#he did say the nurses told him that Will had been wandering in the hospital

[cvntybal]

Will occasionally visits a woman he trauma bonds with at the hospital during his stay; tells her she's pretty during one of their conversations. Hannibal gives that woman a comb that she can use to brush her hair to make herself look prettier; with which can also form static inside the chamber she's in, causing fire inside that chamber, burning her to the point where she is no longer recognizable. Good work Hannibal, i fucking hate you btw

[lyrefromthesea]

Could I ask for the hashira reaction waking up from anesthesia after needing surgery from a mission? I had seen a video of a guy still dizzy and goofy from the anesthesia after surgery... Like, the guy did not recognize his wife and said, when she touch him, that his wife would get mad seeing a pretty girl touching his chest, he was shocked and flirty after she said SHE was his wife.

Male Hashira x reader - anasthesia

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

when the nurse told you to bring your husband home as soon as possible, you were skeptical. what if he was hurt? did they hope he would be at home when he collapsed so the hospital could say it wasn't their fault?

you scoffed, not leaving until the nurse told you what was going on. you didn't expect to hear that your husband had been tormenting everyone entering his assigned room.

"some sunny day!~" his voice was ringing through the hallway, forcing you to quickly enter and close the door. it would be embarrassing to disturb the other patients, especially when the reason was a singing husband.

"Tengen, tone it down please!" you scolded him, but the man only looked at you with lazy eyes. hoping that he still followed your words, you looked at him with a glimmer of relaxation in your eyes.

only to hear him start again.

"we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when."

you couldn't decide whether the feeling of embarrassment or the charm he possessed in this weird situation took over your mind, but it certainly got your face heating up.

Obanai:

"what.. are you sure..?" the way his heterochromic eyes stared at you in confusion and adoration made you chuckle. he was completely out of it after waking up.

"yes, i'm sure. you're my boyfriend, remember?" he could only stare in utter disbelief, his eyes wandering over your body and then back to your face.

after a minute of silence, he let his head plop against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

"and you're sure this is not a dream..?" he assured himself, opening his eyes to give you a testing glance. when you chuckled and nodded in response, he looked at the ceiling.

"this is the best day of my life.." he mumbled, his eyes falling shut. you laughed into the silence, hearing the man quietly snore.

he was awake a moment later, looking even more confused than before.

"[name].. are you laughing at me..?"

you spend the next five minutes explaining the situation to him. and he fell asleep right after.

Rengoku:

now how did this happen?

you couldn't move closer to your husband without worrying that he drops dead. he looked tired, not in the state to realize what was happening around him, nor could he answer.

yet he still managed to realize your exact location and showed a nonverbal response to it. everytime you came closer his heartbeat would pick up.

it basically skyrocketed when you touched his arm, the machine next to his bed sending out high sounds to signal raising heartbeat.

when you went to find a doctor, telling him exactly what happened, you were met with a laughing face.

"don't worry about it, your husband must be quite excited to see you."

you were dumbfounded by the doctors words. of course the thought of Rengoku growing flustered was cute, but not like this! you couldn't step closer without risking his heartbeat increase tenfold.

the whole story made him feel embarrassed whenever he heard it again.

Sanemi:

"have you ever thought of getting.. babies?" you spit out your drink, looking at him with shock, confusion and embarrassment.

did he really just say that?

"Sanemi, you can't be serious. I'm not able to-" you were quickly interrupted by a hand on yours. he had slid his scarred fingers over, gently placing them on your hands.

"i know, i know.."

thinking he had let go of the topic, you slowly avert your gaze. sitting next to his be had been proven quite difficult. who thought a gentle Sanemi was almost more exhausting than a normal Sanemi? just almost.

"what about adopting little rascals?" he checked, as if not birthing the children yourself made it any better. there were obvious reasons why you wouldn't get a child.

"what is it with you today?"

"..'m sorry, but ya would look so good carrying a small one around." the thought made your face warm up, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

"you should try getting some sleep now." you told him, watching the man groan, but close his eyes. it didn't take him long to fall asleep, softly snoring beside you.

that was just the medicine speaking out of him, he will have forgotten everything once he's awake again. right?

Giyuu:

"so pretty.." Giyuu said, hand still attached to your arm. when you entered the room earlier, he had immediately grabbed it and not let go since.

"love.." he mumbled, a curious hum left your lips. he was behaving different than before, but you wanted to make sure he wouldn't do anything dangerous.

besides, you found his more open side to be quite cute. he was a good lover, but often found himself having problems with wording his feelings. and after he woke up, all of it slipped out, leaving his lips like a river.

"you're so pretty, so smart.." he uttered, taking in a deep breath, "so breathtaking."

your cheeks were starting to heat up, not used to the many compliments you were receiving. "you think so?"

"absolutely, you consume my every thought.."

who knew Giyuu could be such a charmer? you would certainly tease him about it once he was back to normal.

Gyomei:

"Gyomei, I'm coming in.."

your voice was soft, slowly opening the door to his room and stepping inside. he didn't react, not even when you closed the door again, making your way to his bed.

you have never seen the gentle giant quite like this. sure, he was always a kind soul, but there was something more peaceful about him. the turn of his head was slow, acknowledging your presence with a small nod.

"are you feeling okay, i heard they needed to use more than usual.." you worried, he was bigger and taller than most, of course the treatment would be different for him. placing your hand on his cheeky you gently rubbed your thumb against his skin, watching the man close his eyes and lean into your touch.

he looked tired, exhaustion written over his features. with a small hum, you pulled back. "you should rest some more, the doctors said that you need a lot of sleep."

his hand moved to cradle your fingers into his palm, letting himself relax into his bed again. you understood, he wanted you to stay by his side, even while sleeping.

letting your hands stay in his hold, you made yourself comfortable on the chair next to him. this would be a long night, but it would all be worth it.

[mara-xx217]

Man, I’d kill for some Pyramid Head x Male reader content, maybe with some aphrodisiacs affecting the reader. Any chance we could get this? Thank youuuu

I can never say no to more PH lol

Warnings: Aphrodisiacs, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Monster Biology, Size Difference Where it Counts, Tentacle, Rimming, Rough Anal Sex, Creampie

Oh, you fucked up bad. You knew better than to go wandering around Silent Hill alone, yet you did anyway. And at the hospital, no less... You were basically asking for something fucked up to happen to you, and of course it did.

You didn't hear a nurse following you around, nor did you notice when she started to shuffle dangerously close behind you. It was only when you felt a sharp prick in your neck did you realize that you were in danger and by then, it was far too late for you to do anything other than jerk away from the sensation. The nurse held a now empty syringe in her hand, wheezing and violently jerking her head to the side as you scampered away in a blind panic.

Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!

FUCK!!!

Your body heated up the instant you felt that prick, and it only grew worse and worse as you rushed back to the apartment you had taken residence in. By the time you had reached your door, you were a panting, trembling mess with a hard on that was so sensitive you felt like it was being worn down to a stub by merely rubbing against the inside of your underwear.

The moment you crossed the threshold, you collapsed into a heap, gasping as you flopped around on the floor. You at least managed to close the door with a clumsy kick, but doing anything more wasn't even a speck in your mind.

Fuck, it hurts-! Your cock is going to fucking EXPLODE if you don't-!

Ripping your pants and underwear down to your knees did nothing to lessen your pain. The cool air was agony on your throbbing cock. A sob leaves your mouth as you try to wrap your hand around it, screaming and cumming the instant your fingers rub against your soft, feverish skin.

Oh, this is hell...

Cumming felt fucking good, but everything else hurt. It almost burned, hot and aroused, but in a way that you couldn't quell with your hands alone. You were on your knees and curled in on yourself, stroking yourself with a fervor that you haven't experienced since you were a teenager who had figured out just how good jerking off feels for the first time.

It was pouring out of your hand, you had cummed so much. Yet you're still hard... A deep ache in your core told you what you really needed, and you bit your lip and whined as you slid your cum-covered fingers against the soft, puckered skin of your ass and slowly rubbed circles around it as you slowly- agonizingly slow- pushed your fingers inside of your self.

"H-HAAANNGHH-!!!~"

Your eyes are wide as two of your fingers sink to the hilt inside of you with startling ease. You're almost... wet, or at the very least so relaxed that your body acted as though as it has already been prepared for penetration. Was it really an aphrodisiac that was injected into you...? Your eyes narrow and you bite your lip as your cock twitches hard, a feeling somewhere in your perineum causing your eyes to flutter and roll back into your head as you cummed yet again.

This isn't enough... You need to be fucked! Where is he when you need him?! The thought of his massive cock breaking you in half was enough to make you climax without any extra effort on your part. Your hands, pants, shirt and the floor underneath you were all stained and slick with your cum. Tears were streaming down your face as you prayed this would end soon. Wasn't there a thing that if you're hard after a few hours, that you need to seek medical attention...?! You didn't think you were going to die from this but... No, maybe you would...

You groan and whimper as you continue to finger yourself. If something doesn't change and fast, you're going to lose your fucking mind-!

BAM!!!

The sudden slamming open of your door had you screaming in terror and cumming at the same time. You're practially face down, ass up, with your fingers in your ass and more or less presenting yourself to whatever just threw your door open. But really, you knew full well who it was, given the heavy, echoing breathing and the thumping and scraping of a giant weapon being dropped against the wall as heavy footsteps stagger towards your presenting ass.

"Oh my Goooood-! W-Where have you been?! N-NGGHH-!~ I- I can't-! U-UH- GUH-?!~"

The red Pyramid Head creature had taken a liking to you from the moment it watched you stumble around blindly through the fog. He made that apparent when he molded the shape of your guts into the shape of his monstrous cock. Not that you ever dared to complain, of course. You get protection as long as he fucks you whenver and however he wants to, and it's not like you could ever stop him if he wanted to do something and you didn't.

But fuck, you wanted it this time, and you squeaked like a bitch in heat when he picked you up by your hips and folded you in half so you were forced to face your raging erection. Your arms and legs dangled uselessly at your sides, unable to grip onto anything other than your contorted body as your bare ass was lifted up until it was shoved underneath Pyramid Head's large helmet.

"GUH-! B-BREATHE- C-CAN'T-!~ O-OUUUGH!!!~"

You could hardly breathe in the position you were held in, but it hardly mattered when you felt a thick, slimy, tongue-like appendage slap in between the cleft of your slippery ass. Your cum was quite literally coating the entirety of your nethers, and you felt a puff of hot, humid air hit your rear as Pyramid Head shuddered in approval.

"O-OHH-!~ P-PLEASE- PUH-LEASE-!!!~"

Your voice rapidly shifts from a low groan to a high pitched squeal as you feel Pyramid Head's thick, black tongue penetrating your asshole. Every muscle in your body tensed, any air left in your lungs forced out of your gaping mouth as you feel so wonderfully full. Fuck, you already feel it all the way to your stomach...! Another squeak leaves your mouth as he rapidly slides the length of his tongue in and out of your body, his hands twitching on your hips and a low, metallic groan leaving his chest as Pyramid Head feels how slick and loose you already are for him.

"C-CAAAHHHH-!!!~ H-HUUUHHH YEEEAAHH-!!!~ FUCK ME-! FUCK-!!!!~" Your limbs twitch and your chest convulses as your feel Pyramid Head bow his tongue into your prostate, flicking it hard enough to made you cum on the spot. Your ears throbbed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as black specks invaded your vision. A thick, hot rope splattered across your face as a deep set ache pulsates through your genitals. It's enough to make you forget about everything and anything else, and you couldn't even feel him pulling his tongue out of your asshole with a wet squelch and pop, nor that he lowered you enough so the very tips of your toes could reach the ground if you stretched your legs and feet out to their maximum length.

"A-AHHNN-!!~ O-OUUGHH-! URKGH FUSHGUK-!!!"

