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teriwrites · 4 months ago

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Boy of My Imagination: Chapters 1-2

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2015 Novel

Divisions are going to be working a little differently, now that chapters are no longer like 6K+

We open with our main character waking up in a hospital room, classic

'I wasn't expecting to wake up in a hospital room. But the white-washed walls, stiff bed sheets, machine monitoring my heart rate, and the IV sticking out of my arm made it clear that that was exactly where I was. A nurse in her scrubs was fiddling with something on a tray across the room, facing away from me. Her light hair was tied up into a tight knot on her head. She didn't seem to notice that I had woken up. Not wanting to startle her too badly, I tried to clear my throat. My mouth was dry and tasted like death. How long had I been asleep? When had I ended up in the hospital? Why couldn't I remember anything?' (okaaaaaaaaaay writing growth!! love how lil Teri was setting the scene)

'I took a good look around myself, trying to see anything that might give an indication of how long I'd been in the hospital, but the room was as plain and colorless as a prison cell. Even the curtains, drawn but thin enough to let in some light, were the same shade of white as everything else in the room.' really vibing so far

"Should I call her family?" the nurse asked. "Or do you think it would be too overwhelming for her?" "Why don't you ask Penny?" Doctor Ingram responded. (i like this guy. i have 0 idea how stuff like this works in a hospital and whether he needs to make calls like this, seeing how she literally just woke up from a COMA, but like yk, the sentiment is nice lol)

Penny hates attention, she's just like me fr

There's really no sidestepping around 'the accident' here, we dive straight into it in Chapter 1: collision in her car 6 months ago while driving home to visit her parents from university

Don't ask 17 year old Teri how comas work in cases like this

Don't ask 26 year old Teri how comas work in cases like this

Don't ask 26 year old Teri how comas work

I do know that most cases of people falling comatose wake up within days, maybe weeks, not usually SIX MONTHS

'When I'd first opened my eyes, I'd had that feeling that I had slept in too late, like when you want to take a short nap and wake up knowing that you were out for an hour too long and it was too late at that point to go to class. I'd personally experienced that more times than I cared to admit.' okay i'm pretty sure it probably doesn't work like that, but it DOES tell us a little more about Penny so I'm forgiving the inaccuracy lol

Classic 'in and out of consciousness', hazy memory of someone standing by her bedside

'[Suddenly], a short woman with long, wavy hair jumped out of the seat. She ran to my bedside, and I was afraid to realize that I didn't recognize her. "Penny!" she cried out. "Oh, dear, I wasn't sure if you were... they told me you were awake and... Oh, I can't believe I fell asleep!" The woman must've recognized my confusion. She clutched my hand, and though I tried to pull it away, she held it tightly. Her manicured nails were digging in between my knuckles. "Oh, Penny! You recognize your mother, don't you?" Something clicked in my mind. This was my mother. Of course this was my mother? How could I have forgotten what my own mother looked like?' (trippy, but also, I'm realizing that maybe I do like writing in 1st person POV, actually, this has been a vibe)

Her mother, naturally, gets Very emotional, and Penny is just there like awkwardly trying to comfort her lol

'I had only seen my mother cry once before in my life, and that had been when her cousin died in a boating accident.' wildly random piece of lore there

Penny nooo don't APOLOGIZE lmao

Once again, I don't think 17 year old Teri knew that being comatose is Not equivalent to being like... asleep

Why tf is Penny's dad not answering his phone?? Like my guy, if I had a daughter in the hospital who'd been in a coma for several months and she'd pulled through, I would take my phone off 'do not disturb'

AHA Penny is 21

Or maybe 22 now, idk when her birthday's supposed to be

Penny's mother showing so much care being so out of character for her and jarring for Penny is kinda sad

But also tbf this woman is, like, smothering

But then again, comatose daughter. Fair enough.

