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scarletriddles · 5 months ago

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Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them “…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl’s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

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zaineviu · 4 months ago

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❛𝘚𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵❜ - L.F (SKZ)

synopsis. Felix feels soft at the sight of his pregnant wife.

pairings. felix x reader!

content. sfw, husband!felix, pregnant!reader.

wc. 620

a/n. A very smooth continuation of ‘A little dramatic�� as I saw that many people liked that one.

part 1: ‘A little dramatic’

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

"You shouldn't be drinking this."

"Felix, I have no problem with drinking this."

"But the baby..."

"The baby enjoys it, our little bean like it." Y/N took her husband's hand to let it rest on her belly.

How round and soft it was the poor man couldn't help but not smile.

"Y/N..."

"Come and hold me, drinking coke won't hurt me, it was just a little sip." Felix shook his head.

"Don't be stubborn and give me that." He snatched the empty bottle from her hands, making a mental note with throwing away all the cans that were in the fridge. "My love, the doctor said you couldn't drink these kinds of beverages, I'll make you a natural flavoured juice, okay? Healthier, healthier, and our baby will enjoy it."

Y/N groaned nodding, ignoring the sympathetic look on her husband's face.

She knew she had a commitment to eating and drinking healthy things, however; Jisung had brought a box with cans of soda that ended up forgotten in her fridge in the end, she couldn't help but grab just one can to take a mini sip of that cold Coke.

"You're so obnoxious. Baby, I hope and you don't go out like your dad, or I'll be very upset." She muttered. Her hands slid down her swollen seven month belly, in two more weeks she would be eight and you couldn't be anything but excited about it.

"I heard you, but I know our precious baby will look like you, I hope he does," the blond man confessed genuinely, sitting down next to you after leaving the full can of soda on the bedside table next to his bed. His hand never leaving your belly.

"Seven months in my belly, of course he have to." Y/N groaned, glad to feel Felix move closer and wrap his arms around you to lift your belly a little, letting you breathe.

"Do you want anything special, are you hungry, honey?"

"I don't think so, just you please... or well yeah, can you make me eat those cheddar cinnamon rolls you made the other night?"

"It tasted gross, are you sure you want that?"

"You're talking to someone pregnant, dumb. Of course I want to eat that." She groaned again after the sense of relief she felt at being in her cloying husband's arms.

"Stop doing that..." Felix pressed his lips to her neck, hiding his face in the crook of his beloved's neck. "I love you both so much...you make me so happy Y/N, I thank God for giving me the chance to be able to be with you and to have the chance to have a baby, our sweet love...I love you so much, love of my life..."

Felix's eyes glazed over, breaking his voice at the end of his little speech, "you don't know how much I love you."

Felix began to cry, clinging to Y/N's body who smoothly turned around so she could hug him.

"I'm not leaving, Lixie, why are you crying, my sweet heart?"

"I don't know..."

"I'm the one who should be crying not you, stop crying, my love."

"It’s just that you make me so happy, so happy that I don't know how to express it."

"Everything you do for me is your way of expressing it, look, you even got me pregnant, what other proof of love do you need to get rid of that insecurity? I love you, with all my soul... and body."

Felix sobbed once more, clinging to his wife's body again. Inhaling your lavender scent, caressing your hair and letting his heart go out to her.

He felt at home.

And you felt loved.

#felix x reader #skz felix #skz stay #skz imagine #skz x reader #stray kids #drabble #one shot #skz #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids x you #felix

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3

im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭

ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k

cw for sexual harassment

"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over.

"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?"

"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh.

"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?"

"Top of your thigh."

"Shit, really? Can you see my–"

"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs.

"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently.

"Do you want my jacket?"

"Don't cover it up, toots."

You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks.

"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction.

"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one.

Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse."

"We were just messing around," one says.

"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy."

"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."

His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down.

"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine."

Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" His voice fries.

"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants."

Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–"

"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad."

"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you."

"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk.

"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here."

"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures."

"You shouldn't have to."

"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome."

"Right now?" he asks dryly.

"Are you handsome right now?"

"Are you really flirting with me right now?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning."

"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know.

You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?"

He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you."

"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?"

His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup."

"Just a small token," you say.

He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want."

"You sure?"

He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper.

He pulls you closer.

You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone.

"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today."

He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it."

"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so."

"Hotch is pretty pissed at us."

"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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bloomzone · 3 months ago

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2025: #13 The Wake-Up Call: stop wasting time and own ur education

⚠️ : harsh motivation

『Let me cut the bullshit and get straight to the point: you’re wasting your life. I said it. u sit there, complaining about school, whining about how “hard” it is, scrolling through your phone like the world owes u something Cuz it doesn’t. No one is coming to save your lazy ass.』

✒️..Cuz a big number of ppl think education is a joke !? You think skipping class, half-assing assignments, and coasting through life on autopilot is cute? Hell nah pookie. It’s fucking pathetic. While you’re sitting there making excuses—“I’m too tired,” “This subject is boring,” “I don’t see the point”—there’s someone out there grinding, pushing, sacrificing everything for the life you’re too scared to fight for.Do you know what it feels like to be stuck? To have doors slammed in your face because you didn’t put in the work? That’s the life you’re signing up for every time u choose to be lazy. Every time you say, “Fuck it, I’ll do it tomorrow,” you’re digging your own grave. You’re giving up on the one shot you have to make something of yourself.

But you’re not completely fucked yet.

Yeah, school sucks sometimes. I get it. Waking up early, dealing with uninspiring teachers, and subjects that feel pointless—it can feel like a waste. But here’s the truth: life doesn’t care. The world is cutthroat, and if you don’t show up, it’ll eat you alive. You either hustle, or you get crushed. That’s it.

So, what do you do? You fucking start. No more excuses, no more procrastinating. Here’s how to get your shit together:

1. Set a Fucking Goal

Stop floating around like a goddamn leaf in the wind. What do you want? What’s the dream? You can’t hit a target you don’t aim for. Write it down. Visualize it. Make it so real in your mind that you can taste it. Whether it’s becoming a doctor, starting a business, or simply getting out of your current situation—know your “why.”

2. Get Ruthless About Your Time

Stop wasting hours scrolling through TikTok, bingeing Netflix, or playing dumbass mobile games. Track your time. Every second you waste is a second you’re giving to someone who’s working harder than you. Use a planner, set alarms, make a schedule—whatever it takes to get shit done.

3. Start Small, Stay Consistent

You don’t have to study for eight hours on day one. Start with 30 minutes of focused work. Use the Pomodoro method: 25 minutes of pure focus, 5-minute break. Do that four times, and you’ve already put in two solid hours. Consistency beats motivation every damn time.

4. Stop Waiting for Motivation

Motivation is bullshit. It’s flaky, unreliable, and temporary. What you need is discipline. Discipline is doing what needs to be done, even when you don’t feel like it. Hate studying? Too bad. Set a timer and do it anyway. No one said this would be fun .l talked abt this click here !

5. Surround Yourself with Hungry People

If your friends are lazy, you’ll be lazy too. Cut out anyone who’s dragging you down. Find people who are grinding, who push you to be better, who make you uncomfortable in your mediocrity. If you can’t find those people, be that person. Lead the fucking way.

6. Own Your Failures

Stop blaming teachers, parents, or the system. If you failed, it’s on you. Take responsibility and learn from it. Failure isn’t the end—it’s feedback. It’s the world telling you where you need to improve. Use it.

7. Reward Yourself, But Only After You Earn It

Studied for two hours? Cool. Take a 15-minute break. Finished your assignment? Great. Watch an episode of your favorite show. But don’t let rewards come before the work. Earn your dopamine hits—they’ll feel a hell of a lot better.

8. Stop Romanticizing “Easy”

Nothing worth having comes easy. You’re not entitled to success; you have to fight for it. The grind is what separates the winners from the losers. Fall in love with the process, even when it sucks. Because that’s where growth happens.

9. Remember Who the Fuck You Are

You’re not some weak, helpless victim. You have the power to change ur life, but only if you stop feeling sorry for yourself. The world doesn’t owe you shit. You owe it to yourself to rise up, to push harder, to become the person you know you can be.

10. Think Long-Term

When you’re tempted to slack off, think about your future self. Five years from now, do you want to look back and say, “I gave it my all,” or do you want to drown in regret, wishing you could go back and do things differently? The choice is yours—every single day.

Stop Fucking Around

You’re not a kid anymore. This is your life. Every decision you make is shaping your future, whether you like it or not. You have one shot at this. Stop wasting it. Get off your ass, open your books, and start fighting for the life you want.

the pain of hard work is temporary, but the pain of regret lasts forever. So choose wisely. Do the work. Stay hungry. And when you’ve finally made it—when you’re living the life you once dreamed of—you’ll look back and thank yourself for not giving up.

@bloomzone 📇

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mortallyfuturistictragedy · 8 days ago

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My name is Aisha, and I’m a mother of eight children living in Gaza.

Before the war, we lived a simple life. We had a small home full of love and a butcher shop selling fresh and frozen meat. It wasn’t much, but it helped us survive.

Then, everything changed.

An airstrike destroyed our home. Our shop was reduced to rubble. In one moment, we lost everything—our shelter, our source of income, and our sense of safety.

Now, we live with no home, no food, and no income. Each day is a painful struggle.

My daughter is a widow—her husband was killed by Israeli forces, leaving behind a little boy who never got to meet his father.

I also have a baby, just seven months old, who is suffering from a sebaceous cyst near his ear. Doctors say he needs urgent surgery, but I have no way to pay for it.

There are days when my children go to bed hungry. Today, I managed to buy a little flour to feed them, only thanks to the kindness of strangers.

But tomorrow? I don’t know what we’ll eat. I don’t know how to save my baby or care for my orphaned grandchild.

I’m writing this from a place of deep pain—not weakness, but desperation. I am a mother doing everything I can to protect her children.

Your donation can save lives.

You can help me buy food, medicine, and get my baby the surgery he needs.

You can help a family that has lost everything stand up again.

Please, from one human to another—help us survive.

May your kindness be returned to you a thousand times.

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madamechrissy · 5 months ago

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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Descriptive edical procedures, reader has a medical issue, crazy sexual tension, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, kissing and teasing, the hospital is lowkey slutty. Reader like 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8.7k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Two =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Three ♡

One Week Later- the OR

“Intern, those fingers ready?” Dr. Gojo says to you, as you hold the severed finger of the patient in front of you, you’ve already cleaned them out, removing the damaged tissue. Maki is watching you eagerly from the window above, as if she’s dying to get her hand on the fingers, nibbling on a snack with Yuta as they watch. You look at Gojo, nodding now. “Perfect, now come over here.”

You stand next to Dr. Gojo in the OR now, a little overheated in your face mask, holding the finger steady as he begins to work on restoring the ligaments. You watch him avidly, his expert fingers under those latex purple gloves, precise to every millimeter, wiring the finger as you hold it. It’s quiet in the room, just the two of you and the sleeping patient, along with one of the nurses checking the vitals.

“What am I doing right now, Intern?” Satoru asks, peering up at you through his goggles, only serving to magnify the blue of his eyes.

“Wiring the tendons, Dr. Gojo.”

“Exactly, and how many hours do we typically have to do this successfully?” He asks softly.

“Twenty four hours, though everything after six hours poses a risk.”

“Perfect. How are you at sutures?”

“I’m the suture queen. I am in quilting classes, you know.” You tease, he chuckles a bit then, as the nurse hands you the needle and thread. You take it with steady hands, pouring antiseptic on the exposed finger, now put back together from Gojo. He’s right next to you, watching everything you do carefully.

“Nice, very nice. Almost as good as me, actually.” You smile under your mask at the praise, as he stands so very close you can smell his cologne even in the room that smells like pure rubbing alcohol and cleaner, you can feel the body heat of him, but you focus.

You slowly continue your sutures, making sure to be as even as possible, looping the skin together bit by bit as Dr. Gojo watches you. He does not instruct you, he merely holds it in place and allows you to finish, once you do he inspects it and hums to himself in satisfaction.

“Do you want to wire the tendons?”

“Fuck yes! Oh shit…” You blush now, thankful he can’t see, but you hear his soft laughter then. “Can I?”

“Only way to learn is to do it. I’ll be guiding you.” One hand presses against your back for just a moment as he switches your positions now, making you tremble, nerves going insane as you see Maki giving you a big thumbs up. Gojo laughs as he looks at her. “You have a fan club.”

“Not like yours Dr. Gojo.” You tease, now grabbing the wire.

“And what’s this technique called?”

“Tension band wiring.”

“You’re a little nerd.” You gasp, and the nurse laughs a bit. “It’s not a bad thing, you just are one.”

“Aren’t we all who go to med school?” You ask, carefully starting to gently wire the tendons together, Satoru is right against you now.

“Figure eight motions, there you go. Beautiful.” He murmurs again, and you’re eating up the praise, the nurse steps out for a moment since he is now stable, as you’re finishing up, when suddenly something is stabbing you in your temple. You cry out, gasping, and Satoru looks at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, leaning closer, and you shake your head, taking a breath as you continue to finish suturing his finger up.

“I’m so sorry.” You manage to say.

“Sorry? Your hands haven’t wavered, you’re okay. What’s going on?”

“Really bad stabbing ache. I’ve had them before but this was bad… shit… please don’t-”

“I won’t tell anyone.” He assures you quietly, and your eyes flutter shut for just a moment now that he’s taken over, arms wrapped around and working over you, for a moment you lean back against his chest, before panicking. “It’s fine, no one’s watching anymore, take a moment.”

“It’s not professional-”

“You did great. Why don’t we… talk about that headache later?” You sigh, leaning against him for just a moment, feeling his heart pounding against your back steadily, slowly, it feels far too good, to shut your tired eyes and breathe.

“You don’t have to worry about it. You have enough to do.” You say softly, straightening up now and starting to apply the antiseptic carefully. Satoru stands next to you again, and you already miss him behind you, complete insanity surely.

“Just come to my office after you clean up. Yeah?” He says, the nurses come in then, and you nod carefully.

“Do you think he’ll play piano again?” You ask, carefully inspecting both of your handiwork now, the fingers sutured beautifully, but still, you know he has quite a recovery ahead. “I found him on Youtube, he’s amazing.”

“You get so mushy and attached.” He teases, you just smile.

“I guess I do. It’s a bad habit.”

“Very bad. But… I do think he’ll play again, it may take some practice and time, but we did very well.” You exhale in relief, finishing up as Dr. Gojo walks out, the pain in your head starting to come back once more.

“Shit…” You whisper under your breath, anxiety making your heart race now, but you shove it down, focusing.

Later after cleaning up and heading to Satoru’s office, it’s cracked open and you peek in, earning his laugh when he sees you. “Hey it’s not a Scooby mystery, Daphne. Well… maybe Velma, you’re so nerdy.”

You glare now, making him grin with those glinting white teeth. “You’re a regular Scooby Doo, but for sweets and BJs.” You shut the door behind you, he holds a hand to his chest.

“Ouch! That one hurts, you’re saying blow jobs are my Scooby Snacks!?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just making sure I’m not stepping in on a… Hojo moment.”

Satoru’s lips curl up on one side, hands in the pockets of his slacks, lab coat behind his hips then, revealing his long, lithe legs. He is tilting his head, white hair falling just so. “A Hojo moment hmm? Like me and you at that party?”

“Shh!” You’re leaned up, hand on his mouth, as he laughs against your palm, heating it up. “We did nothing.”

“You know orgasms help headaches? Scientifically- don’t go!”

“You’re an ass.” You’re snatched up by him then, big hands on your narrow shoulders, frozen in place with him behind you.

“Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame me for teasing you, Miss cancels our date.”

“I really did get crazy busy, family shit. I’m sorry.” You turn back to him, feeling his fingertips brush your bare skin as they slip down your arms, and see he is pouting, you giggle then.

“You laugh at my pain, brat?”

“Brat! You’re a brat. No, your pout is why I giggled, it’s cute.” You tap his lips now, remembering the feel of them on yours, fuck it had been a long week since you two had shared that moment in your room, you may or may not have played with yourself to the memory… maybe or maybe not several times this week.

Not that you’d tell him though. Just stress relief!

Yeah?

Yeah…

“I promise I’ll make it up. I felt bad… it was actually my cousin. She had a baby recently and came down with something.”

“So you spent your only day off doctoring?”

You sigh. “Yep.”

“Nerd.”

“Hey!” He’s laughing again.

“Fine, what about a drink at the bar across the street after work then? Something easier?”

Drinks with Gojo. Dr. Hojo.

Bad idea.

“Sure.”

Fuck. Maybe you can keep your pants on this time…

“Better not stand me up, missy.” He taps your forehead now. “I want to do a CT scan first, MRI if I see anything too crazy. That okay with you?”

“But I have work, Dr. Gojo… rounds…”

“Have your friends cover for just like thirty minutes, okay? Do they know you have headaches?” He asks, eyeing you as if you’re a case now. You know that look, you see it on him constantly as he assesses his patients.

“How do you know I get them alot?”

“You rub your temples all the time, and your neck. But I figured stress and exhaustion. It could just be that. But…” He trails off, brushing back a lock of your hair now, making your body light up with the gentlest brush. “Humor me and let me see inside your head.”

“You wanna be inside me so bad.” His eyes get lidded at your joke, and your breath catches at the look on his pretty face. “Fuck, bad joke.”

“Hmm, no… it’s true.” He tilts your chin up, your breaths mingling now, as the door knocks, and you step away quickly, only to earn his lazy gaze. “Those scrubs hide such a nice little body.”

“Shush Hojo.” You smack at him now, and he opens the door, you notice it’s Miwa, he lets her in and you tense up, ready to leave, what is their deal? And why do you care!? It’s not like you all have done anything but make out and…

And…

Fuck you can’t get his demon doctor fingering skills out of your damn head, it’s like he’s implanted there, whispering your anatomy just to fuck with you. You shake yourself out of it as Satoru talks to Miwa now.

“Could you prep a CT for me please, Miwa?”

