#i love how quickly the doctor turns to her and takes her seriously. i love that her question is immediately validated. i love her.

[quietwingsinthesky]

can we talk about the meep’s pronouns moment in the star beast again? i want to talk about the way it’s set up. in any other show, this would have been a joke. it would have been, “oh, look at this trans person getting so up in arms about the doctor assuming this alien’s pronouns. isn’t that an insane thing to care about?” and then that would be where it ended, the entire point being that asking for pronouns is ridiculous, that a trans person pointing it out is ridiculous, and we should be laughing at Rose for bringing it up.

but. it’s not. Rose says, “You’re assuming he as a pronoun?” in a tone of voice that, to me, at least, reads as someone who has been in this situation many, many times before and been laughed at for caring. who has been the butt of that joke. who starts this dialogue off from a defensive position because every time before she’s ever asked in earnest, she’s been shut down.

and then the Doctor says, “True. Yes. Sorry. Good point. Are you he or she or they?” The Doctor acknowledges Rose’s point, apologizes for glossing over it, and makes an effort to ask. Hell, the moment is even used to set up the Doctor connecting to the Meep more like he will when the Meep mentions having two hearts; they both share “the” as a pronoun as a pronoun.

(and I’m reading through the transcript right now to check, but as far as I can tell, yeah. The Doctor does then use “The Meep” to refer to the Meep for the rest of the episode, not any other pronoun.)

It’s a very brief moment, but it feels intentionally made to invoke those jokes, to take them and say, ‘no, why would this be a joke, we’ll take it seriously.’ Expectations subverted brilliantly. The Doctor says trans rights.

[pitchsidestories]

never judge a book by it's cover II Beth Mead x Vivianne Miedema x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1321

a/n: dear readers, this pairing was quite a requested one, so we hope we've met your expectations. 💗💗

warning: mentions of injuries, but despite that topic a whole lot of wholesomeness and fluff. <3

“Beth, Viv tried to call us.”, you noticed concerned after you looked at your phone. A few minutes ago, Renee ended the training, and the Arsenal team felt more optimistic than it had in recent times.

“She did? Weird, she knows we had training. And she hates calls.”, Beth frowned.

“Yes, it must be important.”, you replied before playing the voice mail your other girlfriend had left. Viviannes frustrated and sad voice filled the changing room. It was in stark contrast to the current joyful and happy atmosphere.

“Hi girls. I know you’re busy. Just wanted to let you know that the team doctor checked on my knee again and it doesn’t seem to get better. I’m off to do some more scans now but he said another surgery might be inevitable. They want to operate as soon as possible. No big deal, just wanted to let you know. Enjoy your training.”

“Oh no, poor Vivi. Love, you know what that means, right?”, the blonde sighed heavily.  

“Yes, of course.”, you told her. Clearing your throat, you turned around to face one of your Australian teammates. “Uhm Steph, sorry, we can’t go on our usual coffee walk with the dogs later. Beth and I need to drive to Manchester because Viv needs us right now.”

“Sure. Everything, okay?”, Steph asked alarmed.

“No, Viv puts her brave face on, but she likely has to go through a surgery again.”, you explained with a heavy heart.

“Tell her we’re all thinking of her.”, she responded empathetically.

“Okay, we’ll.”, you promised her.

“See you soon, Steph.”, Beth waved at one of her best friends.

“Bye girls, take care.”, Steph replied.

Your girlfriend and you didn’t waste time, you quickly got everything you needed for your lover and when drove all the way up to the North in a bit over four hours.

Both your hearts pounded hard against your chests, once you rang at Vivianne’s appartement door in Manchester and waited for her to open it. You couldn’t know in which state you’d find her.

“What are you two doing here?!”, the Dutch woman exclaimed surprised while kneeing down despite the pain to hug the dog who wiggled her tail excitedly, clearly thrilled to see her again.

“Looking after you!”, you answered patiently.

“I can handle that I did it before.”, Vivianne clarified as the brunette slowly stood up again.

“Yes, but you don’t have to handle it alone.”, Beth reminded her softly, wrapping her arms around the taller forward.

“Exactly, we’ll be there for you if you like it or not.”, you added, joining their hug, turning the Dutch’s footballer’s cheeks into a soft pink.

“You didn’t have to come.”, Vivianne stated seriously.

“But we wanted to, you stubborn woman.“, Beth huffed with annoyance but her eyes softened at the sight of her girlfriend.

Vivs eyebrows knotted together: “Who are you calling stubborn? You didn’t even call back to ask how the scans went. You just packed your stuff and drove here!“

You shrugged, trying to calm the situation with an innocent smile: “We just knew that we had to be here.“

With that, you marched past her into her living room that you had helped decorate a few months ago.

Vivianne shook her head: “You’re two idiots.“

“Yeah but we’re your idiots.“, Beth smiled and gently bumped shoulders with her as they followed you.

“Yeah, you are.“, Vivianne confirmed with the hint of a laugh in her voice.

You stopped in front of the sofa and started to unpack the bags you and Beth had packed earlier.

“Plus, we got Myle, your favourite snacks and the new book from that author you love. So basically everything you need to start your recovery.“, you told her.

A bit overwhelmed, Vivianne took in the pile of sweets you created on the coffee table. It took a few seconds until she spoke again: “That’s sweet of you.“

“You’re welcome, Viv. So, what’s next for you?“, you asked, sitting down on her sofa.

“For one, it’s surgery and then rehab again.“, she sighed as she sat down next to you.

Beth calmingly laid a hand on Vivs thigh: “When is the date for the surgery?“

“In a few days so you can’t stay here for that.“

As soon as she had finished, Beth and you looked at each other with silent understanding.

You frowned: “You don’t want us to be here for the surgery?“

“You have training.“, the dutch player replied like the answer should have been obvious. And maybe it should have been. But not when Beth and you were determined to be there for your girlfriend.

“Yes but Renee would understand if we would skip one.“, Beth argued which was met with a determined shake of Vivs head. “But I don’t want you to pause your lives for me.“

You barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at her typical stubbornness: “It’s not on pause because you are an important part of our lives.“

She considered you for a moment, silently.

“Yes, everyone would understand.“, Beth nodded to emphasize your point.

Another short break until Vivianne finally admitted: “To be honest, girls, I’m a little scared…“

Taken aback, you bit your lip. It wasn’t often that your girlfriend was open about her emotions.

Beths hand slipped into Vivs, her gaze softening: “You don’t have to be. We’ll be here for you and support you every step of the way.“

“What if I’m not coming back from this?“

“You’ll. You’re a fighter.”, the blonde said in a tone which left no room for doubt and was full of certainty.

“And you two will be there? I know I can get.”, the Dutch woman started.

Before she could add anything, you interrupted her gently. “Of course we’ll be.”

“Promise.”, Beth continued solemnly.

“Okay, thanks.”, Viv let out a relived sigh.

“Cuddles.”, you offered.

“Okay.”, she agreed with a half-crooked smile and opened her arms for you both to cuddle into one of her sides each.

“Do you feel better?”, the English player wanted to know.

“A lot. But still you shouldn’t have come.”, the Manchester city football player mumbled.

“We’re not starting with that again.”, you groaned.

“Yes, shut up and be happy!”, Beth demanded laughing.

“Let’s read out to each other with Viv’s new book. Beth could you..?”, you suggested.

“Make some special Meado hot chocolate? Absolutely.”, your girlfriend exclaimed thrilled.

“You guys know I hate the attention.”, the Dutch forward pouted.

“We do that’s why we’ll focus on fictional characters now. Can you already smell the hot drink?”, you tried your best to distract her.

“I hope Beth doesn’t burn the milk again.”, Viv looked worried into the direction where the scent of hot chocolate came from.

“Have a little faith in me!”, Beth yelled.

“I do. Usually.”, the forward assured the other striker quickly who returned with three cups of warm beverages.

“Okay, fine. I won’t argue with you.”, Viv laughed.

“The cover is really awful though.”, you commented while flipping through the pages of the newly acquired novel.

“You’re not supposed to read the cover.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“And not judge it by it’s looks?”, you raised an eyebrow at your lover, you knew exactly to what she was alluding to.

From the outside you looked very tough with your tattoos and muscular built. Because of your outward appearance people were quite intimidated by you until they got to know the human behind the looks. There was a soft and gentle side to you other persons were surprised to find.

“Of all people you must know that looks can be misleading.”, Beth reminded you with a wink.

“Can we read now?”, Viv threw in impatiently.

“Sure.”, you chuckled and began to read the first lines of the new book.  While you were aware that the best love story lay right next to you, listening to every word you said.

[just-aake]

Marry Me? Part 2

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary : Different times Natasha asks you to marry her, now if only you would believe that she was actually serious.

Part 1 | Love in Red

Warnings : fluff, light angst, hints of sexual themes

Words : 1455

“Marry me?”

Your feet stumble on the treadmill, startled by Natasha’s unexpected question.

It has been a few days since the doctors discharged you from the medical bay, and now that you’re feeling better, you decided to do some training to regain your strength.

Recovering your composure, you turn off the machine, slowing to a stop before looking to where Natasha was previously training against the punching bag. 

You had offered to hold the bag for her earlier, but she quickly declined and directed you towards the treadmill for a lighter training session instead, citing your still recovering condition.

At the sight of her in her black tank top with a sheen of sweat on her body, you go to take a drink for your suddenly dry throat and stall your response as you try to understand what she meant. 

“Oh, I get it. Is this because of what I said before, during the mission?” 

You remember how you had lightly hit Natasha’s hand and remarked about it during your last moments of consciousness, referencing her previous statement to you when you had uttered those two words to her before.

“Don’t worry about that, Natasha. I know you were just kidding.”

Giving her your usual convincing smile, you begin to gather your things, feeling a little worn out from the training and the painful reminder of the type of relationship you have with her.

You turn towards the exit with a small wave.

“I think I’m going to stop for today. I’ll see you later.”

With your back to her, you miss the way Natasha’s shoulders slump and her hands fall to her sides as she stares at your retreating back in disbelief.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?” 

You let out a slight chuckle in between the bites you are taking.

“Hey, that's my line,” you say jokingly with a slight bittersweet tone, oblivious to the soft look Natasha is giving you.

Your focus is currently on the array of dishes in front of you. The candles and flowers at the center of the table bring a warm and pleasant atmosphere to the dimly lit space around you.

A hand wipes at the corner of your lips with a napkin and offers you a glass of wine, and you take it gratefully, turning to face the redhead.

“Seriously, Natasha, you didn’t have to do all of this and make all of my favorites. It’s not like we’re celebrating anything.”

Natasha shakes her head slightly and lets out a huff of disbelief, but still, her lips quirk up into a fond smile as she listens to you talk about your day.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?”

The words were whispered so softly against your bare shoulder that you almost missed it, distracted by the gentle kisses that followed.

After the time she just spent making you scream her name, your mind is too blissfully dazed to process anything, much less what she just said to you. 

A brief moment of serene silence follows before you suddenly feel her hand move from innocently caressing your hips down across your stomach towards where you know she intends to begin another round.

You tap her lightly in exhaustion, letting her know that you don’t think you can keep going. For some reason, Natasha has been insatiable this night, bringing you to the point of pleasure so many times that you’ve lost track.

Understanding your action, Natasha returns her arm to wrap around you instead, pulling you close to her in a warm embrace.

This feels different. 

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

When you wake up, you are surprised to see Natasha still beside you, instead of the usual empty space, and of course, she is already awake. Her head rests on her hand as she watches you slowly blink yourself awake and give her a confused look.  

“Don’t you have to get to your morning run?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“I’d rather stay here with you.” 

Your heart warms slightly at her words, but you quickly brush off the feeling, knowing better than to get your hopes up. Defaulting to your usual methods of coping during these kinds of situations, you tuck your face against the crook of her neck to hide your expression as you joke against her skin.

“Last night was that good, huh?”

You don’t see Natasha roll her eyes fondly at your teasing or throw her head back with a silent sigh, but you do feel her tighten her arms around you and place a soft kiss on your head.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Marry me?”

Earlier, you received a sudden request for you to join her on the rooftop of the Avengers Compound.

That’s how you found yourself at this point, standing with Natasha under the night sky as she says those two words to you again.

Well, you are standing.

Natasha is on the ground in front of you.

On one knee.

With an elegant little box in her hands.

“Y/n, I’m serious,” she says genuinely.

Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes shift back and forth between Natasha’s earnest face and the beautifully crafted ring in her hand.

Behind you, by the rooftop doorway, you can hear the whispers of the other Avengers watching.

“I think Nat broke her,” Clint says.

“Shush, just give her a minute to respond,” Wanda whispers.

“You know, in Asgard, one must battle other suitors and show their strength before they can propose,” Thor points out.

“I told her. She should have just used my drones,” Tony remarks. 

“This is a private moment. Everybody, leave. Now,” Steve orders firmly, shutting the cracked opening of the door.

Hearing their words and now understanding what is happening, you return your attention to Natasha who is now rubbing her head exasperatedly at their behavior.

Shaking her head, Natasha bites her lips nervously before releasing a shaky breath and meeting your eyes.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to be with. I’ve put you in situations that have not been fair to you. But despite all of that, you still stayed by my side, and in return, I kept you at a distance.” 

Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself in comfort at the thoughts of all the times you've felt hurt, patiently waiting for her.

Natasha's hand moves slightly as if she were about to reach for you, but she holds herself back, giving you a sad expression.

“I don’t have a good track record with those who stay around me. They get hurt, always do,” Natasha admits, her eyes drifting down to where the bullet had pierced you. Her lips twist regretfully, “I can’t promise that you will have a safe life with me. And honestly, you deserve better.”

She meets your eyes again with a small, hopeful smile, her own gaze reflecting her vulnerability.

“But one thing I can do is promise that I will do everything I can to give you the happiness you deserve. I want to be with you, Y/n…if you’re still willing to have me?”

With those final words, Natasha waits with a bated breath for your response. You observe her carefully.

The wind blows her auburn hair softly behind her while the rooftop lights cast her face in a scarlet glow, and her ruby lips are caught between her teeth in anticipation.

You can't help but think you were right before.

Red is a beautiful shade of color on her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“Hey, Natasha…” you call for her attention among the joyous voices of your friends celebrating.

She turns her head to you, just as you put some of the wedding cake frosting on her cheek.

“…you have something on your face,” you say teasingly.

Natasha raises an unamused brow at you, but you spot the glint of fondness and love in her eyes. 

As she goes to wipe it off, you catch her hand, stopping her, and lean in to kiss the frosting from her cheek.

Before you can pull away too far, Natasha takes your chin in her hand and presses her lips to yours. 

With your small gasp of surprise, she deepens the kiss, entering your mouth to taste the frosting that you had just removed from her.

Sounds of cheer from everyone erupt around the two of you, and Natasha pulls away with a small smirk at your flushed expression.

Wrapping your arms around her to hold her close, you brush your lips lightly against her again before deciding to ask her one last time.

“Marry me?” 

Natasha’s grin widens happily, leaning in closer to whisper her response proudly against you. 

“I finally did.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: thank you for reading!

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

I saw the end when we began (1)

Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions

A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!

May 7th-10th 2015

The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues. 

Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door, 

"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head. 

"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head. 

"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.

"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears. 

"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page. 

"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses. 

"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words. 

"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face. 

"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems. 

"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly. 

"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook. 

"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions. 

"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her. 

"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further. 

"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers. 

"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry. 

"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.

You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.

You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"

"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."

Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."

You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."

Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.

After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.

With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.

Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."

You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.

As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."

Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.

As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.

[drvirgus]

Can we get a !idol mingi who is secretly dating a deaf/hard of hearing person. Like no one in her group knows because she wants to protect her. And dispatch catches them on a date and dealing with the fallout 🌟

hopefully you like it 🥰🥰 loved this request

Becoming Deaf

Idol! Minji X fem! Reader

Warnings: none

wc: 1.8k

A/n: i wrote it from my own experience but with lesser "What?" or "Huh?" since then the whole text would be like "hdbjdh" 😅😂😂😂

One Shot:

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

With a small smile on my face, I stood in the kitchen staring at the pot in front of me, its water already boiling. With one hand, I grabbed the pack of spaghetti and opened it, tossing the pasta into the pot shortly after. My eyes were fixed on the pot.

I jumped in surprise when I felt hands around my waist and someone resting their chin on my shoulder. My eyes widened as I turned to see the person hugging me from behind. "Minji!" I exclaimed in shock, clutching my chest and exhaling in relief.

Minji smiled and pulled me closer. Her lips were near my ear. "I missed you so much," I heard Minji say softly, which immediately relaxed me. I smiled to myself and let myself sink into her arms. "How was Paris?" I asked, placing my hand on hers, my eyes back on the pot.

Minji sighed a bit. "It was great. I saw a lot, but next time I wish you could come with me," Minji replied, though I only partially understood because a loud ringing suddenly filled my ear and it felt blocked. Annoyed, I sighed and stuck my finger in my ear, wiggling it until my ear popped open. Unfortunately, it quickly blocked again, so I pinched my nose and did a pressure release, which unblocked my ear again.

Minji looked at me with concern, releasing my waist and standing in front of me. "The doctor said you should stop doing that. You're only making your ears worse," Minji said, taking my hands in hers and looking me seriously in the eyes, her forehead furrowed.

Sighing, my shoulders slumped. "My ears are almost just for show... Only my left ear still somewhat works," I said, rolling my eyes as I moved closer to the pot and took out a noodle with a fork. "Try this. Are they done?" I asked, holding the fork out to Minji.

The taller woman looked at me dissatisfied but opened her mouth and tried the noodle. "A little longer," she replied, and I nodded. Minji leaned against one of the counters, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes fixed on me, making me sigh again.

"What did the doctor say?" Minji asked, making me freeze. My eyes shifted from her face back to the pot, and I quickly grabbed the pot and moved to the sink. My jaw tightened as I pretended not to have heard my girlfriend.

I didn't want to talk about it...

Minji watched me closely as I poured out the water and then tipped the noodles onto the plates. I wasn't in the mood to cook today, so I just made spaghetti with butter. My eyes fell on Minji. "Take your plate and sit in the living room," I said, and her eyes immediately narrowed.

"Baby."

I looked seriously at the slightly younger woman, which made Minji fall silent. Sighing, she just nodded and grabbed both plates before disappearing into the living room. I ran a hand through my hair, frustration evident on my face as I sighed again.

I regretted it myself...

Why hadn't I changed my doctor sooner?

With a smile on my face, I went into the living room and sat next to my girlfriend. Minji already had the remote in her hand and looked at me. "I want to talk about it... What did the doctor say?" Minji asked again, making me hesitate.

Sighing, I clasped my hands together and rubbed them. "I might go completely deaf in the next few years," I admitted, causing Minji's eyes to widen immediately. She set the remote aside and turned her whole body towards me.

"What?" she asked incredulously, staring at me in shock. Nervously, I bit my lip and hung my head lower.

"I had hearing aids in both ears... The reason the volume never really worked for me was that my left ear was average. The hearing aids damaged my left ear," I began quietly, and Minji nodded with a furrowed brow. She didn't say anything, just let me continue.

"It seems I had an ear infection as a child that wasn't treated..." I added, and Minji shook her head. "That can't be. You had an appointment every four months," Minji replied, visibly annoyed, shaking her head in disbelief and exhaling several times.

I let out a humorless laugh, which made Minji fall silent. "Isn't there anything they can do?" she asked, biting her lip. Her eyes looked sadder as she sighed heavily. "You love... hearing my voice," she murmured softly, which made me smile gently. I took her hands in mine, my thumb stroking the back of her hand.

"I love everything about you," I began quietly, laughing a bit. My teeth caught my lower lip as I felt... kind of sad...

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A beeping sound rang in my ears for the second time, and a sigh escaped my throat. My eyes immediately fell on my girlfriend in front of me, who was animatedly telling me about what happened in her last dance class. A small, sad smile appeared on my lips as I propped my chin on my hand. "Baby... my hearing aids are out of battery," I said softly, causing Minji to tilt her head slightly. Her eyebrows raised as she started to laugh a little. "Do you have the batteries with you?" she asked, but I shook my head.

My eyebrows raised almost in shock as I felt the hearing aids switch off. It felt like my ears were completely blocked or like an emptiness formed inside me. My thoughts became louder in my head as the world around me fell almost completely silent.

"Baby, baby," my eyes focused on Minji in front of me, which immediately made me smile again. I quickly removed my hearing aids and gently placed them in their case, which I then put in my bag. "Sorry... I never forget my batteries," I murmured as I leaned forward a bit more.

Minji smiled and seemed to say something. I heard the sound, but I couldn't understand the words...

"What?"

Minji probably repeated herself, but I only tilted my head more. An embarrassed laugh escaped my throat. "Haha, really?" I asked, hoping it was just the story she was telling me earlier. Minji furrowed her brow briefly but then giggled into her hand and leaned forward a bit.

She took my hands in hers and looked straight into my eyes. "I asked if you wanted something to drink," Minji said with a smile, making me laugh again. My cheeks heated up automatically. "Sorry. But yes, I'd love a hot chocolate," I said, looking at her through my lashes.

Minji smirked as she brought my fingers to her lips and kissed them. "Coming right up," she said with a smile, getting up to go to the counter to order our drinks. My eyes immediately looked out the large window. I frowned a bit as I noticed a car on the other side of the street driving away almost frantically.

"Here you go."

My eyes turned back to my beautiful girlfriend. "Thanks," I said with a broad smile and took the cup. "Careful, it’s h-" Minji started, but I immediately burned my tongue as I tried to take a small sip. Panicking, I set the cup down on the table and fanned my tongue with my hand.

Minji laughed amusedly, shaking her head. "I’d love to kiss it better," she said, intertwining our hands again. "But we're in public," she sighed, rolling her eyes, which made me smile immediately.

"We should probably head home soon then," I replied, causing Minji to blush slightly. She looked straight into my eyes while taking a sip from her straw, grinning at me. "We probably should."

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"Minji," I said quietly as I looked at the article on my phone. My eyes immediately filled with tears as goosebumps spread across my body. Dispatch had caught us... right when Minji kissed my fingers. My face was censored, but it was clearly Minji.

Panicking, I tapped on my phone and dialed my girlfriend’s number. It rang for a while before a voice answered, but it wasn’t Minji. My eyes widened immediately.

"Oh my god. Are you Minji’s girlfriend?" I heard from the phone. "Oh, how sweet. Minji has you saved as 'Love of life'," they laughed. My face relaxed as I nervously chewed my lip. My mouth opened, but my entire face turned red at the same time.

"Hello? Are you still there?" I heard another voice say. "If you want Minji, she’s with the CEO right now."

"Is- Is everything okay?" I asked quietly into the phone. There was silence for a moment until multiple voices erupted almost simultaneously. Overwhelmed, my eyes widened. "Is... Minji okay?" I asked again, making some of them say, "Awww." I swallowed. "Can I... come over?"

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

With a small smile on my face, I now sat on the bench at the dance studio where Minji and her members always practiced their songs and choreographies. Minji was right next to me, with an arm around me, trying to pull me even closer, though it was almost impossible as I was already practically sitting on her. Her eyes were seriously focused, observing every little movement her members made.

"Why do we have to hear from Dispatch that you’re in a relationship?" Hanni asked, clutching her chest playfully. Hyein nodded enthusiastically beside her. Danielle leaned forward a bit to get a good look at my face, making me visibly nervous, so I started to laugh. Danielle smirked and poked my cheek with her finger.

"Hands off," Minji growled, trying to pull me even closer. Surprised, I turned to Minji. "Don’t be so mean," I said, gently tapping her thigh. Minji's expression softened as she looked at me. She exhaled but didn’t respond.

"So? Why did I have to hear from Di-," Hanni began, but I just stared at her. Hanni blinked. "Why is she staring like that?" she asked, looking at the others before looking back at me. "Oh, sorry. I’m... a bit deaf," I said, pointing to my right ear.

