#he had to have corrective surgery he tells you if you ask

[eowynstwin]

Only protest I actually do have about Sam as Ghost’s face is that his nose is not NEARLY fucked up enough. I need that bridge to be twice as wide and clearly broken more than once. The kind of nose you look at and wonder how the dude can breathe at ALL, let alone so quietly.

[bet-on-me-13]

The weirdly competent Doctor

So! The Watchtower's Medical Bay is a hub of constant Activity. With the number of Heroes who work under the Justice League, there are always injuries, health check-Ups, and illnesses that need healing.

But with the amount of Variant Biologies that those Heroes have, it's always a guessing game as to how to help them best. Some Metahumans react positively to penicillin, but others react like it's their Kryptonite. Some Aliens have anatomy similar to Humans, others are so different you can't tell the Stomach from the Bladder.

So when they hired a New Doctor for the Medical Bay, they had to run him through an entire Course on Variant Biologies and how best to treat specific Heroes. It was long and difficult to remember fully, but it was necessary for him to know.

But then the new Doctor started correcting Them.

"Actually, Martian's react better to the Syrup of Eucalyptus Plants better than Penicillin, since Eucalyptus is very similar to a medicinal plant from Mars which they used in many of their antibiotics."

"I don't think just pumping double doses of sedative is the best way to calm down a Speedster, that could have adverse effects on their body. Perhaps try Psychic Intervention? Their minds move a Mile a Second, but if you can calm them down their bodies will follow suit."

"Of course you use Micro-Doses of Kryptonite to operate on Superman! What else would you do?! I don't know, maybe ask JLD to enchant your Equipment to make use of Kryptonian suseptiblity to Magic? The Kryptonite is just gonna give him Cancer!"

Of course the Doctors didn't take kindly to being rudely corrected by a newbie, and Fired him on his first day.

Then a few days later their usual Treatments don't work, and they decide to give those strategies the Quack Doctor gave them out of desperation.

And Lo and Behold, they work! Martian Manhunter is fully healed and feels much better than the previous times he has needed surgery. Apparently they used a different Antibiotic that worked better with his Biology. Which was incredible, how had they figured it out?

Another Doctor you say? One who was experienced on Martian Biology and Medicinal History? He would very much like to meet with the man!

...

What do you mean you fired him for talking back?!

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Emergency room [S. R] +18

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 12k

Summary: Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash

contents: exes to lovers, car accident, hospitals, mention of injuries (nothing graphic), mutual longing, SMUT, porn with plot, a little sub!spencer if you squint, penetrative sex (p in v), vanilla sex

Maybe there is a mistake with the grammar and pronouns, I swear I checked it the best I could but surely something escaped me! Enjoy :)

The ringing of your cell phone snapped you out of your hard-won reverie a few hours ago, and you sighed audibly into your pillow before opening your eyes. The device was somewhere on the nightstand, so it was enough to reach out and feel the wood a little to take it.

Virginia Hospital Center. 

You hoped the caller ID was wrong, which was highly unlikely, and you swiped to take the call, wondering what it could be.

“Virginia Hospital Center, may I speak to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” With a shaky voice you answered in the affirmative and then the woman continued: "I am calling because you are the emergency contact on file for Mr. Spencer Walter Reid, who has just been admitted to the emergency room”

Hearing this, you jumped out of bed like a spring and felt how a chill ran through your entire body, a sign of the obvious panic that had just invaded you.

"What happened? He's fine?"

“He suffered a car accident and now he is being transferred to the operating room. It is imperative that you show up at the hospital so that you can account for any complications and can help us complete the information in his medical history."

The woman behind the phone was barely finishing saying that when you were already looking for your car keys and a decent change of clothes. You only took what you had in your bag before getting in your car and starting the engine to start the march, even with the adrenaline that you had coursing through your system. The hospital was a bit far away, so every time you accelerated too much you had to remind yourself that you could have an accident too, and then that would be the last straw. With that constant change of speed, you managed to get there in almost an hour, a little less than the time it would normally take, but still too long for your liking.

Somewhat agitated you rushed to the reception desk, where there was a nurse whose voice you recognized from the previous call. She had to reassure you a bit when you desperately asked her, almost with tears in your eyes, to tell you where Spencer was and what condition he was in. 

“What relationship do you have with the patient?”

“I am his…” Your breath caught for a moment, thinking about whether it would be correct to tell the woman the truth or not; In the end, you decided to lie to her "girlfriend"

You and Spencer hadn't seen each other, at least not physically, for a little over a year. You often saw him on the news, in one or another now-forgotten photo that fell by accident from between the pages of your books, or in the articles on the internet about the conferences he gave; but you had never dared to contact him to go out, just as he hadn’t called again. You thought that eventually, you guys would meet again even if it was by chance, but you never imagined that it would be under these conditions. 

“Can you help me answer a few questions?” she murmured and to each question she asked you answered almost mechanically. You were quite surprised that, even with the time that had already passed, you still remembered everything perfectly, as if it were your own medical information that you were providing.

The woman informed you, as kindly as she could be, that Spencer had already been in surgery for an hour and that when the doctor came out he could explain what had happened in more detail. You thought about the hit he had suffered to end up there and the anxiety of knowing if he was okay was eating away at your place in the waiting room, where you alternated between biting your nails and moving your leg up and down to calm down.

You wondered, meanwhile, why he still had you listed as an emergency contact. You knew he wasn't a person with many friends, but it sounded more practical for that position to be filled by someone he lived with more often, like Prentiss or Hotchner, not you. It wasn't the first time you'd been in a hospital with Spencer as a patient and you tried to remind yourself that those other times everything had gone well, but on those other occasions he'd always gotten immediate care because he'd been working or it was simple things like a cold that had become too bothersome. You wondered how far he had crashed, how long it had taken the ambulance to get there, how much pain he had experienced. You were really worried, until after half an hour that seemed like an eternity you heard the nurse call you and a doctor appeared next to her.

The first thing you asked, with a trembling voice, was if he was okay, and when you felt the doctor's soft nod you felt your soul return to your body. Then he explained everything that had happened in greater detail: Spencer had been hit from the side by a drunk driver who had entered at the same time as him and who, unfortunately, hadn’t survived. The surgery had been delayed because Spencer had a stab wound to his leg, dangerously close to the femoral artery and at risk of bleeding, as well as multiple pieces of glass buried deep in his torso, which punctured muscle and could damage vessels, nerves, and tendons. He had made the emergency call before falling unconscious and the doctor in front of you emphasized that if it hadn't been for the speed of the report things could have ended worse.

"Right now he is in intensive care, you can come in to see him until he wakes up"

"And how long will that take?"

“It varies from patient to patient. I can't give you an exact answer, but it won't be for another hour or two”

You warmly thanked the doctor for the job done and somewhat disappointed, but definitely calmer, you returned to your seat in the waiting room. You asked if you could stay there the rest of the night even if it wasn't on his side and the woman agreed. A little less upset, you searched in the hospital for a place to prepare coffee and after obtaining a well-charged one you waited again.

At some point you curled up in the chair and after an hour, and the fact that the coffee had no effect on you at all, you had already fallen asleep. Luckily your sleep was light, so you could clearly hear when a new nurse murmured your name and said that she would guide you to where Spencer was, who had woken up a few minutes before. During the walk down the corridor, she warned you that in intensive care only visits of less than an hour were allowed and when you entered the room full of stretchers protected only by curtains, she took you to one almost at the end, indicating that your patient was there.

You didn't go in immediately, because you needed to get some air first to gather the courage to do it, and when you finally did, a sea of feelings flooded you. Spencer looked fatigued and a little pale. His eyelids were closed and if it hadn't been for the heart monitor next door emitting soft, continuous beeps, you would have thought he was already in a better place. 

Carefully you approached a chair right next to the stretcher and once seated there you remained silent for a moment, until you felt the need to hold his hand as a way of comforting yourself, as if you were closer this way. Said action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who, when he slightly opened his eyes, believed that his mind was vilely deceiving him, and a second later your name left his lips as a scratchy and confused whisper.

"Hello" was all you managed to say, holding back the tears that had already pooled on your lashes. "How are you feeling?"

“I feel like everything around me is spinning”

With a little more confidence, and so that he wouldn't strain his eyes, you approached the edge of the bed, still not letting go of his hand.

"The doctor said you really had a bad accident"

"The other man? He is…?"

"Dead" you completed in a whisper, completely admiring your friend's pure spirit that allowed her to worry about who caused him to be there "He was drunk when he hit you and they couldn't do much"

"Oh," was all Spencer said, with a genuine tone of pity. You didn't know what to say, or even what to do, you were just looking at him as closely as possible to reassure yourself that he was okay and with his whole body. Your hand hadn't let go and he seemed comfortable with it.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

"A doctor?"

"To a friend"

"They..." Reid still looked disoriented, as if he couldn't even remember the conditions in which he had the accident, and when he finally got his thoughts together, he looked back at you, "Why are you here?"

“I am your emergency contact”

It took him a moment, again, to process the words. When he was aware of the situation, he closed his eyes tightly as if he had done something terrible, and looked at you with shame.

"I'm so sorry"

"Don't you want me here?"

"What? No! Of course I want you here. It's just that I didn't want to bother you with this, I… I thought I'd change that information when I found a better candidate and I never did, so months went by and I… forgot. Well, I didn't forget, but I didn't want to change it because I didn't think it would be necessary and right now I think I should have discussed it with you and I never did, so I'm sorry. Are you upset?”

“Spencer, relax,” you exhaled gently, rubbing your fingers over the back of his hand “There's no problem staying here, I just want to know if you need me to call someone. They didn't let me stay here for long."

“Call Hotch. I want to let him know that I'm taking a vacation."

It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open continuously, probably from the remaining effects of the anesthesia, so you just nodded and did as he asked. Spencer listened to the entire conversation in which you explained what had happened and even answered some of his boss's questions himself, assuring him that he was as well as he could be after an accident of this magnitude. Aaron also promised that the team would visit him as soon as possible, and he asked you to keep in touch, with an odd familiarity that made you smile.

After finishing the call, you returned to your chair and leaned over to brush his hair off his forehead, taking the opportunity to caress his face carefully. Spencer, still with his eyes closed, smiled at the touch.

“You cut it” you observed “Are you still doing it yourself?”

"Yes, still"

You smiled at him and he smiled back, but neither of you said anything else. There would be time to answer questions later.

Although he seemed to be asleep, he was aware that you were by his side for another long time, and when you said goodbye you promised that you would return there as soon as you could.

The next morning, after taking a shower and calling work that you had an emergency, you kept your promise. Spencer seemed a bit more recovered on this second visit; his color had returned to his cheeks, he was almost sitting on the bed and could basically keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. The doctor had told you that he would stay there for observation for the rest of the day and once he moved to a general room you could be with him for as long as you wanted. For now, you would have to make do with that sixty-minute visit.

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really. But I'm not complaining, it could be worse” he replied, settling better on the bed and wincing.

“I told the doctors no… I asked them not to give you Dilaudid” you confessed, with a bit of fear of his reaction “No type of morphine, in fact. They told me that they could substitute another analgesic, but that you would feel a little more pain than you normally would. Still, I insisted. I hope you don't mind"

“The doctor told me. And I appreciate it,” he murmured sincerely. He couldn't describe the ease he felt when he found out about it, for he had been drug-free for too long to mess it up by carelessness. Luckily, he had you.

"How have you been, by the way?" you shyly exclaimed, taking a step closer to him "I don't mean right now, but... during this time"

"Relatively well" he replied, inviting you with his eyes to sit in the same chair you had been a few hours ago. In doing so you hoped that he would develop a more complete answer than just two words and then he began to relate to you some events significant enough to deserve a mention.

One of the things you'd always loved about Spencer was hearing him talk, whether it was for a minute or an hour. With other people he talked fast, afraid someone would ask him to shut up, but with you he always took his time. In his words there was no sign of spite towards you, even when you thought you deserved it, always showing the beautiful heart that he harbored in that chest.

“I have also been giving conferences more often and that makes me happy. Many of the people there don't understand what I'm talking about, but those who do always come up and ask me questions. Sometimes Emily or Rossi accompany me and other times I go alone. Oh, and I'm taking a PhD."

"Another?" you said surprised, although you didn’t doubt his ability.

"I've been kind of bored, if I'm honest" was his poor explanation from him. You wanted to remind him that no one went into PhDs just because they were bored, but he was a genius you were talking to.

You didn't dare to confess to him that you had been watching some of his labor movements, but just knowing again a little about the things that were happening to him made you feel good.

“Have you been alright?” he continued, looking genuinely interested in hearing your answer.

“I have been able to defend myself, yes. Do you remember when I told you about asking for a promotion? Well, it finally happened a few months ago and the extra money has been doing me good. I have a little more work freedom, too, and I'm considering moving”

“Where do you plan to move to?”

You explained some of the options you had in mind and after hearing each one he helped you learn about some of the pros and cons in terms of costs, services, and security in the area. You would have continued your talk if it hadn't been for a nurse coming in. She was the same one that had received you the night before and you smiled kindly when you recognized her.

"Good morning, how are you feeling, Mr. Reid?" she asked, as she maneuvered to change the IV pole bag.

“Better than yesterday, definitely”

"You don't have to worry, you will recover soon"

"I hope so" he smiled.

“You gave your girlfriend quite a scare, that's for sure,” she teased, nodding her head in your direction.

You tensed at that, and if you had been an ostrich, you would have buried your head in the ground. Spencer watched you from the stretcher with a little smile and answered something you didn't understand to the nurse. They exchanged another couple of sentences until she was gone, saying goodbye cordially to both of you.

"Did she misread the situation or is there something here I'm missing?" he asked you once you were alone, looking genuinely amused.

“Okay, I admit it, maybe I lied a bit last night. I thought they would have more compassion and trust in a girlfriend than an ex-girlfriend" 

"And your real boyfriend isn't going to be upset if you're here taking care of me?"

Ever since you met him you could say that if Spencer lacked a quality, it was subtlety and now he himself was showing it. You knew that there was enough trust for him to tease you like that, but you also knew that asking about your love life was some kind of revenge for having lied to the staff and so you decided to humor him.

"No, he isn’t very jealous to say. On the contrary, he is open-minded and right now we are trying to have an open relationship. You know, I see some people, he sees others, but we still have our thing."

Spencer's previously mocking expression immediately changed upon hearing you say that, having no idea how he would be wise to react. But you couldn't stand it for a long time and you burst out laughing, clarifying between laughs that you were only joking.

“Well, even so, it is likely that at some point in your life you could be in such a relationship, there are even those who think that it is healthy and mature when both people agree”

“It's not quite my style. I prefer safe monogamy or if the guy is very stupid, the sex without commitment for a single night” you laughed slightly.

The deadline for the visit had already expired and with all the sadness you had to say goodbye to him, promising that you would return as soon as he came out of intensive care.

“You've done a lot for me, but it's okay if at some point you're too busy to come, okay? I will understand"

"Don't talk nonsense" you exclaimed firmly, while you leaned down enough to give him a hug without hurting him. Suddenly a new concern invaded you and you felt that you had to ask him a question that you had omitted: "Unless you have a psycho girlfriend who is after my head, do you?"

"Do you think if that was the case, I wouldn't have mentioned it already?" he muttered obviously and now it was your turn to smile.

You didn't want a nurse to come in to get you out of there by force so you took your things and looked at your ex-boyfriend one last time to wave goodbye.

You always thought that when a relationship ended it was because either party had made a serious mistake: “I slept with your best friend”, “my family secretly hates you”, or “it turns out I'm still too in love with my ex to love you”. But when you decided to break up with Spencer, you found that that formula didn't apply to everyone.