Penny's mom's name is Gertrude. Sounds like the name of a woman who would name her daughter Penny

Last name reveal: Kalani

Okay, we seem to be fully in the clear from describing skin tones with food, I think that one from 2012 was a one-off. Thank God. I would love to see little Teri just use, like, yk, descriptors, but explaining her 'half-white, half-Hispanic' and describing her dark hair/eyes and her tan skin works for now

Penny's parents are the most dramatic people on Earth. I kinda love them

Anyways, her dad arrived and Immediately collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing

It's been nearly a decade since I wrote this, and I already have guessed the 'surprise' ending within the first chapter lol

Oof she missed the second semester of her junior year of college and her first thought is that she hopes they got refunded for the tuition

Penny's best friend's name is 'Chrysanthe Jezebel Aldrich'

(Her parents are rich. That might explain the naming system)

'Chrysanthe Jezebel Aldrich was my best friend from Manoa University. She was what my mother enjoyed calling a 'bad influence'. While I would admit that she had a bit of a drinking problem, and was unable to turn down a challenge no matter how dangerous, there was more to Chrys than my mother ever stopped to notice.' once again, a return of the 'Teri would've joined the Temperance Movement and cheered on Prohibition' mentality

'[My mother] shoved something into my hands. My vision blurred for a moment before focusing on a small journal, and my heart sank. I had been hoping that she'd have brought me something useful, like smuggled in some chocolate or keys to a new car. If all I got for living through a coma was a bound stack of paper, we were going to have a problem.' pfft

Ohhhhhhhhh wait

Every chapter ends with a journal entry

I totally forgot about that

Also wtf this book takes place in 2009???

Penny 'woke up' on April Fools Day rip

I'm not gonna share all of the journal entries bc there are 17 of them and some get long iirc, but here's the first one:

April 1st, 2009 Funny how I wake up on April Fools Day, isn't it? I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to be doing with this, but mom said that I should write down what I remember. My name is Penny Kalani. I'm Hawaiian, and my family is from Honolulu. I used to attend Manoa University, but I had to drop out for the second semester of my junior year. See, I got into a car crash. A pretty nasty car crash. I ended up in a coma for six months, and I don't know what happened to the driver of the other car. My favorite color is green. I like wearing contacts over glasses. The doctor here that's been taking care of me is named Ingram. Mom tells me that I'm going to have an appointment with him every week for a few months after I get out of the hospital, to make sure that I'm adjusting well to regular life. So far, it isn't looking very promising. I can't remember much, and my head hurts all the time. I wish they'd give me some painkiller.

Aaaaaaand here we go

You're telling me the Kalanis struggle to afford Penny's tuition and yet have a 'family villa on the coast'?? Uh-huh.

Penny's dad's name reveal: Honi

'My shirt depicted a typical beach scene with the word 'Hawaii' splashed across the sunset. It looked like something that would be bought in a tourist shop. In all likelihood, that was exactly where my father bought it for me.' something about this just feels more personable than the somewhat-forced fantasy mindset Delroy was giving

Doctor Ingram is my favorite character so far, he seems like a chill doctor

'A couple nurses crossed our paths, and I caught sight of a young boy sitting outside of a room, waiting.' huh, a boy, you say?

There's so much potential here for an interesting discussion on disability, and it's about to be so wasted that my heart is already breaking

'[My] dad unlocked our regular Honda, and I was told to sit in the back. My mom didn't want me freaking out - because apparently that was what I was supposed to do because of my accident.' like??? come ON, that's such a 'parent of a newly disabled person' move

Penny still feels so off-kilter about everything. Not immediately recognizing her childhood home. Stepping into the house and reactively yelling, "I'm home!" before realizing the only other people in her family are right there with her, worrying about her mom worrying about her and trying to disguise even normal discomfort to prevent the overreaction

I've made a couple references to weight fluctuation due to her coma, which I just fact-checked and confirmed is NOT how that works lol

