, and the gauze taped over your wound. The hickeys caused your smile to widen further, and you donned the plain black t-shirt of Zemo’s and his loose gray sweatpants before rejoining them in the lounge. His eyes darkened in that way as his gaze raked up and down your body, clearly enjoying the sight of you in his clothing, but he quickly returned his attention to Sam.

“She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go,” Zemo suggested, then leaned back in his seat. “I, for one, am looking forward to coming face-to-face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.”

A few hours later, Bucky and Sam had fallen asleep after reclining their chairs and dimming the lights, as you laid on the couch, halfway asleep yourself despite the book in your hands. Once their near-identical snores had filled the cabin for several minutes, Zemo stood from his seat and came to crouch down beside your head. His expression was unreadable as he stared at you, before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I must admit, I was very concerned when I saw all the blood on your shirt. I have only just found you, my Sokovian beauty. I would prefer to draw out having the privilege of being acquainted with you for as long as possible, but I cannot do that if you get killed.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid it,” you teased, and he smiled softly. “Thank you for taking such good care of my injury earlier.” He said nothing in response, simply smiled a bit wider and kissed you again, longer this time, but still far shorter and far less intimately than you’d have preferred. You both had to take the others into consideration, even despite their snores, because you were quite certain they’d put a bullet between Zemo’s eyes and send you home immediately if they learned just how “sweet on you” the man truly was. He stood and fetched a blanket from an overhead cabinet before laying it over you, then pressed his lips to your forehead, and returned to his seat.

“Goodnight, Liebling,” Zemo said softly, flicking off the last light in the cabin as he settled back into his seat.

“Goodnight, Baron.”

—————

Riga was somehow comparably chaotic to Madripoor, in terms of the events that transpired there.

Shortly after you arrived at Zemo’s estate, Bucky returned from his "walk" to declare that the Wakandans were there to take Zemo, although he bought some time. In all honesty, you were only half-ass listening to him, because Zemo had exited the bathroom with wet hair and a purple robe that revealed half his chest. He caught you staring and shot you a subtle wink while Sam and Bucky were talking, and you rolled your eyes in return.

Next stop was a refugee camp, where you, Bucky, and Sam searched in vain to get any information on Danya Madani. Zemo somehow managed to accomplish the task, albeit in the creepiest way possible, which you teased him relentlessly for on the walk back to his flat. When he revealed that the girl he'd spoken to told him the time and location of the funeral, but refused to tell any of you, Bucky was quick to anger, snatching the teacup from Zemo’s hand and throwing it against the wall. Sam talked him down before you grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him gently toward the door.

"Come on, let's take a walk. I saw a little farmer's market down the road; let's go have a snack and explore a little, yeah?" you asked, your tone calm and soothing to contrast the rage that swarmed in his mind, and Bucky nodded gravely to you as he let you lead him. When you glanced back into the flat as you closed the door behind you, you saw that Zemo was wearing a frown, and a quick peek at his thoughts informed you that he was pouting a bit, wishing you'd have just sent Bucky off and stayed with him. You rolled your eyes internally, then accompanied Bucky to the market, where the two of you ate some plums and took a little walk. When the two of you returned to the flat, Zemo announced that it was time to head to the funeral.

"Did you enjoy your little excursion with James?" Zemo inquired in Sokovian, a tinge of spite in his voice. "Did you relieve his tension?"

"It wouldn't be any of your business if I did," you shot back, also in Sokovian. The disdain on his face disappeared quickly, and you added, "But no, we just took a walk and had some food, as I said we would. Jealousy does not suit you, Baron."

Zemo's voice took on a gentler tone, the Sokovian dripping from his tongue like honey as he said, "My apologies, darling. You are just so magnificent that I want you all to myself; the thought of you with another man is enviable."

"Don’t apologize. Just end it."

He nodded, and before either of you could say anything else, that asshole John Walker showed up, along with his partner. They demanded that Sam and Bucky no longer keep them in the dark, but ultimately, Walker conceded to follow Zemo, and allow Sam the opportunity to talk to Karli alone. As Sam walked off, Walker grabbed Zemo forcefully and handcuffed him to some kind of metal contraption on the wall.

"Aggressive. But I get it," Zemo quipped. He turned to you, and in Sokovian, said, "Once I get out of these, perhaps we could use them to our advantage later this evening."

"Zip it, Zemo."

Unsurprisingly, Walker betrayed his agreement with Sam, barging in on the memorial before Sam's allotted time was up.

"Uh-uh. No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea."

"It hasn't been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight," Bucky responded calmly.

"Don’t do that. Don't patronize me."

"Then do not behave so childishly," you retorted, and Bucky elbowed you while Walker shot you an icy glare. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bucky cut him off, aiming to divert the subject before Walker pushed you any further.

"He knows what he's doing."

Walker was silent for a moment more, before he grabbed the shield – which shouldn't be in his possession in the first place – and marched toward the door. "I'm goin' in."

Bucky stopped him, but after Walker guilt-tripped him, Bucky stepped to the side to allow him to pass. You groaned in exasperation the second Walker walked off.

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"It was either that, or you and me fight Walker and Battlescar – or whatever his stupid code name is. I'm already on probation, and I helped the guy that split up the Avengers break out of prison. I really don't need ‘beat the shit out of the new Cap’ added to my list of wrongdoings," Bucky said, running a hand through his hair before clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Come on, let's go find Sam."

As Bucky jogged off in the direction Walker had gone, you followed while grumbling, "My preference would have been the latter, but no, why would anyone ask for my opinion? I'm just the pet mind reader."

When the two of you caught up to Walker and Hoskins, the former was thrown into a table by Karli, and she ran off. Bucky chased after her, and you took another route to try to intercept her, to no avail. You caught up with Sam and Bucky a few minutes later, out of breath as Sam commented that the building was like a maze, and you wholeheartedly agreed. By the time the three of you found the others, Karli was gone, Walker was just standing there, and Zemo was out cold on the floor.

Walker and Hoskins stated that they were going to search for Karli, and ran off. Bucky threw Zemo over his shoulder like a damn ragdoll, and the three of you trudged back to Zemo’s flat, a little worn out and a little defeated. Once there, Bucky threw him down on the couch, and Zemo bounced limply atop the cushions, still unconscious. Sam began working on his laptop, and Bucky went on yet another walk, while you searched for the first aid kit.

Zemo looked surprisingly peaceful and non-threatening as he laid there, appearing to be asleep. You kneeled beside his head and lightly applied some antiseptic on the cut left by Cap's shield, right at the top of his hairline, and you found yourself admiring him. He had soft features for a man so dark inside; soft chestnut brown hair, adorable nose, slight bit of stubble across his gentle jawline and neck. You began dabbing the antiseptic again, still lost in your own thoughts when he awoke very suddenly, grabbing your wrist in a fierce grip out of reflex. Zemo's eyes were wide when he first opened them, but upon seeing you, he visibly relaxed and released his grip on you.

"Apologies," he whispered, then groaned softly when he felt the pain in his head. You stood silently and retrieved a rag from the drawer beside the sink, wetting it with cold water, then filled a glass with some ice and brandy and returned, handing both items to Zemo. He thanked you very sincerely, then laid the rag over his forehead and eyes, and held the glass atop his chest.

You were grateful that Sam hadn't noticed you doting on him, too focused on his laptop, because he'd have definitely asked you about it, and you didn't even have an answer for yourself. It wasn't like there was any need or obligation for you to tend to him like that, and yet you did without even thinking. As you took a seat opposite Zemo on the couch, you told yourself that it was merely payback for how he assisted you with your own injury the day before, and left it at that.

It wasn't long before Walker and his partner showed up again, demanding to place Zemo under arrest. You, Sam, and Zemo all stood when he burst through the doors, all silently conglomerating to one side of the room. Walker had the gall to threaten Sam, and it had your fingers twitching on the gun in your thigh holster in rage. Before anything could come of that, the Wakandans Bucky had mentioned showed up, and when Walker tried talking down to them before placing a hand on one's shoulder, melee ensued.

You leaned on the bar with one arm, watching in amusement as Walker got his ass handed to him. Zemo seemed to be in the same boat, observing without expression as he passed you his drink, and you took a couple of sips before returning it.

"We should do something," Sam said to you and Bucky.

"Looking strong, John!"

"Yes, excellent form! Top notch," you added. "Really showing them the prowess of the new Captain America!"

"Bucky…" Sam chided, prompting Bucky to finally intervene. Sam looked to you, and you held your hands up in defense.

"I am not fighting the goddamn Dora Milaje. I don't feel like dying today – especially not for the sake of helping John Walker."

Sam sighed before joining the fight himself, and that was when Zemo’s hand enveloped yours, silently tugging you towards the bathroom. You opened your mouth to say "Is this really the time for a quickie?" but he held a finger to his lips, effectively silencing you. Once he had successfully guided you into the bathroom, he closed the door quietly behind him, and shoved the tub to the side, revealing a secret passageway.

"Come with me," Zemo said simply, and you scoffed.

"I'm not abandoning Sam and Bucky. My place is here."

"Actually, if I remember correctly, your assignment is to keep an eye on me. Although I'd rather not have to, I will overpower you if I must, because I will be leaving now. So, it is technically your job to follow me, and it would behoove you to simply follow your comrades’ orders without an unnecessary scuffle."

The man really didn't miss a beat, did he? Sam and Bucky had, in fact, assigned you to watch Zemo. Although it was implied that that was everyone's task, they had specifically delegated the role to you. So, it was a matter of whether or not you could take Zemo in a fight, and although you secretly hoped he'd go easy on you, you knew that his own self-preservation was his chief concern.

"Fine," you grumbled, not missing the smile on his face as you shoved past him and jumped down into the tunnel.

Your joints ached in protest of your actions, but you ignored it. He was right behind you, not even bothering to cover the passageway back up before taking off in one of the three directions that the tunnel led to. You were right behind him, and it wasn't long before the sounds of the scuffle faded away. Roughly five minutes later, you reached the end, and he pushed aside the manhole above you and climbed out. Zemo took your hands and helped you out as well, before replacing the manhole while you surveyed the area. It was a city street, but they all looked the same in Riga, so you had no idea where you were.

"Come on," Zemo said, lacing his fingers with yours as you ran down the street. He took a few turns and ended up in the town square, where he led you into a hotel. As you entered the lobby, he explained, "We'll stay here for a few hours, essentially hiding in plain sight, to allow the Dora Milaje and Walker time to leave and search for me elsewhere."

You nodded, and as you approached the front desk, Zemo wrapped his arm snugly around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Do you have any availability for the night?" Zemo inquired, then smiled lovingly at you. "It is our wedding day, and my beautiful bride simply cannot wait until we reach our honeymoon destination to get her hands on me."

You sent Zemo a quick glare, but the man at the desk didn't notice. He chuckled and nodded, saying something about "What a happy couple" as he booked the room for you. Zemo ignored your pointed look and kissed your temple, thanking the man and paying for the room before leading you in the direction of the room. As soon as you were out of earshot of the desk clerk, you glowered at Zemo once again, although his arm remained around your waist until you reached the room. Not that you minded, really.

"'Beautiful bride'? 'Honeymoon'? Really?"

"Yes," Zemo replied calmly, unlocking the door and opening it for you. As you walked past him, he elaborated, "If Walker comes looking for me, he'll be asking for a former SHIELD agent and a criminal. If the gentleman at the desk is convinced we're a happy newlywed couple, he won't even think to mention us to Walker."

It didn't take more than half a second to find his genuine answer in his mind. "How smoothly and effortlessly you lie, Zemo. You simply wanted to touch me again, so you came up with a convenient excuse."

Zemo licked his lips subtly, before shrugging with a small smile, wordlessly saying 'you got me there.'

"We need to get back to Sam and Bucky once Walker and the Dora Milaje are gone, but there's no foolproof way to go about it," you began pacing the room, as Zemo remained fixed beside the wall. "If I text Sam or Bucky, Walker will know they got a message, and they're both the worst liars I've ever met. God knows we don't need the Dora having any idea about where you are, you wouldn't last a full minute before they drove a spear through your chest. We also can't wait around too long, because then Sam and Bucky might leave Riga, and —"

You were still pacing and mid-sentence when Zemo suddenly grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you into a searing kiss, effectively silencing you. His other hand rested on the curve of your waist, pulling you against his chest. The surprise of the act and subsequent warm feeling in your stomach absolutely obliterated all other thoughts from your mind, and all you could focus on was him.

At some point, you regained your senses, albeit still in a haze. You pressed your palms to his shoulders and shoved him a few inches back, and he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes and lust-blown pupils.

“We – we need to focus on Sam and Bucky,” you managed to stammer out, but Zemo simply cupped your cheek and stroked the side of your face with his thumb.

“Is that truly what you want to be focusing on, Schatz?” Zemo inquired, his voice low, taking on even more of a gravely tone than usual. It flooded your veins with heat and desire, and you found your eyes fluttering closed as he bent down to pepper your neck with kisses. “Or would you rather simply wait out Walker and the Dora Milaje here, with me? Allowing me to touch you, taste you, in all the ways I know you crave?”

The final shred of your sanity left the building when he gently bit down on your neck, at the point where it met your shoulder, and you found yourself releasing a breathy moan and melting into his touch. Zemo wasted no time in kissing you once again, lips fast and insistent on yours, one hand on the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other on the nape of your neck once again. His body leaned into yours as he kissed you with fervor, and your hands longingly grasped the front of his sweater. Eventually, Zemo abruptly spun you around to press your back against the wall that had previously been behind him, and he hiked one of your legs up onto his hip, gripping it under your thigh. His other hand slowly moved from the back of your neck to the front, fingers curling deliciously around your throat as he applied a little pressure, earning another airy moan from you.

As if on reflex, his hips bucked up into you, and the friction left you mewling. Just like last time, it seemed to be your noises that set Zemo off, as he released a low growl from the back of his throat and dropped your leg to tear your shirt off while you took the hint and kicked off your shoes. He undid the fasten on your jeans with lightning speed, and yanked them – along with your panties – down past your hips so you could kick them both off. Next went your bra, which was flung god knows where in the room, and Zemo took a small step back to admire you.

It only lasted for a split second, because you then grabbed the straps he wore around his shoulders and used them to pull him in and kiss him again. Zemo’s hands glided slowly, sensually down your shoulders, your back, then came to rest upon your ass, grabbing it fiercely with both hands. His hands trailed further down, to the undersides of your thighs, before he lifted you with surprising ease and carried you over to the bed at the center of the room. Zemo threw you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, gaze locked on your chest as he watched your breasts bounce from the force, but you were quick to sit upright and pull him back in by the shoulder straps. You removed them then, as well as his turtleneck and belt buckle, and he was cooperative in removing his own boots and slacks, leaving him in his black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric there.

When you reached out to remove his briefs, Zemo pushed you to lay down by your shoulder, and knelt down at the edge of the bed, opening your legs at the knee with a harsh grip. You didn’t even have time to blink before he dove in, licking a long stripe up your slit before moving to your clit as your head fell back onto the mattress and your eyes fluttered closed. He focused primarily on your clit, occasionally lapping at your folds, but always returning his attention to that bundle of nerves. Gasps and moans were already falling for your lips, but when his middle finger and ring finger entered the fray, you found yourself crying out his name and tangling your fingers in his hair.

That delectable little growl of his escaped him once more, and you felt the vibrations of it against you, which warranted another moan, and Zemo’s fingers began delving in and out of your core at a steadfast pace. When he began curling them upwards, rubbing them against that sweet spot deep inside you, you were a goner. He wanted more of your beautiful sounds of pleasure, wanted to see you become more and more undone for him. You only lasted a couple minutes longer, growing progressively louder and more unhinged with each passing second. You were then launched over the edge, one hand tugging on his chestnut tresses and the other gripping the comforter of the bed, crying out his name amongst various explicatives.

When your eyes opened again, Zemo was standing, kicking off his boxers as he made eye contact with you while he sucked his fingers clean of you. He had set his wallet on the bedside table in the midst of your pacing, so he retrieved it and pulled a condom from one of the compartments. You sat up and snatched it from him, quickly tearing it open and rolling it down over his length. The sensation caused a sigh to leave his lips, before murmuring, "Eager, are we, Kätzchen?"

Electing to ignore him, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with you, wordlessly instructing him to lay down by pressing your hands on his chest. Zemo got the message with ease, happily complying as you straddled him. The sight of you sinking down on his clock, your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself, caused him to groan in pleasure. Far too eager to spend an abundant amount of time adjusting to him, you began moving, rocking your hips back and forth at a resolute pace, savoring the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. Zemo's hands rested on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin as he helped you keep your rhythm, while he gazed up at you as if you were a goddess in the flesh, his jaw hanging open slightly and hair disheveled.

By the time you were approaching your second orgasm, Zemo could tell, from the faltering of your hips as they strove to increase their speed, and from the way your nails raked down his chest each time you used his length inside you to hit that special spot there. He began thrusting up into you, eager to feel you come on his cock. You unintentionally caught a passing glance at his thoughts, and learned that it seemed that he always wanted more of you, needed more of you, to the point that he questioned if you had toyed with his mind somehow. You were about to inform him that no, you had not done anything to his mind, when he trusted particularly hard and deep up into you and his fingertips dug deliciously hard into your hips at the same time, and all sensual thoughts left your mind as you met your release a second time.

Still shaking slightly and moaning breathlessly, Zemo flipped you over onto your back, lifted your calf up onto his hip and held it there, and began pistoning in and out of you at a desperate, unforgiving pace. When your eyes fluttered open, you found that he was practically snarling above you, teeth bared in concentration and an intense fire in his eyes. It reminded you that his softness toward you did not change the fact that he was a criminal mastermind and former kill squad leader, who had done a great many terrible things. Yet the thought only made you want him even more, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him into a heated, haphazard kiss.

Zemo thrust in and out of you like a man on a mission, the sound of his pelvis colliding with yours filling the room, before he pulled out of you long enough to flip you onto your chest, face in the pillows and ass in the air, then resumed his pace. The new angle felt incredible, and it didn't take long before you were moaning into the pillows, fists clenched around the duvet. In the blink of an eye, Zemo grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you upright, your back flush against his chest.

"Do not hide your beautiful noises from me, Liebling. I want to hear you," Zemo commanded, and you moaned in response, both as a confirmation of his words and as a natural reaction to the low, gravely tone his voice took on. His hand moved to encase your neck, tilting your head back even further so he could trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, before biting down on your shoulder, earning a shuddering gasp from you. "Now tell me, Kätzchen: who makes you feel this good?"

"You," you choked out, groaning in pleasure when his fingers tightened their grip on your throat.