Hanni nodded understandingly, and none of them made a big deal out of it. My body relaxed immediately. "Is that why we didn’t know?" Haerin asked, looking at Minji. Minji sighed again. "You’re all crazy," she replied, making Hyein and Hanni laugh and nod.

"I’m hungry," Danielle said, and Hyein nodded vigorously. "Let’s go to the dorm. Y/N can eat with us. Let’s have a movie marathon," Hyein said excitedly, clapping her hands and bouncing in place. I smirked.

"No way," Minji replied almost venomously. "She’s mine," she added, pulling my leg over hers. My eyebrows raised. My hand rested on her arm while the others immediately complained. "That would be fun. Plus, I’d get to know the others better," I said, smiling. "Can we?" I asked, making Minji swallow.

"Okay," Minji replied softly, her hand on my thigh, gently stroking over my pants. "Will you sleep with me too?" she asked hopefully, looking at me with big eyes.

"Simp."

"Absolutely."

"That’s sweet."

"I’m going to puke."

"Hopefully they won’t be like this when we watch the movie."

"Oh god. I’ve got vomit in my mouth."

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 13 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: took me so so long, but I think the wait was worth it. 😭 let me know what you think, love u!😉

W/C: 4.072

part twelve

"Okay, is there anything left for me to do?"

I raise my head, looking up at my dad from my phone. The stack of papers on the dining table immediately giving me a headache.

"Are you asking me, dad? Or are you talking to yourself?" I ask, getting up from my position on the couch to see what his mid-life crisis is about.

"Myself.." He replies, bringing the ugly ceramic mug I’d decorated at the age of five up to his mouth.

The blue cursed-looking unicorn, with the biggest red eyes staring back at me, makes me clear my throat.

I mean, even I would have thrown that thing away after my child forgot about it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, leaning forward to flip through the stacks of paper.

Poor trees...

"Stop messing with them, y/n. They are important documents for work.."

I hum in understanding, holding my hands up in surrender.

"You're really killing off nature with these.." I add, scratching my itchy nose.

"Will you please go and do something useful, sweetheart?"

I sigh, instead of walking away, I sit down next to him. Turning to him with a smile on my face.

"Give me something useful I can do.." I ask, giving him a sickly sweet smile.

I hear him chuckle, his hand coming to rub my shoulder, before he points to the stack of papers on his left.

"The other documents I’d rather not have you go through.."

He reaches for the papers, placing them in front of me.

"Can you sort these in chronological order? It's images of camera footage, date and time are on the top right."

"Sure, dad.." I agree, flipping through the black-and-white printed images. Curiosity raised at what I'm seeing.

An individual, with more of a masculine frame standing outside of a huge, luxurious house.

Dressed in- from what I can make out to be, a black t-shirt, along with the ugliest pair of jorts I have ever seen.

"Where is this from? New case?"

"Bellingham's case." He replies curtly, writing something down on his notepad.

It was astonishing how anyone could read his handwriting.

Were lawyers second in 'the most unreadable handwriting' competition, next to doctors?

I raise my brows at his answer, interest peaked suddenly. I look around the house, as if Jude would pop up like some ‘Bloody Mary’ game if called out for three times- but I remember he is out tonight, enjoying his break from training at fuck-knows-where.

"Footage from the break-in?"

"Yes, honey- any more questions?" He glances at me for a moment, raising a single brow in question.

"No, not really..." I say, eyes flying to the date and time.

I only recognize the date as the first match we played in the Champions League this season, back in September at Bernabéu.

The dates do match up, and when I continue flipping through the images. Seeing more and more images of different dates, with more damage done to the home, makes me gasp.

How did Jude and his mom even live here for many more months after the first incident?

I feel goosebumps rise up on my skin at the thought of feeling unsafe in my own home. Had I known how terrifying the things that happened to Jude were, I wouldn’t have been such an asshole when he first arrived.

My stupid mouth and I...

I shake my head as if to remove my thoughts, taking a deep breath before quickly sorting and stacking the images correctly.

If I had known sooner, maybe I could have been more civil towards my unwanted roommate..

"Girl, turn the lights on. I literally cannot see a single thing." Amira complains, smacking her bubblegum in the loudest way possible.

"I hate winter. Seriously, why does it get dark so early?.." I complain, hurrying over to switch the light on in my bedroom.

"Stop complaining and do a twirl for me.." She says, placing her phone against something stable, so she can see me properly.

"Oh, sure your majesty.." I mock, chuckling at her, before doing a 360.

"You look so damn good. I swear, if you don't take a man home-"

"It's a party- or event , full of my colleagues. I can't be a hoe tomorrow night.."

"If you wanted, you would.." I watch her smirk, before she runs a hand down her dark locs.

"We can do that when you're visiting next time.."

"Can't- I have a man." I hear her chuckle, and definitely don't miss the sound of another, deeper laugh in the background.

"Oh, great thanks for reminding me. Hey Trent, stop listening in on us.." I say sternly, leaning in towards the screen.

"He's not listening in. He is on the phone with Jude.."

Oh, fuck, great.

I turn towards my door, praying Jude or Trent wouldn't be too loud on the phone.

At this point, I was surprised that the jig wasn't up yet.

Amira already knew about it, of course. I just hoped Trent didn't.

I mean, it would be foolish to think that Jude and I could keep our secret to ourselves. But for once, I trusted he would keep his mouth shut about us living together.

Everyone knows that men gossip more than women. They could know the most intricate details of the juiciest drama you'll ever come across, and never utter a single word about it until you ask about it directly.

"Trent's gone, now speak. Why do you look like you're sweating buckets?"

"I feel sick, like- my stomach hurts.." I begin, struggling to take my dress off.

"Maybe you got your period?" She suggests, using the screen to watch herself dot the pinkest liquid blush on her cheekbones.

"No, my Clue app says I'm getting my period in six days.." I reply, hanging my dress back into the closet. Then, I grab my pajama set, pulling the comfy clothes on quickly.

"You're probably nervous about tomorrow.." She mumbles, fidgeting with the lamp next to her, before blending the blush seamlessly into her foundation.

"What could I possibly be nervous about? I've been going for like two years, since I became eighteen.." I flop onto my bed, cuddling my soft pillow against my body.

My thoughts wander for a moment, something close to déjà vu washing over me.

"It's the butterflies.."

I snap my head back towards my phone, pulling a confused face.

"For?.."

"For Jude- You have butterflies in your stomach for Jude!" She screams unnecessarily loudly, making me drop my phone onto my bed.

I gasp, retrieving my phone from the mattress, looking back at her with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy?! Dude, he's literally across the hallway!" I exclaim, burying my head into my pillows.

"He probably heard you!" I cry out, giving her a middle finger.

"Exactly my intentions! I swear, everybody in the fucking world knows he wants you at this point. I've never seen two people in this much denial before."

"I literally don't know what to do with myself, thanks for emphasizing that.."

"How long is it going to take for you to be honest with yourself? Another six months, yeah? You like him, come on. You like him.."

"I haven't liked anyone since high school.."

"Let's not bring high school love into this. You were sixteen, should’ve been worried about GCSE's instead..."

"Okay, let me do a little magazine quiz for you.." I watch her spray her fixing spray onto her face.

She dries her face with a small fan, before leaning in and looking at me with a serious expression.

"Go ahead.." I groan, sitting up properly.

"What do you think of when you see him?"

"I don't know? 'There he is again'?" I answer stupidly, looking at her. I watch her cover her mouth, probably disappointed with my reply.

"Okay- let's try this. Imagine, tomorrow, you see him in a suit, tie all of that-  dresssed up nicely, with his hair freshly cut. He smells like the sexiest cologne you have ever smelled. No 'Doir, Sauvage' shit- think 'Tom Ford, Oud Wood'.."

The rest of whatever the fuck she says doesn't register in my brain, but the heat slowly pooling into my body, down my stomach and thighs, tells me enough.

It tells me too much.

I’m fucked, done for.

A lost cause.

I need an exorcism..

"I'm ready!" I shout, taking one quick look in the mirror, before grabbing my handbag off my bed.

I stuff a powderpuff, some lip products, and my phone into my bag and rush down the stairs.

"Come on, honey. It's one thing to be late- another thing for me to be late to the event I'm co-hosting.." My dad says, already standing at the front door, navy blue suit making him look handsome.

"Ready! What do you think?" I ask him, pointing to my dress and heels.

"You look very beautiful. I did not think you'd wear such a daring colour.."

I know what he wants to say. ‘You look just like your mother’, but ignore those thoughts.

I shrug at him, glancing in the mirror again. The scarlet-red dress clinging to my skin is just the right amount of sexy and chic.

Of course, I had to go for a mini dress, ignoring my dad's wishes, because I could and I'm an adult.

I adjust my silver necklace, watching it glisten in the overhead light.

"Come on, y/n. Enough admiring.."

I nod, quickly walking behind him into the car.

I buckle my seatbelt, the mix of my dad's cologne and my perfume overwhelming me for a second.

"Wait? Where's Jude? Is he not attending?" I look at my dad, watching him pull out of the driveway.

"He will attend, but he said he would arrive with his teammates. He didn’t want to inconvenience us."

Inconvenience?

What did he mean with that?

I mean, we had not spoken properly for days- but inconvenience?

Am I overthinking things?

"Come and grab a drink with me.." Lina says, grabbing my wirst to pull me towards the cocktail- or in this case, mocktail bar.

Due to the discouragement of the players drinking alcohol, mid-season- it was the upmost important for this party to only offer non-alcoholic drinks.

And considering what had happened last time I was drunk- I wasn't complaining, at all..

The party had started two hours ago, though a little formal. We made the most out of it, while dancing along with the beautiful live music. The clock would strike twelve in a little, indicating the beginning of a new year.

Something about New Year’s Eve made me incredibly emotional at times. Maybe, it was the realization of life going faster than I thought- or maybe, it was some resentment I held against the negative things that happened in the year.

Even so, I tried to make the most of this party every year. Dancing wholeheartedly, tasting the food the chefs had worked so hard on, drinking the delicious drinks made by the bartenders.

"I'm going to get a Negroni- How about you?" Lina asks, wrapping her arm around mine as we walk towards the bar.

"I don't know- maybe I’ll just ask for a recommendation.." I speak, looking over at her. Her black dress hugging her figure as our high heels click against the floor.

"Oh, look who's here too.." She says, motioning ahead with her eyes and chin.

I follow her gaze, furrowing my brows in confusion. My eyes land on a couple of the football team players, all looking happy as they order their drinks one by one.

"Oh.." I mouth, lips pulling back into a straight line as I spot Jude next to them.

And of course, just like my dear best friend had described last night. He is dressed in a sleek, black suit matched with a crispy white shirt.

I watch him interact with his teammates, unconsciously staring at him as we near the bar.

His pearly white teeth show as the corners of his eyes crinkle, probably laughing at something funny one of the guys said.

I almost gasp out loud when he turns around, my eyes moving down to see the deep red handkerchief, placed neatly in the pocket of his suit.

Why in heaven's name- did we match?

I lean against the bar by instinct, drawing my attention back to the bartender who's standing in front of me. Eyes darting to the menu, of course- to only see non-alcoholic options.

Maybe, I did need a different type of drink.

'I'll have a Negroni, please.." I hear Lina say, and look at her for a moment before turning back to the bartender. Trying to ignore the fact that I can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the back of my head. 

What was that called again?

Scopaesthesia?

Whatever it's called, there should be a name for someone's warmth too- because Jude probably could feel the heat radiating off my body at this point, even if he isn’t standing that close to me..

"And what would this beauty like?”

I stand up straight at the words, looking at the smiling bartender.

I give him a soft, appreciative smile back, enjoying his non-creepy way of delivering a compliment, and quickly ask for a recommendation.

As y/n speaks to the bartender, he laughs back, leaning in to whisper something into her ear. It earns a chuckle from her, making her lean against the bar again.

Unaware of his own body language, Jude tightens his grip on his glass. His jaw twitches, and he turns away from the scene, scoffing to himself before taking a gulp of his drink.

His body tensing up does not go unnoticed by his friends slash teammates. He gets a pat on the shoulder from Dani, making him relax for a moment.

"Loosen up, brother. Have some fun.." Eduardo speaks, giving him his signature smile while clinking his full glass with Jude's.

Jude nods, walking closer towards the crowd of his teammates, trying his absolute best to remove his brown eyes from the girl.

The girl his brain has not stopped thinking about, ever since that drunken night..

From the way she looked, spoke, dressed- he was infatuated with her.

And tonight?

The sexy red dress, hugging her body- showing skin-

He is fucked, absolutely fucked, especially when he realizes how clammy his hands are.

The normally confident and playful Jude vanishes for a moment. He's acting like a lovesick teenage boy, too nervous to ask his crush out for prom.

The hour passes painfully slow, with the both of them sneaking glances at each other every other minute. Their friends notice, of course, smirks on their faces as they realize how clueless they are.

Young love shouldn't be this complicated, they think, wanting to push them towards each other already. Tired of the back and forth they were a part of these past months. The patience they had was running low, even though it wasn't anything harming or hurting them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!" A sharp, ear-piercing sound echos from the microphone, booming out of the speakers.

The speaker is none other than a Real Madrid executive, standing next to the chic, wealthy woman, is y/n’s father.

The entire venue’s attention turns to the two individuals, conversations and laughter cut off immediately.

"Just like every year since our successful partnership with Mr. l/n. We thank you for being here at our annual New Year's event!"

The room answers with happy and loud cheers, some clapping along in agreement. An interesting mix of almost all the athletes signed to Real Madrid, their hardworking staff, and not to forget, esteemed lawyers from the law firm.

"We will enter the new year in ten minutes! Please enjoy the rest of your night!"

As if on cue, the room goes back to their own conversation. And the restless, nervous wreck y/n immediately turns around to visit the bar again, asking the bartender for another one of the drinks he'd made for her earlier.

She didn't even remember what it was called. All she tasted and saw were strawberries- which meant that the bright pink, iced drink was good enough.

She grabs the drink off the counter, thanking the bartender, before turning around to return to her friends.

She looks down to watch her step, high heels starting to hurt her feet, as she tries to walk without tripping, making her forget to watch where she’s going.

Before the girl is aware of it, her body collides with a harder one. Glass in her han, tipping over, the pink drink splashing all over a white, crispy shirt.

y/n gasps, eyes widening in horror. Looking up from the disaster, she makes eye contact with a shell-shocked Jude. His own, brown eyes widening impossibly wider than hers.

Covering her mouth, she places the glass on a small, round bar table next to her, turning to him wordlessly.

"Oh- I, umh.." She stutters, sweat practically visible on her temples at this point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She thinks, multiple thoughts running through her head like Usain-fucking-Bolt..

With only one brain-cell working in between them, and their hearts beating like crazy. She grabs his hand, pulling him off the dance floor- into a small closet, behind the stage. Away from the peering eyes and cameras at the event.

She turns away from him, closing the door, before locking it. Ensuring no one would walk into this disaster of a sight.

"Take it off.." She begins, speaking without thought. Reaching for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a stack of them before starting to dab away the moisture from his now pink-stained-shirt.

Her eyes dart up, lips parting slightly as Jude shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side.

The dim light flickers in the small, suffocating room. She halts the hurried dabbing, making eye contact with an equally entranced Jude.

"Sorry.." y/n whispers, breath hitting his plump lips. Her hand moves up again, rolling some more of the paper towel around her hand, before wiping off the excess moisture again.

Jude's body stiffens, particularly his abdomen. He takes a sharp breath, looking down at the flustered girl.

For some reason, a sudden switch flips inside of him. He sighs, eyes roaming up and down her form, a warm, but burning feeling settling in his stomach.

He decides to move for a moment, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. It causes y/n to freeze up this time, her body going rigid as she watches him expose his arms.

Even in the dim light, his muscles protrude, along with the bulging veins running down his forearms.

"Fucking hell.." He says in a low voice, unbuttoning the top buttons of his ruined shirt, making the girl’s eyes widen again.

"What- What are you doing?" She asks, heart almost exploding due to the pace it’s beating at.

"I'm burning up in this room.." He replies, making direct eye contact with her, as he fidgets with the white buttons.

Revealing more, and more skin..

It's like he's dropped the nervousness within seconds. Looking into her eyes while fixing the collar of his shirt.

Even though it takes him approximately ten seconds, to the girl in front of him- the moment is dragged out horribly long and in slow motion.

Her breath hitches at the delicious sight, and she gulps while looking up at him.

Deeply entranced in the tension filled- sensual moment, she drops the wet, used paper towels mindlessly onto the floor.

The lights flicker once again, making her eyes squint as she takes him in.

No doubt, the image will be burned into her infatuated mind from now on. Gnawing at her sanity and logical thinking.

Of course, he smells good. So damn good, the perfect mix of musk and powdery cologne.

Not only is the sight delicious, but the smell is too.

The loud music outside of the small enclosed space continues, the crowd singing along to the chorus of a well-known song.

She looks down for a second, trying to collect her thoughts before she says something completely unhinged.

"Jude.." She whispers, heart beating erratically in his chest. y/n can feel her hands shake, her legs trembling in her high heels.

Their breaths mingle as they look into each other's eyes. A silence settling in between them after she says his name.

Jude's veins practically burst at the sound of his name leaving her lips. His eyes dart to the perfectly glossed lips that say his name so sweetly, so softly..

His mind goes dizzy at the sound. Wanting to hear it over, and over again. Loving the sound most ardently..

A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he traces her beautiful features with his eyes, until he makes eye contact with her, again.

"We should leave this place. The countdown is about to begin.." She whispers the only words she can think of saying, breath shaky and faint.

Jude does not answer with words, but his eyes do dart towards the door. Ears perking up as he hears the familiar countdown begin.

"Twenty!" The crowd exclaims, happiness and excitement buzzing throughout the venue- except in the small room they are in.

"Jude!" She says again, voice a little more stable than before. She raises her left hand, pulling on the hem of his now- untucked shirt.

He snaps his head back at her, watching the soft skin in between her brows pinch together in frustration.

"y/n.." He whispers back, head leaning closer against hers. Making her grip on his shirt grow tighter. Skin on her knuckles tightening from the strength she's using.

"What?" She asks, voice fiery sharp, and impatient. Emotions making her eyes glisten, along with the jewelry adorning her neck and ears in the light.

Though, the tension is high and suffocating- Jude grins suddenly, plump lips stretching as he leans in closer. His own eyes, now with a hint of playfulness in them, roaming around her face.

"Ten!" They hear the crowd exclaim, continuing to cheer and laugh together.

"What?" She says again, lifting her chin up to look him in the eyes. Her breath hitches at the playful expression on his face, like he's an imminent danger to her heart and lungs.

"You're the most annoying fucking person I have ever met.." He speaks, with no real malice in his tone. A chuckle leaves his mouth, soft breaths hitting her lips.

y/n's heart stutters at his words, and the change of emotion in her eyes makes him go absolutely crazy.

"Fuck, and I love that. I love you, y/n.." He breathes, his hand cupping her jaw.

He watches her face intently, watching her blink multiple times, before her hand travels from the hem of his shirt to his unbuttoned collar.

She wraps her hand around the fabric, pulling him closer with a small jank. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she speaks again.

"Then fucking kiss me, you annoying douche bag.."

The words leave her mouth in a fluid, rehearsed way, and she loses herself in his deep eyes.

"Three!"

"Fucking gladly.." He mutters, both of their eyes fluttering shut as his hand moves over to the small of her back impatiently.

"Happy New Year!"

Their lips brush against each other, her hands gripping onto his shirt with a vice-like grip.

Her breath hitches at first, making him chuckle cockily against her lips. His hand supporting her jaw in the most tender way possible, as his thumb rubs against the softness of her cheek.

The soft press of their lips touching make their hearts flutter.

Realizing there is no point of return from this, the feathery touches turn into heated, greedy ones.

The rush of adrenaline makes them lose their self-control, an unstoppable, alluring feeling injected into their veins as they continue soaking in the moment, until they part for air.

Their ragged pants brush against each other's faces, a small smile pulling at her lips. Eyes finding each other again, as their hearts beat in unison.

Jude stares into her eyes, thumb running down her jaw, as he smiles back at her.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful.."

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: series rewrite, start of season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, health problems, lightheadedness, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

Part 1: Her Broken Heart

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend {You Are Here}

Part 3: Blue Handprints

The summer heat had finally decided to die down to a reasonable temperature. It was the only reason your mother decided a picnic at the park would be nice. It was equal parts safe for you and enough of a distraction that you could pretend you were a normal kid.

At just four years old you were starting to notice how you didn’t live like the children you saw outside your window. You had started to grow bored of your usual antics stuck at home.

You lay on your stomach near the edge of your blanket. Along the blades of green grass you spotted a ladybug climbing towards the sky. You were practicing counting the spots on its back when the beat in your chest became noticeable.

The pressure from laying on your tummy made it easier to feel your heartbeat unevenly.

“Do you want another grape, sweetie?” your mom asked, stretched out and enjoying the shade.

You reached out a smaller, pudgier hand, accepting the grape with a hungry toddler’s mouth. Your eyes looked above the ladybug grass and stared at the playground, complete with twisting slides and a rubber rock wall.

“Mom,” you say in your timid tone. “I want to play.”

“I know, honey,” she says, “But you know how that’s not safe for your heart.”

A pout grew instantly, “I am careful!”

Sensing your coming tantrum, your mother drew your attention away from the other children playing with a lacrosse ball in the nearby field.

“Yes, you are very good at being careful. But remember your heart sometimes has a mind of it’s own. Sometimes being careful isn’t enough. The doctor said not to be too crazy.”

You ball your little fists but hold back the angry words. “I don’t like my heart.”

Your mother cooed, reaching for you, “No, sweetie, you have a wonderful heart. It’s big and warm and full of love for far too many things. It tries its best to take care of you. So we need to try our best to take care of it, okay?”

You snuggle into your mother’s arms, upset feelings turning into tears, “Okay, mommy.” You feel a kiss on your head when the children playing in the field came running past your blanket.

They stopped on the other side of your shaded spot and conversed behind dirt smudged hands. They were both rowdy boys with scabbed knees and grass stained shirts, but they had wide smiles as one approached you.

He had unruly hair and sunburnt cheeks.

“Hello,” he said in a nervous voice, “What’s your name?”

You rub at your eyes, “(Y/N).” You sink further into your mom.

The boy was out of breath and already itching to run again judging by his fidgeting. He said quickly, “Hi my name is Stiles. Do you want to come play with us? We were playing sharks and minnows, but it’s not so fun with only two people.”

You look up at your mother’s chin and ask quietly, “Can I go play?”

Your mother sighs, tickling your sides, “If you don’t run around so much and stay on the playground…”

You were instantly crawling out of her lap, “Okay!”

“And if you start getting out of breath you need to tell me!” your mom continues, “Be careful climbing the ladders and don’t you dare stand on the slide!”

“Bye!” you yell in reply, already jogging away with Stiles to meet with his other friend.

He touched your shoulder, “Do you like chasing bad guys?”

“I’m not supposed to chase,” you say seriously, “But I do like to catch bad guys.”

Stiles nodded his head in deep thought, “Okay. How about we make traps for bad guys under the slides.”

You agree enthusiastically, grateful at your young age for someone who didn’t know about your heart. Grateful that they played with you like any other child.