Google was free and even more effective in 2015, Teri

That said, this is a little trippy in the fact that, when I got diagnosed with T1D a few years ago, I DID have a pretty significant weight fluctuation prior to my diagnosis, and now reading back through this is the weirdest experience

Oh lordy, here we go again with the 'is this the character's take or Teri's?' because either this commentary is fatphobic or it's meant to reflect the general society's unhealthy obsession with thinness, entirely dependent on who's actually using these words here

Another instance of Penny confidently being wrong, then having the rug pulled out under her. This time: forgot where her bedroom is

Penny is Hawaiian, therefore Penny must be a surfer 👍

Okay, we're pushing into disturbing here, the description of her appearance lines up with me pre-E.R. visit in 2020... like, I could go back and find photos from the time that would line up with these general descriptions she's giving

'I looked horrible. And worse, I looked sick.' Bro, I didn't even intend for Penny to be a self-insert, but ig Apollo decided otherwise lmao

'I quickly turned away from the mirror and faced my father. He seemed taller than I remembered. Maybe I had somehow managed to shrink while in a coma. I made a mental note to look up later whether or not that was possible.' quick fact check, it's possible! not by like a Lot, but with muscle atrophying, yeah, she might've lost a lil height

Describing the notably indigenous Hawaiian character as 'calm as the sunset' feels... off.

Good ol' dad giving good ol' dad advice of not ruining your sleep schedule. Or maybe that was just always my dad, since we dealt with jet lag a lot when I was growing up

As I glanced into my mirror and saw myself staring back, I called out to him. "Hey, dad?" "Yeah?" "How do you think they'll react when I return in the fall?" "How will who react?" I glanced at my father in the mirror, keeping my eyes from drifting back towards the skeleton that remained of me. "My classmates. I don't want my friends at Manoa thinking I'm fragile because I got into an accident. I look fragile enough already." (i'm screaming, write more of this focusing on disability and chronic health, you coward)

'Adjust. That was the word everybody kept using, like the goal that I was reaching for. But right then, adjustment felt impossible.' screaming

Also a little disturbing is how Penny is a little bit panicking about being a semester behind all of her friends in college, and I myself wound wind up graduating a semester after all my friends in college

Apollo leave me Alone

Penny wondering when she's gonna get better after a WEEK out of the hospital omg

Wait, no, a week since she WOKE UP

Girly, dw, I'm sure that 17 year old Teri will unknowingly 'fix you' over the course of like 30 days lol

'At what point was I supposed to start feeling better? When were my constant headaches going to fade? When would my memories return to me? How long was I going to have to wait until I could feel normal again?' the entire purpose of this novel is apparently to give 26 year old me an existential crisis

Penny's mom: keeps entering her room without knocking and leaving without closing the door Penny: 'Another pet peeve of mine. It wasn't just patients with severe head injuries that had trouble remembering things sometimes.'

Yk, I keep thinking about this story in the vein of 'well, I wouldn't go on to get diagnosed with T1D until 2020, I wouldn't show real signs of chronic cubital tunnel until 2021, clearly 2015 Teri just didn't Understand medical maladies' but, in 2015 Teri's defense, she was wearing a resin back brace 24/7 for scoliosis and was technically a candidate for surgery but thankfully never needed it and would have to miss school and stuff to go to a hospital 90 minutes away every few months for adjustments and things.

So, tbf, it's not like she had No awareness of medical issues

She also at this time in her life was newly realizing that one of the jobs she'd taken an interest in (military band, bc, listen, listen, hear me out! it was familiar to a military kid, and jobs for professional saxophonists are Extremely few and far between lol) would never accept her due to said medical issues, so I'm giving her a pass

'I'd never made any friends in my neighborhood, as when I was growing up, all of the other kids had been too young for me to really befriend. I'd babysat a couple of them, and it's difficult to make friends with someone when you're getting paid to make sure that they get to bed on time. It doesn't make you very popular.' pfft

So far, my nods to Hawaii in this have included: earlier listed cheesy touristy gift shop tshirt, reference to a 'family villa on the coast', Penny's surfboard, the neighbors bringing over a guava cake

This is fine... :) ...