Perhaps it was an unfortunate combination of situations, feelings, and problems that led to things simply stopping working overnight. You didn't know how to explain it, none of you, but you guys couldn't even kiss the same way you used to. Your work exhausted you, his work exhausted him, and in the end it was you who decided for both of us that things would be better if everyone took their own path. This isn’t to say that the breakup was less painful, it was just that the hope of being able to have a friendship after it made the grief more bearable. But none of you was able to forget what had happened to pretend to be friends and so, little by little, you stopped seeing each other. Over a year passed with neither of you discussing the silent breakup and, though you and he couldn't have known it, even your respective group of friends suffered a little from the pain of parting from a couple they'd swear would walk down the aisle.

That was why a part of you was guiltily glad that you could see him again and that things weren't at all awkward, like you always imagined they would be. It was your same Spencer, just a little teasing and with less hair, but other than that he had barely changed. He still had those kind eyes that once saw you as if you were the most beautiful person on earth.

You took advantage of the way home in your car to think about everything that was happening to you and for a moment you wondered if with Spencer's recovery all relationship with you would end up withering like a flower with the arrival of autumn or would be reborn as they do in spring. 

"I don't even know why we're playing, we both know you're always going to win" you complained, throwing your pathetic poker hand onto the bed sheet, as he laughed.

The hospital called you when Spencer was admitted to the general ward and you had stayed with him ever since. There was a television in the room, but you knew that he was not a big fan of technological entertainment, so before coming back you decided to take as many things as you needed so that you could kill time; a few books, a deck of cards, a book full of word scrambles and crossword puzzles you'd picked up at a newsstand on the way, and even a blank notebook that could do multiple jobs.

He would stay there for about a week (the doctor explained that it all depended on how fast he healed) and that morning you had gone to talk to your boss at the office to ask her for a couple of days so you could stay with him. You still had a week of vacation available and although he felt extremely guilty you insisted on staying there, after all no one from the BAU could leave their post for that long. In addition, urgent or essential things could be done from home and it was enough to connect for a couple of hours from your laptop to solve them.

Spencer hadn't told you, but he felt comfortable having company during his stay there. Hospitals weren’t his favorite places and having such a familiar presence comforted him.

"I'll let you win once if it makes you feel better"

"If you wanted me to feel better you should have done it without telling me, now I know you were just being silly" you huffed, shuffling the cards with both hands.

"It's all about math, it's really not that complicated"

“Why have you never thought about betting big in casinos? You're from Vegas, you must know a lot. And you could become a millionaire with it."

“It is illegal, in fact, and I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of my card-counting ability. So sorry to disappoint you, but those plans wouldn't work."

“A wasted talent. What a pity” you sighed, starting to hand out a new game.

While you were doing that, a nurse came into the room carrying a tray with food and your friend's eyes sparkled, because being fed intravenously for a day and a half hadn’t been very to his liking. When he put it down in front of you, you noticed that everything looked appetizing considering it was hospital food, and after thanking the man he took the dessert and spread it in your direction.

“You don't like Jell-o anymore?

"Yeah, but I know it's your favorite," he added, shrugging and starting to eat the main course voraciously.

"I'm not going to take advantage of a sick person"

“You aren’t taking advantage. I'm giving it to you" with a smile you put the dessert on the nightstand, ready to return it to him if he wanted it later, and as seeing him eat your own hunger woke you up, you told him you'd go out for a moment to look for something.

You were surprised that across the corridor, at the reception, there was a group of people that you recognized immediately. Morgan was the first to notice you and had to turn twice to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he motioned to Garcia, who was holding a bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and she waved her hand in your direction with a huge smile.

“Are you really who I think you are?” he asked, once they approached you.

"It seems so" you laughed, under the watchful and surprised gaze of almost everyone present.

The team greeted you with hugs, seeming genuinely happy to see you around and asking about the status of your mutual friend. You related all the medical details of the accident, the care they had taken and in the same way you told them that you had been there throughout the entire process.

"And how is he now?"

“He is fine, just a little sore. But the worst is over, the doctor says he will recover soon”

"It's a relief that everything was quick, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if the doctors didn't arrive on time"

"Do you think we can stop by to see him?"

"He'll be delighted, I assure you" you answered happily "He's in room 501, I'll come back to you as soon as I find something to eat"

Everyone thanked you and set out to find the room, except for Aaron who stayed in the hallway so he could talk to you.

"How has everything been?"

"Okay, as far as that goes," you smiled, arms crossed over your chest, "How's Jack?"

"Growing up" was all he said and you didn't need more to know what he meant "I just wanted to tell you that the plan is to stay here for a few hours, in case you want to come home and rest"

Although you didn't often see him, Hotch had always been particularly nice to you when you were the boy's girlfriend, and he had also tried to cheer the man up when he found out about the breakup: he was especially fond of both you and him.

“Oh, thank you very much for that, Aaron. I was going to go get something to eat, but I don't have much of an appetite for fast or canned food, so I could probably eat at home and come back."

"Do what you have to do. We'll be here,” he assured you.

"You're not going to ask Spencer to go back to work, are you?"

"I won't ask him, I'll be lucky if I convince him not to do it" you giggled to see that Spencer was still the same stubborn person as always, and you thought about whether it would be correct to ask your ex-boyfriend's boss a personal question. You had always seen someone strong in him, of course, but he also had a gentle and understanding part.

"He told me that he's been fine, but… has he really been?"

You wanted to hear from someone else how he had been, because you knew that it was likely that the chestnut omitted the bad parts of the story just to not worry you.

"I don't know what can be considered ‘fine' in Reid's life. He has kept up his spirits and as far as I know his mother is doing well. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and even though I've insisted on it, he refuses to see a therapist, but I guess he finds another way to deal with the problems. There have been bad days, but he always gets over it” you felt calm when you heard that and you nodded with a smile.

“He is always like that. It makes me happy that he has you"

"Sometimes he's not that happy" he sighed, probably with some important background for those words "But in the end it's like in all families, right?"

"I think so" you smiled bitterly. He was watching you carefully, trying to read your micro-expressions as much as possible. After all he was a profiler, that was his job. "Then I'll go home quickly and come back as soon as possible, okay?"

“Good luck, drive carefully”

"It was nice to see you again, Hotch."

Spencer hardly even noticed your absence with the bustle of his friends in the room and when you came back you were even wearing other clothes. During their visit you were just a listener to the funny stories everyone seemed to have and from time to time you answered a few polite questions from others.

You talked to them about your plans to stay there daily and you agreed that they would take turns helping you for a couple of hours each, when possible, so you would get some rest as well. Also, most volunteered to replace the amount of blood he had needed in surgery. All the attention had the man a bit dizzy, but still he felt lucky for the people around him.

The days went by and sometimes you smuggled in a snack that wouldn't harm your friend's health so he could eat during the afternoon. You had convinced him to see one or another movie, you had brought some yarn and needles for you to resume knitting lessons that had been forgotten for many years, and in general you could say that you had a good time with him. Chats with Spencer always felt natural so topics of conversation weren't a problem either, as he would be able to recite facts to you from memory as long as you guys didn't get bored.

The doctors came in frequently to check that everything was in order and every time you heard positive responses about the recovery process you felt calm.

You'd come home at night because Spencer insisted on it, but the next morning you'd leave your apartment as early as possible and spend the rest of the day there.

Although you didn't want to admit it, you were more and more convinced that those days by his side became the spark of happiness that your life needed. All the time was only yours and served to recover some of the lost things.

“Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he offered an afternoon and you put aside your occupations to accept the offer. You had gotten him a copy of The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle because you knew he loved that book and that was the one selected for the activity.

Contrary to what many people thought, he was a great speaker and the sound of his voice brought to the surface memories that you thought were lost.

"What are you reading?" you had asked that night, after brushing your teeth and putting on your pajamas. Spencer spent at least 10 minutes reading before going to sleep, enough for him to devour an entire book, or at least a large part of it.

You assumed that his current reading would be something related to a case, but you were surprised to hear the answer.

"Alice in Wonderland"

"Why are you reading Alice in Wonderland?" you asked helpfully, as you slid under the covers into the space next to him and peered over the side.

“My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid and I wanted to reread it. It's a nice story"

"I have never read it. I just watched the movie"

"You are committing a sin. The cinema will never do justice to the original stories.”

"And why don't you read to me a bit?" you asked nicely, followed by a short kiss on the lips "I like listening to you and maybe you will help me fall asleep"

You carefully slipped in until you were comfortably recharged on his chest and when you were ready he complied with your request, beginning with the story he knew by heart.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it…

It became a habit and sometimes you guys wouldn't even finish the books because you always picked another one that seemed interesting, even if it was in a different language because you knew Spencer would translate it for you. It was those kinds of actions that allowed him to feel useful around you and thus show you how much he loved you. 

You had already read that book once, as you were also an enthusiastic Doyle fan, so he felt free to choose one of his favorite chapters. You didn't lie down as comfortably as you used to, but you still enjoyed reading, with a big smile to return to that habit of yours that you loved so much.

In the midst of everything you reflected that, perhaps, the love between you was something that had not completely disappeared, but rather a latent feeling that had now found an opportunity to appear.

Loving meant many things and if you didn't love it then you wouldn't be there at that moment, but somehow repeating an exclusive activity from your time as a couple made you miss that greatly. Spencer hadn't read to anyone else because he knew that was just yours.

This time you didn't fall asleep when he finished the chapter, but you kept looking at him the whole time, afraid that it was just a ghost in your memory that would evaporate in your hands as soon as you dared to touch him.

Luckily he was very real and inside that small hospital room, you could travel to the past as many times as you wanted without being disturbed. And for now, that was enough for you two.

A whole week passed and everything seemed to be going great. That day Spencer had convinced you to watch a Korean movie he had on DVD and you were about to leave when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?" he asked. He could move a little better now and right now his feet dangled to the side of the stretcher, from where he watched you slightly nervous. You didn’t imagine what this behavior was due to.

"Whatever, what do you need?"

"I didn't ask before because... I'm a little embarrassed, to be honest," Spencer wasn't watching you speak and your brow furrowed in obvious confusion at that "But... I asked the nurse if I could take a shower now and she said yes, but I need someone to help me"

Your mouth opened with a soft oh and then you understood why he seemed so shy about the request.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to” he added “I know it can be awkward, I just don't know who else to ask and you know it bothers me so much being so dirty. I hadn't tried it before because it literally hurt to breathe, but now that I feel better I think I really need it and I would really appreciate it if you… you know."

"It’s okay, Spencer," you replied, taking a few steps toward him, "There's nothing in there that I haven't already seen.”

“I will wear underwear, I don't have to be completely naked. You would just have to help me wash… some parts”

“Then why are you making this fuss? Let's give you that shower!" you laughed, sitting down next to him so he put his arm around your shoulders and you could help him up.

He was still having a bit of trouble from the leg injury, but the bathroom wasn't that far away and you managed to guide him there. The shower was surrounded by a plastic curtain, with a proper chair for patients and a hose with a shower head at the end. You helped Spencer into the chair and while you recovered from the effort you took a look around; there were some toiletries on a shelf that would surely do for him, and a white towel as well.

“Morgan brought me some new clothes and the nurse said we could ask the store manager for a gown,” he muttered, before you started doing anything. You took off your shoes and left them nestled to one side, always feeling his gaze following you.

When you noticed that he didn't take his eyes off you and was just there, sitting, you spoke:

“Should I help you take off your gown or do you take it off yourself?” there was amusement in your words and Spencer, as if taken from a trance, hastened to find the knot of the garment for himself. He was already wearing his underpants below and it only took him to get rid of the material so that he was half naked.

You hadn't seen his wounds until that moment and you couldn't help but wrinkle your face imagining the pain he must have felt. His stitches were still there but they were already healing and he would have at least four scars, plus one twice the size on the leg opposite where he had taken a bullet; that added up to five marks adorning his body. He was never an athletic person, but since he wasn't a very keen eater either he was able to keep himself in shape. Personally, you had always been attracted to him in every possible way, so his physique was never something that bothered you: thin, muscular, with some paunch, you were going to like him no matter how he was.

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare at me?” he countered, looking down at you with that expression you knew was the boldest thing he could get, and you snorted a laugh.

"Shut up"

You stretched to reach the shower head to warm the water, not wanting him to catch a cold and knowing that a warm shower would make him feel better because it would relax his muscles. Once it was at the right temperature, you wet his hair a bit and took shampoo in your hands to wash his head. He gave a barely audible moan as you began to massage his scalp and closed his eyes so he could enjoy your touch. Once you were done there you took a sponge and started cleaning his shoulders, torso, and back, trying to be as careful as possible. Sometimes you even let your fingers slip through the side of the sponge to touch his slightly tanned skin, as smooth as it had always been, while you gazed at those moles you'd kissed so many times. The first time you had sex with him, as you watched him in the twilight after the act, you had tried to study every part you could, from the little freckles on his back to the birthmark on his leg, and right now you felt like crying to see those little things about him again.

You were enjoying treating him like this so much and not to mention Spencer, who felt like he was in heaven to feel you so close to him. He could smell your perfume, a little worn, but still present after the whole day and from time to time he dared to look up to meet your face. And every time he looked at you, he remembered why he thought you were the most beautiful woman of all.

"You didn't have to give me the whole shower, you know?" he joked at some point, when you lovingly washed his hands “I just wanted you to help me with the parts I couldn't reach. But honestly, I'm not complaining about this."

Of course the two of you had ever taken a shower together, but it had never been anything like this. They were always things to optimize time, like when you were short of time to go to work or too tired to shower separately. This act was something different, something more private and delicate; it was too domestic. You were taking care of him and at the same time enjoying seeing him in such a docile position, peeking at you from time to time.

"I'm just doing an old friend a favor" you answered with a smile, although when you heard the words out loud it immediately faded.

An old friend. Was that what you were now? 

The place was silent for a moment, with only the sound of water dripping on the white tile floor.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His question had taken you by surprise and you remained silent before answering, trying to figure out what relation the question had to the situation. From the way he'd said it, you almost thought it was one of those things that burned in his chest and he'd needed to exhale.

"Yes, sometimes" you finally answered. He seemed satisfied with the answer "And you?"

"Many times," he laughed, a bit of guilt tinging his words.

A part of you wondered what he was trying to tell you with that: was it a confession… or a declaration? Ending the relationship had been imminent, and if you hadn’t done it that day you could have done it months or even weeks later, however, you weren’t going to lie in saying that you weren’t tormented by the thought of what would have happened if you had tried just a little longer. And that was accompanied, of course, by a tremendous feeling of nostalgia. You wanted to correct your answer and tell him that you had actually missed him terribly, all along, but you couldn't bring yourself to. And he, who couldn't read your mind, thought that he had simply bothered you with an out-of-place comment. 

"You can rinse off while I get a new gown, what do you say?"

Spencer nodded at the idea and then you walked out of there, your cheeks feeling strangely hot. What was happening to you? Did you still have feelings for him?

Maybe the real question was, have you ever stopped feeling something for him? 

It didn't take you long to get what you needed and you came back to find it wrapped in the towel. After he got dressed, you maneuvered in the same way to help him out, although now with the added problem of the slippery floor, and before long he was lying back on the bed.

"I feel much better now" he smiled at you. From the bedroom window you could see the night sky and then you realized how long it took you to shower.

"Do you want me to do something else?"

Your curt response wasn't because he deserved it, but because you were too confused to stay there any longer.

“No, everything's fine. Thank you very much for this”

"You're welcome" you smiled.