“Of course I can. Hello Doctor!” She says brightly to you, you both had been much better this week after the intense situation where she’d questioned you, now she seems to truly respect you more. Though you wish it wasn’t just Gojo’s words.

“Hello Miwa. How are you handling today? It’s been crazy.”

“I know, ugh. I’m good, I’m about to leave for the day, I’ll prep it for you, Dr. Gojo, here’s the notes for the recovery of that patient you all just worked on too.” He takes them and smiles.

“Thanks Miwa. Have a good night.” She bounces off, and he smirks down at you, snowy lashes lowering. “You’re jealous.”

“What!? No! Of what, sucking Dr. Hojo’s dick?” You cross your arms, scowling up at his snarky expression.

“It was once. I don’t tend to go on dates or carry on, you know.”

“So why ask me?”

“Maybe you’re… different.” You pause at that, blinking a bit when he steps close once more. “Maybe I really can’t get your anatomy out of my mind.”

“Shush. CT scan.” You whisper, he’s too goddamn close, leaning low over you, so close you’re studying his perfect skin and his high cheekbones, fuck he’s even prettier up close. It’s really annoying.

Those blue eyes are absolutely stunning, of course they are, but it’s not just the color, it’s all of the things emoted in his eyes, the intensity of them. Your eyes keep darting to his lips, even when the throbbing in your head comes back, you gently rub your temple as you keep flickering your gaze back to his eyes, soon his cool fingers replace your own, rubbing gently.

“You don’t want to admit you liked it.” Satoru says softly, his breath tickling you as he presses in, your eyes close at how good it feels, sighing.

“I want to be taken seriously, Satoru. Not to be the intern that gets favored because she fucks her boss.”

“You stress too much. Maybe that’s the cause of the headaches.”

“Hmm… maybe.” You lean closer now, continuing to let him rub your temples further. “You assume I wanna fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”

“Oh, it’s an educated guess. By all your body language.”

“Shush, keep rubbing.” His chest shakes against your hands with laughter as he gently cradles your face in his hands now, pressing his lips to your temple. “That feels too good, better stop.”

“You’re really annoying, intern. Mmmkay go get yourself covered so we can get it done yeah?”

“Meet you there.”

*****

“I hate this shit, I feel like I gotta pee.” You grumble now, as Satoru is injecting the contrast dye into your arm, making you feel like you’re hot everywhere as you lay on your back right outside of the machine. Satoru’s lips quirk up, you try to ignore how good the man looks as your doctor for just a moment.

Impossible.

“I know, it’s the worst, but just for a few. I’ll be right over there, looking all inside you.”

“Fuck off.” You stick your tongue out and he wiggles his brows, stepping out of the room, you get tense, feeling yourself breathing a little too fast as he now speaks through the microphone.

“Alright, pretty patient.”

“You’re flirting with your patient during a CT scan?” His teasing eases your nerves, though you don’t admit it outright, a little smile plays on your lips.

“Only patients this pretty.” He murmurs, and you ignore the blush on your cheeks, must be the contrast dye overheating you. “I’m easing you in, yeah? Just stay as still as you can and breathe.”

“Yes, Sir.” He hums then a bit, and you’re sliding into the donut shaped scanner, you always hate these things. As it starts swirling around your head in circles, you try to ignore the whirring sound, the overwhelming fear, what could be wrong, what could it mean-

“Don’t panic, it’s fine. Just checking okay?” Satoru’s voice interrupts your thoughts over the speaker now. Your nails are digging into your palm, a little sheen of moisture on your eyes that you suck up.

“Yeah.” Is all you manage, then it’s quiet as Satoru finishes the scan, as you’re eased out, he’s right there, unhooking you from the IV carefully, holding your arm and pressing a white square cotton to where he’d poked.

“You bleed a lot. Anemic?” He asks, and you should be surprised he knows, but he knows everything it seems.

“Just a bit, yes. I know, I should take my iron.”

“Mmm, anemia is pretty common in women, especially since I think all I see you eat is coffee. Maybe eat more? And add some protein?” He teases.

“I eat! But I’ll add some. Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You take his hand to help you out of the little bed then, ignoring as much as you can how good his hands feel when he steadies you by your waist, warm and pressing against your skin. Your heart races as you look up at him. “Did you see anything interesting?”

His lips tense a bit, more serious now. “I saw a little interesting spot right there, but I wanna look at it more. I’ll call you to go over it in a few?”

“Sounds good, thank you.” You manage, you don’t know how much he’s hiding or what he’s found.

“Don’t stress, intern, I will tell you if it is, yeah?” You exhale, nodding, leaning up a bit, lashes lowered as you take in those perfect lips.

“If I’m gonna die-”

“Shut it. Now get to those rounds.” He whispers, breath so close you can taste it, minty always with the mints and gum he constantly chews.

“Got it Doc.” He snorts at you, fingers brushing your jaw line, as you contemplate his jaw line, so much more defined, his face is so chiseled… his body…

Fuck.

You clear your throat, smiling. “That’s much better. I’ll talk to you soon, don’t stress about it okay?”

Sure you won’t.

*****

“Maki, what if I die before interning is over?” You grumble next to your best friend as you all make the rounds, Maki snorts now.

“Gonna die of no Dr. Gojo dick?”

“Bitch shush!” She snorts as you look around wildly.

“No bitch, you shush. Why do you think you’re dying? I mean… we all are, but why so soon? You can’t die, I need to live with you.”

“You can have the house.”

“I still want you around!” You both pause in front of the patient’s door now, sighing and looking at each other. “Is something actually wrong?”

“I’m just panicking. I have some bad headaches… and did a CT.” You murmur, she frowns then, emerald eyes studying you seriously behind her black frames.

“Everything okay?” She asks, a little softer.

“I’m sure it is, I just panic when I don’t know the answers to things. Fuck… I could use some lorazepam in the arm.” You joke, she giggles with you.

“We all could, that’s for sure. Oh fuck… look.”

You take the chart from Maki then, raising your brows as you look at the patient’s records. “They’re blue?”

You both look at each other then eagerly pace to the room, where indeed there’s a young man, and he is in fact blue. He smiles a bit at you both, waving his silvery blue tinted fingers. “Hello ladies.”

“Hello.” You both say, looking at each other, then back at him. He laughs now, sighing.

“I know, I look like Papa Smurf.”

“No!” You say.

“Yes!” Maki says, and then the three of you burst out in laughter.

“At least you’re honest.” He muses, and the both of you approach him now, you take his hand and turn it over, seeing the palms were more of a typical color.

“When did this start happening?” You ask softly, Maki is checking his vitals, not hiding her curiosity.

“I’ve been blue for… probably a month. I’ve just hidden in my house.” You put aside the medical curiosity then, you feel the pain hidden in his voice. “Didn’t wanna scare the masses.”

“Anything in particular you consume? Colloidal Silver can cause this.” You say softly, he shakes his head then.

“I don’t think so? I’d know if I took silver, right?”

“Yes, it’s a supplement. Hmm… and anyone else in the family ever…”

“Turn blue?” He finishes. You nod. “No. Not that I know of?”

Maki and you look at each other, and you can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. You’re thinking it too, but it’s so rare and so weird.

“Methemoglobinemia?” She murmurs, and you tilt your head, sighing.

“I mean it’s possible, but that’s genetic, he’d have been blue. But let’s check for that and any potential exposures to chemicals that could cause this. It’s definitely not a typical case of methemoglobinemia, but we have to rule it out. Don’t worry, we’ll get you all figured out…” You check his name. “Muta, yeah?”

“Yeah. You mean I may not be blue anymore?”

“We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise.” The door opens then, and Miwa comes in, gasping a bit, before smiling. Muta lights up when he sees her, his eyes glinting, you see it then, he has a crush.

“Your hair is the color of my skin, we’re meant to be.” Muta teases, Miwa laughs softly, coming in then as you two fill her in.

“Got it ladies, I’ll get these labs going.”

“Thanks Miwa.” You say, patting Muta’s shoulder. “We’ll get you back to normal, I promise.”

“Thank you, Doctor. And Doctor Maki.” She gives him a thumbs up, and you both walk out now, as the fluorescent lights make your headache worse. You wince now, rubbing your head again.

“Take a break babe, it’s okay. He’s not dying, he's just blue.” She says, as you are shaking your sore head now. Your phone goes off and you see it’s a text from your ex, you roll your eyes. “The ex?”

“Of course it is. Begging to see me over and over. I’m dreading the moment he comes to the house.”

“Shit, he’s really missing that coochie-”

“Maki!”

“It has cobwebs now.”

“You bitch!” You shove at her now, as Yuta and Toge walk up, both laughing at the two of you. Toge tilts his head when you rub your temples again.

“Hurt?” He asks quietly, you nod, sighing when his hand is on your forehead, you moan just slightly at how cool it feels.

“Feels so good.” You take his hand, pressing more, then feel him tense. You look up to see he’s bright red, and then he runs away. Your brows go together, as you blink in confusion, and Yuta covers his face, shaking his head.

“And you tease him! To torture him!” Yuta says, you glare then.

“What now!? His hand felt cool.” You grimace, leaning against the gray counter of the reception, as everyone flits back and forth by you.

“Hey you alright?” Yuta asks softer now, brushing back your hair.

“She’s got a nasty migraine again.” Maki murmurs, then comes with a little paper cup of water. “Drink babe.”

“Thank you.” You sip the cold water now, feeling it chill your lips and teeth. “Did I really upset Toge again?”

“He’s just in love with you, now you touched him. He’s going to be infatuated for days. I’ll have to hear.” Yuta winces now, you laugh, sucking in a breath as it starts to ache worse.

“He barely talks, how do you know?”

“It’s obvious. But you’re too into white haired doctors.” Maki whispers, earning a smack on her hand when she touches your forehead. “Hmm, no fever.”

Your phone goes off again, and thankfully it’s Gojo and not your annoying ass ex, you don’t need more of a headache. “Oh, he has results. I should go… can you-”

“We’ve got it, go.” Maki murmurs. You smile thankfully, heading towards Satoru’s office now. You knock carefully.

“Come on in.” You shut the door behind you, and Satoru smiles easily, calming your nerves somewhat.

“Come check out your brain, it’s pretty cool.” You laugh softly, and come to where he’s sitting, leaning over to peer at your brain on his laptop now. “So this… is what I think is causing your headaches.”

You look then to a little mass, panicking, damn near falling back, so much he has to catch you with his big hands. “A tumor!?”

“Calm down, no. Shh.” Satoru sits you right on his thigh then, brushing a hand down your back, tilting your chin to look at him. “I wouldn’t casually say ‘you have a tumor’ like that. Breathe.”

“Shit.” You take several breaths, leaning your head back, trying to compose yourself. “So what is that then?”

“Kind of a tumor?”

“Dr. Gojo!”

“I’ll explain if you calm down.” He presses his hands on your waist gently, pointing back to the screen. “So it’s something called a false tumor, it’s typically from head contusions. Bash your head on anything a couple years back?”

You steady your breathing now, trying to focus. “Shit, yeah I did. I was getting some things from the attic and had a whole bunch of old dvd players whack me in the head.”

“Ancient ass.” He teases.

“Hey I have VCRs up there too!”

“Fuck you’re old.”

“You’re old!” He’s chuckling now, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “You’re doing it again, cheering me up.”

“Yeah, and it worked.” He taps your nose, watching it scrunch, little crinkles on the sides of his own brilliant blue eyes as he smiles. You realize then, you don’t want to get off his lap, fuck you wanna stay here. You feel good here. His arm casually wrapped around you, and suddenly you realize your warmth on his thigh, gulping now. Did he notice!?

He notices everything.

“I should…” You go to stand, and he presses you back down, firm thigh between your thighs, pressing up where it shouldn’t through the thin fabric of your scrubs.

“You should stay, let me explain what it is. Yeah?” You nod a bit, realizing that for just a bit you couldn’t think about your head hurting, even as you all are staring right at a scan of your brain. Satoru uses one of his long fingers to point at the spot, where you see it raised up. “A false tumor.”

“False tumors, I haven’t heard much about them.”

“It’s essentially intercranial hypertension, which translates to your brain is stressy-stressy.” You snort in laughter then, and his hand far too casually brushes down the outside of your thigh as he leans forward, pressed so close against you.

“My brain is in fact stressy.”

“See! I’m so smart, admit it.” He grins deviously, you snort in laughter at him, shaking your head.

“A little bit.” You gesture, squishing just a bit of space between your finger and your thumb now.

“I’ll take it. So there’s no sense removing it, seeing as that’s just opening a can of worms. A spinal tap would help relieve the pressure.”

“Spinal tap, yuck.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re a big baby.”

“Am not. But yuck. Anything else? Lots of tylenol?” You find yourself turning now, he’s pulled you further on his lap, it shouldn’t feel this easy, this normal. Why does your head hurting not even matter now that you’re so close to him, now that you inhale his cologne, feel his touch.

“That sounds like liver problems waiting.”

“Well my wine at night does that.” You say with a smile.

“A little wine is good for you. Blood flow.” Satoru murmurs, gently running his fingertips up and down your arms now, you tremble just a bit at it, at how good it feels, a network of goosebumps left in his wake. His blue eyes darken just a bit as he watches them form, and suddenly it’s very quiet.

“Blood flow is good.” You say softly, to fill the silence, where all you hear is the pounding in your ears. “So any option three?”

“I can inject you with something to help the pain, but you really can’t put off the tap too long. When do you actually get a break?”

“Um…” You try to focus. “I get Thanksgiving weekend off?”

“Okay we’ll do it around then.”

“You can’t just come do a tap on a holiday!”

“Sure I can, I’ll be here a couple hours anyway. But you’ll have to lie still for some time, so I just wanna make sure you have a day off.”

“Alright, the injections till then?”

“Mmhmm.” He’s closing the laptop now, and you hear your heartbeat just racing, blood pumping in your ears, Satoru raises a thin white brow. “Are you alright?”

“It’s odd, the headache is gone when you… touch me. That sounds stupid, ugh.” You stand now, covering your face with a sigh. Satoru turns you so you’re right between his long legs now, hands firm on the curve of your hips.

“It doesn’t sound stupid. You’re getting endorphins from this.” He whispers now, so pretty this close he makes you ache, Maki is right maybe you do have cobwebs there, and his touch ignites your body. Like you’re on fire, especially when he cups your face.

“Satoru, what are we doing?” You whisper, he sighs, thumb brushing across your lower lip.

“Feeling things. You think too much. So dramatic, a fake tumor and alll.”

“Jerk!” You shove at him, unable to stop the grin from forming, craving his touch, more and more, when he pulls you flush against him you melt, hands bracing on his chest now, feeling the strong muscles flex under your touch.

“We should touch more if it helps your head.” His lips are right there, your noses touching as you hover, his snowy lashes lowering over dilated eyes, hands slipping up your back, one big one splaying the expanse of it. You press even closer, feeling the heat in your tummy building. Fuck would it hurt to just-

Suddenly both of your pagers go off. “Shit, code blue.”

“Shit.” Satoru and you both jump up now, rushing out into the busy hallway, you both round the corner, the chaos of the ER coming into view. Nurses and doctors moved with a choreographed precision, each step calculated and deliberate, as one of your patients from this week is in cardiac arrest.

“Shit shit shit.” You mutter under your breath, you rush in to see one of your elderly patients this morning now flat lining. You quickly begin compressions, pressing over and over as Satoru runs in, looking at the clipboard, studying you. “We need epi!” You say to the nurse, and Satoru stops her. “Satoru!”

“DNR, intern.” He turns the paper and shows you, the giant three letters, you gasp then, looking down at the lady you are working on.

“She has kids, she has-”

“She has a choice. Off now.”

You release her now, feeling tears flow as you watch the monitor completely flatline now, you remember her kids were literally just here, with her grandkids. She was laughing, smiling. You almost thought she was doing better…

“Intern, call time of death.” Satoru says.

You scowl at him through your tears, even if you know he’s right, and he sets his lips in a firm line. You see Maki, Yuta and Toge right outside the room, their eyes looking at you with concern, with worry. “Time of death is five- fifty- one PM.”

The nurse nods and writes it down, and you carefully cover the patient with one of the thin hospital sheets. “You can’t save everyone, you know.”

“I know, I know.” You choke up then, that headache right back, making you feel sick. “But to not save someone I could?”

“Her choice was to go. She’s been in pain a long time.” Satoru says, coming to stand next to you now, you feel bile rise in your throat.

“She seemed so happy today, so energetic even!?”

“Sometimes you get that burst of energy at the end. Maybe it’s… a bigger plan out there, to give your family something of what you used to be at the end.” You look at him through watery eyes, just exhausted.

Finger surgery.

A blue man.

Your own CT scan.

Some false tumor?

Now a death.

You want to go home. You want to lay in bed, curled in a ball in the dark, where maybe your head won’t pound. You want to throw up. You want to sleep for fucking days, trying to just not think. You want to just…

“Martha, her name was Martha.” You say now, and Satoru nods, a hand on your shoulder.

“Her name was Martha. Do you want me to tell the family?”

“No, she’s my patient. I will.” He nods then, eyes following you as you stiffly walk out, Maki, Yuta and Toge all come to you, but you hold a hand up. You’re barely keeping it together as it is, if one of them hugs you, you know you’ll fall apart. “I’m fine you all, promise.”

As you tell the family she passed, instead of the typical extreme upset, they almost seem a bit relieved, upset but relieved. “She was in so much pain, I think now… she’s free of it. Do you?” Martha’s son asks, and you struggle to hold you composure, feeling your stomach want to retch it’s contents, which were literally just coffee and a fucking croissant from this morning.

“She’s not in pain anymore.” You agree softly, and Martha’s granddaughter, about your age comes next to her dad now, looking at him, then you.

“Did she seem peaceful?” She asks softly, you nod then, giving a touch of comfort to her shoulder.

“She did, she seemed so happy to have been with you all I think. You may see her if you wish to.”

“We would like that. Thank you.” After they walk out you watch them pass by Satoru, who has his eyes on you.