Penny constantly avoiding her reflection is so sad but also I get it

Her anxiety around taking too much pain medication is so me-coded teehee

Angsty but so real journal entry about her anxieties about not fitting in and feeling like a stain on their Perfect Neighborhood filled with Perfect Families made up of Perfect People, and she's the Sick Girl, which only drives her more towards getting back to college in the fall, which only means she's gonna burn out and crash even harder (in a realistic setting, which I'm not sure this is lol)

Ending Thoughts:

Holy shit. I really didn't know much of what to expect going into this book. Like, I have a couple of scenes vaguely bobbing around in my head, I know exactly where the ending goes (it's so disappointing, folks), but the actual content was mostly a blurry, probably-lowkey-racist notion. And, to be clear, 2015 Teri still has a ways to go in how to research and interact with cultures outside of her own. But, that unfortunate byproduct of early learning aside? This has been incredibly eye-opening. Regardless of whether or not I really could relate, it's clear that I was doing a much better job of seriously putting myself in my main character's shoes to determine how to interact with the story, and it shows! There are parts of this writing that really highlight how little I was interested in fact-checking my own vibes-based research (in my defense, it WAS a rush job in November). But at the same time, there are lines of thinking and aspects of Penny's experience that I'm finding not just understandable but familiar to my now-lived experiences. Not that I've ever been in a coma (but I did come disturbingly close that one time!), and I've also never been in a serious car accident or experienced head trauma of that level, thankfully. So I can't really speak to any of those aspects of it, but in terms of a general 'newly disabled' perspective, weirdly getting like a 9/10.

#teriwrites down memory lane #my wips #writeblr

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calebxia · 4 years ago

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only you || part ii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: slight (consensual!!) somnophilia, cockwarming, public sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, oral (m+f receiving), Osamu has a dick piercing

3.3k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You woke up to Osamu crawling into your bed.

“Good morning, princess,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

“Morning,” you mumbled as he kissed your forehead.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I just wanted to hold ya for a lil’ while,” he said. You nodded and closed your eyes again.

Osamu’s cock was pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Samu,” you groaned.

“Just sleep, princess,” he mumbled, pushing down his boxers. He rutted his cock against your pussy. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin as he rutted against you. You spread your legs slightly, giving him a better angle.

“Good girl,” he breathed. He reached down, rubbing your clit through your thin panties.

“Want more,” you moaned.

“Wanna warm my cock, princess?” Osamu asked.

“Please,” you whimpered as he played with your clit. He pushed your panties to the side and slowly slid inside you. You moaned as he pulled your leg over his hip to push deeper inside of you.

“There we go,” Osamu sighed. You sighed as you closed your eyes and cuddled against his broad chest. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

You yawned and nodded, drifting back to sleep, stretched and full.

The second time you woke up, Osamu was gently rocking into you.

“Samu,” you mumbled as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside you.

“Shh, shh, baby, let me take care of ya,” he said. He reached down and circled your clit with his fingers. You moaned softly.

“Ya were squeezin’ me so tight in yer sleep, must’ve been havin’ a good dream,” Osamu teased.

You had, in fact, dreamed of something along the lines of this.

“Dreamt about you,” you moaned, moving your hips against his.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, timing his slow thrusts with yours. “What about me?”

“This,” you said. “‘Cept you kissed me.”

“Like this?” He asked, kissing you softly. You sighed into the kiss.

“Yeah,” you said, breathlessly after he pulled away.

He leaned his forehead against yours, looking at you with soft, grey eyes.

“Gonna fill ya up again, okay?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

You whined as he pinched your clit, driving you closer to your own orgasm.

“Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Cum with me, baby,” he moaned. You cried out as you creamed around his cock as he painted your insides white.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Good morning,” you said, pulling away from him.

