#mens scrub caps

[blueskyscrub]

Unveiling Elegance and Functionality

Exploring the Range of Surgical Caps by BlueSkyScrubs

In the world of healthcare, every detail matters, from precision surgeries to maintaining a clean and sterile environment. Among the many essentials in the medical field, surgical caps play a crucial role in ensuring both hygiene and professionalism. BlueSkyScrubs, a renowned name in medical apparel, has taken this essential piece of attire to new heights by combining elegance and functionality in their range of surgical caps.

The Essence of Surgical Caps: Beyond the Sterile

Surgical caps, often an overlooked accessory, serve multiple purposes in the operating room. Their primary function is to contain hair, preventing it from falling onto the patient or into the surgical field. This maintains the sterile environment necessary for procedures. However, the significance of surgical caps extends beyond functionality. They are an integral part of a healthcare professional's attire, reflecting a sense of identity, unity, and professionalism within the medical community.

BlueSkyScrubs has recognized the importance of balancing practicality with aesthetics. Their range of surgical caps goes beyond the utilitarian aspect, embracing style while upholding hygiene standards. Let's dive into the key features that make BlueSkyScrubs' surgical caps stand out.

**1. Variety in Design and Fabric: One size does not fit all, especially when it comes to personal style and comfort. BlueSkyScrubs acknowledges this diversity and offers a wide array of designs, patterns, and colours to choose from. Whether it's a classic monochromatic look or a vibrant pattern, healthcare professionals can express their individuality while adhering to the dress code of the medical setting.

Moreover, the choice of fabric is equally significant. BlueSkyScrubs utilises high-quality materials that are both breathable and durable. This ensures that the surgical caps not only maintain a sterile environment but also provide comfort throughout long and demanding surgeries.

**2. Tailored for Comfort: Long hours in the operating room demand utmost comfort. BlueSkyScrubs' surgical caps are designed with the wearer in mind. Their adjustable back tie closures allow for a customizable fit, ensuring that the cap remains snug and secure throughout the procedure. This attention to comfort translates into better focus and precision for healthcare professionals, ultimately contributing to better patient outcomes.

**3. Elevating Aesthetics: BlueSkyScrubs understands that healthcare professionals take pride in their appearance just like anyone else. The surgical caps offered by the brand are a testament to this understanding, as they seamlessly blend functionality with elegance. These caps not only meet the necessary hygiene standards but also exude a sense of professionalism that instil confidence in both the medical team and the patient.

**4. Durability and Sustainability: In a world that increasingly values sustainability, BlueSkyScrubs takes a step forward by creating surgical caps that are built to last. The use of high-quality materials ensures that these caps can withstand numerous cycles of use and sterilisation without compromising on quality. This not only reduces the need for frequent replacements but also contributes to reducing waste in the healthcare industry.

**5. Personalization and Team Spirit: BlueSkyScrubs goes beyond the conventional by offering the option of personalised embroidery. Healthcare teams can add their names, department, or even a motivational message, fostering a sense of unity and camaraderie. This small touch goes a long way in building team spirit and promoting a positive and collaborative atmosphere within the medical setting.

Conclusion: A Fusion of Form and Function

Surgical caps, often underestimated in their importance, hold the power to transform the healthcare environment. BlueSkyScrubs, through their innovative range of surgical scrub caps, has successfully merged elegance with functionality. These caps not only meet the stringent requirements of the medical field but also empower healthcare professionals to showcase their individuality and professionalism.

In an industry where every detail matters, BlueSkyScrubs has managed to elevate the surgical cap from a mere accessory to a statement piece that reflects dedication, unity, and style. With a commitment to quality, comfort, and sustainability, BlueSkyScrubs has set a new standard for surgical caps that not only protect, but also inspire.

[katsukiizmoon]

*whimpers*

Katsuki being one of those men with an elaborate shower routine. He applies hair oils once or twice a week. His body wash is coconut and caramel.

Katsuki uses an body net or body scrubber and a sugar scrub weekly. He’s got a stupid fuckin towel warmer and wears a goddamn shower cap in between wash days.

At first he thought it was stupid but his mama told him to wash his ass and exfoliate or he’d never be the best. And then next thing he knows you’re coming into his life.

You gasp when his skincare is a face wash and maybe moisturizer. The next time you’re in his apartment you spend time in his luxurious bathroom lining up different products and leaving sticky notes on his mirror.

His skin actually glows now, it’s so moisturized and plump. You’ve even convinced him to go get facials with you next week, and manipedis. Something about manicured hands being the sexiest thing in the world. He’s already picked out your nails for you after spending an hour browsing through Pinterest inspo.

And when you shower at his place you leave smelling like caramel and coconut!! He notices a little bit of his body scrub is gone and makes mental note to get a few more options for you. The both of you shower together here and there and you make sure to massage his muscles with soap.

N afterwards you’re rubbing Shea butter all over his back and chest. Katsuki massages it into your thighs and lower back, working out your tight muscles and after you just kind of lay there in the AC.

I just- he hhhnnghh idunnowhattodohndnhshzhnnnghh

[thetxtdevil]

Scrub Nurse

Nurse!Yeonjun x Doctor!Reader

summary: After the nurse makes you look like a fool in surgery in your opinion, you get into an argument that leads to the nurse putting you into your place.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, dom.yeonjun, sub.fem.reader, pinning, restraining, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, and the slightest dacryphilia ?, public sex? kinda

word count: 2.2k

au note: took my sweet time with this one hope you like it, and credit to @aduh0308 for help/support.

A metronome of an EKG echoes through the quiet sterile room, the environment is properly lit, agonizingly bright, but perfect to focus on the patient in front of you. The silence of the room is broken by the first words “Alright everybody we have a Mr. Johnson, a 65 year old, white male presenting with a lovely pulmonary embolism, now let's get this clot out shall we?”

You turn your head to your scrub nurse, glancing down the man’s hand already hovering over the iodine packet and sponge. Your palm reaches out above the patient, “Iodine please, Yeonjun.” The solution lands in your hands firmly, not a chance for it to slip and fall out of the sterile field. That’s how good the scrub nurse was, Yeonjun, the whole surgical staff’s favorite. He has been a scrub nurse ever since he graduated nursing school, long before your surgical internship. Never missed a shift, never made a mistake, always a trustworthy coworker, and there was no way you were going to deny it. You also couldn’t deny that he was unbelievably handsome, his warm brown eyes squint signifying a smile under the surgical mask, little dark hair flipping up from under his white and black starry scrub cap.

Yeonjun is smart, handsome, kind, but also a man-whore. First day of internship rumors circulated in your small group that he hooked up with everybody. You’d roll your eyes and deny the fact, first, that's none of their business, second, we’re all too professional to be hooking up with our coworkers and “doing it” in the hospital. Oh how wrong you were, when little innocent surgeon wannabe you walks into a supply closet to witness your surgical resident getting fucked dumb by none other than, Nurse Yeonjun.

It was a hard pill to swallow because he wasn’t the only one. Not only did you have to learn the extensive material of saving lives but you also had to dodge the overly attractive men working with you. You didn’t know if it was all the sad deaths or the burnout but you felt like they were everywhere fucking everybody. You soon learn that's the way of a hospital, a business that wants your money, employees that work until they are their own cause of death, and it is a building full of horny people.

You bite your lip in concentration and the fact that the man who you’ve seen his naked ass a few too many times is standing so close. Eyes locked on the open chest of the patient, your skilled eyes can easily identify the pulmonary artery and the exact spot of the clot. One by one a tool is given to you, “Yank-” the suctioning tool is already in your grasp.

You look at the man, “The yankauer, Doctor” he says as you know that he has a smirk under that mask.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you?” you say looking back into the cavity suctioning out the loose embolus.

“No doctor, ok maybe a little.”

“Are you bored of me, nurse?” Yeonjun’s eyebrow quirks up when you exaggerate his title. He leaves the conversation at that so you can continue to focus on the surgery. The clot was removed, blood flow restored, the chest cavity was put back into place and it was now time to close the incision site. “Staples.” Yeonjun says with the item waiting in his hand.

“No, no I want sutures.” Yeonjun shifts on his feet and stares at you. With a little nudge forward of the tool you stare at the item contemplating. Suddenly you feel your feet ache from hours of standing your brain trying to tell you to go for the faster option in front of you. This is a big incision and the healing rate is quicker if staples are used. Rolling your eyes, your gloved hand stretches out, “staples.”

%%%

You’re sitting down outside the operating rooms, taking your little sterile booties off. You couldn’t help but stare at your scrub nurse, perfect posture at the rolling desk-cart, already chewing his habit gum while charting. You didn’t like how he was telling you what tools you needed in surgery, irritated at each crack of bubble and his sharp jaw clenching at every chew, but you again couldn’t deny how handsome he looked. Picking yourself off the bench grabbing your white coat on the way to Nurse Yeonjun. His hair in his face looking through his eyelashes sees you in front of him all the while a big pink bubble pops. Taking a deep breath for encouragement you ask, “so do you want to grab a drink after the next operation?”

“Thanks for asking but I’m meeting with the other scrub nurses”

“Ah yes you nurses always like to stick together” you say as you pick at the ridges of the desk, annoyed, “and always have to prove themselves better than doctors.”

Another gum bubble pops, Yeonjun leans over the desktop getting closer to you, “Aw does precious not like that I know how to do her job better?”

You straighten your posture trying to look bigger than the man, “That’s doctor to you” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “now nurse I want you to get this surgery prepared in time”

“Well doctor princess, I’ll do that for you if you show your nurses a little more respect.”

You’re shaking of anger at his low judgment, the man smirks looking around the room. Your eyes follow to find out that everybody’s attention is on you two. Yeonjun logs out of the computer, spitting his gum out in the trash, before grabbing your wrist dragging you to the nearest empty on-call room. “W-what are you do-ah” you words interrupted by gasp as Yeonjun pushes you into the door.

“I’ve seen more than your little doctor eyes have seen, I might not have many years of education but I have the experience” Yeonjun spits his words, face so close, one hand on your waist while the other locks the door behind you.

“I’ve gone through years of school to not get orders from a nurse.” The nurse scoffs, “We’ll see about that.”

Yeonjun’s plush lips crash into yours so rushed and harsh your head bangs on the wooden door. He tugs away your scrub cap, unraveling your hair at the same time. You squirm at the feeling of the man’s hands finding their way under all your layers of clothing to rub the soft skin of your waist. Your hands reach up to drag your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair but he was not letting that happen. His big hands grab both arms, pinning them over your head making you squirm more as he grinds his half hard dick against your core.

“I know what you say about me,” you whine out of confusion, his lips grazing yours as he speaks, “words get around fast around here, words like you calling me a man-whore.” You would feel embarrassed but it was hard when his soft lips felt so nice on your neck while his cock so easily felt thanks to the thin material of the scrub pants. “But I know those words don’t mean shit especially when I see you drooling over me,” your half lidded eyes look into his dark ones, “just like that precious, even when you’re in someone else’s heart you look at me like you want me to fuck you right there.”

One hand still pinning your hands as the other slips under your seafoam green pants. His long fingers slip into your panties making your hips jut out. Yeonjun hisses when he feels your smooth slick making it easy to slide a finger in your cunt. Moans muffled by his lips as his fingers stretch you out and curl making your legs weak. So weak that your knees actually buckle, stumbling a bit before catching yourself. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun, “what’s the matter pretty, can’t handle a few fingers in your cunt.”

“I-its the ah- long surgery” you try to deny the fact that the nurse has you melting.

“If that's so, let me put you in a different position.”

Yeonjun’s fingers slip out of your folds to be pushed into his mouth. You’d admire the filthy sight before but his other hand had you whipping around to the uncomfortable cots. The springs squeak as you fall into the cushion, looking up at the man watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth. He tugs the green scrub top over your head, “so a pretty surgeon can’t handle my fingers standing up but she can stand for hours on end, that’s cute,” he kisses your shoulder as his hand unhooks your bra, “wonder if you’ll be able to stand after I’m done with you.”

Your heart rate was pulsating, if you were hooked up to a heart monitor they surely would call an emergency code blue on you. Yeonjun knows it too, studying your body, noticing your rise of breathing rate and his lips on your neck could clearly feel your carotid pulse heightened. Taking your bottoms off, he smiles at the big damp patch on your underwear slipping them off to meet your pants on the floor. “Flip over, ass up,” you do what he said, losing the battle of superiority quickly much to Yeonjun’s surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. Taking off his clothes, he licks his red lips appreciating the sight of your plump ass and pussy patiently waiting for him. His hand slides up your inner thigh, listening closely to your whimpers as his finger tips touch your wet folds once more. You bite your lip trying to stop yourself from telling Yeonjun to do something instead you move your hips against his fingers.

 “Be patient” he hisses as he slaps your cunt, you cry out from the sensitivity, “aren’t good doctors supposed to be patient?” You whine, Yeonjun’s fingers tease your folds making you wetter to the point your dripping down your thighs. His other hand grazes your ass cheek, gripping them to spread you open every now and then. Yeonjun couldn’t deny that you were also one of the most attractive coworkers. He actually has been wanting to see you like this for awhile ever since you caught him during your internship. It was common for doctors to downgrade the nurses and he has learned to ignore it, but he took it as a chance to get you riled up. Looking at your ass then to your face, your neck stretching so your eyes can meet his, pleading, “Please Yeonjun.” Yeonjun reaches next to your head into the drawers knowing all too well that there was a convenient box of condoms in it. You lick your lips watching the man slide the condom on his stiff pink dick. You gasp again when he smacks your ass before positioning himself. Face falling into the flat pillow as Yeonjun pushes his fat cock slowly into you, stretching your hole deliciously, agonizingly.

“Mmm- more” your muffle getting another slap on your cheek. Yeonjun’s head was thrown back relishing in the feeling of your tight pussy around him, “so needy n’ so tight.” His slow movements quicken into your core making the cot’s springs squeak as loud as your moaning, head bobbing as the cheap bed moves in its spot. He leans over pecking your shoulder, “making me think you don’t do this often” he chuckles, “no wonder you’re so tense.”

You felt more tense right now since his dick was pounding harshly into you. Your insides were rearranged so much so you didn’t realize how loud you were being. "Gonna fuck you til you can't even remember your name, let alone operate like you're supposed to." Everything in your body felt like it was burning the stretch of your cunt, the friction of your folds, the teasing rubs of his hands on your ass. Each groan and hiss he made had you clenching around him. You whine, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “J-jun ‘m cummin.”

“Hmm I don’t know if I should let you.” he teases knowing there’s no way you could hold yourself back.

“Please, oh god- please” you scream out stretching your neck again to show your teary eyes. Yeonjun’s eyes roll back loving how fucked you looked. You came on his cock before he could say anything else resulting in Yeonjun thrusting hard to reach his high cumming into the wrap. “Shit” you both say in unison and collapse on the small bed close to its breaking point.

Yeonjun kisses your shoulder once again slipping out of you, throwing away the dirty condom. You rolled onto your back brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. Stunned by a passionate kiss on the lips by Yeonjun, “We should do this again sometime, Doctor.”

“I’ll put that in your orders, Nurse Yeonjun.”