You can’t let him see you so weak! You shouldn’t be so weak, you’re a doctor, you see death every single day. You rush into the locker room, thankfully finding it empty, before heading to the bathroom, leaning in and emptying the contents of your stomach, retching everything out. You get so weak as you do, dry heaving then as you feel yourself falling apart.

You’re sobbing over the toilet, flushing it, when you hear the door open and close, and suddenly you feel hands on your back. You shake your head, taking several breaths. “Go away, it’s gross.”

“You just cleaned out fingers that were cut off.” Satoru says softly, you laugh then, in between tears, as he holds your hair back for you. “Aw it’s like we’re besties, just having drinks you know.”

“Oh stop it. I’d kiss you if I didn’t just puke.”

“Please don’t, I don’t like you that much.” You laugh once more, before bursting into tears, and Satoru holds you, brushing your hair gently as you cling to him. “It’s normal to break down, surprised it took you so long. Been months.”

“I want to keep it together. I want to so badly.” You’re soaking his light purple scrub top, you see the blotches of tears forming as you cry more, letting him hold you. “Why are you so…”

“So handsome? So smart?”

“So comfy.”

“Huh, didn’t expect that one. Calling me fat, brat?” You giggle again, looking up at him now, his pretty face swims with how many tears you have.

“Not at all, no body fat on you. Just… comfortable I guess.” Your hand rests right over his heart, feeling it steady under you, trying to make your heart match, to slow your breathing down. Maki walks in then, kneeling quickly, brushing your hair back.

“Baby, you okay?” She asks softly, and you manage a weak little nod, as she kisses your head. “You’ve had a long day.”

“We all do, I shouldn’t act like this.”

“Babe we all puked at some point. Yuta was the first day.”

“He’s got a weak stomach, that one.” Satoru says, then looks at you and Maki with a little smile. “Maki, stay with her for a bit, I’ll get her some zofran, and I’ll get you something for the headache, yeah?”

You nod weakly, holding his hand then. “Thank you.” You say, he runs a thumb over your knuckles and just stands then, heading out. Maki cups your face carefully, studying you.

“You okay? Seriously.”

“I have some… fake tumor thing.” She gasps. “No, no, it’s fake. I don’t know… Satoru said maybe a spinal tap?”

“Satoru huh. Chummy.” You roll your eyes, sniffling as she helps you up. “Let’s brush your teeth, you don’t wanna kiss your doctor like this.”

“Maki, I can't kiss him. I can’t be with him.” You choke up once more.

“Just stay careful and sure you can. Do you think he’s serious though, or is it one of his… what do you call them?”

“Hojo moments.” You brush your teeth in the sink, grimacing at your appearance, you have mascara streaked under the dark circles of your eyes.

“Hojo moments… well about Miwa, seems like her and Papa Smurf are actually hitting it off. He’s hot now that his blue is fading.”

You perk up now, brows raising. “The blue is fading!?”

“Mmhmm, your first guess of methemoglobinemia was correct. Does that make you feel better maybe?” Maki’s eyes are concerned, you nod then, making her smile return just a bit. “Knew it, Miss know it all.”

“That’s you!” You spit out toothpaste, rinsing your mouth out now, as both of you laugh. The alarm goes off, your shift is done. “How’d it not present itself for so long I wonder?”

“I’m wondering the same thing. Already started the Methylene blue and Insane doses of Vitamin C. It’ll take a bit but he’ll be normal soon.” You wash up your face now, dabbing the bits of mascara off.

“One good thing today.”

“Two good things.” Satoru says, as you and Maki head to the locker room. “The finger surgery seems successful so far, we’ll keep him and monitor, but he could feel them.” You grin at that, at least something was going good today, aside from the ever more comfortable presence of Doctor Gojo.

“That is good news!”

“Now have a seat, let me make you feel good.” He teases with a grin, Maki snorts then, heading to her locker.

“Let me get out of here first, god.” You stick your tongue out, as Maki is sliding off her scrub top.

“I should get out of these real quick too if that’s okay? Before you poke me.” You say, he nods then, setting down the two vials.

“Let’s all get naked then, ladies.”

“Oh jesus.” Maki is dressed quickly, sliding her jacket on while Satoru is undressing, she sees him shirtless then and gives you an audacious wink, earning another eye roll from you. “Is she good to drive Dr. Hunk?”

“She’ll be fine from it, don’t worry. If not, I'll take her home. Having a drink after work anyway.” Maki pats your head once more, kissing your forehead then.

“See you home then. Night Dr. Hunk.” Satoru is giving some smoldering look that makes you and Maki both almost pee your pants, as she leaves you both alone now. Satoru has slid into a soft long sleeve black shirt and dark jeans, as you’ve gotten into your own clothes, you keep your jacket off, sitting on the bench and holding your arm out now.

“It needs to get injected in your ass.” He says then, and you gasp, making him grin wide.

“No way!”

“Yes way. Not the zofran, that’s just a little pill. Open up, pretty.” You open your mouth now, and he places the little pill under your tongue, gently closing your mouth with his fingers pressing your chin up.

“Fuck I hope it works quick.” You sigh as it dissolves, Satoru nods and tears open the package now, grinning like a devious ass devil. “You really gotta do this in my ass cheek!?”

“I really do. I’ll be completely professional, no worries.”

“Uh-huh sure. Well… alright then.” You turn now, unzipping your jeans and pulling them down, revealing your ass cheeks and your panties. He whistles, a hand coming to trace the bottom of them now, making your tummy clench with desire from just that. “So professional.”

“I need the panties off.”

“You do not. Dr. Pervert.”

“I’m Dr. Hojo and Dr. Pervert now?”

“Mmhmm. Fine, you little shit.” You slide down your panties completely, and his breath catches as he sees you, suddenly he’s quiet, then he’s bending down to sit on the bench, turning your now bare ass to him.

“You hiding that ass in your scrubs is such a crime.” You shake your head, ignoring how good his touch feels, even as he’s dabbing an alcohol pad on it, his breath against your skin does insane things, you have trouble forming a word.

“Your flattery works on those girls because you’re hot, not because you have any rizz, you’re so rizzless.”

“Rizzless my ass.”

“Ow!” Satoru has jabbed the shot in your ass cheek then, it stings and burns, you cry out, nearly jerking, so he holds you still with a hand on your hip. “You jabbed it hard on purpose!”

“Aw, need me to take it easy when I stick it in, baby?”

“Oh fuck off! Oh… I… mmm…” Suddenly the headache you’ve had all damn day is easing, you sigh now, feeling so blissful you can ignore the fact that your ass stings. You ease your panties up now, then your jeans, sighing as you turn to him, they’re still unbuttoned and unzipped, his eyes are locked right on you. “That felt so good, thank you Satoru.”

“You’re welcome, intern.” He murmurs, softly, watching you zip up your jeans and button them. “You’ll still need the tap, it’ll help for months.”

“I will. Thank you for everything today, really.” You cup his face now, before thinking better of it, pressing your lips against his softly. “A thank you kiss.”

“Can I get a thank you hand job? I’m having an issue.” You shake your head with a laugh, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Absolutely not. But you can buy me a drink.” You grab your jacket and slide it on, and he eagerly hops up.

“Yeah?” His blue eyes light up, melting you further.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you there, Dr. Pervert.” You grab your keys, but Gojo passes you quickly as you all walk out, opening your door before he runs off to the car, making you giddier than you’d admit.

*****

“You’re drinking the fruitiest drink they make.” You say later on, as you both are sitting at the bar, and the bartender hands you a cosmopolitan cocktail, and hands Satoru a Sex on the Beach.

“Lemme enjoy my sex mmkay?” You go to pay and he stops you. “Put it on my tab please, and a tip for now.” Satoru hands the bartender cash, he smiles at the two of you.

“Anything you all want, fruitier even.” You both laugh now, and Satoru and you go find a little table on the side of the bar towards the window, you sit and sip on your drink as your phone buzzes away. You swipe it off.

“Annoying ex?” Satoru asks, leaning back as he looks at you.

“He’s so annoying. It’s been months of me ignoring him, you would think he’d get the hint.”

“And you don’t date now?”

“Um… it’s hard to think about dating with our hours, you know?” He nods then, pouty lips encircling a straw as he sucks up more of his drink, and you wonder at how Satoru makes everything look sexy. “Do you date?”

He flicks his gaze up and down your body slowly, leisurely, as if he’s caressing you with his look. “Are you asking me out, intern?”

“Oh whatever, you asked me!”

“I don’t date right now, no, but I guess I have different reasons.” He murmurs, looking off to the window for a moment.

“Would you date? No, I'm not asking you out.” You say, studying him as he licks his lower lip, drawing your attention further to things you shouldn’t.

“I would, I’m not against it, I guess no one has sparked my interest enough. I mean aside from physically.”

“Any crazy exes?”

“I have an evil ex, actually. She’s scary.” He shivers now, you tilt your head curiously, sipping your own drink, feeling the warmth flow through you.

“Is she now? Like mean?”

“She’s mean alright. We just didn’t work out, our parents pushed us to get married too young, prominent families this and that. But we never even liked each other, she was pretty happy to divorce me. And I was too.” You digest the information slowly, mouth opening just slightly. “Yeah, I was married.”

“I didn’t expect that. You seemed like a bachelor, I guess.”

“I am about to be thirty four, you think I was single this long? Nah, I’m too handsome, baby.”

“Not your baby.” You kick at his feet, but he just grips your thigh now, burning over the layer of denim, and you wish it were on your skin instead.

“Not yet. You’re in love with me already, you just don’t know.”

“Oh am I?” He’s leaning closer across from you, blue eyes glittering in the dim lights of the busy bar.

“Mhm, you are. It’s okay, everyone falls in love with me.”

“You’re so loveable, so humble.”

“I know I am… hey.” You giggle now, smacking his hand off, finishing your little martini off and exhaling.

“I needed this, ugh… thank you Satoru.” He smiles a bit, finishing his as well now. “Your wife was… well, you’re not a guy you leave.”

Shit, you said that.

You cover your face then at his look of surprise. “I’m sorry-”

“Why apologize for that? Sounded like a compliment. But she left for good reasons, we hated each other and were miserable. She still hates me still, but we’re more friendly now. Your boyfriend, did he leave you?”

“No, I left him. He was too controlling and I just… wasn’t feeling it. It sounds so silly compared to an entire marriage.”

“Nah, not at all.”

“I also just put med school first, I really did. I don’t think I gave him the attention he needed. So it’s on me a bit.”

“That’s mature as fuck.” You shrug a bit.

“Well, we had a drink, hmm?”

“Let’s have two?” You sigh, leaning forward on the table, elbow propped up, chin in your hand as you study the handsome man across from you.

“Two sounds like my resolve slips.” You say softly, Satoru leans forward as well, brushing your hair behind your ear, every touch and look making you weaker and weaker for him.

“Would that be so bad, intern? To let go.” You exhale now, leaning into the caress, lashes fluttering shut and casting shadows on your cheeks as he studies you for a moment.

“I have a feeling it would be hard to let you go.”

“Yeah, what if I bust quick? Have a small dick?” You burst into laughter now, and he pouts. “Maybe it is small, meanie.”

“That’s the other rumor, Gojo, that your dick is huge.” He blushes a bit, surprising you. “Oh you didn’t know that one! Shit.”

“I mean I’m not complaining but god, girls are gossipy.”

“Like you’re not!”

“Another drink?” He asks, standing up then, your gaze trails up his lithe, long body, as you feel the warmth spread through you.

“One more.” You agree, and he holds out his hand for you to stand, bringing you almost against him, knowing you’re teetering on the edge of a dangerous game, and when you both grab your next drink, Miwa walks in now, she pauses for a moment, before waving at the two of you and coming over.

“Dr. Gojo, I never see you at the spot.” She says, and for some reason you get nervous, looking down a bit.

“Yeah I decided she wouldn’t meet me for a date so I’d connive her into meeting me here at least.” He ruffles your hair and you huff, fixing it, ignoring the pounding in your heart at how good it felt to hear.

“A date?”

“Well, a pre date. Just a drink but she blew me off.”

“I really didn’t mean to. Um… is this weird or anything Miwa?” You ask nervously, she shakes her head with a little smile.

“Oh no, you’re fine. What you saw um… let’s just say I was having a bad day is all. We’re not together.”

“Heard you like Papa Smurf?” Gojo teases, she smacks at him then.

“He’s sweet. And less blue. Oh, my friends are here! See you two later.” She says, you watch her curiously, and Satoru is smirking down at you.

“Not everyone has to be dating or have feelings. You’re like some eighteen-hundreds Victorian lady.”

“Am not!” You’re laughing again as you all sip another drink, sitting side by side now, your phone goes off again now and you roll your eyes.

“Send him a pic of us together.”

“Shit that’s mean.”

“He’s a dick though? Yeah?”

“You tell me.” You lean close now, showing him the endless texts. Satoru whistles as he reads them, scrolling up.

“Shit, gaslight much?”

“The king. Fuck you smell good.” Your alcohol is clearly hitting, Satoru chuckles once more, hand stroking up and down your spine carefully.

“You smell good, sweet like lavender.” He speaks right against your ear, tickling it as he inhales now, sighing. “I noticed you switched shampoo back.”

“Hush, it wasn't because of you.”

“Of course not.”

You have the most fun you can remember, fuck when don’t you enjoy Satoru Gojo? When he’s walking you over to your truck, and the music is just a low hum now, though you feel it pulsing through your body, Satoru’s pressing your back against the car door, hands on either side of the top of your car, hard body so good against you. You bite your lower lip, hands sliding down his jacket.

“You want me so bad, you love to fight it. Why?” Satoru says softly, cupping your face with one hand now, leaning low.

“I don’t wanna be a notch in Dr. Hojo’s bed post.” You say softly. “I’m not judging, but I don’t wanna be just that to someone. I totally was going to at the party, ugh, but it’s not me. So, I fight it.”

“I have a feeling if I got you, I wouldn’t want more notches.” His thumb strokes your lip side to side, eliciting a little cry from the back of your throat that you can’t quite stop before it comes out.

“You think so, hmm?”

“Judging by your hot, sweet little pussy, yes.” Your cunt throbs around goddamn nothing, reacting to his words, to him pressing you further against your big old SUV, the cool metal against your back. “Those sounds you make…”

“Fuck… kiss me.”

“You’re demanding. And confusing, you know that?” His soft words are right against your lips, you cry out then, pulling him down as you tiptoe, kissing him over and over, mouth moving over his, his tongue slipped in between your lips. Your tongue slips around his, dancing then, as his big hands grip your waist.

Your hands slide up his chest, entwining around his neck, breasts pressing against his hard abdomen, nipples growing tight as desire fills you more and more. He grabs one of them now, thumb brushing over a peak, eliciting a whimper, your head falling back now, neck begging for his kisses. Satoru’s kissing your neck and grabbing your breast right in front of a damn bar.

It’s insane.

It’s stupid.

Right?

“Fuck I want to feel you again.” His husky voice melts you now, you’re now whining for more and more, pathetic for him, were you worried too much, could you just do this, just have sex? Did there have to be such complicated shit you always put on yourself? “You’re thinking too much.”

“How do you know?” Your words are against his ear now, as you flick your tongue on the earlobe, nipping just a bit.

“I just know, and you need to just feel.” He’s sliding his hand under your shirt, across your tummy, making it tremble under his touch, goosebumps rising. “How’s it feeling, pretty?”

“Feels… fucking good.” He chuckles deeply, as you breathlessly laugh, kissing him over and over. “But I usually need things to mean something. I know I’m lame.”

“That’s not lame.” He cups your face with both hands now, blue eyes boring into yours, the soft glow of the street lights ensconcing him, making him look even more handsome somehow. Even prettier. “It means something when I’m kissing you.”

You feel everything react to him, to his words. “It does?” He nods then, nuzzling your noses together, and his phone goes off, he sighs, scowling at it now.

“The ex?”

“Nah, parents. Worse. Say… you wanna pretend we date so I can bring a girl home for Thanksgiving?”

“What now?” You blink up at him.

“Yeah… they really want me to bring a girl home. You’re perfect too, they’d fucking love if I brought a top notch Kyoto Med school grad?”

“Oh gosh… I mean, I have no plans?”

“Perfect. It will make my mom so damn happy, she’ll love you. Aw we’re moving so fast you know.” He’s grinning wolfishly, eyes glinting down at you.

You love the idea far, far too much. “Alright, a good spinal tap and then I’m a whole Thanksgiving date.”

“Works perfectly for me. Good night, intern.” Satoru kisses you one more time, leaving you breathless.

“Good night, Dr. Gojo.” You slide into your car, covering your face and squealing then, yes you’re squealing like you’re fifteen again, not a twenty six year old doctor. “His kisses…” You squeal again, overheated as you go to start your car with a roar then, hating that you’re like some lovesick teenager.

Then you see him.

Satoru Gojo grinning as he watches you through your window. You gasp, sputtering, limbs flailing as you scream out, rolling down the window then, glaring right at him. “What the fuck!”

“Aw, you do love me. Already. So easy, intern.” Satoru teases, leaning in then, far too close.

“Whatever! Good night Dr. Gojo.”

“You-”

“Bye!” You leave then, catching his reflection in your rearview, stupid giddy grin on your damn face.

Shit this is gonna be messy.

So a LOT in this, I really want to explain how it would be to have SO much going on during a typical day, I hope it doesn't overwhelm her and Dr. Hojo's connection. We will be learning a lot more about Reader's ex and Satoru's ex soon <3

A/N: Totally added my own prob as a medical thing lol ( false brain tumor) they're rare and interesting. I love you all and can't wait to hear your thoughts!!!

Taglist: @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @jjknanamin

Part Four

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #doctor gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo fic

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harrywavycurly · 4 months ago

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Worth the Fight: A Little Treat

Masterlist: Here

CW: A few pregnancy symptoms, ultrasound stuff, baby things, slight panic attack, language, arguing, Harry is a dick, angsty bits.

