#key hole surgery
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Hugs for trans men/mascs who can’t wear their binders now or ever. You’re still a man and ily.
*Bonus picture of a cis man looking hot and badass in a sports bra
#this is also for me#I bound for over a week straight which was dumb don’t do that and now I’m forcing myself to take a whole day off#I was wearing trans tape so it wasn’t as bad a binder but still#I really want key hole surgery soooo I can’t damage my chest#ftm#trans man#trans masc#boyblogging
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ok but this animatic is gonna be so good if i actually make it
#my post#now i just have to. draw it.#but like!! it goes through all 3 episodes right. it starts w ranboo opening his eyes and waking up in the cabin#he goes through the cooking show and when the audio distorts on the word ‘decimal’ the slime turns red!#then all the sneeg stuff and at ‘condemn him to the infirmary’ rnab walks through the door and gets snatched by rats! then its the key room#from ep 2. gets through thst quick and its the surgery room! when audio distorts on ‘trouble’ the slime turns red AGAIN! and then the#‘scattering sparks of thought energy’ bit is the 3rd room w all the people! ‘here in my kingdom-cower and pray’ is sneeg being mind wiped.#the crazy bit is when we go through all the other rooms and the ending of it is hitw. then rnab going through puzzlers office. the ‘sososo’#is rnab seeing the cameras and walking off set! ‘spiralling down thy majesty’ is when hes staring at the showfall logo! then hes following#hutchs instructions and then he finds charlie and drags him along on ‘i was just a boy you see’#and on ‘i plead of you have sympathy for me’ theyre running and ranboo hits the button on ‘me’. he turns and the camera spins with him. and#he gets kidnapped again. ‘see how the serfs work the ground’ is hutch. ‘see how they’ has the lights slowly coming up#‘see’ shows a few… employees? then ‘how’ is a bit more and ‘they’ a spotlight shines on rnab all crucified yknow. and ‘see how the brain#plays around’ is mr squiggles! ‘and you fall inside a hole you didnt see’ both. then the die/live vote pops up. it goes back and forth until#‘someone help me’ on ranboo struggling against the restraints. ‘understand’ on the red lights of the mask. ‘whats going on’ on the symbol on#the back. ‘inside my mind’ is the vote struggling around the 50/50 mark. ‘doctor i cant tell if im not me’ is a wider shot of ran and then#the box snaps shut and the screen fades to black.#but! but then! on ‘when it grows bright’ the same animation from the beginnibg plays!#ranboo wakes up in the cabin and looks around!#:) ‘when it grows bright the particles start to marvel having made it through the night#never they ponder whether electric calming if you look at it right’#yeah. abywahs i like this animatic so far
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can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!
mail-order bride
your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.
maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).
you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.
you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.
"hello?"
a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"
you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.
"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"
"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."
you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"
"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"
"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.
you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.
you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.
you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.
it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--
"'ello?"
"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"
"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"
"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"
"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"
"he's...b-but someone said surgery."
"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"
you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."
johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"
"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.
"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."
"mrs. riley?"
your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.
"you can see him now."
you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.
he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.
"tha' an angel?"
you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."
you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.
"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"
"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"
"shit happens."
you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.
"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"
"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.
"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."
simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.
"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.
"then don't."
he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.
"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.
family.
he has a family.
"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.
"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.
he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.
for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.
will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?
the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.
#oof angst#it betrays me#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎
warnings: Rafe and reader are messy, quick to forgive, filthy, f/f/m, f/f, f/m, bisexual reader, oral male receiving, tit job, spit kink, cum play, snowballing, name calling, pet names, unprotected p in v, breakup -> makeup, first time ‘I love you’s’, reader purposefully makes Rafe jealous, pathetic!rafe, mating press, reader slaps rafe
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 “𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 “𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰”.
✨𝐈𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 “𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬.” 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛. 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦����. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞…✨
lightly edited
a/n: sorry, babes. I've been so sick between stomach surgery and strep this took forever but I wanted to get it out before kinkmas. I hope it’s okay. Low key kinda bad but good smut imo 💕 Sorry in advance for spelling errors and plot holes 😭
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Reader's POV:
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ 。✧ ゚˖ flashback
You had completed your midterms, confident enough to feel like you aced it after studying. You went out with friends, Rafe, pulling his group along as well. It was a huge crowd: laughing, dancing, drinking, finally relaxing after a long week of studying, but cutting loose only made him tense up more, the outfit you wore fading his smile. The things that he couldn’t get enough of at the start just seemed to be a point of concern now.
Rafe’s big arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight like he was worried you’d slip away. He finally eased up after teasing from your friends, letting you go on the dancefloor reluctantly. Rafe’s eyes only left you to scan the crowd, making sure no one was eyeing you up. Rafe, resting bitch face, sat a little deeper, his strong arms crossed over his tight chest.
Of course, JJ took notice. Seizing the opportunity to fuck with Rafe in the simplest way possible. Merely saying, “Hey, pretty girl,” as he shuffled past the two of you, walking toward the bar to order another round, his baby blue eyes roaming your body before looking at his frat brother, greeting him smugly. The look you gave JJ could have burned a hole through that pretty boy's face; your little exchange made the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.
Rafe was done. The night was far from over. But, all his worries about coming out to this bar, with these people, with you dressed like this, were coming true. When you got in the cab, the accusations started flying.
“Dressin’ like that in front of these boys? Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? What the hell did you think was going to happen? Huh? Why the hell did he come over in the first place if you weren’t smilin’ at him or some shit? Did you notice the way he was lookin’ at you? Do you even fuckin’ care? No. Because you love it. Fuckin’ whore-” Your hand connected with his cheek fast and hard, sending the whole car silent.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think your talkin’ to, Rafe, but it ain’t me,” you hissed as you look up at the man before you, red-cheeked and glossy-eyed. “I wore this for you. I only care about you. If I didn’t care about you, do you think I’d be putting up with all this shit? Huh?”
“M’sorry, I called you that. Aight? But, you were doin’ just fine when you were drinkin’ with me. We were havin’ a good time-”
“Were we?” You lift your voice as he lies through his teeth. “You hated every second of that, Rafe.”
“Bullshit.”
“You held onto me like you were afraid I was gonna run away-”
”I just wanted to be with you. Okay? Your friends were pullin’ you away. Sorry for wanting to have a night out with my girlfriend-”
“You’re smothering me, Rafe.”
“Why is that a fuckin’ issue? You’re mad at me because I’m giving you attention. You’re mad because I care? You’re mad because I want you for myself. Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”
”Do you want me to feel bad for you, Rafe? Because I don’t. You knew who I was when you started dating me. I’m not some girl that’ll stand by you and look pretty. I won’t apologize for dressing like a woman and wanting to have some fun.”
“So you don’t have any fun with me. Is that what I’m hearing? Am I not giving you enough attention? You gotta dress like this and get it from someone else?”
“What?”
”’Cause if that’s what you were tryin’ to do, Princess. You succeed. M’sure JJ’s gonna be strokin’ his shit thinkin’ about you.”
“JJ?” You ask tiredly. “You think I dressed like this for Maybank? Are you kidding me?”
”M’Not.”
”5th and Main,” you call out to the driver. “Can you stop at 5th and Main first? Please?”
”Nah. Nah. Fuck that-”
”Fuck that? Fuck you,” you snap as your frustration bubbles over. “If you think I’m going back to the frat with you, you’re crazy.”
“I AM fuckin’ crazy. Jesus fuck. She’s not goin’ home,” Rafe shouts at you, then the driver.
“Pull over the car,” you level your voice.
“Don’t,” Rafe challenges him through the rearview mirror. The driver pulls over regardless, making Rafe let out a growl of frustration, pushing open the door before the vehicle can even roll to a complete stop.
You climb out of the car, two blocks away from your place, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist as you bound toward your place. Tears gather in your eyes, hazing your vision. You hear a step of big feet walking behind you, making your anger swell inside.
“Go away, Rafe.”
“You’re not walkin’ home alone. If you’re going to be a fuckin’ brat and not talk to me, I don’t give a fuck. If you think lettin’ you walk alone downtown on a Friday night, you’re fucking delusional.”
“Asshole,” you grumble.
“Ungratful fucking bitch. Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.
“Oh yeah, Rafe?” You call back as you turn on your heels, walking toward him fast, making his eyes double as he catches the outrage in your eyes. “Call me a fuckin’ bitch one more time and see what happens.” You step in, shoving him back, making him scoff and suck his teeth.
“‘See what happens?’” He laughs weakly. “‘See what happens, princess?’ You fuckin’ serious right now?” He asks as he looks down at you in irritation.
“Can only say that shit when I have my back turned, fuckin’ pussy.”
“You’re drunk,” he scoffs.
“I should be, Rafe! I should be drunk right now. I should be drinkin’ and dancin’ with you and my friends. I should be dragging you off the dancefloor because I can’t take my hands off you. I shouldn’t be fightin’ with you right now. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have someone who makes me feel secure. Your insecurity is bringin’ the both of us down.”
“I’m not insecure-”
”The fuck you aren’t,” you cut him off as you turn and walk away. “I need space.”
“Space? This isn’t high school. The fuck do you need space for? You either want me or you don’t.”
“I want you, Rafe. I don’t want whoever the fuck this is,” you sneer.
“You walk away from me, and we’re fuckin’ done. All right?”
“Done? So, a break isn’t an option. You can even let me have space; it's just one or the other.”
“If you liked me, sweetheart, that wouldn’t be a fuckin’ worry of yours. Hey, where the hell are you goin’?” He barks as you press toward your place. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Obviously.” You scoff before looking back, watching his beautiful blue eyes glisten under the streetlight— the man biting his cheek and flaring his nostrils to hold back his tears between controlled breaths.
“You’re such a bitch. You know that?” He asks, barely able to press the words past his quivering lips.
“Yeah, Rafe? A bitch you couldn’t handle. I’ve been me since the start… The only person that changed is you.”
Rafe lowers his head, nodding, accepting defeat for the moment, or maybe he’s planning his next dig. Either way, you were done. You turn around, walking toward your place, climbing the stairs before back at him. His eyes are still on you, making sure you’re safe before rubbing the tears of frustration out of his eyes and pulling out his phone.
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ 。✧ ゚˖ the blue flame…
“What should the caption be?” You ask with a devilish smile as you lay back on the couch, fingers hovering over your phone as Cali taps her chin, thinking of something that would piss Rafe off the most.
“Something simple. I don’t think it’s going to take a lot.” You laugh at her understatement of the century. Drumming your fingers, you play around with a few captions yourself as Cali workshops her own while dusting on some setting powder in the mirror. “Miss me?”
“Hmm… I mean, I want him to think I’m unbothered.”
“You are unbothered.”
“For sure,” you sigh.
”Umm… What about ‘she’s back and hotter than ever?’ I can send it to my account. You’ll look completely unbothered, which you are-“
“Completely,” you laugh as you let her do your dirty work.
“Sent,” she looks up at you with a smile.
“Ahh!” You squeal as you see the notification come in, and before you can even open the post to double-tap, he’s there…
Picture liked by: Rafe Cameron
You tilt into the mirror, the bright lights of the vanity casting a warm glow on your face as you slick on some shimmery gloss. You take out your perfume, spritzing on your signature scent. Turning to the side you check your reflection, seeing a very different woman than before, one you hadn’t seen in a while. Your curves are dressed in pink lace lingerie purchased by Rafe, a matching bubble gum-colored wig on your head, styled just right.
Cali breezes past; her energy, infectious. Deja vu sets in as she presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Old times, baby,” she sings as her eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Old times,” you coo as you give her a little turn in your Pleaser heels.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she hums. “You’re about to ruin that man’s life.” She gestures toward the stage, widening your eyes as you put two and two together.
“He’s here?” You ask, biting back an anxious smile.
“First one in the house, baby doll.” She struts toward you, pulling you in for a hug, grounding you in the moment as your thoughts race away. This isn’t just about dancing and games; it’s about reclaiming my space, my confidence, who I was before I met him too… “Let him know who he lost. Huh?” She looks back at you lovingly as she brushes your hair into place.
You walk toward the stage, heart thudding with excitement, wig bouncing with every leggy stride. Shit. You look through the slight gap in the curtain, seeing Rafe from afar. His eyes are locked on his phone as a girl dances before him, paying her no attention. He looks up, making your stomach fall as his eyes set on yours; he blinks a few times to ensure he’s seeing this just right as the music shifts.