%%%

Later that night Yeonjun stands in the operating room waiting for the surgeon to arrive at the table. He looks over his perfectly placed tools checking yet knowing he has everything in place for the surgery. The quiet room is disturbed by the air tight door opening by the surgeon. You walk in with clean hands, Yeonjun’s eyes scan your form as you dress into a gown and glove. It was dark in the room for the type of surgery but he still noticed the slight limp in your strut. Only he knew why you were in a bit discomfort, well, him and the others that were around the on-call room.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[realcube]

HALLOWEEN COUPLE COSTUMES + hq

oikawa toru

barbie and ken. it's 100% his idea too. ideally he'd want you to go as the default barbie, with the pink dress and heels, while he'd be surfer ken with his shirt off.

nishinoya yuu

walter white and jesse pinkman. the previous year he had went as pitbull nation (rapper pitbull) with tanaka but he wanted to do a couples costume with you instead this year. so going as walter white meant he could reuse his bald cap. the two of you would go as them when they're wearing their yellow scrubs.

kageyama tobio

pro volleyball players...

kuroo tetsuro

regina george and cady heron. your friends refused to go as the plastics so doing it as a couples costume was your next best bet. when you told kuroo you wanted to do a mean girls inspired costume, he assumed you'd be regina and he'd be aaron. but you insisted he go as cady, since they are a more recognisable duo, and he has a hard time saying no to you. on the bright side, he made it work.

sakusa kiyoomi

men in black. low effort but extremely recognisable. he doesn't pose for the photos properly but it's okay because he's serving face anyway.

kenma kuzome

link and zelda. of course it has to be something video game inspired, but also he's lazy and doesn't want to put too much effort into his costume, so link is ideal since he can just buy the whole thing online. but he'd combust when he sees you as princess zelda tbh.

yamaguchi tadashi

taki tachibana and mitsuha miyamizu. he is lowk a sap for romance movies so he'd flip at the idea of getting to dress as one with you. he wouldn't mind putting time into preparing a costume, but the fact he just needs to dress in his school uniform and a wig is definitely plus tbh.

tsukishima kei

marie antoinette and the cake. tsukishima isn't nessecarily lazy but he doesn't care for halloween and therefore doesn't want to spend a lot of time/money on a costume. you suggest hundreds of low effort costume ideas to him and he rejects them everytime but this one resonates with him. especially as it means he gets to carry around and snack on a slice of cake. let them eat cake!

ushijima wakatoshi

mummies. the ancient egyptian kind, not the parental kind. it's impossible to find many costumes that would fit his stature, so your options are extremely limited. in the end you opt to just roll him up in toilet paper and call it a day.

iwaizumi hajime

spartans. you need an excuse for him to show off those athletic trainer muscles 👀

tendou satori

ringmaster and circus clown. it's up to you which one you'd rather be because he really doesn't mind. on one hand he thinks it would be awesome to dress up as a clown but also he'd love to see you as one, that would be so cute. plus he could definitely rock a red tailcoat.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. mention of injury to reader and bruises from a mission (reader is a teacher), established friendship btw reader and nanami, slightly angsty and hurt/comfort. wc 1.6k

divider by my beloved @/cafekitsune

“Nanami told me that he thinks I’m vain today.”

Standing at Satoru’s side in your bathroom, the mirror still foggy from the shower the two of you just finished, you stop dabbing a cream around your eye under the assumption the fancy shit listed on the box will help brighten the appearance of the rapidly darkening bruise on your face.

You took a solo mission today, something that was meant to be small and quick while he took care of your students, and instead he ended up hauling you home after an afternoon spent in Shoko’s office getting the scrapes across your shoulder and neck looked at. You exorcized the curse but not without taking damage of your own.

Turning to look at the man who leans on the counter beside you, it’s hard not to sigh with a tinge of melancholy. The irony of him, in his near marble-like perfection, asking you, trying to stave off a black eye you should have just let Shoko fix instead of calling it a waste of her abilities, isn’t lost on you in the moment so you snort and shake your head, wiping your fingers on the soft towel next to you.

“I think we all are. I know for a fact Kento can be vain so maybe he shouldn’t give you too hard of a time.” Gojo chuckles and you smile in return, putting the jar down on the counter and looking up at him. “Why did he say that? What were you guys talking about?”

“You. That mission.”

His eyes flit to the darkness around your orbital socket, the yellow turning maroon turning purple, and he wrinkles his nose. The only reason it was brought up between the two men was out of concern for you, Nanami upset that you went on the mission alone to return injured, and the conversation became terse as soon as Satoru joked about your bruises.

“You’re so vain it would be admirable if it weren’t disgusting,” Nanami tutted at his colleague while swinging the door to Shoko’s exam room open to see you sitting with your legs swinging off of the edge of the examination table. They both gasped when you turned to look at them, eye swollen shut.

“What about me and the mission?” You mutter in the present, water droplets still covering your shoulders. It’s not news to you that your pseudo boyfriend and your best friend may discuss you on occasion but you bristle at anyone potentially questioning your ability to take care of yourself. It is one of the things the two men know about you with utmost certainty. “I handled it.”

Satoru chuckles and scrubs his hand over his face, raking his fingers through his still damp hair.

“You have a black eye that can’t be hidden no matter how much of that crap you dab on it and I healed a paper cut on myself an hour ago.”

Smiling, you lean and press your cheek into his bare arm and the cool skin feels nice against your sore and hot face. You idly twist the cap of your cream back and forth, looking at your reflections in the mirror in front of you, shocked by the stark difference in your own roughed up face and the near perfection standing next to you. You quickly look away and he notices, glancing down to watch your face twist into something he’s afraid will be upsetting if he thinks about it for more than a passing moment. Clearing your throat, you gaze back up at him but not in the mirror, putting your smile back into place.

“Do you think you heal yourself because of vanity, though? I think you do it just because you can.”

He tilts his head to the side and you move away from him slightly only to be pulled back against his side with his arm draping over your shoulders. Can’t get away so easily now and he shrugs.

“What else would it be?”

You wrap your arms around Satoru’s waist and gently run your fingernails along his side, light pink tracks left behind in your wake. He raises a brow and you hum, as if you’re a scientist taking notes about their experiment. A few beats pass and the scratches have turned into something deeper red and angry. You soothe the scratches with your fingertips and he stays still, pinned to where he’s standing by your touch.

“If you were vain you would have already healed those. It would take like one one thousandth of your power to do that.”

He laughs. It’s hard to argue your point when the scratches grow more red with every passing second. They don’t hurt, of course, and he keeps his Infinity off when you are near and he “ahh’s” to himself softly when he realizes where your line of thinking is carrying both of you. You smile and squeeze him.

“It isn’t about vanity, Satoru, it’s about untouchability. If there isn’t a visible scratch on you is it possible to even leave one?”

“You know better than anyone that it’s possible to leave one,” his eyes dart to the red covering his side that is slowly fading into pink and will soon be gone.

“Yeah, only because you want me to.”

You watch the marks disappear before your very eyes, still refusing to glance at your own reflection and witness how bad the bruise around the left one really is. Caffeine cream can’t fix this one.

“And how about you, tough guy? What about that thing?”

All you can do is shrug in response to his questions. Satoru brings his fingers to your face and gently traces the corner of your eye. It’s still a little tender and you hiss but he doesn’t move, cupping the side of your face in his large palm.

“Maybe I want people to think I’m untouchable too.”

“With a giant shiner?”

You laugh, shifting your face and pressing your nose into his side and his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head.

“Being untouchable is different for both of us. People know you are and want to see it first hand so you can’t walk around with a bruise the size of a grapefruit.” He raises his eyebrows and nods, gaze still fixed on where you hide your face in his side. “I can and it’ll make everyone think I’m tough.”

“So tough you can’t even look at yourself?”

You scoff and unbury your face, looking up at him with a scowl. The bruise has darkened significantly and he resists the urge to reach out and touch it again, fascinated and horrified all at once that this happened to you to begin with. Maybe he should have gone with you. Maybe you need more training, to be better at keeping your guard up (something you are notoriously terrible at) or maybe it was just a slip of your attention while distracted by other things.

Sneaking a glance at yourself in the mirror, you can’t glance for more than a moment but whatever emotion it evokes you hide, swallowing thickly and half smiling up at your boyfriend.

“It’ll go away in a couple of days, you don’t have to worry about me.”

He hums, unconvinced of your words.

For Satoru, seeing the swollen flesh is a reminder of how vulnerable you are. It horrifies him how easily you can be hurt and how much worse things could have been and how he’s so out of touch with his own vulnerability at times that yours is something he joked about as if he hadn’t said goodbye to loved ones in Shoko’s exam room before.

“I will always worry about you no matter what,” he admits with a defeated sigh.

Turning his body so that he can envelop you in his arms and hold you against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His arms feel gentle around you, full of careful affection, and you wrap your arms around his waist and drop the act for a few minutes.

“It was scary today,” you admit and he kisses your forehead again, his grip tightening.

“I know. I know it was and I’m sorry I wasn-“

You shush him with a sharp hiss and he looks down at you, wet hair flopping over his nose and eyes and dripping down into your face. This makes you laugh which in turn makes him do the same despite the seriousness of the moment and suddenly, things feel okay for both of you.

“Don’t apologize to me for that Satoru, I’m not your responsibility. I can handle myself even if I slip up sometimes.”

The laughter tapers off quickly with your words and he doesn’t speak for a moment for fear of saying the wrong thing. He knows you’re capable of a multitude of things but keeping you safe is his responsibility.

“I love you.”

Because he loves you. All he’s feeling right now can be summed up with those three words so he chooses to speak none additional, watching a smile spread across your face. You rise to your tiptoes to press your lips against his, fingers finding the base of his neck and resting there. The kisses are lazy and slow and precious, especially after the scare you had.

“Even with the giant shiner?”

Backing away from him, you smile and rest your chin between his pecs, arms still wrapped around his waist. He chuckles and cups your face in his big palms, gently kissing the skin at the edge of your bruise.

“Are you joking? Even more.”

You smile and gently massage the base of his spine with your thumbs, smoothing through the dimples that rest right above where the towel sits on his hips. Gojo smirks, chuckling to himself and pulling you closer to him until no space remains between your bodies. He reaches for your face and touches your warm skin with his thumb, shaking his head.

“I love you even more, baby.”

[mee3pp]

Farm house Pt 2

Pricesduaghter!reader x Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Cw: swearing, over protective father

Farm house Pt 2

“Ay I wasn’t thinkin’ bout anything Cap” Soap says throwing his hands in the air in defeat. But John MacTavish was not a man who gave up easy, Price knew what. “I’m serious MacTavish, if I catch ya messing with ma’ daughter I’ll make you regret it” Price says lowly hoping his point gets past Soaps thick skull.

You skip back into the room in what you deemed a more appropriate shirt. A baggy off the shoulder t shirt that didn’t show nearly as much cleavage as before. Price smiles at you clearly approving of your new shirt, not that he would ever dare to tell you to change your father can fight after all. He just can’t stand watching Soap ogle you. “I just put a roast in the oven there should be enough for all of you but I’m taking you all eat as much as my father?” You tease as you tie the pretty frilly lavender apron back around your waist.

“Sounds lovely, I’m sure the boys can refrain from stuffing their faces for one night” Price smiles as he ruffles your hair which earns an annoyed pout from you. He made your hair messy after all, you spent an eternity wrestling with it this morning as it just wouldn’t cooperate.

Your dad takes his boys into the lounge room with beers and a glass of bourbon for Ghost. His own bottle of course, it was only sensible for him to have one here as he stayed all the time. You stay in the kitchen chopping some vegetables and bread for the boys to go with dinner. You prepare a fuck load as it is presumed they all eat as much as your dad, which is a ton. Seriously it’s almost impossible how much he eats.

6:30 pm

"dinners up!" Your sweet and warm voice calls out, despite the warmth and friendliness your voice carries the same authority as your father. The boys hastily get up and head to the dining table. the dinner is prettily arranged on some fancy plates and some fancy napkins, you smile as they all sit down borderline drooling over the food and after a glare from Price they all mumble a quick "thanks".

"didn't av' to break out th' fancy plates sweets" Your father smiles as he and the others dig into their food. "we av' guests that's what th' fancy plates are for ?" You retort your british accent thick and rough just like your fathers. "eh, ya av' a fair point" Price shrugs and tucks back into his food. "this is fuckin' good lass" Soap mumbles through mouth fulls of food which earns a small chuckle from you and a frown from your father. "watch ya language Soap" Price grumbles and he earns an annoyed scoff from Soap in response.

"yer soundin’ like me mam" Soap jabs back at Price the tension between the two men is thick. so thick you could walk on it like a bridge; Ghost rolls his eyes and Gaz chuckles at the two soldiers' silent argument. A simple "Dad" with the right amount of harshness coming from you is all it took for Price to let it go, only for the moment but it was something. If the others were honest they'd say how uncanny the similarities are between you and your father, the same blue eyes and dark hair and not to mention the way your presence demands the whole attention of the room when you want it.

"Simon and Soap you both are washin' dishes with me come on" You command as you clear the table efficiently. Neither of the boys complain about washing dishes, maybe it was their discipline and training or the wrath of their Captain that was holding back their complaints. You fill the sink with hot soapy water and you start to scrub dishes not before throwing a towel at both Soap and Ghost, getting Ghost in the face and Soap in the chest. “Bitch” Ghost mumbles and he smacks you on the back of the head and it earns a confused frown from Soap. The frown is quickly wiped away as you mutter back at Simon “grumpy asshole” and you flip him off before starting to wash the dishes.”Ya getting Christmas off Simon?” You ask your voice full of warmth and familiarity as you talk to the big man. “Depends if we’re busy, why? Ya lookin’ forward to seeing me?” Simon teases with a small smirk, you shake your head and scoff “nah was checkin’ when i needed to book me plane tickets out of th’ country to avoid ya” you jab back as you place a wet plate on the bench to be dried. Soap raises an eyebrow in confusion. “You stay ere’ all th’ time Ghost?” Soap questions and he can’t help the slip of distaste in his voice. “Nah not all th’ time i’d go mad, just a few times through th’ year Johnny” Simon chuckles his gravely voice carries through the kitchen. “Few times my ass you’re always bloody ere’ can’t fuckin’ get rid of ya” you scoff and place another plate on the bench to be washed.

10:30pm

“Tsk tsk thought i told ya to stop smokin?” your father sighs as he walks to you as you stand outside in the warm summer air on the deck. “Thought i told ya i’m an adult? I’m 28 if i wanna get lung cancer i can” you scoff but there’s a hard to miss smile on your pretty face. “Ya gonna turn into Ghost if ya keep it up” Price chuckles and he pats you on the head. “Ugh guess i’ll quit now” You giggle as you stamp out your finished cigarette. “Sweets” Your dad says in a more serious tone. “Ya?” you hum back reluctantly as you have a feeling as to where this is going. “Can ya do me a favour? Stay away from Soap don’t go getting feelings mixed with him” Price gruffs out which earns an annoyed groan and a scoff from you. “Oi don’t gimme that attitude i’m just lookin out for ya, i don't need Soap ruinin’ my Daughter” Your father dares to continue which only serves to piss you off more.

You storm off back inside huffing and puffing, with the occasional curse towards your father. “Stupid old bitch… think ya can control me?” you mumble. “Who's controlin’ you?” the all too familiar gruff and gravelly voice hums. “Fuckin John” you huff out as you look up at Simon, he raises an eyebrow at you its quite entertaining afterall you having a tantrum. “Thinks he can stick his fuckin’ nose into my love life” you huff pouting up at Simon. “Who’s he tellin’ you to stay away from this time?” Simon prods even though he knows full well who your father is telling you to stay away from. “That is none of your business mr nosey” you sigh before walking off towards the kitchen to stress bake of course because what else should you do? Simon of course trails behind you like the nosey bitch he is. He likes to pretend he doesn’t live for the drama and gossip that goes on in the world around him, it’s his guilty pleasure.

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@tabbslouuformer

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Four.

We pick up right where we left off on the last part.

Warnings: talks of killing people, usual strip club stuff. Can y'all guess who the mysterious men are?

WC: 1.083 words. This one is on the shorter side, sorry :(

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

After this eventful night, you really need to take a good bath. Scrubbing your skin clean of everything that has to do with Noah Sebastian and his friends. Hoping that in the process you're able to scrub him from your mind as well.

As you push yourself off the door you closed a few minutes ago, you make your way over to the couch to make sure everything is in order and not one drop of blood was dropped on it. You notice that your notepad you have on your side table is open and your pen has been thrown on top of it.

Deciding to inspect it further, you see a number written on it and a note right under that said "in case you need me, don't hesitate to call. Noah". You stare at the note for a good three minutes. Deciding you don't need anymore of this tonight, you rip the paper from the notepad and slip it in the side pocket of your work bag.

You know. Just in case you actually need it.

It was supposed to be an uneventful night. Until Ava told you that one of the girls came down with the flu and she really needed you to work the tables and entertain the patrons. You usually wouldn't do this, deciding that this aspect of your job was behind you a while ago. But you really couldn't take anymore of her begging.