And you schemed underneath the slides, building traps out of woodchips and leafy twigs. Innocent kids that didn’t know any better. Didn’t know that you wouldn’t remember this first meeting.

~~~

“I’ve started TAing.”

Allison gives you a strange look, “What?”

“I’m a teacher’s assistant now,” you lead the way into the school, “I have a free period since I finished a core class during my homeschooling.”

“Who will you TA for?”

You hold back a grimace, “Coach Finstock.”

Allison snorts, “You know I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what’s going on half the time. He forgets which periods he’s teaching economics and which periods he needs to be in the gym for P.E..”

“All the more reason why he needs a TA to sort things out,” you say, straight-backed. “And it means I can help out at lacrosse games too.”

“What, like a waterboy?”

You bump into Allison’s side, “No… well maybe. Just helping out with supplies and plays and locker room stuff.”

“Locker room stuff,” Allison says with raised eyebrows.

You choke on a laugh, “Don’t start. I reserve the right to ban you from the locker rooms. Especially seeing as that’s become your new make out spot.”

That caught her off guard, ramming right into the person in front of her. With a squeal she drops everything in her arms and put her hands into her hair. It was Scott who turns around after the collision.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Allison laughs, joining you as you help pick up her things.

Scott looks terrifyingly relieved, “You’re okay.”

“Once my heart starts beating again, yeah.” You smile ruefully at that statement. “What?”

“I’m just happy to see you.”

You thought Scott looks more like seeing Allison walking and talking was a miracle. Like he couldn’t believe that she was alive. You hand Allison her pencil case and folders, watching their goodbye with skepticism.

“What was that?” you whisper as Allison walks away to first period.

Scott was still breathing shallow, “She’s okay.”

You snap your fingers in front of his dazed eyes. “Are you okay?”

The speakers suddenly turn on with a crackle of fuzzy interference. “Attention, students, this is your principal. I know you’re all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled. Thank you.” With another crackle of microphone feedback the principal’s voice was gone.

You return your eyes to Scott and furrow your brow.

He took in your confusion and whispers, “I had a dream last night where Allison and I snuck into the buses behind the school.”

“Oh?” you say, still skeptical but now with a smile on your face.

“And I sort of had… an outburst.” He seems to struggle with finding the right words. “I killed Allison and broke through the back of the bus.”

“Well, shit that sucks Scott,” you fold your arms, “But I don’t think you’re capable of all that.”

He grimaces, “No, when we showed up to school and saw the bus out back – and how it looked just like it did in my dream – I thought maybe I had actually killed Allison somehow.”

You reign in your teasing smiles and bump into his shoulder, “Scott, like I said, I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body. There’s no way you could kill someone and tear up a bus.” He still slumps as he follows you to first period. “I can understand why that would still be scary regardless.”

It was his turn to bump into your shoulder, but with more force, causing you to trip into a row of lockers. “God! I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he pulls you closer by the hand.

You laugh, ignoring the jump of your heart. “It’s okay, let’s just get to chemistry.”

Stiles was already sitting down, bouncing his leg against the table stool. He looks at Scott as if asking if everything was okay. Scott gave him a reassuring nod as he took a seat at the table in front of him.

You smile at them as you took the remaining empty seat at a back table. You immediately start copying the diagram drawn on the blackboard, taking out your science project notes for inspiration.

You could hear the frantic voices of Scott and Stiles near the front, and a needle of hurt stuck in your chest as you remember the secret that Stiles wasn’t ready to tell you. You had to remind yourself that the friendship was still relatively new.

There was still a secret you hadn’t told them either.

“Mr. Stilinski, if that’s your idea of a hushed whisper you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while,” Mr. Harris says from the blackboard. “I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?”

Stiles begrudgingly moves his stuff to the back but stops when he spots the empty seat next to you.

“Hey, trouble,” you say quietly.

He sat clumsily, “How was the rest of your weekend?”

“It was fine. Just a lot of reading.” You finish copying the blackboard notes.

Stiles leans on his elbow, “Still reading that werewolf book?”

“You mean Harry Potter,” you snicker, “Yeah I’m on the fourth one now.” Turning your head you could see Stiles staring at you, “What?”

He swallows hard, awkwardly straightening himself, “Nothing just… I like that coconutty-strawberry smell.”

Warmth came up your chest, “That would be my shampoo.”

“Then thank god for personal hygiene.” He grimaces and smacks the back of his head.

You ignore it, pulling your notebook closer. You could still feel his eyes on you as a classmate jumps to the window, “Hey, I think they found something!”

Everyone ran for the wall of windows. You stood quickly from your stool too when a fuzzy feeling flickers on in your head. You grip the table, closing your eyes and frowning.

No one notices as you compose yourself, waiting for the fainting feeling to go away. You wander closer to the group of kids terrified at what they were seeing. A tingling was making its way down your legs – the blood rushing to your toes.

You felt uncomfortably warm when a cool hand touches your shoulder, “(Y/N)?”

Stiles was at your side, unsure of what was happening. “You look ashy. Are you lightheaded again?”

The breath leaving your lungs was shallow and rapid, cotton was building pressure in your ears. “I’m going to faint, Stiles.”

“Mr. Harris!” Stiles yells, “(Y/N) needs to get to the nurses office!”

Not that the student body would know, but every teacher at the school knew of your health problems. They knew it was a possibility that you would require medical care. Mr. Harris, as cynical and distrustful as he was, let you leave promptly despite his feelings.

“You may leave, Miss. Westbrook.”

“Sir, I don’t think she should be walking alone to…”

Mr. Harris was using his phone as he looks out the window, “Get out of my classroom, Stilinski!”

Stiles keeps a hand on your back and another on your arm, watching your face the whole way. His voice was frantic and small as he talks you through it.

“It’s like I can see the blood draining from your face. Does that happen a lot? I mean, I know you get head rushes a lot, but the fainting thing? Do you just have bad blood circulation? Was it something I said? Look I know I’ve mentioned how good you smell twice now and while it is true I acknowledge that it’s a little creepy of me to be sniffing your hair so much. I probably shouldn’t have admitted that. Not gonna lie it’s kinda freaking me out that you’re not saying anything.”

You struggle to breathe, “It’s sort of hard when you don’t give me time to answer.”

The shallowness of your breathy words put a strange feeling in Stiles’ chest, “Do you need me to do something else? Does the nurse… what the hell is that?”

Your watch was suddenly beeping with an alarm. Your heart rate was far too high and had stayed that high for more than thirty seconds. A pain enters your chest, and your walking slows.

Stiles starts panicking, “What does that mean? (Y/N), what’s happening?” He yells down the hallway towards the office, “Hey! We need help over here!”

It was hard to keep your eyes open as you start to slump, “Stiles…” you mumble. And you lost consciousness, falling into Stiles and in return he fell to the ground to catch your body.

He held your back and shoulders, using his free hand to brush the hair from your face. Your skin was still gray-tinged. An office lady and the school nurse came rushing down the hallway. Their heavy footfalls matching the hard beating of your heart.

Stiles was finally at a loss for words, holding you like you had just died. “(Y/N)?! Oh my god, I think she just fainted,” he says to the incoming help, “I hope she just fainted.”

The nurse asks Stiles to help drag you to the sickbed. He complies, frantically asking questions until the nurse ordered him to stop.

“Alice, will you call her mother and I’ll get her doctor on the line,” the nurse says to the office lady. She dials a number and holds it to her ear as she elevates your legs and checks that your airway wasn’t obstructed.

“What did she say to you before she fainted?”

Stiles was still flabbergasted, “She turned gray and said she was lightheaded. She told me she was going to faint.” He ran a hand over his shaved head, “And then her watch started freaking out and she had a pain in her chest.”

“It’s been more than 90 seconds now,” she mumbles to herself, checking your watch monitor to measure your heart rate.

“Wh-What does that mean?” Stiles asks, blinking blearily. “Is she going to be okay?”

The nurse starts talking to a doctor on the phone and Stiles was ushered out by the office lady, forced to watch from a different room. He refuses to leave the office until he sees your eyes open just a few seconds later.

~~~

“By the time I checked with the office at lunch she was sent home,” Stiles vents, one hand on the wheel and the other in his short hair. “She hasn’t answered any of my texts or phone calls.”

Scott was stretched thin between worrying about his possible dreamlike wolf attack and the mystery of his newfound friend. In all honesty he was more worried about how worried his best friend was.

“I talked to Allison about it, she doesn’t know anything either.”

“God, I knew there was something wrong,” Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “That scar she has… whatever I look up says it has something to do with her heart.”

Scott eyes his friend, unsettled by the palpable worry. “She’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We would have heard something if she wasn’t.”

Stiles grips the steering wheel, “We would have heard something if she was.”

They pull up against the fence to the bus drop off, putting the jeep in park. Stiles rubs at his worn face and Scott leans in with an edge to his voice.

“Listen, let’s just get this Derek theory over with and then we can go check on (Y/N). Sound good?”

Stiles grumbles, slipping out of the jeep with his friend.

“Hey, no, just me,” Scott says, “Someone needs to keep watch.”

“How come I’m always the guy keeping watch?”

Scott pulls on his friend’s arm, “Because there’s only two of us and I happen to have wolf-like reflexes and you’re distracted by your sudden love for (Y/N).”

“I am…” Stiles scoffs, caught off guard. “I am not in love with (Y/N).”

“The eight text messages and four phone calls would say otherwise.”

Stiles juts a finger in the air, “Hey, that is totally untrue.” He put his hands on his hips, “I only made three phone calls.”

“Whatever,” Scott whispers, “I’ll just be in and out.”

“Okay, why’s it starting to feel like you’re Batman and I’m Robin? I don’t want to be Robin all the time.”

Scott was bewildered, “Nobody’s Batman and Robin any of the time.”

“Not even some of the time?”

But true his word, Scott was quick upon entering the bus. Stiles surrenders and sits in the jeep ready to drive with the headlights off. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his messages to you, concern eating away at his stomach.

It was bad enough that he witnessed you fall ill so quickly and dragged you to the nurses office. But now he was realizing, through some personal investigation and the unhelpful words of Scott, that he had a crush on you.

He liked you.

With all the strange supernatural problems infiltrating his life, it was almost an unexpected surprise to have something so human as a little crush. His stomach flips. But what if there was something more supernatural about you?

Your heart rate was elevated when you fainted. Scott’s heart rate is a tell of an oncoming werewolf transformation.

Is that why you wanted to keep it a secret?

Stiles was sick of his investigative brain, slamming his forehead against the steering wheel. Couldn’t he have normal high school problems like fretting over the girl he liked instead of deducing if she was a shape shifter or not?

Flashlight beams could be seen from the school’s entrance. Stiles lifts his head to see them shining in his eyes, “Oh, shit…” he starts laying on the horn.

~~~

After dropping Scott off, Stiles sat in his jeep contemplating his next move. Staring at the clock on his dashboard he knew it was far too late for your parents to accept company.

But there was still that garden trellis outside your window.

Making his decision, Stiles drove to the end of your street, hopping out and running for your house. It was easier to climb the garden trellis now that he knew where to put his hands and feet through the vines and ladder.

He creeps over the roof tiles and squats outside your window. The lights were off, and he could just make out the human shape lying in bed… he still couldn’t help himself. He taps on the glass until he saw your figure stir.

Ruffled in white pajamas with little blueberries printed on the fabric, you carefully tip toe to the window to let him in.

“Stiles,” you yawn, the moonlight still bright enough to make your eyes squint. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles made a much more graceful entry, afraid to disturb your parents. “I wanted to check on you. You haven’t been answering my messages.”

You sit on the edge of your bed, clearly exhausted. Stiles remains standing – because he wanted to pace or because he was preparing to catch you should you fall, he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry,” you run your fingers through your bedhead. Stiles thought it was cute. “Between the hospital visit and the bedrest I haven’t even looked at my phone. My mom usually keeps it whenever I have a fainting episode. Gives me time to unplug and unwind.”

“But…” Stiles folds his arms, “But you are okay?”

He didn’t like that it took you longer to respond. “Yes, I’m fine. You know I get lightheaded a lot. Fainting is usually a consequence of that.”

“Your watch went off right before you fell,” he says quietly, his eyes dark and serious. “Like some kind of alarm.”

“Yeah,” you look at your watch that you wear even when sleeping. “It measures my heart rate. Whenever it spikes for too long it warns me that I might faint.”

“That’s why you get lightheaded… your heart?” his eyes linger at the collar of your shirt, hoping to see that scar again.

You fold your arms, protective, “When I get worked up it doesn’t beat enough to get oxygen to my brain. Then I get lightheaded and sometimes faint.”

Stiles nods his head and walks over to your bed, “Can I?”

A soft smile quirks your lips, “You may.”

He sits beside you, the mattress sinking down further. “So when we saw the ambulance and the bus driver all mangled like that…”

“It got my heart rate going,” you say easily. Of course you got lightheaded before even seeing the commotion outside the window. You didn’t feel like getting too deep into your diagnosis. This was a good start.

“It was really scary seeing you get sick like that,” Stiles says honestly, looking down at his hands. “Not knowing what was going on made me feel… like I was helpless to make it stop.”

You turn to him, silhouetted by moonlight. His eyelashes were so long that they were casting shadows onto his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you say gently, placing a hand on his forearm. It made him look up at you. “I should’ve been more honest with you.”

“Is this where I can ask you my one personal question of the day?” his eyes were warm as his voice held slight sarcasm.

You lean into him, “I suppose.”

“If you start feeling faint or if you do faint, what can I do to help? Just so I’m prepared if it happens again.”

You blow air between your lips, “Oh, it’ll happen again. That’s my curse.” You hum as you think, oblivious to how Stiles was unconsciously smiling at your thinking face. “I generally avoid things that would get my heart rate up.”

Stiles scoffs, having an epiphany, “Like a lacrosse game or an after party.”

“Or a crowded lunchroom,” you smile. “But if it goes up regardless, I usually try to ground myself. Like thinking about what my five senses notice. And I hold onto whoever I’m closest to. Doing that and taking deep breaths can control my heart rate.”

“I know a thing or two about that,” Stiles mumbles, “That’s a technique to control anxiety.”

You nod, “You’re right.”

“And if you faint again?”

“First step is to call for help and the second step is to make sure I’m stable.”

You turn to him, and he looks so sincere that goosebumps erupt on your skin. He was taking your words so seriously. Without interrupting your council he grabs the blanket off your bed and drapes it over your bare arms.

“Lay me down and elevate my feet. Make sure I’m not choking on anything. And then if I’m out for more than 90 seconds or I start seizing, then turn me on my side.”

“Why 90 seconds?” he asks.

You pull the blanket closer around you, “Because after 90 seconds then there might be some brain damage or something else seriously wrong.”

He turns his body towards you more, your thighs fully touching. “The nurse today said that you were out for over 90 seconds.”

“That’s why they sent me to the hospital,” you nod, “But they didn’t find any serious damage. I just can’t have any more fainting episodes like that.”

Stiles swallows hard, tracing the outline of your side profile with his eyes. Brow. Nose. Lips. Chin. “Why?”

“Because the more I have the weaker my body will become. The more damage I’ll get. We don’t want that to happen.”

He licks his lips and plays with his fingers, “Thank you for telling me.” He thought back to the scar on your chest and realized that some things still didn’t add up. Craning his neck to look at you, he asks, “That’s still not everything, is it?”

Your eyebrows slant and you look scared for the first time that night. “No.”

Stiles found himself closer to you than he intended, urgency laced into his next words, “(Y/N), I want to know everything. I want to be able to help.”

A sad smile crept onto your face, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

You take a shaky breath, “Because then it’ll become too real. I’m not ready to share that reality yet.” You match his urgency as you express, “This is enough for now.”

Stiles suppresses the instant anger that brought up. He hated not knowing things. “Does anyone else know?”

“The school staff and most parents know,” you say, “Yes, even your dad.”

“My dad!”

You shush him, “It’s a small town and my mom works under him.”

“What about Scott and Allison?”

“Not yet,” you sigh, “But I don’t mind if you tell them now. It was stupid of me to keep it to myself when I could faint at any time around you guys.”

He bites his lip, “When will you be back at school?”

“Maybe Wednesday,” you shrug, “Fainting always puts my family in a tizzy. My parents don’t like me leaving the house until they’re sure I can handle the stress again.”

Stiles was sinking further towards you, your arms now touching along with your thighs. “Is that why you were homeschooled?”

“Yes. I finally decided to not let my problems stop me from living my life to the fullest,” you relish in his warmth beside you, the goosebumps going away. “I decided to go to school, to get a job, to do things my parents and doctors said I shouldn’t do. My heart rate will go up the same way if I get jump scared in my own kitchen. I might as well be out doing something enjoyable.”

Stiles sighs and he was close enough you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I like that.” You smile and cuddle further into your blanket. He felt reluctant to leave, but all the same says, “I should go.”

He stands and walks carefully to your window. “You’re going to miss a wicked history test tomorrow and the ‘hang out’ between Scott and Allison.”

“I thought they were going on a date?” you say, crawling back towards your pillow.

“Nope,” Stiles began to slide out your window, “Lydia and Jackson made it a hang out at the bowling alley.”

“Does Scott even bowl?”

He snorts, “Never.”

“That could only end in hilarity,” you grin, “I’ll text Allison about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Stiles mutters, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Stiles?”

He slips on the roof tiles, “Yep!”

You smile at his goofy face, “Thank you for helping me today. Not everyone would’ve done what you did.”

“I think anyone would be competent enough to cry for help when…”

“No, you coming to check on me. Asking me for details so you can help more in the future. Not judging me for having a problem. No one else has done that for me.”

Stiles nods awkwardly, gripping your windowsill. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

~~~

Wednesday evening you were on a mission to convince your parents that you were well enough to go to school tomorrow.

You stood in the kitchen, soft blue silk pajamas on and fuzzy socks keeping your toes warm. A home speaker was playing songs from your favorite playlist, coercing your body to nod and sway with the beats.

“Are you sure you feel alright enough to be alone?” your mother frets, putting a coat on as your dad grabs the car keys.

You hold up your wrist with the watch, “My heart has been steady all day.”

“Yes, but you don’t know if…”

“Mom!” you cry, “It’s Wednesday. Wednesday is date night. You should enjoy your Wednesday date night. I can make myself dinner and watch a movie before bed.”

Your dad nudges your mother towards the door, “Let her have some freedom,” he teases.

Angela smacks his arm, but keeps moving nonetheless, “You better believe I’m getting my own cheesecake tonight.”

Your father, Tom, gave you a wink, “Let’s treat ourselves tonight, sweetheart.”

And for the next ten minutes you were blissful in making yourself some chicken and rice, green beans on the side. Clad in your softest sleepwear and dancing around to your favorite tunes, it was hard to shift the mood when you receive a frantic phone call.

“Hey, Stiles. Sorry I wasn’t at scho…”

“(Y/N), I need your help,” he says quickly.

You turn away from the stove, “Cutting to the chase, alright. I’m listening.”

Stiles trips over his words, “Y-You work at the hospital right? You have a wealth of doctor knowledge? Like you could tell me a few facts about first aide?”

You lean against the counter, the marble cold under your arms. “Yes… Stiles what’s going on?”

“I might, sort of… maybe have a friend who is… very hurt.”

“Very hurt?”

“He has a wound that just keeps sprouting blood and he’s not looking so hot.”

You hum a ‘uh huh’ as you ponder who this friend might be, “Not looking so hot meaning what?”

“You know, just the general sweating, pale skin, heavy breathing.”

“He must be in a lot of pain then.” You could hear a slam on something metal in the background. Stiles must’ve jumped by how his voice rose an octave.

“Lots – lots of pain. Listen, what might we do to help said wound?”

You go to stir your sizzling chicken, “How does it look?”

“Red and gross and all around a major health code violation,” he felt his chest tighten at your slight laugh. “There’s also these purple veiny things creeping up his arm.”

The smile falls from your face, “That would mean he has blood poisoning. Whatever wound he has is infected and if it reaches his heart then it’ll kill him.”

Someone was rummaging through drawers; you could hear pill bottles flying around.

“That’s good, great,” Stiles curses, “What do we need to stop that from happening?”

“Well, you need to stop the infection with some pretty heavy antibiotics,” you rub at your forehead. “And you need to clean the wound to stop more infection from getting in. And you could put a tourniquet on to help stop the bleeding.”

Some heavy whispering was happening behind Stiles’ hand. Something recognizable was in the other man’s voice.

“Stiles,” you say warningly, “Who are you with?”

“Just some guy,” Stiles replies, moving around, “We’re putting a belt around his arm as a tourniquet now. Thanks for your help, (Y/N).”

A cry of pain was heard through the phone and you hiss, “Are you with Derek Hale?”

“What?! No way… not a chance,” he laughs weakly before growing silent. “Yes, I’m with Derek Hale.”

“What the hell, Stiles – I thought you hated that guy.”

A growl was heard behind him, “Listen, I gotta go. Talk to you later?”

“I’ll be here, making dinner and watching old Disney movies.” You wait for a goodbye, but the line went dead. “That was weird.” And it continues to be that way as you finish making the dinner and grab a soda from the fridge.

You sat on the couch, pulling a fluffy forest green blanket on you. It was quiet and serene as you pull up one of your favorite movies: Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

You weren’t even ten minutes in when there was a knock on your door. Slipping on your thick socks, you skid across the hard wood to the door.

Suspicious, you say, “Stiles… how is Derek?”

“He’ll live,” Stiles says, out of breath and wrapping his jacket tightly around him. “He’s having a chat with Scott right now about the Hale family or something.”

“About the house fire?” you ask, “So now that he’s innocent of killing his sister you’re suddenly buddies with him?”

Stiles had an exaggerated look on his face, “Well, not exactly. He’s still a big scary guy that we got thrown into jail for a day. And now the town thinks he’s some murdering recluse because of the evidence we put against him.”

You couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto your face, “So it was just a favor you helping him tonight?”

“Yeah, it was a hunting accident,” he says casually, as if it were the whole truth. “And he didn’t have any friends to turn to.” He dances on his toes, looking up at the porch light, “While I love chatting out in the cold, do you think your parents would be alright if I hang out here and check on you?”

Leaving the door open, you walk inside, “My parents aren’t here. It’s date night.”

“Right,” he says, closing the door and kicking off his shoes, “How are you feeling?”

You sigh, “I feel fine. My mom is just determined to keep me couped up for the rest of my life.” Without prompting you prepare a dinner dish for Stiles and meet him in the living room, “I’ve only been in school a few weeks, but I miss it.”

Stiles eyes the plate of food with wide honey eyes, “Oh my god, that smells amazing.”

“Come on, I’m watching Atlantis.”

The boy was only too eager to follow you onto the couch. He flops down, staring at his plate hungrily. You share the green blanket, throwing it over his lap. He looks at you with big eyes.

“You said it was cold outside,” you shrug, picking up your plate. Your legs were touching again as the pair of you ate.

Stiles was eating the chicken and rice like his life depended on it, “This is the best food I’ve had in years.”

“You must be in love with it,” you snicker, “Judging by the sounds you’re making.” You laugh as he chokes on his fork.

“No, it’s just…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I don’t eat a lot of homecooked food anymore. My dad and I survive on takeout mostly.”

You push the rice around your plate, “Did your mom cook a lot?”

There was a shift in the air as Stiles continues to eat, but he responds with as normal a voice as he could manage. “Yeah. My dad used to say that… that she would bribe him with a good dinner to get him home from the station sometimes.”

Your voice was warm as you say, “She must’ve been an excellent chef if that got the Sheriff away from his caseload.”

“She used to make this delicious homemade mac and cheese, like fancy mac and cheese…” he made silly hand motions in the air, “Like with the little chopped up green things on top.”

“Parsley?”

He shrugs, but his eyes grew wide and bright, “And she’d serve it on top of a piece of garlic bread with some Italian sausage on the side.” He makes an overexaggerated chef kiss. “It was a masterpiece.”

“Sounds amazing,” you lean back into the couch, leaving your plate on the side table. “Like a fancy kid’s meal.”

Stiles guffaws, “That’s what it was! When I was little the only thing I would eat was kraft mac and cheese with chicken nuggets. She was determined to make me a better version.”

“I would’ve liked to have met her,” you say softly, fixated on the points where your bodies were touching. “She sounds like an amazing person.”

