#i know the surgery wasn't mentioned after at all
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#Doodles#SCII#Damned#ZEX#Blood#I knew going into this and it was still so distressing :'0#Who needs plot twists when you can create such an intense sense of Dread#Probably doesn't help that I read this At Night In the Dark lol - actual shivers#Gods this was a hard scene to read - there have been several instances of my face hurting from furrowing my brow so hard haha#The way that ''Doctor'' is written is So skillful - I'm so impressed by everyone's prose and quirks and syntax!#Not to mention when he breaks character in a later scene to apologize for taking a bit to move the scene along haha <3 Play!!#It really does speak to just how much skill and effort is put into everything <3 It's so well done all the way around!!#Anyway to the actual scene at hand lol ow :') Drawing blood is always fun but I wish it wasn't his ;u;#Ugh the way he takes the surgeries is so well written - fear of course but a kind of stoic suffering as much as he's able to -#Until it comes to his eye#Ugh the /break/ of it all he goes from so eloquent - almost snarky and silly! Still trying to find an out make peace do /something/#It all goes completely out the window he's so /reduced/ and nothing hurts worse than that ughughugh#For all his intelligence and wit and prior successes and charm and just - everything that makes him /him/ to be dissolved into abject fear#It's so sad ;; And so well done <3#And he still holds enough of himself to know what he'd be losing wegh it's so sad!! He's so defined by his vision as most VUX are it's fjdsl#Zelnick is already gone by this point but I wanted to throw him in for extra sad flavour :')#Plus - I've mentioned his post-Op was one of the ones from the gallery that Actively kills me every time I look at it#Can you imagine my heartbreak to find out that he didn't have his Captain to comfort him after this in actuality? That he was fully alone?#''Are we home? Is it over?'' ''N...not yet'' - The Absolute Devastation of realizing that Never Was not really#Just tear my heart out why don't you ugh I'm fully bleeding out đ#That last one is actually meant to be Max but it's open to interpretation :)#I think it's such a waste that his eye was just disposed of! Someone else could've used that (lol)#I do think there's something to the idea of seeing what used to be a part of your body elsewhere - like the Leftovers!#Even just keeping as a memento tho - a trophy - insult to injury but literally#Just points to no one being special and nothing being sacred I suppose
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I have made some financial decisions that while I can't morally call them bad they have left me with zero dollars in my bank account for the past two day and I don't get my next check for five days :'o)
(This isn't a post asking for money do not give me that it's just a small vent)
#Multiple vetted Palestinian fund raising blogs have started to messaged me directly for funds after I reblog them and#One thing that I don't often mention is i can get really panicked when#someone who I'm not very very close friends with messages me or calls me (not sure exactly why? Might be related to growing paranoia)#Anyways I wasn't sure how to respond since I only had fourty in my bank account and didn't want to just leave the person hanging#But then my brain went âYou know what. We just paid for gas for the week we can probably spare a good 20$â#And so I did and then made a post with the messages and the fundraiser attached to try to get it out to more people#And then another account messaged me a lot more urgently and panicked needing 50$ for an upcoming important surgery#They were also vetted and I panicked and decided to send them my last 20#They were a little bit pushy afterwards for more but. again. that's all that was there in my bank#Now two more have massaged me and the surgery one has messaged me again in the past two days and I'm not sure what to say to them#I only get 200 dollars every two weeks and I gotta portion that out between saving up for my upcoming second college tuition payment#(I'm nowhere Near that amount at the moment and it's all out of pocket)#Paying for gas and helping pitch in for food for my family#I'm not sure I can continue paying more than two fundraisers a month but I also feel awful and don't know what to say to the ones still#Waiting in my messages#I might have to try to find a way to turn dms off if it keeps making me not make the best financial decisions but again#I don't want to leave those other fundraising accounts with no answer!! And I don't also wasn't to give them an answer and have it be no!!!
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it đ and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
#ghostedĂ©abha#Ă©abha writes#Ă©abha's đ#ghostedĂ©abha: ghost#ghostedĂ©abha: simon riley#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x reader fluff#ghost riley x reader#awnie's amazing nonniesđ
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Deathday Party
Part of this post series > link
Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.
Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.
But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.
Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.
Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."
Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.
Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.
Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.
The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.
"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.
"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.
Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.
Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.
From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.
Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.
That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.
"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.
"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.
It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.
Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.
"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.
"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."
"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.
Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.
"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.
Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.
Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.
A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.
"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."
None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.
"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.
"He's my-"
"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."
After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.
"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.
Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.
"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.
"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."
Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.
Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#danny phantom#braindead#deadtired#batman#red robin#tim x danny#tim drake#vlad plasmius#Vlad is still an asshole but just a different kind now#vlad is an annoying uncle
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àšà§ zayne loses control of his evol and hurts you in more ways than one
â§.* warnings:- fem!reader, established relationships (zayne x reader), nightmares, minor depictions of PTSD, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, ANGST, breakups, hurt and comfort, jealousy, slight xavier x reader, unresolved emotions, reader and zayne are bad at communicating with each other, mentions of foods, hospitals, medication, suggestive content, language, explosions, zayne is kinda soggy and pathetic in this one, canon typical injuries, reader is in a coma, talks of surgeries, makeup sex, size kink, oral sex, girl on top, petnames (little on, my aurora, my love, darling), overprotective tendencies, possessive bf!zayne
â§.* strap in slĂŒts (affectionate) we have 15k+ of zayne angst let's go
If someone had asked you what Zayneâs deepest fear was, you mightâve told them it was a botched surgery, or wilted carrots in his fried rice.
Itâs not as if your childhood-friend-turned-lover walked around with his fears stapled on his forehead; Zayne was a private guy, and even after months of dating, you were still trying to get used to his moods and needs.
However, oblivious to you, Zayneâs fear was entirely apparent.
Time and time again, he showed you the truthâwithout words or fanfareâwhenever he scolded you for being clumsy on the field or forgetting to eat the entire day.
Zayne was afraid of you getting hurt.Â
And he was afraid of hurting you.Â
The bags under your eyes have gotten worse.
A week had gone by since you had slept a full five hours, schedule packed to the brim after a deathly Wanderer attack at the train station left seven injured and five more dead.Â
Zayne wasn't faring well, either. His days were consumed with operation after operation; more broken and injured people filling the intensive care units till Akso Hospital had to transfer them to their sister hospital, Mariso.
The Association had issued out a full city warning for Hunters to patrol the streets from dawn to dusk. All your colleagues were burnt out, praying for this harsh season to end so they could return back home; back to normality.
In your shared household, the nightmare was on a constant loop.
For days on end, you and Zayne were fleeting shadows passing each otherâthe most contact being whispered good mornings or good nights, depending on the time, and once, his touch on your lower back when he gently nudged you away from the door so he could rush out for another surgery.
Things were catastrophic, to put it mildly.Â
And it didnât help that your insomnia and his nightmares were back.Â
Staring up at the ceiling, you almost didnât hear the bedroom door opening until you noticed his broad shoulders outlined in the dim darkness.
âHey.â
Zayneâs voice is laced with exhaustion, and wordlessly, you open your arms for him.
Heâs colder to the touch than you remember, a sign of his Evol losing its composure after days of insurmountable stress and adrenaline spikes.
Heâs silent, holding you tightly to his chest. You smell the hospital standard bleach and anesthetic off his work clothes, feel the stuttering of his heart underneath your spread palm.Â
âWhen will it end?âÂ
His voice, quiet and in a timbre you know and love, vibrates against your cheek.Â
âI donât know,â you reply to him truthfully, bleakly. âIâve been asking myself that same question since this all started.â
Thereâs a whistling wind outside the windows, rattling the wooden panes. You close your eyes, trying to put aside the mental image of a Wandererâs snarl and how similar it sounded to the rushing breeze.
âYou should go to sleep,â he touches your face, strokes the back of his knuckles down your cheek. âIâll go take a shower.â
âCan I come with you?âÂ
He huffed a laugh. âOf course. If I am correct to assume, you would be doing your skincare twice tonight. Would that not tire you out? Other than this inquiry, please. Be my guest.â
You chuckle slowly, and sit up, watching him undress. Lashes of scars on his defined torso, the sinews of muscles and sharp edges all stack up to create the man you missed with your entire soul.
Zayne fights back a smirk when he feels your arms around him, face tucked into the back of his neck.
âI missed you,â you breathed. âFeels like itâs been years.â
âOnly a few days,â he corrects softly. Without sparing another minute, he turns, gathers you in his arms.
You spend the next few minutes showering with him, tracing the water trickling down his defined traps, obliques and abs with your wandering eyes. Lathering up bath soap and going over the spots of your body you had forgotten to scrub in your tired fugue, you discreetly watched him wash his hair, lost in his own thoughts.Â
Zayneâs beautiful green eyes flicker to the present when he feels you sneakily coming up behind him, and he almost groans like a virgin teenager at the sensation of your soft tits pressed against his back.
He stays still when your wandering hands trace down his stomach, over his pelvis where his hips tick the second he feels your tiny hands wrap around his cock.
âWhatâre you doing?â he asks, trying to sound gruff, but it came out breathless instead.
âShowing my boyfriend how much I miss him,â you hum.Â
Zayne bites on his lower lip, glad that he was facing the shower wall when you decided to play with him in such a risque way.Â
âWhat a little vixen,â he groans, voice dropping an octave deeper; a baritone timbre which sends shivers up your spine. âItâs amusing. If I had any suspicions, I think youâre trying to get me riled up so that I would lose control.â
His observation was apt, as usual.
âYouâre correct,â you brush your lips across a scar over his right shoulder. âSo, should I give you a medal, Dr. Zayne? Or, a trophy for getting it right?âÂ
He breaks your hold on him, and youâre breathless, thinking he is going to reject you when he pulls you into his embrace. Your back meets the tiled walls, and his large hands grab fistfuls of your ass, hitching you up high enough so your legs can wrap around his slim waist.
âAll of that is useless,â Zayne whispers huskily against your lips, and you swore your heart was about to double in size and burst out of your chest at his next words. âThe only recognition and reward I need is your sweet little pussy, my Aurora. May I know if I can treat her well tonight?â
He didnât even need to ask; you would serve your cunt on a silver platter for Zayne, no questions asked or needed.
âYes,â you breathe, twining your fingers through his dark locks and tugging his face closer to yours. âYou may, Dr. Zayne.â
His nightmares always started the same.
A dimly lit room. Chocolate wrappers on the bare, wooden floor. Loud explosions outside. And somehow, there was always a broken mirror somewhere in his periphery.
Zayne dreads (no, perhaps, itâs too mild a word)âhe absolutely fearsâwhat comes next.Â
Thereâs a little boy, no older than seven who looks at him hopefully. Zayne always ignores him, preferring to watch a blinking red dot on his screen.Â
Heâs different here; dressed sharply in a dark trench coat, expression like a blank slate. Nothing at all like his focused, calm self in the present. And yet, Zayne recognizes him like how someone might recognize the back of their hand even under a different light.Â
The man before him was him⊠but not exactly him.Â
Heâs been dreaming of this Zayne for a long timeâever since he turned twelve.Â
And right now, he was about to see the extent of this alternate Zayneâs power.Â
He can predict what comes next; the stretch of skin on the boyâs face snarling, broken bones sounding in the small room. The shard of ice through his heart which eventually ends his life.Â
But, this time, the boyâs cries are different. Theyâre higher pitched.Â
Feminine, almost.
Zayneâs heart races, his movements in the dream sluggish.
Zayne! Her voice reverberates, and he recognizes it. Zayne, please! Donât hurt me anymore! Save me. Help me. Youâre a doctor, Zayne. Not this. Never this. Please. Donât hurt meâ
The boyâs face disappears, replaced by one he knew all too well. His features morphed right into yours, and Zayne desperately lunges at the dark ice piercing your chest, fighting to get it out.
It would never move, no matter how hard he tugged on it or how much he willed his power to make it melt. You were dying with every wasted second, breathing growing ragged.
Zayne, Zayne⊠you never stopped calling out for him.
Zayne, help me. How could you hurt me like this? Zayne⊠ZayneâŠ
A burst of light explodes behind his closed eyes. Someone is shaking him awake, the cadence of her voice familiar and sweet.
â... Zayne? Hey. Hey. Itâs a bad dream. Zayne, youâre fine. Ssh, youâre fine.â
Her warm hands find his cheeks, pulling him right into her embrace. His face buries into neck, and he shudders, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries from her hair.
âZayne, youâre so cold,â you murmur into the darkness of the room. âYouâre shivering.â
He was; huge tremors which rocked him from his very core. He feels the familiar tingle on his skin, the web of ice which encases his hands.
Before he can gather enough lucidity and control to push you away, it all explodes in one fell swoop.
Ice shoots out, hitting the ceiling, piercing through the wooden bedframe.Â
âZayneâ!â
Your scream of pain rips through the night, and he frantically sits up, finding a huge shard piercing through your forearm.Â
âNo,â he whispers, fevered. âNo, no.âÂ
His hands are stained with bloodâyour bloodâas he tries to help you. But, the shard wouldnât budge.Â
âZayne,â you hiccup, moaning lowly. âShit⊠H-hurtsâŠâ
Nightmares become reality when it finally slams into him what he has done.Â
âHospital,â he mutters hoarsely. âWe need a hospital.â
âZayneââ
âDonât argue with me,â thereâs a feral note in his tone, a harsh reprimand which makes you flinch back.Â
âNow, grit your teeth and bear the pain for a little while, Y/N. I am taking you straight to the emergency room.â
You felt like you were floating on auto-pilot.Â
Colors and shapes melded into one strange blob the longer you sat in the examination room. After a few excruciating minutes of the ERâs doctor trying to get all the shards of hardened ice out of your arm, you were stitched up and given a heavy dose of painkillers, enough to knock out a horse.
But, you resolutely stayed awake, afraid that if you closed your eyes, something bad would happen.
Immediately once the minor surgery on your arm had concluded, Zayne had disappeared from your side, and you assumed he was downstairs by the general admissionâfilling up your details. He had stayed with you long enough for the extraction, giving you his hand to hold, though he remained tight-lipped and pale throughout the entire ordeal.
You wanted to see him again, even if it was for a few minutes.Â
When the curtain parted, you looked up, expecting to find a pair of emerald green eyes, but were greeted with a pair of worried purple ones, instead.
âHey, Pipsqueak. Zayne called me the second you got in. Grandma couldnât come because she wasnât feeling too well.â Caleb shifted the drapes aside, slowly stepping into your ward. He sat down on the chair by your bedside, the bags under his eyes heavy though his smile still held a teasing quality you were familiar with.
âCaleb?â you winced at how rough your voice sounded, reaching for the water bottle by your bedside. He beat you to it, grabbing the plastic bottle and tipping your head up, helping you drink.
Once your throat wasnât drier than the desert, you sat up, the woozy sensation exacerbated from your sudden motion.Â
âHey,â he whispered, rushing to steady you. âSlow down. Youâre injured, Pipsqueak.â He rearranged you back onto the bed, expression pinched. âWhat happened? Zayne sounded frantic on the phone and thatâs something new. Always thought he could disable a ticking time bomb with how unruffled he is.âÂ
Despite poking fun at his childhood friend, it didnât bring a smile onto your face. Caleb ditched his sunny disposition, becoming serious.Â
âY/N, are you okay? Youâre acting strange. Did⊠did Zayne hurt you?â
Immediately, you whipped your head towards him, eyes wide. âN-no! Of course, not. Why would you think that?â You struggle to speak past the drugs making you slur. âHe⊠he didnât hurt me. Brought me to the hospital. I tripped.âÂ
A lame conclusion. Calebâs eyes narrow, and heâs about to ask you again, when a familiar voice interrupts.
âShe needs to rest. I thought I told you to come by in the morning?â
Zayneâs frosty glare sets off Calebâs strained smile. Your childhood best friend's nostrils flare, and the whites of his teeth shine like the edge of a knife when he stands up to greet Akso Hospitalâs best surgeon.Â
âYou made it sound like she was dying so of course I came as fast as I could.â Casting his amethyst eyes to yours, Calebâs feral smile softens. âYouâre right. I can see she needs some rest. Letâs goââ He clasps a hand on Zayneâs shoulder, and you donât have to be on the receiving end to know Caleb was using his Evol to tighten his grip on your boyfriend.Â
âYou and I have a lot to discuss.â
Zayne grimaces, and you shoot him an apologetic smile.
Caleb turns to you with a cheery wave. You mouth donât kill him and he rolls his eyes.
Iâll try not to, he mouths back.
Then, the curtains droop close and you settle back on the hard pillow, freefalling into a dreamless sleep.
Something was off the second you woke up.
Firstly, Zayne wasnât with you again.Â
It was Calebâs dark bedhead which greeted you, his face inches from your arm, eyes closed and breathing steady.
You lean up, wincing when you felt your stitches pulling.Â
âHey,â you whisper, touching your best friend's broad shoulder. âCaleb? Whyâre you still here?â
He groans, groggily opening his eyes. âM-morning, Pipsqueak,â he staggers through a yawn. âWhat time is it?âÂ
âI donât know,â you whisper, feeling a huge migraine clustering behind your eyes. âUgh, whereâs Zayne?âÂ
At the mention of your boyfriend, Caleb blinks, wide awake now. âAh. He told me he had some emergency surgeries lined up. Heâs probably working.â
Oh. You fall into a disquiet, staring at the swathing white blankets. That uneasy feeling was back again.
âDid he say when he would be done?âÂ
âI donât know,â Caleb confessed. âBut, you have his schedule, so I think youâd know better than me, Pipsqueak.â
Right. Zayne was your boyfriend. Caleb would barely know the guy if it wasnât for your insistence in the both of them meeting up once a month for dinner with Grandma.
Swallowing your disappointment down, you plaster on a bright smile. âAre you up for some coffee today? Youâre always complaining about the ones at the Academy.â
Caleb smiles, and leans forward to ruffle your hair. âYâknow, if this was a normal day, I would totally take you up on your offer,â he becomes serious now. âBut, youâre still healing, Pipsqueak. And caffeine is bad. Let me call the nurse to check on you first, okay?â
You nod, watching his broad back disappear out into the halls.Â
Fidgeting, you touch your bandaged arm, recalling the clammy silence last night as Zayne drove to Akso Hospital; his jaw tense and eyes steadfastly not meeting yours.
Heâs probably angry at himself, you reasoned. Zayne always was harder on himself than anybody else, and the guilt could be eating him alive.Â
Feeling slightly reassured that nothing bad would happen, you lean back against the pillows again, closing your eyes.
You fell back asleep the second Caleb reappeared with the nurse; both of them politely closing the door and giving you some time to rest, your best friendâs eyes lingering right on your exhausted expression.
âGoodnight, Pipsqueak,â he whispers into the still air which was permeated with your steady breathing. âSee you later.â
That night, you woke up to an icy cold hand in yours.
Fluttering your lashes, you find Zayne with his eyes closed and head bent forward, one hand in yours and the other braced on his forehead.
âZayne?âÂ
He thaws from his uneasy doze, woozy emerald eyes widening slightly at your relieved expression.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers the second he finds his voice. âI lost control. I⊠I hurt you.â That last part was spat out, as if he was firmly disgusted with his lack of composure. âIt was dangerous of me to even be next to you. I was aware of my nightmares and my Evol has been unstable as of late. I put you in harmâs way and I am forever sorry for doing so, my Aurora.â
His lips were cool on the back of your hand, those brilliant eyes fogged over with an unfathomable expression.
âZayne⊠itâs okay.â
They flare back to life, this time electrified with an untamed emotion. âOkay?â he says slowly, like he couldnât believe his sins were absolved that easily. âIâve hurt you and all you can say is âokayâ? Y/N, please. Be reasonable.âÂ
You open your mouth to counter his harsh words, but his hand had already detangled from yours. Zayne stood up, the look on his face awfully cold and distant.
âI donât think this will work out.â
What? You wanted to voice out, but your words were stuck behind the lump in your throat. âZayneâŠâÂ
You reached out for him, but all you felt was cold air where his warmth once stood. He had backed away, expression closed off and frigid. Shame and hurt filled you, threatening to pour out from your eyes.
He couldnât bear to look at you, those emerald eyes latched to a water stain on the ceiling as if it was more interesting than the girl whose heart he was breaking right in front of him.
âWhat do you mean by that?â you demand, though it sounds like a plea in your thick voice. âZayne, it was a mistake. A one-time thing. Donât make it bigger than what it is. Please. Letâs talk this outââ
âNo,â he stood to his full height, looking at you down the line of his nose. âItâs not something we can talk about. Youâre better off without me, and I, you. I will drop your things off at your apartment the moment I get off work. Goodbye, Y/N.â
Hot pain sliced through your soul, leaving a gash where he once stood.
âNo,â you murmured, though you were speaking to the thin air. Zayne had already turned and left. âZayne? Zayne! Come back, we can talk it outââ
You tried to stand and run after him, but your body was weakened from the medication and lack of movement. Stumbling back, you sat on the edge of your bed, fisting the sheets and fighting back the urge to scream at him to come back. There was nothing you could do except watch the broadness of his back leave, disappearing down the hall and around the corner.
Easy. How easy it was for him to break things off like this.
Like you didnât even matter.
You hang your head forward, the misting tears in your eyes pooling onto your lash line. You had no idea how long you stayed like this; frozen, immobile. Waiting for him to come back.
The curtains opened again, and you expected Zayne to be there with a change of heart. But, when you saw it was Caleb instead, carrying a box of doughnuts and his signature easy going smile, you couldnât help the pang of disappointment coruscating on your trembling lips.
He sensed something was wrong the second you didnât greet him, and he was right when he sat beside you and you broke down into tears.
Sorry, you gasped in between sobs. Iâm so sorry. Iâm usually stronger than this.Â
Caleb didnât push you or demand you tell him the reason why you were crying. He held you close instead, patting your head. When you wouldnât stop sobbing, he rubbed your back, telling you in his low, reassuring voice that you were going to be okay.
He never did find out why you were crying, and neither did you voluntarily supply any information.Â
But, when he took you home the next day and found your things neatly packaged in boxes waiting by the front door, it wasnât hard to put two and two together.
Zayne�
You flinched when Caleb mentioned his name.
For a single second, neither of you said anything.
Caleb exhaled noisily, gripping your shoulder and pulling you into his one-arm hug. âIâm going to kill him for what he did to you.â
âNo need,â you surprised him and yourself by how emotionless you sounded; nothing but exhaustion and resignation in your tone.
âIt wouldn't be worth itânot at all.â
For days after that, you threw yourself back into your work.
The second Jenna called for volunteers for a dangerous mission, your hand would almost always shoot up. It didnât matter how bad the fluctuations were or how big the threat wasâyour name was almost always on the list every single day. Even Xavier was starting to notice how impulsive you were becoming, though his worry was more subtle than the rest of your nagging colleagues (read: Tara).
âWouldnât your doctor boyfriend worry about you throwing yourself in such situations?âÂ
You fight back a wince, polishing the nozzle of your Hunter gun. Of course. None of your workmates knew the truth; they all still assumed you and Zayne were together.
âNo, he wouldnât,â you reply back mildly, eyeing the barrel down with a grimace. âHe doesnât care if I live or die.â
A gloved hand picks the gun from you, and you turn to find him frowning. Xavierâs pinched expression spoke volumes, though he didnât ask any follow-up questions.Â
Neither of you broke the silence, until you heard the gun clatter back down onto the floor accompanied by his tired sigh.Â
âThere are many, many stars in the night sky, Y/N,â he starts. You turn to him with a frown.Â
Where is he going with this?
Xavier continues. âEven if one dies or explodes, another one will take its place. Donât lose your light for a star who refuses to shine for you.â
Standing up, he extends a hand towards you.
âSince youâre not in the best of moods, I was thinking we could have some lamb hotpot tonight. What do you think? Iâll let you choose most of the ingredients.â
Though the idea of food sounded unappealing, you couldnât help but smile at his attempts to cheer you up.
Taking his hand, you nod.Â
âSure. Can I also pick our second soup base?â
He huffed a laugh. âWhy not, huh? You can hog most of the dipping sauce, too. I wonât complain.â
It was the first time in days since you had smiled, the expression foreign and almost painfully pulling your cheeks.
But, you do it anyway.
Despite his odd allegory, Xavier was right.Â
Even if someone took their light away from you, it didnât mean you had to stop yourself from shining again.