“Do you want to go to Osaka with me today?” He asked. “I’m opening a new location and need to look at a few different areas.”

“If you make me breakfast,” you said, smiling.

“Deal.” Osamu pecked your lips and slowly pulled out of you before hopping out of your bed.

You sighed happily and laid back in bed for a moment. You listened to Osamu moving around in the kitchen before hopping up and walking into your bathroom.

You quickly showered and brushed your teeth before getting dressed in a short, black skirt and a white Onigiri Miya shirt.

In the kitchen, Osamu had opted to make omurice. He was just plating the second plate when you entered.

“Who said ya could be so cute?” Osamu asked, looking you up and down. You smiled as your cheeks burned.

“Who said you could be so handsome?” You shot back. Even in just a pair of black briefs, Osamu was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“Bon appetit,” he said, placing both plates on the table. You smiled as he pulled your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” you said. You ate in relative silence, playing a childish game of footsies under the table.

“Let me go get dressed and we’ll leave,” Osamu said after the two of you finished eating.

“I’ll be here,” you said as he kissed your forehead.

You fiddled with your phone as you waited. You had a few new texts, all from the MSBY boys who had all apparently gotten your number from Osamu the day before.

‘hey it’s uncle tsumu,’ Atsumu texted. You smiled and saved his number under ‘Uncle Tsumu’ before texting back.

‘hi uncle tsumu,’ you responded. You opened and responded to the rest of the boys, saving their numbers and momentarily fangirling over the fact that you now had your favourite volleyball players’ numbers.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping into the kitchen. He was dressed casually, in jeans and an Onigiri Miya shirt that matched your own.

“Nice shirt,” you teased.

“It’s my restaurant,” Osamu said.

You laughed as you followed him out of the door and to the car.

“We have to be back by 7 to pick up yer mom,” Osamu said as he started the car.

You frowned at the mention of her.

“Hey, no pouting,” he said. “I didn’t even sleep with her last night. Like you asked.”

“She’s still your wife, you’re going to have to eventually fuck her again,” you said.

“What do ya want me to do?” Osamu asked. “Leave her?”

You stayed silent.

“Give it some time, it’ll be suspicious if I ask for a divorce right after I met ya,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh.

“How much time?” You asked.

“Let’s say, six months,” he said. “That’s long enough that it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“You won’t sleep with her?” You asked.

“Promise, princess,” he said.

“What about when I go back to school?” You asked.

“I’ll come visit you,” he said. You nodded, satisfied with his answers.

The ride was long and filled with questions of you and Osamu getting to know each other better.

When you finally arrived in Osaka, Osamu grabbed your hand as you walked towards the subway. You smiled widely and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Don’t wanna lose ya in the crowd,” he teased, pulling you closer to him. You grabbed onto his arm and smiled up at him.

“You’re so tall, I’m pretty sure you could spot me if we got separated,” you said.

“Maybe I just want to hold yer hand,” he said.

“Maybe I want to hold yours,” you said.

He smiled down at you.

It took a few hours to check out three locations for the new Onigiri Miya.

“We still have a few hours before we have to be back,” Osamu said. “Ya wanna go get lunch?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Osamu?” You teased.

“If I am?” He said.

“I’d say yes,” you said.

“Then, I definitely am,” he said, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You ended up in a small restaurant near the last location you had checked on.

“You come here often?” Osamu joked as you sat at a small table.

“I actually do go to school around here,” you said.

“Really?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

“Kansai University in Suita,” you said.

“Oh, so yer not just good at volleyball, yer smart too?” Osamu asked.

“I am,” you said.

“And humble, wow,” he said. You smiled at him.

“Where did you go to school?” You asked.

“Otemae in Nishinomiya,” Osamu said. “Majored in business.”

“And then you opened Onigiri Miya right after you graduated?” You asked.

“Yep,” he said. The two of you chatted as you ate.