"Me, what?"

"You, Baron," you corrected, and Zemo hummed in approval, kissing you quickly in praise. He gave your neck another squeeze before throwing you back down onto the mattress, his hands on your hips as he returned his focus to fucking the very soul out of you.

As his hips began to stutter into yours and soft moans began falling from his lips, signaling he was approaching his end, Zemo reached around your body to begin expertly rubbing your clit, desperate for you to finish in unison. The way your walls fluttered around him let him know that he was on the right track, so he quickened the pace of his fingers on your clit, careful to maintain the angle he was thrusting at. As you fell apart beneath him a third and final time, your scream of "Baron!" and your core clenching around him like the most luxurious vice, Zemo found himself crying out your name in accompaniment with a low, guttural moan, spilling himself into the condom.

Zemo didn't move for a moment, hands still clutching your hips, albeit with a looser grip now, as he fought to catch his breath. Still panting, he slowly removed himself from you, falling into a sweaty heap beside you. Breathing heavily yourself, you leaned over to kiss him – far slower this time, both of you reveling in post-coitus bliss. He affectionately brushed your hair away from your face, as it had been stuck to your forehead from perspiration, before stroking your cheek with his thumb.

A brief eternity later, Zemo stood and headed to the restroom, no doubt disposing of the condom, before returning in one of the hotel’s white bathrobes and holding a cold rag. He flopped down onto the mattress, placing the towel over his forehead and eyes as he had earlier in his flat.

“Apologies, Schatz. As enjoyable as that was, it certainly did not help my migraine,” Zemo explained, blindly reaching out to grab your hand and bring it to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

You murmured a dismissive ‘you’re fine’ before heading to the washroom yourself, hopping into the shower and allowing the burning temperature of the water to ease the ache in practically all your muscles – some of it from fighting, some of it from fucking – although you suspected that the ache in your thighs, from being so tense throughout the multiple orgasms, wasn’t going away anytime soon. Thankfully, Zemo truly had done a marvelous job on your stitches, and the wound was already healing up nicely. By the time you finished your shower, the steam had clouded the room and coated the mirrors with condensation, but you felt more relaxed than you had in days. Donning a bathrobe yourself, you exited the bathroom, and situated yourself in the chair beside the floor-to-ceiling window on the wall of the room. Zemo was snoring softly, and the quiet tranquility of the room and the comfort of your seat sent you into a cat nap of your own, your head falling back against the chair as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You were entirely unsure how long you had slept, but when you awoke, Zemo was sitting with his back resting against the headboard, reading a random book he’d found in the room’s nightstand. He looked up at you long enough to flash you a small smile, before returning to the book. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then sat up straighter in the chair and gazed out the window beside you. You hadn’t noticed, but the room had a lovely view of the town square.

A few minutes after you began observing the city below, your eyebrows practically shot up into your hairline as you saw none other than the bastard himself, John Walker, chasing one of the Flag Smashers before hitting him with the shield, sending the man flying into the statue at the center of the square. Each member of the bustling crowd stopped dead in their tracks, watching the scene unfold before them, as this new Captain America placed his foot on the man’s chest, pinning him against the stairs of the statue, as the man screamed, “It wasn’t me!”

The chair you were sitting in clattered to the floor as you stood bolt upright, a shuddering gasp escaping you and your hand flying to your mouth as you watched Walker raise the shield high above his head, a completely unhinged look upon his face. Zemo was at your side in an instant, his hands on your upper arms as he stood behind you, a worried expression on his face, wondering what could have caused you such distress. Before he had the chance to ask, Zemo’s eye caught the scene below, and you both watched in shock and horror as John Walker drove the shield into the Flag Smasher’s chest, again and again and again, until the man just laid there – bloodied, bludgeoned, and unmoving. Dead, at the hands of the new Captain America.

—————

@henrysmorgan @clints-lucky-arrow @therenlover

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Companions react to the Courier doing the Infinite Money Glitch in casinos.

I had to look this up, OP, and then I had to conceptualize how this would even work in a storytelling context and write it, anyway I hope you're pleased with yourself because my brain feels like a stack of used sandpaper sheets

The courier had been saving up caps for a while, stashing them in odd places around the Lucky 38. Everywhere you looked there were bottle caps: Dresser drawers in the Presidential Suite, empty ice buckets in the cocktail lounge, in jars on every shelf in the penthouse. Saving up caps for big purchases was pretty common behavior in the Mojave wasteland for anyone, so no one batted an eye when the courier assembled all of the stashes on the carpeted floor of the casino and started counting them out, checking six times before stringing them together in batches of 50 and writing down the final total: 32,768.

No, no one so much as blinked when they lugged all 656 strings of caps out the door of the Lucky 38. No one, that is, except the lucky soul who went with them, saw them exchange all the caps for chips at The Tops Casino, then drop the chips in the back of The Aces theater during Bruce Isaac's set and return to the cashier to collect triple the amount of money they walked in with.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade cringed as the courier struggled to drag the haul of caps out the door of The Tops. The jingle of the cap strings was attracting the attention of just about everyone on the Strip, and someone across the street yelled "High roller!"

"This can't be legal," Arcade said.

"Since when..." the courier huffed and puffed, throwing cap strings over their shoulder carelessly, "... do you give a mole rat's ass about legality?"

"What is this?!?" Arcade hissed incredulously, gesturing to the jingling pile. "Is that cashier paying you off? Are those chips the currency for some wasteland tribe I've never heard of, but somehow have a better exchange rate than the NCR does? Did I just witness a payout for a hit on someone?"

The courier sighed and paused to pat the scientist on the shoulder. "Just don't think about it too hard, okay? Now help me out with this, we're going to Doctor Usanagi's to get me tricked out with as many implants as she has on hand."

Craig Boone: While the courier jingled their way across the Strip asphalt, Boone couldn't help noticing the number of eyes turning their way to stare at the enormous payout they were openly carrying. New Vegas was already a town that kept on trucking if its very creator was killed, that was certain: It wouldn't even pause if its latest mastermind was gunned down over a fortune in steel and aluminum crowns. Boone clutched his rifle close and met as many of the curious and envious stares as he could, his own eyes burning protectively behind his sunglasses.

They managed to get all the way back to the Lucky 38 before the courier stopped and spoke to him. "Nothing? Not even a guess about what this is from?"

Boone shrugged. "None of my business. Just don't carry it all at once again. Ever."

Lily Bowen: "Did you win, dearie?" Lily asked, confused. As far as she had noticed, the courier hadn't approached any of the blackjack tables, roulette wheels or slot machines.

"Yeah, Lily." The courier grinned and started handing her strings of caps to carry. "What do you want to spend your winnings on?"

"My winnings?" Lily shook her head. "Now now, pumpkin. You won fair and square, so you get to choose what you buy."

"My treat," the courier insisted. "Anything at all. We could go to the Gourmand for dinner, we could donate to the Followers in Freeside, we could get singing and dancing lessons from the King... what do you want?"

Lily thought for a moment, wracking her brains. "Brahmin for Jacobstown."

The courier looked at her quizzically. "Brahmin? Not bighorners?"

"Brahmin," Lily confirmed, shouldering the strings upon strings of caps. "Bighorners at Jacobstown will make more bighorners, but they have no brahmin. Brahmin are sweet, easier to handle. But no one will sell brahmin to nightkin."

"Okay." The courier nodded. "Then we have to go to the Gourmand for dinner anyway. I know a guy at the Ultra-Luxe who might help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Dios mío," Raul muttered under his breath. "Who did you kill for the Chairmen? They finally paying you back for getting rid of Benny?"

"Pfft." The courier waved him off, dropping a few strings of caps as they did. "Whoops. Help me out here, and I'll buy you a drink."

"A drink?" Raul laughed. "Not the whole bar? You could probably convince the Garret twins to retire if you gave them half of this haul."

"And why the hell would I want to take over the Atomic Wrangler?" The courier shook their head as they loaded the old ghoul up with caps. "I already have one casino I'm incapable of running. The only customers I get are you and the other Mojave misfits."

Raul grinned. "Hey, you invited us in, amigo. We're just the only ones loco enough to ignore the robots and take you up on it."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Oh, sweet squirrel stew." Cass' eyes were as big as the dinner plates in the casino's restaurant. "That's enough change to buy the Van Graffs out of business. That's enough change to tell Alice McLafferty to stick it where the sun don't shine, then back it up with enough muscle to scare her out of the Mojave."

The courier nodded and started handing her strings of caps. "It is also enough change to start funding her competitors and drive her out of New Vegas."

"Now you're talkin'." Cass smirked and accepted the extra weight. "So who're we gonna back? Far Go? The Water Merchants? Gun Runners?"

"Actually..." the courier smiled. "A little birdie told me that the Mojave Express is looking to expand its horizons. Start offering goods in addition to services. And you know me, I like to root for the home team when I can."

Cass laughed. "Well that's a surprise. You plannin' on playin' courier again? Get yourself shot in the head a second time?"

"Not if I can help it."

Veronica Santangelo: "Uhhhh, Six?" Veronica crossed her arms. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to stir up trouble for a bit after the adventure at the dam. This screams 'trouble' to me."

"Aw, lighten up Veronica." The courier winked at her and handed her a string of caps, like a consolation prize. "We're in a casino. The odds aren't in your favor, but at least you can have fun for a bit."

Veronica turned the offering down. "Math may not have been my strongest subject when I was in school, but I do know that 30,000 minus 30,000 does not equal 90,000, under any normal odds. What are you getting yourself- and more importantly, me- into?"

The courier sighed. "It's nothing. Just a little loophole I discovered when I was poking around after Benny's disappearance. I promise, we're not going to get knifed, unless we get waylaid in the street on the way home because I'm too weighed down to move."

Veronica narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I don't trust this," she said after a few beats, "But I'm also not keen to see you try to fight off a mugger while buried under all those caps. Give me some of that."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped, confused, when the courier stopped it from picking up the chips again. Its beeps increased in volume and frequency as they loaded the little bot up with caps at the cashier's counter, until it was hanging low in the air and having trouble turning around from the increased weight. The courier patted its metal dome reassuringly and loaded up the rest of the haul on themselves, until each step they took sounded like a cascade of sleigh bells.

"Back to the Lucky 38," the courier said, pointing toward the casino door. "I've got a bet I need to settle with Raul."

Rex: Rex whined as the courier hung strings of caps off his back. He sniffed each new addition but stood tall on his metal legs, taking the extra weight admirably until he was virtually buried by the wasteland currency.

"Can you still walk, boy?" the courier asked, when they had lightened their own load.

Rex barked. Satisfied, the courier led the way to the exit, opening the casino door with a jingle and ignoring the strange looks they were getting. The two waddled their way to the Strip's main gate and down the main street of Freeside until they staggered into the King's School of Impersonation.

The King, who had been lounging inside the stage room, jumped up when he saw the pair. "Well ain't that some money, honey," he said, clearly delighted. "You actually went and did it."

"Yep." The courier dropped some strings of caps on the nearest table and leaned over it to rest. "There it is. Now, where do we get started on fixing up Freeside?"

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

haiiiiiiiiiiiiii can we get a john x fem reader wherein the reader is the doctor and a friend of the macfarlanes and they patch him up after getting shot by bill LOL (rdr1!! i’m not sure if you’ve played that but if you havent it’s ok to ignore this tysm :3)

WOAHH this is long overdue but I haven’t played the first (don’t kill me) so I decided to watch a 10hr play through— I’m yet to finish it cause its long and I’m watching it in short segments but I think I could tackle this. I really hope this doesn’t flop bc idk what I’m doing lmao.

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

It’s just a regular afternoon when Bonnie returns back to the ranch, you’re cleaning some of the medical cabinets, making lists of what needs to be topped up when you next take a trip to town or the Ranch’s general store. It’s light work for an easy afternoon but that all change pretty quickly when Bonnie came storming through the door, asking you for help on a man who’d been shot and needed urgent medical attention.

The list of medicines is dropped to the floor as she shows you to one of the units where he was currently laid out in the bed. You sat down, clearing his shirt and jacket to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. You were well focused on your work, stitching up the wound with practiced ease and addressing his other minor injuries like the small cut to the back of his head from hitting the ground and the bruising to his ribs from the bullet wound. Unbeknown to you, Bonnie has taken a stand behind your shoulder to watch you work.

“Damn fool thought he could take out Bill Williamson.”

“Bill Williamson?”

You could only stare down in surprise at the unconscious man before you. A man like Bill Williamson was not to be reckoned with, especially in a shootout if the evidence before you is anything to go by.

It took a few more hours of care but Bonnie stayed with you to make light of the situation and keep you company, only coming and going to bring back any supplies you needed. Once you’d properly bandaged his abdomen you stood from the shabby wooden stool you were sitting on and dusted your hands. You collected your tools into your bag and placed a soft hand to Bonnie’s shoulder.

“He should be fine now. He’s going to need lots of rest while his wound heals and he’ll probably be disoriented and dehydrated when he wakes but nothing more, you’ll find me if his condition worsens?”

Bonnie gave you a short nod in agreement, happy to stay with him for a few hours while you went and got some rest.

John woke with a splitting headache and a burning pain in his side. The events of the last few days coming back to him. He didn’t get time to think about it much however, when a golden haired woman came through the door, instantly giving him a light hearted lecture about chasing after Bill Williamson and getting shot at.

“Well while you may have done something stupid— we got to you in time and the Doc fixed you up real fine, got the bullets removed a few days ago. You’re a lucky man Mr…err?”

John made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning at the pain that is usual for a bullet wound.

“Mr. Marston— John Marston and I suppose I should be thankin’ him for fixing me up.”

The woman leaned against the handle of the door, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly as she smirked at him.

“Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss, Bonnie MacFarlane and I hope you do thank her. She did a real fine job of takin’ care of you. She spends her mornings up on the hill by one of the large oak trees by the paddock, I suggest you pay her a visit before you start working off your medical bills.”

And with that, John picked up his hat from the wooden table that Bonnie had saved for him and started making his way over to you.

You were standing over by one of the smaller sheep paddocks off to the side of the MacFarlane Ranch and took in a deep breath, basking in the morning sun and leaning your elbows against the fence. You usually took the mornings to yourself, having half an hour to wake up slowly and enjoy yourself before you tented to a range of injuries and illnesses. Having been longtime friends to Bonnie and her father, your family had always been respected at the ranch and that came with certain privileges such as time off work in the morning.

Your peaceful moment was distributed, but not unpleasantly as you noticed the man who Bonnie bought in yesterday walking towards you. When he reached a certain distance his hat came off and held it in his hands, flattening his stringy hair as he addressed you.

“Pardon me ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Miss MacFarlane said you were the one needed thanking for taking care o’ me— so thank you.”

You noticed how he fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, trying not to look what you’d guess was embarrassed.

After you two introduced each other and you accepted John’s thanks, you offered for him to come and stand beside you by the fence.

“So who does a man have to be to go after an outlaw and bandit such as Bill Williamson?”

Your question was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, ready to tease him just as Bonnie had done for waltzing into Fort Mercer alone. You didn’t expect for John to answer you honestly

“An old friend…”

You stared at him in shock but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared out into the paddock of grazing sheep.

“Wait you know Bill Williamson?”

He could only nod for a moment, giving you a polite but almost sad smile at what seemed like a painful memory.

“Yes ma’am. There was a time when Bill and I weren’t so different.”

You actually spent a lot longer than you’d anticipated talking to John. For some reason unknown to you, John seemed to open up a fair bit. Maybe it all came down to the fact that you were approachable and kind, a quality you needed as the ranches doctor. Nevertheless he spent hours telling you about some of his time with the old ‘Van Der Linde Gang’. John spoke of train robberies and homesteads, what it was like to steal from folk and live wildly. He even mentioned gang rivalries and the epic tale of surviving a wolf attack.

He told you of some of the best times and even the worst but all of them were distance memories and he seemed quick to change the topic about why exactly he wanted to ‘reunite’ with Bill.

“What about you, Miss? How’d you end up here? Don’t see many female doctors around— w-with no offence intended ma’am.”

You let out a small laugh, hearing his curiosity turn to something desperate as he realised he may have been offensive. You kept your weight on one elbow, facing towards him and smiled.

“Well my daddy is the head doctor but he’s now semi retired. He’s a good man but he wasn’t always a doctor. A long time ago, when I was just a little girl our family were ranch handlers just like Bonnie’s family, but well… one season all the cattle got sick and were dying so my father moved to medicine. The MacFarlane’s are old friends and we’ve been with them ever since.”

John hummed, turning his gaze from you to stare at the vast Ranch that was almost a village in his eyes.

“Seem like good people— real decent folk.”

You nodded in response, growing up on this ranch became your home and you loved the MacFarlane’s very deeply.

“Indeed they are Mr.Marston, decent folk are hard to come by these days.”

Your pleasant conversation with John was suddenly interrupted by Bonnie who whistled down by the stables, clearly signalling for John to come and assist her with chores around the ranch. You could only hope that meant seeing more of John.

“It seems Miss MacFarlane will be needing my help. Thank you again ma’am, you saved my life.”

You didn’t get to say much as John took your hand in his, brining it to his mouth in a polite kiss to your knuckle before walking down the hill. He didn’t get far before you stopped him one last time.

“Oh Mr. Marston! I need to ride into town tomorrow to restock on medicines that they don’t stock at the general store. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

You eyes were full of hope and joy as he nodded and gave you a warm smile.

“It’s John, and I could think of nothing better than to help you ma’am”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto your face as you watched John load his horse and ride of with Bonnie and a few others to work at various places around the ranch. You couldn’t stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach either at the anticipation and excitement of getting to see the mysterious but intriguing man John Marston.

(I will do a part 2 since i need more time to get a feel for rdr1!!)