Zayne may have been the brightest star in your universe, but at the end of the day, you were the fucking sun.
And no one could take away your light without your permission, no matter how hard they tried.
Another long night at the ER, another cup of coffee.
Zayne puts down his glasses with a sigh, and hears his office phone beep. He barely has time to steel himself when the message comes through, urgent and demanding.Â
âDr. Zayne? Itâs Dr. Lewis here. We have a code red down by Bloomshore Forest. Something about a fluctuation. Most of the injured are Hunters.â
His heart rate spikes and he immediately stands.
Itâs been more than a week since he last saw you, and Zayne was almost at the end of his emotional tether. He had reacted poorly to the entire ordeal, and was now facing the repercussions of his hasty actions.
Nights were spent tossing and turning, his nightmares coming back at full force. Sometimes, he woke up and padded into the living room, trying to find respite on the couch where your old t-shirt still lay, smelling of you and his regrets.Â
When he woke up, there was no one to greet him or kiss his cheek with her morning breath. No one who hummed in the shower while she got ready for work or left loud, theatrical smooches on his cheek before she rushed out of the door.Â
There was no you in his life anymore.
Zayne was tired of shadow fighting with demons he couldnât see.
Plain and simpleâhe missed you.Â
And right now, he had to see if you were one of the injured; Zayne would never forgive himself if something happened to you and he couldnât make amends.Â
Rushing down the freeway, he passed by signs of destruction everywhere; torn up trees, fractured roads. Wanderers who left a trail of discord and mayhem wherever they went.
The flickering blue and red lights were what caught his attention, and he quickly disembarked from his car, hurrying to the thick of the commotion. Tents were set up, medical personnel running to and fro.Â
Someone recognized him and handed him a pair of scrubs and gloves. Zayne immediately got to work the second Greyson approached him, gray in the face from fatigue.
âDr. Zayneââ
âGive me a rundown, Dr. Greyson,â he mutters, hurrying to the closest tent.Â
âFour injured and about ten with minor abrasions,â his assistant started, âWe counted about two missing from the fray. A Mr. Xavier and⊠Miss Y/N.â
No.Â
At the mention of your name, Zayne stopped in his tracks.Â
Greyson looked apologetic, though for what, Zayne had no idea.
âWhen was her last contact?â he didnât mean for his voice to rise, but it did, betraying his stress and fear over your whereabouts.Â
âTwo hours ago. A comm signal right in the middle of the N109 Zone.â
Zayne swore he felt his heart drop right into his boots. He gapes, opens his mouth and closes it, but no sound escapes.
âDr. Zayne?âÂ
Greyson was waiting for his response. Zayne had to react, fast.Â
âSet up the operation room for the four injured and get me a line with the closest hospital for blood transfusions. We need as many supplies as we can get our hands on. Has the Association been notified of their two missing Huntersâ?âÂ
Before Zayne could finish his sentence, a commotion stirs at the fringes of the forest.Â
Several people yell, and he looks up in time to find a limping figure supporting someone else.Â
Your silhouette solidifies in the half light, dirt and blood caked on your face and limbs. Greyson gasps as well, muttering oh thank goodness.Â
A nurse with a blanket rushes over to you and a fair-headed man whom he assumes is Xavier, wrapping the both of you in the thick fabric.Â
Greyson doesnât notice how his attention has waned, locked right on your smiling yet exhausted face. âWeâre establishing a line with Marisoâs hospital down the blockâhey, Dr. Zayne?âÂ
He zeroes in back on his assistant with a firm nod. âDo it, then. And keep me updated on the progress.â
Thereâs a pause.
âArenât you going to speak to her?â Greyson asks, curiosity lingering at the thought of why his superior wasnât going to greet his girlfriend. Zayne takes one last look at you, and he drops his gaze.Â
âNo. I do not want to overwhelm her before her evaluations.â Straightening, he nods. âLetâs proceed with the different evals and prep. Line up the next surgery for hour 2045.â
There would be no time to let his heart take the lead.Â
He had to focus on the task at hand.
Greysonâs expression fades in and out of focus. Zayne notices that Xavier has his hands on your face, inspecting a nasty cut on your cheek.
How easy it was for you to replace himâŠ
âHour 2045, surgery #1 is confirmed, Dr. Zayne.â
He tears his gaze away from you and nods; ignoring the hollow pang in his chest.Â
âLetâs get it started, then.â
You didnât expect to see Zayne in the distance when you returned back from a near death experience.Â
A part of you wonders if your mind is playing tricks on you; if the adrenaline has you seeing things your tired brain canât catch up with.
But, there he stands. Forlorn yet imposing. Expression a blank sleet.Â
You swear he looks over in your direction, but when you look up, heâs walking away with a colleague, head bent low and eyes firmly on his tablet.Â
How easy it is for him to walk away from me.Â
âHey.â Xavier brings you back to the present with a small smile and a cup of coffee in one hand. âNo cream and three spoonfuls of sugar. Just like how you prefer it.â
You crack a smile, accepting the cup. âAre you sure you didnât burn it this time?â
He chuckles, taking the spot next to you. âI told the nurse she had to make it and not me, so I wasnât involved in the process whatsoever.â Your hunting partner blows steam off the cup, pursing his lips to sip on the dark liquid.
âMhm. See? Sweeter than my burnt coffee.â
You follow suit and take a sip, nodding in agreement. âYouâre right. It does taste better.â
Xavier follows your line of sight when he realizes youâre quieter than usual. His azure eyes land on the surgery tent in the distance where a few figures were milling around.Â
âAre you worried for Tara?âÂ
You grip your cup tighter, fighting back a wave of self-loathing at what you had done.
âIf I hadnât asked her to accompany me near the fringe, none of this wouldâve happened.â Your shoulders slump forward, and you feel Xavier shifting closer. âItâs all my fault, Xav. I couldâve gotten her killed.â
At the realization, tears prick your eyes. His arm hovers in your periphery and you sniff, imperceptibly nodding.
He wraps you in his one-sided embrace, holding your face close to his shoulder. âYou couldnât have known a protofield of that size would open. Itâs not your fault.â
You thought back to Taraâs scared cries; how she dove head first to the ground to dodge the energy surges of that Berserk Wanderer.
The both of you wouldâve perished if Xavier hadnât stepped in at the last minute, breaking the field and swooping in to save you two.
âI need to apologize to her when sheâs done,â you mumble softly, âI canât get that mental image of her hurt out of my mind.â
As you spoke, someone familiar approached you. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a tight smile, Akso Hospitalâs Dr. Greyson beckoned you over with a wave.
You shrugged Xavierâs arm off you and stood up, confusion clearly in your gaze.
âHello! Miss Y/N, right? Dr. Zayneâs girlfriend? I need you to sign here as a witness for Miss Tara since her family is out of state.â
He procured a document and a pen. You took them mutely, unsure if it was rude to correct him on your updated status in Zayneâs life. But, figuring that it would be best not to trauma dump on a stranger, you sign your name on the dotted line without much resistance.
âWonderful. Thank you. Dr. Zayne will step out and see you in a bit once he has some free time. In any case, please stay here and do not wander back for anymore Wanderers. We canât have anymore of Linkonâs brightest Hunters hurt!â
Chipper and happy like he wasnât in the middle of a dire situation, Greyson left you and Xavier alone.
âNice guy.â
âHmm,â you sit back down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. âZayneâs colleague. Older than him but a sweet one. I used to bribe him with fried chicken to get ZayneâsâŠâ your breathing hitched, and you clear your throat. â... work schedule.â
Xavierâs body stiffens underneath your cheek and you immediately retract yourself away from him. âSorry,â you mumble, unsure what had gotten into you; how you couldâve let yourself get this comfortable with your fellow Hunter of all people.
But, he shakes his head, patting his shoulder. âYou can rest here if you want. I know youâre tired. I am, too.â
Cautiously, you lean your head back on his shoulder, eyes closing.
Xavierâs cheek gently rests on your head, and you hear him exhale tiredly. âIâm dead on my feet.â
âMhm hmm,â you mumble, fighting the exhaustion caking heavily on your lids. âI could close my eyes and sleep for days.â
âThat sounds like a wonderful time.â
The both of you take a second to rest, trying to recenter yourselves back to the reality of being safe and sound away from those terrifying Wanderers.Â
You hear someone approaching, gravel crunching underneath a pair of boots.
âY/N?âÂ
His soft voice fringes on your consciousness, and your eyes flutter open.
Zayne stands before you, tall and intimidating. There was no spark in his lustreless green eyes which flickered towards the dozing man by your side and then back to yours. You suddenly feel cold all over, like shards of ice were prickling underneath your skin.
It doesnât matter what it looks like to him, you glance at Xavier and pat his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up. Zayne and I are long over.Â
âI need to run a checkup on you. Hunter Associationâs orders. Can you follow me, please?âÂ
Xavier stirs the second you nod, and releases you from the swathes of blankets. A clash of azure blue meeting clear green; both men staring each other down while you shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
âMake sure sheâs all right,â Xavier says in a soft voice, though you donât miss the steel underneath it.
Zayne nods, and turns around. Barely even looking back to see if you were following him.
Wordlessly, you limp after his broad back, consciously touching your face and trying to smooth your hair down.
Inside the tent, Greyson smiles and leaves you two alone for the first time in days.
Thereâs a makeshift desk and a chair beside it. An examination bed that had been hastily drawn open stands, forlorn and waiting.
You take a seat by the desk, hands laced onto your lap and eyes on the dirt-packed floor.Â
âAre you alright?âÂ
You donât delude yourself into thinking there was a hint of concern in his tone. Zayne was just being your primary care physician at this momentânothing more than his appointed role in your life.
But, wasn't there a time when he was more than this?Â
You shake off those thoughts, giving him one-worded answers.Â
âYes.â
He drags the chair by the desk and sits on it, unfurling a binder and picking up a pen. It clicks loudly in the silence, exacerbating how alone you two were with each other.
âAny dizziness? Loss of hearing?âÂ
You shake your head. âNo, Dr. Zayne. I feel fine.â
âPlease look at me in the face. I am trying to give you an evaluation for your Associationâs report and I need to make sure you meet the health standard.â
Exasperation mingled with professional arrogance laced his tone. You bristled, but did as you were told, lifting your face to meet his eyes.
Those green orbs were galaxies you could get lost in. Swallowing hard, you repeat what you had said, this time in a forceful tone. âI feel fine, Dr. Zayne.â
You make sure to emphasize on his title, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.
How you had cried for nights on end when he wouldnât return your calls or messages and now here he wasâfeeling more like a stranger day by day.
You promised yourself you wouldn't be that stupid, brokenhearted girl anymore. This would be the last time you let Zayne play with your resolve and mind.
He picked up a flashlight, beckoning you closer. Cool fingers touched your face, and you nearly flinched when the bright beam permeated your irises.Â
âMy apologies,â he mumbled, and you thought he meant the intrusive medical checkup when his next words catch you by surprise. âI didnât have time to answer your calls or messages. I was busy cleaning up after last weekâs attack. Please, forgive me.â
He whispers that last part and your mind blanks.
You donât know what to say, or how to react. So, you settle for silence.
Zayne frowns, clicks off the flashlight. He writes down his findings and brings out his stethoscope.Â
The cool circle touches your pulse point, your chest. He closes his eyes, listens to your heart.
âItâs beating faster than usual,â he mumbles, removing eartips and going back to his report. âAny fatigue? Dizziness? Perhaps vertigo hitting you when you least expect it?â
You shake your head. âIâm fine, Dr. Zayne. I told you.â Sighing, you plaster your eyes back to the ground to avoid his piercing stare. âI donât think you should waste your time on me. There are other patients who need your expertiseâstarting with Tara. But, thank you for seeing me, anyway.â
He doesnât get a chance to dismiss you before youâre standing up and walking out of the tent with your head hung low.
Zayne doesnât call you back, and neither do you turn around to give him one last look, like you always do before you leave his office.
Meters of silence and unsaid words stretch between the both of you; coldness replacing once fond memories.
The flap of the tent falls close and a forlorn wind whistles through the air, ruffling the papers on his desk.
Zayne tears his eyes off your form, ignores how his heart squeezes when he sees you returning back to Xavierâs side.Â
The other man smiles at you, and the look on your face is far from detached. Warm and inviting, Zayne canât recall when was the last time you looked at him like that.
Shit.
Never one to be steeped in regret, Zayne finds himself wishing he could turn back the hands of time; change his actions the second after he had lost control of his Evol.
Not only had he injured you, but he had left you behind like so many others did before.Â
That was the one thing he promised your Grandma that day he dropped by for lunch: I will protect her with everything I have, maâam. I will never leave her alone for long.
And this was the best he could give you? Broken promise after broken promise?
For the first time in his life, he feels like a failure; an idiot with nothing but a lofty title and his big-headed ego.
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
Zayne grimaces, knowing how well you could hold a grudge if you wanted to. It looks like he has to temporarily play the role of the fool to get you back.
However, he relents and accepts his fate: this Herculean task of winning back your heart.
He would never say it out loud, but he admired your tenacity and determination; how you would always stick to your principles and never let yourself be swayed by a different current.
Reclaiming back your love wasnât going to be an easy task. You would put him through the wringerâhe was sure of that.
But, itâs what he deserves; what he could stomach and take after treating you so cruelly.
It was time to let the begging game begin.Â
â... Tara, what the heck is all this?â
You had walked into work one day to a deluge of roses heaping onto your desk. Tara was halfway signing off the delivery manâs note with a gleeful smile, before she turns and offloads the last huge bouquet into your arms.
âLooks like someoneâs ex-boyfriend misses her.â
She winks and skips away, leaving you floundering with at least six bouquets of blood red roses swarming around your desk.
You flush with embarrassment when Jenna walks in, her expression one of open curiosity at the sight of all those flowers.
âLooks like you have a secret admirer,â your boss muses. âOr, someoneâs boyfriend has done something really wrong. Wild shotâIâm leaning more towards the former.â
It was no secret you were dating Dr. Zayne, but to have it so brazenly rubbed into everyoneâs faces was making you cringe from head to toe.
âIâm so sorry, Jenna,â you blurt. âIâll toss this all out. Donât want bees in anyoneâs hair.â
You chuckle nervously when she gives you a look.
âOh, donât be silly. Just hand them to the gardener downstairs. Iâm sure sheâll know what to do with them. Such pretty flowers would be wasted in the trash.â
Nodding, you pick up every single bouquet, struggling to not drop one on your way out of the office. Tara sits smugly behind her desk, not even offering to help; wanting to see how far your pettiness could take you.
âGood⊠morning?â
You peek past the crest of roses to find Xavierâs scrunched nose and confused expression examining the blooms in your arms.
âMorning,â you mutter hastily.
He drops his bag and plucks two bouquets from your arms.
âAre we throwing a party? Or, did someone from our department get engaged?â
You feel like you could spontaneously combust, steeling yourself to reply to his innocent question.
âThese are⊠for me. I think.â
Xavier pauses mid-stride, glancing at you through lowered, ash blonde lashes.
âOh. Are they from Zayne?â
You pretend not to feel your heart soar in your ribcage at the mention of his name, preferring to plaster on an irritated glare.
âI hope not. That wouldnât make any sense.â
Xavier doesnât prod anymore, and neither do you offer to keep the conversation rolling.
He helps you duly dispose of the roses, the gardenerâs toothy smile a small consolation for saddling her with this many blooms.
Once you get back to your desk, you pick up your phone and bring up Zayneâs name, finger hovering over the call button.
But, you change your mind at the last minute and click on the chat bubble option.
Please donât tell me you robbed an entire florist to send me those roses.
Send.
Instantly, a chat bubble appears, his reply coming faster than you expected.Â
Your accusation is inaccurate. I did, in fact, leave the old man a huge tip for procuring those roses in record time. Youâre welcome.
Brows knitted together, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.
I donât want them. Please, donât waste your time or effort on me anymore. Itâs not worth it.Â
The bubble appears again. Then, it disappears. Reappears.
You wait on the other end with baited breath. Never did a pair of ellipses make your chest hurt this painfully; wildly thrumming heart caught in your throat.
Your tone suggests I am far from forgiven for what I did. If that is the case, would you like to join me for dinner at The Promenade tonight? I recall you adore their chestnut ice-cream. I can pick you up from your apartment. I would very much like to make amends, Y/N.Â
Clear and dry cut. Zayne was putting all his cards on the table for you to pick apart and prod.
You switch your screen off, unable to formulate a response.
The memory of how coldly he had treated you resurfaces; the cruel blankness on his face. The ease in which he left you like a man who had done it many, many times before.
Tightening your hands into fists, you fight back a fresh wave of tears which threaten to take you under.
Someone clears their throat, and you snap back to the present, blinking hard and pretending you had something in your eye.
Bless his heart, Xavier willfully ignores your lapse of control; he gives you a small smile, gesturing towards the pantry. âThey⊠just brought in some new instant noodle flavors. I was going to make a cup. Do you want some?â
You plaster on a fake smile, nodding. Suddenly, your stomach rumbles, and he exhales a laugh at the well-timed interjection. Â
âNoted. The beef broth one?â
âSounds good.â
âRoger that,â he turns on his heel, and you donât know what possessed you to call him back. He turns, waiting for you to speak.
âWhatâre you doing tonight?â you blurt, and he pauses, tilting his head to the side.
âNot much. I have this movie I really want to watch. Why? Wanderer hunting?â
Knowing it was your favorite thing to do to let off some steam, he waits for you to formulate your response.
âNo. I need to inspect something. At that forest again. Something about the fluctuation pattern those few nights ago⊠Something doesnât add up.â
Xavier considers it, shifting from one foot to another. âAnd if we do find it? What, then?â
âWe come back here and fill in the team,â you mutter. âAnd we can finally match the fluctuation pattern to Onichynusâ fabricated Protofield. It would give us a clue to their plans.â
Despite his reservations at letting you delve deeper into this conspiracy theory, Xavier had a hunch that if he didnât follow you, you were bound to do it on your own.
Whatever happened between you and Zayne mustâve driven you down this frenzied yet determined path; choosing to prioritize your job over the feelings you havenât sorted out yet.
And who was Xavier to complain? If he had a few more moments to spend with you, he would take it, no matter the motivation.
âSure,â he shrugs. âIâll meet you tonight at the Fringe. 8 oâclock.â
You nod, casting your eyes back to your phoneâs dull screen. Zayneâs text message taunts you, and you sensed there would be hell to pay for ignoring him.
But, you turn off those thoughts and focus on your desktop, sorting out your emails and mission debriefs.
There were more urgent things on your plate that needed your focus than an indecisive ex-boyfriend.
The biggest storm of your life was on the horizon, and you were so sure that come tonight, you would finally get the answers you needed.
The tapping of his fingers on the table resounds like a metronome in this quiet restaurant.
Zayne picks up his cup of water, brings it to his lips and pauses. Setting it back down, he glances at his watch for what feels like the 178th time in an hour. A bouquet of fresh jasmines lie on his lap, and he thinks they might be wilting by the second for every minute you donât show up.
Though it was unlike him to jump to conclusions, Zayne held a small flicker of hope that you would change your mind and see him tonightâdespite how his text to you remains unanswered.
Someone clears their throat, knocking him out of his reverie.
âSir, may I bring you some appetizers while you wait?âÂ
The waiterâs smile is thin, and behind his sincere question, Zayne senses the pity shining in his eyes.
It bothers him, somehow, that people would feel sorry for him.Â
If anything, he thinks they should mind their own business; not jump to conclusions.
He heaves in a deep breath and shakes his head. âNo. Please, get me the bill. I apologize for taking up your time.âÂ
The waiter nods and disappears back to the kitchenâpresumably to gossip to his colleagues about a random lonely man he had to serve tonight who was stood up by his date.
Somewhere to his right, a table full of young women were eyeing him, whispering behind their manicured hands. But, he pays them no attention, signing the bill and standing up, clutching the bouquet of flowers by his side.
Zayne steps out of the restaurant, and notices the darkening sky roiling above.Â
It was going to rain tonight and he hoped that wherever you are, you would have an umbrella on hand. He wouldnât want you to get sick, and was about to pull out his phone and remind you when he stops short at a message flashing across his screen.
Sheâs hurt.
Dr. Greysonâs chat bubble appears, and then pauses. It starts typing again, and Zayne holds his breath, suddenly feeling uneasy all over.
Your girlfriend. You need to come to the hospital now.
He barely wastes anytime, rushing right to his car. Zayne guns it down the highway, straight for the hospital, no thought in his mind besides worrying for your safety. When he arrives, it was like that night he met you near the Forest; a nurse was hurrying into the ER, someone was yelling for more bags of blood, and there, in the fray, was Xavier, broad sword strapped to his back.
âWhat happened?â
Zayne feels his heart in his throat when Xavier turns to him, grim in the face.
âA calculated attack⊠an explosion.â
âExplosion?â The surgeon feels like his head is about to combust. A vein throbs in his temple and he narrows his eyes. âWhat caused it? Is she okay?â
âIâm trying to find out, too,â Xavier mumbles back. âBesides, it was my fault. You don't have to worry anymore after what you did to her.â
Frost sparks on his fingertips, and Zayne tries to control his temper; willing his Evol to stay in line.
It wouldnât be wise to lash out at Xavier; it would do nothing but make you madder at him.
âWhich surgery room is she in? I can help resuscitate her if necessary.â
The Hunter opens his mouth, but it's Dr. Greyson who interjects. âDr. Zayne, sheâs in Operation Theatre 2. Awaiting anesthesia.âÂ
Zayne turns on his heel, leaving Xavier alone with his silent judgement.
âI need a full body evaluation on the patient to determine the exact location of overpressures and debris. Keep the defibrillator on standby. What category is the blast coded as?â
âTertiary, Dr. Zayne.â
He swore under his breath, wincing. The same blunt force injuries that would traumatize a person who was involved in a car crash, fall, or collapsing building.Â
What did you get yourself into, Y/N?Â
Zayne has no time to ruminate; he has to save your life.
A hand on his shoulder stops him. Greysonâs heavy eyes permeate through his soul, rooting him to the spot. For a single second, the fatherly concern shining in his gaze reminded him of another elderly doctor; one who was forever lost in Mount Eternal. âAre you sure you can do this, Dr. Zayne? Are you well enough to take on this task?â
The implicit concern was clear.
This is your girlfriend weâre talking about. Can you handle trying to bring her back from the brink of death?
Zayne nods, bracing himself for another long night.
âI will try to undertake this with everything I have, Dr. Greyson.âÂ
He stops, correcting himself. âI have to undertake this with everything I have, Dr. Greyson. I believe I do not have a choice.â
Suspended. Floating.
Trapped.
It was completely dark where you were, no light but a flickering blue ember in the distance. Reaching out to it, you found it dancing just out of your reach; taunting you with even more confusion.Â
You had no idea how you came to be here or what happened that led you to this strange place.Â
In this limbo, time neither exists nor moves forward.Â
You were just here. Just being.
Hours mustâve passed. Or, was it days?
You felt a softness wrap around you. Once or twice, you thought you remembered the feel of someoneâs lips on your forehead. The shape of a hand whose fingers intertwined with yours. A whiff of a familiar cologne you couldnât quite place.
It was dark where you were, but you were never alone.
Someone was always beside you. Talking to you. Drawing you closer and closer to that blue flame.
â... Iâm sorryâŠâ
You caught that word a lot.
Sorry.Â
Sorry.Â
But, for what?
Who was that voice apologizing to?Â
And what had they done wrong?
You would never know the answer. Except, one day, it appears before you, shining like a periwinkle blue sky opening to a new world.
The blue flame glows brighter, almost encompassing you.Â
Please⊠Iâm scaredâŠÂ
You tried to scream, tried to push back.
But, it grew bigger and brighter. About to swallow you whole.
Was this how a new star was born? Did they see an unbearably bright light before they were engulfed in the flames of being?Â
Were you a star right now?
The flames hurtâfuck, they were lapping at your hands. Your arms. Your flesh turns a sickly pale blue, about to drop off your bones.
But, you donât fight back this time. The burn feels almost sacrificial. Sacred.
Like a ritual you had to push through to see the other side.
So, you gritted your teeth and dug your heels in the ground; staying absolutely still. Letting the embers flicker at your feet, caress your sides and hair.