Rafe swallows thickly, adjusting in his seat uneasily, looking around at his frat brothers to clock where their attention is paid. You step out onto the stage, feeling yourself in your element again. Avoiding his eye contact, you glance around the dim room, pulling attention from every corner as you approach the beat. Cheers and whistles fill the space—a familiar chorus of sounds that have you smiling through the pressure.
You can feel the burn of Rafe’s gaze, heavy and intense, but you choose to ignore it as you step toward the end of the stage; toward the pole—toward Rafe and his brothers.
Shifting to your knees, you crawl to his frat brother, watching from the corner of your eye as Rafe’s expressions changes. The tension between the two of you is thick. “Holy shit,” the other boy groans as you roll to your back, hands working up your body, toiling over the pink set that your ex bought you. You roll away, moving toward the pole, feeling the pull of Rafe still as you step away.
You grab the bar and flick your hair back to the beat drop, feeling the music pulse through you as you start to find your rhythm. “Y/n?” That same boy gossips to the boys next to him, the news spreading like wildfire a second later.
“Ain’t that your ex, Rafey?” You hear JJ chime in and feel your first sting of regret. “Just fuckin’ killin’ it. Aren’t you, princess?” He continues to needle as the rest of the boys pile on. Rafe’s brothers hoop and holler as he throws daggers at the group—his stare looking like it could fuckin’ kill.
And in that moment you can’t help but think back to the fight you had with Rafe, the one where he called ‘a fuckin’ whore’. The one where he questioned your loyalty to him, spouting off that you might be doing this all for the very boy who’s praising you now. That little ‘hey, pretty girl’ JJ said in passing just to grind his gears seemed ludicrous now. That slight sting of regret quickly soothed by the balm of pleasure.
Grabbing the pole, you spin around it with slight work, the spotlight shining as you danced. The crowd cheered louder and louder as the expression on Rafe’s face pulled darker and darker. His anger only fueling your performance.
“Take it all,” one of the boys cheers, tossing cash like rain. You turn around, smiling at the man on the opposite side of Rafe, thanking him with a look as you work lower and lower. The brunette moves forward, tucking a fifty-dollar bill in your bra strap with a smile. “For you, baby,” he hums in a smooth, inviting voice as the crowd roars. Rafe’s frat brother leans in closer, and so do you, lowering his voice slightly. “I’m reserving the champagne room, and I want you and only you. Alright?”
“What?” You ask with a curious tip of your head, playing innocent, but you heard him loud and clear.
“The champagne room. You and me,” he calls a little louder with a wicked smirk plastered on his lips. You smile at him, not agreeing or disagreeing, watching as Rafe pushes to his feet before your eyes can even turn to his— a mix of regret and helplessness as he shoves his way through the thick crowd toward the bar as your song closes out.
You crash down on the couch and pull out your phone, pounting your lip, half-expecting some message from Rafe. Nothing… You open Instagram, scanning Cali’s page, checking the post.
Rafe Cameron: My beautiful girl
Warmth floods through your body, butterflies swirling in your stomach. He could have sent a nasty DM telling you to take it down; he could have cursed out all the thirsty commenters, but he chose this route. My girl… Not at the moment, but your heart melted at his words.
“You saw it too?” Cali asks teasingly.
“Mhmm…” You admit, biting back your giddy smile.
“And, how does that make you feel, beautiful girl? Swooning?”
You chuckle and nod, feeling your cheeks burn from your smile. “A little.”
Before you can say anymore, the stage manager pops her head through the door. “Ladies, one of those boys reserved the champagne room. He specifically requested the both of you.” Your stomach turns, thinking about Rafe’s frat brother’s offer and the thought of him making good on his word.
The idea of dancing on the stage was one thing… Dancing privately? That would not happen. Not if I ever wanted to work things out with Rafe.
“Umm,” your friend hums uneasily from the other end of the room, picking up on the same thing.
“You two in or are you out? The guy who reserved the champagne room paid a lot to buy his brother out. He’s got it reserved until the bar close.” The anxiety you felt is snuffed out in an instant, a surge of happiness courses through you the next. Rafe. You nod excitedly as Cali rises on her heels as the night changes.
You take a deep breath, walking toward the Champagne Room, heart pounding with the bass. You look toward the stage, all of the boys long gone. Maybe they’re all in there? You step toward the curtain, hearing the glass clinking as a drink’s poured.
Cali grabs the curtain, pulling it back, drawing a wave of relief with it. You see your handsome ex sitting behind the table with three glasses of champagne drawn, thankful you only had to share him with Cali. You smile at him, watching the tension in his shoulders physically fall as he sees your expression, the man not knowing what to expect; the moment reminiscent of your first night together, how excited you were to climb into the hot tub with him.
“Hey, baby,” he grins, his voice deep and warm—eyes never leaving yours. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice. “This alright?” He asks, still giving you control of the situation, a genuine tone letting you know he was still giving you an out if this isn’t something you wanted to deal with. If you no longer wanted this… If you no longer wanted him.
“Mhmm,” you hum as you walk closer with Cali.
“I wanted to make sure you both felt comfortable,” he replies, glancing briefly at her before returning his focus to you. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured, especially since we’re… you know, figuring things out.”
“The entire night, Cameron?” Cali cuts in teasingly as she climbs on the table.
“Couldn’t take any risks,” Rafe sighs blissfully, watching you grab her hand to step on the table. The song changes overhead, filling the space around you.
Your heart pounds and you and Cali move in perfect harmony, bodies flowing and swaying to the music as if you’d never left. You catch his gaze again, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through your system. You can see the adoration in his eyes and the smile playing on his lips with every stolen glimpse.
He can't take his eyes off of you, that feeling that you lost coming back to you fast. You twirl and spin around the pole, catching your ex’s broad expression—a mixture of awe and lust. Rafe’s had more lap dances than he could count, but he’s never seen you like this.
As the song shifts, the beat transforms into something slower, the vibe in the room shifting to match the rhythm. You climb to your knees, crawling toward Rafe just as you did to his brother before. He smiles and shakes his head, leaning in as you draw nearer. The air between you, charged; tension thick, begging to be cut.
In one swift motion, he reaches for you, tugging you off the table and onto his lap, making you gasp as you settle into his embrace. The warmth of his body envelopes you, his rich cologne muddling your senses. “Princess. You’re killin’ me,” he groans, in a voice low and needy; his hold firm yet gently—the perfect cocktail.
“We just started, Rafey,” you whisper against his lips.
“Before we go any further, you gotta know how sorry I am, baby.”
“I know,” you whisper earnestly. “I know, Rafe.” You stare back into his pretty blue eyes, watching them shimmer under the neon club lights just like they had the week before when he was fighting back the tears like he is right now, but this time, he looks a little more hopeful. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?” You echo those exact words you said to him on the first night you were together, making him chuckle and smile, feeling it too.
“Whatever you want. I’m down.”
“Atta boy.”
His hands hold onto your waist, letting loose enough for you to turn, pressing your back against his broad chest and your heels firmly planted on the ground, not wanting to let go now that he has you close.
Rafe’s big hands rest against the fullness of your thighs, moving higher, playing with the hem of your panties before skimming your stomach, resting on your tits. You grab his wrists, lifting his hands, and he doesn’t fight you, knowing he’s getting away with murder already, given the situation. “What does the sign say, baby boy?” Cali asks mockingly. Rafe’s head falls back on the back of the booth as he lets out a sleazy laugh. Rafe follows your lead, tucking his hands under his thighs.
“No touchin’.”
“No touchin’, Cameron,” you smile. You roll your body into him as Cali steps down from the table. Your curves push into him, each grind and roll making him sweep for a breath. "Remember this, Daddy?" You whisper against his ear in a taunting hum, feeling as his heartbeat racing against your back.
He turns toward you, tucking himself in your neck, chuckling warmly, his voice fanning against your skin as you hook your hand around, clutching him for support, manicured nails scratching into his hair at the nape of his neck. “You feel how hard I am right now, doll? Been thinkin’ about this shit every night. ‘Course I remember.”
“Look at you bein’ a good boy,” Cali praises as Rafe keeps his hands to himself, his jaw clenched tight as he tries to keep himself in check.
“Tryin’ Cals…” He soughs as his eyes fall down your body, picturing you riding him just like this. “Fuck, baby. You looked amazing up there,” Rafe praises as you swivel your ass on top of him. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
“Our girl always looks good,” Cali coos as she hooks her finger under your chin, guiding your lips to hers. Cali leans in, her mouth barely grazing over yours, turning it into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just give me the word, and I’m out,” she smiles along your lips, her sultry voice gentle, for your ears only.
“Thank you, Cals,” you hum, watching Rafe shift closer, hoping you’ll invite him in too. You pull back slightly, glancing at Rafe, catching the heat in his stare. He swallows hard, every inch of him screaming with desire, muscles flexed to keep his hands at bay, fully lost in the moment. You look back at Cali, cocking your head slightly, nodding at Rafe, a secret conversation shared between the two of you.
"What are you two doing? Huh?" He asks through a breathy laugh, feigning innocence, but his dark, lust-hazed stare says the complete opposite.
"Just making sure you're comfortable," you smile as you cup his cheeks. Rafe melts into your touch as you lean in, the man humming as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Rafe chases your lips as you pull away; lashes fluttering open as your hands fall down his body. You pop each button open, feeling the moment's thrill intensify with each peek of tanned skin. "Look at you," you whisper desperately as you eye the man before you.
“So handsome,” Cali mumbles as she pushes your hair off your shoulder, kissing along your neck.
"More comfortable now," Rafe quips, reveling in your playful teasing. His broad, muscular chest rises and falls with his quick breathing.“Fuck… Ya’ll aren't doin’ this for everyone? Right?” He pants with a joking bite as his eyes follow you.
You roll your eyes and smile as you play with the hardware of Rafe’s belt as Cali toys with the clasps of your lingerie, peeling the lace off your skin before grabbing your tits. “Only for you.”You lower his zipper; Rafe quickly takes his cue, fighting his jeans off his thighs as he watches Cali’s hands and lips caress you. Rafe pulls his boxers down, fat cock painfully hard, smacking his toned stomach with an upward curve.
You reach for him, guiding him where to sit, pulling him to the edge of the seat. Wrapping your fingers around his long dick you stroke him nice and slow with your hands as Cali gathers your hair from behind, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, the sight making the big frat boy’s eyes roll back in his skull.
You swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, taking a few shallow, teasing bobs that has his abs flexing tight. You drag off his cock, leaving behind a wet mess, saliva strung from his red tip to your pillowy lips. “So beautiful. Fucking hell, sweetheart. More… Give it to me,” he groans drunkenly as you move even closer, resting his girthy dick between your breasts. Cali reaches around your body, pushing your plush tits around him, making him suck his bottom lip between his teeth.
His hooded eyes finally leave yours, falling down your perfect body, landing where his throbbing cock lay nestled between you. “Fuck me, Rafe.”
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe moans in reply; forearms and biceps flexing as he quickly pitches his hips upward, fucking himself with your tits. He moans like a fucking pornstar, panting and huffing as he uses your body like a toy.
Precum beads at the tip of his cock, rolling down the side before coating his length as he continues to stroke. You lay out your tongue for him, looking for a little more, and without being told, he smiles down at you devilishly, tilting in just enough to spit in your mouth. The wet drips off your tongue, falling between your breasts onto his cock. Cali jiggles your tits, playing a cruel game with him, making his thick thighs clench under your hold.
"Just killin’ me… C’mon," Rafe moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Gonna cum. Where do you want it, princess?”
“In our mouths,” you smile, making him let out your name through a shaky breath. The two of you move on either side of his trembling body, gliding your tongues up the side of his long, thick dick to the tip.
“Fuckkkk,” he curses and groans, releasing his arms from under his thighs to grip the back of the leather bench as your tongues swirl together, teasing the tip of his cock again and again until he’s cumming in spurts, the two of you catching his load on your lips and tongue continuing to kiss eachother as you wrap your fingers around his dick, coaxing out the last bit of his release.
Cali reaches over, pinching your cheeks, snowballing his cum into your mouth. Smiling at you as you swallow it all, cleaning off your pouty bottom lip with her thumb.