#wow my first rdr1 fic #i have no idea what im doing #if this is horrible pls tell me bc i am soo lost #but i hope i did johnny justice here #and yes i promise a part 2 #john marston #john marston x reader #john marston imagines #red dead redemption 1 #red dead redemption #rdr1 #rdr2 #fem!reader

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years

Text

Being Peter Parker’s Little Sister Would Include

Even as a young boy Peter knew to protect you with his life

He hated seeing you upset

So, he always made sure you were happy

Sure, he was the kind of brother that would tease you to no end

But he was also the kind who would hold you when you cried

He’d help you while you studied

Always gave you first pick

And he made sure you’d never feel a lack of love or acceptance

Him along with Uncle Ben and Aunt May made sure your childhood was a happy one

You were lucky enough to be so young that you don’t remember your parents

But you felt guilty for it

That you couldn’t remember the people who gave you life

So, you were always asking to hear stories about them

You and Ben would be curled up on the couch while he told you about your mother and father

You and May would bake and cook and clean together, always trying out new things and forcing the boys to eat it

Even though your life didn’t have such a good start

It was perfect

Until one day

A burglar broke into the house and held you at gun point, telling Ben he’d shoot you if they didn’t show him whatever was in the house

Your uncle Ben tried to reach for you but you heard a shot by your ear

Even though you shut your eyes you still saw the bullet hit Ben and felt his blood on your face and heard his body hit the ground

May and you saying your goodbyes to him, crying on the floor, covered in his blood

When Peter came home you were wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the edge of the ambulance where they were loading Uncle Ben

The next few days passing by in a blur

Crying in Peter’s arms while he tried to stay strong for you

One day after crying your heart out you managed to fall asleep in Peter’s bed

Seeing your face, he just broke down apologizing for doing this

You met Spiderman a few days after the funeral, at Uncle Ben’s grave

“I’m so sorry, if I had stopped the burglar before then this wouldn’t have happened to you. I promise I will find him and make him pay.”

“It was.... horrific. I saw it with my own eyes. That someone wouldn’t need to blink before taking someone’s life. That someone lacked so much humanity that they broke into a home and killed someone’s family. He’s a monster.”

“I’ll make him pay for what he did to your family.”

“If you kill somebody then you’re no better than he was. Don’t blame yourself, Spiderman, Uncle Ben wouldn’t have wanted it. Blame yourself for a very short time, but in turn, remember it forever. Don’t forget about him.”

“I promise.”

Just as Peter was about to leave, you spoke up again

“Uncle Ben always used to say that there wasn’t a point in becoming a new you if you forgot who you were.”

Suddenly Peter felt extremely nervous and sweaty and you turned to him with a small smile

“I’ll get my life together, I have my aunt and my brother, but I won’t forget who I used to be with Uncle Ben. You should do the same.”

He smiled awkwardly under the mask but you obviously didn’t see it before leaving without another word

You watched him shoot a web and swing away, chuckling

“Come back home safe tonight, Peter.”

Things get better after that

The man who killed Uncle Ben was caught and turned over to the police

And you begin to start paying attention to Peter’s alter ego

Being quick to accept his half-baked excuses and even giving better reasons to Aunt May

Sometimes you wonder just how stupid Peter thinks you are though because he expects you to believe these excuses of his

Always coming to the rescue when he forgets to do something because he was so busy

When he left Aunt May and you waiting at a restaurant for him, you conveniently remembered how he had a school project right when you saw Spiderman swing by the window, trying to catch a few criminals

When he forgot to bring Uncle Ben’s cake home, you picked it up saying that you took the reminder off his phone because you were planning to choose the best looking one

When you saw Harry waiting at the library for him, you told him that Peter got sick so he went home early

Keeping the first aid kit always stocked should Peter need anything

Teaching him to sew but telling him it was part of a home ec exercise so he could learn how to stitch up his own suit

Always silently looking after Peter

Whenever the three of you see a news report about him and Aunt May says that he’s awesome

You chuckling and saying

“Behind every amazing man there’s an equally amazing woman.”

Peter totally agreeing and then being nice to the two of you for the rest of the day

Things take a turn however when an Osborn gone crazy trying to get his hands on Peter finally turned his head to see you

And in his twisted goblin brain, he finally gets an idea

Peter’s DNA is too difficult to get his hands on because he has super powers and has been mutated because of the spider bite

But yours?

Blank slate free for him to manipulate

And you couldn’t fight back

It was all too easy to pluck you right out of their hands and bring you to his lair

Peter goes crazy trying to find you

Begging Nick, nearly in tears to help him find you

And Nick is actually kind of worried because he’s never seen Peter this way

Dispatches as many troops as he can afford trying to look for you

And as per Spiderman’s daily routine, he begins blaming himself

If you got hurt because he wasn’t there to protect you again, he’d never forgive himself

When they find you, you’re in a stasis chamber, nearly dead

There were vials of blood all over the place, and you looked severely malnourished

Peter definitely cried when he saw you

The team trying to comfort him, trying to get him to eat something while you’re in the med bay but him not moving

Although one day they notice something weird

Your heart rate suddenly spiked for some reason and you began tensing and struggling in the bed

Peter tried to get you to relax and immediately called a doctor

When they tried injecting you with a tranquilizer however your body was covered with a blue slime before slamming the doctor against the wall

It wasn’t difficult to figure out

You had been infected by a symbiote

It wasn’t long after that you woke up

Peter and Aunt May cried when you opened your eyes

They told you that Spiderman and his team saved you and even though you wanted to meet the team something told you that Peter was reluctant to get back in the suit

So, you continued to pretend you had no idea of his alter ego

Even though regular coma patients have to go through physiotherapy to get back their physical strength

You never had to do anything of the sort

They S.H.I.E.LD. doctors assume it’s because of the symbiote

You noticed how closed off Peter became and one day sat him down

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t deserve to be in this family.”

“What?! How can you say that?!”

“All I do is bring bad luck and people end up getting hurt because of me!”

“It wasn’t your fault Peter. How could you have known that the Goblin would have taken me.”

“It is my fault. Because of me, Uncle Ben was killed and because of me, you could have been too. I bring misfortune to everyone I ever loved.”

You see the way his face falls and your heart breaks

To see him blame himself this way and hate himself

To see him questioning his identity

The reason he became Spiderman was to make sure no innocent ever got hurt but because he was Spiderman his baby sister nearly died

So, you gently took his hand in yours

“I already told you, didn’t I? Blame yourself for a short time. But remember it forever.”

His eyes widened, remembering what you told Spiderman nearly a year ago

“You knew?”

“I’ve always known. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you, Peter. You risk yourself every day to protect other people.”

“And I couldn’t even protect you.”

“I’m okay now. I know how you must feel but I hate seeing you like this. Uncle Ben would’ve hated it too. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m responsible for keeping my family safe.”

You didn’t know how to help him

You knew he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders and that it was difficult to live a life like this

‘With great power comes great responsibility’

But sometimes things are out of your control

So, you don’t say anything else and just pull him into your arms

The way he did when Uncle Ben had passed

And gently rubbed his back

“I love you, bro.”

And he just breaks down in your arms, apologizing for everything and you just held him tight and trying to calm him down

And in the middle of his crying he managed to stutter out an ‘I love you too.’

And then the two of you become the Spider Siblings

Dance Parties on the ceiling and swinging around town in the morning because you both slept in and now you’re late

Swining races that he claims to let you win

Talking about life while hanging from the side of a building

Going to Uncle Ben’s grave to keep him updated and tell him not to worry because now there are 2 superheroes there to protect Aunt May

Him training you and being extra hard on you during training because he wants you to be better than him

But also becoming sugary sweet after training and offering to piggyback you home because you’re so tired

Will let you take naps in the corner of the training room while he trains

Hates it when you get along with Sam

Also gets super stressed out when you’re on the field and tries to double the amount of people he fights so you don’t have to

But he knows you can hold your own

And gets really proud when you do but won’t tell you

Always makes sure you’re eating well and sleeping well

Now if you ever brought a boy home you never know what to expect

Sometimes he just teases you to no end

Or he completely freaks out and goes totally papa bear over you

In conclusion

Peter Parker as a big brother isn’t the type to be completely like a guardian

He has a lot of things going on in his life so he ends up relying on you a lot

But you wouldn’t trade him for the world

#Ultimate Spider-Man #ultimate spiderman #ultimate spider man #ultimate spiderman x reader #ultimate spider man x reader #peter parker #peter parker headcanon #peter parker sister #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #USM #usm x reader #USM x you

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moregaythanyourealized · 3 years

Text

The Mayor

Part 3

“We start this evenings broadcast with shocking news from town hall. This morning at roughly 8:30 our dear Mayor was killed by none other than Doc Ock. Luckily for us though he is behind bars thanks to the efforts of Y/n L/n, who is now being sworn into office.” The camera showed the procedure and Y/n in a new outfit. A blue dress that fir her quite well. Otto couldn’t stand it. He had only been in prison for a few hours and he already hated his life more than before. He was drugged up and his machine felt much heavier than it used to, he had next to no control of his body. His only way to see the world was through a small grainy TV that was posted in the corner of his cell.

His cell was incomprehensibly unfitting for a man such as himself. An old bed that left a crick in his neck. A toilet which he thankfully hadn’t needed to use yet. And a small table in the corner with the even smaller TV. The walls of his cell were unbreakable. Some material he didn’t know the name of surrounded the outside of it. He could chip at the concrete but the outside wouldn’t budge. Somehow he was sure you had funded the building of this cell. Just to spite him. The TV showed you suddenly and his attention was drawn back,

“It was terrifying to be in the clutches of such a lunatic. I did what anyone would do, if only I could’ve done more to save our dear Mr Thomas. May he rest in peace.” What a load of shit, he thought. You had fooled the people just like you had fooled him,

“What will happen to Doc Ock?” Y/n brushed her hair out of her face and looked directly into the camera,

“After I visit him tomorrow, he’ll be getting what he deserves. I demand justice for the death of Mayor Thomas.” People clapped in the background and Otto shut off the TV trying to get some sleep. He dreamed of you and this morning. He dreamed of how he wished it went.

The rain pouring down over the both of you as he held you close. You’d look up at him and pull him in close kissing him softly and thanking him for saving the city. For saving you. His hands would wrap around your waist and he’d carry you back to your apartment and you two would dry off and have a romantic dinner together. Sharing your plans for the future of New York....

He awoke with a start. Some guard yelling at him to get up. Groaning he lifted himself from the bed and walked sluggishly towards the door. A series of clicks and other strange noises come from the other side of the wall before the door swung open. Being handcuffed yet again he was led to a glass enclosure. This is miserable, he thought. They’re treating me like an animal. He was sealed inside the glass and felt cool air conditioning by his feet. A large vent blowing freezing air and making the space breathable. It woke him up a bit. The effects of whatever they injected slowly wearing off. One of his claws knocked on the glass, no damage. He couldn’t just break out either, there were guards all over the entire prison. When the door opened again he scowled. You looked tiny compared to the metal door and waltzed in as if you were an old friend. You wore a long pale pink coat and black gloves finished off with a black ascot. You looked unbearably cute but knew what you really were,

“What do you want L/n?”

“I listen to the people, and they demanded I see you to know you’re reasoning for killing a public figure.” Slamming his fist against the glass he stared you down,

“I did it because you told me to, you crazy bitch.” You nodded in agreement pulling off your gloves gingerly and setting them in your pocket,

“And I did it because you made it easy, if you had been smarter I might’ve avoided you and picked someone else to help me.” His appendages moved like protective snakes behind him.

“Did you come here just to mock me?” You got closer to the glass tilting your head to see his expression he looked distant. It made you a little sad,

“I don’t want you to rot here in prison. Because despite all that I’ve said...” You cleared your throat,

“The greatest thrill and joy I’ve had so far was the short time I worked alongside you.” He met your eyes and did nothing for awhile. Then he just sighed and turned away from you,

“I can’t deal with this right now.” You frowned and stepped back,

“Fine. I understand you don’t exactly like or trust me. But if there’s anything I can do...just let me know.” God! You really were confusing. One minutes you’re kissing, then you have him thrown in jail and now you’re asking about doing him favors? What are you trying to do to this poor mans head?

“Tell the guards to give me some time before they take me back to my cell.”

—————POV CHANGE—————

He hears the door close and looks around before using one of his metal arms to pry the top off the air vent. He wasn’t going to fit through it but he could tear up the floor around it to make him fit. And that’s exactly what he did. While you told the guards to give him time and to treat him better than other prisoners the doctor was wondering through the giant vents. His brain felt sharp and alert again. So did his tentacles, a flicker of red warned him to stop but he wouldn’t, not when he’s gotten this far. Finally he found a vent to a control room. He burst through the ceiling and killed both the guards. He sat at the computer and began typing. Y/n was going to regret this. With a few clicks and the push of a button all cell doors, outside doors, and gates were unlocked. He’ll had been released and so had New York’s greatest super villains. The city would be chaos and with the record for shortest office time ever, Y/n would be kicked out and replaced. Maybe the new shmuck in charge would know how to handle the city. Leaving the room he flew down the halls. His tentacles taking him to the personal belongings room. Searching the drawers he found what he was looking for. Grabbing his jacket and glasses he exited the building (cue epic music). Walking over crowds of anyone from petty thefts to fellow evil doers he stepped into the freshly fallen snow. It was around noon, by nightfall this place would be a wreck. He saw your car leave the parking lot. His tentacles took over, the flashing red now bright and constant. One grabbed the car while another ripped the door off. He heard your screaming from inside and did nothing to hide the joy spreading across his face. Your face paled when you saw who had wrecked your car and you pushed yourself as far away as you could. He got closer to the car and looked in the gaping hole on the side. You were shaking against the door on the opposite side. A limb reached in and wrapped around her neck. She closed her eyes expecting the worst. But the machine only untied her ascot from her neck and tied it around her mouth. She tried to scream again but it was muffled by the gag. Then ripping leather from the interior of the car it was tied tightly around her wrists and ankles. Pulling her into the cold air she shook her head,

“I think it’s time Brooklyn sees the type of leader you really are. Let’s have some fun.” His voice was different now. Dark and clever. The wreckage of downtown broke your heart. Historical buildings destroyed or burned down. Hundreds of not thousands of criminals on the streets. Between the speed you were going at and the ice in your eyes they all looked like blurs. The wind stopped whipping at your face, you couldn’t see what was behind you but you could tell where you were. The bank, of course. It was hard to process everything. Eventually you stopped trying and just laid across his shoulder. Setting you down he demanded the bank teller open all the safes,

“If you don’t, I’ll break every bone in her body. One by one. When I’m done she’ll be so deformed her own mother won’t recognize her.” The teller scrambled with the keys and began unlocking everything. He laughed and began bagging what looked the most valuable,

“I hope you know this is very much your fault.” He smiled at you. The sinking in your stomach only went deeper. When he finished he picked you up once more like a rag doll and exited the building. Crushing the ceiling on the way out,

“Where shall we go? The city is ours.” He said nothing but got a devious glint in his eyes before taking you back through downtown. He stopped in front of your apartment. How did he know where you lived? When you entered the building it was like a ghost town. No employees or lobby boys. Only the distant sounds of chaos and the ding of the elevator as you ride it up to the top floor. Thankfully he didn’t know which exact apartment belonged to you. He set you down and you pointed to a door near the end of the hall. He didn’t bother to pick you back up or untie your feet so you could walk. He just dragged you behind him along the carpet while he talked about the design of the building. He stopped in front of your door. His human hands found their way to your waist. You tried to wiggle away from him but he reached down. You sighed when you realized he was only getting the keycard from your pocket.

You apartment was cold. He set you on the couch and began trying to light a fire in your fireplace,

“You have a lovely place, sure know how to use the tax payers money huh?” He let his jacket fall to the floor, revealing his bare chest. He must’ve been cold outside without a shirt on. He was out of sight and into your kitchen. He came back with a bottle of wine and a large glass. He left your hands tied but undid the restraints around your ankles and mouth. Taking a deep breath in you went to yell at him. Before you could you were pulled into his lap. Switching the TV on he shushed you and ran a hand down your back making you shiver,

“Is it the end times? Citizens of New York are wondering what is happening? Mere hours after Mayor L/n is elected the city falls into destruction. On her trip to visit Doc Ock it’s believed he escaped and freed the other prisoners. Riots, fires, building destroyed and collapsed in what’s possibly New York’s worst day yet.” The camera switched to different people getting interviewed,

“It’s terrible! I’m afraid to leave my home!”

“I knew we shouldn’t have elected a woman.”

“I heard she was working with the Doctor the entire time!” Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t reach the remote, and if you tried to get up he’d just pull you right back down. Guilt was the main emotion, but you felt some resentment as well. These people knew nothing! You were tricked... kinda, not really. But you never intended for this mess to happen. Karma had finally caught up with you. The people on the news kept taking and talking. You couldn’t take it anymore,

“Turn it off! Please!” Otto shrugged and changed the channel to a hockey game,

“Is all the pressure getting to you, Mayor?” His hand was resting on your thigh while the other held his wine glass. You wanted desperately to shower and go to bed. To wake up in a different dimension where nothing ever happened. The room became unbearably hot. You weren’t sure wether it was the fireplace or the guilt (or maybe something else),

“Could you untie my hands please? I’d like to get out of my coat.” You got off his lap and stuck your hands out for him to untie,

“Last time I trusted you, you and me thrown in jail. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking you to untie my hands.” He stood up and began slowly uniting them. He watched you intensely as you took your coat off. Turning away from his gaze you walked into your bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a strong powerful leader who was going to get out of this mess....somehow.

#doc ock x reader #doc ock #mcu x reader #mcu phase 4 #spiderman #alfred molina #fanfic #tw violence

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songtoyou · 4 years

Text

Tempting Fate - Part Six

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 1,815

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

Chapter Summary: Tommy gets attacked by Sabini’s thugs. You help him recuperate at home. He tells you of his plan to meet with Alfie Solomons to join forces against Sabini.

A/N: While this story takes place during season two of the show, I made some changes to the timeline. For instance, Tommy meets May before meeting Alfie Solomons. Tommy also gets attacked by Sabini’s men long after meeting May. I just wanted to make that clear. The Garrison got bombed and rebuilt before the start of the story.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

You knew it was not a good idea for Tommy, Arthur, and John to go to London to appear at the Eden Club. The jazz club was owned by Darby Sabini, the man who currently controls half of the southern racecourses. These are racecourses Tommy desired to take over for himself. To no surprise, the Shelby brothers more than let their presence at the club be known, making sure to cause a raucous and leaving destruction in their path. Typical antics by the Shelby brothers. You and Polly adamantly told Tommy that being reckless was not how to get noticed by Sabini, but Tommy merely brushed them both off.

"Sabini is aware of us now. That was the whole purpose of the trip. He'll make his move, eventually, and when he does, we will be ready," Tommy voiced nonchalantly.

You merely shook her head in disapproval at Tommy. "Okay, the fact that you gave Sabini the upper hand is a really dumb move," you said honestly. "Why would you do that, Tommy? Do you have a death wish or something?" you asked him, concerned for his wellbeing.

Tommy got up from his chair to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to gently rub them to help calm your nerves. He softly spoke your name and told you that everything was going to be okay. "You got nothing to worry about, love. You got to trust me on this. I know what I am doing; nothing about my plan is out of place," Tommy reassured you.