A/N: This is one of the more dramatic parts of this story. I literally debated on the outcome of a certain part of chapter for two days, but hopefully y’all will be happy with the choice I made! And as always, let me hear your thoughts, comments or concerns✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496

Summary: You and Harry visit Dr. Andrews and the two of you learn some things that causes Harry to react in a way you don’t expect✨

You can feel the daggers Harry is shooting at the side of your head from where he’s sat in a chair against the wall facing the side of where you’re currently sitting on the exam table in Dr. Andrews office, he’s been glaring at you with his lips pressed into a hard line ever since the nice young man walked into the room. You felt the energy in the office change the moment the Doctor stepped inside and offered you a warm smile and introduced himself, Harry all but went stiff at the sight of him, barely acknowledging him with more than a head nod and a tight lipped smile and you wanted to roll your eyes because you immediately knew what his issue was about. You simply ignore his glares as he crosses his arms over his chest while Dr. Andrews begins asking you some questions.

“So you think you’re about eight weeks is that right?” You just nod as he clicks his pen and writes something down on the paper he has on his clipboard with all your information on it. “And you’re wanting to do a paternity test as well correct?” You once again find yourself nodding as if saying the words out loud will make everything more real, that this is happening you are in fact pregnant and are here to get an ultrasound and a test done so that the man who is still doing nothing but glaring at you can learn that it’s his baby you’re carrying. This time Dr. Andrews looks at you and offers you a smile as he slides his pen into the pocket of his shirt before he turns and places the clipboard on the counter near the sink that’s in the office.

“Now that we have the boring stuff out of the way what do you say to taking a look and maybe get a better idea of how far along you are?” You hear shuffling coming from the side of you making you glance over to see Harry looking visibly unamused at the doctor’s attempt to lighten the mood as his eyes watch Dr. Andrews sit down on a stool with a set of wheels attached to it allowing him to move about the space with ease. His eyes are practically glued to the man’s hands as he starts to put gloves on as he wheels himself over to the end of the exam table near where your legs are hanging off the edge.

“Oh uh-yeah I would uhm love to take a look.” You stumble over your words as Harry finally peels his eyes away from what Dr. Andrews is doing and stares at you with a blank expression. “Is that-do you want to uh take a look?” You ask with a quirked brow to which Harry licks his lips before rubbing them together as he gives you a small nod as confirmation making you smile as you turn and look at your doctor. “Will we actually see anything or-”

“Knock knock.” Harry jumps slightly as a woman enters the room in baby pink scrubs. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you I’m Nancy and I’m here to assist Dr. Andrews with the ultrasound.” She explains with a light chuckle as she looks at Harry and gives him a kind smile that he doesn’t bother to return, instead he just looks away from her and back towards you and he feels his eyes go as wide as golfballs making his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline at the sight that’s before him.

Your lower half has a thin sheet draped over it so Harry can’t see anything other than the flesh of your calves and the socks on your feet that are currently being placed in stirrups as you slide down lower on the exam table. He watches in horror as Dr. Andrews is handed a wand like device from Nancy as she takes a seat closest to the machine that Harry knows is for ultrasounds, but the thing in the doctor’s hand isn’t anything he’s ever seen before and he’s all of a sudden feeling extremely uncomfortable. He uncrosses his arms from his chest and places his palms on his knees as he finds himself leaning in towards the screen that Nancy is setting up, needing any excuse he can to look away from Dr. Andrews as he finishes getting everything ready. But Harry can’t help but glance over just in time to see him put something over the wand like device and that’s when he decides he simply has to know what’s going on.

“What’s uh-what’s that? That thing you’re putting on there?” Harry’s voice causes you to quickly turn your head to look at him, this being the first time he’s spoken almost the whole visit minus when he was asked questions about his own health history from the nurse before Dr. Andrews came in. You follow his gaze and before anyone can answer you let out a chuckle making Harry raise an eyebrow at you as he takes his eyes off what’s happening at the end of the table near your sock clad feet and up to your face.

“Oh right you haven’t seen one of those in a while have you? That’s called a condom.” You answer as you lay down so your head is on the pillow at the end of the exam table. Dr. Andrews lets out a low chuckle while Nancy hides her laughter by biting into her bottom lip as she gets the screen ready but turns it so for the time being only her and the doctor can see what’s happening.

“Really? Jokes? Now’s not the time for this.” He snaps with a huff as he sits back into his seat and begins to twirl the ring on his middle finger, a habit that you’ve noticed he does when he’s a bit anxious.

“Have you eaten today? You seem extra grumpy.”

“Yes I’ve eaten today it’s almost ten in the bloody morning.”

“Not a morning person then?”

“What? Yeah I’m a morning person. This is what normal people call the late morning. I’m usually up well before this.” You just turn your head to look at him as he lets out a scoff and you just roll your eyes at how annoyed he looks while sat in the chair a mere three feet away from you.

“That doesn’t mean you’re a morning person you know that right? That just means your body is used to being awake at a certain time.” You explain making him let out a groan as he runs a hand over his face and you know he wishes he could be anywhere else but in this room with you, about to get a glimpse at what in his mind could only possibly be his baby. You on the other hand are a ball of excitement at finally getting to see the little thing that’s been causing you to feel absolutely exhausted at the end of the day mixed with a hint of nausea tossed in at random times throughout the day.

“Doesn’t mean you enjoy the mornings.” You add after a brief moment of silence and Harry just shoots you a look, his way of silently letting you know he’s over the conversation and won’t be adding anything further to it.

“Okay you ready?” You turn your head and look down towards your feet at Dr. Andrews who is already looking at you with a smile on his face, you give him a nod and that’s when Nancy walks around the exam table to turn off the overhead lights leaving just the glow of the screen on the ultrasound machine and a lamp on the counter near Harry to light up the room. “You may feel some pressure but it shouldn’t cause you any discomfort.” Harry tries to focus on what Nancy is doing instead of what the doctor is currently doing between your legs with the wand.

“Now Mr. Styles this is called a transvaginal ultrasound and we do this so we can get a clearer picture of what’s happening so we can confirm a few things and it’s easier to do it this way than through the stomach.” Nancy explains in a soft and calming voice that makes you relax even though thanks to your hours of googling you already knew what to expect. You allow yourself to glance over at Harry and see him just nod his head at her words as he rests his forearms on his knees after scooting to the edge of his seat.

“Okay let’s take a look here.” You place your hands on your stomach as you feel a wave of nerves take over you and you wish you could reach over and grab onto Harry’s hand for comfort but currently he just so happens to be the least comforting person you know. “You’re doing great. Just try to relax for me.” You just nod and let out a deep breath and then all of a sudden you see Nancy’s eyes go wide momentarily before she turns to look at Dr. Andrews and taps a few places on the screen, you watch him lean in towards the screen and a small smile makes its way onto his face.

“Congratulations.” You feel a wave of relief wash over you as the word slips out of his mouth while Nancy turns the screen finally allowing you and Harry to see it. “You’re having twins and it looks like you’re-” Harry’s voice quickly interrupts him before he can finish his sentence.

“I’m sorry you-you said uhm-what did-what did you say?”

“I know it always seems to be a bigger shock to the dad-”

“I’m not-we don’t know if I’m-”

“Twins? Like you mean there’s more than one baby in there?” You ask cutting Harry’s rambling off making Dr. Andrews laugh and nod as Nancy points to one little section the screen with the tip of her finger that’s labeled ‘baby A’ and then she points to another section next to it that’s labeled ‘baby B’ but both just look like little beans floating around in a black bubble.

“That’s exactly what I mean and you look to be measuring almost nine weeks along and everything looks good.” You can’t really do anything besides nod as the realization that you’re going to have twins begins to sink in. “Let’s take a listen and-”

The sound of Harry standing up makes you sit up on your elbows as Dr. Andrews and Nancy pause their movements, wanting to give Harry time to process things before moving on having dealt with this kind of thing before from shocked parents finding out their little bundle of joy is suddenly two of more. You open your mouth to say something but quickly close it when Harry runs a hand through his hair as he turns to look at you, his eyes are wide and the hand that’s at his side is balled into a tight fist and you know he’s panicking and right now you can’t do anything about it because your legs are in the air and you have nothing on your lower half besides a sheet.

“Harry are you-”

“I can’t-I uh have to go.” Before you can even say anything Harry is gripping the doorknob of the exam room and throwing it open allowing him to make a swift and in your opinion, slightly dramatic exit. You stare at the door for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he just needs some air and he’ll be back but deep down you know better, this is the same man who left your apartment without saying goodbye and doesn’t handle situations like this well at all.

“Sorry about him.” You apologize with a sigh as you bring your focus back to Dr. Andrews who just gives you a nod and a small smile while Nancy gives you a look that tells you she wants to say something but she doesn’t, she just smiles at you and begins printing off photos from the machine.

“No need to apologize.” Dr. Andrews says quickly brushing the incident off. “Now do you want to hear your babies heartbeats?”

You let out a heavy sigh as you exit the elevator and step into the hallway your apartment is on, you adjust your hold on the box that’s currently now being held with one hand so you can dig around in your purse for your house key. It’s not until you’re further down the hallway that you notice him, sitting with his back against your front door with his knees bent allowing his feet to be firmly planted on the floor while his hands are resting flat against his stomach and you squint your eyes a bit to see the back of his head is resting against your door and his eyes are closed. You want to turn around and head for the elevator and leave him sitting there but his eyes shoot open and his head turns in your direction when a tube of chapstick falls out of your purse and hits the floor with a clunk.

“Shit.” You mumble as you look down at the chapstick that decided to betray you and announce your presence to the one man you don’t want to talk to or see and if it wasn’t your favorite one you would let it sit there and turn around and go back to the elevators or make a quick escape down the stairwell. You let out a huff as you squat down so you can quickly grab the tube and shove it back into your purse but when you go to stand up you feel a hand on the bottom of the box you’re trying to keep from tipping over, gently taking it from you.

“Are these donuts?” You ignore him as you steady yourself once you stand back up. “You shouldn’t eat all these at once that’s a lot of sugar.” You roll your eyes as you quickly take the box from him and walk the few feet to your door.

“You didn’t tell me he was a man.” Harry all but blurts out after a moment of uncomfortable silence and you lift your head to send him a glare as you stop right in front of your door. You knew that’s why he was is a foul mood at the beginning of the appointment, but you just didn’t think he’d bring it up now considering that’s not the biggest issue the two of you have to get through regarding his behavior today.

“Yes I did.” Harry wants to roll his eyes because he’s sure you didn’t but at the moment he can’t be bothered to because he’s just glad you finally decided to speak to him even if it’s in the most annoyed tone of voice he’s ever heard come out of another person before. “I said he has good reviews and he had an appointment today at nine. It’s not my fault you lack basic reading comprehension skills and didn’t catch it.” Harry crosses his arms over his chest as you speak, his mind mentally going over your messages and he hates that you’re right, hates that he did miss the little hints that he knows he could’ve easily picked up if he would’ve just paid a bit more attention.

You feel his eyes on you as you move the box to one hand and go back to digging around in your purse for your house key. Normally you have it out and ready to go, but today has been anything but normal so you just let out a small sound of frustration as you touch the bottom of your bag and don’t feel the familiar coldness of your metal key ring. Harry chews on his bottom lip as he watches you struggle to hold a box of donuts in one hand and dig around in your giant bag with the other, and he swears he’s never sees someone constantly be at odds with their purse before, it’s as if it hides your belongings from you on purpose. After a few minutes he decides he can’t watch you struggle any longer as he lets out an annoyed huff and uncrosses his arms so he can reach over from where he’s stood next to you with his body turned towards you, while yours is facing your door in what he knows is an attempt to not have to look at him and grabs the strap of your purse, that to his surprise you let slide off your shoulder without any resistance.

“You and this fucking bag.” He mumbles as he opens it up and you just roll your eyes as you turn so you’re now facing him as he digs around in your purse. “What’s the point of having so much shit in here if it takes you forever to even find it?” He asks as his brows pinch together when his hand comes in contact with something sleek but when he pulls it out and sees it’s just your AirPods case he tosses it back into the bag with a groan.

“Thank god.” He sighs a few moments later once he finally finds your keyring that has your car key as well as your house key on it. He drops your bag by his feet so he can put your key into your lock but before he can open the door you reach out and grab the doorknob keeping it closed.

“No.” Harry drops his hand from the door as he raises a brow at you making you just shift the box in your hand so it’s resting partially on your hip as you stare at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What do you mean no?”

“Oh you don’t hear that word a lot do you? I mean no as in you’re not allowed in my apartment.”

“What? But we-”

“There is no we.” Harry swallows hard as he watches your eyes get a familiar sheen to them. “There’s you and then there’s us.” His eyes glance down to your free hand that rests on your stomach and he instantly knows who you mean when you say us and it makes his stomach do a flip at the reminder that you’re carrying twins.

“Listen I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” Your voice is low as you try to blink away the tears that are beginning to make your vision a little blurry. “You left me in the middle of an exam just to be sitting at my front door hours later so you can say sorry? No that’s not how this works.” Harry feels like his heart is beating a mile a minute as you sniffle a few times between your words.

“I just got-”

“I don’t care.” You state cutting off whatever excuse he was about to toss your way as you bend down and grab the strap of your purse that’s still by Harry’s feet. “I don’t think we should talk until you get the results of the paternity test back. Which you still have to go give your sample for by the way since you left before they could get it.” You say with as much conviction you can muster in your slightly emotional state but you internally give yourself a pat on the back for getting all out in one go.

For once Harry doesn’t know what to say, he knows you’re upset and he knows right now there’s not a lot you’ll let him do or say to make it up to you so he just nods his head thinking that the least he can do is give you what you’re asking for without starting an argument.

“I agree yeah-yeah that’s a good idea.” You look at him almost in shock at how quickly he agrees to your request but of course he would agree to not speaking to you for a bit, something you assume he’s looking forward to. You sling your purse strap over your shoulder with an annoyed huff before reaching for your doorknob and Harry has to stop himself from reaching out and opening it for you.

“You know I was so excited about today because I just wanted to have that moment of like oh wow this is all happening when I saw my baby or I guess my babies for the first time and you- you had to go and fucking ruin it.” Harry hears you let out a shaky breath as a few tears make their way down your cheeks. “You Harry Styles are an asshole.” Your voice is watery but the words still sting as they reach his ears and the tears are free flowing now as you sniffle, but before he can even attempt to say anything, not that he would dare try to defend himself given the state you’re currently in; you open your door and take a step inside.

But just as you turn to close it Harry instinctively takes a step back wanting to give you some space, you glance down at the box in your hand and then look up at him allowing him to really get a good look at your face and that’s when the reality of what he’s actually done begins to set in. He watches as every blink causes more tears to slide down your slightly blotchy cheeks, the tip of your nose is pink from sniffling due to the unavoidable snot that comes with these types of tears but the worst of it is the look in your eyes that makes it almost painful for him to keep the intense eye contact with you because it’s a look that tells him this is all his fault. He’s the reason that a day you intended to be happy and joyful turned into you crying in front of your door while telling him you don’t want him to come inside.

“And yes these are donuts. I thought I deserved a little treat after everything I dealt with today.” Your voice snaps Harry out of his thoughts just in time for him to watch you close the door and when he hears the sound of your deadbolt he knows there’s no chance of you coming back out to talk to him.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, just staring at the gold lettering nailed to your door that says your apartment number, 5C but he knows it’s long enough that when he does finally move to run a hand through his hair his knuckles feel tight as if he’d been making a fist the whole time without meaning to. He lets out a long sigh as he turns to begin walking towards the end of the hall where the elevators are. He reaches into his front pocket for his phone but instead of calling for his driver he scrolls through his contacts in a anxious hurry to find the one person that he knows will tell him what to do and try to help him fix things. And Harry needs to fix things because right now he’s so lost in his own thoughts and feels as if he’s drowning in a pool of anxiety and stress that it’s causing him to hurt other people and that’s not who he is or wants to be. He needs help un-muddling his mind and seeing things more clearly and there’s only one person who can do that for him.

Everything happens in a blur as he steps into the elevator, not remembering even hitting the down button as he frantically thumbs at his screen until he finally lands on the name he’s looking for. He looks up just as the doors open on the ground floor of your building and the moment he walks out of the small space he hits the call icon and brings the phone up to his ear while he heads towards the front entrance of your complex. It’s darker outside than it was when he first got to your apartment, a sign that he sat outside your door for at least a few hours and stood there a good bit after you told him he couldn’t come inside.

“Harry?” He doesn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he feels his lungs release a deep exhale as soon as her voice floats through the receiver and into his ears after a few rings, he doesn’t miss the slight scratchiness to it letting him know she was probably asleep before he decided to call.

“What’s wrong?” Of course she asks that, of course she knows there’s something wrong. It’s only then that Harry feels as if all the events of the past few weeks from you first contacting him about being pregnant to the exam this morning hit him and his eyes begin to sting and his heart feels as if it’s going to beat out of his chest.

“Mom I-I.” He starts to talk but then has to stop and take a few deep breaths to try to calm himself down but it’s pointless as he feels tears begin to gather at his waterline and his lungs feel as if they can’t take in enough air all of a sudden. “I don’t know-know what to-to do.” He manages to get out between shaky breaths as he stops walking when he spots a bench and that’s where he finally allows himself to break down, on an uncomfortable wooden bench on a dimly lit street only a few feet from your apartment complex while on the phone with his mom.

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ateliersss · 8 months ago

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Oh, take me back to The Night we met

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Attempted Rape, SA, Murder, English isn't my first language Word Count: 10.162 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ Surprise! I hope you are surprised because I was starting to doubt myself. I actually believed I wouldn't even finish it this year. Anyways, I wrote the finishing 6.800 words in the last seven hours and my brain is mush. I hope it didn't affect the pace or logic of the plot. If so, I will edit it in a few days. Comments are always appreciated.

⇨ Also, if you tell me I wrote an unrealistic reaction to seeing a Yautja's face for the first time, let me tell you, you and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't reacted the same.

1936, Earth

"Thank you, ma'am." The soldier in front of you returned your identity card, the national animal printed on it facing you.