Rafe loses all control, reaching for you and pulling you toward his lips. Your mouths crash together, your heart fluttering with warmth at his softness and familiar taste that has shivers falling down your spine. With each swirl and flick of your tongue against his leaves, you feel like you could float away.
He slows his pace, wrapping his strong arm around your body, pulling you into him, his dewy skin clinging to yours. “Can we have a minute, Cals,” Rafe mumbles against your lips. Her heels click against the floor, already at the curtain, smiling delightedly for you and him, giving you a little wink before slipping out.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers just above the thump of the music, his deep voice laced with raw vulnerability. “I was… I don’t even have the right words for how stupid I was. My jealousy. I know it was out of control. I just… I was jealous, especially when I saw other guys looking at you. I was scared of losing you.”
“I never gave you a reason to worry, Rafe…”
“I know, princess. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t trust you or make you feel suffocated. I see now how unfair I was being. I was lettin’ my insecurity get the better of me. You were right, baby.” The regret is clear, painted all over his handsome face. His broad shoulders slump at the weight of his regret; his forehead tilts against yours. “Called you some awful shit too…”
“You did…”
“Please, forgive me,” he begs. “I just need you in my life. You make everything better. I’ll treat you right. Yeah? Just please.”
“I forgive you, baby-”
“Need you to say it,” he whispers. “Tell me you're my mine.”
“I’m your yours.”
“God, that sounds so fuckin’ good,” he drawls, his voice thick like honey. “You mean everything to me. I'm not perfect. Clearly… We both know that, but I’m not going to fuck up like I did. I promise. Okay? You mean too much to me.”
“Okay, baby,” you smile warmly as your forehead rests against his.
“You know, I love you.”
You brush your thumbs along his cheeks, relishing those sweet words he's never said before. "I love you too," you whisper back, trembling with excitement and emotion.
“Yeah?” He asks happily as he pulls you in a little closer, elated, somehow worried you wouldn’t say it back.
“Mhmm… I love you, baby,” you mumble against his lips.
“I love you, princess… So much. Holy shit,” he groans as he buries himself in your neck, hugging you tight. “Worst fuckin’ week of my life, baby—Missed you. Fuck, I missed you, pretty girl. N’shit… I forgot how filthy you are,” he teases as he kisses along your neck, tickling your sides, making you squirm away, but he’s just too strong.
“Rafe, stop,” you scold through a giggle. He pulls back, relaxing in the booth, beckoning you with his stare as he licks his perfect lips. “Maybe I am… But you fuckin’ love it,” you smile as you tilt closer with each word that falls from your tongue.
“I’m a slut for you. That shit’s clear, princess.”
“Crystal clear,” you whisper as your lips brush him gently. Rafe lifts his hand, flicking his wrist, catching the time on his watch.
“Got an hour left, pretty,” he smiles as his big hands move lower, playing with the hem of your panties. You rise on your heels, letting the man pull your lingerie over your curves. He kisses your skin, lingering as the pink lace falls around your ankles.
“I’m all yours,” you breathe as he pulls you back onto his lap.
You suck in a breath as he cups your wet pussy in his big hand before curling two fingers, easing them inside you slowly as your head falls back. "That's it… Just take it, baby,” he groans, working them in and out of you at the perfect pace.
You lean forward, wrapping your hands around his neck, panting into his warm neck as he curls his fingers inside you, rolling his big thumb on your clit. Your pussy squelches with each push of his hand, making him release a hungry moan. Rafe lifts you effortlessly, laying you on your back, burying himself between your thighs, lips locking on your puffy clit. Your hips buck, but he strong-arms you, pinning your hips in place, lapping at your cunt.
“Rafe… Please,” you whimper, teetering on the edge of ecstasy as he plunges his tongue in your greedy hole, throwing you over the edge. Your fingers twist into his carmel-colored strands, tugging as your pleasure releases, pulsing around his tongue as he brushes his fingers quickly; Rafe moaning into your pussy between breaths.
Your body melts into the booth, hips rocking into him as his tongue dances, kisses, and drags through your soaked folds. He lets out a raspy, satisfied chuckle as he crawls closer, jerking his cock in his big fist before pressing it against your glossy hole. You reach for a breath, tears of pleasure soaking your cheeks already, looking up at the man who has no intention to stop ‘til you properly fucked out.
You gasp as he thrusts into you roughly, knocking the breath out of your chest. “Finally, princess… Mpfhh. Fuckin’ missed this shit,” he croons as he hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, pressing his weight into you to see how deep he can get.
“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he drags his cock out before before thrusting deep again. Your clear heels clack with every snap of his hips; Rafe, hitting all the right spots, making you see stars.
“You like this shit, princess. Love bein’ stuffed full of me. Huh?”
“Yes. Yes, Fuck.” You whine as he punctuates your words with a rough thrust.
Rafe switches positions, grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand. He uses the other to clasp your chin, guiding your lips to his. His tongue slides along yours, hints of your arousal and his melting together, along with the sweetness of his lips, leaving you whimpering against his mouth. “Just pullin’ me in,” he grunts as your body swallows him up.
“Rafe… Fuck. Shit,” You whine as he snakes his other hand up, fingers interlocking with yours.
"Me too, princess," he whispers against your lips, toned hips speeding up, chasing his orgasm and yours.
Just like that, your body lets go, heels digging into the leather seat, hands squeezing Rafe’s tightly as your wet walls pulse around his thick length; Rafe fills you with white ropes of cum as he pushes his load deeper and deeper ‘til all that’s left is panting breathes and ‘I love you’s.’
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ 。✧ ゚˖
tags: @loserboysandlithium @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @watchmerora @babygorewhore @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo
#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron#rafe#outer banks#obx#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe x you#Rafe Cameron smut#r#frat bro rafe#frat rafe#frat!rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x reader smut
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"The 80-year-old communications engineer from Texas had saved for decades, driving around in an old car and buying clothes from thrift stores so he’d have enough money to enjoy his retirement years.
But as dementia robbed him of his reasoning abilities, he began making online political donations over and over again — eventually telling his son he believed he was part of a network of political operatives communicating with key Republican leaders.
In less than two years, the man became one of the country’s largest grassroots supporters of the Republican Party, ultimately giving away nearly half a million dollars to former President Donald Trump and other candidates. Now, the savings account he spent his whole life building is practically empty."
...
One 82-year-old woman, who wore pajamas with holes in them because she didn’t want to spend money on new ones, didn’t realize she had given Republicans more than $350,000 while living in a 1,000 square-foot Baltimore condo since 2020.
By the time a Taiwanese immigrant from California passed away from lung cancer this year at age 80, she had given away more than $180,000 to Trump’s campaign and a litany of other Republican candidates – writing letters to candidates apologizing for not getting donations to them on time because she was going into heart surgery. She had only $250 in her bank account when she died, leaving her family scrambling to cover the cost of her funeral.
And a 78-year-old, a widow who limited showers to save on her water bill and canceled her long-term care insurance, didn’t understand why the retirement savings her husband had left her was dwindling so quickly. After CNN reached out to her family, they learned that the woman gave more than $200,000 in donations to Democratic political groups and candidates.
...
Richard Benjamin, an 81-year-old from Arizona, believed he had been in personal communication with former president Trump through all the messages he was receiving.
At one point, he told his children the former president invited him to a luxurious reception at Mar-a-Lago. He had grown up on a farm and worried he would feel out of his element at such a fancy venue. But when he received what he described to his children as an invitation to be a VIP at a rally in Arizona, he was thrilled he would finally meet the former president himself. He started making travel plans and asking his sister-in-law if she would like to accompany him, since his wife had passed away in 2018.
Later, he told his son how angry he was that Donald Trump Jr. wouldn't call him back even though the former president’s son had sent Benjamin so many nice messages."
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neurosurgery resident max the night before he’s scheduled to fly solo for the first time (he’s gonna be performing an awake craniotomy i decided), he can’t sleep bc he’s so anxious about doing everything right, normally he would jerk off to fall asleep but he’s like what if i accidentally jerk off too hard and my wrist is sore tomorrow and i fuck up someone’s actual brain
i lost the plot completely after this but lfg
he texts daniel who is also a surgical resident (he’s in trauma surgery so it’s still a precise field but more bloody and hectic and nobody he operates on is ever awake during it at least) and is like this sucks i need rest but i can’t sleep and i can’t jerk off bc i might sprain my wrist and then it will cramp tomorrow and i will stab my forceps into someone’s good brain tissue and daniel is like jeez max how hard do you jerk off lol. max is like *pouts, kicks his feet and pulls pillow over his face in frustration* dont make fun of me daniel this is very serious what do i do. daniel is like okay i’ll be there soon, be hard when i get there.
max is like what. but he’s honestly already at half mast from mentioning to daniel about jerking off and daniel is always taking care of him and max trusts him that he will actually help even if he has no idea what’s in store. there’s a little kernel of hope that maybe daniel means to get him off himself, but as max lays there hard and leaking as he waits for daniel to come over he tries not to get his hopes up even if what the fuck else would daniel say to be hard for.
daniel takes longer than expected to get to max’s apartment and by the time he finally arrives max is sweating and panting and about ready to tear his hair out if he doesn’t get to come or sleep or both. daniel approaches max’s bed (he has a key of course) and is stripping off his pants and underwear as he does (he keeps on his oversized hoodie from med school bc cozy), his cock is big and also getting hard and max hopes so much that daniel will wrap one of his lovely hands around max or maybe he will even grind his cock up against max’s and max can come that way.
max almost blacks out as daniel knee walks on the bed to straddle his hips and says softly tell me to stop if this isn’t ok, reaches back to spread himself open and lowers down to tease his hole over the soaked head of max’s cock. max is struck completely dumb as he feels daniel start to open around him, feels him already soft and wet and hot like he got himself ready beforehand because he was planning to do this for max.
daniel has barely sat all the way down on max’s dick before max can’t help but come right into daniel, bare and sloppy and perfect. when he’s done he makes grabby hands to daniel to get him to shimmy forward so he’s straddling max’s face, max is trying to hold his thighs and his hips and just grab him everywhere but daniel is like shhh baby you need these hands to be rested and gently holds max’s wrists and presses his hands down against the mattress by his sides, says be a good boy and keep them there for me, max nods because anything daniel, anything. daniel sits right down on max’s face and grinds on his tongue and his chin and his perfect nose until he comes all over max’s forehead and hair and a little on the pillows. daniel licks the come off max’s face then goes to the bathroom to clean himself out and comes back with a damp cloth to get the sticky remnants off max’s skin. daniel cuddles up to max after and max is asleep almost instantly, feeling safe and relaxed and happy.
the next day max nails his procedure, the patient does great and is recovering well in the PACU when his attending comes over and compliments the impeccable steadiness of his hands. max hopes the sickly fluorescent lighting overhead washes him out enough to hide his immediate flush.
max goes on to become one of the world’s leading neurosurgeons and daniel still sits on his cock whenever he can before max has a scheduled surgery the end.
#maxiel#uhhhh i guess this is what happens when i have sex on a work night…. nutted then started thinking about brain surgery#max just has neurosurgeon hands i don’t make the rules#if you don’t know what an awake craniotomy is google it and tell me you wouldn’t want your surgeon to be nice and rested 😏#my fic#but to be clear this is not at all a polished piece of writing lol
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Hii! 🙋🏻♀️
I saw that you are accepting requests, can I request an imagine with Jay Halstead where he and the reader (a surgeon) don't get along very well and, as fate would have it, they both live in the same building. One night the reader discovers that there is a camera hidden in the lampshade that she got from a strange guy, so the guy threatens her and Jay protects her. 😅❤️
Sorry for my English.
Warnings: Stalking/pedo men, brief hospitals, small injuries, and swearing.
A/N: Now that my series is done, I can finally get to completing and putting out all these requests. I wrote this in school. And do not apologise for your English, it was perfect.
Life is stressful right now so I lowkey got carried away writing this because it's somehow nearly 3k words but please do enjoy this!!
You weren’t too sure when it all actually started but it was too late to reverse time now.
Growing up, there was no way to avoid the Halstead brothers because all the way throughout your childhood up until the age of eighteen, you all went to school together and outside, your mothers were near inseparable. You could never catch a break.
What made matters even more confusing was that you didn’t mind Will, on fact, the two of you were quite good friends. You tolerated Will and with both your combined loves for medicine, an inevitable friendship bloomed but even with this, you and Jay just could not get along.
