#i have to go pick up my medical files and it's on the other side of the city

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- 2 am(smut)

Time wise takes place in season 1, I don't think my timelines exactly right but I can't find exact dates since they're lot really specified.

I’m on a Fuckin role!

4.2k words!!! Not at all edited I just finished this and posted it

5/22/23

Your pov-

It's not every night you get a call from Greg House  to come to his apartment at 2 in the morning...but here I was standing in the entrance room of apartment 221 about to knock on the door to apartment B.

I've been to his house before, I've known the asshole for 11 years, I met him a year before his golfing incident.

I raised my hand and knocked on the door, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough to not alert the neighbors. I waited for a few seconds of nothing and knocked again, a few seconds later it opened.

"Get in." He promptly spoke, turning around and immediately walking away.

I came in, shutting the door behind me. I kicked my slippers off as i gazed over at the piano, which was obviously being used a bit earlier by the open music and shuffled around music sheets on top. Last week it was tucked in the corner, now it's facing out into the room. One guitar was hung on the wall, the other on a floor stand.

On his coffee table was a half empty bottle of whiskey and a few scrambled folders.

"I was sleeping you know." I said as he came out of the kitchen with a mug. He was still in his work clothes, well the T-shirt and pants part of it, and Now I'm noticing the smell of coffee.

"Fully aware, sit." He plopped down onto the couch and leaned forward, resting his cane against the arm of the couch on his side.

I let out a sigh as I walked over, plopping down next to him. He handed me the red mug right away and I grabbed it.

"That's one hell of a tank top." He commented and I looked down at myself. It was white, and tight. I didn't get dressed alright, I threw on some plaid pj pants, grabbed a zip up hoodie, and threw on my slippers and left.

"Shut the fuck up Greg. I gotta be in the office at six." I took a sip from the mug,"this is fucking good."

"Good, so look at this." He handed me a whole file so I put the mug down on the table and leaned back with the folder.

"Anna Mae Johnson, 56, female..Hallucinating and loosing her vision." I looked up from the file and looked at him, leaned back in the corner of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You were the only neurologist that picked up my call." He shrugged. I'm not just a neurologist, I'm also an ophthalmologist and general surgeon. I didn't let my scholarships at Stamford go to waste. "And, frankly I don't feel like spending another 3 hours with this women."

"Wilson didn't pick up?" I raised my brow.

"Oh no, he did. And he told me to fuck off." He half smiled for a second and i rolled my eyes.

"Could've called me down when I was at the office Greg." I shook my head at him,"Wheres the scans and tests?"

"Red folder." I put down the file and opened up the red folder.

I saw brain scans and negative labs, I was looking for an Amsler grid report or a OCT.

"Did you get an ophthalmologist to look at her eyes?" I looked over at him and he raised his brow at me,"her eyes. She's loosing her vision, did you get some sight tests?"

"Should be something in there." I rolled my eyes at him as I flipped through papers,"Why her eyes?"

"I thought diagnostic medicine was your specialty?" I shot at him and heard his scoff," because macular degeneration, loosing the vision." I opened up the patients file and flipped to the medical history, I felt him shift on the couch, he was sitting closer to me, leaning forward to look at the file...or maybe my chest.

"The gears are turning." He poked my temple.

"Alright, She started having problems with her vision 3 months ago, blurry and getting worse. She went to the eye doctor to change her prescription, it worked for 3 weeks and she never went back. Could be wet AMD."

"abnormal blood vessels growing under the retina. Which have been leaking blood or other fluids, which causes scarring of the macula."he nodded slowly as he looked towards the fireplace.

"So do Anti-VEGF treatment. But the hallucinations aren't a symptom of the AMD. Could be Charles Bonnet syndrome, that's a symptom of vision loss, lack of light entering the Retina so the brains creating images to fill the void." I explained and he hummed.

"can't treat the CBS, but we can treat the AMD, either with the anti-VEGF or laser surgery."

"VEGF first, then the laser." I closed the folders and grabbed the mug and leaned back in the leather couch. "what else?"

"That's really it."He looked back at me and I cocked my head in disbelief at him.

"You didn't know it was AMD or CBS?" I took a sip and he shrugged.

"Had a slight idea, needed a 4th opinion." He grabbed the whiskey bottle and opened it, pouring some into his glass. He closed it and leaned back, holding his glass on his right thigh.

"At two AM?"

"We'll considering you were teaching from three to five, i couldn't bother you. I knew I could get you at two AM, I've gotten you at four." I shook my head as I took snother drink from the mug,"why haven't I hired you?"

"Because I like having my own office." I answered,"my turn, why in the last eleven years haven't I slapped you yet?"

"We'll, for like 5 of those I was married."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Might've wanted to jump my bones afterwards, I've heard some things." I let out a laugh at the smug look in his face.

"We were both single, horny, and drunk." I crossed my right ket over my left leg,"it doesn't count."

"Oh wilson counts it." He smirked snd wiggled his brows. I let out a sigh, and ran my tongue under my bottom k-9s with a smirk on my face.

"I'm not tell-"he cut me off promptly.

"I don't need you too, I've heard it already." He looked away from me and looked over at the fireplace again and then to the coffee table.

"Oh really? What was your favorite part?" I asked sarcastically, Wilson told me he didn't tell anyone we screwed, but I know Greg doesn't count.

"When you- and I quote- sucked his soul from his dick and then rid him like a fucking pornstar." He finally looked at me,"the scratches you left on his back were also very impressive."

"Wow alright." I felt my heart in my throat, not in a bad way.

I sat up and placed the mug on the table, uncrossing my legs and standing up.

"I'm going-"

"No you're not," he grabbed my wrist, not hard but strong enough to keep me,"you wanna see how far this will go. You're blushed, got a little shake in your hand." He let go it my wrist," And I gotta say, your tits look great. It'd be a crime to not give them attention."

"Is that the Vicodin or whiskey talking?" I sat down if the edge if the couches arm, he was placed in the middle of the couch now.

"Me."

"What? Is a Hooker not available for a night call?" I love giving him a hard time.

"I thought she did arrive?" He gasped and looked at me with a shocked expression. I scoffed at him.

"So what? You call me to come here, have me look at your patients files and solve it for you, and now you think I'm gonna fuck you?"  I crossed my arms and he cocked his head before nodding.

"I don't think you are, I know you are. Wilson's bad at keeping secrets and you like to talk." He took a drink from his glass,"so either we can fuck, or you can just keep waiting, but you've been waiting awhile so I don't think you want to."  My jaw dropped slightly at his words. Damnit Wilson. 

I slid off the arm and sat down next to him, my toros turned to him, my arm resting on the head of the couch, my brows furrowed.

"So I'm actually here to fuck you?" I asked,"you couldn't wait. just had to have me huh?"

"I can blame you for my acute insomnia lately, that's why I'm awake."  He leaned forward and out his glass on the table.

"I've finally gotten under Dr.houses skin haven't I?" I raised my brow, a smirk on my face.

"You've been under my skin for awhile, it's not new." That was news to me. these last couple of months it seemed like he could care less. He kept me around, but it wasn’t the same. I knew how he was though, why I never brought it up.

“Really?” I got a surge of confidence, and I took it.

I used my leverage on the couch to move and straddle his thighs, making sure I was careful when coming around to his right leg. His hands immediately came and sat on my thighs

“Thought you were leaving?” He looked over his shoulder to the door,”or was I right?”

“You’re right, I wanna jump your bones.”

“What about your six AM shift?” His hands left my hips and came up to take hold of my hoodie by the collarbones,”suddenly not important because you know you’re gonna get fucked?”

“I suddenly don’t have to go in till nine.” He pushed my hoodie off, I let it fall off my arms and he watched it do so, he then tossed it down to the side of the coffee table. When he looked up at me, I let my lips come down on his, he responded quickly. My hands sat on his shoulders and His hands sat on my ass, he used the grip to pull me closer to him. My chest pushing into his.

I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and the coffee on mine. His beard tickled my chin and all I could think about was how it would feel in between my legs, the thought made my hips grind down on him. His finger tips pushed into my skin as he joined in on the motion. Rocking my hips steadily down on his hardening cock in his pants.

A hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his head, my fingers carding through his hair. I could feel my heartbeat in my pussy, snd I could myself getting wet.

He pulled away from me shortly after, but his lips came back to my skin. Placing a trail of kisses from my jaw to my neck, the feeling of his beard caused a small moan to escape as his hands slid up the back of my ass and took hold of the hem of my tanktop.

I felt him bundling it in his hands, though his lips didn’t leave my neck yet, he wasn’t bitting or sucking just leaving open mouth kisses as he traveled to my collarbones and placed a kiss in between them.

His eyes met mine again, his pupils more dilated then before. He didn’t say anything but took the moment to start lifting my tanktop off snd I let him, he tossed it behind me to my hoodie.

“I knew they were nice, but wow.” His eyes were glued on my chest like a teenage boy to his first playboy magazine. his hands rubbed up and down my waist,”sure they’re real? I’ll be able to tell.”

“They are.” I replied as his hands took hold of them, massaging them. I pressed them harder into his hands, I just wanted to feel him. If I was gonna screw Dr.House, I might as well make it good.

I kept my hips rocking on him, my hips rocking faster and I tried to keep my upper half as still as possible. his hard cock rubbing against my clothes pussy. What a night to wear lace to bed. He pressed kisses to my left breast before taking my nipple into my mouth, that hand slid down my ribs and pushed past the band of my pants and slipped right past my panties.

His tongue swirled around the bud as his finger ran right over my slit before diving to my clit.

“Aah yes.” I sighed out, finally reviving what I want, focusing on grinding into his finger. he wasn’t moving it, just keeping it there for me to use. I appreciate it. His mouth left my nipple and me pressed a kiss between both my breasts. Another moan left my mouth as my head lulled back, my lips stayed parted.

“Wet and needy, just as I was hoping.” His hand slipped away from my breast and onto my waist, he held it tightly,”the tough doctor turns into a little bitch when aroused.”

“Focus on me, not yourself.” I retorted and he scoffed.

Something I was expecting was getting flipped my off of him. He had me pinned under him, his good leg kneeled on the couch, keeping my right leg pinned to the back of the couch, also keeping him stable with the help of his new found grip on the couches arm. His finger didn’t leave the clit In the motion, so he started rubbing faster, even added a second finger.

My chest started rising a bit faster as more moans left my lips, and in true men-fashion, right as it was getting good…he pulled away. His hand exited my pants, but both hands came and met the band of my pants. His weight shifted to his good knee as he pulled both pieces of clothing down my legs, lifting them up when needed, then letting them fall. He tossed the clothing with the rest and I sat up and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, taking a moment to start a heated kiss, one that lasted long enough to slide my hands to the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up.

I pulled away from him to get it over his head and arms and threw it behind Me. Grabbing his face and pulling him back down with me resuming the kiss. Grabbed my previously pinned leg and held it over his hip and pulled away from me. His right hand came back down to my pussy. Wet and begging for anything; Which he gave. His middle finger came down to my core, circling it before diving in. A moan louder then the rest ripped out of me.

“If only I could get that sound copied on a record, could listen to it all day.” I looked at him through slotted eyes, meeting his blue ones which shifted from my gaze to my Pussy. His ring finger joined his middle finger, pumping out of me in a medium pace. My back was sticky against the leather as my back lifted up, my boobs lightly bouncing as my chest rose and fell.

“Feels fucking great.” I moaned out, my eyes falling closed. I felt the couch shift and then lips and a beard against my inner thigh. Trailing open mouth kisses to my core. I couldn’t stop the begging from leaving my lips,”please Greg, please.”

“Gettin’ there.” He quickly commented before his tongue latched to my clit.

My body shivered and my eyes rolled back under my closed lids. His fingers finally found my gspot and my hand shot to his hair, tugging on his crown. My hips rolled into his face as he switched between licking and sucking my clit.

I couldn’t help but moan, i was feeling great. My thighs pressed against his bare and warm shoulders, my calf being nudged by his elbow each time he pumped his fingers. My head felt dizzy, my body warm, and my abdominal muscles tight. I was gonna cum already, last bar hookup was 4 months ago and I’ve barely used my vibrator. There was no doubt I was gonna be the quick one tonight. My hips started bucking up, so his free arm pressed down on hips, holding me a bit more still and controlled. He changed his fingers angle snd pressure, curling them in a “come” motion.

“Just like that!” My voice was a higher pitch now, and within a few second, pathetically, k was seeing stars behind closed lids. My nail scratching against his scalp, trying to hold onto him for dear life, my other hand taking hold of the top edge of the couch.

He kept his pace and speed for bit after my orgasm, trying to push me to a cliff. Which he did Successfully, could probably tell my how I was I moaning his name, how wet his chin was, and how wet I was getting, and used it to know when the right time was to stop.

“Wow.” He breathed out as he sat up, adjusting to sit down properly,”now I understand why you eat pineapple everyday.”

I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, my legs were shaking, and I was catching my breath. I felt his weight leave the couch and heard the shaking metal of his belt, so I opened my eyes. I met his gaze which was staring at me and then they went down to where his hands were. Unzipping his pants, about to reveal the dick I’ve wanted to ride for a few years. I sat up, feeling how wet the bottom of my ass was against the leather. Now I understand why the couch is leather.

I pushed his hands away and hooked my fingers into the band in his boxers and started pulling them down, taking hold of his hard cock when it sprung out. He grabbed hold in his is pants from coming down any further then he wanted m, and he simply shook his head grabbing his cane. I respectfully brushed it off, my hand left his boxers band and traveled up his side sitting on his hip. He was bigger then I would’ve guessed, but it made sense.

I let go of his cock and spit onto my hand, taking hold of his and twisting my fist up and down, when I licked his tip. I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was rested back, obviously an expression of pleasure was plastered on his face, his breathing deep. so I let my eyes fall as I look him into my mouth, not wasting time to flatten my tongue, pumping the base of his cock. I felt his hand snake into my hair, grabbing some in his fist. He wasn’t using it to control me, though it wasn’t hard to tell by his tightening grip he wanted to. I would’ve let him, I kinda planned on letting him, but he only kept me down there for a few more moments before pulling me off.

“What are you on?” He asked the moment his cock left my mouth.

“IUD.” I answered catching the breath I needed. He didn’t respond,”it’s fine, as long as the last prostitute you fucked was clean.”

“Made sure.” He assured me as he sat down, letting his cane rest against the couch again. I stood up to get a better placement over his cock. His hands sat on my hips, his lips finding my breast again. I reach around and grabbed his cock, sliding it through my folds before holding it to my core.

I lowered down on it, moaning out at the initial stretch, and he groaned. His head falling back onto the head of the couch as he took a long inhale through his nose and sighed it out, a whispered “fuck” followed suit. Lowered down more, grabbing onto his shoulders, and biting down on my lower lip to stop a moan that would wake the neighbors from coming out. I lowered down completely onto him, taking a bit more then half of him in one go. I curled forward, moaning onto his neck as his finger tips pressed into my skin.

“When was-“

“Four months ago, shut up.” I mean pushed off of him and met his face, a disconcerted look on his face.

“I’m honored.” His tone was cocky and paired with a smirk. He raised hips and lowered me back down, that fuzzy brain feeling was coming back when he did it again, and again. Each time higher to where his tip was only left, snd lowering me down harder.

“Oh fuck Greg!” My nails pressed into his skin, I caught on with his movement, moving my hips with his guidance. He didn’t like slow I could tell, medium pace was where he liked to start at. Slowly getting faster, snd harder.

My brain drowned out into the sounds of our breathing, my moans, and the loudening groans that came from him. I could feel how wet the inside of my thighs were getting. My hips on auto pilot, riding him quickly. His tip bumping snd rubbing into my gspot.

My nails finally dug into his shoulder when his thumb met my clit and my walls tightened around him. Rubbing Harsh circles against the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You look fucking perfect.” I couldn’t open my eyes, too overwhelmed with my nerves feeling like they’re on fire, my heart pulsing in my throat and clit,”and so-goddamn (y/n), squeeze me any tighter and I’m not gonna have a dick.”

“Dram-ah- queen.” I said through my shakey , near breathless voice. I didn’t wanna cum, not yet. It was all Too damn good to not savor it.

So I grabbed onto the back of the couch and started really riding him. Rocking and swiveling my hips into his when I came down, keeping my speed and pace constant, at least trying.

“Oh fuuck me (y/n).” His thumb started rubbing faster, ripping a broken moan from my throat. My chest pushed into his, his fingertips pressing further into my waist, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“I’m gonna cum.” I speedily warned him.

“Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

“Greg-“

“Just wait.” His tone was firm but tinted with a bit of fake annoyance at my greediness.

“Jus’ want you to fill me up, come on.” My breathing was deep as I spoke but sped up when I stopped. My hairline was damp snd so was the back of my knees.

He bucked his hips up into mine, sounds leaning his throat at their own will, so caught up in his own pleasure he couldn’t even care.

Those few minutes felt like torture, my orgasm on the brink of snapping while his thumb is still abusing my clit. The corners of my lips curled when I felt his cock start twitching inside of me, getting more obvious by the second.

“Now.” He spit out,”gonna full up this greedy pussy.”

It snapped, my orgasm ripped through me, my walls spasmed around him which triggered his orgasm. I pushed my body into his, feeling his warm skin radiating against mine. I could feel him shooting into me, mixing with my own orgasm and spilling down my thighs and onto him.

I rode him till I couldn’t anymore, I finally gave out. His cock buried inside me as I laid against him, his hands holding onto my ass as we caught our breath. Soon after he lifted my hips off of him, his cock sliding out of me and I moved to sit on the leather next to him. Holding one of my knees to my body, my head falling back.

“If I knew your dick was that big I woukd be jumped you years ago.” I let out a breathy chuckled snd he hummed.

“I regret not grabbing your Tits earlier, should’ve acted on my impulse.” He said standing up, putting his boxers and pants back on,”so anti-VEGF treatment tomorrow?” He asked grabbing his cane and leaning against it as he looked down at me.

“Let me check her out first and I’ll confirm.” I answered and looked back up at the ceiling. I heard him walk away so I lifted my head and watched him,”where are you going?”

“To clean up and go to sleep, you coming?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“Not again tonight, no.” I replied and he blinked at me a few times, a smile keept to his lips.

“Ha-ha!” He sarcastically laughed before going back to his original expression and limping away. I can’t really be mad, I kinda solved his case and got fucked, but now it’s 3:40, and I have work at six still.

[daisyblog]

Surprise

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry see their baby for the first time and tell their closest family the news.

It had been a busy week for YN and Harry. They had travelled home at the beginning of the week from Manchester, where they had spent two evenings with Anne. 

They had arranged an appointment with a midwife, as they were still none the wiser of how many weeks pregnant YN was. YN’s symptoms had calmed this week, she felt like her energy levels were slowly increasing, she no longer felt nauseous or had headaches. 

It was Tuesday morning, and they had scheduled their midwife appointment for late morning. YN was a tad nervous, she wasn’t sure what to expect from this appointment but she prayed for a healthy baby. 

Since they found out about the little one, Harry’s hand always found it's way to rest on YN’s tummy. When they were lying in bed in the night, his hand would be on her tummy as her back cuddled into his chest. Or when they were cuddled up on the sofa in the evenings, he couldn’t help but hold where their baby was. 

So when Harry cuddled her from behind, as she stirred their cups of tea, YN wasn’t surprised when his hand landed on her tummy. 

“Morning.” Harry left a peck on YN’s neck as he cuddled her.

“G’morning baby.” YN continued to stir the milk into the mugs that sat on the counter. 

“How are my favourite people this morning?” YN’s heart warmed at his words, a smile appearing on her face, as his hand gently stroked at the skin on her tummy.

YN turned in his arms. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a little person, who’s half of me and half of you.”.

“I hope they have your blue eyes.” Harry had always loved her blues, the first thing he noticed all those years ago. 

“I hope they have your kindness.” Harry didn’t reply, he simply pressed his lips to YN’s.

---

They had found themselves in the waiting room of the hospital. The room was white, and very clinical, the walls were covered in posters aimed at expecting parents. 

YN was picking at the skin around her fingers, anxiety surrounding her as she waited for her name to be called. Harry noticed when she had responded as he spoke, so he slipped his fingers between hers knowing that would help her to calm a little. 

“YN Tomlinson!” A woman, around the same age as YN and Harry called. Which made Harry a little worried that she may recognise them. 

They both followed the midwife down the corridor and into a small side room. After they all took a seat, the midwife who they had now learnt her name was Cara. 

After Cara had asked YN a few personal details about her date of birth, how she was feeling and her medical history, Cara began to look through the file that was on the table in front of them. 

“Okay…so from what I can see here in your notes, you’re not really sure how far along you are…is that right?” Cara asked YN with a friendly smile. 