You returned his bright smile with a tight one. You were already used to identifying yourself to patrolling soldiers after work. It was for "safety measures", according to the government.

While you were busy putting away your identity card, the boy looked nervously over his shoulder to his comrade who nodded back to him, encouraging him to finally man up and just tell you what he had rehearsed a dozen times already to eventually make a move on you and ask you out.

"A-And thank you for your service, ma'am!" He blurted out, louder than he intended to, with a soft blush covering his cheeks.

You closed your purse and looked up at him in confusion.

The boy, you now noticed, had to be at least five years younger, probably around the same age as your younger brother, Emil. And you recognized him now, too. He was patrolling around this area two to three times a week.

At your confused face, he gestured a little awkwardly to your uniform, the white dress and blue-grey blouse underneath it. "D-Doctors and nurses are in desperate need in times like these a-and saving lives is a remarkable job!"

"Oh." You looked down at yourself before you pulled your coat tighter around your body and smiled softly at him. "If that's all, I'll take my leave now. Have a good night, gentlemen."

He visibly deflated at your words and mumbled a quick "Have a nice evening, ma'am." but you barely got half of it when you turned around to continue your way back home. The second your back was facing them, your smile dropped.

You hated it, hated this, this so-called life you and everyone around you had to live. Horrible and disgusting things were happening, but no one dared to speak up. You were all trapped, too scared to act, too afraid to do something.

And the people could feel it, the tension that was stretched so tautly that was just waiting to snap. The whole world was holding its breath, deferring that one moment when the match would ignite and reduce everything and everyone to rubble and ash.

Meanwhile, your brother was beaming with pride as he was now considered old enough to join the army and could finally fight for his country. On the other hand, your father, the only other family you still had in this world, was far more reluctant when it came to the plans of the government and his son's naive blindness of patriotism.

No one was talking about the horrifying wrongs your home country was doing for years now, but everybody knew, everybody saw. And if someone even dared to utter a word about it, they disappeared.

That didn't stop your father from ranting about it behind the closed doors of your home. He did so, of course, in Emil's absence. He was family, yes, but nowadays blind obedience could manipulate even a brother and son to go against his own kin.

You loved your brother dearly. He was a good guy and he only held a very strong pride for his home, his people, and his culture. But sadly that was the only thing he acknowledged around others. He denied the "rumors" of a genocide going on and overlooked unintentionally the more sinister motives of others in the world of politics and the military. He was truly and utterly blind, but you couldn't condemn him for that. Not really.

The Great War ended when Emil was three years old and you remembered him crying when your father told him he couldn't participate in it anymore. Ignorant of the horrors that happened at the Front, he and a few boys from around the neighborhood would play war and were disappointed when they were told it was over. The worst part was the elder men sitting on benches near their battlefield, telling them their people were the superior power since they had been able to hold their own against three opposing countries in the end.

You sighed and started to fumble around in your purse for your keys as you reached your destination. After a quick look into the mailbox — the usual evening newspaper and another flyer that encouraged men between the ages of twenty and forty-five to sign up for the military — you made your way up to the first floor and poked around in the lock with the key, a little distracted by the newspaper as you were searching the headlines for anything concerning. There was another report about a skinned man found hanging upside down from a church tower. Unbelievable. At times like this and there was a maniac running around, killing people in the most grotesque way for fun.

"I'm home!" You called into the dimly lit hallway, knowing your father was sitting in his usual spot in the living room.

After dropping your purse next to the wardrobe, toeing out of the white pumps, shrugging off the coat, and hanging it on the coat rack, you walked through the corridor and past five doors. The ones leading to the bathroom and the kitchen were open as always, just like the door of Emil's bedroom. Although it hadn't been inhabited for a few months now, you would always leave it open after cleaning. It was false reassurance, but that way it seemed as if he was still home.

"How was your day?" Your father asked gruffly from his spot on the wing chair, the morning newspaper still in his hand before it got replaced by the evening issue you handed to him with a kiss to his temple.

"It was…"

Screams.

Blood.

Wails of a newborn.

A cold body.

"…long."

"Mhm." Your father hummed, his eyes scanning the front page before turning it. "Hah! Sightings of another black cloud of smoke and the authorities tell the public another farmhouse burned down. Do they think we are stupid? Unbelievable these people! Think they will get away with it, hiding it from the public eye, and no one would notice!"

You weren't entirely sure if he had even listened to you, but you didn't care. You weren't very eager to start a conversation with him anyway.

"I'm in my room. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Though you didn't expect a response, you waited a few seconds — maybe today he would ask if his son had finally sent a letter — before you turned around to retreat to your room.

Since your father had lost his legs in a bomb attack at a munitions factory where he had worked during the Great War, he had changed. A lot. Before, he was quite a gentle and jovial man who worked hard and never shied away from showing how much he loved his family. Nowadays, he was resentful and bitter towards everything happening around him.

It was exhausting, not only listening to his complaints day in and day out but also being nothing more than a maid and caregiver to him. You were the sole breadwinner in this house. You worked yourself to the bone in a business that was equally about life and death but gave you more grief than joy. At least it made the medical care of your father a little easier. The surgery, the medicine, and the wheelchair would have cost you a fortune.

When you would get off work, more would await you at home. Taking care of the household was your responsibility for nine years now since your father wasn't capable of doing it anymore. After the first week of dusting and sweeping, washing the dirty laundry and ironing the clean ones, going grocery shopping and cooking, as well as taking care of your father like washing him, helping him get to the toilet, and such, you cried yourself to sleep with the thought of quitting and running away.

But you didn't.

You were miserable, yes, but you stayed. You stayed with the hope of a better life in the future. Maybe you will be married to a nice man in a few years like your girlfriends already were. You had experience with men, sure, but none of them you would consider fit to be your husband.

In your bedroom, you quickly got rid of your uniform until you were only in your undergarments, a baby-blue silk panty that flowed around your mid-thighs and an uplift brassiere of the same fabric and color, both with a lacy hemstitched design. You were about to throw the white and grey-blue dress into your other dirty clothes when you noticed red speckles on the left sleeve.

Yes, the day had been long, too long for your taste, and when your shift did end, you felt hollow once more. You could still see her in that bed, screaming and crying.

Watching her, you had wondered if you would ever end up like her.

You shifted in your place, second-guessing before you finally turned and looked at your reflection in the mirror that occupied one corner of your bedroom. You hesitantly lifted your hands and placed them on your belly.

No. Your job showed you women struggle and in pain every day. You would never do that to yourself. Being a mother was not worth the probability of taking your last breath during labor, giving your own life while granting another to your child.

Today was another reminder of that.

The girl in the delivery room, Johanna, was sweet and lively. You met her occasionally on a monthly check-up when you assisted the doctor who took her into his care. She would tell you about her and her husband trying for this baby for years and how excited she was.

You bit the inside of your cheek when tears once again started to well up in your eyes when you thought of how helpless you had felt when you stood in that room. Your colleague, an older and more experienced woman, was holding the crying newborn in her arms. The doctor was doing his all to save the unsavable while Johanna's body got colder as the dark red spot grew bigger on the white linen of the bed.

Today had shown you once again that you would never let something like that happen to you.

"You have to incise into her abdomen."

Not ever.

"No!"

Not in a million years.

"No, Mi'ytiar… you have to, you have to."

You would never put someone else's life before yours, not even the one of your never-going-to-happen baby.

"Save our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please."

Sighing, you got ready for bed. You were far too tired this evening to get anything done. The laundry had to wait until tomorrow and your father probably already had eaten, so there was no need to get to the store. For now, you needed to stop thinking.

A whole week passed and you had followed your everyday routine like every other day. Occasionally, when you walked past the room where Johanna had delivered her baby and made her husband a widower, you paused and stared. Instead of the freshly made bed and the stark white linen, you saw her dying as she bled out. You saw the doctor, yourself by his side and the nurse holding the baby at the foot of the bed.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see said nurse smiling pitifully at you.

"You are still there, right?" She asked softly, her eyes scanning your face.

You swallowed and nodded. "It's like that every time I come here. I don't know why. She's not the first I watched dying during childbirth."

The elderly woman patted your cheek and guided you away from the delivery room by the crook of your arm, pulling you away from the sorrowful abyss before you could drown any deeper in it.

"You liked her, that's why." She started, "I had a Johanna, too. A long, long time ago. Although she was a lot younger, she was just as excited to be a mother. Poor thing died just like her baby."

You gasped and now it was you who looked with pity at her. "Why?"

"The baby was stuck." The older nurse sighed, "She pushed and pushed and tore. By the time the doctor started to cut her open, she died of internal bleeding." She had to clear her throat before she continued, "The baby died with her. A little boy. He got himself tangled up in the umbilical cord."

You turned your gaze from her face down to the ground and watched your feet walk an unknown route. Swallowing down your tears, you forced yourself to concentrate on not stumbling over your own feet.

You did like Johanna. You had empathized with her, even though children would never be part of your life. She had just wanted a baby, a part of her and the man she loved united in one body, and all that she got was death. She hadn't deserved it. At least the thought that she might be together with her baby in heaven now, thanks to her belief in God, soothed your heart a little.

"Go home, (Y/N)." The elderly nurse interrupted your train of thought.

Looking up, you saw her holding up your purse and coat. Apparently, she had led you to the lounge where the doctors and nurses spent their lunchtime.

"But I still have six hours to go." You tried to argue but bit down your lower lip when she shook her head.

"If someone should ask for you, I will tell them you didn't feel well and that I sent you home. There are certain benefits as the head nurse." She winked at you, pushed your belongings into your hands, and shooed you in the direction of the exit.

"I promise I will feel better tomorrow." You called over your shoulder and waved at her, giving her one last smile before you shrugged on your coat and left.

Thirty-two minutes later, you got off the bus and turned around the corner into your street, your purse dangling back and forth on your wrist. With your extra five hours, maybe you could finally start that book on your bedside table if your dad wouldn't find any reason to turn your attention to him.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, you walked a little faster, already searching for the key. Like always, you checked the mailbox — nothing again — before you hopped up the one flight of stairs to your apartment, the sound of your heels on the wood filling the otherwise silent staircase.

The noise seemed to attract the woman living across from you because you barely reached the top of the stairs when she ripped her door open and stared at you with wide eyes.

You paused and looked at her in concern. "Mrs. Walter? Is everything okay?" You asked and carefully inched closer to her.

For several moments, you didn't get an answer. Only when you opened your mouth to ask her again did she slowly lift her trembling arm and point past you at something you could not see.

Strange. The only thing back there was your apartment door, so…

The slamming of Mrs. Walter's door barely reached your ears when you turned around. All you could hear was eerie silence, not Mrs. Walter quickly putting her distance between her and the door, not the dog barking from above you that got awakened by the slamming door, not the traffic noises outside.

The door that you diligently locked every morning before you got to work and unlocked every evening when you returned home hung on its hinges. In quick strides, you reached it and ripped off the note that was nailed into the wood under the peephole. Your eyes scanned over the words as you pushed the door open and entered the apartment.

A search was carried out here due to a tip-off of a conspiracy against the country and its people. All residents are requested to report immediately...

Tears clouded your view and made it impossible to make out the rest of the words. But there was no need to. You already knew what you needed to know. Your father was dead, no questions asked, no evidence to prove that he was innocent or guilty, no interference by the judiciary. He had dug his own grave since he started to badmouth and criticize the current sins committed by the government.

You slowly navigated your way through your destroyed home, your hands supporting yourself against the wall, careful not to get caught in something with your pumps. You had to duck under the big shelf close to the entrance of the living room. It was tilted to the side so that the upper part was now leaning against the other side of the wall. Everything that had ever been placed onto it — pictures, plants, certificates, and other little knick-knacks — was now scattered on the floor.

It got even worse in the living room. Everything had been turned upside down. Your father's chair was thrown to the side just like the couch and the coffee table. The books from the huge bookshelf that covered the length of the smallest wall in here were pulled out and tossed on the floor, pages ripped out and strewn on the floor. Pictures were taken from the walls and the glass crunched as you stepped over them. Dirt was covering the floor as if someone had been digging in the soil of the potted plants. The carpet was overturned, partly thrown onto the couch, and revealed the wooden floor it usually covered.

Your living room had been thoroughly searched and you doubted the rest of your home looked any different.

In a daze, you carelessly let your purse drop to the floor and shuffled to your bedroom. Opening the door, you were greeted with a view you had expected — your bed was tilted to the side, clothes from your closet were now scattered on the floor, and your mirror was lying face down on the floor.

When you saw the pictures of you and your family carelessly thrown into the corner, you couldn't hold the sob in any longer. You sank to your knees, curled into a ball, and cried to your heart's content with your eyes squeezed shut.

You lost your mother at a young age, lost your father for the first time after his accident, lost your brother to the country, and now lost your father for the second and final time. Now, you were wholly and utterly alone. Not for long, though. If you didn't come forward and turn yourself into a possible fair trial in the next sixteen hours, you would be taken just like your father and die the same way he did.

Your breakdown had been apparently so nerve-wracking and tiring that when you opened your eyes, it was dark inside your room and outside your window. Groggily, you propped yourself up and looked around, disappointedly ascertaining that you hadn't been dreaming at all. Your eyes scanned your room, still a little out of it, until you spotted your clock on the wall, surprisingly intact. 9:24 PM. Now you had less than ten hours left.

How would you spend your last ten hours in freedom? You didn't know, but you for sure wouldn't do it in here. You needed to leave.

As quick as you could you switched your nurse uniform to a skirt and your favorite blouse, fixed your make-up and your hair to look less like a mess and more like the respectable woman you usually were, and left the apartment after putting on your shoes, coat and grabbed your purse. At first, you strolled around with no real destination in mind, but the darker it got the higher the risk of being stopped by a patrolling soldier.

You had enough money with you to occupy yourself with a few drinks, so why not enjoy yourself, let a little loose? You never really got the chance to try it out. Your job unironically prevented you from unnecessarily damaging your liver and you had the responsibility to take care of your family. Your girlfriends always invited you on girl's night, but sadly, you had to decline almost every time, be it your father or another night shift forced upon you. They had another planned on the weekend in a few days, the first one in a very long time you would have had time for. Not anymore. When they would sit around a table and share the newest gossip, you had already started to rot away in a mass grave.

You entered the first, non-shady-looking bar and plopped down on one of the bar stools on the right. When the bartender finally took notice of you, all he needed to do was to take in your gloomy figure pitifully slumped in your seat to grab a glass and fill it with a brown liquid. No words were spoken — you didn't feel like it and he noticed that — as you grabbed the glass, tossed the liquor back, and placed the now empty glass back down. The alcohol, whatever it was, burned like hell and you couldn't help but cough, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The bartender, meanwhile, wordlessly filled your glass again and without any hesitation, you emptied that one too.

You spend almost four hours like that. Losing count after your sixth shot, your head started to feel funny, like the world around you was spinning too fast. You mused what your life would have been like if your mother hadn't died when you were just nine years old, if your father hadn't lost his legs when you were seventeen, if your brother had chosen a normal job at your current age. You could have grown up like any normal girl, could have joined your friends more often to hang out, could have started going on dates again after your last boyfriend dumped you for neglecting him.

And what about your future? What about the man you wanted to marry in a few years? Every day, you daydreamed of someone who would just sweep you away in his arms and take you far, far away from here. There had to be a place somewhere where you could live your life in peace without a brewing war and the constant fear of death. You waited for someone who would make your life easier than it currently was, who would take the weight from your shoulders and not add some more on them every single day. Someone who loved you passionately and would spoil you after nine years of labor where you worked yourself to the bone. Someone who would take charge and let you rest when you needed it. Someone who was the other half of your soul that hopelessly awaited to be rejoined with its counterpart.

When you reached out to your glass for the nth time, a hand softly clasped your wrist. Looking up, you saw the bartender giving you the same pitiful look you had received for God knows how often today, from your colleague at the hospital to some of the other patrons who entered and left the bar during the last few hours.

"I think you should get home." He said firmly and pulled his hand away.

No longer being hindered, you lifted the glass up to your lips and emptied it in one go. "I no longer have a home." You dully answered, your speech a little slurred.

"We close in a few minutes." He tried another route, anything to get you to stop drinking.

He may not be interested in what personal business you have to drink yourself under the table, but even he wouldn't let a young woman like you do that to herself.

"Fine." You mumbled, grabbed your purse, and searched for the money that was stored somewhere in there. You hummed when you finally found it and without looking at it, you dropped it down on the counter. "Here."

You held onto the sleek surface of the bar to lift yourself up and from your seat, supporting your whole weight with one hand while you needed several attempts to grab your coat. Not bothering to put it on, you turned to leave and even you were surprised that you could still walk in a (more or less) straight line.

"Hey, you paid too much!" The bartender called from behind you.

Not bothering to stop or turn around, you simply proclaimed, "Keep it. Where I go I won't need it." and pushed the entrance door open.

Outside, you tilted your head up, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It instantly freshened you up and cleared your mind a little. Looking left and right along the sidewalk, you decided to take the left and began strolling wherever it was taking you, once again with no actual destination in mind. You had no idea what time it was, but you guessed you had around five or six hours left. If you're lucky and didn't get held up by some patrols, you could visit the park one last time where your parents, Emil and you would hold a picnic every summer when you were younger. It would only take you ten minutes on foot. It wouldn't hurt to visit the place that held so many good childhood memories and bask in them in your final hours.

You were walking for a mere two minutes when you heard a whistle from your right. Halting your steps, you turned your head to the side and looked over to the source. There, on the other side of the street, were two men sitting on a bench and two standing around them. One was holding a beer bottle while the others were smoking their cigarettes.

"Hey, pretty lady." The one with the beer bottle called over to you and lifted it to toast to you.

You quickly snapped your head back forward and continued on your way, your strides bigger and faster to create as much distance between you and them as possible.

When you thought you were safe, you felt a hand clasping your wrist whose owner pulled you back and against his strong chest.