â... sheâs waking up!â
â... quick⊠nurse!âÂ
âZayne⊠sheâs backâŠâ
Thereâs a commotion in the distance. You feel like youâre about to orbit another universe, your space ship drifting and attempting to dock with this strange planetâs gravity system.Â
The bright light pierces through your sticky lids, and you feel askew, like you could fall off this new planetâs axis anytime.
A familiar sharp scent permeates your nose, and you groan, the sound low and groggy.
âSsh, donât be scared.â His voice is familiar, a low timber which sounds exactly like home. âIâve got you. Come back when it feels safe for you.â
Despite your hesitation, you drift back into the abyss, feeling the warmest brush of lips on your forehead again.
You want to reach out to that bright light, hold it in the middle of your palm. Fighting hard now, you wade past the molasses of your sluggish mind, forcing one eyelid to pry open. And then, another.
Finally, you blink, slow and unhurried. Swiveling your head to the side, it felt like you were in slow motion, every action delayed by three seconds.
The word was entirely made up of a blur. It was all too white. Too loud.
Someone cradles your face, and your world tilts. You find yourself sitting up slightly, a familiar face you knew and loved swimming into view.
His bright green eyes solidify, and you make a sound in the back of your throat.
âItâs alright,â he whispers, full of reassurance and relief. âItâs quite alright, my Aurora. Youâre safe now. Safe here.â
âZ⊠Zay⊠Zayne?âÂ
You force your tongue to cooperate; it feels like a clumsy eel in your mouth, twisting and turning in a slippery mess. Moans and low grunts emitted from the back of your throat, and you wince with every word you struggle (and fail) to enunciate.
âSsh,â he mumbles, and you feel something circular and hard slipping in between your lips. âItâs water. You have to drink it from the straw. Do you remember how to sip?â
The motion comes back after a few tries, and you hesitantly imbibe the cooling liquid.Â
âGood girl,â he whispers, patting your head gently.Â
You struggle to pin your eyes on him, wondering what type of lights were shining above for him to appear so bedazzlingly in front of you.
The room is empty, and itâs only him here with you. Outside, the world was pitch black, but here, you feel like every beam was dancing in Zayneâs eyes; the relief in them washing over you, calming your spiking heart rate.
âYouâve been in a coma for three days, Y/N,â he informs in a low whisper, sitting beside you. Taking your hand, he presses it to his lips, kissing each knuckle reverently. âI donât want to push you, but you need to rest. You suffered quite the blast from that attack.â
It all came back to you in an instant: Xavierâs wide, azure eyes, the flash of golden light. Searing pain and an impenetrable darkness.
You start to shake, and Zayne notices, immediately bringing another blanket from your bedside shelf and wrapping you in it. When that doesn't work, he twines his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. Ever so tender, he cradles your body, gently rocking you from side to side like you were a terrified child.
âItâs alright. Itâs alright. Youâre alright. It is normal to feel shocked after what happened. But, youâre safe, my Aurora. I have made sure of that.â
You paw at his shirt, fighting to roll the words off your tongue; remembering the unanswered text message and your instant regret when you realized far too late during your failed mission that you had basically told him not to care for you anymore.
âS⊠SorryâŠâ
âPlease,â he says in a soft, tired voice. âNo more apologizing. Donât ever apologize, Y/N. It was never your fault.â
Zayne tilts your head up, his eyes soft and warm in the dark blue expanse of this hospital room. His thumb grazes your cheek, your jaw and lower lip.Â
âYou should rest,â he murmurs, smiling when you start to pout. âAlright, my love? I am right here. I will keep you safe.â Leaning forward, he presses the softest kiss to your forehead, its warmth achingly familiar.
âI love you. Pleaseârest.âÂ
You close your eyes, inhaling his comforting scent. Nodding off, the last thing you felt was his lips in your hair, his soft whisper of, âI am so sorry for how I treated youâ dissipating into the recesses of your subconscious.
Once more, you succumb to the darkness, but this time, you do so with open arms.
âBedrest and lots of fluids,â Dr. Carol says sternly, much to your chagrin.Â
Her salt and pepper eyebrows shoot up, daring you to fight back. You stay silent, staring at your lap glumly.Â
The day is much too nice to be bound in bed; sun streaming in through the frosted glass windows, cherry blossoms dotting the sill and bird song fills the airâthe heart of winter thawing right into a dazzling spring.Â
Zayne is beside you, holding onto your purse while the doctor gives her diagnosis, trying hard not to smirk at your crestfallen expression.Â
âI will write a note to the Hunters Association to give you a month off. Lay off the dangerous missions, wandering into closed off zones, and getting yourself into trouble.â
She signs the paper with a flourish, tears it, and hands it to Zayne. Not even giving you a chance to protest.Â
âThank you for the diagnosis, Dr. Carol,â your boyfriend says with a curt nod, pocketing the strip.
She returns his gesture, pushing her rimmed glasses up her blunt nose. âYou take care of her, Dr. Zayne. Keep her out of trouble.â
Zayne helps you stand, letting you lean against his arm for support. âOh, believe me. This little Hunter will be very well rested before sheâs finally allowed back onto the field.â
You fume next to him, though with your warming cheeks, Zayne thinks you look a lot like an adorably pissed chipmunk. Before the door closes, you remember to politely give a small bow to Dr. Carol, despite how you were livid at her treating you like a wayward child.Â
âDonât pout,â he murmurs, poking your side as you both tread down the narrow hallway. You flinch, glare deepening.Â
âWhat am I going to do for one month? Sit around and collect dust? Zayne, you have to speak to her. I canât stay at home all the time,â your tone goes whiny, and he musters a quick chuckle.
âDarling, you know I canât just interfere with another doctorâs advice. Besides, I wholeheartedly agree with the decided diagnosis.â
Warm sunlight spills across your cheeks; you take mincing steps, still getting used to walking after a full week of rotting on the hospital bed. But, Zayne is patient with you, holding onto your arm while he keeps you steady, matching his pace to yours.
He continues. âYouâve been overworking yourself since we took a break. You need to rest before your body shuts down.â
At the reminder of the separation you both endured, you made a face. âMaybe I shouldâve stayed broken up with you for a little while longer to find my answersâŠâ
âAnd risk throwing yourself headfirst into more conspiracy theories like a pig-headed fool? Be grateful we were given another chance,â he retorts without missing a beat. âYou would be severely injured if I werenât here to give you a voice of reason.â
You quieten, watching a cherry blossom break off a tall branch and float to the ground.Â
Zayne notices your silence, and nudges you. Glancing at him, you see a shadow of a smile etched on his lips.Â
âI know you must miss the outside. How about we come to an agreement? Take your medication, get loads of rest, and Iâll bring you out every evening to see the cherry blossoms. Would this be more suitable for a âpunishmentâ, my Aurora?â
Your heart skips a beat; youâve missed hearing your favorite term of endearment from him.
âOkay,â you murmur, considerably happier. âYouâve got yourself a deal.â Holding out your pinky right in his face, Zayne chuckles again, but indulges you, wrapping his smallest finger with yours.
âIt is a deal,â his voice is softer, fringed with amusement and tenderness.Â
Zayne is a man of extremes; rarely meeting you in the middle.
When Dr. Carol had advised against strenuous activities for at least a week while your body heals, she didnât take into account that Zayne would refuse to even touch you in any way other than as a caregiver.
He would fix your meals, help you around the house, and even tenderly bathe you if you so much as breathed a request for it.
But, he would neverâin any circumstancesâtake it further.
How long has it been since weâve last been together?
You fidget in your seat, staring out a window.Â
Far too long, the answer comes back to you like a nefarious whisper. You should do something about it.
And you do have a plan. Granted, itâs half-baked and needs a dash of liquid courage to work, but nevertheless, it was a plan.Â
Zayne would be home in exactly an hour, and that was the bulk of time needed for you to get ready.
You washed your hair, brushed your teeth, did your skincare and makeup; there was an attempt to style your locks but you gave up halfway only to let it air dry while you slipped on some silky lingerie. It was his favorite setâblack and lacy with a sheer mesh covering the cups that left little to the imagination.
Catching your lower lip in between your teeth, you try to rearrange yourself on the sofa, chest out and hoping your lipgloss hadnât faded yet; squirming to position your limbs so that it didnât look like you were a splayed starfish.
The door unlocks, and you hold your breath, a big grin fighting to break through your expression.
Zayne blinks the second he notices you, his doctor's coat bundled up in one arm and the other hand holding his briefcase.
â... Hello?â
You sit up, hoping to God you were at least seductive when you cross your legs, giving him a sweet smile.
âHello, doctor. Welcome home.â
Those gorgeous green eyes flit to your chest, and his jaw ticks under your scrutiny.
You expect him to at least compliment you, or ask what you were doing in bewilderment. Not sayâ
âYou are going to catch a cold if you keep this up.â
Before you can react, he sets down his briefcase and wraps you in his coat, drawing you to his side.
âZayneââ you mumble, dismayed. He keeps you tightly to his chest, like you were going to disintegrate without his support anytime soon. âZayne!â You fight free from his grasp, giving him an exasperated glare.
âHello? Here I am trying to seduce you, and you just mother henned me!â Pressing your palms flush to his broad pecs, you push him back firmlyâexasperatedly. âThis is so embarrassing!âÂ
Petering off into a whine, you huff and cross your arms. Missing how his eyes darken ever so slightly at the sight of the skimpy fabric stretching across your tight nipples.
Taking in a deep breath, Zayne fights the urge to throw you over his shoulder and give your ass a firm squeeze (or smack, seeing as how his self-control was steadily declining). You were making it so hard to keep his composure under lock and key. He channels that frustration into a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
âYou are single-handedly the most infuriating woman I know on this planet.â
Without warning, he nudges you back, until youâre flush with a wall. He leans forward, and you hold your breath, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw.
âYou know other women?âÂ
He canât fight back an exhaled laugh at your petulant words. âNo. Of course, not. None of them can compare to you, my Aurora.â
His minty cool breath fans across the sensitive strip of your neck, drawing goosebumps down your arms.Â
âYou are so infuriating,â he noses the length of your jaw, breathing you in. The heat emanating from his broad chest is overwhelming; it makes you dizzy with lust, thighs squeezing together to alleviate the tension throbbing in between them.Â
âA menace⊠youâre impossible to deal with.â
His large, veiny hands grip the fleshy domes of your ass, squeezing them heartily. âHavenât had you in so long.â Longing coats his every husky exhale. âI miss you so much⊠but, you arenât at your peak health, my love. I do not want to hurt you again.â
Zayneâs dizzying warmth distances away from you and you actually cry out softly, grappling onto his shoulders to keep him in place. He gasps, low and taken aback, hips clipping into yours.
âNo, pleaseâŠâ you feel your face burning up; never were you this desperate to feel him. âI need you, Zayne. I really, really need you.â
His groan reverberates in his chest, sounding like it came straight from his tortured soul. âYouâre going to kill me.â
âPlease,â you whimper. âI need you.â
Strong hands lift you up, pin you right to the wall.Â
Zayne doesnât give you any time to breathe. His mouth is on yours, ravenously drinking your moans and mewls.Â
For a man whose Evol is ice, his hands run ridiculously warm; grabbing at any flesh he can find purchase onâyour thighs, ass, breastsâsqueezing them firmly.Â
Fuck, you gasp into his mouth. Oh⊠ZayneâŠÂ
The room spins, nothing but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears filling your mind.
He sucks on your bottom lip, desperately rutting his hips into yours. You feel him growing harder against your thigh, straining behind his slacks.
Boldly, your tinier hand rests on his bulge.Â
Naughty girl, he rasps. Youâre asking for trouble now, little one.
A shiver runs up your spine which has nothing to do with his now colder hands running down your sides.
His Evol drops the temperature around the room, a faint glow of blue ice coating his fingertips. He runs those freezing pads down your exposed skin, catching right on the tops of your breasts. Your pelvis. Inner thighs.
You cry out when he teases your mound through the lace with those cold fingers, back arching wantonly.
âI want to see this pussy beg for me,â he murmurs. âI want to see her drip.â
Slowly, like you were a present he was leisurely unwrapping, Zayne pushes down your bra straps, until the cups are barely clinging to your heaving tits. He presses loving kisses down the strip of your throat, stopping shy of your areolas.Â
Stop teasing me, you whine, and his warm breath caresses your nipples as he exhales a laugh.Â
I canât⊠Iâm having too much fun, my Aurora.Â
He licks and sucks on them until theyâre dripping with his spit, achy and tender to the touch. While he loves on your nipples, one hand slips in between your thighs, finding your twitching center.
Zayne eases the seat of your panties out of the way, and you bite down on a whimper when the cool air brushes your swollen clit and damp folds.
âSo wet,â he murmurs. One finger drags through the slick mess, finding your clit and rubbing circles on it tenderly.Â
Proving he was more man than robot like how you always teased him, Zayne slides to his knees and looks up at you with pure devotion.
Iâm going to eat you out right now, my Aurora, he whispers. Is that alright with you?
Fuck, yes. You almost scream. He didnât need to even ask; you were begging for it. His tongue, friction, anythingâyou swore you were about to die from the anticipation.Â
Hitching your right leg over his shoulder, he eyes your pussy with a dark look, one which makes you think of a predator cornering his prey.Â
Sheâs so pretty, he muses. I wonder if sheâs missed me at all.
âYes,â you breathe into the darkening living room. The blinds are still wide open, streetlights staining his apartment floor a warm, orange glow.
Sheâs missed you so much, Zayne.Â
The sight of his pink tongue flitting out to touch the corners of his lips, the perfect arch of his cupidâs bow running against the slinky lace, almost makes you explode.
Prying your panties crotch to the side with his teeth, Zayne breathes in your scent, his perfect nose pressed right to your glistening cunt.
âGood,â he mumbles to himself. âBecause Iâve missed her like crazy, too.â
His tongue running through your folds catches you by surprise, your cry rebounding across the room.
If it werenât for his strong grip around your thighs and waist, you wouldâve melted to the floor like a snow draft on a hot summerâs day. Zayne held you up as he ate you out; lips and tongue giving you the sweetest friction you had been dreaming of.
Youâre so worked up, he breathes in between sinful licks. Zayne mouths your clit, tongue sliding through your folds like he was made for this. Thereâs nothing but the wet sounds of his mouth on you; his tongue flattens, and you drag your clit over it, hips twitching, getting yourself off.
His cock twitches and he knows he would be the one to swallow his own words; how he wants to get you dripping when heâs the one leaking in his pants like a horny teenager.
Fuck, fuck, Zayne mumbles, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. He bites on the plush flesh, loving how you tense and squeal.
His teeth grazes the sensitive flesh, making you flinch. Youâre so responsive, itâs making him heady.
Deep groans well from his broad chest, and you swell with pride. Only you had the power to make the reserved, stoic, measured Zayne go crazy on your taste.Â
And he duly gives you the credit you deserve.
âYou drive me insane,â he mumbles, lips brushing your skin.Â
Itâs intimateâhow heâs looking at you. Those thick, black lashes that frame his perfect emerald eyes lowering; lust pooling in their depths.Â
Zayneâs lips are puffy, coated with your juices. Thereâs a light pink dusting on the high of his cheeks.Â
âAre you alright?â he mumbles softly, running those large hands you love up and down your thighs.
You nod, teeth catching on your lower lip. âZayne,â softly, you voice your need. âCan you please fuck me?âÂ
How polite. He fights back a smirk, lowering your right leg back to the ground, giving your inner thigh a soft kiss.
He stands back to his full height, towering over you. His sheer size makes your heart quicken, and your back presses flush to the wall, anticipation right in your throat.
But, heâs gentle, as he always is, when he takes your hands, pressing them to his chest.
âUndress me first, my Aurora.â
A stern command wrapped in silkâI wonât touch you until you show me how much you want it.
Your shaky hands move to his shirt, tugging on it until those pesky white buttons loosen. Scars line his chest and pecs, each of them a road your tongue, lips and fingers have explored. Down his stacked torso, more of those white indents make a home on his skin, and you briefly touch them, grazing your fingers on the happy trail leading right to his defined âVâ.Â
The buckle of his belt goes next. You slip it off, working on his slacks and underwear. Zayne silently watches, not giving a reaction. He loves this part; how you huff and warmth surges on your cheeksâhating how much of a tease he was.
But, youâre always an obedient little thing for him.Â
You would do as he said, knowing the rewards that lie behind these slight humiliations.
He shrugs his shirt and pants off, and youâre already on him.
Fumbling in the cocooning darkness, your lips paint over his collarbone and neck, right to his jaw. Zayne leans down, kisses you fully on your mouth as he lifts you back into his arms.
Swiftly, your legs wrap around his narrow waist, and he brings you straight to the couch; too impatient for the bedroom.
Your back meets the soft surface, a cushion haphazardly arranged underneath your head so you didnât have to strain your neck.Â
The mastermind has thought of it all. Your musings were cut short when he unhooks your bra, a deft, fluid motion with little to no fumbling. A surgeonâs hands surely were the steadiest.
But, they trembled lightly when he plucked at the band of your thong, gently tugging it down your thighs.Â
Beautiful, he whispers, half to himself.Â
Zayne, please. You twine your fingers in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours. Feeling his warm breath on your lips. Donât keep me waiting.Â
Hold on, beautiful. Zayne slots himself in between your legs, letting them rest around his waist. He grips your left thigh, hooking it on his shoulder and turns his head slightly to give your plush calf a kiss. His cock catches your attention, fully hard and glistening with pre-cum. Like his physique, it was girthy and thicker; imposing and intimidating.Â
Will it fit inside of me after so longâŠ?Â
A bead of his excitement pearls on his tip, rolling down the impressive shaft. You smear it across his tip with your thumb, not missing how he shivered.
âIâll go slow, darling,â he mumbles, locking your fingers with his, drawing your hands above your head and keeping it there with one hand. âTell me if it hurts, alright?â
He kisses you fully on your parted mouth, drinking in your hitched gasp. I love you, my Aurora.Â
Giving his cock a few strokes, he lines it right to your drooling hole, dragging his tip through your folds to prime you up.Â
The thickness of him breaches past your tight opening, and you cry out, back arching. Zayne shushes you, focused on not splitting you open too fast.Â
Shit, youâre tight, he hisses. I may not be able to hold myself back, my Aurora.
You shake your head, glossy eyes making something in his chest twinge. Donâtâlet me feel you entirely, Zayne.Â
âAlmost,â he mumbles, and you feel the glorious stretch; how it burns in the best way.Â
The sounds falling from your mouth were much too lewd, easily heard past the thin walls; though at this rate, you didnât care who would complain.
He breathes hard, sweat bulleting down his forehead. Finally, with one push, heâs fully sheathed inside of you.
The both of you groan in relief, his forehead knocking softly into yours. He lets go of your hands, letting them wound around his broad shoulders.
You bury your face in his neck as he starts to move, tentatively rolling his hips to get you used to him again.Â
âTaking me so well even after so long,â he breathes hard. âYouâre always so perfect for me, arenât you, my Aurora?âÂ
Mhm, your slurry moan brushes his heated ears.Â
Falling apart. He was dissolving for you faster than snow under the sun.Â
âI can feel your pretty pussy fluttering around me.â He brushes his lips across your cheeks and nose, those gorgeous heavy lidded emerald eyes sending jolts down your spine. âYou really wanted this.â
You canât do anything but moan for him, pleasure unfurling across your body like a cresting tidal wave.Â
His hips clipping heavily into yours, the dense sensation of his cock filling you up over and over again, coarse pubic hair catching on your clitâall of it were slowly edging you towards the biggest release of your life.
He fucks you slower this time, wanting to draw out the moment.Â
Weeks of separation and anxiety were condensed within this singular moment; thick gasps flowing from his mouth into yours and back again, filling the air with an unbearable tension.
I love you, he repeats again, figuratively and literally drilling his devotion into your lax body. I love you so much, my Aurora.Â
My Aurora. Mine.Â
His.
Zayneâs possessiveness leaves you reeling, overwhelming your senses. He was right, as he always was; you belonged to him, body, heart and soul. Every beat of your heart, every trembling breathâit was all his.
Only he could fuck you this good; this deep. Only he could make you tremble from such an onslaught of emotion and sensation.Â
His thumb slips into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue; your lips hollowing around it, sucking on his digit like you would his cock.Â
Good girl, he rumbles, removing his thumb and replacing it with his index and middle finger. So good for meâyouâre my sweet little girl, arenât you?Â
Yours, you mewl, mouth and voice thick with his digits. All yours, Zayne.
The pressure buildsâreaching a fever pitch. All of it piles up; heady breaths, sloppy thrusts, his moans and groans slurred into your hair.Â
He moves his mouth to your throat; sharp sting of his teeth blends with his murmured praises. But, you canât focus on anything beyond his cock pumping inside of you, the mess heâs fucking out of you. It smells like sex in this room; musky and heady.Â
The couch is shaking, clawed feet dragging across the floor. Somewhere in your foggy mind, it registers that his downstairs elderly neighbor would surely be storming up to confront him. But, no distractions exist when youâre in the circle of his arms.Â
He probably wouldnât even hear her knock over your keening moans.
Something about Dr. Zayneâthe meticulous, righteous Dr. Zayneâignoring someoneâs distress because he was too busy fucking you, makes the taut string of your impending orgasm snap.Â
Good girl, he whispers; groans when he feels your nails stab into his shoulders. Doing so good for me. Generous hands grip your ass, lifting your back slightly off the sofa. Can you give me another one?Â
His selflessness would be the death of you. Zayne hadnât even cum onceâtoo focused on your needs.
Your head lolls back, feathery moans tainting the air with pure sin. Your thighs spread further, taking him deeper.
âZayneâŠâ
âMy Aurora?âÂ
He groans softly when you glide your tongue over the shell of his ear, breathily moaning, âCan you please cum for me?â
Strong shivers wrack his body; his sharp mind drawing a blank.
âPlease,â you mouth his pulse point, drawing your hands back to his hair to give his dark locks a tug. âGive it to me, please⊠wanna feel you all hot and pulsing inside of me.â
Fuck, he bites your shoulder, thrusts growing sloppier. Fuck, fuckâ
Heâs been holding back on you; not wanting to hurt you when you wanted it to hurt.Â
You wanted the heat, the overwhelming need. Whining, you whimper please, please, please, over and over again.Â
Give me your cum, Daddy.Â
That does it. Zayne grits his teeth, a lusty groan of pain and ecstasy brushing against your neck. His cum fills you up steadily, first in spurts, then a fulfilling warmth which coats your walls, drawing deeper into your body with every pulsing contraction; a mini release set off by his own.
He slumps over you, skin growing cooler to the touch. You glide your fingertips over his sharp shoulder blades, feeling frost coating your fingers. They melt instantly at your touch, leaving your skin damp with both sweat and the residue of his Evol.Â
Zayne shudders, rubbing his cheek against your jaw and neck like a sated beast.
You twitch your hips, and he pulls out slightly; the fullness of him unplugging and dribbling down to join the mess of both your releases onto the couch.Â
He stays deep inside of you, lips tangled with yours; the both of you unable to let the other go.
âAre you alright?â he asks into the afterglow. You squirm a little, feeling his softening cock twitch.Â
âMhm hmm,â you flash him a satisfied smile and he fights back a chuckle. You wiggle your butt, biting on your bottom lip. âI love how full I feel of you right now.â
Zayne squeezes your hips, an exasperated and exhausted smirk gracing his perfect mouth. âLittle minx.â
He holds your cheek, smoothes his thumb over your lower lip.
âYou do know how much you mean to me, donât you?â
His face is hazy, eyes soft and full of love in the faint light.Â
You rest your palm on the back of his hand, melting into his warmth with your eyes half closed and a small smile lifting the corners of your lips.
âPerhaps.âÂ
You donât give him time to recover from your quip, flipping him over, both of you still connected from base to tip.Â
Zayne doesnât think heâs ever seen such raw beauty held in one person before; how your skin glowed in the muted orange glow, pretty eyes filled with a passionate ruin.
âBut, if you let me take care of you this time, Dr. Zayne, I might be inclined to believe so.â
His hands span across your lower back, smoothing down your hips.
âAnything,â he mumbles hoarsely, an accessory to your seduction. âDo anything you want to me, my Aurora.â
You mumble his name, honeyed with devotion and lust.
And Zayne doesnât care how many times fate would push you two away; like the tide to the sea, he would always come back for you.Â
As many times as it would take. For as long as he could.
âI love you, Zayne,â you whisper, tinier palms pressed to his chest; taking your turn to fuck him.