“She was,” Stiles says just as quietly, playing with his food like he had lost interest in it. “She would’ve thought you were sweet.”

You lean closer, intrigued, “Sweet?”

“That was her descriptor word for all things she liked.” He puts his plate aside too, resting against the couch and your shoulder that was so near. “We got a coupon for the arcade? Sweet! My dad picked her a flower from the woods? That’s sweet of him. I’m forced into a sailor outfit for family pictures? He looks so sweet!”

You take a deep breath, “That is pretty sweet.”

Stiles turns to you, startled to see you so close to him. His throat grew dry and his chest felt tight, all words trickling from his brain and out his ears. He never talked about his mom. Not to Scott, not to his dad, not to his pillow – not to anyone. But talking about her to you was… easy.

You were having the quick realization that Stiles had not just brown eyes, but the most glassy brown eyes you had ever seen. Like if sunlight were to shine through the liquid of a whisky bottle. Or if a sunset caught a glimpse of a glistening honeycomb. Or if a campfire reflected off a drop of amber tree sap.

“So…” Stiles clears his throat, not wishing to pull away but very conscious of how high his voice sounds. “You like Atlantis?”

The movie had been playing the whole time in the background.

“Yes! Have you seen Milo Thatch? I’d marry him in an instant.”

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly for an animated man.”

You poke your shoulder into him, “Fictional men.”

“And the appeal is?”

“It’s in the name,” you snicker, “They’re fictional.”

Stiles hums a reply, turning his attention back to the tv screen. “I’ll add that to your case file: only attracted to fictional men and therefore can conclude that she’s never had a real boyfriend.”

“Oh, it feels real though.”

Stiles fought a shiver tickling the top of his spine. He instead readjusted his pants, “I think I’m going to need more research on these fictional men you’re so fascinated with.”

“We’d have a lot of ground to cover,” you sigh, “Seeing as I don’t think you’ll read any of the books I give you, we’ll have to have a lot more movies nights like this.”

“I think I’d be okay with that,” Stiles says with a smirk on his face. His hands were above the blanket you share, lying in his lap and fidgeting with the green fuzzies coming from the fabric he was pulling.

~~~

You sat on the windowsill in the girls bathroom the next day, reapplying your lipstick and combing your fingers through your hair. Allison was readjusting her hairband in the mirror while Lydia fixes her mascara.

“We’re going to have a movie night,” the redhead says, admiring her eyelashes. “All of us.” She turns with a flair and points to the other two. “It’ll be prime time for a little under the blanket action.”

You make a face while Allison coughs awkwardly, “You want to do a double date?”

“Triple if we can get (Y/N) a boytoy,” Lydia smirks.

“I’m not exactly in the market for boytoys,” you say, crossing your arms.

Lydia leans against the sink, “You will when I tell you half the lacrosse team wants to ask you out since you started helping with Coach.”

A nauseous feeling enters your stomach, “I’m not a huge fan of dating, Lydia.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handpick the perfect one for you.”

Allison was all skepticism as the bell rang, “There goes the last of English.”

“And now we can go straight to lacrosse practice!” Lydia claps her hands, “Let’s go shopping for (Y/N)’s boyfriend.”

The trio make their way to the field, each at a different level of enthusiasm, as you see Scott and Stiles in their uniforms. The boys were quick to pull you to the side.

“Why did you skip the rest of English?” Scott asks, “Is Allison okay?”

“We got an emergency text from Lydia,” you huff, “Turns out it was just the regular scheming and gossip.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows, “Like…?”

“Like how Lydia is going to find me a lacrosse boyfriend to match her and Allison’s lacrosse boyfriends…”

Scott and Stiles spoke at the same time:

“I’m Allison’s lacrosse boyfriend?”

“You’re getting a lacrosse boyfriend?”

You roll your eyes, “And with all our lacrosse boyfriends we’re going to have a ‘movie night’ to coverup the sexcapade I think Lydia’s planning.”

Scott was blinking really hard, and Stiles seems to have left on a thought tangent based on the slack jawed look on his face.

You snap your fingers, “I need your help with Lydia.”

“No,” Scott mumbles, “She’s scary.”

Stiles was still lingering on his imagination as he says, dreamily, “You don’t want a lacrosse boyfriend?”

Your hands fall on your hips, “I just don’t want Lydia to conduct a speed dating the lacrosse team weekend.”

“WESTBROOK!”

You close your eyes, “Yes, Coach!?”

Coach Finstock stomps over, clipboard in hand as he struggles to wrap the whistle around his wild haired head. “I need you to register the team for a spring retreat.”

You blink blearily, “A spring retreat, Coach?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s good for bonding and teamwork and… bonding.” He threw his hands up, “We have the funds this year so we’re going out.”

The teenagers share looks as you attempt to get a baseline of knowledge, “What’s our budget? When are the dates? Who do I contact?”

“Everything’s on my desk. Now get to it,” he puts the whistle between his teeth, “The district likes to hear about these things in advance.”

You back away to the locker rooms as you silently plead to Scott and Stiles to handle the Lydia situation. They were frantically whispering back to you, making exaggerated and confused gestures. You could spy Lydia and Allison talking to a lacrosse huddle by the bleachers.

For the next forty-five minutes you handle the paperwork that the principal and district employees emailed Finstock. You create an excel sheet for signups and a budget tracker. You contact a sports summer camp that allows retreats and field trips during the school year. All you need was to pass out permission slips and gather player information.

You were on your way out of the copy room when you spot Lydia on Jackson’s arm, conversing with some players on the sidelines. Scott was playing goalie while Stiles and a few others were doing a play on the field.

“Give me some good news, Westbrook,” Coach grumbles, bending his clipboard to near splintering levels. “Because these dancing monkeys need some incentive to play better than my recently deceased grandmother.”

“I’ve got everything scheduled here,” you say, not even bothering to show all your hard work. The Coach trusts you enough to have it finished. “I just need to get players information.”

“Done. Boys! Get your pansy ballet asses to line up next to Westbrook! Do what she says fellas or you’re going to miss one hell of a weekend retreat.”

A herd of maroon jerseys and shoulder pads stampede towards you on the bleachers. Sweaty, and slightly smelly, boys began to filter past as you write down their names, shirt size, contact information, and give them a permission slip. You could feel Lydia and Allison waiting on the bench behind you.

Lydia’s heel toed boot prods the middle of your back whenever a boy she particularly likes came up.

“Ben Manley,” a blonde-haired, freckled face says. “I like your jacket.”

Seeing as it was a jacket you borrowed from Stiles’ jeep, you smile, “Thanks, Ben Manley. Get this paper signed if you want to come on the retreat.”

He looks a little dejected as he walks past. Another boy comes up, shiny with sweat on his wonderfully dimpled cheeks. His hair was chestnut brown and curly, “Andrew Wickstrom,” he says with a smile, “Thank you for helping Coach. He hasn’t been as manic since you started.”

“I’m glad my hard work is paying off.” You hand him a permission slip as another sharp poke was felt in your back. “Just turn that in within the next week.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). See you in gym.”

Right, gym class that you were a TA in instead of attending. You told the other students that you already got those credits during homeschool, but really you had a doctors note detailing how under no circumstances were you to get your heart rate up.

While others ran laps and did pushups and played volleyball indoors, you graded papers for Finstock from various classes.

Scott and Stiles came next in line. Scott gave a lovestruck wave to the girl sitting behind you while Stiles whispers to you.

“Hanging in there?”

“I think Lydia is making a March Madness chart with eligible lacrosse players,” you hand the boys permission slips. “She’s relentless.”

“You think I’ll make the bracket?” he asks clumsily, his cleats sticking into the grass.

You shrug, a teasing tone to your voice, “She’s very particular about who she adds.”

Stiles hopes he wasn’t hearing sarcasm, or even worse – dislike, in your voice. He was shoved to the side by a much taller boy coming in next.

“Josh Arnett,” he says.

He was broad, darkhaired, light eyed, and currently getting a dirty look from Stiles.

“Hi there,” you say, a little starstruck at the intense eye contact. You immediately recognize him as a narcissistic asshole, one that you’d still gladly kiss and get your heart broken over. He was one that made you think Greek gods still existed. He was one that made dirty look sexy.

And you just said, ‘hi there.’

His smile was killer, “Are you going to be at the retreat?”

You ignore the boot in your back as you fumble over your words, “Probably. Coach has kind of grown dependent on me to function.”

He took a permission slip, “I’ll go if you go,” and he winks. Like full on ‘sent-a-warm-river-of-shivers-down-your-chest-and-to-your-middle’ kind of wink. Your uneven heart patters at the sight of him walking away. Those wide shoulder pads… slim waist… and tight little…

You snap out of it as you realize the boy next to you was doing the exact same thing. Danny Mahealani was gawking as he groans under his breath, “Damn I love being on the lacrosse team.”

You laugh, shoving him away in a playful gesture. Danny was by far one of your favorites on the team. Lydia was right above your shoulder in an instant.

“I think we have our winner.”

“What?” you say a bit breathless, “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Philanderer?”

Allison was choking on laughs as Lydia huffs, “Come on, just a little movie date tonight. You don’t have to see him again if it’s really that bad.”

“You’re just trying to get a hot squad together,” you poke her button nose before you stand. “But you can’t force a healthy relationship on incompatible people.”

“Sure I can,” she scowls, “Jackson and I are still together.”

You share a look with Allison before packing up, “If you two are bringing dates tonight, I might as well bring the one that flirted with me.”

“Oh, please,” Allison crosses her arms, “All of them were being fl…”

“Perfect,” Lydia claps, “I’ll talk with Josh in the locker room.” And she flounces off in her skirts, leaving Allison to walk with Scott.

And Stiles appears at your shoulder, grabbing your leftover papers and the laptop from your hands. “So, has Lydia decided your fate?” He tries not to sound too eager (and/or desperate) to learn about the evenings plans, but he was hovering a bit close as you rub your temples. Your heart rate was a little high since encountering Mr. Philanderer.

“We have a big movie date tonight.”

He holds his breath as he continues, “… slash sexcapade?”

You snort, “I’d rather clean out whatever is festering in Coach’s desk drawers than have a sexcapade this weekend.”

His next breath was deep and tight, “Then who are you watching the movie with?”

“Josh Arnett.” Stiles stuck to the grass while you walk a few steps ahead. “What?”

“You are going to spend the night with Jealous Josh? Judgy Josh? Jockstrap Josh? Forget that last one.”

You giggle, “Yes, I’m going out with Jaw-dropping Josh.” You pull on Stiles’ arm, “It’s just to appease Lydia.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t,” you say, “It’s going to be just a one time thing.”

“But what if he charms you and kisses you and you agree to more dates…” he watches a dreamy look slide onto your face. “Oh my god, you’re thinking about kissing him, aren’t you?”

You open the door to the locker room, full of sounds and smells alike. “It would be a crime not to acknowledge that he’s hot. And I’d have more status by saying I kissed him once.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Because I’m going on a date or because I’m going on a date with him?” You try to keep your tone civil as you’re surrounded by changing lacrosse players.

“Because he’s a douchebag that will probably do something to hurt your feelings and I don’t want that to happen.”

You take all your supplies from him, speckles of anger popping up your spine, “You trying to control who I go out with is a little douchy, don’t you think?”

“I’m not trying to control…” Stiles threw his gloves on the ground, “I’m trying to look out for you.”

“I’m not going to catch feelings for him,” you say indignantly, “I just want to try it Lydia’s way for once. It’s just one date, how bad could it be?” A sudden rush to your head makes you stumble, ramming your shoulder into a line of lockers.

Stiles jumps to your back, hands on your arms as you screw up your eyes. You take a deep breath and force the black spots from your vision. Slowly the voice of Stiles enters your ears.

“I’m fine,” you say, standing straight, “My heart was just beating a little fast.”  

“Because of our argument?”

You turn to the sound of his voice. The previous anger was gone. In its place were fearful honey eyes and an open, honest expression.

“Among other things,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “I’ll see you later.”

Stiles was screwing up his lips, chewing the inside of his cheek, clearly worried as you retreat. “Call me if something happens!”

 ~~~

You wait at your living room window for over an hour. You wait in your comfy blue sweater that’s cute enough for a date and soft enough for cuddling. You wait with styled hair and a little lipstick.

You could feel your parents spying from the kitchen, disappointed that you were being abandoned like this. A pain creeps into your chest that has nothing to do with your heart. It made your stomach twist and your head hurt.

It did not feel good to be stood up.

You text Lydia to give her an update. Her quick reply was that she and Jackson would pick you up and you could pick out the movie together.

You didn’t wave goodbye as you left the house, embarrassed by the turn of events. “I was such an idiot.”

Lydia turns in her seat, “You’re not an idiot, you look gorgeous.”

“I’m an idiot for getting excited about a night out with that jerk,” you play with your fingers. “And I knew from the beginning that he was an asshole, and I still got all ready trying to impress him.”

“No, you got ready because you wanted to feel hot. Remember you were going to one and done him tonight; Josh should be the one feeling disappointed that he isn’t here with you.”

You crack a faint smile, “Where’s Scott and Allison?”

“Oh, Allison’s hanging out with her aunt and so Scott decided to make other plans.”

“Meaning it’s just us three tonight?”

Jackson sighs begrudgingly, “Yep.”

“Then we might as well make it a chick flick night,” Lydia says, cheery despite her boyfriends obvious disdain for the situation. “Let’s watch The Notebook.”

“Absolutely not,” Jackson says, “We are not doing chick flicks just because your friend was dumped.”

Lydia purses her lips, “You’re not making this any easier, Jackson.”

“Yeah, I don’t really feel like crying, Lyds,” you attempt, the video store just down the road.

Jackson starts to ramble about different action and sports movies, “We never choose a movie that I pick. How about Hoosiers? Not only is it the best basketball movie ever, but it is also the best sports movie ever made.”

Lydia was quick with her reply, “No.”

“It’s got Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper.”

You grimace at Lydia’s same short reply. “We can go in and browse for a little bit.” The night was shaping up to be one of the worst by far.

“I am not watching The Notebook again!” Jackson raises his voice.

“Come on, Jackson,” you say, opening the door. “Let’s just go look around for a second. I’ll help pick a good one.”

You walk to the first aisle inside, both of you on edge for different reasons. Jackson makes no effort to make conversation as you peruse the romantic comedy shelves. “She means well. She’s just trying to cheer me up.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry if I don’t want my date ruined by turning it into a girls night.”

You cross your arms, “I’m sorry.”

Jackson scowls at your drawn expression, “Arnett really is an asshole, by the way. I told Lydia as much.”

“Again, she meant well,” you sigh, “But thanks anyway.” A phone starts ringing in the background and kept echoing through the empty store. “Geesh, you would think someone would pick that up by now.”

“Hello?” Jackson calls out, “Is anybody working here?”

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing at a pair of shoes sticking out from an aisle further down. “Did someone fall off that ladder?” The medical assistant in you was already in action, pulling your phone out as you near the shoes.

You both move slowly, tense as the atmosphere gives an eerie flicker of lights. As you round the aisle of movies, there laying on the ground is the store manager – his throat clawed out.

“Oh my god!” you scream, gawking at the blood soaking the front of his shirt. It was fresh and glistening, splattered up onto his face and glasses.

“Holy shit!” Jackson yells, jumping back and onto the ladder. It moves enough that a broken light fixture falls, ripping the exposed wiring and plunging the entire video store into flickering darkness.

One second it’s dull yellow light, and the next an awful red dark, and then light again. It was making your vision blur with spots. You fall to your knees, sickened by the sudden wet warmth that soaks your pants.

Your heart was racing, beating like a war drum as you fought to control your breathing. Jackson was standing in the middle aisle, clearly shocked into silence. You were fumbling with your phone, attempting to dial any number that came up first.

There was a low, deafening growl that ripples through the store. You eye the claw marks on the store manager and immediately think of something big and terrifying. Jackson did too as he falls to hide behind a shelf.

You could hear the growling towards the back, too near for your liking. You shuffle away from the body, aware that Jackson had just left you to fend for yourself. A row of shelves falls behind you as you make your way to the front, crawling on your hands and knees.

You finally manage to dial a number, the first one you could think of. And the sound of Stiles on the other end brought you a sense of relief. He would do something.

“Hello.”

“Stiles…” you whisper, crawling along the front of the store and next to the windows.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

Your breath was shaky and came out in wheezes, “I need help.”

There was a rustling on the other end, “Where are you? (Y/N), you need to breathe.”

A snarling growl came from your left and you dread to turn your head, “Oh god…”

“(Y/N)! Stay awake – tell me where you are!”

But as you turn your gaze to the hot breath and red gaze of the growling creature, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. The giant monster swipes a paw at you, clawing at your shoulder and sending you spinning into the opposite wall. You slam against the brick with a sickening force, a crash of broken glass above you as the creature jumps through.

Shards of glass collect on your body, stinging some of your exposed skin. Warmth was spreading down your left arm as you fought to breathe. Your vision was blurring, and you were falling in and out of consciousness.

Jackson crawls out from under the fallen video shelves and finds you at the front, noticing Lydia screaming in the car. He kneels beside you and pulls out his phone, dialing 911.

~~~

Stiles sat in the parking lot of a burger joint, eating dinner with his father in the police car. He was reminiscent of the homecooked meal you made him, fondly thinking of his mother too.

“Did they forget my curly fries?”

He chides his father, “You’re not supposed to eat fries, especially the curly ones.”

The Sheriff smirks, “Well, I’m carrying a lethal weapon. If I want the curly fries, I will have the curly fries.”

Stiles took his bitten straw out of his mouth, “If you think getting rid of contractions in all your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate, you are wrong.”

His dad gave him a bewildered look, “Somethings off with you tonight. Did you take too much Adderall?”

“No,” Stiles grumbles, picking at his hamburger wrapper, “Just… thinking about school.” He watches his dad’s expression egg him on further, “… and lacrosse… and Scott…” He huffs and throws his dinner back in the brown bag. “And girls.”

The Sheriff scoffs, hiding a laugh, “Just the usual then.”

Stiles felt his phone ring and he was surprised to see your name appear. Thinking you’re going to tell him Josh Arnett is the asshat that they all knew him to be, Stiles says confidently into the phone, “Hello.”

There was a terrified whisper in reply, “Stiles…”

He sat straighter, his dad catching a soda before it fell to the floor. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” You sound like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“I need help.” Your breathing was erratic, and he knew your heartbeat was probably the same.

“Where are you? (Y/N), you need to breathe.” God forbid you faint in whatever terrifying situation you’re in.

There was a terrible growl behind your shaky words, and you sound so small when you cry, “Oh god…”

It sent a thrill of terror through Stiles, “(Y/N)! Stay awake – tell me where you are!” A million scenarios were flying through his mind. Was there a werewolf there? The alpha? What had happened to your date?

There was a deafening bloodcurdling scream as the phone must’ve fallen from your hand. It took Stiles a second to realize that it was you that screamed. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” Your cries flew to the side along with a crash of glass as the snarling beast left.

The line went dead and Stiles fell into a panic, “How do I… where… god, dad we have to find her!”

The Sheriff listens with sincerity as he had watched the entire conversation. “What’s going on?”

“That was my friend, (Y/N) Westbrook. She was supposed be out tonight on a date, but something went wrong. She sounded terrified and then there was a scream and a crash and then… nothing.” His arms were flailing as he sat on the edge of the car seat, “We have to find her!”

“Westbrook?” the Sheriff says, throwing his wrapper to the floor, “You don’t mean…”

“Yes! And I know you know about her heart.”

His dads eyes widen ever-so-slightly, “How do you know about…?”

Stiles slams a hand on the dashboard, half tempted to grab the steering wheel, “We have to go – she’s in serious trouble!”

“Now hang on just a damn minute,” was his reply, “We don’t even know where she is. And before you go flying out the window, let’s think about this with some sense. Do you know where she was supposed to be on her date?”

Stiles whacks his head, as if to jog some memories over the panic, “They were going to watch a movie.” He bounces his leg, pleading with his dad, “Please, dad, she’s going to have another fainting episode.”

The police radio turns on with some crackling feedback. The dispatcher on duty was a man judging by the voice. At least that meant Mrs. Westbrook wasn’t on shift that night.

“Unit One, do you copy?”

Stiles leapt for the radio and the Sheriff slaps his hand away. “Unit One, copy.”

“Got a report of a possible 187.”

Stiles jumps in his chair, shaking the whole car, “A murder!?”

“It’s at the local video store. Some teenagers are involved.”

The Sheriff confirms he’ll be there and felt a twang of guilt as he watches the fear bubble in his son. “Do you have confirmation on how many are hurt?”

“Negative, but the boy on the phone was in a frenzy about an animal attack.”

“Thanks, Johnson.” The Sheriff put the radio up, speeding down the street with sirens blaring. “Let’s not fear the worst, Stiles. They said there was just one possible 187.”

Stiles was biting his lips, drumming his knuckles over his mouth, “I should have stopped her from going out. I knew it was a bad idea.”

The drive was tense and painfully slow despite the speed the Sheriff was emitting. When they reach the video store it was swarming with EMTs and an ambulance. The store window was shattered, and Jackson was yelling at whatever emergency personnel he could. Lydia was huddled in a shock blanket on the curb, and sitting on the edge of the ambulance was you.

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles cries, “Thank you god.” He was falling out of the police car before it even made a complete stop. “(Y/N)!” He ran for the Beacon ambulance.

You were leaning against the side of the car, an EMT bandaging your left arm. You had a few butterfly bandages on your face and a rapidly developing bruise to the side of your head. There were dark circles under your eyes and your skin was ashy again.

“What happened?” he asks, quiet compared to the panic he was in moments ago.

You turn your wet eyes to him, gulping, “Stiles. There… there was a monster.”

“She hit her head pretty hard,” the EMT says, finishing your bandage. “She needs to go home and get some rest.”

Stiles gave the man a nod, gently sitting next to you and giving his full attention. “What kind of monster?”

“It was like a bear or a wolf,” you whisper, exhausted. “I was so scared.” The break in your voice put a hitch in his chest. “Josh bailed on me and then Scott and Allison. And I just wanted to go home.” You turn to him, “I want to go home, Stiles.”

He clenches his jaw, his throat bobbing, “Okay. Okay, we can go home…” He stole a shock blanket from the back and wraps you in it, careful around your left shoulder. “Did you faint at all?”

You stare off, disassociating, “In and out.”

The Sheriff calls your parents as you lean into Stiles. Your head nestles into the crook of his neck and shoulder. He couldn’t put his arm around your shoulders for fear of hurting the new wound. Instead he wraps his hand lower on your waist.

With his other hand he reaches for your fingers, worry still eating away at his stomach. “Where are we on the possibility of fainting right now?”

You groan, “60% chance.”

He gives a painful smile, wrapping his hand in yours. With his fingers he felt for the pulse in your wrist. It was a little high and stuttering unevenly.

“What do you hear?”

You hum, “Sirens. People. You.”

Stiles felt a warmth seeping into his chest, it was loud and suffocating and squeezed at his heart. “What do you smell?”

“Rubbing alcohol. And you.”

He plays with your fingers, tracing them with his thumb, “What do I smell like?” A small huff of air escapes your lips, and he likes to believe it was almost a laugh. “Cause you know exactly how I think you smell.”

You try to clear your throat, “Like sandalwood.”

“I’m not even sure what that is.”

“Like the woods,” you whisper. “Like rain, and trees, and honey.”

“How did you know my favorite pastime was bathing in forest rain and honey?” He imagines the twitch in your cheek against his neck was an attempt at a smile. “What do you feel?”

You fidget in his embrace, “Tired. Pain. Fear…”

“Okay, bad question.”

“Your hand,” you continue, “You’re warm. It’s nice.”

The inflation of his chest was reaching a bursting point, and he laid his face against your hair. Holding you there, he checks your pulse again with his long fingers. It had lowered since his arrival.

Your parents came soon after that, fretful and terrified of your condition. They wanted to take you to the hospital for a full checkup and your grip tightened on Stiles’ hand as his dad took him away.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers in your ear, your parents approaching. “I’ll see you later.”