"Well... I guess you'll want to go now”

You still knew Spencer too well to know that that slight frown between his brows was a sure sign of concern, and you felt bad for speaking to him in the way you had. To atone a bit for your guilt, you approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his body in a hug.

His body still felt warm and comfortable and just as if it had been made to fit yours. His arms held you firmly when he was finally able to react and you felt his chest deflate a little, as if he wanted to give you more space to feel close.

Time passed so slowly that you didn't even know how long you stayed in that position, just enjoying the closeness and his gentle hands rubbing your back.

"I like how you smell" you exclaimed in a low voice, fearing to break the tranquility of the moment and you felt his chest vibrate with a laugh.

“Did you know that your sense of smell is directly linked to the attraction you feel for a person? Your nose captures the pheromones that the opposite body secretes and if it considers it a good candidate to mate then it is pleasant”

"I think it's just the shampoo," you laughed. You turned your head up a bit and Spencer, by inertia, turned down to meet your gaze. "Although I wouldn't need to sniff you to know if I wanted to mate with you”

The joke had been so natural that you didn't measure the weight of the words until they left your mouth, and the worst thing was that the position you were in hadn’t been the most appropriate. You could feel his breath mixing with yours and it was enough to get a little closer to melt your lips in a kiss.

You had put yourself in that situation, as if your body was unconsciously looking for his own, and Spencer hadn't refused at any time. Just like how no one had forced you to stay with him all this time and you still had.

Your boss had been too permissive with the situation during that time, but you were sure that she would no longer be so if more time passed, so you would have to return to the office the next morning. And Spencer had at most two more days before the doctor released him.

And what difference did it make if you kissed him at that moment? Would you ever get a chance to do that again? You didn't have to think about it too much, because he was the one who started closing the distance; an inch, then another, until you felt your lips brush against each other. And he would have kissed you if it hadn't been for the unwelcome ringing of a cell phone that made you jump away.

"It's... yours" you stammered, handing him the old artifact that announced Penélope García's contact calling him.

While he was having a conversation, you didn't even look at him, but started packing your things spread out around the room so you could get out of there as quickly as possible. You could tell by the rush in the man's words that he could read your intentions and wished he could talk to you before you left.

"Everything's good. Thanks for calling, Garcia. Yeah, I love you too. Bye”

"Look the hour! I have to go, I'll go back to work tomorrow and I want to have everything in order" you said as soon as he hung up the call, waving your hands in the air as you spoke as a sign of your nervousness "I'll try to come back tomorrow, but... I don't know if work let me"

“Okay, you've already done too much. I'm fine now,” he assured you, giving a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile. Even though you wanted to say something the words didn't come out of your mouth, so you just raised your hand to say goodbye and then you rushed out of there.

All the way home your mind was busy processing the feelings that almost kiss had evoked in you and, to be honest, they all ended in the same thing: the wish that he had cut the distance completely. That desire followed you when you showered, when you went to sleep, when you woke up, and all through the workday the next day. Minute after minute your mind could only think about him and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted by that call.

As you had feared, you didn’t have time to visit him at night and since you didn’t find the courage to call him personally, you only asked the hospital to pass on the message. You intended to see him a day after that, figuring that the matter would have been forgotten, but your plans were thwarted when Spencer called you to say that they had just authorized his medical discharge. He sounded calm and, of course, happy, when he told you that an ambulance was going to take him to his apartment.

"That's wonderful" you answered honestly. You were sitting at your work desk sorting out some documents, so you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. For all. I… I don't know what he would have done without you here. And you didn't have to, but you still did it. So, thanks"

"I already told you before, you don't have to thank me for anything"

"But I'd still like to," he murmured firmly, "Would you let me buy you dinner sometime?"

You were silent for a second, honestly confused by what he was asking. I mean, you knew what he was inviting you to, but you didn't know why. 

"Dinner?"

“Well, it's the least I can do for you. I have to use crutches for a while again, so we couldn't go out to a fancy restaurant or anything. It would just be us in my apartment, do you still like Italian food? Rossi taught me a great recipe and I think I cook decent enough.”

“Ah… yes, I would love to” you stammered. You thought that after his recovery you would not speak again and things would return to how they were before; but apparently Spencer had other plans.

"How about Saturday?"

“Sounds perfect to me” you breathed out, still a bit surprised and quite nervous about the proposal you just received. Even if it was merely friendly, you were happy to know that he still wanted your company.

Perhaps you had been too hard on him and on yourself by not allowing things to just follow their natural flow, holding onto the misconception that you and Spencer Reid no longer had romantic feelings for each other.

"I'll meet you here then, do you still remember how to get there?"

“If you have the same address, then I still do it”

"Good. I was just calling to ask you that. I guess you're busy working."

"Only a little"

"Well, I'll let you do it. Thanks for accepting"

"Thank you for inviting me"

You guys were silent for a moment and you wondered if Spencer was smiling the same way you were.

"Bye," he said kindly and after saying goodbye you hung up.

You were left smiling like a fool at the idea that your first date in a long time would be with the only man who years ago had been capable of stealing your heart and after taking a few minutes to process it you went back to your work, but not before pointing with circle the date on your calendar, like a teenager in love.

When the day finally came you made sure to look for a nice outfit before your dinner with him, holding yourself back from looking too excited. You rarely wore dresses but, if your memory serves you, he really liked how you looked in them, so you made sure to look for one that would accentuate your figure and make you look more youthful. You carefully combed your hair, put on just a little makeup, and came on your way to buy a bottle of wine. You still remembered the information that he had told you about which wines were best suited for each meal and although you still didn’t know about dinner, you brought a bottle that it presumed to be Italian.

When you reached number 23 on the second floor, you knocked on the door and after hearing a couple of noises, he finally appeared in front of you.

"Hey!" he greeted you happily. He was using his old crutches, had shaved off the facial hair that had appeared during his hospital stay, and was wearing a black apron with white lettering, which Garcia had surely given him, and which read: Kiss the cook. Please I'm very lonely “Come in, come in” 

"How are you?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m okay, dinner is almost ready. I had technical complications because I didn't consider that cooking with crutches is more difficult than doing it without them, so I just hope it tastes good" he complained, moving deftly through the apartment to the kitchen "Sit down, I'll join you in a moment"

When he got lost in the kitchen you took the opportunity to take a look at the place. He kept having piles of books both on the shelves and stacked on the floor, on his desk, next to the chair. There were a couple of new artworks on the green wall along with the ones you'd helped him choose in the past, and picture frames everywhere: him with his mom, several with his co-workers (old and new). and you were surprised to see that even you had a space. The frame was smaller than the others, maybe to make it more discreet, but it was carefully arranged on the shelf that, by chance, or perhaps not, contained many of the books that you had given him.

"Do you need help with something?" you half screamed, hearing the crash of some pots and he denied in the same way. The air smelled delicious and your stomach rumbled with anticipation. After a few minutes Spencer was with you, both sitting in the brown leather chair where you had spent so many afternoons together.

“You just have to wait for it to cool down a bit and we can have dinner”

"I brought a wine" you murmured as you handed him the bottle. He examined it and congratulated you on your choice, telling you that it would go perfectly with the pasta he had prepared. "Are you still taking any medication?"

"Not anymore. The doctor prescribed me some things for the pain, but… I'm not taking them” he said, with a guilty smile on his face “I like your dress, by the way”

Hearing this, a satisfied smile spread across your face and you modestly thanked him for the compliment.

As he said, dinner was ready in a few minutes and you accompanied him to the dining room to serve a couple of dishes. Spencer seemed to have put an effort into everything, as he looked really exquisite and you didn't hesitate to compliment him on it even before trying it on. Dinner remained pleasant, with a couple of laughs, jokes and a flirtatious look that sometimes you weren't even aware of. Now that he had gotten rid of the apron, you could see that he was wearing a purple button-down shirt that you had always liked on him, because it fit in all the right places to make him look gorgeous. Besides, that color had always favored him.

Once you were finished, you offered him a drink of wine and he agreed, listing the digestive benefits the drink had for you. He asked if you wanted to go into the living room to be more comfortable and then both of you walked to the rickety chair, taking the bottle with you. Within a very short time the liquid in it was almost completely finished and both he and you became gigglier.

Unfortunately for you, with the laughter that came, your self-control also left. Every time he spoke you couldn't help but let your gaze slide to his lips, a little to be able to correctly understand the words that came out of it and another little just to be able to appreciate the pink color they had; they still looked soft, and you wondered if they would feel soft. 

You didn't know Spencer was aware of the struggle you had inside of you, as he kept talking, laughing, and just looking so handsome while you fell apart. After a couple of minutes, you couldn't resist it anymore. Your body was vibrating with the desire to have him, maybe because of the alcohol in your blood or maybe because he looked strangely attractive when he rambled on about his PhD research.

“Spencer” you stopped him suddenly. He looked at you with a hint of concern for having overwhelmed or bored you with his talk about him and you thought he couldn't look cuter that way.

"What's wrong?" he started to say, but the question was drowned out by your lips trapping his.

You kissed him fast but deep and all the weight of guilt fell on your shoulders when you looked at his reaction; he kept not looking at any specific point and breathing heavily through his mouth, totally petrified by what you just did.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that" you stammered. You regretted it just because you made him uncomfortable, not because you didn't want to kiss him “I messed it up, didn't I? Are you mad at me?" you wanted to know, panicked, but now it was your words that were cut off by a kiss.

He wasted no time and taking advantage of your shock one of his hands came up to hold your cheek, while he leaned more in your direction. His lips tasted of wine and nostalgia, they tasted of an overflowing love that you had finally agreed to continue feeling for each other.

He kissed you so hungrily that he was making you completely dizzy and you only separated when it was absolutely necessary to breathe, repeating kiss after kiss. He lowered his other hand to your waist to try to get you closer and you, reflexively, climbed onto his lap. It was then that you guys really looked at each other; wet lips, messy hair, hot pink painted cheeks and completely agitated breathing.

"Uh, I..."

"It was too much?" you said fearful. His hands had automatically gone up to your waist, since that position was already quite familiar to him, and yours were on his shoulders.

"No, no. I mean… only if this is okay with you”

You could have told him you were sorry, but that would be a lie. You loved being so close to him, you loved that you finally had your courage, and you loved that he cared about what you wanted. And you were going to tell him, that's for sure.

"I am telling you the truth?" you gasped, carefully holding his face to force him to look you straight in the eye. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen: "Right now all I can think about is how much I need you"

No more words were needed for what happened next. You melted into a kiss again and when you pressed your hip against his, he sighed against your mouth, feeling his crotch suffer the consequences of the heated kisses you were giving him. For a moment he wanted to feel sorry, but he knew better than anyone that you already knew perfectly every inch of his body and from the smile he felt on his lips he suspected that you were enjoying the heat in that area more than you should. It was satisfying to see that you still had that kind of power over him, where you barely touched him and he was already a mess. But you couldn't speak more highly of yourself, because when his hands went to your hips you felt like putty between his fingers.

"You want to…?" he started to say, but your insistence on kissing him barely left him thinking "Do you want us to go to my room?"

Spencer was afraid he was going too fast and scaring you with it, but he couldn't find another way to interpret the result of what you were doing. He just wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah, I think so" you answered in a whisper.

You got up from your seat and took his hand intending to help him up, until the crutches next to the sofa reminded you of the man's physical condition. Spencer looked at the hesitation in your eyes, but he didn't give you time to back down, because in one quick movement he was on his feet and crossing to the door that led to his room, ignoring any kind of pain he might feel.

Once there, he sat on the bed and pulled you towards him to continue kissing you. None of you bothered to turn on the light to continue what you were doing. You thought the position might strain him so you gently and carefully pushed him back to lay him flat on the bed. This allowed him to better knead the soft meat on your thighs and you rewarded him with enthusiastic kisses on his neck.

You separated a little until you were sitting on his hip and then you undid the buttons of his shirt. You made sure to gently kiss the wounds he had made and Spencer just sighed with each touch of your lips. A little needy to kiss you, he also stretched out his hands to your dress, asking with his eyes for your consent to lower the zipper and get rid of it.

The dress was left tossed somewhere in the room and you leaned in just enough for him to smear kisses down your shoulders and across your chest. You could tell that he was taking his time and that only increased your desire to have him, to feel him inside you and make you his as he had done so many times.

  “Y/N” he whispered against your mouth and you just hummed a nod “Darling, can you help me take off my pants?”

The nickname had come so naturally from his lips and had sounded so delicious that you had to suppress a groan. He called you that all the time, he was a very vocal man and it wasn't uncommon to hear him say those kinds of things. Both in bed and out of it. 

You did exactly what he asked and you took the opportunity to slowly pass your hand over the bulge in his crotch, hearing him let out the first moan of the night.

“Hey, do you have a… uh, some protection?” you asked timidly. You loved him and trusted him, but a baby wasn’t what you needed; at least not at that time.

"In the usual drawer"

As if no time had passed, you rummaged with your hand in the left side of the second drawer in the nightstand, until you found what you were looking for. Sudden and unwarranted jealousy swept over you as you wondered if he had invited other women to spend the night and if those others could find things as naturally as you had. No one knew Spencer as you did, you were sure of it, because he wasn't a man who opened up easily to others. And no matter how many people had passed through your life, no one would understand you as much as he did. 

Once you put the condom on, you took the opportunity to pump it up and down with your hand and the man's whining made you realize that he had really missed you. Both of you were trembling with anticipation, so with one movement you discarded your missing items and climbed back into his lap. Still a little fearful you looked at him and even in the middle of the darkness you realized the loving eyes on you.

“If it hurts just tell me and I'll stop. I know you're still delicate and I don't want to hurt you.”

"You would never hurt me" he answered and although you wanted to believe that they were limited to his injuries from the accident, you knew that it wasn’t so.

Those words carried more weight than you thought. They were a vote of confidence that he gave you over your entire person, not only his physical condition, but also his feelings and desires.

When you became one you groaned in unison and took a moment to get used to each other again. Your movements became soft, constant, and deep and he, unable to do more, just enjoyed that feeling.

After a few minutes, things went beyond the physical plane you were on; you realized that no one, ever, could make you feel what he did. You felt complete, whole and loved. You loved to hear everything that came out of his mouth and respond with an even more obscene sound. You loved that he knew the right points to touch and when to do it, you loved that he looked for your kisses in the middle of the act and you loved that being with him everything became so passionate and intimate. At that moment it was just him and you, no one else. As it always should have been.

After a while both bodies were already covered by a fine layer of sweat and your hands, small compared to his, leaned on his biceps to be able to move better against him.

"I missed this so much" you confessed, your voice muffled by uncontrollable moans "I missed you so much, you don't know how much I did"

He wanted to answer you, but the truth was that for the first time he had run out of words. He could only feel your body pressed against his and your boobs bouncing with each thrust.

There were certain gestures, movements, and sounds that told Spencer when you were about to arrive, so when he heard your erratic breathing and sensed your hesitation, he placed both hands on your hips to help you keep up.

At some point you felt the knot in your belly forming and you just let yourself be guided by it, anxious to feel the ecstasy exploding in you. It was enough to feel your walls pressing against him, your loud moans and a couple more pushes for Spencer to reach his own orgasm, wishing that the hot liquid had filled you instead of the barrier that protected you.

Your body fell against his, completely surrendered, and you felt his chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath. One of his arms, still clad in his shirt, slid around your waist and his lips groped for your forehead to place a small kiss. You were exhausted, but at the same time overflowing with joy, and he shed a single tear. Maybe because he had had a good orgasm in a long time or maybe because of the overwhelming reality that you had just made love to him.

For a few minutes you stayed like that, so peaceful and calm that you feared falling asleep in his arms.

“Y/N” he whispered, your name slipping from his lips so softly you thought you misheard.

