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in1-nutshell · 8 months

Note

Hello! Sorry I’ve been putting a lot of asks. You can feel free to push this one later. I just wanted to submit this ask while I still remembered this idea. A while ago I read your post about Optimus Prime with a daughter who was his exact opposite, and I loved that one! So may I request a similar idea with TFP Ratchet? Like TFP Ratchet with a daughter bot Buddy who is his exact opposite. Like who had a gentle and sweet and that “Does it hurt here? Aww, you poor thing” “Hey you are doing so much better! Aww! Great job” type of classic cartoon nurse personality, as well as the classic “I love these little creatures! Can we keep them? Father pleaaase?” type of little girl personality (probably to the humans, to Ratchet’s dismey). And she also looked up to Arcee a lot. Like, A LOT! Her absolute idol! she would want to copy every way Arcee talk and behave (even the bad examples)(much to Ratchet’s dismay) and copying the way Arcee battle too. And thanks to Arcee she now wished she could join the battlefield and do all these wonderful cool and dangerous things too! (Once again, much to Ratchet’s dismey)

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES! Give Ratchet a child!

Hope you enjoy!

Ratchet with a daughter who has the exact opposite personality to his own

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Buddy was originally a sparkling from a dear friend of Ratchet and Orion Pax’s.

Their caregiver was an extremely pacifistic bot who wanted nothing more than peace on Cybertron. But once in a while the caregiver would join a rally with Pax and Ratchet. They believed in change and agreed something needed to be done.

They sadly passed away from natural causes one day when they dropped Buddy off at his clinic to pick up some rust sticks for Buddy. The two friends were devastated hearing the news while the sparkling was happily playing around with her toys.

Their caregiver had placed Ratchet as the primary care giver if anything should happen, Orion was to be the sparkling godparent.

Ratchet took on the new duties immediately.

It was the least he could do for his friend and the sparkling.

Ratchet made sure to let the sparkling know what happened to their caregiver when they were older.

“And that’s the story.”--Ratchet

“So, they’re really gone then?”--Buddy

“Yes…”--Ratchet

“…Does that mean I can’t tell bots you’re my caregiver?”--Buddy

“What?”--Ratchet

“I mean, you take care of me, you feed me, you help me with stuff I don’t know, you helped me choosing my alt mode, you let me rant when things get too much, and you love me… right?”--Buddy

“Of course, I do!”--Ratchet

“Then?”--Buddy

“…I am…I…”--Ratchet

“You don’t have to say it if you aren’t ready. I love you, you take your time.”--Buddy

“… I love you, Buddy. I love you, my sparkling.”--Ratchet

“To Luna 1 and back?”--Buddy

“To Luna 1 and back.”--Ratchet

The sparkling grew up with a peculiar personality contrasting his.

She wasn’t as sarcastic as he was. If fact it was rare to hear her say sarcastic things. Buddy rather expressed herself open when she could.

“Hi Arcee! Hi Cliffjumper! How was patrol this evening?”--Buddy

“It was fine. Not a Con in sight.”--Arcee

“And too bad too. We would have knocked out their processors out right away!”--Cliffjumper

“Any wounds today? Dents? Dinges? Scratches?”--Buddy

“Yeah I think some of the gravel clipped my servos.”--Cliffjumper

“Oh! Let me!—”--Buddy

“He was joking Buddy.”—Arcee

“Oh…”--Buddy

“…But I do have some cool looking rocks to add to your collection.”—Cliffjumper

“Really! Awesome! Let me go get my collection right now!”—Buddy

“Nice save.”--Arcee

“No thanks to you ‘Cee.”--Cliffjumper

She was a very sensitive individual and extremely empathetic in nature. Just like her former Caregiver, a near perfect image of them.

That being said, Buddy did pick up some of Ratchet’s habits.

Sleep schedule? Never heard of them.

Perfectionist? Absolutely.

Think highly of a certain bot? Yes, but not the same one.

Buddy cleaning some of the medical equipment.

Bumblebee coming out from his habsuite.

“Beep beop! (Morning Buddy!)”--Bumblebee

“Morning? But it was just—oh! God morning Bumblebee!”--Buddy

“Beep… bep bep bop? (Buddy… how many hours did you sleep?)”--Bumblebee

“… So, are you going to pick up Raf today?”--Buddy

“Bep beep (Like Daughter like Father)”--Bumblebee

“Hey!”--Buddy

“Bep bop? (Am I wrong?)”--Bumblebee

“…No…”--Buddy

Buddy stayed by Ratchet’s side through the thick and thin as his nurse. It seemed like the best role for Buddy to play. They did get taught by the very best anyways.

The kids for the longest time thought that Buddy was simply a student to Ratchet.

“Hey Buddy, do you have parents?”--Miko

“Miko!”--Jack

“What it’s a valid question.”--Miko

“Umm… I’m confused. You know him already.”--Buddy

“Wait your parent is one of the bots on the Team?”--Raf

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Buddy

“Who is it! I bet its Optimus!”--Miko

“Actually, he is my godparent as you’d say it on Earth.”--Buddy

“Then who?”--Raf

“Ratchet.”--Buddy

“RATCHET!?”--Miko

“What’s wrong?!”--Ratchet

“You’re Buddy’s dad!?”--Miko

“Yes? I thought you knew already.”--Ratchet

“That’s what I said!”--Buddy

“But how—I want a Cybertronain DNA test, cause there is no way sweety Buddy is related to salty you.”--Miko

“I’m actually adopted Miko.”--Buddy

“Oh?”--Miko

“But that doesn’t mean you aren’t my daughter, Buddy.”--ratchet

“And that doesn’t mean you aren’t my father Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Wow…”--Jack

“This is too cute I’m going to go puke.”--Miko

“And you ruined it.”--Jack

This clears a lot of things for the humans.

Buddy was the eldest of the youngest group on Team Prime. She took her job as big sister seriously with Bumblebee and later with Smokescreen. She made sure to always be there for them in any way she could figure out was necessary.

The two bots enjoyed having someone have their backs and fixing them when they came back from patrol.

“Hey Smokes’, you’re doing amazing there.”--Buddy

“Really?”--Smokescreen

“Yeah, just a bit longer and you’ll be on your pedes in no time!”--Buddy

“Yeah!”--Smokescreen

“Then you can start the physical therapy.”--Buddy

“Can I skip that?”--Smokescreen

“Did I studder?”—Buddy

CRUNCH!

Bumblebee accidentally crushed a tool with his pede.

“Bee… Honeybee… I needed that.”--Buddy

Ratchet on the other side of the base.

“…I suddenly feel proud for some reason?”--Ratchet

Like Ratchet Buddy looked up to certain teammates.

While Ratchet looked up to Optimus, Buddy looked up to Arcee.

Buddy saw a hero and great friend in Arcee.

A part of Buddy, like Ratchet, wished she could do more to help the team. When she saw Arcee sparring and hearing the retellings of her stories, she could only imagine doing the stuff Arcee could do.

“Then what happened?”--Buddy

“That’s when me and Cliff went into the groundbridge while Shockwave shot at us with his canon.”--Arcee

“I remember hearing that cliff was knocked unconscious when he went into the portal. What did you do to Shockwave?”—Buddy

“Are you sure you want to know?”--Arcee

“Absolutely!”--Buddy

“Heh…I shot the Cyclops right in that giant optic of his! He fell straight back to Cybertron with a BANG!”--Arcee

“COOL!”—Buddy

“Please don’t influence my child.”--Ratchet

“No promises.”--Arcee

“Yeah, no promises!”--Buddy

“…Maybe you were right…”--Arcee

Ratchet just hopes that Buddy doesn’t follow Arcee exactly.

He is too old for these jump scares.

And its not like Buddy would go into battle with nothing more than their med kit for Arcee alone, right?

Right?

#transformers x reader #transformers #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp arcee #tfp arcee x platonic reader #tfp ratchet #tfp ratchet x platonic reader

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lockes-woods · 3 months

Text

That's on Period(t)

(1/2)

A/N:

Mihawk eases your period pain in a way only he knows how. This was supposed to be a short drabble pwp, but apparently, I can't write straight smut, I have to have a plot. No request; just the ramblings of a dysphoric enby.

Mihawk x reader (x Shanks in spirit)

Content warning; period sex, dysphoria, fingering, and P in V sex.

MDNI

This low-key ended up being 4715 words (longer than most of my chapters in my other fics). This one kinda got away from me, hopefully, it's coherent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An unintentional groan escaped you as you shifted in your seat trying to find a comfortable position. Despite the fact that you had been camped out on your couch for the better part of the past ten hours nothing felt right. You felt powerless as another onslaught of cramps started in your lower abdomen. You whined as you hugged your heating pad as close as you possibly could to your lower stomach, praying to whoever was listening that it would stop. At this point, you wish you could cut yourself open and stuff it inside of you. Every sharp pain felt like your uterus was screaming to make its presence known. That paired with the breast tenderness that made it impossible to bind left you feeling like a dysphoric wreck.

It didn’t help that the last time you were out you kept getting misgendered by everyone you encountered from older women needing help reaching the top shelf in the grocery store to the pharmacy tech that helped you fill your birth control prescription. The latter also dead naming you because you haven’t been able to legally change your name yet. If you weren’t so desperate to make sure you could start up on your next pack as soon as possible you would have avoided that interaction altogether. Logically you knew they were just doing their job, but it was still a shitty situation to go through when you already felt awful. You were counting down the time in hours til you could start your next pack of birth control and put a stop to this mess.

You just had to wait til Sunday at seven in the morning when you took that along with your other morning medications. You immediately regretted glancing down at the time on your phone. The countdown you had going on informed you that you still had eighty-two and a half hours of your period left. You sighed to yourself; you still have over three days to go. You were just thankful that you had off from work today. You needed time alone after all the triggering encounters you had the day before. Most of them wouldn’t even have been a blip on your radar normally, but your hormone imbalances made each small inconvenience feel life-altering. That was the main reason you hated your period, while the dysphoria and physical pain sucked, it was most annoying not being able to regulate your emotions regularly. You still felt bad about snapping at your roommate before he left for his shift.

Shanks was always annoying and a bit of a brat but his comment about how cute you looked in your Christmas pajama pants and oversized t-shirt (that you had stolen from him) was the last straw. He was always playfully flirting with you. While you knew it meant nothing to him it pulled at your heart as a constant reminder you would never be anything more than friends. It wasn’t like you wanted him to break up with his boyfriend. It was quite the opposite you often wished the three of you could be something more but you knew that was a pipe dream. You still felt sensitive about your lingering crush on him and his boyfriend. Those feelings were only amplified by your hormone imbalance.

You had told him to fuck off and threw pillows at his head til he made his way out of the apartment. While this was far from the first time you had told him to fuck off it was the first time you said it in a genuine tone; instead of your normal playful way. You knew you would just need to buy him a beer the next time you went out to apologize, but it still made you cry in frustration as soon as you were alone in the apartment. Because of the nature of his job as a firefighter you hated leaving things on a bad note before his shifts. It was in a similar vein as the old saying that you should never go to sleep angry. Despite your exhaustion, you’d probably end up staying up until he got home at one in the morning out of guilt.

Speaking of Shanks, his boyfriend, and your defacto third roommate, should be home soon from his twelve-hour shift at the hospital. You had an anxious turn in your stomach at the thought of him. You hoped that he hadn’t told Mihawk about your altercation. It was already hard to get a read on him and you didn’t know if you could handle him being mad at you while your emotions were already a hot mess. You tried not to focus on it as you queued up another episode of your comfort show and snuggled deeper into your secondhand couch. You absent-mindedly snacked on the candy and chips you had strewn about the coffee table. Your eyes began to droop as you took in the familiar storyline you had seen countless times. You had just begun to phase out into sleep as you heard the familiar opening and firm shutting of the apartment door. A groan was pulled from your throat as you suddenly shot up into a sitting position causing a cramp to shoot through you. Blinking up with bleary eyes you took in Mihawk slipping out of his shoes and placing them on the rack next to the door.

“Hey, Angel did I wake you?” Mihawk asked, staring down at you with his honeysuckle eyes, as he slipped off and hung up his work bag.

“No?” You said, shifting in your seat for a more comfortable position. Your passing grimace as another round of cramps cut through you wasn’t lost on Mihawk.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked, taking a seat on the armchair facing you.

“Not really,” you sighed, “I’ve been tethered to this heating pad all day and the Tylenol I took barely took the edge off of my cramps. I wish I wasn’t allergic to ibuprofen.” You groaned as the cramping continued.

“Have you tried any alternative methods to relieve the pain?” he asked.

“Like what?” you asked back, outside of drugs and heating pads you weren’t aware of any other methods to ease cramps.

“I’ve heard orgasms are a good method to combat menstrual cramps.” He answered casually. You immediately broke eye contact and began to play with the frayed edges of your well-loved heating pad. You could feel the heat rush to your face at his suggestion. While you weren’t a virgin, you were still kinda prudent when it came to things of a sexual nature. You were getting better at feeling less embarrassed about discussions involving sex, but it was times like these that you reverted back to your abstinence-only upbringing. It didn’t help that one of your closest friend’s very attractive boyfriend was the one prompting the conversation. You were so in your head that you didn’t hear Mihawk shift from the recliner to the cushion next to you on the couch until you felt the coldness of his hand tilting your chin upward to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way, it was just a suggestion. You know we hate seeing you in pain.” He said.

“It-It’s okay, I just don’t know if the mess is worth it.” You said meeting his gaze. Your heart softened at the concerned look in his eyes. It almost made you want to cry.

“You could always do it in the shower?” he suggested.

“What about the no fucking in common areas rule?” you ask, the look Mihawk gave you was more than enough to confirm what you already suspected.

“You motherfuckers,” you started pulling out of his grasp and swinging a pillow at him full force, “You really broke the one rule I had before you moved in?!”

“To be fair we had already broken the rule before and I moved in,” Mihawk responded with a slight upturn of his lip, “I believe Shanks’ exact reasoning was that we were grandfather in.”

“You’re the only other people who live here! Who else would it be for?!” you responded raising your voice at the prospect of Shanks’ audacity. You were about to hit him with the pillow again, before dropping it once you realized what it could have come in contact with.

“Both of you are cleaning this apartment from top to bottom on your next day off,” you say glaring up at him.

“That feels more than fair,” Mihawk responded, a smirk still present on his face. You were about to lay into him more before another wave of cramps made its way through your lower abdomen.

“Now are you going to shower?” Mihawk asked, promptingly.

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” you sigh turning your gaze back to the cloth covering your heating pad.

“How do you know before you’ve even tried it?” Mihawk asked.

“I i-it won’t-” you started, “I c-can’t” You tried again before giving up and attempting to make a hot exit back to your room. Mihawk locked his hand around your wrist in a firm, but gentle grip as your feet hit the ground. You could feel the heat of embarrassment spread from your face to your ears, back down to your chest.

“What can’t you do?” he asked calmly, keeping a steady grip on you.

“I-I, fuck,” you sighed, before reluctantly meeting his gaze, “I’venevermademyselfcum” You rush out attempting to get away, before Mihawk’s other hand grips onto your other wrist.

“Have you ever cum?” he asked, with no trace of judgment in his voice.

“I mean yeah, but only with certain partners. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone now, so it’s pointless to even attempt it.” You sigh, sliding back into your seat with a pout. Mihawk released his grip on your wrists once it became apparent that you were not going to try and run away again.

“Do you want help?” Mihawk asked. You almost laughed before meeting his gaze and realizing that his offer was completely genuine.

“But-Shanks,” was all you managed to get out before your brain stalled out. You were half a second from spirally before he gently cupped your face and pulled your attention back to him.

“Shanks will be fine with it, trust me,” Mihawk said as he gently ran his thumb against your cheek; gaze never leaving yours. “The only reason I can think of that would make him upset is the fact that I’d be with you first.”

“But-how?” you asked, still trying to absorb this new information.

“Shanks has been holding a torch for you for years,” Mihawk said, “He’s liked you from the moment you met.”

“Why’d he never make a move?” you asked after a moment.

“He did the night you met, but you just thought he was being friendly.” Mihawk explained, “He didn’t want to lose you, so he took on the role of a friend.”

“But we’ve been friends for over three years,” you responded, “He was the first friend I made in the city,”

“Trust me I know. I was jealous of you for the longest time, but after getting to know you I get why he didn’t want to lose you,” Mihawk confessed. He gave you a moment to process before continuing, “We’d love to be with you if you’d have us,”

“Wait-So is it an open relationship? Are you like polyamorous?” You ask trying to process all of what Mihawk had just told you, but your brain was too busy buffering.

“I believed it would be considered closed polyamory,” Mihawk said stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, “There would be three of us, and any of us can be together, but there would not be any additional people,” he explained, patiently. You nodded pensively, as you began to get what he was saying.

“Okay,” you reply after a minute.

“Okay? Like you’re in?” Mihawk asked to clarify.

“Yeah, I’m still not totally sure what the logistics would be, but I know I want you both.” You confessed looking up at him through your lashes. Mihawk didn’t waste a momentary second before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You moaned as his tongue came into contact with yours for the first time, you let him lead the kiss. One of his hands remained cupping your face the other gripped your waist and pulled you into his lap. A gasp escaped you as you felt his hard-on press against your core. You let out a loud unobstructed moan as he pulled back from the kiss and began to nip down your neck, while shamelessly grinding up against you.

“Fuck, Mihawk” you whine, before his lips once again connected with yours. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck as he stood up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom. He delicately placed you on the bathroom counter, you whined at his loss as he pulled back and stripped off his top. You bit your lip to contain a groan as you took in his backside when he turned to turn on the shower. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him shirtless, but it was the first time you felt okay checking him out. Steam began to envelop the bathroom as he stalked back towards you.

“Are you sure you’re okay going from kissing straight to period sex?” You asked looking up at him.

“Angel, I’m a surgical resident; little blood isn’t going to scare me off,” he said, with a small quirk on his lips, “Are you okay with going straight to sex?” he asked as he stroked the waistband of your pajama pants.

“Yes, Sir” you answered, a mischievous smile never leaving your lips as Mihawk gripped your chin and jerked your face upward in a firm grip.

“What did you just say Angel?” he asked with an unsettling air of calmness.

“Sir,” you responded smugly, doubling down, “That is what you like Shanks to call you right?” you asked, “Or is there someone else he’s calling out to when he cums?”

“Darling, I’d tread lightly if I were you; I’d hate to have to spend our first time together correcting your behavior.” He said, stroking your cheek.

“So, you don’t want me to call you Sir?” you asked, with an air of faux innocence. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you saw a phantom twitch in his right eye. You had only ever seen Shanks be able to warrant that reaction. You decided to reel in your teasing before you crossed to the point of no return.

“Angel, as long as you’re cumming on my cock you can call me whatever you’d like,” he whispered into your ear, nipping at it. The smirk returned to his face as an involuntary whine left your lips.

“Now, I’ll ask you again. Do you want this?” he asked pulling back to see your whole face.

“Yes,” you whined as a wave of cramps shot through you; reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

“And your safe word?” he asked.

“Peach,” you answered, “Yours?”

“Code,” he answered, “Do you have any hard stops?”

“Just please don’t touch my chest or refer to me in feminine terms.” You say trying your hardest to maintain eye contact while being vulnerable.

“Of course, darling,” he said pecking your forehead, “Is it okay if I take this off?” he asked tugging at your oversized top. You nod enthusiastically lifting your arms to help him. Once it’s off you tug off your pajama pants and period underwear leaving you bare. It takes everything in your power not to cover your chest as Mihawk takes you in; a soft look on his face.

“What?” you ask after a moment.

“I always knew you were a beauty, but I never expected you to be this lovely,” he answered earnestly stroking up and down your sides. You could feel the heat return to your face at his genuine response.

“Can we get in the shower now? I don’t want to bleed on the counter” you ask looking up at him. He nodded; your comment seemed to snap him out of his daze. He once again had you wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and walked over to the shower. He shed his pants and underwear before stepping in. A pleasant sigh escaped you as the hot water graced your skin. Thankfully you and Mihawk both preferred showers that were just below scalding. He placed you down and turned you so that his front was to your back. The shower head spray was adjusted to hit your lower stomach and core. An involuntary whine escaped you as you felt his hard-on pressed against your back. You were about to start grinding back against it before Mihawk placed a firm hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Patience, love,” he said, reaching down to rest his other hand above your mound, “I have to prep you first; is this okay,” he asked reaching between your legs. You nodded, spreading your legs to give him better access.

“Words,” he said, hovering right above where you wanted him.

“Please, Sir,” you whine, unable to grind up to meet him because of his other hand holding you stationary. He hummed in approval finally stroking over your slit. He made a few agonizingly slow passes before finally breaching your slit. He again traced your entrance twice before inserting a single finger.

“Please, Sir more,” you whined, “I can take it-” You started before a moan cut through you as he ground his palm against your clit. He looped his arm around your waist pulling you back so that you could rest your body weight against him giving him better access to your core.

“Shh, it’s okay, just let Sir take care of you,” he responded, placing a kiss behind your right ear, before kissing and sucking his way down to your shoulder. You fell lax against his sturdy frame as he slipped another finger into your core, he pulled another whine from you as his fingers thrusted and curled around your front wall. He easily hit spots you could only dream of reaching on your own. A cry erupted from you as he suddenly increased his pace and depth of his fingers. Now every thrust had his palm smacking down on your clit. His own urges reared its head as he began to shamelessly grind against your back. You moan in response as your own resolve fades quickly as the coil inside you winds tighter and tighter.