The only time you ever found solace was when the two of you finally parted ways after high school. You remained in Chicago to become a doctor and later surgeon while Jay, he spontaneously decided to enrol to become an army ranger. Your shock could not be hidden.
With both brothers out your life, days were so much more simple. From time to time, you wouldn’t say it aloud but you missed Wil’s company but Jay, his absence almost made it as though he never existed in the first place. And yes, maybe that was a bit cruel but the genuine hatred you had at the mere thought of him or the sight of his face, it made you want to hurl.
And the rest was history. Even with the more recent parts being a bit more pleasant yet depressive, your pure hatred for him didn’t seem to wane.
*****
Fast forward a few years and this is how it all is: your father remained ever so absent, both mothers passed away several years ago, Pat died last year, you and Will worked together and you and Jay weren’t exactly civil.
Living in the same building, on the exact same floor and literal doors apart could only do so much damage.
Today had been a very, very long day. You had just been on shift for a double that had run over because of the complicated surgery that almost went sideways last minute. You were practically dead on your feet. You loved trauma surgery as much as the next trauma surgeon but you could go without blood and scalpels for the next few hours because sleep was calling your name like a siren song.
Upon Connor’s insistence, he drove you home because he expressed his fear of you sleeping on the train and never getting off.
Finally in your apartment building, you dragged your feet to your door, your keys almost missing the hole due to your sudden misalignment. Your mind was nearing haziness but with one final push, you were inside and collapsed on your bed.
Sleep was instant. It was expected but you also weren’t surprised when you knocked out and woke up randomly at two in the morning. You felt semi-rejuvenated but you could definitely sleep for longer.
Drowsily, you stripped out of your clothes, chucking them towards the basket before walking into the bathroom. Doing what you needed to do, you returned and searched for comfortable pyjamas that were good enough for this heat.
Standing half naked in your own bedroom in the apartment that you rented alone was a completely normal thing to do. Never in your life did you need to be paranoid or extra careful. You were in the comfort of your own home, so why was there the need to be riddled with anxiety.
Well, apparently you should’ve because as you pulled you cotton shorts on, rummaging through your draw for an oversized shirt, you caught a miniscule red dot. You were so tired you contemplated if it was a hallucination but a few minutes later, remaining in the same position, the nano dot was still there.
Diverting your attention to the suspicious dot, you threw on a random shirt but somehow, during the milliseconds your head spent under the shirt before it reappeared, the red dot disappeared.
Now you were on edge. Sleep didn’t come as easy this time.
In the morning, everything looked the same. Going around, you tried to look for anything that could’ve been tampered with but alas, everything was in tip top condition. Maybe you really were so out of that that you were delusional, it all really could’ve been a hallucination.
You had a few more hours before you needed to go back to work and considering the state of your empty fridge, grocery shopping seemed like a promising idea.
Your sweetening mood however quickly turned sour at the familiar sight of a certain detective standing down the hallway, walking in the same direction as you towards the buildings only elevator.
Sighing in disappointment, you readjusted the tote bag on your shoulders and walked ahead anyway. There was no way you were letting this man ruin your mood.
Being stuck in the elevator though, it did ruin your mood a little.
For once in your entire life though, Jay didn’t rile you up. He didn’t say anything nor did he even attempt to roll his eyes when he saw you. It was weird, he barely even acknowledged you.
And you hated to admit it, but you didn’t like it. As much as you despised the man, Jay acting as if you were a ghost was something that irked you. But obviously, you were never going to tell him that, it’d only boost his already enormous ego.
*****
“You look like a rat.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”
You took it all back. Everything you said two days ago, you were taking it all back. Jay could rot and burn in hell and you still wouldn’t care.
Over the course of twelve hours, something must’ve changed because Jay’s renewed vigour was back and it was here to stay. You didn’t relish his silence long enough because the second he opened his mouth, your headache returned.
Next time, you were dragging Will and forcing him to escort you up to your apartment door because at least then he’d save you, he’d make this all much more bearable.
The sudden change in weather suited your mood, the rain mimicking your emotions that Jay was only half responsible for. The other half was a result of your newly achieved paranoia and anxiety that made itself known whenever you came home.
No matter where you searched or how many hours you slept, the red dot came and then disappeared again. It was annoying and it came to the point that you tried avoiding you bedroom especially as much as possible. To not be comfortable and safe in your own home wasn’t right.
Rolling your eyes, you fished your keys out of your bag and ignored whatever Jay was saying. You’d known him for so long that blocking out his voice had become second nature, it was something you did subconsciously.
You wished his apartment was before yours, that way at least you could have some peace but life worked in funny ways.
Stopping in front of your door, you were just about to unlock it when your body froze.
“What’s wrong?”
The sudden change in your mood caught him off guard, your frozen body worrying him slightly. He might’ve shared your feelings of hostility but you were his older brothers best friend, which had to count for something.
Following your line of sight, Jay’s eyes hardened at the unlocked door, a slither of light leaking out from inside as the door sat ajar. You definitely locked it this morning, there was no doubt about it.
Maybe you had the right to be paranoid. Perhaps you should’ve acted on it sooner.
Not wasting another second, Jay pushed you behind him and drew his gun. With his shoe, he gently nudged the door open and began surveying the apartment bit by bit with practised precision.
You hadn’t seen the man in action for a while now, it was weird to see him so proper and serious.
With nothing out of place and all valuable belongings safe and sound, Jay deduced that for now, things should be fine but if need be, if anything was out of the ordinary, he was the first person you called.
And for the first time ever in over thirty years, you made Jay a promise.
*****
You kept to your promise. This was a matter you weren’t going to mess around with, even if it was with Jay.
You had just come out of the shower, hair dripping wet, shorts and an oversized shirt on because despite the rain it was still humid and the summer heat wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Stepping into the dark room, you started patting your hair dry with a towel and walked towards the lamp so there was at least some lighting. A dimly lit room made you feel less paranoid.
It was upon turning the lamp on though did your anxiety peak. This new height it reached making it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden.
Without even thinking of the consequences, Jay’s number was the first thing you found on your phone, his contact name pressed within seconds of your discovery.
Heart pounding out of your chest, you forced yourself to move at the sound of the door. This fear was almost paralysing, you didn’t even know what to make of all of it.
“What happened?” Jay’s concern was immediate. All you did was call him and he came over without question. Your call alone told him enough.
You stared at him wide eyed, words lodged at the back of your throat but they wouldn’t go any further than that. Remaining wordless, you simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards your room and he followed obediently.
Your bedroom was now back to pitch black; you turned the lamp off straight away because the pyjamas you wore left little for imagination. That trail of thought made you want to be sick.
Jay stood beside you; your hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly while your other still held the wet hair towel that you probably should put away. He surveyed the dark room, taking it all in and trying to poke out anything out of the ordinary.
It was only when you tugged on his wrist, his head turning down to you before following your line of sight and pointed finger towards your innocent looking lamp that idly sat on your bedside table.
But it turned out to be not so innocent after all. Jay immediately saw the red dot no matter its small size, he saw it straight away and alarm bells went off.
Gently prying your fingers off his wrist, Jay holstered his gun and strode towards the lamp, tilting the lamp shade as he fiddled with something underneath. It didn’t take long before he stood up to his full height with a small black square in his palm.
This all-escalated way too fast for your liking.
*****
Jay refused to let you see anything from what he told you was a camera; he wouldn’t let you see it even for a price but he did briefly talk about what he saw in very little detail. What he told you was more than enough to make you want to bleach your body in a bath and move out of state to a place no one would know you.
Jay also wasn’t one hundred percent confident in letting you return back to your apartment alone. That’s how you found yourself wrapped in a blanket sitting cross-legged on his sofa, hiding yourself and your body from the world. Even with your shirt and shorts on, you felt liked dying at the thought of a man staring you down with intentions all but pure.
Gosh, you wanted to be sick.
Slowly sipping some water from a cup Jay silently handed you, you tried relaxing, rotating your shoulders to try release any of the tension but you failed. Fidgeting with anything was the only way you were able to not focus on the conversation Jay was having on the phone in the next room over. He was probably most likely talking to someone else from Intelligence.
The rest of the night, well more very early morning really, Jay explained the plan about how Intelligence were going to go about this but it would all happen in the morning at an actual suitable time.
With much bickering, Jay forced you into his bed as he took the sofa. It was weird that this was the most civil and even most nicest interaction the two of you ever had in either of your lifetimes. You wouldn’t tell him this unless under a life-or-death situation, but you kind’ve liked it. When Jay wasn’t being such a bastard, he was actually kind of decent.
Goodness, thinking about him was not something you would’ve ever thought of doing before yet here you were, thinking about your childhood nemesis at work.
The morning was relatively fine sprinkled with bits of awkwardness. Jay forcefully drove you to work when you insisted on going in today despite his attempts of getting you to stay home. If you tried and told Ms Goodwin the truth, she was very likely to give you the day off. Your stubbornness didn’t wane though.
You shift was normal, going from boring and mundane to fast paced just how you liked it. Nothing changed and it was relieving to be surrounded by familiarity and some sort of routine, it was a big distraction from the mess waiting for you at home. You tried keeping yourself occupied at every moment because any second you got alone with your deprecating thoughts, you were for sure going to spiral to a dark place.
And you’d been doing a great job at keeping busy till a certain detective walked in through the ED doors.
From the corner of your eyes, nothing about him looked off but when you squinted and walked towards him, you could make out a bloody gash poking out from his ripped jacket sleeve.
Now, Jay being hurt at work was nothing new. In fact, it was to be expected and you’d never been too bothered by it unlike Will was whenever his injured brother walked in so casually like it was another normal Wednesday.
However, you knew what he was doing at work today and your concerns peaked to such a height that Will had no reason to be worried anymore; you took it all from him.
“What happened?” You tried to remain somewhat calm, schooling your face as you dragged his non-injured arm towards an empty treatment room. Internally, you were glad Will was in surgery otherwise he’d be smirking and laughing like a manic at the sight he was seeing, a sight he’d never even envision in his dreams.
“We found the guy.” Jay ignored your question, begrudgingly sitting down on the bed, rolling his eyes when you wouldn’t let him get up. “We arrested him. Platt’s booking him as we speak.”
And just like that, all the weights pushing you down under the ground dissipated and you were beyond relieved.
You hands faltered as they went to grab some gauze, your eyes looking up to see whether or not he was lying but the soft smile spread across his lips, you didn’t need to question his credibility.
Without thinking, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and interlocked around his neck. Instinctively, you squeezed him a little, eyes shut as you relished in the good news. For a while, the world around you didn’t exist before it all came rushing back.
Suddenly, you abruptly pulled back, eyes wide in shock as your actions sunk in. Pressing your lips together tightly, you avoided eye contact and went back to preparing the gauze and butterfly strips, maybe even some wipes to see the real extent of the damage your stalker inflicted onto Jay.
Jay huffed in amusement and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. All of a sudden, you felt the need to smother his god forsaken handsome face-
What the fuck? There was no way you just thought that.
“He looks worse than me, don’t worry.” Jay started again, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke, his eyes not moving from your face. “He was being a bit of a dick so I roughed him up a little. This little nick is nothing.”
And for once, you didn’t doubt the truth behind his words. You fondly rolled your eyes before going to clean his bicep that was no longer covered by his jacket.
“My saviour.” You smiled placatingly, making brief eye contact before breaking it. “What would I have done without you.”
And for once again, there was no sarcasm dripping from your words. Behind them lay mostly the truth and maybe a hint of your typically sarcasm but without his help, who knows what would’ve happened.
“All in a days work.” Jay’s face didn’t change, his expression not moving a single bit. For a reason beyond your medical and surgical knowledge, you blushed, cheeks randomly feeling flushed.
Maybe now with childhood rivalry forgotten and shoved aside, things between the two of you could get better.
#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#jay halstead x reader#onechicago#jay halstead#chicago med#chicago pd#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead fanfiction#jay halstead oneshot#jay halstead x imagine#jay halstead x you#jay halstead x y/n
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What is so interesting and compelling about Gollian and David is that they can be so esthetically beautiful in many scenes BECAUSE of their imperfections. Their imperfections and flaws are what adds to their dimension: her teeth and gummy smile are generally "fixable" for Hollywood. His big nose, a little odd teeth, and injured eye that cause asymmetrical dilation and reflection are not generally traditional handsome Hollywood trademarks.