“Ooo, we still have two hours before we have to leave,” Osamu said, glancing at his phone.

“We can just walk around until we find something,” you said. “Who knows, we might find somewhere to put Onigiri Miya.”

Osamu nodded as he paid for your food.

You grabbed his hand as you stepped out onto the street and immediately pulled him down a street of cute, little shops. You wandered into shop after shop, dragging Osamu behind you as you tried on clothes.

“That’s cute,” Osamu said as you twirled around in a sundress covered in sunflowers.

“You think?” You asked. “Not too short?”

“Oh, definitely,” Osamu said, running his hand up your bare thigh. “I can already see the cute little panties you wore today.”

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he popped the elastic of your panties.

“Come on, try something else on,” he said, pushing you back into the dressing room. He closed the door behind him and pushed you against the wall before kneeling in front of you

“Samu,” you whispered as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Cute, little cunt,” he said, shamelessly licking over your already wet panties. “Wanted to taste ya since I first saw ya.”

“Samu!” You hissed as he pulled your panties to the side and licked deep into your core.

“Taste so good, baby,” he moaned. You bit back a moan of your own as his plush lips wrapped around your clit.

“Samu,” you moaned softly. You heard a knock at the door.

“Is everything alright in there, Miss?” An employee called.

Osamu sucked harshly at your clit as you tried to respond.

“Ev-everything is fine!” You called back. “Just a little trouble with a zipper.”

“Okay, let me know if you would like any help,” she said.

“Thank you,” you responded.

“Cum for me, princess,” Osamu whispered, inserting two fingers in your sopping cunt. He curled them just right, pressing against that spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, let me taste ya for real,” he said.

You leaned against the wall and tangled your fingers in Osamu’s hair, shoving his face deeper in your pussy as you gushed all over his face.

Osamu pulled back as you breathed heavily. His face glistened with your juices as he smiled widely up at you.

“Fuck you,” you gasped out.

“That’ll have to come later, baby,” he said, standing up. “I’m buying you that dress.”

“Okay,” you said, not having the energy to argue. You slowly redressed in your original clothes and followed Osamu out of the dressing room with the sundress in hand.

The employee pursed her lips as she noticed there were no zippers to be found.

You smiled at her apologetically and left quickly after Osamu paid.

“Wanna suck my dick in a public restroom?” Osamu asked, only half-joking.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you said, smiling as you pushed him into the bathroom only a few doors down from the shop you’d just been in.

You locked the door behind you and fell to your knees in front of Osamu. His cock was straining against his jeans, begging to be let out.

You quickly undid his jeans, pushing them down. His cock bobbed heavily as you pulled his briefs down.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, wrapping your hands around his length. The girth was so great your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around it. You placed a kitten lick on the pierced tip, slurping up the leaking precum.

“Go ‘head, princess,” Osamu said, grabbing your hair.

“It’s so big,” you said, marvelling at his size. “Is the piercing sensitive?”

“Why don’t ya find out, baby?” Osamu asked. You nodded and took just the tip in your mouth. You gently tongued at the apadravya as Osamu moaned above you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, struggling not to just force his cock down your throat and you sucked the tip. “Can ya take more, princess?”

You hummed and slowly took a few extra inches into your mouth. Your lips were stretched around his cock as you struggled to take more down your throat. You wrapped a hand around the remaining inches and pumped him slowly as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

“Fuck, so good for me,” Osamu moaned. “Made to take my cock, huh? My lil’ cock sleeve.”

You moaned as he pulled you back by your hair. His cock fell from your mouth along with a whine.

“‘m sorry, baby, just need t’ be in ya,” Osamu said. “Promise I’ll let ya suck my cock later.”

Osamu shoved your skirt up and pulled your soaked panties to the side before plunging two fingers in your cunt.

“So wet and ready for me,” Osamu said, curling his fingers inside of you. He pulled his fingers out and sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean. Osamu pushed you against the sink, lifting you up and sitting you on the cool porcelain.