“It’s okay Angel, you can let you. Just give me one and I’ll let you cum on my cock as many times as you like,” he said encouragingly, before pulling you in for a desperate kiss. You put up more resistance than you did in your initial kiss causing him to nip at your bottom lip. Simultaneously his arm wrapped around your waist loosened and joined his other hand at your core. You moan into the kiss as he began to rub your clit in succession with his thrust. Your climax began to build as you both found a rhythm. You had just gotten used to the rhythm when he suddenly pinched your clit. Your climax snapped through you at the sudden change in stimulation. Your pussy held his fingers in a vice grip as you rode out your high on his hand.

You fell fully slack against him as you came down from your high.

“Fuck so good Angel,” he praised slowly easing his fingers out of your core, “Knew you’d be perfect.”

“Sir, please,” you whined grinding back against him.

“Love,” he said in a warning tone hand back at its station on your hip.

“I want you, please Sir, I wanna be full again,” you moan as the momentary relief from cramps lapsed and the pain in your core returned. You stretched your head over your shoulder, pulling him in for another kiss. You were so focused on his mouth you didn’t realize he had switched positions until the coldness of the tiled wall met your back. You pulled back in a daze now front to front. You were snapped back to reality when you pulled back and felt the twitch of his cock against your stomach. Your eyes widened as you took in his size. You now understood why Shanks was so loud during sex, if you were being fucked by that on the reg you’d be screaming too.

“Sir,” you say hesitantly breaking eye contact with his cock and looking up at him.

“It’ll fit,” he said, seemingly reading your mind. He rubbed reassuring circles into your hips with his thumbs, “We’ll go slow. I’ll make it worth your while if you can be patient for just a little bit longer.”

“Unless you want to stop now, I won’t be mad if it’s too much for you right now,” he said offering you an out.

“No-” You answered quickly, “I mean, I’m comfortable continuing,” You corrected yourself, trying to play off how desperate you were for his cock. Despite your efforts, a knowing smirk still pulled across Mihawk’s face.

“Are you sure?” he asked teasingly,

“Yes,” you replied much calmer than your last response. He nodded hiking your right leg over his hip for better access.

“Are you ready?” he confirmed one more time. He began to tease his tip between your folds as you said yes one last time. His cock was soon lubed up with your blood and slick as he gently pushed the head of his dick into your entrance. He rocked back and forth slowly allowing you time to adjust to his jarring size.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he bottomed out. You found it almost impossible to focus on anything other than the pulses of his member deep inside of you.

“Shh, relax darling; I got you,” he said, pressing you firmer into the wall as he once again scooped you up into his arms. Both of your legs were wrapped around his middle as he leaned into you to keep you from sliding down the wall. You were effectively sandwiched between him and the wall. You held onto him for dear life as he suddenly began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

“More, please” you whined desperately. You were so full of him that his tip just kissed your cervix without pressing into it uncomfortably. While the slow pace was nice at first as you adjusted it began to drive you mad as you wished more than anything that he would start to fuck you like he means it.

“Patients,” he cooed down at you with a self-satisfied look, “I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, tears beginning to kiss at the corners of your eyes. You wanted, no need to cum. The languid pace he had set was driving you mad.

“Sir, please,” you whined desperately.

“Please, what Angel?” he asked, the stupid smirk still plastered on his face.

“Fast,” you panted.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, with fake ignorance.

“Fuck, please!” you border-lined shouted, “I’ll do whatever you want, please fuck me” you cried as tears began to fall down your face in two lines, one below each eye.

“Anything?” He asked bemused with a smirk, speeding up slightly, but not enough to make cum any faster than before.

“Yes,” you cried. He hummed in fake contemplation before responding.

“Okay, but you owe me one,” he answered coyly before he slowly pulled out and slammed back into you full force. A sigh of relief leaves you before he leans down. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you at the new angle. He quickened his pace, stroking longer and deeper inside you at every thrust. Your nails dug into the pristine white plane of his back leaving scratched down the stretch of his upper back as you tried to hold on the best you could. All you could do was helplessly moan as Mihawk used you as he pleased.

“Fuck,” he moaned, followed by a deep groan of your name. You could feel the pleasure building up in your core as you quickly approached your end.

“Fuck, please Sir can I cum? I’m so clos-” you started before you were cut off by your own moan. Tears began to prick at your eyes again, not out of frustration like earlier, but at the pure feeling of overstimulation you were now experiencing. “I’m sooo close please Sir” you whined.

“Go ahead Angel,” he said before pulling you in for a desperate kiss that he dominated. That was all the permission you needed; your body seized up like you were possessed as your orgasm ripped through you. Your pussy milking Mihawk’s cock for all it was worth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out seconds before his own orgasm. He painted your stomach with his release, as your empty cunt clenched around nothing. He carefully lowered you back to the floor as you both tried to get your heart rates down to normal levels. He made quick work of cleaning your body as he raced against the now lukewarm water falling against your body. He had just managed to finish cleaning both of you seconds before the water went cold. He took his time drying your body, before bundling you up in one of his towels and placing you on the ledge of the tub.

A shiver ripped through your spent form as the cold air of your air-conditioned apartment invaded the space when he opened the door. A yawn escaped you as you patiently waited for him to come back. Your eyes had just begun to droop when he came back clad only in a pair of boxer briefs. He helped you into a pair of your period underwear and an oversized shirt. You bit your lip to contain your smile as you took in the logo of his medical school across the chest of the t-shirt. He had specifically gotten a shirt from his room instead of one of the ones you had stolen from Shanks over the years. You sleepily followed him through the living room and down the hall to the doors of your bedrooms.

On autopilot, you turned left to go to your room before a gentle tug on your wrist stopped your movement. You sleepily glance up at Mihawk and tilted your head in lieu of talking.

“You can stay in our room if you want,” he offered avoiding eye contact as a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“Oh, okay,” you say as the proposition snaps you out of your daze. You followed Mihawk in and crawled into the bed.

“Wait, what about Shanks?” you asked.

“What about him?” Mihawk asked back.

“Would it make him feel weird to share a bed with me without a heads up?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“No,” Mihawk said, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips, “I think it’d be a nice surprise; especially after a long shift.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply as fatigue begins to overtake your body.

“Do you need anything else before we go to sleep?” Mihawk asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Um, maybe my heating pad and some water,” you answer.

“Okay,” he nodded, taking off back to the living room and kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile as you lay enveloped in their scents. You managed to stay awake just long enough to take a few swigs of water and position yourself on your side with the heating pad flush against your lower abdomen. Mihawk curled up behind you, your fingers interlaced over your heating pad. You slept better than you had in a long time, especially for being on your period. You couldn’t tell if you had dreamt it or not, but you could have sworn someone had pecked your forehead and cocooned you between their chest and Mihawk’s. The faint smell of sandalwood was the last sensation your body recognized before drifting off to the next dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 2

A/N:

Hope you enjoyed this one shot! Hopefully, this can find some other baddies suffering through their period. As always thanks for taking the time to read.

-Locke

#mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #modern au #smut #period sex #18+ mdni #mishanks #gender dysphoria #cross posted on ao3 #nonbinary reader #afab reader

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eepyuii · 10 months

Text

frostbite — pt. 1

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; some swearing, mentions of wounds & medical stuff, dottore warning (?) he doesn’t exactly do anything but y’know- it’s dottore, sort of proofread

note ; i am so scared, i’ve never posted anything like this on tumblr or at all LMFAO this is my first fic ever and very self indulgent. ive already posted 5 chapters of this on ao3 but i was curious as to how the tumblr ajax kissers would react to it. im sorry if this sort of info tab isn’t very descriptive, im just basing it off what i’ve seen from the viewer’s perspective.

ALSO, for context- tetya= aunt and dyadya= uncle in russian!

constructive criticism is appreciated!

next part | masterlist

“hey, watch your step! snow’s gotten harder and slippier these days…”

“yes, sir!”

“yes, father!”

just as the warning rings out, it’s followed by the dry crunch of heavy boots against snow. it’s not the same soft sound as it was a month or so ago, rather it sounds almost as if the ice gnashes aggressively at the leather boots.

it gnaws at your ears painfully, though you’ve been sensitive to such sounds for as long as you could remember, yet you still flinch.

ajax notices right away. he always does.

“here,” he goes, the cloud of his warm breath visible. turning your head toward the boy, you see that he’s handing you his earmuffs.

a sheepish grin invades your lips as you wordlessly take him up on his offer. mind rid of the god awful crush of the snow, you come up with a brilliant idea.

“last one there’s a rotten catch!” you charge onwards with a laugh.

“ah, n-not again!”

ajax’s father only watches from behind as his son hurries to catch up, a defeated sigh leaves him. “these kids…”

said kids were already reaching the lake clearing at that point. the frozen water already has its own layer of fresh-fallen snow, making it seem like an entire new tundra- that is, until you and ajax brashly create footmarks and snow angels on the surface while his father is still yet to catch up. if he’d been closer you would’ve heard the old man’s grumbles about having to carry all the fishing gear.

thankfully, there were no rotten catches that day.

your best friend’s laughter and your very own echo in your head like bells in an empty chapel, uninvitedly. the entire memory is instead invited by the sight of a father on the street with his own children, he carries a bucket and fishing rods as the youngins run ahead excitedly. you conclude that you should’ve left for zapolyarny palace earlier today.

this morning cannot start off on a bad note, not when the doctor had meticulously scheduled an operation for this very day with your presence prerequisited.

you’re acutely aware of this.

you’re still acutely aware of this when you slam your work bag onto the desk with such force that even the fatui guard monitoring the palace hallway jumps.

and you’re still acutely aware of this when you almost bump into one of your boss’s segments on your way to the operation room, a most certain death that would be if you did bump into him. even as you break your stress fueled stride, the segment blocks the path forward.

“if i didn’t know any better, i would assume this is your first day on your first job. ever.”

you furrow your eyebrows confusedly while the segment coldly scrutinizes you top to bottom.

“even the lowliest of fatui recruits know that the first thing one should do after clocking in is get into the proper uniform.” he indicates with a snark in his tone.

ah- your lab coat.

“yes sir. my apologies.” with a haste in your step previously thought impossible to achieve without actually sprinting, you beeline straight to your office, which is conveniently on the other side of a very long hallway from the operation room. so long, in fact, that it gives enough time for a certain someone to slink into the office room without you even seeing it.

you don’t notice him even as you’re already inside the room. well, how could you with such tunnel vision, powered by your early-morning frustration and innate fear of disappointing the doctor. you’re practically out the door with lab coat in hand when he finally quips.

“uhm, doc?” the voice is shaky but still impossible to not recognize.

god dammit.

the tsaritsa was truly not on your side today. with a deep inhale, you do your best to keep a neutral expression as you turn around to face the head of red hair that haunts your dreams. or rather nightmares.

“how may i help you, lord tartaglia?” you still hated that title.

“well heh… this is the head nurse’s office, i believe you can help me by exerting the very function of this room?” the harbinger puts on a friendly front, acting like he can’t feel your burning glare. within it, you start to gauge at what’s brought him here, few surface-level scratches and even fewer cuts that are ever so slightly deeper present on him.

“i’m afraid i’m running late for an important appointment with the doctor, you’ll have to ask one of my subordinates.” you state matter-of-factly and start turning to leave again.

“w-wait, please!” he reaches out to stop you and the hand lands on your bicep, rather than your wrist which would’ve been a quicker latch. huh. “let me talk to him afterwards, he’ll understand. plus, i’m your boss as much as he is.”

“you’re quite literally not.”

“yeah, i’m not. still your boss though.”

childe is not of as high authority over you as the doctor is, afterall you’re one of the doctor’s assigned assistants, but the way he talks so casually and… playfully makes him seem even less bossy. but you don’t allow yourself anymore time to dwell on it, instead you roll your eyes and give in. your boss almost giddily sits on the examination bed.

the sterilized silk gloves slide snugly onto your palms as you look your patient up and down.

“how did you even manage to get yourself roughed up so early in the morning?”

“it’s never too early in the morning for a spar! though- hah… even i didn’t expect to take this many free hits.”

“who were you sparring?”

“eh, some junior lieutenants at the northwest wing. there were some new recruits there too so i figured i’d set an example for ‘em.”

northwest wing..? you visibly pause at the revelation.“that’s… on the other side of zapolyarny palace.”

“so?”

“so there’s nurses there too.”

childe himself seems to pause then- you were catching onto him. he realizes he must think about his next actions as carefully as humanly possible.

“ahah… a-are there?”

good one, ajax.

you look down at the alcohol-soaked cotton ball sitting snugly between your tweezers and then up to a scratch right above childe’s eyebrow- seems like the perfect time to treat your patient. the sting comes before the harbinger can even react and much to his dismay, you keep the cotton ball on his forehead even as attempts to lean away from it.

“childe tartaglia,” you start, voice menacing and low. “did you orchestrate a sparring session with low-rank officers and get yourself injured on purpose to come see me?”

“a-ah ouch!” childe hisses. “surely you w-wouldn’t commit medical malpractice over something as trivial as this?” clearly he forgets who you work for, or pretends to at least.

“start talking.”

“okay, okay! yes, i did all that…” the red head sulks with a defeated sigh. pleased by the confession, you move away with your alcohol cotton ball of doom and give him space.

you watch the tsaritsa’s weapon of war crumple into himself, looking off into a meaningless corner of the room.

“i… i’m being stationed to liyue tomorrow.” his voice is entirely different from what it was when this entire ordeal began- quiet, hesitant.

“and?” is your response before you can even think about how douchey it sounds. it’s already too late when you see childe deflate even more and feel like you just kicked a puppy.

“and i wanted to come and give you the news.”

really? that’s all he wanted from this?

“then why go through all this effort of sparring newbies at practically the ass crack of dawn and lose? why not just come here and tell me at once?”

he scoffs bitterly. “like you’d talk to me under normal circumstances.”

the regret you were feeling from your cruel response from earlier quickly bleeds out into incredulousness.

“you haven’t talked to me under normal circumstances since we were fourteen.” you stab back and childe bites his tongue, he won’t retaliate this time. the rest of the appointment is spent in the deadliest of silences as you finish tending to his “injuries”. neither of you ever look up to face the other.

you pack up quickly as to haul ass from the office room as soon as possible. but not before you mutter stoically- “have fun in liyue.”

and childe is left to sit pathetically on the bed and contemplate his astronomical failure.

—

what a wretched week.

the days seem to take a thousand years each to end, the laboratory feels stuffier, the people less tolerable and you swear the pen in your hand feels heavier than a lead ingot.

“are you done sulking?”

oh yeah, there’s also the ruthless fatui harbinger you work under and the equally insulting bajillion copies of him. you know bajillion is a gross overestimation but you also gave up keeping track of how many segments the doctor has a long time ago, they’re bossy all the same.

“not sulking, sir, just… thinking.”

“thinking about the medical records you’re supposed to be overseeing surely?” he taunts and you can only scoff non-committedly.

said medical records were mere reports on several of the doctor’s past experiments and operations, arguably not worth such a commitment of your time or worth a hackling from your boss. either way the words and paragraphs had merged into blurred lines and incomprehensible messes in your eyes about ten minutes ago, you were only pretending to be doing something at this point.

the irresistible force of your boredom drives your gaze to anywhere but the papers in front of you, eventually settling onto a corkboard hung up on a farther wall of the doctor’s laboratory. tired retinas struggle to focus on the blueprints that are stuck onto the corkboard but they seem to have rough sketchings of… body parts? they’re definitely not human, no, instead the drawings indicate they’re robotical. on another blueprint is an unfinished rendering of the full robot body. the shape language is unconventionally stylized, to a point where they almost resemble traditional inazuman patterns or even… the patterns on scaramouches robes-

“l-lord dottore!! i have an u-urgent matter sent by lord pierro himself.”

huh?

“out with it. quick.” the segment doesn’t even bother to face the stammering officer that had bursted through the door right then.

“u-uhm… some of our liyue informants have reported t-that rex lapis suddenly p-perished during the rite of descension,”

huh?

“rex lapis, dying? well,” he drawls amusedly. “that would certainly be a sight. but how exactly does this development concern me? is the banker not available?”

“w-well y-yes… lord pierro specifically requested for your word on the matter a-and perhaps see if one of your s-subordinates could… be on-site?”

dottore’s segment lets out an exasperated sigh while a gloved hand goes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “unfortunately it doesn’t surprise me that the collective surplus amount of agents we have stationed in liyue harbor proves to be utterly incompetent to the point where the jester himself would come to me for help.”

a feeling of dread settles in your chest as you try to digest the insane information you’ve been given-

rex lapis, the oldest of the seven archons of teyvat, is dead.

pierro, the head of the fatui harbingers, is requesting dottore to send one of his subordinates to investigate the scene.

that’s you, you’re dottore’s subordinate.

which means you’ll be sent to investigate an archon’s death. in liyue.

that’s where he is.

your head feels like it’ll explode any second now. the segment, ever so brilliantly clever like his prime version, seems to have the same idea as you and beams a sharp-toothed sadistic grin.

“why my assistant here does seem to be available, wouldn’t you say?” he turns a serpentine stare over to you.

“err… i don’t think i could leave my post here, sir, i am the head nurse after all-“

“nonsense, i doubt the bumbling idiots of this palace will find themselves into anything more troublesome than a papercut while you’re gone.”

oh the irony of hearing that after your… situation the other day. you huff defeatedly, standing up to start packing for your impromptu trip. the mysterious blueprints in the laboratory long forgotten.

—

morepesok hasn’t changed a bit since you left.

which, as much as you love your hometown, isn’t saying much- morepesok is as uneventful as it gets. in such a small seaside snezhnayan village, the only points of interest are the painfully traditional values of fishing and family.

the visit to your parents’ house is brief but comforting, some teary goodbyes and heartfelt words about how pleased and proud they are of what you’ve accomplished for yourself- achieving such a high position in the fatui ranks by merely helping people. you don’t even consider telling them about the doctor.

but what makes you feel worse is the visit to ajax’s family home. it’s like the house has been frozen in time, the place where you spent years of your childhood is intact and unchanged- except for some newer family pictures, of course.

teucer, tonia and anthon are the ones to greet you first, then ajax’s parents come along. huh… ajax. you hadn’t even noticed the switch your brain does whenever you’re back home. here, he’s ajax but in zapolyarny palace, he’s childe or tartaglia. but there’s no time to dig yourself a deeper hole in that topic because you’re presently being pampered like a very own daughter of the house by his parents.

“my dear, look at you! you look so grown and mature… have you been eating well?” his mother walks up to cup your cheeks with the most genuine parental love. she, like the rest of the environment, looks exactly as you remember her, with a few newer white strands betwixt her bright orange curls. well, remember is a strong word.

“tetya, it’s only been a few months since we’ve seen each other, i’m all the same.” you laugh and she reciprocates.

“yes yes, i know… and- oh! as a matter of fact, we saw ajax just this week, said he was being transferred to a northland bank all the way in liyue!”

and when you thought you could not feel shittier about this.

“it is a shame to have our ajax so far from home so suddenly but at least we still have you, dearest!” she grins, pinching your cheek with more vigor than you’ve seen apparent in fatui sergeants.

“hey!” the three younger siblings call out in unison.

“yeah, a-about that, tetya…” you start hesitantly. “i’m… also being transferred to liyue. there have been some unexpected developments and i’ll just be on field to check up on things.”

ajax’s mother huffs incredulously. “by the tsaritsa’s name! they must hate mothers over at that palace!” she shakes her head with disappointment. “speaking of which, have you gone to see your parents yet?” you only nod. “good good… well anyhow, are you in a hurry, dear? i could make you some hot chocolate and then you’re free to be on your way.”

how could you ever deny your tetya’s hot chocolate?

the rest of your stay in the household is spent chatting with the family and playing games with the younger kids, as well as drinking a cup of hot chocolate so delicious you almost cry. the afternoon is nearing its end when you’re walking out the door and teucer is bawling his eyes out at your departure, or maybe he’s just tuckered out.

“have a safe trip, kiddo.” ajax’s father pats you on the shoulder firmly.

“thanks, dyadya, i will.”

“oh! and take care of ajax, make sure he doesn’t get in over his head.” this time it’s tonia who pipes up and the rest of the family nods in agreement.

“bye bye, everyone!” you’re already at the house’s front fence, waving back as fiercely as you can.

the only thing you don’t notice is the knowing look that is shared between tonia and her mother when she mentions ajax.

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kanasbinwriting · 12 days

Note

Um hello! I'd like to request something if thats ok! Could I request Micah from Error143 x reader with chronic health issues (insomnia, chronic pain, etc.)? If this is too broad or difficult, I'll be more than happy to change this request, just message me and I'll request something else! Thank you so much, and please don't rush yourself with the request, I'm in no hurry! Again, thank you and have a lovely day!

MICAH YUJIN X READER WITH CHRONIC HEALTH ISSUES

Thank you so much for your request!! I hope I did an okay job and sorry for the long wait, I had to do a lot of research and life hasnt been kind to me lately!

Special thanks to my friend, who suffers from insomnia, who helped me a lot concerning how to help/support someone with chronic health issues!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

-The moment you told him about your condition he immediately opened Google.

-He'll definitely do tons of research about your condition(s) to try to help you as much as possible

-Since chronic illness is a huge spectrum he quickly noticed that not every support method would help you

-So he 'sadly' had to give up the opportunity to impress you and straight up ask you about it

-It's a bit hard to help you, considering that you two don't live close to each other, but he tries his best to be there for you nevertheless

-He would drop everything if you called him (even if you just want to talk with him), it doesn't matter what he was doing

-Surprises you with tons of stuff that could help you with your condition.