"Hey, hey, hey." The voice of the man with the beer bottle breathed against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. "Don't be shy. We were just celebrating my friend's promotion." To your horror, he put his hands on your hips and turned you both to his three companions who had seemingly followed him, all of them wearing leering grins. "Why don't you join us, hm? We could need a little entertainment." He murmured against your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Before he could place his lips anywhere close to your skin, you struggled out of his grip and stumbled a few steps away from him. "I-I'm sorry, but I need to go home. I'm already late."

The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch stepped closer to you, smirking when you accidentally walked right into one of his friends. The guy immediately held you against him, keeping you in place.

"I think you could spare a couple of minutes." The leader said firmly and reached for your blouse.

Fear seemed to be a great way to quickly sober one up because the next thing you did was stomp down on the foot of the man that was holding you, your heel hitting his toe perfectly, causing him to let you go with a cry in pain and a curse. Next, you rammed your knee into the crotch of the man in front of you and when his body doubled over, you pushed him to the side and bolted down the sidewalk.

Not daring to look back, you sprinted as fast as you could, but the alcohol made it hard to keep balance, not to mention the nausea that bubbled up in your stomach. But you ignored it and tried to keep it down when you heard their calls from behind you, coming closer and closer.

This was not how you wanted to spend your last night, this was not how you imagined it. Tears clouded your view and you narrowly escaped the grabby hand of whatever guy that was closest to you when you ducked down and sharply took a left turn into an alley.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.

The next thing you felt was hard concrete as you fell forward when a heavyweight collided with your back. You cried out in pain when you hit your head, then hysterically screamed in panic when you felt hands on your skirt and you started kicking around, not caring if you hit something or not. You heard a grunt when your heel finally made contact with the shoulder of one of them, but you barely had time to bask in your little victory when a punch to your face almost knocked you out cold. Your body went instantly slack, a long-winded groan leaving your mouth.

"Move your ass and hold her down." The voice of the leader sounded from somewhere above you. "And turn her around. I like to watch their face when they give up."

Hands turned you on your back as your screams and cries accompanied your attempts to fight their hands off.

"No… please no." You begged as your wrists were pinned above your head by a pair of rough hands. "No!" You screamed louder, in a high-pitched, panicking voice when your blouse was ripped open, your brassiere following suit, and your chest got groped by a calloused hand.

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt an eager mouth around your nipple, harshly sucking on it while your breasts were still in a painfully hard grasp. You tried to gather your last strength, the drinks earlier and then the hit to your head from the fall tempted you to just fall unconscious, but you bucked your body up in hopes you could throw whoever was above you off of you.

Only you couldn't move. Someone was straddling your thighs, hindering you from moving.

You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and the blurry image of the leader pushing up your skirt presented itself in front of you.

"Stop, please! Help!" You started screaming again, causing the leader to sigh in annoyance.

"Could you please shut her up, for fuck's sake? I'm trying to enjoy myself here." He growled at the guy who was holding your hands down, his patience growing thinner with every passing moment he wasn't able to force himself inside you. "When I'm done with her, you get what's left of her."

"No, no, no..." You wailed when you heard the clinking of his belt and a zipper being opened, but you soon got silenced when a palm pressed down on your mouth.

Rather than keep watching him, you closed your eyes in defeat, now only feeling how he moved closer to your crotch, his fingers pushing your underwear aside, and positioned himself against your entrance.

A dull thud behind your attackers stilled them for a moment, but a raging roar got them to whip around. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever feral animal was going to maul you and those men.

A scream, something wet splashing on you and something, someone, heavy landing on top of you got you to finally open your eyes again. You stared right into a gaping hole where the head of a person normally should be. Maybe it was the shock of almost ending up left on the ground in this alley, covered in bruises, blood and bodily fluids after they were done with you, that kept you from screaming.

In a daze, you pushed the corpse off of you and looked down at your body. It was covered in blood, parts of a splattered brain, and white fragments that had been the skull of the leader of the group. His head had burst into pieces. No animal could have done that and no human either. There was no weapon on earth with that much destructive power, so what…

With slow eyes, you looked up from your soiled legs. The guy now lying dead next to you had been obscuring the view of a large creature standing no more than three meters across from you.

Whatever it was, it seemed livid. Its body was heaving with wrathful breaths and its long fingers were twitching, clenching into fists before relaxing them again. Its massive form was hidden by darkness and you could barely make out its silhouette.

It felt like an eternity with you just staring at the creature and it (probably) staring right back. The other assaulters, two of whom had fallen to the ground in shock with the sudden attack on their leader, hadn't dared to move a muscle. Maybe they were in a trance just as you were, not for the same reason, of course.

"H-Hey!" The fourth guy squeaked, breaking the tension that seemed to suffocate the whole alley. "Wha-"

In a practiced, seemingly effortless movement, the creature whipped out its arm, and something silvery shot out of the darkness. It wrapped around the throat of the man, choking him and sending him to his knees. He was clawing his neck and tried to remove what seemed to be a whip made out of sleek silver and grey material.

You watched him as he desperately tried to free himself and blood started to flow from where the whip was wrapped around his neck down to his shirt, turning the light blue fabric deep red. Your eyes then traveled along the bladed chain, you now noticed, to the other end of it, and found the large creature moving towards you.

If you would have been able to make a sound, you would have, but you were still too out of it that no noise escaped your bloody lips when you were finally able to distinguish your savior.

It was indeed huge, a massive body that was dwarfing any human being you could think of. Its appearance was bizarre. Its feet and calves up to its knees were in unusual boots made out of metal instead of leather with an interesting design. You wondered if it was the skin of the creature or if it was wearing a net-like cloth that was visible on every body part that wasn't hidden beneath armor like the chest plate that bled over into a full sleeve of its arm. It was covering the left side of its chest but not enough to conceal a rather fit upper body. You found yourself staring a lot longer at the well-defined, almost sculpted abs of it. It was no doubt a male.

As you were eyeing the creature up, he yanked on the whip. You were only aware of a dull thud when the bladed chain cut off the head of the man who had been in its hold.

You didn't register when more blood sprinkled on you as you were too busy trying to imagine a face underneath that strange mask. With his green, brownish, and beige reptilian skin, the long black tendrils sprouting from the head, the long claws, and the animalistic posture, he was, without a doubt, not human.

An arm wrapping around your throat from behind, preventing you from breathing evenly, brought you back to reality. You immediately put up a fight, scratching it and pulling on the arm in hopes he would let go.

It was one of the attackers that had fallen to the ground when the creature had appeared. He must have scrambled over to you when his last companion was foolishly enough to run up to the murderous beast, trying to do something quite laughable, only to be impaled by a spear and was now hanging on the wall to the right like he was a portrait above a chimney, the spear rammed through the brick of the apartment building.

The idiot behind you thought the creature would let him go if he was holding you hostage as if he wasn't going to kill the both of you just like his buddies. So foolish, you internally sighed.

"S-S-Stop! I'm warning you!" He screamed at the towering figure which was closing in on you. "I will… I will kill her!"

The creature stopped a few steps away from you and reached behind his back. Quicker than your eyes could keep up, his hand shot forward and he threw something of the size of an orange at the man.

Yelling, the man loosened his grip, his instincts kicking in to fight against whatever was sticking to his forehead. In his struggle, he fell on his back and started rolling around on the floor when the little device made a strange wiring noise. His body went stock still when he was engulfed in a net, restraining him. Then the man screamed bloody murder when the wiring noise grew louder and the device pulled the net tighter around him.

You turned to him, only to see the strings cutting into his skin, drawing blood, until only pieces of his body were left of him, leaving him unidentifiable to whoever would find him and his friends.

Now, it was only you in that alley. You, the beast that saved you and the bloody massacre, turning the place into an image of horror.

You were going to get sick if you stared at what had been a living and breathing human once any longer. Rather than wanting to face the creature when it was going to kill you, you turned back around and then startled back. Said beast was crouching in front of you, the head cocked to the side.

He reached out a clawed hand and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever gruesome death he had planned for you. You thought back to everything you had achieved in your life, every person that was still dear to you, said goodbye to every place you loved to visit, to the movie you had wanted to watch in a week with a friend, to the unread book on your bedside table and every dream you had wanted fulfill — you had actually planned to do that in a few hours. At least he was going to give you a quick death and not whatever the authorities had done to your father.

Something poked your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a closer view of the strange mask covering the creature's face. His hand was outstretched and a finger was prodding your skin. A strange noise was coming from behind the mask, something you could only describe as a rumbling purr.

You stayed still, afraid if you would only move a muscle, it would set the creature off and let him drag his clawed finger up to your temple where a trail of blood had started to run from the wound you got from the fall. You hissed in pain when the pad of his thumb stroked — probably unintentionally hard — over your lower lip, the rough skin touching where it was busted. He pulled its thumb away only to replace it with the back of his pointer and middle finger to caress your jaw and down to your throat. The touch caused you to swallow which he most likely could feel. Only when you felt the scaly sensation on your skin dip too deep, too far beneath the ripped remains of your blouse, you gripped his wrist.

The creature's head snapped up where it had followed his exploration. You flinched back at the sudden movement and quickly loosened your hold on his wrist, pulling it away like you had burnt yourself.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, your voice hoarse.

What if you had just signed your death? What if you touching him like that had triggered him? What if he thought you were a threat now? What if he thought of it as highly offensive? What if he was going to kill you now? What if-

A low thump caused you to flinch when he hit the left side of his chest with his right fist. With parted lips, you looked from his fist up to his masked face and then back again, confused, both at the gesture and the lack of aggression towards you. Almost as if he could understand the look on your face, he repeated the action with a little more determination after he inched closer to you. You were more focused on his sudden closeness, daring not to move back, but you hastily turned your gaze down to his fist. It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was trying to tell you after the vast change of demeanor — from murdering in cold blood to trying to… communicate with you?

"You?" You tried hesitantly.

It really was your best guess on what he could mean.

A soft growl reached your ears from underneath his mask, making you tense up but relaxed in relief the second his attention turned to his forearm. You watched in curiosity as his clawed pointer finger ghosted over the armor-like wristband that started flashing in a bright red and made strange beeping noises like when a caller on the other line hung up before you could. Your mouth opened without you even noticing. You had never seen something like it, probably no one ever had. How was it functioning without cables like your telephone and radio did?

"Are you telling me you are married?"

You jumped back a little when a male voice chimed from his wristband.

"To a cup of tea, I will never say no."

"I can't believe you put the jar in the oven!"

You looked at him in astonishment as more voices sounded from his forearm. Human voices.

He kept repeating the same three sentences, but they seemed to get shorter with every replay.

“-telling me you are… telling me… me.”

"-a cup of tea… tea."

“-you put the jar in the… you put the jar… the jar… jar.”

He seemed to be satisfied as he let out a deep, low-pitched chirp before he played the cut and put together word snippets to you, his head facing you now.

“Me-tea-jar.” He hit his chest once again before playing the word again. “Me-tea-jar.”

"Meetja?" You tried the word, tried how it felt on your tongue.

He let out a deep grumble before he played the same word again and leaned even closer to you.

“Me-tea-jar.”

"M-Meetiar. Mi'ytiar."

With his head slightly cocked to the side, he tilted it forward in a one-movement nod as if to say, "Now you got it." and his fist hit his chest one last time.

"You. Mi'ytiar. T-That's your name?" You asked and hoped you put the puzzle pieces together correctly.

Another nod before he pointed at you.

"Oh." You softly said, shifted your hips slightly, and nervously placed a hand on your own chest. “(Y/N). I'm (Y/N)."

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounded from his forearm when he touched his wristband. “(Y/N).”

You couldn't help the small smile and you nodded. "Yes. (Y/N)."

The creature — Mi'ytiar — lowly grumbled in appreciation and you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs with a laugh. You couldn't believe you talked, more or less, to something that undoubtedly didn't belong on earth while you were surrounded by death after being spared from something that would have scarred you for life just because you had been out drinking to have one last night in freedom until you would follow your father in an early grave. Your life really had taken a strange turn in just a few hours.

"What are you?" You asked him and tilted your head to the side.

"Hunter." He communicated with the help of his wristband.

"Where do you come from?"

"Sky."

"Sky." You repeated the child's voice and looked up.

So he came from the sky. You wondered if he meant the clouds or maybe the moon. It could be the stars for all you knew. Was he the only one living there, or were there more? Maybe one like him lived on each star the night sky had to offer.

As you were looking up in thought, Mi'ytiar took his time to admire you. You were, what you humans would use, adorable. He didn't hunt humans very often as they weren't much of a challenge, but sometimes he would visit earth out of curiosity. Your kind was interesting and his ancestors had been quite fond of them when they used them to breed their prey centuries ago. Humans have continuously developed from then to now, so it was fascinating to watch.

Like he watched you now. He admired your wide eyes, the curve of your nose, and your rosy cheeks that displayed the dried tear streaks of panic and fear. He admired the shape of your lips and the cut that had caused you pain when he touched it. He admired your shiny hair that had once been pulled up in a neat bun but was now hanging loosely and messily around your face, framing it like it was a piece of art. He admired your small, shaking hands that were desperately holding the ripped-open blouse together, protecting your modesty and the naked skin of your trembling shoulders when the fabric had slipped down to your biceps. You had been so incredibly warm and soft when he had touched what you were hiding now.

A quiet hiss got you to look back at him and you watched with uncertainty as his fingers first pulled on the one tube that was connected to his mask and then the other before he removed it anxiously slow. You mentally prepared yourself for the most horrific sight of your life, but when the top half of his face was laid bare, you sucked in a breath. It wasn't the foreign shape of his head, the texture of his skin, or the spiky triangle-shaped bumps that circled the sides and the back of his head like a crown, clearly dividing where the roots of his hair ended and his face started. It was his eyes, though an abnormal orange, that was salient and captivating you. They didn't look like what your wildest fantasies had to offer, but they somewhat seemed almost human — a black pupil surrounded by an orange iris. And not just any orange. It was the kind of orange that stretched across the sky at every sunrise and sunset. The only difference you spotted from your own eyes was that he had a black sclera instead of a white one.

You would have gotten lost in them if he hadn't removed the mask fully, so his lower face was showing too. You wouldn't exactly describe it as terrifying, but the sight of his mouth was, to say it simply, unnerving. It was hidden behind four tusks that represented his mandibles. You were fascinated when he suddenly made a clicking noise but were taken aback when he extended the fleshy texture to reveal two rows of teeth. It was like he had two jaws, one when the mandibles were retracted to his face and one when they were extended and showed his actual mouth. His upper jaw held three teeth with two larger fangs on each side, his lower jaw held the same amount only were they a little thinner, so his fangs wouldn't hinder his mouth from closing.

Even after the initial shock subsided, you wouldn't exactly use the word pretty, but there was something about him. Thrilling and particular, astounding and intriguing, but also alluring.

The longer you looked at him, at Mi'ytiar, the more accustomed you got to his appearance.

Another clicking sound reached your ears and you stopped mapping his features with your eyes, only now realizing how he looked down at you with his head tilted to the side. When you mumbled his name, almost as if it took all your courage, he straightened up and his eyes snapped to your hand that had loosened its grip on your blouse. He followed its movement, getting closer to his face, and when you turned your hand so your palm was facing him, his own hand reacted fast and grabbed your delicate wrist.

Bad idea, real bad idea, you thought. He wasn't exactly hurting you, but his grip wasn't exactly soft.

Instead of tugging against his hold in an attempt to free yourself that would obliviously fail, you let your arm go slack. Instead of panicking, you remained calm. Instead of screaming at him to let you go, you kept your mouth shut and waited for his next move. If you triggered him in any way, he would surely kill you.

Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, was amazed by you and in awe. He wouldn't be the first Yautja to be enthralled with a human in this kind of way, sure, but he hadn't expected to be one of them one day. You were extraordinary in the way you looked at him, didn't mind the proximity he had put you in, and apparently seemed to seek for it.

Contrary to what you believed, he pulled your hand closer to his face by the wrist, causing you to move from your side-sit on the floor to get on your knees. Your lips parted in surprise when he pulled his mandibles in and he himself brought your hand up to his cheek.

The sensation underneath your touch was unusual and new. His cheek wasn't like that of a human when you would press the fat until you could feel the jaw bone. It was springy, considering it was only a fleshy layer that covered his mouth. You moved your hand down to his outer jaw, which consisted of his mandible, and followed its length with your palm. You could feel the firm muscle and bone and gave it a gentle, experimental squeeze. Almost automatically, he made a soft purring noise like that one of a cat and you blushed at the possibility that he was enjoying the caress.

You, of course, had no idea that you were touching a highly sensitive part of his anatomy and would be alive to tell the tale afterward.

Just as you were curious about him, he was eager to explore you as well. Carefully, he reached out and through the ripped-open front of your blouse. Seconds later, his palm made contact with your stomach and he could feel how you tensed up. He looked up into your eyes, but when he found nothing that indicated that you despised his touch, his hand ran along to your waist and down to your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your belly. It was strange how you could feel his thumb near your navel and, at the same time, his other fingers on your lower back, taking the width of your hip like it was nothing.

The both of you were too busy in your explorations that you had grown ignorant to your surroundings, so when a scream filled the previously quiet alley, you grabbed his extended arm, not to push it away but to hold onto it in panic, while Mi'ytiar whirled his head around to the two outlines standing near the street at the end of the alley. Your body was hidden by his massive one, so it looked like a monster was kneeling among his freshly killed victims, basking in the glory of his crime.

Mi'ytiar's mandibles flared and the guttural roar that left his lungs made you cling to him in fear. Not of him, but the consequences that you would have to face if those who had stumbled upon this scene without context would call for the patrolling soldiers. You heard more screams and hastily retreating footsteps as the couple ran as if their lives depended on it.

Large hands grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, and you had barely time to hold onto him before he started climbing up the metal scaffolding of the balconies of the apartment building, jumping up and landing on the roof. With an arm secure around your waist, he jumped and ran further and further away.

And you let him.

2024, Yautja Prime

"What you smiling for?"