It's these little parts of the whole that add layers to their attractiveness, and then put together to reflect off one another, there is quite a complementary balance of appeal.
To this day, G has not fixed her teeth because she shouldn't have to, and that adds to her beauty of confidence. I wish more was made of actors and actresses who aren't plastic perfect and are some of the most attractive people on our screens because imperfection is beautiful.
I do agree, anon: their characteristics are what made them unique.
I will add: I never spotted DD's "messed up" front teeth (which he has since fixed) or wonky pupil, or even his too large nose; and I never noticed GA's less-than-Hollywood smile. Not for a long while, anyway. Perhaps I'm not perceptive enough. However, Hollywood agents/surgeons/whoever else would have, because they are marketing a project, a brand, and not a person. Not to mention: beauty standards were different then than they are now. Yes, there were a lot of surgeries; but the top models and stars still had "flaws" that marked them characteristically: farther apart eyes, asymmetrical eyes, off-set noses, etc. So, these two fit well into that crowd.
But Gillian's and David's attractiveness can't be denied, either: both have symmetrical faces, fit or slim bodies, and a full head of hair. Their features complement each other, and helped sell the The X-Files: her serious expression added dimension to her projected personality (and fit Scully) while his softer, larger, rounded features and squarer jaw were offset against her softly shaped, sharply defined ones (and added dimension to his projected personality; and fit Mulder.)
And, of course, David wasn't (seemingly isn't) the type to get serious work done unless he has two: namely, the two front teeth that pointed in "wrong" directions the majority of his career. (He still has two ear piercing holes he never uses, old tattoos he touches up, and sun burn damage, for example.) Gillian had massive insecurities in the 90s, but she never got her teeth fixed-- which is good, they gave her a distinct look-- or her cheek fat removed (which is good) or this or that filled in, etc. etc. I'm sure she has had maintenance work done since-- good for her: she is in the entertainment industry, and if that makes her feel confident, go on ahead-- but she keeps it low-key. I do wonder if that's because she's in England, and there isn't much obsession there with aging "Americanly" as there is here.
All in all... what a fun discussion! :DDDD
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One week since my Surgery
People liked hearing about my trans journey, so for those interested, here's my first week update to having vaginoplasty (one type of mtf bottom surgery).
Of course, I hope this helps any transfem interested in this surgery. But, I understand that other people will be curious. And that's ok! There's nothing wrong with curiosity. Just be respectful ❤️ which a lot of people been (and I block those who aren't)
No pictures but I will go get a bit graphic with my description so here's your warning before hearing more.
So first off some disclaimers. There's a lot of variety in procedure and treatment when it comes to vaginoplasty. For example, I live pretty close to the hospital I had the surgery at which influenced how early they let me go home. So, my experiences are definitely not universal.
So, I had breast augmentation at the same time. And for me, that was definitely the easiest surgery I've ever gotten. Like pretty painless (with painkillers ofc).
Now, vaginoplasty is definitely the most painful procedure I've had! The best way to describe the pain day one would be like when you've tucked all day but more intense (I know not a lot of people have tucked on this app but it's the best metaphor I could come up with 🤷♀️). But as the week went on, the catheter definitely became the most painful part. It felt like my urethra was burning 🔥😬 (I bet a lot more people can understand that feeling lol). Interestingly, it was at its least painful while moving and moving is also good for recovery!
I stayed in the hospital for two nights before they removed the covering and sent me home with a catheter and packing in my vagina. Again, they probably only did it this way because I live 20 minutes away. As the weak went on, it swelled up a lot and brushing spreads from it across my thighs (in honestly a cool pattern!)
When my catheter and packing was removed they gave me a "tour" of my new vagina. I don't remember the names well but here's what I remember. The Major flaps (the main thing you see when you see a vulva) we're still pretty swollen but starting to loosen and get that wrinkly quality. My nurse likes calming them dog ears at this stage and they really did look like dog ears 🥺🐶. I saw my clitoral hood and she said my clitoris is packed behind all of that but I don't need to worry about that for now. She also pointed out the urethral plating which was formally part of the urethra proper but with the inside on the outside now. It's super blue now but in time it'll start developing a mucus to keep my vagina from getting bone dry (will still need lube for dilation and eventually sex). And then the vagina hole itself.
To keep my vagina from healing shut, I'll need to dilate at least 4 times daily for 20 minutes this first week and a while longer and then slowly ramp down as the hole heals up. But, the nurse stressed that there are no hard rules with dilation and I just need to really listen to my body if I want to get the depth and width I want. Which I do want plenty of depth and width bc tbh my partner will be able to fill it 🤭 they key thing they said was to try to be as relaxed as possible while doing so 🪻
They also filled my bladder with sterile water as a "practice run" to make sure I can pee on my own.
I want to say I got a lot of wonderful nurses! All except the one I had when I first got out of surgery, I could tell actually saw me as and treated me like a woman. And they did a great job at welcoming me vagina ownership in a very understanding way without being condensing 💕
Despite the horrible pain, it's been a very euphoric experience 🥰 and I would definitely recommend it for anyone who wants it.
Feel free to ask any questions, I can't promise I'll have the best answers but I'll try my best 🥺
Also feel free to look through #my trans journey tag for more info on my transition if you're curious ✨
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Apartment 10
Ghost x fReader // callsign Misfit; fem no body desc // MDNI
cw bullet removal, taking a painkiller, slight blood and gore
summary: a new member of KorTac, you get caught out cold, and the only place to hole up in is a SpecGru safehouse... it's quiet. that is until Ghost arrives.
3.6k words // rating: E/18+ // MDNI // Part 2: Barracks 4
warnings: porn with plot (MDNI!!); unprotected sex (only fools don't wrap their tools); implied König x Reader; degradation whoops; possessive Ghost; slight pain play; size difference (reader isn't itty bitty, but she's smaller than Ghost that's realistic imo); hurt/mild comfort; nicknames used: callsign Misfit, girly, princess, sweetness, good girl, lovey, slut (1x)
a/n: this came to me because I've been apartment hunting for the last month or so, enjoy this trainwreck I put together in one afternoon. not betad. feedback appreciated.
How do you explain a bullet wound and other highly suspicious scars and bruises to a nurse in a language you don't speak, in a country you're illegally in?
You don't.
You keep your head down and get your arse to a safehouse.
That's what you do.
Good thing there was one in the city. It wasn't even your safe house, it was a SpecGru one. Still better than nothing.
Maybe.
You heard about it once, when you were stationed in the nearby capital, and met up with some operators for a beer.
You had to pick the lock and pray that you were the only one inside. Silence. You stepped forward. Flicking your handgun into the kitchen on the left, you saw nothing but an empty plate on the waxed tablecloth covering the small dining table.
Dead silent. Turning out from the kitchen, you moved forward. Two rooms, one large enough to house a bed, and the other presumably a bathroom.
Not bad, you nodded.
A droplet ran down your leg, where the baggy pair of pants allowed it to.
Sweat? Blood?
You had to check. Shedding your jacket, and the tac vest underneath, you sat down on the bed.
A bullet was lodged in your left hip for hours by then. Great.
Your face felt hot, lighting up with both regret and the sweet kiss of concrete you had to familiarize yourself with a few hours prior while fleeing a compromised position.
Palms scabbed, knees bruised, and that terrible throb of a bullet nestling in the thick bone.
You sighed and pulled the pants down just enough to assess the wound better. Peeling off the hastily applied gauze, you hissed in discomfort.
A small 9mil round of a handgun. If you strained yourself, you could get it out, it sat in a very advantageous position. You'd been through worse.
You started counting up the hours if it was worth torturing yourself with trying to remove the bullet. Earliest, you could head down to the nearest base, which happened to be an airfield via train the next day.
The total trip would have made up about 24 hours before being back on home soil in these conditions.
With a sigh, you stood up. Opening a drawer of the large closet nearby, relief washed over you as a small, half-empty bottle of disinfectant spray rolled to the wooden wall with a knock.
Pocketing it, you headed to the kitchen. Laying beneath the lip of the plate on the table, something reflected the light from outside. A key.
Swiftly, you locked the front door and disappeared they key deep in your pocket. Palming through the drawers, a small stake-knife was the closest thing to a scalpel, with its pointy end.
"Fucking SpecGru…" You grunted, shoving the drawer closed.
Back in the small bedroom, you sat on the edge of the bed to catch as much light as you could from the white streetlights outside to aid your surgery. Groaning, you pulled your pants down again a little and assessed the damage.
Fifty agonizing minutes later, you threw yourself back on the bed and spat the rag from your mouth, just as the stubborn round clinked on the ground below. Panting for a few minutes, you smeared away a little tear with the back of your hand, still holding the knife in a tight grip.
After carefully applying the last of your sterile patches, you silently washed up in the bathroom, and laid down on the cold mattress again, this time falling into a comatose sleep.
***
Something rustled.
Your eyes flashed awake. The moon was no longer shining through the window.
Movement of a door handle. Your ears perked, and your hands moved beneath the pillow to grab hold of your silenced pistol.
Footsteps.
You turned around, toward the door, and extended your hand ending in the barrel of the pistol toward the opening.
And a mirror image stared back at you. Another silenced pistol, but a man at the other end of it.
His eyes narrowed, the only feature on him you could make out in the dim light, apart from how large his frame seemed to be, still you recognized him from the times you'd seen him on tape... Impressive and commanding... Ghost.
"Lower the gun." He rasped quietly. It was a multi-storey apartment building after all.
A fellow operator. 'Fellow'. The only thing you'd seen of him yet was on bodycam, yet it still made you drool. He was an even more impressive sight in the flesh.
"You're…"
"SpecGru. And you're KorTac." He kept the gun trained on you, flicking his gaze to the discarded tac vest lying by the foot of the bed with the insignia patch on it.
You had to lower yours; having the short end of the stick. Freshly roused, wounded, and on enemy land. Well, enemy.
"I can explain." You offered and lowered the pistol.
He didn't.
Carefully, you laid it down on the bed and raised your hands. "Gromsko and Fender showed me this place once. I don't know how they knew. I was wounded. I picked the lock."
He sighed and lowered his gun, finally.
"You're Ghost." You tried. Had someone told you that morning you were going to meet him that day, you would have laughed in their face. But just then, you were the farthest away from laughing.
"Aye." He rasped and stepped into the room. "Won't ask what brings you here."
"No." You sat up in the bed.
He walked to the window and looked around. Without looking back at you, he addressed you by your callsign, "Misfit".
"Word travels…" You mumbled.
"Were you followed?" He finally looked back at you.
You shook your head, grabbing your pistol and stashing it back under the pillow under his watchful eye.
"Where you hit?" He took a step closer, searching eyes flicking up and down your body.
Pulling the undone waistband of your pants down, you showed him the patch.
"There's the bullet." You nodded towards the shiny cartridge on the ground.
He grunted and picked it up, black windstopper struggling to hold his frame.
"We're after the same target." He rumbled and pulled out a shell from one of his pockets. The bullet you dug out of yourself slotted right into it.
You shook your head in surprise and stood up, groaning at the sharp pain jolting through your damaged hip.
"'ve got a few more pain pills left. Willing to give you one if that means you'll sleep through the night and let me catch some shuteye too." He commented as he dropped the bullet into your palm.
It almost disappeared between his thick fingers, you noticed.
"That'd… That'd be appreciated, yes." You busied yourself with inspecting the disfigured bullet between your much smaller fingers.
He left for the bathroom and you took the time to sit back on the bed, one leg pulled below you. After some shuffling and strange clinks, he returned with a prescription bottle of painkillers. Name rubbed off, you noticed as he lobbed the container at you.
"Thank you." You screwed the cap off and took one. "Napro?" You glanced at the blue tablet.
You narrowed your eye at Ghost leaning against the doorframe as you took one and swallowed it. He barely fit in the doorway, you took notice.
"The American banker, right?" He asked nonchalantly and caught the bottle you threw back at him with a curve.
You remained silent. It was, your target.
"I'm here to observe him… He's part of a bigger plot…" He threw the bone at you.
"I have execute authority on him." You stared back at Ghost. "If you and your friends are about to ruin my mission…"
"Looks like there's competition, Misfit." An audible smirk lurked beneath his mask.
A sigh parted your lips.
"You blew the fuse already anyway." You massaged your temple as he spoke. "They're alerted that someone's here by now."
Silence descended on the room. A car passed outside.