-He's pretty impulsive when it comes to making decisions, so don't be surprised if you suddenly have thousands worth of things that make your life a little easier at your front door

-He's not shy when it comes to spending money on you, so feel free to ask for anything and he's ready to pay

-If massages help you, he would definitely buy you these massage tools since he can't be with you most of the time

-He understands that it’s often difficult to know exactly what you need, so he will talk to you sensitively about your condition to determine how he can help you

-If you struggle with cooking he'll definitely order you something - no questions asked

-If you want to do sports, he'll gladly Facetime you and join you!

-He'll always have an open ear for you, so if you're struggling immensely, dont worry your Micah is here!

-He really wishes he could stay with you as long as you need him.

-He'll definitely check up on you every chance he gets.

-But dont worry he won't just talk about your chronic illness all the time - he sees you for you and not just your chronic illness

-He will refrain from giving advice, I think he knew little to nothing about chronic illnesses before he met you, so he will rely on you to tell him what you need

-He'll always remind you if you have to take medication or have any important appointments

-He somehow always manages to write you on the exact time when you have to take your medication

-If you struggle with insomnia or have sleeping problems in general due to pain etc he'll stay up with you on call as he researches all the corners of the internet to find some trick that could help you, he even joins you in these activities

-One time he fell asleep on call due to one of these tricks and you couldn't help but snicker

-He felt so sorry when he woke up and noticed

-He's worried that he isn't helping you enough - so please reassure him, he's doing his best

-When he is at your place he will run any errands for you no matter how much you complain

-If you get easily irritated or have random anger outbursts he will try to keep his distance until you've calmed down

-I don't think he's good with situations where someone's mad so he rather take his distance than calm the other person down

-He would talk it out after you've calmed yourself down though

-He would love to cool for you in general so he's thrived when you let him do so

-He'll gladly join you at your appointments

-If you feel overwhelmed he would do anything to calm you down

-He's a big romantic goofball so he would throw tons of kind and reassuring words at you

-Even though he likes to talk, he wouldn't mind spending some quiet time with you

-He would always try his best to try to understand what you're going through and do his best accordingly

-He thought that staying awake with you would be easier when he's with you in person but he couldn't have been more wrong

-He would always do his best to understand what you're going through and try to act accordingly

#micah yujin x reader #error 143 micah x reader #error 143 #error 143 x reader

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cait-with-luv · 2 years

Text

Part 4 Preview

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst, eventual smut, Polyamorous!BTS Warnings: Mentions of murder, abuse, sexual assault, drugs, PTSD, explicit language, body dysmorphia, anxiety, body branding (Not sure if this is a warning but putting it anyway)

-------

“Hey Jungkookie?” You hum as he helps with your skincare routine with the products he had gotten you before at the mall. You had figured out that you had sensitive skin just like him so he had bought you some products that he uses to help protect and soothe his own skin so now after your shower, he was helping you apply them, demanding that you have to take care of your skin so you don’t have sore skin.

He smiles softly at the nickname, gently applying a toner onto your face and almost cooing at your innocent eyes staring at him curiously, watching his every move wondering what he was doing. He sometimes wondered how on earth you were a leopard hybrid. You were more like a kitten or a rabbit.

“Yes, Sweet Girl?” He asks with a smile on his face, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation to continue with what you wanted to say. He pat your head as a reassurance that you could talk to him without worrying, nodding as you open your mouth to speak.

“What do you all do for a living?” You ask quietly, noticing the look of surprise on his face, he hadn’t expected you to ask about their careers but he was willing to answer. If it meant getting you to open up to them more and gaining your trust more then he’d answer. It wasn’t like they had anything to hide anyway.

“Well, we all work in different things but we all work together in a way if that makes sense? Our jobs link us together. Not really mine but sometimes. Namjoonie Hyung and Yoongi Hyung work together the most. Namjoon is the founder and CEO of a Hybrid Protection company and Yoongi is the deputy CEO. They help any and every hybrid who needs it, whether they be a stray, from an abusive home, fight rings, auctions, literally anything. They make sure that no matter where the hybrid comes from they are safe and get everything they need. I guess sometimes I help out if they have too much on their hands." He begins smiling slightly. He was always proud of what his partners do, he places aside the products before focusing his attention on you and continuing,

"Hobi Hyung is a detective in the police force. He works on all kinds of cases, he likes to mostly solve hybrid-related cases, knowing that other stations can usually turn them down and go for human ones. He wants them to get given justice just as equally as humans do. Jin Hyung is a Hybrid Medical Doctor. He treats all Hybrids' injuries and any illnesses they may have, he wants to save and care for as many hybrids as he can, it breaks his heart if he can’t. Tae Tae is a Hybrid Representative Lawyer. He basically supports any Hybrid in court and stuff like that, whether it be a change in adoption, abuse cases, all sorts. Jiminie owns his own Hybrid Shelter. So he takes in any abandoned, stray, recently removed from abusive homes, even abandoned hybrid infants and children. He gives them a home they may have never gotten, and treatments for anything from medical or mentally, they have a choice of wanting to stay and live there or have a chance to have another home. He is so thorough with checking every single person’s background who comes in wanting to adopt. He’s very protective of them all.” Jungkook explains chuckling as you stare at him in awe, they were doing something barely anyone would do.

They all work with something related to hybrids. Wanting to protect them and give them more rights. Live an equal life as humans, to end the oppression and stigmas against Hybrids. Activists in a way. But you frown when you realize something. He had left himself out. He told you everything about his partners but not about himself.

“Well…what about you Jungkook? What do you do?” You ask as he sits in front of you and sighs giving you a small smile, taking your hands into his, looking down at them. Was he uncomfortable about talking about his career?

“Mine’s…a bit more boring than theirs, Sweet girl. I don’t wanna bore you.” He says looking back up to you but you shake your head at him with a pout.

“Nothing about you is boring Jungkookie.” You murmur, a blush coming to your cheeks when you realize what you had said out loud, purring when Jungkook pecks your forehead and smiles at you in appreciation.

“Thank you, baby, that was kind of you. I’m…a hybrid tattoo artist. Yeah I know it's not as extravagant as the others huh? I was just an average tattoo artist just tattooing humans but when I worked in a studio we had so many hybrid’s coming in wanting tattoos and my boss would just…turn them away. But they weren’t coming for a tattoo for the fun of it. They were coming in to cover up something that reminded them of their past. Like a bad scar or tattoo of their number, they were given from fight rings or even brandings. I felt like it was unfair, they just wanted a fresh start and they weren’t getting a chance to do that so I left and I opened my own studio for Hybrids. I don’t charge them anything so I don’t really get much profit, I get some humans from time to time and they pay because they want to keep my business running but I refuse to charge a Hybrid for wanting to cover up something traumatic to them. I know it’s not much but if it makes a difference for them to live a happier life, to show them that there are humans that care for them then I’m happy and hopefully I’ve somewhat of a difference.” He murmurs and your heart swells. His job was anything but boring, he had a job that would make a massive impact on a hybrid's life.

“That’s…the kindest thing I’ve ever heard Jungkookie. What all of you do. It’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone who cares so much about us, it’s special and I think I speak for all hybrids when I say this. Thank you. For being our voice…for being the ones to protect us and make us feel…normal. You should be proud of what you do. I may not be the greatest at expressing my emotions or understanding the simplest of things but if it weren’t for you guys. I would have had no future, I wouldn’t be able to have my eyes opened to the good in the world. I’m very very grateful and I promise to work hard on my healing and become a person you can be proud of.” You say shyly looking down, feeling your heart race.

Jungkook stared at you with a pout on his lips, squeezing your hands and taking a deep breath in. It was taking everything in him to not cry. It was the first time you had openly spoken about how you were comfortable living with them and how grateful you were for everything that they do for you. The first time he had heard someone really thank him and the boys for what they do. It only motivated him more. To give you a better life. To give hybrids around the world a better life.

-------

CHAPTER 4 COMING OUT FRIDAY 10TH FEBRUARY AT 9PM BST(GMT)! ALL-TIME ADJUSTMENTS ARE BELOW! AGAIN SORRY IF I HAVE MISSED YOUR TIMEZONE OUT!

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tarotnoob · 3 years

Text

What’s your secret? Pick a Card.

So, my intention was to ask the cards: what’s their secret, what are they hiding, what’s their fear? I will try to give a light analysis and a darker analysis. I don’t want anyone to feel bad about themselves or be triggered, but keep in mind - that’s a possibility. This is a completely judgmental-free space. I am not judging, you do not need to affirm or acknowledge anything - this is simply for any type of validation you seek. It can be related to shadow work. We all have deep stuff we don’t want to share or acknowledge. We may be in denial, we may have locked it away, we may not even see we do this and need to be told, etc...

With that in mind: Scroll to the pile you feel drawn to [Pile 1, 2, 3, from left]

PILE 1

Light: On the lighter side, you have the potential to heal others because you have experienced some kind of (emotional/medical wound). Often, going through any kind of challenge not only develops inner strength, but also increases empathy. I feel like in an effort to make others feel better if they are hurt, you try to make them laugh. It might also be that when you hurt, you deflect using humor/sarcasm/jokes. I feel like you’re sensitive, you might even be competitive to some degree. You might either work with friends or are attending school with friends or are working toward something worth celebrating. You could also already have a job or do volunteer work that benefits the community you live in, or possibly you have recently received good news about a health or medical situation if you were receiving treatment... I almost get the sense that there’s someone who’s been going through physical therapy or something like that because there is a vibe of recovery, dark thoughts, and then... pushing through something difficult. This can fit into anything, but I’m really drawn to pretty serious mental health or physical health issues here. Interesting to note, we have no wands here - emotional issue, a little mental conflict, possibly even a conflict with other people, and a sense of slower progress toward something tangible, also two 3′s, a 5, and an 8, which for me represent the themes: social/love/creativity; change/conflict; personal power.

My guess before I jump into dark is that there is a certain level of fire or passion that’s been absent for you. There’s also a sense of reflection or searching for something that is [lacking] because almost all the cards show someone looking intently at an object, two of which are obviously mirrors, cups, swords, inside the hat... the symbol on Chiron looks like a key. I also wanted to mention inn the description of obsession, it mentions chasing comets and Chiron is a comet. As a reader, it’s not really a coincidence, so with chiron representing wounds/healing and obsession being about chasing or denial... this is about denying a wound/problem and/or chasing something to fill a void.

Dark: I feel a few things coming up with these cards, so take what resonates for you. I feel like this could be a pile that obsesses about a hobby, person, physical feature as a means to distract yourself or avoid something. I also feel some of you could be a bit two-faced. I don’t mean outright liar, I mean what you show people - online through social media or IRL isn’t really you, and that maybe you feel if you show who you really are, people won’t like you. Through the obsession card, like I said, you could simply throw yourself into hobbies, but I feel this is about being obsessed regarding how others view you. Like, you want to be seen x way, you want to be liked or even hated, as long as you are acknowledged, receive attention, or can gain a following.

I think it’s possible that you might get jealous or envy others easily, especially online. Some of you may have even hate-followed people just to spy on them or sent not so nice anon comments out of pettiness. And this comes from a dissatisfaction in how you see yourself.

I feel like in the five of swords, though you may have been the ones walking away in defeat, I also see you as the smug guy who’s “won” the battle except with this card, no one really wins. This is like being mean and bullying someone online and thinking you got the last word or you block them or get them to block you and it’s just petty. I definitely see some online stalking.

Because of the numbers, I feel conflict and issues about change regarding social circles... backstabbing friends or envy/pettiness within friend circles.

You may have a tendency to brag or boast because a lot of these figures are showing off something, but again that makes me feel drawn to the notion of showing this type of life or relationship or whatever through social media when it’s not really as it seems. I mean, people say a lot of social media is just that, showing your best whatever, but there is some bitterness/vanity/pettiness involved in this feeling, it’s not just oh for fun I’ll show my last vacation pics. But, I guess it could be as simple as that.

At it’s simplest, I sense someone who fakes a lot of what they show to people out of fear of how others will see them if they show the real them.

Because the obsession card literally points out about a denial issue, there may be something you do, especially regarding social activities that you don’t want to acknowledge - like bullying or starting fights or stalking exes online, being obsessed with how others see or perceive you, especially regarding looks. Like, you have to post yourself online looking all done up, looking fit, etc...

But it’s all to fill something you don’t feel confident about... which is why the wands aren’t here. You may be showing something that isn’t authentic to yourself or your higher self... for the sake of superficial validation. Specifically of friends or peers or an online social community.

And keep in mind we ALL do this stuff. I mean, we’re only going to look down on murder, abuse, harm to others or yourself... but like, little dark stuff we think and feel, blocking people, ghosting them... everyone does this. It’s not GOOD, but we do it and it should be acknowledged and you should sit in it, as we all should when we need to face or confront our darkest sides.

And the Chiron card says we have to heal the wound before we can move onto a better path so once you figure out where these actions stem from, you can work on healing that part of yourself. I don’t think the dark stuff we feel is anything to be ashamed of per se... I’ve done some of my best writing when I’m feeling dark. So... well I won’t ask you to let me know if it resonates, but it’s food for thought.

---

PILE 2

As usual I see a little link with pile 1, so if you were drawn to both, can read the previous pile.

Light: Okay, so on the light side - sorry I wanted to stop and read up about the void moon because what happened is I had so many cards representing a “block” as if you’re blocking me from the secret that I pulled the extra tarot cards and then I was reading how the void of course moon sounds like reverse psychology because it talks about how things you WANT won’t happen, so what you should do is agree to things you don’t want bc they won’t happen, which isn’t especially helpful. It basically sounds like a more severe mercury retrograde, so the advice on that card is to take no action, but I’m also acknowledging all these messages with the 7 of cups, 8 of swords, void moon that there is a block, a stall, a weird cloud hanging over you... almost as if perhaps you have or will experience a string of bad luck or curse issues, heh.

That’s not a light message, but I want to get out what I see first.

Because in the 3 additional cards, I do see positives and Judgment also shows that there will be an “awakening” of some sort, which I can only hope means there will be more clarity on a situation that seems to be causing you some anxiety. It seems to be regarding a decision or choice... I mean as a metaphor, it does read like “coming out.” Or rather, it reads like being in the closet about SOMETHING because - wait we were going to do light first, haha.

Okay sorry. Um... there is a sense of putting effort or work into a skill of some sort, one that will aid in creating more personal empowerment and balance for you. I want to say that this involves justice or the right thing being done, so some of you may be working toward this now.... especially with the judgment card, it’s almost as if you go from worrying about what others think to breaking free of that, having this great awakening - and it will make you feel like you’re in control of your own life. This could also be that you’re worried about a career or job route and you want to do the thing that makes you feel most empowered. With the artist card, I would guess that a lot of you are some sort of artist or express yourself through or have a talent for any “art” related occupation, any occupation or hobby that allows you to express yourself. But it feels like there’s even heavier stuff going on because of Justice... there’s a sense of karma... or righting wrongs. I mean the balance could simply be about self-balance, but it could be that your talent is driven by social injustices or legal things, government things, politics, etc... which again feels like an issue about coming out. Perhaps you’re in a country or within a culture or family that doesn’t allow you to BE yourself or DO the thing you want, so there’s a sense of being trapped or being indecisive and not knowing what to do because you’re afraid of what people will think or how thtey’ll react if you “come out” as gay or trans or wanting to be a painter instead of a doctor or having x belief that isn’t what your fam believes.

And tbh, the moon card does give a sense of caution, fear - that it won’t work out or something will go wrong if you do x, y, z. I don’t necessarily think it literally means do not do anything at this time, but take that on board. There’s no shame in NOT coming out if you aren’t ready or don’t feel safe to do so.

But I DO see you taking up the sword, taking up the baton... I feel like this is your destiny to do so. But let’s get to the dark.

Dark: So I think we’ve already established that the “secret” feels more like hiding an aspect of yourself that you don’t want others to know about - whether it’s coming out about your sexuality or gender or a particular interest or hobby or career, there is a fear of being judged, a fear that is causing you anxiety, uncertainty, making you feel trapped, but all the cards do lean toward you have the POWER to escape this feeling or situation, you alone. IF you decide to do what YOU want to do. Downcast pride seems to be about conformity, by the way, so you may hide this part in order to fit into societal norms. This could even be about selling out artistically. Like, you want to be a writer, but you “sell out” by taking some salary job at whatever company.

On the other hand, you might have too much pride, I suppose. But, I see 8 of swords as being connected to the downcast pride because of the roots on the pride card coming from the elf’s neck and then the wrapping around the girl in 8 of swords. So, this sense of conformity, of throwing away your pride to bend to the will of what other’s think is what’s made you feel stuck/trapped.

For like one of you this could also be that... yes about being bi or pan but also being interested in poly relationships but not wanting to tell others or not wanting to try it out because you’re afraid. I get that from the 7 of cups, which is about having multiple choices, so just throwing that out there...

For a few it could be something as simple as... being a pretty wishy washy person, someone who really struggles to make decisions or doesn’t know what they want despite being, like, 38 years old. So there’s like this voice telling you: why don’t you know what you want when everyone else seems to have their shit together? Because there’s also this sense of having an inability to.... DO SOMETHING. Like, being paralyzed to some degree... but I feel the cards are saying it is up to you to work on this and discover your own personal power and to discover that, you’ll need to... find internal balance? I want to say do what feels right but I’m trying to understand why Justice makes me think that... but Justice is also about making choices and decisions, typically based on what’s right, but the LAW is obviously subjective, so think of it in terms of THE UNIVERSE’s law, which is simply... balance. For every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction... that’s not really helpful to giving you advice, I’m just saying universe law isn’t the same as man’s law.

I still think this is a very clear message to:

At the heart of the artist card is simply someone who expresses themselves. The color that stands out to me here is red, which is about fear, stability... might want to investigate blocked root chakras... in the temporary/mean time, wear more red, listen to root chakra healing stuff, get some root related gems or bracelets.

1. Awaken/come out, be conscious of your fear or issue with judgment

2. This will require effort to come to this place of personal power, like actual... work on your part, maybe even taking classes or reading up on self impreovemnt or confidence, etc...

3. That you will HAVE to make choices/decisions to get where you are being guided

4. Your conflict is because you feel you need to conform but in so doing, you’ve trapped yourself and are keeping yourself from moving in the right direction; in fact, all kinds of things might fall apart or go wrong IF you don’t change something or rather - nothing will change ever if YOU don’t do something

I get the sense that you don’t want to FACE this thing yet but you will, because then you’ll receive more confidence and power.

And if you’re quite young and feeling stuck, I think that if you have an opportunity to go away to college, you will find more freedom to do what you want and be yourself in comparison to where you live now.

But it looks to me that this journey from 8 of swords to Magician will take some time...

As for numbers - 7, 2, 2 8s, 11/2, 1, oop another 7, and 20/2

So, 2s, 8s, 7s, even 1s... there’s a lot going on...

I read this as an issue... that’s a lesson, that’s about something that could be hidden/subconsious/secret... that involves the self, personal power... and inner balance as well as balance within any type of relationships. So, what that means in comparison to pile 1 who didn’t have so many coupled up numbers is that your journey is a bit more complicated, with more lessons, not all of them easy to tackle or see... but where to start would be to work on yourself, your empowerment and any issues regarding relationships will follow, as well... and that you will encounter challenges/difficulties/karmic relationships - but they’re to teach you something, which I would guess has to do with self-resilience and independence, inner strength/confidence. You’re being forced to GROW internally through - probably - external conflicts or confrontations or issues. Like, some people learn because of some internal anxiety or depression or self worth, but I think you’ll grow because things outside of yourself will force pressure on you and you’ll either have to bend your knee or stand up for yourself and... though that’s tough, that’s ultimately where the universe WANTS to guide you, but the choice is always yours and obviously keep in mind that you are allowed to change or do whatever at your own pace when you feel ready or safe.

I also want to say something I came to understand recently is... there are no wrong or right choices. I often sit so long in indecision but the universe doesn’t go if you choose x you get a reward, if u choose y, you get a pie in the face.

What really happens is the universe warps around either choice you make... opportunities, good or “bad” will come from either way you go but it’s just ... making the choice. There’s no wrong or right answer other than moving forward. So, maybe that will help and maybe I can find the instagram post I saw yesterday that explained it so well. Hope that helps.

---

PILE 3

Interesting pile. For the record, when I just went to take the pile photo, the clock on my phone turned 4:44.The first thing about 444 to come up on google is basically about trusting your intuition. Ironically, four is also the number of stability, so... creepy b/c you have the stability card. And death adds up to 4. Four in numerology is again about stability but those who resonate with 4 aren’t so great with adapting to change. Death is often about change, usually a deep spiritual transformation or a shedding of a life phase to a new one. Like - childhood to adulthood or a whole new perspective on life.

I will also start off with the numbers since numbers seem to be important in this pile particularly - we have two sevens (sevens are like lessons or things that are hidden, secrets, sometimes lies or betrayal), 4 is stability and structure, 3 is love/creatvity/social, and 11/2 is a master number or about inner balance or partnerships of any sort. 11 is a combo of high priestess/magician - so blending your intuition with... leadership. 13 is pragmatism... security again.

I’ll talk more about what i am dying to talk about in the dark side of this - which is all these CAGE IMAGES OF BEING BOXIED IN AND STUCK IN A SMALL SPACE AND PUTTING UP BARS... but yeah - light first.

