#i need to be medicated i think it would help

[navybrat817]

Hit to the Head

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't think he needs medical attention after a hit to the head, but he's glad he met you.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Meet cute (of sorts?), possible concussion, mention of HYRDA, team dynamic, humor, Bucky's POV, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he's smitten.

A/N: A new AU (as if I need more) inspired by this wonderful nonnie. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 (and thanks for the assurance on the medical discussion), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn't need medical attention. That was what he told himself, and he said the same thing to the team after he took a hard hit to the head. But he made the mistake of telling Bob that he admittedly felt a little dizzy, who then told Yelena, who then demanded that he go to the hospital. Not only did she demand that he go, they all went and were currently hanging out in the lobby to make sure he was okay. 

It was a sweet gesture, if not a wasted one. 

He took a hit to the head. So what? He experienced much worse when it came to his head and he was a super soldier for God's sake, so he’d heal just fine. It was a bit cocky to think like that but others needed help more than he did and he wasn't in the mood for anyone to inspect him or ask questions. 

At least he wasn't until he saw your face. 

“Hi,” you smiled, pulling back the curtain to give him some privacy. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He opened his mouth to say he hadn't waited long at all, but no sound came out. Thank God he wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor because it would've picked up on the accelerated rate when you smiled at him again. He almost forgot to breathe before his body reminded him that he needed oxygen. No one should look as beautiful as you in medical scrubs or under the harsh hospital lighting. He wondered if he looked okay despite the blood and dirt on his clothes. 

Wait, why did it matter what he looked like? He wasn't there to flirt with or impress you. There was no reason for him to sit up straighter or flex his right arm. There sure as hell wasn't any reason to run his fingers through his hair to get the tangles out. It was a hospital visit, not a date. 

You wore a name tag, but introduced yourself before taking a look at his chart. “I understand you took a pretty hard hit to the head, Mr. Barnes.”

His voice came out huskier than he anticipated when he said, “Call me Bucky.” Clearing his throat he added, “If you consider a slab of concrete to the head hard, then yeah, but at least my head didn't split open.”

He felt the need to assure you he was fine when concern crossed your beautiful features. “I’m very thankful your head didn't split open, Bucky.” He liked the way you said his name. “But a concrete slab to the head is no joke.”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked, making you giggle. Was he funny or were you only laughing for his benefit? “But seeing the other guy wouldn't matter anyway since you won't let me leave without an exam,” he guessed. Even if he didn't believe he needed one. 

It wasn't just his belief that he was fine. Most didn't know it, but every now and then hospitals made him feel like he was back at HYDRA, ready to be strapped to a chair to await his next form of torture or to be experimented on. He wouldn't say he was afraid, but there was discomfort. Enough to make it feel like the walls were slowly closing in. 

With a deep breath he thought instead of his wonderful treatment in Wakanda and reminded himself that he was safe, free. It helped the next breath come easier. He then looked at your face where he only saw concern and compassion. You weren't going to hurt him. You were there to help. 

“Well, I wouldn't be a very good nurse if I just let you walk out, would I?” you gently smiled. 

He managed a smile for you because you weren't just doing your job. You also seemed kind. “I guess not.”

He could get through a simple exam. 

Bucky inhaled, detecting a hint of something sweet under the sterile surroundings as you checked his heart beat. It was so subtle that he wouldn't have been able to pick up on it if it weren't for his heightened senses. He almost leaned into you before you pulled away, and thank God for that. Would he have been able to blame it on his head if he did?

“I don't have a concussion,” he blurted out. 

“Is that right?” He swore there was amusement in your tone when you shone a light in each of his eyes. “I imagine you're somewhat familiar with them in your line of work.”

“You can say that,” he said. He had his fair share of hits to the head, and helped his teammates get through injuries. “No nausea, no stiffness or imbalance.”

He didn't mention the dizziness since he didn't want to stay longer than he needed to. 

“Any issues with your memory?” you asked. 

He smirked a little. “That's a bit of a loaded question.”

“Can you tell me what day it is and what hospital you're at?” you asked. 

He answered the questions with ease. He also spelled “world” backwards when you asked him to. “See? I’m fine,” he said. 

“Your vitals are normal. Pupils reactive. But-”

“Look, I appreciate you checking me out,” he cut you off, keeping the bite out of his voice because he refused to snap at you. “But I don't want to waste your time.”

Bucky hated that he was trying to rush out when you were only trying to help, but he could hear people in the other rooms even as he tried to block it out. They were in pain, struggling. They needed you more than he did. 

“And I appreciate that you're thinking of my time, but it’s my job and I wouldn't feel comfortable with you leaving without completing my exam,” you said, taking a closer look at him. It wasn't concern he saw in your eyes now, but understanding. “You're not exactly a fan of hospitals, are you?”

The question took him by surprise. How did you guess? “Not exactly,” he replied, choosing not to elaborate on that and you were thoughtful enough not to push. Just a sympathetic nod, which he appreciated. “But the work you and everyone else in the medical field does? It's incredible. Thank you.”

In his eyes, people like you were the real heroes. You didn't just face battles, you faced pandemics and life changing events. You risked your lives, saw the best and worst of people, and how many thanked you in return? And from the little time he knew you he could sense the love and dedication to your job and patients. He respected that. 

“Thank you. And thank you for all that you do, too,” you said sincerely. The compliment had the corner of his lip tugging in a smile. “I know you want to get out of here, but I am here to help. If you're fine, great. If not, please, let me help you.”

He tried to look anywhere but at you. It unnerved him that you got under his skin with so few words and he wondered for a second if that hit to the head did more damage than he thought. “I feel a little dizzy, but that’s all,” he admitted, and he felt better by doing so. 

You put a hand over his, little currents of electricity shooting up his arm. “Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, like it was your little secret. “Since you are feeling dizzy, I would like you to stay for observation.”

Bucky sighed. “How long do I have to stay?”

“As long as everything is stable and there are no new or worsening conditions, you’ll likely be discharged within an hour or two,” you replied. He almost argued that he healed from injuries faster thanks to the serum, but that wasn't too long. Better safe than sorry. At least it wasn't a headscan. “Would you like some water? I can get you a snack, too.”

The snack and drink were likely to make sure he could keep them down. “Sure, thanks,” he whispered. 

“Sorry that you’re stuck with me checking on you for the next hour or so,” you said. 

Bucky’s smile grew before he chuckled. “You won't hear me complaining,” he promised. 

Hell, he'd probably fake an injury just to see you again, or at least ask for you if he ever had to come back to the hospital for any reason. He wondered if you were single. You weren't wearing a wedding band or an engagement ring. That didn't necessarily mean-

“I’m single,” you said quickly.

He glanced at you before his eyes went wide. Shit, he said some of that out loud? “Oh, well, that’s…” He wasn't sure what to say. Should he apologize? “Nice.”

He grimaced. Nice? What was wrong with him? Maybe he had a concussion after all. 

You looked at him, your smile soft and easy. He either wasn't the first patient to make a fool out of himself like that or you were being nice. “I’ll be back shortly, but buzz if you need anything.”

“I will,” he said, his finger itching to push the remote the second you left him alone.

He leaned back in the bed and tried to make himself comfortable while he slowly looked around. How was it that the room seemed darker, as if you took a bit of the light and warmth with you? He shook his head slowly and carefully. It was a ridiculous thought. 

“Observation for an hour or two. You okay sticking around so you can drive me back?” he messaged Yelena. 

Yelena messaged back almost immediately. “Everyone is staying. Even Walker.”

He scoffed, but there was a smile behind it. “Not that you need my permission, but you can punch him if he steps out of line.” Yeah, John was still an asshole, but they did work together and he was trying. Some days. 

He perked up when you came back with a cup of water and a snack. “You doing okay?” you asked. 

“Since you left a minute or two ago, yeah,” he teased. 

“Were you a sarcastic guy before the hit to the head, or is this a new side to you?” you teased back. 

“Oh, the sass has always been there,” he said, taking a sip once you handed the drink over. “Better to be smart-ass than a dumbass, right?”

Why was he talking so much?

“So much better,” you smiled, going to the small computer to type something in. He tried not to stare as your fingers flew across the keyboard. He could always blame it on his head if you caught him. “I’ll be back in just a bit, but-”

“Buzz if I need you. I know,” he smiled. 

“At least there isn't too much sass in your tone,” you joked before you left him alone once again. 

If he didn't know any better he would think you were flirting with him, but you were just being a friendly nurse. 

He also tried not to eavesdrop when he heard you assisting others, but your voice drew his attention and he hung on your every word. You were professional, yet personal, showing each patient expert care. You lightly scolded an older gentleman who hadn't listened to you, which brought a smile to Bucky’s face when the man apologized and didn't give you any trouble after that. It was a delicate balance to be kind and assertive and you did it well. 

“You are something,” he said to himself. 

For the next hour or so Bucky didn't say much when you checked on him, but you had his undivided attention, his eyes following you wherever you went. He wanted to find excuses to keep you there and possibly make small talk, but it felt wrong when there were other patients who needed your attention. He caught that sweet scent again whenever you were close to him. Alluring, captivating. He tried to figure out if it was a body wash or just you. 

Something he noticed and tried not to was that your heart raced faster when you were near him. Maybe there was a slight chance that you were attracted to him? Beyond being a friendly nurse, maybe the possible attraction was why you kept smiling at him. He wanted to believe so. He wanted to feel your hand on his hand again. The brief touch had him wanting more, which was crazy. 

And before Bucky knew it, it was time to leave. 

“Vitals still look good. No change in symptoms,” you confirmed after he said the dizziness had subsided and he didn't feel at all nauseous after the snack. “Do you have someone to drive you home?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I have some friends here,” he answered. Even if he wasn't dizzy there was no way they'd let him drive after that. 

“Try to take it easy for the next 24-48 hours. If there are new symptoms or if the dizziness gets worse, you should return to the hospital,” you told him. “Other than that, I think you're good to go,” you smiled, but it didn't look as bright as before. 

Were you disappointed that he had to leave? Bucky was disappointed, but what could he do? He had no excuse to stay. Ironic how he was itching to leave when he got there when he now wanted a reason to stick around. 

“Thanks.” He grabbed his jacket after slowly getting to his feet, your gaze lingering on him when he slipped it on. 

“Why don't I walk you back to the lobby?” you offered. 

“Oh, you don't have to do that,” he said, regretting it since it sounded like a brush off and that wasn't his intention. “But if you wouldn't mind?”

Your face lit up, at least he thought it did. “I don't mind at all.”

Keeping a respectful distance, but not too much of a gap as you walked together, he stole a couple of glances at you. The quiet confidence in which you carried yourself was beautiful and you turned a few heads from nearby patients. He wondered if you noticed. 

He smiled to himself when he spotted his teammates sitting in the waiting area. None of them looked particularly comfortable, but they stuck it out for him. It meant a lot. 

“That group right there is my ride,” he said, not wanting you to go any closer. If they got the slightest hint that he enjoyed your company for a short time, they’d pounce. “Thanks again.”

“I’m glad I could help," you said, gazing at him. “Havd a good night. And don't forget to take it easy for the next 24-48 hours, hero.”

Hero. The nickname almost made him smile. “You have a good night, too.”

You lingered for just a moment, almost as if you expected him to say something else. When he didn't, you offered him one last smile and scanned your card to get back through the double doors. His shoulders dropped once you were out of sight. He should've said something. 

“Hello?” Yelena asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “What are you staring at?”

He blinked a few times. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Oh, I think he was staring at that pretty nurse,” Ava answered. 

Bucky shot the entire group a glare, his cheeks hot. “No, I wasn't,” he grumbled. Except he was. He stared at you. And by the amused looks on their faces, they all saw it. 

Yelena exchanged a look with Ava before they both smirked. “Yes, you were. Do you like the nurse?”

Bucky’s fists curled. He was not having this conversation after a hit to the head. “Can we leave?”

“It’s okay to stare or have a crush. She’s a beautiful woman.” Alexei clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She would be lucky to date the Winter Soldier.”

A growl escaped before Bucky could stop it. Yes, you were beautiful. Did he need Alexei to point that out? And he didn't have a crush. How could he? 

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Ava asked. 

Bucky took a deep breath. He really didn't want to talk about this. “Does it matter?” he asked. 

“Ask her out! I drive you for your date!” Alexei offered, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll set the mood. You see.”

Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered, “Dad, stop.”

Bucky shook his head and shut his eyes, wishing he could teleport himself out of there. “Yes, please, stop.”

“Is your head okay?” Bob asked, making him open his eyes. Of course he was concerned with his pain, and Bucky was glad for the change of topic. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky assured him. There was nothing for him to worry about. “I just need to take it easy for the next day or so.”

John stretched his back once he stood up. “If you really want to see that nurse again I can make sure you get another hit to the head.”

Bucky’s eyes turned cold. “I’m not a killer anymore, but I may make an exception if you try anything.”

John held his hands up, but still had a smirk on his face before Yelena shot him a look. “A small injury could bring you back here.”

“No one is injuring me to bring me back here,” he announced. Everyone looked disappointed except for Bob. “What, you all want me to get hurt?”

Why did he decide to join this team again?

“No, we just want you to see the nurse again,” Ava said.

“Let’s go,” he ordered. 

As the group left, Bucky snuck one last look over his shoulder. You were a good nurse, and you made his night better. A small part of him hoped he made your night a little better, too. And while he certainly didn't want more injuries, a part of him did if only to bring him back to you.

So, what injury is Bucky getting so he can see you again? sebastian stan x reader, james bucky buchanan barnesLove and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 13. Damian attempts self-reflection

PREV PART trigger warning: medical + physical + emotional neglect, name is officialy fucking done and they'll make it known, Name is no longer hiding that they want to leave, Damian centric chapter, short filler  main m.list       series m.list

You are about to kill a motherfucker, and that motherfuckers name is Damian. Not only is he following you, he continuously attempts to place trackers and to get your medication to give to Bruce. And after your latest shift, you were done. Robin was now spying on you while you were working, and you are absolutely fucking done.

So when you see him at the dining table you couldn’t contain your anger. “You and I are going to have a talk, privately,” you hiss at him, smacking a bag of broken trackers on the table. “or so help me, and I actually get a fucking restraining order against you.”

This sure as hell got his attention, and he nods and follows you to the kitchen. You need a room that can be trashed, and in the kitchen you have more shit to throw. “You are out of line,” you say, looking at him with a stare that one could describe as threatening, enraged and calculating. “if you do this again I’ll be sure to fuck Robin up the next time he comes to visit me at work.”

You didn’t want to play your cards out, they have no need to know that you know. Of course Duke knows, but he’ll always be the exception.

Damian laughs, he can’t help it. You think you can fuck up Robin? Please, he didn’t know you had a sense of humour. What a delightful surprise.

At least he has enough sense to stop laughing when he felt your stern gaze become a glare. Truly, you aren’t like Bruce a lot, but your stare… your stare is purely Bruce. “Why do you think you being followed by Robin has anything to do with me?” he asks, genuinely curious. He just hopes you won’t put all the clues together, he’s quite relieved with the fact that your pain keeps you oblivious. Unable to use all of your intelligence.

“Nightwing and then Robin, it’s obvious they are in Bruce in pockets,” you say trying to make it seem like you weren’t omitting something. But Damian did notice a slight change in your body language, but he’ll dismiss it for now. “get him to back off, or I will file a formal complaint of stalking against him. Wouldn’t be so good for his already shitty reputation, right?”

Seems like you hit a nerve, Damian looks away ashamed, regretful and at the same time grateful. Good, let him think you’re oblivious, the more he underestimates you the safer you will be. A boy like Damian is even more dangerous than a man like Jason, Damian was raised to kill, but Jason just copied the aggression he learned. And when he lost his joyful nature, he became the monster he is today. You take Damian’s silence as compliance. “Do me a favour and tell Brucie that I will be at Maria’s for the rest of the week,” you say as you turn around, ignoring how he takes a sharp breath. “I don’t want to see your face until I return.”