Looking around the room, you noticed that it wasn't so crowded. People were scattered around the bar and tables, and the section you were supposed to cover only had a few people. Walking around, you waited for someone to flag you down to either request a drink, or ask you to sit down and make them some company.

You passed by a table with with around five or six people, when you heard a man calling for you.

"Hey, beautiful. Why don't you grab a drink for me and one for yourself and join us?" You looked at him, he had brown eyes and soft curls on his head.

"Of course, honey. What would you like?" You put on your nicest face and voice. Part of this was working their ego to the max, pretending that you were actually interested in whatever they wanted to offer you for the time.

"I'll take an old fashioned", you told him you would be back in a minute with both of your drinks. You sauntered your way to the bar and you could feel his eyes on you.

You decided to grab yourself a mimosa, not intending on getting drunk on the job, and you still had to drive home. You went back with the drinks, noticing there was a space for you to sit down, so that is what you did.

The curly haired man kept his arm around your shoulder, and as they conversed, you pretended to be interested in something else. They always wanted company, but they didn't want anyone meddling in their bussiness. You knew the kind of patrons that attended the club, meeting Noah was an example of that.

You couldn't help but tune into their conversation while you sipped on your drink.

"I swear they're fucking pissing me off, man. I almost had one of them last night, but I couldn't get a good shot at him", said one of them, he was wearing a cap on his head, but you could tell he was bald. This caught your attention, but they couldn't be talking about what you were thinking.

"We gotta have patience. Pretty boy is gonna have what he deserves in due time", the man beside you said.

"What we have in store for them is going to shock everyone", they collectively laughed, but you kept your composure.

"And after that, Noah Sebastian is just going to be an afterthought in the city of New York". You were trying really hard not to let the shake in your hands show, that is why you decided to set your drink on the table. You mulled over his words, a million thoughts running through your head.

The hand that was on your shoulder moved down to circle around your waist. You were hoping that they would be done soon, otherwise he would notice how cold and sweaty your hands were. Thoughts of this man hurting (or killing, you know that is what they were implying) Noah, completely frightened you. At this point you really couldn't deny you cared for him to some level.

The man tapped your waist twice, a sign that you were free to go. As you were standing up, you grabbed your drink, turning around to face them and saying "it was really nice meeting you, gentleman. I'm sure I'll see you around". You made sure to commit their faces to memory, since you didn't have any names.

"The pleasure was all ours, beautiful".

You made an enormous effort to smile, turning around and leaving. You whispered to one fo your friends that you needed to go to the bathroom, asking her if she could cover your tables. You tried to walk on a normal pace, but as soon as got to the back and into the dressing rooms, you ran to your bag, grabbing the note you slipped there the night prior.

As you looked at it, you weighted your options. You could tell him about this other men's plans, or you could leave him in the dark, risking his and his friend's lives. You decided to text him a simple message.

I'm sure you know who this is, I guess you already have my number. I need you to come to the club at 9pm and meet me in the same room as last time. I'll tell them you're coming.

You waited a couple of seconds, and his response came through.

I'll be there. Is everything alright?

You appreciated his concern. But it wasn't you he should be concerned about.

For now, yes.

After this, you put your phone and paper back inside your bag. You found Ava and told her you had a really important client booked for 9pm, and she told you she would have one of the girls cover you.

As you went back to the main room, you noticed that the men from earlier were already gone. Looking at your watch you saw you had one hour until Noah was supposed to be here. You just hoped you weren't too late.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @darling-millicent-aubrey @mostlypanicking @thisbicc @rebelheart90 @moranastray @xmads-omensx @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @skyemanzsstuff @theroyaldixon @mindlesssweets @dravenskye

If you want to be tagged on the next parts, please let me know!

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[late-to-the-party-81]

here’s a little challenge for you: steve + bucky + reader + one bed. make what you want of it hehe 😇 congrats on 1k, jen! <3

In the middle of the night

AN: Another day, and once again, beds appear to be in short supply. Thank you for this thot, Lyn!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: What’s worse than sharing a motel room with the supersoldier boyfriends you have a crush on? Having to share a bed with them.

Relationship: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Smidge Angst, Minor miscommunication, pining, teasing, implied smut about to commence.

“Guys, I’ll just take the sofa. I’ll manage.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince them or yourself. It didn’t work though; Bucky just looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“Really,doll? You might be shorter than us, but you’re not that short.”

He was right, of course. At 5ft 10 you were far too tall for most sofas let alone the one in the room of this ratty motel. 

“What do you suggest then? That we all sleep in that?” You nodded your head at it. It being the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

Steve looked up from where he was rummaging through his go bag.

“Seems like the only sensible option to me. Normally we’d offer to sleep on the floor, but…” He eyed what passed for a carpet in the room. You had to agree with him. The chances were that anything placed upon it for any length of time would be carried off by the roaches that were probably living in it. You shuddered at the thought and repressed a gag.

“Well as long as you two keep the mushy stuff to a minimum, I suppose. It’s bad enough when I’ve shared a room with you both before and you’re being all cuddly and shit. Makes a single girl sick.” This time your gag was for comedic effect.

Bucky grinned at you, and in two strides was next to you, arm slung around your shoulder, giving you a slight squeeze.

“Are you just jealous in general, or jealous of one of us, specifically. Wouldn’t blame you; we are both hot.”

“You wish!” You pulled a face and shoved him away. “Now go get a shower, Barnes. You smell of swamp.”

He pouted back, but his light blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Me! What about Stevie! And you, doll. We all fell in that water.”

“Yeah, but you’ve still got swamp weed in your hair.”

You reached up and plucked the offending piece of flora from his chestnut locks then, feeling impish, threw it at Steve. It landed on his shoulder, but he just turned on ‘the Captain glare’ as you and Bucky started giggling like children.

An hour later you were finishing off in the small, and frankly disgusting, bathroom. 

Bucky had used it first, scurrying in to escape Steve’s overdramatic ire and you had gone in search of food. When you got back Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his sweats and rubbing his hair dry with a threadbare towel. You threw bags full of food for your two enhanced teammates onto the coffee table.

“Cap in the shower?”

“Yeah - he won’t be too long. I’ve known that guy to have a full shower in less than 2 minutes. And after all these years, I’m still not sure how he does it.”

True to Bucky’s, Steve had stepped out just then, clad in his own sweats, short blond hair sticking up from where he’d given it a quick scrub. Gathering your own wash things and clean clothes to sleep in, you’d slipped around him, trying to ignore the loving look Bucky was throwing at his boyfriend.

Luckily there was enough hot water left for you. The boys wouldn’t have heard the end of it otherwise.

Returning to the bedroom, you mentally prepared yourself for an awful night’s sleep.It was bad enough that you were, once again, sharing a room with two men you had massive crushes on - who only had eyes for each other, this time you’d also be squished on the same bed, no doubt clinging onto the edge of the mattress and trying not to fall out.

The two supersoldiers were already lying in the bed, eyes closed, Bucky being the little spoon to Steve’s big one. They were scootched over so far that you were worried that Steve was about to drop off his side. Gingerly you climbed into the remaining space, your back to Bucky, and you switched off the small lamp they’d left on for you.

Moonlight shone through the thin curtains, casting weak shadows. You tried to relax but found yourself just staring at the strange shapes thrown on the wall in front of you. You could hear both of them breathing. 

Slow. 

Steady. 

Completely fake.

Bucky shifted behind your back, his arm brushing over your ass and hip. If he had been asleep you could have believed it to be accidental. It settled across your waist, a copy of how you imagined Steve’s was lying over his.

“Um…Buck?” You whispered out of habit. “What are you doing?”

“‘S not a lot of space, doll. We need to cosy up, so you and Stevie don’t fall out.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s also like a radiator, sweetheart. And we’ve noticed you don’t like to get cold. Just go with it.” Great. Now Steve was joining in.

“It just feels… you know… weird.” Something about the darkness was making you feel braver than you had in a while. Although that bravery started to wane slightly when Bucky shuffled even closer and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Whaddya mean ‘weird’? I think it feels nice.”

You flipped over to face him, despite the fact that there was so little light it made the gesture pointless. You were getting frustrated. Both emotionally and sexually.

“Bucky. Your boyfriend is right there, cuddling you, but apparently cuddling me is nice. And for some reason Steve is fine with it.”

The shadows behind Bucky shifted; Steve lifting his head.

“Wanna know why I’m fine with it?”

“Cos you’re secure in your and Bucky’s relationship, and you know this is just practical?”

He chuckled, low and deep, and boy did the sound do things to you. Oh, god! How keen were his senses? Would he be able to smell your arousal?

“Well, yes, but also, no…”

Before you could question him, Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist and suddenly he flipped you both, placing you in the middle of the bed, wedged between him and Steve. Your hands were pressed up against Steve’s chest, his coarse chest hairs tickling your palms. Bucky’s hand was splayed against your stomach, keeping you in place, pressed against him.

“What the hell?”

“We realised something, doll.” Bucky was practically purring in your ear. His hips pressed up against your ass and…oh!

“W-what’s that?” You could barely breathe, frozen rigid in the bed, afraid to move.

Steve wiggled down the bed in front of you, so that your hands were on his shoulders and both your faces were level.

“That you aren’t jealous of either of us when Buck and I are being affectionate. You’re jealous of both of us. You’ve got the hots for both of us.”

You scowled, hoping that despite the low light he could see your annoyance.

“So, what? You decided you’d both tease me. Thanks so much.” You shuffled violently and sat up, kicking off the last part of the coverlet. You pushed up on your knees, but Steve copied you, effectively blocking you.

“We’re not teasing you, sweetheart. Let me finish. Please.”

The bed dipped behind you; Bucky getting to his knees too. Your head was a swirl of emotions. Confusion, want, frustration, and something that might have been hope. Steve took hold of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your knuckles.

“We’re trying to tell you… we’ve got the hots for you too.”

“Majorly,” Bucky interjected. “It’s been torture these last few months. Fighting beside you. Sharing a room. You, being so close, but not attainable.” You could feel the heat radiating off him and all you wanted to do was relax back onto his firm chest. And you wanted to believe what they were apparently telling you.

Steve tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t begin to imagine how Buck and I have been when we’ve got back to our apartment at the compound after missions with you. How we’ve been so wound up, so goddamn horny thinking about you. Thank goodness for sound-proofing. I think we’ve fucked each other seven ways from Sunday everytime.”

Bucky had moved again; regained his previous spot plastered against your back. Both his hands were settled on your waist, just above your hips. He dipped his head, and his hair brushed your neck before his lips settled just below your ear. Testing you.

“Do you want us, doll?” His lips trailed down your neck and you tilted it to bare your throat to him. Your busy mind had cleared. Now only the want remained. Bucky and Steve were pressed against you in the moonlight, surrounding you with their scent and promising you pleasure. All you had to do was answer.

“Yes!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

[deathmybride]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ the earth from a distance | andrew hozier-byrne *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: andrew hozier-byrne x fem!oc

warnings: references to death, alienation

summary: Gráinne moved to Dunbur to escape her past, to live quietly and write, and wallow in all the grief she had acquired. Andrew has other ideas…

word count: 3663

a/n: dedicated to my beloved @ath3nasgard3n who came with me to see bogfather in concert and held me while I SOBBED to Abstract (Psychopomp), even though she had never listened to hozier before that night.

Also, the setting for this fic is the Old Wicklow Head Lighthouse in Dunbur, which is now a BnB that you can stay in.

How to pronounce Gráinne and Máire

It began, as all good love stories should, with the death of a stranger. This time, it was the old lady who lived in the disused lighthouse by the battered shore, dying as the leaves turned to copper. I had lived in Dunbur for almost a year by that time, I never saw the heather part for any cars that might wind along the gravel path to the sea- but, then again, I was not watching for them. Either way, Lady, my poor MX5 was not built for such terrain and I could feel the scrub catching in sods under her chassis all the way down to the grass flat that had been designated as parking.

My gumboots squelched on the sopping turf as I hopped out, squinting at the pallid sun that tried so hard to reach me through the permanent duvet of cloud. It was a nice day by County Wicklow standards, no rain, minimal mist, and nearly, nearly sunny. The only reason to rug up was the damn wind billowing off the sea. I caught a gaggle of county gents eyeing Lady with appraisal while their wives loaded their cars with salvaged kitsch.

“She’s a beauty.” Mr Mulligan, the butcher- the most confident of the group- spoke up, peering out from beneath his tweed flat-cap with a face far too chipper for an estate sale.

“Ta.” I nod in thanks. “She’s old enough to order a pint.”

“What year?”

“‘99.”

“Ah, excellent year.” He said. I supposed it would be true if cars were like wine. “You’re a fine driver to get her up the back ass of nowhere, o’er all this shite.”

“Ta, just dumb luck, I reckon.” I moved to step away, but he cut in closer.

“We got ‘em lil’ cutlets in at the shop, I know they’re your favourite.”

“Ah, ya can’t fuckin’ get a word outta this one without him sellin’ ya some gobshite.” Mr Ronan, the newsagent spoke up with a roll of his eyes.

“Ahh, rev up ya bastard!” He aimed a light smack at his friend, and soon they were in playful fighting stances.

I took their rough-housing as my cue to retreat, finding their high spirits quite macabre and feeling grateful that the old lady’s family could not see them over the shallow rise.

The sale itself took place over the hillock and down in a scoop of grass a little ways away from the lighthouse. The townsfolk picked over fold-out camping tables laden with knickknacks and books, and a sparse supply of farm equipment and furniture on tarps nearby. I resolved to steer clear of there since Lady wasn’t known for her boot space, and I did not feel like calling in a favour from someone with an appropriate vehicle for the countryside. There was a dull hum of conversation hanging over the scene, and as I approached I must have murmured ‘hello’ and forced a smile for half a dozen of my regular customers. A few young men in black coats seemed to be dealing with the sales; grandsons of the deceased, I assumed.

I started with the books, finding a Folio Society copy of The Divine Comedy for a relative bargain,and- to my surprise- a few of Anne Rice’s Christian novels. I had little luck with anything else and was about to give up and go home, but something more caught my eye. It was a teddy bear with fur like lush, green grass. It had a curious face, with dark eyes and wide, brown nose that matched the brown on its paw-pads. Around its neck were four bells on a chain, each a different autumnal shade. Immediately taken by him, and spying a toddler staring at him with hungry eyes and grubby hands, I decided I couldn’t live without him and snaffled him up. The bells jingled pleasantly, and the fur was silky in my hands.

“Alright?” Someone sidled in beside me- Sue- the dumpy older woman who worked at the dingy smoke-and-gun shop down the street from the cafe where I worked.

“Hi.”

“Quer’n windy out, ain’t it?” Her eye contact was intense and probing.

“Aye.” I kept it brief. Once you got her talking, she wasn’t likely to stop.

“Cute.” She pointed to the bear, raising her brows. Her curiosity read phoney. “Bairns at home?”

“No. He’s for me.” I giggled in embarrassment, but she did not appear to be listening.

“Look at all this shite, would ya?” She picked up an admittedly hideous angelfish paperweight made of blue glass, sneering. “Hard to imagine such a proper woman would fill her gaff with this much cheap junk.”

“Mm.”

“You couldn’t move in that place for all the stuff.”

“You been in there, then?” Shit, she’s got me asking questions...

“Well,” She fiddled with her straw-blonde pageboy hair, suddenly self-conscious. “No, but you know that’s what its like, I mean look at it all.”

“Mmhm.”

“You know, I sold her fags.” She lifted her chin, prideful, yet almost disapproving. “Seven packs, each week on a Tuesday.”

“Maybe that’s what got her.”

I regretted the words as soon as they escaped my mouth, smiled tightly at her aghast expression and made a run for one of the young men dressed in black. This was a sad town, I reminded myself. A sad town, with sad gossip, and sad old ladies who die alone in bleak, majestic places full of items haunted by memory. What do I care if Sue starts spreading rumours?