Light take: Okay, so there is a sense of solidity to you... like... being very strong to the point of possibly being over the top in how you... exert control over yourself or space... that doesn’t have to be a bad thing (yet), because it makes me FEEL that you are very capable person, a responsible person. Some of you may be going “nope” but there is the POTENTIAL for you to be this way even if you are a bit emotionally flakey... because I do sense a lot of earth energy here or big earth placements that make me feel as if sometimes you are capable of putting up a dry stone dirt earth wall to keep others out or even to prevent you from seeing or acknowledging something negative, and this could result in tunnel vision or self victimization, etc... which fits with the victim card.

But, like I said - you are someone who is either really good or really bad with personal boundaries. Some of you may be able to draw very clear lines. If you don’t want to do a thing you’re like “nope, not interested” almost too much on the blunt side but you know what you do and don’t want to do but this may result in some stubborness or some rifts between relationships where someone’s feelings get hurt, like if you are friends with a Gemini, I bet they huff at you a lot because you’re just too harsh and blunt; however, so what because if you know what you do and don’t want, you should say so. Granted, can you watch HOW you say it? Maybe? But I’m not here to tell you how to be, maybe the Gemini should grow a thicker skin, who’s to say.

What’s interesting is how this seven of wands which is usually like fire or passion for defending something... and then 7 of pentacles is patience and waiting on results. You’d think this is opposite even tho both are 7s but this is me seeing you PASSIONATELY defending your borders/boundaries. Like, you like THIS chair at starbucks, you want THIS chair every time you go because it is YOUR chair and you like routine and you like to sit in THIS space because that makes you comfortable, lol That’s what it feels like - and then those two butt up against the Death card, which came after those... and so it does make me feel there are issues here regarding change... that you are content to let things just be that way and that the idea of change may feel threatening or uncomfortable, which is why the pontiff (you) is putting his hand up to be like “no change don’t come to my village, i like things as they are b/c that’s comfortable”.

What I will s ay is I don’t think even if you’re blunt, you’re ever looking to hurt anyone b/c the bride image and the victim wearing white make me think your intentions are mostly “pure” or harmless, that if you do block people out it’s to protect yourself or your way of thinking or your comfort, etc... I’m not seeing this as in you went through something dark and put walls up - tho that’s possible - i’m seeing this more as... it’s just the way you are.

Some of you tho b/c of this bride make me feel like you are afraid of: death, getting old, marriage/relationships or various forms of mental/physical intimacy.

I know I blended in dark and light here but let me go into the dark full on.

Dark: So, like I said. This is a pile where you have put yourself into a box for the sake of comfort, you may be quite stubborn in your belief or perspective, you may be blunt and feel firm in these beliefs to the point you actively think other people are obviously wrong in what they think or how they do, you may even start bossing them like a Taurus or Virgo, might be rather judgmental of others and how they live their life, thinking you could do it better or more efficient. You are passionate in your beliefs and perspectives, but really you are desperately fearful of change, which is why you reject other POVs. You have good personal boundaries, but keep in mind that also locks out opportunities, especially regarding relationships. There may be a reason all this cage imagery is here - a fear of connecting with someone else, some type of intimacy because that would involve breaking down your wall or your beliefs and you might be too selfish for that. Not to say that doing what you want is selfish... it’s that when you become so enamored with a ritual or routine that you use THAT stability to fill a void of some sort, that void being a fear of change. You say - well I’m just being loyal to my beliefs when really you don’t want to change, so you don’t want to compromise in a relationship and then you just end up overpowering the other person because you haven’t learned how to compromise or how to allow OTHERS that space they need to be themselves.

And in so doing you’ve had relationships fall apart where you blamed the other person and went - but i was just adhering to my boundaries and they got too emotional about it, so it’s their fault; thus, you’ve set yourself up as the victim. People just don’t UNDERSTAND you even tho you never bother to try and understand them. Until you break down these walls to some degree, you may repeat this type of thing over and over. So even tho earth means responsibility it also means that... well it doesn’t mean you ACCEPT responsibility for certain actions. In terms of color, there’s (for me) a lot of orange (sacral), solar plexus - but there is also a bit of blue, green, red... so some minor throat, heart, root... that could indicate those are blocked or overactive while the sacral and solar plexus are... also possibly overactive or most... prevalent in what’s going on.

b/c i would GUESS your throat and heart ARE a bit on the... in need of work side. Because of HOW you say things or express things and how much compassion you feel for others - which makes sense - how you express things to others while considering their feelings >.> probs not your strong suit.

But on the other side of this - you would be able to offer pragmatic advice to friends, you’re probably good with money tho maybe you like stuff too much... maybe you hoard money or THINGS... it reminds me of what the members have joked about with jungkook (i always have a bts tie in). so he’s the youngest member and tho he was shy (he’s a virgo by the way so an earth sun sign) and he was also very selfish b/c he was probs a spoiled baby when they started, but there’s a joke where he used to say “what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine” or maybe it was the other way but you get the idea.... like there is an “earth” mentality of this is mine but also... those things that arent mine are mine too b/c... some people can’t step OUTSIDE of the box to realize other people have needs wand want space to be themselves, too, and don’t want to have to CATER to you or are being polite or may have a fear of conflict, so when you act selfishly they ghost you or blow up at you and you’re still left going - wtf just happened oh woe is meeee. when really you need ur hyungs to slap you upside the head and tell you to stop thinking only about yourself. i feel they probably did this with tae, too. (he’s a capricorn sun with a lot of earth in his chart). plus being the youngest is also a factor. maybe RM doesn’t seem this way bc his mercury is in scorpio, dunno.

so in conclusion - be more open with how others feel and think, you aren’t always right. work on your issues regarding change, change can be good even if it’s transformative and can mess up your routine. being stable is good, boundaries are good, as long as they don’t end up hurting others or keeping you isolated or always feeling attacked by others. it’s not always THEM. sometimes IT’S YOU. But there is a whole world out there - yeah some of it sucks, a lot of it sucks, but there is a world out there.... and if you want to build relationships with people... yeah... if you were not even aware that it was you, now you know.

thanks for reaaaaaaaaaaading!!

#tarot #pick a card #secrets #fears #Shadow work #spirituality #astrology #free tarot reading #oracle reading #general reading #advice

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pro-fangirls-unsocial-life · 4 years

Note

HEAR ME OUT: KIX BUT WITH MORE TATTOOS, I WANNA TRACE THEM 🥺👀🥵

DUDE YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE. (Am I going to become the tattoo blog cause I am totally ok with that lmao) Also sorry that this took so long to finally get to you. Things have been so crazy the past few weeks and I needed a bit of time to sort stuff out (and move hooray!!) and I just want to thank you so much for your patience❤ Also... this kind of got away from me. So instead of the drabble I originally had planned you are getting a 4131 word fic. I hope you enjoy!! (Also a bit of a side note, I plan on doing a smutty sequel to this in the future so... say what you will about that lol)

Also a HUGE thank you to @captainrexisboo for all of your help on this. I never would have gotten this finished without your unbelievable support.

Medical Canvas

Kix x Reader

Warnings: brief mentions of injury and the first half is just packed with ✨sexual tension and steamy stuff✨

How Kix had talked you into sparing with him, you had no idea. Five minutes ago, you had just been doing your stretches to warm up and now here you were. A sore side from missing an easy block and a small crowd that you could see betting on who would win between the two of you.

In all honesty, you thought that you had a fair shot at winning. You had managed to get a couple of good hits in and after working alongside the medic for so long, the two of you could practically predict what the other would do.

“Getting tired yet?” he asked with a smug smile and heavy breaths.

The two of you kept rotating around each other, fists raised in front of your faces and sweat covering your bodies as occasional cheers came from the edge of the mat.

You let out a sharp laugh. “Not on your life, pretty boy.” You returned his smirk and lunged in, flinging your fists out just for them to be blocked.

Jumping back, you kept your eyes on him, trying to gauge what his next move would be. “Oh! Well, if you find me so pretty, let’s try to avoid the money maker, shall we?” He gestured to his face, giving you a wink.

Oh, you knew this game. You and Kix had been playing it ever since you first laid eyes on each other. Teasing and flirting shamelessly with one another while avoiding actually addressing the tension and want that had steadily grown between the two of you.

The rest of the 501st could see it. How teasing jabs had turned into lingering touches and stolen glances. It was the reason behind the biggest betting pool in the 501st. When would the two of you finally stop being so oblivious to the others obvious pining and just do it already?

Jesse was the one who would change his bet the most. Every time he saw the two of you interacting, his timeline would change, and this time was no different. He had taken one look at you and Kix on the mat and immediately commed Rex to change his bet to within the next thirty minutes.

All of this was unknown to the both of you of course. You simply saw it as the guys trying to make some easy money off of each other while you and Kix spared.

“Ha! The money maker? I’d say those gorgeous hands of yours would be good enough to get the job done for you.” You laughed mischievously as you saw more credits being passed on the side of the mat.

Squaring your stance, you took a deep breath, readying yourself for your next move. Might as well make it interesting.

Kix chuckled. “Sweetheart, if you want to see what these hands can do—”

You spun around, bringing your foot to Kix’s side in an attempt at a roundhouse kick. But he was too fast. He grabbed your leg and wrestled you to the floor, straddling your waist. The wind was knocked out of you as your back hit the mat and before you knew what was happening, Kix had your wrists pinned above your head, his face just centimeters away from yours.

He angled his brows at you and gives you a smooth look. “—all you have to do is ask.”

His heavy breathing fans over your face, alerting you to how close he actually was to you. You could smell him. The earthy musk that all troopers seemed to carry that mixed so perfectly with the sterile scent of the medbay to create an intoxicating aroma that you just had to breathe in, replacing the dingy smell of the gym that you had grown to ignore.

The weight of his body is keeping you flat against the mat and your eyes go wide as you feel your face start to heat up. Your skin burns under his touch, sending sparks flying through your nerves and not letting your eyes break their lock on his face.

He stops smiling and his eyes go wide as he realizes the position that the two of you are in. The cheers and curses coming from the edge of the mat are all muffled, not breaking through the trance you had been thrust into as your heart rate spiked into your ears.

You don’t know how long the two of you stayed frozen against each other on the floor and you didn’t care. All that mattered to you in that moment was Kix and how much you wanted to feel his soft lips against your own. You glanced down at them, immediately bringing your eyes back to his and hoping that he hadn’t noticed your slip up. He was one of your best friends. Surely, he didn’t feel the same way. You didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You heard him let in a sharp gasp before his eyes bolted to your lips and then back up to meet your eyes. Suddenly, all of your thoughts were halted when he lunged forward, hungrily capturing your lips with his in a burning kiss that had your heart leaping out of your chest.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to stare at what was happening in front of them, but the two of you did not care. For all you knew, you were the only people in the universe at that moment. All you could see, all you could hear, all you could feel, was him.

Something in him broke, causing him to let out a deep moan as his tongue dragged across your bottom lip, begging to get more of the sweet cherry taste of your chapstick that had almost been overpowered by the salty sweat that covered both of your bodies while your hands fought against the hold he had on your wrists. You wanted to touch him, to feel the way his muscles moved as he was pressing up against you and to get more of the buzzing sensation of his skin against yours.

Kix lets out a deep groan that vibrates throughout his chest, keeping your wrists pinned with one hand and sliding his other down your arm until he is cupping the back of your neck.

“Stars you two, get a room.”

Gasping for air as Kix pulled away from you, you turned your head to see Jesse standing over the two of you. A smug, satisfied look plastered across face and his arms crossed against his chest.

Kix whips his head back to you, his breathing still heavy.

“My quarters?” you breathe out.

His eyes darken as a lustful smirk makes its way across his features. “Oh, absolutely,” he growls, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

He releases your wrists and crawls off of you before running off to get his things from the other side of the gym. You rush over to the edge of the mat, picking up your bag as Jesse trails behind you, the arrogant and knowing grin still displayed on his face.

“I should thank you. You just made me a lot of money.”

You turn to him confused. “What?”

Kix runs back up to you, taking your hand in his and gently pulling you toward the door.

Jesse starts laughing, bringing his hand down to hold his sides. “I’ll tell you later.”

With that, you shrug and start walking as fast as you can back to your quarters. As you pass by other troopers on your way there, you see eyes widen as they catch a glimpse of your hand entwined with Kix’s. Faces rise and fall and you see credits being exchanged between a few of the men you pass. You glance at Kix as you lead him through the halls toward your room. “I think that there was a betting ring on when we would get together,” you say with a laugh.

He chuckles. “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.”

You round the corner and finally make it to your quarters about halfway down the hallway. Letting go of his hand, you quickly input the code and the door whooshes open. Pulling him inside by the collar of his blacks, you both immediately drop your bags to the floor as your lips collide.

Kix reaches behind him, feeling around until he finds the door panel. You hear the locks click and feel his hands trail their way down your body, gently squeezing whatever part of you he can reach as they make their way, until they stop on your thighs. His fingers tap you twice and you jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

The kiss never breaks as he walks forward, stopping once your back has hit the wall and you let out a small sound at the force of the freezing metal meeting with your hot skin. He breaks away, leaving you gasping for air and missing the subtle minty taste of him as he starts trailing kisses down your neck, stopping at your pulse point to lightly bite at the skin there.

A small, breathy whimper of his name falls from your lips as his teeth continue to drag across your sensitive skin. You can feel him smirking against you as his hands dip under the fabric of your shirt and slowly slide it up until he gets it off and throws it across the room. “You’re so impatient mesh’la,” he growls as he starts aggressively marking your now exposed collarbone, desperate to push more pleading sounds out of you. His fingers start teasing your waistband sending sparks shooting up your spine as he presses delicate kisses against the tender spot he had just finished making.

Clawing at his shirt, you start pulling it up, exposing the tanned skin of his stomach. “Off.”

Chuckling, one of his hands comes up to cup your face, his thumb traveling along the line of your jaw, while the other travels down to your hip, placing it in a tight hold. He fiercely kisses you as your hands continue to try and pull his shirt off. “Very impatient,” he snarls out between kisses. He rolls his hips against yours, pushing a whine out of you. “Patience cyar’ika,” he murmurs against you. “I want to take my time with you mesh’la.”

You let go of his shirt, bringing one of your hands up to grab his jaw and force his dark eyes to meet with yours, giving you a brief moment of dominance. “Stop teasing.” Your lips crash into his, a lewd moan escaping you at the way his breathing speeds up. You take his bottom lip between your teeth before pulling away and looking into his lust filled eyes. Giving a small tug to the fabric you bat your eyes at him. “And take this off.”

“Alright,” he teases. “But only because I can’t deny a gorgeous thing like you.” He reaches his hands up and starts pulling the fabric at the base of his head up, exposing his stomach and lower back once again as your lips collide in another bruising kiss. Suddenly, a high-pitched beeping comes from Kix’s bag. Neither of you pay it any attention, too caught up in each other’s desperate panting and shameless moans as you continue to kiss each other until a muffled voice comes from the bag.

“Hey vod, I know you’re probably busy making Jesse a rich man, but I need you in the medbay. Hardcase and Echo accidentally blew themselves up again and have some legs that need to be set.”

Kix groans and pulls away from you, his head falling back to look at the ceiling. “I’m going to kill those two.” He gives you an apologetic look before stepping away from the wall, holding onto your midsection as you lower your legs back to the floor.

Giving you one last kiss, he walks over to his bag and digs around until he finds his comm. “Rex, those two better be dying by the time I get there, or I am going to kill them myself,” he snaps, his jaw clenched in frustration.

You chuckle, walking over and picking your shirt up off of the floor where Kix had thrown it.

“Based on how out of breath you sound, I don’t blame you.” He lets out a small laugh. “See you in a minute vod.”

Kix tosses his comm back in his bag and straightens up before turning to you and pinching the bridge of his nose. ��I’m sorry. Those two—”

You bring your hand up to rest over his still rapidly beating heart and place a light kiss on his lips. “It’s fine Kix.” You reach behind him and unlock the door, letting it whoosh open. Leaning forward, you settle your lips right under his ear and whisper against his neck. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you finish.” You playfully bite down on the skin under your lips, pressing a kiss on the newly formed mark you had just made before pulling back to face him.

His eyes widen, and a playful smirk overtakes his features. “Well then, I’ll see you later cyare.” He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss against your knuckles before heading off toward the medbay.

“I can’t wait,” you call down the hallway after him, smiling at the glance he throws over his shoulder before he rounds the corner and is out of your sight.

You turn back inside, picking up your bag and starting to put stuff away while you mumble to yourself. “If he doesn’t kill them, then I sure will.”

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

It was about five hours later when a knock came at your door. For some reason, today was the day that everyone decided to get injured so the medbay had been constantly busy once Kix had gotten there.

One of the mechanics had his arm pinned under a ship when the jack he had it held up with snapped (thanks to the Republic buying cheap equipment). Someone at the gym got a concussion after a spar got a little rough. Some poor shinie had slipped in the mess and cracked his head open on one of the tables.

Luckily, it was your day off as the on-call medic, so the only things you had to worry about were the reports that were coming across your desk from all of these medbay visits. But that also meant that Kix was getting all of the hard work in the medbay.

When you opened the door to your quarters, you were met with a Kix that looked dead on his feet.

“Long day?” Reaching up to trace his features, you gave him a light kiss and gently pulled him inside.

He nodded, bringing a hand up to rub his face. “I’m so sorry mesh’la but can I take a raincheck? I’m just so kriffing tired and just want to rest right now.” He was tense. His shoulders were pulled up toward his ears and he stood stiffly in front of you.

You hummed, pulling him toward your bed. “I thought you might be, so I had a better idea.” Giving him a soft smile, you pushed on his shoulders until he was sitting on the edge of your bed. “Take off your shirt. I’ll be right back.”

He looks up at you in confusion. “Cyare, I don’t think—”

Pressing a kiss against his lips, you grasp one of the hands he has in his lap and rub your thumb over his knuckles that are rough and dry after a full day of constantly washing his hands. You bring your forehead against his and look into his eyes. “Trust me.”

Turning away from him, you walk into the small refresher that is attached to your room and pull out a bottle of lotion that smells like fresh honey. You begin walking back out into your room, rolling up your sleeves to your elbows. “I thought you’d be tense so I—”

You stop dead in your tracks, seeing Kix stiffly sitting on the edge of your bed, his shirt laid out next to him.

“Cyare? You ok?” Kix stands up and walks over to your frozen form, placing his hands on either side of your arms and rubbing small crescent shapes with his thumbs.

Your eyes stay fixed on his chest, not leaving it as he stands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had more tattoos,” you squeak out, barely above a whisper.

Kix looks down at the red medic symbol that covers the entire left half of his chest over his heart before meeting your eyes once again. “Do… Do you like it?” He begins to worry his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for your answer.

Your hand comes up and lightly starts tracing the symbol, outlining it and then brushing your fingers over the parts that are filled in, leaving goosebumps on his skin in the wake of your gentle touch. “Very much.”

He clears his throat, it suddenly becoming dry as you trap him under your stare. “Oh. Y-yeah. I got them not long after I joined the 501st.”

Whipping your head up, your eyes go wide. “Them?”

“Um. Yeah,” he stutters hesitantly, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I have a couple on my back too.”

His back. You shook your head and brought your hand down from off his chest, remembering what you were doing. “Oh. Right. Um, how does a massage sound? You seem tense.”

He sighs, bringing his hands up to hold your face and lightly kissing your forehead as he angles it forward. “Honestly? That sounds amazing.”

Pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, you take a step toward the bed. “Good,” you beam. “Lie down on your stomach and get comfortable.”

Kix walks over to the bed, slipping his boots off before he crawls up so that his head is near the pillows close to the wall. He grabs one and crosses his arms under it before letting his head come to rest there. He lets out a deep sigh and shimmies a bit before settling.

You gently press on his lower back. “Is it ok if I sit here?”

His eyes are closed and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep already before he cracks his eyes open and gives you a small smirk. “You can sit anywhere if it means those pretty hands are gonna touch me.”

Rolling your eyes, you quietly laugh, straddling his waist and squirting some of the lotion into your hands. As you rub them together to heat it up, you let your eyes travel over the smooth expanse of his toned back. His midsection steadily rises and falls with his breath, and there are scars that occasionally disrupt the path your eyes follow up his back. Then, your eyes fall still when they look between his shoulders.

A grey, Republic cog that sits between his shoulder blades, taking up almost all of the space there and blue geometric markings that come down either side of it and angle away from his spine once they reach the bottom of the symbol. They stop about halfway down his back and break off before a small blue dot ends the lines.

You begin rubbing the lotion onto Kix’s lower back, kneading the muscles there.

The sweet smell of the lotion combines with his irresistible scent and the bacta that inevitably made its way onto his pants as you work it across his warm skin, causing you to have to suppress a shiver as you take in as much of it as you can in a single breath.

He lets out an obscene groan and his eyes flutter shut the second your hands start working their way across his skin.

You giggle, still working your hands over his back, feeling the tension disappear with your work. “Feel good?”

He groans again as your hands work their way up his back. “Feels amazing,” he sighs.

For a while, you work in silence, the only sound being your steady breathing and the occasional groan from Kix when you work over a particularly tense area.

You squirt more of the sweet-smelling lotion into your hands, making sure to warm it up before running them over Kix’s back once again. “Kix?” Your voice is questioning and soft, not wanting to disturb him if he has fallen asleep.

“Hmm?” he hums out.

Trailing your hands over the tattoos on his back, you tap your fingers on them, letting Kix know what you are about to ask. “Jesse and Hardcase?”

“M-hm.” He lets out a relaxed sigh as your hands begin tracing over the markings like they had with the medic symbol on his chest.

“Mind if I ask about the story behind them?”

He cracks an eye open, peering over his shoulder and meeting your stare before settling back down and closing his eyes. “Not at all cyare.”