And he knows you would do it again, too; go through it one more time for him. It was the nature of your loveâa push and pull as old as the sea tides.Â
But this timeâmost definitelyâhe makes a firm vow that it would be the very last time you were taken away from him.
â it is safe to say i am insane over this man i fear. reblogs and feedback are appreciated !!
Â©ïž all works belong to lalunaymph. do not copy, repost, translate or share across any other platform
#𩱠writes#zayne love and deepspace#zayne angst#zayne smut#zayne x reader#zayne x you#love and deepspace
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WINNER TAKES IT ALL â
CS55
PAIRING ⊠carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader
SUMMARY ⊠you and your boyfriend both seem to be very lucky recently: you in opening for taylor swift, and him in winning the australian grand prix [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ⊠cursing
REQUESTED ⊠here!
NOTES ⊠for the purpose of this fic, taylor has added an extra date in melbourne for the friday before the australian grand prix. as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
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yourusername and with that we have one show left: back to melbourne in a couple of weeks! thank you all so much for the support, love you all like crazy đ«¶
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user1 you're such a disney princess i can't
user2 DON'T MESS W ME RN IM SO SAD UR NO LONGER OPENING.
user3 FR what will we do without all of her content???
user4 âčïžâčïž
carlossainz55 so proud of you!!
yourusername im way prouder of you đ
user5 PARENTS WOOHOO
taylorswift i'll miss you, my angel! â€ïž
yourusername love you sm đąđđ
yourusername
( caption one: just woke up and my boyfriend's got appendicitis hellooo?? wtf have i missed while i've been in singapore. | caption two: never mind guys all is well â€ïž ( i am a photographer and i took THIS photo ) )
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yourusername impromptu visit to jeddah after SOMEONE'S appendix was removed...thanks for giving me an excuse to see you carlos đđđ
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user6 THE WAY HE STILL WENT TO SEE THE GP IS CRAZY ur boyfriend is hella strong
yourusername ur telling me đ€·ââïž
user6 OMG YOU REPLIED??? I LOVE YOU
user7 nah carlos acc has to be some sort of super human because how THE FUCK did he walk after that surgery.
user8 literally convinced he is atp.
carlossainz55 the appendix wasn't my fault...
charles_leclerc or was it đ€·ââïž
yourusername hmmm...
user9 i'm acc their biggest fan you don't understand
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yourusername from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you for all of the love and support i've received over the past couple of weeks. they've honestly been such a fever dream for me: like you're telling me that i was opening for THE taylor swift?? twelve year old me would be screaming right about now, let me tell you that much. i've loved every minute of this experience, and i can't wait to see what era is next for me đ«¶
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user13 i still remember watching you when you were eighteen, just releasing music on youtube đ„ș
user14 she's come sooo far since then im so proud of her
taylorswift loved having you with me!! couldn't think of anyone else better to keep me company during these times â€ïž
yourusername thank you sm tay, im going to miss youuu đđ
user15 why am i acc tearing up this is so sad
carlossainz55 now i have you all to myself â€ïž
yourusername yeah well you have ur cars AND charles so i guess it's not just me is it.
charles_leclerc why am i being mentioned
yourusername ur just like collateral damage in this argument
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 989,911 others
carlossainz55 back from my surgery and into P2 đ looking forward to the race!
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user16 SMOOTH OPERATOR IS BACKKK
user17 the surgery did NOT hold him back
user18 NO REAL THE GUY WAS FLYINGGG
user19 the extra weight is gone and now he's in first row THIS IS WHAT WE NEEDED
yourusername do you ever actually rest like. ur appendix was just taken out when i get colds i stay in bed longer.
carlossainz55 yeah i know from firsthand experience đ
user20 SHE'S SO REAL FOR THIS THOUGH
yourusername either way i'm so proud of you! smash it tomorrow đ
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user21 the way y/n is literally so supportive of him is my fav thing
user22 all whilst telling him off for not resting enough đ€Łđ€Ł she's too iconic for us, i fear
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yourusername me and kika are truly THOSE BITCHES đ
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user23 SPEAK ON ITTTT đŁïžđŁïžđŁïž
user24 my fav wags fr đ«¶
fransisca.cgomes my girlll đđ
yourusername foreverrr đ
fransisca.cgomes that second pic is soooo yum
yourusername leave pierre for me RIGHT NOW.
fransisca.cgomes gladlyyy! đ
pierregasly HUH??
yourusername got ur girl tripod how does it feel đ€Ł
carlossainz55 â€ïžâ€ïž
yourusername love youuu!!
liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 1,443,999 others
carlossainz55 P1 babyyy!! Onto Japan we go đąâ€ïž
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user28 THE SMOOTHEST OPERATOR AROUND
user29 staying up until 2am to watch it was SOOO WORTH IT
user30 SO PROUD!!
yourusername YESSS I KNOW THAT'S RIGHTTT!!
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yourusername MY FUCKING MANNN LET'S GOOO!! P1 BABY đđ
carlossainz55 â€ïž
user31 the way she supports him will never not warm my heart
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yourusername he only went and did it!! after his appendix got removed and all. couldn't be fucking prouder đ
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yourusername proud of @/charles_leclerc as well!! what a way to end the weekend đ
charles_leclerc thank you y/n!! đ
yourusername FORZA FERRARI đ
user31 the way they support each other >>>
user32 actual power couple idc
user33 i need to find myself a y/n asap.
user34 WHY ARE YOU SO PERFECT
carlossainz55 te amo siempre â€ïž
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carlossainz55 it was the lack of an appendix that did it đ€Ł
yourusername @/charles_leclerc are you taking notes??
charles_leclerc already scheduling an appointment for the winter, don't worry đ
ââââââââââââââââââââââ
#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 x female reader#f1 social media au#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#mclqren
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You Are Still Human
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Pairing: Wendigo!Josh Washington x Fem!Reader Description: Josh breaks down over the fact that he cannot live a normal life since his possession and no longer believes that he is truly human. So you find a special way to remind him of his humanity... Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mental Breakdown, Insecurities, P In V, Creampie, Slight Choking, Rough Smut Animalistic Smut, Mention Of Breeding, No Foreplay Or Prep, Pain Kink-ish??? (Let me know if I missed any!) Word Count: 3.2k A/N: So I finally got this done! I didn't expect it to end up this long but as you can see, things got out of hand FAST. đ I hope you guys enjoy it! đ€ Josh Washington Masterlist: đ€ Taglist: @nuggetsandmoose, @maquillagebookmark, @wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee28374728, @bee-who-isnt-french
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My tired feet slowly shuffle across the hardwood floor as I push myself through the front door of our shared home. I am exhausted after several errands that I had to run today, to say the least. But that's the price I have to pay for pushing them off until right at last minute. Though it wasn't exactly the extra work I had to do that pushed my mind and body to feel so worn out. My loving boyfriend decided to join me, which was a rare occurrence for him.
Ever since the... Incident... He hasn't wanted to go out into the world much. I understand his anxiety of being seen in public with his condition so I never push, but today he insisted on joining me on my mission to finish my to-do list. Perhaps he felt bad that all these burdens were placed on my shoulders with his lack of want to leave the house.
But unfortunately, a face mask to cover up his ripped cheek and sharpened canines was just not enough to cover what he has become. Recovery for Josh was long and hard and we had only just began talking about the possibility of cosmetic surgery. It was a long process before we could even begin worrying about such things.
After leaving the mountain, the spirit of the wendigo left him, not being able to leave where it is bound. But still, traces of an animal-like presence lingered in his behaviors and personality. We didn't know if restoring his humanity was possible, but the doctors were able to recover just enough to get him to a point of leaving the hospital to live a normal life. Though even then, I had to beg to convince them to let me take him home with me.
His parents were hesitant on letting me take care of him, but after some negotiating, they bought a secluded cabin in a swallow forest, just deep enough to give us privacy but not too deep that I would be trapped if I needed to get away. Josh's humanity was indeed resorted, but the primal animal was still within.
And that's where we are now. Josh has an odd habit of forgetting how to act "human" sometimes. Every once in awhile he will stare at someone random and growl lowly, or even nip at the air as though his need to feed was getting too intense. It was worrisome, to say the least. Sometimes I would stay up at night, fearing the one thing that I always worried was inevitableâthat Josh would lose control once more.
Though time and time again, he would prove me wrong with a loving and warm cuddle at the end of the day. But sadly, tonight will not be so sweet. I can tell by the way Josh trudges into the living room, his head hung low and shoulders slumped. He wants to be left alone.
Though I understand this, I don't want to leave him with his thoughts again. Bad things happen when Josh is left alone with his thoughts. So I approach the doorway of the living room, leaning against the frame as I watch his tired form from afar. He seems defeated by the way he sat slouched against the soft cushions of our couch.
Slowly, I make my way to him step by step and sit on the couch, my eyes watching him to read his body language. He does not react to my presence, instead staring out into a void of nothingness like his mind is elsewhere. I reach over to the small end table by my side and pull its drawer open, only to retrieve a small, red bag.
I set it on my lap and then turn back to Josh, carefully taking on of his large hands in my own. They have grown a tiny bit since his possession, by an inch for each finger at least. Every part of his body has grown a bit since then. Sometimes it could feel a little intimidating. I run my thumb over the fragile, pale skin on the back of his hand before releasing a tired sigh.
"Your nails are getting long again, sweetheart. Shall I trim them for you?" I ask while reaching for the bag in my lap with my free hand, pulling the zipper to the side to reveal a bunch of nail care tools.
He does not respond verbally, but let's out a huff to let me know that he is fine with it. So with that, I begin my work, trimming and filing away at the sharp and jagged claws. It takes what feels like an hour to get them finished and looking nearly human again. In this time, Josh doesn't move a bit. He is so still, it's hard to tell he is even breathing. But once I finish and go to move my hands away from his, his boney fingers clasp my own.
"Thank... You..." He whispers faintly, his voice coarse and almost ghostly. Life glimmers in his eyes for a brief moment as his light irises study his hands.
But then, after a minute of admiring my work, he stands from his spot on the couch. He begins to pace around the coffee table in the center of the room, as if his mind is wandering, pondering something intense. I watch him for a few moments as he silently walks, feet shuffling along the carpet. But then, he mutters something...
"It's not enough..."
I almost do not catch it, until he repeats the words in a volume just slightly higher than before. But before I know it, Josh is pacing more frantically, whispering the sentence over and over. An eerie dread falls over my body as I watch him, his movements growing more panicked. He seems frightened and enraged, and those feelings seem to grow until he finally snaps, flipping over the coffee table in one swoop of his arms.
"I'm sick of this fucking shit!" He screams in a voice that sounds more like a howl from a wounded animal than anything else. "I'm so sick of being a fucking monster! I'm so fucking sick of people looking at me like oneâlike I shouldn't be with you or like I'm going to hurt you! I just want to be human again!"
I am stunned, sitting still as ever as if I'm afraid to move. That is until he breaks down, falling to his knees as he let's out a mournful sob. It's as if his spirit has been beaten down to the point of no return by this curse, every day stares, and the pressure of trying to be what he once was. Within a second, I am by his side on the floor, pulling him close to me and embracing him tightly.
"You're not a monster." I whisper sweetly as I caress his thinned out hair, just one more thing he has had to be insecure about since becoming human again. But it never lost its silky texture, which was what I had always loved the most about it.
He shakes his head and whimpers faintly, "I'm just a monster..."
I think for a moment. Usually it's pretty hard to break someone out of this mindset, especially Josh. He has a stubborn way of thinking, which makes it hard to convince him otherwise on a lot of subjects. I continue to pet his hair and think of back when he was human, how much he loved to show me just how much he loved me every day. Of course, a lot of times it would be through physical actsâ And finally, it hits me. I know what will break him out of these self-abusive thoughts.
"I want you to prove to me that you're not a monster." I order firmly, which is enough for him to finally raise his head from where it is tucked in my shoulder and look up at me.
"W-What?" He queries just barely above a whisperâjust barely enough for me to hear his quivering voice.
I gently caress his cheek, brushing my fingers over his deep scars as I clarify. "Prove to me that you aren't a monster. I know you can. Prove to me that you can feel all the emotions that a normal person can feel, and make me feel them as well in return."
He stares at me for a moment, eyes clearly uncertain about my rather intimate proposition. I can practically see the internal battle going on inside his mind through those glazed over pupils in the center of his white irises. Then, he let's out a shaky breath before biting his lip subtlyâa risky habit he still carries from being human, but has to be more cautious doing now with his sharpened teeth.
"I... I don't want to hurt you..." He whimpers like a hurt puppy, glancing back down at his fidgeting fingers.
"You won't," I say as I place my hands on his cheeks, forcing his gaze back to me so he can see my sincerity. "I know you..."
He adverts his eyes once more, only this time looking down at the growing bulge under the rough fabric of his jeansâsomething I had failed to notice before. Josh had grown so backwards since his turningâso backwards that we haven't had sex since prior to it. I know it is killing him, especially since he was always the horniest guy I knew before this happened.
To make things easier for him, I place my hand on his thigh, resting right beside his needy member. He swallows thickly as he visibly shivers, a thin layer of sweat already coating his skin as his temperature rises. It is a subtle action to test the waters and when I'm sure he is comfortable, my hand goes right to the spot I know he desires so much.
But as soon as my hand cups the twitching length through his pants, something changes. A soft growl is heard rumbling at the back of his throat, and when my eyes flick back up, I am met with a hungry and what looks to be primal gaze. His eyes are no longer soft and sorrowful, but hold something almost animalistic within them.
Before I can say anything, Josh scoops me up and throws me down on the couch, knocking a startled gasp to fly out from me that seems to fall on deaf ears. He is quick to cage me between his arms, and lower his body weight down over top of me to encase me in his grasp, like a predator sealing his prey's fate.
No words are spoken, just the sounds of his ragged breaths and rabid growls fill the air. His body temperature has risen even higher than I have ever felt from him, and as he presses his chest against mine to keep me locked in place, I can feel his racing heartbeat vibrating through his chest as well. It amazes me that he hasn't had a heart attack yet.
But still, it seems as if something is stopping him in place. A lost, uncertain, question glimmers in his orbs as though he is waiting for an answer. Though he is silent, I know what he is askingâthe final thing he needs to take things to the next level.
"Go ahead, Josh. I'm ready." I breath faintly, giving him the permission he seeks.
As if from a movie, he tears our clothes off at a supernatural speed. I lay there, naked and dumbfounded as I look at the shreds of clothing that fell all around us, surrounding us like some sort of makeshift nest. I can't help but wonder how in the hell he managed to do that after I just clipped and filed his claws down, but I don't have much time to answer.
A shriek of shock, pain, and pleasure tears from my throat as I feel the familiar sting of something long and hard entering my canal, though this time in a more rough and fast way. Josh was always one for foreplay, but I guess there isn't time for that now, as he is already buried deep within me to the brim within just a split second.
His eyes hold a bit of remorse for only a mere moment, until that hunger returns. I barely have time to breathe as he retracts and enters at a pace I have never seen from him before. His hips pound furiously into mine, a subtle ache setting into my joints almost in an instant as he does his work. His grip on my waist is enough to burst my organs, while his dull nails cut into my flesh, crimson liquid forming under them more and more with each flex of his fingers. If I hadn't have cut his nails before this, I'd be done for. But I feel like Josh would know to be more careful if there was an actual hazard.
The intensity of his tip hitting my g-spot over and over at a brutal force feels to be enough to actually bruise it. Josh was always so good at finding it but this is a whole new level. I push my head back against the cushions as a cry of painful ecstasy parts my lips. Gripping the edges of the cushions and ripped strands of clothing in my fists, I begin to squirm out of pure instinct. Of course, Josh doesn't like this very much. Before I know it, a tight hand is wrapped firmly around my neck, but not enough to actually hurt me. This shows me that deep down, Josh still has some control.
He pounds into me in a sloppy and rough rhythm, determined like an animal desperate to breed. Grunts, groans, and growls that sound less than human are all that are heard from him. I would be concerned if my mind was clear enough to pay attention. No, right now, all my senses were overwhelmed by Josh, cutting off my awareness of the world around us like a sweet death. I am out of my own body now, my soul flying high in the clouds of heaven.
To my surprise, he pulls out. A soft exhale escapes me has he let's go of my throat, but that's only to quickly flip me over so he can now get in from the back. As soon as he shoves his length back inside, he's moving at a pace yet again unimaginable while his claws grip my hips firmly. He is almost pulling me back onto his cock at times, so my hips can meet his own has he thrusts into me. It's so animalistic and natural and it feels so right. And by the feeling of it, it's just enough to satisfy Josh completely.
With a roaring howl, Josh finally finds the release he has been chasing for so long. His speed and strength increases as he comes undone within me, and he fills me to the brim as if he wants to claim me... Or maybe even breed me. It is all too much for me to bear. The sensation of his heavy load spraying into my sweet spot is enough to send me flying over the edge. I bury my face into the cushion as a shuddering moan falls from my lips, before my voice strains away to nothing. My whole body trembles as I practically melt beneath him, and my walls squeeze and quiver around his cock as though I'm practically begging for more.
Though soon that psychical need gives away into exhaustion as soon as my tense muscles relax once my high subsides, my body falling limp like I no longer can control it. I'm just a doll now, all at the mercy of the man who gives me life. He may think that because I help him to heal, I am his savior. But he couldn't be more wrong. Without Joshua, I would be in a darker place, drowning in my trauma of that night. But now, I have him. And in this moment of silence where nothingness hangs in the air, that thought enters my brain. A small smile curls the corners of my lips while I close my eyes, feeling peace as I soak up his warmth while his hot breath fans my shoulder.
He removes himself from me, both of us letting out a trembling whimper, the overestimation stinging our most sensitive areas momentarily. He does not waste a single breath on words, instead leaning down to capture my lips with his. He is carefulâcareful to not cut me with his long canines, but also holding a tenderness he used to show before all of this. He knows that I am at my most vulnerable at this time, and will take the most caution to not break me at my fine glass-like state. When he pulls away, he gazes upon me with tear-filled and passionate eyes, his orbs reflecting what seems to be gratefulness and love.
"That wasn't the wendigo in me..." He breathes faintly while raising a hand to caress my cheek in a way so tender that I feel as if I could cry. Though I raise a questioning brow at that statement, not knowing what he means. So he elaborates after taking another second to breathe, still worn out by our recent activities. "I just needed you that badly... So I guess that was the human in me, huh?"
I smile at that and nod, admiring how he blushes at what he admits. For someone who used to be so ballsy and open with his dirty thoughts, Josh could be pretty backwards at times. It was something I always adored so much about him. I run my fingers through his raven, disheveled hair while taking in his stunning features, a soft sigh leaving me before I whisper. "You can have me whenever you like, Josh."
Josh smiles and presses his lips to mine once more, and then lays his head on my chest. I watch him intently, taking note of how he smiles when he hears my heartbeat quicken ever so slightly at the sight of him on top of me. He gently rubs my sides, soon stopping to snuggle into my breasts, seemingly deciding that this nest of our torn clothing would be our bed for the night.
Josh always reminded me of a Great Dane in a way. Despite being a lot bigger than me, there was always enough space on top of me for cuddles in his eyes. It was always quite amusing to me each time his large form would envelope my own. I continue to pet his hair, soft strands threading through my fingers with each touch. He let's out a huff in contentment and kisses my left breast, the sensation of his lips on my skin being absorbed through my flesh and meeting my heart to caress it with the love he feels for me.
"Thank you..." He murmurs, his voice dropping an octave lower and coming out more like a purr due to his exhaustion. My eyes focus on him as he closes his eyes, taking one more deep breath and then continuing his sentence a mere second before he falls into a peaceful slumber on top of me. "For everything..."
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#until dawn#until dawn josh#josh washington#josh washington x reader#josh washington smut#wendigo!josh washington#synnamonsspicyfics
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in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) âȘ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru âïœĄ ïŸâŸ ïŸïœĄâ
â previous | ËËË âĄ ËËË | next â
summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.
tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.
notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune
"You look like shit."
You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.
"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"
You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."
You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."
"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."
"Shoko!"
But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"
"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."
As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.
"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."
"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.
"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."
He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.
When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.
"Hey, is everything okay? I-"
Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"
Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"
The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.
Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.
Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.
Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?
"You will not certainly die,â the serpent said to the woman. âFor God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.
He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.
Suguru,
My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?
I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.
I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.
Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.
Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.
Another.
I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.
Another.
I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.
More. More. More.
I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?
He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.
I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.
I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.
I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.
I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.
It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.
It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.
Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.
"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"
"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."
Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?
"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"
The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"
Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"
Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"
Stunned, you can only nod.
"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.
"Where was the dress?"
From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?
"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.
What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?
White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.
So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.
Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-
Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.
"I missed you."
Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."
"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.
"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."
#haerinwrites#idol!satoru gojo#rockstar!suguru geto#satoru gojo x reader#satosugu x reader#jjk angst#jjk x reader#suguru geto x reader#satoru x suguru x reader#satoru x reader#suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo
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can you please do a surgeon reader with pathetic rich yandere? please and thank you for making so many good fics!
Thanks for the support!
Ooooh a needy, clingy, Yandere patient.... I like your thinking anon.
Tw. For self harm mention
Yandere patient grew up as a rich, spoiled kid with plenty of daddy's money and not enough spine. He's never had someone care about him if it wasn't for his money, even his parents don't really seem to love him beyond the basic obligations of making sure he wasn't dead or feral. His friends are all assholes who are also rich, university students that only seem to like him when he's drinking past the point of passing out, or when he buys them fancy dinners and meals as gifts. He knows that they are just leeches, but he doesn't have anyone else.
Yandere patient who gets pressured into doing a stupid stunt. He was drunk at the time, so he doesn't really remember much about what exactly he did, but he knew what happened afterwards: Broken legs, a spinal injury, a shattered wrist, and 15 stitches on his cherub like face.
You're assigned to be his surgeon, as it turns out. You tell him that since his injuries are so severe, he'll need to have multiple surgeries and come in frequently to ensure he's healed.
He understands, though a bit weary and exhausted.
Through the period of time that's he's kept in the hospital, you notice how no one ever comes to visit him. Yandere patient becomes withdrawn and almost a bit despondent, and you knew you needed to do something. He wont recover if his mentality isn't there, after all.
You spend a lot of time comforting him, spending time with him later in the evenings before you go home, and you chat with him for brief periods of the day.
Yandere patient feels the most affection he's ever received while bedridden in your care. He knows that for once, it's not just about money. Yes, this is your job, but he knows for a fact that you pay more attention to him than you would some of your other charges.
Yandere patient decides to move himself into the hospital until he recovers. There's not real point in being locked away in his gloomy yet opulent room, tucked away in some countryside manor. No, he'd rather be here with you so that he may relish in your constant doting. You are a bit hesitant when he tells you the news with such a bright, beaming face. You don't want to hurt the poor man's feelings since he's been through so much already, but you'd rather prefer to see him getting out a bit more and trying his hand at socializing. Still, you don't press him too much on the issue.
Yandere patient who realizes that whenever he makes a bit too much progress, you distance yourself ever so slightly. It gives him pause, and it makes his heart race in a not good way. He can't have you leaving him. Not when he's already begun to rely on you so much.
Yandere patient who messes up his stitches constantly. He looks up at you with big, watery eyes when you find him covered in his own blood. He feigns his clumsiness, but he can't help the pleasurable shudder that runs up his damaged spine whenever you fret over him.
Yandere patient who starts to try to make you move into one of the many family manors he resides in. He'll pay you an extraordinary amount if you'll let him be your only patient. Plus, it's in the countryside! Fresh air, beautiful gardens, privacy: What more could you want?!
He tries so hard to sell you on it, but you don't budge. He pouts like a child for a while afterwards, though soon he's back to his usually smiling self.
He's figured it out. He doesn't have to ask you! A simple multi million dollar bribe to the hospital here, a scheme to blacklist you there, and soon you'll be happy to only have eyes for him!
Yandere Patient is practically beaming when you show up to his estate, bags in hand. The money, the pain, the isolation... all of it was just a small price to pay for you to never leave his side again.
#yandere x reader#my writing#yandere#tw yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#x reader#answered asks#fanfic writing#yandere boy#yandere patient#rich yandere
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly
Previous - FINAL PART - Bonus
"Let me see"
You mentioned while laughing, sitting in front of the man who looked at you affectionately as you touched his face and observed him attentively.
"Your eye looks a bit red... Have you been using the drops the doctor recommended?"