Damian knows your hyper independent nature is due to their actions, due to what they’ve done to you. But he can’t help but feel bitter, he didn’t know better. He didn’t understand your side, and he wants to be your brother. He always wanted to be your brother.

From the moment you defended Tim he knew that he wanted you to defend him like that, that he wanted you to love him like that. But after Jason’s attack he learned how your family treated you, and he wanted nothing to do with you. Fearful of losing his father’s approval, and you don’t know about their life. Involving you would lead to you being kidnapped and at worst killed.

He knows he could have had a civilian relationship, but after he chastised you for your anger towards Jason he knew he no longer had a chance. He knew, so he didn’t try.

He didn’t try because he didn’t understand.

So now, as you pull away from them instead of them pulling away from you Damian doesn’t know what to do. He wants to be your sibling, he wants the bond you seemed to have with Tim (a bond he now knows doesn’t exist), he wants to be loved by you. And he wants to protect you.

Can’t you let your brother protect you?

You’re the older sibling, shouldn’t you do anything to make your younger siblings happier?

NEXT PART guys, I know this is short, but listen, I wanted this out because I keep having Damian being a gremlin brother thoughts and not in a good way. also I keep seeing one specific username that is such a typical name where I am from that I'm like; shit do I know this person?

taglist CLOSED!: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[bluestar22x]

Same goes for not being married yet. Even if you do actually want to get married, it takes two for that. You can't get married if you have no one to ask or be asked by. And you can't force anyone to date you let alone marry you.

I get the still lives with their parents thing a lot and the marriage thing, that's why I added it. But I went to college, the job didn't work out and my current job isn't enough to pay most available rents (note that my college job paid even LESS than my current one so don't think college degree means money - employees at McDonalds get more money per hour ($2.75 more in fact) than I got from a job needing a bachelor's degree).

Ok, I could go on my own and pay rent, I want to someday, but the only rents I see available right now are either trash or would suck up all my money and I'd have nothing in my savings, no back up for medical bills, etc. It's a lot easier to survive when you don't have to worry about rent. I can pay everything else and I have some side money to actually enjoy my life and take a vacation here and there. And my parents get help around the house in return.

If I had maybe 3 more dollars an hour I wouldn't worry about rent costs and be so picky (please, give me a raise, I'm begging!), but I am at least $300 short a month for the half decent rents to be affordable (and why should I live in a rat infested rental when I can live in a clean house my parents willingly offered?). Rents aren't supposed to take up over 60% of your monthly salary. It's not sustainable. Yet so many low income people are forced to rent these old places that are like $1,000 a month or more and I don't even know how they are up to code. They are in rough shape and ready to catch fire (so many apartment fires in town because the rents and their electrical wiring are ancient - and even getting new electrical wiring doesn't seem to stop these electrical fires from occurring - which has made me paranoid about anything built before 2000). They pay rent then can't afford hardly anything else, even other essentials. Then their unit burns down and they lose everything. Including their cats.

Either decent rents need to be $600 a month max or salaries have to increase by a few dollars or so (I'd say the trouble is more with salaries - house ownership costs is not all that better than rental costs - but if you raise salaries small businesses will close and large ones will just cut employees - because the large ones are only concerned with maximizing profits and small businesses are barely hanging on).

Can we stop using "still lives with their parents" or "unemployed" or "doesn't have a drivers license" or "didn't graduate high school" as an insult or evidence that someone is a bad person? Struggling with independence or meeting milestones is not a moral failing.

[midnghtprentiss]

yours - jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

a/n: this is for “ a doctor day” which i am so happy to be a part of. it took me some time to think about something cool but i tried my best to work with this prompt. so i really really really hope you enjoy it as much as me. i tried to be subtle about the color cause in my head it means something really bigger. 

a big thank you to @letsgobarbs @ananonymousaffair @clubsoft for creating this project!!!

prompt: The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless.

color: pink.

word count: +3k

Everything started with an offer for you to go teach at a hospital in London. You were so excited, it was your dream since medical school and you’ve worked hard to experience the things you always wanted. It started small: residency, then you got masters and a doctorate. The job offer wasn’t out of the blue, they were watching your every move, gluing to the details of your incredible brain. 

You loved working at the ED, the adrenaline, the sight of doing something good and to actually do what you loved. You found valuable things there: friends, family and love. You found Jack there. He was your rock, the biggest supporter you could ever get and he couldn’t get in the way of you getting what you always wanted. The moment you told him what they offered he knew being selfish would kill him and letting you go would kill him either. 

The breakup was clean with a lot of tears and feelings. Too many words were said meaning the same thing: you loved him and he loved you more than anyone. 

“Will you miss me?” You whispered, cuddled with him. 

“Every day til you come back to me.” He smelled your hair, pulling you closer. 

So he let you go, even if meant to put his plans on stand by. The house, the ring, the children. He would wait and so did you. 

The day you left was the day he lost himself in his own mind. Jack was quieter, more introspective and a little sadder, Robby pointed out for Dana once. He was still capable of doing his job, of course he was. But you weren’t there to help him, to make funny remarks about him or to share a candy bar when the chaos finally stopped. You weren’t there for him to take you home, in fact, you were making yourself a home somewhere else that wasn’t with him. 

He was terrified of you meeting another person that could easily erase him from your mind. The idea of you marrying someone else haunted him more often than he could admit. He would never forgive himself if the children of another man had the eyes of the girl he couldn’t forget - his girl.

You stopped talking to each other as a silent agreement. It was easy to do your jobs if the anxiety of someone waiting for the call or text wasn’t on your mind all the time. Suddenly three months became three years and the lump in your throat, the knot in Jack’s chest, got loose. 

The countless nights you almost called him to hear his voice or text to know how he was doing, if he was eating, sleeping and trying to be a normal person. Jack almost did the same too. He dialed your number and gave up, he wrote you letters and a journal to inform you about how he was dealing with the distance.

You moved on, made friends, got yourself a home with the things you only dreamed off before and got your shit together. You were a really popular name among the medical teaching. You did some impressive research, amazing experiments and innovations on the field, especially on emergency education, the top of your field. Jack watched you from afar the whole time, he read your papers, he watched your online classes, he did everything to keep you close to him. And he waited patiently for you. 

Pitt was watching you again, they needed someone like you to teach new doctors on the night shift and to take the hospital to the next level, so they offered you another deal. 

You accepted right away. No questions asked. 

Your first call was to Robby and Dana, you decided to let them know you were coming back to work at the hospital again. They were really happy, especially Dana for getting her coffee partner back. You thought about texting Jack, but the uncertain feeling if we ever wanted to hear about you again made you tremble with fear, so you didn’t. Perhaps he already knew you were coming back. 

He did. 

The cold Pittsburg breeze brought back the familiar memories once again. The laughter, the tears, the pain and the comfort. You needed that so bad, you almost didn’t feel the moisture on your cheeks and your heavy breathing. 

Nothing like home, right?

You got into the hospital fifteen minutes before your shift started. You were overjoyed to be there surrounded by so many familiar faces. Princess and Perlah were the first ones to see you, for a fraction of seconds you almost missed their hugs. 

“You are so back! Thank God.” Princess held you tighter, shaking you in her arms. 

“I’m so glad to be back.” They let you go and you went straight to the nursing station, catching Robby and Dana’s attention. 

“I can’t believe my eyes.” Robby’s words made you blush, embracing them. “We missed you here, London.” 

“London?” You questioned him with eyebrows raised. 

“Only the best of us came back, I’m glad you did.” Dana whispered, kissing your temple. 

“I can’t wait to see you making these guys peed in their pants.” 

“It’s going to be a pleasure to make them fear me.” Robby gasped, making you laugh a little louder. 

The nurses joined in for a warm hug and some small talk, even Garcia showed up to see you and you were really surprised to find out she’s literally dating a girl from the residency. She just mouthed you that you talk more later and moved back to the OR. You really missed those people and suddenly life was so much better and lighter. 

He was watching everything from the other side of the room. His heart filled with something he couldn’t give a name right away. You looked different in his eyes. Maybe your hair, your bone structure, your cheeks. He didn’t know. Still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.  You were there, so close to him and he was paralyzed. Frozen in his own world. 

Jack spent nights imagining how he would react when you come back, how he would take you in his arms and forget the rest about the rest, kiss your face and plead you to not walk away ever again, to make his arms home once more. But you were right there and he lost his ability to move and be a fucking person. 

You caught his eyes and gave him a shy smile. Not going straight to him, giving the time you knew he was going to need before doing something else and besides, you were so involved with the crew that for a millisecond you forgot about the butterfly in your stomach almost making you throw up there. 

He wasn’t ready to talk to you. Not yet. Jack heard the rumors, he knew you’ll be back soon to be in the hospital again. Same shift, same people, different you, different him. He hated the change. At the same time, he needed to have you right over there next to him to make sure you weren’t going anywhere far from him. His mind was racing with millions of things and most of them were about you.

By the time the shift started, you were already with the students, talking about your work and what you expect them to do and learned from you. They noticed how smillish and nice you seem just for the way you lead them through the trauma bay introducing one by one to the team. First Shen, who was too energetic by your return to stop talking and then Ellis, who were all sweet and great with everybody else. Bridget couldn’t keep her hands to herself, hugging you in all the opportunities she had. And then Jack, he was serious the whole time, shaking the students hands and quickly looking at you. 

“This is the night shift crew. If I’m not around you can always ask them for help. Doctor Shen is the sweetest person here but you don’t want to piss him off. Dr. Ellis is an amazing teacher if you want to learn something and I’m pretty sure you want to, again guys, don’t piss her off.” You took a deep breath and looked at him. “This is doctor Abbot, he is the best trauma surgeon here and if I were you, I’ll try to be nice to him, he’s a surprise box to solve problems and rage Dr. Walsh.”

You tried your best to focus on them, ignoring his hot gaze on your face, reading you microexpressions like it was his newspaper. His presence made you overwhelmed enough to stumble in a few words. They introduced themselves to them and led them to the patients they were looking for at night. 

Jack liked the new version of you. Confident, smarter, better. Watching you teach was absolutely incredible, you delivered everything without problems, making these kids really think and understand what took him years to do. The more he looked, the more he wanted to take you home and forget about the three years you were gone. 

“Want a picture, Abbot?” You teased him, leaning against the counter with a tablet in hand. 

“If looking at a pretty thing is a crime put me in the fucking jail.” He crossed his arms, locking your gaze. 

“Good to know your taste hasn't changed.” 

“We’re talking about something really serious and I don’t play about anything that revolves around you.” He admitted, coming closer to where you were. “You were missed around here.” 

“I missed being here too.” Your words sounded like a whisper as he was getting closer. 

“We need to talk.” Jack held your arm, softly caressing your skin. 

“Abbot’s pancakes?” 

“You’re still bossy, wow.” He would do whatever you asked. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.” 

“Asshole.” You dismissed him, going the other way shaking your head. 

The next hours felt like you’ve never gone away for three years. The crew was the same you remembered but better and your tiredness didn’t turn out to be an issue. At 07 am you were pretty awake, the adrenaline was making you excited and you couldn’t stop moving around the room. 

You spent at least twenty minutes explaining about your patients to the day crew before really leaving the ER. It was a great day for you, the familiar taste of doing what you love with people you love made your heart ache with happiness. You were glad to be there again. 

Jack was waiting for you at the parking lot, hands in his pockets and eyes on you. You approached him slowly, stopping a few steps away. He watched your face with a discreet smirk, shaking his head. 

He followed you to your car, making sure you were safe enough to drive to his house - the same one you shared for almost two years. The unease on your chest was making you almost throw up in your car. You parked in the driveway, watching the house from the outside for a while. He was still watching you, he couldn’t stop himself from that. 

The small garden you cultivated was still intact, the pink flowers you loved and a few other plants that weren’t there before. He took care of the garden religiously for you. That was his way of hoping you come back to him. You walked towards the entrance slowly, capturing the details you missed while away. Jack finally put the swing on the front porch, like you planned on doing to make the house seem more cozy. 

“I thought it would be nice to sit here sometimes to watch the neighborhood.” He mentioned and opened the door for you. 

The inside was the same you remembered. The picture frames, the decoration. He changed some furniture but the rest looked the same. He still kept the picture of you two above the fireplace with the same flowers you used to put there. In your heed, when he did those things brought him some hope to believe you were coming back to him.

“You still buy the flowers?” You asked, turning your face to look at him. 

“Every wednesday at the farmers market.” He nodded, walking to the kitchen. 

Everything looked the same, like you never left. Even the cinnamon smell you absolutely loved lingered in the air. 

The kitchen was absolutely your favorite place in the house. You got to spend hours sitting at the table doing your shit or just baking whatever came to your head, sipping tea and being loved. Jack had the perfect vision from the living room when you were in the kitchen. He never told you but he had a lot of pictures of you sitting there existing like you’re the only God he believed. 

He served you some coffee and went back to the other side of the counter, putting the ingredients to do the pancakes you asked. The comfortable silence was pleasant, reminding you of the morning you shared in the same way: him doing the breakfast and you enjoying the view. 

“How was London? Last time I heard you were the chief of the trauma department there.” Jack was trying his best to avoid the topic he needed to talk about. 

“It was good. Cold, rainy and absolutely no pancakes.” You joked, crossing your arms over the table. “I had a good time, did things I only dreamed of, taught a lot of people and got to travel a bit.” 

“You traveled? Where did you go?” He seemed interested. 

“I went to visit Greece, did a tour around Italy with a couple of friends, my nephews came to visit me during winter and we went skiing in Switzerland.” You sipped more coffee, smiling at the memories. “I went to a safari, Jack!” Your words slipped in a funny way and he recognized how happy you were. “You would’ve loved that.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Suddenly he stopped in his tracks to finally watch you. 

You appeared relaxed, leaning against the chair, hair messed in a bun, jacket already off and barefoot. Looking like an absolute dream. Like the love of his life. 

“I missed you, you know? A lot.” You admitted, looking away from him. “I almost called you so many times and never had the courage to do it.” 

“I would’ve picked on the first ring.” He chuckled, mixing the ingredients trying to not stare for too long. “I wrote you some letters and a journal.” 

“You did?” Jack nodded, making you smile larger. “I may have taken some pictures of things and places that reminded me of you and kept them on an album to give to you. I hope you enjoy the crazy selfies and the endless comments on the people.” He laughed, picturing the scenes. 

He took his time to finish the pancakes, putting them on the table and sitting across from you with his cup of coffee. The dynamics between you haven’t changed at all, he still knew what you needed before you asked and you still read his face with ease. 

“I thought I had lost you forever.” Jack declared, making you stop. “The day I let you go was the worst day of my life, I felt so powerless and selfish. I couldn’t be the reason you give up your dreams because they were in you before I was present in your life and being the motive of your unhappiness was going to kill me.” You felt your stomach drop. “The nights feel dull and tasteless without you, I try to get through them but they seem so endless. The night shift sucked without you there, our bed was cold, I barely slept thinking about you.”

“The idea of you finding somebody else and deciding to marry and have children.” He didn’t continue and you held his hand. 

“Jack, I am yours and yours only.” You squeezed his hand. “I spent a few weeks crying before bed, wanting to run back to you. The day I went on that plane I left a piece of my heart with you. The life we were building, the plans, the marriage, the children.” You mumbled with tears, chuckling. “Never crossed my mind doing those things with anybody else. It’s always been you and it’s always gonna be. Besides, European guys are not that attractive.” His jaw tensed and you burst out laughing. “I’m just messing with you.” 

“I hate this.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, honey.” You winked, giggling under your breath. 

“Does this mean we can start over?” He asked, holding your gaze. 

“Always, Jack.” You smiled. 

That’s how after breakfast you ended up moving back to your place. The countless boxes with your stuff, bags filled with clothes and your favorite book collection around his living room. You were tired but nothing like the feeling of being home with him. Jack sent you to sleep a while later, finding you curled in his side of the bed, holding his pillow to smell his scent. 