Spittle flies from your mouth and you flail helplessly as you feel your body slowly being speared onto something thick enough to fucking kill you. Pyramid wasn't going to wait any longer. You were already on the cusp of taking in his massive tip, something almost as large as your fist connected to something almost as long and thick as your forearm. Instinctually, you fought against him, panicking and hyperventilating as you felt the sensitive but stretchy ring of flesh of your anus expand past the limits of what was considered either safe or sane.

"-godohgodohFUCK-! H-HAAAA NNGH- G-GONNADIE'NFUUUUU-!"

You shook your head and wailed as you felt something break. Was it your body or your mind? You genuinely weren't sure. Between the insane pressure splitting you in half and the fact that you are still fucking cumming nonstop, you don't think you'll be normal after this. It's not possible, not after this. You felt like you were dying, yet at the same time, you think that if he stopped, you'd die all the same.

So... Fuck it.

You tried to balance on your toes but your feet just uselessly scrapped against the floor. Your pants were now twisted around your ankles, totally soaked in your own cum. Everything was blurry from your tears and from the cock that seemed to press behind your eyes with every deep thrust it took. Saliva poured out of your mouth freely, staining your shirt and the floor underneath you. Or was that just cum? You floundered your hands around until you grabbed Pyramid Head's wrists, gripping onto them as though your life depended on it as he bent your body at a near ninety-degree angle.

"U-UUUHHNNN-!~ YEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAH-! FUCKING BREAK ME- FUCK ME UP-! U-UGHHH!~"

The incessant aching heat that has blinded you since you were attacked at the hospital melted away as you felt Pyramid forcibly slam you against the base of his cock. Hot, gooey cum fills the deepest part of your gut, your eyes open wide and fluttering as you stared at the distended bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. You felt him pulsing inside of you, your eyes unfocusing as you whine and keen softly to yourself. A pathetic spurt of cum dribbled out of the tip of your pinkish-red dick, it still rock hard but your balls quivering as there just wasn't much of anything left to pump out.

"O-Ohh... Fuck y-yeah, baby... God, I love how you fill me up like a slut- GUH-?!"

Your eyes snap wide as Pyramid Head suddenly resumes his fast, deep thrusts into your now ruined and leaking asshole.

Oh- Oh FUCK-!

You might actually fucking die tonight-!

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @cherrysodalite, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather @horny-3

[sequinsmile-x]

Retreat

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.” 

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @dontemilyyyyme, who inspired this fic with her love of the episode Haunted and that Hotchniss scene we all know and love.

It's been a hot minute since I did an episode fic, and this was fun to write.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None. Might make your heart hurt.

Words: 3.4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The drive back to his apartment is silent. 

Emily had spent weeks driving him around. At first, it had been for follow-up appointments with his doctor and his physical therapist. She’d sit in the waiting room, a case file open in her lap that she was barely able to pay attention to, wishing more than anything that she could sit by his side, that she had the right to be there with him. The first time she drove him anywhere was when she picked him up from the hospital, her smile kind and her chest aching as he finally gave up on insisting he didn’t need a wheelchair to make it to the car. Emily could still remember the look on his face, something she knew was shame painted across his features as a nurse pushed him towards where she was parked by the front entrance, a bag of his things that she’d brought in for him slung over her shoulder. They hadn’t really spoken about it, and he hadn’t fought her help since his initial attempt to insist he could get home from the hospital by himself, so when it came to him coming back to work it seemed like the natural next step that she’d drive him there too. 

Even during that first journey, they’d spoken. Conversations that got easier over time, everything that was unsaid and hanging in the air around them lighter each time he got in her car, their ability to ignore all the almosts and maybes improving each time. 

This was different. 

She was angry at him for putting himself in danger in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to be, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles paperwhite as skin stretched over bone, whilst she desperately tried not to yell at him. All the feelings she’d had for weeks threatening to break free from where she’d buried them. Emotions she refused to name simmering beneath her skin again just like they had when she realised he was missing and found his blood on his living room floor - a vivid bloom she could still see whenever she closed her eyes. 

They’d been dancing on the edge of something more than friends for a while now. They took it in turns leading, pulling the other along until they almost made it to the climax of the dance they’d fallen into, cursed to stop just before by circumstance and interruptions each time. 

It started when he found her after the case with Matthew. She’d been wandering the streets, coldness seeping into her bones, when she heard Aaron’s voice. She was half convinced she was imagining him at first, sure she was in the first stages of hypothermia and her brain was playing tricks on her, and then he was next to her. His hand on her arm, the warmth of his touch through her coat almost as burning as the concern in his eyes. He’d shrugged his coat off, ignoring her instance that he was fine, his kindness falling over her like the snow around them landed on his shoulders. He’d taken her home, put the heater in his car on max, and kept his silence. He’d followed her into her apartment and made her a cup of hot chocolate and something to eat whilst she changed. 

When he tried to leave, his smile kind and as soft as she’d ever seen it, she found herself stopping him before she could think about it, not sure why she wanted him to stay but entirely sure she didn’t want to be alone. She hadn’t told him everything that night, but she’d told him that Matthew had helped her when no one else had, and that she wished she’d been able to do the same for him. He told her that she had helped him, that she’d got him the justice he deserved, and when she looked up from the soup he’d warmed up for her, soup she wasn’t even aware she had in her fridge, the way he was smiling at her made her stomach flip. 

It didn’t take long for her to return the favour. Foyet had appeared in their lives when she was still recovering from Matthew’s loss, and she’d been able to focus on Aaron instead. She watched as he struggled with how everything with Foyet happened, and when she showed up at his door, takeout and alcohol in hand, he told her about the deal he refused to take. How he immediately worried he’d made the wrong decision. She told him in no uncertain terms that he’d made the right call, that he wouldn’t be him if he had taken the deal, and she knew it had comforted him. 

They’d become each other’s confidants. A friendship that was quickly turning into more, a mutual attraction right there between them - a third partner in their friendship that was getting harder to ignore. 

After the case with the anthrax, she kissed him. Her blood still thrumming with all the what could have beens and a recognition that it could have all been over before she even knew what it was like to kiss him. The moment her lips touched his she worried she’d misread everything, his stillness against her heavy and heart shattering. It took him a second to react, the longest second of her life, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist, his other hand on her cheek as he held her in place. 

If it was up to her, she would have pushed him back onto her couch there and then. Let herself get lost in him and let him do the same with her. But he’d stopped her, his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle but reverent, as he said he wanted to take her on a date first. To talk about where they stood, to know that they were both on the same page. Despite herself, despite the desire for him making her practically vibrate, she’d agreed. Kissed him again, softer this time, as she grumbled he’d better not make her wait too long. 

They’d had to rearrange their date twice. He’d smiled apologetically the second time, his eyes gentle as he pulled her aside, his hand tight around hers as he promised they’d go for dinner when they got back from Canada, a soft kiss pressed against the corner of her mouth, the taste of the promise he’d had to break through no fault of his own still lingering on her lips. 

They hadn’t spoken about it since. Whatever they were about to be, whatever she worried they no longer could be, wasn’t important anymore. Not when he’d been so viciously attacked in his own home. Not when he’d been separated from his son. 

She was grateful that he let her drive him to work and to his appointments. That he let her look after him in the only way she could, her palms always itching to reach out for him, to kiss him in a way she’d only been able to do a handful of times. 

She didn’t want to call it love, even though that’s what she was sure it was, because it felt too soon. Too much.

It felt like it might be the very reason she’d end up with a broken heart. 

When she turns off the engine of her car and opens her door, he tries to argue that she doesn’t have to walk him up, something she shuts down with nothing but a look and a raised eyebrow. She follows him into his apartment and closes the door behind them as he unsets the alarm she’d helped him replace. She presses her lips together when he switches the light on, her attention immediately drawn to the piles of boxes full of what she knows are Foyet’s case files. Everything she can’t feel for him, everything she wants to say but won’t, pools inside her hollow chest, the weight of it almost pulling her under until she hears him speak. 

“You didn’t have to walk me up here you know.” 

She looks over at him and sighs, “I know,” she says, her smile sad and fleeting as their eyes meet. She doesn’t want to leave. Doesn’t want to be alone or for him to be either, so she thinks of something else to say, something that was safe and that wouldn’t bring up everything they’d silently agreed not to talk about. “So do you think Cal’s going to be okay?” 

Aaron sighs and clenches his jaw, his hands in fists at his side to stop himself from reaching out for her at her obvious attempt to keep a conversation going. He wanted her so much, wanted to bask in her comfort, that it felt selfish. Everything had changed when Foyet attacked him except how he felt about her, but he couldn’t drag her into this. Couldn’t pull her into the mess that his life had become and put her in danger. 

He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt because of him. Her blood something he would never be able to wash from his hands. 

“I don’t know,” he says simply, not sure what else he can say, his gaze drifting to the floor between them. 

“He got his answers. Killed the man who haunted him.”

His head snaps up as he looks at her, any pretence that they were talking about anything other than him, than about the two of them, gone as quickly as she’d started it. “Then what else is there?” 

She knows he sees through her, he was one of the few who could, but she doesn’t care. This is the closest they’d come to talking about any of it since he’d been hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop, “The years of torture.” 

The look in her eyes makes him ache, and he turns around for a moment, looks around the apartment he doesn’t feel safe in but feels like he can’t leave, and looks back at her when he gathers himself. “Do you think he’ll get over that?” 

“How could he?” She shrugs, her hands clasped in front of her so she doesn’t reach out for him,    “But at least he doesn’t have to feel like he’s alone anymore.”

“He doesn’t have anyone.” 

Not for the first time, she finds herself considering getting in touch with Clyde. Thinks about breaking years of silence and a promise she’d made herself to put it all behind her in the vague hope that her old boss and friend would be able to help. That his contacts would be able to do more than the FBI could. More than once in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, the other side of her bed achingly empty even though Aaron had never slept there, she’d almost called Clyde. Her thumb lingering over the call button, her focus flicking between the number she didn’t have saved in her phone but knew by heart and her torn-up cuticles. 

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.” 

They fall into silence, the double meaning of everything they’d said so thick in the air around them his nod is barely discernible. As if he didn’t have the strength to push through it all to simply lift his head. She waits for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. She nods and turns to the door, ready to leave, and then he speaks, stopping her in place. 

“Get some sleep.” 

“You too,” she says, reaching for the door, but she stops herself. Unable to carry on. Everything that had been convincing her to give him space ever since he’d been in the hospital no longer making any sense to her. The weight of everything that had and that hadn’t happened between them heavy on her chest as she turns back to look at him, her hand still wrapped around the handle on his front door, “I’ll stay. If you ask me to.” 

The silence that follows her offer is somehow heavier than the last, but she wouldn’t want to take it back even if she could. It’s the most honest she thinks she’s been in a long time, the desire to be near him, even if it wasn’t in the way she wanted to be, stronger than anything else. 

He sucks in a breath and it catches on his ribs, sticks to still fresh scar tissue that would ache if he moved in just the wrong way. He couldn’t deny he wanted her to stay, and he was sure she could read that in his expression, but he couldn’t want it. He’d already lost Jack to his decision, his safety more important than his own desire to have his son near, and he wouldn’t lose her to it too, “Em-”

“I know things have changed, but the way I feel about you hasn’t,” she cuts him off, not sure she wants to hear all the reasons this wasn’t a good idea, not from him. She steps forward, tucking her car keys into her pocket and stops just short of touching him, “And I don’t think the way you feel about me has either.” 

He chokes on a laugh, the thought of how he felt about her changing negatively, as if his feelings could do anything other than grow, almost ridiculous,” “Of course it hasn’t. You’re…of course it hasn’t,” he sobers, his shoulders slumping slightly as he steps towards her, the space between them now non-existent. His hand twitches as his side, and it takes everything in his power to not tuck her hair behind her ear, “I can’t put you in danger.” 

Their embargo on not touching each other comes to a quiet end as she reaches out for him and links their fingers together, her palm pressed against his, his skin just as warm as she remembered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” she tilts her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her eyes meet his. “I want to be here for you. I want you.” 