The man served me quickly, seeming distracted. I wished him well and expressed sorrow for his loss. He thanked me in a robotic way, as if this were the hundredth time he was hearing those sentiments that day, and gave me a paper bag for my books. I took my cue to leave, hiking up over the rise to my car. As I went, my eyes strayed to the lighthouse. It burst up from the earth like the trunk of an enormous tree, though it lacked the natural curvature of wood, instead taking the form of an eight-sided prism. Ringed around the top was a deck with a railing just visible from such a distance. My feet slowed, suddenly intrigued by the memory held within the stones. I cast about a furtive glance. Nobody around, and all the patrons out of sight behind the slope. A closer look couldn’t hurt anyone, could it? Without another thought, I made a break for it, trying to walk swiftly without appearing to be hurrying in case the eyes I felt boring into me were not just a figment of my active imagination.

The gorse and heather grew all the way up to the base of the structure, which stretched high up above me in six tapering sections. I tilted my head back, I shielding my eyes against the glare. It was so tall, yet not even the domed top could scratch at the clouds. It was too windy to see the mist settle low enough to swallow the top, yet the idea of such a sight was glorious in my mind’s eye, like a tower from a fable. I wandered around the base, picking my way across the brush, until I came to the door. It was enormous and fortified, and appeared to be locked. I pushed on it hard, expecting nothing, but it swung in with a creak and a great feeling of resistance.

The surprise drew a gasp from my lips as I slipped inside. The inside seemed tiny in comparison, with low ceilings yellowed by years of indoor smoking. The inner walls were rounded, rough with crackled plaster and faded yellow wallpaper hanging off in sloughs. The air smelt of mildew and damp, and I noticed that the window at the rear was open in an attempt to flush out the smell. I crept over, laying my feet lightly. There was a book laying face down on the sill and a pair of reading glasses folded beside them. A chill ran over me at the realisation that these people may still be using this space.

Get out of here Gráinne, what the hell are you doing? I scolded myself internally as I abandoned my package of books and made a beeline for the stairs. You stupid woman, they’re gonna catch you! Sue’s probably told them all you spit on their grandmother’s memory by now!

The stairs ran openly up the walls of each floor, and I found myself gripping the iron railing as I climbed. They creaked and popped as they took my weight, the sound amplified by the empty stone interior. I saw that the second and third floors were as empty as the first, each showing signs of water damage and decay. The fourth floor was home to a frankly enormous four-poster bed that took up almost the whole room. The fifth floor appeared to be a bathroom, while the sixth was a kitchen. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top, and I had counted 109 steps from the ground floor.

As I bent over, holding my knees while I caught my breath, I noticed that in the corner there was a pull-down attic style door that hung open invitingly. It looked a tad rickety, and the fact that it was open at all should have read as suspicious, but the climb had taken a good five minutes and I’d be damned if I would leave without seeing the view from the very top. Gritting my teeth, I took the final climb, white-knuckling the rail as I popped my head out into the brightness. The wind howled against my ears, cutting through my beanie. I blinked my dry eyes against it, peering through my lashes and rubbing furiously against the sting.

“Hello, miss.”

Such a cheerful voice had never struck such terror in a person. A shock like falling galvanised my blood and before I had time to register what had happened, I had sprinted backwards down the stairs and stood frozen at the bottom. A beat passed, then he appeared, kneeling at the top of the trap door like a gargoyle: a young man with a soft face and a nest of dark hair poking out from beneath a knitted beanie. He seemed to be suppressing a smile, and when he spoke, it burst across his face with a giggly laugh.

“I see you down there.”

“Sorry!” I blurted out. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He put a hand over his heart in an old-fashioned gesture of sincerity. “I didn’t mean to frighten ya.”

“N-no, I shouldn’t be up here anyway, I…”

“Well, strictly speaking, no you shouldn’t. But I left the door unlocked, and if it wasn’t you, it would be someone else.” He tilted his head, offering a kinder smile than I deserved. “You’re not in trouble.”

“I-” I took a deep breath, trying to swallow my stutter. “Thank you for… understanding.”

He shrugged.

“S’alright. People get curious. It’s not like there’s much left to steal, anyways. Unless you think you can get that bed frame down the stairs.”

“I-I don’t think I could, no.” A nervous giggle found its way into my voice.

“Alas, neither can the movers. She’s a beauty though, ain’t she? Though I think I’ll have to burn some sage before I sleep in it. I’m not the creepiest thing in this place, I’ll tell you what. Banshees and spooks in every corner.” He seemed amused at my wide-eyed confusion. “You may need to sage the bear too. I think I see Aunt Máire’s ghost peepin’ out through its beady eyes.”

“Right…” He raised an eyebrow as I held the bear close to my chest.

“Sorry, I’m just messin.’”

“I know.” I said quickly, taking a tentative step back, eyeing the stairs. “Well, I’m gonna…”

“What? You’re not coming up?”

���I-I shouldn’t. I’ve already basically broken in.”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, his smile almost exasperated. “You’ve climbed all this way, surely come out and have a look. I don’t mind, I promise. I’m invitin’ ya.”

In that moment it occurred to me that this was a stranger- albeit a kindly and handsome one, but a stranger nonetheless- and we were in a very secluded spot. He could be anyone. He could want anything. I felt my phone pressing on my leg from my jeans pocket. He put his hand up in surrender.

“I won’t twist your arm about it, but the door is open if you like. I’ll let you get on, or would you like me to walk you back down?”

“No.” I left myself no more time to think on it. After all, it was the middle of the day, and the folk at the sale could see us standing by the railing. “I’ll come up. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

He moved aside obligingly, offering a hand to help me up. It seemed rude not to accept such an offering, and I could not say I regretted it. His hands were huge and soft, his grip firm but gentle. He kept hold of me for a beat longer than he needed, meeting my gaze with eyes narrowed against the glare. He was gorgeous up close, with down turned moss-green eyes that resembled those of a creature far older than any human, half hidden beneath thick, dark lashes. He smiled as he stood up, and as my stare dropped to his cherub lips I noticed his close cropped beard was auburn in the watery sunlight. He rose up, and up, and up, and soon he was towering over me like a beech tree.

“Wow, you’re tall.” I had to shout over the roaring wind.

He laughed. A husky sound that made his shoulders shake.

“Aw, and you’re such a tiny ting, I feel like I owe you a couple inches.” Instantly, he blushed. “That’s not what I- uh- oh, forget it.”

He tore off his beanie and buried his face in it. Bubbling up from the depths of me, for reasons unknown, was some of my old sense of humour.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Ugh, inappropriate, missy!” He swatted at me with his beanie, then sniffed in mock offence. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Hey! You’re the one who started on about all your inches…”

“And I do have a few.”

“See what I mean? Unbelievable.”

He rolled his eyes, then contained himself no longer and let loose his infectious laughter. Soon enough, I was in bits. When we could both hold a straight face, he leaned in and offered me a handshake.

“I’m Andrew, by the way.”

“Gráinne.”

“Gráinne” He leaned in as he spoke, the sound softening as it passed through his mouth. The ‘r’ rolled gently like the crest of a wave into the breathy final syllable, and the name I once found so masculine and harsh sounded like a prayer to my ears. “Borrowed name for an English girl.”

“Not borrowed,” I sniffed, suddenly protective of the name I once considered an unflattering mouthful, and embarrassed at my obvious lack of an accent. “I’m a quarter Irish on my father’s side, if you believe in splitting yourself into fractions. It’s my great grandmother’s name.”

“I apologise for my rudeness.” Again, he put his hand on his heart. I had to stand close to hear his soft tone as the gale whipped my face. “I was only surprised. Gráinne isn’t such a common name these days, which is a shame ‘cause I find it quite beautiful. Do you speak any Gaeilge?”

I shook my head, heat marring my cheeks.

“If you fancy learning, I’m your man. These courses…” He shook his head. “They teach you how to speak it, but they can’t help you with the feeling.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I would be lying to myself if I denied the thrill of excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to know him in some small way.

“I certainly hope so.” He took a step back and gestured broadly. “Such a view is surely incentive enough.”

I looked around, realising that in my fascination with this sprite of a man, I had failed to take in my surroundings. One one side, the prairie hills rolled gently out toward the horizon, marbled in a thousand shades of green, brown, bronze, even pink and yellow where the gorse and wildflowers grew dense through the grass. Clusters of trees and scrub broke up the smooth flow of the turf, crosshatched with paths carved out by hares and foxes. Further out, I saw a sparse gathering of cottages, and an ivory freckling of sheep over the surrounding hillside.

We wandered the circumference of the deck, looking down first upon the rows of reliable utes, and one fragile sports car; then, at the people milling around the tables like tiny crabs on a beached porpoise. Finally, we regarded the stark, white shape of the new lighthouse and control centre; unnatural, yet homely against the shore. Down there, the brilliant tapestry of colour gave way to grey stone that formed jutting structures along the shore, growing smaller and smaller until they reached the small stretch of beach that must have been made from gravel, or even coarse sand. The sea there was deep grey, roiling with pale breakers that threw up jets of foam as they crashed against the rocks. Above the water, yet still strangely beneath us, grey gulls wheeled on the wild wind. Their cries carried over the roar of the sea, reaching us on a breath of sharp, briny air. I inhaled deeply, feeling the spirit of this ancient place come into me, cold and fresh.

“It is… beautiful. Do you mean you’d teach me up here?”

“If it was a bit less windy, yeah.” He scrunched his nose. “Otherwise, I’m renovating the kitchen in the next few weeks. Once its done up and not so decrepit we could use that.”

“So, this really is your place, then?”

“Aye. And about a hundred acres worth of peninsula. The workers at the new lighthouse have right of way, of course, but whatever. It’s a good deal.”

“Wow,” I allowed myself an awed gasp. “You inherited all that?”

“Well, my cousins did.” He itched the back of his neck, as if about to confess to an embarrassing fact. “They were gonna put it on the market and split the money, so I said I’d buy it sight unseen if they come down to help me clear out all the stuff.”

“Wow. How can you afford all that as such a young age?”

“I’m older than I look.” He admitted with an awkward laugh. “But younger than my soul, ma says.”

“You’ve been here a few time before?”

“More’n a few, I’d wager.” He turned his glittering eyes to me. “You don’t seem new either. We’ve probably met before, once upon a time.”

“You’d think I’d remember someone like you.”

“Ah, I’d say the same about you.” I did not miss the redness on his cheeks. “Memory is a fickle thing. Anyway, I can afford this place because I lead a charmed life. I work hard, yeah, but luck has so much to do with it. You collect your share of four-leafed clovers growin’ up ‘round here.”

“You’re from Dunbur?”

“Newcastle, up the coast a ways.”

“I might have driven through on my way to Dublin.”

“Might’ve.” He checked his watch. “Sorry, I better get back to the vultures.”

He strode over to the stairwell, and I took it as my cue to follow.

“Oh, you can stay up there as long as you like.” He assured me. “Just make sure you lock the door on the way out.”

“Oh, no, I better go home myself. Dinner to cook, laundry to do…”

“It never ends, does it?”

“Mm-mm.”

We made our way down, moving quickly as he took two stairs at a time. He reached the ground before me, but I found him waiting for me with an amused look on his beautiful face and my book bag under his arm.

“Sorry, I forgot about your poor, tiny legs.”

“Rude.” I tried to take my bag from him, but he was already digging through it.

“What have we got in here… The Anne Rice novels, very nice, and oh! The Divine Comedy! Have you read it before?”

“No, never.”

“You’ve got to.” He handed it over with gravitas. “Do not let this gather dust. Read it, it’ll change your life.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder as we stepped outside, pulling the enormous door closed behind him. “Alright, I’ve gotta run, but it’s been lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” I was about to let him go, but I wanted to see him for just a moment longer before he dissolved like mist. “Oh, Andrew?”

“Mm?”

“I’m… sorry, for your loss.”

“Thank you, but I never really knew her. She was the black sheep of the family, a title I’m happy to inherit. One day, I’ll tell you all about it.” Gently, he tapped my elbow with the back of his hand, a gesture that set my skin alight. “I’ll see ya round, Gráinne.”

“Bye.”

He waved as he left, the ever present smile still lingering on his lips. He turned to me again when he reached the crest of the hill and waved once more. I waved back, and when he disappeared over the rise, I bounded over to watch him walk away. One more time, he turned, as if he sensed me watching, and lifted his hand over his head.

“Gráinne.” I whispered, trying to match his lilting cadence. “Gráinne, Gráinne…”

I knew then that my name would never sound as sweet again, and wondered how much more exquisite it would be were it to pass from those budded lips in a sigh of bliss.

[chronicowboy]

Its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet for whole shifts. Some days, its just a bad day. One where all the work Eddie has done to get better can only keep him trudging forward step by heavy step. One where all his demons come back at once and try to drag him down. One where Eddie is too busy fighting old habits to join in on the jokes and banter. They've all gotten good at dealing with these days - Buck especially, but that's no surprise when he was there for The Worst Days.

So, its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet, but there's a simmering despair to Eddie's silence today that has Bobby's hackles rising. Its not his usual listless, fatigued quiet. Its a heavy, burdensome quiet. Bobby can't stand it, so he waits until the rest of the team trudge off to the bunks before he corners Eddie in the lounge with two cups of tea.

"You're not gonna let me escape are you?" Eddie sighs, collapsing back against the couch he'd tried to jump up from.

"I'm not holding you hostage," Bobby offers him one of the mugs with a smile, "I'm simply gently suggesting that you talk to someone. And I happen to be right here."

"Yeah." Eddie sighs again, eyes drifting down to the steaming surface of his tea. "What do you think I should talk to someone about?"

"Whatever it is that has you like this." Bobby gestures at him kindly. "You seem heavier."

He doesn't say it, but Eddie looks a lot like he did when Buck was in his coma. Bobby can't help but wonder, what with all the Natalia talk, if its because Eddie thinks he's losing him all over again, in a different way.

"Its nothing..." Eddie shakes his head, averts his eyes. "Just something that old lady from the living funeral said to me and Hen. Something my aunt said too."

"What'd they say?" Bobby prompts gently.

"My aunt said that I'm alone," Eddie mumbles. "Marie said that we all die alone. And, recently, I don't know." Another sigh, a hand scrubbed down his face. "Recently, it feels like time is running out and I can't help but think that when it does, its just a lonely death waiting for me at the finish line."

"Eddie, you aren't going to die alone." Bobby aches for him. Buck may be his son, but Bobby's always seen a piece of himself in Eddie. Its why he finds himself here so often, trying to coax Eddie's heart out of its cage. "You know that there are two people who would never, ever let that happen."

Eddie huffs a bitter laugh, eyes landing somewhere far away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Bobby is mature enough to admit he flounders a little here. All these talks he's had with Eddie, its always felt a bit like speaking to a brick wall. But now, now he thinks Eddie might have finally understood.

"Eddie," Bobby murmurs seriously, seriously enough to have Eddie meeting his eyes, "its never too late. Never."

"Feels like it might be this time, Cap," Eddie chokes out. He glances down at his tea. "I don't want to be alone."

"Love is a risk," Bobby blurts out desperately. He's never met two men who deserve a happy ending more than Buck and Eddie, and, whilst he can't take credit for how far they've come, he feels a blazing pride that their happy endings are to be found in each other. He can't let them miss out. "Love is a terrible, awful risk. Always. Always. Its never easy. It might be in the end. You might look back one day and think that it was all worth it to end up here. But you're in the today, the now, when the love is horrible and painful and the most difficult thing in the world." Eddie looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Bobby's heart breaks for him. "Every beat of your heart is like a punch to the stomach, and you think that maybe it would be easier if you'd never felt the love at all."

"No," Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. "No, there's no way I was never going to feel this.. I'd always end up here."

"That's mighty faithful for someone who doesn't believe in the universe," Bobby mumbles.

"I believe in him," Eddie shrugs helplessly.

"Eddie, you haven't lost him." Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. "He's just out of reach, but you can get to him. You've done it before. Both of you have. You always make it back to each other. That's your deal."

"I don't know how to reach him this time," Eddie confesses breathlessly.

"You have to take the leap, Eddie." Bobby sighs. "Its going to be terrifying, and it might not all fall into place at once. But one day, you'll look back and you'll be so damn glad you jumped."