"Yeah?" you inquired in a whisper. You two had always liked to talk for a bit after the sex rush wore off, as a way to keep things romantic.

"Risking to ruin the moment, can I ask you something?" he murmured and you rearranged yourself to face him to watch him. He looked so handsome, with dilated pupils and a flushed face, that you thought you might take him again right then.

"Whatever you want," you replied, gently brushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweaty face. You were drunk with love, he could have asked you to lower the moon and you would have done it without hesitation.

"What did this mean to you?" he added cautiously. You knew better than anyone that Spencer needed a certain security in things as well as people. The question would come eventually, though you thought you would have more time to think of an answer that would suffice. “It's okay if you say you just felt like doing it or that it was something that happened in the moment, I understand. I just... I don't want to get the wrong idea."

“And what would that wrong idea be?” you asked curiously. Suddenly he had become shy and just avoided your gaze without knowing how to respond to that, but you took him by the chin to force him to pay attention to you "Spence?"

“I don't want to have any illusions about you. If you don't see something in the future with me, that's fine, but at least I'd like to know."

They were not aggressive or demanding accusations; they were just sincere words with which he sought to protect his heart.

"I honestly don't know what's going to happen to us," you replied. A disappointed expression came over his face and you took him by surprise when you reached up a bit to kiss him again, but this time reassuringly and gently "But today I realized that you are perfect for me, in all the senses. And that I can never love someone like I love you. Does that answer your question?"

“I guess I feel the same way” he replied, but this time he was smiling slightly “And I know that we should have ended a long time ago, but… if your heart agrees, I think I'd like to start over. We were both in a bad situation back then, but now things could be different."

And of course they were going to be, because a part of you was convinced. You loved him, you had admitted it, and you knew he felt the same way about you. That was enough.

"I guess you're right. As always, Dr. Reid” you laughed, hearing his melodious laughter as well.

"For once, that makes me happy" he confessed and almost a second after that you heard him let out a weak moan that made you aware that you were pressing your chest against his still-fresh scars.

But to be honest, any previous signs of pain had been dwarfed by the pleasure of your body grinding against his.

"Maybe I should move" you apologized, but when you tried to, he didn't let you, instead tightening his grip on his arm against you.

"Don't do it” he begged you "Stay here just a little while longer"

For him, you could stay your whole life if he asked you to. Now you were sure of that. He was sure of that.

And now that you two had it back, you weren't going to let it go.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[wosoamazing]

Different but not weird

McFoord x Child!R

Everything in italics is sign language.

Warnings: Mention of premature birth (corrected ages - nothing in depth), hearing loss, cochlear implants A/N: Not proof read properly and this is probably boring but yeah, hope you like it. (Also thank you to @alotofpockets for the help in coming up with an idea for this fic)

You were still in the NICU when Katie and Caitlin adopted you, having signed up for fostering to adopt just days before they met you. When the phone call began with “We know it may not be what you’re looking for and it might be a lot to take on,” they were hesitant, agreeing to just meet you and not agreeing to anything yet, wanting to see you and talk to the doctors and nurses to get more of a background on you. However you stole their hearts when they met you and they decided on that day they were going to adopt you. You were very small and spent quite some time in the NICU after they signed up to foster you. There were some concerns over your hearing during your time in the NICU, you had failed your AOAE and all subsequent tests. They thought it was possible it was because you were a premie and that maybe it would improve, however it didn’t, it stayed the same. So at 6 months (corrected age) you underwent surgery to have cochlear implants placed, before undergoing speech therapy.

“Ears” your Mum asked as you furiously shook your head, “Where did you put them?” she sighed. The most expensive item you owned by far was ‘lost’ somewhere on camp. 

“Looking for these?” One of the physios said as she walked up behind Caitlin, causing your Mum to jump slightly, “Oh story didn’t mean to scare you. She handed them to me during training and told me to hold onto them, and not lose them because you would get mad,”

“Thank you,” you Mum sighed as she took them, you were at an age now where you had started realising you were different. You had noticed how the other kids didn’t have to wear things on the back of their ears, with wires that connected to magnets that stuck on their head, and your Mum had a slight suspicion that another kid at preschool had said something to you about them.

“Why don’t you want to wear your ears?” Your Mum asked you as she sat down next to you, you were now sitting at the small table in the empty common room as you coloured in.

“Weird,” you replied.

“Do you think they make you weird?” she questioned further, and you nodded, “why do you think that? Because they definitely don’t,” you just looked at her blankly, “Did someone at school say something?” you nodded your head at her slightly, before grabbing your ears to put them back on.

“Said it was weird I had magnets on my head, started to stick things to them when I didn’t have my ears on,” you told her.

“That’s not right, did you tell your teacher? He shouldn’t have done that, next time anyone says something hurtful about your ears you need to tell one of your teachers or at least me or Ma okay,” you nodded, “and you absolutely need to tell a trusted adult when someone is touching your body without your permission and in ways that make you feel uncomfortable okay?” she told you with a sterner voice this time, causing some tears to fall from your eyes, “hey chook, you have no reason to be upset, you’ve done nothing wrong, do you want to have an ear break for the rest of the day? You can put them back on whenever you want, but you can absolutely take them out if you want to, like you always can, you just need to make sure you tell me or Ma when you do so,” you nodded before taking the magnets off your head and handing them to your Mum.

_____

“Hey, y/n/n, how is my best buddy going?” Macca exclaimed as she entered the common room, before looking at Caitlin when you didn’t respond, your Mum had done individual training today so they hadn’t seen you yet.

“She can't hear you,” your Mum sighed.

“Oh, is there something going on?” the goalkeeper asked as she sat down next to your MUm, sensing her worry.

“A kid at her preschool told her she was weird because she had magnets stuck to her head, and then apparently when she hasn’t been wearing her implants, he has been sticking things to her head. I am just honestly so mad that the school hasn’t noticed the fact someone is doing this to her, but also that they clearly haven’t properly explained to the kids what they are and how they help even though they told us they would. I just don’t know what to do, I can't force her to wear them but when so few people can communicate with her at things like tomorrow if she doesn’t wear them, I almost have to make her wear them.”

“What if I spoke to her, showed her that I have things to help me hear too. Would that help?” 

“Maybe, are you sure though?” “Of course Cait, I’m here to help, and this is something I would love to help her with, it took me a while to be comfortable with it and so I can’t imagine what it’s like as a kid finding your sense of self and with kids teasing you,”

“Is it alright if I call Katie while you talk to her? I need to tell her,” 

“Of course, I’ve got chook, don’t worry.”

“Katie, do you have time to talk? It’s important,”

“Of course Cait, just give me a sec and I’ll go up to my room. How was training today?”

“Yeah good, it was just me, just as a precaution but yeah,”

“Okay, I’m in my room now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“We need to move y/n preschools and have a serious conversation with our current preschool. She took her ears off during training and when I asked why she didn’t want to wear them she told me they are weird. Some kid at preschool has said she is weird for having magnets on her head and he has been sticking things to her head when she hasn’t had her ears on,”

“What, no that's wrong, we’re moving her and putting in a complaint, how haven't they seen it happen, they surely can’t be supervising correctly.” Katie paused, “Shit, Cait, I’m so fucking sorry, I need to go, I forgot we had an extra team meeting today. But I promise you, we will talk this through further and we will fix this for her.” Katie said before she hung up and proceeded to message Steph to see if she could check on Caitlin.

“Mummy, did you know Macca has hearing aids! She’s so cool, does that mean I’m cool?” you asked as you saw Steph and your Mum enter the room.

“You are always cool chook. No matter what anyone else thinks. You will always be cool and amazing and perfect,” She told you as she picked you up.“I’m sorry for not telling you and Ma and for making you worried and upset. I promise I’ll tell you next time.” “It’s okay chook. I love you so much, never forget that.” She told you as she held you slightly tighter and you buried your head in her neck.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Hey guys..... it's your favorite 'Vixen' back again after a very long hiatus..... Surprise! I detransitioned! And I might have packed on a pound or two. 😅 So, for those who guessed the girl I started dating was a TERF, you get the grand prize, I guess! She was so pretty and had an affinity for school uniforms.... so I swiped right. I messaged her and she told me she thought I was beautiful, that we should meet up for drinks, and that my breasts looked absolutely mouth watering. I thanked her, thinking little of it at the time, and got super excited to meet with her.

We met up, and she was wearing one of her uniforms, straight up to our date! I complimented her, she told me her name was Miranda, and I told her mine was Virago. She smiled and said it sounds exotic. She looked so naughty, I shifted nervously in place, recrossing my legs. She eyed me up and down and asked if I was actually a boy pretending to be a girl. I denied it, but then she laughed and told me she knew I was fidgeting because I had a hard on. That she loved dressing in kinky outfits girls wear in porn and hentais because it always attracts perverted men like me. Hearing her say these things made me even harder, I couldn't contain myself, I started rubbing my crotch. She laughed again, telling the waiter to address me as he/him and sir, that I can barely control my raging hard on. I blushed, and the waiter smiled and said that I don't look much like a real girl anyway, and he was only calling me she/her to be polite.

I couldn't handle it. I jerked off under the table as my breasts bounced out of my top. Onlookers watched and pointed, snickering as I pumped and pumped until I came on the floor. Miranda was elated, cheering me on, calling me a disgusting, gooner boy addicted to porn. She told me as I tried to clean up that I don't get a reduction because my ideas about women are all fueled by porn, so I flaunt my boobs online and give into male fantasies. She told me she wanted to 'correct' me, and turn me into the man I'm supposed to be.... starting with my boobs.....

I got top surgery the very next week, although now I'm basically growing tits all over again. I edge all day but only Miranda tells me when I'm allowed to cum, which is pure agony for such a perverted gooner like me. All I do is eat and watch porn. When I went to the doctor and told him I want to go on T and detrans he just smiled and said he knew I'd come to my senses sooner or later, that most of the big-breasted, ultra oversexed, beautiful trans girls he had as patients were all detransing for one reason or another. I told him 'Good' as he filled out my new scripts..... But Miranda ensured I wouldn't be some sexy, athletic guy. No, I had to be punished. She feeds me over 12K calories a day. I'm almost 400lbs in just a couple years and Miranda is as addicted to feeding me as I am to eating and jerking off. She tells me perverted guys like me deserve to all become fat, disgusting pigs so the whole world knows how gross we really are. She loves berating me in public, calling me useless, a cow, a pig, a slob, shouting at me that all I do is watch porn and stroke my little cock. I can hardly remember being 'Virago' or having such a sexy body. I live only to be Miranda's hog boyfriend who going to get fatter and fatter, until I can't leave the house or even bathe anymore....."

[hedwig221b]

Hi could u pls suggest a pic where derek or Stiles gets injured and the other takes care of them?

Ah, yes, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, the top tier duo...

Holy Injuries, Batman! by LadyDrace

Stiles gets hurt. Badly. Getting better turns out to be more of a process than anyone expected, and there are a few surprises along the way.

Leave It All Behind by asarcasticwitch

A coil of panic tightens in his chest as, after just three short rings, Derek’s voice—raspy as if barely awake—echoes through the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbles, and at any other time, Stiles would’ve made a joke or retorted with something so sarcastic it would’ve undoubtedly earned him a huff in return. But right now, he can’t think of anything to say.

Our Days Are Numbered by tylerfucklin

They didn't know, not until it was too late. The damage was done; the scars and broken bones made, and the nightmares endless. No amount of corrective surgeries and physical therapy would take away what had happened to Stiles that day.

Beltane by DevilDoll

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

The Bite by LeeHan

The first time Stiles was offered the bite, he said no, but the universe only gave him the courtesy of asking so many times. When the inevitability of the bite catches up with him, Stiles has to face his new nature. Luckily, he has Derek by his side every step of the way.

Surrounded and up against a wall, I’ll shred ‘em all (and go with you) by Gorgeousgreymatter

Stiles hates hospitals. He’s always hated hospitals. Well, not always (who likes them, anyway?), but since her. Since before -- and now just the thought of them makes him want to retch, gives him that crawling-out-his-skin feeling that makes him want to peel it all off with his fingernails. Which he should really stop biting, he muses, wincing as he tears a hangnail off with a rabid flash of teeth.

Although, technically this wasn’t exactly a hospital. Not for humans anyway. But whatever, Stiles thinks, veterinary hospitals still counted. At least as long as Derek was in that back room screaming like he’s dying, because maybe he is.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

I will stand with you by Taigrin

John Stilinski comes home to find Stiles and Derek passed out on the couch pretty much after telling his son to stay away from the werewolf.

Or the one with family Stilinski feels mixed up with angst and a hurt alfa.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | mafia | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[cod-dump]

For the teen!Ghost au, has there ever been a time where Price hasn’t come home? A mission gone badly and he gets injured? Maybe Nik has to handle the fort for a little while on his own because Price is trapped in the hospital?

(Also Roach is a precious bby)

———

John getting hurt bad enough he had to go straight to the hospital. He was unconscious or just unable to call home to tell Nik or the kids that he won’t be coming home that night. So Kate has to call, and she didn’t know enough to know that John would be fine after a minor surgery to correct whatever injury he obtained.

She calls Nik and tells him that John was in the hospital after a mission with south, and that she doesn’t know much about the situation or his condition. It was enough to make Nik’s blood run cold and him to be near hysterics. But Nik’s a professional and he was able to keep a mask up and keep the truth from the kids.

But they knew something was wrong. Dad wasn’t home when he was supposed to be, they hadn’t heard anything from him and Nik was being too quiet. The fact he wasn’t acting worried made them worry.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s held up at work. He’s not sure when he’ll be home.”

Nik never felt so much anxiety before, especially in the comfort of his own home. All it took was a phone call and now he felt so out of control. The hospital where John was hadn’t been disclosed with him, Kate hasn’t called and gave him any updates. For all he knew John was dead. And there wasn’t nothing he could do but stay home and care for the kids and animals.

There was nothing else he could do.

Simon and Kyle were not handling this well. Of course they knew something was wrong. They’ve always been anxious boys, and now their dad was missing. Farah was harder to read but Nik could tell this was affecting her as well. She was worried, scared. She was good at hiding how she felt, but he could see her fidget and watch her phone, waiting for a phone call from John.

They were all torn up about this, terrified of what the next call will bring. Nik couldn’t sleep for those two days of silence. He just laid in bed or just rested on the couch, hoping the front door would open and John would come in. He couldn’t speak on the subject with the kids, and he knew that made everything worse.

Kate finally stopped by when the boys were at school and Farah was at work. Nik had to do everything he could to keep himself calm when she walked up the driveway and to their door. He was expecting the worst, he was expecting having to tell the kids the worst thing he could imagine. Having to handle paperwork to become the boys’ legal guardian. Fuck- Pull strings to make it where they stayed with him if that wasn’t possible.

He was expecting the worst and it showed. And Kate blinked when she noticed the stress practically radiating off of him.

“God- He’s fine, Nik.”

Nik felt relief flood him, tears wanting to spill. Then he yelled.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

“Don’t you dare yell at me! This has been the most hellish week of my life! I’ve been having to clean up John’s mess and practically live at my office, not having a moment without someone calling me- Are you crying?”

He did start crying. And Kate had him sit down and coached him through what had to be his first panic attack in years. And once he was calm she was able to explain everything that had happened and where John had been. Both him and Kate had been practically isolated after their intel went sour.

John, having been the most hands on in it, was put through debriefings, meetings, and picked apart by his superiors the moment he came out of surgery. He wasn’t allowed to call anyone until SAS was sure he had nothing to do with everything going wrong at once.

“He’s coming home tonight. He asked me to check on you before I headed home.”