However, the small voice inside you was telling you otherwise. It did not take long for your fears to come to fruition. You were at the betting shop helping Polly and Esme on little tasks when they got word that Tommy was in the hospital. Apparently, Tommy got set up by the Jews who asked him for a sit-down only to be attacked by Sabini and his thugs. You told Polly that you were going with her to the hospital. Before she could refuse, you held your hand up to say, "I'm going. Don't try to stop me."

Polly waved you along to follow her to the car and told Esme to watch the house. On the way to the hospital, you kept shaking your leg right leg and fidgeting in your seat.

"I told Tommy something like this would happen, but he didn't listen. He never listens," you almost shouted.

Polly could only sigh, "That's Thomas for you. He always claims to know what is right. He never takes what others think or feel into consideration."

You pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, and let it out. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it?" you asked, looking towards Polly. "Always worrying about him?"

"Yes. If you are going to be with Tommy, then that will be your life from now on. Think you can handle it?"

"I don't know. But I know no other woman would be able to. He needs someone to look after him, even though he may not think so," you told Polly, who let out an amused chuckle.

"What?" you asked her, confused.

"Nothing, dear. You really were made for Tommy. The two of you are written in the stars," Polly praised happily. "I'm glad Tommy has you around to look after him. Helps ease off my load."

When you and Polly made it to the hospital, it didn't take long to find Tommy. The doctor told you both that Tommy was lucky to be alive. Polly asked you if it was okay for her to see Tommy first. You agreed and waited until she was done.

Polly was only in the room with Tommy for fifteen minutes.

"We're leaving," said Polly.

When she reached for your arm, you pulled away. "What? No! I need to see him!" you shouted.

"Shhh!" ordered Polly. "He says he doesn't want any more visitors. He needs to rest, now let's go."

But you pulled out Polly's grasp and walked towards the hospital room. You saw a row of beds, and Tommy was at the very end. You slowly walked up to him and sat down. It pained you to see him in such a state. Cheek cut, eye swollen shut, ribs bruised and broken. It took all of your strength not to break down in front of him.

He looked at you but didn't say anything. Leaning his head back on the pillow, Tommy let out a disappointed sigh. You didn't say anything. The last thing you wanted to do was scold him or tell him, "you told him so." That wasn't what he needed. So you reached for his hand and intertwined it with yours. He squeezed it tightly. It was his way of thanking you for being there with him.

Nothing was needed to be said between the two of you. Tommy was grateful to have you next to him, even if he didn't actually say it. Your gesture showed him that you were not going anywhere and that you would stay by his side no matter what happened.

What's worst is that Sabini's men also accosted Ada. Thankfully, Tommy already had some of the Peaky Blinders watching out for his little sister. But it was Ada who eventually fought off the thugs herself. You had yet to meet Ada but heard a lot about her from her brother's and aunt. You found out that Ada's husband, Freddie, had recently died from pestilence, and they had a young son, Karl. Ada decided not to move back to Birmingham but chose to stay in London for she didn't want much to do with her family. However, Tommy was not too keen on letting his little sister cut him and the others out of her life so easily. Typical Tommy, you thought.

You visited Tommy every day at the hospital for the first week. By the second week, you could tell he was getting restless. "I need to get out of here," he kept telling you.

"Tommy," you began, "You need to rest and heal."

Unfortunately, Tommy didn't listen and checked himself out of the hospital. Luckily, you caught him as he was getting ready to leave.

"What do you think you are doing, Thomas?" you scolded him. But he didn't say anything.

Tommy struggled to put on his coat. You let him struggle as you knew helping would only make him feel emasculated. When Tommy finally looked at you with pleading eyes, you walked over and helped him into his coat. You folded his collar down and smoothed out his shirt underneath.

While his face had healed up nicely, it still pained you to look at him. His ribs were still bruised but still managed to be able to move around. You offered your arm for him to take, which he did.

Slowly, you both walked out of the hospital.

"I couldn't stay there anymore. Sabini's men would have come to finish me off eventually or someone else," Tommy told you. What he did not tell you was that Chester Campbell visited him earlier. Campbell found out that Tommy killed Eamonn Duggan and threatened Tommy to work for him as a spy or be jailed and hanged.

"Take me back to your place," Tommy instructed. "I'll finish healing there, okay."

"Well, that makes me feel a little bit better," you said with a small smile.

When you got Tommy home, you took him up to your bed, where he slept for the remainder of the day. You fed him when he got up and cleaned his wounds. You told him to stay put when you went for your shift at The Garrison. He was already asleep when you returned. You snuggled next to help and held him while he slept peacefully. Polly, Arthur, and John would make trips to your house to check on Tommy and give him updates on the business. This routine occurred for another week before Tommy became eager to get back to work physically.

He told you that he was heading back to London to meet Alfie Solomons, the leader of the Jewish gangsters in Camden Town. "I'm going to offer Solomons to join forces with us. I also need to stop by Ada's home to see how she is doing. If she is going to stay in London, then she needs a better place to stay, so I bought her a house," Tommy shared with you that morning.

"How are you getting to London?" you asked him curiously. "More than likely, Sabini's men or folks he hired are keeping watch to let him know of your whereabouts."

"I got that covered. I'm meeting up with Charlie and Curry in an hour down by the canal. Curry will take me to London on a barge. It will take a couple of days to get there…"

"Is anyone else going with you?" you interrupted Tommy.

He shook his head 'no' and lit a cigarette. "I need to do this myself," Tommy said to you.

While Tommy knew that you more than likely would have wanted to go with him to make sure he stayed safe, you nodded your head as a show of understanding. You realized that it would be in your best interest to trust Tommy and not doubt him.

"Well, while you are gone, Esme and I are going to meet up with Johnny Dogs to head to a fair not too far from here. The kids have been bugging John and her about going to a fair. John couldn't go, so I offered to go with her. I think Esme is a little bit homesick. She misses traveling."

"Please stay out of trouble while I'm gone," Tommy advised firmly. "I don't want to picture the trouble you and Esme will no doubt get into. Both of you, please behave yourself."

You couldn't hold back your laughter. "We're going to have the kids with us, so not much trouble the two of us can get into. But don't worry, we will behave ourselves," you told Tommy and got up to kiss on the lips.

Before you could step back, his hand grasped the back of your head and deepened the kiss. With Tommy's injuries, the two of you hadn't been intimate with one another in a long while.

When Tommy stood up, he began unbuttoning your blouse and walking you back to the bedroom.

"Tommy, we can't. You're still hurt," you pleaded, but it went on deaf ears as Tommy guided you to the bed.

"I need you, love. It has been too long. Trust me, being inside you will make me feel better," Tommy uttered while kissing your neck and chest.

Who were you to deny the man? You needed him just as he needed you.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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wendystales · 3 years

Text

Memories - lrh (Chapter Seven)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Six ※※※※※ Chapter Eight

The sun and heat were plaguing Los Angeles today. Even in the shade, there was no truce. Despite the unbearable heat, I didn't want to miss a beautiful day locked inside the house, so I decided to accompany my best friend in a photoshoot today.

We parked in front of a one floor house, in fact, it looked more like a shed with a very simple appearance. We entered through the next door, avoiding the reception. As soon as we enter, I see a huge space with several colorful panels scattered, in addition to other objects of scenery and lighting.

When Noah closes the door, a round of applause begins, who are applauding? I see a team of about twenty people lined up and among them, the only one I recognize is Kyleen, who wore a belt with several makeup brushes.

Without understanding, I start to applaud everyone, including the twins. Is it their birthday? Everyone is staring at us, so I approach Leah slowly.

“Who are we applauding?” I ask confused.

“You, duh!” she smile.

I look at everyone, confused. Why are you applauding me? My cheeks start to heat up and I don't know what to do.

In a few seconds, the noise stops and I feel compelled to say something. I get closer to the team, noticing the smile that everyone had on their faces.

“Uh, I don't even know what to say. Everyone should already know about amnesia, however, I would like to say that regardless of my memory, I am very grateful to all of you for all the assistance. If I really am that amazing model that I've been seeing, it's definitely due to you. Thank you so much, for everything and for now, for this reception and all the affection.” I bow a little, ending this speech project, awkwardly.

One by one, everyone comes to hug me. It is so strange. I, the ‘invisible’, not popular, who always stayed in my corner, had become a famous model. Today several people wanted to meet me, say hello or just say ‘hi’. It is strange, but it is good.

After all the reception, I follow Leah and Kyleen into the dressing room, watching my friend prepare for another photoshoot while Noah heads for a meeting.

Because of my condition, all the rehearsals and campaigns that I would do were passed on to Leah, so this month she had a very busy schedule. I make a face when I watch her trying to get into a rubber-like jumpsuit. Her hair was well armed and her makeup was loaded, her eyes were full of gloss. And I like this?

“You are very lucky that I love you and you are in this condition. Because I hate these revolutionary photoshoots.” she snorts, trying to go to the table and put on the huge pearl earrings.

“And I like?” I still question without accepting.

“No, but you always do. God knows why.” she stands upright, taking a little walk, looking at herself in the mirror. “Shit, the panties are on my ass.” she complains, leaving the dressing room and trying to get her panties out of the way.

“My God, Leah!” Kyleen scolds, trying not to laugh.

In the studio, I sit next to Kiki, who between one photo and another was going to touch up Leah's makeup. I am amazed to see my friend shine through the flashes. She makes it look so easy, stopping in several different poses, staring at the camera without laughing, with those big models faces.

“She is amazing.” I comment with the owner of the colored hair beside me, who agrees with me.

After several photos, again I go to the dressing room watching my friend now exchange the jumpsuit for a loose dress. As soon as the new makeup was done, Kiki stops behind me, pasting her face to mine.

“What do you think about doing makeup?” the sparkle in her eyes and Leah's smile in the chair next to me, show me how much they want it.

“Promise you won't make that eye full of gloss?” I ask smiling weakly, noticing the brightness in her eyes grow as she promises.

I lay my head on the back and close my eyes at the command of my friend. The whole process is fast and Kyleen does a very light and simple makeup, just hiding some scratches that I still have on my face and neck. In the eyes, a pink tone makes only the contrast deepening my concave and a beautiful eyeliner, which I would never be able to do.

Taking advantage of the fact that I was still in her hands, Kiki takes advantage and braids the top of my head, leaving the rest loose, making me feel like a princess.

“You are amazing.” I compliment her, giving a long kiss on her cheek in thanks.

I hold her hand, heading back to the studio to follow the rest of Leah's photos.

“So, Marnie, what do you think of some pictures?” Brandon, the photographer, comes towards me. I look at him, scared and saying nothing.

I seek help from my friends and even from other people on the team, but no one helps me. In fact, everyone motivates me.

“I don't know, I'm not dressed up and I'm all hurt yet.” I try to hold on to excuses.

“It does not need to be tidy and we will not publish anything, it is just for you to see yourself and maybe adapt again.” he offers the idea.

I face everyone again, not finding help. I close my eyes, giving up. I reach out to Brandon who lets out a loud celebration and takes me over to the square box Leah used to occupy.

Brandon guides me through the poses and looks. I feel my cheeks warm and I'm sure I'm looking like a tomato. I try to release myself with each photo and command they give me, even release a song to try to relax me, but in the end I start laughing.

In the back of my mind, I hear Ashton's voice, giving Brandon one of my orders as "more cheeky", "more mysterious" and even snarling, which only disturbs me. As I walk my eyes through the lights and camera, in my mind another memory comes back.

I can see Ashton sitting on the chairs with Kyleen, "trying" to help me. I just watched Brandon waiting for him to tell the Australian boy to shut up, but he just smiled. I continue my hard work of ignoring my friend, but it comes to a point where he is snarling and scratching the air, which breaks my concentration and makes me laugh.

I end up smiling with the memory still running through my head. In the end, the photos were beautiful, mostly I left laughing, a spontaneous and contagious laugh. My laughter closes when I see Luke's tall figure enter the studio.

I hold my breath with each step he takes, approaching us. He pulls up his sunglasses, showing his pale blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks while getting stuffed with Cheetos.

“I came to pick up Marnie.” he turns to me, giving a closed smile. I widen and run my eyes over to my friends, not knowing what to do.

“Me?” I question after a bug time.

“Ah yes! Your mother called me saying she was stuck at work. She wanted to know if there would be any problems if I took you to the doctor. I said no.” he shrugs.

Once again, I look back at Leah and Kiki, who are just as stuck as I am. Before I open my mouth, Luke's focus turns to the screen next to me, looking at the pictures I just took. I watch your eyes smile.

“They were beautiful.” I smile to him, when he looks back at me.

“Thanks.” I let out the air again. “Well, if I don't get in the way, that's fine. We can go.” Kyleen brings my bag, handing it to Luke. I say goodbye to everyone, I thank Brandon for the photos and slowly leave with him.

I hold my breath again when he closes the door next to me. What am I doing? Getting stuck in a car with Luke days after we broke up? What's my problem? I embrace my broken arm, closing myself.

The drive way to the hospital couldn't have been worse, or whatever. We were quiet all the time. In fact, I stayed. Luke even tried to pull something up, but I couldn't follow, I just crashed. When we arrived, I almost jumped out of the car and followed as fast as I could inside, leaving him almost alone.

What am I doing? What am I doing?

I notice from the corner of my eye, he is approaching while I check in.

“Are you okay?” I look confused at him when we sit down. “The doctor, are you feeling well?” he points to my leg and arm.

“Ah yes! He asked me to come back just to confirm.” I smile to ease my behavior so far. “I just hope he doesn't order a blood test.” I whisper, already feeling a cold wave run down my spine.

My body freezes even more when I see Luke's hand cover mine and give it a little squeeze. I open my eyes wide and Luke realizes by quickly letting go of my hand, apologizing.

“You have been facing a tsunami of confusion and you are doing well, a needle is nothing close to this.” he jokes in an attempt to relax me and break the strange climate.

“ I'd much rather have my amnesia and all that mess than the damn needle.” out of the corner of my eye I notice Luke trying not to laugh and I end up smiling. I take a deep breath, grabbing his hand, as I look across the hall, falsely interested in the ceiling lighting.

During the fifteen minutes we sat there, he did not let go of my hand. I was rambling about that scene and about us. Not remembering him was killing me. Every day I had at least two to three memories, not to mention the things I read, which leads me to stay with the imagination. However, Luke was still the only person I still couldn't remember and probably the most important.

Even with the diary, videos on social medias and photos. It only sank my hopes of going back. I mean, I know I can let my guard down and try to fall in love with him again, but that alternative is not yet an option and it scares me because it has no attraction.

“May I ask you a question?” I begin, in an attempt to break that unbearable silence between us.

“Sure, as many as you want.” Luke answers, super willing.

“What's the nickname? Why does everyone call me M&Ms?” Luke opens a smile, trying not to get a laugh.

“Well, on the serious side of it.” I wrinkle my forehead. Is there a serious side to this? “It's your initials. Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, M - & - M.” it’s strange how good it’s to hear my name in his mouth.

“And the less serious side?” I have my suspicions, but I want to confirm.

“That you know! You are crazy about M&Ms. I remember countless discussions we had and then you forgave me because I gave you M&Ms.” my cheeks heat up in shame. Damn obsession with chocolate.

“That's why I wasn't surprised with that thing that separates them by colors in my kitchen.” Luke gives a laugh.

“I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to buy something so useless.” I look at the blonde, totally offended.

“It is not useless, it is for them to stay organized and none feel bad that I am eating one color more than another.” I defend my point, facing the hallway again. I strange the silence and look at Luke. “What?”

He keeps his lips tightly pressed. He wants to laugh. Your eyes carry an amused glow. Maybe he was just teasing me, because he would know that I would say something like that. After all, he knows me better than anyone.

I ignore him again. Still holding hands, we waited for the doctor to call me. Every second that passes makes me more anxious. I start hitting my leg on the floor and I want to poke my nails, but a hand is caught between his fingers and I don't want to disturb him.

For a few seconds, I look at Luke. His head against the wall and his eyes closed, make me more relaxed to analyze it without shame. I admire his long hair falling in several curls, finding himself with a very short beard, but that looks great on him.

I lower my gaze to a stop on his neck. Did we… already have sex? I look at his chest with more concentration, wondering how many times I must have passed my hands over there. I take a deep breath and risk lowering my gaze. Oh my God, did I already suc…

“Do you want to ask anything more?” I jump in the chair, startling me with his voice. Luke carries a mischievous smile as he looks at me.

Oh my God, he saw me looking at him and at him. Oh my God. Is it possible to die for being more ashamed!?

“No, I'm fine.” I turn my face to him. “I am fine!” I say softly. I hear your little laugh and I want to bury myself on the floor.

For my total bad luck, it takes the doctor a few more minutes to call me. And during this long and endless wait, I decide not to ask Luke any more questions. In fact, I decide not to look him in the face, just in case.

Seriously Marnie, did you let him catch you drooling on him!?

“Do you want me to come with you?” he offers himself, when the doctor finally calls me.

“No! It´s okay. I believe it is quick.”

“Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall, how are we?” the doctor gives a friendly smile.

Bad.

I take a deep breath, ignoring my mind, no matter how much we're here for it. I follow the consultation by answering the questions he asks. According to him, I seem to be reacting very well, which makes him believe that my amnesia is only temporary.

The doctor asks me to sit on the stretcher and look at my foot. The first time I saw my foot, it looked like a baby watermelon of so swollen it was. But in the last few days, it had improved a lot, since I was following the recommendation to always let it rest and on ice a few times.

“Are you still in pain?” he questions looking carefully.

“No. Will I be able to take it out?” I question hopefully.

“I think so! Let's do a test, you can come back without the boot, but if you feel pain or any discomfort, put it on immediately and return here, okay?”

“All right!” Unfortunately I would have to come back with the boot, because I didn't bring another shoe.

“I will order some tests too and as soon as they are ready, you can return for us to analyze.” I quietly watch him take the orders, feeling my stomach churn when I see the word blood. Shit.

I try to distract myself and turn my head to whoever is outside. Luke. I look quickly at the door, as if I can see him through the wood. I let out the air, still not knowing what to do about it.

I wish I could snap my fingers and see everything magically resolve, or just sleep and wake up when everything is in place.

"Would you like to ask something, Miss McGonagall?" the doctor leans on his desk looking at me attentively.

My face heats up and I smile nervously. I don't know if that would be something that my doctor could help me with, but it costs nothing.

“Is it possible to forget someone forever? I mean, I've had memories with basically everyone who lives with me, except one person. Would it be possible for my brain to delete it?” he scratches his chin surprised by my question.