Curly: "Maybe... I forgot them... today"
His voice was still somewhat strange to hear, it had the essence of what his voice once was, but much rougher and it was difficult for him to say long sentences, he had to pause between words to be able to say them.
You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, seeing the scars on his face.
At first, it wasn't the same skin you knew; you were surprised at how his body returned to that familiar skin, changing its texture, gradually becoming the skin you love to touch.
You noticed the ring hanging from his neck, with the lack of hands, he wore his ring that way to keep it close.
He had to convince you to give him back his ring, but at that moment you were in crisis because you had told him that the day you took it off, you would leave him. Although you reached an agreement to annul that promise.
Five years had already passed since you returned to Earth, and too many things had happened.
On your side, you started following your dream when you were little, and today you have your own bakery.
But it was hard work getting here, because the first thing you worried about was your husband's well-being, who spent half a year resting in the hospital, and then you had to take care of him with attention at home.
Pony Express decided to give you a percentage of your salary and a bonus for the damages they suffered, so with that money, they performed the man's first surgeries.
A skin graft, hair, and facial reconstruction, among others, over the next two years.
He used prosthetics that helped him walk and pick things up on his own, although just in case, you still had his wheelchair as a backup, which he refuses to use again, and when you're not watching, he tries to get rid of it, but you've locked the room where it is.
You even adopted two dogs, the first was Jupiter, a Labrador, a service dog who helps Curly when you're not around, and he's also a very good companion.
And after insisting for so long that Jupiter needed a little sibbling, you adopted Sunset, a dog you had found outside your bakery begging for food, a golden retriever who had escaped from her home, where it seemed they only used her to have puppies and sell them because she was purebred.
Both animals got along well right away, both quite calm, they don't cause any problems.
On the other hand, you stayed in touch with the rest of the crew.
Anya was able to get into medical school a few months after returning, and she is currently in her final year to receive her diploma.
Swansea retired and stayed at home with his family and children, being welcomed by his wife and the little girl she had had a few months ago.
Daisuke tried again with the art school, giving his all and with the support of his parents, he was able to get in. He even has a blog where he talks about the experiences he had in his life to motivate other young people to follow what they love.
Jimmy on the other hand... The last thing you heard about him was that his sentence was extended further for causing conflicts during his time in prison.
As for the little baby... you found out she was adopted by a good family, and that was all you needed to know about her.
Curly: "They're already... about to arrive"
He alerted when he heard Sunset start barking upon hearing a car park nearby.
He got out of bed and went outside to open the door and let his friends into the yard.
There was something that became a tradition among you, every year you celebrated the anniversary of the day you returned alive to Earth after such an experience, having a meal at your home.
Daisuke: "Who is the cutest girl! Let me pet you, fluffball!"
The boy, every time he went, was determined to make Sunset his friend, but she always ended up hiding where he couldn't reach her.
Anya: "Today is a wonderful day... And the food smells really good, every year they surpass the previous year's food, it's incredible."
Swansea: "Not bad, huh! Did you make this grill by yourself, Curly? The meat looks incredible."
Daisuke: "Where is (Yn)?? I want to greet her!"
He had managed to catch the dog, who was resigned in his arms while Jupiter was barking at Daisuke, knowing how upset Sunset was.
Curly: "She has... a surprise for... all of you."
He said, smiling, waiting for you to come out in the summer dress he had bought for you, quite loose and comfortable, perfect for your growing belly.Â
Everyone was surprised to see you, Daisuke was left speechless, dropping Sunset.
Daisuke: "But! You said-!"
"Well, not naturallyâbut... I was given the opportunity to do it in vitro and it was a success! I was afraid it wouldn't work because of my eggs, but... after several failed attempts... we finally got very lucky."
You caressed your belly, smiling.
Swansea: "Look at that... Congratulations, kid!"
Anya: "That's wonderful! Oh my God, how many weeks are you now? Do you already know their gender? Why didn't you tell us anything?"
She approached to touch your belly, happy that you have achieved what you wanted so much.
"I'm already in my 29th week... And we already know it's a boy! We were deciding on a name!"
Daisuke: "I have a really cool one!"
"I'm not going to call him Daisuke."
The boy let out a disappointed "aaaw" that you weren't going to consider his name for your son.
Curly: "We thought... of Charles"
"That I'm still not at all in agreement with that name."
You pointed at him, making him laugh and roll his eye.
Anya: "You still have time! When is your due date? I would like to be with you when it happens."
Daisuke: "Can I be there too? Maybe the second time I won't faint, hehe."
Swansea: "I wish you the best, boys are not difficult to entertain, they are difficult to keep alive, they love danger even after reaching adulthood."
You felt very excited about all the support you were receiving, happy to have met such wonderful people.
You didn't regret at all for having done everything possible to get them out of that situation.
The gathering continued with everyone eating and talking about the things they had been doing lately, catching up on their activities, until dessert time arrived, everyone's favorite moment.
Curly: "The best sweets... are from my wife..."
Swansea: "You don't even like sweets!"
Curly couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw everyone enthusiastically eating the ice cream cake you had made for that hot day, while he had his own special portion that you prepared for him so he could eat without too much sweetness.
You couldn't resist feeding him, and even though he wanted to seem annoyed, he adored the attention you gave him.
"Oops~ I'm sorry~ I stained your cheek"
You said with a smile to kiss his cheek, you started smearing hkd face with the dessert and left kisses on all those spots.
Swansea: "Get a room!"
Daisuke: "...Did you ever do it on the ship while working?"
"DAISUKE!"
You shouted with your cheeks red at such a true thing that had been said.
Curly: "...Two or three times..."
Swansea: "That's nothing, you managed to control themselves quite well."
Curly: "....During the week"
"Can I send it back into space?"
You didn't know how to hide your face in response to his declaration, you were extremely embarrassed.
But you had no escape, from the day you said yes, that man was going to stay with you until the end of his days.
And you knew well that he is going to be an incredible father soon as well.
In the end, everyone was able to have their well-deserved fate.
#mouthwash#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#captain curly#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly#do it for them mouthwashing
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escort at the oscars | a.b
austin butler x fem!actress!reader
summary: getting lost at the oscarâs wasnât on your roster. neither was getting austin butlers attention.
warnings: definitely poor representation of the oscars but idc this is just for funsies !
w/c: 3.1k
a/n: omg hi everyone !!! long time no see i know, life has been insane. i know no one will read this but ive had some HUGE life changes. i graduated cosmetology school, officially a nail tech now, yay me !! also, unfortunately, ill be having a hand surgery soon. so, im hoping i can write more before i canât đ. thank you to everyone who still supports me even though im not ac active as i used to be. one day i promise ill update regularly !!
a/n2: also, austin in the new bikeriders movie had me in a chokehold. the austin butler renaissance is upon us, people !!! (heâs also my bday twin WOO) and i know austin didnât win an oscar for elvis but for the sake of the fic he did in this !!
not proofread
requests open
Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â” â”
since the red carpets were only carpets, you could have sworn they were easy to manage. the theater was only accessible by walking through a line, but that wasn't the case. after only thirty minutes, you had to make a big mistake by trying to use the restroom and ending up opening a broom closet.
âhey,â you heard a voice, and you quickly turned around only to find yourself facing austin. âthe ceremony isnât in the closet, darling.â
âright..â you whisper under your breath and close the door. you smile awkwardly turning on your heels and holding your clutch tightly.
âi was just uh..looking for the restroom but i couldnât find itâ you laugh, looking down and shaking your head, and begin walking away from the boom closet.
austin couldnât help but chuckle, following behind you while holding his hand behind his back as he walked slowly for you to match his stride.
he could tell that you were an up-and-coming actress, something about the way you carried yourself gave it away, and he could also tell that this was your first time on a red carpet by the way you were clutching your clutch bag so firmly like your life depended on it.
âyou look nervous,â he said softly, âitâs your first time on a red carpet, isnât it?â
you smile sheepishly. âthat obvious, huh?â you trail behind austin assuming he is taking you to the restrooms.
ânever knew how big these places areâ you laugh, holding up the end of your dress so it doesnât drag.
austin could see how nervous you were by the way you were holding your dress up while you were walking, and he thought that it was adorable, honestly.
he chuckled as you mentioned how big the venue is because you werenât wrong, it is pretty damn big. âive been to a few oscars now and i still think the venue is too big,â he said with a laugh, as he walked by your side with that perfect movie star strut.
âwhich movie are you nominated for?â
you had never been to something like this, and you didnât even have a premiere for your movie. but somehow, critics loved the movie and now your movie was nominated.
it felt like it happened overnight.
âblue moonâ you answer, not expecting him to know it.
the movie was set in the second world war and your character was the spouse of one of the soldiers. after he died, your character joined the war.
it was an underground film, your first lead and you didnât expect anyone to pick up the movie. but someone did, ended up being shown at a film festival and the critics fell in love with your performance. and thatâs how you landed a nomination for best lead actress.
austinâs eyes widened as you mentioned the movie youâre up for, blue moon; he enjoyed that movie, and as he thought about it more he really couldnât deny that you were fantastic in it.
âno way,â he said in disbelief, âno wonder youâre nominated for best actress, you were incredible in that film.â
âthank youâ you nod, noticing you have finally made it to the restrooms.
âand thank you for showing me the wayâ you chuckle, dropping the train of your dress then stuffing your clutch under your arm and sticking out your hand.
austin takes your hand with a gentle yet firm grip and smiles, nodding. âno problem, glad i could be of help.â
âiâm y/n l/nâ you introduced. âit was nice to meet you, austin. thanks for thisâ you grin, retracting your hand.
âi guess ill catch you later..â
âit was a pleasure to meet you, y/n,â he replied with a smile before watching you walk into the restroom, and he couldnât help but keep his eyes on the door as you disappeared behind it.
he thought you were pretty. very pretty, and he kind of regretted not asking you for your phone number before you disappeared.
so, austin stood there leaning against the wall deciding he would wait on you. just in case you got lost again.
no other reason.
after relieving yourself, you stand in front of the mirror taking in a couple of deep breaths to calm the pounding in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
you open your clutch, picking out a compact and a lipstick. you swipe the color on your lips to touch up the splotches, and quickly powder your face.
you put everything back in your clutch smoothed out your hair and admired your dress.
floor-length satin gown in your favorite color, a ribbed corset look.
âyou can do this, y/n/n..â you whisper to yourself then pick up the train of your dress and exit the restroom, hoping you wonât miss the award ceremony.
austin was now pacing in front of the restroom, waiting for you to exit, his eyes fixated on the door, and he found himself running a hand through his styled hair, ruining the gelled look.
he wasnât sure what had compelled him to wait for you, but here he was, still waiting outside the restroom, tapping his foot anxiously and checking his watch now and then.
austin leaned back against the wall as he waited, trying to look nonchalant as ever, and once the restroom door opened, a soft exhale left his lips.
you let the door shut behind you while smoothing out the front of your dress and began walking down the hallway until you stopped seeing a figure.
you look up from the floor and spot austin, assuming he is waiting for you.
âaustin?â you ask softly, taking in a deep breath.
austinâs eyes softened at the sound of his name, and he couldnât take his eyes off of you once he saw you walking towards him, smoothing out the front of your dress and making sure it was wrinkle-free and free of any stains.
âhey,â he replied with a smile and nod, âi was just, uh, making sure you didnât get lost, again.â austin laughed, looking at you through his eyebrows.
you couldnât help but chuckle, âno worries, restrooms are pretty simple,â you reply with a toothy grin.
âbut, if you wouldnât mind showing me the way to the theater?â you ask, knowing if you didnât have the guidance youâd definitely get lost and miss the entire ceremony.
and you didnât need that kind of embarrassment.
though, deep down you know you wouldnât win tonight, but still, you wanted to experience being at the freaking oscars!
austin smiled at how eager you were to not get lost again. he chuckled softly as you asked him to guide you to the theater, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking one last look at his watch before walking closer to you.
âand here i was, thinking youâd never ask,â he joked, before holding out his arm for you to grab and wrap your own around.
âdonât wanna risk you ending up in the broom closet again,â he teased.
you drop your head, smiling, and then laugh at his comment about getting lost in the broom closet.
âlisten..â you say softly, covering your face with the clutch. âi would say it was one mistake, but with my luck, itâs bound to happen again.â
you carefully take his arm and begin walking towards the theater. you can feel your cheeks warming up.
here you are, lost at the oscarâs and now having the austin butler escort you into the theater.
when you attempted to cover your face with your clutch, he rolled his eyes and gently grabbed it, pulling it away from your face. âno hiding.â he teased.
as you walked side by side, down the halls and towards the theater, austin couldnât help himself but glance over at you now and then.
he smiled when you laughed at his joke and chuckled even more as you attempted to defend yourself. âjust one? youâre sure about that?â
you smile, looking ahead. not being able to look him in the eyes. âno..â you laugh.
âon my first day of filming, i got lost and accidentally locked myself in the hair and makeup trailerâ you giggle, recalling one of the most embarrassing moments thatâs happened to you. though, this one trumps that.
âno way..â you hear austin laugh wholeheartedly, a sound so beautiful it could turn your legs into jelly.
âyes wayâ you laugh back, nodding. you werenât paying attention and almost tripped over the end of your dress.
âhere, let me help you with thatâ austin offers, picking up the train of your dress so you can walk more comfortably.
âsee? clumsy.â
austin grins, holding the satin fabric in his hands as you continue towards the theater. âwe all have our quirksâ he adds. âyouâll warm up to this life, itâll become easier and if it doesnât, iâll help you navigate this journey.â austin spoke without really thinking.
you finally see the two large golden doors which lead into the theater. âready?â austin grins, raising his eyebrows before opening the door.
when the door opens youâre hit with a soft wind of cool air, the sound of people chattering, and the camera crew getting ready to go live.
âwell, letâs hope i can find my seat with ease..â you say walking down the aisle with him towards the seconds for the nominees. âiâll help,â austin says and begins scanning the row of seats for your name.
y/n l/n
âhere you are.â he points to your name plastered on the back of the seat. âright next to mineâ he leads you to the two end aisle seats on the front row. your crew sat behind you and austinâs was right next to him.
you were shocked, walking to your seat and letting go of his arm. austin drops the end of your dress gracefully, making sure it doesnât get dirty.
âwhat a coincidence, huh?â you take your seat, crossing your legs and placing your clutch in your lap.
austin had what youâd call a shit-eating grin on his face as he sat next to you. âcoincidence? or the universe giving us a sign?â
he could tell you were feeling out of place, but he silently tried to make you feel more comfortable by flashing you a reassuring smile.
you shrug, smiling as the staff prepares to go on air. you take in a deep breath, calming your racing heart as you watch the host enter the stage.
âgood luck tonight.â austin leans in, whispering. you turn to face him, âyou tooâ. austin winks and then focuses his attention on the stage as the lights dim.
you follow suit, the ceremony officially begins.
a short video montage of all the movies nominated begins to play, and for a second you see yourself.
wow.
after the video, the lights come back on, and out steps the host.
âhello, and welcome to the ninety-sixth oscars, everyone! look at these beautiful faces!â
the room explodes into applause and cheers from the guests.
thereâs more to the introduction, bad jokes, awkward laughter, and overall a very, very, long introduction before getting into the awards.
tonight was going to be very long.
âand the nominees for the best lead actorâ the host announces, letting a brief video play of all the nominees and their movies.
some actors you knew well, others you didnât.
âand the oscar goes to..â the host drawls, opening the envelope and a smile appears on her face.
âaustin butler!â
the crowd erupts into a roar of cheers and applause, people standing up all around, yourself included. austin stands up hugging his team around him and his friends. he turns to you, smiling as if he won the lottery. âcongrats!â you pat his shoulder as he walks past you on stage to accept the award.
âwow..â his deep voice rang through the microphone, looking at the audience and fellow nominees. âiâd uh..wow..all my words are leaving meâŠiâm standing in front of my heroes. iâm so incredibly grateful to be standing here, i just wanted to say thank you to my team, all the producers, writers, directors, costume, and makeup. everyone. and the presley family for guiding me through this whole process. thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. and lastly, thank you to all the new people iâve metâ he looks towards you. âiâm so grateful to be standing here. thank you.â he blows a kiss to the crowd before disappearing backstage.
the rest of the male categories went on in between intermissions. many of your favorite actors won, and movies.
then, before you knew it, the female categories were beginning. you saw austin returning to his seat before the nominees were announced.
ânow, letâs take a look at the nominees for best female lead roleâŠâ the host begins.
like the male category, there are videos of each nominee and then youâre face pops up in a small montage of your movie with your name announced.
austin looked over at you when your face appeared on the big screen, he saw that look in your eyes. he couldnât describe it. awe? no, it was something more than that. something he had never seen from any of the people he worked with. he had been to many events like this, but youâŠsomething about you.
âand the oscar for best female lead role goes too..â
anticipation.
so many great and talented women in this category, that you feel honored to even be considered as good as them.
what if you didnât win?
but what if you did win? you didnât even think you prepare an acceptance speech because there is absolutely no way someone like you could-
ây/n l/n! congratulations!â
the world stopped, people around you standing up and applauding. you.
you sat there, mouth agape staring at the stage with your face on the screens like an idiot. your crew grabbing your shoulders to congratulate you as you stand up. hugging some of your crew, then looking at austin wide-eyed. heâs smiling at you, saying something like âi knew youâd winâ but you couldnât be sure, you were in shock.
you begin towards the stage, austin trailing behind you holding your dress so you wonât trip. if thereâs one thing austin learned about you tonight, you were clumsy.
you look back, thanking austin with your eyes approach the host, and accept the award.
âoh man..â you begin, feeling tears prickling your eyes. a quiet laugh escapes your throat, looking down at the golden award and then back to the crowd. âi didnât have a speech prepared, i didnât expect to win at all. but i wanted to thank everyone who worked on the set of this movie. thank you to the director who saw my indie films and thought i had the talent to portray my character. thank you to my team who always supported me. thank you to my family who always believed in me..who pushed me to work harder..â you sniffle, lip quivering.
âthank you. thank you so much.â you cry. âand thank you to austin, who helped me when i got lost, otherwise i wouldâve missed the best moment in my lifeâ. you look towards austin, your teary eyes glittering underneath the lights. the crowd laughs at this, finding it humorous.
austin smiled as he listened to your heartfelt acceptance speech. he couldnât help but feel proud of you, watching the way you held the award in your hands and thanked everyone who had helped you along the way.
his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned him in your speech. he chuckled softly as the crowd laughed when you joked about getting lost, and he felt a warmth spread through him as he heard you express your gratitude towards him.
âand to all my fellow nominees, i canât believe im standing in front of you. iâm so honored to be here with you tonight. and i realize i am rambling so i will accept this and goâ you laugh, waving to your crew and exiting the stage.
as you walked off the stage, austin stood up and applauded once again, clapping louder than ever before.
the rest of the night continued without fail, the whole thing continued for about three and a half hours. you knew it was going to be long, but you donât think youâd ever get used to it.
the ceremony ended, leading you and the other winners backstage to get pictures and interviews.
you stand with your friends, who also are a part of your crew. youâre still absolutely shocked. crying on and off as they congratulate you on one of the biggest achievements of your career.
you werenât aware of austin approaching you until you felt a hand on your lower back. you look over your shoulder and see his baby blues. âaustin!â you grin, turning your body toward him. âhi, darling. congratulations.â he says, gesturing to the award in your hand.
âthank youâ you bring the award up to your face, grinning like a proud parent. âand congrats to youâ
austin nods, looking down at his award. âlooks like we both got pretty lucky, huh?â
you nod, agreeing. âi guess so..â you say softly.
you see austinâs eyebrow raise, his eyes dancing over your figure against the wall. you couldnât quite place what he was thinking. he could be thinking many things, but you wouldnât know. he was too hard to read, for you at least.
âsay, uh..â he smirks, biting his lip. âhow would you feel if i asked for your number?â his extra arm came up to the wall beside your head, entrapping you.
oh boy.
you hold the award close to your chest, looking up at him. âwell, iâd feel like iâd be dreaming but im not going to say no.â you answer.
âgood because i donât know what id do if you said noâ he chuckles, his eyes not leaving yours.
âiâll call you, weâll go out sometime. i wanna know more of you. if itâs anything like i saw tonight, i think i might fall in love with you.â
you can feel your ears burning as he speaks, his raspy voice making your legs feel weak. his eyes looking down on you, god. he was driving you insane. his slightly gelled hair, his grey suit, his cologne.
he was so close.
âthen i guess you should be ready for that,â you say, smirking.
you heard your name being called, your manager trying to get you for an interview.
you push yourself off the wall, but before you leave you pause. âcall me.â you wink and then walk away, leaving austinâs world rocked. never had he met someone like you, never has he been this intrigued and captivated by someone.
thank god he found you when he did.
#bartxnhood asks#bartxnhood writes#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler fanfic#austin butler fan fiction#austin butler x you#austin butler x y/n#elvis presley x reader
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Exploding Emotions- Part 2
After getting a lovely request and so much feedback, I managed to do a follow up for this Evan Buckley imagine, I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.
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Evan Buckley Masterlist
Part 1
Summary: While out on a call, an accident gives (Y/n) flashbacks to the night her husband got trapped beneath the fire truck and what happened to her while he was stuck.
Enjoy.
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"Mr Buckley, please-"
"Off! Off, get off!"
When a blunder of 'fuck off' and 'leave me the fuck alone' spluttered past Evan's bloodied lips, everyone in the room was surprised. He had been stuttering through the simplest of words since they got him in the ambulance, but now he was riled up he wasn't quieting down. And his expletives had been loud and clear.
His arms thrashed at his sides and he fought off the hands trying to push him back down on the gurney.
All the team looked at one another, unsure what to do. They needed him off the gurney and onto the bed, but Evan wasn't making any of this easy. The more Evan thrashed around, the harder he would make it on his leg and the more pain he was going to give himself. Not to mention moving and disrupting his leg could cause damage to the split blood vessels and torn muscles and the bone that was splintered in multiple places.
"Let us get him on the bed." Bobby waved his hand towards Hen and Eddie while Chimney stood in the doorway with Maddie clinging to his arm.
It was going to be easier if the team transferred him onto the bed in the middle of the room. They weren't leaving until Evan was safely in an operating room and right now, he was in the trauma unit in the ER. He was getting a portable X-ray, his leg would be assessed and they would see what kind of surgery he needed and get him on monitors and most importantly, medication.
Hen and Eddie busied themselves carefully twisting Evan onto his right side so they could place a slip sheet beneath him but once he was rolled onto his back again, his hands were moving. He smacked Eddie in the shoulder with a surprising amount of force before he fisted Bobby's shirt in his hands.
"(Y/n). (Y/n)."
"Okay, let's sort you out first, kid, okay?" Bobby held his arms while Eddie and Hen pulled the sheet on the count of three.
Evan screamed. His voice crumbled and the sound pierced through the air when he was jostled onto the trauma bed and the gurney was shunned out of the way.
"I m-missed it." Evan's words came out as a whisper that no one else seemed to hear. His eyes rolled from left to right and briefly tilted to look at the back of his head. He couldn't get his thoughts in order, he could barely see and he felt like he was on a boat, rocking over tumulous waves in the ocean. Everything fizzled out for a few seconds.
All he knew was he had missed one of the most important moments of his life.
His girl was already here. She was already in the world and Evan hadn't set his sights on her yet. He hadn't held her in his arms, he hadn't kissed her or introduced himself. He hadn't promised her the world and told her how much he loved her and everything he would do for her to give her the best life and make sure she was loved every day of her life.
He didn't hold her when she was born, he didn't cut the cord or hear her first little cry. He wasn't one of the first things she saw when she opened her eyes. His daughter had probably been held by ten other people by now, all of them except for him. Nurses, midwives, (Y/n), Maddie. His sister had seen his daughter before him.
How was this right? How was any of this fair?
His senses came back to him in one big hit like the truck had collapsed on him all over again when someone tried to touch his leg. His left leg, the one that wasn't currently split open, automatically jerked and twitched from the pain that radiated throughout his whole nervous system that had been shot to pieces by now.
He did his best to sit up. He didn't want to be laid down because it was making him feel woozy and sick.
He felt a bit better when someone angled the bed up so he was at an angle. He was barely sitting upright and still felt mostly laid down, but it was better than nothing.