Nik felt stress and relief flow intertwined, his heart pulling every which way. John was coming home, and he wanted to strangle him for making him worry. He didn’t strangle him when he saw him get dropped off. Nik instead swung the front door open before he even made it onto the porch and grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. John squawked when he was grabbed but didn’t fight him, just slumped against him, exhausted.

“Missed ya, too,” he had muttered against his shoulder. John could have easily fallen asleep right there, in Nik’s arms.

He wouldn’t get a chance to, however. Once Riley started barking, the house came alive and John wouldn’t know peace for the next few weeks. A small price to pay for the worry he had put his family through.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.

AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)

Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))

Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.

Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.

While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.

"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"

My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.

My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)

And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality

(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)

Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).

Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.

Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

To see later: PINK PANTHER

What are these acronyms?

[immoralkombat]

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

[adventuringblind]

I See Your Beauty

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Genre: a little angst mixed with fluff and comfort

Summary: the youngest Verstappen is forced to do life without her vision. Thinking she might not be able fully experience her life due to the remarks of her father, she concedes that finding love is unlikely. Until she runs into Charles who helps her believe she doesn’t need her eyesight to be loved.

Warnings: Jos is his own warning now. Talks of disability and reader having an accident. Talks and depictions of verbal and physical abuse.

Request: nope this is self-indulgent. However, I am taking requests for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel.

Notes: written in third person. Also, this fic deals with disabilities, particularly blindness. I myself am blind though I still have some vision left, which is mainly what I’m basing this off of. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum like many other disabilities. It is defined really by a loss of vision that can’t be corrected. I’m open to answering questions about it if y’all have any. My inbox and asks are always open :)

Masterlist

The youngest of the Verstappen’s very close with her brother, Max. The two are barely a year apart so it makes sense. Though they get in each others nerves often as well. Victoria doing her best as the oldest to settle arguments between the two.

Jos decided that two children in racing gives him better odd then just one. Electing to have both start karting at an early age.

They liked racing together. Getting used to being each others rocks when their father was harsher then necessary. It became routine for the two to defend each other.

Then everything changed.

The two were moving up through the ranks. Competing harder then ever to make your dad proud.

The accident wasn’t her fault. A consequence of her father from trying to build a faster car and not having test run it.

The engine exploded during the race. Every one of her senses ranged useless as she tried to react.

Ears ringing.

Smoke from the fire burning in her nose.

Blood from whatever hitting her knocking her teeth into her lip.

Heat nipping at her skin.

Lack of sight making her steering erratic.

Max had immediately rushed to aid his sister. Their father only staring in disappointment. He became resentful of his father that day.

The ambulance arrived and took you away. Max begged to go with but Jos ignored his request, telling him he needed help cleaning up his youngest daughter mess.

After hours the finally arrived back home. The other two Verstappen’s confused why the youngest was nowhere to be found. Max finally broke down in tears, much to his father dislike, and clutched Victoria for comfort. Telling her everything that had happened.

While three of them went to the hospital to find you, the fourth sat wallowing in disgrace at the display from his children today. He couldn’t admit he’d made a mistake. One that might have cost him a child.

Meanwhile the youngest was out of surgery. Continually crying for her family. The nurses had tried to reach her father who had given the medics his cell number, but they had yet to hear from him.

When her family arrived she tried her best to make out their faces. The sparks from the engine had been so bright that they burned her retinas. The combination of the fire doing permanent damage. The impact of the engine had knocked her helmet almost all the way off and she instinctively pushed it away to try and see again. The protection of the visor gone.

The three siblings cuddled together in her hospital bed. The youngest not fully comprehending why she couldn’t see. The lights were too bright. She was squinting to make out the small details.

Things didn’t improve after that. Jos became angry towards her. Constantly reminding the girl of what happened, what she did wrong, and how if she hadn’t messed up she might have been successful.

Regardless, she listened to him berate her at everyone of Max’s races. He stopped commenting about Max when she was within earshot. Mostly because she told him off every time he insulted her brother. Jos already deemed her the disappointment of the family, standing up for Max couldn’t possibly make things worse.

Max had also gotten more protective of his sister. Having been the one to pull her away from the wreckage and cleaning up the damage made him realize he didn’t want you to get hurt again.

He made it to every doctors appointment he could. He attended as much physical therapy as you would let him. He even put on a blind fold so he could understand a bit better. He helped her learn cane skills and how to guide you himself. All in an effort to help his sister feel less alone.

He was aware she still had some eyesight lift. Mostly cloudy and bright patches dotted her eyes making it difficult to make out where things are and any specific details. She liked seeing what she could of her siblings faces though.

Max determined he was going to bring you to every race with him. The Verstappen losing all ability to drive now making things harder for her and she didn’t want to stay with her father.

Victoria had a room for her in her house and let her stay when she needed. Max always made sure there was a room for her if she wanted to travel with him. She loved how willing her sibling were to help her out. However, it left her feeling useless and vulnerable at times.

Eventually, Max helped get her a job with Redbull as a strategist. She enjoyed playing with the different data. Listening became a more essential job then seeing.

Race days were spent in the garage unnoticed in the back. Hopefully out of view of the cameras and away from her father. They saw each other often, much to her dismay. He always had something to say to her when Max wasn’t around.

It was during her downtime that she met Charles.

~

Deciding her cane was unnecessary since she knew her way around the paddock and the ground is relatively flat, she went to hunt down her brother.

Neither party was paying attention leading to them running straight into each other. She could vaguely make out the Ferrari red race suit standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Came the voice of Charles Leclerc. Though the two had never formally met, she had heard during interviews enough to know his voice.

“It’s alright, neither was I.” She smiled at the Monegasque. “Have you seen Max anywhere?”

He chuckles. “Unfortunately no. Are you his girlfriend?”

The question makes her laugh hysterically. “I’m his sister.” She can hear him sigh in relief at the clarification.

“That’s better at least because I wanted to say that you are very beautiful.” The playfulness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Completely taking her off guard. Sure she’d gotten complements, but not often enough to make her used to them. The words of Jos not letting her believe them anyway. “Would it be alright if I give you my number?”

She lost all words in that moment. This had never happened before. “Sure-” she manages to stutter out before handing him her phone. The screen reading out things to her so she could get to her intended destination.

“I’ve never see a phone do that before.” Charles takes the phone from her and starts to put in his information.

She mentally face palms herself. Obviously he hasn’t realized she’s blind. “Actually I don’t have much of my eyesight.” She play with the bottom of her shirt. Her father having instilled in her that her blindness is something to be ashamed of.

“Wait- so you are blind? That is very interesting, I would like to know more if you’re okay with it.” The curiosity in his voice rising.

She wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody asks her questions about her condition. Even Christian doesn’t touch the subject and she never brings it up in conversation. “I guess, if your really interested.”

“Great, I’ll see you later tonight. Send me the address of where you’re staying.” His playful and flirty manner never faulted as he walked past her. Leaving the girl confused and blushing.

Little did she know that Charles had seen her around the paddock. Mostly hanging off of Max’s arm. He assumed she’d never notice him wave or try to get her attention. Turns out she couldn’t see him. He knows better then to assume. He blames it on the anxiety of being around her.

The youngest Verstappen finished up her duties as quick as possible. Catching a ride with her brother back to the hotel. He has learned to read her though and immediately noticed something was different. “What’s going on with you? You seem very smiley today.” He laughs.

“I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me.” She did her best not to appear nervous but was ultimately failing. Her hands fiddling in her lap.

“I could never hate you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She glances over at him. Eyes planted on the road. His calm demeanor putting her at ease. “Charles Leclerc asked me on a date tonight.”

Max begins laughing hysterically. His once smooth driving now a bit jerky from his sudden movements. “You thought I would hate you because of a date?”

She stutters a bit. “Well- aren’t you two rivals?” She manages. His laughing throwing her emotions all over the place.

“Sure, on the track. Off the track we are still friends and I trust him.” He explains. Relief floods through her body at his words. Her confidence in the situation going up a little.

She can feel the smug look on Max’s face. “Do you want help getting ready?”

~

The two siblings spent over an hour playing dress up. Max eventually having to video call Victoria and ask her opinion. The two trying to make their sister feel like she owns the world.

Dressing is less tricky then make-up. Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was worth the struggle and didn’t put it on. Some day she had to call Victoria to make sure everything looked right. If there was good lighting she was typically fine, but tonight was not one of those nights.

Growing up between two sisters, Max had learned a decent amount about make-up. He even enjoyed getting to do it on his sisters if they would let him. The almost squeal he let our when his sister asked for help was both hilarious and ridiculous. Immediately setting things up on the bathroom counter and going to work.

Max could tell his sister was anxious. Their father having scared away any of your potential boyfriends. Even going as far as to tell they that she is diseased. One of the worst things about having Jos around the garage, is that you’re left with him.

Though Max has stepped in many time and even lectured his father about his word choices, he never let up on any of the Verstappen children. All of them getting some aspect of their father’s insecurity thrown back at them like it’s their fault.

When he was done, Max tried to sooth your nerves. “Dad isn’t around. He’s in his own hotel room. Go have fun.”

And that’s exactly what she did.

The conversation between her and Charles flowed. He asked questions that weren’t invasive and was respectful if she didn’t want to answer. He made her laugh ridiculously hard.

So they kept doing it. She had to follow Redbull for work which made things easier in the two. Finding down time to meet up or celebrating together after races.

After the season was over, the two went on a holiday together.

Charles spent a good amount of time learning from her (and in turn Max) how to guide if the need ever arose.

Charles was so gentle with her. Always letting her know if there was something unexpected around. Telling her who was in the room.

If felt like a dream. One she never wanted to wake up from. Charles had assured her multiple times that she wasn’t dreaming and that their love is very real.

But alas, Jos likes to make things difficult.

~

A few races into the new season, Charles still had yet to formally meet Jos and the Verstappen siblings intended on keeping it that way. It wasn’t secret. Everyone in the paddock know the two were dating. Jos just hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yet.

She’d mentioned her childhood a few times but could never get out the full extent of what happened. Charles thankfully is patient with her and lets her take her time. He knows Jos’ reputation. Her childhood couldn’t have been the most amazing with him around.

This particular race, she was forced into close proximity with him. There had been a mistake during a pit stop for Max which made him lose some positions. Ending the race in fifth. To her it isn’t bad at all, but to the angry Dutchman unleashing his fury on everything, it most certainly is.

Sensing his rising anger, she had pulled her father into a more secluded area. Hoping that Max wouldn’t come back to the garage for awhile. At least not before she could talk some sense into their father.

She said nothing as strings of curse words left his lips. Only waiting for him to run out of breath.

“Did you see how he got lazy? He would’ve finished higher after the idiots didn’t do their jobs if he had put in more effort.”

“Max put in all his effort and you know it.” She scoffs. Arms folded over her chest. This is nothing new to her.

“Like you have any room to talk.” He snaps back. Her head now sagging, knowing his anger is now finding a new direction.

Charles, on the other hand, had been looking for her. It’s his first win of the season and she is nowhere to be found. Max ran up to him as the podium celebration ended. Patting him on the back for his well earned win.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere, mate?” He asked the Dutch.

Max ponders for a moment. “She might still be in the garage debriefing after what happened.” He replies. “I can walk you over if you want.”

The two drivers made their way to the Redbull garage to find most of those who would normally be inside, standing outside in a huddle. “What the hell is happening?” Max shouts over to Christian as the two approach him.

“I was just about to go find you.” Christian sighs in exasperation. “Can I call security on your father? He hasn’t stopped shouting since the race finished up.”

Charles and Max exchanged glances. The young woman’s absence now making more sense. “I’ll try and talk him down.” Stated Max before weaving his way through the sea of Redbull shirts. Charles following close behind.

Before the two could get further away, Christian yelled out to them. “Good luck, your sister has been trying!” The statement make the two move faster.

Charles could feel his emotions bubbling as the shouting got louder. As him and Max turn the corner, he immediately spots who he’d been looking for. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt around the floor looking for something.

Max steps in between her and the angry Dutch, shouting back and forth in their native tongue. Charles tries to spot what she’s feeling for. Scanning the ground until he spots her phone. The entire thing shattered. Small pieces of glass just barely reflecting the light. He’s down by her side in an instant.

“Love, it’s Charles, max is here also, I’m going to get you out of here okay?”

Her body turns towards Charles. It’s then he notices the specks of blood dotting her hands from feeling around the glass and a deep purple bruise forming on her forehead.

She’s struggling to breath now. Listening to the angry shouts. The pain in her head and the bright fluorescents not helping her see anything. She back in the crash.

Her father had spend from the end of the race until now laying into her. She had successfully defended Max and thought she was prepared to take the brunt of it. Until he snatch her phone and threw it at her. It hit her head so hard she was in the ground in seconds. Trying to feel her way around to where it might have gone so she could call Max.

The words were so familiar to her. The ones she heard in her nightmares when she was once again surrounded by smoke and bright lights stealing away her vision.

“I don’t want to crash again Charles. It’s to hot. It hurts too much. I can’t see anything.” She tried to search for him but ended up with more glass in her palm. The tears only thickening.

“Stay put, okay? I’m going to help Max and then I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want to leave her on the floor. She looked like a child, and so did Max in this moment. The two getting their fathers wrath with no end in sight.

Charles sprints back to Christian, yelling at him to call security, then sprints back to Max.

“Mr. Verstappen I think you are out of line here.” Says the monegasque. Signaling Max to stay with you. He didn’t move at first but it was obvious he was getting nowhere, so he obliged. Kneeling down to help his sister calm her breathing.

Jos scoffs at Charles. “You have no right to get in between me and my children.” Anger pooling from his features.

“I mean no disrespect sir, but you’re being an asshole.”

“And is she-“ he jabs his finger at the girl on the floor, “-not disgusting.” Charles almost hits him but refrains from doing so knowing security will be arriving soon.

“On the contrary, I think she is an angel.”

“She’s diseased. She hasn’t even tried to fix her mistakes. Look at her! She just wants attention for what she did to herself!”

Now Charles doesn’t hesitate to punch him. His fist colliding with Jos’ jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall.

Max took his attention off his sister, who was leaning against him, and placed it on Charles. Shock clearly evident of his features.

Jos attempted to confront Charles again, but security finally showed up and escorted Jos out of the paddock.

Charles exhales, glad the confrontation is over. “That’s not how I imagined meeting your father for the first time.” Charles chuckles nervously.

Is doesn’t take much longer until Charles has his love safely wrapped in his arms. Whisking her away to his hotel room. Max had stayed ti make sure everything got cleaned up at the paddock. Kelly arriving shortly with Penelope in tow, ready to comfort Max.

She cried when they were finally safe inside. Pouring out to Charles about the accident and what it had caused in her life. He listened intently, doing his best to soothe the girl. Her panic still clearly evident.

Soon enough she’d calmed. Her head laying in Charles lap while he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“It don’t care what anyone else says. I see your beauty and it is not defined by what you can’t see.”

[jinisnuggets]

ꜱᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ (ᴏᴛ3) ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱ/ᴏ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˡᵉᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʰᵃⁿ, ˢᵉᵘⁿᵍᵐⁱⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗʸ, ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿˢ, ˢᵐᵃᵘ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ, ʰᵃʳᵐ,

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ

ᴬ/ⁿ: ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵃˢᵏᵉʳ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ 😭 , ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁿ.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

When he got a call from the local hospital, he was quick to assume they had the wrong number, however he still picked up in order to inform them of the mistake, and when he heard a voice on the other end start to speak, he waited for them to finish the contact information before talking.