“Well, first of all, do you want to remember this person?” I positively nod. “Do you really want to or try to convince yourself that you want to, but, deep down, you are not ready for that yet?” he raises an eyebrow. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

I want to remember Luke and everything we live in, however, I am also afraid that even with the memories back, things will not be as they were before. I already screwed things up with Luke once, I don't want to screw it up again.

This is too horrible, because he is sweet and I do not believe that I would act like him if the situation was the other way around.

“Miss McGonagall, the brain is still a new field for medicine. It behaves in different ways for the same problem, so everything that involves it is studied and closely monitored. There is nothing to prevent this ‘block’ on a certain person from being created by you. Even if you say out loud that you want to remember, your body knows what you really want, because, even involuntarily, you transmit signals to your brain, maintaining the block.” it makes sense.

“I believe that I am only afraid, as much as I want, fear prevents me.” I say low.

“Can I offer you some advice?” I look at him in surprise, before agreeing. “Talk to that person. Be clear and sincere. Say you are afraid, but despite them, you want to remember everything. Help comes from those we least expect.” again, he gives a sympathetic and compassionate smile.

“Thank you very much, doctor.” I thank before I leave the office.

I approach Luke slowly, who gets up with a smile.

“All very well?”

“Yes, I finally got rid of the boot.”

“And why do you look like that?” he looks at me suspiciously.

“We need to talk.” I announcement tense. I see him frown, confused. “I'm going to need your help with something.”

“Marnie, you're making me worried, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Everything is fine.” I assure him. “It's about amnesia. It's about us.”

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detectivejay-chuckles-halstead · 4 years

Text

Hello Again // Pt 3 // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: You and Jay bond over a mutual understanding while you figure yourself out.

Words: 3708

Warnings: Domestic Violence, PTSD, Anxiety

Pairing: Jay x Reader

A/N: Thank you all for the continued support. It’s hard for me to write this seeing as it hits a little too close to home. But I do it 1) to help me process it and 2) to bring awareness to the struggles of domestic violence. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter.

Part 1 Part 2

The weekend went smooth, Jay having switched out with Kim on Saturday night and Hailey taking over Sunday. You weren't expecting Jay until Monday night, but you'd mentioned having to change forms at Blake's school. Which is why he was waiting outside with a McDonald's bag for both you and Blake.

"Jay!" Blake called out when he saw the man, running to him and giving him a hug.

"Hey, buddy. I got you breakfast," he told the boy, handing him his McDonald's bag. He stood up, opening the backdoor of his truck to let Blake climb in. You relaxed as he shut the door, letting him take you in his arms. "You feeling okay? Heard it was a rough weekend."

"I'm doing okay. Just figuring out next steps. I know I shouldn't but-" He cut you off.

"It's okay to make plans, Y/N. I'd be worried if you weren't. Plus, you're stuck with me all day. Food?" You laughed as you took the bag before he helped you in the truck.

Blake spent the drive in a mix of eating and talking Jay's ear off. It definitely hadn't been a smooth weekend, but Blake seemed to be taking it in strides compared to you. He'd told him about the social worker and the nice doctor at the hospital.

Dr Charles had spoken to you before you'd left that day, suggesting both you and Blake made appointments. You were more than considering it, already figuring out scheduling with his office. It seemed like a good idea. He’d told you that it didn’t seem like Blake really had any severe lasting effects aside from anxiety -- which he assured was a good thing, that it could have been much worse. It still made you feel like a horrible parent. Dr Charles had really stressed the importance of you coming to see him, though. With your anxiety and panic attacks, the lasting physical trauma as well as the emotional. You weren’t going to deny that you were struggling even after just a few days after leaving Jason.

“Can you come in with me?” you asked Jay softly as he neared the school. His response was just reaching over and taking your hand in his own, giving you that silent confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere. You allowed some of the tension to drop out of your shoulders. Already, doing this was going to be a bit easier with Jay next to you.

“You ready, buddy?” Jay asked your son, looking at Blake in the rearview mirror as soon as the truck was in park

“Yeah!” he agreed with a smile, unbuckling his seatbelt. The three of you got out of the car, Jay’s hand brushing yours as you walked. You decided to take a move, albeit a small one, linking your pinky with his. As much as you wanted to see his reaction, you kept looking ahead. If you were being honest, you were scared. But you knew that was okay, feeling his pinky tighten just enough to keep a hold.

The two of you walked Blake to his classroom before going to the front office.

“Hello, Mrs Franklin,” Patricia the office assistant greeted with a smile. “And who do you have with you today?”

“I’m actually here to change Blake’s emergency contact paperwork. Jason and I are splitting,” you informed her. Jay’s hand came to rest on your lower back. “I need to take Jason off the paperwork, as well as remove him as an authorized guardian to take Blake off school property. And I need to add Jay here in his place.”

“Okay, let me grab that paperwork,” she agreed, getting up and walking to the filing cabinet. You were startled when Jay leaned in, mouth next to your ear.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, hand still resting on your back.

“You’re his father, Jay,” you reminded him. “And I know we haven’t talked about how much you want to be involved, but you have as much of the right to be on that paperwork as I do. I wasn’t planning on doing it today, just taking Jason off. But...you were here.” You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips as he nodded in agreement.

“The two of you just need to fill out this paperwork,” Patricia told the two of you, handing over a clipboard.

“I should let you know…” But Jay didn’t let you get it out before he grabbed it from Patricia, looking between you and the paperwork. “I was going to tell you before you grabbed the paperwork,” you sighed.

“You could have told me days ago that his name is Blake Halstead,” he reminded you. It was true, but you were already so scared he was going to run.

“Can we just...do this paperwork?” He nodded, focusing his attention on the paperwork. There really wasn’t anything for you to fill out besides your agreement signature.

“Here you go,” Jay told Patricia, handing her the clipboard. “Could you also do us a favor?” The older woman nodded in agreement. “If Jason shows up here at all, give me a call.” He handed her his card, getting a nod as she slid it in Blake’s file. The two of you walked out of the school, and you couldn’t help but be a bit tense. You weren’t sure how upset Jay was about the revelation. Over the past three years, you’d learned to think that every argument, every disagreement, every silent treatment, every screaming match would turn nuclear. It was ingrained in your head that violence could happen at the drop of a hat.

-----

Things seemed to be going well. The two of you had gotten married less than a month ago; the honeymoon phase of your relationship was still in full effect. Jason seemed to love Blake like he was his own. That was all you could ever ask for, hope for. And he treated you like you were his world.

“What’s this?” he asked you one night as you were laid out on the couch, Blake having already gone to bed. You were engrossed in a book, so you didn’t look up. “I asked you, what is this?” he asked again, grabbing your book and holding up a cocktail napkin.

“Some guy slipped me his number last week. I was gonna throw it away when I did laundry tomorrow,” you answered as you sat up, not sure why he was making a big deal out of it.

“Did you call him?” Jason then followed up with. There was no way he was getting jealous was there? He knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, right?

“Of course not, Jason. I love you. Nobody else,” you assured him, standing up and cupping his cheek. He backed up, balling up the napkin and tossing it on the floor. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“You’re the one with some random guy’s phone number!” he corrected. All you saw in his eyes was rage before you felt the sting on your cheek, tears coming to your eyes. You were too shocked to do anything besides look at the floor where your eyes landed after the impact. If only you’d known then that it was only going to be the first time, not even close to the last.

-----

“You do this thing where you space out,” Jay mentioned, rousing you again, You hadn’t realized you’d leaned your head on the window, staring out at the traffic, too lost in your own thoughts. “Talk to me, please?”

“Dr Charles said the same thing the other day,” you mumbled, continuing to watch the cars go by as he drove. You weren’t sure where you were at or where you were going. The only thing you did know was that you were safe as long as Jay was there. “He said he thinks it’s me disassociating as a coping mechanism.”

“Do you remember when we first met, how much of a mess I was?” You nodded, feeling his hand on yours. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get more of your attention or if it was just a comforting thing for him. He’d always been a touchy kind of guy. “Disassociating is very common in PTSD.”

“I don’t have PTSD, Jay,” you corrected, glancing over at him, seeing him perplexed. You weren’t sure why though, eyes back out the window. “You have a reason to have PTSD, a war you fought in. I don’t.”

“It’s not called Shell Shock anymore for a reason, Y/N. Anybody can get PTSD. You lived -- more or less -- in a hostage situation for the past three years. I may not know exactly what you went through, or those feelings. But I am here for you. I understand the anxiety and the triggers and the flashbacks. Even if you aren’t experiencing them, or if you don’t realize you are. You have somebody here who understands.” You squeezed his hand, the neighborhood beginning to look very familiar.

“Why are we here?” you asked, breath catching in your throat.

Your heart started pounding in your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe? You didn’t feel the truck stop, breaths shallow and fast as you gripped his hand like a vise. You weren’t supposed to be here. Jay had promised...You never had to go back. Never. That’s why you left. Thoughts swirled in your head, not able to pick out just one. You felt his hands on you, felt him turn your head to look at him.

“Y/N, look at me,” he instructed, but it sounded like you were underwater, blood rushing in your ears. “Look at me. Focus on me.” His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you back just enough to focus. Not enough to calm down though. “He’s not here. My team has made sure of it.”

You tried listening, but all you could see was Jason. He was going to be inside. You knew it. He was going to be inside, and he was going to kill you.

“Do you trust me?” Jay then asked. That was a loaded question. Of course you trusted him. It was Jason you didn’t trust. You just nodded, not trusting your voice. “We’re going to go inside. You’re going to pack whatever you need or want to take. And then we’re going to go back to the apartment. Ruzek and Kim are tailing Jason right now. They’ll let me know if he heads this way. You’re safe. I promise. Just breathe with me. You’re safe.”

He began doing a deep breathing exercise which you mimicked the best you could, finally feeling like your chest wasn’t collapsing in on itself. Your heart was still racing. You were still terrified. But Jay knew what he was talking about. Right? The two of you sat there, staring at each other, breathing for another five minutes before he led you inside.

-----

“Jay,” you mumbled as you felt him roughly roll onto his side.

The two of you had been sharing a bed for a month. It wasn’t the first time he’d woken you up, but it was the first time he didn’t wake himself up. His leg brushed against yours as you heard him mumble something before letting out a choked out sob.

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The two of you had gone to bed early for once, falling asleep just holding each other. He’d had a rough day, but didn’t want to talk about it. You couldn’t blame him though. From what little he’d told you, it was obvious that whatever had happened while he was in Afghanistan was...horrible. He’d bunched the pillow up, holding onto it. You could see a look of discomfort on his face. Or maybe it was fear. It was hard to tell while he was asleep.

“Jay,” you said again, a little more forcefully as your hand came down on his shoulder.

His eyes shot open. It was easy to tell he didn’t know he was safe, that he was in your apartment as he reached out to grab your wrist. You quickly pulled away though.

“Jay!” He blinked a few times, tears on his cheeks that you didn’t recognize sooner. “You’re okay,” you assured him as he ran a hand across his face. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he answered as he got up, stretching out his shoulders. You’d seen his scars, knew that he’d been through a lot. He paced the bedroom, but didn’t venture further before joining you in bed again. He leaned into you, your arm draping over his shoulders.

“I know we really don’t know each other that well,” you told him softly, kissing the top of his head. “But I do care about you. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

-----

You thought since you’d gone to Jay, that you would never be back here. But that was a pipe-dream, Jay being the one to drag you back. Your hands were shaking as you unlocked the front door. There was glass shattered on the floor, crunching under your shoes as you walked.

“I don’t want to take much, Jay,” you told him softly, trying to keep it together. “Some of my clothes. Some of Blake’s. His favorite toys. Pictures…” You trailed off as you stared at the dent in the wall in the living room. It felt like you were walking back into your own personal Hell. You couldn’t keep the images from flashing in your mind. Every time he hit you. Every time your blood stained the floor, down on your hands and knees trying to get the stain out before Blake could see. Jay’s hand came down lightly on your lower back, grounding you again.

“You’re safe,” he reassured as you walked into your bedroom, grabbing the suitcase out of the closet. You didn’t pack much, just the essentials. Your favorites. Everything else could be replaced.

“Blake...His baby book is on the top shelf in the closet. There’s also...There’s a shoebox of pictures. Could you…?” Jay nodded, moving that way as you kept packing, filling just the one suitcase. Honestly, you just wanted a fresh start.

You put the suitcase in the hallway, moving to Blake’s room. Jay left the box and book on top of your suitcase, following you. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Just having him there was more than you could ask for. There was a second suitcase in the hall closet that you grabbed, taking it with you. You tried to pack as many clothes and toys as you could, focusing mostly on his favorite stuff. Even though you knew it could be replaced, he was nine. Things didn’t make as much sense to him.

“We need to be leaving soon,” Jay said as you were finishing up. You couldn’t help but chew on your bottom lip, nodding in agreement. Jay grabbed the suitcases as you grabbed the pictures.

“Wait,” you told him. You walked back into the dining room, slipping your wedding ring off and putting it on the table before following Jay out to the truck. Once you were situated, on the way back to the apartment, you looked at him. “Thank you.”

“It was Hailey’s idea. I was just the personal bodyguard.” That got you to laugh. “I missed your laugh. Your smile,” he admitted a little softer, turning his attention back to the road.

“You know, we really haven’t just talked,” you mentioned. “When we get back, can we just talk? Catch up? Like old friends?”

“Of course.”

-----

The two of you were on the couch, your feet propped up on his lap as he flipped through Blake’s baby book. You’d been home for a few hours, still having a ways to go until Blake needed to be picked up. It was only natural that the conversation gravitated towards your son.

“He was a cute baby,” Jay said, enamored by the pictures. “He’s still a cute kid, but…”

“But you missed out on him being a baby. You’re allowed to be upset,” you reminded him with a sigh, knowing you were the reason he missed out. “I want to tell Blake today.”

“Tell him? That I’m his dad?” Jay asked, apparently needing further explanation as to what you were saying.

“Yes, Jay. That you’re his dad. Just...with everything with Jason. And with you wanting to be in his life. I don’t need him any more confused than he needs to be. I don’t want him thinking that you’re just one of his Mom’s friends who spends time with him. He deserves to know you. And you deserve to know your son,” you explained.

This was the chance for Blake to have at least one stable parent in his life. Even if it wasn’t you. And that was okay, because you could do this for him. All you ever wanted was to be the best mom you could be. Jay nodded in agreement, putting the book to the side before looking at you with a serious look.

“I don’t like that look, Jay,” you told him, getting him to crack a smile which made you feel better.

“I want to talk about what happened in the truck.” You just shook your head, sitting up and planting your feet on the ground. “It’s hard. I know. But you really need to talk about these things.”

“Like how you talked about it?”

-----

Jay seemed to be enjoying your company. But it seemed like he enjoyed working as the bouncer even more. A group of guys that you recognized as semi-regulars had been getting rowdy. You’d told them to either cool it or to leave, which they did neither. Why would they? They were having a good time.

“Jay, can you handle them please?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before going back to serving the patrons who weren’t hammered. He nodded, heading towards the group. You could vaguely make out what he was saying, not paying any attention. Until glass broke and fists were flying.

“Think you’re such a tough guy, huh?” one of the larger men spat at Jay, throwing another punch. You grabbed the phone, calling 911 as you yelled at them to get out of your bar. He and Jay continued to scuffle until the cops got there, putting them both in cuffs.

“Hey, no!” you told them, walking over before they had the chance to get Jay out to the patrol car. “This one’s my bouncer. He didn’t do anything wrong?” The cop asked a few questions before undoing Jay’s cuffs.

You let your bartender continue the night as you helped Jay upstairs, the man wincing with each step. You could see the beginnings of a black eye, an obvious busted lip and a cut along his cheekbone and eyebrow. What worried you was how he protectively crossed his arm over his chest, not sure if it was his arm bothering him or his ribs.

“What were you thinking, Jay?” you asked as you sat him down on the couch, going to get the first aid kit. When you came back in, he’d lit a cigarette. “You can have one later.” He grumbled but let you help him out of his shirt.

“I could have taken him,” he assured, but you just shook your head as you cleaned up his cuts, trying to figure out if he needed stitches or not.

“He was kicking your ass, babe. I kinda like you in one piece.”

-----

“I’m the first to admit that I didn’t handle my PTSD very well back then. But I was just trying to get a handle on it. I wished I had somebody there who understood what I went through, who understood what it was like to struggle like I was. I love you, but back then…” He shook his head. “Back then, you were my distraction from it all. You let me just push it down. And in the end, I ended up breaking. I don’t want you to get to that point. So please? Talk to me?” You knew his intentions were good.

“I wasn’t expecting you to take me there today, Jay. You’d promised me that I never had to go back, and then you just threw it on me,” you admitted. “And I was terrified. It didn’t matter how much you tried telling me that he wasn’t there, I was sure he was.”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you before-hand, made sure you were okay with the plan. But we had a small window of opportunity today.” You nodded.

“All those times you catch me disassociating...I’m lost in memories. They were always my escape with Jason, just retreating into my own mind. The good. The bad…I don’t want to say it helps me process, because I’m not. It…”

“I get it,” he assured, cutting you off, ensuring you knew you didn’t have to explain. “In Afghanistan...and afterward, I did the same thing. I’d think of my brother, my mom, my friends. I’d think of Chicago. Home. Because then my mind was focusing on something else. Anything else.”

“I’m broken, Jay,” you admitted, not sure if you had it in you to cry anymore. You’d done so much crying over the past three days, not sure if you had any tears left. “He broke me.” Jay didn’t say anything, pulling you to his chest as you clutched his shirt.

“You’re not broken,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head as he leaned back on the couch, bringing you with him.

“No. I am,” you insisted, feeling his hands rub along your back gently. “Nobody will...Nobody will see me the same way. Nobody will love me like this.”

“You’re not broken,” he told you again, holding you a little tighter. “You’re the same amazing person I met ten years ago. You’re a little lost and scared. But you are far from broken.” The two of you sat in silence a little longer before he spoke again. “I still love you.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #fanfiction #tw domestic abuse

174 notes · View notes

mysticm3ss · 4 years

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Could u pls write headcanons/a fanfic about RFA+(V & Saeran if u want to) getting MC pregnant but MC tries to hide her pregnancy (for any reason) and around 3 months later when her stomach starts to grow RFA find her pregnancy test hidden away somewhere and confront her about it. I know u already wrote a headcanon about their kids but I just love any sort of headcanon/fanfic about baby’s and pregnancy’s yknow. Btw I love your requests broski. Your a good writer. Sorry if my English not good lol

sure thing, thank you for requesting and thank you for the compliments! don’t worry your english is perfect!

so i wrote this literally months ago and forgot it was in my drafts, i’m sorry it’s taken so long to get up!! i rly enjoyed proofreading this bc i’m studying developmental psyc at uni right now and it’s lowkey giving me mad baby fever lmao

(leaving out jaehee for this one bc she ain’t out here getting anyone pregnant, like even if she had a penis she’d be too responsible for that to happen unless it was planned anyway let’s b real. also i varied the way the boys found out a bit as well just so things don’t get too repetitive, hope that’s okay!)