His upper lip curled and he huffed when someone started undoing the buttons on his shirt. What were they doing? Why were they stripping him down? His trouser leg had already been cut off near the bottom of his boxers to expose the full extent of his injuries. He gruffed and groaned when he was leant forward and his shirt was pulled off him completely.
But when cold stickers attached to his chest and wires clipped in place, he started to get uncomfy. The ECG machine beeped to life, showing his erratic heartbeat that was far too fast for his own good. And when a blood pressure cuff was slid onto his arm, Evan reeled his arms to his chest and closed his eyes.
The numbers were too high. He was getting more and more unsettled and he was going to crash if this carried on.
He barely felt the lady tapping the back of his hand and inserting a cannula into his vein.
"(Y/n)! I want- I want-" Evan paused for a moment when someone held his arm. Their touch was gentle, their hands soft and their presence so close that his pleading came to an abrupt stop.
He twisted to the left to see who it was, to see if it was his wife like he was been praying for.
It wasn't.
"âŠblood thinners now, and get a dose of morphine ready. Get the leg in place for a quick X-ray, and I want the anaesthesiologist in here now."
Most of the doctor's words reached Evan's ears, but he was more focused on dragging his arm away from the nurse at his side. He didn't want her help. He wanted (Y/n). He wanted his wife. He needed his daughter. He hadn't seen her yet, were they going to be cruel enough to make Evan wait to see his daughter? Was nine months not long enough?
A bubbling scream erupted from his lips and his body writhed when his right leg was moved. Their touch was tender and slow but Evan felt like his leg was hanging on by a single thread that was about to snap. He didn't like the foam blocks placed on either side of his leg to get a clear X-ray. He didn't like them moving the wires and straps around his fragmented skin to make the shot clearer.
And he hated the small, portable X-ray that was wheeled over his leg and felt like half of his body was stuck in a tanning machine.
All the surrounding bodies stepped back so pictures could be taken and every time his leg was adjusted, his split knuckles bashed into the bedframe and he screamed.
Maybe it would be better if they just chopped the leg off. He wouldn't be in agony if they simply knocked him out and took it off. He wouldn't have this pain, this suffering, this agonising wait.
All he cared about was seeing his girls, his leg be damned.
"I want my wife!" Blood and spit foamed past his lips and acidic tears stained his already bloodshot cheeks as his chest started to shudder up and down against the bed.
He moved his trembling hands to the ECG wires that felt like they had been superglued to his chest. He ripped them off without a second thought and tried to throw them away. He snagged the cannula from his wrist, not caring that even more blood was leaving his body and was going to drain him dry. He had to find his girls, wherever they were. They were too far away from him.
"Mr Buckley calm down. You need to let us help you."
"Buck no don't do that. Stop it!" There was an odd sense of authority in Hen's voice but it fell upon deaf ears.
"I want m-my wife!" His words screamed through the air and had everyone wincing and jerking away from him.
But when one of the doctors grabbed Evan's wrist and shoulder and tried to pin him to the bed, all Hell broke loose. A deafening roar left Evan's lips, his body jerked up from the bed and he thrust his arm up as harsh as he could until his elbow smashed into the doctor's nose.
The doctor stumbled back, knocking into the ECG machine before Eddie grabbed him, saving him from a harsh landing on the floor. Both his hands moved to cradle his nose that was splurting out blood and had officially been broken.
He ripped himself out of Eddie's steadying hands and stumbled to the back of the room. He couldn't help anymore. He coughed into his hands, anger and resentment in his eyes before he looked around the room.
"Someone get his damn wife in here before he kills the anaesthesiologist." With a shake of his head, the doctor headed out the room to get himself cleaned up and assessed by a colleague.
If Evan was going to start breaking bones until he had his wife in the room, then someone had to go and fetch her. They couldn't have him lunging for the anaesthesiologist who they would need to put him under ready for an operating room.
Bobby dragged his hand through his hair and twisted to look at the doorway while Hen and Eddie moved over to Evan. Hen busied herself holding Evan's hips down to the bed while Eddie grabbed his wrists, bracing one knee on the side of the bed so he could lean over Evan and pin him down as he struggled.
A round of "No!" and "Fuck off!" was spat at them, but neither of them listened.
"This is for your own good, if you want that leg then stop fighting us."
"Maddie, is (Y/n) in recovery now?" The pain in Bobby's eyes was evident. He didn't want his daughter to witness her husband in this state, it wouldn't be fair. She had been through an ordeal herself and she had only just had her baby. She would be exhausted and in pain and maybe on meds herself, she didn't need to be moving about she should be resting.
But Bobby knew his daughter. He knew she would be worrying, if not crying and screaming about not knowing the state of her husband. She would want to see Evan and right now, they needed her help.
When Maddie nodded, Bobby brushed the few tears out of his eyes. "Go bring her down here as fast as you can. She's the only one he'll listen to."
Maddie set off into a sprint, Chimney following one step behind her. They would comandeer a wheelchair and snatch (Y/n) from her hospital bed. She would willingly come down to the trauma unit with them once they hurriedly explained what was going on. They needed (Y/n) to calm Evan down because they would end up hurting him to sedate him if he continued to fight.
The remaining doctor and nurses looked at the X-ray images, conferring together in the corner of the room about the damage to the bone. They were all in agreement. They could save the leg if the blood vessels could be repaired and the nerves were in tact, and judging by the way his leg jerked and reacted to stimulant, he had a chance.
"Give me your hand for the IV." Hen turned around with a huff and pinned the right side of her chest and hip down into Evan's abdomen to try and keep him still and in place.
She tried to take his hand when Eddie let go of his wrist, but she couldn't get a good grasp when Evan started throwing his arm out at her. He wasn't opposed to elbowing, hitting and punching his colleagues if they were going to continue pinning him to the bed like this.
"Alright kid." Leaning over while Eddie had Evan's shoulders and left hand and Hen was practically laying on his waist, Bobby grabbed Evan's chin. It stopped him from trying to sit up and prevented him from writhing back and forth so much. "My daughter isn't coming in here with you lashing out at your own team and bleeding all over the place. So get that IV back in and stay put."
As much as Bobby wanted to be understanding, caring, compassionate, and be the father Evan had seemed to make him when they became family, he just couldn't. He couldn't give in to those feelings because they were making Bobby cry and giving in to Evan's lashing out wasn't going to help.
Bobby wouldn't let (Y/n) in here if Evan was lashing out because what if he hurt her by mistake? What if seeing him in a state like this pushed (Y/n) over the edge and sent her into shock? What if it upset her too much and she broke down?
If he wanted to see his wife, he had to calm down just a little and let them help him. (Y/n) wouldn't let Evan fight everyone in the room if she was here and they all knew it.
They were lucky he hadn't been restrained to the bed already for breaking a doctor's nose. Bobby was going to have to have a few conversations and do some pleading to make sure the doctor didn't sue or try and cause problems for Evan after this. But the doctor hadn't seemed vengeful, he seemed to understand that Evan was acting out of trauma and the worst agony of his life. This wasn't how he usually would be.
(Y/n) could hear evan before she set her sights on him.
Her hands were trembling, curled as tightly as possible around the arms of the wheelchair until her knuckles were close to popping through her skin.
The discomfort she felt and the agonising pain she had just been through with their daughter was nothing compared to the symphony her heart was creating from being apart from Evan. The agony she was in from not knowing if Evan was okay, from knowing he was in immense agony and there was nothing she could do about it.
Maybe now she could do something. She wanted to be there when he had been trapped. She had so desperately wanted to hold his hand and kiss his tears away and hold his hand through the mess. But she couldn't. Maybe now, she could calm him through the storm and then be there on the other side when he was out of surgery.
The sound of her husband's screams and tormented, gasping sobs called out to (Y/n) before they were down the hall in the trauma unit.
She pushed up onto trembling, heavy legs that felt like they were made of cement. Her knees tensed and tightened but hersocks glided against the floor as she shuffled towards Evan's room, using the wall as leverage to push herself faster. The dull cramps in her abdomen livened up as she moved, but she didn't care.
The sounds in trauma room three died down when (Y/n) appeared in the doorway. One arm secured around her waist, the other clinging to the doorframe. Hair askew and falling out the bun at the back of her head, eyes heavy, knees trembling and tears drenching her face once again.
Bobby's lips rolled together into a thin line that stopped him from bursting into tears then and there. He kept hold of Evan's shoulders but his eyes stayed focused on his daughter as she hurried into the room.
Both Hen and Eddie let go of Evan and backed away until they were stood at the far side of the room, allowing the doctor and two nurses to take their place so they could continue to assess him and get him ready. And Bobby finally let go of Evan and stepped back, resting one hand on his daughter's back as he leaned over to peck her temple.
As soon as Evan's sights set on (Y/n), a river of tears poured down his face and the ache in his heart overtook the throbbing trauma splitting apart in his leg.
Trembling set in all over his body and he finally stopped writhing against the bed as if all the worry, the tension and the pain had left his body. He didn't realise the nurse had confiscated his left hand so she could inject blood thinners and the morphine into his cannula.
Instead, Evan reached his right hand out towards (Y/n) as his lower lip wobbled and he started to sob.
A shudder ran down (Y/n)'s spine when she dared to look down at Evan's legs and her hand moved to cover her mouth. But it didn't stop a broken "Oh God," from leaving her lips.
It was worse than she expected. Seeing him being dragged free from that truck, he looked better than this. He looked like his leg was still attached and useable and able to be fixed. But seeing him right now, with the muscle split apart, the bone shattered into tiny fragments and all the blood soaked down his leg, (Y/n) felt sick.
Was his leg going to be saved? What would happen if Evan woke up with nothing below the knee? How would be cope? What would they do?
Shock had (Y/n) shaking and spasming, but she forced herself to look away from the tattered mess that was her husband's leg. Her hands reached out and she stood as close to the bed as possible, with her dad stood behind her, close by in case he had to step in.
Reaching her left hand out, (Y/n) shakily dragged her fingers through Evan's hair that was damp with smoke, sweat and surprisingly, blood. She raked her nails through the matted knots and leaned as close as possible while her right hand deadlocked around his left hand that was held out towards her.
"Oh baby," It hurt to crease forward but she didn't care, (Y/n) leaned over and smothered her lips against his temple. She could feel how flushed he was and he smelt of smoke and dirt and burnt rubber.
She inhaled all the different scents until all she could focus on was the scent of her strawberry shampoo that she bought multitudes of because she knew her husband used it every time he washed his hair. Her lips moved against his temple, whispering sweet nothings against his skin while he clenched her hand so tightly she wondered if he was going to break her hand.
Evan had gone oddly still on the bed, the only movement being the trembling that wouldn't stop, even with the high dose of morphine they gave him a few moments ago. After a few broken cries and hitched breaths, Evan turned his head to the right and burrowed his face into (Y/n)'s lower chest. He tried to take deep breaths, breathing into the shirt she wore which he recognised as one of his own along with his pair of joggers.
So that was what she had packed into the maternity bag she made in advance for when she went into labour.
"I- I'm so, s-so sorry-" He couldn't speak clearly for hiccupping and he let go of her hand in favour of binding his arm around her waist. He didn't want to hurt her, but he reeled her closer and smothered his face against her lower chest. His cries got worse when he nudged his nose against her stomach that now felt different.
Empty.
"The only thing you need to be sorry for, is hurting that doctor. You're gonna be okay, baby. It's okay."
She had been told why they were dragging her down to the trauma unit, although the moment Maddie said Evan needed her, (Y/n) was already up out of bed. She would have run all the way down here if her sister in law hadn't of practically heaved her into the wheelchair Chimney confiscated on the way up. They told her Evan was lashing out and he'd accidentally whacked one of his doctors.
They explained they were worried how they would sedate him in this state. No one had seen him so riled up and infuriated and broken before.
"I wasn't t-there⊠you had⊠had her alone." The more Evan thought about it, the worse he felt. He wanted to change time. He wanted to go back and put the universe back into place. He wanted to make everything better, have no mangled leg and have his daughter in his arms and the memory of her birth in his mind.
He knew for as long as he lived, he was never going to get over this. The ADHD part of his brain was going to hold this over him for the rest of his life. He was going to be infuriated for as long as he lived that the universe had broken him on the very night that he was supposed to welcome his first child into the world.
He tried to open his eyes, but looking at (Y/n)'s misshapen stomach only made him howl. And nuzzling his nose and lips against her soft bump where there was no longer a baby moving and kicking him made him hold her tighter.
He bound his arm around her back until he was beginning to hurt her and he buried his face into her abdomen until (Y/n) had to tilt her head back and take a deep breath to control her reaction. She didn't want him to know it hurt to hold her tight and she didn't want Evan to feel any worse. If holding her was going to calm a tiny part of him down then that was okay, (Y/n) would bear the uncomfortableness. She had been through much worse tonight, and the night was far from over.
"It's okay, shh." Tilting her head back down, (Y/n) kissed Evan's curls and moved her free hand to brush her thumb across his cheek. She glided her fingers around the side of his neck and slowly moved her thumb up and down his cheek and across his jaw while she pressed sloppy kisses to the top of his head.
"Is she o-okay?"
The tender tone in Evan's voice made (Y/n)'s heart soar, break and melt all at the same time.
She pulled back just a tiny bit so she could bend her knees and move down to Evan's height. Her fingers continued to card through his hair which seemed to be calming him down and keeping him in a soothed state. Her other hand cupped the side of his face and she pressed a chaste kiss to his wet, bloodied lips.
"She's perfect, a-and she's waiting for you." (Y/n) took a deep breath when she heard the door open and felt her dad's hand on her shoulder.
"They need to sedate him now and take him for surgery." Bobby kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head as he squeezed her shoulder. They had given Evan morphine, they had done an X-ray and they had managed to see his nerve endings and his blood vessels were somewhat in tact and could be saved.
He needed to go straight to an operating room so they could start patching him up. With Evan being so enraptured with (Y/n), the nurse had already managed to give him some more medicine through his IV to settle his heartbeat. And she was now prepping something to bring down his blood pressure so he would be stable for surgery.
"Baby, someone's here to prep you now."
A tiny, croaked whimper left Evan's lips and he tried to bury his face in her stomach again, but (Y/n) kept hold of his cheek and nudged her nose against his.
"It's okay, because you're gonna get that leg fixed, and when you wake up, I'll be right here holding your hand. And you can see your little girl, okay baby?"
(Y/n) figured the noise Evan let out was him agreeing with her. His eyes closed and his trembling simmered down for a moment when (Y/n) kissed his chapped lips, tasting the blood on her tongue when they parted. She leaned back up to her full height again which made her stomach feel a bit better. But having Evan tucking himself into her stomach like he was filling the void their daughter had left made her feel queasy.
He stayed compliant, left arm now wrapped around (Y/n) while his right hand was held in the nurse's frail grip so she could give him the medicines to settle his heartbeat and blood pressure.
The anaesthesiologist checked Evan's chart while the ECG clips were reattached to his chest, his leg was shifted and kept in place and the bed was lowered so he was flat on his back again.
"Okay Mr Buckley, once this is in your system, we'll get this mask on you and I'll need you to start counting for me. Don't worry, when you wake up, your lovely lady will still be right here with you." The newest doctor seemed calm and attentive with a charming smile that Evan couldn't see as he was still tucked up against his wife.
He must deal with troublesome patients a lot.
He fiddled with the medicine trolley and once a large dose was in Evan's system to work with the anaesthesia, he found the mask and got the tank turned on.
Evan whimpered again, trying his best to tuck himself into his wife, but no one was having it. He was compliant now, they could move him with ease without fearing a broken bone in retaliation.
"S'alright baby, I'll be here when you wake up." (Y/n) kissed his temple while Eddie gently rolled his shoulders back so he was laid on his back.
She began dragging her fingers through his hair in a soft, rhythmic motion and went back to holding Evan's hand so it wasn't bruising her waist anymore. She could feel tears drenching her face when Evan shuddered at the mask going over his lips. He didn't count like he had been asked, but he tried to mutter something which was as good as counting.
The shaking started to subside the more anaesthesia he inhaled until he was loosening his grip on (Y/n)'s hand. Softly drifting into a calm state of sleep, with the last thing he could make out being (Y/n)'s voice as she murmured "I love you." In his ear.
***
Opening her tired eyes, (Y/n) cast them about the room and soon felt herself waking up immediately when she heard Evan started to mumble.
It took some effort to push herself up from the small cot bed that had been laid out in the right corner of the room and (Y/n) felt her stomach crease and twinge when she pushed up to her feet. All she wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep, but she hadn't slept for over two days now.
As soon as Evan went into the operating theatre, (Y/n) thought that maybe she would get an hour or two of sleep, but her body decided against her. She couldn't sleep, her mind was too wired with the sound of Evan's cries and the mangled formation of his leg burned into her eyelids.
She hadn't been able to settle for fear of seeing Evan come out of that operation with only one leg. She wouldn't be able to piece her husband back together if he lost his leg. And (Y/n) didn't know what she would do if the operation didn't go well.
She had spent the hours cradling her daughter and crying while her parents tried in vain to comfort her and reassure her that everything would be okay.
When Evan's operation was finally over and they got him onto a ward in the recovery unit, (Y/n) made a small request. She was going to be discharged in the morning as long as her baby was feeding properly and all the checks were okay. (Y/n) asked if she could stay in Evan's room until she was discharged. She didn't care if that meant sleeping in a chair, just as long as she and their daughter could be in the same room as Evan so when he woke up, their family would be together.
Bobby and Athena had finally gone home for a few hours of sleep and would be back in the morning. Maddie had been in to see Evan, but he had been ninety percent asleep and high on morphine so he hadn't spoken a word. But she had been reassured her brother was okay and would be on the mend, so she and the team had all gone home with the promise that tomorrow afternoon, they would be back to see him.
Now though, now Evan seemed that he was finally coming out of the anaesthetic and (Y/n) was hoping he would finally wake up and be conscious enough to talk.
Shuffling across from the little cot bed, (Y/n) slowly heaved herself up to sit on the side of Evan's bed. She took his left hand in hers and entwined their fingers together while her right hand gently brushed across the side of his temple. She carded her fingers through his hair and peppered a few kisses to his cheek as he began to groan and twist his head from left to right.
It took a few minutes for him to properly come around. His fingers twitched in her grasp, his eyelids fluttered and little murmurs and noises left his chapped lips before he finally started to wake up.
"Evan, baby, are you with me?" Her fingers tangled through his hair when he opened his eyes and managed to focus his sights on her.
She leaned back to be out the way when Evan moved his free hand and shakily clutched the oxygen mask strapped over his mouth and nose. With one swift yank, he ripped it off his face and tossed it to the side.
"(Y/n)? I- did IâŠ" He pressed his head back into the pillow and arched his chest up off the bed as he tried to draw in a deep breath.
Oh God, why did his mind feel like it had been beaten with a whisk? Why did his body feel like he was floating but with the absolution that any moment now someone was going to yank his chains and have him falling through the air to a harsh landing.
When his eyes opened again, Evan moved his right hand until his fingers were tracing over his thigh, but he couldn't find the will to move them any further past his knee.
Did he still have both his legs?
He could feel tears welling up in his eyes that were aching from the headache forming in his throbbing temple. But when he looked over at his wife, he found comfort in the tepid smile on her lips and the feel of her lips pressing against his cheek.
"Your leg's still there, baby, just with a few bolts and pins to keep the bone in place. You'll be up and walking in no time."
The relief was evident in Evan's features and he allowed a tear or two to slip down his features while he squeezed her hand. He tried to take a few deep breaths. He still had both legs. He would be able to walk soon. It might take some time, but he wasn't going to be learning how to walk with a prosthetic or crutches. He would be walking about soon. He would still be able to do his job.
"Talk to me baby, do you feel okay?"
"I feel high."
A quiet laugh rumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she leaned down to kiss him, feeling elated when he squeezed her hand and leaned into her touch.
Feeling high was preferable to the pain he had been in last night. It was much more preferable than being in agony or feeling
uncomfortable or sick or drowsy or like he was having a bad reaction to the medication. If the morphine was making him feel high then it was doing its job and making sure he was comfortable and that's what they wanted.
"Good." Her lips formed a smile, but there was something hiding in her eyes that made Evan uneasy. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling his cheek into her palm, but when he saw the tears in her eyes, he felt his heart rate picking up. "Evan, I'm sorry baby. I'm so sorry I wasn't there, I tried-"
"You? Sweetheart it's me that should have been there."
He tried to sit up, but he didn't have the willpower or the core strength and he flopped back into the pillow with a groan. Until (Y/n) let go of his face to press the button beside the bed, tilting the bed up at an angle so he was sitting up rather than lying down.
Sorrow filled his eyes as his right hand moved out to skim his fingers across her stomach. Only a few days ago he had done that and felt kicking against his palm. He had kissed her stomach and told their baby that he couldn't wait to meet and hold them and kiss them.
Now it was all over and he hadn't been there for any of it. He had let (Y/n)) go through something so traumatic without him and he was never going to be able to rectify that.
"You needed me, you needed help, and I- I couldn't help you-"
(Y/n) wondered how things would have gone if she hadn't of been in labour last night. Would she have been able to go to the scene if she wasn't in labour? Would her mum have taken her down there and let her hold Evan's hand while the team got him out? Could she have calmed him down while he was stuck beneath that truck? Could she have calmed him and travelled in the ambulance with him and made some sort of difference when he arrived?
She wanted someone to have been holding his hand through that ordeal. None of the team had told him he would be okay, they didn't hold his hand or kneel beside him to let him know he wasn't alone. Bomber or not, they shouldn't have left Evan alone. (Y/n) was never going to let go of that and she would never forgive herself for being in the hospital when Evan needed her the most.
"I broke every promise I made you. I wasn't with you⊠you gave birth alone, I- I wanted to be there, to hold your hand, a-and hold herâŠ" When tears started to fall down Evan's face, (Y/n) let go of his hand in favour of cupping his face and pressing a tender, wet kiss to his lips.
"Maddie kindly took your place," Her thumbs swiped beneath his eyes to dry away his tears. "We can't change what happened, baby, but you're gonna be there for so much more. Her first word, her first steps, when she falls and cries and laughs, you'll see it all."
No matter how badly they wanted to change what had happened, they couldn't. All they could do was make sure that nothing like this happened again, and they could move forward.
(Y/n) didn't dare broach the subject just yet about Evan's recovery. The doctor was going to have to explain that he would need another operation to remove the pins, and maybe a third if the bone needed setting again or if any complications arose. Physio was going to take some time and he wouldn't be at work for at least five months, maybe more.
But that would give Evan ample time to be with their daughter. He could hold her and cuddle her to his heart's content. He would be there for her first smile, her giggles, her moving and interacting with them. And in the years to come, he would see her first words and her first steps, he would be there for everything that was important. Missing the birth wasn't much in comparison to what he was going to witness in the future.
"She won't remember or hold it against you that you weren't there, you know. I'd rather you miss the birth and be there for the first word or her first day at school. You'll be there when it counts, that's what she will remember."
Tilting her head forward, (Y/n) pressed her temple down into Evan's chest, smiling against his skin when she felt him kiss the top of her head and weave his arm around to cup the back of her neck. She felt his fingers tangle into her hair and they stayed like that for a few moments until (Y/n) finally tilted her head to look up at him.
"Are you ready to meet her?"
The light that lit up Evan's eyes was one that made (Y/n)'s stomach flip and she felt him bristle against her as he looked around the room. He hadn't thought she would be here or anywhere nearby, but Evan's eyes locked on the small plastic cot he hadn't noticed before at the far side of the room.
His baby was here. His baby girl was sleeping soundly across the room, so close that he should have felt her presence already.
He had waited long enough.
He didn't realise he was shaking until (Y/n) glided her hand up and down his chest and pressed a soft, fluttering kiss against his cheek. She patted his chest and slowly stood up to move across to the cot, feeling Evan's eyes on her with every step she took.
(Y/n) brushed her cheek against her shoulder to try and stop herself from crying when she turned around and slowly perched back down on the side of the bed. Evan was still shaking and he didn't look certain that he would be able to hold their daughter without dropping her, but that wasn't going to stop him.
His arms moved out before he could think about any of it and his teeth sank into his bottom lip as he trembled, desperate for that little weight to be rested in his arms.
A quiet gasp left his lips when the newborn was placed in the crook of his left arm and the movement seemed to wake her up. He didn't mean to wake her when she had clearly been sound asleep, but he was mesmerised by those bright, wide eyes that stared up at him when she came around. Her hands had little mittens covering them so she didn't scratch her nose in her sleep and Evan reached out to remove one of them.