"Security will be tight now. Working in our favour." He chuckled dryly, and it made you look up at him.
"So you did know I was here." You narrowed your eyes at him, searching.
"Might have." He shrugged short.
He stepped closer and closed the door to the room behind himself.
"You're in deep shit, Misfit." His voice neared a growl, and he leaned in more as he talked. "Wading in so deep onto enemy territory, trying to kill someone we want to keep alive… And I'm here feeding you my napro, and you're taking up my space on that bed. How's that right girlie, huh?"
His gloved hand cupped your cheek as he reached over the bed that separated the two of you.
Words evaded you as a finger brushed against your lightly parted lips, ghosting wisps of the cotton above your skin.
"I…"
"Been keepin' an eye on you, sweetness… Since you got off that train…" He explained, and rounded the bed, letting go of your jaw in the process that left you a few seconds to catch your breath; unsuccessfully.
"Didn't know KorTac needed eyes this badly, that they'd tolerate you in their ranks…" He continued, cooing when you frowned at his foul tone.
"Did I strike a nerve, princess? Hm?" He placed his hand under your jaw yet again, and gripped it tighter. "Answer me, princess. Did you get in over your head here? Don't tell me you want to prove yourself to someone…"
He rasped a chuckle from above you. His frame intimidated you in a way that sparked something previously unknown in your brain.
It was a secret, tightly drawn to your chest that you were attracted to him. You've seen photos of him, tapes, and other recordings; fighting, interrogating, or just simply being a menace on the field. His impressive (public) record also struck a chord in you. You often found yourself imagining him in your room, touching you when you were left alone for longer missions by the sly Colonel of your faction; König.
This time it was not the Colonel standing over you; Ghost was slightly smaller, but not a hair less impressive.
Legs lightly spread, hulking frame dwarfing you despite the fact you yourself weren't the smallest either, bulking up to pass KorTac's deathly entrance exams.
"Well, are you? Who's the lucky one, don't be tongue-tied now…"
Him. It was him, you slowly came to realize. König dwarfed in the back of your mind.
"Nobody…" You exalted, against the tight grip on your face. Even if it wasn't the entire truth, you weren't new to keeping secrets.
His eyes flashed with a strange light when an ambulance passed silently in the night on the street below.
"Now, now…"
"No. It's no one." Your gut twisted with a sinful delight when you came to, and the first thought connecting in your head was of his jealousy, and how painfully arousing it was to you.
There wasn't enough defiance in you at that moment to play cocky. You wanted it as much as one could have, and it was not the time to play around…
"Nobody?" His eyes narrowed behind the black paint.
You tried shaking your head, but his hand stopped you and held your head in place.
"Words, princess, use your words…" He leaned in closer only with his head.
"No." You repeated yourself in a voice breaking over the single syllable, only to elicit a chuckle from him.
Condescendingly, he shook his head.
"Too damn bad. I don't like liars." He shoved your face backward, making you fall back on the bed with a painful yelp.
"Will you make me fuck the truth out of you, princess?" He asked with a furrow of his brows.
No reply. Breath caught in your throat, as you focused on a much more dangerous sensation of wetness pooling in your half-undone trousers, soaking your knickers painfully quickly.
"Lying is one thing." He straightened up and zipped down his windbreaker as you found grip and propped yourself up on one elbow. "And silence… is another."
His jacket hit the floor mid-sentence, revealing a sweater underneath, the black hood of it already on his head.
"So…" He chuckled as he undid his belt, seeing your worried expression trail his hand. "I don't want to fill your pretty mouth in case you have sum'n to tell me…" He chuckled darkly and stepped closer to the bed, parting your legs hanging off it with his.
He grabbed your hips with both hands firmly, and dragged you closer to him, separating your legs even more. It was painfully obvious that the bedframe left you way lower than it'd have been comfortable for either of you.
And he saw it too. So without a word, he turned you over to your stomach, as if you were a rather large pillow. Your legs tangled, and the fresh wound on your hip spurted blood onto the dressing. Your closer hand flew to the area to shield it, and a pained whimper broke past your lips.
"Gotta wait for the pill to kick in, do ya?" He chuckled darkly and bent your knees expertly to prop your arse up into the air, undone pants already riding hallway down it.
"Good girl…" He drew out the words as he palmed the exposed flesh hungrily. The praise went straight to your cunt.
"You're making it hard to resist, lovey, to just fuck you without a thought of concern."
For once, he paid attention to the material riding against the wound but pulled the pants down recklessly over every other inch of your legs, the hems scraping along your sensitive thighs, discarding the cargos on the floor.
Your head buried into the thick mattress, scrunching the material of the covers against your skin.
"I still haven't got a name from you, princess… Who is it, that you so- desperately- want- to- prove yourself to, huh?" He punctuated his words with quick, small smacks against your now bare arse.
"Ugh…" You groaned into the covers, not wanting to admit yet, that this was a game you highly enjoyed as well.
The name of your Colonel escaped your mind, the empty space filled with hazy thoughts instead.
Had Ghost not shown up that night, realization might have settled in you way later; or maybe never. Affiliation be damned, it was him, there in that moment.
The gloves were gone, you noticed by the stinging sensation and the noise. The thought barely settled in you, when two fingers pushed the hem of your knickers aside, and dragged on top of your swollen lips, eliciting a breathy inhale of a moan from you. It embarrassed you, more after he chuckled in reaction.
"Those are not words, lovey…" He mumbled from above you. "Really? Do I really gotta finger you open to talk? I reckon…" You gasped feverishly as he pushed the two thick digits inside of you without any warning. "I reckon you have got to start talking soon enough… Will ya, pretty girl?"
Uncaring towards the painful throb in your hipbone, you sought some sort of anchorage in the sheets, nodding into them when you did.
Sprawled out on the bed like a cat stretching, you started making small but audible gasps to the rhythm of Ghost's two fingers pumping into you, easing you open.
"Good Lord, princess, you really- fuck, you really enjoying this now, are ya?" His rhythm sped up, and he bottomed out in you, ring finger hitting your clit with every stroke now, making you see stars.
His other hand supported your good hip, helping you fuck back into his hand.
You were eager by then, uncaring toward the pain, that quickly eased with the building pleasure in you.
"Next time… Next time you're not getting a painkiller, I'll just- God, I'll just make you take it, shit…"
His words, how raw and dismissive they were, sent shivers down your already buzzing spine, and let pleasure build in your further.
Then, his pace slowed, leaving you breathy and aching for more.
"I'm not going to let you come from my fingers alone, no…" You felt him lean closer, onto you. "You ought to talk first, lovey." His words barely settled in your ears when he removed his fingers from your sloppy cunt, pulling down your panties, and leaving you cold and dripping.
"Ah, no, no, please… No… I'll…" You breathed hastily through the words.
"You'll what, hm?" He punctuated the sentence with a light groan, and something clinked in the background. A concealed holster dropped on the ground with a light thud. "I'm listening."
You screwed your eyes shut just in time his leaking, angry head nudged against your entrance. A surprised moan rolled out onto the mattress from your lungs, only to be met with the harsher, more guttural sound of his groan.
"Sweet Jesus, Misfit…" He rasped between clenching teeth.
He didn't prod much, coating himself barely in your slick before pushing into you slowly. Velvety, ridged walls enveloped his raging length, and the sensation left you both gasping for air.
"So tight…"
"So big…"
The sounds overlapped.
His one hand continued holding your hip, the other settling on your back, pushing you into the mattress roughly.
He didn't move for a moment, but only a moment, before he drew a few languid strokes into you, settling finally deep within your walls, forcing you to arch your back even sharper.
"Got a bit sidetracked, eh, princess?" He teased.
The lack of your response prompted him to speed up his pace, jerking you forward with each thrust.
"You're,- ah fuck- you wanted this, didn'tcha?" He chuckled at the little gasps you were taking how the pace allowed it, the lack of oxygen making you slightly lightheaded. Your head tilted to the side, and he saw your eyes roll back into your head, which sparked him to ramble on.
"Can't take it, can you now, huh? Should have talked when you had the chance, slut." The longer he talked, the more muddled his words became, building a sensation in you with each thrust into you, that soon became irresistibly delicious.
Your dominant hand moved, seeking that one component that could send you over the edge.
"Yeah, touch yourself, that's it, princess." He mumbled, his pace earth-shattering and unwavering, launching you into another dimension.
Not only was the stretch immense from his thickness, but the curve and the length of his cock moved something primally deep in you.
"Can you talk? Can you, hm? I will fuck it out of you soon enough…"
Clearing your throat shakily, with the heavy frame of him rocking into you unyielding, you tried talking. The teasing few rubs on your clit turned intense in a moment, and words dared to spill out of your mouth.
"Yeah- ye-yes…" You cried out with more force than you expected.
"There you are, ungh-- good girl, now… Talk to me…" His pace did not falter, not for a syllable, keeping a murderous rhythm that soon had you teetering on the edge of a devastating orgasm.
"Do you want to prove yourself to me now, pretty girl? Hm?" His hand snaked forward, onto your nape, pressing your head down, increasing sensation to almost unbearable levels, and depriving you of your already dwindling oxygen supply.
"I do!" You agreed furiously, as wave after wave crashed onto you, making your legs shake beneath Ghost's intimidating form.
"Yes, that's it, good girl…" He growled, fingers digging into your good hip, the other hand grabbing your side to anchor you through your climax.
It arrived moments later, with incoherent words babbling out of your mouth, feeding the already swelling ego of Ghost.
"Tell me.." He panted, swallowing. "Talk, talk, princess, fuck-"
"It's you… yes. Yes, yes, you Ghost… Fuck, ah, fuck…" You rode out the last waves, and your hand fell back on the bed.
"So fucking cockdrunk, pretty girl, yeah…" He ignored your small shrieks the oversensitivity of your throbbing pussy pressed out of you, and continued pounding into you, thrusts growing shallow and erratic.
"Only for me, yeah? Answer me." He demanded sternly, as you barely recognized the world around you.
"Only… yes." That was all you managed, all care for your well-being or future consequences having been fucked out of your head.
"God, fuck, you're making me, mhh…" You felt him throw his head back, groaning as he did so.
"Prove your--self, only- to me. Nobody fucking else. Me." He stuttered for a moment, then sent home the building tension in his body with one last slam against your shaky hips, as you felt him empty his load deep inside your receptive walls. "Take it. Take it, fuck… Only from me."
"Yes, yes…" You mumbled, delirious and fucked out, twitching in cramped overstimulation.
You felt empty as he pulled out of our spent pussy, leaking and draining his spend messily over your folds.
"That taught you a lesson, didn't it?" He asked as you lowered your arse, and laid you down on your good side. Straining your tired body, you looked up at him.
Ghost was clasping his belt shut again, and adjusted his jumper when the two of you locked eyes.
"That pussy is mine now." He disclosed simply, gaze unwavering. "Nobody else touches you like me, do they?"
Unable to think of anything smart to say, you shook your head.
"None of those KorTac boys…" He cooed. "Not one of them can make you fall apart like this, no…" He chuckled and left for the washroom. Thoughts slowly came to you, but you slotted them away for another day. A minute later, he lobbed a wet towel at you and disappeared for a moment more until you cleaned yourself up and threw the rag to the foot of the bed.
"Move." He simply commanded, when he came back, much calmer than he was just but a minute ago. "Bed's big enough for the two of us, and we're well acquainted now. Now move." He sat down on the edge of it as you shifted to leave him some space.
You were still bare from the waist down, and just as you looked around the room for your knickers and pants he handed you both. Without a word, you put them on again, the cold, wet material slightly uncomfortable against your hot, still pulsing cunt.
Slightly groaning, you settled on the bed, facing away from him, on your good hip.
"You mad, princess?" You heard him ask as the mattress dipped beside you. It really was a tight fit, for the both of you to comfortably settle on the creaky bed.
You didn't have an answer to that.
"I'll take that as a no." He mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
Well, that was an answer.
One you desperately wanted to fight, before sleep dragged you under violently fast.
Part 2 - Barracks 4
a/n: we're not going to leave it here, I already thought of a new chapter, suit yourselves. rb and share and stuff, thanks for reading!!