Eddie bites into his lip as the first tear rolls down his cheek.

"What if he doesn't catch me?"

"Then, he'll pick you up off the floor," Bobby promises with all the conviction he has. Its the one thing he knows with any certainty in this world. "Eddie, whatever happens, you can't lose Buck. Not completely. And things might change. But think of how it could change for the better."

Eddie smiles to himself, a tiny, wobbly, private thing that Bobby's only caught glimpses of when Buck is around.

"So, I just jump?" he asks.

"You jump." Bobby nods. "You jump, and you hope, and you trust that he'll be right there with you."

"That he'll have my back?" Eddie grins ruefully.

"Yeah, trust that he'll have your back," Bobby smiles right back.

They'll be okay.

[wannab-urs]

Burn Slowly/I Love You | Chapter 1

Warnings/Content/Summary: As always I live in a fantasy world where no one gets pregnant or gets STDs and no one uses a condom. This is fiction. Wear a fucking condom. Sex while intoxicated but like it’s two maybe three beers y’all they aren’t drunk. Alternating POV kind of? Reader has burn scars on her left arm, wrapping over her shoulder and a bit onto her chest. No other physical descriptors. Remember that Frankie is strong as hell so it doesn’t matter if you’re petite or amazonian, this man can toss you around all he wants to. Fuck first feelings later type beat. Eventual descriptions of PTSD, trauma, minor character death, panic attacks, flashbacks, etc.

Word Count - 2.2k

Your Chest is Heavy

You’re sitting at the worn oak counter of a dive bar just a few blocks from your apartment with a cheap beer and a copy of The Secret History. Reading at the bar is a good way to scare off most men who would normally approach you. The rest usually fuck off when you don’t even look up from the book, muttering “not interested” in their direction. It’s really hard to focus on this book, though. The plot is a little meandering, for one, but there’s also a lot of people here tonight making it loud. 

A sudden burst of laughter draws your attention. A group of guys stand around a hightop table on the far side of the room. At first glance, none are particularly appealing to you. Rowdy, obscenely muscular, clean shaven, close cropped hair. Not your type at all. You’re just about to go back to your book when one of the guys catches your eye. He doesn’t look quite like the others. Unruly dark curls stick out of a ballcap, a scruffy beard clings to his cheeks. He’s got broad shoulders and big arms like the others, but his face is softer around the edges. His eyes are still caught in the crinkles of his laughter when he meets your stare. Shit you’re staring. 

You quickly look back down at your book, curling in on yourself, hoping he doesn’t come over. You’ve basically used universal bar sign language for come talk to me and that is not what you want. Even if he’s really cute. 

“Dude, she was practically eating you with her eyes. Go over there!” Benny playfully nudges Frankie on the shoulder. 

“You haven’t had any action in ages, Catfish. Go,” Pope teases. 

Frankie scrubs a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. She was probably looking at you, Benny.” 

“She was definitely looking at you, Fish,” Will seems genuine, tone softer and less like he’s setting Frankie up to fail. 

Frankie sighs, lifting his cap and running a hand through his curls before stuffing it back on his head. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.” The boys cheer like his love life is a fucking football game and he just scored a touchdown. 

Frankie slips into a bar stool beside you. “Uh… hi,” he says sheepishly. He feels like an idiot for doing this. 

“Not interested,” you mutter, barely even looking up from your book. Frankie’s face grows hot with shame. The boys will never let this go. Not a shot in hell. He sits there for a second, caught between facing your wrath if he doesn’t leave and facing the humiliation if he does. But just as he makes the decision to go, you look up at him. “Wait! I’m sorry. Habit.” 

Frankie cocks an eyebrow, but settles back into his seat. “I’m Frankie. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Yeah, Frankie. I’d like that.”

It wouldn’t have been right to send the man away without at least talking to him. That’s how you justify it to yourself. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous up close. In that first quick glance you’d caught the curve of his aquiline nose, the pout of his plump lips, and the blush creeping over his golden cheeks. That was enough to warrant at least a conversation. 

And fuck it was a good conversation. He asked about your book, which led to a rant about all the reasons you didn’t like it and all the reasons you were still reading it anyway, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he grinned at you. “What?” 

“It’s cute when you ramble,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck. 

You talked about your job at the library and he told you he’s an ambulance driver. He jerked a thumb toward the guys still nursing their beers behind him, “Firefighters. Buncha pendejos,” he’d said a little too loudly, winking at you. 

You had fully intended on letting him down gently. You didn’t come here to find someone to go home with, you came here to have a beer. And yet you had asked him if he wanted to head out of the bar. And now you’re sitting in  his truck, rolling down the highway.

“Can you turn the AC on?” You’re sweating through your long sleeve black shirt from the heat and your own nervousness. 

“Uh… It’s broken. I’m sorry,” Frankie kind of winces, like it physically hurts him to admit. “Not far from the house though.” 

“It’s fine! Just a little warm,” you play with the sleeve of your shirt and take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s just a little heat. You’ll be okay. Breathe. “Actually, can I roll the window down?” 

Frankie chuckles and hits the button to roll all the windows in the truck down. Your heart rate evens out as the night air hits your face. 

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a small white house. You pick at your fingers, seriously questioning if you made the right choice. He seems so sweet. You feel… safe with him. But-

“Cariño? We’re here,” Frankie speaks low, like he’s worried you’ll spook and take off. He slowly reaches over the console and takes your hand, stopping your fidgeting. He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” you say too quickly, too loudly in the stillness of the truck cab. “It’s just, uh… It’s been a while. I’m nervous.” Frankie pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it before laying it gently back down on the console. 

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ll take care of you, though. Promise.” He winks at you and it’s so dorky and cute that it calms you down a little. 

Frankie barely gets you through the door before he gently presses you into the wall and his soft, plush lips find yours. You melt into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. You knock his trucker hat to the floor and bury your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and his beard scrapes against the soft skin of your face. He smells like citrus and sandalwood. Your senses are gently overpowered by him, a soft wash of Frankie covering you and settling what remains of your nerves. 

Every fear you had comes rushing back as he slips his fingertips under the hem of your shirt. You freeze before grabbing his wrist and placing a palm on his chest, pushing him away gently. “Shirt stays on and hands stay outside of it, okay? I’m sorry…” Your body tenses in anticipation of the rejection you know is coming. He’ll kick you out. Or disregard your wishes. 

Frankie’s hands find your cheeks, drawing your face up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses you gently, reassuringly. It hits you again that you trust this stranger you just met in a bar. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hitches his hands under your thighs and pulls them up around his waist, settling you against his very prominent arousal. You roll yourself against him and he groans into your mouth. His hands wrap tightly around your body and he carries you down the hallway. 

He lays you gently on the bed and immediately goes for the button of your jeans, making sure to stay clear of your shirt. He tosses your jeans and underwear on the floor and drops to his knees beside the bed. 

“Oh, Frankie, you don’t have to-” your sentence is cut off by the low moan erupting from your throat as Frankie pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and buries his face in your cunt. His hooked nose grinds against your clit as he licks into you. Your hands find purchase in his curls and you roll your hips into him, grinding on his face. Frankie eats it up… literally. He groans into your pussy and you feel it reverberate through your entire body. Your head is thrown back in absolute ecstasy as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it rhythmically. You clench around nothing, pleasure curling up in your core. “Please, fuck, don’t stop. So close,” you cry out. Your voice is desperate, wrecked, and your hips are thrusting involuntarily against his face. 

You come with a near pained shout, hands tightening in Frankie’s hair and pulling him into you even harder as you grind on his nose. Frankie licks a trail from your entrance up to your mound, then presses kisses all the way up your clothed stomach and chest. He nips at your jaw as he unbuttons his pants and clumsily shoves them off with one hand, like he can’t bear to take his mouth away from you. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, hermosa,” he rumbles in your ear. “Could eat you out all night, if you’d let me.” 

You think you would let him, if you couldn’t feel his hardness pressed against your thigh. “Another time, Frankie.” You push your thigh against him. “Fuck me, please.” 

Frankie doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and pulls you further to the edge of the bed. He looks down at you, unconsciously licking his lips. “Fucking gorgeous…” he says under his breath. You could say the same about him. Half his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and half are standing wild from your fingers raking through them. His big brown eyes are wide, almost in awe. His upper half is wrapped in a tight white t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. 

He grips his thick, uncut cock in his fist and lines it up with your entrance before grabbing your hips. He pulls your hips into him, splitting you wide open without moving his hips an inch. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so full in your fucking life. Your hands fly to his muscular forearms, hanging on for dear life as he sheathes himself inside your tight heat. “Holy fuck, Frankie.” 

“I know, baby, I know,” Frankie whispers as he bends to cover your body with his. He drags his cock out a couple of inches and rolls his hips in a fluid motion, sinking back into you and grinding against your clit on every stroke. Moans spill from your lips unchecked. You don’t care if you sound sexy or if the words you’re babbling make any sense because he feels so fucking good. 

Frankie sits up and wedges his knees under your thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He grips your hips in his strong hands and easily pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your arms fly above your head, grasping onto the sheets. Your shirt rides up a little with the motion and you almost panic, but Frankie tangles his fingers into the fabric and holds the hem tight against your torso. Safe. You trust him.

Frankie grips you so hard you know you’ll bruise and slams his hips into yours, driving you closer and closer to coming. “You feel… so good, cariño. So. Fucking. Tight,” Frankie bites out between thrusts. You babble incoherently, the head of his cock is slamming into your cervix and it’s making you feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Nothing matters except Frankie’s cock buried inside you and the coil of pleasure building in your gut. He’s fucking you like a rag doll, now. Your body has gone boneless with the intensity of him inside you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a flame, burning you up from the inside out. You scream his name as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes taut with pleasure. Frankie steadily, brutally, fucks you through it. When your cunt finally stops convulsing around him, he drops your hips and leans over your limp, fucked out body. 

Frankie kisses you with a tenderness that seems at odds with the way he just fucked you, stuttering his hips into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and nestling his cock into the crease between your thigh and your torso. His cum splatters across your shirt in long spurts, coating you in his release. 

His forehead drops to yours and your heaving breaths mingle in the space between you. You meet his gaze and there’s something in his eyes… something like adoration. Affection. He shakes his head slightly and stands up. 

“I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” his voice comes out hoarse, rough with the after effects of his orgasm. He disappears into his closet and comes back with a big, long-sleeve t-shirt. You sit up slowly and take the shirt from him. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper. 

Frankie wakes up in his bed alone. His brow furrows in disappointment. He usually likes to make his hookups breakfast and drive them back to their car. He knows it’s a little weird, but it’s important to him that he takes care of you. He flops onto his side and catches a glimpse of a piece of  paper on his nightstand. It’s your number, your name signed with a heart and a note promising to return the shirt. 

Frankie smiles, feeling something dangerously close to hope for the first time in a long time.

A/N: This fic has been in the works for a while now. The initial idea was pitched in a chat with @beskarandblasters and she supported me every step of the way <3. Thanks to the Whorehomies for hyping me and this idea up! I appreciate y'all more than you'll ever know. And thanks to @str84pedro for the beta/grammar edit I love you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @harriedandharassed, @jksprincess10, @fishingforpike, @dreamingofdaddydin, @sad-bitch-disorder

[mercurygray]

꒰ 13 ꒱ “i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit.”

꒰ N ꒱ fondness

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ the corner bed in a hospital ward

for anyone who’s been on your mind lately!

Thanks for the prompt, Addie! I'm taking another opportunity to write more Vivian/Huston - a follow up to the piece from last week.

His affirmations were becoming harder to remember.

Your name is Adam Huston. You are a surgeon with the 96th Bomber Group and you are good at your job.

Yes, good at his job - good at patching men up and putting them back together after they came back home shredded and bleeding. But men weren't planes, and after a while there came a point where patches couldn't - wouldn't - hold. Twenty five missions, twenty eight, thirty. How could you put that man back together? Assuming, that is, that he came back at all. So many of them didn't.

He tried not to say too much in his letters to Vivian, glanced over and around it using only the lightest words. CO's turned me down for leave again - we're still shorthanded. You'll have to enjoy London without me. She wrote back about a dog they'd adopted, new recipes for dinner, the flowers in the estate garden. I'm being reassigned. I'll let you know when I have my new address. I miss you terribly. I miss you awfully. I miss you more than anything. Vivian.

Time in emergency surgery seemed like an everyday occurrence now - his nurses could suture and close as well as anyone he'd gone to medical school with. Easier to deal with them here than try to send them up the chain. In the scrub room he stripped off his gloves and his mask, consigned his bloody smock to the laundry bin. Clean hands and a cup of coffee, and then there was still the ward to check, the casualties from yesterday.

Lieutenant Harris handed him a clipboard as he shrugged into his coat, her nightingale cap and nursing whites immaculate. (Blood was best left elsewhere - in the surgery and on the landing field. White was calm - orderly. White was clean bandages and bedsheets and uniforms. A white coat meant that everything was at peace, even if the man wearing it hardly felt that way. "The new Clubmobile woman's waiting, when you have a minute," she added, when he'd found his pen and checked his appearance in the dressing room mirror. "She stopped by to introduce herself."

"Has someone not told her there's a war on?" Adam asked acidly, giving the jacket one final tweak. "I'll be with her when we're done with rounds, and not before."

His coat was like armor. Put it on and he became someone else - someone actually capable of solving the world's problems. (He'd never worn his coat at Coombe House. It had never really fit.) He worked the ward with his best bonhomie in full force, better in no time, healing wonderfully, arm's never looked better, give the cast two more weeks and you'll be fine.

He was ignoring the woman near the office - the last bed in the ward, and not before. They would all get their full due from him before he met the new woman.

Finally she spoke, and he felt something inside him plummet and fall. "I don't mean to sound disrespectful, Captain, but are you feeling well?"

Adam turned, the voice both sacred and profane and the fondness in it inescapable, and strongly resisted the urge to run and embrace her. (Harris was still on the ward, and there were the patients to think about. Doc Huston, with a girlfriend? The gossip mill would have run off of its chain in excitement.) "Vivian." And here she was - in living flesh and Red Cross Blue, smiling at her own joke. "You - you said you were being reassigned."

"And here I am."

He stared. "You're going… to be here?"

It didn't come out the way he wanted. "I thought you'd be pleased," she said, studying his face for a sign, dropping her voice lower still. "Is it going to be a problem?"

"No," he said, and it sounded like begging to say it. He moved closer, tried to match her tone, resisted the urge yet again to wrap himself around her and never let go. "No, it won't be a problem. Only if I can't get ten minutes alone with you."

"Only ten minutes?" Her tone was light and teasing. "I was hoping for at least an hour. I'm overdue, after you cancelled on London."

His mind filled in the blanks and he smiled, in spite of himself, in spite of everything. "Naughty girl."

"But are you, Adam?" She had returned to her original question - the one that had been a joke. "Feeling well?"

He took a breath and filled in his smile, feeling the weight of the coat at his shoulders. "I'm fine," he said, and almost meant it.

[gachawolfiebloom]

Two Hearts In The City of Love

Chapter 3: Hanging Along The Seine

Tags: Love, Love Confession, Romance

BANG BANG BANG

Three's eyelids slowly went open as he turned around to look at the door.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

He groaned and threw the covers over him, hoping that whoever was doing that would get the hint to get lost. Unfortunately, it wasn't working because the pounding on the door got louder and a muffled voice came from behind.

"Smg3! Smg4! Oppeeennnn upppp!"

Three knew exactly who that voice belonged too. "Go away Mario!"

"But Marioooo's hunnngggrrryyyy!"

He sighed in defeat and got up to open the door. Mario was already dressed and in high alert while Three still had messy hair and was standing in his pajamas. "We don't have any food here fatso! Screw off!"

"Mario knows that! Luigi said that he reserved a table for us at the breakfast buffet downstairs!" Three raised an eyebrow. "And did he say what time the reservation was for?"

"9:00 AM!"

"Seriously? It's 6:08 in the morning idiot."

"Well Mario can't tell time and he's hungry soooooo..."