“I want you too.”

His admission escapes before he means it to, something he can’t hold back anymore. Weeks of having her within arms length, her not subtle but gentle care a comforting blanket he wasn’t sure he could have lived without. She smiles at him and leans in, stamping her lips against his cheek, his breath caught between them as she pulls back, her smile soft with a teasing edge to it. 

“You have to ask me,” she says softly, needing to hear from him that he wanted her to stay, not sure she could cope if she felt like she’d inserted herself into his life when he didn’t want her there. 

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers, taking a moment to breathe her in, “Will you stay?” 

She considers joking. Considers flashing a wry smile as she pretends she can’t, but she knows now isn’t the time. That he needs sincerity and all the care he’ll allow her to give him, “Of course I can,” she kisses his cheek again, “I’ll get my bag from my car.” 

“I’ll come with you.”

She smiles as she pulls back and she nods. She doesn’t tell him that she can do it herself, because she knows this is more about him than her. His silent uncertainty about being alone after a case that had hit a little too close to home. They walk out to her car hand in hand to get her bag, and when they walk back over the threshold of his apartment it feels like everything and nothing has changed since they did the very same thing just a few minutes ago. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hesitant to let go of her hand as he locks the door behind them, the first step towards something new between them finalised when the lock clicks into place. 

She shakes her head, “I’m not. I think I just need to sleep.” 

“Me too,” he says, squeezing her hand, “You can get changed in the bathroom.” 

Emily nods and steps towards the bathroom, smiling when he doesn’t let go of her hand, and she closes the gap between them again. She kisses him properly this time, her lips briefly pressed against his before she pulls back. 

“You can let go of my hand,” she cups his cheek with her spare hand, “I’m not going to change my mind.” The look in his eyes, a kind of vulnerability she’d only seen once before when he first woke up in the hospital, hollows out her chest. It makes words she knows it would too soon for in normal circumstances try and climb up her throat. She swallows them down and strokes his jaw, “I’ll be here for you as long as you need me to be.” 

He nods and squeezes her hand before he lets go, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

She makes quick work of getting changed into her pjyamas - an old Yale t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - and she takes her make-up off, only thinking about the fact this would be the first time he saw her without it once the deed was done. She seeks him out the moment she steps out of the bathroom, finds him in his bedroom dressed in an old Harvard t-shirt and grey sweatpants that make her cheeks feel warm. 

She’d always found him attractive, even when she didn’t like him all that much. Before they started the slow walk to whatever this was, she always wondered if they’d eventually sleep together. She pictured it differently. She thought they’d yell at each other over something and fuck on his desk or in a hotel room somewhere. She never pictured this. The two of them standing a few feet apart in his bedroom, dressed in almost matching pjyamas, ready to sleep next to each other in the literal sense, another small step towards what she thinks might be their forever. 

“You can sleep in Jack’s room if you like,” he offers, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “If you don’t mind Captain America sheets.” 

She shakes her head and steps towards him, linking their fingers together again as she smiles softly, “As much as I’m sure his bed is comfortable,” she says, a smile flickering across her face, “I’m sure yours is comfier.” 

It makes him smile despite everything. The gap in his heart his son had left behind. The worry he had that he’d never get him back. The feeling he couldn’t shift that he was putting Emily in a situation he shouldn’t be. He finds himself wishing he’d let her talk him into going further than just kissing that first night, that he had given himself the chance to know her, to let her know him, before his body was changed beyond his own recognition. 

At least he’d have known then what it was like to love her like he did without the guilt that forever chased it now.

“Left or right?” He asks, and she smiles, her hand squeezing his. 

“Right.” 

They climb into bed, each laying on their respective sides before he makes the first move this time, shifting towards her until their sides touch. She shifts onto her side and moves towards him, his arm hooking around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. There was so much both of them wanted to say and so much that they couldn’t. So they lay there, slowly but surely tangling themselves around each other like vines. Wordlessly wrapping themselves together, a kind of connection rooted in their understanding of each other and what they both wanted next.  

“God, you’re like a furnace,” she says eventually, smiling when he chuckles, the vibration of it passing from his chest to hers as he pulls the covers over them both, “I could get used to this.”  

He kisses the top of her head, and hopes that she understands everything he presses into it. That she feels the love he cannot put into words yet passing from his skin into hers. 

“I could get used to it too.” 

[vampykween]

remind me

because @tomiesdiet is the little angst devil on my shoulder hehe

simon ghost riley x reader

“how am i supposed to live without you? i- i don’t think i can do this…” your sobs cut your words short and you try to speak again but the lump in your throat is slowly suffocating you.

the smell of alcohol and harsh chemicals infiltrate your nose and nauseate you. you’ve always hated the smell of hospitals. always so sterile and lifeless, which you guess is fitting.

you stare out the small window to the room and ponder about the people steadily walking past. could they see in your eyes that very soon your life was going to end? your reason for living would soon cease to exist. or was this just another meaningless day? while your entire world has halted and been spun wildly, there are people experiencing the best days of their lives.

you desperately wish simon could respond to you, squeeze your hand back, smooth your hair and kiss your head like he always does - or how he always did. you were sure you’d never get used to speaking of him in past tense. there was no manual for how to live after simon.

suddenly the room begins to spin and you feel like you’re watching a scene from a tv show as the nurses tell you to say your last goodbye. your stomach clenches so painfully you’re sure you’re going to vomit everywhere. you want to scream at them to stop, to shake them and tell them to save him, but there wasn’t anything they could do that’s what they told you.

-

the drive home feels endless and with all the tears clouding your vision it’s a wonder you make it back safely. simon would get onto you if he knew you were driving so carelessly. except no he wouldn’t. he’s dead. you remind yourself of that. simon riley is dead, gone, no longer living. that was fact.

you’re not sure what to do with yourself as you wander aimlessly throughout the house. every room feels so lifeless now, there’s no sound of a football game on and even though everything looks the same way you left it, it feels emptier.

something bright pink catches the corner of your eye and it’s like there’s a lead weight crushing your lungs. you slowly walk over and pluck the note off the counter ‘don’t forget your lunch. love you xx’ you always had a bad habit of that and simon loved leaving you little reminder notes from time to time. you normally keep them in your nightstand drawer to read when he’s away but now you’re not sure if you’ll ever have the heart to look at them again.

the notes crumples in your hand as you fall to your knees and let out a visceral scream. the force of your cries wracking your body and leave you heaving and shaking. simon riley was gone and all those notes were all you had left of him.

[spooky-pomegranate]

Price, What's Wrong?

Captain Price x Gn Reader Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Price struggles to deal with his emotions after your first mission with the 141 goes terribly wrong.

You stood outside the operating room in a brightly lit hallway and stared down at a small crack in the floor. You had been pacing over the same five-foot square of tiles for over two hours now. If someone had given you a blindfold, a pen, and a piece of paper you were confident that by now you’d be able to draw each tile from memory.

The doctors and nurses had tried to convince you and Price to wait in the visitors' lounge. They had told you that Soap’s surgeries would take a few hours and that you’d both be more comfortable waiting there. But Price didn’t care about comfort. He had demanded, and pretty adamantly so, that you both be allowed to stay as close to Johnny as possible. At least until he was awake again. But Price’s demands hadn’t gone over well and things had gotten heated rather quickly. Security had been called to forcibly remove you both from the hall, but a phone call from Laswell had righted the situation before it went too far south. Or at least that was your best guess. You had seen Price wave his cell phone in the air and yell something about “national security” and “highest clearance.” But you weren’t entirely sure what had been said beyond that because ever since getting to the hospital Price hadn’t spoken a word to you.

For two hours he had kept his distance, circling on one end of the hall while you circled the other. Occasionally you would pull your eyes up from the floor and catch a glimpse of him. Even from a distance, he looked more tense than you had ever seen him. His shoulders were ridged, pulled back in a taught line, and his fists were clenched by his side. You caught him rubbing his temples more than once and you wondered if he had a headache. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

Physically Price looked like he’d crawled out of the pits of hell. He was caked in dirt, grime, and blood. There were small cuts on both of his cheeks and one long gash above his left eyebrow. He was limping ever so slightly on his right leg and a fresh bandage wrapped his right shoulder in a thick layer of white gauze. After the incident with security, a nurse had bandaged Price’s injured shoulder. Although he’d been more than a little reluctant to let her. It wasn’t until the nurse had pointed out how unsanitary it was that he had been dripping blood all over the hallway that Price had eventually agreed to let her bandage him.

The entire time the nurse's hands had been on Price you had stared at him, watching his face. He had been completely stoic. There hadn’t been a single glint of pain or discomfort. Just a hardline expression that looked like it had been chiseled into his features. But then for a moment, when the nurse dug a little deeper into his open wound Price’s eyes had met yours and something in them flickered. You had thought that maybe he was going to break the silence and say something to you. That maybe he was going to call you to him. But then just as quickly as your eyes had met he had looked away and you were left alone again to wander your end of the hall with only your thoughts to keep you company.

But then two hours later your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You turned and saw Price walking towards you. His eyes met yours before he turned and leaned against the wall, his head tilting backward and resting against the wall while his eyes closed. You took a step towards him, concerned, but before you could get close he held up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just…give me a minute.”

You nodded, though you weren't sure if Price could see you.

"Are you okay?" you asked quietly.

"I'll be fine," he replied, his eyes still closed. “I… I’m sorry,” he began again, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“You don’t have anything to apolo-”

“No,” Price snapped and his eyes shot open.

“Price, it’s not your-”

“Don’t!” he interrupted, turning to face you completely. “Don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that. You don’t know what you're talking about. You have no idea and I…I can’t…”

Price’s words hit you like a brick, punching straight through your chest with an unexpected force. He’d never spoken to you like this before. With so much anger. So much rage. Then, before you could do or say anything, Price raised his hand in your direction. You reacted quickly, taking an uneasy step backward and nearly tripping over your own feet. Without thinking you raised your hands to your head and braced yourself for a blow.

But it never came.

“I… Love, I would never… that’s not…” Price’s voice was so quiet you barely heard him. He immediately dropped his hand. His anger deflated in an instant, replaced by a profound sorrow that etched deep lines on his dirt-streaked face. He took a shaky step toward you and timidly raised his hand again. You closed your eyes, this time without an ounce of fear.

You expected to feel Price’s calloused palm against your cheek or his fingers tangle into your hair massaging your scalp. You expected him to comfort you like he had done so many times… but again Price’s touch never came. Instead, you heard a soft thud and you opened your eyes. Price slumped against the wall.

"Please," he whispered, his voice laced with remorse. "Please listen to me. I didn't mean… I didn't mean to scare you. I could never hurt you."

———————————————————————

“I could never hurt you."

Price lied.

He knew that wasn’t true.

How could that possibly be true when the strongest men Price knew, the men that were under his care and his protection, were all in this very hospital broken and battered worse than he’d ever seen them.

Gaz had taken a bullet to the leg and was lucky that he hadn’t bled out on the drive to the hospital. Ghost wasn’t any better. He had suffered several broken ribs and a punctured lung. Although Price was surprised his injuries hadn't been any worse. He’d look like death when Price had found him in the hangar. Ghost had been pinned underneath heavy rubble after the last remaining enemy soldier had detonated a block of C4 in a suicidal attempt to take him out. The blast had been so large that it had blown up half the hangar in a fireball. And Soap… fucking Soap. So much of Johnny’s blood had seeped into Price’s gloves that he’d ditched them in the crumbled hangar while trying to free Ghost from the rubble.

Things had never gone this bad before. Never with the 141. Never with his own. His team. His brothers.

Suddenly Price felt hot and the lights became so bright that he could barely keep his eyes open. Price stumbled forward as his legs became weak beneath him. He reached back to steady himself against the wall, but it offered no support. Everything around him was spinning, the world tilting on its axis. He blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision, but it only intensified the throbbing pain in his head.