#I think y'all can already tell what part 2's going to be about#beretta does fics#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#cod fanfic#cod mw fanfiction#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#call of duty#König cod#könig x reader#könig call of duty#konig x reader#konig mw2
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CUT DEEP into the innards of the southern front, Ukraine’s first underground hospital feels like something out of a James Bond movie. State-of-the-art gadgetry begins with admissions. Wounded soldiers arrive directly from the battlefield: in cars, ambulances, quad bikes, or whatever else can carry them. They are assessed and colour-coded into modules by urgency: “red zone” cases for immediate operations, “yellow zone” for other treatment. Alongside an operating theatre, enclosed in steel barrels several metres below ground level, is an intensive care unit. There is a ventilator, and even a laboratory for blood tests. The centre is set up for sophisticated operations: bone repair, soft tissue reconstruction, and even arterial bypass surgery.
In military jargon, this is a “role 2” facility, the second of four treatment tiers from frontline triage to tertiary hospital care. Doctors move people on if they can. Those stable enough are whisked off to “role 3” facilities, approximately 30km away. The rest are treated and stabilised here, a little over 10km from the contact line. The hospital’s immaculately joined wooden beams—chosen over concrete to soften shrapnel in the event of a Russian strike—project a deceptive warmth, like being in a Scandinavian sauna. The drones and glide-bombs that terrorise the skies outside make clear that this is not a place to relax. Ukraine’s medics are here, underground, not by choice. Like the soldiers they treat, they are among the hunted.
Evhen, the underground hospital’s chief medical officer, grunts at any suggestion that Russia might follow the Geneva conventions, which forbid targeting medical units. “They don’t even know what it means,” he says. To the Russian military, doctors are “force multipliers”—they patch up soldiers and send them back to fight, take a long time to train and are hard to replace. Ukraine now tells its medics to remove any markings that might set them apart. “If you put a red cross on a car, you’ll be fired on within 15 minutes.” The goal is still to get wounded soldiers from the frontline to a role 2 treatment unit within an hour, but drones drag out the process, often for hours. The delays often mean life or death; limb or no limb. Leave a tourniquet on for more than a few hours, and tissue damage is irreversible.
Ukraine believes survival on the battlefield is the key to regaining the edge in a war that has become largely attritional. The underground hospitals are a key part of the puzzle, says Roman Kuziv, the 35-year-old doctor who helped design them. A technocratic planner with experience of working as a surgeon in Europe, Dr Kuziv has quickly risen through the Ukrainian ranks: from local hospital chief to medical commander of the entire eastern and southern front. He lets data guide him to new standards and protocols. War pulses through the monitors in front of him. He claims the medical data give him “80% of the picture” about what is happening on the battlefront. Where units are well organised and where they are not. Where morale is good and where it is not. He makes a call to commanders whenever he spots a problem.
Swiping through images on his smartphone—a surreal blend of family photos and flesh wounds—Dr Kuziv reveals the brutal injuries and hard choices his teams face daily. He pulls up a photo of a man with a gaping hole in his upper body, alongside a kidney sliced in two, and a 30cm slab of missile metal that had been lodged deep in his midriff. “Did the man make it?” Remarkably, yes, he did. Another soldier, this time with a deep gash across his back, part of his spine missing, internal organs spilling out. That soldier survived initial surgery in the underground hospital, but died two days later. A third clip shows a soldier in his 30s, convulsing violently as he tries to drink a cup of water. What was up here? “Hydrophobia,” the commander says. “An extreme aversion to water.” In short, the soldier had rabies, caused by a single bite from a cat, and it was too late to save him. The army saw a handful of such cases before culling wild animals in the area.
Almost three years of war have brought Ukraine’s army doctors a mountain of unexpected challenges. Drones have largely rewritten the rulebook on battlefield wounds: the numbers are rocketing, and the attacks are more persistent, more targeted. The “golden hour”—NATO doctrine for evacuating a soldier to proper care within 60 minutes—has become something closer to fiction. Chemical weapons have returned to the field, too, with the re-appearance of agents like chloropicrin, a poison gas first seen in the trenches of the first world war. The gas, used to flush out Ukrainians from their trenches and foxholes, attacks the soft tissues of the respiratory system. At higher doses, it kills.
The demands have seen Ukrainian military medicine develop in quick time. Today’s setup is unrecognisable from seven years ago, when Dr Kuziv first began working with the army. The commander regularly tracks Russian social media to gauge how well he is doing. He’s usually happy with the comparison with Russian front-line medicine. “It’s the second world war over there.” But the demands and need to stay ahead are relentless. The ministry of defence has just approved another 20 of his “role 2” underground hospitals, which are being co-financed by an industrial sponsor. The commander is also working on an overhaul of “role 1” facilities, front-line triage units. According to his futuristic vision, these will be accessible underground by a system of mechanical elevators.
There have been mistakes, thousands who could have been saved. But Russia’s war without limits would test the resources of any military medical service, Dr Kuziv insists. “All-out war gives you one or two months to study and adapt.” NATO countries should be thinking about how they would cope, he says. “Honestly, they are not prepared. They wouldn’t know what’s hit them.”
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Best CABG surgery in bangalore | Best Cardiac Surgeon in Bangalore - drdivakarbhat (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1317589682-best-cabg-surgery-in-bangalore-best-cardiac?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading Chief Cardio-thoracic Surgeon well known for his Beating heart surgery technique where in heart (engine) is repaired without stopping, thus helping the patient to recover very fast from major operation.
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How To Woo A Hot Principal
Step 11: Realizations
Summary: Working at the Weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.
But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?
Y'all wanted the Larissa pain and I bring you Larissa pain. Enjoy. Also again, pls send all the love to the now co-author of this series @misssmephisto 🦐✨
Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond @gela123
(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)
Chapter 10
Cross Posted on AO3 here
HWTAHP Masterlist
------------------------------------------------------------
Larissa had fucked up.
She knew she had the moment she’d ended her bullshit-filled tirade. Knew when you had run out of her office sobbing.
And she sure as shit knew right now.
She had been sitting at her desk, re-reading the same email for what had felt like the hundredth time when she’d gotten a call from Marylin. She was confused, it was the middle of the night. She answered the call, a deep sense of dread chilling her to the bone as she did so.
“Larissa? I-I saw your girlfriend running into the woods and-and I was worried so I followed her but- she’s been attacked, Larissa. I don’t-I don’t know if she’ll make it I-“ Marylin rushes.
Larissa can’t breathe, she’s no longer listening to Marylin. Her hands are shaking and she feels like she might throw up. She brings one hand to cover her mouth, the other gripping her phone as if it were her lifeline. As panic gripped her, the words blood, ambulance and sheriff breached her mind from the device in her hand.
She’s the reason you were out there. She’s the reason you got attacked.
She was wrong. She was so so wrong. She was wrong and now you might die and she was so wrong.
She called you a monster.
Before she can even register what she is doing she has grabbed her keys and ran out of her office.
“Marylin” Larissa started, cutting off the tear-fuelled rambling of her college. “I need you to gather the staff and check on all the students and make sure everyone is accounted for. The school is on lockdown as of now, keep everyone indoors and safe. I’m going to the hospital, call me if anything else happens.” She instructs.
Before Marylin can reply, Larissa has hung up and is getting into her car. She drives frantically, not particularly caring what traffic laws she’s breaking. All she cares about is getting to you. You have to be okay. You just have to.
When she finally makes it to the hospital, she all but barges through the front doors. Rushing up to the front desk, the headmistress frantically asks about your whereabouts. She’s told you’re in surgery, you’d lost an almost catastrophic amount of blood but they were doing everything in their power. She’s directed to a waiting room and then left alone.
Larissa had no idea how long she had sat there, her eyes burning holes into the floor beneath her as the words, those horrible cruel words she spoke to you ran through her head. She keeps seeing your face, heartbroken with tears running down your cheeks. She keeps thinking of how this is all her fault, how you could’ve been safe if she had just listened to you. If she had just not been a royal bitch. If she had just had dinner with you.
She didn’t deserve you. After all you’d done for her, after all you’d gone through with her. She wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see her again.
But you didn’t deserve to be alone, so she would wait here until she knew you were okay. It was the least she could do.
——————
The clock ticked on, seconds becoming minutes, minutes becoming hours. There had been no news, and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Her legs were stiff, her eyes were stinging. She probably looked dreadful but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The once powerful persona of the Nevermore headmistress was broken, stuck floating in time.
She was glad to not have heard from Marylin. Hopeful that that meant everything was well at the school. She honestly wouldn’t have been much use if something was wrong anyway.
She was startled by a set of doors being flung open, her body fuelled with adrenaline, legs quivering with how fast she was forced upwards. She was even more shocked when three of her students came bursting through said doors. Enid, Wednesday and Yoko ran up to her and before she can scold them for being off school grounds during a lockdown, Yoko speaks.
“Is she still in surgery?”
Larissa sighs and nods, deciding she doesn’t have the energy to be the stern principal she should be. Sliding back into the seat beneath her, Larissa’s mind begins to fall back into the routine she had been stuck in for the past however long. However, Wednesday spoke six words that shattered the downward spiral the headmistress had created.
“Do they know she’s an outcast?”
“What are you talking about?” Larissa responded, her head turning towards the girl, curiosity leading her fast reply.
“She’s a vampire. We can explain how we know later but right now we have to tell them she’s a vamp and will be needing blood, well- more blood.” Enid explains.
“I-that can’t…how certain are you of this? We can’t just- she could-“ Larissa stutters.
“Just trust us on this, please. I don’t…we don’t want her to die.” Yoko pleads.
Shocked by Yoko’s outright display of emotion, Larissa nods. She gets up from the chair, her joints popping in protest. She strides over to the nurses' station, explaining your situation to them. She has to argue back and forth with them for quite a while before they listen to her. The terms legal guardian, family and medical records are thrown around in protest before the desperation on Weems’ face convinces the receptionist to ring into the surgery room. Before she can turn back towards her students, a nurse in conversation with the other receptionist turns in disgust at the piece of information Larissa had shared. Continuing in the direction she was heading, Larissa barely resists the urge to cuss her out.
Returning to the seating area, she sighs. A motion filled with exhaustion, regret and deep sadness.
“Can I get you three something to drink? I have a suspicion this is going to be a long night.”
——————
The four had settled back in the waiting room, this time on the two couches that were available. Larissa and Enid had gotten a hot chocolate while Wednesday and Yoko had settled on coffee (Larissa did not have it in her to try and get them to have something without caffeine in it.) None of the girls commented on Larissa’s appearance, which she was truly grateful for.
Breaking the tense silence they had found themselves in, the headmistress spoke, “Alright, so how did you three figure this out?”
“Well, it actually started when Wednesday ran overheard you two talking about (Y/N)’s nightmares.” Enid starts.
“I’m sorry what?” Larissa interrupts, turning to shoot Wednesday an accusatory stare. She expected nothing less of the girl, knowing her reputation but a sense of upset and surprise still struck her.
“I was investigating a potential lead in the attacks and happened to walk by your office while you two were talking.” She hums, taking a sip from her decidedly not completely shit coffee.
“Anyway, from there Wednesday was uh curious about what was going on with her…” Enid continues.
“I suspected she may be the person behind the attacks.” Wednesday deadpans.
Larissa freezes at that, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat. She feels a strong stabbing pain in her chest. In an effort to distract herself, she looked down at her takeaway cup and hums.
“Uhm so yeah Wednesday did some digging. She was trying to figure out what made her come to Jericho in the first place, given the attacks started right around the time she arrived. But then Yoko came to pick me up for a trip to Jericho to go shopping and saw Wednesday’s murder wall and found it way more interesting than I did, it gives me the creeps.”
“A murder wall?” Larissa questioned, incredulous.
“So then Yoko told us about the way your barista girlfriend had a vampire smell. Furthermore, along with some information she learnt from Outreach Day and her behaviour over the past couple of days, I deemed it appropriate to enter her home and do some more digging-“ Wednesday explained.
“Wednesday Addams-“ Larissa hissed.
“And I found these tablets she was taking. I’d never seen or heard of them before, so I did some further investigation and it would seem it's a rather poor blood substitute, which fit Yoko’s vampire theory.” Wednesday continues, ignoring the blonde’s obvious anger.
“But she has no fangs?” Larissa murmurs.
“In more conservative places there was a practice where they would file down young vampire's fangs to make them more ‘normal.’” Yoko explains with a scowl. “It's archaic and evil.”
“Why…who would do this..?” Larissa mumbled.