He enjoyed the quietness of the morning to go through the album you made him. Pink cover with some shells and his name in gold letters. On the first page he found a small note you wrote. 

“To Jack.  I hope you know I thought about you a lot and these memories are an extension of my endless love for you.  Love, your girl.”

He couldn't contain a smile with the note, sighing as he passed to the next pages. The first real picture was you outside the hospital in London, bright smile, fearless, beautiful as ever. The note under the picture made him giggle, flushed.  

“You wished me good day before I took this. It was in fact a good day ‘cause I imagined you with me all the time.”

He kept passing the pages, amused by the great photos and the small remarks that sounded too much like you. His favorite was one of you sitting at the safari cart, wearing a pink cap, caressing a giraffe with one hand and with the other showing the necklace he gifted you a few years ago, the largest smile he’d ever seen, eyes shining and cheeks red from laughing. A look he recognized damn well. What made the picture even better was the small text. 

“I was in the safari in this. When theguide was tooking the picture the fucking lion roared next to the cart, almost peed my pants. Definitely not like Lion King, Disney lied to us. The cap was a gift from a child at the village I visited, he said it was to protect me and I truly believed in his words. The necklace is to represent you with me there and the giraffe, well, I’m in love. You would’ve loved this trip. I want to come back with you. Honeymoon maybe?”  Love, your (not so) wild girl.” 

He saw fragments of yourself, a version he was glad you enjoyed while doing the things you loved and still think about him so highly. He didn’t deserve you. Jack would never admit that you’re the light of his life, the shining star that guides him home every time he feels lost. 

You were exactly where you’re supposed to be. 

In his life, in his home, his bed, laying in his sheets with your favorite pink pajamas, being absolutely his. 

[crepezinhos]

Hello! I love your writing by the way and how you interpret Scaramouche/ wanderer is just 🤌🤌🤌

I would like to know your opinion about, what if there was an au where both Scaramouche and reader are in college. Reader takes on medical technology where she studied all about microbiology and all that stuffs and giz. When all of a sudden their professor tasked them that they would need to bring their own sperm cell for this assignment but reader doesn't know where to get some. But then it hit her, she finally knows someone who could help and all she needs is a little persuasion.

You don't have to answer it though or reply to it. It just an idea I had stuck in my brain for awhile huhu. But all in all, your writing is so good and well thought out and I would like to see how this turns out. Anyways love you and hope that you listen to it hihi >🩷🩷

Spurm of the Moment

POV: You need sperm to do a project in your biology class, but you’re a woman, and cannot get it in your own. You could get it in sperm banks, but that would probably cost you money... So why not use your dear friend to get that sperm?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is NSFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Blindfolding, bondage and overstimulation

— Wanderer x Biomedic Reader

— AU is: Modern

“Are you sure I have to be like this?” Wanderer asked as he tried pulling his arms away from the chair’s arm rests, testing out the ropes’ strength.

“Please, we both know how you are. You barely let me hug you when we’re hanging out already. Do you really think you’d let me do this to you freely? Don’t make me laugh…” You asked while still kneeling down in front of him, tightening the last rope around his left leg.

“What about the blindfold, then? How is that helping you?” But he kept trying to challenge you’d expect from him.

“I don’t want you to… witness.” You cleared your throat as you stood up from your spot.

“Oh? But you can take off my pants and jack my dick off as you wish?” You could still see his eyebrows frowning even if the blindfold covered his purple eyes. “Y’know, why didn’t you just ask me to jack off on my own?” He kept moving his hands in diverse ways as he spoke, enjoying one of the few freedoms he still had.

“I don’t trust you to be cautious with it.” You walked towards your desk, grabbing the other preparatives you needed for this moment such as rubber glover and the pot where you’d keep the semen in.

“You don’t trust me to beat my own meat?” Wanderer wheezed, lowing his head down momentarily.

“I trust you to do that, but not to be cautious and sanitary with the results.” After grabbing the prepartions and dressing the gloves around your hands, you walked back to him, kneeling in front of him ahain. “And, you did consent to this anyway…” You tried teasing him wth the truth, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” He kept himself broad to pretend he hadn’t lost that little argument.

“Just to make sure you aren’t starting to regret this… What is the safe word we agreed on?” You asked him a bit more seriously, looking up to him despite hs inability to stare back at you.

“Biology.” He answered very bored.

“Yes. Just like the main purpose of this.” You reminded him of that fact before your hands started to move down his chest. “May I?”

He nodded and you soon cupped his crotch with a hand, beginning to gently rub your palms against his organ to get him erect.

“Shit…” Wanderer turned his head to the side while biting his inferior lip to stop himself from making any louder noises compared to the short grunts from the back of his throat. “What kind of lesson is this anyway..?” He fixed his throat, trying to maintain his dignity.

“We have a project to examine sperm cell behavior of different people under certain conditions.” You answered neutrally, focusing more on his slightly-hardened organ rather than his anger.

“Are you the only woman in their class or something?! Why would he not give the cells already?!” Wanderer kept trying to argue with you and distract himself from the pressure you were applying on him.

“Hmmmm… I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to think about less awkward alternatives now that you were getting what you needed.

So, trying to get him to stop protesting, you finally put your whole hand under his underwear and pulled out his dick out of it, finally springing it free. When Wanderer felt your gloved fingers enveloping his pink tip is when he started fighting back again.

“Aren’t there any sperm banks in the school?! O-Or maybe in the city?!” His head was looking down at where the motions were going to happen, trying to somehow have a bit of control and awareness of his situation.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late to protest about it now?” You spoke a bit ironically, circling those same fingers around him to give him a starter.

“You minx…” You could clearly see his fists gripping around the edges pf the seat as you teased him, taking it all out on it.

“You know you like it.” You blinked to him, finally beginning to occupy his mind with more pleasure.

Your fingers were jerking him gently and slowly, going all the way to the tip of his urethra down to base of his cock. It was a tortuous rhythm that was certainly tensing him up for more. His own fingers would slightly scratch the chair to relieve himself and hope it’d make him more silent around you, feet tapping the floor nervously.

“You know… this would be faster if you told me about anything you like during these moments for me to do.” You suddenly decided to open your mouth to give him that suggestion, deciding to use your other hand to gently get a hold of his testicles to test him out.

Wanderer flinched as soon as he felt you touch that region, skin visibly shivering. A bothered grunt also came out of his throat in response, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks.

“J-Just… stroke me faster.” He fixed his throat again as you smirked at the facade he was trying to pose to you.

But you did as he wished and proceeded to stroke him faster, still trying your best to tease his tip the most so he could ejaculate as soon as possible. It was now a bit harder for Wanderer to jail his noises, meaning he had to try even harder to keep his mouth shut, and those efforts were making this whole moment way more awkward for you too.

“You can moan, y’know? I would expect you to.” You turned your face to him, but seeing his face made you too embarrassed to keep looking at it that bravely, so you abruptly turned away and started looking at the floor instead.

“I don’t want you to listen…” He quickly mumbled before another moan took his vocal chords over and forced him to shut his mouth again.

“Alright, then… But it is going to become worse for you.” You said while making the circle between your middle, ring finger and your thumb tighter, trying to squeeze him more.

“For fuck’s sake…” Wanderer’s hips trying to recoil away from you, but that was impossible due to his legs being tied to the chair’s too, so he had no choice but to relieve himself by stretching his legs and arching his back, his feet facing the roof.

If only he wasn’t wearing shoes… You were pretty sure all his fingers would be spread apart too from that heavy pleasure wave you gave him, but you had no choice but to move on from that and keep focusing on pulling out that orgasm from him.

This moment was as awkward for him as it was for you. You’d never expect someone as reserved as him to let you do this to him, and actually doing it felt bizarre. Now you knew how his dick looked like, and you could probably imagine how it fit and looked under his pants. How would look at him normally again? How would he look at you normally again? Maybe you should’ve been more creative with your problem-solving skills instead of insisting on this. But at the same times you couldn’t blame yourself for him accepting to do this so… easily.

“I know it’s very weird, but… It would be really helpful if you could help me do this faster.” Now it was your turn to fix your throat to pretend you didn’t have an awkwardness in the tip of your tongue.

“… Ok.” He accepted your commission very neutrally, arms crossed as if he was bored and not surprised at all.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly taking you seriously and didn’t realize the gravity of what he put himself into.

“I hope I’m successfully stimulating you and not just… doing this for nothing.” You laughed your embarrassment away, trying to cool the mood between you two.

“Y-You’re good.” He mumbled, a bit too embarrassed to confess his satisfaction with all of this.

“Tell me when you’re close, okay?” You looked at the pot sitting at the floor by your side, wondering when would you finally use it.

“Ok…” Wanderer moaned under his throat again, still holding himself back.

Hearing his confirmation, you kept working your hands in his organ, trying your best to recreate the tips you’ve read in the internet about how to make a guy reach his orgasm quickly. Your right hand was basically twisting itself within every pump to provoke his sized cock while sometimes gripping it a bit harder on purpose to cause a bit of pleasurable pain. Meanwhile, your left hand were still massaging his balls and caressing them with thumb, but way more carefully compared to your other hand. You knew that it was a very sensible and fragile part of the male body and you had no idea if Wanderer would like you to mess with it any harder, so you had no choice but to be gentle despite your want to end this as soon as possible.

“I-I think I’m close…” Wanderer suddenly threw his head back, a high-pitched moan escaping his lips after holding himself back so much.

“Are you? Really?” You asked, turning your eyes back to him, seeing his mouth hanging open from the overstimulation.

“Y-Yeah, yeah… Go faster…” He asked, cheeks growing a bit redder from asking you such an embarrassing question.

You nodded and started pumping him faster, dropping all those techniques you were trying to use to focus on man tuning that growing momentum, including his testicles so you could grab the pot. And it seemed to be working because Wanderer started hissing quite frequently to get rid of his need to groan.

“A-Almost there..!” Wanderer’s feet begun dragging themselves against the floor again, trying to contain his pleasure, his hips trying to jerk upwards to feel more friction and allow himself to free that aching knot in his balls.

Unfortunately, despite his warning, Wanderer was still not ejaculating at all, which worried you a bit.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked, almost laughing in pure nervousness.

“Yes… yes, yes, yes…” His eyebrows kept twitching and frowning as closure suffocated him, his feet still trying to stretch on the wooden floor.

You grabbed the pot sitting in front of you and you put it in his tip, readying yourself for his orgasm. Now all that would come out of him would directly go inside there with no chance of escape. But then Wanderer’s orgasm snapped pretty soon after you did that, making the timing of your placing of the pot perfect.

Wanderer bit his inferior lips again, simply hissing all his way through it instead of just letting those caged moans go for once. All his cum was going to the pot as expected, but you had to do some effort to keep it all together due to how strongly he was cumming. His hips were jerking forwards to the most they could, hand fingers all spread and aggressive with the poor chair.

“Shit!” He also kept insulting the nothing around him out of nowhere for no apparent reason rather than just coping with the high amounts of pleasure being release.

Soon enough, his cock stop twitching inside the pot, signaling you that it was over. So you pulled it out and angled it back to its normal position to make the semen stuck on the walls to drip down to the bottom of the pot. Meanwhile, Wanderer was just completely melted in the chair, breathing in and out heavily to refresh himself.

“Aaaaand…” You voiced as you reached for the jar’s cover and begun spinning around the pot, stopping when it wasn’t possible to do so anymore. “Done!” You cheered excitedly while getting up and moving to your table.

You carefully placed the pot in a corner and grabbed a packet of blank stickers, beginning to rip one off of it to use it, but Wanderer finally recovered his logical thinking.

“Are you not going to untie me?! It was supposed to be the first thing to do!” He complained, sitting his body in the chair normally again.

“Wait.” You said, trying to focus on stick the sticker in the pot in anyway it wouldn’t be curved or off the center in the slightest.

“You better hurry up… It is very uncomfortable to be in this chair…” Wanderer used an ironic tone to complain about you, trying his best to annoy you to get what he wanted.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it at first.” You decided to pause your pot-labeling to give him attention, speaking very snobbishly too.

“Yeah, but now I’m just barely sitting naked here with no moving rights!” He resisted your argument, trying to move his arms and legs again to show you how tight he was against that chair.

“Fine, fine…” You got up from your chair and quickly moved to him, wanting to get that extra task done as soon as possible.

And soon enough, as soon as you took off his blindfold and freed his hands, Wanderer zipped his zipped back to its upper end as soon as possible, a loud high-pitched noise accompanying it. And when you were done freeing his legs, he kicked the hanging ropes around it away and quickly moved away, stretching his limbs apart to taste that sensation of freedom again.

“Holy fuck.” Wanderer moaned as he looked at his hand and tested their flexibility, seeing its fingers bend, his thumb rolling, and his wrists, still aching from the ropes, rotating as he commanded them to do so.

But you ignored him to focus on the sticker in the pot again, finally managing to stick it in the place you wanted it to be. Then, you proceeded to grab one of your many pens and, specifically the black one, and open it just to quickly write “Semen” on the almost-transparent red, straight, middle line of the sticker, and pop the cover back to its place in the pen.

“Gee, I hope I never meet another Biomedicine freak like you again…” He suddenly insulted you, which surprisingly made you turn your chair to him because you had a little twist that you forgot to tell him about.

“Well… It’s with this Biomedicine freak you’re stuck with for the rest of the month.” You tried to keep yourself calm, but you knew that would make him confused.

“What?” He turned to you, with a confused expression in his face you which you could take a picture of.

“Throughout the month I’m probably gonna need some more loads of semen to do the testing…” You watched his eyes widening very entertained, trying your best to not laugh.

“What do you mean?” He asked, in the brim of having a panic attack.

“I forgot to mention to you that little fact, but… I’ll eventually need more semen to compare it to this original sample.” You brought the pot to your hands and lightly shook it, showing Wanderer his own sperm. “Unless you want to cancel this and force me to redo everything I’ve done yet… You’ll have to be my provider this whole month!” You said excitedly, knowing damn well it would make him snap.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?!” He shook his arms around very stressed.

“Oopsies! Forgot!” You turned your chair back to the table. “If you’re that bothered, I’ll just throw this a—”

“NO!” He screamed, slightly surprising you. “I-I mean… I can’t let this whole shit we just did go to waste!” He explained himself, convincing you to turn back to him again.

“Oh? Or maybe you’re jealous with the thought of me doing that same shit with another man?” You decided to keep teasing him with a smirk in your lips.

“O-Of course not! Why would I ever feel jealous for you?!” As soon as he finished talking, Wanderer wheezed and put his hands in his face, trying to control himself. “I-I’m gonna get going…” His calm, cold tone came back as he spoke and walked around your room.

Since he hadn’t brought anything, all he had to do was leave your room. But right before he actually could slam your door shut and run very far from your apartment, he suddenly walking, and froze in his place for a few seconds before turning back to you.

“Don’t you dare think about throwing that away.” He pointed to your pot very aggressively, body visibly hard as he threatened you.

And the door was finally slammed to its closed state.

Taglist: @bigmantiddys @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @kindofshyent @sasuri123 @gaboplaydespacito @thegriffinbird @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub @wandereryumee @shy-ent

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[storiesoflilies]

warnings: descriptions of smoking, injuries, and war. sfw.

when you first saw soldier!toji he looked far too out of place.

he’d come in with the other wounded that had been dragged in from the front lines. tall and broad, a god made of dark smoke that filled the washed out grey of the hospital tent. he was deathly quiet as he sat at the edge of a cot, stained shirt clinging to the expanse of his chest, his boots caked in mud and blood. you’d heard him refuse to lie down, seen him wave his hand for the fussing medic to just leave him alone.

you were confused why someone like him was in here.

he looked invincible.