You begin to massage the muscles around the tattoos, occasionally stopping to just trace over them.

“It was pretty early on in the war when I joined the 501st.” He breaths out a short laugh. “Commander Tano wasn’t even here yet. But because I was trained on Kamino as a medic, and because things were pretty rough at the beginning, all of my batchmates were sent to different battalions, so I didn’t really know any of the troopers in the 501st. But Jesse and Hardcase, well, they made me feel welcome and always had my back. We all got here at about the same time and just… clicked. Always knew exactly what the other one needed.” He laughs. “Hell, I probably wouldn’t be here now if those two hadn’t saved my ass more times than I can count.”

For a brief instant you stop your movements, gazing at the soft smile on his face.

“They’re my best friends and I know that they’ll always be watching my back, no matter where any of us are.”

Your fingers lightly trace the tattoos one more time, gracing over every outline and filling in every shape. “That’s… That’s so sweet. I never knew that. I-I mean, I knew that you guys were close, but I just assumed that it’s because you joined the 501st at the same time.”

He hums. “They have the same tattoos you know. Jesse has me and Hardcase and Hardcase had me and Jesse. We’re all watching each other’s backs. Makes us feel safer, you know?”

You sit up, trailing your hands down until they are resting on Kix’s lower back. “Well,” you say leaning forward, “I’m glad that they do.” Then, you begin pressing gentle kisses against his skin, outlining the tattoos one final time. “Because it makes me feel better knowing that you’ve got such amazing people looking out for you.” You feel him shudder lightly as your breath fans over his skin and as your lips trail over the tattoos. You start at the blue marking on his right and trail up until you’ve traced the cog between his shoulders, and then back down the left blue marking.

Placing one final kiss at the base of his neck, you climb off of him and lie down at his side. He turns his head to look at you as he opens his eyes. “How do you feel?”

His hand comes up to the side of your face, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. He looks at you with pure admiration as a blissful smile overtakes his face. “Perfect.” He draws you in, brushing his lips over yours and speaking against them with a grin. “I can’t believe that I didn’t ask you to spar sooner.”

Laughing, you push forward, fully capturing his lips with yours. “Yeah!” you tease. “What took you so long you di’kut?”

“Shut-up,” he smirks, flipping onto his side and wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you close to his chest. He presses his lips to the crown of your head as your curl up into him. “Would’ve done it sooner if I knew it would have gone so well.”

You brush your lips over his neck, snickering at the brief shutter it caused before burying your face into his chest. “I’m glad that you did even if that sparring match was unfair.”

You can feel him smile against the top of your head as he places another kiss there. “You’ll get me next time cyar’ika.” His chest thrummed as a chuckle made its way past his lips. “Who knows, maybe I’ll let you pin me down instead.”

#kix x reader #kix x gender neutral reader #clone trooper kix #medical canvas #my writing #pro speaks #clones with tattoos #they sexy

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viking-raider · 4 years

Text

A Raw Heart - *Sensitive! READ THE WARNINGS!*

Summary: You tell Henry about the worst tragedy in your life.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 1,863

Rating: Mature - Serious Angst, Tragedy, Anguish, Grief, Loss, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Possible triggers

Inspiration: I’ve thought about this story for a long time, and it’s a bit personal.

Author’s Note: Read the Warnings!

You and Henry had been seeing each other for several months, having met at the auditions for Night Hunter. It was the first time Henry had been in your place, over for a nice night in, you left him in your living room long enough to get you both some wine. While you did that, Henry looked around, peeking at stuff, but not invading your privacy, checking out the books you had on your shelves and the photos you had on display around.

He noticed a small Russian doll-like thing on one of your shelves and picked it up, admiring it.

“Henry.” You called, standing on the other side of the room from him, stiff as a board. “Put it down.” You almost hissed at him. “Don't touch it.” You told him, trembling and your voice unsteady. “Please.” You added, your throat tight and tears threatening.

“I'm sorry.” Henry squeaked, putting it back where it was on the shelf. “I was just admiring it. It's really beautiful.” He babbled, nervously. “Where did you get it?” He asked, looking over at you and was caught off guard by the tears dripping down your face.

“It's my son.” You mumbled, struggling to gulp down your tears and emotions.

Henry blinked and his whole body jerked, shocked by your words. “What?” He pushed out, his own throat tight.

“Oh god.” You mewled, realizing what you had said. “Please, leave.” You whimpered, then rushed down the hall to your room, slamming the door behind you and barreling into your bathroom, to drop to your knees in front of the toilet bowl, wrenching violently into it.

Henry carefully opened your bedroom door, hearing your dry heaves, and followed the sound of it. “Hey.” He whispered, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back, his face showing his deep concern for you.

“I as-asked you t-to leave.” You wheezed, panting into the bowl, your heavy tears dripping into it.

“I know you did.” Henry sighed, still rubbing your back in a reassuring way. “But, I can't just leave you like this.” He said, getting up and finding a wash cloth hanging on the towel rack and ran it under the sink faucet. “I never meant to upset you.” He whispered, gently wiping the cool cloth over your temples, forehead and cheeks, even pressing it to the back of your neck for a moment.

“You didn't know.” You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Only a few people know what that is.”

Henry gulped, a pit in his stomach and bit his lip for a moment. “You said...” He took a deep breath. “You said, it was your son.” He said, chewing his bottom lip to bits.

“I did.” You whimpered, sitting down and pressing your back to the side of the cold tub. “When I was twenty, I was dating a guy, but we broke it off. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant with his baby. I told him and he wanted nothing to do with me, or the baby. Shocker of the century.” You chuckled, but whined at how sore your throat was.

“What happened?” Henry frowned, resting back against the vanity, and drawing his knees up.

“Well, I had the usual three options.” You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Have the baby and give it up for adopting, keep him or the other option.” You said, glancing at him for a moment, to get the point across. “I wasn't going to the latter thing, wasn't something I could live with. So, over the next eight and a half months, I tossed back and forth between adoption or keeping him. I thought, just before labor happened, that I was going to put him up for adoption. I was twenty, still living at home and had a shit job. What life could I give him, a struggling mother and an absent father.”

You paused for a moment, lost in a memory.

“But, when I finally gave birth to him, and I saw him in all his bloody, messy and screaming glory, I was enamored by him. He was beautiful and perfect, but importantly, he was mine. My son. I made him.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “With a little help, I suppose. But, I made him, with my body, my blood and flesh, inside me for months. It was like, I already knew him and he already knew me.”

“Pals for the ages.”

You smiled and closed your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks, as you recalled his little face, the warmth and weight of his teeny body in your arms, his smooth and downy skin against your chest. Hearing him coo at you, just before he latched onto your breast and fed, or how he squirmed as you bathed him. You would stay awake for hours, not caring how absolutely wrecked and exhausted you were from the day, to watch him sleep in the little cradle that attached you to the side of your bed. Remembering the first time he laughed, you blew a raspberry on his tummy as you changed his pamper and he became hysterical, filling your ears with that absolutely magical baby laugh, that no matter how horrible your day was going and how shitty you felt, you couldn't help but laugh along too; blowing more and more raspberries against his squirmy body and flailing arms and legs, his face bright with a face splitting grin.

“What happened?” Henry whispered, his voice weak and stomach clenching.

You choked suddenly as the horrible memory strangled you, like it had over the long years. “My boss made me work late one night, so I left him with my mother, she babysat him all the time, he was her first grand-baby and she was almost as wild about him as I was. I was a few hours into my shift, when my mom called, and I knew, instantly, something was wrong. She always called me before she put him to sleep, so I could talk to him and hear his little noises; and she had already done that.”

“Two hours before.”

“She had gone into check on him, and..” You froze, your breathing faltering and gripped the rug beneath you, tearing at it as your grief slammed into you. “He wasn't breathing and wouldn't respond. She called medical services, then called me, while they tried to save him.”

Henry's chin hit his chest, a tight bubble of grief in him. “I'm so sorry.” He whimpered, crushed for you, realizing what he had picked up was indeed your son, his urn. “I'm sorry.” He choked, moving over to you and hugging you against his body, letting you sob into his chest, soaking his shirt with your anguished tears, your heart splitting wails crushing him, like a factory of bricks.

“My boy.” You howled, clinging onto Henry, twisting your hands up in the back of his sweater. “My baby boy.”

“I know.” Henry choked and held you tight, tears dripping from his scruffy jaw and into your hair, rocking both of you. “I know, love. I know.”

“I miss him, Henry.” You sighed and sniffled, looking up at him. “I miss him, with every fiber of my soul and life.”

Henry smiled softly at you, brushing your hair out of your face. “I know you do, sweetheart. I know you do. But, he's still with you. He will always be with you, darling. In your heart and in your soul. Because you made him, with your body, your blood and your flesh, inside of you for months, and he's still in your body, blood and flesh, here and now, forever and always.” He told you, cupping your face in his shaking hands.

“Nothing and no one can ever take that, or him, from you. Even if he's not here with you, physically.”

You looked into Henry's baby blue, bloody shot and teary eyes, sucking your wobbling lip between your teeth, chin shaking as your body was wracked with a wave of new tears and emotions. No one had ever said something like that to you before. Everyone that knew about your son told you to move on, that the pain would pass and lessen, but it only grew worse over the years. Missing out on his first tooth coming in or losing one and sneaking money under his pillow for the tooth fairy, his first steps and word. His first day of school, his first crush on someone, watching him grow tall and do some many things you saw other kids doing. Your mother even suggested finding a guy and having another kid, but that thought horrified you, afraid that the same thing would happen all over again.

But, Henry's words had instilled something in your sore and cracked heart, like putting a plaster on it. He was right, your son might not be here physically anymore, but you had created him with your own body, nestled in your womb, his DNA was yours and it was still alive, so he was still alive, in that way.

“His name,” You said softly, letting go of your trembling lip. “was Julian.”

Henry smiled at you. “It's a beautiful name.” He replied, gently.

It was then, that it struck you, something you had only just realized as you shared a devastating, raw and such a personal moment that you have never shared with anyone else, or even talked about with the people that did, that you tried to avoid thinking about. You had freely given Henry the information about Julian, you had never told any of the guys you previously saw or dated, a few asked about the small, silver and blue urn, but you always changed the subject.

Why had you told Henry about him, so freely, letting down all the thick walls you had built around yourself over the years? You had known him for two months and been only four or five dates, but you felt safe with him; loved, understood and listened to.

Henry wrapped his arms around you and stood you both back up, guiding you back into the living room, sitting you down on the couch, then went into the kitchen, finding two glasses and two bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, obviously you had come into the living room as he picked up Julian's urn to ask which bottle he wanted. He just grabbed one, pulled the cork out of the neck and poured you both a glass, before bringing it out to you; sitting on the couch with you tucked into his warm and protective side. Neither of you said anything, sitting quietly on the couch, sipping your glasses of wine, in silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your voice still hoarse from all your crying. “I've been hanging onto that for so long.”

“Of course.” He whispered back, gently kissing your temple. “I'll always be here, if you need to talk it out, or cry it out.” He told you, giving you a tender expression, before hugging you snugly.

#Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #viking-raider fics #A Raw Heart #A Raw Heart *fic*#Hurt/Comfort #tragedy #Grief #Angst #Anguish #Loss #Henry Cavill/You #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill x You #Henry cavill x reader #Walter Marshall #Marshall #Nomis #Night Hunter

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damerondala · 3 years

Text

Suture Up Your Future

i was watching reservoir dogs last night and that scene in the beginning with mr. orange is so intense i wanted to write some bad batch AnGst that mirrors it (and yes, the title is a queens of the stone age song, im really just snatching ideas from everybody huh lol). im also not too knowledgeable about trauma wounds like this and how to patch them up, but i did my best so pls be nice lmao im a sensitive bitch

Pairing: Platonic Bad Batch x Gender Neutral Reader / Platonic Tech x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: adult dialogue, severe wounds and blood loss, wound suturing, sad batch ™ but with a happy ending! yay!

Word Count: approx. 1.4k

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“Say it for me, Tech.” You were met with an agonistic cry instead of the words you needed the trooper to say. Not only to reassure himself, but you as well. “Say it,” you nearly screamed while he lay there bleeding out, “You’re going to be okay, fucking say it. You’re going to be okay.”

“I,” a sharp intake of breath made his chest heave and a new wave of fresh blood come out of his gaping wound, covering your hands in the warm substance, “‘m guh be oh-okay.”

“There we go, come on Tech, come on buddy breathe for me.”

Nothing was out of the ordinary when you woke up that day. Hunter asked if you wanted to stay on the Marauder while he, Tech, and Crosshair went on a supply run. Hunter sang his reassurances to you, fully knowing you had a point when you reminded him that this planet was not the most welcoming place for outsiders. Especially the army of the Republic. But Hunter made sure they had civilian clothing to disguise themselves; this was the closest planet you all could get to at the moment, with the little fuel you had, after all. “In and out, just like that,” the sergeant cooed with a snap of his fingers to enunciate the last word of his promise.

Echo, Wrecker, and yourself gave your best wishes to the group, then retreated back to the hull of the beloved ship. Echo toying with a new prosthetic he and Tech had been working on, Wrecker subjecting poor Gonky to yet another workout, and you occupied yourself with some tidying up. Maker knows that five busy soldiers plus one even busier medic, patching up said soldiers on a regular basis, equaled a filthy ship that was in dire need of some elbow grease.

What none of you had expected however, was the very early return of the three bad batchers, one of them being supported by the other two. Barely able to walk and blood leaking out of his abdomen.

Panic set in your gut upon the sight. Wrecker and Echo already in front of you, screaming their concerns and questions while you scrambled back into the ship to clear the table that was littered with empty dishes and Tech’s projects, then sprinting to your medkit to snag the supplies you’d need to treat a wound such as this. Returning to the table just as Wrecker set his vod down on the flat surface that, might you add, was much too small for his six-four frame and much too dirty for the situation at hand, but would have to do. Considering the severity of the scene before you. Tech had an enormous gash — you guessed from some sort of large knife — that ran from the bottom of his left ribs all the way to the front of his abdomen, ending just above his bellybutton.

“Fucking bounty hunters,” Crosshair growled from behind you but you couldn’t afford to pay him any mind, Tech was damn near about to bleed to death if you didn’t act quick. You could curse the people who did this to your friend later. “Echo, he’s going to need more blood. Get Wrecker hooked up to the blood draw.” You ordered while applying pressure to the gash, Tech’s blood slowing at the contact, but still steadily seeping through your fingers. Normally Wrecker would pout about being hooked up to a machine but the sight of his friend dancing with death made him move quicker than any of you had ever seen, ripping his shirt sleeve up so Echo could begin drawing blood.

The scene felt like a dream. Well, more like a nightmare, one that never stopped no matter how badly you wished you could just wake up and it would all be over. Instead, you were sweating through your shirt, a few tears stained your cheeks, and you were fucking covered in blood; Tech’s blood, to make the matter even more chilling. Everything happened so fast, you desperately wished you had gone on the run instead of Tech. Maybe that way you could all be sitting around this table, playing cards and giggling at Echo and Wrecker’s bickering over who’s cheating by now.

“What do you need me to do?” Hunter stepped to your side, prepared to do anything in order to save the youngest of the squad. “Get the gauze and alcohol out of my pack.” You threw your head in the direction of the stocked medpack sitting on the table near Tech’s legs. Hunter opened the bottle of antiseptic and handed it to you, Crosshair on the other side of the table taking the gauze from Hunter’s hand. Ready to stuff the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding more until you could properly suture him up. Dumping the alcohol inside the gash caused Tech to gasp, eyebrows furrowing and body going taut at the pain you inflicted on him. You pleaded with him to relax and help you in reassuring himself that he would be fine. Both you and Hunter continuing the verbal comfort while Crosshair unraveled the pristine white gauze and began shoving it into Tech’s side, dying it crimson almost immediately. The pressure from both yours and Crosshair’s hands did a good job at stopping the blood loss, just enough so you could begin really cleaning him up and sewing his abdomen back together. Hunter helped with handing you the needle and thread and you began puncturing Tech’s skin and pulling the thread through the tissue.

Cries and mumbles of curses came from Tech’s lips, his face paler than any of you had ever seen before. “Shhh…eh..it,” Tech groaned as you diligently worked at his stomach. You silently thanked whatever celestial power that was out there for slowing down the blood flow to a much more manageable pace. Crosshair’s efforts clearly paid off, you mentally noted, as you watched his steady marksman hands slowly remove the gauze while you advanced with your stitching.

“Blood transfusion is ready,” Echo suddenly appeared, ready to start replenishing the blood Tech had lost. “Just in time,” you managed a half-smile, not entirely sure of where it came from. But looking back, you think it was out of hope.

Tech’s glazed eyes silently caught the way your mouth curled up and he was infinitely grateful for it. To him — and the other members of the squad — you were a beacon of light in the cruel and unforgiving war you all were in the midst of. It was easy to let the darkness and the violence consume them, but the second you joined their squad as their senior medic, there was that sudden sense of hope; you were something that made all of it even more worth it.

The entire procedure of fixing up your friend honestly was a blur for the most part. One second they were dragging Tech’s limp and bloody body up the ramp, the next you all found yourselves slumped into chairs, over crates, hell, you were nearly passed out from exhaustion on the floor next to the table Tech was splayed out on. His wound clean and stitched to near perfection, and Wrecker’s blood slowly being pumped back into his veins, bringing that beautiful, healthy tan back to his features.

Being so tired led you to neglect the dried blood all over your arms and shirt. In your haze, you remember Wrecker gently grasping your biceps and heaving you off the grimy ground, urging you to wash up and change. When you began to protest, the gentle giant rubbed up and down your arms in an effort to persuade you, “He’ll be fine, kid. You stitched him up real good. Plus, you know how queasy he gets with blood. He’d want you to get cleaned up.” Just as the final syllable left his mouth, you felt the soft cotton of your extra shirt being brushed against your forearm, Crosshair’s arm extended to you from his place on a ration crate with a nod in your direction. A silent way of showing you he agreed with his older brother — we got him, don’t worry.

Your squad member’s wisdom proved to be true. Stepping out of the fresher in a new shirt sans sweat stains and blood, and your skin nice and clean, you were greeted with the sight of everybody crowding around their youngest vod still laying on the table. Weaseling your way in between Hunter and Echo, you found Tech awake. Albeit less sharp than he usually is, but still awake. Breathing. Fucking alive. The weight of dread that had been crushing your chest was suddenly gone, letting your lungs fully expand for the first time in hours. A soft hand found Tech’s cheek, the tips of your fingers accidentally bumping the edge of his goggles and another smile gracing your face, this one out of relief.

“Told you you’d be okay.”

#i know reservoir dogs is like...the ultimate white boy douchebag movie but i still like it #im taking it back from those bitches lol #and this is my first time writing something platonic AND writing angst I hope it's decent lol im more of a fluff and spicy stories kinda gal #my writing #tech fic #bad batch fic #the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch platonic fic #the bad batch crosshair x reader #the bad batch hunter x reader #the bad batch echo x reader #the bad batch wrecker x reader #the bad batch fanfiction

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ohhmyheart5678 · 3 years

Text

When in the streets of seoul (5)

*warning* this mentions death, murder, suicide, guns, and other gruesome and dark content if you are sensitive to these kinds of things do not read it

Pairing: Chan x female reader

Word count 2.1k

Previous/ next

*****

It's been six days, six day fucking days since I've been trapped here. I absolutely hate it. I spent the first three days not speaking to anyone and the other three finally excepting the fact that this is going to be my life now.

It's such a nice place. I get fed the best foods, I sleep in the most comfortable king sized bed with silk sheets, I have the best clothes, and I'm still miserable.

I went to the speaker and pressed 1. "Kinely ! You need something?" Chan sounded quite concerned. He believed that I had everything I needed but he forgot one thing. "I need to go to the store" I say sharply. Even though the deal was that I wasn’t able to go in public he haven't let me out of this room yet.

He says I'm not cooperating and so I have to wait. "What do you need from the store that I can't get for you?" I could hear the slight annoyance in his voice but he could never be as annoyed as I am right now. I mean he is keeping me hostage for Christ sake. "Just take me to the store you dickhead" I was honestly so done with him.

I needed to get out this room and I needed to go to the store ASAP. "I'm not going to the store because you won't tell me what it is" Chris was trying to put his foot down but little did he know I was far better at this game than he was. "Look I need pads either you take me to get them, or you can suffer the consequences of trying to find the perfect pads for me which I guarantee that you won't and then you'll have to take me to pick them out anyways, or we can always go with the option of me bleeding everywhere" there was a long pause before he finally responded.

"Fine I'll take you to the store" was all he said before it went completely silent. I waited patiently by the door until a boy comes in. "Hey seugmin did Chris send you for me" he just gives a simple nod. "Felix and I" he simply says while fully opening the door that he was standing in just enough to show his body. Once he swung open the door it revealed Felix. The orange haired boy waved at me.

Since staying here Chris has sent the boys at least once so that they could introduce themselves since I'm gonna be seeing a lot more of them. I've learned about what these boys do. Since I had nothing better to do the least I could do was steal information on the guys I'm going to be living with from now on.

For instance Chris is the oldest and the leader. He calls the shots, he looks over the plans, and makes sure everything runs smoothly he does need to do much work but Felix says Chris is the last resort and that he’s feel bad for anyone if Chris was called in. Then there's Minho. He is one of the main men on the field he's the look out and distraction, and supposedly from what I heard he does a damn good job at it. Plus Minho has a medical background so if anyone gets hurt he’s the man everyone goes to.