“Well, that’s where Wednesday’s digging into why she moved here comes in. Turns out she used to live in this super small town literally in the middle of nowhere. Everything we found about it was not like outright ‘outcasts are evil and dangerous’ but was prejudiced enough to give me the super ick.” Enid offered.
“I see…” Larissa breathed out.
Larissa didn’t know how to feel. Actually, she did. She felt a deep, deep sense of self-loathing and shame. And above all else, she felt guilt. Guilt that made her stomach churn and her chest ache. Gods she truly didn’t know how she would live with herself after tonight.
The four of them sat in silence for a while, the three girls noticing their headmistress’s unusually upset demeanour and deciding it best to leave the queries, for now. Hours went by with no news, Larissa growing more and more weary as time went on. She had tried to convince the three girls to go back to Nevermore but had received a rather strong chorus of no’s in return. Eventually, a doctor came through the doors and called out your name. Larissa immediately stood from her seat and rushed over to her, her heart firmly lodged in her throat.
“I-Is she alright? Did she make it out of the surgery okay?” Larissa asked.
“She’s just come out of surgery, we’ve taken her to the ICU. The surgery went well, surprisingly given her condition, it was touch and go for a while, but after we started administering more blood things went much smoother. I can take you to her room if you’d like?” She states.
“I-Yes, thank you.” Larissa breathes, her heart calming just a bit.
She gathers the three teens before following the doctor to your room. The doctor warned the group that you were still asleep and still weren’t in the greatest shape, so they needed to prepare themselves. Larissa had to take a moment outside your room to steel herself. She needed to keep herself together.
When she entered your room and saw you laying there, unconscious and battered her resolve to keep herself together crumbled instantly. You looked so small and fragile in the hospital bed. Your face was so pale and you were so still. She let out a choked sob, bringing a shaking hand up to cover her mouth, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She hurries over to your side while scanning you over for injuries. You have several small cuts littering your face and arms. A deeper more noticeable cut on your head, and the skin around it is bruised terribly. She’s certain the brunt of your injuries are hidden beneath the blanket covering you from the chest down and her stomach drops just thinking about it. She drops into the chair seated next to your bed.
“When uhm-“ Larissa tries, her voice cracking, “When will she wake up?”
“Unfortunately, due to the extreme nature of her injuries we can’t be certain when she will wake up.” The doctor explains.
“Do you know that she’ll wake up?” Wednesday queries.
Enid scolds her, slapping her on the arm while Larissa squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t fathom a world, a life without you. You and your brilliant smile and silly jokes that never failed to make her laugh. And yet she threw that all away anyway. Hurt you immeasurably and for what? Because she was stupid enough to doubt your character, to make out as if you were some manipulative awful creature? She was awful, irredeemable.
“Principal Weems?” Enid prompts gently.
“Hm?” she responds, not taking her eyes off you.
“We’re going to head back to the school now. Do you need anything before we go?” She asks.
She shakes her head, thanking the three of them before they leave. And then it’s just you and her. She moves the chair closer to you and settles into it, kicking off her heels. She tentatively grabs one of your hands, squeezing it gently.
“I-I know that I-“ She whispers, her voice shaking. “That I- That the things I did- the things I said were- they were-“
She breaks into sobs then, squeezing your hand as she doubles over. She cries harder than she ever has in her life. She cries for what feels like eternity and she’s honestly not sure how long it truly was. Eventually, her sobs dissolve into hiccups and a constant stream of tears falling down her cheeks. She wipes at her eyes with her free hand, careless of the way her mascara smudges.
She knows this is the least of what she deserves. She deserves to be crushed by her guilt. She deserves to feel as though all the air has been sucked from the room, as though the weight of her callous words and cruel thinking will drown her. She deserves all the pain and suffering the world has to offer.
But she will stay by your side, ensure you’re taken care of and not alone. It’s the least she could do.
——————
Larissa essentially hadn’t left your side since that night. She had gotten Marylin to bring her laptop the first time she visited so that she could attempt to get work done while watching over you. She had admittedly gotten much less done than usual but was still managing to get everything sorted. After two days of Larissa not moving from your side she had a very entertaining conversation with Enid and Wednesday.
“Uh, Principal Weems, don’t take this the wrong way but uhm…do you think you should maybe uhm…well…” Enid tried.
“You look dreadful. You should go back to Nevermore and clean yourself up.” Wednesday interjected.
Larissa had stared at the two of them, wide-eyed, before huffing a sigh and agreeing to head back to Nevermore later that day to make herself more presentable. The two had offered to stay with you while she sorted herself out. She thanked them, taking the hint and quickly returning to Nevermore and taking a much-needed shower and changing her clothes. She made sure to pack a few days worth of clothes and toiletries. The whole time she was away she worried you’d wake up while she was gone. She worried you’d think she didn’t care. She didn’t expect you to want her there when you woke up, she would leave as soon as you told her to. She deserved your anger and hate. But she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if you woke up alone.
So she packed all her necessary belongings and headed back to the hospital, to you. When she arrived back at your room Wednesday and Enid were deep in a seemingly very serious conversation. She used the opportunity to get herself a coffee from the hospital cafeteria. The coffee wasn’t terrible, but it was nothing compared to the drinks you brought her every morning. You would always bring her the most delicious coffee in the morning with the sweetest messages written on them.
And she had the gall to say all your kindness, all your actions were nothing but an elaborate ruse? She was truly the most awful person alive.
She made her way back to your room, her chest heavy with guilt. When she arrived for the second time Wednesday was nowhere to be found and Enid looked like she was on the verge of tears. Larissa stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearing her throat to alert the young werewolf to her presence. Enid startles slightly, wiping at her eyes with the brightly coloured sleeve of her sweater.
“Oh Principal Weems! I uhm- She still hasn’t woken up yet. And Wednesday was here she just- well we…” she trails off, her lower lip quivering.
“Miss Sinclaire,” Larissa starts, pausing before coming to stand next to her. “Enid, I don’t know the intricacies of your relationship with Wednesday, but if you ever want to talk about it…”
“I just…” She sniffles, fresh tears coming to her eyes, “I really thought I-I was making progress with Wednesday and-and our friendship and her accepting that we’re you know actually friends. But then every time we have a moment or something she just shuts down and runs away. I just- I don’t know what to do.”
“Well,” Larissa starts, offering Enid a tissue which she gratefully accepts, “I’m not always the best with these sorts of things, goodness I all but ruined the one good relationship in my life… never mind that. With Wednesday, I think- she’s naturally closed-off but she truly does care about you. She may not express her affection in the same manner you do but I know for certain that she values you and your friendship. She just needs some time to figure out her feelings and figure out how she’s most comfortable expressing those feelings. So just, keep doing what you’re doing, but understand and give her time.”
Enid stares up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes before launching herself forward into Larissa’s arms. Larissa startles, glad for her tall frame for once. She tentatively wraps the poor girl in a hug. She holds her as she cries into her coat.
“You really are an amazing person, Enid, never doubt that.” She murmurs.
The two embrace for a while before Enid stops sniffling and takes a step back, she beams up at her principal.
“Thank you, Principal Weems, you’re the best…” She smiles, which then turns into a concerned frown, “What was that about ruining a relationship?”
Larissa’s face falls at that, all of the colour draining from it. She clears her throat and does her best to fight the tears gathering in her eyes. Turning to face your sleeping form, she lifts a hand up to play with her necklace, swallowing thickly. She opens her mouth to speak, to explain herself but can’t find the words.
“I’ve not been a very good person as of late…” Larissa whispers, “I hurt her, possibly beyond repair. And now she’s-“
She stops herself, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. It’s highly inappropriate for her to even be talking about this with a student. She really ought to-
“Well, I’m sure whatever it is that happened,” Enid says, “If you just talk it out with her and apologize then maybe it’ll all work out.”
Enid's hope is adorable, but Larissa knows it won’t be that easy. The things she said to you were unforgivable. She had very little hope of salvaging things between the two of you. She only wanted to make sure you were okay and you didn’t blame yourself for anything that happened, as you tended to do.
Enid leaves her alone to her thoughts and she settles back in the chair. She reaches over and grabs your hand again. She can’t stand the silence of the room, only permeated by the constant beeping of the machines. So instead, she fills the silence with her apologies. She cries and apologises over and over. And when she’s all out of apologies she tells you everything she wished she had told you before that night, everything she thought and felt.
“I love you…” She whispers shakily, “I’ve loved you for so long now. I- I will never stop loving you, regardless of what happens when you wake up.”
She falls asleep that night, holding your hand while awkwardly sprawled in the chair, hoping you wake up.
——————
Marylin visits quite frequently, much to Larissa’s confusion. She brings new flowers each time (which consequentially has left your hospital room looking like a florist despite the nurses clearing the room each night.) She watches over you to allow Larissa some time to stretch her legs and occasionally go home to shower. As she travels back and forth between the hospital and Nevermore, she comes to the conclusion that the reason for Marylin’s visits are because she was in essence the one who found you. She also constantly reminds herself that she has no right to feel jealous of whatever friendship you and Marylin may share.
Along with Marylin some of her students come and visit you. Yoko comes around the most, often not staying very long but checking on you nonetheless, occasionally leaving small trinkets with your still form. Despite not knowing the true depth of your friendship with her student, Larissa feels comfortable giving you two space when Yoko visits.
Enid and Wednesday were the next most frequent visitors. Often they came together, a good sign Larissa hoped, but sometimes one of them would come on their own. Often Enid would chat with Larissa, ever since they had their heart-to-heart a few days ago she found the young werewolf had deemed her someone she could gossip or rant to. Larissa didn’t mind, often she found she actually really enjoyed Enid's company.
Wednesday was the complete opposite. She would always come in, check your vitals and flip through your chart that sat at the bottom of your bed (Larissa had given up on scolding her for it after three days.) Then the dark-haired girl would nod at Larissa before slipping from the room, off to cause mayhem no doubt.
James had visited every day, often chatting to Larissa while he did. Larissa didn’t know how to tell him he should hate her, should be cursing her and being as cruel to her as she was to you, if not worse. So instead she took to making important calls just after he arrived. She figured he appreciated the time alone with you anyway.
On one rather strange occasion, Tyler Galpin had sheepishly knocked on the door of your room. He had glanced from Larissa to you and then stared at you with a hollow, almost guilty look. He had dropped off some flowers (adding to the ever-growing collection you now had) and then left. The entire visit had felt strange to Larissa but she didn’t have the energy to put into thinking about it further.
It had been over a week since the accident, twelve days to be exact. Twelve days of restless sleep, nightmares and uncomfortable sitting. Her whole body ached from being sat in the less-than-comfortable chair all day and night. Often she’d have to redo her makeup at least once a day (made so much easier with her shapeshifting abilities) on account of all the crying she was doing, despite feeling she had cried enough to fill the Pacific.
She worried you would never wake up. That one night she would fall asleep in that awful chair and wake up to the long unending beep of the heart rate monitor. And then they would take you away, and there would be a funeral and she would be completely and utterly lost without you. She worried you would wake up and quietly ask her to leave and never come back. She worried you would wake up and rightfully hate her and everything she stood for. She just worried.
Larissa never stopped speaking to you. On some days it was simply her telling you about the work she’d been doing or the latest update from Enid. Others it was her begging for your forgiveness. But she always made sure to tell you she loved you at the end of each day, regardless of whether you could hear her or not.
——————
It was the evening of the fifteenth day since the attack. Larissa was holding your hand with one of hers while she read a book she had been meaning to finish for months. She had taken to reading aloud, she found it helped keep her mind occupied and off of the crushing guilt she felt. She was halfway through the chapter when she felt your hand twitch.
She dropped the book, scrambling to bring her other hand over yours, her eyes rapidly searching her face for any sign that you may be waking up. Her heart was in her throat and if she hadn’t been holding your hand so tightly she would’ve noticed just how badly they were shaking. Her heart stops when your brows furrow, your nose scrunching. The beeping of the heart monitor beside you, began to speed up slightly.
“Darling?” she breathes out.
And then your eyes flutter open and her breathing stops.
You’re okay, you’re waking up. Everything is going to be okay-
Larissa’s back hit the floor, the chair she had been stuck to toppled beside her but she didn’t hear it fall. Everything was silent, the world had stilled. Her eyes were pinned to the ceiling staring at the fluorescent lights above as she began to feel a deep, burning pain in her neck. Slowly turning her head, she discovered the source. It was you.
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