“i don’t need all this,” you heard him snap again, his green eyes flashing as he stood up. “just quickly fix me so i can go.”

toji plonked himself down in front of you, heavy and crass, a dark brow quirked at you expectedly. his eyes swept over your nurse in training uniform, at your fraying sleeves that used to be a crisp white. he met your gaze without blinking, and you tried hard not to stare at the dried blood embedded into the scar on his lip.

“can you stitch me up?” he grunted.

you swallowed thickly and nodded, biting the inside of your cheek, already reaching for a needle.

“good,” he said, and he was already pulling off his shirt before you could ask him to.

your eyes widened at the gash running all the way up his side, and you instinctively reached over for the morphine.

a large, impossibly warm hand enveloped your wrist firmly.

“no,” was all toji murmured. “i don’t need it.”

and just like that, you found yourself patching up a god sitting in your cot. he never flinched once, not even a hiss of pain. only an all consuming silence. like his nerves had long since stopped bothering him at all.

-•-

you weren’t supposed to let him in.

there was a golden rule you were often warned to never break. never get attached to anybody, least of all the soldiers you treated. never get drawn into their eyes or their pain, never let them charm you, and never be stupid enough to go and fall in love with them.

but toji, he had a certain gravity to him.

you couldn’t stop yourself.

at first, he never bothered to learn your name. it was if he had that same golden rule to never get attached to anybody. he just called you doc, and you weren’t sure if he was mocking you or not, especially after you’d told him that you were still a nurse in training and to stop calling you that.

you also don’t know why he kept showing up to your cot.

he’d breeze through the infirmary, skipping past the other more senior nurses and medics to come straight to you. his fingers would pull away at his bandages, a sort of formality, his way of saying hello to you, maybe. a way to let you know that he needed help and that you were the only person he wanted touching him.

you had to stop yourself from smiling at that.

“you really shouldn’t be here,” toji said one night, his eyes fixed on the floor as you cleaned out a shallow wound on his arm. “you should be somewhere safer than here.”

you furrowed your brows. “what?”

“this isn’t the kind of place for someone who jumps every time they hear a gun go off.”

you didn’t think you still did, you’ve been here for months.

you didn’t think anybody had noticed.

“doesn’t matter,” you shrugged your shoulders. “the silence is worse, sometimes.”

he looked up at you. “oh?”

you met his gaze, fresh gauze in your hand, fingers grazing his bicep. “because every time it gets quiet, it means whatever has happened out there is over, and anything left is mine to fix.”

that made him pause.

he watched you for a beat longer than was necessary.

“fair enough,” he muttered.

-•-

you started to notice things about toji too.

the way he never sat with the rest of his unit, a shadow in the corner as he ate his rations. the way he cleaned his pocket knife with the heel of his left boot. the way he always kept his gun pristine. the way he walked out of the infirmary with a new scar and not a word of complaint, seemingly ignoring every time you told him to be more careful.

he never thanked you for helping him.

not out loud, anyway.

but one day, you found a tin of dried peaches in your pack. it was a rare ration, not one you were privy to often. a day later, a crumbling chocolate bar was tucked away neatly underneath your pillow.

you knew it was toji.

and you definitely knew not to say a word about it.

another night, he was standing outside the infirmary. you were one of the last to leave, your shift having ended quite a few hours ago, but you just couldn’t go. your mind was racing, back aching from being hunched over one too many bodies, fingers stained with the scent of iodine.

it had been… a rough day, to say the least.

you’d spent a few hours just restocking shelves, checking over all the soldiers in their cots. you changed dressings and cleaned things that you knew would only be dirty again in a few hours.

you didn’t care.

going to sleep didn’t feel right.

but there was toji just outside, waiting for you.

at least, you thought he was. he was leaning against the side of a supply truck, one foot braced against the wheel, his sleeves tucked up to his elbows. a cigarette dangled between his lips, his skin honeyed with the glow of his lit match. he didn’t look up at you, not right away, just took a slow drag of his cigarette and watched the smoke that he was made of drift away from him.

“you always finish up this late?” he asked, voice gravely.

his voice sounded familiar to you, you thought. it was the sound of someone who’d seen too much and didn’t sleep enough. you knew it because it was like yours too.

you crossed your arms tightly together, breath fogging in the cold night air. “the others need the rest.”

he turned to look at you, his face half shrouded in pale moonlight.

your breath hitched.

“you don’t sleep much, do you?”

you hesitated. “not really.”

toji exhaled, pursing his lips. he reached into his back pocket, pulled something out, and held it towards you.

a cigarette, half-crushed, but still dry.

“i don’t smoke,” you mumbled quickly.

toji shrugged nonchalantly, but the small smile playing on his face told you he didn’t mind. “didn’t ask you to.”

you smiled, and took it anyway.

-•-

the worst came at dusk.

when the sky split open like a skull and the ground shuddered beneath your feet as the shells came screaming down around you. the alarms were blaring, people scrambling around for shelter, ducking behind crates, clutching helmets with their hands.

a roar of noise, a rush of air whistled in your ears.

and then, black.

you woke to dust coating your throat, settling into your lungs like an old friend. there was blood filling your mouth too, warm and bitter. there was someone screaming, you think, maybe they next to you. you couldn’t tell. everything was muffled, and god, why was there this crushing weight on your chest?

“hey!” a voice shouted through the ringing in your ears. rough, familiar. “you with me?”

your eyes adjusted, and you blinked twice, three times.

toji.

he was on his knees beside you, uniform riddled with burn holes, a rivulet of blood trickling down his temple.

“stay awake,” he ordered sharply. “you hear me?”

you couldn’t answer. you just watched him as he curled his hands around the beam that was squeezing the life out of you, his muscles straining as he lifted it off you and threw it far away like it was poison.

“i had to come back,” he hissed, a strange tightness in his voice that you’d never heard before. “you’re so stubborn, i told you to get outta he–”

you were far too dazed to listen to him chastise you.

you couldn’t even move.

but when toji just hoisted you up and into his arms, you felt like you’d finally found your way home again.

-•-

when you came to again, it was probably around midnight.

the tent you were in was barely holding up. the canvas was torn, corners sagging under the weight of the rain and ash. a single oil lamp burned in the corner, a golden glow filling the space, but it didn’t make you feel warm.

and at your side was toji.

he was seated on an overturned crate, bloodied and impossibly still. cigarette ash dusted the ground beneath him in little pile.

“you’re awake.”

you tried to speak, but nothing came out properly.

“you got lucky,” toji added, smoke curling from his nose. “you could’ve been crushed.”

your hand moved before you could stop it, reaching for him.

he froze.

just for a moment.

and then he was pressing something cold and hard into your palm.

his dog tags.

you looked up at him in alarm.

“i have to go,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes, his hands still wrapped around yours. “i just...”

he didn’t finish, he didn’t have to. it was an unspoken thing in the air, but it was as real as the warmth in his hands.

if toji fushiguro wasn’t going to come back, he didn’t want you to know about it.

“i know,” was all you could manage.

toji held your gaze for a moment longer, then he stood.

and just like that, he turned and left without another word.

-•-

for three weeks there was nothing.

no letters.

no news.

no body.

you didn’t ask around. it was easier not to know. every day bled slowly into the next. as you fiddled with the dog tags around your neck. you cleaned his tags all the time to take your mind off everything when it was quiet.

and when nobody was looking, you pressed them to your lips.

you realized toji had been sparing you. you don’t know what you’d do if you heard his name called and knew that he was really gone. it was better to pretend he was still alive out there somewhere, smoking in the dark. every day you watched the trucks roll in. every day you checked the faces of the soldiers in those trucks, silently hoping that toji was in one of them, alive. you didn’t realize how hard your hands were shaking, didn’t realize how hollow your chest felt each time a canvas sheet was pulled back from another face.

not until your senior held them in hers and told you to sit there and just breath.

it was another grey day, bitter and cold, when you heard the familiar rumble of more supply trucks pulling into the camp. a convoy of men were slumped over in the back of the truck, uniforms dusty and torn, their faces blank and eyes sunken. there was a heavy fog hanging low like smoke, and the ground was still soft from the rain the night before. you were wrapping up a soldier’s wrist when the last truck pulled in. there was a loud call for stretchers and hands, and a flurry of motion erupted around you.

you looked up, and there he was.

toji.

alive.

you stared, hard. there was a choking sound clawing its way up from behind your throat and out of your mouth. the clean roll of bandage slipped from your fingers and into the mud.

his eyes lifted and found yours amidst the chaos.

toji didn’t wave at you. he stood there like he was a ghost. like he couldn’t quite believe he was here and that this was all real and you were real. you were running before you could think straight. your boots splashed through puddles as you shoved past medics and the throng of soldiers unloading the truck, the cold wind biting at your cheeks.

he didn’t move until you were right in front of him.

and then, slowly, carefully, he reached up with a bandaged hand to touch your face.

your voice cracked, your heart in your throat. “what took you so long?”

toji huffed something that you thought might be a laugh, weak and raw, as he pulled you into him.

he didn’t kiss you right away. he just held you close for a while. one of his arms was in a sling, pressed gently between the two of you, and the other rested on the small of your back. his lips were on your neck as he buried his face into you, breathing deeply. you held onto him tight, feeling the way his ribs moved beneath your fingers with every shaky breath he took.

then his lips were on yours.

it wasn’t hungry or urgent. it was deliberate, patient. toji fushiguro was a god, and yet, he kissed you like a man who wanted to savor you slowly. to learn the way your lips moved against his. to feel the way you melted into him, soft and yielding, molding yourself around him like a warm blanket against the cold.

toji fushiguro kissed you like it was the only thing he knew anymore.

in a way, it was the same you.

-•-

he couldn’t stay for long, you knew that.

three days later, toji’s unit was deployed again. the sky was still pale with the light of the dawn, and the air smelt like wet earth and gunpowder. you tried to give him back his dog tags, but he only shook his head.

“hold onto them for me,” he murmured with a small smile. “that way i have to come back to you.”

you smiled back, but it was tight, thin around the edges. you never liked to see him go.

“come back anyway.”

and he did.

again and again.

each time more bruised. more battered and aching. but he always found you. like his soul knew where yours was. you never asked what he’d seen, or what he’d done out there. you wondered how much longer the war would drag on. how many more times you had to watch toji come and go like a god of war, called to a battle nobody else could fight except for him. how many more nights you’d sleep with your hands pressed your ears to drown out the noise.

then, the war finally ended.

and still, toji found you.

you were waiting for him at the train station, because you already knew toji fushiguro would be the last one to come home. there he was, uniform all cleaned up and boots shining in the morning sun, a duffle bag strung over his shoulder. and you were there in your nurse’s uniform, fingers still smelling faintly of iodine.

toji walked straight to you, no hesitation, no time wasted.

“well, doll,” he started, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “guess i owe you a drink.”

you only laughed, standing on your toes and throwing your arms around his neck.

“you owe me your life, fushiguro,” you smiled, your lips brushing his.

toji kissed you then, slow and grounding, a god tasting real peace for the first time.

it made you feel full.

of promise, of peace.

of home.

“take it,” he murmured against your mouth. “it’s always been yours.”

-•-

©storiesoflilies 2025, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

@alialucille i hope you enjoy <3

[vonnegutchild]

@naamahdarling I think I got your back!

(This is not formal medical advice, see a physician if you have medical concerns, etc etc)

UCSF has a website designed for people in medicine; if your provider seems well-meaning but does the “I don’t know about your specific care,” you can refer them to this:

Sections and language can be a little outdated (the presumption that folks on T are necessarily trans men and not nb or just transmasc, for example), but it’s the result of a lot of research and experience.

Now, the site doesn’t go into breakthrough bleeding in menopause specifically, but it does stress the importance of screening for cervical cancer. However, the longer you’ve been on testosterone, the harder it can be to collect a sample. The site has advice for providers on potential techniques to increase your comfort, and mentions that—in the future—there may be potential in patients collecting their own Pap smears, which obviously would be more comfy. Data pending on that.

In terms of endometrial cancer, I’ll just copy paste, cause they say it pretty clearly:

“A number of sources have recommended endometrial surveillance with annual pelvic ultrasounds in transgender men who are amenorrheic [ie aren’t having periods], however this recommendation is not evidence based. This recommendation may also be unrealistic since transgender men report avoiding gynecologic care due to lack of cultural competency among providers.

As such, routine screening for endometrial cancer in transgender men using testosterone is not recommended. Unexplained vaginal bleeding (in the absence of missed or changed dosing of testosterone) in a patient previously with testosterone-induced amenorrhea should be explored. (Grading: X C M). Transgender men should be educated on the need to inform their provider in the event of unexplained vaginal bleeding.” Basically: if you weren’t having menses with T, and you suddenly do, the same rules apply, whether pre- or postmenopausal! If they didn’t change your dose of testosterone, and you’ve still been taking it regularly, that’s a red flag worth investigating.

Lastly, one more resource: Kelli Dunham has a zine specifically about how to get through a Pap smear (and the preceding steps, like how to find a provider for one), which is still a critical tool to early cancer detection in people with a uterus.

https://www.kellidunham.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Fuck-Your-Health-1-Pap-Exam-booklet-file.pdf

Sorry if this is pontificating, but I hope this is helpful in some way!

fresh, clean no-terf version for reblogs!

Your mom and aunts aren’t on tumblr.  Please warn them about this as well. 

[0deathpainting0]

i got u

jinwoo sung x f!reader

summary: babying jinwoo after a mining assignment

warnings: 18+ swearing, minor injuries, bathing?, handjob, fingering, p in v, some overstim, raw, creampie

a/n: so i think everyone should watch solo leveling ok! n e ways i do think this man would also be soft and whiny but ofc there’s that switch that flips 🤤

w/c: 2.8k

                                        ≽^•⩊•^≼

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Jinwoo still took mining assignments weekly for two main reasons.. Maybe three. 

The first reason was so he could continue to stash money. Sure he makes more than enough now but he’ll never forget that constant struggle to pay medical bills and save for his sister's tuition. Never again would he live like that or allow his family or you to live like that. So regardless of his skill or rank or how much he had saved he would show up with his head low and grab an axe before heading in with the crew. 

The next reason he took the mining assignments was because of the ego boost he received when he was noticed. The way their axe would fall to the ground as they looked up at him. From the hunter that was made fun of to this always makes his mind spin. He would offer them a smile before turning back and hammering his axe down into the crystal. Once he harvested all he could he would bid them farewell and make his way home to you. 

Which leads to the last reason, your doting hands and whispered hisses of being more careful. He would swing the axe a little more recklessly than needed and scrape up his hands. He would fall to the ground to collect the crystals with more force than necessary to allow small bruises to blossom by the time he got home. Now he wasn’t a sadist.. Well.. He wasn’t inflicting these things to himself for nothing. He did it for the extra tenderness you showed him when he would get home. 

The moment he opens the door you jump off the couch and run over to him. He leans down for a kiss but you push his chest back to assess him. You tsk at his hands and look lower and see the new holes in the knees of his pants. You look up at him with narrowed eyes and he offers you a sheepish smile. You grab his wrist and start to tug him into the bathroom. You start the bath and turn to him with a pout. 

“Are you okay?” you look him over again and he nods his head. “Nothing serious?” you and him both know that he would’ve taken something if it would have been life threatening. 

“No.” he shakes his head, stepping closer to you.

“What kind of bubbles do you want?” you watch as he starts to pout. 

“I want a kiss.” he leans down. 

“Bath first.” you warn but he keeps inching down. 

“Think a kiss from you would cure me.” he hovers his face an inch from yours. You press your lips to his quickly and pull back watching his eyes darken. “That was barely a kiss.” 

“What kind of bubbles?” you hum, turning to rummage through the drawer. 

“You gonna take a bath with me?” you can’t help but lean back into him as he comes behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

“No.” you grab out a bottle of soap and duck under his arm to make your way back to the tub. You pour it into the running water to help it mix and try to hold back your laughter at his over dramatic sigh.

“Why?” he whines and you turn to him with raised brows. 