Then a hand grabbed his arm and pulled Price away from the wall and onto a nearby chair. He looked up and saw you, concern and worry etched across your pretty face. You looked so scared. It only made the pain worse.

"Price, what's wrong?" you asked.

What’s wrong?

Everything.

Everything’s wrong.

Price was supposed to be a leader, the one who made the tough decisions and protected his team. He was supposed to be your love, your rock, your defender. All he had wanted to do was punch a hole in that stupid plaster wall, but he’d scared you half to death. He’d been so angry with himself at his failures that you’d expected his wrath to spill onto you. And now he couldn't help but feel like he had let everyone down. The weight of his failures bore down on him, each one a heavy burden that threatened to crush him. How had it come to this? How had he let things spiral out of control?

But the worst question of all was the one that hurt him the most. How was he going to keep you safe when he couldn't even keep his men safe?

The room seemed to close in around Price as he struggled to catch his breath. He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath his palm. His breathing grew shallow and erratic. Each inhale felt like tiny shards of glass scraping against his lungs. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the grime and blood that stained his face. His vision turned fuzzy.

Price knew he was having a panic attack. He’d been taught the signs…he’d read the pamphlets on mental health and sat attentively in all the required lectures. But he’d never actually had one and now he couldn’t remember what to do. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. How to live.

He watched through the haze as you knelt in front of him. Your hands gripped his shoulders with a firmness that sent cool shivers down his spine.

"Price, listen to me," you said, your eyes locking with his. "Breathe. Take deep breaths with me, okay? In through your nose...and out through your mouth. In...and out..."

Price followed your lead, inhaling the crisp hospital air and exhaling all the tension and fear that held him hostage. Gradually, his racing heart started to slow and the suffocating weight on his chest eased bit by bit. Inch by inch.

"That's it," you murmured. “There you go, baby. Just like that.”

Price focused on the sound of your voice and on the sweet things you called him.

Baby.

Sweetheart.

Love.

Each endearment was a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge and he followed you to the light. Price closed his eyes as your hands slipped down his shoulders and ran over his biceps and forearms until your fingers slid in between his own. They fit so perfectly there, nestled against his skin, warm and soft.

“You’re here for Sergeant MacTavish?”

Price opened his eyes. A male doctor stood just outside the metal doors that separated the hall from the operating room. Price nodded at the tall man, afraid that if he spoke his voice would give out.

The doctor explained the details of Soap’s condition. By some miracle, they had stabilized Johnny. He’d require another round of surgeries in the coming weeks and he’d need months of rehab after that, but if things continued to go well they expected him to make a full recovery. It was a miracle. Truly Price couldn’t think of any other explanation.

“Sergeant MacTacish is asleep at the moment. But the sedation will wear off in a few hours.” the doctor added. “He’ll be groggy but you should be able to speak with him when he wakes. I’ve also arranged for an orderly to move him into an adjoining room beside Sergeant Garrick and Lieutenant Riley.”

Price nodded again, as the doctor turned back toward the operating room.

“Oh… one last thing,” the doctor added turning to look at you and Price over his shoulder. “Tell Laswell that she doesn’t need to threaten my entire nursing staff to get me scheduled for a surgery. I would have come in for this if she had just called my cell.”

Price laughed for the first time in nearly 24 hours. “I’ll let her know. Thanks, doc.”

The doctor disappeared behind the metal doors and Price let out a long and low exhale.

“Come on,” you said, standing up. “Let’s get out of here. I think you need some fresh air.”

Price followed you, hand in hand through the corridors of the hospital until you made your way to a quiet and empty snow-covered courtyard. You led him to a wooden bench under a weeping Higan cherry tree. The cascading and barren branches swayed in the evening breeze and Price stared up at the moon.

“I wish I could know what you’re thinking,” you said, giving his hand that hadn’t left yours a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t think you do.”

You smiled at Price and it broke his resolve. It always did.

“Try me.”

Price looked deep into your eyes and searched for the right words. The truth was heavy, tangled in a web of guilt and despair. He didn’t want to say it.

“I love you. More than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I love you more than I thought was possible. Please… please believe me when I say that.” Price paused. He let go of your hand. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

———————————————————————

You stared at Price, your heart pounding in your chest. The world around came to a standstill. "What do you mean, you can't do this anymore?" you whispered, voice barely audible as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t understand. He couldn’t be talking about you and him together could he? It had to be something else. This didn’t make sense. You loved him and he loved you. He had just said so.

"Price, I don’t understand. What do you mean?"

He stood, leaving you alone on the bench.

“We can’t do this anymore. You and me,” he said pointing to the space in between you. “It’s over. This thing has to be over.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m going to call Laswell and she’s going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere far from here… from me. She’ll put you in a witness protection program and I’ll make sure you go somewhere warm like you wanted. No one will be able to touch you. You’ll be safe. You can start over again and leave all this behind.”

“But I don’t want that. I don’t want to go anywhere. Please. I love you. I want to be here with you,” you sobbed as tears streamed down your face.

“This isn’t a choice.”

“It is a choice,” you insisted, standing up from the bench and stepping closer to him. “You can choose to be with me. We can figure this out together. There’s always hope, right? Isn’t that what you said to me? That there’s always hope, even when things feel impossible. We can do this together,” you pleaded, reaching out to grab his hand but he pulled away. “Price, please look at me.”

Price began walking toward the hospital, “You should say goodbye to Gaz and Ghost. You won’t have a lot of time.”

You sprinted toward him and blocked his path. Price looked down at you. Normally the height difference between you was something you enjoyed. You liked having to stand on your tiptoes to kiss him or wrap your hands around his neck. But now you felt intimidated by his size. He loomed over you and it made you uneasy. His eyes were cold and unrecognizable. The man before you had changed. You wanted your Price back. You wanted the man you loved back.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away? Is this because you don’t think I can do this? It was my first mission and I know I didn’t shoot when Ghost was with me on the water tower. I was just scared. But I fired when he left me. I did Price. I tried. I promise I really tried.” The words came tumbling out of your mouth at a dizzying speed. “And I’m sorry you had to save me again. I’m sorry that I got caught and forced you to save me. But I knew you would. I won’t let that happen ever again though. I promise you. I can do better next time. I will. Please I will do better. Just please don’t send me away. Please don’t do this. I need you.”

———————————————————————

Shit.

Price wished you hadn’t said all that. He wished you hadn’t spewed all your insecurities at him like that. You had opened the door for him and now he was going to push you out.

“You’re never going to be good enough.”

As soon as the words left Price’s mouth he wished he could have taken them back and swallowed them whole.

You began sobbing so hard Price thought you might get sick.

And just like that he’d hurt you again even after promising he wouldn’t. Price didn’t want to, but he had to keep you alive and this was the only way he knew how. He’d failed at everything else. Sending you away was the only thing he could think of. It was his final resort. If he could just put you on the other side of the world and let you start over, without him you’d finally be safe.

And then you could move on. You could start over. You’d done it once already. He knew you could do it again. You’d hurt for a while but it would only be a matter of time before someone else would fall in love with you. You were too beautiful, too smart, and too perfect to be alone for long. And then you could have a normal life. One free from terrorist, blood-shed, and torturous nightmares. You deserved that. A normal life, a better life. He could already see you with a house, a white picket fence, and a family. A real life. A happy life.

And you deserved that. You deserved normal and pretty things. All the things that he couldn’t give to you. He’d been selfish to ever think otherwise. Neither of you had ever talked about the after. About what you’d be to each other after the enemy was finally dealt with… and maybe this was why. As Captain of the 141 Price would always be facing some kind of danger and so would anyone he loved. He never wanted that for you. Maybe you both had avoided talking about your future because this was always how things were going to end.

Maybe this was never going to work.

Maybe this had been doomed from the start.

Tears stained your cheeks and you were shaking. “You don’t mean that,” you whimpered. “I know you don’t mean that.”

Price couldn’t look at you anymore. If he did he would fall apart. Quickly he turned and walked away, opening the doors to the hospital and sprinting through its labyrinth of hallways until he found himself in the parking lot. His chest ached and he felt bile rise through his stomach.

He fell to his knees.

He was going to be sick.

———————————————————————

(Read more from this story on AO3)

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Premature labour mentioned, mention of miscarriage

Chapter Summary: The reader and Ryan arrive and the fluttering in readers chest is nothing right? RIGHT???

Your ass was well and truly numb, and Ryan had possibly napped more than he ever had. You glanced over at him in the passenger seat. Passenger Princess.

Ryan had come into your life at a time you needed him most. You'd left home, quickly after your soul letters had appeared. They weren't your standard letters though. You had two lots of letters on your wrist and to say your family was shocked was an understatement.

Your Dad had immediately branded you a whore and made it clear you weren't welcome in the house anymore. Your siblings, all older and already with homes of their own, either shrugged or pointed out it WAS his house.

A very emotional phone call between you and an old school friend, had led you to pack a case and grab your passport. Days later you were in Spain working the season at a fancy hotel.

You and Ryan had started on the same day. Both of you escaping home. You for apparently being a whore and him for being gay. You were allocated a small one bed apartment to share and a friendship was formed. After an issue with accommodation, and more people joining the season, you were joined by Annemarie, Darcy and Wanda. The snap of being soul friends happened the moment they stepped into the apartment.

Over the next few weeks you would all begin to come back together, as Annemarie welcomed her baby. It was sooner than it should be and the knots in your stomach had meant you'd not ate all day. You were probably the most worried you'd ever been. You didn't want her to go through what you had. She was much further along in her pregnancy and it would make it hundreds time worse.

Your baby, a boy you'd thought, would have been..............STOP. Stop it right now, you told yourself as the lump formed in your throat and a tear ran down your face.

You spotted a sign for Brook Town and placed your hand on Ryan's leg and tapped lightly.

"Ry, Ry, Ryyyyyyyyyyyyyy"

"Urghhhhhhhhhhhh, this better be good"

"Were almost there."

"Oh. Babe did we even stop?"

You shook your head.

"Y/N! You should have taken a break!"

"It's fine. I just want to get there. I don't want her to be on her own."

Ryan's heart sinks when he realises. This isn't just about getting to your best friend quickly, it's that she has someone with her.

"Babe, she's not on her own. Daniel is there."

"I know, I know. You know what I mean." she reply glancing over at him, and he knows immediately what you mean. He still thinks of you in that hospital bed. How you looked so alone when he'd arrived, even when your Mum had decided to make an appearance.

He squeezed your arm and leaned over planting a kiss on your cheek.

"I know, I know."

"She only has him right now."

"I know and he probably needs us too. His family are still on vacation right?"

"I think so." you replied as you're mind started to wander again, Ryan squeezed your arm again. You smiled at him and pushed your intrusive thoughts back.

"So the pie shop and then the hospital right?"

"Yep" Ryan replied, pointing to the row of stores as you approached it "it's the second one along."

You parked immediately in front of the store, the evening setting in meaning it was a quiet time for shoppers. The store was open for another fifteen minutes but that didn't stop Ryan rushing in.

"I'll go in, you take a break, hopefully they haven't sold the pregnant lady's pie."

You snorted with laughter as he dashed in, deciding stretching your legs was a good idea. Your legs cramped up as you tried and you groaned loudly as you got out.

"Fuck me."

You heard a snort of laughter and looked around to find a set of piercing blue grey eyes looking at you. And there it was the fluttering in your chest.

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 4: Memories

Warnings: medical induced coma, medical inaccuracy,past relationship, mama seresin, flashback of jake and y/nrelationship—there italicized

Chapter Summary: Its not awkward sitting in the room with your ex boyfriend-mother.

Characters: Gina Sersesin | Doctor Kate Young

A/N: does jake make it ? , enjoy and thank you to everyone who continues to like and reblog and comment.

WC:810

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

—

You didn’t love him anymore not like before. Your just doing the right thing- which was keeping him company. After all what are ex girlfriends who still love their ex boyfriend there for?