“Uh yeah…my periods have been a bit irregular lately because we’ve been travelling, so some months I’ve had one and others I haven’t.” YN explained, as she glanced to her side where Harry was sitting. 

Cara nodded at the new information and wrote something in the file. “That’s understandable, so what we’ll do today is send you for a scan and then we can measure how far along you are.”.

YN was instructed to sit back in the waiting room and drink water before her scan, so her bladder would be full for them to perform the scan. 

Harry and YN were talking about how nervous but excited they were that they would hopefully see their little one for the first time today, depending on how many weeks YN is. 

The couple waited an hour until they were called into another room, where a sonographer introduced herself and explained what would happen during the scan. 

As instructed, YN laid down on the bed and pulled her jumper up and wiggled her leggings down a tad, so her tummy was exposed. Harry was sat on the edge of the seat next to her, trying to hide the anxious nerves that he felt right now. 

“This is going to be cold.” Georgia, the sonographer, explained as she squirted the gel onto YN’s tummy. Causing YN to flinch at the sensation. “Sorry darling.”. 

The room was silent as Georgia rubbed the gel over YN’s tummy with the probe. Harry watched carefully but he could see YN take a deep breath to calm herself, so gently he held her hand, that laid beside her on the bed, and rubbed circles with his thumb to let her know that everything was going to be okay and he was right by her side. 

“Ohh!”. Georgia broke the silence of the room. 

“Is everything alright?” YN panicked, causing Harry to sit up straighter in the chair. 

The sonographer smiled as her eyes still focused on the screen in front of her, and her hand continued to move the probe around. “Everything is almost perfect, I was just surprised to see a baby and not a small blob.”.

“What does that mean?” Harry was quick to ask, not understanding what was happening. 

“It means that you’re a lot further along than you may think.” Georgia spoke to both YN and Harry. “You’re actually fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fourteen weeks!” YN was in disbelief. “ Are you sure?.”

Georgia turned the screen, to face them. “Very sure” she laughed. “Here’s your baby’s head, tummy, arms and legs.”.

And there in front of them was their little baby, arms and legs wiggling around. How could they love someone so much that they hadn’t met? 

YN squeezed Harry’s hand that still held hers, as the tears were running down her face. But as she looked to her side, she could see that Harry was wiping away his own. 

“M’sorry…it’s..it’s just made me all emotional.”. Harry apologised, as he used his hand to wipe away a tear.

“You don’t need to be sorry…that’s our baby, it’s going to be emotional.” YN reassured him that it was okay to cry. 

Georgia interrupted the moment. “The partners usually cry more than the Mums…it’s a natural reaction.”.

After a few more checks, YN and Harry were able to leave the hospital with multiple different scan photos, ready to share with all their family. 

---

As soon as Harry and YN arrived home, they broke the news to Teddy. But Teddy lifted his head from where he was cuddled up, to the sound of their excited voices to only pop his head back down and proceed with his doggy nap, 

Deciding to tell someone who would be more than interested in their news, Harry FaceTimed him Mum. 

“Hello my darlings!” Anne spoke as her face popped up on the screen.

“Hi Mum.”

“How are my favourite people?” Anne asked, eager to know how their appointment went. 

“Do you want to see your grandbaby?” Harry asked, knowing how excited he and YN was to share their news. 

“Of course…could you see a lot then?” 

YN held the scan photo up to the camera and Anne’s reaction was just how they imagined. 

“OHH…wait that’s an actual baby.” YN and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I was expecting like a little dot or something.”.

“We thought the same Mum.” Harry agreed. “YN’s actually fourteen weeks and-“.

“FOURTEEN WEEKS!”. Anne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Sorry..I’m just in shock!”.

---

Next was Louis. Louis managed to find a quiet room in the arena to FaceTime YN, as he was playing a show in Brighton that evening. 

“‘Ello love.” Louis spoke as YN accepted the call. 

“Hi Lou!” YN greeted her brother. “I’m sad that we’re not coming tonight.” YN’s grandparents and Daisy were heading to the show this evening, and she was a little jealous.

“I know…but you’re coming on Friday.”. Louis was so excited to be playing the O2 on Friday evening. “So let’s see my niece or nephew then.”.

YN held the scan photo up for Louis to see. “I’m fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fookin’ ‘ell…I wasn’t expecting you to be that far along…I thought you were going to five or six weeks.”.

“I know…we were so shocked…I still can’t process it.” YN admitted.

“Hang on…the Away From Home Festival was fourteen weeks ago.” Louis thought out loud. 

“Yeah…okay I’ve got to go…love you bye.” YN couldn’t end the FaceTime quick enough at the idea of her brother working out when they had conceived their baby.

---

A pregnant Gemma came around to their house on Thursday morning, as she hadn’t seen them properly for a while as she was trying her hardest to hide her own pregnancy. YN had just made them all a cup of tea, and Harry and YN had left their scan photos out on purpose to see if Gemma would notice.

They all chatted about what they had missed in each others lives over the last few weeks, until Gemma noticed the ultrasound on the side table in the living area. 

“Is this Phoebe’s?” Gemma asked, knowing that YN’s sister was expecting. 

“No…it’s mine.” YN casually said as she took a sip from her mug. 

Gemma’s eyes found Harry’s, almost looking for confirmation. When Harry smiled, Gemma screamed with excitement. “I’m gonna be an auntie…our babies are gonna be besties!”. After she had calmed down, Gemma hugged YN and congratulated her. “Thank you so much…I’m so excited.”.

Harry sarcastically coughed when he heard Gemma’s words. “What about me?”.

“You’re not growing a baby…you had the easy job.” Gemma playfully dismissed her brother. 

---

YN and Harry were planning on telling YN’s grandparents and siblings the news on Friday, before Louis show as they were all going to Lottie’s house for breakfast. But two special little people wouldn’t be there, so they had to settle for FaceTime.

“Hello my babies.” YN greeted her youngest siblings as they both appeared on the screen. 

“Harry!” Ernest got excited to see Harry was  FaceTiming with his sister too. 

“Hey little dude.” 

After Doris and Ernest had told them both about their days in school and what they had planned for the weekend, YN slowly started to tell them their news. 

“We’ve  got a question to ask you both.” YN managed to keep their attention. “You know how you’re an auntie and uncle to Lucky and soon Phoebe’s baby?”. When they both nodded, YN continued. “How do you feel about being an auntie and uncle again…but to mine and Harry’s baby?”.

It took a moment for the news to sink in. “You’re having a baby?” Doris was the first to speak. 

“Yes…I’ve got a baby in my tummy.” YN showed them both the photo.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ernest asked, obviously excited to know if there was another boy or girl coming into the family. 

“We’re don’t know yet.” Harry explained.

“Are you both excited?” YN asked. 

“Yes…I can’t wait.”

---

On Friday morning, Lottie and Lewis had invited everyone for breakfast at their house, ahead of Louis show. Louis couldn’t make it due to having to be at the venue. 

After the group had eaten their breakfast and were lounging in the living room. YN had discreetly given Lucky a copy of her ultrasound. 

Lucky toddled around and kept a tight hold of the photo. “What have you got Lucky?”. Lottie was quick to notice that Lucky had picked something up. “Aw Pheebs is this-“. But as she looked at it, she could see that it had YN’s name on it. “Are you?”.

YN nodded with a smile, from her place where she stood in front of Harry as he had an arm wrapped around her. 

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked, as she looked between her two sisters, which caught everyone’s attention.

“YN’s pregnant!” Lottie announced, as she tried to let the words sink in herself.

All eyes were now on YN and Harry. “Surprise!”.

“I knew it” Jen stood from her seat, as she went to give the couple a cuddle. “I said last week there was something different about you…congratulations my loves.”.

Lottie was still screaming with excitement. “I’m going to be an auntie again!”. She was absolutely thrilled that another baby was joining the family. 

Phoebe hugged YN as best as she could with her bump being in the way, but as their tummy’s were toughing “Meet your new little bestie.”. YN couldn’t describe the feeling of sharing a pregnancy with her sister. 

“Well I guess that leaves me to be the only Tomlinson to use contraception.” Daisy joked, knowing that everyone would find her joke funny. 

And before Harry and YN knew it, they were surrounded by love, hugs and congratulations. It was in that moment they realised how much love their baby had already. 

Tag List: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream

[writingoddess1125]

Blip on the Radar pt. 1

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader + OOC Erik

Part 2 ->

Would appreciate a donation to my Ko-Fi so I can survive in this economy! Enjoy!

"Alright big guy bed time" You say as you swoop down and pick up your toddler, feeling him already tired from the day.

"No No Mama" Erik chimed. His mess of blonde hair covering his sleepy blue eyes which was trying to resist sleep

"Yes Yes Bean" You say with a giggle carrying him to his room and lay him down giving him his favorite stuffed bear you watch as he falls asleep in seconds.

Smiling as you watch his sleeping face and gently caress his cheek- despite the times that had passed you couldn't help but be amused by how much Erik didn't look like you, if it hadn't been for the 30hrs of labor you went through and seeing that headful of blonde hair when he was first born you would have been sure the hospital had switched your child.

He was a stocky and tall toddler, for being 2 years old he could easily be mistaken as a 3 year old- especially since he had big hands. He reminded you up a pitbull puppy, were you could see he was going to be a big boy.

Most likely like his father, which you assumed he was a carbon copy of.

It had been a bar hookup 3 years ago on a trip abroad, nothing special or unique in truth- You didn't even remember the guys name, you just remever his bright blue eyes, some blonde hair and a deep English accent. However that was about it- Besides you had your face in the pillows too much to know anyway, the next morning he had already been gone and you were content with that.

However seemed the universe decided to just screw you over as a few months later you found out you were pregnant. Not an ideal way to become a mother However you were one non the less.

Walking out of the room silently you began to pick up around the house, all Erik's toys and snacks he had dropped throughout the day but that was short lived as the couch called to you. Finally taking a seat you turn on some late night YV and sigh heavily- that exhaustion going through you as you laid there trying to will yourself to do more.

Going through your phone you see that you got a notification from Ancestory, raising a brow as you opened it and saw the results for your son upload.

"Oh yeah.. forgot about that"

A few weeks previously you'd done a DNA test on your son, mainly for medical history and to gather some basic information. As it populated you were met with pages of blacked our marker, Literally almost nothing was visible and you could see the British royal forces logo in the corner of most things but everything was crossed out.

"Why is so much of this crossed out?.." You muttered, squinting at the print on your phone over why so much information was limited from your sons father's side- You couldn't see much accept for last names and some general years.

"Weird.. Like a ghost... did I fuck a spy?-" You mutter, shrugging at this and close of your phone. Fairly sure you'd spooked yourself or that the Ancestory was wrong in some way. Waste of 90$-

0500 hr Other side of globe

It was far too early for this- Ms. Elis marched down the corridors of the Barracks with a file in her hand- her face no better then a thunderstorm as she marched.

Ghost could hear her from down the barracks hall from how loudly she was stomping around- he understood she was the TF 141 lawyer but she was a royal pain in the ass as well- he was seated on a couch of this temporary barracks common room and reading, dressed in more casual military attire and a plain balaclava covering his face.

"Price!" She called out once seeing him I'm his office and slamming the door behind her, Ghost looking up to see that banshee of a lawyer looking ready to snap again- sighing heavily as he tried to go back to reading.

"What do you think it's this time?" Soap said as he plopped himself next to the reading man with a relaxed sigh- Simon rolling his eyes at the Scotsman.

"Nothing that I'm willing to think about-" He grumbled, but his ear was picking up her yelling at Price dramtically- Once again. Banshee. That and one that had a flare for the dramatics.

After 10 minutes of this, The banshee of a lawyer stepped out of the office and turned to look right at Ghost-

"Mr. Riley, can you step into the office with us" She asked, a fake sweetness to her voice but he could hear the strain of frustration.

Fucking Hell...

Soap gave a crooked smile at the Lieutenant like a child pleased to see his peer being called in by the principal. Ghost silently stepped in and nodded at his Captian who gestured for him to take a seat.

Taking a seat he could see Price was on the brink of either snapping at the lawyer or getting a glass of scotch to dull whatever was happening.

"Sir" Ghost greeted Price but was giving a awkward nod- Clearly this not being something good.

"Well I never thought this would be a conversation I'd have but- Were you intimate with anyone in (insert location) around 3 years ago?" Price ask as calmly as possible- Clearly the lawyer keeping him from speaking in honest remark. Ghost felt a chill up his spin and his eyes narrowed.

"...What is this about Captian-" He asked sharply, Price grabbing two cigars and handing one to Ghost and keeping one himself.

"Well to be honest.. in short it looks like you have a kid Simon.. a little boy to be exact" Price said truthfully as the lawyer held the file out for Ghost. His eyes widened at hearing this, Looking slowly up at the lawyer as she handed him the file- Setting down the cigar quickly he opened it and saw the photos pulled from your Instagram as well as the ancestory website pages that did connect the toddler to him.

"It seems she was trying to get medical information through ancestory and we saw that your guys DNA connects. With the timing of the last time you were in that city it matches with the child's age" Ms. Elis said calmly as Ghost continued to look through the photos and information about you and his child.

"Simon?" Price said as he saw the man seemingly in a daze, staring at the folder. However Price could tell his mind was in a different place-

The lawyer was trying to go through options that Simon could take, paying child support, visitation, renouncing parental rights- However he was too dazed to even process any of this. Instead just sitting there thinking that he had a kid out there with this random stranger, were they a good mom? Did they love the kid? What if they were in a abusive home like he had been? Oh he couldn't let that happened.. it was be a nice snowy day in hell before he did. But also fear that his background would come to haunt him- How if he was in the kids life he could risk being a bad influence to the child as well.

Standing up suddently Simon held the folder looking to Price then the Laywer.

"What city are they located at Sir?-"

[nixie-writes]

Hey! I’ve spent like an hour religiously reading your works! Could I get a Husk x fem! Cat demon! Reader who was his medic when he fought in the war, and they fell in love only for him to die- and he recognizes her after he catches her humming a song she used to sing to him? Like a heartfelt reunion? It’s super cheesy and long! Feel free to ignore!

☕️-anon

I feel so honored uwu I've had this blog running for over a year and a half so some of my work is trash but I'm glad you like it! This turned into more of a fanfic with plot points than headcanons but enjoy lol

-”da-da-da-da, mm-mm,” you hummed to yourself in the infirmary, all alone. You were waiting to treat the injured from the current war going on and were demanded to stay in your quarters. You couldn’t find anything to entertain yourself with so you decided to hum that little tune you and your boyfriend, who only went by Husk, loved to hear. 

-you were snooping through a filing cabinet, reading classified documents as you usually did, when a soldier no older than 19 burst into your office, sweating, eyes bulged. Before you could ask what was wrong two other soldiers dragged in none other than Husk who, despite bleeding heavily and leaning on one side, demanded to walk. You didn't bother closing the cabinet before rushing to see him.

-laying him down on a gurney you inspected Husk. He had a bullet wound that pierced through his liver. The liver wasn't elastic enough to handle a bullet wound. Judging by how bloodied up Husk was you guessed his liver had practically exploded from the impact.

-you began stuffing the wound with whatever gauze you could find, trying to staunch the bleeding. In the back of your head you knew it was futile but you knew you'd never be able to live with yourself if you hadn't at least tried.

-as you were rolling up another bundle of gauze to push into the wound Husk grabbed you by your arm gently, weakly. He gave you the softest, sweetest of smiles and told you bluntly, "you're too late". You were hyperventilating at this point, tears falling down your face, fighting to see clearly so you could continue to stuff the wound. You turned to face the three soldiers behind you. "The fuck are you doing standing around like a bunch of twats, do something!" But none of them moved, only grabbing their hats and placing said hats over their hearts. You turned around to continue your process and you were met with glassy eyes staring at nothing, blood still oozing lazily from his gunshot wound.

-it was after Husk's death that you left the army. You couldn't bear to watch another person die because of your incompetence. Similar to Husk who could beat anyone in a drinking contest, you became an alcoholic, trying to drink down the pain. You died at a shockingly young age due to liver failure from all your drinking.

-when you died you arrived in Hell, a pink cat demon complete with a collar. You thought it was silly but went with it. You spent about a year walking the streets, humming that little tune Husk loved so much. There's no way such a perfect being could have ended up down here but you held hope.

-late one night you were walking home from the store, humming as usual. The older demons and Hellborns came to recognize you for humming the same song. You never told them why, you just said you liked it.

-during your walk home you saw a familiar face clad in red - one of the Overlords, trying to score a deal with some poor sap. It wasn't your business and you didn't want it to be your business so you continued on, humming as per usual.

-this caught the attention of the cat demon next to the Overlord, Alastor, who ran to you. He almost crashed into you, making you drop some bananas in the process. He helped you pick everything up, and you asked him what he wanted with you.

-"that song, I've heard it before. Where did you learn it?" His eyes were round and pleading. You shrugged casually. "It's...just a song my boyfriend liked me to sing before he died." You replied. You'd never told a soul about that before. His breathing hitched. "Was he in a war?" he asked a little too hopefully. Awkwardly you nodded. Before you could ask how he knew, Alastor called out, "we're leaving Husker!" You blinked in surprise. Husker...? Husk?

-"I know it sounds crazy and it sure fucking is but, I think I'm your boyfriend who died," Husk explained quickly. You quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's one thing only my boyfriend would know?" You inquired with a crass smirk. "Uh let's see...you never liked apple pie because when your dad baked it it always came out sour, and you sometimes stole your dad's cigarettes," he replied. Holy shit, no one else knew that. "Is it really you, [Y/N]?" he inquired hopefully. You nodded your head slowly.

"It's nice to finally meet you again."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, dry humping, violence, threats, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Pete doesn’t get up. You look between him and the archway of the kitchen. You move cautiously into the entryway and near the door. You flip the latch back and open it to the two officers on the other side. 

“Uh, hello,” you greet dumbly.

“We got a call from this unit about an intruder,” the taller one says.

“Yes, yes, he’s in my kitchen,” you sigh, “please, you have to make him leave–”

“Ma’am, does he have a weapon?” The officer asks.

“I…” your eyes round, “I don’t think so. But there’s knives in there.”

“Please, step back, ma’am,” the second officer orders curtly.

You do as they say. Thank god. They’re going to drag that maniac out of here in cuffs. You point through the archway and fade into the plaster. They enter and go into the kitchen.

“Sir,” the first officer greets, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you hear a clink as Pete answers casually.

You cross the hall and peek into the kitchen. He stands at the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the still brewing carafe. Alright, you can see how this appears less than insidious.

“I’m Officer Bodecker, this is Officer Rogers,” the first cop introduces himself, “we got a call about a break-in. Is it alright if we look around?”

“Sure,” Pete shrugs, “as long as I get my coffee. You want some?”

“No, wait, it’s him,” you race forward and throw your hand out, pointing accusingly, “he broke in last night.”

“I’m so sorry, officers,” Pete turns and grips the knot at the top of the towel, “I haven’t had a chance to get dressed. My girlfriend has an appointment today,” he points to the fridge calendar, “she’s on a lot of meds and she gets like this. You can check the cupboard.”

“N-no, no, I’m not lying. This guy, I don’t know him–”

“Really, I’m so embarrassed,” Pete talks over you, “I was in the shower when she called. It’s been rough. She’s under a lot of stress. And her treatments are so expensive–”

“Shut up!” You cry out, “please, please, don’t listen to him.” You step between the officers and turn on them, “can you please just get him out?”

“Christ,” the pudgier officer, Bodecker rolls his eyes and looks at the other. They exchange a scoff and shake their heads, “look, ma’am, a false report is not something we take lightly.”

“Another fine,” Pete mutters, “I’ll have to pick up some hours again–”

“Well, we can leave it be just this one time,” Rogers offers, “considering… we’re not entirely heartless, you know?”

“I swear, this isn’t–”

Pete startles you as he steps up and puts his arm over your shoulders, “shush, honey, it’s okay. Just calm down.”

You tremble as your head spins. How do they believe him? They need to listen to you. This is your apartment. He doesn’t belong here.

“No, n–”

“Look, it’s so nice of you to let it go,” Pete continues, “I’m really sorry you came all the way out here. This is so embarrassing. I’ll take care of her. She won’t bother you again.”

“Make sure of it,” Bodecker tuts.

“Please, officers,” your voice cracks.

“Let’s go, we’re just upsetting her,” Rogers grumbles, “ma’am, I hope you feel better.”

The officers turn and you go to follow them. Pete grabs the back of your neck and pinches, keeping you in place. You hiss and he shushes you as the police file out the front door. As the door shuts, he turns his head and leans in.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” He growls.

“Ow, let go– get off of me! Get out of my apartment! Get out of my life–” You twist away and try to shove him off. He keeps his hand on you, his other coming up to your throat as he backs you against the counter.