“Cause I gotta clean you up and put bandaids on you.” he tosses his head back. “And the last time I did, you kept distracting me.” you turn off the bath water and nod for him to get in. 

“Will you help me take my clothes off?” his tone still has a hint of a whine in it. 

“You are such a baby.” you walk over to him and start to push up his shirt. He watches you flush as he pulls his shirt over his head. He starts to grab at your shirt with a soft smirk. “Take off your pants while I grab the bandaids.” you pry his fingers off and place a small kiss on one of his bruised knuckles before walking over to the drawers again. 

“But you’re gonna miss the best part.” he chuckles and you turn around. 

“I’m watching.” you blink at him from across the bathroom and he watches you try to fight the smile blooming across your face.

“Want me to give you a little show?” he starts to fumble with his belt and lets it drop to the ground. “Don’t look at me with that face.” he slowly unbuttons his pants and slowly starts to pull them down. You hum and nod at him to keep going. “Oh no.. my knees hurt so bad.” you watch the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Can you help me?” 

“Jinwoo,” you sigh, dragging yourself over to him. 

“Please,” he grabs your hands. “Your touch is so soft.” he pushes his bottom lip out. You hook your fingers onto his pants and start to sink to the ground with them. You pat his calf and he steps out of his pants. “Fuck,” a shiver trails up his spine as you kiss his already bruising knees. 

“These too.” you hum and let your fingertips brush against the hem of his briefs. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and hooks his thumbs into the waistband. You grab the material once he lowers it enough and you look up at him and see his pink cheeks as you pull them the rest of the way down. “I uh.. I think I need a kiss there too.” he cups your jaw. 

“Get in the bath, Jinwoo.” you raise your eyebrows starting to rise from the floor. “I‘m gonna go put a towel in the dryer to warm up for you.” 

He turns and steps into the steaming water as you start to grab the bandaids and cleaner before taking the towel to the dryer. He lets out a low groan as he’s wrapped in warmth and sweet smells. He lets his eyes close the lower he sinks into the water. You silently walk back over to his side and kneel down next to the tub and begin to run your fingers through his hair. He pouts when you remove your hand to grab one of his and start to gently clean his knuckles. 

“Funny that you can come home from big missions without a scratch on you but a mining assignment turns you into a baby.” you muse as you grab his other hand. 

“‘m sorry.” he mumbles, absorbed in your touch. 

“You don’t have to be.” you glance at his relaxed face. “Knees up I wanna make sure you didn’t get any dirt in the scratches.” you smile when he shifts, allowing his knees to poke out of the water. 

You and him both know he’s perfectly fine. You caught onto his antics by the third week but to be honest you didn’t mind because you enjoyed seeing him so relaxed. It gave you an excuse to outright worship him and gave him the feeling of calm as you brushed over his skin. 

“So what’s my diagnosis?” you look up at his face and see his soft smile. “Am I dying?” 

“Nothing a couple hello kitty bandaids and kisses won’t fix.” you reach up and brush his hair back. “Nothing else hurts?” you slide your hand down and rub your thumb across his cheek. 

“No.” he leans into your hand. 

“Mm,” you hum. “I expected a different response.” 

“Oh,” he nods, catching on. “Yeah.” he looks at you with lidded eyes. “Just get in the tub with me.” he offers you a soft pout. You rise on your knees and lean closer to him and press your lips to his. He shifts and goes to grab your waist to pull you in with him. 

“Once you’re out of the tub.” you mumble against his lips as you press a hand to his chest. He sinks back into the water never letting your lips part from him for too long. “Tell me where it hurts, Jinwoo.” your hand on his chest starts to slide lower. 

“Keep going.” his words breathy. “Yeah, lil bit lower.” he cracks his eyes open as your hand dips below the water and he pulls back slightly to watch.

“Here?” you tilt your head as your fingers wrap around his cock. 

“Yeah.” he nods his head quickly. 

“Yeah?” you hum as you brush your thumb over his tip. 

His hips jerk and you smile leaning closer to him and pressing your lips against his again. You leisurely stroke him while you let your tongue slowly push into his mouth. You quicken your movements and he moans into your mouth. You dip your head lower to kiss and softly bite across his neck and you feel him twitch in your hand. He’s completely melted into your touch and can’t get enough.

“I’m..” he groans as you tighten your grip. “You’re so fuckin good to me.” his voice like gravel. “Don’t think I’m gonna last..” and that whiny string of words is exactly why you don’t mind the mining assignments either. 

“S’okay, just relax.” you mumble against his skin. 

“You always know exactly how to- “ he gasps when your hand sinks lower to cup his balls before sliding back up his length. “Fuck.” he pants. 

He can’t stop his hips from jerking into your hand and trying to keep his mouth shut only makes the noises coming out more guttural. The water is sloshing slightly and you can help but to lean back and watch his face twist in pleasure. His stomach coils as your hand moves faster and the way you brush your thumb against his tip. You watch his chest heave and he leans closer to you to press his lips to yours. 

“Fuck, I-“ he lets out a low groan as his hips desperately jerk into your hand as his pleasure washes through him. 

“Are you feeling better?” you press soft kisses across his face as you slowly pull your hand out of the water. 

“Wanna take you to bed.” he leans back and looks at you with dark eyes. 

“I‘m gonna go get your towel.” he watches you stand up. “Then it’s bandaid time.” you toss over your shoulder as you go to get his towel. 

He stands and starts draining the tub not wanting to waste any more time than necessary. After grabbing the bandaids he starts to walk to the room when you stop him in the doorway. 

“You’re gonna get water everywhere.” you huff and wrap the towel around him trying to dry him off before wrapping it around his waist. 

“I don’t want this.” he starts to tug at the towel. “Just gonna take it off anyway.” he lets it drop. He watches your cheeks flush as you lead him over to the bed. “Let’s skip the bandaids tonight.” 

“Jinwoo-

“Then can I just like put it in until you're done?” your eyes widen. “I’ll be good.” the corners of his mouth turn up. 

“Then lay back.” you nod at the bed. 

“Well lemme get you ready.” he smirks starting to pull up your shirt. He watches your skin pebble as you look up at him. “These too.” he hums and hooks his fingers into your panties. 

“Take them off then.” you suck in your breath as his finger trails up your covered slit. 

“Did I get you wet from my bath?” he tilts his head and he presses into the dampened fabric. “Hm?” a small whimper slips past your lips as he dips his finger below your panties. 

“Ye- yeah,” you grab onto his arms as he swirls your bud. 

“No bandaids tonight.” he mumbles, moving his finger down to your core. 

“Yes banda- ahh,” you press your head to his chest as he pushes his finger into you. “Jinwoo,” he smirks as you rock against his hand. 

“Yes?” he presses another finger into you and you let out a soft cry. “What was that?” he smiles listening to you struggle to find your words. He opens his mouth to say something when you wrap one of your hands around his cock again and he groans instead. 

“Want you.” you mumble into his chest and he pushes your panties the rest of the way down. In a second you're pressed back into the mattress and he’s leaning over you. “No, ‘m supposed to ride you.” you press your palm to his chest. “It’s your night to relax.” 

“‘s fine.” he slides his tip through your wetness, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. 

“But.. mm,” you look up at him with lidded eyes as he wraps one of your legs around his waist. 

“I’m very relaxed.” he leans down when your hand on his chest moves up to the back of his neck as he continues to slide up and down through your slit. “Gonna be even more relaxed in a second.” you feel him push at your weeping core.

“Ji- Jinwoo,” you whimper as he slides into you. 

“Always taking care of me.” he hums as he starts to pull out. “Look so perfect.” he watches your face scrunch with pleasure as he pushes back in. “Feeling so much better thanks to you.” each thrust pulls a small cry from your lips.

He leans down and presses his mouth to yours. You open your lips instantly offering him everything. Your hands tangle in his hair as you try to hold him closer. Each time his skin meets yours you feel yourself vibrate with pleasure. You wrap your other leg around his waist and lock your ankles feeling his breathing shift. The new angle sends his head soaring and the only warning you have is a breathy chuckle before he slams into you. 

Your eyes roll back as he pounds into you and he leans back to watch the way you tremble beneath him. His eyes fixate on the way your tits bounce along with each accompanying whine. Your parted lips offering him the sweetest sounds and slurred pleas with your arms spread out in the sheets trying to grasp at anything. He feels your juices seeping out of you and they way you begin to flutter around him. He watches you crack your eyes open and look at him with desperation. 

“Go ahead.” he grunts preparing himself for- “Fuck,” he groans as you start to pulse around him. 

“Jinwoo,” you whine, feeling your legs start to shake as he continues at his pace. “I’m.. I, please,” 

“Doing so good.” he pants. “‘s okay, I got you.” he leans down and presses his lips to yours. 

You melt into his mouth as he presses himself against you surrounding you with him. Each thrust is now a demand followed by a roll of his hips that leaves you whimpering beneath him. He leans back and holds the sides of your face as he pumps into you. You try to hold your eyes open but your lids feel so heavy. 

“Open your eyes.” he coaxes. “C’mon,” he brushes his thumbs on your cheeks and your eyes flutter open. “There you are.” his voice so smooth you have to remind yourself to keep your eyes open again. 

He watches you fight with yourself to keep your eyes on his and he wonders if you can even tell how close you are. You lean into the hand on your cheek and wonder if he ever had both hands- Your orgasm slams through you when he brushes his fingers against your slick bud. Every swirl of his fingers takes your breath and his composure with them. 

“Doin okay?” he tries to taunt but he feels himself slipping. You mumble incoherently as your pleasure feels never ending. “Yeah? Me..” he groans, snapping his hips into yours. “Me too.” he nods his head.

You’re so wet and warm and hugging him just right that he spills his pleasure into you. Continuing to pump it inside you while pressing his lips to yours. Your legs stay wrapped around him keeping him buried inside you, wanting to stay as close to him as possible. When he softly jerks his hips sparks of pleasure shoot through your body making you gasp into his mouth. 

“Can we just.. Mmm Jinwoo,” you whimper as he rolls his hips again. “Wanna sleep just like this.” your arms wrap around his back and try to pull him down against you. 

“I’m gonna suffocate you if I do that.” he chuckles watching you squirm beneath him as he continues to rock into you. 

“That’s what I want.” you nod your head still trying to pull him down. “Please?” your hands tangle in his hair. 

“Why can’t you just lay on my chest like normal?” he presses himself down against you and hears your heavy exhale. “No you-

“You’re just so warm.” you wrap yourself around him tighter and bury your head into his neck. “Like a weighted blanket.” you press your lips to his skin. 

“If we stay like this I’m just gonna end up fucking you again.” you squeeze around his cock in response. 

“That’s gonna happen regardless of the position.” you mumble, relishing in his warmth. 

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                                      masterlist

[crow-caller]

Learning about POTS, especially @mamoru's blogging about it and the dysautonomia health conference, has made me suspect... it's the sneaky bastard behind my chronic illness. Or, the start point!

POTS can just kinda happen to you. It did to me, though it was diagnosed a while after more notable things happened to my body. But. Around when my chronic illness kicked off, early 2020, a few other things happened which seemed unrelated:

-a random full body allergic rash, which turned into just a dry rash on my right hand and now reoccurs each spring — a sudden new hay fever allergy (I'd never had any allergies before)

-dizziness and blacking out when standing too quick or moving (classic POTS symptom)

-pins and needles when my feet fell asleep went from numb & annoying to Absolute AGONY, the worst pain, prone to happening extremely quickly amd kicking in after I take a few steps

-Lactose intolerance after being a lifelong dairyhead

-my horrible horrible chronic health issues began

....knowing POTS is linked to immune system things makes me consider: i might have developed it, and it may have caused these new allergies and even my chronic illness. I thought of it as just a weird other thing i noticed i might have a year or two post my other health changes.

[yvesssssssss]

Heyyy! How are you?

I have a request for Hoshina and I'm ready to get on my knees bc I def need to read more of this idea, the thing is:

Reader (a platoon leader) went on a mission and Hoshina, her boyfriend, stayed in the control room to check on the mission, before the operators found an extra heartbeat in her suit, confused, Okonogi would check on her and there they'd find out (including Hoshina) that reader was pregnant. And Hoshina would confront her why hadn't she told him before.

You can decide if reader already knew she was pregnant or not ^^ (pd: take your time and ignore my english, it's not my native language)

Heartbeat

Hello!! I hope you like it!! (Good morning˙ᵕ˙)

The mission had gone as expected—almost. The kaiju threat in District 8 had been neutralized swiftly under your command. You moved like a ghost through the wreckage, katana sheathed, uniform slick with grime and sweat. Your subordinates reported back with minimal injuries. Clean, efficient.

Textbook work.

Except for one thing.

Back in the control room, Hoshina stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the screen, following your vitals in real-time. His posture was relaxed to the untrained eye, but Okonogi knew better. Hoshina hadn’t taken his eyes off your line for even a second. Not since you left the gate.

“Platoon Leader's suit readings are normal,” an operator muttered. “Slight elevation in heart rate, but that’s expected…”

Then, a beep. Followed by confusion.

“Wait—there’s… another heartbeat?”

The room paused. Even Hoshina tilted forward slightly.

“Another signature in the suit?” Okonogi asked, already tapping away at the data. “Could be an error. Glitch in the sensors maybe.”

“No,” Hoshina said, voice suddenly sharper. “Run it again. Full analysis. Pull the internal suit diagnostics.”

The monitor adjusted. The second heartbeat was faint but steady. Smaller. Softer. Not a kaiju. Not anything artificial.

“...It’s coming from inside her,” Okonogi said slowly. Then he blinked. “It’s… it’s a fetal heartbeat.”

Everything froze.

Hoshina stared at the monitor. At the data. At your name. Then, for the first time that day, he moved—fast.

“Keep her on the line. I’m heading to the bay."

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You were peeling off your suit when the door opened—and there he was.

Hoshina.

Your heart jumped. Despite everything—despite the nerves in your stomach and the quiet conversation with the medic—you couldn’t help the way your feet moved toward him, your lips tugging into a relieved, affectionate smile.

“You’re here,” you said softly, crossing the room to him.

But he didn’t smile.

He didn’t reach for you.

He stood still, his jaw tight, shoulders tense as he looked at you—not with relief, but with something sharper. Quieter. Controlled.

“So…” he said, voice low, unreadable, “I’m guessing you found out I know.”

You blinked, the joy in your chest faltering. “Hoshina—”

“Through suit diagnostics,” he cut in. “Through Okonogi.”

You flinched at that.

“That wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” you murmured.

“Wasn’t how I wanted to find out either.”

The room hung heavy with the silence between you. The medic, eyes wide, silently excused herself, leaving you both alone.

Hoshina took a step forward now. Controlled. Careful. Still holding something back.

“You knew?” he asked. “How long?”

You swallowed. “About two weeks.”

His eyes searched yours. Hurt—hidden under the surface—started to show.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You looked down.

“I didn’t want to distract you. We’re in the middle of a war. I didn’t want to be… a burden.”

That word hit like a knife. You felt it the moment it landed.

He didn’t lash out. Hoshina never did. But his breath left him like he’d been punched.

“You think… that’s what this is? A burden?”

“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you whispered. “Between me and the field. Or between command and—this.”

“Damn it, (Y/N),” he said, and this time, it cracked—the worry, the anger, the rawness. “You’re not a distraction. You’re not a burden. And that’s my kid too.”

You kept your eyes down, voice barely audible. “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of this. Of you looking at me like I’m something fragile. Something broken.”

He stepped in, slowly now, as if letting himself soften again. His hand came up, gently cupping your cheek.

“I don’t see you as fragile,” he said. “I see you as the woman I love. Who walked into a battlefield with my child inside her and still came out leading her team.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. Your throat felt tight.

“So you’re not mad?”

“I’m mad you didn’t trust me with this,” he admitted. “But I’m more scared. Scared of what could’ve happened out there without me knowing.”

“I didn’t want to slow anyone down.”