He wanted to see the difference in the size of their hands. All of her tiny fingers could barely curl around his thumb and when he brushed his index finger against her chubby cheek, she actually leaned into the touch.
"She's beautiful." He couldn't help the tears he shed when he looked down at his little girl in his arms.
It took Evan a moment to remove his finger from her tiny hand, but when he did, he carefully shifted his hand around so he was holding her sides, allowing him to lift her up. He held her close to kiss her cheek that felt warm and cosy against his skin, and he tugged the itchy, uncomfortable hospital gown out the way so he could lean his daughter against his chest.
He loved the feeling when she instantly nuzzled herself into his bare chest as if the warmth was reeling her in. He curled his large hand around the back of her head and glided his thumb over the small streaks of hair that felt as soft as silk against the rough pad of his thumb.
The way she smacked her lips against his chest felt like she was trying to give him a kiss and Evan reciprocated the touch by attaching his lips to the top of her warm head.
"We need a name, up to now the nurses are calling her baby Buckley." (Y/n) dragged the back of her hand gently across their daughter's head, nudging Evan's hand before she moved to rest her hand on his arm instead.
Their eyes locked for a few seconds while Evan remembered the little agreement they'd had. They had a list of four names they had agreed on, depending on whether they had a girl or a boy and whoever guessed the gender right got to pick the name. Evan guessed a girl.
"Do you think Lilah suits her?" He mused, not breaking his lips away from her head since his girl was nicely snugged into his chest.
For a brief moment, Evan let his eyes drag away from both his girls and he looked down at his right leg. He had a cast from his foot all the way up to the middle of his thigh. Great. For the next month, he wouldn't be walking without a struggle. It sent shivers up his spine, but he warded away the bad thoughts with the knowledge that he still had a leg and he could learn to walk properly again and he could build up his strength.
He wasn't starting from the beginning with a prosthetic and crutches, waiting to adapt.
"Lilah Buckley it is." (Y/n) murmured softly, leaning across so she could kiss Evan's neck while her hand moved to rest on his good thigh.
She watched him for a few more moments as he got Lilah comfortable on his chest and slowly reclined into the pillows, easing her back on his chest. He still hadn't stopped kissing her temple and the way he was leaning from left to right was slow and almost unnoticable, but it made her smile. She dragged her free hand up and down his arm, gliding her nail across his skin to cause goosebumps in her wake as her head tilted to one side and she grinned.
"You're not gonna put her down, are you?" (Y/n) had a feeling that for however long Evan was going to be in hospital, their daughter was going to remain in his arms.
If he couldn't get up and walk about or carry her, he would be sitting here. Evan would want to feed her, he would want to wind her and cuddle her and get her to sleep on his chest so he never had to put her down. It was going to be hard for anyone else to try and hold her when Evan seemed to want to attach her to his person twenty-four seven.
The way he grinned against their daughter's head confirmed (Y/n) was right, but she didn't mind. She could see the serenity in Evan's eyes and the calmness that was washing over his face. He wasn't bothered about the state of his legs, the pins attached to his bone that was covered in a cast. He couldn't be bothered to think about the nuisance this cast was going to be for the next few weeks.
Evan couldn't even work up the nerve to think about the struggle he had ahead of him. All he could think about was the sense of peace he had now that his daughter was in his arms.
"Never."
#imagine#911 imagine#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#pregnant! reader#evan buckley imagine#buck x reader#buck imagine#bobby nash#eddie diaz#exploding emotions
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Ooooo oh my god that Simon anesthesia story was so good đ
And omg What about a flip of that situation?? Kinda based on that one video where the girl is under anesthesia and her boyfriend kisses her and sheâs like âTHAT CUTE GUY IS KISSIN ME!! :0â
this is such a cute idea, i love it. i hope it's up to your expectations! sorry it took so long and that it's so short T^T
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 364
warnings: none really, lots of fluff. mentions of surgery, mentions of dental surgery.
a/n: ahhhh first fic since i came back, sorry for the long wait everyone T^T when i regained motivation, i got locked out of my blog for a few hours ans it was very stressful but all is well now and i'm really trying to stick to writing now, so send in all your ideas n requests!
if you were to rate how you felt on a scale of 1 to 10 right now, youâd probably answer 11 with a giggle just from how whacked you were from the anesthesia after your surgery.
simon couldn't take you seriously right now, and it was kind of adorable actually, trying to stiffle his laughter at how shy you were acting around him as if he wasn't your boyfriend.
âhowâre you feelinâ there, luv?â he asks with a grin on his face.
ââm great, thanks doctor.â
oh cute. you thought he was your doctor.
âyou know who i am, (name)?â simon chuckles.
âi⊠definitely do. yes.â you reply slowly, confusion evident in your voice but you were determined to not give away the fact that your memory was hazy right now.
âdo you now?â another soft chuckle leaves simon as he continues to press you. he leans a little closer to you, suppressing his chuckles when your face begins to burn a little redder from his proximity to you.
âmhm.â you nod, looking up at the man who was clearly trying to tease you into an oblivion.
âwell thatâs good.â simon says, tipping your head back to look up at him with a gentle grasp on your chin, his tumb and forefinger gripping your face softly yet firmly.
he leans down to press a quick, loving kiss to your lips and the reaction you have is absolutely priceless to simon.
your face is as red as a strawberry and your eyes are wide like dinner plates as you stare up at him in pure shock and awe. simon can't help but let out another, deep chuckle at your reaction.
meanwhile, your mind is racing a million miles a minute.
this cute guy just kissed me! oh my gosh! what do i do? what am i supposed to do?! he just kissed me!
when the man speaks up, you swear youâve never felt dumber as the memories come back to you like a flood.
âiâm your boyfriend, darlinâ. simon, remember?â
you have never felt more embarrassed in your life.
and simonâs never felt more in love.
#ghostedĂ©abha#ghostedĂ©abha: simon riley#Ă©abha writes#Ă©abha's đ#awnie's amazing nonniesđ#ghostedĂ©abha: ghost#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley fluff#simon riley x reader fluff#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader fluff#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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[ sometimes goodbye is a second chance ] j. hughes
paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary : Jack and his ex reunite at Nicoâs wedding, reigniting some old feelings between the pair
warning(s) : a heavy makeout session, mentions of injured!jack & hockey injuries
authorâs note : was reading something for jack then realized that itâs been a hot second since i wrote anything for him so thatâs how this lil thing was born lmaoo. enjoy loves
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She wasn't going to go to the wedding. As a matter of fact, she made sure she had plans for that weekend that she was supposed to be in Switzerland so she could use them as an excuse to why she couldn't be there for the wedding.
Then Nico did everything but get on his hands and knees to beg her to come since she is one of his close friends. How could she say no to those big doe eyes that the captain of the Devils has? Even she's not immune to those eyes of his.
It's a beautiful day when she arrives for the wedding. Nico waits for her by baggage claim when she walks into Bern Airport after getting off the plane that brought her to Switzerland. She smiles and runs up to her close friend. Despite everything that happened right after the new year, she and Nico stayed close.
Well, as close as they could be while she was busy avoiding one of his teammates.
When she gets to Nico, she wraps her arms around him. "So happy you could come," Nico tells her as they back away from each other. "Mia is even excited that you're here."
"Nico, I can't ever say no to either of you," she teases. "I'm happy that I came too though. Forgot how beautiful it is here."
She grabs her suitcase and duffel bag before she walks outside to Nico's car. "So, all the guests are at the hotel already since the rehearsal dinner is tonight on the roof," he tells her as they load her stuff into the car. "There's probably enough time for you to take a nap if you want to take one since I know you're a big napper after you travel." She playfully punches his shoulder as soon as she's settled in the passenger's seat. "I'm just saying that you came in eight hours before the dinner so you have time to sleep if you want!"
"You don't have to call me a 'big napper'," she retorts with a smile on her face. Nico sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh, how grown up. Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"
"And my fiancé finds it cute when I stick my tongue out at her."
"Doesn't work on me, Nico. Hate to break it to you."
After about twenty minutes of driving, Nico pulls up to the hotel. She looks up at the building with a sigh.
The entire drive, her mind has been on her ex-boyfriend. She knows that he'll be here, but she doesn't know if he's already here.
Nico turns the car off as soon as he finds a parking spot. She sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. She waits to get out though. She doesn't know how she feels about running into Jack, but right now she's very anxious.
It's not that they ended on bad terms. She just couldn't watch him keep playing and risking long term damage to his shoulder.
He kept forcing himself to get back on the ice before his body was ready and he wasn't able to heal correctly. She couldn't bear to watch him keep hurting himself, so she walked away.
Of course she kept tabs on him throughout the rest of the season after she walked away in January. It broke her heart to miss the Stadium Series game because she was looking forward to seeing both him and Luke play. She was ecstatic when she saw online that he was going to be getting surgery on the shoulder that he hurt in the game against Chicago.
She didn't reach out though. She didn't think she had the right.
"I know you're worried about seeing him," Nico states. "I made sure that your rooms were on different floors so you won't see each other until later. He, um ..." he trails off. "He tells me all the time how much he wishes he listened to you and let his body heal."
"He only keeps saying that because he wishes he never lost me," she comments as she blinks away the tears that have formed in her eyes. "I walked away because I couldn't keep watching him hurt himself to play a sport. I know he loves it, but he loved it more than he loved me so I walked away."
"He got surgery back in April," Nico tells her. "Before the season even ended to get a head start on his recovery. He started doing physical therapy two weeks ago so he's doing well. He'll get back on the ice in a month. I told him to take it easy."
A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. "Why couldn't he just do this sooner?" she says. Her voice is so shaky that she can barely speak.
Nico grabs her hand. "He needed to lose you to realize that what he was doing was not okay," he replies. "I know how hard it's been for you. Both of you. I think that the two of you should talk this weekend. For both your sakes."
She shakes her head and looks at Nico. "I don't know if I can face him after walking away from him," she cries. "You didn't see the look on his face when I left the apartment that day, Nico. You didn't see how much I hurt him when he was already in physical pain. I don't know if he even wants to talk to me after that. I kicked him when he was already down."
He pulls her across the armrest and into a hug. She cries into his shoulder and grasps onto his t-shirt. "He's worried that you won't talk to him," he admits. "Just so you know. If you want to talk to him, do it. You both need some closure."
The worst part is that she knows it too. She walked away and didn't reply to a single one of his texts or calls. She moved to Philadelphia to her brother's apartment so she was just far enough away that he couldn't drive to her but close enough if something happened to him.
She never stopped caring, and she should probably tell him that.
With a nod, she pulls away. "Okay," she sighs. "I'll talk to him. Only if he wants to talk to me though."
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
She doesn't talk to Jack at the rehearsal dinner. As a matter of fact, she doesn't even see him at the rehearsal dinner. There aren't a ton of people at the dinner either so she thought that she would see him. It surprises her that she didn't.
Getting ready the next afternoon though, she knows that today will be the day she sees him. At least she'll look her best when he sees her for the first time since she walked out on that cold January day. Same goes for him. Jack's always looked good in a suit and tie. She wonders which one of his game day suits he'll be in today.
Three rolls around and she heads from her second floor hotel room down to the first floor. She'd walk down the stairs if her feet weren't already killing her from the heels she has on.
The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom because of how many guests will be attending. The reception and dinner are taking place up on the rooftop at five so Nico and his new wife can get some pictures taken up there before everyone joins them.
Elevator doors open and she's met with the one person she's been wanting to avoid until the reception tonight. Jack freezes like a deer in headlights, but his eyes drink her in as she steps onto the elevator.
It's not like she's wearing something very revealing. The top of her red dress hugs her body, shoves off her curves, and pushes her breasts up a little bit. Her loose sleeves hang off her shoulders. The skirt falls to her knees and is kind of puffy.
"Uh, hi," Jack breathes out as the door closes behind her. "You, um, look good."
"Hi," she replies as she runs her fingers through her curls. "You too. Um, look good." His red tie with his black and white suit matches her red dress. Nico definitely told him what color that she was going to wear.
His eyes flicker down her body again and she feels self-conscious of the way her dress hugs her body. She crosses her arms over her chest and prays that the doors open soon.
Jack quickly picks up on how uncomfortable she is. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Stare?" she interrupts. "It's fine." The elevator dings and the doors slide open behind her. "I'll see you around."
She quickly makes her escape. Her heels are muffled by the carpet but she finds the room that she knows Nico is in.
After she knocks a handful of times, the door opens. Nico is the one that opens the door. He looks handsome in his suit and tie. He has a white rose hanging out of his flap on his jacket. "Oh, don't you look nice dressed up," she comments.
Nico rolls his eyes and lets her in the room. "Oh, shush," Nico retorts. She looks behind him as she walks into the room to and sees his older brother, his dad, Timo, and Jonas.
"Hi," she says to everyone in the room. "Just needed to come talk to Nico for a second. Won't keep him very long. I swear."
"What's going on?" Nico questions behind her.
She turns to face him. "I ran into Jack," she replies. "Wearing a red tie. Want to tell me why he was wearing a red tie when I'm wearing a red dress?"
He shoots her a smile. "Purely coincidental," Nico tells her. "He does play on a team that wears red and black so many he was missing the team when he picked out his tie."
"Nico Hischier, I'm going to kill you on your wedding day if you don't start talking in the next two seconds," she snaps.
âI donât know what you want me to say,â Nico laughs as he throws his hands up in the air in surrender. âI have no idea why Jackâs wearing a red tie. I didnât tell him what you were wearing if thatâs why you came marching in here to yell at me.â
She sighs and rubs her fingers through her curls. âOkay,â she replies. âI think Iâm just losing it or something. Kind of freaking out.â
âHave you talked to him?â asks Timo. She looks over Nicoâs shoulder to look at him. âI mean, it might solve that unresolved tension between you. Itâs so thick that I can feel it when heâs not even in the room.â
With a blink of her eyes, she says, âI canât believe I never thought of talking to him. Wow.â
Timo rolls his eyes and Nico takes over the conversation. âLook, I know youâre avoiding him because you think he doesnât want to talk to you,â he begins to say. âBut even Timo and Seigs can attest to this, Jack wants to talk to you. Seriously. Heâs nervous you wonât talk to him. Youâll be in the same area for the rest of the day. Please say more than just âyou look goodâ to him.â
She groans in slight frustration. âYou are insufferable,â she tells her close friend. âGood luck Mia.â
Thereâs laughter behind her as she walks out of the room to get to where the ceremony is taking place in one of the larger rooms.
Itâs almost like a very large conference room with a lot of chairs. There has to be nearly a hundred chairs in the room. She greets Nicoâs mom and sister as well as some of his Devils teammates.
Across the room, she sees Jack talking to his brothers. All three of them look very handsome. Thatâs when she realizes that Jackâs arm isnât in a sling like he was the last time she saw a picture of him. She was too shocked earlier in the elevator to notice that he doesnât have on a sling. His hair is a little longer than it was a few months ago. He smiles at something Quinn said.
She takes her seat right behind the Devils, sitting right behind Jack of all people. He sits between Haula and Merc.
When she goes to say something, the ceremony starts.
Talking to Jack is just going to have to wait.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
Thereâs an hour between when the ceremony ends and the reception begins so Nico and Mia can take pictures up on the roof. She needs to touch up her makeup since she decided to cry while Nico was saying his vows. Her best friend grew up so much since they met back at the 2017 NHL draft.
A lot of the guests have already made their way to the roof when she gets up there. She grabs a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter is holding and takes a big gulp of it to prepare her for the night to come.
She spots Dawson, Luke, Jesper, and Simon all standing by the railing. No Jack so itâs safe to approach despite his little brother standing there. She hopes that Luke doesnât hate her guts for breaking his brotherâs heart.
When she approaches the group of Devils, Dawson gets excited. âOh my God, I didnât think you were coming,â he says as he drapes an arm over her shoulders.
âAnd miss a Swiss wedding?â she laughs. âAbsolutely not. I wasnât about to skip out on Nicoâs wedding.â The boys laugh, even Luke. Her eyes fall on the youngest of the Hughes boys. âAnd how are you, baby Hughes? Still settling in well with the team?â
Luke nods with a smile. âThe guys have been very welcoming,â he tells her. âHelped me out of that slump I was in.â
She mirrors his smile. âThatâs great,â she says. âGlad you were able to come in and get right to it. Being a Calder nominee isnât an easy feat so I wanted to come congratulate you on your rookie season.â
âThank you.â
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jack. He stands with Dougie, Dawsy, Haula, and Nico. Mia stands with her arm hooked with her new husbandâs.
Luke, Dawson, and Nemec all walk away to get another drink. Jesper stands next to her. âHow many times have you been told to talk to him?â Bratter asks.
âToo many so please donât-â
âIâm not. I was just going to offer to go get him if you did want to talk to him.â
She sighs and finishes her glass of champagne. âI want to talk to him but do you really think heâll listen to me if I apologize?â she comments.
âI do,â Bratter replies. She looks up at him. âI mean it. He has been kicking himself for months. I know he misses you. I donât know if he misses your relationship or just you in his life but he misses you. I think talking to him is worth it.â
She turns her head to look at Jack. He looks happy and she doesnât want to ruin that. âWhat if I just upset him?â she questions. âI donât want to ruin his happiness.â
âHeâs not truly happy without you,â Jesper says. âTalk to him. I think heâll listen to what you have to say. Maybe he will even offer his own apology to you. Iâll be right back.â
Then he walks away. She watches him walk up to Jack and say something to him. She stands straight up and sighs when Jack looks over at her. She puts a smile on her face and heads over to the group.
Itâs now or never. Itâs early in the evening so neither of them are drunk yet. Sheâs had just enough alcohol to give her the courage to have this conversation with Jack.
All eyes are on her, but her eyes are on Jack. âHi,â she breathes out. âCan we talk for a second? Please? Alone?â
Jack nods and hands his drink to Dougie. She shoots a smiling Nico a glare as she turns and walks inside so theyâre away from the prying eyes of Jackâs teammates and her mutual friends that she has with Nico. Theyâre all very nosy.
She finds a little room off to the side that she walks into with a sigh. She picks at the skin around her fingernails out of nerves.
This is truly it. The next few minutes are either going to make or break whatever relationship or friendship they have left. She bites the inside of her cheek as she turns and faces Jack.
âWhat did you want to-â Jack begins to say before she interrupts him.
âI want to apologize,â she quickly replies. âFor that night. For ignoring all your calls and texts after. I shouldnât have given you that ultimatum. Not at that moment, anyway. I caused you emotional pain while you were in so much physical pain.â
Jackâs face falls into a frown as she talks. He starts to shake his head the longer she talks. âNo, you had every right to give me that ultimatum,â he tells her. âI pushed myself way too hard and losing you opened my eyes to just how hard I was pushing myself. To what I was putting my body through. I didnât understand why at first but now I do. Iâm sorry that I saw that too late.â
Tears form in her eyes at the softness of his voice. She wasnât expecting this Jack when she talked to him.
âI thought youâd be mad,â she admits. âI thought youâd want to yell at me for walking away. For ending it.â
âI was mad,â Jack says. âBelieve me. I was so mad that I pushed myself even harder for a few weeks. Then there was setback after setback and I finally understood why.â
The tears that formed in her eyes roll down her cheeks, painting her skin black with eyeliner. She shouldâve grabbed her waterproof eyeliner but she didnât.
She stares across the room at her ex. Neither of them say a word for a second, before she asks the question she has wanted to know the answer to for nearly six months.
âWhy did you do it?â she asks. âWhy did you have to push yourself so hard and risk long term damage? Donât tell me itâs because you love hockey and put your all into the sport. You shouldnât have to push yourself to the point of surgery.â
Jack looks down at his feet and she raises her eyebrows. She presses her lips in a tight line as she waits for him to respond.
The answer she gets is not the one she was ready for.
âI thought that no one would care about me or love me if I wasnât playing hockey,â Jack mumbles. âAll anyone has talked about this season is me and my brothers. Hughes Bowl, me getting to 100 points after hitting 99 last season, whatever about me and Luke playing together. It seemed like no one would give a shit about me if I had stopped mid-season to heal. It seemed like everyone would write me off as weak or get mad at me for taking care of my shoulder. So I pushed you away and pushed myself to play until we got eliminated from contention so no one could blame me for missing playoffs. I didnât want to be the reason we missed playoffs, but it feels like I am anyway.â
She frowns at his response. She had no idea that he felt this way.
Thereâs some space between them so she takes a few steps forward so she stands in front of him. âYou could have talked to me,â she softly tells him. âI was willing to support you through whatever you needed to do to be healthy. Yet you seemed to care more about hockey than me.â
He lifts his head up and thatâs when she sees the tears in his eyes. She pouts at the sight.
âI didnât want you to see me at my lowest, and Iâm sorry for pushing you away,â Jack comments. âI love you and I didnât want you to see that side of me. I love you more than I have ever loved hockey. I shouldâve listened to you when you told me to rest and I didnât. I should have.â He pauses for a second and meets her eyes. âI never should have let you walk out that door.â
She reaches up to dry his cheeks when the tears begin to roll. âYou know that everyone would still love and care about you if you had just pressed pause on the season,â she tells him. âEveryone that loves you wouldâve supported you if you just let your body heal. No one likes seeing a player push himself to surgery. I would have stayed and helped you instead of loving and supporting you from afar.â
Jack leans down and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed and her hands rest on his jaw. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones and her eyes remain on his face.
âIâm sorry,â Jack softly says.
âIâm sorry for walking out on you when you needed me,â she tells him. âI kicked you when you were down and it wasnât fair of me to do that to you. Iâm sorry I broke your heart.â
He wraps his hands around her wrists before he pulls them down so he can lace their fingers together. He doesnât pull his forehead away and she doesnât move either.
âYou never broke my heart,â he whispers to her. âI broke yours by choosing hockey over you. I never wanted you to feel like I loved a sport more than you and thatâs what I did. Itâs my fault.â
She shakes her head and pulls back. Jackâs eyes open and he looks at her. His blue eyes shine with tears. âEven after everything, I still love you,â she admits. âI donât believe that you can break my heart, Jack Hughes.â
He lets out a light laugh and shakes his head. âSame for you,â he tells her.
A small smile forms on her lips as she looks up at him. He lets one of her hands go to wipe away her tears. His thumb comes away black and he wipes her eyeliner on his black pants.
âCan I get a redo?â Jack asks. âOn that ultimatum that you gave me? I have an answer for you.â
She bites the inside of her cheek before she asks in reply, âIs it going to be me? Or is it going to be your career?â
âItâs you, baby,â Jack instantly replies as he lifts his hand to cup her jaw. âItâll always be you.â
The smile on her face grows. She licks her bottom lip as he pulls her in for a soft kiss. She hesitates for a second before she returns the kiss.
Jack drops her other hand so he can cup the other side of her jaw. Her fingers grasp at his open suit jacket so he canât get too far. She wraps her arms around his torso under his jacket.
He takes a few steps forward so her back is pressed against a wall. She gasps as soon as her back hits the cool, smooth surface, but she doesnât break the kiss. Jack leans down into her to deepen the already deep kiss. She presses herself flush against him.
His hands slide down to her waist before they slip behind her back. She feels his fingers graze the zipper and thatâs when she pulls back. âJack,â she sighs. âNot now.â
âLater though?â
âWeâll see,â she replies. âI think we should go back out. Iâm sure Nicoâs looking for us.â
Jack takes a few steps back to fix himself. She takes the moment to make sure sheâs presentable as well.
With a sigh, she grabs Jackâs hand and they leave the room. Their fingers are laced together as they rejoin the reception. âSo, how are we going to explain this to our friends?â Jack asks.
âWeâll just tell them that we got our heads out of our asses and apologized to each other,â she replies. âThat we still love each other. I think saying goodbye gave us a second chance to do this the right way.â
They turn a corner and find themselves back on the roof with the rest of the party. âIt did,â Jack says. She looks up at him. âAre you my girlfriend again? Or do I have to get down on my knees to beg you like I did the first time?â
She shakes her head with a laugh. âIâd like to see you get on your knees for a different reason so yes, I guess Iâm youâre girlfriend again,â she tells him.
Jack presses a quick kiss to her lips, but every single one of their friends has already noticed.
âAbout damn time!â Nico shouts from across the room. A few of the Devils cheer for them and she steps even closer to her boyfriend.