“I’m going to have to teach you a real lesson. Last night… that was nothing. You’ve really done it now,” he pushes until you bend backwards. He grabs the coffee pot off the machine and holds it close to your cheek so you can feel the heat, “you think anyone will want you with that pretty face all marked up?”

“Stop,” you beg, grasping at his wrist.

“We coulda been nice, sweetheart. I was being real fucking nice. I’m just trying to take care of you,” he moves the pot and tips it over your chest. It splashes onto your skin and scalds down beneath your shirt. “You need to stop being so goddamn careless.”

He flips it straight and slams it back down. You whine and whimper as your nails drag down his arm. He lets you go and you fold onto the floor. He grabs his cup of coffee and stomps back to the table.

“Too bad you won’t make it to your appointment, sweetheart.”

“Please, I can’t–”

“Shoulda thought of that first,” he sits and slurps his coffee loudly, “I wanna take care of you, but you gotta let me.”

[shycoffeeland]

'MY GIRL' - SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X F!141!READER [002]

[Part One]

Content tags: mentions of torture and specific injury, brief allusion to SA. Petnames are love, my girl. Simon takes care of you while you recover from your injuries, and price outlines your medical leave.

The room you'd woken up in was very bright, too bright for how groggy you were. The strangely clinical scent indicative of a hospital setting still sept through for a makeshift ward on a military base.

In through the dirty windows shone the bright desert sun, beckoning you into its warmth. The faint sounds of birdsong bled into your subconscious, gently coaxing you from your the depths of your rest.

Opening your eyes fully was a challenge; but a soldier of your caliber had done far worse. The ward was decently put together, curtain dividers between the beds, everything cleaned as best it could be, with multiple metal trolleys full of medical equipment. As you came to, the first things you felt were your hands. An IV line through one, the small puncture and bruise familiar to you, and a soft pressure on the other one. A hand. Looking around your bedside, you saw to your right, a high table, with a small plastic cup of water. To your left, in a metal chair not too dissimilar to the one you'd been held in, sat Simon. Your Simon.

He wasn't looking at you, or even in your direction. He was reading something, a collection of papers held together with a staple in the corner. It could've been an incident report, you couldn't read it properly. He had a hand resting on yours, a small show of affection, a sign of allegiance. He wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. His mask was in his lap, and you could see the distinct lines of scarring on the side of his cheek. He moved the hand away from yours, reaching down to the floor and picking up a file that was thick with documents.

You coughed, not entirely sure if it had been involuntary or a momentary plea to get Simon's attention. Either way, he turned around. His face softened once he saw you, those wonderful brown eyes holding more emotion alone than you'd ever see in his whole face. The suprise only lasted for a moment, and was replaced with a look of longing, of protection. He stood up from his seat, going over to the table at your side. "Have some water, I'll help you up."

He gently held you, his tattooed arm around your back as he used the other to move the rocky pillows to better prop you up. He set you down slowly, knowing to be gentle where the wire had dug into your back and chest. The high metal frame of the medical cot was less than comfortable against your head, but the payoff of being able to finally have a drink of water without it spilling all over your face, was too good.

"Thank you," your voice was still scratchy, "I forgot how nice water could be."

He didn't say anything in response, but made a face that was similar to 'it's nothing.'

"Are you okay?" You asked as you looked at him, noticing the pain behind his eyes.

"I'm the least of your worries right now, Love." He took the chair, and moved it to your right side so he was facing you. It was easier to look to your right than your left, as the forceful grabs of your neck and chin to get your attention had left bad bruising around your neck and face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." You huffed out an attempt at a laugh, only resulting in another cough. "Feels like I got held captive."

He rolled his eyes with a small, almost unnoticeable smile. "Yeah you would do, given that's what happened."

"Did you-" you started, unsure of how to finish what you needed to say.

"We took out 11 of the 13 that were in the building. One got taken in successfully, the other one stole a gun and shot himself in transit." He couldn't make eye contact with you, talking about the people who tortured you. It felt like he failed you, for it to have even happened in the first place. "He's being held on base but apparently he won't budge. Only said two words to the captain since they took him."

"Which were?" You asked, intrigued.

"Get fucked." He answered, "It won't be long until he talks though." He said, looking at the floor. He knew you wanted to know what happened, between the drugging and falling unconscious, you only had fleeting glimpses of what transpired, memories you'd pay a handsome sum to get rid of. "You in pain?" He asked, looking at you with his elbows on his knees, his gloved hands hovering together.

"A bit. Still kinda groggy more than anything." You replied, watching his quiet concern at the husk in your voice. "Si, I'm fine."

"You're not, you don't have to pretend you are." He stood up, looking through one of the medical trolleys for a painkiller. "We can't get you the good stuff without a medic on board. You good with these?" He pulled out a small cardboard box of blister packs. They'd be weak as shit but it'd keep you going for a bit longer. It was more of a statement than a question. Simon was going to do everything he could for you. It broke his heart seeing you in such a bad way. You were off-colour from the medication, and the lacerations and bruising up and down your body he'd seen when you were being treated initially almost made him throw up with the memories it invoked.

"Thanks." You took the painkillers, eagerly awaiting their effectiveness as each waking moment drew the fog further away and brought the sensations back to your body. "You been alright while I've been out?"

He almost snorted as he wrote down a new entry on your medication papers.

"Almost got a smile off you." You smiled at him, looking at the scars around his mouth. "I know you've been fine."

"I wouldn't say fine. Been in here most of my free time, looking after my girl." He looked at you, kindness in his eyes. "Been hard to focus knowing you're in here."

You melted at the fond term. His girl.

"Not that you really needed looking after though," He tipped back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest. "You're tough as nails. You're used to this shit."

"Nobody gets used to being tortured though." You winced at the feeling of your heavily injured lower legs dragging against the bed as you moved to sit up further. The scabs had started to form, and god were they itching. They'd put your right leg in a splint, as well as 3 of the fingers on your left hand. Instead of ripping out nails, they broke fingers. Instead of gouging your eyes, they burnt, cut and broke your legs. Your back and chest ached something fierce, and there was a strange feeling in your insides. Your throat felt raw and bruised, you knew why, and it broke you.

"That's for sure." Simon sighed, almost feeling his ribs shift as he moved. "I'm sorry this happened, love."

"I'll be alright." You said matter-of-factly, there was no point throwing your toys out of the pram over something that was in the past. All you could do now, was get better and move along. "I didn't get into this team if I couldn't take a beating."

"L/N." You heard a voice call for you as the door to the ward opened.

Captain Price approached your bed, nodding in acknowledgement to ghost at your bedside. "He been taking care of you, has he? Must've been really playing doctor to forget the strict orders to inform me should you have woken up."

"Sorry sir."

"L/N... Good to see you awake. Been waiting with baited breath to see how you were." The captain stood infront of your bed with his arms crossed over his tac vest. You could smell the remnants of a recent smoke on him.

"All good here, Captain." You spoke to him in the usual respectful manner. Not too much to be an asslicker, not so little that it would seem insubordinate. "When am I out of here?"

"Nice enthusiasm, Y/N, however," He saved first-name-basis for his most valued soldiers. You were no exception. "Pending a doctor's review, you'll be on a flight home by tomorrow morning for medical leave."

"Sir, please," your heart sank. After all of this; you had to go home alone. Home to your shitty one bedroom in the middle of a grey town, and leave Simon. Leave him in the middle of nowhere. You wanted him. You needed his company, "I'm fine really, I can stay here and fight-"

"No you bloody well can't." Price's tone grew stern, like a father telling off his teenager for sneaking out. "You'll listen to your superiors, and take your medical leave."

"Yes sir." You conceded.

"If you go to physio, as well as therapy, see your doctors and look after yourself, you'll be back in seven months." Price said, gentler than before. "It's not long. Might even be sooner. You can't be on active duty in a condition like that, much less on 141."

"Understood, Captain." Your voice was almost blank as you settled into the idea of seven months off. Seven months would feel like a lifetime.

"I'll look forward to having you back, F/N L/N. Recover well, soldier." Price handed you the papers that arranged and outlined your leave, along with a pen. "You know where to sign. Leave it here. The doctors will pick it up and file it properly."

You hadn't even realised that the captain had left you both, when Simon leaned over and planted a small kiss to your forehead. "I'll file for leave. I never use mine anyway. I'll be a few weeks behind you, and I'll only really get a week off, but it will work."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't know what else I'd end up doing. I want to be with you. Make sure my girl's okay. Do your shopping and make you food. Take you to a few appointments, that kind of thing." Simon sighed as he looked at you. "We can talk about it properly when you're ready, love."

"I love you." You mumbled.

"You'll be okay." Simon Riley's awkward and afraid version of 'I love you too.'

[cowgurrrl]

Some way some how Joel and reader in lftl are able to take each other back to their homes from before. For closure and memories. They both are just two people who miss their babies. And now they get pictures and cards from their homes. Another little piece of Sarah and Jane to go back to jackson.

Hello do you have access to my wips I was literally working on this!! I wrote this more about reader going back to their last apartment because @hier--soir has an amazing fic about Joel going back to Texas and it's absolutely gorgeous <3 anyways, I hope you enjoy!! this made me CRYYYY

Never Grew Up With You

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Jesus Christ I haven't cried at a fic like this in a LONG time I'm genuinely exhausted

Summary: "To never see her face again is what grief is." — Euripides, translated by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides aka this ask [1.5k]

Warnings: talks of Jane, memories, oh it's so sad

It's eerie being back in that town. It's empty, but the remnants of Outbreak Day linger in the streets— decomposed bodies, crashed cars, craters where the bombs hit. You recognize bits and pieces. The downtown area which used light up with Christmas lights and smell like funnel cake during the winter months. The church where you lied on the application form so Jane could get into daycare. Your apartment building. You stop in front of it, Joel at your side, and look up at it. 

It looks smaller than you remember it like maybe you romanticized the shithole after so many years of living in a worse shithole. Only a few windows still have glass, and you catch faded curtains flapping in the abandoned apartments. "Mommy, look!" Jane had yelled that day so you could catch the jets flying over the building. You were standing in the same area you are now. Your heart clenches, and Joel seems to feel it at the same time.

"Are you sure bout this?" He asks, and you nod. "I'll be right here with you the whole time. We can leave whenever you want." You don't answer him. You just take a deep breath and start walking toward the stairs—bullet holes and rusty, dried blood line the path up to your third-floor apartment, but other than that everything is the same. There's even still a flyer on the bulletin board advertising an apartment-wide potluck set the week after Outbreak Day. Jane wanted to go. She said her friends were going and she wanted you to meet them. You said you'd think about it.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you find your apartment door still open and immediately regret not closing it. What if there's nothing left? What if it's been raided? What if it's all destroyed? You push yourself forward until you're over the threshold and back into the life you left behind. The body of the runner who burst into your apartment that night is still there, grey and all but dust at this point. Dirty plates sit in the sink. Jane's kindergarten homework has slid off the table and onto the floor, her scribbly handwriting boring holes into you. You pick it up despite it having boot marks and ripped edges and stare down at how she wrote her name. Joel doesn't say anything, but he squeezes your shoulder and lets you know he's there.

Together, you silently move through the rooms and salvage whatever you find. In your room, you find ratty old clothes from 2003, medical textbooks, and a file full of important documents shoved under your bed. Among the papers are your tax forms, a copy of your college diploma, and Jane's birth certificate— the only physical proof that she was ever here. Jane Eloise born April 7th, 1998, to you and no one else. Somehow, the glaring absence of Matt's name on her birth certificate still makes your stomach turn. You find a few more keepsakes before moving to the living room.

Whatever might've been there has been taken or destroyed by whoever's been in the building in the last twenty years. The blankets and pillows that once lived on your couch are gone. Your TV has been smashed in. The shoes Jane always left in the middle of the floor have disappeared, probably taken by some other parent who was desperate and was too scared to think of the child who left them. You're about to walk down the hallway to the bathroom and Jane's room when something crunches under your foot. You look down, and all the air gets punched out of your chest. As gently as possible, you bend down to pick up the shattered picture frame and stare at it. 

It was a picture taken by a friend at the county fair. Jane is on your right with a half-eaten blue cotton candy in her hand and a water bottle tucked under her arm. Her hair is in a braid, and there's a big blue stain on her Princess Ariel shirt, but she looks happy. You're both smiling big, the reflection of the colorful carnival lights shining in your identical eyes. Everyone always said she looked like Matt, but you can clearly see your features reflected back to you in this picture. God, how could you have forgotten about the way her eyes crinkled when she was happy? Or how she leaned into you in public? Or how young you both were?

"What's that?" Joel asks as he walks over to you, and you meet him halfway to show him the picture, unwilling to hand it over just yet. It takes him a minute to realize what he's looking at, but when he does, he looks up to catch you staring at the picture. "'S that Jane?"

"Mhm,"

"She's beautiful," he says, and you smile. "Is that cotton candy?"

"Yeah, it was her favorite. Practically begged me to buy it for her. I'm pretty sure I overdrafted my bank account just to get it."

"How old are you in this photo?" He asks, and you furrow your brows as you think. 

"Uh, Jane looks about three or four, so I was, at least, nineteen."

"You look happy."

"And tired," you say. Both things are true, but you can't ignore the bags under your eyes or your horribly fitting clothes. You were struggling. You were alone. You were so incredibly ill-equipped and felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. And Jane... Jane is none the wiser. She's smiling. She's fed. She's loved. She's happy. Maybe you were doing a better job than you thought you were. "You know she wanted to go on the Ferris wheel?" You ask, and Joel raises his eyebrows.

"That little?" He asks, and you laugh, nodding.

"I said the same thing, but she was so determined. So, my friend got us tickets to go on it, and we went, just the two of us. But when we started going around, she started getting really scared about the height and how fast it was going. She buried her head in my arm almost the whole time, and I was stressed that she was miserable and we had wasted my friend's money, and I was so fucking tired," you say. "But when we stopped at the top, I told her to look at the sky, and she did. I pointed at the different stars and talked to her about the moon, and she calmed down. I don't know if I distracted her or if she realized how big the sky was in comparison, but when we got down, all she could talk about was how close she got to the moon. After that, we'd go out every night and look at the stars. Even snuck out of our QZ shelter after the Outbreak."

"D'you get caught?" 

"Once. I knew a FEDRA guy, and he let it go. We never got caught again." You haven't thought about Owen in years. You don't know if he's dead or alive. You don't even know if he remembers you. You're not sure if you want to know. 

You grab a few more things from her room: a teddy bear, a few shirts, and a picture of you and her on the day she was born. Being in her space again makes your head swim, and you want to stay here forever and leave as soon as possible, all at the same time. Eventually, after combing through every nook and cranny you still know, you do leave. You say a proper goodbye to the first home you shared with Jane and the memories you made there. You're silently grateful to the apartment for holding so many treasures you would've otherwise never gotten back. 

You don't know why, but you trace your steps back through one of your old routes. Joel is silent beside you and lets you lead, knowing you would never do anything to endanger him. You recount stories as you pass certain buildings or paths; he listens and asks questions about her and your shared life. Before you know it, you're on the same hill overlooking the QZ. The one where you hid with her when the Outbreak first happened. The one you sat down on and sobbed after Adam died because you had to pull yourself together before reentering. The one you buried her on. 

The tree holding her has gotten bigger, its limbs stretching to the sky and the leaves a brilliant green. Seeing it thrive makes you smile just a little before you pivot and start walking to where you know she is. The sight of a fresh bouquet on her spot stops you in your tracks and makes your breath catch. All these years, you worried she would go unremembered under that big oak tree. You worried she was alone and scared. You worried and worried and worried because that's what any good parent does. The yellow flowers protecting her prove your worries wrong. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand before walking over to her. 

"Hey bug," you start, fighting your tears, "This is Joel. He’s Sarah’s dad and he’s my… he’s my best friend." You squeeze Joel’s hand and take a shaky breath. "He takes care of me and I take care of him. So, you don’t have to worry about Mommy being lonely, okay? I’m gonna be just fine. You don’t have to be scared for me. I've got my people here just like you've got your people there. So, you just rest and I'll be okay." Now, you're really crying and there's no stopping it.

"I love you. I hope leaving didn't make you think otherwise, but I came back. I'll always come back because you're my baby. You'll always be my baby."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

[the-guilty-writer]

Seven

Aaron Hotchner x platonic!GN!reader

Summary: “No one should have to function like this. Someone should fight for you. You deserve for someone to fight for you.” 

A/N: Apparently I just really like naming my work after numbers. Prompt from my poll a few weeks ago! Ya'll picked Hotch and I’m not mad about it at all! I don’t usually do dedications, but I think this is worthy of one. The piece revolves around physical chronic pain, but the emotions in this can be applicable to many situations: so to all those who need it, i hope you find comfort in this piece.

CW: Reader experiences chronic pain, feelings of unworthiness, takes medication

---

Seven.

On a scale from one to ten, your pain was a seven. On normal days is was a four, maybe three if you were lucky. You called your doctor if it was above a six for a few days and your medication wasn’t working. The only time it was worth it to go to the ER was when you reached a nine - anything less and they didn’t take you seriously. Today, you were at a seven.

With every breath, the oxygen that washed into your lungs fueled the fire that burned you from inside out. The medication that should have kicked in hours ago didn’t ease the sensation; you’d taken the pills in the middle of the night when agony woke you from your slumber. The drugs made you feel high out of your mind, but at least they worked. By the time you’d have to get up, the worst of the side effects would be gone and the excruciating suffering would have deadened itself to a more manageable ache. But not today.

Today, you sat at your desk in the bullpen, fighting back tears. With every slight movement you made the pain washed through your body like acid. All you could do was go on, wishing that you had taken the day off. You could have called in sick, but there was something about the pile of files on your desk that forced you to come into work; the longer it took to get a profiles out, the longer it would take to stop the killers and the more lives could be lost. You wouldn't let that happen.

If one was to put it simply, you always put the needs of others before your own. Your greatest blessing and your greatest curse in one.

A notification came up on your phone - a reminder that the team was gathering for a meeting. The walk from your desk to the conference room was less than 100ft, but even the idea of standing made you want to cry. It was painful to think about walking, and you honestly weren’t sure if you’d make it up those five stairs without throwing up. You’d made the journey before, though, even on bad days.

But today you had reached a new level of anguish. Through the past few months, the pain had been slowly intensifying - so slowly that you didn’t recognize it until you did. It was as if you were a child who didn’t realize how many seashells they had collected until they were halfway back down the beach, only noticing the extra strain when they didn’t have enough energy to carry the bucket any longer; the gradual desensitization to the weight caused it to go unnoticed until the body could no longer pretend that it didn’t exist.

Still, you gathered your papers like another beautiful shell to add to your overflowing bucket and stood to go to the conference room. Every fiber of your body screamed. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you still stood from your desk. Every time your heel hit the floor, lightning struck through your body, and with every step the voltage increased.

When you found yourself at the bottom of the staircase, your breath was uneven, hands shaking ever so slightly. The metal of the railing was shockingly cold under your palm, not making it any easier to hide how raw your body was to any sensation. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing for the painful ascent.

“(Y/N)?”

You paused and looked up to the man who stood outside his office at the top of the stairs. “Sorry I’m late,” you said. The waver in your voice would have gone unnoticed if you were anywhere else but the bullpen of the BAU. Nothing went unnoticed in the bullpen of the BAU.

Hotch tilted his head slightly- the action itself softened his entire demeanor. But you didn’t want him to be soft right now. You wanted him to tell you to get your ass to the conference room, that everyone was allowed to be late just once, that the team was on a deadline and-

“Are you okay?”

“I-” Your breath faltered before increasing in speed. “I-” The hand on the rail took on a little more weight than before. “I’m-” Your throat closed, unable to speak the lie you so badly wanted to tell, but couldn’t. One more attempt at a deep breath that was severely shallow. “No.”

And just like that, you began to fall apart. Your mind, clouded with pain, didn’t quite register what was happening. It could only pick out the small things; files no longer being in your hands, the sound of an old office chair’s wheels, the smell of a freshly pressed suit, and gentle hands guiding you.

“Sit down.” It was odd to hear your boss’s voice in such a gentle manner, but you were in no state to be shocked and in no position to deny his order. So you sat, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball as soon as you hit the seat. You tried to think about your breaathing once again, having to focus a little too much on a function that the body should do automatically.

“Here,” it was Hotch again, pressing a bottle of water into your hands. “Drink this.”

If you felt better you might make a joke about poison, but you didn’t. You instead, drank the water- room temperature. Somehow you managed not to spill it all over your shirt. Hotch gently took the bottle back and you heard him set it down on the desk.

When you opened your eyes, you were met by the sight of your boss looking at you with concern. You let out a sigh. You hated that look. Even though Hotch was well aware of your condition, it was different for someone to see you experiencing it in real time… shattering your idea that if no one ever saw it, then it didn’t actually exist. You never actually suffered.