And all of a sudden, those purred words were taking you from your past life to your current one. You hadn't even noticed you had stopped drawing random figures and forms on Mi'tyiar's naked chest. At some point, you had started daydreaming with that far-away look in your eyes and a smile slowly making its way on your lips as you were lying on him, between his legs.

"Just thought of the night we met." You drawled lazily and rubbed your cheek against his reptilian-like skin. "My hero in shining alien amour."

"My amour does not shine."

Now you had to laugh. Sometimes, you couldn't help yourself when he was so bluntly clueless. Humans and their analogies were oh-so confusing.

"It's a human saying, my love." You explained as you crossed your arms on his wide chest and rested your chin on them. "A male who saves a female from danger. A male who would sacrifice himself so the female can get away without harm."

Mi'ytiar reached towards your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek before he dragged it over your lower lip. You were dreamingly looking up at him, basking in his loving touch. You were placing your hand on his and turned your head to the side so you could pepper his palm with light kisses.

He couldn't help his body's reaction, he just couldn't. He was starved of your touch.

You suddenly stopped your sweet kisses when you felt something big poking your stomach. You looked down, although you could only see how your breasts were pressed against him, before you looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You are insatiable." You smirked and hoisted yourself up after placing one last kiss between his pecs.

You straddled his midriff but left enough space between you and him so you could reach underneath your body and grab his semi-hard cock. Even at this size, you had a little trouble fully embracing it and getting your fingertips to touch.

You hissed when you felt the familiar sting of his sharp mandibles and teeth digging into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and offered him more access. Mi'ytiar let out a feral growl when your blood finally hit his tongue. He relished in it, tasting so sweet, just like the rest of you.

Grasping your hips with both of his hands, his claws scratching your delicate skin, he pushed them down to his crotch.

He needed you again, needed to be so deep inside you, so he could see the bulge of his cock forming in your tummy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap up, barely missing your entrance and dragging his cock through your sopping wet folds that were covered with your combined releases from your last mating moments ago. It elicited a whiny moan and a wiggle of your hips.

"Stop teasing, tanhì. Put it in." You groaned and started rubbing yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, coating it with your mixed cum that was still leaking from your hole.

Mi'ytiar wrapped a large arm around you and started to get up, his other arm supporting himself to manhandle you on your back to be on top. The second your hazy mind registered what he was doing, you placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back down. You preened when his body immediately went slack, allowing you to do as you pleased with him.

He was staring up at you with flashing eyes. You didn't take the lead very often, preferring it to be dominated by your mate, but when you did, he was gladly giving you the power you wanted.

The first time you had tried to be on top, it had gone from steamy to ugly pretty quickly. You had been on your back when you tried to push him and switch your position, but since he had been unmovable like a rock, you had untangled yourself from him and told him to lie back. You were straddling his hips, humping his hardening cock for exactly thirty seconds before he flipped you over and on your back again. You had then mewled and tried to push him back once more, causing him to growl. For your attitude, he bit roughly into your throat, hoping it would keep you submissive. You let out a cry and hit his chest with both of your fists. This time, Mi'ytiar showed you his displeasure more vocally when he slammed his flat hands next to both sides of your head and roared right into your face. Safe to say, it scared the living daylights out of you and caused you to escape his caging arms. He, of course, followed you quickly and tried to amend his outburst with purrs and snuggles rather than words.

The next time you were on top, he vehemently focused on staying seated on the edge of your nest with you on his lap as you rode him with his helping hands on your hips. His eyes strayed from the spot where his cock was disappearing inside of you, to the bulge in your stomach that grew and shrunk with every movement, to your bouncing breasts, to your pleasure-contorted face.

After that, he couldn't get enough of you being on top.

The same was the case now as you slowly inserted his throbbing cock into your-

A wail broke the sensual atmosphere, causing the both of you to jerk your heads to the doorway connecting the room to the rest of your home. With your maternal instincts kicking in, you practically jumped up from your mate, his half-inside cock slipping from your tight heat, and ran to the room where the sound was coming from.

Mi'ytiar slumped back with a displeased grunt. He loved his pup dearly, truly he did, but he hadn't been able to mate with you for an eternity — five months, double the time the healer had advised you to keep from being intimate with each other after the pregnancy because a certain someone had been overly cautious with you — and his cock throbbed painfully at that sorrowful thought.

He got up from the nest and followed the direction you had run off to. Your five-month-old pup was sleeping alone in his room for only a short part of his life. Before that, his crib had been standing next to the nest in your room, quickly accessible and in reach should he need any sort of attention. Now, he was sleeping in his big brother's former nursery, which you had lovingly prepared when you had been pregnant with Akail, your first pup.

Mi'ytiar watched you standing in front of the crib in the middle of the room, your back to him, as you rocked the whiny pup in your arms. The wholesome thoughts of his beautiful mate taking such good care of his youngling quickly turned into an animalistic need to breed you once more when his eyes trailed over your curves that had gotten bigger after bearing his second son. They fixed on your legs where trails of semen were running down your skin from between your inner thighs.

He was faster by your side than you would expect from a being of his size. He pressed his bare body against your own, hands on your hips pulling you closer, his cock digging into your back. Mi'ytiar bent down to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, purring lowly.

"He was just hungry." You whispered as you watched your pup falling back to sleep.

Bending over, you placed your little one back into his crib, careful not to disturb him. You had to bite your lip when you felt Mi'ytiar pull you back against his crotch to rub himself against your ass. All you needed to do was push your ass back into him for him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and turn to leave your son's nursery.

Giggling, you looked back to the pup's crib and whispered, "Dream of the stars, my little Toyah." before you got carried back to your nest.

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#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #fanfic

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penkura · 1 month ago

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Hello this is my first request for your page so if it's alright can you do "everyone knows" from the Sanji fic but make it Ace instead? Thank you!

Hi omg, I'm so sorry this has taken so long, I had to take my time because I kept getting ideas on how to do this one, and it's finally done for you!! I really hope you'll enjoy how it turned out, I love Ace and want to write even more for him, he deserves it. 💚

This is an AU; Sabo, Luffy, and Ace are in constant contact, and no Marineford issues (despite it being my favorite arc). 😌 Please enjoy everyone! (its also 7.1k words i'm so sorry)

“I told you to be careful, you know.”

“I know that, Marco. You’re not helping!”

The whine you give while Marco pats your head makes him laugh at the same time, repeating what he’s just told you as you sink further into the chair in his office. You can’t believe you let this happen, that he was right to tell you and Ace be careful when you started dating. Neither of you really understood what he meant back then, but you sure do now.

“You’re definitely pregnant. Looks like…about seven weeks, almost eight,” Marco smiles to himself when you whine again, face hidden in your hands, “I don’t see anything to be worried about, you both look completely healthy so far.”

You’re screwed, you just know it. It’s only been a few months, you and Ace haven’t even had a chance to discuss marriage or babies or anything like that. You’ve just been dating and having fun with each other.

A little too much fun it seems, considering the—what should be--good news Marco’s given you today. It really should be good news, the whole crew has waited so long for you and Ace to get together, hearing you’re pregnant would just excite every one of them.

You should be happy too, but there’s too many worries and fears taking over your mind at the moment to be excited and happy about having a baby with Ace. You two danced around your feelings for each other for so long, that no one would be surprised if you made this announcement. You’ll never know about the betting pools going on, everyone trying to figure out when you’ll either get married or have a child, and now it looks like the latter is going to net someone a decent amount of cash. (Its Marco who wins, don’t worry about it if he gets your baby something really nice.)

You bury your face in your hands, Marco just watches you at first, before sighing to himself. He’s watched you and Ace avoid the obvious feelings you had for each for years now, so when you confided to him that you were going to finally tell Ace, soon after the fire user said the same thing to him, Marco was happy for you both and your biggest supporter, he knew you guys would he happy together and he’s been right so far.

He's not at all surprised by your sudden pregnancy, you and Ace aren’t sneaky at all and he’s been expecting this for a while now. Your reaction though, tells him that you guys probably haven’t even discussed having kids or anything like that at all. It makes sense that you wouldn’t yet, it’s still early in your relationship, that helps explain your reaction. The way you have your face buried in your hands like you’re trying to hide from the world or wake up from what seems like a good but bad dream.

You probably do wish it was the flu now.

“Hey,” you peek between your fingers to see Marco crouched in front of you, one hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “You and Ace will be great parents. I know you guys didn’t plan this, but everything will be fine. I’ll make sure of that as your and this baby’s doctor.”

It almost makes you cry, though you stop yourself. You remove your hands from your face, still hanging your head when you speak up.

“…I’m scared Ace will be mad…”

“At you? Never in a million years,” Marco chuckles lightly while patting your knee, “He’d throw himself in the ocean before he got angry at you, especially since he had a part in this. Takes two to make a baby and you’re only one half of the equation.”

You know Marco is right, Ace would never get mad at you over something he had a hand in. While he may not be as excited when you tell him, you aren’t sure just what his reaction will be yet, but you know there’s no way he’ll be yelling at you like it’s your fault. Maybe Ace will be happy and excited, maybe he’s just never said he wants kids or hasn’t thought about it since you’re both still only twenty. It’s likely not in the front of his mind or something he’s thought about, you’ll have to try talking about it later with him, once you’ve settled down and worked out how to bring this up.

“…what if he doesn’t want this?”

“Do you want this?”

You stay quiet for a moment before nodding.

“I’ve…I’ve wanted to have my own family…ever since my parents and brothers died.”

“That’s all that matters then.”

You’ve been with the Whitebeard Pirates for so long, ever since you were twelve, but you still hadn’t told many of them about how you’d lost your family. The hurricane that swept through your home island and ruined countless lives while taking just as many, you were one of the lucky few to survive but at the cost of your parents and older brothers. You were beyond lucky when the Whitebeard Pirates showed up, you clung onto Pops like he was your savior and he just had to let you come along, you weren’t going to let go otherwise. Marco and Izo became your favorite people immediately, Thatch following soon after when he gave you a sweet to try. Everyone quickly accepted you as their new little sister, you hadn’t felt such felt love since you’d lost your family and don’t think you could ever leave them now.

Then when Ace joined you were instantly head over heels for him, it took him a bit before he felt the same for you but neither of you could ever view the other as a sibling like you did the rest of the crew, it didn’t feel right even when you first met. Good thing too otherwise this would be very awkward right now.

“All right,” Marco nods and goes back to a cabinet, digging through it, “We’ll keep this between you and me, we won’t tell Pops until you’ve told Ace. We’ll get with Thatch though so he can keep alcohol from you and start you on a meal plan to make sure you and the baby have everything you need. And I want you to start taking these pre-natal vitamins, okay?”

You nod when Marco hands you a bottle of vitamins, you’re still nervous and worried about how Ace will react, but you have some time to think. He’s off seeing Luffy right now with a stop by to visit Sabo planned, he’d told you yesterday over a call that it’d be another week or so before he gets back, you have time to get used to this and plan how to tell him.

Marco pats your head, giving you a smile when he sees you tighten your grip on the bottle.

“Everything will be okay, no matter what happens.”

“I know…thanks, Marco.”

“Anything for you. Now,” you return his smile and start to feel a little better about the whole situation, especially when Marco speaks again, “Let’s go do an ultrasound, hm?”

+!+

Marco keeps your first sonogram images in his office, away from others who might see and spoil the surprise before you even get to tell Ace your news. Thatch is the only other person who knows right now, he’s excited for you and has a meal plan ready by the end of the day you tell him, no one really questions it when you don’t have alcohol at dinner. You really only drank when Ace was around because he’d always get you back to his room safely, so no one questions it when you aren’t given any drinks apart from water at any meal.

Nothing really changes for now, apart from Marco wanting to check on you every few days to make sure everything still looks good and so far it does. None of your crewmates question this either, knowing you haven’t been feeling well and believing that Marco is just taking extra precautions and ensuring you haven’t caught anything severe. You promise anyone who asks that everything is okay and you’re fine, just getting over whatever illness made you sick.

You’re able to keep it all a little secret between you, Marco, and Thatch for the time being, and it continues to be that way even when Ace finally returns to you and the Moby Dick. You’re busy with Marco when he gets there, not for an appointment but to figure out what needs restocked on the ship, but Ace seeks you out once he’s finished talking to Whitebeard and others about Luffy and Sabo, running to you and shouting your name once he sees you.

It makes you anxious for a moment but so beyond happy to see him again. Once he gets to you, Ace scoops you up in his arms and hugs you so tight, you do the same and laugh while he tells you just how much he missed you. You think you probably missed him more, this was the first time he’d gone off to see his brothers since you started dating, it was rough even before you learned you were pregnant, you’re sure the hormones are what made the last week and a half even worse.

Ace drags you off to his room once he’s greeted everyone, you two need some time together and he’s desperate for it, you’re the one he thought about every day that he was gone and when he hears you were sick most of the time he was gone, his shoulders drop and he frowns. He hates that he wasn’t there to help you recover, but he’s glad you all have Marco around when any of you get sick or injured. The smile you have makes Ace feel better about it though, even when he noticed something there that he can’t quite place but it looks like anxiety or nervousness.

“You’re okay now though, yeah?”

“Mm-hm!” You nod, making Ace smile again as he wraps his arms around you, causing you to fall back on his bed with a laugh as he buries his face in your shirt, “Marco made sure of it, so you don’t have to worry about getting sick. I’m all yours today~”

“Good,” Ace barely notices you flinch a little when he presses his face into your stomach, but he thinks it’s probably that you’re not as fully recovered as you’re claiming, “As long as I can just lay here with you now~ I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Ace.”

You’re really glad he’s back, honestly. You were fine the first day Ace was gone but the next day you were more emotional and felt oddly lonely without him around, even with the others around. Ace has always been the brightest part of your days, even before you started dating he was the one who would find you first every morning just to greet you with a grin, making your stomach do flips for a while before you got used to it.

“Hey,” Ace looks up at you just enough to see your face while you run your fingers through his hair, giving you a sleepy smile, “What…do you think about having kids…?”

He's surprised by your question, but stays quiet for a minute, having to really think about it. Ace hasn’t ever thought it was a good idea for him to be a father, he’s never really thought that he’d be good at it or that he should even think about it, but he also knows about how much you want to have a child one day, to have your own family. The few times you two would talk about your pasts and your futures, while he’d told you who his real father was and you’d explained how you joined up with the Whitebeard Pirates, though Ace didn’t really have a plan for his future you always said how much you wanted to have kids of your own. He knows it mostly stems from having lost your biological family when you were younger, before you two ever met, and he respects your wants and desires.

But he’s just now sure about how he fits into that, if he wants that himself.

“I…don’t know…what about it?”

“I mean,” you shrug a bit as Ace starts to sit up, looking like he’s thinking but also concerned, hopefully he hasn’t figured you out from that one question, “It…could be fun right? To be parents one day…”

Ace doesn’t say anything, it makes you more nervous that you were about bringing it up, but you keep a smile on your face as you keep talking.

“Maybe one day, a little girl with your personality or a boy who looks just like you. I think I’d like that. We can raise them here with everyone, and your brothers—”

“I don’t think I want kids,” he doesn’t look at you when saying that, like he’s expecting you to end your relationship there since he knows your hopes for the future, but he’s hoping that’s not the case, “I just…I don’t want them to suffer because of me, or my past.”

“Ace, they wouldn’t—”

“Can we not talk about this now? I’m tired and I just want to spend time with you…”

Even though all you do is nod, it makes you feel sick that you can’t talk about this right now. You knows he’s tired, he needs to rest after having been gone and just getting back that day, but it still makes you more anxious than you already were. Ace lays next to you again, quiet himself, but he pulls you into a hug and kissed your forehead, hoping that he hasn’t upset you or anything. He really hasn’t, you kind of expected him to shut down any talk about having kids right now, it shouldn’t be in your minds yet but the fact you’re already pregnant has you thinking about it constantly. You were hoping to get this discussed and settled right away, but maybe you should’ve waited until he was back for a day or two, instead of the day he got back. Maybe of you gave him some time to relax before you brought it up, you wouldn’t be feeling like you’re about throw up right now.

Actually, you’re sure it’s morning sickness combined with the anxiety and worry now, your stomach isn’t calming down and you have to push Ace away to get out of his bed.

“I don’t feel good,” Ace tilts his head as you move to leave, confused and now worried you’re still sick, “I…feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hey,” Ace grabs your wrist when you try to run off, concern on his face when you don’t look at him, “Are you okay? You’re still sick?”

“Mm,” you nod before giving him a small smile, but it makes Ace even more concerned though he does let you go, “Just…gonna run to Marco, I’ll be back!”

“Okay then…”

Ace doesn’t follow you out of his room, just watching you go as you close the door. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on, but believes you when you say it’s because you still aren’t well. He knows Marco will take care of you and get you back to 100% in no time, though he wonders if what he said about maybe not wanting kids is the cause. He knows he might change his mind later on, maybe, but right now, he’s not confident that it’s something he wants. He doesn’t want anything like what happened with his own parents to happen to you and your child, it wouldn’t be fair to you or them if anything were to happen to him.

He knows it might become a make or break deal later on, but he hopes and prays he has time to really think about it and make a decision before you just end your relationship. But he also hopes you wouldn’t do that for this one thing, even if it means you have to make a compromise somewhere. Whatever that might be Ace isn’t sure, hopefully it’ll be years down the road before you have to make any kind of decision together about it.

For now, he’s going to unpack his bag while you’re gone, his whole focus being on you and getting some much needed alone time together had distracted him. He had to get somethings put away and a few gifts for you hidden for your birthday later on.

Especially the engagement ring Luffy and Sabo helped him pick out for you. He can’t let you see that quite yet.

You don’t go to Marco actually, you run for the nearest bathroom and try to keep quiet, you don’t want Ace to hear you and get more worried. He probably thinks you’re just getting Marco to help your stomach calm down and you’ll go back to him, but the whole situation has you upset even when you kept that from him.