àŒșââââââââââââââââàŒ»
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hi!! I have a spencer reid x fem!reader request, how about emily plotline but it's spencer instead of emily and reader totally falls apart after she thinks he died, to the point of self-destructive behaviors. she simply can't cope. i totally understand if you're not comfortable with writing something like that, though.
i hope you're having a great day <3
Beyond the Grave - S.R
a/n: angellllll thank you so much for requesting !!!!!! <3 i hope you have the BEST day ever!
masterlist
â§âË â©Â°ïœĄâ⥠âËâĄâĄ âËâĄâĄâïœĄÂ°â©Ëââ§
pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: angst, spencer dead for a hot sec then he's not, reader using alcohol to cope, weight loss briefly mentioned, unhealthy coping methods, happy ending!
wc: 1.7k
The knocks were there again, a stubborn sound you chose to ignore as you smothered yourself with your pillow. You willed yourself to drown out the noise and fall back asleep, to forget that your existence now had shrunk to the four corners of your mattress--a fact that didn't necessarily bring you any pride.
When it first happened, you were in a constant state of disbelief. The harsh truth that Spencer had died, leaving a void that you were powerless to fill, seemed to a cruel joke. You found yourself caught in an endless loop of denial, half-expecting him to stroll through the door or wake up to the realization that this was all just a bad dream.
But that never happened so you spent your days imprisoned in your own home, a shell of your former self, devoid of anything that once animated your being. You distanced yourself from everything that once brought you happiness--your family, your friends, your gardening.
You had just introduced Spencer to it a couple months before it happened--when to plant each flower, how to prepare the soil, the schedule of watering. But now it all felt very meaningless, and the once-tended garden became a forgotten space, overgrown and disregarded.
Each morning at work, you were met with a twisting, angry sickness--a gnawing reaction to the collective failure of everyone in that room. You had all let him down, and now the weight of never seeing his smile again was a blade that kept twisting deeper. It was excruciating.
The blow landed on you with a severity that others seemed spared from. You couldn't simply erase the memory and move on. It wasn't an option; it was etched into your very being, monopolizing every thought and sensation.
The team had attempted to piece you back together, but eventually, their help felt like a stabbing reminder. You were beyond repair, a lost cause--you skipped meals, you never slept, you drank too much. With every look in the mirror, you saw the reflection of someone slowly crumbling away.Â
Finally, you were angry, a scalding feeling that spread through your veins. You were furious at Spencer leaving you, at the unsub for taking him away, and at yourself for failing to save him, for arriving too late, for watching him struggle against the knife, for watching him disappear into surgery and not come out.
The incessant knocking persisted, an annoyance that finally drew you from your bed. Your limbs were heavy with sleep, a thick haze still clouding your mind. You dragged yourself toward the door, a string of mental curses directed at the uncivilized disturber--likely Penelope with her usual invites for a girl's night out.
But as you swung the door open, the familiar world upended itself, flipped around, and splatted to the bottom of the universe. Dryness clung to your throat, your hands rendered numb at your sides.
And there he was--Spencer, not a ghost, not a figment conjured by your overwrought imagination, but flesh and blood--alive. You fought the urge to pinch yourself. You questioned your sanity briefly, but those eyes--his eyes--were indelibly seared in your memory. You would know them anywhere.
You can't breathe, can't form coherent thoughts. This moment is the very one you've replayed in your dreams, a thousand different ways, and now that it's tangibly here, you can't breathe.
Spencer's heart squeezed at the sight of you. Your eyes were swollen and tinged with the redness as if you'd been crying or just woken up or both. Your hair was shorter than he remembered, ending just shy above your shoulders. You face was washed and hollowed out; the color sapped away as if the sun had become a stranger to you.
"Hey," his voice floated to you, soft as though he was worried you might vanish at any louder sound.
A hesitant hand reached out, trembling as if half-expecting it to pass right through him. But when your fingers brushed against his--solid and warm--reality intensified to an almost unbearable degree, too visceral to be anything but real.Â
"B-But you're dead," you choke out, a tremor in each syllable. Your fingers find their way to your lips, the ground seeming to spin in a disorienting whirl. "Spencer, I watched you die."
"Can I come in?"
He didn't wait for an answer, stepping around you into the room. His eyes swept over the cluttered space--the litter of empty alcohol bottles, the stacks of dirt dishes. His heart plummeted, a sinking stone to the pit of his stomach.
One of the first things he noticed about you was your near-compulsive need for keeping things clean, orderly. Your desk had been organized to an almost surgical degree, and Morgan took a secret pleasure in disrupting your system, shifting your pens just to get a reaction. But Spencer had memorized the exact coordinates of your things and discreetly corrected each item before you could notice.
So, this, the sight of your neglected home was something he never thought he'd see.
"Maybe we should sit?" Spencer suggested, more firmly. "I have explanations for everything."
With a nod, you make you way to the couch. His gaze lingers on you, taking in the way the clothes that once hugged you, now draped over your frame in loose folds. He noted the strained swallow, the constant bobbing of your knee, and the startled wideness in your eyes, as if you weren't really sure how to process the sudden influx of information.
He told you everything--why he faked his death, what he had been doing this whole time, why it wasn't Hotch's fault for keeping it from you, and why you had to be kept in the dark.Â
His expectations hadn't included you jumping up and down at the sight of him, but the coldness he encountered caught him off guard. Brows knitted downward, knees angled away as if his presence was unbearable, you offered no words when he spoke, an occasional vacant look washing over your features.
"Did you even think of me once, or was I out of sight, out of mind?"
The words surprised him, your tone casual, but your balled fists resting on your knees betrayed you.
"I never stopped thinking of you," Spencer's response was immediate, his hand reaching towards yours.
But you recoiled immediately, shaking your head.
"No, no," you stammered out, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to speak. "You can't just...leave me and come back and act as if... as if...it's all okay."
Your voice broke with every word and so did his heart.
With a quick motion, you're on your feet, nearly tripping over the disorder that's invaded your space. Spencer's instinct is to reach out, to steady you, but he knows better.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, standing to follow your movements. "I didn't have a choice. Believe me, if there was any other way, I'd never have left. I couldn't--"
He paused, a hand brushing through his hair as he blew out a breath.
"But that's just it, Spencer, I don't believe you," you snap, voice trembling with indignation. "You were my best friend, the one person I relied on, and you disappeared."
He started to speak, but you took a step back holding your hand out to stop him.Â
"No, you died Spencer. I went to your funeral. I stood over your grave, and now you're here." Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you turned away, hiding your face. "How can you just stand there after all of that?"
Spencer moves closer. "You're being unfair," he says cornering you against the wall. "Why are you being like this?"
His eyes search yours, probing for an explanation, and you give it to him, raw and unfiltered.
"Why am I being like this? Maybe because I'm in love with you."
Spencer's steps falter, retreating as if struck.Â
"Oh, come on, don't act so surprised," you blurt out, already wishing you could take back the words. "I know you know." You're rambling now. "I mean, in team briefings I always save you a seat, in meetings I'm always the first one to back your theories, and for crying out loud I got you a copy of the first edition of On the Origin of Species by Darwin for your birthday, like do you know how hard that was to find? What platonic friend would--"
Your admissions pour out unchecked until Spencer's hands are on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours, stopping the flow of your confessions.Â
Your breath hitches, a startled sound muffled by Spencer's mouth, a rush of surprise coursing through you. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, but as quickly as it comes, it fades into a warmth that blooms deep in your chest, and you're kissing him back with a desperation that matches the pounding of your heart.Â
The world narrows down to the sweet pressure of his mouth moving with careful ease against yours, your hands finding their way to his hair, tangling with the soft strands as you melt into him.Â
You pull back just enough to see his eyes, your breaths mingling, foreheads still touching, softly panting.Â
"I'm still so upset with you," you whisper, your eyes glistening.Â
Spencer's hands are soft on your skin, brushing away the tear. "I know. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
You nibble on your lower lip and give a small nod. Spencer responds by wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer. "Promise?" you ask, heart in your throat. "I don't want you to leave me again."
You had never felt so vulnerable.Â
"Promise," he replies. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."
You let out a shaky breath, the reality of his words setting in. In a moment of boldness, you reach up to trace the lines of his face, memorizing every detail.Â
Spencer's eyes soften, and he whispers, "By the way, I love you too. From the very first moment I saw you."
It's like a key turning a lock. You don't say anything, you don't need to. The silence is enough--the quiet understanding that you'll heal, you'll grow, just like the garden waiting for your return.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fic
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you think i'm gone 'cause i left - anakin skywalker/darth vader x fem!jedi!reader (part 1 of 3)
summary: After failing to save you from a painful death, Darth Vader remembers his past with you and realizes why he can never completely leave Anakin Skywalker behind.
warnings: angst, no use of y/n, reconstructive surgery, blood, mentions of major character death (or not who knows), darth vader is his own warning
word count: 3.8k
a/n: First of all, I must say that English is not my native language. Also this is my first x reader format fanfiction. I'm pretty sure I made some mistakes but I hope you don't mind guys. I am always open to your suggestions âĄ
part 2
Darth Vader, the master of the dark side of the Force, the legendary lord of the Sith, the tyrannical leader who terrorized the galaxy, remembered very well the moment when he swore to dedicate his worthless life to Lord Sidious, his lord and savior.
While his body, burned and torn apart by the lava, was trying to be fixed by the health droids, he was writhing in despair and moaning in a painful voice. The wave of pain spreading from his lungs to the rest of his body with each breath showed him a type of physical pain he had never experienced before, and even the cold metal hands touching his burned skin were insufficient to alleviate his pain.
"He should be unconscious by now," he heard a distant and very deep robotic voice, which he thought belonged to one of the medical droids. Yes, the pain he felt at that moment would be enough to kill another human being and maybe even drive them insane, and God knows that's what Anakin wanted with all his heart as he lay on the operating table screaming. But how could this be possible when he sees your lifeless body over and over again every time he closes his eyes?
In fact, he had calculated all the possibilities down to the smallest detail while making his plan. There was no war he wouldn't fight, no enemy he wouldn't face to create a future that included you. He was ready to turn his back on the entire galaxy just to see you smile one more time. Moreover, Palpatine had made a promise to him. He said that contrary to popular belief, it was possible to resist death and that he knew how to do it, and that he would help Anakin in trying to save you. All he had to do was accompany him to the dark side. Anakin had done everything he was told. He had given up on who he was, accepted the name his new master had given him, brutally executed separatist leaders, and led thousands of clone troopers in attacking the Jedi Temple he once called home. Even killing those little children who looked at him with admiration with the lightsaber they saw as a symbol of peace was not important to him. Of course, he wasn't proud of himself for betraying what he believed in in his past, but he also knew that what he did was a small price to pay to save you. So why didn't what he did work? Why couldn't he prevent the scene he had seen many times in his nightmares from happening?
He gripped the operating table tightly with his mechanical hand and mumbled your name in a voice only he could hear. He kept saying your name over and over again, as if he was drawing strength from you, as if you could come and save him if he said it enough times.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to focus on something other than your pained facial expression and bloodied body. If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to rise up and take revenge for what was done to you, he had to find a way to endure the pain he suffered, and what was there in this life that gave him as much strength as you? He tried desperately to remember the moment you first met.
Nearly a month had passed since Qui Gon Jinn's death, and during this time his new master Obi Wan Kenobi had begun training him to become a Jedi. He was grateful for the opportunity given to him and did not want to be ungrateful. However, there were so many moments during his training that he despaired and wanted to return to Tatooine... First of all, Obi Wan Kenobi was not the person he imagined. Yes, it was an undeniable fact that he was a powerful Jedi. He was also smart, very smart. Anakin knew there was a lot of thing he could learn from him. However, it hadn't been long since he had ended his life as a padawan and Obi Wan had obviously not yet fully figured out how to be a good master for his young student. There was no distance or formality between them that there should be between a padawan and a master. They were more like two brothers who fought often. Obi Wan was pushing Anakin very hard to teach him basic things as soon as possible, and Anakin was always managing to drive Obi Wan crazy with his smarty-pants attitude.
He could also sense how the younglings at the temple felt about him as he began to learn how to use the force. Although none of them were directly mistreating him or making a rude remark, Anakin would sometimes catch their gaze. There was displeasure in those looks, obviously his presence disturbed them. A child who appears unexpectedly becomes a padawan without training in the temple and becomes the center of attention of the entire Jedi council... The other younglings must have felt unfair. But one day, he met a young girl who looked at him differently than others: You.
With your bright smile that could light up the whole galaxy and your compassionate gaze, you extended your hand to him and introduced yourself, telling him that he could always come to you if he needed anything. They said you were 9 years old like him, but it was so hard for him to believe it.
You were different from all the other children Anakin had met at the temple, with your confident demeanor and room-filling presence. Your surprisingly mature attitude and wisdom gave those who saw you the impression that you never made mistakes and that you always knew what was right, causing them to respect you.
Moreover, you were beautiful, very beautiful. Even your messy hair waving in the wind, your face dripping with sweat, and your loose-fitting uniform couldn't prevent Anakin from seeing this beauty. When his eyes met your beautiful, understanding eyes, he immediately looked away and wanted to run away. There was no doubt that you were the angel the pilots who came to Tatooine were talking about. However, he could not find the courage in his heart to admit this to himself or to tell you. He felt so small, so helpless in front of the being that he wanted to get away from it as soon as possible and think about what this warm feeling that filled his heart that he had never felt before was.
Yes, he wanted to run away from you when your eyes met. But ironically, this was the first time he didn't want to return to Tatooine to his mother.
For the 3 years after you met, you had no communication other than chance encounters at the temple and furtive glances at each other. Even a life form without eyes could easily understand that you wanted to be closer to each other, but you had neither the time nor the courage to do so. You were very busy with your studies. In the future, you wanted to be a female Jedi as respected as Shaak Ti, or even more so, and you were working very hard to achieve your goal. Anakin, on the other hand, began to go on missions given by the council with Obi Wan, and the difficulty of these missions was increasing. You were so close to Anakin, yet he felt like you were hundreds of light years away from him. You were unreachable to him.
Anakin heard that you were accepted as a padawan by Plo Koon when you turned 13. According to rumors in the temple, the Jedi knight from Dorin noticed your great potential and volunteered to train you. Maybe you weren't as good at using a lightsaber as the other padawans, you might not have been as strong or as durable, but you were smart, very smart. Your dangerously high intelligence level, combined with your composure, easily compensated for your other weaknesses, making you a promising Jedi knight candidate. Even the council had high hopes for you. That's why they didn't interfere with Plo Koon's training style and allowed him to take you out early on missions that could be considered at least partially dangerous.
It was thanks to one of these missions that you came together again. The Senate thought that a small newly established weapons factory on one of the republic's planets was making some irregularities and put pressure on the Jedi to resolve this situation. The council assigned you and Plo Koon to inspect this factory.
It didn't sound that difficult, actually. You would make a short journey to reach the planet in question, tour the factory, talk to the engineers, examine some documents and intimidate the managers.
What could go wrong with such a simple task? To be honest, you weren't known for being lucky, and as usual, trouble had found you.
Anakin and Obi-Wan didn't even need to contact Plo Koon to realize that the Senate was right about the factory producing weapons for Mandolorian terrorists. Less than a day after you arrived on the planet, you reached the council and reported that the factory was completely abandoned, saying that you were trapped and surrounded by thousands of droids and asked for help. The council also assigned Obi Wan and Anakin, who had returned from a mission to a nearby planet, to support Plo Koon and you. Anakin still remembered Mace Windu's explanation word by word when he explained the urgency of your situation to his master Obi-Wan. And how those words filled his little heart with fear.
"You must reach the weapons factory as soon as possible, Master Kenobi." Mace Windu said in a stern tone. "Or it might be too late to save them."
Even if these words had not been spoken, the more serious expression than ever on Mace Windu's face would have been more than enough for even the most primitive creature in the galaxy to understand the situation.
As the spaceship they were on made a sudden return to your planet by order of his master, Anakin was wondering why he was so worried about a girl he had only talked to a few times. While he could keep his cool even during missions where his own life was threatened, why did the idea of ââyou in pain make his heart beat faster and his head spin? He was trying to breathe to calm down, but even his breathing was so irregular that Obi Wan felt the need to turn to him and reassure him that everything was okay. How could Anakin explain to his master that he was afraid for you, not himself? Would he understand if he told him?
While the young padawan was in these thoughts, the ship entered the atmosphere with a sudden jolt and landed near the factory. As the deafening noise of explosions and droid weapons filled his ears, he got off the ship and started running without waiting for his master's command. He could hear Obi-Wan calling to him to stop, but he didn't have the time or patience to wait. This was not a scene they were unfamiliar with anyway. When all this nonsense was over, he would happily hear Obi Wan's scolding and humbly accept his punishment, but right now wasn't the right time to think about that. The only thing that mattered at that moment was saving you, and he was going to do it no matter what it took. Because it was his heart, not his brain, that told him to do this, and Anakin was not mature enough to resist his heart. With a swift move, he pulled out his lightsaber and sliced ââthe first droid he encountered in half.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps mixing with the sounds of the battle droids, he realized how close he was to them, but he didn't even slow down for fear of being late for you. He was destroying all the war machines in front of him, clearing the way and moving towards the direction where he sensed your presence.
When he and his master, who finally managed to catch up with him, arrived at the production facility where you were fighting the droids, he started looking around for you, without even bothering to check how Plo Koon was doing. Plo Koon was one of the most powerful Jedi, someone like him could survive without the help of a padawan, but not you. He could feel with all his being that you needed help, but no matter how much he looked around, he couldn't see you.
While Anakin was looking around the burning production facility to find you, he saw two silhouettes in the smoke. One of these silhouettes, the one leaning on the ground and cowering against a wall, belonged to a young girl. The other was the silhouette of an armed droid, as tall as a human but as skinny as a skeleton. Moreover, this droid's gun was pointed at you and was about to be fired. Anakin knew his feelings were not wrong. You were in a difficult situation and needed his help.
He was sure that he wanted to run towards you, save you by smashing that droid into thousands of pieces, and then kick its ugly metal head and throw it to the farthest corner of the galaxy. But he knew he didn't have time for that. So he did something even he didn't expect and threw his lightsaber towards you, hoping you could catch it in time. He knew that this move was madness. What kind of maniac would give up the only weapon he had among thousands of battle droids and leave himself defenseless? Especially if he doesn't know the other person well?
But Anakin had never regretted what he had done, not even for a moment. He saw you pull the thrown lightsaber with force and catch it, then slice the droid in half before he could fire to you. Yes, you were safe, but that safety was only for a brief moment. He had no time to relax, otherwise he knew you would be open to attacks from other droids. Without wasting any time, he followed the green lightsaber shining among the smoke and reached him. You were finally in front of him.
To be honest, your situation wasn't looking so bright. You were seriously injured and your body was covered in blood. Anakin had knelt down next to you and gently held your face between his fingers, afraid of hurting you even more. He could feel the warm drops of blood running down your face, flowing from his fingers to his wrists, but he didn't care about anything other than your safety at that moment. "Are you okay?" he asked, trying to hide how worried he was. Just by looking into your eyes, he could see how much the conflict you were experiencing had worn you out, but you put on a brave and determined expression and nodded, trying not to let the pain you were feeling reflected in your voice, "I'm fine." you muttered. "I'm fine, but I think my legs are stuck and I can't move them."
"Don't be afraid, I'll find a way to get you out of here."
He could see a shattering mass of metal pinning your legs. He took the lightsaber from your hand, carefully opened it, and held it up to the metal plate. "I'll try not to cut off your legs," he said, trying to smile to calm you down, and then added. "At least one of them."
You must have liked Anakin's little joke, too, because your lips turned slightly to the side despite your helpless situation. "Don't worry." you said, laughing. "They will break off on their own anyway, even if you don't cut them."
After receiving a sarcastic approval from you, he began to cut and separate the metal pieces with great patience. He made every move carefully and attentively, afraid of hurting you. When your legs were finally free, he took a deep breath and looked at your face again.
"It's not safe here. We have to get out of here."
"But my master is still fighting." Even though you tried to object, Anakin did not accept it. "He can take care of himself, and the support sent by the council is on the way."
His tone and expression were so determined that you gave up and surrendered to Anakin. You didn't have the strength to resist even if you wanted to. He wrapped his arms tightly around your body, stood up and started walking towards the factory exit. To be honest, you were a little heavier than you looked, and your blood was staining his clothes, but as long as you could rest your head on his chest and he could feel the warmth of your body, nothing else mattered.
Your next meeting was in the infirmary at the Jedi temple. 3 days had passed after your unfortunate duty at the factory and you had just regained your consciousness. During this time, Anakin began to help Jocasta Nu in the archives, upon his master's orders. It could not be said that he was very happy with his situation, but he still considered himself lucky that the punishment for his disobedience during duty was so small. Besides, even though organizing the archives was a tedious task, it kept his mind busy, and he definitely needed it.
Every moment he wasn't busy with something, he was thinking about you and what happened at the factory that day and trying to make sense of what he was feeling. That strange feeling that he thought he had forgotten years ago was back. Why did his heart beat faster and his face turn red every time he thought of you? Were these normal? His master had told him that a Jedi should not become attached to anything, but he should also be compassionate. Anakin could not understand this contrast. He was also afraid of being attached to you. But this was very illogical. Could one person become so attached to another person in such a short time? All these questions confused little Anakin more than ever. Finally, he realized that he could not bear these questions any longer and decided to visit you in the infirmary at the end of the 3rd day. Besides, he also had something that belonged to you, and he had to return it to you as soon as possible.
When he came to you, he saw that you were much more cheerful than he expected. You still looked very weak and you were obviously going to be in the infirmary for a while longer. Still, without letting this demoralize you, you were patiently waiting for your recovery, and in the meantime, you were trying to pass the time by reading the war history texts you took from the archive.
Still, you smiled so widely when you saw Anakin that he was convinced you were glad to see him, too. Trying to suppress the uncomfortable feeling he felt in his stomach, he put on a confident expression and quickly walked over and sat on your bed.
"You look better." he said with the light of hope appearing in his eyes.
You smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Anakin." you said. "I feel better too."
After a brief hesitation, he pulled a lightsaber from under his cloak and handed it to you, "I think this is yours." he said. "I found it at the factory."
Just seeing the familiar blue color of the lightsaber brought peace to your soul. You happily took the saber from Anakin's hand and began to examine it. "God, thank you so much Anakin. I thought I had lost it."
"My master always tells me that the lightsaber is a Jedi's life and they must protect it at all costs."
Even though you lost your lightsaber for reasons beyond your control, what Anakin said made you a little embarrassed. "Of course, I'm not trying to justify my irresponsibility, but what happened that day was unexpected. I must have dropped it during that chaos."
"To be honest, I've lost my lightsaber too many times."
The confession of the padawan in front of you made you smile a little. Actually, what you should have done was to politely thank Anakin for saving your life, and when the time comes, pay him back at all costs. However, owing your life to him placed such a heavy burden on your shoulders that you felt crushed under this weight, no matter how humble the attitude of the boy in front of you. Before you even thought, the words were coming out of your mouth. "Master Kenobi says that our lightsaber is our life, right? So, according to the master's logic, you entrusted your life to me in the factory, and you also saved mine by finding my lightsaber."
Anakin looked at you in surprise, not knowing what to say at your words. Yes, your reasoning based on his master's words was correct, however, he did not expect you to approach the subject from this perspective. Fortunately, you continued talking without a long pause, and he was spared the trouble of finding an answer to give you.
"I am grateful to you for saving my life, Anakin, and I swear that one day I will repay you. Please give me your lightsaber until that day, and you can take mine."
"So you want us to surrender our lives to each other?" Anakin asked with mixed emotions. Wouldn't this agreement create a commitment between you? Anakin could not comprehend the depth of this devotion.
You nodded decisively in response. "Yes. So we can remember this promise between us for the rest of our lives. These sabers we exchanged will be a symbol of our friendship and trust in each other, and one day I will repay my debt to you. Until then, I want to remember the promise I made to you every time I look at your saber."
Then you added timidly, "If you want too, of course."
Anakin thought for a few seconds, then without a word, he handed you his lightsaber and accepted this pact that would bind your hearts and bodies together forever. Thus, a very special bond was formed between you that will never be broken again. Who knew that this innocent bond established between two children would one day bring disaster to the galaxy...
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