“Do you have your medication with you?” Hotch asked.

“I already took the maximum dose,” you whispered, feeling the hopelessness weigh on your chest.

“I’ll take you to the ER,” he started, getting up from where he was sitting across from you. 

“No,” you said, swallowing to contain the pain from escaping your tone. “I’m only at a seven.”

Hotch paused and sat down again. “What do you mean?”

“When you go to the ER they ask you to rate your pain on a scale from one to ten,” you told him. “I only go if I'm at a nine. Right now I'm at a seven.”

You met Hotch’s gaze. Even with its softness, it was still soul piercing. As if he was looking right through your eyes, reading the thoughts written across your mind.

“You’re in pain.”

“As long as I can function, it isn't worth the fight.”

“No one should have to function like this. Someone should fight for you. You deserve for someone to fight for you.” 

A pause stood between you and your boss, his words hanging in the air long after he had finished speaking. Never, in your life, had you been confronted by such deep sympathy at once.

As a child, you had hidden your pain so well that no one would have ever known it was there unless you told them. The pain grew as the years went on, but every cry for help was shut down. Complain and you were a burden, other people had it worse, you weren’t worth the trouble. So you kept it to yourself.

Until now.

With tears in your eyes, you nodded at Hotch. He helped you rise from the chair, careful to support you without causing further pain. You stood carefully, clenching your jaw to keep from screaming.

The manila folders caught your eye. “My files-”

“Reid can handle your files,” Hotch said softly, as he helped you move slowly toward the glass bullpen doors.

“The meeting-”

“Morgan can lead the meeting.”

“There are consults-”

“Prentiss can do your consults.” Hotch opened the door for you.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

The question was deeper than it appeared on the surface; are you sure I can miss work? Are you sure I’m not bothering you? Are you sure I’m worth it?

Hotch took your hand gently. “Yes.”

[emperor-palpaminty]

Bed(side) Manners

Minors DNI- NSFW, but I am vanilla so eh. If your age isn't in your bio and you interact you're getting blocked, sorry babez. It does mention other callsigns hehe (also if y'all have Call Sign name ideas that would be awesome, I'm thinking each COD reader insert will get a call sign)

Female doctor reader ("Doc") x Ghost: part 1 here hehe

Comments/reblogs appreciated! Likes don't do much on Tumblr, sadly. My inbox is also currently open for COD requests if ya want more!

Ghost's foot steps were steady down the hall, but he was moving quickly. He had about fourty-five seconds before his watch read six and he was going to ensure the doctor was off on the dot. He turned the corner, nodding politely at Banshee and Gaz passing by and kept his pace up.

Thirty-two seconds.

He exhaled a bit and glanced around the hall to ensure he was alone. If anyone else spotted him bursting into Doc's office after hours- he didn't really care about himself, but he didn't know how she felt about others knowing or not.

Fifteen seconds.

He dropped his watch as the door came in sight. It always felt slower when he was actually eager for something.

This wasn't his first time seeing the doctor- they had passed on the field and on base many times. She intrigued him. He hummed in thought, pushing aside anything other than lust out of his brain.

His hand pushed open her door with five seconds to spare, and she glanced up from her desk. Her head tilted and her red lips pressed into a smile. "Someone took 'six o' clock' very literally."

"I'm always punctual." Ghost stepped in, slowly, and listened as the door shut behind him. Doc looked back down at the manilla folder in front of her, and he could see her fucking red lips quirk into a smile.

"Half your file is redacted, you know."

"Snooping, doc?" Ghost chuckled, pausing only a couple inches behind her chair. He leaned over the back of the chair, eyes scanning between the top of her head and the open file on the desk in front of her.

Indeed, it was his- much was redacted. As it should be. She hummed noncommittaly as her hands skimmed the edge of the manilla folder, fingers smoothing around a corner of it before she closed it. "Strange man, Riley." She tilted her head backwards and looked up at him, her intelligent eyes skimming over his mask.

Ghost only raised a brow as he looked down at her. The teasing really got him- it was something he enjoyed. Playing with his food, for lack of a better phrase. "Snarky for a doctor. Doesn't make for a good doctor. Bedside manners and all."

She stood from the chair, turning and looking up at him- the same glint stirred in her eye as she looked him over, sizing him up. "Never been good about bedside manners." Doc shrugged off her medical coat, dropping it on the back of the chair. Her lips pressed as she leaned back on the desk, her hands resting on her thighs as she looked him over again. "The bed isn't a good place to practice your good manners."

Ghost managed a chuckle and stepped forward. His hands moved as he strode over, bracing them on either side of her body against the desk- his thumbs brushed the hips of her khakis. "Not even a please? Or a thank you?"

"Why, LT." Doc crossed her arms, leaning back rather comfortably. It was as though she was not sitting between two arms ready to grab, or speaking with lips that looked ready to be devoured. The tension between them was palpable, thick, as she blinked up at him. "You say please in bed?"

Hands scooting closer to her, Ghost leaned in. Eyes locked steadily on his own- concise as surgery, deadly as a wound. "One way to find out."

Her lips quirked again, bold eyes darting down to roughly where his mouth was under his mask. She smiled, sweetly stepping against his hands before guiding him to the door.

---

The bedroom was further off than the barracks- doctors were just lucky that way. Even as he had picked her up, her hands rushing down to his belt, his hips dug into hers and pressed her on the wall next to the door. They had just made it in- by the time they had reached Doc's hall they were all over each other, and now, in the privacy of her own little room...

Ghost's mask was rolled up over his mouth, exposing the fraction of his nose that the mask had come to know- there was a fold in the fabric there, waiting and ready to be pushed back for talking, eating, or using his mouth in other ways.

Her lips were addicting. Ghost could hear the small moans that left her whenever he kissed her or grabbed her, sounds he decided he could get used to. She was hoisted up between the wall and himself, her hands running over his shoulders, his mask, wherever they could to feel like she could steady herself. Ghost jutted his hips into hers, the jeans constricting him. The movement earned him a weak groan, and he pressed away.

"Feels good, yeah?" He mumbled, the gloved hand grabbing at her ass. Her trousers had been a blessing, showing off the shape of her, but they had just about served their purpose. "Wanna get a little preview of how I'm gonna use this body tonight?" Ghost grunted and turned his head, face and mouth digging into her neck. She smells faintly floral- feminine and soft. Breakable. A wanton whine left her lips as his teeth grabbed for her skin, and his hips moved in tandem. "Didn't hear ya." Ghost paused, then chuckled against her skin. "Maybe a please, doctor. Could work on those bedside manners of yours."

Doc sucked in a breath, managing a brief laugh. "You want me to say please? To you?" He heard her smile fade as he opened his mouth against the nape of her neck, tongue and teeth working. Her head tilted back and he groaned against the length of her neck, hands skimming up her skin from under her shirt.

"Yes. Would be-" His teeth pulled her skin into his mouth, and he sighed, happily, as she squirmed. "Impolite not to, yeah?"

The doctor sighed reluctantly, and pulled back far enough to look at Ghost. Kiss-bruised lips pressed into a playful pout, and she batted her lashes. "Please, then."

"Please what?"

Doc chuckled, leaning forward; she was close enough for her nose to brush against the mask. "Please bend me over and fuck me silly?"

Ghost purred in response, dropping her from his arms. "That's more like it." He muttered, yanking a hand up to his mouth and catching the two fingers between his teeth. Slowly, he pulled his hand out. Tattoos peeked out from the long sleeves he was wearing on the cooler base, touching his wrist or snaking along his skin and under the fabric. "Asking me to fuck ya."

Doc's eyes gleamed with greed as she looked at his fingers before the large hands slid up her body, calling her attention back to the matter at hand. She hummed and looked back up to what she could make out of his face as he grasped her, hands feverishly feeling for what he could of her, running up and down her body under the damn shirt. "Let's get these off, yeah?"

"Sir, yes sir." Doc purred.

That was all the affirmation Ghost needed. He yanked up the hem of her shirt, a soft grunt leaving him when he saw the bra- lacy and black, leaving something heavy with desire in the pit of his stomach. "Fuckin hell." Ghost dropped her shirt on the floor, fingers moving back up to her breasts. "These fucking tits. Stare at 'em every time you fix me up."

"I know." The words left her mouth with a little huffed laugh, mingling with a whine as his fingers trailed over the thin fabric before she leaned back on the bed, her hands tangled in the thick fabric of his shirt.

Ghost fumbled with her pants. "Gonna leave my gear on, yeah?" He managed against her mouth. He pressed a kiss against her lips. "Never know when I'm gonna be called for."

"If you leave me now I'm not going to forgive you." Doc chided, leaning on her back. The motion of sliding her pants down her thighs was graceful, well thought and well practiced. "I've been waiting for this." Her lips curled devilishly as she laid back on the bed, grinning up at him as her eyes wandered over him. "I thought you would have lost the clothes."

Ghost chuckled, standing still. He reached a hand down and smoothed it up her thigh. Doc hummed, the muscles under her flesh flexing at the contact. "Nah. The mask stays on minimum."

"I like the mask."

"Good."

Ghost's hands grasped her thigh, staring over her. The cargos were restrictive, he was straining against the zipper of them- but he had to decide what to do. "Wanna fuck ya in so many ways."

Doc propped up on her arms, the bed frame barely creaking with the movement. "Then do it."

"I will, love. Just trynna decide how I wanna do it this time." He had abandoned his jacket, but he was feeling oddly warm. "So beautiful, but not sure where I want ya." Everywhere, mostly. On his face, on his lap, on his bed.

Doc's thighs rubbed together, her hips rolling up in a sinful motion. Ghost fought off a sound in his throat as he watched her strain for him.

"Want me in ya?"

"The sooner the better." Doc grinned, her bare legs squeezing his thighs, eyes coaxing and voice dipping into a gentle coo.

Ghost grunted, hands dropping to his belt. "Just gonna keep that on for me, love?" His fingers pulled at the buckle, eyes trailing over her body again, a hum of approval leaving Doc. She chewed on her lower lip, eyes glinting with greed. "Wanna fuck ya in that."

It was good that her dorm was so far- being a doctor on base gave her the privilege of privacy. Ghost shoved his jeans down and hooked his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers. Doc began to sit up and looked down towards his dick, a smile curling on her lips. "All for me?" She teased, her hips scooting towards the edge of the bed.

Ghost bent his head, spitting on the tip of himself before stroking himself. "You know it." He exhaled, nerves tangling over themselves in anticipation. She told him earlier that she had the arm implant and had a supply of Plan B- all he had to do was get the fuck in her.

Ghost slid his fingers up Doc's thighs- they were soft, the skin supple under his hands. Warm. His eyes darted towards her face, watching her lashes flutter as he tugged her panties aside. She let out a sound at the brief contact, the way his knuckles nudged her core open, a noise that could only be defined as craving. Ghost reached up with the hand that had been on his cock and tugged his mask back down over his face.

Doc's hips writhed up, searching for him, only for his fingers to barely stroke between the fleshy folds. "Patience, Doctor." Ghost grunted, his hand stroking himself again. Even if he stood here, this being wanting and moaning and vulnerable to him and jerked himself off, it wouldn't be enough. "'Boutta wear thin on mine, though."

A whine, a mewel really, wordless, escaped her, as his fingers dipped in- she stuck to him like honey, like sin, and he knew better things lie in her.

Ghost forced his hand away from his own dick, the edging throb of coming ebbing away, the feeling dissipating into annoyance. He exhaled, pushing her thighs open, fingers keeping the panties off to the side. He could smell the sex as he prodded at her opening with the tip of himself, inhaling heavily through the mask as she opened her legs for him, more, encouraging him with soft sounds of seduction.

"Ghost-" She strained to sit up, eyes darting down to where their bodies met. Her lips parted and she gave a whine, urging Ghost to push himself in more. She took every inch like a champ. Warm. Eager. Wanting. It radiated off her as he pushed the rest of himself in, shuddering at the seeping warmth all around his dick.

He was glad he wore the mask, at least. His eyes just about rolled to the back of his head as he bucked his hips once, his jaw tightening under the fabric. Her skin was hot against his cold belt buckle, her legs squeezing around his white tee. His eyes shut as he leaned forward, angling over her and grasping the cool metal board of the unforgiving bed. "That's it," He heard himself say as his huffs of breath were slightly muffled from the mask. "Pretty girl, I've gotcha." He rasped, eyes still closed, focusing on the heat creeping through his veins.

Doc managed something akin to words under him, Her hands raked over his arms, the fabric of his shirt and his mask, trying to grasp something. "This how you pay-" She turned her head, breath warm against his mask. "All those medical bills?" She laughed but it was lost between a moan and sigh as he moved, quicker, her body tensing.

Ghost spread his hands on her thighs and shoved them open, pressing them as flat as possible against the mattress. "'S it working?"

Her body rocked under him, finding solace in the contact. He could feel her shuddering under his hands, her thighs tensing. "Yeah." her breathing quickened and she turned her head against his mask, right by where his ear was hidden, and let out the softest moan. "You're- I'll-"

Ghost nodded, pushing himself to keep his hands on her body, eyes still shut. "Do it." He mumbled. "Whatever ya need. Just-" He grunted. "Soon."

The doctor's back arched, her legs snapping up and nearly shutting around him if his hands hadn't been spreading them open. She whined, a sweet and pitiful noise, and he felt her pulsing around him. A high pitched whine poured from her lips, and Ghost saw stars mounting behind his eyes.

"Fucking hell-" Ghost mumbled, hips snapping into her orgasam. "So fuckin' good, you come so pretty, fuck," Ghost leaned back, breath caught in the knit of the mask, the motions feeling more frantic.

Control- that was what the missions, the wars, he lacked. Here, in bed and behind closed doors, he could at least control himself and his dick. He could finally bring some pleasure, not pain. He buried himself in her, chanting quietly- fucking beautiful, love the sounds of that wet cunt, attagirl- until he was at the brink. He knew Doc could see his eyes open, just see the whites of them as he came, hips stuttering at last.

He leaned over her, Doc's pussy still nestled around him, her spasms slowing as his high began to ebb off. He nudged his masked face into her shoulder, exhaling slowly.

They took a moment. It was a rare few seconds of silence.

"You good?"

"Yeah." Ghost grunted. "Just- been a minute."

Doc chuckled. Her laugh was coy and inviting. In the dark room there was only him and her. Some normalcy, perhaps. "Been a bit for me, too."

Ghost blinked, wriggling his hips slightly. The sound of the suction as he pulled out was wet, needy. "For a pretty thing like you?"

She shrugged under him, doctorly hands running over the mask. "Yeah. I know. What a coincidence war keeps me busy." Doc chuckled, her eyes meeting Ghost as he pulled back.

She couldn't see his flushed cheeks, the way his lips twitched into a post-coital lazy smile. Just his eyes. Sometimes that was all he wanted people to see. "Seems like we're busy at the same time."

Doc's legs dropped from him, folding lazily onto the bed. "Mm."

"And not busy when we happen to be on base at the same time."

Doc's brows raised, and her lips curled into a smile. "What a coincidence," She purred, and even though she didn't know it, her smile matched his. "Maybe the next time we both aren't busy, you can swing by again for another appointment."

Ghost nodded, relief mingling with eagerness, his hand sliding up her body, memorizing the pattern of her skin and the warmth of her body, the deep breaths she took to calm herself and her nerves down. "I like the sound of that."

She grinned, laying back flat on the mattress as he leaned over her, bracing himself. Looks like he had standing appointments with the base doctor for the forseeable future. Not that he minded at all, as long as they all ended like this.

[queenofsimpsblog]

You said requests were open soooo can I request a kind of Protective!Shuri x reader where the reader is so overwhelmed with her classes (or just one particular class - for me this semester it’s statistical coding as someone with NO coding experience, if you wanted to be specific) and Shuri, who’s already insanely protective, is comforting the reader? I can imagine Shuri just being so sweet, kissing away tears and in all seriousness telling the reader she “can drop the class right now” because if it makes her girlfriend upset, she doesn’t need to do it - Shuri’s the Queen of Wakanda, she’ll make sure they let you drop (to which the reader obviously says no - it’s a part of her major!). I just love it when people write Shuri as so attentive and protective instead of mean or toxic. Thank you SO MUCH if you write it!! I’m definitely requesting this fully for myself because it’s not even the second week of the semester yet and this coding is kicking my ass 😅 anyway thanks again if you do, no pressure if you don’t want to!!!

stressed out - shuri x reader

A/N: awwww that’s such a cute idea!! so sorry it took so long for me to write this… also i have absolutely no idea what statistical coding is like so i’m just making stuff up about it so sorry if this gets a little inaccurate

i added a bit of ✨spice✨ to the plot, hope that’s okay!

“code failed. please try again.” the robotic voice of your laptop taunted you as you groaned, rubbing your eyes.

statistical coding, in general, was a challenging course. even more so for people who had zero coding experience like you. but since the course was an important aspect of your major, you couldn’t drop it.

you were having an existential crisis at this point. your professor gave an assignment to design an algorithm to organise the medical files of your class, which had 150 people. the medical files were, of course, fake, to protect the privacy of everyone. the objective was to get everyone to more comfortable with organising several data samples. the assignment was kicking your ass.

beep.

your phone buzzed from your bed. you picked it up and looked at the notification.

shuri

hi sthandwa! we still on for today?

you groaned again. shuri planned a cute cafe date for you today. you were super excited until your professor’s assignment destroyed your friday night.

you

i’m sorry babe, gonna have to cancel

i don’t feel well

you hated lying to her. but it was just embarrassing to admit that you were struggling. shuri was the queen of wakanda, a genius. you already felt like you were inferior and weren’t enough for her. telling her you were struggling in a course she could probably finish in her sleep was something you’d never do.

you sighed and rubbed your eyes again, reaching for the monster can on your desk and chugged the remainder, chucking it in the trash can. cracking your knuckles, you pulled open your textbook to find the instructions for developing codes to organise large data samples.

about half an hour later, you heard a loud knock on your dorm door. you looked up and frowned. i didn’t call anyone over, who could it be?

you yanked open the door and saw shuri standing on the other side, looking angry.

“shuri? what’s up, why are you here?” you opened the door wider for her to enter.

“shouldn’t i be asking the questions? you tell me you don’t feel well, then you just go offline. i spammed you so much and you didn’t reply. i was so worried,”

“i’m sorry i was working,”

“shouldn’t you be resting if you’re sick?”

you sighed.

“fine. i lied. i’m not sick, i’m just busy,”

shuri scoffed at your words. “busy? you never lie to me sthandwa. what’s going on? is there someone else on the side?”

your eyes widened. “no! of course not! i was just doing some class work, alright? not a big deal. you can leave now,” you snapped.

shuri paused for a moment, realisation slowly hitting her. she noticed your locks looked messy. the bags under your eyes were huge. your skin looked pasty. and you looked incredibly exhausted.

you were stressed out.

“sthandwa, are you okay? and don’t give me some bullshit that you are, cause i know you’re not. tell me truth usana, let me help you,”

and with that, you broke down. sobs wrecked through your body as you collapsed on the floor, shuri quick on your side to hold you. you stayed like that, in her arms, for nearly half an hour. that’s when you calmed down and kept your gaze on the floor. you were too scared to admit to her what was on your mind.

“y/n, look at me,” she demanded softly. when you refused to move your head, she grabbed your chin for your gaze to meet hers.

“talk to me,”

you sighed and accepted your fate.

“i’m just stressed about my statistical coding class. my professor is an asshole that gives assignments all the time cause he thinks it’s helpful. but it’s not, cause he can’t teach for shit. and i’ve just been scared to tell you because…” you paused, not wanting to continue. shuri gently nudged you with her arm, which forced the words out of you.

“i just don’t want you to think i’m stupid. you’re a genius, and i’m just… average,” you sighed, tearing up again.

“sweetheart it’s alright to struggle every once in a while. i struggle sometimes too. my job isn’t easy,” she chuckled and you let out an exhausted smile.

“just because i make it seem like i understand very complicated things at the first reading, doesn’t mean that’s always the case. i think you’re wonderful. and you’re not stupid! not even close. you remember that one time i struggled to make this code, and you pointed out that it was because i added the numbers instead of multiplying them?”

you laughed at the memory. shuri smiled, knowing she was improving your mood.

“and you know, if it’s too much, you can drop the course. i can let the dean know. i hate to see my love overworked like this,”

“babe, you know i can’t do that! this is my major, i have to suck it up for the next couple years,”

“i refuse to let anyone make my princess feel like she isn’t worth it,” you swooned at her words.

both of you stayed like that together, in silence. it was peaceful. shuri’s presence had that effect on you.

she broke the silence. “okay, how about we take a little study break? go get changed. i’m taking you out for dinner,” you smiled and grabbed her shirt collar, pulling her into a sweet kiss.

oh, what would you do without your sweet shuri?