~~~

It was very late into the night when Stiles climbs the garden trellis to your window. He was delighted to see that it was left cracked open. He pushes it open the rest of the way and falls inside, careful not to make too much noise.

You lay in bed with the lamp on, illuminating the room with its peachy color. You were in midnight blue pajamas with little stars printed on them. Your left arm was stiff and heavily bandaged, painkillers adding to your collection of prescription meds on the nightstand.

“Hey,” he whispers, gaining the attention of your wet gaze. You must’ve been crying for a long time judging by the redness of your eyes. “How was the hospital?”

“I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t believe you. He sat on the edge of your bed, itching to grab your hand again but needing a good reason. “When I got your call… it scared me shitless.” A chuckle escapes him, “My dad was ready to clobber me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” Stiles says, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You did nothing wrong. This was all just a terrible ordeal.”

You sniff, “I’m tired.”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, I just wanted to check on you before bed. I should let you sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

His chest tightens like earlier. He aches to touch you again, seeing you so fragile and tense. “(Y/N)…”

“Every time I close my eyes I see that thing clawing at me.” Another tear escapes your eyeline and runs down your cheek, “I’m too scared to sleep.”

“Well…” Stiles picks at a seam in his pants, “How about you call for your mom? I’m sure she’ll…”

“I don’t want to worry them anymore. I’m tired of making them worry so much.”

Stiles chews on his lip, “Hmm, okay. How about I stay? I’ll just sit at your desk and keep watch.”

You watch him with swollen eyes, “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he shrugs his shoulders, “I’m worried about you too. And I feel better knowing I can keep you calm.” He wasn’t going to tell her that for the last three hours he had been replaying their moment outside the ambulance. The way you leaned into him, and he got to hold your hand and listen to you talk about how nice it was to be next to him.

“I want you to stay,” you say quietly. “But you can’t sit in a desk chair all night.” You pat your uninjured hand on the mattress beside you.

Stiles feels warmth flood his cheeks, “Oh, yeah… well – great.” He sits down and stretches out on top of the covers, “This is a much more comfortable spot to keep watch.”

You pull at your blankets, turning towards him and grounding yourself in his presence. “There’s a squeaky floorboard in the hallway. You’ll hear if my parents are coming.” You place a hand on his forearm, “Thank you for being here.”

His throat bobs at your touch, “Always.” And he lays there well into the night, cursing when your hand falls away in your sleep. He waits for sunrise to leave, occupying himself with watching your breathing patterns and checking your pulse every once in a while. He even brushes the hair from your face and flattens the arm bandages that start to unstick.

He was just memorizing the curve of your nose and the slant of your cheekbone when the sun broke over the horizon.

He sighs, rubbing hard at his face. If this is what having a crush on you was like… it was going to consume him.  

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs

[specialagentlokitty]

Bau x reader - family time

something where there’s a case in readers hometown, and readers mom invited the team over for dinner ?? - Anon💜

It was a small community, so it didn’t surprise you when your mom texted you a few hours after your arrival demanding that you go to her house.

With a sigh, you messaged her back and explained that you couldn’t because you were working, but you’d come by after the case was finished.

After deciding that was too long your mom came down to the station you were working at.

“(Y/N) (L/N)!”

The whole team shot up and spun around, so did you.

“Mom?! Seriously?!”

She grinned from ear to ear, and you laughed softly, walking over to hug your mom, and she held you tightly in her arms.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t come see your mother.” She lightly scolded.

“Come on mom, I’m working I already told you this. How come you’re here? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Pulling away, you led your mom to your chair and sat her down, then leant against the table as you looked down at her.

“You know you shouldn’t be walking so far with that hip of yours mom.”

“Ah my hip is fine, I can still walk.”

You sighed.

“Your doctor told you to take it easy, remember what happened last time? You couldn’t get out of bed for two days without help.”

Your mom waved her hand dismissively at you, then turned to the rest of the team who were watching with curiosity and amusement.

“Who are your friends?”

You smiled at her, letting them all introduce themselves to your mom.

“Wow, (Y/N) never said their mom was such a beautiful woman.” Derek grinned.

“Dude! That’s my mom!”

They laughed, and you huffed a little, turning to Reid who had gone back to working.

While JJ and Emily were asking your mom for any embarrassing stories about you, you walked to your friend, standing next to him.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“I just had a thought. What’s in this area?” He asked.

You looked at the map, and you grabbed his pen, drawing some things on it before gesturing to it.

“This bit is part of the school, just after the river that part is empty, abandoned, I think it used to be a processing facility or something like that, a lot of local kids go exploring in there, sometimes graffiti and stuff that’s about it.”

Reid nodded his head, and he looked over at you.

“I need to go to the first crime scene, will you come with you.”

“Of course.”

Grabbing your jacket, you pulled it on whim Reid spoke to Hotch and you walked over to your mom, kissing the top of her head.

“I need to go, but I’ll come see you after the case, love you.”

“I love you too, be safe.”

You nodded, jogging to meet Reid by the front door.

When the case came to an end, you messaged your mom that you’d be coming after, and she asked you to bring your whole team.

You laughed a little, putting your phone in your pocket.

“Hey, do you guys fancy a little trip?”

“Where to?” Hotch asked.

“Mom wants you all to come for dinner before going, I don’t think we get a choice in this.”

The laughed but eagerly agreed.

Of course the first place Emily, JJ and Derek went was to go and find your room, trying to see if it had changed or not.

You mom had reached out to Rossi to get him to invite Garcia, so it wasn’t long until she arrived.

“Oh I can’t believe it’s your home! Where’s the baby pictures?!” She grinned.

“No!” You rushed you.

Quickly taking the folder from your mom, you held it closely.

“Aw come on! Let us see!” Garcia pleaded.

“Nope.”

“Aw darling you may have been a fat baby but you were still adorable.”

“I wasn’t a fat baby…” you huffed.

“Oh my god were you a fat baby?” Emily asked.

“No!”

Your mom lightly hit your arm.

“Yes you were, let them see.”

She took the folder back from you and you huffed, sitting down on the couch as you stroked the cat that came to cuddle with you.

Picking him up, you held him in your lap.

“I can’t believe you still have fluffy, he’s so old now.” You mumbled.

The old cat purred a little bit.

“Oh my god look at your little grin!” JJ laughed.

She turned the folder to you so you could see the phone of you covered in dirt just grinning from ear to ear.

They were having the time of their lives learning about you and what you did when you were little.

Rossi and Hotch both back back, having been given a box by your mom and set it on the table.

Rossi opened it to see your macaroni you made in second grade.

“A little artist I see.” He chuckled.

Hotch knelt down, taking a few class photos out and paintings.

“Honestly I was expecting more skateboarding or something along those lines.”

“Hotch I was four, the only thing I was interested in was eating dirt and collecting stones.”

They all laughed, and your mom came back announcing dinner was ready, so you went to help her set the table up.

You enjoyed this, just your team and your mom all together, all the people you loved under one roof

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

I’m back in my silly nonsense again and I do have a request, if that’s ok, I seriously don’t wanna annoy or stress you out hun but I do have a specific request in mind.

A sadistic yandere doctor x reader

It starts out simple enough like the reader goes in for a simple checkup and there’s a new doctor taking care of them and it escalates from there, every appointment with the new doctor becomes more unnerving and unhinged until escalating to abducting his “patient” and keeping them to himself

I dunno this sounded better in my head and plus you’re more creative than I am😅 I had this lil idea for a while and I’d figure it was worth a shot to ask, thanks for putting up with my silly shenanigans 😅

CW: Abduction, drugging, obsessive yandere, former bully reader, foul language, trypanophobia and mild iatrophobia

I took this ask and fucking R A N

The line between hatred and love is much thinner than one would like to believe.

(Reader) sat stiffly in the waiting room, staring at their phone while scrolling, not paying attention to anything that passed their eyes. Time was not moving fast enough, and it felt like they were about to have a heart attack while waiting for the doctor, fifteen minutes past their scheduled appointment time. They nearly jumped when the nurse finally called their name, not bothering to offer even a polite grin to the nurse as they were led back to get weighed, praying to whatever was listening that their deodorant didn't fail them. Sweat glued their shirt to their back, but (Reader) refused to take off their jacket.

Going to the clinic was always a hassle, and if it wasn't for the pain in their neck that refused to ease up they would have continued to avoid it like the plague. The nurse brought (Reader) back to an empty room, and left them there again, now waiting on a paper sheet that crinkled obnoxiously whenever (Reader) shifted and was ten times colder than they were in the waiting room. (Reader) took a shaky breath and continued to scroll absentmindedly on their phone.

A soft knock at the door was enough to make (Reader) drop their phone, diving for it as a nurse wheeled in a cart. "Hello, dear, how are we today?"

(Reader) popped back up, flushed. "Peachy."

"Lovely." The older woman grabbed a chart and read over (Reader's) information. "I'm going to take a quick little blood sample and get you checked in for Dr. Campbell."

Their face felt cold with how quickly their previous embarrassment faded into fear. Both at the thought of getting their blood drawn, and in confusion at hearing a new name. "Actually, my doctor is Dr. Kowl." (Reader) tried to correct the nurse.

The nurse smiled brightly. "Dr. Campbell is our newest doctor, he'll be taking over for Dr. Kowl when he retires. Can you remove an arm from your jacket please?"

(Reader) slipped their left arm out for the nurse, holding in their breath and averting their eyes while she pulled out a clean needle. Even if they couldn't see it, just knowing that it was getting closer to their arm sent a rush of adrenaline up and down their body so quickly that (Reader) was afraid it would knock them out. They swallowed a lump of snot threatening to choke them, rolling their eyes back to look at the ceiling as they ignored the tiny prick of pain.

"All done."

The sleeve was rolled down before (Reader) turned their head, a tight grimace plastered on their face. "Great."

"Dr. Campbell will be with you shortly." The nurse's demeanor was warm, but (Reader) couldn't feel it past the cold crispness of her scrubs. Clinic doctors weren't as bad as hospital or ER doctors, but they still were not pleasant to be around.

• 17 years ago •

A chubby boy with dark curly hair obscuring his eyes nervously watched (Reader) from afar, working up the courage to go speak to them. (Reader) had a bruise on their neck, partially hidden by their hoodie, and the young man was worried for the stranger in his high school. Tugging on his baggy shirt awkwardly while shuffling his feet, he made his way to the sad looking teen, struggling not to lose his nerve. "Hey.." he struggled not to stutter. "I was just, uh, wondering if everything was.. okay?"

The look of loneliness and emptiness on (Reader's) face was gone so fast that the boy thought he imagined it, now only seeing disgust and rage.

"The fuck you just say?"

• Present •

A young doctor with wavy brown hair stepped into the room, his downward turned eyes widening every so slightly, a bright, welcoming smile contrasting his surprised gaze, as he entered (Reader's) view. (Reader) was equally shocked, taken back by how handsome their new doctor was. "How are we feeling today?"

Hearing that typical doctor's greeting paled (Reader's) complexion, reminding them that no matter how hot this man might be, he was still a doctor. "I, uh, got a pain. It won't go away."

Dr. Campbell nodded, gently touching (Reader's) jaw as he tilted their head, watching their face carefully as they grimaced at certain angles. "Have we already taken X-rays?"

"Yeah, there's nothing wrong. Urgent care said it was a pulled muscle, I'm just here for a follow up." (Reader) noted how the new doctor searched their eyes uncomfortably; it was as though he was looking for something specific. "Is there something wrong?"

The doctor removed his hands, smiling again, but this time the smile seemed disingenuous, almost melancholy. "I'm sorry, I just.. you look like someone that I used to know." His jaw clenched under his smile. Dr. Campbell swiveled away, rolling to the computer and tapping on the keyboard for a couple of minutes before clicking his tongue. "I'm sorry, (Reader), but it looks like something went wrong with the blood sample we just took. Can you roll up your sleeve for me so I can get a new sample?" He asked while already reaching into his drawer, grabbing a fresh syringe and three vials.

(Reader) sighed, frustration displayed openly on their features. "Really?.."

• 17 years ago •

"Cry, bitch!" (Reader) snarled, kicking the new kid in his ribs. His only real crime was not knowing that, despite the lack of piercings, (Reader) was practically the leader for the high school's most notorious delinquents. The only reason (Reader) hadn't been expelled was because their grades never dropped below an A-, and the school prioritized their placement as the second best school in the country over a few accusations of harassment.

"Hey (Reader), who's your new friend?" Nate asked while sauntering over with the rest of (Reader's) friends.

"Dunno. Hey new kid," (Reader) bent down, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair and yanking his head up, "what's your name?"

The kid could barely speak through his sobbing. ".. Ichabod."

"HA! What kind of name is that?!" Lily cackled hysterically.

"From now on, I think you're going to be my new best friend.. ain't that right, pussy?"

His dark brown eyes couldn't help but fixate on (Reader's) neck as they glared down at him, the bruise shaped like fingers was so dark that in the lighting it looked like it was bleeding. "Well, that's the worse fucking name I've ever heard in my life. No wonder you're such a pussy.

• Present •

"I'm here for Dr. Campbell? I have a twelve-thirty about some blood results?" (Reader) grumpily muttered, pissed that they had to be back at the clinic only a week after their last appointment. Hearing Campbell's name, one of the receptionists smiled, fluttering her lashes and biting her lip subtly.

Her colleague saw her reaction and made a noise of approval. "That new doctor, he's quite the charmer, isn't he?"

"Stop!" The younger woman smiled harder, rolling her eyes. The whole thing made (Reader) grossed out. Yeah, the man was cute, but not when you're on the job. "Besides, he's.. unavailable."

"What? I didn't see a ring on his finger."

'They have forgotten me.' (Reader) puffed out their cheeks and patted their sides loudly, hoping the two medical professionals would get the hint and just sign them in.

"Apparently, he only became a doctor because of his highschool sweetheart. He said he had somebody whose 'attention' he 'wanted'." She sighed dreamily. (Reader) sighed also, but only out of frustration.

"Hey." (Reader) snapped, embarrassing the two receptionists as they looked to (Reader), mouths open like (Reader) was an apparition. "Twelve thirty. (Reader). Is there any paperwork I need to fill out?"

"Sorry! No-"

"Great." (Reader) interrupted the lady, heading over to the horribly uncomfortable chairs a few feet away. However, nearly as soon as (Reader's) butt touched the seat their name was called out, startling them on the speed.

They raised their eyebrows but didn't complain, heading back past the smiling nurses with disdain.

Dr. Campbell met (Reader) in the hall, sneaking up behind them. "Not big on smiling, huh?" The tall man grinned, feeling immense joy at the way (Reader's) face blanched and their muscles tensed.

"I'll smile for some good news." (Reader) forced a smile onto their face, the faux sign of friendliness not reaching their eyes.

He held out a hand as if to say 'after you', directing (Reader) to an open door.

• 16 years ago •

Ichabod couldn't look away from (Reader), studying their shaky visage as (Reader) barely held themselves together, teetering in the corner of the dirty basement. It was interesting, the first real emotion Ichabod had ever detected from (Reader) besides disgust.

Fear.

The group of 'friends' all drunkenly sat around Lily's older brother while he tattooed the minors in his dingy home. (Reader) was trying their hardest not to barf as the gun entered their friend's skin rhythmically.

"(Reader), check it out!" The dumbass child held up his arm, proudly displaying a jagged dog. "What'd ya think?"

"It looks like shit." (Reader) spat. The horror was masked by their hatred, fooling everyone except Ichabod. He stared a little too hard, finally drawing the attention of (Reader).

(Reader) could see by the look in Ichabod's eye that he saw their dirty little secret. Rage buzzed throughout (Reader's) body. "Why don't you give one to the pussy?"

Gasping, Ichabod went weak, experiencing something close to betrayal. He never felt an ounce of companionship from his 'best friend' but he was always looking for something from (Reader), he just couldn't understand what. Nate jumped up, launching towards the group's punching bag with sadistic glee.

(Reader) went blank, as they often did, showing neither pleasure nor anger as their friends closed in on Ichabod. "What about it? Since you're not fighting back, I take it that means you want one?" They paused, almost hoping for a reaction other than fright. But Ichabod was frozen, pleading (Reader) with his large teary eyes.

• Present •

"Fine. Hey Marty, why don't you write-"

"This better be the last time." (Reader) finally opened their eyes, too blinded by their phobia to question why their doctor's face was pink; why his large eyes were half lidded; and why he was smiling at them like they were the most attractive person he's ever seen in his life.

Dr. Campbell shuttered, eyes glazing over as he watched (Reader's) face contort, sweat beading on their forehead as the needle pierced their arm. (Reader) was so focused on not crying that they had no clue the look their new doctor was giving them. Being able to see this side to (Reader) was a privilege, one reserved for best friends.

"This should be the last test." His voice which usually oozed like honey quivered oddly, tickling a memory (Reader) couldn't quite recollect.

"Yeah, well, bit aggravating that both times I've gotten my blood drawn, something went wrong and it needed to be taken again." They pulled on their jacket with a huff. "Arm's beginning to look like a junkie's."

"Well, I do apologize for that. You can schedule your next appointment at the front desk. Your results will be in by next Thursday, we'll discuss them together then."

"Great." (Reader) left the room as quickly as possible, the agitation felt from being trapped in a doctor's office trumping how woozy they were. The nervous adult left the doctor behind, unaware of his erection hidden under his clip board. Dr. Campbell pocketed the blood sample, casually readjusting his pants through his pocket as he did so.

His smirk faded into something haunting, something damn near evil. "Last appointment, huh?" The doctor couldn't help but roll up his sleeve, his hard on becoming almost painful in the position he was sitting. A faded blue ink tattoo fuzzy with age and poor in quality marred his arm like a beautiful blemish.

• 15 years ago •

Cigarette smoke drifted up towards the gloomy clouds, the senior leaning against the fence that separated student and faculty parking lit a new cigarette as soon as the last one finished. Ichabod recognized (Reader) from behind, and found himself incapable of running and hiding, pulled in to his tormentor's side against his will. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of (Reader's) face, one eye completely swollen shut and their skin dark purple. Their one good eye stared at nothing, unblinking and dead.

(Reader) didn't look at Ichabod, knowing there was only one person dumb enough to approach them when they looked like this. No matter how hard they pushed him, he never stopped looking at them with that pitiful sentimentality. "Don't hang out with us at lunch today." Nate failed another history exam, and would be looking for someone to take his anger out on. (Reader) didn't know why they were sparing such a little bitch from getting his ass beat. Maybe they were just bored of him.

Ichabod flinched like he had just been hit, trying to will (Reader) to look at him, to explain themselves.

"Actually.. I'm done with you." They finished off their cancer stick, and dropped it into the gravel. "Stop hanging out with us."

"Why?" It was the only thing he could force himself to say.

(Reader) wondered why themselves. Would a therapist have been able to understand? See past their anger, their disgust? The only reason why (Reader) started bullying Ichabod was because he was new, and no one told him that (Reader) wasn't worth his sympathy. They knew he saw it, the bruise on their neck, and they could see it in his stupid face. And it pissed them off. Everyone knew-

(Reader) wasn't someone to pity.

Watery eyes threatening to overflow shook under the force of his tumultuous feelings as the baby faced young man got in (Reader's) line of sight. Even getting decked would be better than being ignored. But there was nothing in (Reader's) eye. He was invisible to them. "I hate pussies."

• Present •

"So, just a pulled muscle?" (Reader) grimaced, raising their hands in annoyance.

Dr. Campbell smiled, showing off all his pearly white teeth. "Thank God it wasn't something more serious."

"Great." Slapping their knees, (Reader) stood, ready to leave and hoping to never come back again. However, their body was stopped at the door by a strong hand gripping their wrist painfully, a deep scarlet staining Dr. Campbell's face and what was visible of his neck. "What?"

"Have we met before?" His face was smiling but his voice was on the verge of cracking.

"Yeah. Three weeks ago. When I first came in."

Long eyelashes nearly pushed his glasses off his nose. The doctor had (Reader) trapped in his arms at this point. "Are you sure? Are you sure I don't look familiar?"

The rising feeling of anxiety quickly morphed into anger, just as it always did, just like when they were a little kid. It took every ounce of self control they had to not knee the new doctor in the nuts. "Am I supposed to?!" (Reader) raised their voice, clenching their fists, feeling their entire body tense as it prepared to fight.

A laugh escaped him, jerking uncontrollably as he felt himself nearly cum just from seeing the old (Reader) trapped in his arms, unable to escape him, knowing that they were just masking their fear, just like that day in the basement all those years ago. "Thank you.." The look in his misty eyes grossed (Reader) out. "Thank you for not changing."

• 15 years ago •

"What?" Ichabod asked in disbelief. The office attendant spoke clearly but her words just didn't make sense.

(Reader) had been missing for nearly a month before Ichabod had the courage to ask anyone where they went. His tan skin had already begun to heal, the bruises left by (Reader's) shoes and the cuts left from their punches had faded. The only memory he had left of them was the tattoo on his arm he kept covered up. If he ever wore a short sleeve shirt it would be over, the pain would end, but he would also never see (Reader) again, and he couldn't have that.

"(Reader) doesn't go here anymore, sweetheart. They got their G.E.D so they could graduate early. One smart cookie, that one."

'But that's impossible.' Ichabod thought to himself. He knew (Reader), knew them better than anyone else. He was special. There was no way he couldn't have known about this. He was closer to (Reader) than their piece of shit friends, and that's why (Reader) hurt him! Deep down Ichabod just knew that (Reader) only hurt him because he could see them for who they were. No one else knew how scared (Reader) was. No one else cared about (Reader's) home life. Only he did.

Only Ichabod knew how terrified (Reader) was of needles.

Through the tears and spit, hiding his body from his parents so they wouldn't know what was happening at school, lying to teachers when they voiced their concerns about potential bullying, Ichabod had convinced himself that what he and (Reader) had was special. Because only he saw how scared they were. He told himself that it wasn't because no one else cared about the "future criminal", but because he was special to (Reader), and only he was allowed to see them vulnerable. That was a privilege for best friends only.

'Was it because I didn't give them enough attention?'

He walked through the hallway without a limp, without a hunched back, just like a normal student. It disgusted him. The walls were plastered with students' artwork, motivational posters, and recruitment ads. A smiling man in a white lab coat caught Ichabod's attention, pulling him out of his dark emptiness and showing him the solution to his problem.

"I'll make you see me."

• Present •

"Stupid son of a bitch!" (Reader) moved at a fast pace through the parking garage, nearly jogging to their truck. They had been doing so well, such a good job, but one moment in a stranger's arms and their mind was invaded by a voice they hadn't thought about in almost a year.

Their mother's words tumbled from their lips as they fished for their keys, shaking with apprehension disgust. "Fucking coward, fucking pussy, goddamnit, good for nothing-"

The old familiar tingling of adrenaline, the need to punch something.

Reaching their truck didn't provide any relief. The keys they were searching for kept evading their fingers as though they had a mind of their own. In the black of their tinted window another figure approached their reflection. (Reader) angrily whipped around, ready to start swinging. Behind them stood Dr. Campbell, wearing a baby blue short sleeved polo tucked into a pair of black slacks. The collared shirt exposed his muscular arms and accentuated his broad shoulders. He would have been so attractive if (Reader) didn't know what he looked like in a lab coat.

"I'm glad I caught you! I didn't have a chance to apologize in there, you rushed off before I could explain myself."

"Don't make up excuses for being a pervert." (Reader) snarled, ready to lash out like a cornered animal. They still couldn't feel the keys in their pocket.