There's also changbin he's got quite the temper so they use him when there's need for extreme measures you know if they need .. a mess. I heard he can get pretty creative with that stuff.

Hyunjin, who often checks on me throughout the day is the sniper. He knows weapons like the back of his hands and could handle them blindfolded. Then it's Jisung, they call him Han. He is the best fighter in the house. You can have a gun in the fight and he could still win.

Felix known as the second Aussie of the house does the interrogations. He can get anyone to talk, his deep voice scares mostly anyone , but for the ones that are harder to get through. Let's just say they can either come out alive while missing some part of their body. Or they can come out in a body bag.

Seugmin is the hacker, he can hack into litterally anything. You name it, he can hack it. He's the one who got the information on my dad.

Last but definitely not least there's jeongin they all him I.N . He is silent but deadly. The red hair boy is like a ninja. They use him when they want to get the job done quickly but quietly.

We arrived downstairs where Chris was waiting for us at the door. I figured he was already handling business downstairs so he fetched the two boys to get me. "Thanks gentleman I got it from here" it was his nice easy of telling them to go away.

We got into his car and he drives us to a nearby store. I looks around searching for the right ones as he stands behind me trying to figure how the whole process works. I saw the pack I wanted and grabbed two of them. "Ahh now I know for next time" he says as if he has just been enlightened. "Next time?" I wanted to know what he meant by next time.

"Next time its you know... that time, I'll be able to pick out the right ones for you" that’s so aggravating! My only reason to get out the house was once again taken from me. Chan probably could tell that I was slightly disappointed by his statement so he changed it a little , I mean seeing that he’s talking to a hormonal women who’s not necessarily in the best mood at the moment. "I mean unless you'd like to do it for yourself" A small smile slightly appeared on my face as I handed the cashier the goods to ring up. "Is there anything else you want or need from here before we leave" Chris wanted to hurry out of here because this was time he could be spending working at home. "Nope" I was completely content with having what I needed so far.

Once we arrived back home I was instantly sent back to my room. Sitting there in boredom I looked around for some form of entertainment. There was absolutely nothing to do in this room and I was just now realizing it. For the past few days all I've been doing was sleeping and eating , so I didn't stop to think about it . I was too busy being sad about being locked up in a room by a bunch of psychos.

I looked over at the speaker not wanting to bother Chris because I rarely want to even speak to him. I walked over pushing the number 5 on the speaker and hoped this man was in his room.

"Hey kinely are you doing ok?" He genuinely sounded concerned. "Can you come over here please" I knew I didn't have to really ask him because he doesn't mind coming and checking on me anyways but I thought to ask just in case . "Sure just give me a sec" Hyunjin was always in here and even though Chris comes in often to talk to me he's always busy it's only for a few seconds before he goes back to "work".

Hyunjin came within fifteen minutes. He knocks making sure I'm not naked or anything. I think that it was pretty nice of him to do considering the other boys just come in as they please. I mean I know it's your home and all but a girl needs privacy.

"Come in" I yelled from my closet, I had just put on sweats and a hoodie to get a little comfortable. "You sent for me?" He walked in and closed the door behind him. "I was wondering if you could stay in here for a little longer than you normally do? I think I'm gonna go insane in here by myself" he chuckled at me being immensely dramatic. I put the back of my hand on my forehead pretending to be a damsel in distress.

He walked over to my bed and sat on it and patted on it which was his way of telling me to sit down. "Maybe you don't have to stay in here all the time" he seemed like he was getting somewhere but I was yet to follow. "What do you mean?" Was he gonna take me out this house or was I reading this wrong? "Its not much but maybe you could come to my room. There's tons of things to do in there. We just can't let Chan know I'm taking you out considering he wants you in the room." He fidgets a little wondering how I was going to respond to his offer.

Hell yeah I was gonna take this opportunity to leave the room! I had nothing else to do in the looney house. "Why not?" I shrug not wanting him to know just how excited I was. He grabs my head and leads me to his room all the way in the other side of the house.

My jaw dropped once he opened his room door to let me inside. He had arcade games like ddr, those ones when you race on the motorcycle, street fighter and pac man. He had a giant tv mounted on his wall in front of his bed and a wii console which I havent seen in years. "Told ya" he crossed his arms leaning against doorframe while admiring the dumb look of shock on my face.

"Where do we even start?" I was still looking around trying to pinpoint the first thing I wanted to do. "Doesn't matter where we start all you need to know is I'll kick your ass at any game in this room" his cockiness shines through, a side of him I haven't seen since I first met him.

What he didn't know was how competitive I can get "You're gonna be very disappointed when you realize how much you suck compared to me, especially when I beat you in dance revolution" It was on now. I can see a gleam in his eyes and knew he was almost if not just as competitive as I am.

Twelve rounds, six wins , and six loses later. We decided to watch a movie. "How's it feel to loose to someone as amazing as I?" I stood on his bed placing my hand on my hips. I'm sure he's yet to meet someone as dramatic as me. "We both won and lost the same amount of time so I'd say we're equally as amazing if you ask me" hes right about that but this his room and his games that he plays all the time if he didn’t win then it would be embarrassing. Hyunjin pulls my right leg causing me to fall on his bed. "You asshole!" My body had no control over itself. It was bouncing up and down on its own and I couldn't even stop it.

"You were to one who wanted to watch a movie and you can't even sit still" Hyunjin teases while I finally get myself together and sit up all the way in the bed. "Plus you weren't calling me a asshole when I took you out of your room." I gasped while holding my chest. "Oh how dare you?" I squinted my eyes at him and he laughed at me.

I must admit I haven't felt this good in a few days. I almost forgot that I was being held against my will but the thought is always in the back of my mind. I finally settle down and Hyunjin was nice enough to let me choose the movie I wanted. So here we were, on the bed watching a movie. For comfort I lay my head on his shoulder and her wraps his wraps around me.

I felt relaxed and almost safe. Soon I fell asleep with the movie playing in the background. Hyunjin was staying still trying not to wake me up. In fact so still that he ended up falling asleep himself.

I just needed to wake up on time before Chris realizes that I'm gone.

Previous/next

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 4

summary: it’s the morning after the night before. time for a very awkward conversation.

warnings: warnings, very very brief alluding to smut but rly only if u squint

song for this chapter is best friend by rex orange county! also the series masterlist can be found through the link to my main masterlist in my bio :) enjoy!

- jazz

You were’t sure what you needed more the next day: painkillers, to help your hangover or another round of drinks, to help you forget what you’d done night before.

Or should I say - who you had done the night before.

You didn’t sleep with your co-workers, much less your boss. God, it was almost as bad as if you’d slept with Merl - no, you couldn’t even let your brain go there. You’d already thrown up twice that morning (once into Jack’s toilet and then once into the subway tracks) and you didn’t need to make yourself do it again. Your stomach was churning and it felt as though the Blue Man Group were rehearsing their drum set in your frontal lobe. You’d tried to nurse it with a large block coffee and a half a packet of painkillers but alas, to no success.

Somehow, though, your physical pains were the least of your worries. The fact you’d snuck out of Jack’s apartment and left without a word was playing over and over again in your head - so much so, that you almost didn’t come into work. Almost. Not even this situation was enough to make you take a day off.

‘Is there a reason you’ve been stood outside the office for fifteen minutes, agent?’ You jumped at the sound of Champ’s voice. He glanced between the Starbucks coffee in his hand and the bruise around your left eye (fuck, you’d forgotten about that), quirking an eyebrow. ‘Rough night?’

‘No.’ You quickly answered. ‘Sir.’

‘So you what...walked into a door?’

Got drunk, tried to square up to a guy, got punched and then fucked my boss - thanks for asking.

‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘I’m not normally clumsy but I forget that doors in America...go the other way? You know, drive on the other side of the road, use a different weight system, doors that go-’

‘- you can stop now, Percival.’ Champ cut you off. ‘Make sure you look after yourself.’

‘Right.’ You nodded. ‘Thank you.’

With the agent staring you at expectantly, you had no choice but to go into the office. You forced a smile, using your weight to budge open the door and step inside.

The sound of your heels against the floor announced your entrance; the faint smell of Jack’s aftershave wasn’t normally that noticeable, but that morning, it wasn’t doing you any favours. You stood in the door way for a moment, letting it shut behind you as your eyes landed on the cowboy.

He didn’t even look at you. Why wasn’t he looking at you? Fuck, had you upset him-

‘Nice of you to make an appearance, Percy.’ He suddenly spoke, flashing you a smile as he tore his eyes away from his computer screen. ‘How’s the shiner? Your buddy sure did pack a punch, huh?’

‘Uh, yeah.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘It’s fine, a little sore.’

‘You should pop down the lab on your break. Ginger will sort it out in no time.’ He leant back in his chair.

‘Are we just not gonna talk about the fact we slept together last night?’

Jack suddenly jumped in surprise, eyes widening. Right, clearly not.

‘I was trying to find a way to bring up such a sensitive subject.’ He replied. ‘But I guess I don’t gotta worry.’

You sighed as you walked over to your desk, placing your bag down and taking a seat. Fuck, your head was killing. You rubbed your eyes and cleared your throat, forcing yourself to continue the difficult conversation you’d just unwittingly started. You got the vibe that people in the South probably didn’t talk about sex so crudely. Twenty-something years of hanging around Eggsy Unwin had de-sensitised you to the idea of it being a taboo subject.

‘I’m sorry I left this morning without saying anything.’ You sheepishly murmured. ‘When I do stuff like that, it’s usually with random guys I found in a bar.’

The biggest question that kept playing over and over in your head was why?

Why Jack? You’d rebuffed Tequila’s advances before he could even finish the damn sentence and yet you’d slipped into bed with Jack with ease. It was probably to do with the fact he’d been such a good kisser, and the rest did not disappoint. It had been good. Really good. Possibly the best you’d ever had, actually. He’d said at the beginning of the night that he was going to help you kick back and chill out and...yeah, he’d done a pretty good job.

‘It doesn’t affect me, sugar.’ Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t see why it has to change anything between us.’

Of course. Had you forgotten who you were talking to? This was Whiskey, the biggest flirt at the fucking agency. He’d probably had a different girl the night before you, and he was probably going to have somebody else tonight. He hadn’t said or done anything that could have lead you to believe it meant something more. Sure, you’d become friends and saw each other day and yeah, he drove you home sometimes because he didn’t want you to walk home in the dark and he had invited you out to help you de-stress when you needed it most.

Did you like Jack? Did you want it to be something more? Did the last few weeks all....add up to something? Then again, maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he was just looking out for you, because you were a young woman, alone in the city. Perhaps last night had just been...a fluke. A glitch in the system. A wobble in what was otherwise a completely professional relationship.

‘No, you’re right.’ You nodded, scratching the back of your neck. It really felt like you should have said something more, because it felt like something more. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’

He quirked a brow at you. ‘So we’re good?’

You forced a smile. ‘Better than ever, Whiskey.’

You’d had one night stands before. They were standard, really - but it was rare you found yourself thinking about them the next day. Something between you just worked. You couldn’t put your finger on it, in the same way you couldn’t spell out the sudden urge to kiss him last night, but some things just couldn’t be explained. Your attraction to him certainly couldn’t be - he was older, used the worst nicknames and spoke to you entirely in Southern metaphors. But, as aforementioned, he’d also looked after you.

Maybe that was what you needed. Maybe it was what you wanted-

- You stopped yourself there. No time to unpack all of that, especially when you were this hungover and spent most of your waking hours spitting fire about how independent you were. You’d had Tequila pinned to the wall less than twelve hours ago for trying to make move on you. It was probably something to save for therapy (which was on your to-do list).

The tension in the room felt a little more reflective of a fight between a couple than it did of two friends who had casually slept together the night before. Normally, the room was just calm, filled with the only sounds of you two occasionally cracking jokes or your fingers desperately tapping away at your respective computers. Now? It was tense. Suffocatingly so, as though it could have swallowed you whole.

‘I’m gonna get more coffee.’ You announced, abruptly. ‘And I guess I’ll pay Ginger a visit to sort out this annoying fucking bruise. You want anything from Starbucks?’

‘Didn’t you just go?’ He observed.

‘Yeah, but I want some fresh air.’

As you passed Jack’s desk on the way out, he reached out and grabbed your hand, quickly tangling your fingers in his. He peered up at you, brow furrowed - you were off. He knew you were off. He’d proven time and time again over the last month that he could read you like a fucking book. You were a clown for thinking that he wouldn’t notice the fact you’d completely retracted into yourself, or that you’d suddenly from from Jack to Whiskey.

‘You’re annoyed at me.’ He observed.

‘I’m not annoyed at you.’ You didn’t try to pull your hand back. ‘I’m annoyed at...myself, I guess.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I let last night happen.’ You explained. ‘I shouldn’t have made a move on you, I shouldn’t have broken every professional boundary between us for one night of meaningless-’

‘- what if it wasn’t meaningless?’

You froze, suddenly snatching your hand back. What were you meant to say to that? You couldn’t work out if you wanted it to mean something. There was so much to untangle but your main concern was sorting out your sore nose and banging head ache.

‘Jack...’ you murmured. ‘I can’t talk about this right now. My head is on fire and my nose is fucking purple.’

He stood up, reaching for his jacket. ‘C’mon then, I’ll take you down the lab.’

‘I can get there myself, really.’

‘D’you know where it is, sugar?’

‘I can work it out.’ You shot back. ‘I’m smart-’

Before you could finish your sentence, he had a hand on the small of your back and was guiding you out the room and down the hall. That was new; he hadn’t really shown you any signs of physical touch - excluding last night, obviously - but the progression felt...natural. Heck, Jack hadn’t even realised he was doing it, and you didn’t feel the urge to complain or push him off.

That was probably saying something.

‘There we go.’ Ginger murmured, slowly dabbing at the bruise with...something. ‘Good as new.’

You felt as good as new. After putting a weird paste on your nose and forcing some fancy, top-of-the-range painkillers down your throat, your hangover was gone and your nose was no longer stinging. You’d been out here thinking that Kingsman had been far ahead with their medical technology, but this place made it look Victorian. You were tempted to ask if they had an amnesia-inducing medication that could make you and Jack forget the events of last night, but then you realised something.

You didn’t want to forget.

‘Thank you, Ginger.’ You smiled. ‘I really appreciate it.’

‘What did you do to end up with a busted nose and black eye, anyways?’ Ginger raised her eyebrows.

‘Our girl tried to deck a man twice her size because she thought he was following a woman into the bathroom.’ Jack replied, gently rubbing your shoulder. That’s fine. That was totally fine. You were fine.

‘I had the right intentions.’ You muttered. ‘Anyways - Calahan isn’t gonna catch himself, so I gotta get back to work. Thank you again, G.’

That was code for Jack and I are about to have a very awkward conversation. To be frank, you would have begrudgingly left at the whole ‘it didn’t mean anything’ point, but he’d been the one to push it, to float out the idea that it could mean something. You’d thought it, but he’d been the one to say it. That was the huge difference between the two of you. You could compartmentalise your feelings when they proved to be an inconvenience. Jack Daniels, however, was...brash. When he felt something, he had to say it. It was a blessing and a curse.

You both walked back to your office in silence, once again with Jack’s hand resting on the small of your back. He knew you didn’t need looking after - hell, you’d proved that ten times over - but it almost like he was keeping an eye on you. He’d seen you square up to two different men in the last twenty four hours. It was for your safety, really.

The minute the door had shut behind you both, that tension immediately returned. This time, however, there was a little hint of excitement. Anticipation, maybe.

‘So...’ you trailed off, leaning against your desk. Awkwardly playing with your hands, you peered over at him. ‘Let’s recap: we slept together, I snuck out, we said it didn’t mean anything and then two seconds later, you retracted that statement.’

‘I didn’t retract it.’ Jack insisted. ‘I was just reading your signals - which are confusing as fuck, by the way, sweetheart - because you were the one who walked out.’

‘My signals?’ You scoffed. ‘You were the one who invited me out the in first place! And the one who drives me home every damn night so I don’t have to walk alone!’

‘You’re the one who’s being as skitterish as a calf at a goddamn smoke out-’

‘- as a what at a what?!’ You spluttered. ‘You’re the one calls me sweetheart all the time!’

‘Yeah, well, you’re the one who kissed me first-’

‘- just shut up a second!’ You held your finger out to him. He silenced immediately. 'I feel like we’re overcomplicating this.’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘We are?’

‘Whi - Jack.’ You took a deep breath. ‘I am going to ask you this once, and once only. If you say no, I’ll move on and we can act like this never happened. If you say yes...we can discuss it, okay?’

‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Go for it.’

‘Did last night mean anything to you?’ You asked the question slowly, in the same tone you might ask a child what small object they had in their mouth.

‘Not at first.’ Jack replied. ‘I didn’t go into it with the intention of it meaning something.’

You frowned. ‘Do go on.’

‘I was gonna come in this morning and pretend like it never happened. Then I saw you, with that stupid bruise and stupid smile and I realised that you’re brash and dumb and fucking gorgeous and ...shit, you’re spiteful as hell and I’m a little terrified of you but damn, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you.’

‘Well, shit.’ You murmured. It was the answer you’d wanted just...in a lot more words.

For a long time, your head strong nature and inability to tolerate ninety-nine percent of the human race was something people had used a reason not to like you. But Jack? Oh, no. Not him. He saw it as a challenge, maybe. He had an urge to cut through the thorny outside and trying to see what you held on the inside. He’d see little bits of it here and there - your smile when you spoke about Eggsy, or the way you’d gone out your way to try and protect that woman - but he was determined to find more. He wanted to find more. You were an enigma, a vortex of swear words and brash decisions, and hell, you were sucking him right in.

‘You gonna say anything more than shit?’ He urged.

You’d never been all that good with words. Didn’t actions speak louder? That’s what your mum had always said, and it had proven true in your line of work too. Punching the daylights out of someone was always a clearer threat than a concerning phone call. Pulling your weight on every mission was more proof of hard work than gloating to your uppers about your achievements.

And kissing your boss was a much clearer sign of telling him that you liked him too rather than just verbalising it.

Jack almost veered backwards when you lunged at him, just about catching you in his arms. Your lips crashed together - it was a little more desperate than last night, but then again, so was the whole situation. His arms caught you at the waist, holding you against his chest as he kissed you right back.

After a few moments, you pulled back for air. Neither of you said anything, instead choosing to just stare at each other with disbelief.

‘That was very unprofessional of me.’ You admitted. ‘But I do like you Jack and I’m worried it’s going to be a problem-’

‘- since when has mutual attraction ever been a problem?’ Jack practically snorted at the idea. ‘I like you. You like me. I don’t get what’s so complicated about that, sugar.’

‘Because it’s unprofessional! You’re my boss and I’m here to work.’ You suddenly took a step back, complex feelings finally colliding. ‘To prove myself and get a promotion!’

‘And you’re doing that just fine!’ He shot back. ‘Better than fine! You work your ass off ten times harder than any agent I’ve ever met. I don’t know how those uppity goddamn suit-makers haven’t realised what an asset you are.’

‘Are you saying that because you like me or because you mean it?’

‘Ouch.’ He murmured. ‘Even if I couldn’t stand you, I would still recognise the fact you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever seen.’

‘Wouldn’t that be an ideal world.’ You snorted.

‘How about this?’ Jack reached forward, taking your hands in his. ‘It’s clear that whatever happens now, we probably can’t go back to how things were. I can try, but I promise you it won’t happen.’

You nodded in agreement.

‘So, you can back track on everything we’ve just said and let it affect how we work together, or we can just lean into this whole stupid thing.’ He continued. ‘We’ll work together and play together. Two birds one stone, just until you go back to London.’

This was something of a rare opportunity: mutual attraction. Aside from the occasional one night stand in London, you barely had the chance to have fun. After years of hard work, maybe you deserved it. It was just...fooling around. You’d both admitted you liked one another but it was hardly a grand declaration at love. There were some feelings at stake, but not enough for you to be worried.

‘We need ground rules.’ You replied. ‘I like you and you like me but we have to put the brakes on it there. You have to promise not to fall in love with me. Obsession only, okay?’

Jack tilted his head to the side, as if to say fair enough. ‘Sure thing. Anything else?’

‘The minute this starts to interfere with my work, I’m cutting you out.’ Your tone was a little sterner. ‘Heck, the second it happens, this stops. It’s...an addition to my work, not a replacement.’

‘As your superior...’ he said the words teasingly. You hated that you loved it. ‘I will make that doesn’t happpen.’

‘Good.’ You gave him a curt nod. ‘Then it’s settled.’

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. Jack peered down at it, almost waiting for you to retract it and break into a grin. But that didn’t happen. You were completely serious. Could he put it down to British weirdness? Probably.

‘You drive me fucking insane.’ The cowboy grabbed your hand, yanking you towards him and capturing you in another kiss.

tags: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @imananxiousdriver @phoenixhalliwell @66wookies @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse (message me if you wanna be added!)

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey x you #kingsman x reader #kingsman imagines

146 notes · View notes

sarah-writes-marvel · 3 years

Text

Oxygen: Avengers x gn! reader

S.S.: Heya... its been a while. This is another fic kinda based on personal life stuff but I hope you like it still!

--Little back story, Ive got a congenital heart defect and if I push my self too far this is kind of what happens. :)

Warnings: mentions bruises and cuts, difficulty breathing, other than that its just fluff!

Word count:1,589

Y/F/M: your favorite movie

MASTERLIST ============================

“Alright! Good job team. Another success.” Tony celebrated walking through the helipad entrance of the compound.

“We still took a heavy hit out there tho.” Clint argued massaging his newly wrapped wrist.