[goldenempyrean]

Spinning Hearts

REQUEST FROM AO3: Lena is high on cold medicine, Kara must deal with it. Bonus if Kara confesses she has feelings for Lena

〚 Notes - This was fun to write, I thought the idea was so cute, not sure if this needs a warning but she is high as fuck in this so just keep that in mind. 〛

〚 Pairing - Supercorp 〛

〚 Summary - In a medicated haze, Lena Luthor's orderly world spins out of control, leading to a candid confession of love from both her and her best friend. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1570 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Lena Luthor sat at her sleek, glass-topped desk in her high-rise office, the soft glow of National City spreading out beyond the panoramic windows. Files and plans were scattered haphazardly across the surface, and the soft hum of her laptop was accompanied by the rhythmic creak of her leather chair as she spun around in it, her head lolling back with a dazed expression on her face. Each spin of her chair left her feeling more disoriented, yet she couldn't help but revel in the sensation of weightlessness it brought. 

The words on her screen seemed to blur together, and her fingers stumbled over the keyboard. Her normally pristine workspace was now adorned with crumpled tissues and scattered papers, a testament to her futile attempts to maintain order. Maybe she would’ve been more productive if it hadn’t been for the empty bottle of Dayquil sitting on its side. Her logic had been that if she wanted to work for the whole day, without having to take a break that she should just take the overall dosage for one day, ignoring the 4-hour break in-between dosages that she was meant to take and in turn was completely and utterly out of it. 

Lena's assistant, Jess, stood in the doorway, her eyebrows raised as she took in the scene before her. She had seen Lena in many states—focused, determined, even furious—but this was an entirely new level of... well, something. She cleared her throat, trying not to laugh at the sight of her usually composed and serious boss acting like a child on a merry-go-round. 

“Excuse me, M-Ms Luthor?” Jess stammered, her voice carrying a mix of concern and amusement before catching sight of the empty bottle of medicine, “Oh, Jesus how much of this did you take?” She asked, shaking her head in disapproval before picking up the bottle and numerous crumpled tissues littering her desk to throw in the trash. 

"Oh, h-hi there," Lena mumbled, her voice sounding dreamy and distant. She held onto the edge of the desk as if to steady herself, her chair still twirling slightly beneath her. "Just trying to... recalibrate the gravitational algorithms, you know. Multitasking." 

Jess suppressed another chuckle, wondering if she should just call it a day and make sure Lena got home safely. But then she remembered something important—the voice on the other end of Lena's frequent late-night phone calls. Jess reached for her phone and dialled a familiar number. 

The phone only had to ring once before Kara’s cheery voice rang down the phone, “Hi Jess, it’s not like you to call me. How are you?” She asked happily, blissfully unaware. 

“Hey Kara, I’m okay, I'm not calling for me.” Jess began, keeping her eyes trained on the Luthor slowly gliding in her chair as it rolled along the smooth floor, “It’s Lena.” 

“Lena? What’s wrong with Lena? What’s going on?” The shift in her voice was obvious at the mention of her best friend's name. 

“Well, she caught that bug going around which would’ve been fine in itself, she can handle herself – usually.” She trailed off, trying to stifle a giggle at the sight of her boss slowly tapping her pinkie fingers together, “For some god known reason, she decided to take way too much medicine, she’s really out of it right now, and I mean really.” 

"Will do," Jess replied, feeling relieved that Kara was on her way. She hung up and turned her attention back to Lena, who’d given up on spinning and had been leaning back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Lena, sweetie," Jess said gently, moving closer to the spinning spectacle, "Kara's on her way. She'll help you get through this." 

Lena's unfocused gaze shifted to Jess, and she grinned dopily. "Jess, did you know that if you rearrange the letters in 'gravitational,' you can spell 'I love gala invitation'?" She paused, her expression turning more serious. "But I don't love galas. I love... Kara." 

Jess couldn't help but smile at Lena's loopy confession. "I know you do. And she's coming to make sure you're okay." 

Of course, Kara used her super-speed to get there. She couldn’t help but be worried. Lena was the most put-together person she knew beside Alex and the idea of her like this made her head dizzy was concern. 

There was a sound of a faint swoosh, and before they knew it, Kara was opening the door the office and letting herself inside. As she took in the scene before her, Kara couldn't help the concerned smile that tugged at her lips as she approached Jess, who was standing near Lena's twirling chair. 

"Thank you so much for calling me, Jess," Kara said earnestly, her voice carrying genuine gratitude. "How is she doing?" 

Jess returned her smile, her own relief evident. "You're welcome, she's... well, you can see for yourself." 

Lena's chair had slowed down, and she was now attempting to stand, albeit a bit wobbly and her head perked up at the sound of Kara's voice, and she sneezed unexpectedly, her body jerking forward with the force of it. A series of small, adorable sneezes followed, and Lena blinked owlishly at Kara. 

“Bless you.” The blonde murmured, wandering over to the tissue box sat at the other side of the room and taking it back to offer out which the CEO accepted with a small innocent smile 

Gently, Kara reached out to place a hand on Lena's forehead, checking her temperature, "Hmm, I think someone might be running a fever." 

Lena giggled softly, leaning into Kara's touch, “Just a tad.” She mumbled in agreement before mirroring the Kyrptonian’s action and putting her own hand to the blonde’s forehead, “It’s ‘cause you’re hot.” 

Kara's cheeks flushed slightly at Lena's words. She was used to Lena's honesty by now, but the way her feelings were coming out in her current state was both endearing and surprising. "Come on, you." Kara said softly, her voice gentle and reassuring. "We’re gonna go back to my apartment, okay? I can take care of you there." She began guiding Lena towards the door, her super-strength easily supporting the slightly wobbly CEO. 

Lena leaned into Kara's touch, her steps unsteady, "Mmm, you're my hero y’know.” 

Kara smiled, her heart swelling at the affectionate words. "And you're mine.” She led her out of the office and into the hallway, where Jess gave them a knowing smile and a subtle thumbs-up to which the Luthor saw and returned the gesture in an exaggerated manner before almost tripping, leading Kara to practically carry her the rest of the way. 

It didn’t take long for the pair to arrive at Kara's apartment, the Kryptonian gently settled Lena onto the couch, ensuring she was comfortable with a soft blanket before disappearing briefly into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a damn cloth. She sat down beside Lena, helping her drink before placing the cool cloth over her forehead. 

"Kara, you have the softest couch in the world," Lena mumbled, her words slightly slurred as she yawned and leaned into her. 

Kara chuckled softly as she tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Just for you." 

Lena reached out and cupped Kara's cheek, her touch warm and tender. "You're amazing, you know that? Always taking care of me." 

Lena's tired eyes seemed to shine even in her groggy state as Kara smiled softly. "I've been meaning to tell you something, Lena." She spoke up, finally working up the courage to say what she would been wanting to for weeks, her voice a mixture of sincerity and nervousness. Now might’ve not been the best time but she just couldn’t wait any longer.  

Lena sniffled as she looked up at Kara, a curious expression on her face, "What is it?” 

Kara paused for a second, and that second seemed to last for hours before she took a deep breath, her heart beating slightly faster before she worked up the courage to admit, "I love you, Lena. I've loved you for a while now, and I can't keep ignoring it any longer.” 

 Lena blinked, her hazel eyes widening as if trying to process the weight of Kara's confession. A soft smile tugged at her the corners of her lips as she lightly ran her thumb over Kara's blushed cheek, her medicine-high beginning to fade a little as she managed to stay coherent enough to say, "Kara, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you, I’ve been waiting so long." 

She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Kara's heart seemingly skipped a beat, and she leaned into the Luthor’s touch, a mixture of relief and joy flooding over her. "You mean…?" She trailed off, letting the other fill in the blank. 

Lena nodded, her smile growing more radiant as she took the blonde’s soft hand in her own, "Yes, Kara Danvers, I love you too. More than I ever thought was possible." 

In that moment, the rest of the ongoing world seemed to fade away into the background, leaving just the two of them on the sofa. Kara leaned in closer, her lips gently meeting Lena's in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden for far too long – love, longing, and the promise of something beautiful. 

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[getinthefuckingjaeger]

(Ice is alive because I said so & this is my pitch for mavdad)

Mav gawks at Jake as the younger looks anywhere but at him. The outpatient section of the ER is a steady stream of chatter and activities with medical personnel moving about and the occasional police and EMT filing in and out of the double doors. Mav moves out of the way of a cart pushed by a disgruntled nurse and ducks between the partially closed curtains, pulling them close behind him.

“Captain Mitchell, Sir.” Jake shoots his guiltless smile at Mav. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Here, as in the ER.” Mav raises his eyebrows at Jake who seems to find Mav’s sleep rumpled shirt the most interesting thing in the entire ward. “Here, as in the ER at 3.30, almost 4AM on a Saturday.” Mav throws his hands out. “Seriously?” 

“In my defense, I didn’t think they were going to call you.” The kid freaking whines - whine- at him. 

“They said you listed me as your emergency contact, of course they were gonna call me, Jake –no” Mav put up a finger to cut Jake off “No I’m gonna call you Jake now because apparently we’re there.” 

Mav crosses his arms and really looks at Jake in all his bloodied and bruised glory. His face is a mess of dried blood from a recently-set nose and there’s a few butterfly clips on his right temple, holding cuts closed.

In true Jake Seresin fashion, the kid wears his injuries like accessories, grinning smugly at Mav like he wasn’t the reason Mav jumped out of bed at 3AM, giving half-assed explanation to a groggy Ice and drove all the way into town because the local hospital called about one Jake Seresin and ‘we think he might have a concussion, so can you please come in and collect him as his emergency contact, Mr. Mitchell?’. 

“I really didn't think they were gonna call, honest.” Jake’s voice sounds uncomfortable, -embarrassed even- as he squirms on the bed, his feet knocking and shuffling on the floor.

“Javy’s my primary contact but he’s deployed and I-,” Mav tilts his head and watches Jake struggle with his words, still looking anywhere but at Mav. “Look, they needed a secondary contact and I couldn’t think of anyone else, alright. It was – well it doesn’t matter who it was before this - after the - the thing, you just seemed like the best option I have to complete the checklist, you know? You weren’t supposed to find out.” 

The words trailed off in a barely coherent mumble. Mav mentally reviews all that he knows about Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin - from the personnel files he’s read, from what he’s heard through the grapevine, from the stories that Bradley told him about his years in the Academy and the years leading up to the mission (all the years that they lost and trying to recover). 

“Okay.” Jake whips his head up and Mav winces in sympathy at the quiet hiss the kid lets lose. 

He steps up closer to Jake and touches the side of his face, pushing the short blond hair aside to inspect the little cuts in his hairline - looks like the doctor managed to pick out all the glasses from the wound. Jake is still and quiet as Mav continues his inspection, his other hand coming up to cradle Jake’s jawline and turning his head this way and that. 

“Okay?” Green eyes look up at him for the first time and he reads the nervousness and disbelieve in them. Mav maintains careful eye contact and nods firmly. 

“Okay -but move me up to primary,” Mav tuts and punches Jake’s shoulder when it looks like the kid is about to argue. “I’m not getting deployed anytime soon - or at all,” he snorts, “It just makes more sense. You can tell Javy to bring up his complaining to me next time he’s stateside - I’ll feed him Ice’s lasagna to make up for it.” 

Jake works his jaw a few seconds, mouth set in stubborn line as he stares off to the side again. With Mav standing and Jake sitting on the low hospital bed, Mav watches blond lashes flutter and flicker as green eyes dart every which way. He could almost hear Jake's thoughts clashing and clamouring on top of each other make sense out of the situation.

From beyond the curtain, Mav can just make out the conversations around them - sounds like the graveyard shift is ending soon. 

Mav absentmindedly picks out a stray thread from Jake’s hair. “You can think about it at home.” He pretends not to see the way Jake jerks to attention at that. “There’s a guest room with your name on it and Ice will be expecting you anyway.” He pats Jake’s shoulder. “I’ll see about getting you discharged and your meds - instructions for concussion, all the good stuff.” 

“Captain Mitchell-” Jake’s face is painfully open for Mav to read. “You don’t have to-”

“Of course not.” Mav cringes - too harsh, back track back track, “I want to. Please, Jake,” He grips the back of the kid’s neck and squeezes gently. “Let us take care of you, alright? I’m taking this emergency contact thing seriously.”

“Like you take Cyclone seriously?” The joke is weak, but Mav allows it - with grace even.

“Like I take being Bradley’s emergency contact seriously.” Mav lets that sink in for a few heartbeats. “I’ll talk to the nurses.”

He ruffles Jake’s hair, noting the docility and leaves the kid (his kid now? oh shit okay Note: talk to Ice about a new kid though to be fair they thought they were eventually getting this one through Bradley) to his thoughts.

[anxiously-going]

Found this piece tonight. Apparently I had decided to do something with my AU idea of Bones being a doctor in the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV

Len cautiously stepped into the holding cell and crouched down beside the bed to try to get to the kid’s eye level. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. The kid simply stared back in guarded confusion. “They never should have done this to you. This is wrong and I’m so sorry. I’m gonna undo these restraints, okay? But I need you to be still, okay? I don’t want you pulling on them and getting hurt. I bet they already hurt, don’t they?”

The kid hesitated then nodded almost imperceptibly.

Len nodded and let out a sigh. “I’m gonna undo them, but I’m gonna go slow, okay? If you were already tuggin’ on ‘em you probably bruised yourself up, there might even be a few fractures, alright? And the last thing I wanna do is hurt you while I’m tryin’a help you. So I’m gonna start with the middle one, then do your right side, then your left, okay?” he waited for another nod from the kid then stood. “My name’s Len, by the way.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I am. I’m a family doctor from Georgia.” Len answered and carefully loosed the strap over the teen’s chest then tossed it over the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna start with your wrist, okay? Don’t punch me.” He offered a smirk, but the kid didn’t seem interested in the joke.

“Why are you here?”

“I was recommended by Commander Christopher Pike-”

“Is he here?!” the kid tried to bolt upright, was held back by his wrists and fell back, biting back a loud groan of pain and tired rolling onto his right side.

“Easy, kid, easy!” Len urged.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarled when Len rested a hand on his chest, trying to push him to lie flat.

Len raised his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Where is he? I wanna talk to him.”

“I’m sorry, kid, he’s not here. He’s still on earth. Kid, listen I’m really worried about that arm, I think you might have stress fractures from the restraints. It’s really important that I get those off and that we get regen going so we get you feeling better.”

“I wanna talk to him.”

Len pulled out his communicator. “McCoy to-”

“Security is on their way,” a voice interrupted.

“If a single security guard steps into this room I’m gonna put ‘em on a stretcher!” Leonard snarled. “My patient knows Commander Pike and would like to speak to him. Get communication back to earth as soon as possible.” he snapped the communicator shut before the voice could argue. “Can I please fix your wrist now?” Len waited for the kid to nod then stepped forward and gingerly picked up his hand. “Alright, kid, this is probably gonna hurt coming off just try to be still, okay?”

The teen audible winced and really tried not to squirm.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Len murmured. He laid the hand back down once the restraint was off. “Okay, I’m gonna get the other ones, then I’ll take a scan on your wrist and we’ll go from there, okay? And after that I’m gonna help you sue the pants off’a whoever did this for medical malpractice and negligence. So. You gonna let me keep caliin’ ya ‘kid’ or are you gonna tell me your name?” He tossed aside the right ankle restraint.

“Didn’t you read my file?”

“I did. You have quite the laundry list of allergies by the way. But I don’t want to assume you go by ‘James’ and I’d rather call you by what you're comfortable with. And if that’s ‘kid’ that’s fine too.”

“JT.”

Len glanced up from the left ankle.

“You can call me JT.”

“Nice to meet you, JT.” He set to work on the last restraint. “My name is Leonard, so you can see why I go by Len. Or McCoy, that’s my last name. I’m gonna take a scan on your arm now, okay?”

JT watched him carefully as he ran the tricorder wad over his arm. “How bad is it?” he asked when Len sighed.

“It’s not bad as far as breaks go. You’ve got some stress fracture that…actually looks kinda old. It’s nothing we can’t fix. Just makes me angry that you have them at all. Honestly, kid, you're gonna need to be careful for a while. Right now you're pretty severely malnourished, so your bones are weak and they're gonna break a lot easier than they normally would. We can do some diet modifications and treatments like that, but it's still gonna take some time before you've gotten your strength back."

"Are you some kind of bone specialist?"

Len gave an amused smile. "What makes you ask that?"

"You're the only one who checked them."

Len's smile faltered. "No, I'm not a specialist. But they are pretty important. Wouldn’t be able to hold a shape without them. Have you ever had any regen done for a broken bone?”

JT shook his head and Len let out another sigh.

“Alright, I’m gonna explain how it works because I have a feeling you're not gonna be a fan. So to start, it’s not actually your wrist bones that are fractured. They’re bruised, but the actual fracture is right here-” He held up his hand, palm out and touched each side of his arm just under the wrist “-in your radius and your ulna. There was uneven pressure because of where the restraints ended and that’s what caused the fractures. Now, the regenerator is going to go over your hold wrist and part of your arm, kinda like a brace. It’s gonna have to stay on for probably a good two hours. And you gotta keep the arm still while it’s on, alright? I’m not gonna lie to you, JT, it probably won’t be very comfortable, and it’s okay to feel anxious about it. Especially considering what those...fools did to you before. But that is the best way to take care of it. If you really don’t want to do that I can put an old fashioned cast on you, but then it’s gonna take about six weeks for it to heal and you’ll have to wear the cast 24/7 that way.”

“Can’t it just heal on its own?”

“Not without some kind of support to prevent the fractures from getting worse. It’s a miracle they aren’t worse already. Your body needs calcium for a lotta things, JT. One of those things is muscle movement. When you’re not getting enough calcium through your diet your body starts breaking down your bones to get it. That’s why your bones are so brittle right now. The only other thing we can do is I could sedate you-”

“No.”

“Okay. I won’t do that then. How ‘bout this. We try the regen first, we’ll leave it on for...half an hour. If you’re feelin’ a little overwhelmed we’ll take it off and you can take a break and we’ll go from there about and see how you feel. Maybe we get it going and you feel like you can do a little longer, great! We’ll do it for longer. Maybe we just do this in short bursts. It might take a little longer than just the two hours that way, but if it makes you more comfortable we can do that.”

"We can try it," J.T. agreed.

[sortofanobsession]

Roy/Jaime fic idea: It's a normal morning and Jaime's getting ready to head out to training. He's just opened the door to step out when he stops dead in his tracks in horror because there standing on the other side of the door is a tiny little toddler with red stains all over her footed onesie, staring back at him, clutching her blanky. Jaime's understandably gonna be late to training.

A/N: This one was an emotional ride that just kept getting longer and longer. But I hope you all enjoy it.

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Word Count: 5k+

Paring: Roy x Jamie (Romantic), Jamie x Ted (platonic), Roy x Ted (platonic), Keeley x Jamie (platonic, formerly romantic), Jamie x AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic, duh, but Sam and Jamie are besties)

Content warning: Child endangerment, blood, kidnapping (not by our boys), hospitals, police, orphan child, ptsd, a very scared child, fear, angst, worry, manipulation.

Tiny Morning Visitor

Roy had told Jamie to meet him at the Dog Track for training that morning. And Jamie had every intention to go, but he had opened his door to find a small child. The baby looked sleepy until they looked up at Jamie and started crying. Jamie has a crazy big soft spot for kids, probably because his childhood was so fucked up, and they were just so helpless and innocent. This one was in a little yellow-footed onesie with a bear on it, clutching a blanket. The onesie and the blanket were covered in red stains. Jamie was immediately horrified. He gets his phone out of his pocket with one hand as he carefully picks up the small child with the other. He dials 999 and waits. He has cameras because his dad has done shit, like break into his house. So he'll check those when the police are there. The child buries their tiny face into his jumper and sobs.

Roy is angry. Jamie had said he'd meet him at the pitch but didn't show. After 20 minutes, Roy got in his car with every intention to drive to Jamie's and shout at him. Whatever anger he had vanished when he saw the police cars pulled up outside of Jamie's home. Fear courses through Roy. If anything happened to Jamie, Roy didn't know what he would do. Jamie had been a persistent annoyance in his life. But he was an annoyance Roy enjoyed having around. Roy was out of the car faster than he thinks he ever has been and was stopped by a cop at Jamie's door, but before Roy could even fight the guy, he was being let in. 

"Figured you'd come round," Jamie says when Roy gets to his living room. Roy is shocked when he sees a toddler sitting on Jamie's lap being looked over by medics while Jamie apparently talks to the police. 

"And you don't know anything else?" The annoyed cop asks.

"I already told you she just showed up. I gave you the files from the cameras. I don't know anything else." The cop steps away to make a phone call. 