The man smiled so sweetly at (Reader) that it made them want to bite him. "It really hurt my feelings. I thought that maybe you just didn't remember me." His eyes looked down at his feet, but he wasn't an actor, and (Reader) could see plainly that there wasn't a drop of sadness in the man before them. "But I guess.. I do look different than I did back in highschool."

His right hand reached out towards (Reader) to caress their cheek. They almost smacked him away, but a small, shitty tattoo on his arm drained them of their blood faster than a gun shot wound, feeling their bravado leak out of them so quickly that they didn't have time to remember to be pissed.

(READER'S) BITCH

Before they could recover and throw the first punch the hand clamped over their mouth, and a needle was revealed from behind his back in the other hand.

They struggled, but Ichabod hadn't spent his years in med school working out to impress (Reader). Eyes wide with horror watched the needle approach their neck helplessly, and Ichabod could almost cry at the beautiful sight before him. The fear that only he was able to see, only he was allowed to experience, God he could have fucked them right there and then, but he controlled himself. This had all been planned out, and he couldn't fuck it up just because (Reader) was shaking beneath him so cutely.

The needle went into their neck, injecting a drug to knock them out for a few hours. (Reader) screamed silently into his palm, and he watched as they recognized the adoration in his eyes with terror. (Reader's) keys were pulled out from Ichabod's back pocket, dangling teasingly in front of (Reader's) face as they went limp. "You said you hated pussies." His smile was mocking as (Reader) went dark, unable to stay awake. There was so much they wanted to say. They wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. To tell him he wasn't a pussy, that they were never speaking to him when they called him that.

They didn't understand why he looked down at them so kindly. (Reader) hoped that if he killed them it would be a swift death. They felt that they deserved it after all this time.

What he had in store for them was much, much worse than death.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Sick Call

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pure unadulterated fluff, seriously so fluffy, sickfic, would that we all had someone taking care of us when we were sick I mean come on Word Count: 0.8k

Summary: You wake up sick in the middle of the night, but your doctor girlfriend won't let you go back to sleep without a full check-up and some taking care of.

You tossed and turned in the bed, head pounding. You’d tried to convince yourself it was just a headache, just allergies, just anything except actual illness. But if your aching head, stuffy nose, and chills were any indication, you were really and truly sick. You coughed and pulled the blankets up to your ears, trying to keep warm. Unable to fall asleep, you propped yourself up to look out the window at the lighted coast and the darkness beyond. Your house was too far away to hear the ocean, but you knew it was there. You fell back down on the pillow with a soft groan, pressing your fingers into your temples. Beside you, Amelia stirred.

“You okay, bean?” Amelia’s voice was gravelly with sleep as she turned to face you.

“Yeah. Just sick. Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Amelia’s hand shot out of the dark and wrapped around your neck.

“Ow!” you exclaimed.

Amelia sat up. “Your lymph nodes are swollen,” she observed. She moved her hand to your forehead. “And you’re definitely running a fever.” She sat up and turned on a lamp.

You groaned and squinted. “Jesus.”

Amelia launched herself out of bed and strolled into the bathroom.

“Amy,” you protested weakly. “I’m fine. Come back to bed.”

You could hear Amelia rummaging in the bathroom closet. “That’s what you always say.”

“Yes, but eventually I’m always right,” you called, yawning and propping yourself up on your elbow.

Amelia returned to the room carrying several pill bottles, a wet washrag, and a thermometer. “Open up,” she said, pointing the thermometer at your mouth.

You raised your eyebrows. “Amelia. It’s the middle of the night. I have a cold. This is a little overkill, don’t you think?”

Amelia looked around the room, as if gesturing to an invisible audience that this was unbelievable. “I’m sorry, who’s the doctor here?”

You wordlessly rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. Amelia popped the thermometer in and started opening pill bottles.

“Are you gonna pull the doctor card every time I have the sniffles?” you mumbled through the thermometer.

“Yes,” Amelia said. “Now shut up so I can get an accurate read.”

The thermometer beeped and Amelia removed it, peering at the screen. “102.6,” she read. Amelia shook two pills into her hand and opened your water bottle. “Take these.”

“What is it?” you asked, swallowing the pills quickly.

“NyQuil,” said Amelia. “Drink, like, half that water bottle.” She set the bottle of NyQuil and the thermometer on your nightstand.

You drank obediently, then set the water bottle aside. You watched Amelia watching you and felt a surge of love for her furrowed eyebrows, a tell that she was working out how to solve a problem. In this case, the problem was you being sick.

“Now lay down,” Amelia commanded.

You did as you were told, grimacing as you laid your head back down on the pillow and the throbbing resumed.

Amelia leaned over you from her seat on the edge of the bed, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. She held your head gently, leaned down, and planted a kiss on your forehead. She covered the spot with a cool washrag, letting her fingers linger on your skin a bit longer.

“Thank you, Dr. Shepherd,” you whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Amelia said, walking back to her side of the bed.

Amelia pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer out of her nightstand and squirted some into the palm of her hand.

“Are you using hand sanitizer?” you said, peeking out from under the washcloth.

“Duh. I don’t want your nasty bug.”

“You don’t want to be sick together?”

“Of course not,” Amelia said, pulling up the covers. “I want to be healthy together.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

After a few moments of rustling, Amelia spoke again. “Having established the consistency of the biomarker in a fairly homogenous group of high-risk participants, the broader app–”

“What’s happening right now?” you interjected.

“It’ll take about 30 minutes for the meds to kick in,” Amelia explained. “I’m reading you to sleep.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s so sweet!” You reached over to squeeze Amelia’s thigh.

You couldn’t see it underneath the washrag, but Amelia looked at you with so much love, she thought she might burst. She shook her head and picked up her e-reader again.

“Now, go to sleep and listen to JAMA Neurology.”

You breathed deeply and nodded as Amelia continued reading.

“... the broader applicability of the derived threshold from Oxford Discovery was in a multicenter cohort consisting of a heterogenous group with variable risk of developing PD or related dementia, including GBA1…”

[ak319]

Heyy! Omg I love your Arthur Morgan series so much I’ve reread it so many times alr haha

Here’s an idea/request if your interested 🫶🏽 so this takes place right after part three and reader is getting sick of j doing chores all day and wants to study again to achieve her dreams so tries studying in secret and gets caught? Feel free to alter/add whatever u like 🫶🏽

💌TYSM Ritaa! *HUGGIES*, loved to hear that! Hope you enjoy reading this one too!

Warnings/ MDNI: not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions// I don't condone such behaviour

Wiping the sweat from your brow after chopping vegetables for Pearson, you decided to slip away for a moment’s rest and a quick drink of water. As you sat down, your mind raced through the endless list of chores left to tackle: sorting supplies, feeding the horses-

“(Y/n)! Get your ass here for a minute!”

A sigh escaped before you could stop it. What does he want now?

“Yes… Arthur?”

Without looking up from his journal, he handed you a shirt. “Button’s broken.”

Great. Again?.

“Right.” You mumbled, taking and inspecting it. Unluckily, your disinterest was too evident for him to miss.

Arthur’s gaze lifted from his journal, confusion mixing with mild irritation. “Right what? Fix it.”

“Do you... have to wear it today?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fix it. And wash it too.” He didn’t wait for your answer as you nodded, already bracing for yet another chore.

At this rate, my hands are going to look ancient by the time I’m 30 from all this washing.

You turned to leave, only for his voice to follow you. “Also, bring some coffee.”

“Arthur, don’t drink so much coffee all the time. It’s bad.”

From his cot, he glared, unamused. “What, you a doctor now? It’s only my second cup today.” Before you could respond, Dutch called him over, and he stood, striding off with a parting command, “It should be on the table when I get back.”

Grumbling, you turned to make the damn coffee.

He’ll get it, alright.

These were the times when you found yourself fervently wishing for your brother to get married just so you could be free from the burden of being his maid. But then again, would he even find a woman willing to endure a life like this? God, no, please, give him a wife. ASAP. But then again, you couldn’t help but pray for that unfortunate woman, too, because living here was no piece of cake. Do people even marry outlaws?

"...."

You shook your head and decided it was best to start on the coffee instead of rambling in your head.

⋆⋆⋆

Finally done with the day's work and free from Susan's watchful eye, you made your way to your tent and collapsed, face-first, into the pillow with a satisfied groan. You lay there, savoring the brief solitude, until a gentle throat-clearing sounded just outside your tent. The voice that followed caught you off guard. It was unmistakably Hosea’s soft, friendly tone.

You quickly composed yourself and stepped out to greet him.

"I wanna show you something. Come," he said with a smile, gesturing for you to follow. As he led you around the camp, you couldn't help but notice Arthur's horse was gone.

Thank God.

When you reached a quiet spot, he motioned for you to sit on an overturned crate beside him. "So, I gathered a few books here,” he said, a small stack beside him. “Annabelle mentioned you like reading, hm?"

"I--well..." Your voice faltered. How could you explain that after everything, your heart had shut itself off, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of cynicism? Arthur’s words echoed in your mind,

'Walking with empty dreams is useless. Lazy.'

The books felt like a window to something lost. They reminded you or maybe haunted you, of a past drenched in hope, of that rainy night when it all started to unravel.

"Well? Look, I'm gonna be honest with you," Hosea continued, his voice a comforting blend of seriousness and warmth. "You're a sharp girl, with a damn keen mind and a thirst for knowledge. So why waste your free time when you could read? I’ve got plenty of books you can borrow anytime you like."

You shifted, fiddling with your fingers. "No--I mean...thank you, really, but...it’s just..." The words caught in your throat, but you pushed on reluctantly. "Y'know...Arthur just...doesn’t… I don’t know how he’ll--"

"React?" Hosea let out a knowing chuckle. "Who says he has to know? Read when he's not around, it’s simple. And what’s his deal with you reading, anyway?"

"It’s not like he’s ever said anything specific, but..." You sighed. "I think he worries...that somehow the books will make me cling to the past. And honestly, what’s even the point of reading, really, when this is all I have to look forward to? Living here… forever."

"Now, don’t talk like that." Hosea’s tone softened, his eyes filled with an almost fatherly concern. "We all have different lives and paths, our thoughts and dreams that’ll shape our futures. And I’d like to see you have a life outside of all this, one with more than just survival, you hear me? You think I don’t want that for you? Sometimes I even think about it myself when Dutch is... well, being Dutch." He grinned, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the shared understanding.

"Also, don’t go thinking that being a girl can stop you," he added with a wink. "So… whaddaya say?" He waved the book enticingly in front of you, and any resistance you had left melted away.

"Sure. Thanks a lot, Hosea."

"No problem. And don’t you worry about Arthur, okay?" You nodded, cradling the book close as you slipped back to your tent. The weight of its worn pages in your hands felt like a secret gift. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

⋆⋆⋆

It was just another day when you finished your chores and when you were sure Arthur had gone hunting, you settled into a secluded spot on the edge of the camp, your book propped on your lap, and lost yourself in the words, the outside world fading away.

That is, until someone snatched the book from your hands.

"Hey!" you shouted, startled.

"What’s this, oh, these damn boring books!" John, who was a year younger than you and had a knack for finding you when you least wanted to be found, held the book out of reach with a mischievous grin.

"Can’t you just play with me instead sometimes? I swear I’m so bored these days!" His voice was grating, and you could feel your irritation rising.

You lunged forward to snatch the book back, but he leapt backwards, a teasing spark in his eyes.

“John! This isn’t funny! I’m not free like you all day, alright? I do actual work around here, not out there trying to shoot a rabbit and missing every time, and now I’m relaxing, so stop being a jerk! Hosea would be mad if he found out you messed with his book!”

“Of course, the oldie is your tutor,” he laughed, clearly unfazed. “How about we do something that makes both of us happy? I get to play, and you get your book back.”

Gritting your teeth, you feigned a serious demeanor. With a quick breath, you lunged at him again, your frustration bubbling over. John’s playful stance told you he was ready for a chase, and before you knew it, you were darting after him, laughter bubbling up despite your annoyance.

As much as you wanted to giggle and enjoy the thrill of the moment, there was a lingering fear at the back of your mind, what if Arthur returned early? The last thing you wanted was to be caught in a childish game when he expected you to be responsible.

"JOHN! COME BACK! DON’T GO TOO FAR!" you shouted, but he ignored you, running toward the small lake that fringed the camp. You had no choice but to follow him, anxiety bubbling up inside you, not just from the chase, but from the thought of losing that book. It wasn’t just some random novel, it belonged to Hosea, and you couldn’t let him down.

“Here, take it!” John taunted, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he threw the book into the lake.

“JOHN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, your frustration boiling over as you watched the book sink beneath the surface.

“GO GET IT! HURRY!” You shouted, while John stood reveling in his victory.

“I don’t know how to swim!” He shot back.

“FUCK YOU!” But you knew you couldn’t let Hosea down. You couldn’t let that book be lost.

With a determined breath, you dove into the lake, plunging into the cold water. Your heart raced as you fought against the initial shock, remembering the few basics your dad had taught you when you were ten. You focused on the glimmering book sinking just out of reach and swam deeper, stretching your fingers to grab it. That's when John realized that maybe he went too far and kept calling your name.

Finally, you managed to wrap your hand around the damp cover. Kicking off the bottom, you propelled yourself upward, gasping for air as you broke the surface, the book clutched tightly to your chest.

"(Y/N)...I am sorry..." He stammered when he saw the look of absolute rage on your face. He knew he was going to be dead if he got in your hands.

The moment John took off toward camp, you bolted after him, fury blazing in your chest. He’s going to pay for this, you clutched the soaked book tightly in one hand and narrowed the gap between you. You could hear his frantic apologies as he dodged between trees and crates, but you weren’t letting him off so easily. This time, he had gone too far.

As the camp came into view, you spotted Arthur’s towering figure near the fire. He was leaning against a post, arms crossed, a dark look already on his face as his eyes landed on John racing toward him with you close behind.

“Oh, shit…” you murmured under your breath, your heart pounding even faster. You slowed your pace, watching as Arthur’s expression shifted from mild irritation to intense, unfiltered anger. John stopped short, nearly tripping over himself as he came to a halt in front of Arthur, his face pale.

“Arthur--uh-- I was just--we....” Arthur cut him off, his voice low and deadly calm. "What? Messin’ around, huh?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, shifting to you, drenched and clutching the wet book. His voice dropped into a growl. He directed a sharp glare at John. “Looks like more’n that to me.

John’s face drained of colour. “Um-we were just--playin'” he started backing away under Arthur’s icy stare, but Arthur grabbed him by his ear and pulled him closer, making John let out a burning wince.

“Listen here, you little idiot,” Arthur snapped, taking a step closer until John practically shrank under his gaze. “You ever pull somethin’ like this again, you’re gonna find yourself missin’ a few teeth, you understand me? Stay away from her.”

John nodded frantically, too scared to speak, and when Arthur jerked his head in a silent order to leave, John took off like his life depended on it.

Arthur’s eyes turned to you, his face darkening. His gaze swept over your soaked clothes, the way you clutched the dripping book like it was something precious, and his jaw clenched.

“Care to explain why you’re drenched head to toe?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation.

You swallowed, choosing your words carefully. “I…just wanted to get the book back.”

Arthur raised a brow, unimpressed. “And what the hell were you doin’ with it in the first place?”

You stammered, caught off guard, and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He reached out, grabbing your arm firmly, pulling you closer. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sneakin’ around to read like a fuckin princess,” he muttered, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief. “That why you’re makin’ trouble?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already fuming. Before you could get a word out, his grip tightened, and he gave you a hard, reprimanding shake. “You think jumpin’ in the damn lake’s a smart idea? Riskin’ yourself over some dumb book!? Are you fucking serious?”

“Arthur, it’s not-” you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a sharp slap across the cheek, the force of it blurring your mind for a few seconds, sending a shock through your whole body. You touch your cheek, trying to keep the hurt off your face and shield yourself from another one.

“You’re makin’ my life harder with this reckless nonsense, thought' I made it clear that there ain’t no use for fillin’ your head with fantasies out here. You need to learn what’s important here. Don’t forget your place. Also told you to not wander off! There are all sorts of dangers out there!”

Your voice was broken but you still managed to retort, "It's...not just fantasies...why can't you get it-" He threw the book from your hands, irked.

“Watch it,” he snarled, gripping your chin with bruising force, his face close, dark eyes simmering with anger. “You think I got time for this nonsense? Next time you got free time, you spend it doin' somethin’ useful, not messin’ around in places you don’t belong.”

But before he could go any further, Hosea’s voice sliced through the tension like a whip. “Arthur! Enough!” Hosea’s tone was sharp, urgent, as he stepped forward, grabbing Arthur’s arm and prying him back. “Have you lost your damn mind? Let her be!”

Arthur jerked back, breathing heavily as he let go, his jaw tight with frustration. He shot you a look that still held that smouldering fury but kept silent under Hosea’s watchful gaze. The older man placed a protective hand on your shoulder, guiding you behind him, his face set in a firm, disappointed scowl as he looked at Arthur.

“This isn’t how we treat our own,” Hosea said quietly, the warning clear in his voice.

"I will treat her however I want, so shut it, old man! She jumped in the fucking lake for a damn book!" He turned back to you. "If I ever catch you slackin’ off with one of these again, or doin' such stupid stunts, there’ll be hell to pay. You hear me?" You nod quickly, too scared to even meet his gaze, swallowing back any retort.

He muttered under his breath and turned sharply, stalking off into the woods, leaving you standing there, shaken but grateful for Hosea’s intervention.

“You alright?” Hosea’s voice softened, his eyes filled with concern as he watched Arthur disappear.

Though your throat felt tight, you nodded as your hands still clung to his coat. “Hm.”

“Don’t let him get to you, you do a lot more around here anyway, more than anyone I would say,” he murmured. “He...he's just afraid. But you...don't have to be."

You tried to smile through your tears, though the sting of Arthur’s slap still lingered, and you knew it would for days to come.

Hosea gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder, noticing the way your gaze lingered on the soaked book. “I see the book’s wet, but it’s alright. There are plenty. I’ll buy this one again for you.” His tone was warm, reassuring. “Now, go change before you get sick.”

You managed a small nod, before hurrying to the privacy of your tent. As soon as you stepped inside, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you. You sank onto the cot, clutching the damp fabric of your clothes, and let the tears fall, the frustration and anger pouring out in muffled sobs.

Everything, Arthur’s fury, John’s reckless prank, the guilt over Hosea’s book, hit you all at once. The tent felt like the only safe space at that moment, the only place where you didn’t have to hold back. Perhaps, it's better if you don't read, maybe Arthur is right...but Hosea's hopeful words rang in your mind. You buried your face in the pillow, letting out everything, all the confusion, anger and pain that was clawing you from inside, draining yourself.

[hidden-for-reg]

July 5: burnt | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 1,284

*LAST PART in surgeon x patient au*

previous part, part one

James was embarrassed. So embarrassed. He had walked into Regulus' room without knocking. Again. He wore his cockiest grin and his confidence oozed off of him in waves. He planned to make a move today. Yet, when he sauntered into Regulus' room, the first thing he saw was another man sitting in his lap, cradling his face. Then, the 4 faces of 4 people in the room turned to look at him all at once. James' eyes were drawn to Regulus though. 

James felt his face pale. His eyes snapped to where he saw Regulus' hands resting on the other man's arms. The other man was still holding his face. James could have screamed just then. But, thankfully, he didn't.

James couldn't believe it. Because of course Regulus already had a partner. James hadn't even asked before he started flirting with him. He was a little taken aback from how much seeing this other man affected him. I mean, nothing had happened between him and Regulus yet. They'd just flirted a little. That, however, did not stop James' heart from plummeting straight to his feet. He probably should have expected it though. Regulus was attractive. But, James always went into things with little to no plans, and that almost alwaysended with him getting burnt.

"Woah," the other man on Regulus' lap exclaimed, turning around fully to face James, "who's the Adonis that just walked through the door?" The other man smirked and bit his lip playfully. James looked at him, and instantly hated him a little bit for being decently handsome. James then instantly hated himself for hating the other man.

"Alright, that's enough out of you," said another man, with a mess of blonde hair and dark, slightly sun kissed skin. "Get up off your arse, dollface," he purred to the other man, who was now scrambling off of Regulus.

The other man shoved Regulus' face back his hand and barked out a laugh when Regulus promptly shoved him off. "Ugh, Barty, seriously?" Regulus groaned.

Barty. That was the other man's name. Barty. Huh.

James came to quickly when he realized that he ought to introduced himself to Regulus' visitors. He flashed a polite smile to the other visitor, who hadn't spoken. She was quietly standing by Regulus, and she was holding one of his hands gently, clutching her purse in her free hand. James cleared his throat and spoke, "Hello, I'm Regulus' doctor. Dr Potter, but you can just call me James." He smiled at them all.

The woman holding Regulus' hand was the first to respond. "Hi, James," she replied kindly, smiling back at him. She had the same dark skin and blonde curls as the other blonde man, except she had her hair woven in braids. She extended a hand toward James, which he met halfway. "I'm Pandora."

"Oh, and I'm Barty!" Barty also put his hand out for James to shake, reaching over the bed. As soon as James clasped his hand around Barty's to shake it, Barty blurted, "I'm the best friend." Barty grinned. "He's mine." Barty's eyes glinted madly, and for a second, though James would never admit to it, he felt scared. He let go of Barty's hand.

"Barty." James looked at Regulus when he heard his sharp voice. Regulus wasn't even paying attention to James. He was caught up in swatting Barty with the back of his hand. "Mate, you've got to stop acting like my crazy, possessive ex."

"Reggie! We've been over this! That is exactly-"

"Love." The blonde man spoke up, glancing down at Barty, who was shorter than him by a few inches.

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Barty scoffed and rolled his eyes. His face visibly softened, though, when the blonde man put an arm around him.

The blonde man nodded to James politely. "And I'm Evan."

James grinned at them all. Despite the fact that Barty was absolutely bonkers and the fact that Regulus liked that and was dating him, James thought that the 4 of them looked like a little family. 

He cleared his throat. "Um, actually, the reason I've swung by is that I've got to start getting Regulus prepped for surgery. You all can say a quick goodbye, but then, our nurse, Dorcas, can show you to the lobby. The surgery is only about 2 hours, but the anesthesia will take a while to wear off. I recommend coming back tomorrow morning as most patients are pretty out of it after being on pain meds and anesthesia and all that stuff," James explained simply. 

As soon as James was finished, Barty swooped forward and hugged Regulus. He was sure there was no way Regulus was breathing in an embrace that tight but the look of annoyance of his face was priceless. "Don't die!" Barty stood up again. "I'll have no one to torment! But seriously, Reggie, you are not allowed to die." Barty's eyes started tearing up and he sucked in a harsh breath. 

"Good Lord," Evan mumbled under his breath, enveloping Barty in his arms. "See ya, Reg," he said in a normal tone, leaving the room, bag in hand, holding up a now sobbing Barty.

"Bye, Baguette," Pandora cooed in her airy voice, kissing Regulus' forehead, then leaving.

James quirked up an eyebrow at Regulus when the door shut. "Baguette?" 

Regulus groaned. James felt a tingle in his stomach at the sound. He internally chided himself. No, bad, James, bad. 

"She calls me Baguette and calls my brother Croissant because we're French," Regulus explained, rolling his eyes. He wore a smile on his lips though. Regulus shifted his ocean grey eyes to James and scooted over in his bed to make room for him to sit.

James gulped and shook his head hastily. Cleared his throat. "Ah, no, thank you," he mumbled. "Reg, I wanted to apologize for flirting with you. It was unprofessional of me and I didn't realize you were already involved-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Regulus snapped. "What do you mean 'already involved'?"

"I-uh-Barty isn't your..?" James trailed off, then chided himself again. This time it was for not finishing his own sentences.

"No," Regulus said, lips pursed. "He's my ex, but he's also my best friend. And he's very touchy and lovey dovey. Evan is his boyfriend."  After a moment of horrifying silence, Regulus blurted, "I think they're going to get married soon."