“Next time,” he said firmly, “you tell me. We carry this together. You don’t have to do it alone.”

You finally looked into his eyes—and you saw the flicker of something softer now. Hope. Fear. Love.

“I never planned for this,” you whispered.

“Neither did I,” he said, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “But I want it. I want you. Both of you.”

You fell into him, arms around his waist as he held you close, grounding you.

His hand rested lightly over your stomach.

“I’m staying in the control room from now on,” he muttered into your hair. “You don’t get to go off doing solo runs without telling me you’re carrying our future.”

You laughed, half-choked, half-teary. “Deal.”

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

Soooo this little break is turning into a much longer break than I was expecting 😞

Long story... less long?

I got sick of sleeping 15+ hours a day and came off the nerve pain meds, had to deal with the withdrawal for a bit, and now my doctor wants me to try another nerve pain medication, so it's highly likely the process will repeat itself all over again.

On top of that, I finally went to the dentist after... well let's just say a very long time, I'm too ashamed to tell ya'll exactly how long. I was prepared to be on the 2-3 year waiting list to see a free dentist but, knowing all the extremely traumatic experiences I've had with dentists in the past (especially the free ones), my mother kindly offered to help me pay to go see a private dentist who specialises in helping neurodivergent people. Had my initial consult with her last week and she was wonderful (and so so accommodating with all my boundaries that other dentists used to tell me I was "just being difficult" about) and I have my very first appointment with her in a few days which will be the start of a long and painful (mostly for my wallet) few months as I go through the treatment plan she's made for me... which includes full-on dental surgery once all the smaller stuff is taken care of 😩

And that brings us to this week.

Yesterday was Mother's Day... it was also the day my grandmother passed away. She wasn't sick at all and was going strong for her age (she would have been 95 next week), still pottering about the family farm, doing all the things she loved to do... so to say it was a shock to get that call yesterday morning is a massive understatement; I don't think it's fully sunk in yet and probably won't until the funeral.

Yeh so, basically, if I'm gone for a few more weeks (or months), please just bare with me; I promise I haven't forgotten about the messages in my inbox and all my broken CC that needs fixing 🩵

[bartxnhood]

40s! bucky barnes headcanons

synopsis: a collection of 40s!bucky barnes bc he is very dear to me.

warnings: none really, mainly fluff, just a tad of angst at the end.

a/n: hiiii all!! this is the first installment of my headcanon series. i’ve never really done headcanons like this before but i thought it would help me find my groove of writing again. i do have another bucky fic in the works along with a bob one!!

not proofread

requests open

Copyright © 2025 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧

40s!bucky who first met you in a medical clinic when he was getting medicine for whatever sickness he had conjured up this time. but, it was really an excuse to see you again.

40s!bucky who never believed in love at first sight, it was a lame fairy tale for kids to believe in. but on that fateful day and his eyes landed on you..oh he was absolutely smitten.

“i’m gon be marryin’ her, steve!” his dopey smile is something steve has never seen before, his eyes glittered with something steve wasn’t familiar with. only seeing that gleam in his eyes whenever your name came up in conversation. “does she know this, buck?”

“she’s about to!”

40s!bucky who showers you with anything your pretty little heart desires. new diamond earrings? done. flowers? done. that dress you’ve been eyeing in the boutique down the street across from your work? it’s lying in the break room for you at work.

“bucky, this all too much” you’d finally confront him as you stand in the living room of your apartment as he’s handing you a new gift.

“what do you mean, doll?” bucky hesitates, afraid he’s crossed over a line. his step towards you is light and gentle, he drops the box to the table. “did i overstep or cross a line?” he asks softly. “never” you say, smiling softly. “i just..i don’t feel like i deserve this”

40s!bucky who doesn’t understand why you think like that. to him you were the brightest star in the night sky, the light of his day, you were every good thing that bucky didn’t deserve.

40s!bucky who calls you a plethora of different nick names, ‘doll’ and ‘baby doll’ were his two favorite. you would always blush, the nicknames stirring up butterflies in your stomach.

40sbucky who is pretty affectionate, even in public. considering his past, he’s so proud to show you off. bucky feels like the luckiest man in the world knowing you’re with him.

40s!bucky who tells you he loves you multiple times a day. there’s not really a reason behind why he does it, he just feels the need to make sure you’re aware that you’re the only one for him.

40s!bucky who found out he was a jealous man because of you. not anything you’d do, of course. but when he took you out dancing one night he couldn’t help that burning sensation he felt in his chest as he saw a man across the room eying you.

40s!bucky who keeps a collection of records tucked away in his apartment just for you, knowing how much you love music.

40s!bucky who dances with you in the living room with nothing but a small lamp lighting up the room. the two of you swaying to the soft jazz that bucky picked.

40s!bucky who picked out the perfect ring only a year of dating. keeping his promise that he’d marry you, even when everyone around him told him he was insane.

40s!bucky who asked your family’s permission for your hand in marriage promising to give you the best life you deserve.

“this is awfully soon, james.” your father would say, sitting across from bucky. “understandable, sir. but i do not wish to be away from her. i will give her the best life possible.”

40s!bucky who told you to wear your best. there were over two dozen roses in his kitchen, all prepared for you.

40s!bucky who is surprisingly a wonderful cook and prepared a huge candlelit dinner to show how much he loves you.

40s!bucky who finally popped the question after dinner, standing on the fire escape of his apartment while drinking wine.

“i have never met anyone quite like you. from the moment i met you, i knew you were the one for me. you make my heart skip a beat and fill me with more joy than i ever thought possible. will you do me the honor of becoming mrs.barnes?"

you’d say yes of course.

40s!bucky who holds you close when he finally confessed that he was drafted. gushing your cries as you grip onto him for dear life. feeling your world crumble beneath you. terrified.

“don’t cry, doll..” he says into your hair. “i’ll be home. i’ll come back to you”

“you better, james. god dammit you better come home to me.” you sobbed.

40s!bucky barnes who writes you letters every day after he was drafted. long letters, you can feel the anguish and pain from the way he scribbles his words on the stained paper.

40s!bucky who always professes his love at the end of the letters. “my heart aches for you. my soul yearns for your touch. i love you baby doll. i’ll be home soon.”

40s!bucky who sent back his dog tags so you’d have a piece of him while he’s away.

40s!bucky who wears his wedding band around his neck every day. often finding himself fiddling with it absentmindedly. missing you more than anything else in the world.

40s!bucky who gives steve the rest of his letters and wedding ring and tells him to look after you. he didn’t know why he didn’t, maybe a hunch.

40s!bucky who never returned home. but steve made sure everything was sent to you.

40s!bucky who pledged his undying love for you in each word on the paper. thoughtful words you never expected him to conjure.

40s!bucky who now only lived in your heart with every beat.

[murdocksapostasy]

bob reynolds x therapist!reader

tags: use of pharmaceutical drugs, mentions of mental health struggles, slight fluff, mentions of depression, involuntary taking of medication kinda.?

warning: i’m not a mental health professional do not take anything written here as professional advice or truth. (i also know bob definitely has bipolar but im not writing about bipolar sry)

after the events of new york with bobs whole void situation, everyone thought it would be best if bob got some support for his mental health struggles, yelena especially. she really cares about bob and didn’t want him to fall deeper into his personal void.

so here’s where you come into play, a licensed psychiatrist who specialises in powered-people, and just so happens to be an old friend of yelena’s, by that we mean..the red rooms

still the dynamic between you and bob was friendly if anything, you were simply there to keep an eye on him, make sure he takes his pills and be a shoulder to cry on that can give him professional advice. and weren’t exactly useless to the other thunderbolts either. again, experience withred rooms and a degree in psychology.

when you first met bob he was very timid but soon enough your calm and caring approach got him pretty comfortable around you.

now, it’s the afternoon at the watchtower and you knock on the door of bobs room for a check up.

“bob.? can i come in.?”

you hear a faint yeah come from inside before walking in, there you see bob sitting in the corner of the room looking out the window. he looks at you with that wide eyed expression he always has,

“hey..”

“hi bob, how are you feeling today?”

you could already tell by his body language it was definitely gonna be a low day.

“uh, i don’t know i think i’m okay..”

“could you put that on a scale from one to ten for me?”

„like a four maybe.?”

your face doesn’t show it but you’re a little disappointed, not in bob. you’re very proud of the progress he’s making, you just don’t like when he’s upset.

“that’s alright. can i give you your pills bob?”

you say taking out a little plastic cup with a little white pill inside, you extend your hand towards bob kindly offering him the pill. (even though he has to take them)

bob hesitates, before nervously brushing off his resistance.

“i don’t know..i just”

“is everything okay?” you ask a little surprised

“yeah it’s just… is it normal to feel weak? for taking anti depressants i feel like i should be able to handle myself. i can’t help like feel im doing something wrong?”

your gaze softens, and silence fills the air only for a few seconds while you think of an good way to phrase your response.

“you’re not weak, whatsoever and this won’t last forever, we all need some extra support sometimes, i used to take tablets too.”

“really?” bob tilts his head in curiosity.

“mhm”

silence fills the room again only for a brief moment before an idea pops into your head.

“come here.”

bob is a little caught off guard by the request but complies anyways walking over to you.

you turn over the small plastic cup letting the singular table fall into the palm of your hand, you put your free hand on bobs chin opening his mouth before placing the tablet on his tongue and watching him swallow.

your hand stays on his chin a bit too long before you finally take it away handing him a bottle of water.

bob looks at you a little confused taking in what just happened, you’re not sure either it just felt right.

“t-thank you”

he says giving you a small smile.

“i’m proud of you”

you say walking towards him before placing a little kiss on his forehead.

[katethetank]

Possession of the Heart - Chapter 8

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Steve finds his ticket to freedom and gets help from some good Samaritans CW: Mpreg, medical checkup, mention of Tommy's infertility and his plan for Steve being assaulted (again, Steve is ok! Nothing happens!) Pairing: Alpha!Tommy x Omega!Steve - Alpha!Eddie x Omega!Steve Word Count: 2.8k

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

Tommy comes home around lunch time and Steve’s plan is set into motion. He packed what he knows he’ll need into two suitcases, and tucked all of Eddie’s letters into his needlepoint bag underneath his supplies. He’s not exactly sure how he’ll be able to get out of the estate, but he needs to be ready at a moment’s notice.

The medical report and marriage contract are folded and held close in his pocket. When he hears Tommy come in, he puts on his best performance and staggers down the stairs holding his belly.

“Tommy?” His voice warbles and he pats himself on the back for sounding so genuinely distressed. “I think…I think something may be wrong.”

Tommy meets him at the bottom of the stairs with a look of concern. “Steve? Darling you look awful.”

He tries not to take offense. He knows his performance isn’t that good, but he’s also aware that he hasn’t been eating enough, and hasn’t left the estate for so much as a hair cut since fall. “I need…I need to see that doctor. The one who came here before. I don’t feel well and I’m worried about the pup.”

That’s all he needed to say. Tommy’s only real concerns are his investments, and the most important one he has is currently doing somersaults in Steve’s belly. Without any hesitation, Tommy calls back the driver and they make their way into town to see Dr. Owens. When they arrive at his office, Tommy tries to enter the exam room. Steve gives one look of warning to the doctor, and Tommy is being escorted to the waiting area.

The door closes and Dr. Owens is immediately at Steve’s side. “I wish you would have come sooner, Steve. You don’t look well.”

“That’s the least of my concern. Dr. Owens, please…I need your help and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

The doctor seats him at the exam table and pulls up a chair. “You’re safe here, Steve. Anything you tell me will remain confidential.”

“I’m actually hoping it won’t.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the papers. “Tommy has been lying to me. To everyone. Here, this is our marriage contract. It states right there that our marriage will be dissolved if there is any proof of adultery or if either of us are infertile. Sir, it’s not just Tommy’s legs that were affected by his wounds. He can’t father children. This signed medical report proves it. I didn’t know until today that this clause was in our contract. Since he returned from the war, he’s known that our marriage can be dissolved, and he hid it from me to keep his control over me.

“What’s worse is he ordered me to find another Alpha to pup me so he can claim it as his heir and bond me to him. I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. But then…then I met a man who showed me what actual kindness and love is. Tommy found out. He didn’t want me being happy. Didn’t want this man getting in his way. So he threatened him and forced him to leave. That’s when I found out I was pregnant. The day you came to the manor…he told me that once the pup is born, a man he hired to follow me, William Hargrove, would be rewarded for his efforts by…by having his rights to pup me against my will. It terrified me so much that I fainted.  

“Doctor, please. I need to get away from them. The proof of his infertility is right there, and the proof of my adultery is here.” Steve places a hand on his belly and wipes the tears from his face with the other. “Can you help me? Please? I know I made mistakes of my own, but I cannot allow him to claim this pup as his.”

Dr. Owens sits in stunned silence for a moment and his own eyes look misty. “I’m glad you came to me. Steve, this is the most abhorrent thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m so sorry you’ve been treated this way. After you leave here, I can take these papers to the courthouse. The judge, Bob Newby, is a good friend of mine and a good man. There’s no way he’ll let this stand.”

Judge Newby. Steve remembers him from one of the parties Tommy hosted. He was so kind and Steve was sad to see that he was one of the Alphas that Tommy refused to have back. All because he made Steve laugh and gave him a moment of joy. “I met him once. He was kind.”

The doctor nods in agreement and gives Steve a reassuring smile. “He is, I promise you that. I can get this to him immediately and once the papers are signed dissolving your marriage, your ties to Tommy are broken. Do you have a means to leave?”

Steve’s shoulders sag. “No. I don’t have a way to leave the estate and no money for travels. The only thing of value I have is my wedding band. I suppose I could sell that and get money for a train ticket.”

“Steve, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

Dr. Owens holds out his hand. “Then give me your ring. I’ll take it to the jeweler and get the best price I can. And as far as getting off the estate, leave that to me. I’ll get your funds for a ticket and the papers you need. Just pack what you can and be ready before dusk.”

Steve heaves a sigh of relief. “Oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” He slides off his ring and places it in the doctor’s hand. “You’re saving my life. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Owens pockets the ring and stands. “You can repay me by letting me examine you. I take it you haven’t been caring for yourself for quite some time.”

Steve readily accepts. He's dehydrated and underweight, but the baby seems to be growing just fine regardless. The doctor stresses that he needs to do his best to eat regular meals once he's off the estate and get as much rest as he can. Before he leaves, Dr. Owens gives him a wink and wishes him the best of luck. He walks Steve out the waiting room where Tommy is looking irritated. 

“Well? Is the pup ok?”

“Yes, Mr. Hagan. Steve is just a bit underweight, but that can be remedied easily. He’s experienced some fatigue, and will need plenty of bed rest. But otherwise the baby seems to be doing just fine.”

Tommy huffs, like this whole thing was a hardship for him. “Good then. We’ll be on our way. Steven, come along now.”

Tommy is furious on the drive back to the estate and tells Steve several times that this was all his own doing. That refusing to eat with Tommy led him here, and he only has himself to blame. His tone would normally make Steve prickle with irritation, but he lets it roll off his back knowing that this is likely the last time he’ll have to hear it. 

When they arrive back at the manor, Tommy retreats to the study and Steve goes up to his room to make sure he has everything he needs. He places his bags by the door…and waits.

The sun is just starting to set behind the trees when he hears a loud knock. His heart leaps in his chest and he springs to his feet. He slings his bag over his shoulder, opens his door, and picks up his suitcases. It’s a bit of a struggle getting them down the stairs, but he manages. He makes it to the foyer and Deputy Callahan is handing Tommy a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

“Mr. Hagan, this is your notice signed by Judge Newby that as of today your marriage to Steve Hagan is dissolved on grounds of adultery and infertility.”

Tommy’s glare is full of rage as he turns to look at Steve. His face is red and jaw clenched. “What have you done? You have no proof of this!”