"What the fuck happened?" Roy asks. Moving to stand where the cop had been. And Roy's heart breaks when he looks at the toddler's tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. She has a white-knuckled grip on Jamie's fingers and clearly has no interest in going anywhere. He gets a glare from the medic for his language. 

"Sorry," he mutters.

"They took her blanket as evidence, and she isn't happy about it," Jamie says like somehow, that is what Roy is asking about and not the fact Jamie had missed training because a fucking child showed up on his doorstep. 

"Jamie," Roy says, doing his best not to shout at the striker. He knew how easily little kids could spook, and by the way she gripped Jamie's fingers in one hand, and her other fist was wrapped up in Jamie's jumper. She is probably one wrong move away from screaming her head off. "Where did she come from? How did she get here?"

"I have no idea. She was just there at my door when I was leaving to meet up with you. Nearly ran her over." It's quiet again as Roy tries to figure out what to say or do. Roy and Jamie both wince when the medic goes to pick the child up, and she screams. She screams until her face is beet red. Reaching towards Jamie. Roy can't watch this. He takes the child back from the frazzled medic and sets her back on Jamie's lap. Only now, it's Roy's fingers she grips in one hand, and Jamie's jumper is back in her little fist. Roy sighs. He understands the medic just wants to take the child to the hospital, but no one wants to upset the child any more than she already is. Eventually, despite Roy's protest, Jamie agrees to go with her if it will help. And the medic figures it's better than nothing. Roy thinks the entire thing is insane. 

"Jamie," Roy says when the medic leaves them for a minute. "You don't even know her." Roy manages to carefully extract his fingers from her grip, using his keys as a temporary distraction. He didn't care if she set his alarm off. The neighbors could go fuck themselves. If they weren’t already watching out their windows or standing in their gardens because of the cop cars. Yeah, fuck them. 

"I know, but she doesn't have anyone else right now. One day not training isn't gonna ruin my career, yeah?" Jamie says. "Look at her, Roy." And Roy does. He remembers when Phoebe was that tiny and would just latch on to him and not want to let go. Even when she was a little older, she'd cry if Roy left. Broke his heart every time. Phoebe was easier to deal with now. Buy her ice cream, and she's good. But this little one can't be much older than two, maybe younger. She looked like she was cutting a tooth the way she would occasionally tug Jamie's jumper into her mouth. Probably a molar, and he remembered how exhausted his sister was those days. Not that Jamie seemed to mind. She was small, teething, and terrified. She wouldn't be letting go anytime soon, and Roy knew it. Roy sighed. Fuck. No matter how this ended, Jamie was going to end up heartbroken. He gets too attached too quickly. Roy asks the medic to take her to the Emergency department at the hospital where his sister works and assures them that his sister will help with both the toddler and Jamie. The medic seemed relieved. Roy tells Jamie he'll meet them there. 

"She's cute. I'll give you that," Roy's sister, Dr. O’Sullivan, says when she meets Jamie at intake. 

"She is," Jamie agrees. 

"How about we get her looked at?" she says. Jamie looks uneasy. He looks back at the medic, that is talking to a nurse and giving her details. "You can stay with her. It'll be easier for everyone that way." 

"Right, yeah," Jamie follows her to a room. 

"You might want to get comfy. You might be here awhile.” She holds the crying toddler as Jamie takes his jumper off and tosses it on the bed since the little girl had already been chewing on it. She clearly liked the material. Jamie sits on the edge of the bed. "There we go," the doctor says as she hands the little one back to Jamie. Jamie hands the toddler his jumper, and she quiets to simple sniffles. 

"She's probably your tiniest number-one fan," Roy's sister grins. Jamie gives a nervous laugh. 

"Won't lie," Jamie says. "Kinda glad it's you looking after her."

Dr. O'Sullivan grins. "Could say the same thing, Tartt. I already know you're good with kids. Phoe thinks you're the best player out there now that Roy's on the sidelines. That and she thinks you make my brother happy. So I'm sure this little one has been in the best hands under the circumstances." Jamie is stunned. He knew Phoebe likes Jamie. She thought he was funny. He didn't know she spoke so highly of him.

"Phoebe's great, smartest, and probably gonna be the richest if she ever gets your brother to pay his tab."

She laughs. "Oh, she could rent the poshest flat this side of the Thames with what he owes."

The nurse joins them and fills her in, most of which she apparently knew already. 

"Roy gave you a heads up?" Jamie asks as the doctor rolls a stool over and takes a seat. She focuses on the little girl with a soft smile. She skillfully extracts one little hand at a time and partially removes the onesie. Setting it aside, most likely to be collected as evidence like the blanket. 

"Called right before you got here," She nods. It goes quiet save for her talking sweetly to the child as she examines her. It's a slow process by the way she refuses to let go of Jamie or his jumper. Even more so when he actually has to fill out forms. But the nurse sets them on the bed beside him, and he fills out what he can as the doctor works. The hardest part is when the nurse has to draw blood, and Jamie hates every second of it. The little girl cries the whole time. And she doesn't stop after it's over until the doctor tells him to try bundling her up in his jumper.

"She's probably cold too," the doctor admits. "I'll have someone bring her something from pediatrics."

"Thanks," Jamie says.

"Sit tight, be back in a bit."

A nurse brings a little set of pajama-like clothes for the toddler and helps Jamie get her dressed. The little girl settles back in, using Jamie's jumper as a substitute blanket as the nurse leaves. There is nothing Jamie can do now but wait.

Roy gets an oddly warm feeling in his chest when he gets to the ER and is told where to find Jamie. The little girl sits on Jamie's lap again as he sits on the edge of a hospital bed. She is staring up at Jamie with those big eyes of hers as he quietly talks to her and rubs her back. It is something that will be seared into Roy's memory forever. Jamie is being so sweet and gentle. He doesn't even notice Roy, but that's not a surprise. When Jamie gives his focus to something off the pitch, he usually goes all in. He has nothing but a single-minded focus if he genuinely cares about it. And he clearly cares about his commitment to keeping this wayward tot calm. Roy guesses he's sort of committed, too, seeing as he went to the fucking shops at 5 a.m. to get stuff he knows she needs but the hospital might not provide. And he should probably stop standing there like a fucking idiot staring at Jamie like a fucking creep. He knocked on the door frame. Jamie looks up and smiles, genuinely fucking smiles, when he sees Roy kept his word and showed up. Roy does not know how to feel about all that. It makes his stomach flip when Jamie looks at him like that. 

Jamie knows Roy has no obligation to be there. This has nothing to do with training or the team other than the fact it involves Jamie. But Roy is there, and Jamie is happy to see him. Because Jamie may look at ease as he focuses on keeping the kid calm, but he is terrified inside. He has no idea what he is doing. He could be doing everything wrong, but Roy will tell him what to do. Roy wouldn't let him fuck up. He never does. And Jamie adores him for that. Roy is reliable in a way very few people have ever been in Jamie's life. Roy never misses training. Roy takes helping Jamie be better, on and off the pitch, very seriously, and it makes Jamie want to be better. And Jamie can't help the way his heart beats faster when Roy looks at him. When Roy studies him. Fucking smiles at him and tells Jamie he did a good job or that he's a good lad. Fuck, that does things to Jamie that Jamie should feel ashamed of. But he isn't. Because he's Jamie Tartt, and he doesn't have a lot of shame. Almost any day, Roy could command Jamie to his fucking knees, and as long as he calls him a good lad, he would go. Roy could do an infinite amount of nasty things to him, and Jamie would fucking thank him. Fucking hell, he is in a goddamn hospital with a toddler clinging to him. Jamie needs to get his shit together. 

"What's in the bag?" Jamie asks.

"Here," Roy says as he pulls out a small and very soft-looking blanket. Before he can fully hand it to Jamie, a little hand grips it tight. He also gets a dummy/pacifier and teething ring out of the bag and sets them on the bed beside the pair. He leaves the pack of diapers in the bag and hopes they don't actually need those because that is not something he ever thought he would have to teach Jamie Tartt. He sets the bag on the table before sitting in one of the chairs in the room.

"Where did you get these?" Jamie asks as he looks at the dummy/pacifier. He picks it up. She reaches out for it, and Jamie lets her have it. 

"Shop. You said they took her blanket. It's hit and miss if she would have accepted it, but I guess she's not too picky." Roy points at the discarded jumper. "And the other stuff is to spare your jumper from being a drooly mess. Not that you probably care, but she's going to have to let go eventually. At least now she has something to help keep her calm."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because Phoebe might be 8 now, but she was that small, 6 or 7 years ago. And it's not something you forget when you end up having to help."

"So you've done all this before," Jamie says.

"He has," they look up to see Roy's sister at the door.  "And he was pretty good at it."

"Phoebe's always been an easy kid to care for," Roy insists. 

"For you, maybe. You're her favorite person." 

Jamie watches the siblings and doesn't miss the small smile on Roy's face. 

"She's a good kid," Roy states. 

"She is, and thankfully, this one seems to be too. Nothing broken. A few bumps and bruises but nothing serious from not being the best at walking on her own and somehow still managing to get to Jamie's door from wherever she was. She wasn't out too long in the cold on a damp and gloomy morning like this one. Her tiny immune system might have taken a hit if you two didn't get up at an ungodly early time to train. Who knows how long she would have been out there." 

Jamie looks stricken at that idea, and Roy internally curses because, yeah, Jamie is already too attached. And Roy is too, because he wants to find whoever is supposed to be in charge of this sweet little girl and give them a fucking lesson. She is too small and too sweet to be anything but tucked away safely in a warm bed at 5 a.m. She shouldn't be clutching a blanket Roy brought her in one hand and Jamie's shirt in the other. Fuck, under any other circumstances, Roy would fucking melt at that scene, but this was a child that could have died if Roy wasn't a twisted prick that insisted Jamie train at 4 a.m. A child that is going to have to let Jamie go, and Jamie is going to have to watch her leave. Everyone is going to end up heartbroken. Only the little girl is young enough that she won't remember it. But Jamie will. Roy will too. 

"I'll let the police know she is healthy, and someone will come to get her so you guys can head to training." She disappears back into the hall. 

"She's lucky," Roy says. "A toddler that young could have gotten really hurt without anyone looking after her."

"What do you think will happen to her?"

"Depends," Roy says. And fuck, the way Jamie holds her tighter, and she tucks her little forehead into his neck. Completely content now she has a blanket and dummy. She looks like she might actually be falling asleep. 

"On what?" Jamie asks, his tone soft and quieter than it has been before. And part of Roy's cold heart melts. Fuck, he wants to crawl up there with them. Hold them and protect them from the fucking world. And that is not something Roy was prepared to feel. He has to clear his throat before he answers Jamie. 

"On how and if they find her parents. If they find them and they are injured or some shit, they might get her back. They might be shitty parents, and she ends up going to live with a family that doesn't let her wander around Richmond alone at 4 a.m. They might not find them at all. Hard to know until it hits the news. And it will. Lost toddler shows up at famous footballer’s front door. That's headline news." Jamie frowns at what Roy has told him. "Hey," Roy says as he stands up and gives in a tiny bit to that feeling of wanting to protect them. Jamie is someone that needs reassurance often. Roy knows that. Especially if the truth of the matter is hard to swallow, and it is. "Whatever happens, she is lucky you found her. You did good, Tartt. Now you have to let the police do their job. Might not be easy, but it's for the best." Roy can't resist the urge to fix the messy dark curls of the little girl. She looks up at him as he does. Jamie does too, and fuck, that is a goddamn sight Roy won't soon forget. He ignores the urge to just fucking kiss Jamie. Because that is absolutely not happening. That would be taking advantage of a situation where Jamie is worried and looking up to Roy for help. Roy cannot fucking do that. 

Jamie watches as Roy's fingers gently work through tiny curls on the sweet little girl's head. Her eyes are half closed as she resists the urge to sleep. Jamie might cry. It is such a soft and sweet gesture. On top of all the things Roy had already gone out of his way to do for them—the things he did for her. Jamie's heart beat wildly in his chest. And Jamie wonders what it would feel like to have Roy's fingers in his hair. 

Roy's hand finds Jamie's shoulder and squeezes like he can tell Jamie is more a bundle of frayed edges and nerves than a confident human being. "She has a chance to go home or find a new one that might not have happened if you hadn't been on your way out. Just don't get too attached. She can't be alone in this world. Someone has to know who she is."

Roy was half right. Someone did know who she was. Her name was Maggie Briner, and she had been taken from the scene of an accident by a mentally unstable man earlier that morning. But unfortunately, her parents had passed away in the accident. She had a few distant relatives that didn't have the means or want to take her. Jamie hated the idea of her going into the foster care system. A few days after it happened, Jamie couldn't stop thinking about her, and he'd asked Roy at least a dozen times if he thought she was okay. And Roy couldn't shake the image of Jamie Tartt holding the adorable little girl. It had done something to Roy he hadn't expected. Made him think of family, but not one he had. Not just of Phoebe. But of one he wants now more than anything. And with Jamie fucking Tartt, no less. 

"I mean, I can afford a nanny. I have a stupid big house and-" 

He's cut off by Roy being in his space. His movements were slow so that Jamie could easily move away if he wanted to. His motives are clear when one hand grips Jamie's face gently. "That's a terrible but beautiful idea," Roy says before he kisses Jamie. Jamie's shock wears off quickly, and he kisses Roy back. One hand gripping Roy's jacket, the other on the back of his neck. 

"You going to help me?" Jamie asks, his tone filled with hope and promise. 

"Fucking can't let you do it alone. You don't know jack shit about kids," Roy says. 

"Good thing Roy fucking Kent is an expert then," Jamie grins. 

"Fucking right," Roy says. And Jamie grins before kissing Roy again.

Roy vocally supports Jamie's efforts to adopt Maggie over the next few weeks. They spend hours and hours together working on it. Jamie jokes that nights of turning a spare bedroom in Jamie's flat into a bedroom fit for a growing toddler are date nights. And they are, in a way. They get dinner. They talk. They plan a whole damn future for the kid. One that they both secretly hope they are both part of. It's wildly optimistic, and Roy hopes Jamie doesn't end up losing her case. So Roy does his best to help the world see the version of Jamie Tartt he does. One that has grown up and is ready and willing to take on this responsibility. They even got supervised visits with her. And Roy would watch the supervisor as Jamie would see Maggie. They always seemed pleased at the way Jamie would light up like the Dog Track for an evening match. And so would Maggie. She would talk in her broken toddler English. Happy to see him. Jamie would pick her up and hold her tight. Roy would play with her, and his heart would warm when she smiles at him. Roy even watched his language when there. If he had to behave for this to work, he would. He wasn't going to ruin this for Jamie.

 The team is mostly shocked when Jamie tells them he and Roy are together and that Jamie is trying to adopt Maggie. A few even think it's a joke until Roy informs them that it is, in fact, not a fucking joke. That resulted in a lot of paperwork with Laughing Liam in HR. Roy backs Jamie publicly and even admits to the press that Jamie already adores her, and so does Roy. A presser that Rebecca and Higgins had organized when asked by Jamie and Roy. The press asks a ton of questions because having a coach and player not only out as queer but as a couple was unheard of. But Roy insisted it changed nothing for the team and for Roy as Jamie's coach. He still expected the same level of effort he did from all the players. No special fucking treatment from Roy Kent. He already trained Jamie one-on-one. Pushs him harder than he does the others, but only because Jamie asks him to. Jamie is a fucking great player, and he'll be an equally fucking good parent. Roy even agrees in court to help him since he already knows what he's doing and wants to be there with them.

Things took and turn when a cousin of Maggie's mum showed up and wanted to take Maggie. For a while, it seemed like she might actually do it. It had crushed Jamie that he might not get to take Maggie home. And Roy had braced himself for the letdown. Jamie would really need him if that happened. When the adoption team looked into the woman's home, it didn't seem like she was very serious about it at all. She had roommates, and when they were asked about the woman, they gave their honest opinion. The woman hadn't cared about the child until it became publicly known that Jamie Tartt was involved. That this could be her way to get some easy money because if Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent actually cared about this child, they would probably be willing to pay for her. The adoption team had confronted her, and she didn't deny it. Jamie had been so relieved he cried when the judge denied her request. 

The day the judge approves Jamie's adoption of Maggie, the team throws a party. Unfortunately, they didn’t warn Roy or Jamie before they did. Everyone was excited to finally meet her. Maggie Tartt was officially part of the Richmond family. Roy cursed all of them as he covered Maggie's ears when they walked into Jamie's flat to loud cheering. You would think that it would be hard to take Roy Kent seriously as his big hands covered tiny ears, but nope. He was more terrifying than usual since the loud noise and number of strangers had been enough to scare the 21-month-old girl. And to everyone’s surprise, she wanted Roy. So Roy ended up taking her into the kitchen, leaving a still mostly happy Jamie to deal with the team.

Higgins and Ted follow Roy into the kitchen to make sure they are okay.

"I know, sweetheart," Roy says quietly as he gently wipes away tears with her blanket. "No one's going to hurt you here, I promise." Ted just watches as his fearsome and intimidating assistant coach bounces a toddler on his hip.  It was a strange dichotomy. 

"I told them she was too young for a surprise party, but they thought Jamie would like it," Higgins says. "She has been through far too much in such a short time to enjoy it."

"You're not wrong," Roy says as he shifts her so her head rests on his shoulder. "Unlike you, Higgins, they all share half a brain, and no one has custody of it today." 

Ted laughs, which has Maggie focusing on him. 

"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Ted says when she smiles at him from behind her dummy.

Roy huffs a laugh. "Of course she likes you." 

"Well, I'm honored. She clearly has good taste of she showed up here. Must have known Jamie was one for spontaneous commitments."

"Spontaneous commitments," Roy actually laughs. "That is by far the nicest way anyone has put it so far. My sister called it the dumbest good decision we could make, but she was all for it. Probably helped persuade the adoption team. She's good at that. Phoebe is dying to meet her already. She already has plans for her little cousin."

"Oh, they are going to be the best of friends," Higgins says with a soft smile. 

"Like a hound dog and fox in a Disney movie," Ted grins. Roy shakes his head. 

"You ready to meet a bunch of idiots that will spoil you rotten?" Roy says, looking down at the child in his arms. He is mostly sure Maggie isn't going to have a full-blown meltdown. They all rejoin the party. 

"All good?" Jamie asks. Accepting the now happy little girl when she reaches for him. Both are smiling. 

Roy grunts. He glares at the team until Jamie elbows his ribs. "They mean well."

"So did Magneto and Ozymandias," Roy grumbles.

"Did you just make not one but two cultural references?" Ted asks. 

"Of course, you agree with supervillains from comic book movies," Isaac says. 

"To be fair, both have been seen as heroes," Sam says. And the team ends up debating the morals of comic book characters, and Roy is fine with that because the focus is no longer on Maggie. She is already starting to fall asleep as she settles into her new life. 

A week or so after Maggie is moved in, Roy does too. Because it's easier to help Jamie parent if he is actually there as the other parent. The press has a fucking field day again. Roy doesn't give a shit as long as they stay far enough away from all three of them. And Jamie is too happy to care. Phoebe spends as much time with her new cousin as possible. Roy has to actually tell her no on more than one occasion because Phoebe still has school. He has to remind her that Maggie isn’t going anywhere. Roy’s sister is delightfully amused. Keeley had gone overboard when Jamie had asked her to be Maggie’s godmum. She’s the happiest godmum that exists. Thankfully, Sam is a far more practical godparent. He dotes upon his godchild, more so by spending time watching shows that would be mind-numbing for adults and teaching her languages. Roy gets an app to learn them as well. He can’t have his kid knowing languages that he doesn’t, at least not this young. She can study whatever she wants when she’s older. He just wants to be able to share things with her.

And it goes relatively well until they have an away match in Manchester. Keeley is a huge help with most match days. She helps watch Maggie. Even makes sure Maggie has all the little Richmond gear that matches Jamie's kit for every possible weather event and in sizes she'll grow into. Jamie cried the first time his daughter wore his number. And Roy did admit she was fucking adorable. This match day had the added benefit of Georgie and Simon getting to meet Maggie in person. Not just facetime calls on Jamie's phone. They had special tickets to sit with Keeley and Rebecca in the box. Roy insisted Maggie's tiny little ears be protected any time she was at a match. And Jamie had thought she looked so tiny with the protective ear covers on, but she thankfully left them on. Roy had been worried she'd take them off. Kids, especially that young, couldn't understand why these things were important. On her bad days, she wouldn’t wear them, which meant she stayed home with her carer. But he didn't have to fight her on it for this particular match, so he'd let her go with them. Something Roy regretted when James Tartt, Sr. tried to get between his ex-wife and Keeley when she and Maggie met Georgie at the gate. Georgie held Maggie tight as Keeley called for security. James was apparently not a fan of his son playing house with his fucking coach and wanted his opinion known. Simon stepped in, but it was a volatile situation. Roy had been called out to help handle it, and he fucking did so by slamming his fist into James Tartt's face, warning him if he ever went near his family again, he'll be in a hospital bed instead of handcuffs. Roy then took his daughter into his arms and led Keeley, Jamie's mum, and stepdad, down to the locker room with him. James Tartt was hauled off by security. They usually didn't let Maggie in the locker room before a match to keep the team focused on the game, but no one blamed him this time. They would have been distracted no matter what. At least there, all Maggie's unofficial uncles that adored her could see she was okay. Dani Rojas has the biggest soft spot for her. He thought she was the most adorable little thing in the world. Jamie had easily agreed.