James couldn't bring himself to respond. He felt a million times more embarrassed now for some unknown reason. 

Before he could string together another apology, Regulus' hand darted out and dragged James down to sit on the bed next to him. Regulus stared right into James eyes, a million emotions swimming through their murky depths. Then, with no warning whatsoever, Regulus cupped James' cheek and pecked him on the lips. 

James' eyes closed and he brought a hand to Regulus' back. His lips were so, so soft. His hand was warm and held James' face with so much care he could melt on the spot. He leaned in, expecting more, and when he was met with nothing, he opened his eyes. Regulus stared back at him, a centimeter away. Regulus had pulled back from him faster than he had rushed forward to him.

Regulus' face flushed madly and he turned away from James. 

"Get me ready for my surgery, James."

"Okay, love."

Regulus turned back to face James. This time, James was the one bringing his hand up to cup the other man's face. 

James anticipated what Regulus was going to say and before the words left his mouth, James murmured softly, "Don't worry, everything's going to be just fine, love. I'll make sure of it."

[bandgie]

An Uncertified Doctor

Alucard!smut x fem!reader, my man doesn't get enough attention :(((

synopsis: After an argument with your father about the nightly attacks and his reckless behavior, you find yourself in face with a demon who wants nothing more than to cause you pain. The curse you're given is brutal, needy, and utterly horrid. It's not until a man by the name of Alucard saves you, but at the cost of what's left of your dignity.

content warnings: blood, demons, corpses, drugging, cursed reader, fingering, it get super sticky here, blood, medicine play????, restraints, PIV, some light body mutilation (reader gets slashed across the arm), pullout method (USE PROTECTION PLEASE), oneshot

word count: 7.2k (went a little crzy)

Prologue ~

The children held each other as your mother continued telling stories of monsters. You had heard these a million times, your tiny fingers finding the prickly grass beneath you much more interesting. It was scary the first time you were warned of the beast in the castle, it's thirst for blood. You had cried, much like how the other children cried right now. Begged your mom to not let this monster get you, kill you.

"No!" one of the children cried, making you stop pulling on the grass. "I don't want the monster to drink my blood!" More children started protesting against their invisible enemy, crying and screaming. You turned to your mother, seeing her hide back a smile.

"And it won't get you," she promised, her voice gentle. "You must stay within the village, never venturing too far. And you also must listen to your parents. This monster loves eating naughty children."

That's how you knew this story was meant to scare children into listen to their parents. It become obvious when you did something wrong or bad, they would threaten you with the same blood-sucking demon. Do you want to go to his castle?! Your dad had yelled. I'll drag you there and he'll keep you instead!

The other children began making promises of being good, submissive to their parents. You had a frown on your face, perhaps you were the odd one out. You had a bad habit of not listening to authority, taking things into your own hands. A small part of you thought these stories were made up for you, to make you listen.

It didn't take long for the children's parents to arrive, picking up their terrified children. You watched as your mom went to the parents, most likely to explain why they were so upset. You stood on your tiny legs, walking to eat the remaining snacks that were left over from the school session.

"Ah, sweetie you can't eat too much. Save some room for supper," your mom said behind you. You only laughed though, shoving the remaining goodies into your mouth as you ran. Your mom chased you, bursts of giggles escaping your lips as you let your stubby legs take you as far as they could go.

You squealed when she grabbed you, pulling you up in the air. "No fair!" you screamed. "You're bigger than me!" Your mom only laughed and held you in her arms. You secretly wiped your dirty hands on her shirt, but it was far too obvious to go unnoticed.

She let out an irritated groan and yelled your name, "You know better. Do you want to monster to come get you?" Your giggles quickly died down, your mood turning sour. You huffed and crossed your arms, looking away from your mother, "Monsters are not real! That doesn't scare me."

She tsked at you, setting you down on the grass gently. "Love," her voice was serious, in a way that made you stop your attitude and listen intently. "Monsters are more than demons from the underworld. There are monsters here, on the very dirt you and I walk on. They will hurt you and take you from your family if you wonder too far., if you keep disobeying your family. Do you understand?"

Your small body trembled at her seriousness. Despite being at a young age, you knew that not all people were nice. "Bad men," you whispered, eyes wide. Your mom nodded, seeming satisfied with your answer. "Yes," she said. "Bad men."

She picked you back up and took you inside your small house, your dad already setting up the table for dinner. It stuck with you though, her words, your genuine fear. Even after you had grown, after real, hell-born demons began walking the Earth after the wrongful death of Dracula's wife...

The real demons were human.

Present ~

Your village was in shambles, buildings were half torn down, the smell of death and rotting bodies was pungent, blood painted the ground and walls. Still, your dad tried to make a defense team. A group of men that would fight back against the demons, losing most of the time. You know this was in vain, no mere man could win against a devil's spawn. Your dad was determined however, especially after your mothers death.

You hated how injured he was when he came back home, blood dripping at an alarming rate as you tried to patch him up. Resources was another issue the village, it was depleting. You had to settle for using an old cloth to bandage his wounds, ignoring how your dad said to save any clothes for the upcoming winter.

You sat him on the chair, wrapping the cloth around his arm when tears started to prick your eyes. You sniffed, trying to ignoring the way you wanted to yell at him to stop, to stay safe. You and him had argued about this for months, both of you too stubborn to see the other side.

Still, you cried. Sobbed as you tightened the 'bandage.' Your dad frowned when he saw your tears, using his good hand to wipe them away. "Why are you crying?" You scoffed at his question, anger replacing your sadness.

"Why am I crying?" Your voice is clipped, almost aggressive. "Look at yourself! Your putting yourself in danger, your putting all those men with you in danger! You're going to get yourself killed out there! Do you not give a shit about if you die?"

"Do not speak to me with that tone. Do not curse at me," your father rose he spoke, an attempt to establish the power he has. Before you would have listened, apologize for stepping out of line. Now however, there's nothing to lose. There's not much joy in this house, your dad turned destructive after seeing your moms cold body. Her death changed both of you.

"I will do what I please!" You yelled, standing on your tippy toes to be the same height. "You do! Going out there in a suicide attempt. You don't give a fuck about anything anymore! Not yourself, not this house, not me! I'm your daughter! You're supposed to protect me. You're supposed to stay with me, not those damned beasts!"

You voice was strong, thick with emotion. Tears spilled down your face, hands trembling as you spoke. Your dad was growing angry, you could see how his face turned red and eyes grew dark. "I am protecting you," he argued. "After this village is rid of Dracula's demons, we will-"

You laughed bitterly, interrupting his sentence. "There is no end to this hell," your voice was calmer now, still laced with venom. "I'm not a stupid little girl anymore. It's clear to see that God has abandoned us, there is no way to rid of Dracula's beasts."

Your dad breathed deeply, stepping away from you in an attempt to clam down. You stayed silent as he collect his composure, his thoughts. "Do not speak about the Father is such a way," he warned. "This is a test, a way for the Messiah to see if we really are worthy of walking through heaven's gates."

The church? Your dad has the nerve to preach the church's message when they're the ones that put you in this mess? "You are a fool," you spit, ignoring how your dad balled his fists. "The priests are the ones that caused this havoc. They are the reason mother died."

"Do not!" Your dad yelled, screamed. No matter how upset he got, he never yelled. Sure he raised his voice, but shouted? Never. You jumped, taking a step back as he approached your form. You lowered your head down, shame fogging your thoughts. You went too far.

"Don't you dare speak her name on your mouth. You disgrace me by using her death as an excuse for your temper." Your weeps resumed, looking at the darkness in your dad's eyes. An excuse? You would never. If anything, he was the one using her death to act reckless. You can't keep being in this house, surrounded by the memories of your happy family, what your life was.

What it will never be again.

You pushed him hard, shoving him onto the ground as you ran out of house. He screamed your name, shouting at you to come back. You ignored him, you ignored the bodies you passed, the violent sobs that wrecked you. It's too much to stay here, to endure all the emotional turmoil you have to go though.

So you ran, barefoot. You feet grew wet with the mud and blood mixed. You ran through the gates that kept your village somewhat protecting, ignoring the men on guard that yelled at you. You ran until you couldn't hear them shouting, you ran until the village was nothing but a blurry image in the distance. The grass was soothing under your feet, wiping away some of the wet essence on there. You clutched at your chest, heaving.

Your chest burned, your feet ached, your mouth craved water. You kept pushing forward until you saw a stream. No longer able to keep yourself up, you collapsed, crawling to the water until you were submerged in it. You bathed, drank, and nearly drowned in the stream. Your clothes were drenched, but that didn't matter. They would dry, like your tears.

It had been so long when you had last bathed properly, when you drank clean water. Your dad was coming back home with filtered water, mud still seen in the cups. But this water was clear, it was so easy to see the fish that swam within it. You laid in the water, letting it engulf you with just your head peeking up.

You will have to make your way back home soon, you can't be exposed in the wilderness like that. Demons did not rest, they were active at all times. It's a wonder how you didn't notice any on your way here. The thought of going back home however, was dreadful. You couldn't face your dad, you can't keep pretending like everything is fine and he will be safe. Something needs to change, but what?

You sat up, head thinking of ideas. Prayers do not work like your village had thought. Holy water however, was the real savior. Smaller demons would bursts into flames, bigger ones would be severely wounded. If only the priests at your village weren't cowards, hiding in their sanctuary.

While you were deep in thought, you didn't notice a demon perched on a nearby tree. It watched as you as you stood, water dripping from your clothes. Demons were not dumb creatures, though same acted without thought. They had some intelligence, the ability to plan and strategize. This demon was quite intelligent unfortunately for you, salvia dripping down its lips. It craved to tear your flesh, to drink you screams and break your soft bones. It had a bad habit of playing with it's food.

You walked out of the water, squeezing the parts of your loose dress at the bottom. It wasn't until you heard the soft thud that you looked up, skin prickling in fear as your eyes scanned for an enemy. Then you saw it, a man. He had purplish hair, skin deathly pale, eyes red as blood. You knew his human stature was a way to lure you in, to trust him. This 'man' was a demon.

"Stay back!" you cried, arms out in front of you to keep a distance. "Go back to where your came from, demon!" Your voice shook, eyes watering in fear. It laughed at you, stalking closer.

"That's not very nice," it says, smiling. "I feel hurt by your words, come comfort me." It opens its arms as if it expects a hug, you make a disgusted face.

"Fuck off!" You shout before you run, not caring what direction you're going it. It laughs again, mouth puling back to reveal absurdly sharp teeth. It chased you, letting you tire out before you slowed. It would be easy to take you somewhat compliant.

It tackled you on the ground, rolling on the grass until you were dizzy. It laid on top of you, red eyes sparking in excitement.

"Vermin!" You screeched, arms and legs kicking. "You evil fuck! Get off me!" It caught your violent attempts, easily using one of its hands to hold both of your own above your head. It's weight heavily settled on your stomach, giving you legs no access to kick freely at him.

"I'll kill you!" You threat, knowing how impossible that is. This makes the demon laugh uncontrollably, just for a moment forgetting it's sinful desire to defile you. It used its free hand to wipe a joyous tear, shaking its head.

"Quite the jester are you!" it says excitedly. "You will be fun, but refrain from calling me such cruel names. I am Magnus." You spit in its face, not caring how some of the salvia drips down on you.

"I don't give a shit what you are called, demon," you speak maliciously. "I have to respect for monsters like yourself." It frowns then, wiping the slobber off its cheek and sighing.

"You know, I thought I would enjoy touching your body. Seeing you submit to me in the vilest way possible. However, I think I should just kill you. Painfully," Magnus almost looks sad as he speaks. He sounds as if he didn't really want to hurt you, but you can see the disgusting smile on his face.

Magnus uses his free hand to grab you face, making your lips pucker and shape and 'o' form. Before you have the chance to protest or scream, he spits. You think it's way to get revenge for spitting at him earlier, but he perfectly aimed for the inside of you mouth. On instinct, you swallow. You grimace at the thought, the way is slide down your throat, how sweet it tasted.

You've heard of this. Demons that take advantage of women in the night, ripping their bodies once they're done. Survivors had told stories of the drool. The way the demons saliva was able to make the women crazed with need, make the obedient. You shuddered, you knew his kind. An incubus.

You hated how hot your body got, the desire that pooled in your stomach. Your body was still soaked in water, but you can feel your folds begin dripping in arousal. You shook your head and cried, whimpering at how you body was betraying your throats. You were all to aware of his skin on yours, his body weight pressing down on you. You craved for something to be in the deepest parts you, places you had never bothered touching after the world went to shit.

Magnus smiled as he watched you pant, eyes going wild with hunger. He was not going to give you pleasure, instead he was shred the skin off your meat, make you watch he stuffed his face of your tender muscles. You would only moan he hurt you, your brain would be too far gone to know the difference between pain and pleasure.

Your cunt though, he would not touch that at all. You would soon beg, not caring if he actually devoured your pussy. You would be craving just for someone to touch you there, to penetrate deep inside you. Magnus's fingernails sharpened, dipping his hand to your arms as he sliced the skin. You cried out, blood welting at the wound. He leaned down and licked, moaning at your taste.

"Someone's not a virgin," he muttered. Magnus thought for a moment. He was planning on taking your innocence, but now he's thinking of just fucking you cruelly. That would go against his point of torturing you, he wanted to deny you pleasure in any way possible in the most horrible way.

He sighed, torn between the two options. It was tempting, so tempting to cup your mound, take what little dignity you have left of yourself. Magnus watched as your face contorted in discomfort, fighting the aphrodisiac saliva that traveled in your throat and gut. He wanted to see it twist is pleasure, then rip it from you. Have you crumbling and breaking under him, begging him to stop while secretly wishing he wouldn't.

Before Magnus could choose, you cried out, hot tears falling down your face as you couldn't stop yourself from moaning. "Kill me," you croaked. He was used to this, it wasn't often, but some maidens would beg to be killed before fucked. "Just kill me already," you continued to weep.

The demon smiled, happy with your reactions and sorrow. "No, I quite like it when you beg."

Just as Magnus was going to slice the skin of your stomach with his nails, a large dog appeared, quickly knocking him down to the ground. Your body was released from the demons body weight, you cried in relief and distraught. It took so much strength to sit up, to ignore the aching in your body from running and the demon's drug.

Your unfocused eyes caught a glimpse of a white wolf and Magnus fighting. You groaned as you tried to stand, willing you legs to bend so you could place your weight on them. You were on your hands on knees, feeling disgusted at the drool that seeped down your legs.

You could hear them yelling, Magnus was talking to the animal like it could understand him. You wobbly stood, stop slightly hunched over as you trudged away from the fight.

Left... right... left... right... You walked slowly, trying to build the strength to continue. You should not have yelled at your dad, cursed him and his beliefs. The last thing you will have ever done with him is fight. Tears pricked your eyes again, the burning passion in your body was no match for the pain in your heart. If it's not Magnus that will kill you, it will be the wolf.

The ground rumbled, shaking so violently you feel to your knees. You yelled in frustration, it took so much just to stand. You can't possibly do it again, not when the loud sounds of punches and the pounding of your head rings. Not when your body violently shakes with need, with desire. You hate it, how you go limp on the ground. How your shaky hands find their way between your legs.

You needed something to soothe the ache. It was unbearable, it was inhumane. You placed your hand over your clothes cunt, moaning touch. You're disgusting, you're vile. You're succumbing to the demons liquid, his drug. It's not enough though, not with how tired your entire body is. You wanted more, no, you need more. Your eyes start to close, body shutting down from the deathly arousal your experiencing.

You miss how the white wolf managed to rid Magnus, having him flee from both of you. It moved to you, shape-shifting as it did. There stood a tall man, long limbs with blonde hair that reached his torso. He carefully picked you up, ignoring the lewd sounds you made when he touched you. You were unconscious, but your body was acting as if it was awake. Your sleepy hands gripped, grabbed, and clutched his body, trying to get closer to him.

The man let out an irritated sigh, eyes closing before he walked with you in his arms. He was dreading the thought of dealing with you and the aphrodisiac, but he took you nonetheless.

"This will be such a hassle," he mutters.

~

Three days. You have been in excruciating pain for three days and who knows how more to go. You were informed by the blonde man who saved you, Alucard, that you were cursed. It was a common one succumbi and incubi used for their victims. It was supposed to drive the person insane with need for an undetermined amount of time. It was painful not being touched, and painful being touched. Essentially, you had to choice to die in heat or be fucked to death.

Alucard was working on a potion, a reversal one that would undo what had been done to you by Magnus. He left you alone most of the time, bringing you food and water that you would nearly vomit. Both of you were beginning a routine; him bringing you food, you telling him that only food you need is dick, him forcing the food down you mouth, and you cumming whenever he grabbed your face to force your lips open.

You were beyond mortified when you had creamed your pants from a mere touch of his hand, but he didn't even mention it. By now, he was used to your howls of need, of pain. The way you voice echoed throughout his castle was a constant reminder of the pain you were in. Alucard treated you more like a cat in heat than a cursed human.

Even if it weren't for the curse, you would still want Alucard to stay besides you. It was so lonely to be in a room, chained to the bed (something he had to do for his and your protection). There was no one to talk to, no one to keep you company during this time, nothing to look at.

Alone.

You tiredly fight against your chained hands, your chained legs. Sweat and tears drip down your face, and you could feel the nonstop wetness dripping onto the bed from between your thighs. You haven't touched yourself once since being here. Though you've came, without meaning to, it's still not enough. There's nothing for your pussy to clamp down on, nothing that you could rub between your thighs.

Instead you just lie there, sobbing and cursing at yourself, and Magnus, at leaving your village. None of this would have happened had you stay there. You would have been with company, with human contact, with the only family you have left. More tears slip down your face, and you know it's not just from painful arousal.

Your thoughts are stopped by the door opening, revealing Alucard who has a tray in his hand. You lift your head up to peer at him, taking in his slender frame, long fingers, gentle eyes, and unblemished skin. Just like that, your saddened thoughts are replaced by the familiar need for sex.

You force your head back down onto the bed, biting your lower lip. You're on the verge of begging him to fuck you, though you know he won't. It's futile to even consider, but the skin on your lip still breaks from staying silent. You close your eyes when you hear his footsteps getting closer, you won't be able to stand it if you see him.

"The potion in done," his voice is gentle besides you. This time you snap you eyes open, head turning to his direction. Your eyes land on the tray that has not only food, but a clear glass. It's swirling with green and blue, some gold flecks fluttering around. You left out a sigh of relief, but it comes out like a moan.

Without thinking, you reach for the bottle. You're quickly restricted by the chains, and you yell from frustration. "Fuck Alucard! Just give it to me." You know you're being rude, and it's the last thing you should be to the man helping you. Still, you're not sure if you're asking for the potion or something else.

He set the tray down on a nearby nightstand, grabbing the glass and looking at you wearily. "It's been days since you've been cursed. You could drink it now, but it would take a few more days for the symptoms to clear," Alucard trails off like there's something else, and truthfully you don't have the patience to keep waiting.

"It's possible to also make the symptoms clear up quickly, just within a few hours. However-"

You trash around the bed impatiently. "I don't care! Heal me quickly. I'm not sure I can take much longer." The smell of him has you keening, drooling at the scent. It's the most he's talked to you, and you're clenching around nothing just at his voice. You fear of what you'll do if you have to withstand this feeling any further, death is seeming like a much better alternative.

Alucard's fingers grip the glass a little more harder, and without a word, he sits at the edge of the bed. The dip of his weight makes you anxious, horny, needy. You pray that he quickly gets on with whatever he has to do, but you also wish he can take you. Your body starts shaking in anticipation. This man hasn't even touched you, yet his mere presence makes you vibrate with arousal.

You watch as his hands ghost over your thighs where your dress ends. Your breath hitches, and you nearly cry when he lifts up the dress. He bunches it at your waist, and when his knuckles graze your flesh, you cum. A sob wrecks your body, and your hips left off the bed. You feel so embarrassed, so disgusted with yourself, yet you can't stop the hot pleasure that raked through your body.

Alucard waits until you flop back down into the bed, heavy breathing. Though he's killed demons and his own father, he's never experienced someone with such a curse. You're tempting to him, your soft skin and pleading eyes. The noises you make are so pretty to him, but he knows better than to think anything else.

He's reserved, tucked away in a castle that teleports at will. He doesn't bother with much companionship, let alone a night with a woman. After what happened last time, he swore to stay away from helping people unless necessary. Humans are deceiving, selfish, and everything his father feared. Still, he has a heart, he had a human mother. There is evil in humans yes, but there is also good.

You don't notice how Alucard's eyes travel your body, how his pants start getting a little tighter around the crotch area. You're so out of it, so desperate, it's nearly impossible to ignore you. It takes unbelievable strength to pull your underwear to the side, more to ignore the way the cloth stick to your pussy. Alucard unconsciously licks his lips.

You moan at the feeling of being exposed, of being looked at. You dare to life your head up, peeking at Alucard who dips his middle finger in the cup to coax it in the liquid. He notices your staring, and looks up. "I promise to do nothing indecent. I just have to insert this inside," he explains.

You only moan in response, opening your legs wider for his access. With gentle movements, Alucard smears his finger all over you clit. You squeal, body quivering from the stimulation. He's applying it like ointment, but what he's doing is anything but doctor-like. Alucard is avoiding your bud, the place where you ache for him to touch the most. You try to maneuver your hips so he could graze it, but he keeps one hand at your hips to keep you still.

Though he's touching you, something you've been praying for since you got to his castle, now it's not enough. You begin begging, pleading with him to touch you. You've lost what decency you had left, opting to succumb to the effects of the curse.

"But I am touching you," Alucard protests. You watch as his lips fight from turning into a smirk. Oh he's into this. Now you finally take in how his tongue keeps licking his lip, how dilated his pupils are, the way his fangs poke out from his -

Wait, fangs?

Surely, you must be hallucinating. Delirious from pleasure that you've began seeing things. You blink a few times, trying to get your eyes right. When you open them, however, they're still there. Your eyes widen in disbelief, in shock. You open your mouth to ask about it, but he slips his finger inside.

You whimper instead, fingers clutching the sheets under you. Your eyes roll back to your head, letting your walls squeeze his finger. You're panting, thoughts of his inhuman teeth forgotten as you finally have something inside you.

"Forgive me if you're a maiden," his voice breaks through your moans. "This is the fastest way to the the results you want. Tell me to stop, I will."

You shake your head so harshly, Alucard worry it might fall off. "No! No," you cry out. "I'm not-fuck! I've had- shiiiiiit," Your mouth fails you. It's impossible to speak now that he's started pumping his finger inside you. It's nothing compared to cock, but it's still long enough to have make you squirm.

"Ahh," Alucard's voice is understanding, "I see." Truthfully, he's glad you're not a virgin. It would have been awkward when you've healed, he can't handle confrontation like that. He gives a few more pumps before he pulls out, a string of your essence still clinging to his finger as if begging to not leave.

"Put it back in!" You sob, fighting against the chains. You're left empty, pussy throbbing like it's also crying. Your teary eyes watch as he dips two fingers into the potion. You almost forgot he was giving you medicine, too distracted with how much your desire pooled for him.

"Please." There's no point in pleading, you know he will give you what you need. Still, the thought of being left here again to endure this pain has you worried. Alucard pulls his fingers out of the glass and rubs the liquid on your clit. This time, he does touch the bundle of nerves. You whimper, head thrown back as you relish in his touch.

Alucard releases his hand from your waist to dip his middle and ring finger into the potion. Now his two fingers on each hand soaked, he moves it to enter your cunt. He watched as you mouth falls open in a loud moan as he pumps and rubs you. You're tightening so much around him, convulsing like he's exorcising a demon.