So why are you sitting at your ex-boyfriend bedside holding his hand, reassuring him that you’ll never leave his side until he’s fully awake and functioning. You drop his hand by accident after hearing a familae voice, a voice you haven’t heard in a while.

You recognize two distinct voices- one voice belonging to Dr. Young the neurosurgeon who operated on Jake… and the other voiced was Jakes mother- Gina Seresin. Her voice heavy with a southern accent, dare you say heavier than Jakes. You hear Dr Young say something to her but your to busy listening to your heart rate accelerate to thousand beats per minute.

The back of your neck beat red you immediately rise out of the chair turning to meet her, she’s holding a bouquet of flowers, and picture of young Jake. Gina Seresin swears her old brain is playing tricks on her because Y/n L/n the heart her son broke was standing infront of her with a beat red face. “Is that you Y/n?”, you expected her voice to be dripping with anger but it isn’t, she motions you towards her. “C’mere darlin” she whispers to you.

“H-Hi Mrs. Seresin”, she envelopes you into a hug, her calmed voice provides you with a sense of comfort you haven’t had since you were a child. Your supposed to comforting the woman who son life hangs in between life and death, she flew all the way from Texas with by herself with the idea that her only son might be dead by the time she got to the hospital.

“Nonesense Y/n like I told you all those other times you have the right to call me anything but Mrs. Seresin”, she shushes you gently, neither of you were going to bring up the fact that both your shirts were now wet.

“Its nice to see you Gina”, your voice rough because of the crying you’ve been doing since you first saw Jake lying in the hospital bed.

You break apart from the hug- wiping away the tears,“Its nice to you see Gina, I wished we were meeting under different circumstances”, you grab the picture and flowers from her, putting on the table next to Jake. She pulls a chair from the wall, pulling it to the other side of Jakes bed.

She gives you a teary response in return,“Me too sweetheart”. Gina grabs Jakes hand gently and cups her hands around his,“Your going to be just fine baby, Rocky been waiting for you to ride her Jake”. How could you forget Rocky, when you and Jake were together he often brought up Rocky, a horse he had since he could walk. He would go on for hours about Rocky and how much he missed her while being stationed in California.

Wanting to give Gina alone time with her son you decided to slip out while her back to you and she’s busy telling Jake a story about Rocky.

You get lost in your mind as you wandered the hospital halls, walking past some hospital rooms with made beds, some with familes at the person bedside crying. Hearing a nurse yell clear as they attempt to bring someone back to life.

“Y’know Y/n your supposed to actually flip grill cheese”. Jake murmurs from behind, wrapping his arms around you.“Do you not like cheese sweets?”. He asks you with his signature shit eating grin.

“Jake you didn’t complain last time when I made it”. you hold the spatula upto his chest,“Not once did you speak ill of my cooking”.

“Well sweetheart you supposed to give compliments to the chef”. He grabs the spatula out of your hand placing it onto a napkin nearby.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”, you two are swaying back in forth with your arms lightly wrapped around Jakes neck.

“Yes it is”. you roll your eyes at Jakes sacarsm.“I love how excited you get when its your turn to cook that I just eat it darlin,watching you sing and bump your hips to music while cooking is my favorite thing to watch”.

“Well” you started to get teary, can’t find anything to say. “I love you Jake”. He pulls you so close that you feel how warm he is.

“Gotta show my darlin how much I love her”. Jake whispers into your ears, suddenly his lips are softly crashing into yours.

Between each breathe Jake utters a I love you.

“I love you so much sweetheart”. Jake inhales again, “I fucking love you”.

Your leaning aganist the doorway watching Gina finally succumb to sleep after hours of sitting at Jake beside awake, afraid to fall asleep.

“I love you”. you whispered into the quiet room.

Taglist: @chocolatefartstrawberry, @buckysteveloki-me, @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @classyunknownlover, @els-marvelvsp, @i-am-mrsreckless, @cinderellasmissingshoes,

[disarm-you]

Escape

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You had a one night stand with Frank a few weeks ago. Now he’s bloody and on your doorstep. What’s a gal to do?

Content Warnings: Adult Content- MDNI, POV Female character, Biting, Vaginal Sex

It had been a long day at the hospital and you were tired. You sigh heavily as you open your bedroom window, letting in the cool autumn air. The chill however, was welcoming as fall was your favorite season. 

Smelling the crisp air, you sit down at your desk. You take a drag from your vape as you look at your stack of books, deciding which world you want to enter. Yeah, there’s much that needs done at your apartment and reports that you need to finish for work but you have no energy for chores. Five patients coded at the start of your shift and well, it all went downhill from there. Right now, you were just looking for an escape.

You take another hit from your pen, welcoming the relaxing buzz from the CBD when you hear a knock at the door. Confused, you check your phone. No notifications. Your heart skips a beat, anticipating who would show up on your doorstep at 1am. Throwing on your robe, you walk to the door. Checking the peephole, you see him and your heart stops. Mind quickly flashing back to the last time you saw him. It had been a few weeks since you met Frank at a bar and he gave you a different kind of escape. 

You quickly open the door, meaning to say hi but pausing when you notice the blood on his shirt. “Can I come in?” Frank asks and you swiftly step aside. “What happened!?” You exclaimed and before he could answer you asked, “Are you alright?” You pull at his shirt, trying to assess the damage. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle. Mind if I use your shower?” Confused, you say yes and point to the bathroom that is down your hall. 

Hearing the shower turn on, you decide to make some coffee and try to process your feelings. You didn’t expect to see Frank - isn’t that what a one night stand is, just one night? He was the first man you ever met out and brought home. And now he was showing up unannounced and bloody? Why? Why didn’t this scare you? It should scare you but your mind briefly wanders to your last meeting and your heart sped up. You recalled how his rough hands felt against your smooth skin, how he took what he needed from you without greed. The man was intimidating but you felt safe in his presence. You hear the water turn off as the heat in your abdomen starts to rise. 

Frank came out of your bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He was built like a brick house, muscles gliding under the skin as he walked towards you. It was a sight for sore eyes. “This mine?” He asks, as he picks up a cup, noticing you staring longer than normal. “Yeah, all yours. Would you like-” Your words cut off when you noticed the wound on his shoulder. It was deep and looked bad. You knew it needed attention soon, before infection set in. “Sit down” you say as you place your cup of coffee on the counter and walk away. Frank does as he’s told and you come out of your bedroom with your first aid kit. “Your shoulder doesn’t look so hot, let me help you.” you say as you place your kit on the table beside him. “Nah, I’m good, darling.” Frank says as he shifts away from you. You step closer, “Judging by the depth of that stab wound, you aren’t going to be good for much longer. You really should have gone to the hospital, not here!”

What, are you a nurse?” Frank huffed as he took a sip of coffee. “No, a doctor.” You retorted while you ensured his wound was cleaned and started stitching him up. “Hmm.” He grunts, “it seems that I did come to the right place.” He chuckles, as you work. 

While doing so, you noticed his chest and torso is littered with scars and bruises, some recent but most were aged. It was quiet while you did so but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He drank his coffee and winced a few times while you worked. When you are done, you pack up your kit, wash your hands and sit down at the table beside him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Frank says when you’ve settled. Your heart jumps again and the heat in your abdomen grows stronger. 

“Frank, I’m not complaining but why are you here?” You ask as he leans in and kisses you. It was soft and gentle but you opened your mouth, desperately wanting more. Frank notices and obliges, slowly letting his tongue explore your mouth. You let out a soft moan and he pulls you into his lap. You caress his shoulders and neck while deepening the kiss but are careful to avoid his wound. He playfully bites down on your lower lip and you grind into his lap involuntarily, feeling him hardening beneath you. There isn’t much to hide with just a towel and your shorts between you.  Frank starts to kiss and nibble alongside your neck and you’re almost embarrassed by how wet you already are. You shake off your robe and Frank pulls your top over your head, revealing your breasts to him. Frank kisses down your chest and you gasp as he takes a nipple in his mouth, while massaging your other breast in his hand. You grind harder into him and his hips start to meet yours. This only ignites your fire and you whimper his name. Frank’s mouth moves to your other breast while his hands trail down your abdomen, fingers pausing at the top of your shorts. He looks at you, eyes asking if this is ok. You nod and his fingers dip below the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brush along your slit and he smiles as he feels your dampness. He begins to massage your clit and your belly is lit with desire. Breathing heavy, you lean in to kiss him, tongue greedily exploring his mouth. Frank’s hand slides down, fingers circling your entrance. “Please” you say as he captures the next moan to leave your mouth. He begins to slip two, thick fingers inside you, moving dangerously slow, stopping once he reaches the spongy spot inside you. He curls his fingers, begins to move faster and stars light up behind your eyes. Frank kisses your neck, enjoying the look of pure bliss on your face. Moaning his name, Frank picks up the pace until he can feel you on the brink of now return. “C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He says. And let go is what you do, body tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

“I need you to fuck me.” Your words startle even yourself as they fall out of your mouth. Frank helps you up, standing with you while you take off your shorts. Once removed, his large hands grab your hips and turn you around. He roughly bends you over the kitchen table, stepping behind you while positioning your hips to a comfortable spot. Frank runs the tip of his member through your folds, teasing you even more before he guides himself inside you, breathing heavily as he does so. You let out a deep moan as he fucks you with a brutal pace. Frank fills you like none other before. The feeling leaves your head empty of thoughts; all you can do is hold on to the table and get lost in the absolute bliss that this man gives you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Frank lets out while he pulls your hair and you can hear in his voice how close he already is too. His arm wraps around your hips and he starts working your clit again. The pleasure is insurmountable and you feel yourself on the brink of climax. “Can you bite me?” You ask in between heavy breaths and Frank obliges, leaning over you to bite and suck on your exposed neck. It was what you needed to send you over the edge. Legs shaking, walls spasming around Frank and you get your escape, again. You can feel Frank twitching right before he pulls out and shoots thick ropes of cum on your ass. He begins to pepper kisses down your spine, waiting while you come back to the present. Once he feels you are coming back, he reaches down to grab his towel, and helps to clean you up. 

“I don’t know what, if anything, is happening here. But can you stay the night?” You ask Frank, nervous that he won’t want to stay. He nods his head yes and you lead him to the bedroom, where you two had your first encounter. You both get into bed, settling with his arm around you. Sleep finds you both quickly,a dreamless night not waking until your alarm goes off the next day. 

Upon waking, the bed is empty and a feeling- anxiety? Regret? Sadness? You aren’t sure which, maybe a mixture of all tightens across your check. You roll out of bed, use the bathroom and make your way into the kitchen. The table reminds you of the ache that Frank left in your body. You move to pick up last night’s coffee cups when you see a hand scribbled note, just 11 digits on a scrap of paper, written in sloppy writing. Your heart skips a beat at the possibility of seeing Frank again. 

[secondbeatsongs]

mister(?) sbs, will you please tell us about "diagnosis: encounter with a squirrel" off the lies poll?

so, my dad has a vendetta against the neighborhood squirrels.

sorry, this is a long one, and I couldn't think of a better place to put the readmore than right here at the start of it, so here we are!

buckle up

so my dad hates the squirrels because they cause property damage and steal the nuts off our pecan tree, and for him it's become personal, so he's waging an all-out squirrel war. he sets traps, he shoots them, and he celebrates each kill as if it's a personal victory.

(I mean hey, I don't like it, but it gives him something to do.)

but the thing is, after my dad kills these squirrels, he just disposes of them. and I think that's a waste, so...I learned how to skin them. to keep their pelts.

that's the backstory here. that's a fun thing you now know about me!

anyway, this has been going pretty well - I now have a pile of squirrel pelts under the porch, waiting for warm weather and free time so I can tan them. and I'm really careful about all of this - I wear gloves, I clean my tools well, and I never run into any problems

or at least I hadn't run into any problems until last November, when one of my nitrile gloves got a hole in it without me noticing, and I got squirrel blood all over my hand.

...a hand where I happened to have an open wound.

yeah. so. I called the local hospital and vaguely explained what happened, and asked, "uh, hey! is this something I need a rabies shot for?"