“Hello, I wanted to inform you that you possibly have the wrong number, I don't have any health issues and neither do any of my close relatives, so I believe this is a mistake, but thank you for your hard work, it is very appreciated.”

The other end stayed silent for a moment before verifying, “This is Lee Minho, is that correct?” Minho stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, “Yes, that's me- what happened?”

After the clarification, the doctor introduced themselves and explained the situation that had him very much on edge, and hearing what actually happened didn't make it any better.

“Wait- Y/n got into a car accident..?”

“Unfortunately, but luckily it wasn't a very serious crash so they came out with few injuries, although they aren't minor, they aren't major either so they should recover in a couple of weeks to possibly months.”

By that point, Minho had been pacing around the same spot for a decent amount of time, sweat running down his forehead as he bit his thumb nail, reacting quickly and reaching out for his car keys and wallet.

“I'm on my way, please keep them safe until I get there.”

The person on the other end nodded, but for confirmation muttered a small ‘of course’ in order to assure him that you were in good hands.

He didn't have time to ask about the injuries you had, the only thing he wanted to do by that point was see you and that was really it, he didn't think to ask nor did he really care to ask at the moment of it, the question hadn't come to his head until he started driving and had already hung up, in which he found himself banging his head against the steering wheel in complete disappointment to himself, quickly speeding up the pace in order to get to his loved one faster.

𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Jisung had been eating lunch in his car, he was lazy so he just stopped by some fast food restaurant and ordered a meal to go, so that's how he ended up in his car in a random parking lot, looking at all the passing cars as he ate the burrito he had ordered.

He had seen a couple of ambulances drive by but he hadn't thought much of them, it was normal to see an ambulance drive off during regular times of day so there wasn't anything suspicious about it.

He stayed in his car for a while and finished up his burrito, jamming to the music that played from his playlist. Right as he was picking up his trash he noticed his phone ringing, it was off as he wasn't the type to get calls often, so he looked at the contact and recognized the number as the local hospital's, it also had it on the contact name, he automatically assumed that maybe his parents needed to under-go some type of surgery and picked up.

“Hello, are we talking to Han Jisung at the moment?” The voice on the other line said, Jisung was scared so the only thing that came out of his mouth was a simple ‘mhm.’

“Perfect, I'm a doctor at the local Seoul Department Hospital, I have a few things to tell you about L/n Y/n.”

“Y/n!? Why are they at the hospital!?” He couldn't help but raise his voice a little, not because he was mad but because he was terrified. What was his beloved doing in a place like the hospital? From what he last knew you didn't have any mental conditions, which meant one of two things, you got injured or you just went for a check up and found some sort if emergency cause making you need surgery, which made him immediately reject the other option.

“Yes, L/n has twisted their ankle in what we can only assume was a fall, we don't have the full story yet as they've been undergoing treatment for the damaged bone.”

“That happened!?” Jisung was in disbelief, turning on his car and driving off in the way of the hospital.

“I'm on my way, please take care of Y/n for me.”

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

He was cooking whenever he noticed a number calling him, being the man he is, he obviously declined the call.

He hadn't seen the number and assumed it was a spam caller, so he chose to ignore it and decline the call. It wasn't until the number called a second time that he realized this wasn't a spam caller, so he picked up and got off to hang up if anything felt off or suspicious.

“Hello, are we speaking with Kim Seungmin?” A female voice asked from the other end, Seungmin felt uneasy and took a look at the contact information, seeing that it had the name of “Local Hospital”

Seungmin’s initial and continued thought was, of course, ‘scammer’ but he let the call proceed. “Yes, this is Kim Seungmin.” he responded.

“Okay, if it's okay for me to take a few minutes of your time, I would like to talk to you about some comments regarding L/n Y/n.”

Now Seungmin's mind went to ‘blackmailer’ and he was about to hang up the call when the same female voice continued.

“So, L/n has sprained their ankle while playing a sport, and it's not serious but it will take quite a bit to recover, so we wanted to know your relationship with the patient because they've got you listed as an emergency contact.”

Seungmin stayed silent, not because he was suspicious of any activity, but because he was genuinely concerned and trying to come up with the best thing to do in this scenario.

“I'm her boyfriend, could I have a few more details on their injuries?” Seungmin questioned, leaning over to pick up his shoes and slide them on, packing a bit of the pasta that he had been preparing and picking up his car keys.

“As mentioned, they sprained their ankle while they were playing some sort of sport, the theory is that they had landed badly on their leg and the pressure caused a bone malfunction causing the result of a sprain.”

“Okay, thank you very much, I'll be on my way.”

Seungmin thanked the nurse and despite his quiet and calm demineer, he was literally screaming and panicking on the inside.

[nburkhardt]

Part 1

Wayne Munson can read a person within a few minutes when being in the same room together

So when he comes home from work one evening, he immediately clocks an upset Steve. It’s not even surprising to see the boy in his living room nowadays. What is surprising is that his nephew is no where to be found. Neither of them speak as he takes his work boots off and jacket, then makes a quick cup of coffee and settles in the recliner.

“So, why’re you upset? My nephew forget a date?” He sips at his coffee and watches Steve tense up, he can tell the boy is holding himself back from looking towards him. It makes Wayne pause, clearly something is actually wrong. “This serious, boy?”

It doesn’t take a genius to see how much whatever it is, is really effecting Steve. It’s the way he holds himself back, even with being hunched over. How tense his shoulders are, that his hair is a mess and how he’s clutching his hands. Truthfully, Wayne can tell the boy is trying hard not to cry.

The day he officially met Steve Harrington within five minutes of talking, he grew a soft spot for the boy. It wasn’t with the way he talked about how much he liked Eddie or the way he held himself. It was because of the longing in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

They were in a hospital waiting room, Eddie was still in surgery and Wayne had shown up to a room full of kids. The reporter girl had pulled him aside to explain what was happening and he was listening to her but glancing around the room when his eyes caught sight of a young man sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his eyes were trained on the sight of a kid with curly hair in the arms of a woman. To anyone else, it would just be a friend watching someone else.

But to Wayne? He knew what longing looks like. Has seen it many times in his life. Especially in Eddie. The biggest difference between Steve and Eddie? His nephew learnt to hide that look, figured out how vulnerable it can be.  With Steve it’s noticeable, and, it seems he wears his emotions like a jacket. It’s there and open for all to see. With all that, he immediately knew that he’ll be there to care for Steve in anyway he’d want.

He also knew, as soon as Eddie was able, that he’d be right there with him. Fast forward a few months, Wayne was correct when Eddie told him about his first date with Steve.

“I, uh. I asked him” Steve mumbles out without looking at him, “it- didn’t go as I planned”

Nodding, he places the cup down and leans forward. It’s a serious type of talk, it seems. “What happened?”

Steve shakes his head and he catches a quick sight of red teary eyes, “I told him about a gift and he panicked, thought he missed an anniversary or something. Then when I tried to ask him, it was someone’s birthday and the waiters were singing loudy. Then, then, I lost my plan and just said if he wanted to share his last name.”

He chuckles at that, but it dies down when Steve finally looks up at him. He looks just absolutely heartbroken and close to breaking completely. Schooling his face, he leans forward to grip Steve’s shoulder. It snaps his attention and Wayne’s thankful for it.

“Steve, why don’t you relax? Try again another-“

“He thought I was asking if you’d adopt me!”

Once it’s said, it’s silent. Steve’s tears have broken the invisible barrier and falling down now, it’s breaking Wayne’s old heart. Makes him want to smack Eddie upside the head for being an oblivious idiot.

“Look, how about ya go take it easy and I’ll wait up for Ed. Love that boy but he can be a bit oblivious.” Wayne shakes his head before nudging Steve’s shoulder again, “that ring of yours will get on his finger, son. Just let me talk to him”

Steve just nods, wipes at his eyes and makes his way towards Eddie’s room. Glancing at the clock, he knows Eddie won’t be back for another hour or two. Depending on if he starts on a rant, so in the meantime, he drinks his coffee and waits.

He hears the sounds of Eddie’s van nearly an hour later. He’s on his second cup, ate a quick sandwich and made sure to check if Steve followed his advice, which to his relief he did. With Steve asleep in Eddie’s room, he decided his best bet to talk with Eddie was driving. It eased his mind and with his boots back on he waits for his nephew to walk in.

“Honey, I’m hom- oh. It’s just you” Eddie looks disappointed and it makes a beeline to go to his room. Right before he’s able, he grabs hold of Eddie’s arm stopping him. “Wayne, come on. I know Stevie’s here and I’d like to join-“

He shakes his head and stands up, pull Eddie with him back towards the door, “Your boy is asleep, come with me for a drive. We gotta have a chat, alright?”

Eddie pouts but doesn’t move away, moves with him with a whine of, “but Waaaaayne! I wanna go cuddle my boyfriend!”

Rolling his eyes, he opens the door and waves a pouring Eddie out. “You’ll survive a short drive, Ed.”

Eddie dramatically groans but stomps out towards his truck and crossed his arms waiting. With another eye roll, he closes the door and joins Eddie before unlocking the doors. They both climb in silently and continue this as he drives away. It’s not until he’s on the road that Eddie finally says, “Why am I in trouble now?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head and instantly flashes back to when Eddie was fifteen and gotten in trouble in school for the first time while living with him. Wayne decided the easiest way to get anything out of the near panicking Eddie at the time was to talk while driving aimlessly around.

They’ve done this a few times since then. Eddie hasn’t caught on that it was a benefit to both of them. Emotional talks aren’t his thing. But he’ll be damned before he admits that out loud.

“Nah, ya ain’t in trouble, boy.” He finally tells him while stopping and glancing at Eddie, he’s bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers against the other leg. “Ed, serious, you ain’t in trouble. We’re just havin’ a late night drive and chat”

“About what? You only do this when I’m in trouble or, or when I came out to you” Eddie doesn’t stop his tapping but he does bring up the leg that was bouncing to lean against.

Wayne shakes his head, moving back to watch the road. Thinking over his next words, Eddie doesn’t bother with the radio and is still watching him. He knows and doesn’t call his nephew out for the staring.

“Look, I came home and your boy was upset,” He started off, glancing over quickly to see Eddie tense up. “We chatted, he’s been asking me things about ya. See if I’d know where your head is at.”

“Why- uh. Why would-“

“We both know your boy has a lot of insecurities, doubts and all that.” He came to another stop and looked over at his nephew, meeting his eyes before Eddie quickly looks away. “Don’t get lost in your insecurities right now, Ed”

Eddie shakes his head and pulls his other leg up to hug them, “why didn’t he come to me about whatever the problem is?”

He has to quickly smoother the smirk that wants to work it’s way on his face, doesn’t want to give away that Eddie’s worried over the wrong thing, “Wasn’t a major problem, mostly he wanted to know my opinion on a gift”

Eddie’s face is mostly hidden but his whole body tenses up. He look up at him with wide eyes, “You- you know what it is?”

He nods, looking away to drive again. “Ya, it’s gorgeous. Your boy sure knows how to pick things out. Asked if you’d like it, told him it just screamed you. It’ll go nicely with everything you own.”

Eddie doesn’t say a word and Wayne just silently drives back towards their home, it’s nearly too late.

“So- you knew he was gonna give me something?”

“More like, ask ya something. But we can go with that too, if you’d want”

Wayne pulls up to their home shortly after saying that, turning the truck off to turn and watch Eddie. Watches as Eddie thinks about it, slowly his cheeks turn pink and into full blown red as the realization hits him. If he didn’t love this boy so much, he’d be laughing his ass off.

“Oh fuck, I- I’m an idiot”

Shaking his head, he settled a hand on Eddie’s knee, “nah, you ain’t an idiot. Just a little slow, Ed. Now come on, go inside sleep and tomorrow you and your boy can talk. Yeah?”

Eddie only nods before getting out and making his way inside and Wayne just watches before following suit. As he walks past Eddie’s door he hears a soft conversation happening.

“I’m sorry, my beloved.”

“Why’re you sorry?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s why”

“Baby, Eds- no. Don’t say that, you really ar-“

“But I am! You, you were asking me to marry you and I stupidity thought you wanted Wayne to adopt you!”