A quiet groan escaped his mouth when you start fucking yourself on his fingers. With the little free movements you have, you shift your hips upwards and downwards. You don't have much energy, but doing this makes it so that his fingers are able to hit your sweet spots.

Alucard speeds up his movements on rubbing you, feeling your insides spasm around his fingers. You're close again, and your lower half is so sticky from all the combined wetness. You don't bother counting on how many times you've finished from his hands, but in how skilled he is. Alucard's movements are calculated, soft, and gentle. Despite making your pussy squelch and squirt, he does it as elegant as ever.

With another loud moan, you cum on his hand, letting your hips still as you savor your orgasm. Eyes closed, legs stiff, and mouth hanging open, Alucard pulls his finger completely away from your body. You gasp, looking up to see him eyeing your spasming walls. Sure, you might need this 'healing' more than him, but he looks as desperate.

It's not until you see Alucard move to the bottle that you notice it's almost empty. Truthfully, you've began to feel the beginning parts of the working medicine. You can think a little clearer, your head isn't pounding as hard, and your body doesn't ache as painfully with desire. Still, your body craves more. From the curse or from your own yearning, only God knows.

"Wait," you speak up. Alucard halts his movements, fingers just above the cup. "What is it?" He asks, "Are you in pain?" Some of the lust in his eyes was replaced with worry, and you would've melted on the spot had you not had your exposed pussy bared to him.

"No, I'm fine," your voice is reassuring. "Actually, I think it's working." Alucard nods, "It seems so, you can speak in full sentences now." You laugh at his words, a little embarrassed at your previous behavior. You chew on your lower lip, now able to feel some shame from what you want to ask.

"Is it possible to..." you trail off. Your eyes scan your nude legs, his wet fingers, then your eyes land on the tent in his pants. Alucard notices this, blushing at your bold vision. "To what?" He pushes. Even if you're being very direct with your eyes, he still needs that verbal confirmation.

You think on how to word it properly so that you don't further humiliate yourself. Then you think, fuck it. "You have already seen my womanhood and felt it yourself. What's the harm in using your cock to apply the serum?" There, you asked him. You let out an exhale, surprised at yourself with your own bluntness.

His eyes widen, then he scans your body. You're tied, chained to the bed. You can't do him any harm even if you wished to, plus you did not seem skilled in hunting demons or anything of the sort. Alucard weighs the pros and cons in his head before coming to a conclusion. "I suppose you're right, there is no difference at this point."

Alcuard stands off the bed, and you watch in anticipation as he rids himself of his pants. Wet hands untie the knot, gently dragging the material down his thighs, calfs, until he hits his ankles. Even in undressing, he is as poise as ever. With nothing underneath, you watch how his dick touches his lower abdomen, the head screaming to the played with.

A hum leaves your lips, legs opening a little wider upon seeing him. Alucard is far too embarrassed to look at you, but you can tell he appreciates your reaction from the red in his face. You yank of the chains enough to have them rattle, forcing him to look up at you. "Rid of these quickly. I think my arms are about to fall off."

You watch as his expression falls a little, a small look of pain crosses his eyes. "I cannot."

You raise an eyebrow, "You cannot?" He nods, confirming your question. "I find it more...comfortable to keep you bind." His tone is set, but the way his eyes meet yours shows his nervousness. You sigh, a little irritated at his request. You click your tongue a few times, thinking. "What about my legs then? Could you unchain them at least?"

He taps his chin thoughtfully, almost forgetting the fact that his dick is still out and proud. "Yes," Alucard comes to a resolution. "Tell me if you feel discomfort." You thank him and watch as he bends over to the bed, easily opening the clamps on your ankles to set you free.

Once your legs are released, you stretch. You feel a few bones pop and groan in satisfaction. Alucard chuckles at you, now finding himself on the bed as he crawls to your hips. Without missing a beat, you reopen your legs. You push your knees up to your chest, letting him adjust in front of you.

Anticipation relights in your chest as you observe him between your legs. Alucard soothingly rubs his hands up and down the back of your thighs, planting kisses on your somewhat sore ankles.

Gentle, you think. You haven't been with a lover in a while, and to be treated so tenderly after so long does something to you. Alucard's sweet, golden eyes meet you. Though you can see the passion and lust in them, you can't help but see fear. It's strange. Why is he one scared when you're the one who's tied? At his will and power literally beneath him, yet it's him who trembles in anxiousness.

"I'm not going to hurt you," you don't know why you say it. Perhaps it's because you want to make him feel better. A part of you regrets even speaking up, but that feeling goes away quickly when he smiles almost shyly at you. "I know," he says. "It's just been a while."

You were going to say that you have also been abstinent, but you moan instead when you feel the head of his cock sliding against your clit. From the previous cum and orgasms, Alucard finds himself humping against you eagerly. He uses his hands to reach down and press his cock harder against you, making sure to apply pressure.

You quiver, eyes locked on his as you hear the slickness of your connecting bodies. Alucard keeps his other hand at the back of you thigh to keep your leg open. His hips move with determination, captivated by your soft flesh.

The curse has not yet fully gone away, so it's not long before you feel the impending build up of yet another orgasm. You're moaning at every thrust Alcuard provides you to let him know that you're close. He watches how his dick glistens from your wetness despite not even being inside you once. Alucard knows it's just the curse effects, but a small part of his hopes it's from his actions.

Just to experiment, Allured dips the head of his cock into your entrance before sliding back out. You clench around emptiness, suddenly eager to cream his cock. "Alucard," his name is magic on your tongue. He doesn't even need to ask what you need nor do you need to say more. You both want it inside.

Alucard groans as he gentle slides his cock in you. There's little to no resistance, and even if there was, you would take only pleasure in the stretch. It's already hard not to when he fills you up so nicely, his girth spreading your lower lips perfectly. You didn't intend to come with his first breach, but you did anyway.

Your body tightens, your warm walls clamping on his dick like you did to his fingers not too long ago. An actual whimper leaves his lips, and you only squeeze him tighter. You can feel yourself pulsing around him, the leaking of your cum down your ass. Surely, you must look exhausted. With a heaving chest, sweaty body, and knotted hair, there must be nothing appealing to your appearance.

Still, Alucard finds beauty in your afterglow. The wet and dry cum spread between your thighs, the way your eyes seem to gloss over every time you finish, truly a sight to behold. It's been so long since he has experienced pleasure to this extent. Alcuard will cherish this moment for as long as he can.

It's why he thrusts into you again, relishing in your overstimulated noises. All you can do, and want to do, is take it. Let Alucard take you as he pleases, as he deserves. He's been so patient, so kind. This is the last he deserves.

Now that both of his hands are on your thighs, you start honing in on his touches. His long hair tickles your legs, even a part of your stomach when he leans down to get a better angle. His fingers dig into your soft flesh, almost possessively. His mouth is open, panting as he fucks into you.

Even in his most primal state, Alucard is still graceful in his movements. You don't think it's possible for any man to look as beautiful as he does in the moment, yet here he is. You unconsciously tug at the restraints at your wrists, desperate to touch him, to kiss him.

His pink, soft lips are all you can look at while Alucard is too distracted with looked at how your cunt eats him up. Now with more confidence, he lifts your legs higher. He pins your thighs to your chest so tightly that it constricts some of your air flow. The current mating press has him close to your face, dick adjusting to the new position.

There's no way you can't not pay attention to his mouth now, his breath on your skin. Alucard is on his feet now, crouched so he could slam into your overstimulated pussy perfectly. He's so deep, so thick that you feel his tip go almost in to your cervix. You cry out, eyes teary as he finally looks up at you.

Alucard looks at you as if he's hurt you, but now he can see the pure lust gaze you have. It's almost as if Alucard had heard your wish to kiss him because the next thing you know, those same lips are pressing down on yours. You moan into his mouth, a sudden burst of pleasure explodes in your stomach.

"Holy shit," you manage to speak. Your legs are spasming insanely, his grip had turned a little harsh just to keep you still. You don't pulling away from his sloppy kiss, you know his thighs must be soaked in your cum.

He is first to break the kiss, letting out a choked laugh before driving into you harder. You didn't even get the chance to come down from your high. Instead, your body moves like a rag doll underneath him from the intense overstimulation. Now you're somewhat thankful for the chains, you have something to grab onto without worry of hurting anyone (besides yourself).

Alucard knows he won't last much longer. Not only is his dick going to explode, but his legs will give out from staying at a squatting position. With loud groans and unfocused eyes, you know he's close. After days of watching your struggle, the desperation for Alucard's touch, he finally gets to soak in all your being.

A part of you wishes that you could do more for him, but the way his face begins to twist in pleasure tells you that he's perfectly happy with how things are now. His hips stutter, your name leaves his lips in aroused chants, and he pulls out.

You gasp at the sudden lost of contact, immediately begging for him to put it back in. Though you have cum an already unknown amount of times on his cock and fingers, you think it's only fair for him to get the same treatment in finishing in your soft pussy no matter how fuck out you are.

He ignores your wails though, he continues stroking himself the completion on your stomach. Wet cum sprouts on your tummy, legs still stuck in the previous position. Though you know you should be grateful for him not cumming inside, you're still thoroughly disappointed. Alucard has the same feeling as you, but he's still gentleman.

You slowly let your legs down, wincing at the soreness and stiffness you're met with. Alucard is quick to help you, gently placing your legs on the bed. You're still breathing heavily, on the brink of passing out when he awkwardly lays besides you. From the way he's panting, he's also just as tired as you.

It takes a while before he's able to speak, turning his head to you. "Are you okay?"

You laugh, also turning to meet his eyes, "Yes, Alucard. I feel great." He hums thoughtfully at your answer, a soft smile on his lips. You want to talk to him more. You want to ask about his castle, how he seems like to be the only one here, where he came from, where he learned to fuck like that.

Despite your curiosity, sleep gets the best of you. And you think this will be the first time you get a good nights rest in years.

a/n: this is my man frfr

taglist: @whatamidoing89, @panda-wolf, @fatgumsbby, @nekohollowsychogoth

[tulipe-rose]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~¶~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Promise.

Muichirou tokito x f!reader angst.

Tragic, seriously grab some tissues.

Time line -> post Swordsmith village arc

He ran into the estate, without a care to his surroundings. His mind was running a mile a minute, and his ears were ringing. His expression was fixed into one of panic, and hurt. He zoomed through the hallways, trying multiple doors. He had to get to you.

The moment Ginko came to him with news, he dropped everything to see you. She said you were in critical condition due to your latest mission, and that you might not make it.

He tried a few more doors, before stumbling upon a nurse, who told him that she was still in treatment, which took place in the ground floor, first door to the entrance. Not so much as sparing another glance, he bolted towards the stairs, frantically looking for the said description, before spotting the door and sliding it open, only to stare in horror, eyes as wide as his sword's hilt.

There you were, barely breathing, face contorted into a wince of great pain and anguish. You were placed on a stretcher, being attended to by the head of the estate herself, and a variety of helpers. The kakushi were trying to ward him away, as you were quite fragile, and teetering on the thin line of life and death. The head doctor was moving rather quickly, scattering commands and instructions left and right. She was sweating with worry, trying her best to save you. She wouldn't forgive herself if she didn't at least try.

Muichirou made it past the kakushi, kneeling down by your side, clutching your hand gently. He couldn't bear to see you like this, and hated how little he could do. He was on the verge of tears. He trusted the butterfly lady's capabilities, but his heart wouldn't rest.

You looked around, at all these sad expressions, they were all people you loved, and you couldn't bear to see them like that. You felt your end nearing, as much as you hated it, you were aware. You didn't like dying so young, you still had many things to try.... You had so many loved ones that you'd be too pained to leave, but it was too harsh to give them hope.

You slowly reached to Shinobu's trembling fingers, urging her to stop. She gave you a panicked and greatly irritated look, but before she could scold you, Muichirou overtook her, crying, begging, for you to let her continue, he tried to assure you this could be fixed, however before he could continue, you interrupted him, gazing deep into his eyes, tears flooding yours.

'' Please... Let me go... I can feel myself going numb. I'm dying. ''

'' No! Please, listen to me- ''

'' Mui... Stop. I love you... But there's no changing what is... ''

You smile solemnly, recognising his denial, and feeling Shinobu back at work. An idea pops into your hazy mind, and you decide to act on it.

'' How about this, Mui? I'll promise myself... to you as a bride, but in another lifetime... If you let me go in this one... And become the best person you could be... I'll let you take me as yours... ''

Your breathes were getting shorter and more shallow, your essence slowly fading.

'' No. I want you here with me! I don't even know if we'll ever cross paths in some supposed lifetime! ''

He was growing pale and desperate, grip tightening around your hand.

'' But... This... Is my last wish... Please... Promise?... I wouldn't want another... ''

You stick your pinky finger out towards him, before he hesitantly intertwines your fingers, tears falling harder than before.

'' This life is now complete... I hope... for the next... to be better... ''

You smile contently, before turning your gaze to look to your friend and comrade, flashing her one last smile, before all goes numb.

'' Shinobu... Take care of yourself and him for me, will ya? ''

Your finger falls from Muichirou's hold, and sad stillness befalls the room.

😁

[nochukoo97]

p.s. i love you (2)

pairing: doctor!jungkook x doctor!oc

summary: you manage to let your health get the better of you, and when you faint in the operating room, theres a certain man ready to scoop you into his arms and bring you home to take care of you.

warnings: oc faints being on her period, jk takes care of her afterwards and brings her back to his place, but jk is being SO confusing in expressing his feelings, they end up sharing a bed 🥹

word count: 1.8k+

p.s. i love you masterlist!

- p.s. i love u (1)

You’re reluctant to walk back into the hospital the next day, not because you don’t want to work, because of a certain man who embraced you and called you “baby” yesterday.

Maybe that was it, since nothing else happened after that.

You sit down far away from Jungkook in the briefing room, and as much as you want to peer at him to see if he notices your presence, you control yourself.

The briefing is quick, your head of department deploys you and Jungkook again to look over new students who were practicing in the hospital.

It’s awkward when your head of department exits the room, there’s tension in the air as neither one of you says a word.

Jungkook takes the first move and walks out of the room, not sparing you a glance.

Immediately you start to overthink, wondering if he was mad at you, or if yesterday meant nothing to him.

It wasn’t like he kissed you anyways, the pet name probably slipped out with meaning.

Even though your heart had ached a little after he had practically ignored you, you had to move on with your busy day.

Throughout the day, you didn’t have any appointments with Jungkook, meaning you’d probably not even interact with him today at all.

Yet you somehow manage to let the man slip into your thoughts at every appointment, clearly affected by how he had paid you no attention after yesterday.

Did he think you were weird? Did he just say and do all that out of sympathy yesterday? Maybe you were overlooking everything.

“Excuse me, Ms ___,” The current patient, a young female, had cleared her throat, catching you daydreaming while she was telling you her symptoms.

“I’m so sorry, I spaced out, could you repeat that again for me?”

You frantically apologise to her, as she repeats her sentences again, this time with a bit of agitation hinted in her voice.

You seriously need to get him out of your head.

————————————————————————

You go to bed with a heavy heart, overwhelmed by the amount of feelings and stress you’ve been met with.

All thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who confuses you so fucking much.

You’re hesitant as you finger hovers over the send button:

you: hey jungkook, just wanted to check, we have to look over a bunch of students doing the surgery for Mrs Park tomorrow, you’ll be there?

You press send and quickly shut off your phone.

There's a vibration against your chest where you phone is.

You take a deep breath as you slowly lift your phone, anticipating the worst.

He’d probably be annoyed that you even texted him, maybe he’ll tell you to piss off, or reply an ‘Ok.’ or a ‘Yes.’

jungkook: yeah ill be there, see you! 🙃

Oh.

You catch yourself smiling a little too hard at the text, slapping your face and telling yourself that he probably texts like that to everyone.

He plays with your feelings too much.

————————————————————————

You wake up to your alarm blaring, groaning as you stretch your arm over to turn the alarm off.

It’s 5am in the morning.

And your sheets are stained red.

What a better way to start off your day with your period, you stained your newly washed sheets and the cramps in your lower belly begins to start.

Cringing as you climb off your mattress, you hurriedly rip off the sheets and toss it in the washing machine, cursing at yourself for not noticing that the date of your period had been nearing.

You feel like absolute shit, you couldn’t even stand to brush your teeth from how lightheaded you felt.

The blood draining from out your body made you practically immobile from how dizzy you were, but in this case you couldn’t just skip work, you had a whole day of important meetings and tasks which would be a pain to shift to another day.

You stuff a good number of pads in your bag as you get ready to leave the house, mentally preparing for the long and dreadful day ahead.

————————————————————————

You’re shifting uncomfortably in your driver’s seat as you pull into the carpark of the hospital, giving yourself a pep talk to not cry or burst into tears the moment you walk in. You were definitely not in the mood for this today.

Still you walked into the office with a smile, hopefully no one can tell you’re actually hiding a full face of pain as your lower abdomen clenches again, causing pain to shoot around your body.

Walking into the surgery room as you greet the students, you spot Jungkook all geared up in his attire as he gives you a small wave.

You smile under your mask waving back, but he can’t see, from all the surgical attire you were wearing.

He doesn’t need to know anyways.

So far everything is going well, the students seem to be well trained in both preparing and carrying out the surgery, you and Jungkook give tips here and there to the students as they actively receive the feedback, eager to learn.

It makes you happy to see such enthusiastic future doctors and surgeons.

However, those happy thoughts don’t last long as you’re hit with another dizzy spell, the cramps in your abdomen increasing by the second.

Your vision goes hazy, you know you should be taking a break with how much pain you’re in, and the fact that you were about to lose balance.

But you didn’t listen to your body, telling yourself to bear it a little longer, it was only a matter of minutes until the surgery was about to be finished.

The next thing you know, you feel yourself falling to the ground, losing consciousness.

————————————————————————

Jungkook is too far from you to react in time, as he watches you fall to the ground, head hitting the floor with a loud thud.

The students in the room whip their head towards you, all gasping and some rushing to you.

Jungkook reaches you in a matter of seconds, he cradles your head as he attempts to shake you gently, trying to wake you up.

“Okay guys, we need to finish the surgery, it’s important that in these type of situations, we cannot leave the patient hanging,” He makes an effort to use this as a lesson for the students,

“I’ll bring her over to a room to be taken care of, and I’ll get the nurses here to call another doctor to look over the procedure okay?”

The students nod, some still shocked at the sudden situation.

Jungkook signals for the nurse to page for another doctor to come in, and he carries you, rushing you out of the room to call for a room and more help.

————————————————————————

As you open your eyes, your vision clears up, as you stare at the white tiled ceiling.

Where were you?

You start to regain your senses, feeling a heavy weight near your thigh.

Jungkook’s head is resting on your lap, soft snores fill the room, his hand enveloped in yours.

Oh

My

Gosh.

Your poor heart begins to thud against your chest for the millionth time this week.

You reach your other hand towards his sleeping face, brushing a strand of hair away from his shut eyes.

His hand tightens around yours as he stirs in his sleep, eyes slowly opening as you panic,

“Are you feeling better?” Jungkook’s voice is raspy, he sits up and tucks your hair behind your ear.

He tells the whole story about how you had completely passed out on the floor

Jungkook makes sure to include the part how he was the one who carried you in here

“Yeah, thanks for bringing me here,” You whisper, you’re trying not to lose it from his ministrations.

“You should take better care of yourself y’know, if you needed a break you could’ve told me, I would have let you rest,”

His words make you dizzier than your period does.

“I can take care of myself, I just, I wanted to bear it a little longer since the procedure was almost done, maybe I overestimated myself,” Your fiddling with your hands as you speak, not daring to look into his eyes.

Jungkook’s tattooed hand grabs yours,

“Well I’ll make sure to stand near you from now on, I’ll catch you if you fall,” He teases you, playing with your hands as he smirks at you.

“Don’t say that,” You roll your eyes at him playfully, even though you were currently about to go insane deep inside.

“I mean it though,”

————————————————————————

And somehow the night ended with you here, hands around Jungkook’s waist as he swerves his motorcycle around the cars, bringing you back to his apartment.

You don’t know how you ended up here, but Jungkook is extremely good at convincing you to stay at his apartment, saying that he “doesn’t want you to collapse alone in your apartment so you should stay in case,”

You’d take any excuse he gives you anyday.

“Sorry if my apartment’s a little messy, wasn’t expecting anyone over,” Jungkook mumbles as he opens the door

You don’t have time to respond to him before you squeal at the doberman whose tail is wagging excitedly at the new visitor in his house.

“Oh my gosh~~” You coo at the dog, your period pain long forgotten.

“Sorry if he’s being jumpy or licky, he tends to get excited when there’s new visitors,” Jungkook explains, placing your shoes next to his at the entrance of the door.

“It’s fine gguk, stop apologising for things when you’re literally doing me a huge favour,” You laugh, then you go quiet for a second from letting the nickname slip.

Shit, it’s your turn now.

“Gguk?” Jungkook teases you, but you only slap his arm playfully in response as he raises an eyebrow in amusement.

————————————————————————

Jungkook’s cooking dinner for the both of you as you stand next to him, mesmerised by his cooking skills.

“Oh my gosh, smells so good,” You groan as you watch him stir the fried rice in the pan, palms leaning on the counter.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smiles, turning to you.

You’re caught off guard by his smile, you cough and turn away from him before he can watch you turn red.

Suddenly you’re extremely interested in Bam who’s sleeping in his cage, squatting at the entrance, you pretend to be intrigued by the dog.

Jungkook chuckles at you, his heart warm as he watches your flustered state.

———————————————————————

“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jungkook leads you into his bedroom as you scan the room.

It’s simple and modern, definitely what you thought his bedroom would look like,

Not that you imagined his bedroom or anything.

“But this is your room! I can’t just kick you out of your own bedroom,” You would feel awful if you made him sleep on the couch of his own house.

“Okay then we can sleep here together then, you’re not sleeping on the couch either,” Jungkook plops on his bed, tapping the space beside him.

“Come on, there’s lots of space,”

Jeon Jungkook’s going to be the death of you.

[makeithappenandreal]

What if Donna stayed as the Doctor's companion througout the whole series? Third Part:

how the other known companions would react:

Amy would have LOVED her. Like love love her. They would take turns on making sarcastic comments on the Doctor. She would have obsessed over Donna instead of the Doctor until she grew up lol.

Rory would think she is very rude at First but then he would think she is so Cool. How the Doctor did not really care for Rory kind of at First -lol-, Donna would absolutely be very good friends with him from the start. She would push Amy into realizing Rory loves her and help their relationship.

River would absolutely be best friends with her down to the last bit and they would have gotten along like fire with each other. Like when River takes the TARDIS without the Doctor not knowing she would do it while Donna is inside. Imagine how she just knew River was married to Hydroflax because she was there with her in that adventure and the Doctor bites Donna's head off a regeneration when he hears she knows.

I think Missy would see her as a toy at First like she sees every human and think she is a standart companion in love with the Doctor and sweet and in need of constant rescuing and would not take Donna seriously until she understood Donna is you know, Donna. And she would actually love how she regards them so equal that she would be intriuged. And she would start developing a kind of love which is disgusting in Missy's opinion but she would start respecting Donna and not talk her down after a point like she does to not Doctor ones.

I don't think she would have liked Clara at first nor Clara her. Then she would start liking her a lot and so would Clara. They would have gotten along quite well after a while with Clara and she would be supporting her through Danny thing. Then she would start to see Doctor and hers toxic relationship and would slap the Dcotor back to himself and tell him to get himself the fuck together. I think Doctor would have leave Clara be at the end of season 8 because he would have understood the situation of how toxic it was going for them thanks to Donna.

Bill would have been adopted by Donna literally first glance. They would adopt Bill into the TARDIS with the Doctor, no elobarating.

She would bully Nardole as much as the Doctor sorry lol

Yaz would be jealous of her I think and think she has something with the Doctor but Donna would clear that up very quickly.