Yoosung:

The thing you have to know about Yoosung is that he is very small and has no money, so you can only imagine the stress he’s under~

Jokes aside, when you realise you’re pregnant, your first reaction is panic.

You and your boyfriend are both so young–you’re not even old enough to have graduated college yet, how are you going to take care of a child?

It takes you a solid month or two just to come to terms with the pregnancy yourself.

When you finally think you’re feeling brave enough to bring it up to him, the thought of what his family might think acts as another hindrance–he seemed to have a perfect family, and Yoosung himself had admitted they were somewhat conservative… how would they react to your situation?

While you’re busy still coming to terms with it, however, Yoosung accidentally stumbles upon the pregnancy test you had so cleverly hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

You’d slipped it into a box of toiletries, snugly hidden between the myriad of tampons and pads that it held. When Yoosung accidentally knocked it from the cabinet, he scrambled to tidy up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tucked away the sanitary products.

He froze when he saw the test, mind whirring as he struggled to explain away the white stick in his hand.

There was no explaining away those two pink lines, however, and so that night, he dared to broach the subject with you.

He fiddled nervously with his hands as he sat on your shared bed, eyes looking everywhere except your face when you entered the room.

“Yoosung… is everything okay?”

A shaky breath. “MC… are you… you’d tell me if something big happened, right? Like… like if you got pregnant or something?”

The guilt-ridden look on your face was all the answer he needed.

Your eyes welled up, and Yoosung’s arms were instantly around you, pulling you against him as he squeezed you tight despite his own shock.

“MC, why wouldn’t you tell me? How long?” His words were soft; gentle whispers into your ear as his fingers combed through your hair.

When you explained your worries, Yoosung’s heart instantly melted, and he felt guilty that he’d never realised what you’d been going through the past few months.

“Don’t worry about my family, MC– don’t worry about anything at all. I love you, and I love this baby, and we’re going to be so happy, okay? I’m right here, cutie, I’m right here…”

And though your face was buried in his shirt, Yoosung could still feel your smile.

Zen:

We all know that Zen is super-focussed on his career, and in turn, works long hours with early starts and late finishes.

His busy schedule and blooming career is the first thing to cross your mind as you stare at the two glaring pink lines on your pregnancy test.

How were you going to tell him? How would he react? His career was just beginning to take off… what if he didn’t want children so soon?

How were you supposed to deal with that..?

And so, spiralling into uncertainty, you decide to put off telling him for as long as possible; to enjoy your relationship for what it was now, in case it all fell apart.

As a result of Zen’s schedule, it’s not too gruelling to hide your pregnancy from your boyfriend.

You usually wake up to brutal morning sickness hours after he’s already left for work, and your fluctuating hormones generally only make their presence known while you’re on your own.

Regardless, Zen is extremely observant, especially when it comes to his jagiya.

He idly notices that you’ve gained weight, but he’d never bring it up; he honestly doesn’t care, so long as you’re healthy, which you certainly seem to be with how radiant you’ve been the past couple of months.

He does, however, notice that you’re keeping something from him. As to what, he’s not sure.

Zen trusts you wholly and completely, so it doesn’t even cross his mind that you could be hiding anything too big from him (at least, at first).

He figures that maybe you’re just planning a surprise for him, as he’s done a number of times for you in the past few years that the two of you have been dating.

When he comes back early one evening to see that you’re not at home, he sets about making dinner for the two of you and decides to get a head start on the chores.

He knows that he’s slacked off on his household duties lately, and the least he can do is pick up a few now that he has some time at home so that you don’t have to worry about them later.

While your favourite meal is warming on the stove, Zen strips the bed of sheets and gathers your dirty laundry into the hamper.

When he returns with a load of freshly dried clothes, he begins to pack them away. As he folds your underwear and tucks them into the drawer, he notices what seems to be a piece of paper peeking out from beneath the neatly folded fabric.

Confused, he pulls it out, his breath catching as he sees the ultrasound.

He reads your name and the date over and over, unable to even comprehend that you could keep something like this from him.

He’s crushed that you hadn’t told him, and immediately falls into denial.

This has to be a prank, right? MC would never keep something like this from me…

He’s still frozen, sonogram clutched in hand, when you arrive home.

Zen looks up at you, eyes pleading and face soft with vulnerability as he wordlessly begs an explanation.

“…MC?”

His voice is so quiet and broken that it kills you.

You gently explain that it’s real; that this isn’t a tasteless prank but, in fact, reality. Zen takes a deep breath to steel himself.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Don’t you think I’d want to be there, especially for this?” he demands, voice ringing with pain and rising in anger as he holds up the sonogram still crinkled in his fist.

It takes a bit of explaining on your part, but Zen’s hot temper gets the best of him as he shakes his head and turns away from you. Tears prick your eyes.

“Don’t you see, Zen? This is what I was afraid of!” Your voice cracks, and Zen spares a glance back at you, immediately softening as he sees your glistening eyes and the tears beginning to stain your cheeks.

“MC… I love you. I love this baby. I’d never leave, you know that, don’t you, jagi?” His voice is hushed, his heart breaking as he leans in to brush a tear from your face with his thumb.

“You can’t keep things like this from me, princess… not something this big. If you’re worried, talk to me, okay? I’m in this with you. Forever, remember?”

His arms fall around your shoulders as he crushes you to his chest, before pulling away in panic.

“Crap! Was that too tight? Did I hurt the baby?!”

You laugh, and the sound is music to Zen’s ears as you drag him in for another hug.

Jumin:

When you wake up to a sudden wave of nausea, Jumin’s first reaction is concern.

“O-oh, it’s nothing, it must just be something I ate…”

“I see. I must speak with the chef who cooked for us last night, this is a disgusting oversight on his par-”

No Jumin don’t fire the chef ohmygod

You barely manage to calm Jumin down before you’re huddled over the toilet once more, and he lets all remaining traces of fury evaporate as he focusses on holding back your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.

All the while, your mind can’t help but dart back to the pregnancy test that you’d hidden at the bottom of the wastebasket.

You knew you couldn’t keep this a secret from your husband forever; and in your head, you knew that everything would work out just fine. It wasn’t like you couldn’t afford a child, you had more than enough money to provide for them, it was just…

The two of you hadn’t been together for that long; not really. And although that didn’t diminish your love for one another, it didn’t change the fact that Jumin was still just getting used to being emotionally vulnerable and opening himself up to other people.

Would children be too much, too quickly?

He’d never even expressed interest in having children before; he was far too occupied with you and your relationship, enjoying the joys of the present and letting the future bring what it may.

And although you manage to hide your continual morning sickness from him for a little while, you know that as soon as you start to show, you won’t be able to put it off any longer.

When you wake up feeling nauseous yet again, Jumin declares it the final straw.

“MC, you’re clearly ill. I’m phoning a doctor,” he says, voice stern and leaving no room for disagreement. “I should let Assistant Kang know that I won’t be in for work today…”

Your weak protests fall on deaf ears, and barely half an hour later, Jumin is opening the door…

You didn’t realise that “phoning a doctor” entailed bringing in a whole team of specialists in various medical fields.

They check your vitals, and when you hear them begin to murmur about blood tests, you break.

“Jumin, this isn’t necessary!”

“What? Of course it is–they can help, MC. There’s clearly something wrong-”

“Jumin, I’m pregnant!” you snap, the words falling from your lips before you can register their utterance. Jumin’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat as deafening silence falls over the room.

“Excuse us,” he manages, and the team of specialists quickly and awkwardly take their leave.

Honestly, he’s lowkey offended that you kept it from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is stiff and cold, and your heart sinks as you feebly attempt to explain.

“Do you honestly think so low of me? Do you truly not trust me, after everything that we’ve been through?” he asks, voice hard.

That’s when you start to cry.

Damn hormones!

Jumin immediately softens, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… you’re right. I do trust you, I swear, I was just… I was scared,” you finally managed, voice thick with tears.

And though it takes a little while, Jumin understands. And once the shock has faded, the small smile that tugs up the corner of his lips betrays the excitement that your news has brought him.

“We’ll have to start thinking of names, hmm?”

Seven:

You could hardly call the life that Seven led “safe.”

The risks that come with his job hardly provide an environment fit to raise a child, a thought that instantly flashed through your mind the instant you saw the two lines on the pregnancy test.

You swallow hard, hands shaking as you move to rest a hand over your stomach. If you had to guess, you’d wager that you were at least eight weeks along…

God, had Seven ever mentioned even wanting kids before?

But despite your worries, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of delight at the idea of raising children with the man you loved so dearly.

Still, that didn’t mean you knew how to tell him.

Luckily, you had time. Seven had been sent on a mission for the agency only that morning, and he wouldn’t be back for at least a month.

Although the news had been initially devastating, you were half-beginning to consider it somewhat of a blessing in disguise… at least you could figure out how to break it to him now, right? It wasn’t like you could break news like that over the phone, after all.

When Seven does finally arrive home, he wastes no time in sweeping you into his arms and planting tiny kisses all across your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, drinking in your warmth and softness and desperately attempting to atone for all the time with you that he had missed.

After finally pulling away, Seven easily notices that you’ve gained weight–of course, he’d never mention it; you were always beautiful to him.

Regardless, he can’t help but observe that you really do seem to be glowing.

Saeyoung knows you well enough to easily realise that you’re keeping something from him. He sees the nervous twitch of your fingers, the tightness of your smile…

And so, when the two of you cuddle up on the couch later that evening, Seven pressing kisses to your hair and clinging to you like a baby koala, he finally brings it up.

“Sooo… what aren’t you telling me, MC?” he asks, playfully poking your side despite the worry that claws at his chest.

What if they want to break up? Oh god, what if-

He finds himself so lost in his own concerns that when the words finally fall from your lips, it takes him a moment to process them.

“W-what?”

“I’m… I’m pregnant, Sae.”

You hold your breath, and only release it when you see the huge smile stretch over his face, brighter than the sun and just as warm.

And just like that, you know that everything is going to be just fine.

“If it’s a girl, can we name her Elizabeth?” “Seven nO-”

hope you enjoyed, please reblog/comment if you did! ^^

#mystic messenger #mm #jumin han #saeyoung choi #707 #hyun ryu #zen #yoosung kim #mm jumin #mm saeyoung #mm zen #mm yoosung #mysme #mysme zen #mysme jumin #mysme seven #saeyoung choi x reader #mm headcanons #hyun ryu x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years

Text

BTS Reaction || Dysfunctional Family || Maknae line

WARNING: Some things may be triggering to you and if they are I advise you do not read this reaction. WARNINGS INCLUDE: Mention of abandonment, drug use, alcoholism, physical and verbal abuse, death of a family member

Jimin:

“Jimin I can’t come tonight, I want to but I can’t.” You said down the phone as you packed up an overnight bag, you were throwing in a bunch of your mum’s clothes, trying to find a book for her to read and then some bathroom supplies.

“What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me all week.” You stopped in your tracks and looked at the phone, his voice wasn’t coming from the other end anymore he was standing in the bedroom door watching your every move.

“Jimin…I said don’t come round here.” You whispered looking at the state of the house, it was a mess, ever since your mum got admitted into hospital you’d been all over the place trying to keep your sibling going to school and work, as well as cooking, cleaning and trying to get back and forth to the hospital all the time for the check-ups.

“What’s going on? Why are you packing?” You knew you couldn’t avoid the subject anymore so you decided to tell him, you continued packing though, you didn’t have time to sit around.

“Mums been admitted, she’s sick, really sick. The girls are at dance school, the boys are in a football club and I have to get to the hospital in the next hour or I don’t see her.” You said throwing the bag over your back and looking out of the window, the bus you were aiming the catch left.

“Where’s your dad?” You wanted to break down and cry, you turned to look at Jimin and then at the empty drawers, he’d walked out on you as a child, wanting nothing to do with any of you or your siblings, he saw you and avoided you, you began to tear up at the thought of him. He’d seen you many times before but avoided you, you’d never told Jimin about your dad before, scared he would judge you for it.

“He left us when we were kids.” You managed to whisper out to him, feeling guilty that you hadn’t told him any of this before now.

“I’ll give you a ride come on.” He took your hand in his and walked with you out towards the car, you both stayed silent as you walked.

(X)

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He questioned once you were back home, the doctor mentioning that your mum was recovering fast and at a good rate, she should be out by the end of the week but to take it easy.

“I didn’t want you to see us falling apart.” You whispered, finally putting the final load of washing into the machine and going to start cooking, but Jimin stopped you.

“Look, I’ll cook tonight, you go and have a bath or a shower, then we’ll have dinner with your siblings and put them to bed.” You nodded and kissed him on the lips, wondering how you ended up with someone so perfect and kind.

(XXXX)

It had been a few months since the incident, your mum was back to her healthy self, she was working again, your siblings were in better moods because she was home and your relationship with Jimin was stronger than ever, you were all having a meal together at home when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it, it’s probably desert.” You said grabbing your purse from the counter and going over to the front door, you swung it open to reveal your dad standing there with a bag on his shoulder.

“Who is it?” You heard your mum yell, you turned your head to them.

“No one, stay here.” You pushed him down the steps, he stumbled but stayed upright, you shut the front door behind you and kept pushing him until he was out of the gates of your house.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned looking at him, he stared at you, you looked different to when he first left when he left you were a crying mess of a child but now you were a grown woman who could fend for herself.

“I heard your mum was sick.” You scoffed at him and saw his eyes were on your purse, you threw it behind you, it hit the door and it opened, Jimin was standing there.

“I don’t have any money,” You spat at him but his eyes were on Jimin, looking at him as if he was taking his place,

“Who the fuck is that?!” Your dad yelled trying to act like a protective father, you pushed him again and he was finally out of the garden altogether.

“My boyfriend, he’s like a father figure to your kids.” You stated, looking him up and down.

“I’m their father figure, I’m their dad!” You began to laugh a little at him and then looked him in the eye.

“Now you wanna play the father role? Do you want to be their dad now? What? Now all the hard work of raising them is complete? You abandoned us!” You yelled at him and it was his turn to laugh now, Jimin watched as you stood up for yourself.

“It made you stronger didn’t it?!” You wanted to smack him across the face, you wanted to drag him down to the floor and treat him like the good for nothing he was.

“It made me stronger?! I was a kid! I didn’t need to be stronger! I need support!” Your mother had come to the door by now and saw him standing there, bags in his hand.

“Y/N, get back inside, he’s just trying to get a reaction,” You turned your back on him and went back up to the porch, hugging Jimin as you headed inside the house and slammed the door on your father for good.

Taehyung:

Dating with a dysfunctional family wasn’t easy, you would frequently avoid going out on dates, or bringing dates home, you wouldn’t call them or facetime in front of your family just in case anything were to happen while you were on the phone, but you had been together with Taehyung for three years, you avoided taking him home to your parents because your house was a warzone, they were constantly fighting with one another, and you were constantly having to break them apart, you didn’t want to bring your sweet boyfriend into their world, so you didn’t. You kept them as far apart as you possibly could, that was until now,

You woke up at 3 am to your phone buzzing beside your head, you frowned checking the caller ID, it was blocked, you slid it open and pressed it against your ear.

“Hello?” You spoke groggily into the phone, there was a pause on the other end and you frowned.

“Hello, this is Detective Park down at the police department am I speaking to Miss Y/L/N?” You frowned, sitting up in the bed and humming into to phone, you moved away from Taehyung, you’d managed to convince your mum and dad that you were spending the night with a girl-friend from work, it didn’t take much convincing, they believed you were staying with one of the friends they’d met before.

“Yes, what’s this about?” You questioned getting out of the bed and going over to the balcony door, you slid outside and sat on the deck chair that was out there, you didn’t want to wake Tae up and hear this.

“Well we tried to come out and see you, I’m afraid I have some bad news and I’m going to need you to come down to the station,” You felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach,

“I’ll be right there.” He gave you the address and you went back into the bedroom where Tae was still sleeping, you took your jeans and pulled them on, leaving his oversized shirt on and going out of his door and heading down the stairs.

(X)

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N?” You nodded to the female officer and she led you through a series of hallways finally coming to a door, she opened it and inside was a large window, you could see your dad who was handcuffed to a table and covered in blood, the worst possible images coming to your head.

“Is that your father?” You nodded and she sighed looking down at the folder in her hand, you knew what was coming before she even said it.

“At 1:04 am police were called to the scene where they found him and your mother, he was searching around in what we think was your bedroom, screaming out your name and shouting threatening things, he was arrested and taken into custody, paramedics at the scene tried all they could with your mother but she unfortunately-” You drowned out the rest of the words, your eyes wandering over to your dad who was covered in your mothers blood.

“Is there anyone we can call?” You looked at her, tears rolling down your cheeks and you nodded following her out of the room again and towards another seating area, where she sat you down with some tissues.

“I’ll call your boyfriend, will he hear his phone?” You nodded, Tae had you as one of his favourites on his phone so no matter what it would ring instantly.

(X)

“Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted by Tae who was standing in a white shirt and PJ bottoms, he was staring at you when you both heard yelling, you stood up and clutched onto Tae as they brought your father out in handcuffs, still covered in blood, once he spotted you he began hurling insults but you buried your head into the crook of Tae’s neck and he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re okay, I’m right here.” He whispered, handing you some water as you sat down together on the same sofa as before.

“You didn’t tell me he was that bad.” You frowned looking at Tae, you shook your head going to ask what he meant.

“I met your dad two years ago, I’d come by to pick you up for a date because I wanted it to be a surprise and he told me I wasn’t allowed to come near you…I ignored him obviously but…why did you tell me he was this bad?” You wanted to sob into his arms but you knew it wouldn’t solve anything.

“I didn’t think he would kill her Tae…they said he was trying to find me too…to kill me…what if I wasn’t at yours tonight? He would have-” He stopped you midsentence by pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t think about that right now.” He pleaded, to try to calm you down by singing softly into your ear,

“I’ll take you back to my apartment, we can make a plan from there.” You nodded in agreement and he helped you to your feet, taking you towards the exit of the station.