Wayne shakes his head at that before making his way to his room, his job is done.

~~~~

The ring doesn’t make an appearance until nearly a week later.

Wayne can tell the boys are even closer now, that their communication skills have grown just a little bit better. His nephew is still a little slow sometimes but now they’re more clear in what they’re talking about and hardly interrupt each other during more serious conversations. Makes him proud to see it.

It’s during a family dinner when he spots the ring on his nephew’s finger. He smirks into his drink but doesn’t mention it, he also doesn’t mention anything when he spots Eddie’s ring on Steve’s ring finger.

He’s happy for his boys, and he can’t wait for the day they can actually get married. Because it will happen, they deserve it.

Annnnd that’s it!! I decided half way into writing the ending to end it within Wayne’s pov. It seemed fitting to me. I’d like to thank @i-less-than-three-you for the help with parts of this!! If it wasn’t for her, this fic actually wouldn’t be a thing lol.

[junrenjun]

Catharsis

omega!jeonghan x beta!reader (part of ot13 x reader understand series)

genre: angsty i guess? fluff too

wc: 1.2k (short and sweet)

warnings: fem reader, implied member x member, hannie is sad, mention of injuries

summary: sometimes jeonghan needs a little reminder that it's okay to take care of himself too.

a/n: i've been wanting to write a jeonghan installment forever. i feel like this really didn't do his and mc's relationship justice, but i hope it is enough for now. i did have an anon send me this idea, so shoutout to that anon.

Jeonghan was…apprehensive about you joining the pack. Not because he didn’t like you. No, you were everything he could possibly ask for. But he’s nothing if not an attention whore and he’s already sharing with 12 other packmates. Another one would surely do him in.

He stands corrected though. Especially right now, when you’re giving your best attempt at nesting for him. He’s fresh home from the hospital after his ankle surgery and everything hurts. Obviously his ankle but also his heart. All he wants right now is to make a nice big nest and share it with his pack. But they’re in Japan and he’s in Korea. And he can’t even walk. He couldn’t be more useless as a pack omega right now.

At least your nest making is a bit of a distraction in the meantime. It’s haphazard and rushed, but it’s clear you are trying your best. It makes Jeonghan laugh because it reminds him of the first nest he ever tried to make as a freshly presented omega. 

You might not have the omega nesting instinct to help you out, but you do have the beta calming instinct guiding you. It’s cute, the way you fuss over where to put each item, sniffing them lightly to test the scent.

Your cuteness doesn’t distract him for long though, because soon he’s reminded once again that he left the rest of his pack in a foreign country to finish out a tour without a pack alpha, beta, or omega. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he lets out a sniffle.

The sound has you whipping around, abandoning your nest building with Seungkwan’s jacket still in your hands. You urge him into the nest gently and he tries his best to not disturb your hard work. Once he’s settled, you raise a hand to wipe his tears away. 

“I abandoned my pack,” he cries into your shoulder. 

You attempt to shush him again, but it only makes the sobs worse. “No you didn't, Hannie. You had to come home for this surgery and they know that. They’ll be okay for now.”

While your words were meant to soothe, it only makes his mind race more. “But what if Vernon eats something with peanuts in it?” he asks.

“He has an epipen there,” you respond. You can tell he’s starting to spiral because he just keeps asking questions. You do your best to fend them off. 

“Who is going to watch him and Seungkwan when their cycles hit?”

“There’s literally 9 other pack members there to do that.”

“What if Jihoon has an episode?”

“We have FaceTime for a reason.” “What if taking care of everyone is too much for Joshua?”

“Wonwoo will help him.”

“What if…”

You cut him off. “Can you stop worrying about them for 5 seconds and worry about yourself for once?”

Jeonghan snaps his mouth shut. You regret your words instantly, because his scent goes infinitely sour. You scrunch your nose in response. “I don’t want to worry about myself,” he whispers. 

You take a deep breath. His scent is mixed with frustration and hurt and it makes your heart ache. At least he’s being vulnerable with you. It’s a start. 

“I’m sorry you have to be away from them right now Jeonghan. But you’ve taught them how to take care of themselves, just like any good pack omega,” you tell him.

You can see the distress in his eyes as he searches for his next words. “I just…feel like I’m letting them down.” You cuddle yourself further into his side, reaching to rub your wrist against his. 

“You aren’t,” you tell him firmly. “They want what’s best for you right?” 

He nods in response and you take it as a sign to continue. “Right now you’re injured, and what’s best for you is to be here with me and Cheol, okay? You’re not doing this alone.”

His tears have started to subside and you let him take a few minutes to compose himself. Once he does, you instinctively run your wrist over his neck, spreading your scent over his to neutralize the distressed smell. He sinks further into the nest and you take his relaxation as a sign that he’s okay. “Are you hungry?” you ask. “I told Cheol I would grab him some food once you were settled in.”

“A little bit,” he murmurs. It may not be an honest answer, but it’s better than a refusal. 

“Okay” you tell him. “I’m just going to be out for a few minutes. I should be back soon. Text Cheol if you need something.” You press a kiss to his forehead and try your best to not ruin the nest as you scoot out. 

He watches as you go and has a hard time tearing his eyes off the open doorway once you are out of sight. What did he do to deserve you? When he finally does look away, his gaze lands on the picture frame sitting on his bedside table. It’s a somewhat recent picture. One you made them take in a professional studio right before they left for tour. Matching clothes and everything. You had done it thinking you would be home without them most of the time, not knowing two of the boys would join you months later. 

He reaches for the picture, grabbing it to get a closer look. Wonwoo looks funny without his glasses. Seokmin’s smile is wide as usual, reaching all the way up to his eyes. Vernon has his arm slung over Seungkwan’s shoulder, unsurprisingly. Jun’s hair is parted unevenly and Jeonghan remembers his concerned reaction when the photographer showed them the final product. Everyone looks happy. Trying to cherish these memories for as long as possible, he pulls the frame to his chest, hugging it lightly. He doesn’t even realize how tired he is and, eventually, lets sleep take him. 

He wakes up a half hour later to you gently pulling the picture frame from his arms. “Don’t want this to break,” you whisper to him. He lets you grab it and pushes himself further up in the bed. That’s when he notices the bag on the table where you carefully put the photo back. 

“You got food from the cafe?” he asks, eyes already brimming with tears. 

You look up at him hesitantly. “Oh, yeah. Is that okay? It seems to be a comfort meal for most of us now.”

He’s immediately grabbing the bag from the table, answering your question without saying anything. When he looks inside, it’s full of only his favorites. “It’s weird that you know me better than I know myself,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear. 

You smile fondly at him. “That’s because you take care of everyone else before you take care of yourself. Now eat.”

The first bite is heavenly. And while it doesn’t make him forget that half of his heart is all the way in Japan right now, it does remind him that he’s got a piece of it here with him.

[baronessblixen]

I wish you would write a fic where mulder falls asleep on skinner’s shoulder

Another ficlet! Gonna tag @today-in-fic this time 😁

“Is your son all right?” Skinner lifts his eyes to the nurse; one he hasn’t seen before. She’s young, her smile genuine, and her eyes curiously big. He’s tired. Not as tired as the man sitting next to him, whose head keeps ending up on his shoulder.

The first few times it happened, Mulder startled awake, his expression haunted, and apologized. Now, his head is on Skinner’s shoulder, his breath as even as it can be. If he weren’t so tired, or if Mulder were awake, maybe he’d correct the nurse. After the day they’ve all had, he has no strength left.

“His wife is- she’s not well.” It’s a white lie. Mulder and Scully may not be married on paper, but they are in every other way that counts. Once upon a time, Skinner felt the sting of jealousy seeing what they have. Now, he’s glad they have each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says. “Do you want me to go check on her? What’s her name?”

“Dana Scully.” Skinner keeps his voice soft so that he won’t wake Mulder. He should have known better; her name penetrates his sleepy mind and he blinks open his eyes.

“Is she- Dana Scully? Is she out of surgery?”

“I will check on your wife. I’ll be right back.” Her shoes squeak as she walks off. Mulder shakes his head, trying to wake up.

“My wife?” he asks Skinner, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Skinner is going to keep to himself that the nurse thought Mulder is his son. That’s for himself to deal with. He’s a mere 15 years older than Mulder. Right now, though, he sees it. He looks like a boy. One who’s scared to lose another person he loves, unable to stop it from happening. Again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” He changes the subject, hoping Mulder won’t press.

“No, I- I need to know how Scully is before I… before anything else.” The man needs a meal and sleep, preferably in a bed and not a hospital chair. Even if he threatened Mulder, Skinner knows he won’t leave here.

Before he can say another word, the nurse returns. His heart skips a beat until her face transforms into a big smile.

“Good news,” she says. “Your wife is out of surgery.”

“Is she-”

“She’s stable. She’s going to be just fine.” Mulder folds in on himself hearing the words and Skinner puts a hand on his back. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Skinner says, meaning it. “It has been a long day.”

“She’s going to make it,” Mulder mumbles, sounding almost delirious.

“She is,” Skinner assures him. “And I’m sure she wants to see you when she wakes up. How about you go home, take a shower and sleep?” He has to try. He knows that Scully would would want him to at least do that. Mulder just laughs humorlessly.

“You know I won’t.”

“The sit back down,” he says, aware that it sounds like an order. Mulder glares at him. “You’ve been using my shoulder as a pillow. Come on.”

“You sound as crazy as I do, sir.”

“Come on.” Another moment passes, but Mulder sits down. A minute passes and Skinner pretends to read the magazine he got hours ago. Maybe he’ll take that quiz again, the one that promises to tell you why you can’t ever keep a man. A sigh from the right, and then a soft weight on his shoulder. Mulder sleeps and Skinner keeps watch.

[oliversrarebooks]

Augusnippets Day 27: Chronic Pain

Human Resistance Masterlist

Augusnippets Masterlist

tw: chronic pain, brainwashing, drugging, involuntary surgery, intrusive thoughts

Zach knew it was going to be a bad knee day as soon as he woke up.

It was the first time it'd happened on the ship, probably because he spent so much time sleeping, being "trained" in pods, or being carried around in tentacles. The alien "medication" also dulled his senses enough that his usual knee pain was distant and bearable. But all that sedentary time had caught up to him, causing his knee to grow stiff. Now, even moving it a millimeter caused pain to shoot up his leg, bringing tears to his eyes.

He'd been injured not long after the apocalypse began, running from his superiors on a mission to get supplies. His friends in the human resistance had patched him up as best as possible, but he couldn't afford to sit around and let it properly heal. They were already looking to Zach to be a leader. And so he dealt with his injury as best as he could, took painkillers whenever they could be spared, and tried to avoid strenuous missions on the days when things were really bad.

Zach could remember all of this, but it seemed strange and faraway, like something that happened in a movie. He'd risked so much just because he'd been convinced that his superiors were the enemy. If he'd known then what he knew now…

The training pod opened, and one of the trainers greeted him.

How are you feeling, human?

Zach should know the correct answer, given that he'd just had it hypnotically drilled into his brain, but he went blank. All he could think about was the radiating pain from his knee.

"Obedient…?" he guessed. Shit. It was going to be able to tell the training didn't take and make him do another round in the pod, which would only make his knee more stiff and sore. Or worse -- his superiors might not even want to deal with a human with an injury like his. After all, they had so many able-bodied humans to choose from, the entirety of humanity.

You're injured.

It didn't carry judgement. It was a simple statement of fact. But Zach tensed.

You're really gonna cry over that? Suck it up, said a voice from a long time ago, back when aliens were just a sci-fi concept, back when he was a child. I know that didn't hurt. Quit being a drama queen.

"It's nothing," said Zach reflexively. "It's an old injury that flares up sometimes. If I could just be allowed to stretch it…"

Now he felt actual judgement. I can feel your pain, human. It drowns out everything else. Your training was not absorbed.

Oh, right, it could read minds. At least it believed he was actually in pain, then, which was more than he could say for a lot of humans.

He was scooped up into tentacles before he could respond, and they were swiftly moving out of the training area and through the labyrinthine corridors of the ship. Zach couldn't tell what the trainer was thinking. Hopefully he wasn't being taken to be disposed of.

"Where are we going?" he asked, wondering if he even should.

The infirmary.

"Oh." He probably should have guessed that. He was still getting used to the fact that the infirmary on the ship had a seemingly endless amount of supplies. He'd spent too long at the resistance base making sure their extremely limited supplies were prioritized to those who needed them most, and that meant there was rarely anything left for his chronic pain.

But here, he was swept into the infirmary and placed in a medical pod, with two more of his superiors coming over to fuss over him. They were chattering to each other in their own language, which sounded like a low, melodic drone in his head when they were near. It was… comforting, in a way.

Tentacles reached out and manipulated his knee gently, so very gently, but he still winced at it. "It doesn't hurt that bad," he said on instinct before remembering they could feel his pain.

His trainer was in front of him, now, its eyes blooming into radiant colors and quieting his thoughts. You will tell the truth.

"I will tell the truth," he said helplessly.

Why didn't you inform your superiors about this problem?

He didn't even know what his answer was going to be until "I didn't want to be in trouble" spilled out of his mouth. "I didn't want you to think I was faking or being dramatic or trying to get out of responsibilities. Or so weak that I can't handle a little pain."

More chatter amongst themselves as Zach stared into the eye, losing himself.

Humans will not be in trouble for experiencing pain. Its tone made it sound like something obvious.

"That's not always the case where I'm from."

This is your home now. You will report to your superiors when there is a problem. You will not be in trouble for making this report.

"That's… good to know…"

Zach was vaguely aware of strange instruments brushing against his knee very gently, an action that still caused pain to travel up his leg and into his hips, even with his mind occupied by the hypnotic eye. A tentacle pulled on his arm and stung his inner elbow. More medication, but this felt different from the usual, cold and numb.

Unaware.

"Unaware…?" said Zach, confused.

Unaware.

"What are you…?" He felt so strange, almost like he was falling and the room was fading away. He needed to shut his eyes just a moment to get rid of the sensation.

He opened his eyes again. "What are you doing?"

The superiors in front of him beamed amusement into his head. It has been finished, little human. Your confusion is endearing.

"Finished? What do you mean?"

We have replaced your defective joint.

"Replaced?" He felt strangely woozy and out of it. Tentatively, he moved his knee. It didn't hurt any more. It wasn't just the sharp pains that were gone, but the background radiation of pain that had accompanied him for years had vanished.

It was impossible. He'd just closed his eyes for a second, he'd thought. "How long was I out?"

Three cycles, little one. We measured your joint. Produced the replacement. Installed the replacement. All while you were unaware.

"I… see." His superiors had knocked him out and replaced his knee without even consulting him on it. Not that he would have objected to having his knee fixed, but he still felt strange about it, even as it was settling in that he might not have to experience that pain ever again. Even as he thought this, the programming that had been drilled into his mind began to wash over him, encouraging him to be docile and agreeable and obedient.

It was good that he had been fixed. He would be a better human.

The trainer picked him up again. You have been asleep. You will eat. You will then redo your previous training until it absorbs.

"Until it absorbs… yeah, okay."

Human Resistance Masterlist

Augusnippets Masterlist

@augusnippets

[samkerrworshipper]

togetherness | pt.2

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5 |

longawaited and has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now cause i wasn’t quite sure if i liked the direction it’s gone in… but highliting different issues n stuff so i hope y’all enjoy! again i’ve edited this on my phone whilst reading from my kindle lol so not going to lie i’m aware that the editing could be shocking… there’s a few more parts sitting in my drafts so lmk if y’all want more

warnings: child exploitation, themes of sexual assault of minors, just general hurt with protective n supportive tillies

“Now that we’ve settled that, is there anything, anything at all that you’d like to tell me that I could help you with?”

I gulped, there were about six things I could think of just off the top of my head. I was tentative though. I could feel tears starting to form in the back of my eyes as I tried to make the decision in my head.

“No judgement?”

Sam’s immediate nod in response was comforting and apparently enough to get me talking.

“It’s going to sound stupid and I don’t even know what you could do about it considering that I’m probably somewhere in the wrong with it as well.”

Sam looked like a mixture of intrigued and perplexed.

“Y/n, even if I can’t do anything about it, you look like you just need to get it off your chest, I can be that for you as well, just tell me what’s been bothering you so much.”

I sniffled and nodded at Sam, this situation was so abnormally vulnerable for me.

“You know that I was rough around the edges when I got here, I know you haven’t heard the whole story, to put it simply I went through a rough patch when I was 14 and 15, before I got here. I’d just had spine surgery, I thought that I was never going to walk again, let alone play football. I turned to a lot of things, drugs, alcohol, anything. I ran away when I was 14, I don’t remember much of it, just that when I returned home my parents had had enough and they sent me off to the AIS for Tony to train me. Anyways, I’m rambling. Somewhere along the road I sent some explicit videos, photos and texts to my ex boyfriend, graphic ones, there’s a lot of them. He’s been posting them on reddit and twitter and they haven’t gotten any attention yet but with all the media coverage and bad press I’ve had recently I’m worried they are going to be brought up and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Sam’s expression was one thing, completely deflated and shocked. She was typing furiously into her phone whilst she was listening to my story. It took a few minutes of silence for her to reply to me.

“First off I want to start off with telling you how grateful I am for you sharing that information with me, it can’t have been easy and you are incredibly brave for telling me. I’ve got some follow up questions that I need to ask, you don’t have to answer them, I’d just appreciate it if you could try your best, okay?”

I nodded quickly in reply to Sam.

“Okay. How old were you when you sent these videos and how old was your boyfriend at the time?”

“I was 14 or 15, he was in his mid twenties.”

“So that puts him in his late 20s or early 30s right now, if my maths is correct. Did you take these photos and videos or did someone else?”

“I took most of them but he took some.”