"uhh," the nurse said helpfully, "we can't give medical advice over the phone. but if you're concerned, feel free to visit the emergency room!"

and. I mean. I wasn't not concerned about it! rabies is like, a death sentence for sure, so??

so I went to the emergency room, and explained what happened to a different nurse, got stared at and told to wait, and after about 45 minutes of killing time (and listening to a man and a woman in the waiting room debate the concept of free will, argue about god, and plan an intervention for their gambling-addicted brother), I got brought back into an exam room

the doctor basically looked at my chart and asked me to explain myself, so I gave her the rundown of "cut open a squirrel, glove broke, got squirrel blood on an open wound, what do I do about that?"

she seemed more confused by this situation than anything else, but she looked up a few things, and then told me that if it had been any other mammal she would have recommended a rabies shot, but that in this area, squirrels are not a rabies risk! and so I didn't have anything to worry about

which, cool! glad to not have rabies!

anyway she disappeared for a bit to finish paperwork and stuff so I could leave, and a few other nurses wandered over and asked me the polite version of, "hey, what the fuck?" so I explained the whole thing all over again, and fielded questions like, "how…exactly…did this happen?" and "is this like...a taxidermy thing?", and "😭 but...why? I love squirrels!" until the doctor returned, told me I could leave, and then cheerfully said, "there you go! your medical record now says, 'diagnosis: encounter with squirrel'! have a nice day!"

it was definitely one of the experiences I've ever had.

but the day after that was pretty fun too, because that's when I got a phone call from the health department!

the person on the line was a nice lady with a strong, gruff southern accent, and she said, "we're required to follow up on all potential rabies risks, and I hear you had uh…a…squirrel encounter?"

jfc.

so I went over it all again with her, explaining how it happened.

times I have now had to explain the squirrel thing: 5

after I got done my sordid tale, she repeated what the doctor said about squirrels not being a rabies risk, and then tacked onto the end, "unless...before it was killed, was the squirrel acting...nutty?"

I am in love with health department lady. we will have a spring wedding.

me: "nah, the squirrel seemed normal."

her: "okay."

her: "do you uh…skin squirrels often? I mean, I can't judge."

me: "no, please do. I encourage it. this is getting ridiculous."

her: "well, still. one of my coworkers - the one I inherited this job from - he left me a taxidermied rat!" :D

me: "oh! that's cool!"

her: "it is!"

…

me: "…anyway"

her: "yeah, have a nice afternoon!"

so, that's the story of how I got squirrel blood on an open wound, got stared at by a bunch of healthcare professionals, and (probably) became a story that people tell to their friends when they need an example of a truly odd person.

the end!

oh, and the moral of this story btw (if you care to know) is that before rushing off to the ER to see if you need a rabies shot, the correct course of action is to call the health department! because they're the ones who have the data to tell you whether or not your health is at risk from getting bled on by a dead squirrel.

(at least, that's what the nice health department lady said. I hope she's doing well! I think of her often)

[lunarifie]

The Hollow - SuperHero School AU Power Discovery Backstories

SuperHero school au explanation post

Reeve:

- Reeve’s parents died when he was 3 on a Super-Hero mission.

- Once his grandmother took him in, she tried everything to get Reeve to discover his powers. She did this in grief, hoping that Reeve would have his parents powers and the that she’d be able to hold on to a small part of them.

- Because of this, Reeve’s incredibly complicated power was discovered incredibly early.

- At first, Reeve felt pressure, believing he had to live up to all the tremendous stories his grandmother told him about his parents.

- Eventually, his grandmother reassured him that he didn’t have to live up to those expectations. Reeve gladly decided not to care, growing into his own person outside of his powers.

Mira:

- Mira was adopted when she was 5. When her fathers discovered she had powers, It was assumed by them and by the school district that it was genetics.

- This was proven to be false when Mira decided to go back to a lake she’s had fuzzy memories of when she was a child.

- Mira discovers she was in fact slashed by an eerie unidentified creature, one that had somehow found its way out of the ocean and into the lake.

- For some reason, she cannot talk to this creature, but memories flood back and she remembers falling into that exact lake when she was 4, safely returning back to shore with only a small injury and two new powers.

Adam:

- Both of Adam’s parents were Normie’s, so it was a surprise when their son suddenly came home with the strength of a body builder and the agility of a gymnast.

- Turns out, the martial arts/self defense dojo they sent their son to (to stop the bullying) had an instructor who’d been impressed with Adam’s determination and drive.

- The old instructor was a retired Super-Hero. He no longer had a need for his power, a power that’d been passed down for generations. So, he decided to become a self-defense instructor in search of an inheritor.

- Adam was found worthy and was bestowed the power (unknowingly). Adam was given a note by the instructor, explaining everything, but when Adam went to confront him, the instructor was no longer at the dojo.

Vanessa:

- Vanessa’s parents divorced when she was 6. Her mother had floatation powers and her father was a Normie. Vanessa mostly lived with her mother, increasing the desire to have powers instead of being boring and normal like her father.

- One day, on vacation with her parents, she stood a bit too close to the ledge of a bridge. Vanessa bends down to tie her shoes, only to trip and fall off. Both of her parents are too busy arguing to notice her descent.

- That is until she flies. The crowd of tourists clap for her, bringing over her parents attention.

Skeet:

- As a kid, Skeet was a wanderer, constantly giving his single father heart attacks. One day, his father (a nurse) brings Skeet to the hospital to visit, and as always, Skeet wanders.

- Skeet stumbles upon an empty hospital room with a comatose patient. This super-powered patient has specific chemicals being pumped into them due to their super-power requirements.

- Skeet sees the plastic bag of chemicals dripping onto the floor, and being a curious 6 year old, dips his finger in the chemical puddle and licks it.

- His speed powers come in a year later with no explanation. Skeets father rushes him to the hospital and they explain that Skeet swallowed a substance that had a 90% chance of killing him. As shown, Skeet had luckily survived.

Kai:

- Both of Kai’s parents come from a long lineage of super-powered individuals that double in powers. Due to this, his parents have a sense of self-superiority.

- As time passes, Kai feels an immeasurable amount of pressure to have super-powers, especially when he showed no signs of them at the age of 6.

- His parents sent him to every doctor they knew. All they could say was that Kai was a late bloomer (since his parents left no room for discussion of their son possibly being a Normie).

- When he was 13 years old and still showed no sign of powers, his parents gave up on him and abandoned him in Davis’s care. They only visited every few months, enrolling him into The Hollow high-school for super-powered individuals, as a last ditch effort.

- Eventually, at the school, Kai’s powers are discovered. Yet they are still not up to his parents standards, since he only has one power, and its unknown how he received them.

[remarcely]

Undeath In The Family- Remarcely AO3 [Batman Fanfic]

As his nails tore through wood and dirt, Jason pinched his eyes shut and held his breath. The fact alone he had breath to hold was remarkable and likely the only thing fuelling his frenzied escape from his own coffin. By the time worms and mud broke away and he finally felt air hit his face, he gasped for breath and heaved himself over to roll onto the grass. Cradling his hands, marred and ruined, against his chest, he curled up on his side and heaved with each inhale. His eyes stayed shut, screwed up tight as he struggled through waves of dizziness.

He laid amongst the headstones for a while, shaking, as tears broke clean paths down his dirt-covered face. Jason attempted to shout, scream, but the words died in his throat and came out as groans of pain or stringed together sounds- utter nonsense. It was useless, there was no one around to hear him anyway, and that left him with one last choice; crawl.

At first he tried his hands- purely out of instinct- and let out a ragged cry at the pain. He didn’t have time to waste, however, and instead made use of his wrists. He reached out as far as he could and dragged himself forward, each movement and jostle of bones leaving him in absolute agony. Even upon the padded floor of the coffin, he had been screaming out from his broken bones. How morbid that his hands merely matched the rest of his fucked-up body.

Not one to be deterred so easily, he reached again. And again, and again, and again. His hands bumped into cold marble, taller grass, wilted remains of flowers, and eventually hard stone beneath him. Uneven and leading in a long stretch ahead of him. A pathway.

Continuing to crawl, he nudged his face against his sleeve and built up the courage to open his eyes. It was night and nearing morning. A heavy mist had settled down upon the graveyard and the lights of Gotham far ahead were blurred in the haze. His gaze wandered to the pathway, the next slab ahead, and then down to bloody skin-

He shut his eyes.

After a while, he found a use for the pain. Not only was it keeping him moving, but it was far stronger than any pinch and constantly reminded Jason that he was alive. Barely, screaming and just about hanging on, but alive nonetheless.

When he paused in his journey, panting and forehead pressed against the ground beneath, he did not hear the distant whistle. Nor the mumbled cursed, harried footsteps, and with his eyes shut so firmly the light of a torch also went unnoticed.

He slumped to the ground at a stranger’s feet as trembling fingers dialled 911.

-

In terms of comfort, had his entire body not been crushed, Jason would have taken the plush lining on his coffin over the scratchy sheets of a hospital bed. He might have said so to one of the nurses hovering by him, it’d probably make them laugh, but at most it’d drag out as a pathetic moan and at best it’d up the dosage of whatever drugs they had him on. Maybe the latter wouldn’t be so bad, the feeling in his legs was beginning to fight back.

The nurse on shift that night, keeping the watch over John Doe while the police did their work, was chatty. From the second he entered the room and started checking Jason over, he had talked non-stop about himself, or the floors gossip (the old lady down the hall was a riot apparently), whatever he could to fill the dead air.

Jason wasn’t entirely awake for it, slipping in and out. With so much of his body either bandaged, splinted, or mottled with bruises, perhaps that was a blessing. Besides, the guy just reminded him of Dick, which made him think of Alfred, and that could only lead to-

“Hm? Did-did you say something there, little guy?” The nurse crouched slightly by the upper half of the bad, so sure he’d heard the patient speak. Poor kid, he must have been dreaming, hopefully something peaceful “Don’t get shy on me now, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listen-”

“Bruce.”

-

When the phone rang out in Wayne Manor, the officer on the other end knew it’d be a long shot. At two in the morning, any sane person would be fast asleep.

Click.

“Hello? Bruce Wayne speaking.”

Sat at the bat-computer, fresh coffee steaming in his mug, Bruce paused the CCTV footage up on the big screen and swiped his thumb across his phone screen to pick up the call.

“Oh, uh, Mr Wayne. Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would- never mind. My name is Officer Riley, I do apologise for calling you so late and all, but there was… well. There has seemed to be an incident concerning the- uh- grave of your son, Jason Todd.”

He stayed perfectly still, as frozen in time as the video he’d been scouring for clues, and took a deep breath “Excuse me, my sons grave? Has it been damaged?” Not by accident, the police would hardly be called in for something so simple, and while a graffitied child’s headstone was horrific it would have been left for the mornings concern.

“That’s a um, a good question, sir. The groundskeeper found someone, a kid- well, frankly beat to all hell if you’ll pardon my language, in the cemetery, and in our investigation, we found he originated from… uh. Something broke out of the grave, sir, and the hospital has just confirmed the ID of Jason Todd from our John Doe.”

-

Not bothering to find anything more than his wallet and keys, Bruce all-but tore the front door off its hinges as he made straight for the closest car in the drive. He white-knuckled the steering wheel, teetering on the edge of the speed-limit, and barked out for the cars system to dial Dicks phone number. He did not for one second tear his eyes away from the road- barely lit by the dimmed street lights- as it rung.

After two more tries, someone answered.

“Bruce? Come on, it’s like-”

“Gotham General Hospital, second floor, room twelve. Get there. Now.”

Dick didn’t argue, he knew that tone all too well and it was never brought out for anything less than an emergency “I’m grabbing my coat now, is it Tim?”

“No, I’ll tell you when you get there.”

“B, you can’t just leave me with-”

He cut him off, the hospital visible and only moments away “I will not risk you getting into an accident, Dick, just get here and I will debrief you when you do.”