Jungkook:

When you turned up at your boyfriend of one year, Jungkook’s house with a black eye and busted lip at 2 am he was shocked, he took one look at you standing there and moved you inside shutting the door behind him, you’d come to the dorms at 2 am before, sometimes even later but never with a black eye or busted up lip, you moved further into the house and he went to look for a first aid kit, he was the only one of the boys awake because he’d been playing video games all night, you sat down on the sofa and he came over, cleaning up your lip first and handing you some painkillers for the eye, he didn’t want to pressure you into talking but he also wanted to know what happened and who he had to hurt back for hurting the one he loved,

“Stay here.” He whispered going off to his room to get you one of his hoodies and some pants you’d left before, you looked behind you as he walked away and then back at the wall in front of you, you knew you were going to have to explain it to him.

“Y/n?” You heard someone say from beside you, you turned to see Hoseok standing there with a glass of water in his hand looking at you, his eyes instantly going to the black eye and lip.

“Are you-” Jungkook came back into the room and was shaking his head at his Hyung, Hoseok left without another word and Jungkook came down next to you.

“Kookie…I-” You couldn’t finish the sentence, you’d been thinking of it for a long time now and it was the only way out of the place you called home.

“What is it baby?” You looked at him, your eyes welling up from the pain.

“I need to get out of there…Can I come and stay here, it’ll just be until I can find my own place. Kookie if I have to stay there one more night…I’m- I’m scared.” He frowned, you’d never complained about your life at home before so he didn’t think there was a problem.

“Who did this to you?” He questioned going to touch your eye but you flinched away, you’d done that before and it was all starting to make sense, whenever he would make a sudden movement you’d flinch or cover your face as if he was going to shit you.

“The eye was my brother…my lip my dad…dinner wasn’t ready for him when he got in so he -” You didn’t want to remember your dad throwing you against the floor and hitting your head on the oven door, you rubbed your face as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“You can stay here as long as you want, I love you and so do the boys, why didn’t you come to me sooner?” You were about to answer him when he shook his head.

“That’s a dumb question don’t answer that, we’ll go back around tomorrow and get all of your things.” He took hold of your hand and walked you towards his bedroom, where he left you to get changed into his clothes.

(X)

“Is she here?” You heard someone yell the next morning, you sat up in the bed with Jungkook and his bedroom door flew open, your dad was standing there with your brother, both of them red in the face with anger.

“Excuse me, we don’t know you,” Namjoon said coming into the room, you were shaking on the bed while Jungkook stood up, your father came closer and he swatted him away.

“You won’t lay a finger on her.” He ordered, by now the rest of the guys were standing outside the door watching as your brother and dad tried to get you to leave with them. None of them except Hoseok had seen your black eye yet.

“I suggest you leave before I call the police,” Namjoon said, taking charge of the situation, your dad laughed at him and looked at you.

“You told them we did this? What?! Is she sucking all of your dicks? Is my daughter just that good that you all get to dip in.” You gagged at the sound of the words coming from him and Namjoon had enough, he grabbed him by the shirt and Jin grabbed your brother walking them out of the dorms and into the streets,

“Don’t bother coming back home! All your shit is gone!” Your father yelled before the door was slammed in his face, you let out a sob as you fell into Jungkooks arms.

“We’re your family now Y/N, You don’t need them.” He whispered while the other boys all agreed with him.

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4,300-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Torture, Stress/Anxiety

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is it! The big moment! There will be one more chapter after this!

Thank you all so much for the love and support this story has provided. I haven’t gotten this good of a reaction to my writing in awhile and it honestly moved me to tears and motivated me to write more. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy @a-person-unlabled @germansarechill @rentheanonymous @liadamerondjarin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Henry.” Hannibal appeared to be calm despite the fact that a literal serial killer was in his dining room with a loaded pistol.

You on the other hand could barely breathe. It was as if your lungs had shrunk to half their natural size. Although it hurt, you forced yourself to take as close to normal breaths as you could. Panicking wouldn’t help the situation at all. Slowly, your hand found its way to your ring and you were able to focus all of your anxious energy there.

Staying calm was easier with Hannibal here. While you couldn’t take your eyes off of Henry, who was still aiming his pistol at you, hearing and feeling Hannibal’s more placid presence kept you from losing it.

“May I ask why you are pointing a gun at my partner, Henry?” Hannibal monotone but amiable voice spoke.

As much as you wanted to go over the fact that Hannibal had just called you his partner and distinguish which definition of ‘partner’ he meant, your focus was on Henry and trying to figure out how best to handle the situation.

“Let’s call it a precaution, Dr.Lecter.” Henry was looking at Hannibal, but then unsettlingly shifted his sights on you. “Now, (Y/N), I just want to talk.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form words. You had no idea how to handle this situation. Figuring out the small details that a killer leaves behind at a crime scene or profiling a person based on their mannerisms was easy. But doing it in real time while the person in question has a fucking gun aimed at your chest? Where the hell do you even begin?

Hannibal saw your distress through your attempt at a neutral mask. He started to stand up and speak, trying to get the attention off of you long enough for you to figure something out.

“How about we--” Henry very quickly aimed the gun at Hannibal and shouted over him. You jumped in your seat and watched Hannibal’s interaction.

“Sit! Down!” There was obvious annoyance and anger in Henry’s voice.

You tried to look at him as if he wasn’t physically there.

How would you advise an agent to interrogate someone like Henry? What would they have to be careful of? What buttons did he have that could be pushed for their advantage?

Hannibal held up his hands in an effort to show that he meant no harm (yet) as he slowly sat back down. Henry took off a backpack that you only just now realized he was wearing and blindly reached in, keeping his eyes on you and Hannibal. He quickly found what he was looking for and tossed it onto the table in front of you, landing on your plate. The noise of the heavy object hitting the porcelain made you jump again.

“Shut him up.” You took a shaky breath as you looked down to what was thrown at you. A medium sized roll of duct tape had shoved your lemon covered salmon off your plate and left a crack underneath. “Go on, (Y/N)!”

You took a deep breath in, knowing that if you didn’t do this simple thing, one of you was going to be shot. You couldn’t fight the shakiness in your hands that the adrenaline manifested itself as. Lifting up the tape you unwound a piece that was large enough to cover Hannibal’s mouth and please Henry. The screech of the tape made you tense up.

Turning in your seat, you faced Hannibal. His face showed no sign of uncertainty. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw beneath his mask. He was worried, not about himself or the fact that Henry had gotten to the two of you. Instead, he was worried about you.

“It’ll be alright, my love.” Hannibal spoke loud enough for you to hear. His words didn’t completely ease the intensity of the scene, but it did give you some hope. Hope that after all of this, you would be able to hear him call you that more often.

You nod and blink back the beginnings of tears that had wormed their way forward. Being as gentle as you could, you smoothed the tape onto Hannibal’s mouth, rendering him silent until the predator in the room allowed him to speak. You kissed his cheek before settling back down in your seat, you look back at Henry to see him pleased with your work.

“Now,” Henry moved closer to you, now within a couple feet and the gun even closer to your chest than you’d like. “I want to know what you think, Miss Graham.”

Henry poked the gun at your shoulder on the word ‘you,’ causing you to fearfully close your eyes and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You couldn’t see, but Hannibal was watching with a careful gaze and a tensed jaw as Henry invaded your space. You attempted to look composed as you faced Henry.

“About what, Mr.Urik?”

“That’s Dr.Urik to you! And what else would I want to talk about? Me, of course!”

“Why do you want to know what I think about you, Dr.Urik? I’m not a doctor by any means.”

“I know you’re not a doctor. That is precisely why I want to know what you think of me and my work.” Henry lifted his free hand to put pressure on the left side of his head as he painfully closed his eyes. He was visibly getting annoyed that you weren’t giving him what he wanted quick enough, which you assumed was bringing back his headaches.

This is good! Keep thinking like this! Just do what you would do if you were talking to Jack or Hannibal about Henry! Please him for now and maybe you can figure out a way to get out of this shit alive.

You look at Hannibal for reassurance. He nods his head slowly and takes a visibly bigger breath to try and encourage you to do the same. You mirror his movement and find your starting point.

“Well, the first thing I notice is that you’re early.”

“What do you mean?” You could tell that Urik was thrown off by your beginning statement even though he kept his eyes closed and rubbed the side of his head. Hannibal was watching with slight amusement as you tried to knowingly talk with a serial killer face-to-face. His mind worked on a way to disarm Henry and save you from the spotlight while you spoke.

“You’ve been pretty consistent with killing right around every two weeks. You still have a few days before the next two week mark. Which either means that you are getting addicted to the feeling, or your headaches are getting worse.”

At this, Henry’s eyes shot open and he leaned closer to you, pushing the barrel of the gun into your sternum.

“You said you’re not a doctor. So how the fuck--” The pain in your chest now elevated thanks to a literal gun being shoved against it while the unease of this whole show was taking its toll on your lung capacity. But you pushed through and interrupted him, giving him more information that you knew, refusing to give Henry the fear response that he craved and instead tried to go for an ‘understanding’ point of view.

“Dr.Everet was no help to you, so he referred you to Dr.Lecter for therapy after hearing that your medical practice was shut down for what I’m sure was bullshit reasoning, and an eye doctor to see if your headaches were correlated to something like an ocular migraine. But then your eye doctor, Dr.Chasten couldn’t find anything, leaving you deflated as you were then sent to another doctor, Dr.Loriet. He was supposed to find something in your inner ear or sinuses that could explain all of this. He is-- was an ENT specialist after all. You’d think he’d find something, right?”

“Exactly!” Henry pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, finally relieving the physical pressure of the gun off your sternum. “That asshole just ran his tests so he could take my money and then send me to another fucking ‘professional’ and have them do the same thing”

You could tell that your angle of trying to talk to him as an equal was working as Henry settled in a bit comfortably in the chair. The only major hostile game piece was the gun that was still in play.

Hannibal knew what you were doing and was impressed. At this point, you were feeling slightly more confident in what you were saying and how you were saying it. You knew you still had a lot of work to do to maybe have a chance of getting you and Hannibal out of this alive, but it's better than no chance.

“And Dr.Pencalt, he--” You started as calmly as you could but Henry interrupted, sounding like a child who was in trouble and angry about it.

“Was a load of horseshit.” You turned to face Henry more, now sitting side saddle in the chair, a nonverbal trick to let him think that you were really interested in what he had to say. The only downside was that Hannibal was now completely out of your view behind you.

“He was your last hope, wasn’t he?” At that, Henry’s leg started to bounce. Obviously that statement resonated something within him, he spoke louder and more emotional than before.

“Motherfucker was supposed to be the best of the best and finally run the procedures that I’ve been askin’ for since this pain started. A goddamn neurologist. He should have--”

“He did the tests though, right?”

“He took my money, shoved me into machines, poked and prodded me, only to tell me the same shit that all of them were saying.”

“That it's all in your head?” You crossed your legs and leaned forward just slightly, taking on a sort of motherly tone, trying to solicit a softer and non-lethal response from Henry.

Apparently that didn’t work.

Henry slammed his fist on the table, making you jump back in your seat, trying to get some distance away from him. You quickly looked over your shoulder to check on Hannibal. He quietly put a hand on your back for a moment; not only to keep you from falling backwards, but to also provide some comfort. Henry burst out, yelling louder than before, truly upset by your words bringing back memories.

“Well of course it's in my head! They’re called headaches! So there has to be a reason they’re here and kicking my ass! And those bastards don’t want to tell me!” You could see angry tears forming in his eyes.

Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.

You heard movement behind you. It was very quiet, but you heard the fabric of Hannibal’s suit move. You weren’t sure what he was doing and you couldn’t look back to check and bring attention to it. When you look back at Henry’s eyes, you see them shift to Hannibal. Before he could look closer and see any movement, you shifted in your seat to cover Hannibal and try to distract Urik.

“You-You’re using a gun for the first time! Which is different. Now I don’t think you actually plan on using that for both of us. You’re the Virginia Scalpel, not some lowlife gunman. But if you’re going to break your pattern and use that on anyone it would probably be… me. ”

Luckily, with Henry being so emotionally all over the place, he was receptive to the attention you were giving him.

“You’re right. This is new. Brand new actually. It's called a Hardballer! You like it?” He sort of showed it off like a game show babe would show off a prize. The lights in Hannibal’s dining room shined off the stainless steel barrel and absorbed into the dark handle base. You feigned fascination to try and keep Henry happy.

“It's beautiful! I mean, I would like it more if it wasn’t aimed at me, but I guess it's nice given the circumstances.”

Henry made a face and then, much to your surprise, uncocked the gun and put it on the table behind him, far enough away where you nor Hannibal could reach it. You watched him carefully as he leaned closer to you, trying to figure out what he was planning on doing next. He got to a certain point where you had to turn your face away because of how close he was getting. You quickly made eye contact with a very tensed up Hannibal. His eyes looked like those of a wolf: Dark, hungry, and protective.

Hannibal had been somewhere in the middle of being a curious bystander and a possessive guardian. This pig was threatening someone that Hannibal deemed to be his, whether you knew it or not. And that was a dangerous game to play with him.

As quickly as you made eye contact with your love, you were snatched away. Warm and rough fingers tightly gripping your chin, forcing you to look at Urik. When your fear-filled eyes met his, you felt the threatening chill of a scalpel being pressed against your cheek.

“Would you prefer this instead, miss Graham?

At this point, you couldn’t stop a dreadful tear slipping out and racing down your face, only to be met with the blade that was now pressing into your cheek. You felt the tip of the small knife poke through your skin just enough to start minor bleeding. A fear riddled whimper escaped your throat against your will. This kicked Hannibal into gear.

You heard motion behind you as Hannibal reached for the knife that he was using to cut into his salmon just a few moments ago. You braced yourself for whatever Hannibal was planning, expecting something to happen from behind you. Instead, you felt the scalpel drag through your cheek and across the cheekbone, earning you a lengthy gash. Henry had stood up and brought his knife up to point directly at Hannibal’s throat.

“Ah-ah-ah. Hands where I can see them, doctor. You’ll have your turn. Right now, I want to talk more with (Y/N).” You heard the knife drop behind you, Henry then taking the time to swipe away everything in front of Hannibal, leaving him weaponless.

You were now visibly shaking, something you were trying to avoid, knowing it would just fuel Henry. But you were losing hope in your ability to get out of this alive. You couldn’t see it, but Hannibal was furious that he couldn’t do anything to help you without putting your life at risk.

You were looking down, so you didn’t see the scalpel coming back towards your face. You had to stop yourself from jerking as you felt the cool metal under your chin, pushing your face up to look at your killer who stood in front of you now.

“Stand up.” Henry commanded as he turned the surgical knife so now the sharp edge was against the underside of your chin making you stand slowly; afraid that if you went too quick, the scalpel would find its home in your throat.

With the risks being as high as they were now, you followed him until you could figure out another tactic or if Hannibal could somehow find a way to get out. The two of you didn’t go far; only a few steps from the table. Henry turned you around so you now faced Hannibal with your back pressed against Henry’s chest and the knife pushed against your throat. Hannibal could now see the few tears that had fallen and mixed with the blood that was slowly coming from the cut on your cheek. No one could see it in his eyes, but the primal and murderous rage was building inside of him, close to bursting. He just needed a clear path.

“You know, there is a reason as to why I kill the wives so quickly.” Henry spoke in your ear but still loud enough for Hannibal to hear, obviously an intimidation technique.

“Oh really?” Your voice wavered near the end.

“People say that a quick death is considered a mercy, which would mean that life is technically a form of torture. I am saving these partners from a tortuous life created by their husbands.”

“You do realize that Hannibal and I aren’t married, right?” You look at Hannibal and see him tilt his head slightly.

To Henry, it looked like he was just making a movement to show he agreed with you. But you followed his head and his eyes to a point on the floor. When Henry had knocked everything off the table, he had failed to realize that a knife had fallen on the floor a foot and a few feet away from Hannibal. You took a deep breath in and gave a minuscule nod, which Hannibal read perfectly.

We’re getting out of this.

“Yes. But I also realize that there is that connection between you two.” As much as you detested Henry, you had to agree with him on this. There was a connection that you and Hannibal had that the two of you couldn’t ignore anymore. “And that's good enough for me.”

You felt Henry lock his feet in place, preparing to slice open your neck just like how you saw on Mrs.Pencalt. Before you could think too much, you blurted out the first thing that popped into your mind.

“I’m sorry, Henry!” You felt Henry stutter and stop out of confusion.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For making your headache worse.”

Before he could fully process what you had said, you threw your head backward, pounding right into his forehead. Henry dropped his hand from your throat and pressed both of them to his head to try to ease the pain that had now grown exponentially. You pushed through the throbbing pain that radiated across the back of your head and elbowed him in his diaphragm, causing him to lean forward in pain as you launched towards the table.

Henry forced himself to stand straight and try to refocus on you, letting out a string of expletives as he did. You quickly got to the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened. No loud bang. No thud of a body hitting the ground. Nothing.

The gun was empty this whole fucking time.

You froze for a second, but that second cost you this fight. Henry grabbed you by your hair and swiftly crashed your head onto the table, knocking you unconscious.

Before Henry could end your life then and there, Hannibal expertly threw the knife from the floor at Henry, landing it in his left thigh. As he dropped his hold on you and his scalpel, Hannibal quickly stalked up to Henry; a true predator coming in to play with their food before the final kill.

A tight fist meets Henry’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As Henry leans forward in pain, he is met with Hannibal’s knee rushing to Henry’s face, surely breaking his nose. As he is bent down further, Henry reaches into his pocket and finds the syringe he had prepared earlier. He gets a better grasp of it before heaving himself at Hannibal, aiming the needle at his neck.

Hannibal quickly stepped to the side and caught Henry’s hand with the syringe in it. He bent Henry’s arm back until there was a loud pop and a scream of pain, resulting in Henry dropping the tube full of paralyzer into Hannibal's open hand.

Henry felt a new wave of anger as his plan was falling apart.

With this second wind, Henry pulled the knife out of his leg with his uninjured hand and slashed at Hannibal, getting a slice across Hannibal’s hand. The unexpected cut caused Hannibal to recoil and let go of Henry’s wrist, but still managed to kick a heavy foot into the now open wound in Henry’s thigh. Henry faltered, giving Hannibal enough time to take the syringe and stick it into Henry’s neck, emptying the entirety of its contents into his system.

As Henry cried out in pain and involuntarily stumbled backwards, Hannibal walked close to where you were laying on the floor. He knew Henry dropped his scalpel near you. Hannibal was trying to keep his mind calm and focused on “handling” his unwelcome guest, but then his gaze fell on your limp body. Seeing you unconscious and not being able to clearly see if you were alive or not sent him over the edge.

He would come to your side in just a minute. For now, he picked up the knife, ripped the duct tape from his mouth, and let the familiar bloodlust consume him.