Jamie was quick to take her while the medic looked over Roy's bruised knuckles, and Keeley and Beard dealt with security. 

"My sexy little baby has his own sexy little baby now," Georgie grinned when Jamie handed Maggie to his mum so he could finish double-checking his kit. Jamie smiled at that. He tried to focus on how happy his mum and Simon were to meet Maggie—tried not to think about his father. He wasn't going to be like his father. He hated his dad and tried to ruin everything again. Jamie was going to be the best dad he could possibly be, but not to spite his dad. No, he was going to be a good dad because it's what Maggie deserves. He wants her to have a home with loving parents, and the fact Roy was right there beside him made Jamie feel like the luckiest guy in the world. He wasn't going to let his dad tarnish that. Especially today, since his mum was there. Almost his whole family was there, everyone but Phoebe and her mum. And Phoebe got to see Maggie at least once a week. This was a great fucking day. His dad couldn't take that happiness from him if he tried because Jamie will fight him for it. He was done letting his father control him. He had a family to protect and a reason to fight now. He'd fight tooth and nail to keep his family in his life. Roy and Maggie are his world. And no one was going to take that from him. And it didn't feel like a burden, especially knowing that Roy is by his side and has already proved he'd take the world on for them. He'd take on the press and put James Tartt, Sr in his place. Nothing was going to get between Roy Kent and his family, and walk away unscathed. Nope, the world thought Roy Kent was a hardcore brawler on the pitch. God help anyone that got near his family in public. Paparazzi would find he has a terrifying edge to him when it came to protecting those he loved. And they so much as approach Jamie and Maggie or even Phoebe and Roy was right fucking there like a goddamn grizzly bear wrecking their shit and protecting what was his. And Jamie fucking loved every second of it because Roy would just want to hold them close after that. Tell them they were his everything, and he'd destroy anything or anyone for them. It was like a fairytale, and Jamie never wanted it to end.

[geminigirl0298]

All The Kings' Men

Relationship: Dark!Bucky x Reader, King!Loki x Reader

Summary: The Odinson Kings take over Midgard, appointing commanders to help them colonize the entire planet. Commander Barnes finds you during a raid of untouched lands and claims you as his own. You endure months of torture and abuse at the metal hand of the cruel man, and are set to suffer even more when he sends you to King Loki to break you further. Upon meeting the feared man, you find that looks can be deceiving, and rumors are not always what they seem.

A/N: Thank you to my editor @green-mischief-managed for helping me with this fic! Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, very NSFW. Fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjobs, blood and gore, torture, rape, knives, death, mutilation, choking, burning, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, vaginal sex, mentions of suicide. This fic deals with dark themes such as rape, abuse and torture. If these themes make you uncomfortable, please do not read!

Previous Chapter Masterlist

CHAPTER 9

“Captain Rogers.” The man did not stir.  Captain Rogers.” This time his eyelids fluttered, yet his eyes remained closed, head lolled to the side.  Sven had stomped his face much harder than Loki thought, and he wouldn’t have cared much if time was not of the essence.  Sighing to himself, he motioned to his guard.  Dag picked up a bucket of water and splashed the contents onto the captain’s face.

He awoke gasping and wild-eyed, hands straining against the ropes binding him to the chair.  Loki smirked at his attempts to escape.  “That won’t work.  I put those ropes there myself.  Only the strongest magic can remove it, and something tells me you haven’t the capacity for that.”

“What’s going on?” Steve demanded.  “Why am I here?  And why-” he winced as the pain in his left cheek overtook him.  Sven had effectively fractured his cheekbone and broken his nose.  “He stomped on me!  That little blond boy, the fag—”

Loki held up a hand.  “I suggest you stop there before you incriminate yourself further.”

“Further?” Steve smiled then, a charming, disarming grin Loki himself had used a number of times.  “King Loki, Your Majesty, I’ve done nothing wrong.  All I’ve ever done is carry out your rule.”

“Is that so?” Loki motioned to the other guard.  Harald handed him a yellow file with a name printed on the front.  “This is Sharon Carter’s medical file.” Steve’s eyes blew wide with trepidation.  “I am entirely sure you did not know this existed, but your reaction tells me you know what’s in it.  Care to explain?”  Steve made a careless gesture with his hands.

“There’s nothing to explain.  Relationships get rocky sometimes.  Sharon understood that.”

Loki flipped the file open to a page he knew well.  He brandished a picture of Sharon Carter’s split lip and black eye in front of the captain’s face.  “This,” he snarled, “seems like more than a few little ‘rocks’ to me.  You say you carry out my rule, but this was not in my directive.  I’ve also heard you’ve not been properly allocating resources as I instructed you to do.  I don’t think you’ve been carrying out my rule at all.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Why do I—” Loki gave a harsh laugh.  “The earth is mine,” he said.  “It’s mine.  You and your humankind were hellbent on killing yourselves until my brother and I intervened.  We wanted better for you, to show you the error of your ways and have you submit to our rule.  My brother chose you because he trusted you, and this is what you do.”  He shook the file and watched Steve’s jaw clench.  “Beat and torture your women—”

“Like you haven’t done worse?” Steve shot back.  “I’ve heard the stories about you.  You’re standing here judging me, and I know that nothing in that file compares to your actions.  Everyone is afraid of you, everyone—”

The force of the slap rocked Steve’s head to the side.  Loki raised his arm to hit him again, bringing the gloved hand across his cheek with a smack that resonated in the pristine white room.  Outside the restrictive force field, the other prisoners looked on at the scene in glee.  They did not seem to mind the violence once it was not directed at them, and they especially seemed to like that the king had come to do his dirty work himself.

Loki lifted his leather-covered hand.  He sneered at the glisten noticeable in the dim light.  “You stained my glove.”  The captain spit blood on the white floor.

“So you’re going to torture me?”  Steve grinned, showing the red staining his pearly teeth.  “Have at it.  I’ve dealt with men like you.”  

“That’s where you’re mistaken, captain.  There are no men like me.”  Loki raised his hand, clenching it slowly into a fist.  He saw the confusion in the captain’s eyes, the little bloom of panic as his oxygen was slowly restricted.  A handprint-shaped dent appeared on his throat, constricting until the captain turned blue.  Loki watched his feet scramble against the floor with a wicked grin.  “Hard to breathe?  How unfortunate.”

Loki took a seat on the plush chair brought in for his comfort.  He crossed one leg over his knee and plucked the parchment out of its pocket dimension.  “I have some questions for you, and it would behoove you to answer to the best of your ability.”  He tightened his fist for just a second to get the captain’s attention.  “Is that understood?”  A nod.  “Excellent.”

Steve doubled over in relief when Loki allowed him to breathe again.  He gave the captain a few seconds before launching into his investigation.

“Why have your people been having secret meetings with Aesir?”  The captain’s eyes flickered down.  Loki lifted a hand in warning.  “Answer me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?”  Steve did not budge.  Through the wariness in his eyes, Loki could see that this was a man not easily broken.  “My spies on Midgard have told me that you, Commander Barnes, and Commander Fury have been taking meetings for the past month with known Asgardian traitors.  You have also,” he glanced down at the parchment, “recently received a large shipment that was not reported to us.  Pray tell what is in it?”

Steve was silent for a long time.  His eyes flickered between the parchment and Loki before holding his gaze.  “It’s Bruce, isn’t it?  He’s your source?  I should’ve known.”

“I am the one asking the questions here.”

The captain rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure she’s filled your head with lies too.  What did she say?  That Buck hit her?”  Steve scoffed.  “And you believed her?”

Loki rose to his feet in a stroke of anger.  He handed the files to Harald and moved toward the captain.  “She didn’t have to tell me anything.  I saw what Barnes did to that girl.  The bruises, the cuts, the fear on her face.  He tortured her, and for what?  I don’t know where this misguided notion came from, but that is not how we treat our women here on Asgard.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”  Steve’s blue eyes blazed like the flames of hell.  “Didn’t you try to invade Jotunheim once?”  Loki’s façade faltered.  “Yeah, I thought so.  I remember when you and Thor were at odds, when you were playing the mad dictator and he couldn’t stop you.  You wanted that ice realm for yourself, and you expect me to believe you left the women untouched?”  The captain gave a nasty grin.  “I know what happens in war.”

“I have never placed my hand on a woman— or a man— in a way that was unwanted.  Do not presume to liken us to one another.”  He grabbed ahold of Steve’s flaxen hair and gave it a shake.  “I would never do what you or Commander Barnes do to your women.”

“You seem awfully concerned about our women,” Steve shot back.  “Or perhaps this is about one in particular.”  Loki saw the insinuation in the captain’s face before he voiced it.  “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?  That’s why you’re so concerned.”

Loki was taken aback.  “I—”

“Fuck, she’s such a whore.  I told Buck that, but he wouldn’t listen.  He saw the way she fought him and wanted to break her.  And he did break her, mind you.  I’m just surprised she managed to muster up enough courage to spread her legs for a bastard king—”

Steve went silent when Loki’s hand crossed his cheek.  He had let him speak for far too long.  Enough was enough.

“I’m not going to get any information from you, clearly.”  The captain glared at him.  A nice shiner, similar to the one he had given Sharon Carter, was beginning to form on his right eye.  “That doesn’t mean I can’t still have some fun.”

Loki hit him again and again, curling his hand into a fist to increase the force of the blows.  Blood and bruises sprang up along the captain’s once handsome face.  Red splattered along the clean walls of the cell with every contact of his fist.  He hoped what he had read about the man’s vast capacity for pain was true.  It would be a shame to have him pass out too soon.

“My king.”  Loki turned, one hand poised to strike the captain again.  Blood dripped down his leather glove and soaked the green of his sleeve.

“Yes, Harald?”

The older man’s eyes dipped to the captain and back.  “I think he’s dead.”

Loki looked upon the captain.  His face was a raw, bloody mess, and it filled him with a sick sense of satisfaction.  Still, he narrowed his eyes as he searched for any signs of life.  “His chest still moves,” he observed.  “Mouth too.  What a shock.”  Steve’s mouth was indeed moving, working sluggishly as he tried to speak.  Loki leaned forward to listen.  “What was that?  I’m afraid I didn’t hear you.”

“I said,” Steve gritted out, “that I can’t wait for them to kill you like they killed your mother.”

Loki let out a feral growl.  He placed the bottom of his boot on the captain’s chest and gave a mighty shove.  The chair fell to the ground, slamming Steve’s head against the tiled floors.  Loki straddled the man and gave a bounce, revelling in the crack that spoke of broken ribs accompanied by the captain’s grunt of pain.

“You talk too much.”  He reached into the man’s mouth and grabbed ahold of his tongue, pulling it out until it turned white at the root from the stretch.  With his other hand, he materialised his trusty dagger.  “It’s time for you to shut up.” 

Loki brought the dagger down.

ooOOoo

Sobs racked your frame as Sven carried you to your room.  You clung to his arm like a lifeline as he led you down the hall, and you could not stop crying.  Even after Kari changed your dress and tended to your wounds, and Sven took you to the king’s study, the tears would not stop. 

“Miss,” said Sven.  “Miss Dee, are you hungry?  You skipped breakfast this morning.”  He held out a platter of breads and cheeses to you.  You eyed the food and cried even harder, making Sven wince.  “Miss Dee—”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t know why I can’t stop crying.”  Pesky tears ran down your face.  You swiped at them in annoyance, cursing your tear ducts for their sudden lack of control.  A lot of the fear from Steve’s sudden arrival had faded, and anger now took its place.  It settled like a weight on your chest, burning through your dress and layers of skin until it singed your nerve endings and radiated through your body. 

“Don’t apologise, Miss Dee.  There is no need for it.  It’s all that bastard’s fault.  Men like him—” Sven’s jaw clenched, hands curling into a fist to control his temper.  “He got what he deserved.” It was only the second time you had seen him so worked up, the first being in the garden with Steve.  Sven was usually such a sweet boy that it was hard for you to conflate him with the man who stomped Steve’s face with all his might.  Then there was his previous behaviour to look at.

Sven had read you almost immediately on the bridge.  He saw your concern, sized up James’ attitude, and immediately went on the defensive:  making sure you were not left alone, keeping the horse slow, shutting down James’ complaints because you couldn’t.  And the way he handled Steve—not just protective but bordering on unhinged.

“Sven,” your voice was faint.  “You know, don’t you?”  He remained silent, so you gave a little push.  “You know what James did to me.  You knew it the moment you saw me on the bridge.”  Sven gave a slight nod, sympathy bleeding into his eyes, and your breath hitched.  “How?”

“My mother was like you.”  He leaned back, mist filling his brown eyes as he was pulled into a memory.  “She met my father when she was very young — around my age, actually— and he was a few centuries her senior.  Everyone in the village knew he was the rottenest apple in the bunch.  Always gambling and drinking his life away.  The catch was his entire family was dead, leaving him a fortune that made him the richest man in the village.”

“Is that why your mother married him?” you wondered aloud.  “For security?”  Sven’s eyes blew wide.

“No!  My mother detested the man!  She was married to him by force!  They were very poor, my mother’s family, with seven other sons to see about besides her.  I guess they thought it was easier to marry her off, so when my father took an interest in her—”

“They sold her to him,” you deduced.  “For money.” Sven gave you a sad nod.

“Mother always says we cannot judge people whose positions we were never in.  She loves her family, and still speaks to them.  Kari and I do not.  I hate them,” he seethed.  “They put her in that position and did not lift a finger to help her, even when she would show up on their doorstep covered in blood.”

The tears that filled your eyes were not for you, but for Sven.  After your ordeal, you were shocked that you could muster enough empathy to spend on someone else.  “Sven,” you reached out to touch the sleeve of his shirt, avoiding the skin-on-skin contact that made you feel like worms were beneath your flesh.  “Sven, I am so sorry.  That must have been so awful for you.”

“It was,” he admitted.  “Kari was an adult when I was born, but even she was afraid of my father.  He was strong for a degenerate, and as liberal with his fists as he was with his spirits.  My sister received a few blows when she would get in between him and my mother.”

“And did you?”  You thought back to the way he put himself between you and Steve without a second thought.  There was no doubt in your mind that he had done that before.  “Sven?”

“My father was never cruel to me, though I cannot say why.  My theory is that he hoped I would end up like him.”  Sven brought his hands together in his lap, wringing them as he spoke.  “He never respected women to begin with.  He blamed the alcohol, but I think it was him, and the drink was his excuse.  I’ve seen many a man drunk before, and they’ve never resorted to violence.

“How is your mother now?” you wished to know.  “Is she—”

“Alive?  Yes.  The harem was not built when she came to the palace seeking refuge.  Queen Frigga was on her way out with King Loki—he was just a prince at the time, actually— and she took pity on my mother.  I was only twelve when they moved us into the palace and offered her maid’s work, which my sister took up as well.  She quite enjoys the lifestyle, and she has so loved tending to you.”

You smiled as you recalled your fair-haired handmaiden.  Though they shared similar looks, you would never have guessed she was related to Sven.  “Your sister is kind.  I like people who are kind.  I’ve had very little of that in the lifetime that I do remember.  The king promised to help me find out who I am but…” You looked down at your hands.  “I guess I can’t blame him if he doesn’t.  He’s got an entire realm to govern.  I’m not so stupid as to think he would drop that just to help me, especially after the trouble I’ve caused.”

Sven shook his head.  “If King Loki has given you his word, he will surely stand by it.  Do you know how I became a guard?”  You shook your head.  “I always looked up to the king’s guard.  In some way, I guess it was my subconscious projecting, dreaming up ways for me to escape my reality by means of making me a protector.  I mentioned my interest in becoming a guard to the king once, not long after I arrived, and he remembered.  When I came of age, he came to me and offered me a chance to train with his guard.  I’ve been with them ever since.”

“That’s…”.  There really wasn’t a word to describe what you had just heard.  “That’s great, Sven.  I’m glad the king remembered.”

“Yes, I was very glad he gave me the opportunity.  King Loki continued to take care of my family even after his mother passed.”  Sven leaned closer to you.  “Between you and me, I think he pays Kari and me more than we deserve.  I’ve heard other older guards and maids discussing salary, and it is sufficient, yet far less than what we receive.”

Before you could tell Sven that he was worth every penny he earned, you heard a commotion outside the king’s study.  You and Sven shared a look.  The noise outside got louder and closer, approaching the door until Sven rose to his feet.  He barely had time to cross the room before the doors flew open and a man built like a powerlifter stalked through the door.

His eyes landed on you.  “Are you Lady Dee?”

You were afraid to answer at first.  He was one of the largest men you had seen, even bigger and taller than Steve and James combined.  Half of his blond hair was up in a ponytail, allowing you a good look at his stubbled jaw and stormy blue eyes.  You cowered as you stared back at this mountain of a man, wondering what he could possibly want with you.

“W-who are you?”

“Thor!”  King Loki strode in behind the man, all long legs and green flowing cape.  His horns were absent from his head, and you noted that his hair was curlier than you remembered.  Even without them, he radiated royalty and kingliness.  It was him, you realised, that made the title, and not what he wore.  The king carried himself with a confidence and surety that was difficult to ignore, even as he narrowed his eyes at the burly man who was apparently his brother.

“What are you doing?”  He placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder.  “You know I don’t like people in my study!”

Thor, the other king and the man who had invited the best friend of your captor to Asgard, shook his tree trunk of an arm to rid it of his brother’s restraining hand.  “Stay out of this, brother,” he ordered, and you saw King Loki’s eyes tighten.  He had just opened his mouth to retort when Thor turned to you again.  “You haven’t answered my question.  Are you Lady Dee?”

 “Yes, I am.”

“Brother, this is hardly—”

Thor gave a grand bow, drawing a look from his brother mid-sentence.  “I come to you today with my sincerest apologies.  It has been brought to my attention that I have made a grave error in judgement that resulted in your harm.  Please forgive me for my unintended slight.  I swear to you I will do everything in my power to correct it if you will give me a chance to do so.”

You blinked at the bowed head of the blond god.  This was not at all what you had expected from him.  A reaction along the lines of the dark-haired king, sure, or maybe even a worse one, but not this.  Not this humble man who all but admitted his mistakes and was pleading for a chance to rectify them.

“Um…” Your eyes flitted to Sven, who gave you an encouraging nod.  “Yeah, I forgive you, I guess.”

Thor’s head snapped up.  A wide smile broke out over his face, its attractiveness taking you back.  He looked nothing like his brother, so you guessed they must each take after a different parent. 

“Excellent!”  He reached for your hand and held it between his two larger ones.  “It is lovely to have you on Asgard, Lady Dee!  Darcy speaks very highly of you.”  Thor leaned in, adding to the sweat that had already formed on your forehead at his touch.  “I must apologise once more for inviting Steve Rogers to Asgard.  My brother told me what he did in the gardens.  I assure you he will not come near you again, and if there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to let me know.”

You can let go of my hand, for starters.  You wondered if you could even say that to a king.  Weren’t they above the law?  They were gods, for heaven’s sake.  What was a minor invasion of personal space compared to that?

“C-can you…” Beads of perspiration dotted your upper lip.  Your eyes searched the room for exits.  Instead of the doors, you managed to catch the gaze of  King Loki.  He took one look at your frazzled state and reached over to take his brother’s wrist.

“Lady Dee is still shaken from earlier today.  How about we give her a chance to rest?  We can talk to her later.” 

“Yes.”  Thor released your hand.  You held it to your chest and scooted away from him.  “Yes, you are right.  I did not think of that.”  He placed his hands on his hips, further accentuating his broad chest.  “I should go see my wife.  She has not been feeling well of late.”  He turned to his brother then, face taking on a hint of seriousness.  “I spoke to the guards.  Is it true, what you did to Steve?  Did you really—”

“Let’s talk later, brother.”  King Loki gave you a fleeting glance.  “Sven, how are you?” 

“Okay.”  The boy shuffled his feet.  “Would it be okay if I took off for the night?  I wish to go see my mother.”

Understanding bled into the king’s face.  “Of course.  Take as much time as you need.  I can look after Lady Dee until you return.”  Sven bid you goodbye, and you wished your body had recovered enough for you to give him a hug.  Thor left not long after.  He exchanged some hushed words with his brother at the door before giving you another goofy grin.  Once he was gone, you and King Loki were left alone.