“But we’re still alive,” Tony said turning and walking backwards, “I’d say that kinda evens out the bad.”

Clint rolled his eyes at Tony’s slightly faulty logic before the team entered into the common area of the building. Tony immediately took a seat at the bar pouring a drink while everyone else just stood for a minute.

“Well, I don't know about you guys but I'm tired and in dire need of a shower.” you broke the silence, catching their attention.

“I second that,” Nat agreed. “And then maybe some pizza and a movie.”

Various words of approval echoed in the common room.

“Man, I was thinking about throwing a banger of a party!” Tony whined, with a sly smirk, which was returned with cold stares from each of the members. “Jeez, I was kidding.” he mumbled into his glass.

“I’m gonna go shower. I suggest you boys do the same. It's starting to smell.” Nat teased as she made her way to the elevator. Protests and grumbles came from the men standing there.

“She’s not wrong.” you whispered under your breath as you followed her into the elevator.

“I heard that!” Steve yelled out as Clint threw a throw pillow (how ironic) towards the elevator door, hitting the metal before it reached you and Nat.

After a fit of giggling at the attempt, you both leaned against the walls of the elevator, opposite sides of each other, trying your best to filter out the images of the mission running through our heads.

“Hey, you alright?” her voice attracted your attention as you peaked open your closed eyes.

“Ya, I’m ok. I know that missions don't always end how we want but there's not much we can do.” you sent her a reassuring smile.

“I’m glad you realize that but I was asking more about how you're feeling. Your lips have a very subtle purple hue to them and you're just kinda pale.”

“Oh. I mean I don't feel completely awful. My chest kinda hurts but it's kind of a normal thing for me I guess. Maybe a little out of breath. And a headache.” as you continued to list off my symptoms it seemed more apparent, like the sudden lightheadedness, and the constricting feeling of taking in a breath.

“Do you need to go to the med bay?” She asked on full alert.

“No Nat. I'll be fine. It kinda comes with heart issues. I just need to rest.”

“You’re sure?” she looked at you sceptically, as if you would lie to a perfectly trained assassin who can pick up on any micromovement made.

“Positive.” As soon as you seemed to calm her down from her motherly attentiveness the elevator doors opened to our floor. You quickly gave her a smile and turned to my room while she turned towards hers.

As soon as you were in the safety of your room you striped your tactical gear, doing your best to keep an even breath as it began to feel like the material was constricting your body. With one last solid tug you freed yourself from the clothing leaving you only in underwear.

The reflection in the mirror wasn’t terrible… Maybe that was an understatement. Your lips did in fact have the not so lovely purple tinge to them, your skin looked almost as white as paper besides the bruises and cuts. The burning feeling in your chest and the headache just kind of added to the pain.

You shook off the slight shock at the reflection, turning on the shower before stripping and stepping under the steaming water, washing away the grim that had apparently become one with your skin.

Despite it being relaxing, the shower did little to help the chest pain that burned through your chest, nor the continuous feeling of not having enough air in your lungs. So as soon as you stepped out of the shower and back into the room you found the little oximeter device and placed it onto your finger waiting for a number to pop up on the small screen.

‘80% oxygen level’ Well that's not good.

“Mx., should I call for a medic to assist you?” Jarvis’ voice echoed through the room causing the number representing your heart rate to spike.

“Uh- no, no it's alright Jarvis. I’m fine, thank you.” you reassured the A.I., pulling the device from your finger.

“Very well.”

You pulled on an oversized shirt that just happened to have landed into your laundry one day and a pair of thin comfortable pants before moving to your closet.

“Man, I’m gonna regret this.” you opened the door revealing the several oxygen tanks hiding under the clothes that hung in your closet. They were there only for emergencies and no one else knew about them except Bruce, who you had sworn to secrecy which he thoroughly disagreed with.

You chose one of the half sized tanks and the shoulder bag that carried it, slinging it onto your back and adjusting the fit. You carefully wrapped the plastic cannula over your ears before taking the plastic wrench piece and opening the flow of the tank settling at a fairly quick air flow. Almost immediately you began to feel the benefits of the small amount of oxygen entering your lungs, breathing a sigh of relief.

You quickly slipped on your slippers before returning downstiar which you figured everyone had returned too by now. You followed the sound of voices and wrappers crinkling in the kitchen, walking into the group there intimately discussing the best type of popcorn. But as soon as Tony caught sight of you standing in the doorway the conversation halted.

“What's with the getup?” he motioned to you.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know whose shirt it was, it was just in my clean laundry a few days ago.” you said, avoiding the obvious object in question. You looked up to see Nat giving me a pointed look and a deadpan from Tony.

“I meant the tube, and the backpack.”

“It's my new jetpack. You like it?” you smirked childishly at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Y/N. What's with the pack?” Steve commanded, obviously over the jokes.

“Sorry. I just needed a hit of oxygen. Nothing to get your undies in a twist.” you replied quietly. “What movie are we watching?” you asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from one of the various boxes that sat on the counter.

“Why do you need oxygen? Are you ill? Do you need new lungs?” Thor questioned passing over your previous one.

“Do you need your vitals checked?” Bruce suggested.

“How about we just take you to medical and have them look over you quick.” Clint suggested before stuffing the last of his pizza crust into his face.

“Stop!” you demanded, quieting the group. “I’m just fine. I checked my own vitals. I don't need new lungs and I'm not ill. I don't need medical treatment. What I need is just a relaxing night.” you stated.

“Are you sure? It wouldn't be a bad idea to-” Steve started before you cut him off.

“I'm sure. I’ve lived with this my whole life. I know what I need to do. Obviously if the out of breath feeling and the dizziness are constant then yes I’ll let one of you know that I need medical attention. Until then I just need some oxygen and RnR. Can we do that please?”

“Fine, for now. But if you still feel crappy after the movie you're going down to medical. No questions.” Tony compromised.

“Alright. I'll try not to faint on you guys until then.” you smiled, which immediately faded when no one laughed. “Im kidding.”

“Well, Miss Comedian, what movie are we watching?” Nat asked as she poured herself a glass of water.

“Y/F/M?” you offered, getting nods and sounds of approval. Steve's eyebrows crinked in confusion.

“What's that?”

“You’ll love it, capsicle. Covers everything from the last thousand years.” Tony smirked, grabbing a box of pizza and leaving the kitchen.

Steve glanced at you before looking at everyone else who just smiled and followed Tony. Eventually he got up and walked over to you.

“Hop on.” he said, crouching in front of you. So of course you followed orders, adjusting the tank on your back before climbing onto his.

“Man if I get service like this I should wear my oxygen tanks outside of my room more often.” you smile as he carries me to the living room.

“Wait? You’ve felt the need to wear oxygen before and you didn’t tell us?” his grip under my legs tightened a little.

“Oh wow, they already got the movie set up!” you said, trying to wiggle from his grasp.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, I have just because I know that this would've been the reaction. Im sorry. Next time I feel like this I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” with that he let you down, sitting next to you on the couch once youve settled down. You carefully maneuvered yourself so that your head laid in Steve's lap while your legs were across Thor while the movie played.

It was nice to be worried about every once in a while despite the overbearing motherly attitudes of most of the male teammates, but what can you do?

========================

S.S: Hope you liked it! Again I realize its kind of a case sensitive fic but I havent seen alot of fics with physically disabled characters. Thanks for reading!!

#captain america #ironman #steve rogers #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #hulk #blackwidow #thor #clintbarton #hawkeye #avengers #mcu #marvel #fluff #mission

45 notes · View notes

440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

Cookies and Milk

Pairing: Sam x Reader. Other characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills

Word Count: 5060+

Warnings: None really, except here there be fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were on a supply run in town to restock the bunker's refrigerator and pantry, one of your jobs while the boys were on a hunt. The list for this run wasn't as long as usual, but you still had quite a bit to buy. On your list were the items to make meatloaf, spaghetti, beef stew, chili, and your famous lasagna.

As you were nearing the frozen food section and the end of your list, your phone buzzed in your pocket with a text message from Dean. They were on their way home, and had stopped at a gas station for fuel and snacks. He wanted to let you know about when to expect him and Sam home.

DW: Hey, sweetheart. We stopped for gas and stuff, but we're still about five hours from home. Wanted to let you know.

You: I'm in town now, on a supply run. How did it go?

DW: I'll tell you more when we get back.

You: Okay, Dean. Drive careful, see you guys when you get home. Over and out.

Dean's last text message had you a little concerned, but there was no sense in worrying about it now. The best you could do was be there for the boys to support them, whatever they might need. Something you'd been doing for quite some time now, it seemed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You've been bunking with the Winchesters for the past six years now, but you've known them much longer than that. Ever since Bobby sent them to help you on that wendigo hunt, you've been the best of friends.

Over the years, you had drifted in and out of each others' lives, meeting up on a hunt or taking a break at Bobby's house. It wasn't until Bobby passed away that you moved into your own room in the bunker and semi-retired from hunting. You knew hunting was important work, it was just that you felt you could be more useful in a support capacity.

The bunker's gym helped you keep in shape and maintain your fighting skills. For the most part, though, you were in charge of the bunker. Your duties mostly included supply runs, chief cook and bottle washer, research and medical service. You also fielded calls for information from other hunters, given the expansive Men of Letters' library.

You and Dean shared a love of classic rock music, action movies and baked goods. Whenever Dean needed a bit of cheering up, you knew just how to do it. Usually, a freshly-baked pie was all it took to put him on the road to recovery. Didn't matter what flavor, though you knew apple, cherry and pecan were among his favorites.

Sam was different. To you, he was the "quieter Winchester". With his warm hazel eyes, thick chestnut hair and long arms perfect for providing comfort when you needed it. The two of you bonded over books, whether for research or for fun. You didn't always see eye-to-eye on music, but he didn't mind watching a chick-flick with you every now and then.

He was particularly sensitive to other peoples' emotions, quick to offer comfort at the first sign of distress. On the other hand, accepting comfort from those closest to him wasn't always easy for Sam. He had a tendency to want to process things on his own, away from prying eyes and concerned hearts.

With Sam, if you needed to talk, you could count on him to listen and not dismiss your feelings. You could be yourself with him, even let your inner "nerd self" shine through. As time passed, your feelings had developed to where you saw Sam as more than your best friend. You knew you had to keep those thoughts about him to yourself, though. The last thing you ever wanted was to risk a longtime friendship over what you were sure was one-sided affection.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While you were putting away the groceries at home, your thoughts drifted back to your feelings about Sam. You wished there was some way to show him how much you cared, how you were there for him if he needed someone.

You remembered that one way you showed Dean that you cared was with a homemade pie. You wondered if something like that would work in the same way for Sam. So instead of pie, you decided to make Sam a batch of cookies. It would be your way of telling him that someone was thinking about him, like the pie did for Dean.

With a plan of action and a renewed sense of purpose, you rummaged through the cupboards and found that you had everything you needed for some oatmeal chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies. You hurried to put away the rest of the groceries so you could get started on the baking.

You got right to work mixing the butter, sugar, eggs and the other ingredients. You also made sure to sample a few of the chocolate and peanut butter chips. Got to check the quality level, you thought with a smile.

After you finished cleaning up from your baking endeavors, you still had a couple of hours before Dean said they would be home. You reached for your book that was left on the coffee table and you picked up reading where you left off. Next thing you knew, a hand was caressing your cheek, so you opened your eyes to see Dean smiling down at you.

"We're home, sweetheart," he said softly.

You yawned and stretched in your chair. "Welcome home, Winchesters," you replied sleepily. You pulled yourself into an upright position and looked around the room. "Where's Sam?" you asked.

Dean dropped his gaze. "He headed off to go take a shower," Dean answered. "This was a rough one, honey. I'm just glad it's over, though. It's so good to be home," he explained.

"I'm glad you're home too, Dean. Wanna tell me what happened?" you asked gently.

He took a seat on the couch next to your chair. "It was a lot of little things that added up to one giant mess. Nothing went according to plan, even more 'off book' than usual," Dean explained. "We both almost got clawed, but we managed to fight them off. Now they can't hurt anyone else," he remarked.

You stood up from your chair and held out your hand. "Walk with me, Dean, I have a surprise for you in the kitchen. I may or may not have made you an apple pie yesterday. You know, unless you're not interested...." you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Dean jumped up from the couch as if sitting on a spring, taking your hand as he reached his feet. "Really?" he asked excitedly. You nodded, and he gave you a peck on the cheek. "Bestest best friend ever," he grinned and rushed off in the direction of the kitchen.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night after a dinner of pizza and Dean having a third slice of pie, you went to your room to read to help you fall asleep. Dean's exhaustion started to take its toll on him, so he showered and after wishing you goodnight, he went to bed. Sam hadn't come out for dinner, but there was enough leftover pizza that you weren't worried about him going hungry.

As the night wore on, you started to hear talking from the direction of Sam's room. You put your book down, put on your slippers and carefully opened your door. You roamed the hallways, trying to find the source of the noise. It was at its loudest when you were standing in front of Sam's door.

You peeked into his room to see him in the middle of a nightmare, tossing and turning. A sheen of perspiration had formed on his brow. Your heart broke for him a little to see him in such turmoil when he should be at rest.

After getting a cool, wet washcloth for him, you carefully sat on the edge of his bed. You gently placed the washcloth on his forehead and reached to take his hand in both of yours. He jumped at the unexpected contact and his eyes flew open. His head swiveled frantically from side to side, taking in his surroundings and trying to figure out what was going on.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Sam. I'm here, you're safe now. It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real," you soothed. His breathing slowly returned to normal and he started to come back around.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry if I did," Sam rasped.

"No, I was awake, reading when I heard you in here, having your nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently.

"Not right now," he answered with a shiver.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to discover that it was so wet. His clothes were soaked in sweat, as were his sheets. "Hey, let's get you into some dry clothes, you'll catch cold if you don't," you remarked. "I'll take the sheets off and put them in the laundry room to be washed tomorrow. While I'm doing that, you change," you ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After he had changed into some dry clothes, Sam wandered into the kitchen for a late snack, since he hadn't come out for dinner. He knew you and Dean had pizza for dinner, so he headed for the fridge to get some of the leftovers.

He stopped when he saw the note on the table with his name on it, next to a plate of cookies and an empty glass. Sam didn't remember you making any cookies before they left for the hunt. He loved it when you made cookies. If he had seen them, he definitely would've taken some with him.

Sam looked around to see if you were near the kitchen and were going to join him, but didn't see you anywhere. He chuckled at your instructions that he was to eat all of the cookies by dunking them in the tall glass of milk. Then he was supposed to drink all of the milk, even though it would have cookie crumbs in it. Well, if she insists, he thought with a grin. Sam poured himself a glass of milk, then sat down to attack the plate of cookies.

Per your instructions, he dunked the first cookie, letting it soak up some of the milk like a sponge. The first bite was heavenly, as it seemed to melt in his mouth. A groan of appreciation escaped his lips, not only for the taste, but for your efforts in making the cookies in the first place.

As the cookies disappeared one by one, Sam thought about how you helped him out of his nightmare tonight. You woke him up out of it, and took care of him by making sure he changed into some dry clothes. You also set up his sheets to be washed in the morning. That last hunt really took it out of him, with so much not going according to plan.

Sam welcomed any opportunity he could to confide in you about how he was feeling or just to feel your arms around him. He longed to hear your kind words and let them wash over him in your soft, soothing voice as it fell from those pouty, kissable lips. And your eyes always held such understanding. No matter what secrets he shared with you, he never saw any judgment in their depths.

Before Sam knew it he was out of cookies, so he followed your last instruction and drank all the milk. He smiled to himself because he had to admit that he felt a bit better than when he first walked into the kitchen. He took his dirty dishes to the sink, rinsed out the glass, then he headed back to his room to sleep. The only part that would've made it better is for you to have also been in the kitchen, spending time with him and talking.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you wandered into the kitchen to start making breakfast, still wearing your pajamas. Coffee was the first order of business, because Dean was very grumpy without it. You went to the sink to fill the pot with water for making coffee. You noticed that the plate and glass you left out for Sam had been rinsed and were waiting to be washed. A small smile crept across your face, knowing that your mission had been accomplished.

Dean stumbled into the kitchen shortly after you pressed the 'start' button on the coffee pot. He took a seat at the table and grumbled as he rested his head on top of the table. "Good morning, Dean," you giggled.

He lifted his head and stared at you through half-lidded eyes. "Is coffee ready yet?" he rasped.

"Not yet, but I'll make sure you get some as soon as it is," you chuckled. You squeezed Dean's shoulder as you walked by him on your way back to the stove.

You heard someone clearing his throat and looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway. "Good morning, Sam," you said with a smile. "I hope it didn't take you too long to get back to sleep last night," you remarked.

"Good morning to you. No, I came in here after I changed clothes and had some cookies and milk that a certain someone left for me," Sam replied as he returned your smile.

You couldn't help but grin as you kept your head down and continued to prepare breakfast. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Sam," you said.

"Uh huh, yeah right," he smirked. "I thought for sure you were going to come in here to join me, but you didn't," Sam pouted.

"Oh. I thought you might want that time to yourself, so I went back to my room. Sorry," you replied.

He stepped behind you to grab three coffee cups from the cabinet, then turned to glance over your shoulder. Sam was so close that you swore you could feel his breath on your neck as you flipped the pancakes.

"Something I can help you with, Sam?" you asked. As you turned to make eye contact with the man behind you, he was so close that your lips meshed against his ever so gently. Your cheeks immediately felt blazing hot and you closed your eyes tightly to regain your composure.

Sam jumped back in surprise, then touched his lips where yours had most recently been. He took a hesitant step towards you as you flipped the last of the pancakes. You put them on the platter and turned off the griddle. You brought the steaming stack of flapjacks over to the table, then awkwardly excused yourself from the room.

Dean stared after you as you bolted from the kitchen. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

A grin slowly spread across Sam's face as it dawned on him what had just occurred. He realized how perfect it felt to have your lips pressed against his, even if only for the briefest of moments. Sam also became aware of how much he wanted to do that again, but for longer and with even more contact. "I don't know, Dean," he said slowly.

"Dude, you okay?" Dean asked, cutting into Sam's daydream.

"Perfect, Dean. Just perfect. Can you please pass the bacon?" Sam answered.

"You know this is real bacon, right?" Dean said as he eyed his brother.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay, I'll burn the calories off tomorrow on my run," he assured Dean.

"Getting weird around here," Dean muttered.

Back in your room, you sat on the edge, head in your hands. What the hell was I thinking, kissing Sam? you asked yourself. Not like you hadn't thought or dreamed about it a thousand or more times. But with how he jumped back like he was burned, that was indication enough that he considered it a mistake.

Now it's going to get weird around here and that's my fault, you thought bitterly. You had to admit to yourself that his lips felt nice, and that you would like to do it for real and often. However, you decided your best course of action for at least today was to hole up in your room for a date with Netflix.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of days after the "Kitchen Incident", as you thought of it, you decided to quit hiding out in your room. Whatever fallout was going to happen, you wanted to meet it head-on, then move forward, whatever that looked like.

Sam and Dean still went on cases, some that lasted a few days or even a week, while you stayed behind to run research. Life had seemingly returned to somewhat normal, or as normal as the hunting life gets.

Every once in a while, a plate of cookies and an empty glass for milk appeared on the kitchen table. Next to the glass would be a tented piece of paper marked, "For Sam". The usual instructions were written on the inside. He had to eat all of the cookies by dunking them in the milk, then drink all of the milk. Sometimes there would be a quote from a movie that you had watched together, or some silly knock-knock joke.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About a month had passed and Sam and Dean were on their way home from a demon hunt in Montana. They had stopped in Sioux Falls to rest up at Jody's house and hang out with her and the girls before heading home. You asked Sam and Dean to say hi to everyone for you, and that you wished you were there.

Dean asked if you were going to do any baking, to which you laughed and asked him what kind of pie he wanted you to make. "Well, sweetheart, as long as you're offering, would you make a pecan pie for me?" he asked.

"I can do that. Um....how was the hunt?" you wondered.

Dean knew what you were really asking, but played along anyway. "It was fine, just demons being demons, causing their usual trouble. Sammy got knocked around a little though," Dean answered. "For the most part, he's okay. Sprained his wrist and has a bump on his head," he explained.

"What?!? Is he okay? Does he have a concussion, are you sure his wrist is only sprained?" you rambled.

"Shh, shh, relax. He's going to be fine. Here, talk to him," Dean said as he threw his phone to his brother, who threw him an epic bitch face in return.

"Hello? Sam, are you there?" you inquired nervously.

"I'm here. Don't listen to anything Dean says, I'm fine. How're you doin'?" Sam asked.

"Just trying to keep busy while I wait for you guys to come home. I must have done around seven loads of laundry in the last couple of days, though," you giggled. "You and Dean had at least three loads apiece!" you teased.

Sam smiled and chuckled in return. "I'm sure sorry about that, honey. I'll try not to let the clothes pile up so much next time," he promised.

Jody looked at Dean, with her mouthing the word, "Honey?" Dean just shrugged.

"Oh, it's all right, Sam. I was only kidding. I've got plenty around here to keep me busy and out of trouble," you remarked. "I miss you guys, but I know you don't get much chance to visit with Jody and her girls. So, don't be in a hurry to get home, and I'll see you when you get back," you replied softly.

"It's all up to Dean when he wants to leave, but I'll tell him you said that," Sam said. "Until then, take care of yourself and don't work too hard, okay?" he asked.

"I won't. Bye, Sam," you answered shyly. You heard a click and the call was disconnected.