Sam nodded at me again.

“Okay based on that question I can tell you that this ex boyfriend of yours is legally in possession of child pornography, that’s an indictable crime. If you want this to well and truly stop then we can go up that path. I want us to talk about this with Tony, it’s ultimately your decision but I think it would be very sensible to take this up with him at the very least. Y/n, you have done absolutely nothing wrong, I need to stress to you how important it is that you understand that. No one is going to blame this on you, because it isn’t your fault, you are a victim of a crime. That isn’t something light. I promise you that I have your best interests in concern when I’m telling you this. I have to ask, have you talked to anyone else about this? Your family? A therapist? A friend? Leah?”

Leah Williamson, my arsenal team captain and my best friend/mom/girlfriend. I shook my head at Sam, I’d wanted to tell Leah, she was the only person I probably trusted enough to tell but I hadn’t seen her in weeks.

“Do you want to talk to someone about it?”

“I was going to talk to Lee about it, eventually. Just with her ACL and us being in different places it didn’t make much sense, plus this stuff is so fucking stupid I didn’t want to bother anyone with it, I’m sorry for bothering you with it, Ellie was right I’m being fucking selfish.”

Sam’s face was unreadable, it was clear she was pretty deep in thought. She sat across from me for a few minutes, in thought, before she stood up and walked around the table, sitting herself down beside me.

“Can I give you a hug?”

I nodded and relaxed a little bit as I felt Sam’s arm snake its way across my shoulders, inevitably bringing me closer to her and into her chest.

“Williamson would want you to tell her, she’ll probably be mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You are not being a bother to anyone, you have human emotions and this situation you are in is a hard one. You aren't being selfish, you are asking for help, which is a very human thing and you very clearly need it right now, there is nothing wrong with that. Now, how about I call Williamson for you, I’ll see you if you can get down here? I’m going to call Tony down here, I’ll brief him and he’ll help, okay?”

“I don’t want to tell Tony, he’s going to be mad and he’ll probably tell me this kind of behaviour isn’t wanted on his team and then I’ll get sent home.”

I could feel the material of Sam’s jumper that she must have thrown on after training soaking up my tears, that was embarrassing.

“I know you don’t want to, and I can promise you that Tony is going to be nothing but supportive, you’ve done nothing wrong. There is nothing illegal about what you did, now or then. Tony is not going to send you home, I promise. Now, do I need to call Williamson or can you do it?”

Realistically I probably could have, but I really didn’t want to.

“Can you?”

Sam nodded at me immediately, which comforted me a little bit.

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I couldn’t. She should be in Sydney right now to watch the Lionesses play tomorrow night, yeah? I’ll talk to her and we’ll see what we can work out for you. I don’t have her number though, so can you call her on your phone and I’ll talk to her.”

I nodded quickly, shakingly pulling my phone out of my pocket and pushing it out onto the table. I very quickly pulled Leah's contact, I’d called her last night so it wasn’t hard to find. She was the only person in the world that I could talk to when I was at my lowest, the only person who actually cared about me. So last night, whilst I was mid panic attack, on Ellie's and I’s ensuite floor I called her and she’d talked me through it. I should have told her then, it probably would have saved me this whole interaction with Sam, but I hadn’t wanted to worry her anymore, so I blamed it on pressure of being selected to start this week and she’d accepted my answer.

We’d been texting most of the morning, her asking me if I’d gotten sleep and if I was feeling alright, I’d answered shortly with an array of 'yes', because I didn’t want to worry her anymore. I passed the phone over to Sam once I found her phone number and she clicked the call button before pressing the phone up to her ear and standing up from her seat, starting to pace between the seats.

“Hey Leah, this is Sam, Sam Kerr, from the Matildas. Look, I’m here at our Sydney training facility with Y/n, we’ve just had a pretty serious conversation with her about some problems that she’s had recently and I was wondering if you were around so you could be here for her.”

Sam pulled out her own phone again as I assumed she listened to Leah’s response. It amazed me as to how fast her fingers danced across her own screen, it was a different kind of multi tasking.

“Yup, Mmm. Alright, I’ll send you the address, it’s not far from you guys hotel from recollection. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being able to do this for her, I’ll see you soon and we can talk about it then.”

I gulped as Sam said her farewells and then hung up the phone before walking back over to me.

“She’s coming down, should be here in fifteen or so. She sounded worried about you, mentioned something about you having a panic attack to her on the phone last night and that she was concerned about you. I’ve texted Tony, he’s finishing up with Ellie and then he’s going to be down here. I’m going to get Steph to meet Leah downstairs when she gets here and she’ll bring her up, Y/n, we’re all here to support you however you need, alright?”

Me and Sam stayed silent in the room until about ten minutes later there was a distinct knock against the door.

“Sam, it’s me, unlock the door.”

Steph’s voice was pretty distinct, even through the heavy door. Sam stood up almost immediately, walking to the door and unlocking it before a grumpy looking Steph and a flustered version of Leah made their way through the doorway before Sam had the opportunity to relock it. Leah’s eyes went straight to my own, her whole facial expression was very controlled, she could command an entire room with that face, I knew from experience.

“Are you okay?”

Her words were directed at me, and only me. I pressed my tongue against my front teeth and lip, trying to decide how to answer the question.

“There’s some stuff that’s been happening that I haven’t told you, I’m not in trouble, or at least that’s what Sam is telling me. It’s some stuff from my past, when I was a kid. Explicit images and photos, on the internet, from when I was a kid. They popped up a few weeks ago, starting when I was in Spain with you before we came here. I didn’t bring it up because I thought I was at fault for it as much as the person who has possession of them. Sam told me that it isn’t, that I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry, I know it was fucking stupid and I should have told you about it or not done it, I don’t even remember taking any of the photos or videos, it just happened and now I don’t know what to do because I don’t want it getting out to the public and I just, I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Leah’s face relaxed a little bit as I progressively talked and rambled. Once I was done she walked over to my spot, seated on one of the chairs and wrapped her arms around me.

“Hey, it’s alright, we’re going to sort this out. She’s right, you didn’t do anything wrong and you should have told me earlier but I am so grateful that you are telling me now, yeah? You are so brave kiddo, that’s child exploitation and whoever has possession of those materials is the one who’s in the wrong, okay?”

I nodded into Leah, Steph and Sam were whispering between each other behind us.

“You have to take legal action though.”

Those words made me feel like I’d been stabbed and my guts had been ripped out of my body cavity.

Leah let go of me very gently and pursed her lips.

“Because this isn’t going to go away if you don’t, and I know that you are strong but you aren’t going to be able to live if you know that this person who has possession of these materials is still out there. You’ve been checked out for weeks now, since before Mallorca. You aren’t going to check back into your life until this goes, I know it. I need you checked in, I need you to be my girl, not the skeleton of your own body that you inhabit as a coping mechanism when something bad happens.”

I think Leah would have said more if it wasn’t for the incessant knocking against the door that came again. Sam was the one who went to the door again, letting Tony in. He looked flustered as well, and a little bit worried. I’d known the man since I was 15, he’d seen me in some pretty interesting situations. Sam intercepted him before he could say anything, pulling him aside and giving him what I assumed to be the rundown of the last hour.

“I don’t think I can handle this getting out, it will, if I take legal action this is going to get out and then I’m going to be Y/n Y/l/n, the Matilda’s exploitative rookie and I’ll never be back here. My career will be over, Jonas won’t want me back, everything I've worked for will be done.”

Leah took a deep breath before wrapping her arms around me and working her hands through my scalp and hair.

“If you take legal action you will be supported, I’ll make sure of it. We are a part of a community of women that uplift us for everything you do, this won’t be any different. There will be some who judge, there is always going to be someone there to judge you. Y/n, you need to do this for your sanity, I won’t lose you to your mental health again, not like last year. Kerr has done the right thing here, bringing this up, it shows me that she cares a lot more about you then you think, it also shows me that she knows what’s best for this team and you. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t think this was the best course of action.”

I nodded into Leah, trying to convince myself that her words were correct. Eventually, after Sam had given Tony the full rundown he sat down across from me, exactly where Sam had been beforehand. Sam and Steph both stood behind me and Leah, Sam’s arms resting gently on my shoulders, it was grounding.

“Sam’s told me about what’s happening. First of all I want to say how sorry I am that you are going through this, it’s not something that anyone should have to deal with, ever. Second of all I want to let you know that this team, this whole nation is in support of you. Look, it’s too late for me to take any action now. I’m going to get the police to come down tomorrow morning, you aren’t in trouble. I just think that they are going to have a better understanding of this situation than any of us could. They’ll come down, we’ll have a talk about all of this, they’ll ask the questions they need to. We don’t need to make any decisions now, we’ll talk to them, Sam and I will be there to advocate for you. After that we can make decisions about taking legal action and whatnot. Otherwise I just wanted to tell you genuinely, from the bottom of my heart how much we all care about you and value you here, we are all going to be here for whatever you need in the future, you are a valued part of this team and family and we are all here to look out for your needs, okay?”

I gulped, I could feel fresh tears springing to my eyes again. I was petrified of the police, to say the least, but Tony’s voice was so reassuring. He was the father that I’d never had and when I was 15 and he’d met me I’d been in a bad place, I’d needed him to be that figure in my life and he had been. He gave me a routine, gave me something to wake up for every morning. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Tony. He’d given me a chance when no one else had been prepared to and for that I would always be in debt to him for.

“Okay, I’ll get in contact with the police, we’ll get a constable down tomorrow morning and we can have an open conversation with them about it, you are not in trouble, nothing is going to happen that will end in consequences for you. I think though that you need to head back to the hotel and get some proper sleep, your body needs it. So head back, don’t worry about any of this, because I’m going to sort it out and we’ll talk about it in the morning with a clean slate and mindset, alright?”

I nodded at Tony, I didn’t really have much to say.

“Thank you Coach.”

He nodded at me, before standing up and walking around to the other side of the octoval table and giving me a pat on the back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry about this anymore, it’s going to be okay. Get back to the hotel, we’ve got an early wakeup tomorrow.”

I nodded at Coach, watching as he left the room just as quickly as he’d entered it.

“I’ve talked to Steph, her and I are rooming together so we’ll switch, she’ll stay with Ellie and you can come and room in with me, I think we’ll keep it that way for the rest of the tournament.”

I looked over at Sam, nodding along with what she was saying. Leah reached her arms around me, a big bear hug.

“And I am here, I expect you to check in with me, at least twice a day. When you guys head off to Melbourne or Brisbane I’m not going to be able to be there, so I need you to stay in contact with me, okay? Anybody does so much as look at you wrong I want to be the first to know, okay?”

I nodded at Leah, half in fear, half in adoration. She was the only person in the world that I actually trusted in. Our bond had been forced, when I’d moved to London to play for Arsenal I’d been moved into the spare room in her apartment and in a very short amount of time we’d created a bond that extended beyond the realm of friendship. I loved her, she was the first person besides Tony to give me a chance and he was obligated to give me on, Leah had chosen to fight for me and to stick by my side even when it wasn’t easy, she was a good person, better than I was sure I’d ever be.

“We’ll drop you back to your hotel on our way home Williamson, it’s the least we could do considering you got here so quickly, can you just give us five minutes to grab our things from the locker room?”

Sam’s voice held no room for argument, she was insisting on giving Leah a ride home and Leah didn’t try to object.

“Please, call me Leah and if it’s no trouble I would really appreciate it. I can meet you guys down in the foyer in about five, I need to go to the loo, so whilst I’m doing that how about you guys go and get your stuff together?”

Sam, Steph and I all walked back down to the change rooms in a comfortable silence. It was when we actually made it back to the rooms that I realised I still had my boots on, the cleats that were spotless from not even getting any wear at training. The cleats that a few hours ago had seemed impossible to tie up. I made quick business of pulling them off of my feet, throwing them into my kit bag and pulling out the pair of Nike dunks that I’d worn in earlier when we’d all come down here for our match analysis. Sam and Steph both made quick work off slipping out of their training kits and changing into sweat pant duos that matched with me. After they’d gotten changed and refreshed we all grabbed our bags and whatever other things we had lying around before making our way down to the foyer.

Leah was waiting for us, tapping her foot violently against the marble floors. When she spotted the three of us out of the corner of her eye her stress ceased almost immediately. I’d learnt a lot about Leah in the amount of time I’d known her. One thing about England’s captain was that she was not as fearless as everyone credited her as being, she put on a brave face, a bloody good one, but she was just as human as everyone else and sometimes it showed, especially when she felt uncomfortable in a situation or she didn’t think she deserved to be where she was. I’d moved in with her initially just before she'd led the Lionesses to their victory at the euro’s, and at the time Leah had been a basket case to be nice. I think that was how we’d bonded, through our similar insecurities of not being good enough to fill the shoes that had been passed down to us.

“C’mon cap, let’s get going.”

Leah smiled at me and nodded. We’d been keeping our relationship under wraps for a few months now. Neither of us were insecure in our situation and we were happy to enjoy our private, happy and blessed life together. Plus we hadn’t really seen much of each other in the past month or so, being caught up with our obligations to our national teams. Leah was also very committed to her rehab and I couldn’t be there for every step of that so we’d spent some time apart. We’d both agreed when the new Arsenal season rolled around that we’d tell the team, but still keep it under wraps from the public for as long as we could. Neither of us were worried about the public finding out, I was out, had been since I was 14. Leah wasn’t officially but she’d also never dated a man and in the eyes of the female soccer world that pretty much means you're gay. It would come out when it did and we were prepared for that to happen.

We walked out to Steph’s car, piling all of our bags in the boot before Sam and Steph slid into the passenger and drivers seats whilst Leah and I both took seats in the backseat. Somewhere along in the drive her hand made its way to my own, resting gently on top of my knee cap. I interlocked our fingers and smiled up at her, this was the part of a secret relationship that I liked, getting moments just between the two of you that only the two of you understood. The sweet nothings. I felt my heart plummet a little bit as we arrived out the front of Leah’s hotel and I realised that I was going to have to say goodbye, potentially for a few more weeks. That was the suckish part of being a professional athlete messing around with another professional athlete, there wasn’t always a timeline on when you’d see each other next, sometimes it was just situational.

I made the call to walk Leah to the door of the hotel, when we got to the doors I gave her a hug, a big, long hug. She hugged me back, tightly. Leah was good at hugs. When we finally had to come apart I looked up at her, with my big green eyes and apparently she couldn’t resist because she reached down and honoured me with a peck. It was nothing more, a small gesture but to me it was everything.

“I love you okay, be safe, text me, call me. I am always here for you, don’t keep me in the dark on things that you think are going to burden me, they aren’t, call your therapist, please.”

I nodded at Leah, she was using her captain's voice with me that she knew I couldn’t refuse.

“When you get back to the hotel I expect you to eat some proper food, not of those bloody granola bars that you insist are nutritional, proper food. Hydrate, at least a litre of water. Sleep, you deserve to sleep, let yourself sleep. Call me in the morning and tell me how you are feeling, okay?”

I gulped and nodded at Leah, an action that I was becoming aware I might have done too much of tonight.

“Love you too, thank you for being here for me.”

“Anytime, I’m only ever one call away, now go home.”

I gave Leah one final look before walking back to the car, closing the door behind me only to be bombarded with googly eyes from the two co captains sitting in the front of the car.

“You and Williamson?”

Sam’s voice was the first one to break the sound barrier, it scared me a little bit.

“Yeah.”

I made it sound like it was a non fact, like every person on the planet knew that I was in the bed sheets of the Lionesses Captain.

“Fuck, I knew it, McCabe owes me fifty quid.”

Steph’s voice was steadier and surprised me a little bit.

“We all had bets, how long have you guys been together?”

“We’ve been dating for 6 or 8 months, fucking around with each other since I joined Arsenal so about a year or so.”

Steph’s eyebrows rose to the top of her forrid, obviously very surprised by my answer.

“You're trying to tell me that you and Lee have just casually been hiding a relationship behind closed doors for months.”

“I mean we’re roommates, it wasn’t that hard to hide, plus we just aren’t rabbits who need to fuck on every surface unlike Sam and fucking Kristie, I’m never going to be able to mentally burn the image of you two getting at it on the pool table after the olympics, that was fucking traumatic.”

Sam’s face had flushed, we constantly brought it up with her. After our bronze loss to the US in the olympics a lot of the team had gone out in celebration with the Americans, what I hadn’t expected to find that night when I’d walked into the room that I thought was the bathroom was Sam eating her secret girlfriend out on the table. It had messed with my brain permanently.

“Hey you're the one who’s always bringing it up, maybe you were secretly into it, secret fantasy between you and Williamson.”

I loudly gagged from my spot in the backseat, extremely displeased by Sam’s imaginative imagery.

“Nobody thinks that Sam, it’s just you and all of your lost brain cells.”

There was something so comfortable about the dynamic between Sam and Steph, something so sisterly and bonded. They were like family, they messed around with each other and pushed each other but they loved each other and the both of them knew that at the end of the day. They might not have been the closest on the team, they weren’t each other's best friends but they were family and that was all that mattered.

“Whatever you say Stephy.”