“I must apologise for my brother.  He can be very enthusiastic and often forgets that people are not toys.  I suppose it comes with the territory of being a big oaf.” Amusement entered his eyes, then disappeared in a flash.  He looked over your form with a grim expression.  “Did a healer see to your arm?”

You touched the white bandage around your forearm.  “Kari did it.”  The king frowned.

“I would have preferred a healer to look at it.”  He took a tentative step toward you, watching you as though you would scamper away from him.  Your lack of skittishness seemed to please him.  “I can heal that for you if you want.”

“With your magic?” 

“Yes.”

The thought did intrigue you.  The king’s magic had caught your interest that day on the bridge, and you longed to see more of it in action.  Unfortunately, your quota for people touching you had been filled, and not even the promise of relief from the stinging pain could change that.  “No thank you,” you said quietly.

The king nodded.  “Not a problem.  I’ll have a healer look at it when you’re ready.”  He walked over to his desk and took a seat behind it— the same desk he had interrogated you from what now felt like a decade ago. 

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” you explained.  “I just—”

“Don’t want to be touched.  I understand.”  He dragged a piece of parchment across his desk and grabbed a feathered pen.  “You shouldn’t be afraid to tell my brother his touch makes you uncomfortable.  Thor is a very physical person, and even though he means no harm, he forgets not everyone is as receptive to such behaviours.”

“But you don’t?”  He looked at you.  “You don’t forget.”

The king shrugged—a human, nonchalant gesture that looked out of place on his otherwise regal frame.  “I’ve been told I read people well.  My brother is a better man than me, but he is not so astute at deciphering another’s feelings.”  He ran his eyes over the parchment once more.  “Bruce Banner has contacted me.”

“Really?” You sat up, gloomy mood pushed to the side in light of the news.  “What did he say?  Is he okay?  How’s Betty?”

King Loki furrowed his brow.  “I assume he is well, as he hasn’t told me differently.  I’m afraid I have no answers to the other questions.  Our conversation is strictly business.”

“Oh.”  It was hard to keep the disappointment out of your voice.  “What did he say?”

“Apparently, some of the commanders have been meeting with known traitors of Asgard, namely Barnes, Rogers, and Fury.  They also received a large shipment a while ago that was not disclosed to us.  My brother knows nothing of this, and we both find it suspicious.  Meeting traitors aside, that shipment concerns me.”

“And Bruce has no idea what it is?”  The king shook his head.  “What about you?  Any ideas?”

He sat the paper down with a sigh, face contorting in a muddled look.  “Considering the names of the traitors, I have some ideas.  Let’s hope I’m wrong.”  His tone made it clear that was all he was going to say on the situation. 

“What about Steve?”  You had been dying to know what happened to the man after the guards dragged him off.  “Tho—King Thor sounded concerned about him.  Where is he?”

“He is in the dungeons,” the king answered, and you swore you saw his eyes tighten.  “Rest assured, he cannot hurt you.  Even I have not been able to escape the dungeons.”

You frowned.  “Why would you need to escape the dungeons?  Have you been imprisoned before?” The king fixed you with an entertained glance.

“You ask a lot of questions, my lady.”  He held up two fingers and swirled them in the air.  You watched in fascination as the wheeled cart holding your food rolled toward you of its own accord, stopping about an inch from where you sat.  “I was informed you skipped breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”  As though the universe was out to call your bluff, your stomach decided to growl loudly.  You clapped both your hands over your abdomen to muffle the sounds.

“It seems your stomach disagrees.”  He used his magic to move the cart even closer.  “Eat.  It is well past lunch.”

The food did look good, and you had skipped breakfast in order to go outside.  Starvation was probably not the best way to deal with the disastrous results.  “I’ll eat in my room.”

The king did not even lift his head from the new book he had conjured.  “Why?  The food is already there; just eat.”

“You just said you don’t like having people in your study.”  Your finger pointed in the direction of the door.  “I just heard you tell King Thor that.”

“Airs for my brother.  He had a nasty habit of messing up my things when we were children, and he hasn’t broken out of it.  Eat.” 

You eyed the food warily.  “I—”

“Lady Dee, I invited you here myself.  If I wanted you gone, I would have already sent you away.”  His eyes flitted to the food and back.   “Eat.  I will not have you wasting away on me.”

You reached for the food before you with a shaky hand.  The minute the bread touched your tongue you nearly moaned.  All the adrenaline coursing through your body stifled your hunger until it was practically unnoticeable.  If it weren’t for the king, you probably would have gone without eating until you fainted.

“I began looking into you last night,” he told you.  “Your date of birth is unknown, but I’ve gathered birth records from three possible decades in which you could have been born, and I am matching them with our current citizen records to look for any discrepancies.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Not yet, but there are many more records to go through.  Even if this fails, it could be that you just weren’t recorded.  A lot of births go unnoticed by or hidden from the palace.”  He tapped the book with one slender finger.  “We will find out who you are.  There is nary a thing I have set my mind to that I cannot conquer.”

 The king seemed so sure of himself that it filled you with confidence too.  You leaned back into the couch and watched him scour the records.  Every time he finished a page, he would wet a finger on his tongue to turn to the next.  A comfortable silence settled over you, him reading the pages and you finishing your meal.  It gave you a chance to study his face unhindered.

You decided you preferred him without the horns.  Magnificent as they were, they added to the slight air of terror that followed him wherever he was.  King Loki was terrifying as is, but you had to admit there was something beautiful about him.  He looked nothing like his rugged, beefy brother, no.  His strength was all intellectual; quiet words and calculating glances that read a person in five seconds flat, though you were sure his physical strength was not lacking.

“Do you need something?”  His musical voice drew you out of your thoughts, green eyes holding you in place with a questioning glance.  You flushed under the intensity of his gaze.

“I was just wondering what happened to Steve,” you lied, and you were sure he knew it too.  “Your brother was about to ask you a question, and you stopped him, presumably for my benefit.  I promise you I can handle more than you think.  You don’t need to protect me from everything.”  You leaned forward.  “What did you do to Steve?”

“I cut out his tongue.”

Your eyes widened for a fraction of a second.  It was not the act that threw you, but rather how unapologetic he sounded.

“Oh.”  You gave a nod.  “Good.  He talks too much anyway.”

Your attention drifted to your food after that, letting another silence envelope you.  There was no sound in the study save for his turning pages and you placing your cup down between sips of water.  It was a chance glance at the king that confused you; he was scanning the pages as before, a hand pressed to his mouth.  Behind it, you swore he was trying to hide a smile. 

Chapter 10

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[alj4890]

Hello!

It is canon that Naveen is an unabashed gossip. We also know Ethan is practically his son, and he adores MC. But let's face it, we know those two had to be the source of a lot of gossip.

How do you think Naveen dealt with that?

Sorry this took so long. After the week with Tobias, it took me a little while to get back into "Ethan is going to end up with the MC" mode 🤣 So here's my take on how Naveen would enjoy the gossip going on about two people he cared about.

Rating: G for pure fluff

@hopelessromantic1352 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam

Masterlist

Tea Time

"Dr. Banerji." Marlene greeted as she sat down across from him.

"Ah, just the nurse I was hoping to see." Naveen set his crossword puzzle book to the side of his tray. "How's your day been?"

"Busy but good." She chuckled. "You should see the new batch of interns in action."

"And how are our second year's holding up?" He prodded.

Marlene rolled her eyes. "I know you really only want to hear about one in particular."

Naveen snorted in amusement. "You caught me. How is Casey doing?"

"She definitely got the toughest intern I've seen in years." Marlene glanced about the nearly empty cafeteria. "I think she's a harder nut to crack than Dr. Mirani."

"Zaid?" Naveen winced. "Poor Casey. But if anyone can get someone to open up, it's definitely her. I've seen her work wonders on the ones you'd least expect."

Marlene nodded while picking through her salad.

"Any other news?" He asked.

"She seems to be holding her own on the diagnostics team." Marlene pointed out. "So far, I've seen each member impressed with her ability to figure out what is wrong with the patients they treat."

"Interesting." Naveen stroked his chin. "I might have to pay a visit and see how things are going myself."

He checked the time. "Looks like my reprieve from paperwork is nearly over."

"There's one more bit of news." Marlene whispered.

The smile on her face let him know she was finally getting to the good stuff.

"Trish was walking past the office when she saw Dr. Valentine in there alone with Dr. Ramsey."

"And?" Naveen leaned forward.

"And she believes they were holding hands under the table while reading through medical files." She explained.

Naveen sat back with a grin. "Holding hands, hmm? Interesting."

He got to his feet and placed his unopened pudding cup on her tray.

"Keep me posted." He said on his way out.

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

A few weeks later...

"Baz!" Naveen called out. "Good to see you this evening."

The younger doctor turned around with a warm smile. "Naveen. It's good to see you too. How are you feeling?"

"Almost like new." Naveen teased, draping his arm around the man's shoulders. "Tell me how things are going on the team with Ethan in charge."

"They're great!" Baz exclaimed. "We are working like the well oiled machine you created."

"Umhmm." He hummed in approval.

Naveen could care less about that. He knew that Ethan would continue to succeed, never doubted it.

"And how is the newest member settling in?"

"Casey?" Baz's smile grew. "Like she's always been there."

"Really?" Naveen paused with him outside the locker room. "No awkwardness?"

"Not really." Baz stroked his chin in thought. "I mean, her first few days with us she was more quiet than she is now. She started contributing more after she talked to Ethan alone one day."

"Alone, hmm?" Naveen wondered what happened there. "Good. Very good."

He patted the young man on the back. "Glad to hear everything's going as it should."

Baz wished him a good night on his way to get changed.

Humming to himself, Naveen returned to his office. He made sure to take the long way there, pausing outside the glass doors of the diagnostics office.

He stayed somewhat in the shadows as he peered into the dimly lit room. He could see Ethan sitting there on a sofa. A rare smile was upon his face as Casey talked. With the way her hands were gesturing, she was relating a humorous story.

Naveen narrowed his eyes as he studied the man he considered a son. He hadn't seen Ethan that relaxed in quite some time, nor willing to sit there after hours to listen to someone else's story.

And then he saw Ethan reach for Casey's hand. His thumb brushed over her knuckles as the pair directed their attention to their clasped hands.

Casey's expressive face sobered. Ethan said something that made her grimace. Whatever she replied with had him hesitating before shaking his head and releasing her hand.

Naveen could almost feel the longing from here. With a slight frown of his own, he decided to maybe drop a hint or two to Ethan that one shouldn't miss out on life.

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

A few nights later...

"Ethan, my boy." Naveen rose from the table to shake his hand. "I was just about to order us some appetizers."

"Sorry I'm late. We had a last minute development on that influencer who insists on filming everything."

"Ah. And what is her diagnosis?"

"A tapeworm." Ethan pointed at the menu. "Stay away from the steak tartare."

Naveen chuckled. "Did she film that announcement?"

"She did." Ethan smirked. "And it has been the best part of my day."

Naveen laughed once more.

After they placed their orders, the two began to discuss Edenbrook's financial crisis.

"We have to keep it going." Ethan told him. "After all the work you've done over the years to make the hospital mean something more than--"

Naveen waved his hand in a dismissal fashion.

"Whatever happens, the diagnostic team will have served its purpose."

Ethan sat stunned over his cavalier attitude over what had been a huge milestone of Naveen's entire career.

"When I was dying," Naveen began, "I had a lot of time to reflect on my life."

Ethan quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

"Believe it or not, the creation of Edenbrook's revered diagnostic team didn't even factor into my thoughts."

"What?" Ethan blinked. "What did you think about?"

"All that I'd missed out on." Naveen took a sip of his wine. "Did you know, that when I was a young man that I'd planned on doing a tour of Europe?"

"No."

"I did." Naveen smiled sadly at his wine glass. "I was going to walk through the vineyards, sample the finest wines the world has created, see landmarks I'd only viewed in travel books, and simply soak in the culture."

He sighed, setting his glass down. "I never went."

"That doesn't mean you can't still go." Ethan pointed out.

"It's not the same." Naveen argued. "I'm not the same man I was forty years ago. I can't trek all over the countryside with knees aching from arthritis. I can't look at the world with those wide, young optimistic eyes I once had. I'll see everything through my years of witnessing people be ravaged by disease and self harm."

He eyed Ethan.

"And, I'll be alone. There was a young woman I was dating at the time of my big dreams. She was more than ready to drop everything in her life, like one easily does in their twenties, to spend months with me in Europe."

Naveen turned toward the window their table was near. His eyes grew distant as he tried to capture the image of his lost love's smile. "Carmen was ready to start a life with me. I kept keeping her at a distance. I put off asking her to marry me, believing I needed first to become some great all knowing doctor."

He ran his hand down his face with a slight sigh. "I didn't give her the attention she needed. So, someone else came along who did."

Ethan's brow was furrowed in thought as he listened quietly.

"Don't let my goals become yours." Naveen stressed. "You owe me nothing."

"I disagree." Ethan muttered. "I owe you everything with my career."

"You accomplished it all on your own. I didn't give it to you. You earned every bit of recognition and respect you have from me and your colleagues."

Naveen leaned forward to drive his point home.

"As someone who cares about you like you were my own son, I don't want to see you waste your life on one single endeavor. Find other things, people, places that make you happy. Let them give you warm memories when you are old. Don't end up like me with nothing but regret when you are on your death bed."

Naveen motioned for the waiter to bring him the check. "I want you to have a full life, Ethan."

"I do." Ethan argued.

"I hope you will soon see the truth." Naveen paid the waiter and pushed away from the table. "I better be-"

"What truth?" Ethan got to his feet. "What are you trying to get me to understand?"

"I can't tell you that." Naveen placed a comforting hand on Ethan's shoulder. "That's something every man has to discover for himself."

He gave him an affectionate squeeze then left Ethan alone with his thoughts.

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

A few weeks later, Naveen cornered the one doctor he suspected knew more about Ethan and Casey than anyone else.

"Dr. Trinh!" He smiled at her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good, Dr. Banerji." She slowed her pace to match his. "How are you?"

"Still going which is always a plus at my age." He replied with a wink.

She giggled. "It is at any age."

"True." He glanced at the clock. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"No sir." She grimaced somewhat. "I've been going nonstop since I got here this morning."

"Then as Chief, I insist you take a needed break." He took the folders out of her hands and set them at the nurses station. "Danny, take care of these for Dr. Trinh please."

He then took Sienna's arm and led her towards the elevator.

"But, I should really--"

"Are any of your patients in danger?" He asked.

"No." She replied. "They are all stable."

"Then we aren't arguing about it." He told her. "I'm starving and would like some company this afternoon while I eat. Would you join me for lunch?"

Sienna blinked in surprise. "Of course. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you. You're saving me from people staring at me with curious pity as to why I'm eating alone at a restaurant."

Sienna laughed. "I doubt that's why they are staring. They are probably curious what type of physician you are once they see your white coat."

"Or how that old man ended up alone." He teased. "Allow me my dramatics, Dr. Trinh. It's one of my few enjoyments in life."

"Then I guess I'll have to humor you." She said with another laugh.

"I hoped you would."

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

"Sienna, so you do see what I'm talking about?" Naveen exclaimed. "Why don't they see it?!"

"I don't know!" Sienna dropped her head back in frustration. "They are in love! But Casey won't force Ethan to make a definite decision about them and he keeps saying he can't because of their job."

"I thought I was helping them when I put Casey on the team." Naveen grumbled. "I wanted to reward her brilliant mind with more challenges after discovering what I once thought was my unsolvable illness. I wanted to give Ethan a chance to grow closer to her. I never dreamed that the man I once considered highly intelligent could end up--"

"An idiot?" Sienna slapped a hand over her mouth for insulting Dr. Ramsey in front of the one man she knew adored him.

"Precisely. The biggest idiot, save for my former self, that I've ever seen." Naveen grumbled.

"Can't you talk to him?" Sienna asked. "I know Ethan respects you."

"He does, but Ethan is very stubborn. If he has it in his mind something has to be handled a certain way, there is no swaying him differently."

Sienna placed her fingers at her temples and began to rub in slow circles. Her eyes narrowed at the table top while she tried to find a way around getting her best friend with the man she loved.

"Could you talk to Casey?" Naveen asked.

"I have." Sienna sighed. "A lot. She wants him and is holding out hope he'll finally say they can be together. At this point, I think she'd be willing to keep their relationship a secret. But from what I can tell, Ethan won't do that to her."

"Hmm." Naveen scratched at his chin. "There has to be a way forward for them."

"I know. I want there to be one." Sienna slumped back in her chair. "It can't just stay like this. Something's bound to give and I'm worried it will be nothing but heartache for both of them."

"Me too." Naveen checked the time. "We should probably head back."

Sienna began to dig around in her purse for her wallet.

"Put that away!" He scolded. "This lunch is my treat for you humoring an old man."

"That isn't necessary." Sienna smiled at him. "It was nice eating with you."

"I'm glad you think so." He eyed her for a moment. "Shall we make this a weekly meeting?"

Sienna's eyes lit up. "So we can plan a way forward for a certain pair of doctors?"

Naveen beamed at her. "Sienna, I am very happy I approved of your internship at Edenbrook."

She giggled. "Me too, sir."

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

As the weeks went by, Naveen heard more and more snippets of gossip about Ethan and Casey. With Sienna, Marlene, and an unknowing Baz keeping him updated on a weekly basis, he knew that most of what was whispered about by others was true. It seemed the two doctors were becoming a bit more daring in the affectionate touches.

Then the attack happened. Naveen was only able to briefly observe how Ethan was taking the news that Casey had been affected by the maitotoxin. He was forced, as Chief, to handle the panicked staff and removing patients from the floor.

Once he finished, he made his way up there to get an update. After speaking briefly to the group of doctors, he was hopeful to see that Tobias believed he had figured out a way to fight the poison that was doing its best to kill Casey and Rafael. Naveen didn't want to have to make two more phone calls to families to let them know they had lost their loved ones. It had been hard enough with Danny's parents and Bobby's wife.

He glanced around at the physicians working with a speed only the young and desperate possess and noticed one missing. Curious but not wanting to interrupt them anymore than he already had, he slipped quietly out of the room and made his way to the observation window.

He ducked into the shadows when he saw Ethan sitting by Casey's bedside. Ethan's face was nothing but pure torment as he held her hand, watching her as she struggled through tears to say what she regretted in her short life.

Then Ethan admitted how much he regretted all the times he'd pushed her away. Naveen watched as Casey's pale face lit up briefly with happiness as Ethan continued to say he wanted to be with her and that he was done fighting against his feelings.

When Casey said she'd always thought they would be good together, Ethan's surprise was soon replaced with a smile as she pointed out that was the reason she kept bringing up that they should try and make it work.

Naveen felt his heart nearly break when Ethan climbed into bed with Casey, taking her in his arms to hold her while she slept. From this distance one could easily see Ethan's face contorted in a sad sort of anger. Naveen wondered if it was because he finally knew the truth about what he needed in life and yet believed he was about to lose her.

Naveen silently crept away with anxiousness for the coming dawn. He hoped that the next news he heard was that Ethan and Casey had a future.

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

On the evening of the gala to help raise the needed funds for Edenbrook, Naveen was pleasantly surprised to see Ethan arrive with Casey. He tried to keep his attention on what one of the donors was saying to him, but he found his attention was more focused on keeping tabs on the couple.

Sienna slipped over beside him.

"Mrs. Parker," Naveen said to the donor who was oblivious to his lack of attention, "will you excuse me? I need to speak to Dr. Trinh about two patients of ours."

"Yes, of course." Mrs. Parker smiled at him. "I hope they are doing well."

"They are!" Sienna couldn't contain her excitement. "They've improved more and more these last few weeks."

The elegant lady left them with a congratulations.

Naveen led Sienna off to a less crowded area of the party.

"Well?" He prodded, his own excitement growing with hers. "What happened?"

"So much! I think they have been secretly meeting! Ethan asked her to the gala!' She whispered. "He said it was to represent the diagnostic team, but Casey knew the real reason."

Naveen chuckled. "Of course she did."

"But," Sienna continued, "when he arrived at the apartment to pick her up, Casey introduced him as her date."

"She did? And how did Ethan take that?"

Sienna was practically beaming. "He didn't correct her."

Naveen noticed the couple talking to a possible donor together. They then drifted over to the bar for a drink.

"Sienna, look!" He gestured toward the ones they were gossiping about.

Sienna turned to see Ethan take Casey into his arms, kissing her passionately in front of everyone.

She squealed softly, throwing her arms around Naveen in an excited hug.

He couldn't stop smiling as he returned her hug.

After all, he saw that he would have many, many more delightful gossip sessions about the two people who held special places in his heart.