Tearing into the car park, he burst from the car and locked it behind him with the key fob, if not purely out of habit. Showing his ID to the police officers waiting at the front desk, he was guided into the elevator, down hallways and eventually they came to a stop outside a unassuming door, just like any other in the wing yet somehow a hundred times more taunting.

“His bloodwork came back, we got the boys to rush it through, and we’re pretty certain it’s him but anything you can give us would help.” The woman to his left spoke softly and pushed the door open.

Shrouded in tubes and bandages was a boy, dark haired and on the short side for his age- he always had been. Should his eyes have been open, Bruce had not a single doubt in his mind they would have been blue.

A gentle hand on his shoulder jolted Bruce back into the present, hesitantly taking a step across the threshold “Behind his left ear, Jason had a small mole.” He weakly gestured to his own ear, a shaky finger pointing to the area he was describing.

The doctor lightly tilted the kids head to the side, not too much in fear of jostling any of his injuries, and bent down to peer at the patch of skin. He reached for a wipe, the packet sat upon the table next to him, and dabbed away the left-over dirt clinging on. His eyes widened and he looked up at the officers, nodding.

“It’s there.”

-

Dick found Bruce sat, head in his hands, on a plastic chair in a hallway on the second floor. He looked like shit, to put it likely, with eye bags so heavy it was a wonder he hadn’t dropped to the ground from the weight. At the sound of approaching footsteps, echoing down the corridor, he looked up and stood.

Before Dick had the chance to even ask what was going on, he was pulled into a tight hug. His hands awkwardly lifted to pat Bruce on the back “What’s going on, Bruce?”

The man pulled away, though still kept Dick close, and sighed with a shaky smile “It’s Jason. He’s alive.”

“What?” Dick whispered, eyes wide in confusion “Dad, no. Jason died.”

“I-” Bruce huffed out an exhausted chuckle under his breath, bordering on hysterical, and tugged Dick towards a door “I know, but somehow he’s back.”

Walking in first, Dick was close to stumbling back into the hall at the sight of a hauntingly familiar face covered with an oxygen mask. They were alarmingly pale, mostly swaddled in bandages and casts, but there was no mistaking it. It was Jason and nothing short of a miracle at that.

“I don’t- I don’t understand.”

Bruce pulled him closer to his side, squeezing an arm around his shoulders “I got a call, the keeper at the cemetery found someone collapsed on the ground. The police followed the trail and it went back to a grave with the earth pushed up.”

“Is he… like Grundy?”

“No, chum.” He shook his head “They’ve checked him over here, apart from the injuries and lack of oxygen, he’s doing alright. It’s a matter of waiting for him to wake up.”

On unsteady legs, Dick approached the bed. Down on the blanket was a small hand, bandaged with dirt under the nails. He crouched down, holding that hand in both of his, tremors shaking the both of them, so scared of hurting his little brother. His fingers brushed further down the wrist and felt a slow but steady pulse.

-

By the time Tim dragged himself out of bed and made it downstairs, the phone had already rung once and been answered by Alfred. The young robin did not find the butler making breakfast as he would any other morning, in fact the kitchen was empty with kettle untouched. With a piece of bread (untoasted) in his mouth, Tim investigated the house to find himself mostly alone.

He was wandering about, peeking through doors, when Alfred found him. The butler had shockingly just exited Jasons old room, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and was wiping at his reddened eyes.

“Oh, Master Timothy, I do apologise it seems I forgot to prepare you a proper breakfast.” Alfred fondly ruffled the kid’s hair.

“What’s happening Alfie? Where’s Bruce?”

Wiping the crumbs from Tims sweater, Alfred kneeled down to face him properly “Master Bruce had a call last night, to the hospital. Both him and Master Dick are there now.”

Tim looked from the shut door over the man’s shoulder to the zipped up bag “This has something to do with Jason.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re quite the detective,” Alfred weakly smiled “They found a body that has been identified as young Master Jason.”

His jaw dropped “But… Are they certain?”

“Very, Master Bruce sent further evidence from the boy to the cave for testing. Heavens knows how, but it seems we have been given a miracle, my boy.”

[mpregandproud]

Isaac (Part 5)

We had already been on the road for three hours. We were halfway between Sandra's town and the city where Isaac and I were living and where I moved to when I started college. I had made that drive thousands of times in those four-plus years and it had never felt as long as it did that day. I was tense, I sensed that something bad had happened. I was worried about Sandra, of course, but one question kept hovering over me: would my children be okay?

Since we rushed out of the house, I kept rubbing my belly. It was as if my body was asking me to protect the three lives I was carrying inside me. I was telling them that they would be safe with me, that nothing would happen to them. Could I really guarantee their safety? Would I really be able to give them a good life? A whirlwind of questions and doubts flooded my head, and Isaac's hand.

He was driving the car, but he practically never let go of my left hand. I barely told him that the call was from St. George's Hospital, where Sandra was supposed to deliver. I was told that something had happened with her and that I should report to the hospital immediately. Isaac's reaction was instantaneous, he set about packing two travel bags with clean clothes and some necessities. In 10 minutes he had everything packed for him and me as well while I wandered around the house with a blank stare and my hands on my belly. Isaac called the university where he was teaching to ask for a few days off so he could come with me. He knew very well that my insecurity and anxiety, even though they seemed to have been overcome, were still there, and that he was one of the few things that put my life in order.

We arrived after two in the afternoon. We asked at reception for Sandra Díaz and were taken to a large meeting room. There the hospital director, the head of maternity and a couple of lawyers introduced themselves. I knew one of the lawyers, he was a friend of Sandra's, I had dinner with him several times while I was married to her. That whole scene only made me even more tense, until James, the hospital's lawyer, began to speak.

"Mr. Norris, thank you for coming so quickly. I imagine the gentleman with you is your current partner, your ex-wife's lawyer has brought us up to date. I'm sorry to have to give you this news, but considering your pregnancy, we felt it best not to tell you anything until you were here. Three days ago, Sandra, your ex-wife, went into labor and it was her mother, Linda, who brought her here. Unfortunately, on their way to the hospital they were hit by another hit-and-run vehicle. Linda died and Sandra was badly injured. She was immediately transferred to this hospital and we performed a cesarean section to try to save the babies. The boy did not survive, but the girl is safe and sound, being cared for by the nurses. Sandra, she clung to life for a few more hours, until she passed away early this morning," the lawyer said coldly. Isaac gripped my hand tighter than ever, and draped his other arm over my shoulder supporting me. I needed something to give me stability at that moment. I needed Isaac. The four people in front of me offered their condolences and regretted what had happened.

After a brief pause, Ernest, Sandra's lawyer and friend, spoke. "I'm very sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Dan. Sandra hasn't stopped talking about you these last few weeks since she came back to town. For her, leaving you, was the biggest mistake of her life. She admired you, and she admired what you had built with Isaac. She wanted you to be a part of her children's lives, she wanted them to know a man as good and caring as you. Now, sadly, that little girl will never get to meet her mother. How unfair life is”. Ernest found it hard to say those words, he was very fond of Sandra. Once she told me that when they studied together at the village high school they were like sweethearts. "The thing is that the only family Sandra had left was her mother, and she died in the accident. Before she passed away we presented her with different solutions and she was clear from the very first moment that she would like you, the girl's father, to take care of her. One of her last wishes was for you and Isaac to be the parents of the little girl. I know it's all very hasty but we should settle this matter today, otherwise the child would go to social services," Ernest said. "Think about it, Mr. Norris, talk it over with your partner and let us know in a few hours what you want to do," the hospital director added. "If you want to see the girl you can ask one of our nurses to accompany you to the maternity service to see her," the head of that department added.

The four of them left, Ernest being the only one who came over to give me a hug. We both burst into tears at that moment. He already had a partner and a baby girl, I had already divorced Sandra and was expecting triplets with Isaac, but neither of us had forgotten her. He smiled and said goodbye to me, shook Isaac's hand and walked out of the room to leave us alone. I turned and before I even started crying again Isaac wrapped his strong arms around me. I soaked his shirt with my tears, but he didn't let go of me at any point, nor did he make any pretense of trying to stop my crying. He let me cry until I had completely let it all out. And after that, when I had hardly any tears left to shed, he grabbed both my hands, smiled at me, looked at my lips and kissed me. "I want you to know that I love you and that I will support you 100% in whatever decision you make," he said.

We asked a nurse to accompany us to the maternity ward. There in a crib was the little girl. She looked just like me, except for her eyes, which resembled Sandra's. I was seeing a little cross between me and my ex-wife, I couldn't believe it. It was the most beautiful and exciting thing I had ever seen in my life. I took the baby girl in my arms and rested her on top of my belly. I spent long minutes cradling that precious little girl in my arms, while Isaac fiddled with her tiny hands. She was perfect, precious, beautiful... she was my daughter. Isaac knew from the moment I saw her that I wanted to take her with me. I don't know if it was pregnancy hormones or my parenting instincts, but I couldn't conceive of my daughter being raised by other people. "We'll have to prepare her room at home, buy her a beautiful crib, toys and lots of clothes. And name her," Isaac told me, without needing to ask me if I wanted to take her. "Her name will be Sandra," is all I told him.

We met again in the afternoon with the committee and processed all the paperwork. Little Sandra already had a father, and in the same paperwork, Isaac legally adopted her. Her mother would not be able to take care of her, but her father would be with her all her life.

For the next two days we were in the hospital. The nurses taught us several tricks to give her a bottle, too bad my breast is still not able to give her milk. We learned how to change diapers. We learned how to be parents in an express way. Looking at the situation, it will be good for us to practice with Sandra for when the triplets arrive.

My pregnancy, as you can imagine, was the center of attention during those days. Isaac took the tightest clothes he had around the house, so much so that part of my belly had to be worn up in the air at times. I was four and a half months pregnant with triplets, my belly was unmistakably pregnant. The head of maternity offered to reveal the sex of the babies we were expecting. I was tested and was pregnant with a girl and two boys. The tests were all in order, except for the weight, which was too much for this stage of pregnancy, although it was nothing alarming, at least medically speaking, my clothes did not agree.

When we left the hospital I asked Isaac for the most complicated favor. "Honey, I want to stop in my village on the way back to our house. I want to talk to my parents and introduce you and little Sandra, my family. I think I'm finally ready to take this step."

Go to Part 6

[an-alamort-poet]

Warning this story is about eating disorders and time spent in the psych ward.

When I was sixteen I was admitted to a psych ward. And there was this girl there that I've never been able to stop thinking about. Everything I say about her is what I've seen; from what people told me about her, she never spoke.

While I was there, there were four people there that I knew were there for having an eating disorder and she was one of the four. she walked around with an IV pole that I watched her nearly trip over now and again.

There were only two single-person rooms, she and another girl with an eating disorder had them.

In the ward, the beds you sleep on are so thin you might as well have slept on the floor. But hers was the only room on our unit with a normal hospital bed. She had a woman whose job was to follow her around while she walked from her room through the hallways and a few times into the lounge. it seemed like she had no idea where she was.

I'd tell her good morning and goodnight almost daily, but it never felt like she saw me. She always seemed like she looked right through me. But one day while we were in the lounge she went to sit next to me. She usually just sits in a chair away from anyone else for maybe ten seconds before standing back up and wandering off, I watched her almost miss the chair when she went to sit down, the woman whose job was to follow her had to push her a little to make sure she sat in the chair instead of falling off the side of it. We sat there silently for about two minutes next to each other. It was the longest I ever saw her sit in a chair. The woman smiled at me and told me that she liked me. She then got back up and continued her usual walk around the hallways.

I saw a puddle of pee in her room one time and heard a nurse talk about helping her get into a pull-up. I mentioned it to a friend of mine who had been there longer than I had telling her how I felt bad that she lives like that. My friend then told me that she purposely pees herself to get the pull-ups, she had no idea why. But I imagine it's because it must be easier to have someone help you change yourself a few times a day, then come with you to help and watch you every time you're in a bathroom. But I'll never really know why she prefers the pull-ups. 