“You had proof of it this whole time, Tommy. I found the papers. Your medical report, our marriage contract…you never told me about the clauses in there. You knew this whole time that you could have called this off and you didn’t. You made me a prisoner in our own home, and I refuse to let it happen any longer.”

His face has darkened even more with rage and Steve would be afraid if he didn’t know he would be leaving soon. “You had no right to go through my belongings.”

“And you had no right to keep me here! To bring me here in the first place! You don’t own me anymore, Tommy.” Steve picks up his suitcases and Deputy Callahan is quick to take them out of his hands. He makes his way out the door and Steve follows, stopping in the threshold and turning to look at Tommy one last time. “You only have yourself to blame.”

He closes the door behind him and holds his head high as he walks to the police car and the deputy helps him into the passenger seat. As they drive out of the estate and head towards town, Steve feels the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he’s free.

They’re just outside of town when Deputy Callahan reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. “The Doc and the Judge wanted to make sure I got this to you. It’s a copy of the papers they signed, and a little something to help get you where you need to go.”

Steve opens the envelope and is shocked at the amount of money he finds. It’s much more than what he expected to get for his ring. He sees a small notecard between the bills and pulls it out.

Steve,

I was able to get a good price for your ring, but it will only get you so far. Bob and I had a bit of money to spare and thought there would be no better use for it than to get you to your Alpha. Love is priceless, kid. Go find yours, grab it with both hands, and don’t let go.

We wish you the best of luck on your travels. Be safe, eat well, and enjoy your new life.

Warm regards,

Sam Owens

“So? Where am I taking you?” Deputy Callahan looks over at him with a knowing smile. 

Steve wipes a tear off his cheek and smiles back. “The train station would be lovely, thank you. I need to get to Indiana.”

He spends four days traveling by train across the country. 

When the conductor sees him coming, lugging two suitcases, alone, with a swollen belly, he runs to assist Steve and makes sure he has a compartment to himself so he can stretch out as much as he needs.

His appetite finally returns and he makes sure to eat every bite of the meals offered. Sleep comes more easily too, without the fear of Tommy and Billy hanging over him. The seats aren’t exactly ideal for a pregnant person to sleep on, but he makes do and is just grateful to not be at the manor.

Steve whiles away the hours reading and rereading every letter Eddie wrote him. He was adrift for a while after Billy escorted him off the estate at gunpoint. He finally tracked down his uncle and worked his way out to Indiana. His uncle owns a wheat farm in a small town with a large farmhouse. There’s a stream nearby, and following it south is a cabin Eddie has taken residence in. 

He’s been working for Uncle Wayne on the farm and has taken on the care of a whole flock of chickens. He insists Steve will love them even more than the pheasants. 

Most of his letters are about how much he loves Steve. How he misses him and wants more than anything to see him again. How he hopes Steve is safe. 

As the train pulls into the station in Indianapolis, his heart races at the thought of being so much closer to Eddie. Once he’s off the train and has his suitcases, he realizes he needs to find his way to the town Eddie lives in. He approaches the ticket booth and asks if they know the best way to get there.

There’s a tap on his shoulder and he turns to see a young man who must be around his age with a younger boy no older than fourteen. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but did you say you were looking for a way to Hawkins?”

“Yes, I did. Do you know the area?”

He gives Steve a small smile and looks to the boy. “That’s where we’re headed, actually. We’d be happy to take you.”

Steve is so grateful for small miracles. “That would be wonderful, thank you so much! I’m Steve.”

He holds out his hand and the young man shakes it. “I’m Jonathan. This is my brother, Will. May we take your bags?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I insist! Our mother is a midwife and she would have our heads if we let someone in your condition carry luggage.”

Steve laughs genuinely for the first time since he was with Eddie. “We can’t have that! Thank you Jonathan, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

Jonathan and Will help him into their car and load his luggage into the back. He learns that Jonathan is also an Omega, and he was at the station seeing his Alpha off for a semester of school in Chicago. Nancy is studying to be a journalist and Jonathan just beams talking about her. He works with his mother assisting in births, and does odd jobs around town, but is fascinated by photography and is learning about how it all works.

Steve himself is fascinated by this other male Omega who is living his life so...normally. It's such an unfamiliar concept for him, and his heart aches at the thought of the possibilities he could have had if he weren't born into such wealthy circles.

Will is a quiet and sweet boy. He loves drawing and spends a lot of his free time either working on sketches or causing mischief with his friends. There’s a whole gaggle of them from what Steve gathers.

He doesn’t want to tell the boys too much of the life he escaped, so he keeps his story vague. He tells them that he’s been separated from his Alpha due to circumstances out of his control, and is finally finding his way back to him. With Hawkins being a small town, it should be no surprise that Jonathan knows where the Munson farm is. He buys their eggs from Wayne weekly. 

When they eventually arrive at the farm, the boys carry Steve’s luggage to the front porch and wish him well. He’s sure he’ll be seeing them again soon enough. They drive off and Steve takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. His heart sinks when there’s no answer. He knocks again and waits. When no one comes to greet him, he thinks back to Eddie’s letters and the cabin he mentioned.

Steve picks up his suitcases and quickly finds the stream nearby. He follows it south, moving slowly with all the extra weight he’s carrying, until he happens upon a quaint log cabin that’s just as Eddie described. On the porch he sees pots of sprouts, and small wood signs with Eddie’s handwriting. Lavender. Rosemary. Sage. 

He sets down his bags and knocks. Again, there’s no answer. But when he tries to open the door, he finds it unlocked. As soon as it swings open, he’s hit with the fragrance of cedar and suede. His heart races and the pup begins to kick wildly. Steve looks down smiling and runs a hand over his belly. “That’s right, little one. That’s your father.”

Steve brings his bags inside and sets them down. The cabin is set up much like the cottage on the estate. There’s a small kitchen and dining area, a living space with a fireplace, and as he walks further through, he finds a washroom and bedroom. The scent of Eddie is stronger there and it draws Steve in like a moth to a flame. Above the bed, he sees his lilac embroidery.

Weary from days of travel and months of misery, Steve climbs into the bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. The cabin is chilly without the fireplace lit, but he quickly finds warmth under the blankets. Surrounded in the scent of his Alpha, and feeling more safe than he has in a long time, he drifts into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

*********************************************

Get your ass home, Eddie!

Psst...next chapter is gonna be an Eddie POV!

Taglist is open!

@mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @watermelonmite @hiscrimsonangel @micheledawn1975 @stedestielfrattficlover @disrespectedgoatman @orie-jai @themoonagainstmers @moltenchocolatelavacake

[primnroses]

One thing I find fascinating and hypocritical is that many people hate Sakura for loving and marrying sasuke but don't have that same reaction with karin. People go on and on how two characters that attempted murder on each other shouldn't be together, but at the SAME time, ship him with karin. By all accounts, they shouldn't be shipping them together. But for some reason, it make sense to them? And they mostly state that karin had a reason to like him? But he almost killed her. And was almost successful. Why is murder okay or even justified with sasukarin and not sasusaku?

Anything is okay for them because they hate Sakura, simple as that. A couple of years ago somebody tried to argue Sakura was a bad medic because what she did to Naruto in the war wasn't realistic by using real life CPR methods to justify it. Tells you a lot about how far people would go exposing their illiteracy to hate a fictional female character.

First of all, Sasuke is not a murderer by nature. Orochimaru and Suigetsu teased him a few times because he refused to kill innocents berating that "he's too soft" or that "he's indeed a Konoha ninja", so the fact that Team 7 met Sasuke after killed Danzo and commented on how corrupted he had become already indicated it wasn't him.

Sasuke tried to kill Sakura because she was his enemy in his quest to destroy Konoha while he was under the curse of hatred (that haters always deny exists), and Sakura agreed to kill Sasuke because he was a ticking time bomb ahead of a potential civil war. She pursued Sasuke out of her own volition and was ready to die trying because she loved him so much she couldn't stand watching Sasuke consume himself, and as a kunoichi she had a duty to protect her village and friends.

Sakura had a bond with Sasuke, wanted him to stay in the village and return to his old self and shared history together as members of Team 7.

Karin met Sasuke in a 20 second interaction during the Chūnin Exams where he saved her because he wanted her scroll but didn't attack her because she had the same scroll as Team 7, didn't meet him until after Team Hebi and constantly harassed Sasuke who needed to tell her to back off.

She stood by Sasuke's side, helped him get revenge and succumb into the curse of hatred that she could sense much better than anyone else; and he thought her life was so meaningless he didn't hesitate to pierce her heart just to get a clean shot on Danzo. How is that a better reason? Karin miraculously didn't die because she's an Uzumaki, but Sasuke did kill her and that's the lowest he had ever treated an ally.

Her feelings for Sasuke are constantly described as dangerous. Even though Sasuke did acknowledge his wrongdoings, he rewarded Karin with a dry apology. There was no way anything was possibly gonna come out of it.

Even if Sakura didn't exist, Sasuke's bond with Karin would remain the same. What Sasuke shared with Sakura was something he didn't have with any other of the few kunoichi he interacted with, which later transformed into something more.

I don't have anything against Karin and I think she was a great teammate from the shinobi pov, but some of these shipping discourses are simply ridiculous. It's one of the many reasons people just literally turn their brains off when talking about Sakura or sasusaku for the sake of hating.

[berracids]

How does Yandere Knockout turn female reader into hybrid of cybertronian in horror mad scientist style🔬.

A/N: OH MY GOD THIISSSSS, THIIIIISSSSSS IS WHAT IVE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO WRITE FOR SO LONG , I literally have a whole tf oc about that, but I will tweak it to fit with KO

Warnings: DEAD SWAN, gore, body horror, yandere!knockout, shockwave is here and that is a warning by itself, blood, violence, panic attack, vomiting, reader is an open book for KO literally and figuratively, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Symbiotic-alterations

Meeting knockout was probably the only thing that came first to street racing when it comes to burning some adrenaline off along with the rubber of your tires as you raced against him.

You thought that the sleek red car was just a normal driver, is in very fact, not. A normal driver, but a decepticon medic who apparently treats his main craft as a side job from how much he doesn’t take it seriously, unlike some certain medic on the opposite faction that knockout doesn’t see optic to optic with

What rendered knockout into helping you and revealing his bipedal form for to you is something he can’t quite place a servo on, “can’t have my favorite racer fall off on the rocks bellow” knockout snickered as he used all of his frame weight to pull your car as you were in that was about to fall off the edge of the road because of malfunction you’ve had in your transmission line system that could have cost you your life.

After that day knockout used that incident as an excuse to pop up whenever and wherever he likes, visiting a family member?, he’s parked right up the street, just finished your shift?, he’s parked in all of his red glory infront of your workplace. You’ve tried to tell him that you don’t need him to worry about you too much!.

But does knockout listens? He’s already turned off his audio receptors until he has to turn them on to defend himself, “but how can you blame me darling?, weren’t you the one who almost flew off with your car thinking it will transform into a fighter jet if it weren’t for me?” He would declaim as always and bringing up the faulty mistake in your car that almost took your life if it weren’t for him.

“Oh don’t be like that dear, you’re in good servos!, I am a doctor!” He would gloat placing his servo on the red finish of his chassis and assuring you of his medical expertise, so what if you are a fleshy organic and his medical license is meant for mechanic cybertronians?, he can always learn about your anatomy in case something does happen to you.

Can you blame the mech?, you give him the ideal challenge, the thrill of something that is different than that of dissecting open a bot’s neuro board array, its also not that his company is bad, you enjoy spending time with him, wether it be racing , going to a drive in theatre or him just complaining about his superiors, especially the rude second in command starscream.

You trusted the authenticity of the stories knockout recounts, to an extent at least, even if he tweaked some parts about how noble and righteous the autobot faction is, and painting an image of morally ambiguous mechs, he won’t just out right tell you that they are the bad guys!, even if they are technically the bad guys if you take account that the decepticons are the ones that started the whole war and cost them their whole planet, you don’t need to know all of that

All you need to do is to not start hating him for something that his faction did, even if he doesn’t take it seriously moreover have any loyalty for their cause or their warlord leader, that was all what knockout had on his processor as he somehow managed to wiggle his way and convince you to stay on the nemesis. “Only for a little while…”

You thought to yourself as knockout was chirping around the warship giddily on his way to Megatron’s throne room and lay his lie to him to get the approval of your stay on the ship by deeming you helpful in their leader’s red optics “do not worry!, I wouldn’t allow you to actually do any of the dirty work!, that’d be too much danger for your fleshy little human body” he would brush your worries off as he waves his taloned servos at you and placing you with delicate care on the table of his medbay.

Your days in the medbay with knockout were actually enjoyable until he had to do some field work cause “apparently I am the only reliable mech with actually common sense on this ship!”, he would yell something like that as he vents loudly and his engine roars angrily before slamming his aft down with scratches all over his beautiful red finish after the autobots “barbarically peeled off my paint!” As he would cuss and demonize them infront of you for ruining the thing he cares most,

“I am telling you!, those cursed autobots are as bad as starscream!, the only difference is that they try to mask it with their so called Nobel values!” He whines to you the time when starscream used one of his talons to scratch his chassis, with your tiny hands meticulously using the rotary buffer to try and fix his finish for him, and who is he to deny such a selfless act of care from you?, and he will drink all of that attention up, like a mech thirsty for energon

Around the time knockout brings shockwave back from cybertron in hopes of a fat raise from the leader of the decipticons, but nope, how naive was knockout to bring the logistics specialist and the mad scientist of the decepticons that only sees through equations and logic, and is now up his aft in the medbay and laboratory trying to bring back an ancient race of transformers!, knockout tries his best to hide you from shockwave’s line of sight

Ever since shockwave’s presence in the laboratory and the medbay a constant thing, it started to piss the medic off real bad this time, Oh how it does press on all of knockout’s wrong buttons, whenever he turns to look over his shoulder he has the see the hulking height of the decipticon’s mad scientist doing primus knows what creatures he tries to bring from the offlined, and invading your’s and knockout’s personal space like some t intimidating, awkward third wheel.

“I don’t even want to know what’s on that singular optical glitch’s processor, just make sure that you’re absolutely out of his way…and stay close to me at all times…” knockout would warn you firmly after picking you up off of the ship’s floor with delicate care in his taloned servos after shockwave was done looking you?, glaring?, analyzing? You down, you were never sure, with his lack of facial expressions it is always unnerving having to raise your head to meet up with his bright red optic studying you down like some specimen he may consider using and cutting open like some lab cattle.

Unicron can swallow what’s left of cybertron’s dead soil before knockout would let shockwave even try and attempt any of his experiments on you, the medic has gotten his fill of having people dear to him being cut open.

That is when knockout decides that leaving you on the nemesis was starting to get on his circuits since Megatron has ordered more on field work for knockout now that shockwave is here and he can take over the lab work that knockout would take on, and he will not leave you on that ship alone with that logic-manic freak, so he decides to take you on mission, as the human factor to blend in and not draw any suspicion, as knockout would glaze to have you with him at all times now,

Until the news of a human working with the decepticons reached the autobots when miko was complaining about how you managed to take her and jack down and tie them down, you were never above hitting teenagers; the autobots make note to sta cautious of you in case the decepticons have brainwashed you into working with them and risking your life for whatever doom plan they have for earth. As they used you like a pawn in their work. As they make a plan to get you from the opposing faction and save you from whatever hell you’re being walked off to.

And that is what they did when they have seen you jump off from knockout’s vehicle mode as he wasted no time getting into his bipedal form to try and steal the relic from the autobots before they could get their servos on it, you make your way to were the autobots had set up their camp to load the camp with explosives in amidst the active war field infront of you as the vehicons blast at the autobots as they try to fight despite being vastly outnumbered, after you had planted the bombs you were met with a very harsh shoulder shove that thrown you on the ground to find the loud girl in space buns trying to sabotage your plan,

“I don’t owe you an explanation kid, you better move away, now. I am not above beating a teenager, again….” You glare at her with animosity in your eyes in hopes of scaring her off away without having to unnecessarily engage in contact with her enemy, her eyes trail on the logo of the decepticons that was branded proudly on the left sleeve of your combat gear, that the decepticons were really having a human ally to help them,

Your legs wastes no time into sprinting out of the autobots camp after planting the bombs to at least waste some of their resources and weapons to hold them back, you run as fast as you can through the battle field of the huge robots blasting at each other as they tower over you and miko who was running after you to try and make you see reason not whatever what the decepticons made you believe.