Taking in another long breath, he gave in and said "Fine. Just give us some time to get ready." Mario nodded and went right next door to the girls's room, banging on their door as well. "Meeegggyyy! Oppeeennnn upppp!"

Three slammed his door and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Maybe the faucet would drown out the constant whining. Four was still sound asleep through all the noise. Three came out with his hair neatly brushed and his clothes on. He went to put on his cap and gloves, then went over to the bed and glared at Four for a few seconds.

"Wake up scrub! Mario wants us downstairs for breakfast." Four was taking such a slower approach to waking up that it urged Three to go and dump a bucket of water on his head. Luckily, the blue eyed man was already sitting up before he could go grab it.

"Huh? Isn't it like six in the morning...?"

"Yes, but Mario's just going to keep pestering us until we're up."

Four rolled his eyes and laid back down, covering himself with the blankets. "Yeah...I'm not doing that. Wake me up at a decent time."

Three then lunged his hands to strongly grip the end of the bed and he yanked the covers off Four. "Oi! I did not just spend all that time getting ready to watch you be lazy!" Four rubbed his eyes and stuck out his hands while sitting up again.

"Alright. Alright. I'm up." He slowly stood up, grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom. Three looked over the state of the bed and walked away. He wasn't fixing that. These places had room service for a reason. Four soon came out to put on his gloves and hat like Three did.

While he was doing that, Three's sternness softened as he remembered what had happened between them yesterday. "I'm sorry for snapping at you..." Four blinked and turned around to face him.

"Who are you and what have you done with Three?"

"I'm being serious!"

Four started laughing and said "Sorry. Sorry. I know. I was just teasing you." Three crossed his arms when he heard Four reply back "I wasn't really acting like myself yesterday either. No hard feelings?" He stuck his hand out for Three as he placed his hand in Four's and they slowly intertwined fingers. It made Three blush a little.

"Is Mario interrupting something?"

The two men turned to find Mario leaning against the doorway with a smug grin on his face. "GET OUT OF HERE IDIOT!" Three screamed, letting go of Four's hand in the process. It disappointed the blue man a little. Mario giggled as he ran down the hallway as the two boys watched from leaving their room. "Can he not be himself for 5 minutes!" Three complained.

Four remembered noticing the lounge area in the hotel lobby. "Hey. How about we go chill in the lounge while we wait for everyone to come down to breakfast?" Three nodded and they both headed toward the elevator. It was actually pretty quiet in the lounge. Barely any people were around and they had the couches all to themselves.

Four watched some memes while Three checked in with Karen to see if Eggdog was doing alright, which he was. Soon enough, everyone came downstairs for breakfast and they all went over to the restaurant. The waiter asked Luigi "Good morning sir. How many?"

"8 please. I made a reservation." The waiter found his name and seated them all at a long table with a white tablecloth and plates in front of them. Mario began searching around for a menu, but none were available. "Where's the food? Mario wants spaghetti!" Meggy told him "Mario, this is a buffet. All the food is served over there." She pointed to a bunch of tables with drinks, pastries, and wide assortments of fruit and toppings.

"I wouldn't do that Meggy. Mario's just gonna-" Before Four could say another word, the fat Italian dashed off towards the buffet and started shoving random things into his mouth. "...eat everything." He sighed and got up to keep his best friend under control. "Oops..." Meggy shyly said, rubbing her head.

"Whatever. I'm getting a coffee." Three mumbled as he went over to the line of drinks at a table. Four started pulling Mario away from the table as he begged and screamed like a child. "Mario quit it! You're going to get us kicked out!"

"But Smg4! Mario has never seen so much food in one place!" It was embarrassing for him to have to keep his best friend under control like this so he said "Then use your plate like a normal person and don't hog the food." Mario sprung up and said "Okey dokey!" then went back to grab his plate.

Tari admired the assortments of delicious pastries. There were croissants, macaroons, muffins, cinnamon buns, and decorated tarts that were filled with jams. "Wow! These all looked delicious." She picked a few to sample and got some juice. Meggy noticed the wide variety as well. "This is really high standard. I wonder how Luigi had this in the budget."

"Oh! Bob look at all this! Doesn't it look yummy." Boopkins was licking his lips while Bob was gathering a whole bunch of stuff on his plate. "HELL YEAH! FREE FOOD!" Boopkins stared at him in confusion. "It's not free. Luigi is paying for it." Bob scoffed back and said "IF I'M NOT PAYING FOR IT THEN IT'S FREE!" He went to grab a drink and was outraged with what he saw. "WHAT!? WHERE'S THE BEER!?" It was all just regular assortments like juice, tea, and coffee. "THIS SERVICE IS CRAP! I'M RATING IT 0 STARS!"

Mario was grabbing one of everything the buffet had to offer while Four kept a close eye on him. Soon the plumber realized that his plate was full, but there was still many things he wanted to try. "Hey Smg4! Can Mario use your plate?"

"What? What for?"

"Mario ran out of space on his and he wants more!"

"Can't you just eat what you have and come back for seconds?"

"But what if they run out?"

"Mario..."

"Pleeeaaaasssseeee!"

Mario pleaded with his best puppy dog eyes that rendered Four into surrender. "Alright. Just make it quick." Mario cheered and rushed back to the table to set down his first plate and grab Four's plate. Everyone had gotten their food and sat back down to eat when Three noticed Four had no plate in front of him. "What happened?"

"Mario wanted my plate for extras."

"And you're fine with that?"

"I'm not that hungry anyways."

Three felt kinda bad for him. He slowly slid his plate closer and said "Here. We can share." Four was taken aback by Three's sudden kind act. His eyes then sparkled when he saw that Three had  gotten some pancakes. He grabbed a fork and happily tucked in as they were really good. The bearded man smiled at his partner's enthusiasm for the light, fluffy food and tried some himself.

Not after a few bites of food, Bob complained "THREE'S CAFE IS MUCH BETTER THAN THIS!" Three smirked and said "You're darn right it is!" Meggy shifted her gaze to the one who had organized all of this. "Hey Luigi?"

"Hm?" He looked up from his plate as she asked "Where did you find the money for all of this?" Mario soon came back with a pile of food on the plate that was even bigger than the first. "Are you really going to eat all of that Mario?" Tari inquired with curiosity. "A buffet means all you can eat!"

"Oh, well actually. I was going to share that with you guys." Everyone adverted their attention to Luigi as he shared some big news with them. "While I was getting everything ready for our trip, I found a job opportunity here at a flower shop and they accepted me!" Meggy's perplexed look changed into excitement. "That's great Luigi! Congratulations!"

Tari clapped for her friend while Bob and Mario shared weird glances with each other. "WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET A JOB AT SOME TACKY FLOWER SHOP?" Mario, with a mouth full of pastries, said "Wry wouff Luigi wamt somf fowefs?"

"With the money, we can see all the popular sights of Paris and stay in this grand hotel."

"MY HOTEL IS BETTER!" Bob said, crossing his arms.

~After Breakfast~

Since Luigi had to go to work, the others decided to go down to the Le Marais, located by the Seine. There was many stores to go shopping at and tons of cuisine to try in bakeries. They all went back to their rooms to pack some stuff for the trip and then they set off towards the neighborhood. When they got to a pier by the edge of the river, Luigi waved goodbye to head off for work.

Meggy pulled up a map on her phone and said "Well how about we all split up and meet back here by sundown." Before anyone could agree, Bob started dashing down the street. "Bob! Where are you going?"

"I'M GOING TO PARTY AT A BAR!" It was true that there were some bars scattered around. Boopkins chased after him, calling out "Bob! Wait! You promised to help me find some new anime for my collection!" The two disappeared around the corner so the others probably weren't going to find those two anytime soon. Not long after, Mario began tugging on Four's sleeve. "Come on Smg4! Mario wants to go to a bakery!"

"Now!? We just had breakfast!"

Mario started getting grumpy. He lifted Smg4 up and started running off in another direction down the street. Three looked back at the girls for a moment and then walked off. "Well you have fun. I better stop him before he destroys something."

It was just the two of them now. "Well, there's lots of shops around here. Want to go check some out." Tari quickly approved and told Meggy "There's this one store I would really like to look at!" Meggy smiled and said "Alright. Lead the way Tari." She grabbed Meggy's hand and led her down town.

Bob burst through the door of a bar and yelled "BRING ON THE DRINKS!" Boopkins came barreling through. "Bob that isn't good for you!" He sat up on a chair and said "GET ME A SHOT OF WHISKEY!" The bartender nodded and slid a glass to him. Boopkins tugged on his arm and said "We should go! You promised me-" Bob pulled his arm out of Boopkins's hands and gulped down the entire drink. "GIVE ME ANOTHER!"

Mario kept running with Smg4 until he finally put him down. "Mario! You can't just-" A sweet smell piped his interest as freshly baked goods were sitting in display cases. And when the chefs opened the ovens, it made Mario lick his lips. Four was now under the spell of those delicious treats as the two pressed their hands against the glass to look closer.

Three soon stumbled in himself and found the two boys drooling over the food. "Don't tell me your hooked on this too..." Four looked up at him with an innocent face and spoke in a soft voice. "Please can we get some." Mario quickly followed Four's lead as he dropped to his knees and cupped his hands. "Please give some money for Mario to buy something."

"NO! Now let's go!" Mario's face turned into annoyance as he planted his feet firmly and protested "NEVER! YOU'LL WON'T TAKE MARIO ALIVE!" Three gritted his teeth. "Mario. Don't make me drag your butt out of here!"

"Mario triple dog dares you!"

"THAT'S IT!"

Three threw Mario over the shoulder, but he clung onto the counter. Three quickly noticed and started tugging his legs. "LET GO MARIO! YOU'RE MAKING A SCENE!" Four watched in horror and tried to pretend like he didn't know them when people started staring. Eventually, one of the chefs came over and said "Sir, if you're not going to order anything, please leave."

"I'M TRYING BUT THIS FATSO WON'T LET GO!"

Four dug through his bag and pulled out his wallet, giving him an idea. "Three! Mario! Stop! I'll pay for the treats with my own money!" Mario's eyelids flickered open. "Really!?" He instantly let go of the counter, sending him and Three to collapse on the floor. "GET OFF ME!" Mario quickly stood up and ran into the line. "Yippee!" Four went over and helped Three up. When he noticed that Three was still upset, he waved his wallet around in a hypnotizing kind of way.

"Fine. But you're paying and I don't want anything." He marched over to an empty table, sat down, and tipped his hat over his eyes. Four squealed in excitement and went over to join Mario in line. "What would you like to order?" Four looked at the menu and said "Can I have some chocolate macaroons and a croissant please?" The chef grabbed a bag and took the food out of the display case with some tongs. "What do you want Mario?"

He narrowed his eyes and pointed to a delicious looking slice of chocolate cake. The chef took out a small box to put the cake in and handed the treats to the boys. "Anything else for you today?" Four shook his head. "Alright, your total will be-"

"Get me a tart and a coffee." Four spun around to see Three, holding his head in his hands with a smirk. "I though you didn't want anything." He shrugged and said "I changed my mind."

Four sighed and told the chef "A tart and a coffee for him." He took out his credit card and paid the total. Once they got their food, the two men went to go sit down at the table with Three. "You owe me for this." Three chuckled and said "Next time it's on me." Four bit into his croissant and said "Wow! This is good." Three bit into his tart and was struck under its captivating flavor. "Yeah. I should try to make something like this back home."

Mario was enjoying his slice of cake very much, getting chocolate all over his face. "Thats-a so nice!" Four giggled, but then noticed that Three stopped eating. Upon closer inspection, he had a disappointed look on his face. "Three? What's wrong?"

He looked up at Four for a second and then shifted his gaze back down. "It's just...Maybe my cafe isn't good enough. I mean, business was struggling a few months ago..." Four remembered that time when Three let out his emotions. How he felt like...the worst version of Four.

"I know how you feel. I've had those same doubts about myself." He lifted Three's head up so he could see that Four was being genuine. "But we've both helped each other through it. Right?" He gave a caring smile to Three and he returned it back. "Yeah."

They felt splashes of chocolate hit their checks as Three wiped it off with his sleeve in disgust. "Mario! Chew with your mouth closed." Mario was licking the contents off his plate with chocolate staining his face and clothes. "Mario can't help it! It's so yummy!" Four took another bite of his pastry and said "We better finish before Mario tries to eat our food as well."

"Here it is!" Tari presented a luxurious store to Meggy that was called "Soi Paris Boutique." The outside was decorated with pink and the windows showed dresses on mannequins that had different types of patterns and designs. Meggy rubbed her arm and winced. The idea of trying on all those itchy dresses didn't sound appealing to her. They walked inside and Meggy laughed nervously. "So what do you want to get Tari?"

"Well I heard that there's this really cute hoodie with ducks on it. I just had to try it on." Meggy sighed in relief. "Oh that sounds nice. I was worried we were going to be trying on those uncomfortable dresses I saw in the window." Tari chuckled and said "Oh don't worry Meggy. I won't force you to try on anything you don't want to."

"Thanks!" Meggy gave her a thumbs up and then stuck a confident pose. "Now let's go find that hoodie!" The girls split up to look through racks of clothing. "I didn't realize how many pieces of clothing this place can hold. It looked a lot smaller from the outside."

Meggy then spotted an interesting shirt. It had a squid pattern on it and was at a nice length for training and exercise. "This actually looks like something I might wear. I'm sure Tari wouldn't mind if I tried it on for a quick minute." She zipped off to the dressing room and not three seconds later, Tari cried out "HERE IT IS! Meggy?" The orange haired girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tari did want to try on the hoodie so she called out "I found the hoodie Meggy! I'm just going to quickly try it on! Be right back!" Meggy was doing a bunch of cool poses in the mirror with the shirt. Not restricting or itchy at all. She went out of the changing room and looked around. "Tari?" She heard a curtain swing open and looked in awe as Tari admired her hoodie.

"What do you think Meggy?"

"Tari...you're beautiful..."

"Really? Thank you! So do you!"

Meggy shielded her bright red cheeks with her eyes and whispered "Did I say that out loud..." Tari giggled and asked "You tried something on too?" Meggy looked down at the shirt and said "Yeah! I thought I'd give it a try since it seemed consistent."

"I think you would look really nice training in that! You should get it!"

Meggy felt a little embarrassed. She was into training and Splatfest, not girly shopping. Tari could sense this and told her "Nothing to be ashamed of. You can still like being athletic and like shopping as well. No one will judge you."

"Thanks Tari..." The girls changed and went over to the checkout. The cashier asked Meggy "Would you like to purchase this ma'am?" Meggy shared a glance with Tari, who was smiling at her. She looked down at the shirt and said "Yes. Yes I would."

~A While Later~

It was now sundown. Everyone had gathered back at the pier. The boys noticed the girls coming with some bags in their hands. "You went shopping? I didn't take for you to do this sort of thing Meggy." She shot back to Three "And I thought you didn't want to spend time with Four."

He was stunned as his face turned red yet again. "I..I DON'T! SHUT UP SQUID!" She laughed when suddenly someone hobbled toward them. "WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!?" Bob was swaying back and forth with beer bottles in hand, flat out drunk. "And what the hell happened to you!?" Three questioned. Boopkins popped up behind him and said "Sorry! He had a lot to drink at the bar."

"I DID NOT! SHUT UP GREEN CABBAGE!"

Boopkins looked up, concerned for his friend. "I think we should head back." Meggy nodded and said "Yeah! I'll text Luigi that he can meet us back at the hotel." They all started heading back before Four stopped Three and said "We'll catch up with you guys in a second!"

Three stared blankly at him. "Four. It's late." He covered his eyes with his palms. "I know. I know. Can we just...take a walk along the pier." Mario stopped and said "Oooo Mario wants to join them!" Meggy grabbed him and said sternly "No Mario. They need some alone time."

"But that's why Mario wants to go! He wants to see them making out!"

"WE'RE NOT GOING TO MAKE OUT!" Meggy lightly touched his shoulder and said "Let's just give them some privacy. Alright?" Mario sighed sadly. "Okey dokey..." They followed the rest of the crew back to the hotel, leaving Four and Three by themselves.