Henry was mid-charge, kitchen knife in hand, when Hannibal kicked his leg out straight and knocked Henry on his ass once again. Hannibal sauntered closer as Henry wobbled, trying to get to his feet but finding it progressively harder and harder to get his muscles to move at his command. Nevertheless, Henry kept attacking even though he could almost no longer bend his right leg.

Hannibal could see just how quickly the paralytic was coursing through his victim, obviously some sort of mutated version of the basic drug in order to quicken the effects. He let a devious smirk flash on his face, causing a twitch of fear to soar through Henry’s heart for a second as he tried to lunge at Hannibal, knife aimed and ready to land in the middle of Hannibal’s chest.

Before the kitchen knife could come close to Hannibal’s sternum, he reached and grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly down to his side and pointed away from any potential contact, expecting Henry to drop the knife. Henry screamed but didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. More and more of his body was being inhibited. Hannibal took this opportunity to follow in your footsteps and worsen Henry’s headache more.

The quick but painful clash was enough to disorient Henry. He could barely even try to recover when Hannibal plunged the scalpel into Henry’s shoulder, using all of his force to dig it in further and further until he could feel the metal hit bone.

The kitchen knife dropped next to him as the scalpel went further and further into him. He looked down and chuckled, the effects of the paralytic kicking in.

“There is something ironic about the Virginia Scalpel being killed by his own tools. Don’t you think, Dr.Lecter?”

“I supposed there is. Or perhaps it is like you said, Dr.Urik: Life can be perceived as a form of torture. Yours has been torturous for you and others for long enough.”

“Perfect.” Henry had used the last bit of muscle control he had left to get the last word and let out a pathetic chuckle.

Hannibal could feel Henry’s muscles tensing up and freezing, allowing him to toss Henry against a wall and watch him fall to the floor, unconscious and powerless. He took two quick deep breaths before rushing to your side.

He gently picked up your wrist and searched for a pulse. Once he found one, he let out a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding. He kept a hold of your wrist as he found his phone and dialed Jack Crawford’s number, letting your pulse be a grounding point for him. Hannibal was usually more put together during killings, but the added factor of your life being in danger threw him off his rhythm.

“Dr.Lecter, I don’t have any update for you. I will let you know as soon as I--”

“I’m afraid I have an update for you, Jack. Henry Urik was in my home this evening. He attacked (Y/N) and me.” Hannibal looked away from you for a moment to glance at Urik’s stiff but barely breathing body against the wall. He took a deep breath in, making it sound like a defeated sigh. “Henry fled after I fought with him. He is injured, but he escaped and I do not know where he went.”

“Are you alright?” Jack was now aware of the severity of the situation. Hannibal could hear him moving from wherever he was, preparing to make his way to Hannibal’s home.

“I have some minor injuries. But I’m afraid (Y/N) needs an ambulance. She is unconscious and most likely has a concussion. I’m doing what I can to stabilize her until we can get her to a hospital.” Hannibal reached up on the table and grabbed one of the cloth napkins, using it to clean up and apply some pressure to the slice that Henry had created on your face.

“I’ll be there with a med team and backup soon.” Jack hung up as soon as the last syllable came out. Hannibal put his phone on the table. He then lightly caressed your face, bowing down and kissing your forehead before standing up.

Hannibal stretched his neck and rolled up the sleeves of his now cut and bloodied shirt. It wasn’t the first shirt of his to be ruined by blood, but he wasn’t anticipating this one joining the collection. Looking at the disaster that was his dining room table, he poured himself a glass of wine as he sighs, truly upset that his nice and planned evening with you went so sour. He then slowly turned and made his way to the corpse on the other side of the room.

Hannibal picked up the kitchen knife that had fallen out of Henry’s grasp during the final blow and moved it around in his hand until it was comfy again.

“Now, Dr.Urik,” He squatted down next to Henry, dragging the knife across his stiff cheek as he took a sip of his wine before speaking. “What shall we do with you?”

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter / reader #Under the Knife

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herstoryherlegacy · 3 years

Text

Expect the unexpected

(Trigger warning - lots of throw ups)

This has never really been my motto. Most things in my life have been expected or I’ve had signs pointed out to me that gives me a hint of what lies ahead. I was not expecting to be in the ER tonight. Actually I was just about to put my makeup on and do a lovely couples photoshoot with my husband when I got the call to come to the ER for possible blood clot in my lungs. Let me back up..

I had been healing from my port placement 3 days ago. Yesterday I was texting Juan updates on how I was feeling. I’m extremely thankful he was so diligent on checking in on me. My main concern was the tightness in my chest, pressure where the port is. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt better resting. I had even been doing light housework to stay up and active. Today he checked in again. The chest pressure was better. I could actually take a deep breath with little to no problem. Fast forward to this afternoon. I had went down to my best friend Sam’s salon to get my hair styled for my photoshoot. She’s on the 2nd floor and we took the stairs. My favorite part. I hadn’t exercised since my diagnosis and it’s been killing me. I was so active. Upon reaching the 2nd floor which was not far, I was winded. I text Juan letting him know, and he didn’t respond right away. I sat down, caught my breath, and got my hair done. As soon as I parked at home Juan called. He was consulting his doctor and advised I go in ASAP to an urgent care to be seen. I needed an x-ray, EKG, oxygen levels checked to rule out a possible blood clot in the lungs. Fuck me..

Disappointed to say the least. I walked into my home filled with laughter from my girls and their cousins, everyone gathered at the table for a meal, my in laws were visiting. All I could say was, we have to go to urgent care. I didn’t even kiss my babies goodbye 😕 I said goodbye to them but not thinking I wouldn’t be back tonight didn’t cross my mind. Now I wish I had. I arrived at a local urgent care before closing and the first thing I noticed in the lobby were vases of fake sunflowers. By pure coincidence, I use a sunflower background when I update my stories about my disease. I immediately knew this was God’s way of telling me he was with me and that I would be okay. I went into a room to be evaluated, and guess what kind of shoes the nurse was wearing? I’d never seen these before, but white vans with yellow sunflowers all over. There are no coincidences! However I wasn’t helped and was told to go to the ER.

No one likes to be in the ER, especially not right now. I had labs drawn, and an x-ray which showed proper placement of the port. Luckily Juan was here working and able to be there for my x-ray. He came to see me once more before he left to tell me he was going to communicate with the doctor about my CT and insulin complications. I had mentioned I was waiting for my husband to bring my charger because I was basically on E, and he graciously went to retrieve his charger to give to me. So extremely thankful for that gesture because alone, with no connection to my family in this place, is NOT the business. A charged phone is a precious lifeline so please always keep yours charged! So now..I wait for the CT.

I had been moved all over that ER. First I came to a bed and talked with a nurse. Then another nurse came in demanding she needed the bed. Once I was done I was booted off that bed so fast and into a chair in a hallway. The place was littered with sick people inside and outside rooms. It was so sad and crowded. I do believe I was mixed with both normal sick people and possible covid patients. To say I was nervous is an understatement. Back and forth I went between rooms, chairs, main waiting room, and scans. The longest wait was waiting to have my CT scan. I was in a room with chemo type reclining chairs. This poor girl in front of me was dealing with pain, bad. I felt so sorry for her. She was doing a good job being quiet but her face and body language looked like she was in active labor, though she was not. After watching I assumed she was suffering some sort of abdominal pain. When it was just us two, I didn’t want to make her talk, but I told her that I didn’t know what she was going through but that I was going to cover her in prayer. Her eyes lit up. She said thank you a bunch and I just assured her that I had her taken care of. I prayed with healing words. No matter what situation I’m in, I would never turn down the opportunity to put myself aside and pray for someone else who needed it more. I have failed this test before many times being too shy to pray, but you never know how those simple words of offering someone prayer may help them feel better. I wanted to cry, yeah I was in here for a possible life threatening issue, but I was nowhere as bad off as these people.

So I prayed for her, and eventually it was my turn to go to my CT. I had an IV put in, flushed, and had 3 medications to help me with my scan. One was Benadryl. I was actually glad to have it because I’ll be receiving it in my Pre-chemo cocktail and I wasn’t sure how I would feel on it. Yes it made me woozy immediately, but it was tolerable. Almost enjoyable in the correct setting. Waiting again, and was wheeled over by this super nice guy who eased the stress with good conversation. If you’ve ever done an MRI with contrast..it’s a fucking insane feeling. I laid down, the nurse flushed my IV and added the contrast. She loaded me in and waited a few minutes for it to kick in. I was in the machine for another few minutes and immediately when I was done I felt the warm rush. I’ve previously been warned it makes you feel really warm and almost like you’ve pee’d yourself. Thank god they reminded me because the warm sensation is explosive. It simultaneously felt like hot water was exploding from both my chest outward and my crotch 😂 indeed I clenched my body in case I did pee, but that’s exactly how it felt!!! So odd. Off to wait again for the results. This is where it for torturous. I am SO thankful for my AirPods and this charger. I have a very sensitive trigger to throwing up. Myself, other people, I can’t handle it. I actually did a good job this last week because both my girls got a virus, and I wasn’t second hand nauseous at all, that’s a victory. But in this ER literally 90% of the patients were vomiting 😑 I cranked those air pods to the max to drown out the sound. Closed my eyes. I don’t want what they got. So I’m in the big chair room again, my poor friend comes back in. Still in pain desperate for relief. Then another person, and another until the whole room was filled with us 5 people. 3/5 with vomiting 😕. Poor baby I prayed for got sick first, she was telling a nurse she was getting sick from the pain itself. Then the girl directly next to me. As she was getting her IV meds she started to get sick. It was a constant rush of nurses trying to get those sick bags in time..bless their quickness. I winced and turned to my left as to avoid being there. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I wasn’t in the direct line of someone getting sick. I was miserable. Benadryl still kicking, I tried to nap, but had to keep my eyes open waiting for my name to be called. Eventually the time came, I was put in a draw chair outside the big chair room and my doctor read me the good news! I had my IV’s taken out and asked if they wanted me to go back into the big chair room (I don’t want to hog the draw chair in case someone needed it) and he said sure, just as I stood up the first poor girl started wrenching and I said “you know what I’ll stay here” and with a laugh the nurse walked back to their station and printed my discharge papers. I was R E L I E V E D. I was as calm in this situation as I needed to be, panicking and stressing weren’t going to help me. Easier said than done, to just not stress, but knowing how much trauma your body goes through WHEN you stress, it just wasn’t going to work in my favor. I came home famished, ate my dinner at 11:30pm, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by a small serving of ice cream. Then my blood sugars sky rocketed all night 🙃 eh, not a good thing but I will hopefully have that very taken care of soon. Praise God nothing came out of this, each day has its own surprises, not all good, but also not all bad. The day started well with me sharing that my CT showed no cancer anywhere else in my body. This is EXTREMELY good news, and ended with me in the ER. You just never know how things will play out. So hug your kids, tell them you love them, do something fun. Enjoy the day given, because in a flash it could all be taken away ✌🏻

#cancer #emergency room #sunflowers #godisgood

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 4 years

Text

Title: Final Beat Down

Gif credit @jayhasltud

Requested on wattpad

Hope you all enjoy it

WARNING: ABUSE, ASSAULT, ATTEMPTED RAPE. THREATENING WITH A GUN. TRIGGER WARNING. CAUTION WHEN READING.

He did it again. This time it was one of the worst. Your eye was swollen shut, your ribs were broken. The wheezing told you that. A lung was punctured, probably. He couldn't control himself. You had to get out, just had too. So you went to the only place that you felt safe.

"Y/N, come in". Hank didnt even have to ask why you were there, he just let you in.

"Take off those wet clothes, I'll get you some dry ones". Hank hurried along to his room. You stood in the hall, shivering as you took the wet clothes off. Your body ached with every movement that you made. Biting your lip to stop you from sobbing.

Hank returned with a towel and some clothes. He held up the towel as you got dressed.

"I'll put on some coffee". He sighed as he saw the bruises on your arms and legs. You followed him to the kitchen.

"What was it this time"?

"The same". You whispered as you sat down at the table.

"You need to leave him. You dont deserve what this son of a bitch is doing to you". Hank slammed the kettle down on the stove. He heard you whimper. "Sorry".

"I know. I just can't. I dont know how".

"I'll talk with some people and get you into a womans shelter".

"He'll find me. Then he'll do worse. I may not survive it then".

Hank shook his head as he grabbed two coffee cups and sat them on the table, he pour the coffee into cup. You wrapped your hands around the mug and took in the heat.

"You need to see a doctor".

"No I'm good".

"It wasn't a question. You need to get checked out. I'll call Will". Hank went to the house phone and got on it. You didnt want to drag anyone else into the mix but you were in serious pain. So much pain that you were struggling not to pass out.

Will arrived in a matter of minutes along with Jay. Hank let Will use his bedroom to check you over. It was a painful process. Every touch sent shock waves of pain through your body. Will bandaged you up and gave you some pain meds to help you sleep. Before he even left you were out.

"How is she"? Hank met Will at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well. A few broken ribs, a punctured lung. Busted lip, a fractured eye socket, luckily he didnt damage her eye. She has bruises up and down her legs and arms. Hand prints around her wrist and throat. Mark's on her back that look like it came from a belt. Right now she's lucky it wasn't worse than this. She needs to get out".

"I've told her that many of times".

"This happened more than once"? Will asked shocked.

"Third time this week".

"Hank, get her out or you'll be trying to solve her murder".

"I know who did it but she wouldn't press charges on him. I've tried to get her to".

"Then you have a girl that doesnt want help". Will frowned as he walked past Hank and out the door.

"If you need anything just call". Jay told Hank.

"Yeah. Thanks". Hank shut the door and blew out a breath he was holding. He went to the couch and sat there thinking.. Soon he drifted off to sleep.

The morning came, Hank was up and ready for work. He didnt want to disturb you so he let you sleep in but when he went up to check on you before he went off to work you weren't there. You hand went out the window, he didnt know why. Figure you were scared to face him or to ashamed but he knew where you were and that you'd be seeing him again.

During Hanks shift he tried not to think about you or your situation but you were on his mind. He called you three, four times. You never answered so after work he was going to stop by your place unannounced. Maybe that boyfriend of yours would be there, but he wouldn't do anything in front of Hank. He was to big of a coward to hurt you with Hank around.

"Hey Jay, I'm going to head out early. I have to stop somewhere". Hank told Jay while he put on his jacket. It was still raining out.

"Okay. You need back-up"? Jay already knew where he was headed. Hank might be a mystery to all but when he really cares about someone his guard is down.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine. Just stay by a phone just in case". Hank chuckled as he walked out the back, heading to his car. He left at the right moment.

"You stupid fucking bitch". Your boyfriend threw you into the wall with such force your shoulder dislocated.

"I'm sorry". You whimpered as you moved your arm, cowering in the corner of the kitchen.

"Then you shouldn't make me mad. I do so much for you and you give no thanks. That's what makes me mad". He jerked you up by your shoulders which hurt like a bitch.

"You're going to give me what I want or else". He threatened with a growl.

"You lay another damn finger on her, your brains will splatter this kitchen. Now put her down easy and step away". Hank had his gun pointed at the back of your abusive boyfriends head. Your boyfriend was nervous, the sweat beads rolling down his forehead. He let you down easy and stepped away from you.

Hank bent down to help you up, you hissed as your arm moved. "You okay"?

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just go".

"You're coming with me. Even if you dont press charges. You're leaving".

"She isnt going anywhere. That bitch owes me".

"You open you fucking mouth one more time, I'll put a bullet in it". Hank gripped the trigger on his gun. Just waiting for him to be stupid.

"I'll go with you Hank".

Hank smiled and wrapped his arm around you, leading you out. Then something stupid happened.

"She ain't going to open her legs for you either old man. You can save her all you want". Your ex boyfriend laughed, sticking up his middle finger.

Hank didnt think he quickly turned around and broke his middle finger. Of course he screamed out like a drama queen.

"I told you what would happen if you opened your mouth again, now didnt I"? Hank took the butt of the gun and smashed into your ex's mouth. He screamed in agony. Spitting out a few teeth.

"Thats for opening your mouth". Hank put his gun in his holster. Balled up his fist and punched him square in the nose. Then just released hell on him. Kicking and punching. Stomping on his ribs and his broken finger. You were actually enjoying the sight. You didn't know it would have been this great of a feeling to see someone else have complete control over him, like he did once on you.

"Hank". You quietly spoke getting his attention also you didnt want him to kill him.

"One second". Hank told you. He reached behind him getting his cuffs. "Your under arrest for assault on a police officer". Hank jerk him over to his stomach and put the handcuffs on tightly.

"I didn't do shit". Your ex cried out.

Hank pulled him up by his ear, your ex was covered in blood. Hanks hands were covered.

"Call the station and ask for Jay". Hank asked of you. You nodded and went to your phone. Seeing that Hank called and texted you moments before he arrived. You called the station and Jay didn't ask any questions. He was on his way.

"You okay"? You came over to Hank as Jay loaded up your ex, hitting his head on the door as he was thrown in the back seat.

"Yeah. Let's got to my place and get cleaned up. Your house is a crime scene right now". Hank chuckled as he laid his on your back.

"Thank you for saving me, Hank. I know now I should have left long ago. I was just scared". You tell him as he cleaned your wounds with peroxide.

"Y/N, I know you were scared but you have me. I wouldn't hurt you. I would have done my best to protect you. You deserve much better than him".

"Someone like you".

"Yeah, someone like me".

"It wasnt a question, Hank. You. You have been there for me when I needed help and when I couldn't think straight. I trust you more than anyone. You take better care of me than I do".

"You deserve to be cared for. Y/N, you're an amazing woman and you dont give yourself credit for that".

You smiled wide as you leaned into Hank. The smell of him made you go mad. "I like you Mr. Voight". You licked your lips as you looked down at his.

"I like you too". Hank let out a slow breath and then attached his lips to yours. Tge kiss was deep and soft. From the looks and personality of Hank you thought he'd be rough but no. He was so gently. Looks can be deceiving.

"Will you, you know"? You blushed as he looked into your eyes, waiting for you to say the words.

"Will I"?

"Will you be my first and show me what love really is"? You whispered softly.

"I will never hurt you". Hank picked you up carefully, you wrapped your arms around his waist as he carried you to his room.

Hank laid you gently on the bed, laying beside you, kissing your lips. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and sure that this is what you wanted. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe with him.

As the night progressed, Hank showed you what it was like to be loved by someone that actually cared about you. Not just using you. To love and cherish you. To make you feel wanted and the desire that Hank has for you. Something that you've never felt until you are with Hank.

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