But the main thing that keeps me thinking of her is what I saw once during visiting hours. The way that it was set up was sometime around 6 pm. I can't remember the exact time, it has been a few years. visitors would come for an hour, and then after that, it was room time. During room time one day I was sitting in my doorway watching whatever the nurses were doing when I saw who I assumed was her dad was still there. I thought it was weird that he got to stay after everyone had left. I sat at my door wondering why they were in the hallway instead of the lounge when I realized it was because she was doing what she always did, just wandering up and down the hallway. I watched as she looked at her dad and he waved at her while she just looked at him for a moment, only a second. Then she went back to her wandering. I walked into my room and just sat on my bed. I thought about how her dad must feel to be watching his daughter just fade away like that.

When I would hear people talk about why you should fight your eating disorder it was always something about how you should be happy with how you are, self-love. They talk about how starving yourself could cause you to gain more weight. How vomiting can destroy your teeth and how your hair thins and falls out. But I don't think that does the disorder justice for the debilitating disease it is. The idea of being skinny enough is what takes over your mind ignoring how you feel and the hunger. Your body starts to panic and does anything to keep itself alive. But eventually, your body can only spare so many resources, and parts of you start to shut down. Then suddenly theirs nothing of you left.

She did this thing with her hands where she would put her thumb in her palm and then squeeze her hands into a fist. It was the only thing she did that reminded me that she was once a person, and not always this wondering body that may never get better. And may not make it all.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

❛ you look happier. ❜

For Campbell/Joe?

Maybe some angst for poor, sad Joe?

(You’re amazing btw… I spend days looking at your GO extended universe stuff :) thanks for everything u do)

Thank you~! That's so nice of you, anon! :D

Warning: mild depression, use of the word manic instead of bi-polar (because this is the early 90's!)

On with the fic!

--

The bus came to a stop and Joe quietly rose from his seat, shifting his backpack on his shoulder before exiting. He knew the path up to the hospital better than he knew his own walk from the bus stop to his flat.

He kept his head low as he passed a few of the patients and a nurse out on the lawn, doing whatever it was they were doing. His hands were shoved in his coat pocket, his fingers touching at the guest pass he had. It was grounding him to have it there, a reminder that today was going to be good. It needed to be good.

He was spiraling, it happened. He was told that it was going to happen and he often wouldn't predict it.

Joe hadn't told Campbell when they spoke on the phone about his mood, the DJ had been so happy to talk to him that Joe didn't dare try to bring down his joy. He didn't want Campbell to worry about him either.

He found himself inside, when did that happen? The card was out of his pocket, and he was placing it on the front counter at the entrance. The nurse behind there smiled at him, probably said a greeting, he wasn't aware. He might have replied, he didn't know.

He took back his card and signed a sheet, then he headed into the hospital. He passed more patients and staff, some greeting him, some ignoring him.

He walked a familiar path, his body on autopilot as his mind wandered. He hoped that he hadn't shown his current state of mind to Campbell on the phone last night, he hoped he looked happier today. He wanted to be in a better mood for his boyfriend.

Joe was upstairs, passing the familiar TV room, where the usual folk were sitting around the TV, watching their stories. He passed them without a word, instead his body took him to a familiar window. The blinds were up, there was muffled sounds from inside.

He could see an excited face inside, talking into the mic, even though none of the equipment was turned on. Campbell was saying something before he glanced at the window, then did a double take. His smile was wide, bright, showing teeth. He was excited, of course he was, shouldn't Joe be? He was, but he didn't know if he could show it like his boyfriend did.

Campbell scrambled from the desk and threw open the door, rushing out into the hall. It was quick, but suddenly Joe was wrapped up in a tight hug, and actually felt himself being lifted off the ground. "C-Campbell...!" He exclaimed, then yelped when he was spun around.

"Joe! You're early! Wasn't expectin' you for another hour!" Campbell laughed, spinning them around once more before finally putting Joe down.

Joe huffed, shaking his head a little, before glancing at the clock. "No, I'm on time. You just haven't been paying attention to the time. Again."

"Really?" Campbell looked at the clock and blinked. "Ah! You're right! Can't believe I lost track of the time! Should've been out there waiting for you at the entrance. Heh, next I'll lose my head! But then what would this fabulous staff be paid to examine?"

This actually made Joe laugh. "Campbell, that was terrible. Good thing you're keeping to DJ-ing and not comedy."

"Oi! I'm hilarious!" Campbell sniffed, trying to look offended, but this only made Joe laugh again. He watched as Campbell smiled. "You look happier."

Joe stopped laughing. "W-what do you mean?"

"Well, when I saw you through the window, you looked really down. Hell, you kinda sounded that way on the phone last night too."

"I did...?"

Campbell nodded, then put a hand on Joe's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's alright. You're just having a low, I completely understand. I mean, I've been dealing with them all my life, ya know?"

Joe wanted to slap himself, of course he'd forget his boyfriend would understand. He was manic, he had highs and lows, it was normal for him. Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Sorry."

"Ah, don't be. Come on, you can chill in the studio with me! Maybe even help me out with my next set, if you're up for it?"

He looked at the understanding face of his boyfriend, and he nodded. Yeah, he was up for that. He slipped his hand into Campbell's and followed him into the little studio.

--

Campbell seems like he'd be very understanding, he tries his best with others from what I remember in the show, he'd do the same with Joe.

[jennay]

Don’t Leave me

The request:

Hi love 😍 can you write (in your free time!) fluff with Peter and Y/n when they're both secretly in love with each other and he kisses her for the first time? 🥰

When you graduated nursing school, you expected to work at a hospital or maybe even for a family that needed help with their elderly relative. However, you never wished to work for a man experimenting on children.

It wasn't explained this way when you signed the contract. You were told you'd care for young, sick children ranging from 7-18 years old.

They didn't say that you would be living there or that these children had unexplainable powers; you were sworn to secrecy, and if you didn't follow along, you'd be another body in the ground, and nobody would know.

You've been here for six months now, and the things you've seen will horrify you for the rest of your life.

You spent more time with the children than any of the adults. To be honest, it frightened you how none of the other adults seemed to care how wrong this was.

"Ms. (L/N), you're needed in room 22."

You smile at Peter; he might be the only person who genuinely cares for the children outside of yourself. "Thank you, Peter." you start down the hallway.

Peter stops you by resting his hand on your shoulder. His blue eyes hold sympathy as they wander your face. "It's not good." Admits. "Should I go with you?"

You swallow hard; this was the worst part of this job. The electroshock therapy would leave burns on the children, and they'd often come to find you when they were injured by the orderly or by Dr.Brenner himself.

Peter's hand drops back to his side. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, "I could use the assistance if it's as bad as you say."

Peter didn't necessarily want to help, but he enjoyed your company and slowly learned how to mimic your normal human emotions. He watched how you would smile and congratulate the children when they succeeded and how you'd pour your sympathy onto them while they were troubled or give them your love and affection. He didn't know why you did it. It's not like the kids ever did anything for you. Why would you reward them?

Peter didn't want to admit that he was jealous, but he was. He wished he had someone like you when he first arrived. Things could have been different if someone had shown him the kindness that you showed them.

When you entered the room, rage filled you as you looked at the teenage boy lying on the metal surface. They didn't give him a blanket, not a pillow. They left him to freeze in this tiny room that was soundproofed.

His collar was still around his neck, and burn marks appeared on his neck and face. You shudder at the sight, "Peter, can you grab a blanket out of the hall closet and maybe something he can rest his head on?" You sit next to the young boy; his eyes are closed, but he is breathing. You hold his hand and whisper, "I'm going to find a way to get you all out of here. I don't know how but I'm going to."

You didn't know that Peter was standing in the doorway listening to every word you said. He felt something strange like someone was pulling on his heart string. 'This isn't right.' He thinks to himself. 'I'm not allowed to feel these things.' Peter didn't know what love was, but he knew he felt different when you were around and when he watched you care for the children. Part of him wondered if someday you could show him love, and maybe the two of you could have children-

"Peter, can you help me for a second?"

He snaps out of his future plans and hands you the blankets that he found. After carefully adjusting the boy, you listen for his heartbeat and count his respirations. "It's going to take some time, but I think he'll be ok."

This image of your patient was engraved in your mind and would haunt you in your sleep. Not many people in this building knew that you were incredibly sensitive.

You feel tears pool in your vision, but you quickly blink them away and wipe your cheeks, hoping that Peter didn't see. You knew he wouldn't tell anyone, but you didn't need him thinking you were weak; you didn't know that he admired every emotion you showed.

"Hey," He sticks his hand out to you. "He's going to be ok. Let's get you back to your room. I think you need a break." Excitement pulsates through his body when you hold his hand. He felt you were the only person who treated him like a human. The others knew who he used to be and wanted nothing to do with him.

You'd heard stories and rumors about him, but you didn't care about the stories; Peter had always been gentle and kind to you. There was no reason for you to fear him; as a matter of fact, you found yourself wanting to be around him more and more. How could people be cruel to him when he was nothing but kind to everyone?

It amazes you that he showed respect for Dr. Brenner even after being punished for 'Fratinizing' with you. It seemed everyone else was allowed to talk to one another without judgment or repercussions, but when it came to Peter, he had a different set of rules to abide by.

Peter stops at your doorway, "I'll see you tomorrow." His voice is soft and shy; his eyes roam around the floor nervously.

Smiling, you ask, "Would you like to come in?" You take your long white jacket off, revealing your thin frame. "Come sit." You pat the bed next to you, and he makes his way over. Both of your backs leaned against the wall.

You don't know why but you rest your head on his shoulder, looping your arm with his and lacing your fingers together. "Your hands are cold." You bring his hand to your face and cup your free hand around your entangled fingers; you blow hot air to warm his hand.

What are you doing? Why do you always mistake kindness for flirtation?

Peter can't hide his smile. You were incredibly thoughtful; it was second nature to you, and he adored you. "That's better." He chuckles.

He cautiously leans his head on yours. "Why are you so good to me?"

He feels you shrug, "Why not?" You questioned.

"I've never had anyone want to be my friend before." He sadly admits.

You pull your head away from him. Your eyes locked with his, "I find that hard to believe." You cringe when the lights in the hallway shut off. The only light is now the lamp on the shelf by your bed.

He softly laughs at your reaction. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

You stand and walk over to your dresser. You know it's a bold move, but you shimmy out of your work pants and put them away. "I'm more so afraid of this place in general." You bounce to your bed and crawl under the blankets. "Will you stay with me?"

He curiously raises his brow. "You want me to stay here with you? In your bed?"

You sit up, pulling the blankets closer to your face. He smirks at how innocent you look as you nod your head. Your big doe eyes could charm him into doing just about anything. "I'll stay with you."

You watch as he removes his shoes and unbuttons his shirt; you try not to stare at him when his pants come off, but you can't help yourself. "Are you going to scoot over?"

"I guess," You tease him.

He takes no time getting under the covers next to you. He turns on his side, and you two stare at each other with smiles, taking in every freckle, wrinkle, and scar. He brings his hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You inch your face closer to his, your eyes shut, and you feel the most gentle kiss placed against your lips; just the smallest peck, but you knew he wasn’t as experienced as a normal adult would be. You knew he'd lived here most of his life and was also sworn to secrecy and contracted to stay here, at least that's what he told you.

He shyly pulls away from you and swallows hard, "I think I love you." He rubs his thumb against your cheek, "And I want to do that again."

A smile drapes your lips; you kiss him again, adding a little more passion, showing him you're happy with his words. When you start running out of breath, you pull away from him and say, "Good, 'cause I think I've always loved you." You kiss the tip of his nose and brush his hair out of his face. "Please don't ever leave me." You whisper.

He pulls you close to his chest and holds you tightly, "I'll never leave you. You're mine now, and I promise to keep you safe, always."