Sam threw the phone back to his brother, a smile on his face. He got up from the couch and went into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Jody's and Dean's eyes followed Sam as he left the room. Once he was out of earshot, Jody and Dean were sharing their thoughts about Sam's phone conversation with you.

"Is there something going on between those two?" Jody asked. "Because it sure seems that way to me," she finished.

"Yeah, you should see them at home. They'll be sitting at the table researching or doing something on their laptops. I'll look up and see one of them staring at the other, then looking away. It's kind of cute, though," Dean replied.

"I can imagine. So, you'll have a pecan pie waiting for you when you get home, that'll be nice," Jody remarked.

"Yeah, and Sammy will probably have a plate of cookies waiting for him on the table," Dean answered.

"Wait. Mr. Eat-A-Salad-With-Every-Meal eats cookies?!?" Jody exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, but only the ones she makes for him. It started after we got back from that werewolf hunt that went so bad," Dean explained with a grin. "At first, it was how she let Sammy know that he could talk to her about it or anything else if he wanted to. However, I think it's evolved into something more than that at this point," Dean said.

"Hmm. Maybe now it's her way of showing Sam how she feels. She might be too afraid to say it out loud," Jody suggested.

Neither Dean nor Jody had heard Sam come in from the kitchen. He heard the tail end of their conversation, the part about the reason you'd been leaving a plate of cookies out for him. "Hold on a minute. That's why she's been making me cookies?" Sam asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Jody and Dean looked at each other, debating on what to say next. Dean finally rolled his eyes and spoke first. "Come on, Sam, add it up," he started. "I've seen the two of you making goo-goo heart eyes at each other when you think the other's not looking. Then there's that phone conversation between you today," Dean smirked.

"What about our phone conversation?" Sam demanded.

"Nothing, just that if you smiled any wider while you were talking to her, your face would've split in half. And somehow, I don't think this is a recent thing for her," Jody chimed in.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Sam wondered.

"Well, remember the last time we all got together with Donna and Doug, about six months ago?" Jody asked and Sam nodded. "I noticed how her eyes seemed to follow you as soon as you entered the room. Then she looked away when you smiled at her and had caught her staring. How her face fell when you started talking and laughing with another woman," Jody finished quietly.

"H-how was she looking at me, Jody?" Sam asked, even though he pretty much knew the answer.

"Like a woman in love," she replied gently.

Sam turned to look at his brother. "Really?" he asked, his voice higher than usual.

Dean nodded. "So, the question really becomes, how do you feel about her, Sam?"

"I think I need some air," Sam said as he got up and walked out to Jody's back deck.

Once outside, he tilted his head up to see the endless array of stars shining in the night sky. Get it together, man, he told himself. This is your best friend you're talking about. You've known her for years. Do you really want to lose that if she doesn't feel the same? he silently asked.

Looking at the other side of the argument, Sam asked himself what would happen if you did feel the same, and how he would know. He loved the late-night conversations you had when neither of you could sleep. The warm towel you placed outside the shower for him after a cold morning run. Your laughter at his usually lame-ass jokes. Even that heartbroken look on your face as he flirted with another woman at the bar was enough to indicate how you felt.

The more Sam thought about it, the more he marveled at how he didn't see it sooner. It was all in front of him this whole time, the little things you do to show you care. Comforting him after he'd had a nightmare, buying his favorite veggies for snacks.....making cookies. You were in love with him.

Sam was suddenly desperate to have you in his arms at this very moment. As the two of you gazed at the stars, he knew your eyes would sparkle with amazement. Then you'd turn your focus on him and give him one of your heart-stopping smiles.

At that point, Sam knew he'd be a goner. He wouldn't be able to resist capturing your lips in a searing kiss, if your mouth moved even a fraction of an inch in his direction. That last thought was what sealed it in his mind. He was in love with you. If even half of what Jody and Dean said was true, then he didn't want to waste any more time before telling you how he felt.

He walked back through the house and into the living room, where he'd left Jody and Dean. When Sam entered the room, they stopped their conversation, because to them, it looked like he had something to say. "Hey Dean? Um....Could we...." he fumbled.

"Yeah, we can leave for home in the morning, Sam," Dean replied with an understanding smile.

"Thanks," Sam sighed with relief.

"Go get 'er, Sam," Jody remarked in support, bringing a smile to Sam's face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had just pulled Dean's pecan pie from the oven and set it on the counter to cool. With any luck, it would be cooled off enough and ready to eat when he got home. There were also a few dozen snickerdoodle cookies you had made for Sam, resting on the wire cooling racks. You took out a plate from the cupboard and a tall glass. You placed about six cookies on the plate and set the glass next to the plate.

Taking out a blank sheet of paper, you folded it and tore it in half. On one half, you folded it into a tent and wrote "For Dean", then placed it next to the pecan pie. For the other half, you folded it the same, and wrote "For Sam" on the outside, then turned to write something on the inside.

Several minutes ticked by and you hadn't written anything. You couldn't think of a movie quote or line from Shakespeare to adequately express how you were feeling at the moment. You thought about your last conversation, the one where you heard he'd been hurt. Sam said it wasn't serious, but it was enough to cause you concern.

You decided you didn't want to hold back anymore when it came to your feelings about Sam. A hunter's life isn't always known to be a long one, and you were done wasting time. A smile broke out over your face as you resolved your writer's block. You wrote the three words that you felt best fit the situation, then left the note next to the cookies.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam convinced Dean to drop him off at the bunker so he had some time alone to talk with you. Dean said he would use the time to go back to town for a pizza or something. Sam first went to the kitchen, because he smelled the evidence of your baking endeavors. He saw the plate of cookies and bit into one as he read the note. As soon as he read the three words, he ran out of the kitchen.

A knock at your door startled you enough to make you drop the book you were reading. You took a deep breath then turned the doorknob. As soon as the door was open, Sam's hands were on you, cradling your face as he smashed his lips to yours. The urgency of his kiss made you gasp in surprise, creating an opening for Sam's tongue to slip inside. As you returned the favor, you could taste the cinnamon and sugar of the cookie he ate before he knocked on your door.

You broke the kiss when you needed to catch your breath. "Wow, Sam," you whispered. "That's some 'welcome home' you've got there," you chuckled.

"Couldn't help it, I had to see you, baby," he murmured. His right hand slid behind your head, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "Then I found the cookies and the note you'd left in the kitchen," he explained. Sam dove in for another kiss, but this one was slow and tantalizing, full of everything he was feeling at the moment. He pulled back from the kiss and guided you so you were both sitting on the edge of your bed.

Your hands slid up his chest and clasped behind Sam's neck. "I couldn't think of anything clever to put in the note this time. The more I thought about you, the less I wanted to hide how I felt about you. So I wrote the three words I believed would best fit the situation, and figured I'd explain once you read the note," you replied.

Sam grinned. "It said, 'Come find me', and how could I do anything else? I've thought about you so much these past couple of days. I don't want to hide how I feel about you, either. I love you," he declared, dipping his head lower to capture your lips with his own.

"Oh, Sam," you whispered. "I've felt this way for such a long time, but didn't know how to tell you. So, I baked," you both laughed. "I love you too," you replied softly.

You were about to pull Sam in for another kiss when you heard the bunker door slide open, which meant Dean was home. The two of you looked at each other and laughed, Sam's forehead leaned against yours. He gave you one last peck on the lips before he got up from the bed, his hand held out for you to take. You took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers as you walked out to see what Dean brought for dinner.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride

#sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn imagines #supernatural #spn

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beautiful-bau-beau · 4 years

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helloooo!! I have a Spencer request :) Could you write one where Spencer is injured (maybe like when he broke his leg or something like that) and he stays round yours and you look after him, help him shower, comfort him and stuff :)

Anonymous said to beautiful-bau-beau: could u do a soulmate au w spence where you feel the share pain with your soulmate, i think it would be interesting since spencer seems to be shot or nearly killed in almost every episode

Sticks and Stones

fem!reader/Spencer Reid

masterlist

[Set in season 5 when Spencer gets shot in the leg but makes references to Maeve]

----

To the average eye flowers are soft, simple little things. They spark romance in the hearts of budding couples, they aid the grieving widows, their beauty inspires the masses in forms such as poetry and art. For some, flowers only caused distress.

Few were "fortunate" in the world to have soulmates. Once twelve years of age, a soul bound to another would feel the pain, to a lesser extent, as well as receive a flower at the sight of the intrusion. Small purple blooms grew at bruises, at a cut, the flowers would mimic the length and size. Any other type of pain was indicated by large, red blossoms. As each wound healed, the flowers would wilt and die.

You were among the many to few flowers as flimsy nuisances, only serving as reminders of the pain you had to go through.

Before turning twelve you often wondered if you had a soulmate. You had spent many days vividly imagining who your soulmate was, what he looked like, what he did for a living, choosing to ignore that if you indeed had one, a lifetime of pain was sure to follow.

Lifetime of pain indeed.

Your soulmate must have been a stuntman, a police officer, hell- even a lion tamer with the amount of pain he seemed to put you through. The occasional bruise and scrape seemed to hit you up until your early twenties, that's when the real pain began.

Every other day it seemed that you were doubled over, screaming in agony. You were an ugly vision of purple and red, but hell, it seemed to strike up a conversation with you and your patients.

You served as a private duty nurse, taking care of patients in the safety of their own home. You enjoyed the one-on-one with your patients, and it was decidedly better than working in a crowded hospital with a difficult schedule.

You had just finished a job working with an elderly woman, as her granddaughter had recently decided to move in with her to take care of her. It was a sad departure, but the job had finished and it was now time for you to find another patient in need.

You were employed through a small local medical office and received career requests through their office website.

One particular request caught your eye that morning from a Ms. Penelope Garcia. A friend of hers had recently been shot in the leg and needed to quickly recover before returning to his job.

You eyed your own leg, sighing heavily. It still seemed to throb harshly every once in a while.

A week ago, out of nowhere, an extreme pain radiated through your leg, causing you to drop what you were doing and scream. Thankfully you hadn't been on the job but the look of pity your neighbors gave you the next day felt just as awful. Every time you glanced at the offending appendage you could swear you saw another blossom grow.

"You and me both, buddy." You mumbled, picking up your phone. The job seemed simple enough, and hopefully you would be able to bond with this new patient by shared leg pain.

"You ordered a nurse for me?" Spencer hissed into his cell, turning to look over his shoulder. "I can take care of myself!" He eyed your figure, currently unpacking a medical bag. You had entered his apartment mere minutes ago, not understanding his confusion.

"Are you Spencer Reid?" You asked, greeting his wheel-chair bound figure. "I'm Y/n Y/l/n, the nurse your girlfriend Penelope ordered." You were met with a blank stare. "Is she uh.. here?"

"I'm going to have to make a phone call." Spencer blurted, wheeling himself inside. He left the door open so you took it upon yourself to enter.

"Spencer, I love you but are you listening to yourself right now?" Penelope replied, twirling a pen around her fingers. "You were shot a week ago, you're in a wheelchair. How are you going to shower? Replace your bandages? Sweets, this nurse will help you. And before you even have to ask I already checked and your insurance covers this!"

"Garcia-"

"I won't hear anything more about it as I know I'm right! Goodbye, dear!" A heavy sigh came from the man, and he placed his cellphone back in his pocket. He turned to look at you again, wheeling his way over to you.

"I apologize for earlier. I wasn't exactly informed that you would be coming here." He placed his hands on his lap, awkwardly.

"That's alright!" You chirped. " You’re low-risk so I won’t invade your space too much by staying overnight with you. I'm here to help with personal medical care, bathing, trimming nails, and making you comfortable.... as well as urinary and colostomy care." His eyes widened and you simply waved him off. "I get it. It's weird. But from what I read through of your medical reports, the bullet went clear through and you'll need a crutch in two weeks! At least you're not hooked up to a catheter?" You tried to joke. You were met with another simple stare.

"Let's uh, change your bandages, shall we?"

It had been a few days since you started working with Spencer. He was a nice man, a little awkward, and seemed to be more of an introvert, so you respected his space. He seemed to take to staying in bed, simply asking for books every once and awhile.

"There's no way you're able to read all these so quickly. You'd have to be superhuman..." You teased, bringing him a stack of his latest requests.

"I have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute." Spencer replied, catching your eye. He flushed under your surprised glance. "...Not to brag."

"Well... that'll do it." You set each book in your arm down, one by one, a particular title catching your eye. "The Narrative of John Smith?"

"Have you read it?" He asked, trying not to sound too eager. He hadn't originally pegged you for an Arthur Conan Doyle fan.

"Uh, no." You scratched behind your ear sheepishly. "But a few friends of mine have, they all highly recommend it. What do you think? Does it live up to all the hype?" Spencer opened his mouth but shut it almost immediately, causing your brows to furrow.

"I can't tell you what to read... it's just a very special book to me."

"Did someone special give you the book? Penelope?" Spencer let out a chuckle, hissing as he adjusted himself on his bed.

"Garcia is just a friend but you're correct, someone special gave me the book."

"A soulmate?" You asked, immediately regretting your choice of words. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I'm just the nosy nurse that asks too many questions." You knew it was a sensitive topic for some, with or without the soulmate.

"No, it wasn't from a soulmate... but I wish she was." Spencer's voice grew soft. You felt as if you had stepped too far, intruded upon a fond memory.

"I do have one though." He continued, noticing your unease. "Sometimes I worry I imagined her but every once and awhile, I'll notice some flowers by my legs, the likely result of a cut from shaving or bruises." You let out a laugh, leaning against his door frame.

"I would love a low-risk soulmate like that. He must jump through flaming hula-hoops or something. I could make a decent living as a florist." You murmured.

"That's got to be tough." Spencer observed, noticing no flowers on your arm.

"I guess he's a lot like you." You lifted up your pant leg, crimson petals on display. "His reason can't be nearly as heroic as yours, though." Spencer couldn't suppress the smile that grew from the compliment.

"Well I guess you'll have to find him and ask."

"Well you're in the FBI right? Let's formulate a profile and find him so I can give him a piece of my mind. You in?" You teased.

"Sounds like a worthy use of all my newfound time." He let out a small huff of amusement, eyeing your figure. He appreciated how lighthearted and casual you were. He noticed the space you gave him and your little efforts to make the apartment easier to maneuver around. Although he hadn't seemed motivated at first, something told him he should get to know you more.

"Y/n?" Spencer asked, drawing your attention away from one of the books you had borrowed from his shelf. "Is there any way we can wash my hair?" He had procrastinated in asking, too embarrassed for whatever your plan was for showering.

"Of course! I could cut it too if you'd like." You offered, standing to wheel him into the bathroom.

"Are you saying you don't like my hair?" He faked an offended tone which he knew would make you laugh.

"I think your hair is beautiful, right at that perfect length before it gets too weird for any man to wear." You snorted. You moved him to a stool, not too difficult a feat as he was able to support the majority of his weight on his good leg. "Alright, the shirt has got to come off."

"Isn't against a code to try and seduce your patients?" Spencer teased. Since your conversation the other day he had grown to feel more comfortable with you and a friendship ensued. You took care when treating him and told stories of past patients. It was clear you loved what you did and cared for the people even more.

"Oh please. If I was seducing you, which I'm not, you'd know." You rolled your eyes, waiting for him to lift his arms before peeling his shirt off of him. He leaned back, long tresses falling into a pool in the sink.

He was extremely handsome, you couldn't deny it. His sharp cheekbones and jawline, his full and enticing lips, the way his hand flexed as he read.... you didn't notice any of that. You especially didn't notice how wonderfully intelligent he was, or how kind. Not at all.

Besides, it would never work. You both had your respective soulmates and he seemed to still be carrying a torch for the past relationship he was in. Not to mention the most important factor of all, he was your patient.

You carefully stepped around him to grab a large and small towel, snickering as you found a familiar design on one.

"Star Trek fan?" You asked, hanging the fabric on the shower rail and turning the tap on to warm water.

"Typically I'm not one for fiction but surprisingly there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors, which make it so enjoyable to watch."

"Eh, I've only seen the film from 2009, and I was mostly paying attention to the deliciously handsome cast." You knew that would agitate him. "And not just for Chris Pine but Zachary Quinto as Spock? Oh, he is gorgeous, even if he is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, and not that I had a chance with him anyway." You laughed.

"Y/n, I am not one to comment on the education of another but you are seriously missing out! Star Trek: The Next Generation is one of the most influential series of it's time. the new film doesn't even have Data! Data, y/n, Data!" He grumbled as you washed his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Next you're going to tell me that the 1996 Doctor Who movie is better than the series?" He opened his mouth when you raised your soapy hand. "Disregard that statement, I can't afford another argument, I'm already too emotional from our last one." You faked a sniffle.

"You know, most females I talk to don't watch Star Trek or Doctor Who."

"I'm just that amazing, I know." You sighed, moving to grab the washcloth and dousing it with water, handing it to Spencer so he could wash himself. You grabbed the Star Trek towel and started to dry Spencer's hair.

"You're something alright." He retorted, drawing a gasp from you.

"I could have let you sit with greasy hair, you know!" Just for extra measure you rubbed his head a little harsher than before but miscalculated your aim, accidentally hitting your wrist against the marble sink.

Spencer felt pain radiate through his wrist and time seemed to slow. It suddenly seemed to dawn on him all at once. You experienced constant pain, pain he gave you because he was often injured on the job. Not to mention his gunshot wound on your leg and now the purple blossoms forming on his wrist.

He wanted to shout, yell, jump up, wrap you in a hug. He had finally found his soulmate! However, he remained silent.

When you spoke about your soulmate the other day you seemed angry and forlorn at the amount of pain you had to endure. There was no doubt in his mind that if you knew he was your soulmate, you would walk right out of his life, but not before giving him a swift kick to the ass.

So he stayed quiet.

You weren’t sure what changed between you and Spencer. After the shower he mentioned he didn’t feel too well so you guided him to bed. Since then he stayed in his room, barely calling you to his side.

It was weird. If it was any other patient you would have paid no mind and kept to yourself but you thought you had made a connection with Spencer. You enjoyed the banter between you both and finding out your shared interests. It must have all been in your head. You brought yourself out of your thoughts to prepare Spencer’s tea.

“Here you are!” You called, stepping into his room to hand him the mug. “I’m about to head out, do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.” You stayed by the door, waiting to see if he would even spare you a glance. When he made no motion to move, you gave up, spinning on your heel to grab your purse and coat.

“Ah!” You heard Spencer hiss from the other room before feeling a sharp sting on your tongue. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, brows knitting together in confusion. Was he…? Did he…?

Spencer was your soulmate, he had to be. There was no possible way that him burning his mouth and your pain that followed were coincidences, right? Spencer was your soulmate! So why did you feel your heart drop into your stomach?

You shut the door, racing down the stairs and out of his apartment building, letting the cold air sweep over you.

There was nothing special about you. You were just a simple nurse and he was your patient. Besides, how were you deserving of Spencer? You weren’t.

He couldn’t find out, he just couldn’t.

You didn’t know if it was just because you knew that Spencer was your soulmate but the tension between the two of you was… palpable.

“Hey!” You popped your head into his room, his figure jumping in surprise. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you!” You exclaimed.

“Hi?” He greeted, trying to seem calm. You were leaving tomorrow and he was panicking. The past few hours were spent debating about whether he should tell you that he was your soulmate. Could he really just let this opportunity pass by?

“I just wanted to know if you needed anything? I figured you probably ran out of books by now. Everytime I think you’ve reread all the books in your library I keep finding new ones.” You tried to joke.

“I… Yes. Yes, please.” He mumbled, hiding his gaze. You sighed, wondering for the millionth time what you had done wrong to make him so distant and reclusive.

“Alright, I’ll take the stack.” You bit your lip to keep from sighing once more, groaning as you picked up the books littered around the room. “God these are heavy.” You whispered under your breath, trying to waddle into the other room as you quickly realized you were losing your grip. It seemed as if it was too late, the pounds of literature falling on your feet.

Both you and Spencer let out a groan, heads snapping towards each other in surprise.

“Did you- did you feel that?” You asked, even if you knew the answer.

“I did.” Spencer’s voice seemed small. “Y/n, I am so sorry.” You were taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“You’re sorry?” You questioned, pain forgotten as shame radiated through you. “Am I that bad of a soulmate?” You whispered, clenching your fist to keep tears from pricking your eyes.

“No! No, no, no!” He tried to sit up as straight as he could, internally cursing at how hurt you looked. “I only apologized because… I can’t help but feel like I disappointed you! I am an FBI agent, I’m always going to be in danger therefore putting you in danger. When you first mentioned your soulmate you seemed so… upset. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to make you happy.” He admitted, the tips of his ears turning red as his gaze fell to his lap.

“Disappointed? Past-tense?” You cried. “Did you know about this?” He didn’t move.

“Well… I guess I can’t be angry with that.” You sighed. “I knew too. I just thought that… you wouldn’t want me. You still seemed so in love with whatever woman gave you that book. And out of my league. And my patient.” You let out a wry laugh, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Are you kidding me? You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met. You make me laugh and you are so kind and caring. I am proud to be your soulmate.” He swallowed thickly.

“Spencer you are selfless. You dedicate your life every day to helping others. You are handsome, sweet, and hilarious.” You reached for his hand. “And I am so happy you turned out to be my soulmate.”

Your eyes finally met and before you knew it, your lips smashed against his.

“I don’t know if you know this… but I happen to get injured on a lot of missions.” He uttered as you pulled apart. “So I have a feeling that I’ll need you around more often.”

“Well Doctor, I think you just might be right.” You giggled, drawing him in for another kiss.

-----

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