Four offered out his hand and said "I want to talk to you about something." Three slowly inched his hand closer to his ex rival's, but flinched. "Don't tell me we're bringing the plane up again."

"No. Something else."

Three grabbed Four's hand and they slowly walked along the streets by the seine. "So what is it then? The conversation at the bakery?"

"No."

"The nightmare you had?"

"No."

"We're finally putting Mario out of misery so he'll stop interfering with us?"

"NO!"

The two stopped and said nothing. Only the soothing sounds of rushing water and twinkling stars in the sky to comfort them. "Three...I..." He noticed that their eyes were locked onto each other which made him shut his mouth.

"I...I'm sorry..."

"What? You dragged me out here for some stupid apology!?"

"That's not all I just..."

"I know you didn't want to come here and I can tell we're making it harder for you so...I'm sorry."

He saw that Three was lost in thoughts. Looking like this apology had just made it worse. "I'll go now..." He started to walk off before Three said "Wait." Four turned around in surprise as Three pulled him closer. "I never said I didn't want to be here. And I never said I didn't want to hang out with you guys."

"Then what did you want?"

"Okay. I wasn't ecstatic about it at first. But this is something I actually enjoy with my friends."

Four, truth be told, was glad to hear that. Things had been quite rocky with them since the trip started, but after today, they actually realized that spending time with each other wasn't so bad. Then his playful antics kicked in.

"You're such a tsundere Three."

"I AM NOT! SHUT UP YOU BAKA!"

He pushed him away as Four laughed. They figured it was time to head back so they walked to the hotel, hand in hand once again. Three still looked grumpy so Four tried to lift his spirits. "I understand if you want to switch rooms. I won't be offended." Three looked back at him and shook his head.

"Nah. I'm fine where I am."

Chapter 4: For Your Amusement

[zombiewhor3]

IMMUNE

female reader x season 2 twd group

WARNINGS: shane, mentions of walker bite, gorey descriptions, gorey and violent scenes, mature language.

A/N: this is one of the worst things i've ever written but i really wanted to use this idea before i forgot about it so oh well!

-

dropping some more wood into the fire she could feel the eyes lingering on her she had been with them for a few months and yet they still watched her like a hawk.

they stalked her every move, it was like every breath she took was being analyzed by the group. she placed a seat on a stump in front of the fire using it to heat her hands and with a soft sigh she looked at the infamous sheriff who was buttoning up his shirt.

his eyes focused on her hoping that she wouldn't plot a move on them, she had been off. Something about the way she never spoke, the only word they had gotten out of her was a simple whisper to alert them of a walker, after that was pure silence.

he noticed the way she hadn't feared the walkers, not even a glimmer of fear in her eye struck when they ran into a giant hoarde.

"y/n, gather your stuff before we head to the well" rick spoke gently, she could see him gesture her out of the corner of her eye.

standing up and gathering a pair of pants and shirt from her tent she followed the group to the well, lifting the bucket and using a washboard that Maggie gifted them to scrub her clothes.

she stayed farther away from the group, right on the small hill where Daryl was perched using his knife to cut up an apple. "i don't i've ever seen ya take that jacket off" he muttered before popping a piece of the fresh fruit in his mouth.

continuing to scrub her clothes and looking down at the dirt that came off of them she spoke, "it was a gift" he chuckled a little before cutting off another piece of the apple and passing her the last piece.

placing it into her mouth she chewed as she hung up her clothes to dry against the tree, resting the washboard against its trunk before sitting back down.

"one thing about this group is we don't trust easy, don't take it personal kiddo" flipping the blade away and tossing the core he could feel her eyes digging into him.

"yeah well i don't trust some of em either" her tone was bitter,

"and ya think i do?" he replied taking the crossbow off of his shoulder and resting it down on the ground.

"they watch my every move, they trust Maggie more than me and i've known them longer" she stood up and brushed off her pants,

he could see that there were holes all throughout the back, the denim torn in certain places all covered in dirt and practically begging for it to be cleaned.

"why don't ya wash the jacket? we still have water left"

she shook her head no at him before grabbing the washboard and heading back to the main camp area. Why did it matter so much that she didn't want to take her damn jacket off?

-

dinner was always filled with laughter, pots being passed around, stories were told around the camp fire. she usually sat in her tent to eat alone or she sat away from the groups eyes.

now sitting on a stump beside Daryl with a plate in her hand she hadn't felt as isolated, she hadn't felt as alone. Even if she didn't trust a few of the men sitting across from her.

she took a beer that rick offered her, twisting off the cap she took a sip as she rolled up her sleeves to try and escape some of the heat the fire was giving off.

she listened to the stories they told, all about their jobs, families and their lives before the apocalypse, clearing her throat she spoke up,

"before this whole dead virus thing came about i used to be majoring in chemical science so i guess that went out the window" she could hear the group around her laugh and Glenn began to pipe up his own story.

"i was a pizza driver and i was majoring in economics, and now since there's no money involved with whats left of the world id say it was not handy" she gave off a soft smile,

everyone seemed to loosen up now, except for Shane. Though he hadn't trusted anybody, he didn't even trust Daryl even after he saved his life on multiple occasions.

his dark eyes were burning into her skin, burning into the rolled up sleeve but to busy drinking her beer and continuing her conversation she hadn't even noticed he stood up from his seat.

pulling her up from her seat he stripped her off the denim jacket while holding her forearm into the air causing a mutter of confusion amongst the group.

a scar was imprinted into her skin, a part of her flesh was missing where skin had grown back over it already leaving it a shade of pink and red going against her natural skin tone. "shane get the hell off me" she bittered trying to swing away from his grasp.

everyone else had gotten up to look at her arm, she swallowed harshly feeling his grip tighten while she felt like everyone was poking and prodding at her with their beady eyes.

"it's a dog bite, it happened when i was a teenager now will you let the hell go of me" she rattled against his hand but still with his tight grasp it was almost no use to push against him.

"these are human teeth, not even a human bite scar would be this color, you've been bit" she could hear people gasp as he came to his shitty but true conclusion, she had been bit but she wasn't like the others, she didn't turn.

looking over to Daryl she let out a plea, "it's not what it looks like i promise you i can explain all of this" Daryl could feel his hand on Shane's shoulder now as he practically pried his grasp from her.

sitting on the opposite side away from everybody shane's gun remained pointed at her chest, ready to pull the trigger whenever she turned into the monster that bit her.

"this mark is two years old, i got it at the beginning i was just a dumb teenager and i made a stupid decision" she sighed while finally slipping off her denim jacket and resting it beside her.

"no way you would've turned by now" someone muttered from the group watching her eyes flick up at them, "don't you get it, i can't turn something about this virus doesn't affect me".

-

looking at the straggling walker before them she repeated back Shane's words with an utter disgust,

"i'm sorry you want me to let another walker bite me to prove i'm really immune? you're god damn crazy you know that"

pulling out her knife she braced her self for the pain of something that was going to tear through more flesh on her arm, reaching her arm out she let out a piercing scream as it bit down on her flesh,

its teeth sinking into her enough to pull a little chunk of her arm out, as tears flooded her eyes she used her other arm to take the walker out as she ripped away from the grasp of its teeth.

he tossed a piece of cloth at her before making his way up to camp, with a subtle sob in the depth of the night she wrapped her wound and trailed just far enough behind him.

blood soaked through the cloth, dying over the cotton white to turn it into a shade of near death, finally stumbling back into camp she sat around the fire keeping her best to stay silent.

he stared at her through the flames of the fire just as strong as her loathe for him right now,

"does this prove your point now asshole?" she retorted back before wincing at the feeling her hand putting pressure down on her arm.

-

looking at the crowd in front of her she stood holding up her arm,

"day seven with this bite and i haven't turned i won't turn because i'm immune to whatever the hell this is, and i would like to go back to not being harrassed" she muttered.

everyone else in the group had left her be now, she was one less thing they had to worry about. and it made her life so much easier no more poking and prodding, she was actually able to have a conversation without Shane stalking her.

"you think they trust me now?"

she whispered over to Daryl who had a smile on his face, "sure they do, ya got bit by a walker to prove yer point who wouldn't trust ya" he replied feeling her head lean against his shoulder.

"until the next walker bite i suppose"

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 18: Core

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.5k a/n: uh, sorry it's been so long. life's been wiiiiild lmao first|next

Time went by quickly. The staff operated as if nothing happened - as if they hadn’t just been out for over a week. They were acting like it was just another run of the mill day and you were grateful for that. 

No one tried to get in contact with this side of the hospital. Well, one person did, but it was just a check in that was easily faked. It was also only a couple of hours, so it wasn’t like you had a lot of time for things to happen.

It felt too easy, but if Corazon was right, your father was banking on you being out for the count for a while. So unless Doflamingo were to somehow get ahold of him, he'd be none the wiser. The man must've thought he could take you on his own and didn't notify anyone you were here earlier. Good thing he had such a massive ego. It worked in your favor.

“Alright, get ready. It's shift change,” you said to one of your staff members. “Gather up a few more and we'll head over. I'm going to keep watch to see who comes in.” After all, you didn't want to get any innocents involved. 

You watched the screens, making note of who came and went. It seemed like it was a lot of your normal night staff, but with some of your father's men sprinkled in. Probably only about a handful. Nothing you couldn't handle. 

“Ready?” You looked over as one of your staff members poked their head in, you nodded. “There's about five of my father's men. The rest are normal staff.” They nodded as you headed towards the door. 

“Follow my lead. Just like before. We should be able to take care of this quickly.” Unfortunately, however, it was going to be a bit harder. You didn't have a series of tunnels on that side of the hospital, so you dressed in scrubs, including a mask and bouffant cap. You couldn't risk anyone recognizing you. Your staff could get by in just normal scrubs luckily.

You and three other staff members went with you to the front side of the hospital. You went in through the main entrance, acting like you were rolling in for your shift. 

You were greeted by the night receptionist. You waved at him, heading further into the hospital. You and the three others you were with spread out. You had debriefed them quickly on who was on this side that didn't belong. “Make sure to report to my office in an hour,” you muttered to the three of them. They all nodded and you went your separate ways. 

“Doctor, you're back?” You tensed, moving quickly. You grabbed whomever it was, pulling them into the storage closet, covering their mouth. It was Nico Robin. She didn't look scared or startled by your actions, however. 

“I can't let anyone know I'm here,” you said quietly.

She nodded in understanding and you removed your hand from her mouth. “Sorry about that.”

“It's quite alright. I knew something was up when you and Marco stopped showing up. Along with the boys. All of us staff did. Then new people rolled in, claiming new management. Glad to see you back.” She had a relaxed smile and you wondered why the hell she was so calm. Most people would be freaking out by now. 

“We're not as in the dark as you think, doctor. Not anymore at least. The newcomers aren't bright and talk very loud. And you know this place is a hub for gossip.” 

You couldn't help but smile from under your mask. “Well, it's nice to know people were still willing to stay.”

“Of course we did. We all knew you'd come back for us. Even if it took some time. Besides, they mostly left us alone and let us operate how we usually did.” She shrugged, folding her arms across her chest.

That was good. You had been worried that they'd completely overturn the place, at least they seemed to have trusted your staff on the front side to keep things operating. Though, Robin and your staff’s trust in you coming back meant the world to you. You had no idea they held you in such high regards. Everything was slowly being put into perspective for you.

You owed everyone so much at this point. You were already planning on giving everyone some extra vacation days and some gifts because this was insane. 

“There is one girl who is going around barking orders, but she doesn't seem to know the first thing about being a doctor.” Robin gave an amused laugh, shaking her head. “I think her name was Trinity? I'm not sure. I never paid much attention to her. However, she's out today.”

You felt your blood boil at the mention of her. Not necessarily at her, though. She was a victim and barely even an adult. Your blood boiled because you still couldn't believe your father. You couldn't believe he completely sired and raised a child all this time without you knowing. That he specifically kept it from you as well. 

You shoved those thoughts away. “Sorry again, Robin. Thank you for everything. I'll let you go.”

Robin just smiled her easy going smile and nodded. “It's quite alright, just like I said. Good luck, doctor.” With that, she left. 

You stayed there a moment longer, taking a deep breath. It was absolutely nerve wracking right now. Plus, how the hell did Robin immediately recognize you? You thought you were completely covered. Maybe Robin was just really good at recognizing people. That's what you hoped anyway. You somewhat banked on that hope.

After recollecting yourself, you headed out of the storage closet like nothing happened, continuing back towards your office. “Is it just radio silence over there?” You heard a voice coming from your office and you slowed down, sticking close to the wall as you listened from around the corner. 

“Yeah. I haven't been able to get ahold of anyone for a couple of hours. I figured they were busy, but I'm starting to get worried. They did check in, but nothing else. Which isn’t normal.” Ah, shit.

From the sounds of the voices, it was your father's right hand men, Daniel and Gabriel. You felt your chest tighten. These men were practically your uncles, they helped raise you, but they treated you just as coldly as your father did now. 

You took a deep breath before quieting your racing heart so you could listen. 

“You don't think they're back to take over the hospital, do you?”

“Nah, that's impossible. The boss made sure to crush their spirit. Besides, they signed the papers. Even if they tried to take things back, in the face of the law, the hospital isn't theirs anymore. I'm sure they're busy fixing someone up. I heard there was a shootout earlier today anyway.” 

You felt your blood boil even more. So, Corazon was right. Your father was banking on psychological warfare. How could you do such a thing to your own child? You still couldn’t believe he’d go so far. It was disgusting honestly. All this for what?

“If they would've just stopped with their stupid fantasyland, we wouldn't be in this situation.” A sigh could be heard. You felt your eye twitch.

“That's true. They have no one to blame but themselves.” A laugh. “For a doctor, they sure are dumb.” Both of them started laughing. 

Oh, you were going to fuck them up royally. You didn't care that these men helped raise you. These weren't the caring uncles you grew up with. Those men were dead - fake. 

“Wait, what's that on the camera? Is someone listening?” Shit. Well, there was no hiding now. You ripped off your mask and bouffant.

You rounded the corner, pulling out your gun, training it at them and they did the same to you. You shot once, getting one of them in the leg. Daniel cried out, kneeling on the ground. With one hand he covered the wound, with the other he pointed his gun at you. 

“What are you doing here?” You could hear slight fear in Gabriel's voice. It was true. Your father’s men did fear you. At least a little bit. You glared at the both of them. 

“What the fuck does it look like? I'm taking my hospital back.” 

“You can't. You signed it over.”

“Did I?”

You let another gunshot fly, getting Gabriel in the arm. He dodged, the bullet only grazing him. Shit. You heard another gunshot, dodging and rolling to the side. You shot the doorstop, making your door close so that no loose bullets could hit innocent passersbys. At least they had been smart enough to have silencers, so there wouldn’t be too much noise.

Your office was a good size, but it wasn't exactly a good size for a shootout. No place indoors would be. You needed to end this quickly. Right now it was a stalemate. The two of them behind the desk and you in front. You had to think. What to do… There were two of them and only one of you. Then an idea popped into your head.

With a deep breath, you shot at your metal cabinet, the bullet ricocheting and shooting behind the desk. You heard one of them cry out and a gun skitter to the floor. Luckily, they hadn’t been standing so the gun didn’t accidentally go off. “Gabriel!” You stood up quickly, pointing your gun at the otherside.

You saw Gabriel laying there on the ground, crumpled. Daniel was shaking him, but the man wasn’t moving. “He’s dead, Daniel.” You didn’t have to look to see. The rapidly accumulating blood on the floor told you enough. Must’ve gotten him in the neck.

The man looked at you with rage in his eyes. He turned, aiming his gun at you and just shooting blindly. Never shoot when blind with emotion - your father taught you that. First lesson. Luckily, you were able to predict that he was going to react like that, quickly ducking back behind the desk while the bullets made their way into your ceiling. They stopped in the softer tiles instead of bouncing off of them.

“How could you do such a thing, y/n?” You could hear the distress in his voice and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Says the man who was just shooting me,” you mumbled.

“We’re supposed to be family. Does that mean nothing to you? Gabriel even helped teach you how to drive a car. How could you treat him so coldly?” You sat there, astonished.