The ground behind you shakes violently making you press to move on forward and to not look back and to try and find shelter until knockout arrives. As you were running to avoid getting caught into the cross fire; you find the time slows big time as you fall to the ground with that horrible ringing in your ear and the pain that alternates between ache and numbness too fast to realize which one you were feeling, you look behind you hesitantly and to your horror the one who was looming diabolically over you was none other than shockwave.

With his fusion servo cannon pointed at you as it powers down and smoke was going off through the holes on the side of his huge laser barrel, a sharp surge of pain that felt like a stab to your leg, makes you tilt your head down slowly. And up again to were the girl with space buns were as she was on the ground on her butt with a face of pure unsolicited horror before he hands wrapped around her abdomen and the muscles of his stomach spasmed violently at the sight of you in front of her before the contents of her stomach erupted like the sofas can she pranked Jack with earlier that day, the acidic smell and taste made her sick as she had to curl down on the ground fully to prevent looking at you-

It didn’t feel like fire. Not at first. It felt like weightlessness A brief second of surreal confusion before your body crumpled and your world tilted sideways. You hit the ground hard, with only your arm support your upper half, and feeling the air shoved from your lungs—

And then you really looked down. Your legs were gone. Gone. From just above the knees—nothing but cauterized, twitching ends of flesh Not just blown off. Atomized. Your thighs ended in gnarled, wet knots of flesh and shattered bone, jagged femurs sticking out like bloodied stakes. Arteries spasmed and gushed, pulsing out thick spurts of crimson that soaked your clothes and painted the asphalt beneath you.The smell—hot meat, burned hair, iron was what all you could sense around you, followed by the pain, white-hot nerve-shattering, vomit-churning pain

A blood curdling scream scratched its way from your insides upon the gory scene infront of you, were your lower half was supposed to be,where you were supposed to feel something there, a raw animalistic scream that tore through your throat like glass tearing through.

But he was still there. Still walking. Still calm. Still looming above you as if death was made out of metal and cold logic

His massive shadow loomed over you as he approached, cannon idling now—no need to waste another shot. Your mangled body twisted, eyes wide, mouth shaking from how you teeth clanked against one another with broken sobs. “P-please—I wasn’t—I didn’t—” you tried explaining but it was futile as shockwave walked slowly and leisurely towards you body that that you were trying to drag away with your arms across the gravel, sobbing, smearing blood behind you like a brushstroke of horror. You didn’t know what direction you were going—only away. From him

His red optic turned down to were you were laying on the ground seeing how you were trying to move away like some wounded animal that only had survival on their primitive mind, and that is how shockwave looked at you, the mech paid no mind to what you were saying or what excuses you were giving yourself or even the truth you were screaming with your whole body

“No—no—nononono—please—” You sobbed. You begged. Your guts churned, bile climbing your throat. One of your severed femurs twitched, and you nearly vomited at the sight. Behind you—those thunderous, deliberate footsteps. Still there. “SHOCKWAVE!” you screamed, voice shaking violently along with what’s left of your body, as you tried to kick away with legs you no longer had, “I’M LOYAL—I DIDN’T—I DIDN’T HELP THEM—”, but all that fell on offline audio receptors as He tilted his head slightly. Observing. Like a scientist watching a rat’s death throes. Cold. Detached. Analytical.

“Your presence at the enemy’s side during a classified mission rendered your allegiance statistically compromised. This conclusion is not personal. It is logical.” Then he kicked you. His pede collided with your ribs like a battering ram. You heard them break—wet cracks in your chest followed by daggers of white-hot pain. You flipped onto your side, gasping, wheezing, blood bubbling at your lips as your lungs struggled to stay inflated. You reached out. Maybe to crawl. Maybe to fight. Maybe just to beg. And then he stepped on your arm. No warning. No mercy. Just a shift in weight—and agony. You felt everything.

The way the ulna cracked first, like a glass rod, The snap of your radius splintering outward, punching through your skin with a spurt of arterial spray.

The CRUNCH of the elbow joint disintegrating, followed by the warm, pulpy squelch of your muscles turning to paste beneath several tons of Cybertronian weight. Your scream was not human. It was primal. You thrashed, body spasming, eyes wide and bloodshot. You could see your ruined limb—twisted, flayed open, your hand a mangled claw of shredded tendon and shattered bone, still twitching.

“You displayed cooperative behavior toward Autobot personnel. Statistical risk: unacceptable. Logical solution: elimination.” He clinically stated with the sterile tone of his, Shockwave didn’t move. He only pressed harder. You felt the flesh burst, your arm splitting open like overcooked meat, your nerves on fire. The pain wasn’t even pain anymore—it was existence itself. Like a parasite infesting your whole body and eating away at it as you could do nothing but watch as it unfold before your eyes.

You started seeing dark spots in your eyes like nebula as your heartbeat was still going haywire as your brain was feeling numb, as if it was on autopilot. But you were still awake.Still conscious. Still alive—just long enough for Shockwave to lean in close, his single eye glowing like a dying star, his servo went down to were you were laying on the ground and picked you up like some rag doll with the only limb you had left as he walked through the battlefield to were knockout was blasting off the two wheeler fem, shockwave finishes that off for him as he blasted arcee’s servo clean from her frame as she fell down.

“Your assistant was caught helping the autobot faction, I went on with the decepticon code of conduct punishment, the elimination of them is expected of you…” the scientist said coldly as he dumped your bleeding loving corpse into knockout’s servos as his optics widen with, shock, rage, confusion and repulsion, but not at you, oh he would never look at you with such optics, not when you’re in such a state,

His whole red frame shakes from anger and fear as he watched how your battered body was covering his silver servos in the same red of your body as his finish, even with the same glossy finish, knockout transforms into his vehicle form in less that a second as you were strapped down onto his driver seat and coating the fine leather of his with your fluids as he calls for a ground bridge into the medbay asap to save what he can save from what’s left of your body.

“I-…swear I never helped,…t-the autobots…” you weakly mumbled through bloodied lips as you coughed up more crimson goo that was with your spit that rolled down your chin, “I know my dear, you wouldn’t turn your back on me..” knockout comforted through a voice so melodic you would have never thought that the energon inside his body was simmering, both literally and figuratively.

Knockout spends days and weeks working on your body that was strapped to countless medical devices to keep you breathing until he can help you again, he had soundwave break into numerous hospitals to get those life devices cause knockout was not planning to let you go, at all not like this, he was a cybertronian doctor and now he is a human doctor to you now. He built numerous prosthetic limbs for you.

To replace what shockwave took away wrongfully, but never worry, he didn’t let that slide, oh that is not knockout. That day after hooking you up to the life support he rushed his way to the laboratory with the energon shock prod held tightly in his servos to the point it got dented from his talons, that day shockwave went into stasis from having his neuroboard and optic fried completely as the shock prod was left there for him to take out when he comes back online, that is when knockout limps back to you in the medbay with a blasted pede and a job well done, he will have Megatron do the rest to his logistics lieutenant as a compensation for your state.

Weeks of experiments and treatments pass slowly and tauntingly as if mocking knockout as he diligently worked on you to bring you back and give you a second chance again, if there is something he knows about holding people dear to him is that they will get mangled and dismantled no matter the species, let it be human or cybertronian, that is what he realized after he had tore open silas who used breakdown’s corpse as an armor, maybe that is the only thing he learned from him.

And that’s what knockout did, he spent countless nights without recharge as he worked on prosthetics for you limbs as he used cybertronian technology that is way too advanced to what the primitive versions that the humans use, knockout brings the T-cog of that belonged to breakdown as he broke it down to make tinier versions of it and install it to the prosthetics he made you, two legs and an arm,

Of only that was all what he had to work on, you had multiple broken spinal discs and a raptured eye ball that he had to replace with mechanical parts, all of that has almost fried off his circuits!, to the point that starscream himself even felt a little bad and he stayed out of the mad doctor’s way in case he tried to use his servo buzzsaw on his faceplate, or worse dismantle him screw by screw as he is still online and charging.

It has even been days that knockout didn’t bother to care for his finish!, as he was too busy tinkering with your insides to fix the fractured bones that you fragile human body has and to give it an internal metal cast to prevent any future fracturing. Like the ones that your sternum and ribs sustained after that cursed shockwave kicked you like some tin, he had to search for days to find a suitable heart pump since you heart has became too weak and could literally collapse, as knockout’s servos were holding your heart and the faint weak pulse of it against his talons that could easily impale it if it weren’t for his medical precision.

After all of the mods knockout added to your body, he started to wonder what is left of you that is still a human?, even silas had more organic body left when knockout dissected him. The only hope knockout had was the active brainwaves that were still going haywire as if adrenaline was still coursing through your body, but you were still, still like the dead, but knockout knew better, after all megatron himself was in a deep slumbered state with his brain activity still as sharp as his blade.

The medic exists the med bay after checking that you status were stable as he get on the top of the ship were Megatron orders the decepticons as he transforms into his vehicle form and starts speeding and drifting as his tires screech loudly with every sharp turn he takes. Which makes starscream fly to where he is with a deeper frown on his face upon the commotion thinking that it was some random vehicons causing trouble only to find the medic the doing donuts to help himself calm down

The second in command jumps to were knockout is while tapping his heeled pedes impatiently until the red vehicle stops and transforms with an angry and pissed off expression on his faceplate, “what are you doing here starscream?!, don’t you have any better plans?, I don’t know. Like maybe failing at overthrowing Megatron again?!” He snaps harshly at the seeker standing in front of him who was trying to hold onto whatever coolness he has left after the low blow knockout gave him

“We both are aware that is is better for you to continue working on your assistant, instead of drifting on the top of the ship and causing disturbance, you’re her only hope you automobile…” starscream sneers with with nice pettiness which surprised knockout and caused his optic ridges to raise, not expecting the praise, especially not from starscream himself, he contemplates the seeker’s words as he is the only one able to save your life.

Both of the mechs scoff loudly before leaving to each of their destined ways, with knockout going back to the medbay to where you are resting, your body wrapped tightly in sterile bandages to keep everything in, the doctor stood beside your berth as he stared at the slowly rising of your chest that your injured lungs were taking as you breathed, a tiny sliver of hoping that is keeping knockout sane, if it were any scenario with any other mech, knockout would have had them wish for unicron himself to smelt them, in hopes of escaping what’s he’s had planned in processor, yet he knew that Megatron would have had his helm crushed under his pede literally,

Just like how shockwave did to your arm, his sharp talons held your prosthetic hand that he attached to you, no longer being able to feel your soft flesh against his metal, knockout always thought what it would be like if you were a cybertronian like him, things would have been easier, you wouldn’t have been in the position you are right now, still awake and very much with him, knockout missed the shine you had in your eyes that was so much like his finish after a good polish. But now they lay shut until you come back to him. Where you should be.

More days pass and knockout took the bandages off of your body as your wounds have healed and all the internal mechanisms are intact inside of you, as you lay infront of him, bare and still very much warm in contrast to the pseudo-death state you are in and the coldness of his metal frame, with only the scars from the countless surgeries knockout preformed on you, covering your body like clothes, the medic carefully installs your prosthetics to where your missing limbs are. Or where they were supposed to be. Knockout missed how utterly full he used to feel with your presence, he tries his hardest to stay sane as you lay there like a puzzle with missing pieces.

His red optics turn to look down at his taloned servos as his processor recollects how shockwave just dumped your mutilated body on them as you body felt way too light than before, knockout shakes his helmet to get the imagery out of his helm, “don’t even think about it knockout!” He mumbled to himself as his pedes rush him out of the medbay. Having had his fill from unnecessary grotesque memories.

A few days later the door to the medbay slide open as the red mech walked in his place, “doctor in the house-….” His faceplate dropped upon finally seeing the slightest activity of your conscience coming back to you, he rushed to your side as he gripped the berth tightly that it dented a little from how ecstatic he felt as he saw your organic eye flutter weakly, the muscle has gotten slightly lazy from not using it from a long time. minutes painfully pass slowly, The pain was… gone. Not because it had passed, but because something else had taken its place—something colder, alien, and terrifyingly smooth. You woke to the sterile gleam of the familiar Cybertronian medical light panels, the buzzing of high-voltage tools, and the faint chirrup of your new limbs adjusting to motion diagnostics.

Knock Out loomed overhead, optics bright, grin wider than comfort allowed. “Oh good,” he purred, barely keeping the ecstasy in his voice modulator, his voice was as smooth as polished chrome. “You’re awake. I was beginning to worry you’d sleep through your own resurrection.” You blinked up at him. His face was close. Too close. But… familiar. Familiar meant safety. Familiar meant not alone. You reached toward him—then froze. Your arm… moved wrong. Your arm… moved wrong. It moved way too smoothly and way to calculated for someone who just lost it

It didn’t hurt. But it whirred. Clicked. Glowed faintly at the seams. You looked down—and gagged. Your left arm, once soft and flesh and yours, was now a hybridized metal limb, wires where veins once ran, plates fusing seamlessly into scarred, discolored skin. Your legs—oh God, your legs—were gone entirely. In their place were prosthetics crafted with brutal efficiency. Graceful, sleek, deadly… but foreign. Wrong. You thought to yourself as panic started to settle in you like water under oil.

You scrambled, trembling, trying to sit up—your new limbs jerking unnaturally, like they were dragging you rather than obeying you. Panic crushed your ribs like a vise. “W-What the hell did you do to me?!” Knock Out’s expression flickered—hurt? Annoyed? No, worse. Excited. “You died, darling,” he said smoothly, brushing your hair back. Your stomach turned. “What… what did you do to me…?”

Knock Out placed a hand over your chest, right above your fluttering heart. “I saved you, darling. You were bleeding out, screaming, dragging yourself through ash and shrapnel. I couldn’t let you go out like that. Not when I could make you whole again.” You shivered beneath his touch.You should’ve been angry. You should’ve screamed. But your voice cracked when you asked, “Am I… still me?” Knock Out’s faceplate softened—disturbingly tender as he got closer to you as if it had been megacycles the last he has seen you. “You’re better than you were. Stronger. Faster. Alive, and beautiful. You were mine before, but now?” He let out a dreamy sigh. “Now you’re perfect.”

Ugly tears welled in your eyes as your lungs hurt you even more with every ragged breath you took as you cried. You didn’t want to cry—not in front of him, not like this—but the emotions were impossible to name. Fear. Relief. Loss. A strange kind of awe. The horror of seeing your reflection in the mirrored wall—your face the same, but framed by alien angles, glowing seams, and unfamiliar limbs that you are still not used to their sight on your body, You reached for his hand as if out of instinct, as if it was a second nature to you, just like the air you are struggling to take in right now, He gave it to you instantly not allowing you to wait for him, It felt warm, for a machine, but weren’t you half one right now?

Knockout didn’t need to hear any words of gratitude from you, he can feel it as he can feel it through the trembling of your new mechanism hand as he holds it ever so gently. “Knockout, I’m scared.” He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “You should be. Your body’s different. The world will see you as something else now. But not me. I see you. I chose you. And now, no one can take you from me. Not even Shockwave.” His tone darkened at the name. You flinched. Your heart twisted. “I want to kill him,” you muttered, half to yourself. As you can feel the searing rage and malice start to simmer in you, as the images of a dismantled shockwave to the last screw fills your mind with minuscule relief, “and you will, one day surely, it’s only a matter of time darling, I know that very well, I know you, very well” he quipped contently still pressing your knuckles to his lips as he basks in your presence for now after being denied it for so long.

⌗𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 @berracids