He's not sure he wants kids, why should he be? You’ve heard his story, you know who his biological father was, you understand why he wouldn’t be sure about it. Ace knows your plans to have kids, to be a mother one day, and he’s always respected that, he’s told you he thinks you’ll be great at it. He’s never believed it should be with him, even though he’s not told you that, you wonder if he thinks he’s not good enough for that kind of life.

It makes you feel worse to think about that, to think he doesn’t believe he deserves to have a family one day.

Of course he’s not sure about having kids, why would he be? We’re only twenty and we’ve only been together a few months, damn it.

It makes sense to you, it does, but you really had thought that maybe you two starting a relationship would let Ace see you want that with him, no one else. Before you found out you were pregnant you thought maybe the two of you could adopt if something came up where Ace didn’t want biological children or you couldn’t have kids yourself.

But things have changed and you just have to hope that Ace will think about it more than he has.

You quickly wash your face and rinse your mouth several times before you leave and decide to check with Marco anyway, but end up running right into Izo before you get too far. The concerned look he gives you makes you nervous as you laugh and apologize for running into him.

“Hey, Izo, what’s u—”

“Are you pregnant?”

Your eyes widen just a bit, before you laugh nervously and wave your hands, trying to brush it off while he looks at you. He knows and you’re scared he’ll tell Ace, so you try to lie your way out.

“W-what?!” You score and glance away, it only makes him narrow his eyes at you, “No…who told you that?? That’s so ridiculous! I’m not—”

“Why are you still sick then? Marco said you should be well by now.”

“W-Well—”

“This all started while Ace was gone, yes?” You start to shrink away, leaning against the wall as Izo watches you start to let your walls about it down, sliding yourself to the floor, “You’ve been sick for weeks now if that’s the case.”

“It…it’s the flu, I’m not—"

“Its not the flu, its morning sickness, isn’t it?” Izo sighs to himself as you keep looking away, he can’t believe he didn’t notice it sooner, “Did you forget I was around when Lady Toki was pregnant and gave birth? I know it was a long time ago but I do remember such things!”

That had slipped your mind, Izo probably would have kept this secret for you too if you’d told him. You slightly nod, Izo isn’t shocked, he was one of the people betting you’d have a baby before getting married anyway, but he’s wondering more about how long you’ve known about this and starts to question you about your surprise pregnancy and if Ace knows yet. When you shake your head at that answer, he raises an eyebrow before a thought hits him and he nods.

“You found out while he was away then.”

“Yeah…I didn’t…I honestly thought I just had the flu or something.”

“I see. When—”

“Please, Izo, don’t tell anyone. I…I’m going to tell Ace in a few days, I swear, I just don’t want anyone else to know before he does…”

The pleading look you give him makes Izo sigh but with a light smile as he nods. He’d never take that away from you, allowing you to make your own decision on when and how to tell Ace about your pregnancy. It’s soon, probably sooner than you ever thought it would be, but he can already imagine you and Ace being amazing parents, how everyone is going to dote on your baby and help raise them. It’s been so long since there’s been a baby on board, he wonders if anyone remembers how to even care for a baby let alone hold one properly, but Izo also knows that once it’s out to everyone, Marco will start helping prepare everyone for this change.

“Everyone will be happy for you two.”

“…I’m just hoping Ace will be happy…”

“He will be,” before you can say anything else Izo takes your hand and helps you stand back up right, giving you a hug, “It may take him a bit, but I know Ace will be happy to have a child with you, even if he’s not sure about it yet. Everything will be fine.”

Part of you wishes people would stop saying that, but you’re also glad for all the reassurances from those who know. They’re more positive than you ever could have expected or asked for, they give you hope that Ace really will be excited when you tell him, despite what he said earlier about how unsure he is regarding having children.

Everything will be okay, even if it might be as while before everyone is settled and accepting. What’s more important is that you tell Ace soon and get his reaction, after that you can worry about what to do next.

Izo questions you a bit more after that, before letting you go back to Ace, he just wants to be completely up to date on everything and know how he can help. All you ask is again that he doesn’t tell anyone, that’s all you need right now.

You’ll tell Ace soon, then everyone else. You won’t keep it private too much longer.

+!+

A few days later at dinner, everyone is getting rowdy and drinking, celebrating your birthday and everyone making you laugh more than normal. It helps you forget about your worries regarding you’re pregnancy, you’ll ignore it for now and focus more on the smiles and pecks on the cheek Ace gives you every now and then, your attempted conversation forgotten about for the time being. Ace told you he’d think more about it, and you said you wouldn’t push him or anything like that. The compromise is enough for now for both of you, even with your secret, you aren’t going to worry too much right now, not until you’re ready to tell him.

Tonight you aren’t going to think about it, you’re focused on your family celebrating you, everyone so happy to still have you around and giving you the gifts they carefully picked for you. Ace said he’ll give his gift to you later, some people end up taking it the wrong way and give whistles and shouts, making you roll your eyes as your face heats up. It makes Ace laugh before he plants a kiss on your cheek again, promising it’s something better than what everyone else thinks.

When Thatch comes by with drinks, he makes sure once again to keep alcohol away from you, passing you a water that you accept gratefully and it makes Ace furrow his brow.

“You’re not drinking again?”

You shake your head, giving a smile.

“Not today, I want to remember everything.”

“One drink wont knock you down, you can handle it!”

“I--no, I’m okay, Ace, really!”

No one says anything about it, instead staying deep in their own conversations. Ace doesn’t understand why you’ve been abstaining so much lately, every time he tries to get you to drink you reject it, it makes him wonder if something happened while he was gone that made you stop entirely. You haven’t told him anything, neither has Marco or anyone else, maybe you’ve just decided to cut back heavily for some other reason.

Ace lets it go for a bit, before he gets another drink and tries once more to get you to take just a sip from his cup. He questions you again when you shake your head, but before you can say anything, you hear Teech laugh and make a suggestion that makes you freeze up.

“Ha, maybe she’s pregnant!”

It makes Ace rolls his eyes, not noticing that you’re anxiously looking at him, like you expect him to know just from that.

“No she’s not, shut up.”

“I’m just saying it’s possible,” Teech takes a drink, while you pray he doesn’t say anything more or Ace just doesn’t take anything he says to heart, “We’ve all seen her sneaking out of your room most nights anyway!”

It's starting to get to you, you never cared if anyone else saw you slipping out of Ace’s room or the two of you leaving together in the mornings. No one ever said anything or made any comments, most of them did it out of respect for your privacy, though some did make suggestive faces towards you both early on, it’s all stopped over time. It’s quickly been replaced by everyone treating you both normally, the bets you don’t know about taking over private conversations for the time being.

Well, its stopped by everyone but Teech now. You’d usually be embarrassed by talk of your sex life but the comment about your still unrevealed pregnancy makes you upset, to the point you’re starting to get mad more than anything and glaring at Teech to try and make him stop talking before anything comes out too early.

“Shut up, Teech.”

“What? Everyone knows you and Ace have been going at it like—”

“I said, shut up!”

Everyone quiets as you yell, those who had been listening understand what exactly is going on but don’t say anything yet. Ace jumps when you slam your hands on the table and stand up, he’s never seen you set such an awful glare on someone like you are Teech right now, but it makes the wheels in his head start to turn and he starts piecing everything together. You never get this upset about some teasing, even if it’s a joking suggestion that you might be pregnant. Another crewmate made a joke about it early on, before you and Ace ever even slept together the first time, and it made you laugh, commenting back about how your parents were right, kissing boys made you pregnant.

But this time you’re visibly angry about it, it’s an obvious joke from Teech, he’s always been the one to make crude comments about sex and relationships, you and Ace have never been spared from this, especially when everyone figured out you started having sex. While some gave you two looks, Marco telling you to be careful (that worked out well), and Teech making comments you don’t dare repeat and have tried to wipe from your memory. Ace did everything he could to make it stop, you both thought it was over with when you hadn’t heard anything in the last couple months, but for some reason, your reaction to the suggestion of pregnancy has you mad, so Ace has to stop and think.

Teech tries to defend himself as Ace keeps thinking, everything starting to make more sense and fall into place in his mind. You being sick for so long, asking about having kids, not drinking with him, you pushed him off you the other night when he started handsy and said you weren’t in the mood, which he respected but now he’s realizing what it is that made you stop him.

“…are you pregnant?”

Ace is quiet when he asks, but it’s what gets you out of your anger, making you look back at him and he sees the tears starting to form in your eyes. Marco tries to step in, telling you to settle down because this isn’t good for you, getting worked up and stressed. You look so upset, while Ace is in shock and just staring at you, everyone around you two has completely quieted and looks between you two.

You can’t even bring yourself to speak, this isn’t how this was supposed to go, you weren’t ready to tell him yet! It was going to be a surprise when you did tell him, you had a plan, this isn’t fair!

“I…”

“Babe—”

“I’m sorry!”

You take off before Ace can say anything else, Marco calls for you but everyone else stays put. No one wants to be the first to say anything, they’re not sure if they should congratulate Ace or just keep their mouths shut, but eventually Marco sighs and sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

“Come with me.”

It takes Ace a moment before he can move, he knows he should’ve followed you out, he needs to know if you really are pregnant or if it’s just a suspicion you have, though the way Marco is acting tells him you have to be sure already. That’s probably why he wants to talk to him, Marco knows and is going to give Ace all the information he can, so he finally gives in and follows him out. Ace hates seeing you upset and crying, it’s not fair to you that this got out the way it did. He knows you, he’s sure you were planning something cute to do for your announcement, but now it’s all been ruined.

Ace feels sick, he’s upset for you, but he really needs to know how real this is, it could still be a misunderstanding. He’s pretty sure it’s not after the scene that just unfolded, but there’s still a part of him that thinks it might be as he follows Marco.

Once Ace and Marco leave, everyone lets out the breath they were holding before looking at Teech with glares. While some had their suspicions from how you’ve been acting, others had accidentally overheard you talking to Marco or Thatch about it, not one of them wanted to say anything. It wasn’t their place and they all knew you’d eventually say something when you were ready, or Ace would blurt it out at some point, they weren’t sure about how it would go.

All they knew was that it was now out there due to Teech and no one was happy about it.

“…I didn’t think she was actually pregnant.”

There’s several sighs and groans, while Izo and Thatch give the glares they could to Teech, causing him to shrink away just a bit for ruining your plans with his big mouth.

“Shut up, Teech.”

+!+

“She’ll be ten weeks along in a few days.”

“I can’t believe this…”

The sonogram image in his hands just makes Ace anxious yet excited, what he can’t believe is that it’s your baby he’s looking at, his baby on top of that. His heart is racing over this despite the sick feeling he has, this explains why you had asked him about having kids, why you’ve still had, what seemed to be, random bouts of sickness still, even though Marco had said you should be totally fine now.

But now it all makes sense. You haven’t been sick with the flu, you’re pregnant and it’s morning sickness that’s been getting to you so often. That’s why you rejected every time Ace tried to get you to drink, it’s why you didn’t want to do anything the other night, why you ran off the other day after you tried to ask about having kids.

He feels terrible that your secret got out, that you didn’t get the chance to tell him yourself, but looking at the sonogram he feels so excited.

“Do we know what—”

“Too early to tell the sex, in a few weeks we can do a blood test to see and then another sonogram later to confirm,” Marco smiles seeing Ace nod, it seems like he’s still coming to terms with this but he doesn’t look too upset, “She’s been worried about telling you, thought you were gonna get mad at her.”

“I’d never do that!”

“That’s what I said, but with this situation she wasn’t thinking straight.”

Hearing that makes Ace feel bad, you shouldn’t be that scared about telling him, he’s never yelled at you about anything. It’s not his personality and he hates the idea of hurting you that way, you two have always talked through any issues you’ve had and come to compromises or agreements, like you did recently with the whole having kids thing.

Oh.

Oh that explains why you ran off after asking and he said he didn’t want kids. You were scared and it made you sick, Ace realizes that makes so much more sense now. He should’ve tried to explain it better, that he wasn’t sure about having kids, not just that he flat out doesn’t want them. If you’d been able to talk about that sooner, maybe you would’ve been a little more careful not having to worry about this now.

“Ace, you know she’s wanted this forever now.”

Ace nods, still staring at the sonogram image. There’s so much you two have to discuss now, he needs to make sure you’re okay and that you know he’s not going anywhere. Even if he hadn’t planned to ask you to marry him, he’d still stick around hearing that you’re pregnant. He may not be sure of how good he’ll do as a dad, but if this is what you want, what you’ve always wanted, he’s going to stay with you and help you through everything. Nothing would change that, he really hopes you understand that already.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but—”

“I gotta go talk to her,” Ace stands up quickly and hands the sonogram back to Marco, “I gotta make sure [Y/N]’s okay and tell her I can’t wait for this.”

“Really? You’re okay with it?”

“Yeah, I…” sighing, Ace smiles a bit while Marco watches him, “I’m scared as hell I’m gonna screw up, but I think…I think we’ll be okay.”

“You’re not gonna screw up,” Marco laughs and pats his shoulder, “You guys have all of us here, we’ll make sure your kid doesn’t end up like you.”

“Hey—”

“You better go and talk to her, she’s been anxious about everything for almost two weeks now.”

“Yeah,” there’s a grin on his face as Ace nods once more, turning to leave, “I’ll take care of it, thanks Marco.”

+!+

Ace knows you ran off to his room to hide, even though its not the best place since again, it’s his room, but he’s not mad about it. You’ve always gone there when you were upset about something, this isn’t a surprise to him. You’ve mostly calmed down by the time he gets there, though you don’t look towards the door when you hear it open.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

Ace feels like his heart breaks when you sniffle, rubbing at your eyes and shrugging. He hates seeing you cry, always has, but he feels worse about it now than he ever has. You’re embarrassed and upset, you didn’t want someone else to blurt it out, he shouldn’t have tried getting you to drink as much as he did, maybe you could’ve told him later that night if he hadn’t. He feels like it’s all his fault this happened, though, he knows that it definitely is partly because of him that everything is going to change.

You’re pregnant, Ace really thought you guys were being careful and safe, but apparently not. Ace wonders if you didn’t tell him because you were scared or didn’t want to have a baby with him, maybe you thought he’d get mad at you and break up with you. He’d never do that but maybe you weren’t thinking straight after finding out, you got worried and let negative thoughts overtake your mind.

You should be happy and excited, not scared and worried, Ace realizes that. He starts to look around his room while you keep your eyes on the floor, expecting him to end your relationship or something like that.

“Ace—”

“We’re gonna have to find a place for a crib, huh?”

“…what?”

“Or, hm, what’s that other thing called?” Ace starts thinking, while you’re sitting there stunned and staring at him like he has two heads, “Oh…the bed for babies that sometimes looks all frilly and stuff…”

“A…a bassinet?”

“Yeah, that! We’re gonna have to move things around,” you give Ace a confused look as he starts trying to get an idea of how to rearrange the room, “Maybe…we can move the dresser to this other corner, our bed can go against this wall, and—”

“Wait stop, you…you’re okay with this?”

Ace gives you a grin, tilting his head.

“Should I not be?” he’s still grinning when he finally walks over, crouching in front of you and reaching a hand to your cheek, “A baby with the girl of my dreams…what could be better?”

“I…you said you didn’t—”

“I know, I know,” Ace nods with a small smile, he shouldn’t said something earlier but it was your birthday and he didn’t want to interrupt your day, “When you asked, I had already started thinking about it, but you just surprised me and I kind of…”

“Freaked out?”

“Ha, yeah, I guess so. It was like you could read my mind and I was worried you’d think it was too soon if I said yes.”

“Ace,” you roll your eyes a bit with a smile, “We had feelings for each other for how long before we got together?”

Ace laughs, nodding and knowing what you meant. It seems only natural that you two would skip a few steps and go right to having kids, you’ve known and loved each other long enough. What does it matter if you’re not married yet, who really cares?

He's still going to ask you to marry him, but right now, it’s not a major concern for either of you.

“Good point, but I was still worried. So…I kind of lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You’d never scare me off, Ace.”

He nods again, smiling as you start to relax more, your own smile showing and it makes Ace happy to see you’ve calmed down some. He knows you’re still worried and anxious, but he hopes he can help you realize that it’s okay, he’s not mad or going to leave you. He’s staying with you, he's going to help you raise your baby no matter what happens, he’s going to protect the two of you and keep you safe.

“If it’s a girl, I hope she’s just like her mom.”

The comment doesn’t fully register at first, but it makes you roll your eyes again.

“If it’s a boy he’s going to be just like you, which means I’m in trouble.”

“Trouble?? You sure about that??”

You don’t get to respond back before Ace, carefully, hugs you tight and knocks you back onto his bed, making you laugh as he kisses your face and holds you close. Once you’ve both settled down, his comment about you having a girl finally hits you, you look up at Ace with a smile.

“You’re happy?”

“Of course I am,” the grin he gives almost makes you cry, but Ace stops that with another kiss before laying his head against your stomach, “Can’t believe our baby’s in there…you’ll be a great mom.”

It gets you more choked up, you can’t help it but don’t want to cry too loud. You don’t want Ace to think he’s upset you, so you stroke his hair a bit, taking a few breaths to calm yourself down before you speak again.

“You’re gonna be a great dad, Ace.”

Ace doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he hugs you a little tighter and quietly says he’ll do his best for the both of you, pressing a kiss to your belly.

“I won’t let you down, I promise.”

Although everyone on board knows now, you’re sure those who heard have spread it to everyone that wasn’t around or listening by now, you’ve still got to let Whitebeard know later. You know he’s definitely going to be happy for you and Ace, just like everyone else has been so far.

Ace eventually sits up and gives you a grin that makes you tilt your head at him.

“I’ve got to call Luffy and Sabo! They’re going to be so surprised!”

While Ace hurries off the bed to get his transponder snail and call his brothers, you shake your head with a laugh before you follow after him. The excitement you hear from the two over the receiver makes you both happy and more excited than you already were. You may not have been planning this to happen for a while longer, but you’ve accepted that it’s going to happen and you can’t wait to see how Ace is as a father.

You know he’s going to do his best and he’ll do everything to keep you both safe and happy.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #request

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