Was he really trying to guilt you right now? That was fucking rich.

You rounded the corner of your desk and before Daniel could even turn, you sent your fist into his face. The shock alone was enough to loosen his grip on his own gun and you snatched it out of his hands like taking a toy from a toddler.

You took him by the collar and pulled him in closer, glaring at him. “Are you really trying to use that on me right now? The two men who treated me like a stranger when I came to visit? The two men who just tried to kill me? The two men who were just banking on my mental breakdown to keep me from coming back?” You shook your head.

“Family means nothing to the likes of you. That much is clear.” 

“Y/n, please. Don’t do this. Think of all the good times we’ve had.” You acted like you were going to think about it, standing up and letting him go. He went to reach for Gabriel’s gun and you shot him in the head with a sigh. “Pathetic.”

Your therapist was going to be going into overtime. You were going to probably pay them extra these next few sessions. Maybe also get in a couple extra sessions. You had a lot of things to work through.

You closed your eyes, taking a moment. You were trying your best to keep it together right now, but you honestly felt like you were about to explode. This was the worst. Everything turned out so shitty. Everything had fallen apart so fast but…

Your mind shifted to what you did have. Pops and Marco. Corazon. Your staff. You just regained control over your hospital. Everything would sort itself out. You were sure.

After a moment of internal crisis, you glanced over to the desktop, checking the cameras. It seemed everyone else was apprehended as well. You saw them all knocked out and tied up in one of the conference rooms that was currently closed off. 

“There’s still one missing.” Your staff came into the office. Had it been an hour already? Shit, time was flying. “I’ll go look for them. Someone keep an eye on the others, one patrol the halls, and the other stay here and keep an eye on these two. They’re dead, but mostly make sure no one else wanders in to see them - and keep an eye on the cameras.” The three of them nodded and you turned to head out first.

You headed down the hallway. Everything was pretty quiet for the most part. It was late enough in the night that most, if not all, of the patients were asleep. It was a skeleton crew of staff as well. It was calm, eerily calm. Even though you had just murdered two men in cold blood in your office, things were oddly serene and it made you uneasy. You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

You suddenly felt someone yank you into an empty room and hands around your throat. Oh sweet fuck. You struggled for a second, clawing and trying to get them to let go. You saw it was another person from your father’s crew, the one you had just been looking for. Well, you found them at least.

Black started to encroach on the edges of your vision as you started seeing stars. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You decided to drop your weight, startling them into loosening their grip and you gasped, beginning to cough and rolling a away from them to give yourself space. You felt them run over to you, stepping over you to straddle you but you didn’t stop moving long enough to let them succeed and you shoved them backwards as you sat up, sending them tumbling.

You quickly darted over to them and before they could gather themselves and stand up, you brought their head down onto the floor, knocking them out cold. You were panting as you sat down on the floor next to their unconscious body. Fuck, that was close. You rubbed your throat, just knowing it was probably going to bruise. Any longer and they probably would’ve done some serious damage to your windpipe too.

You closed your eyes, flopping on the ground to catch your breath. Man, this was exhausting. You just wanted to sleep.

You let yourself catch your breath before taking your assailant and tying them up, sticking them with the others. At this point, it was starting to get light outside. You didn’t even realize that much time had passed. Maybe you passed out for a minute there without realizing.

--

Now, everything was running like it used to. You called in all the staff you had from the underground side of the hospital. They were stationed on both sides, keeping an eye on things. You would probably have to keep security up for the time being until you would resolve this issue once and for all.

With Doflamingo out of commission for the most part and Crocodile straight up out of the picture, you weren’t sure there was really much else to do besides confront your father. You just weren’t sure how you were going to do that.

“So, you really did it, huh?” You turned around, seeing Marco walking into your office. You’d long since cleaned up the mess you made earlier. You felt weirdly numb about everything. Maybe it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Some things still felt like a bad dream.

“I suppose I did,” you responded in a monotonous voice. You were painfully exhausted. Going from a hermit and depressive episode straight into action and fighting wasn’t exactly easy to do. Your entire body ached and you longed for sleep. “Wait, what are you doing here?” It just dawned on you - you didn’t call him.

“You should head home and get some rest,” Marco said with a frown as he examined you, ignoring your question. “Oh, that looks rough.” His eyes were on your neck. “That bad?” He nodded in response. You had been so busy making sure everyone else was okay and that the intruders were taken care of in a discreet manner that you hadn’t even had time to look at your own injuries. You know your had a few grazes from bullets as well that you hadn’t tended to just yet either.

“There’s still so much for me to do.”

“Well, run it over with me and I’ll take over. We can hold it from here.” You just looked at Marco, debating on whether or not to do just that.

Marco shook his head. “Sorry. I phrased that like you had a choice. I’m telling you to do it and that you are going to go home and rest after.” You were honestly so exhausted that you didn’t even argue with him.

For the most part, everything was taken care of. The intruders had been disposed of. Doflamingo was taken care of and sent back to his people in the terrible state he was stuck in. You had also made sure he knew that the hospital was still in your name. They had no legal hold in the issue. 

Right now, it was just making sure that no one else tried to take things over. It was a waiting game for most things to blow over. You weren’t sure if the families were going to try to retaliate or not.

You filled Marco in on everything, walking him through things as he patched you up. You had called in all your staff and even called in some older staff that had retired. Just to see if they’d help watch over the hospital. Luckily, they were all willing to help and you had extra security around the clock. At least for a little while.

Now, it was your turn to rest. You almost just collapsed in the breakroom, but you knew that Corazon was probably worried about you right now. Marco had mentioned something about him wanting to come but Marco had talked him out of it. 

“I told him that you would need motivation to go home and he’d be great motivation.” That had only made your face turn bright red. He wasn’t wrong, nothing was more enticing than the thought of curling up in bed with your boyfriend right now…he was your boyfriend, right? You two didn’t officially say anything, but you assumed as much.

Fuck, you were two tired to think.

You weren’t even fully there on the way home either. You blinked and you were in front of Pops’ house. Did you drive here? You were behind the wheel so you guessed you did. Maybe you really just zoned out. At least you didn’t get hurt and neither did anyone else. 

You weren’t going to do that again.

You slowly climbed out of the car, the adrenaline leaving your body. Everything felt like it was made of stone and you were sluggish in your movements. Not too much further. You yawned, stretching. As you stepped towards the gates, they opened, revealing Corazon. He immediately took your face in his hands and kissed you hard. It was now your turn to make a noise of surprise.

He picked you up, spinning you around in excitement. “You’re okay!”

Oh, sweet jesus you were going to throw up. “Oh fuck, please put me down. I’m going to hurl.”

“Oh, sorry.” He put you down with a frown. You shook your head. “It’s okay. Not your fault. I already felt like shit.” You took a deep breath, shaking your head. “I’m good now.” Corazon frowned as he seemed to notice the bruising on your neck. His fingers lightly traced the skin and you felt your breathing hitch.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he mumbled.

Before you could say anything, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you shoved him through the opening of the gate. “Get down!” You heard two gunshots go off and a car speed off before pain immediately seared in your back and shoulder. It was so intense that you weren’t even sure where it was originating exactly.

The world began to spin immediately as your body started growing cold and numb. Oh fuck. It wasn’t your spine. You were sure it was your shoulder and maybe your waist. Nothing too damaging - you hoped. Not that you were able to think much before your entire world went black.

next

[zushigirl]

In honor of Come What May…a three part story of how I wish things would turn out… Enjoy! I’ll be posting the full story on AO3 as we go :)

I Take My Coffee Black: Part I

Now…Metro General

“What the hell is this crap?”

Frank practically spits the hot liquid back into the flimsy white paper cup.

“Get off your high horse. It’s Folger’s Instant. Same stuff we used to drink in the desert.”

Curtis takes a sip of his own coffee, studying Frank under the brim of his USMC baseball cap. Curt’s blood shot eyes are a dead giveaway that he – like most of New York – have been up all night. Watching with bated breath as Daredevil and a host of superheroes take on Fisk’s minions.

With a sigh, Frank takes another sip of his coffee. “Goddamn - ”

He hisses slightly, the cut on his lip stinging. Curt had done his best to patch up both Frank and Red after the firefight with Bullseye. Makeup covered most of Frank’s bruises, but it couldn’t conceal the worry in his eyes. He can tell by the way his former medic keeps glancing at him… then at the door across the way.

“This is the best Metro General can afford?” he growls, trying to distract himself.

“At 0500? Yes, it is.”

Frank frowns, looking down the stark pale green hallway. Men and women in blue scrubs walk by at a leisurely pace. Unaffected. Unaware that the bravest, ballsiest woman on the planet is in critical care. Recovering from a gunshot wound.

Mourning the loss of her best friend.

“Foggy!”

He can still hear her scream the Counselor’s name. He can feel her panic, panic he never wanted her to feel. David’s feed made it sound like they were two feet away… instead, it took twenty minutes to get to the bloodbath. Even with Lieberman driving like a maniac.

Goddamnit, we should have gotten there sooner.

His eyes trace the entrance of the recovery room. One of those flimsy blue hospital curtains blocks a small window above the door handle. An added layer of privacy. Damn thing feels more suffocating than any red line.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Curt assures him. “They patched up the exit wound and the broken rib. That maniac may be an expert marksman, but she beat him at his own game.” He pauses before adding, “Karen Page must be a pretty special woman…to make you choose here instead of another war.”

You could choose…you could just choose…

Ocean eyes flicker in his memory. Why hadn’t he told her the truth that day, when he was the one in the hospital bed? He thought leaving her was the right thing. He thought…

Frank stares blankly into the distance as he takes another sip of bland coffee and tries not to think about what could have happened.

Thank god Karen clipped Bullseye’s right hand. The fucker was in custody now. Good thing too. If that psychopath ever made it out of prison…none of Red’s preaching would keep Frank from unleashing hell on Benjamin Poindexter.

Red…

The warble of Channel Five news can be heard from the TV at one of the nursing stations. A flicker of worry rises in Frank’s belly. He wants to be pissed at Red but at the same time…

“You were right Frank. I was just one bad day away. Please don’t let her’s get any worse.”

He can’t shake the hollow sound in Matt Murdock’s voice off of him. Can’t shake the image of the other man standing there in blood. His best friend’s blood. Karen’s blood.

Fuck.

“Mr. Castiglione?”

He turns. A new nurse has come on shift, name tag reads Temple. Her dark brown eyes hover on his cut lip. He gets the impression she takes no bullshit.

“Yes ma’am?”

The nurse sighs, pursuing her lips.

“Karen’s going to be okay.”

She says the name with a warm familiarity. Frank immediately wonders how much this woman knows.

“Blood pressure and heat rate are stable. No signs of any complications from surgery.” Temple hesitates… “Your wife’s a fighter for sure.”

Frank doesn’t meet Curt’s gaze, just prays the other man’s eyes aren’t bursting out of their sockets. There hadn’t had time to brief him on the plan. He was just thankful David was quick to pull some strings. A fake marriage license and a passport may be their only ticket to safety.

The woman pauses, eyes narrowing in the silence.

“I know I haven’t been back in town that long, but I’m kinda miffed no one invited me to the wedding. Thought I would have heard about from Matt or Fog…”

She catches herself, sadness flashing across her face.

“Fuck…I’m sorry.”

“No – uh – he’d…he would have wanted all of Karen’s friends to know.” Frank feels his throat tightening. “He loved her too. Probably better than me or… Re…or Matt … if I’m being honest.”

He remembers the look of stricken panic on the Counselor’s face all those years ago. When he’d asked Karen to stay. What would the man’s reaction be to what he asks now?

An older nurse approaches, waving his clipboard at Temple. “She’s up,” he gestures towards Karen’s room. “Threatened to pull out her IV if I don’t get her a real cup of coffee. Told her it’s water only for the next twelve hours. She wasn’t happy.”

Frank chuckles despite himself. “Atta’ girl,” he murmurs.

“Are you coming, Mr. Castiglione?”

The way Temple sizes him up conveys that she trusts him even if she doesn’t believe his story.

He feels his pulse jump. They’d seen each other in the midst of the fight but they hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t spoken since that horrible day when she walked out of his hospital room barefoot. What could he say to her? How could he possibly ask her to –

“She’s waiting, Frank.” Curt’s voice is one of gentle reassurance.

He takes a deep breath, turns on his heels, the stops. “Curt… go home. You’ve done enough. I’ll stand the watch.”

His friend frowns. “You sure man?” I don’t mind staying.”

Frank pauses before answering, a memory flickering in his mind’s eye. Karen and Nelson, sitting at the hipster coffee shop across from their law firm. Sipping coffee and going over case notes. He’d watched from the roof two streets over, not proud to admit the number of times he’d checked on Karen from afar.

“Proof Coffee opens at 0800. Can you come back tomorrow morning with a real damn cup? Make that two. She takes hers black with a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

The nurse seems impressed that he knows Karen’s drink of choice. Curt has enough ware with all to keep a neutral face.

“I’m on it. I’ll let Lieberman know your staying here. See you in 27 hours.”

He spins on his heels and walks down the hall.

Frank watches him go, then follows nurse Temple across the waiting area. She opens the door to the recovery room, pushing back that damn blue curtain quietly. Then she gestures for Frank to step in front of her.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of the vitals monitor is a steady hum. It’s oddly comforting.

And terrifying.

It means Karen is awake. It means he’s about to speak to her for the first time in… far too long.

He finds the courage to look forward and he sees her. Sitting upright in the bed. Face turned to the window. The sunrise casting her in a celestial glow. Her expression is a haunted one Frank knows all too well…but not the shock of someone who’s new to trauma.

He realizes in that moment that his gut instinct was right. Karen’s felt this kind of pain before.

“Karen, your husband is here.” Temple’s voice is gentle.

A quiet feels the air. Time stops. In the void, Frank wonders if his heartbeat is loud enough for Red to hear all the way across Manhattan.

He watches Karen turn her head. Watches her eyes widen in confusion at the word husband. Then recognition. Then something he’s too scared to name.

They’re both silent for a moment, not noticing as the nurse slips out. Then tears are welling in Karen’s eyes and Frank is falling to his knees by her hospital bed.

“Hey, hey,” he chokes out. “I lied. I lied. Okay? That day…Karen…”

Soft fingers grab his trembling ones. He places his free palm over hers, holding with two hands now.

“I know you lied, you asshole,” Karen says between sobs. “You’re such an asshole…but I…” Her ocean eyes are bright with the words they won’t say yet.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, I am.”

“Please tell me you brought real coffee.”

The sound of footsteps silences Frank’s answer.

*

27 hours later…

“I’ll take three drip coffees,” Curtis Hoyle smiles at the barista, waiting for a response.

The bleary-eyed girl with wild auburn tinted hair and a cut-off t-shirt reading MJ just blinks at him.

“Cool. You want room for milk or cream?”

“No…uh…actually, can you sprinkle some cinnamon in one of them.”

The girl gives a half nod as Curtis swipes his card. He sighs, stepping to the side of the cheerful yellow counter. He knows he’s getting old, but whoever Proof Coffee’s manager is could have done a better job with hiring. MJ has the bedside manner of cardboard; not great for 0800 on a Thursday –

Piiinnnggg!

The girl passes three paper cups to Curt, hurriedly grabbing her phone from its charging station. He takes a few sips of his cup, watching her agitated movements.

“Peter! Jesus Christ! Is everyone okay…”

Her hazel eyes widen in relief and Curtis feels guilty for judging her. MJ’s been worried.

“News. Alright. I’ll take a look. Be careful.”

The call’s barely over before the teen is swiping on her phone. Curtis takes a final swig of his own coffee while grabbing to-go lids, trying to look casual.

“Everything good? You seem a little stressed.”

MJ bobs her head, flipping her phone in Curtis’s face. Apple News.

“Shit,” Curtis mutters as he reads the screen.

He turns to leave, then thinks twice. Grabs the two coffees. He may need them as an excuse to sneak back into the hospital.

“Thank you, Miss!”

He leaves MJ staring at her phone. At the headline…

FRANK CASTLE, THE PUNISHER, REPORTEDLY SEEN AT METRO GENERAL.