“In me,” you moaned as Osamu’s cock teased your wet folds. “Samu, please.”

“I know ya need me, princess,” Osamu said. “Need me fillin’ up yer sweet, lil’ cunt.”

“Need it,” you whined. He slowly pressed his cock into you, stretching your walls. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, softly. He nodded as he gently rutted into your tight cunt.

“S’good ‘n tight around me, princess,” Osamu moaned. He reached down and his fingers circled your clit. “Not gonna last long, baby.”

“Make me cum, please, daddy,” you begged.

“What was that, princess?” Osamu asked, moving his fingers faster over your clit. His hips snapped against yours roughly.

“Wanna cum on your cock, daddy,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you.

Osamu groaned as his hips moved faster. “Say that again, princess.”

“Daddy,” you moaned lightly in his ear. Osamu moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Gonna make you cum on daddy’s cock, princess,” Osamu said. His forehead leaned against yours as he thrusted into you harder. Your walls fluttered as your stomach tightened.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you gasped. Osamu teased your clit with long fingers.

“Cum around daddy’s cock, baby,” he cooed. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cry as you came. His cock twitched deep inside you and Osamu filled you up.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned as he came. The two of you panted for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh,” you breathed as Osamu slowly pulled out of you. He pulled your underwear back over your pussy and helped you stand and straighten out your skirt.

“We’re insatiable,” you said, smiling widely. “Like a bunch of horny teenagers.”

“If you give me a few minutes, we can go again,” Osamu said, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Well, if we leave now, we can probably fuck in the car on the way back,” you said.

“After you, princess,” Osamu said, holding the door open.

“How was Osaka?” Your mom asked as the three of you sat around the table.

“Fine,” Osamu said. “None of the locations were right, though.”

“We did go to this cute, little restaurant, though,” you said, taking a bite of rice. “And there was this nice boutique we went to.”

“You get anything?” Your mom asked.

“Just a sundress,” you said. “Might wear it to the game tomorrow.”

Osamu coughed and banged on the table as he choked. You patted his back as your mom handed him a glass of water.

“Okay?” You asked as he stopped coughing.

“Fine, fine,” Osamu said, taking a sip of water. “Wrong pipe.”

“You should try on the dress, let me see it,” your mom said, leaning back in her chair as Osamu calmed down.

You bit back a smirk as you nodded. “Of course, Mom. Give me one second.”

You padded down the hallway to your room and quickly changed into the dress.

You twirled around in your dress as you stood in front of your mom and Osamu.

Osamu narrowed his eyes at you as you faced them.

“It’s-It’s a little short, no?” Your mom asked.

“I think it’s cute,” you said, smiling.

“It is a lil’ short,” Osamu said, casually. You glared at him. “Maybe ya should wear something else to the game?”

“Wouldn’t want to distract the players,” your mom said. “Or let someone get too handsy with you.”

“They’re professional athletes, they won’t be distracted,” you said, waving their comments away. “And I’ll be with Osamu, so I’m sure no one would try anything.”

“Wear what ya want,” Osamu said, going back to his dinner.

You rolled your eyes as you sat down at the table. “Was planning on it.”

“Hey, I don’t want you two to argue over this,” your mom said. “You’ve been getting along so well.”

“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” Osamu said. He stood up abruptly, shaking the table.

“Osamu,” your mom called as he walked down the hallway. “What has gotten into him?”

“He’s a man,” you said. “He’s just pissed I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“He probably just wants you to be safe,” your mom said.

“I’m going to change,” you mumbled, standing up. You were walking down the hallway when Osamu pulled you into the bathroom suddenly.

“What the fuck?” You asked as he pushed you against the door. “Mom’s right in the kitchen.”

The shower was running and steam was filling the bathroom quickly.

“It’s that fuckin’ dress,” Osamu said, grinding against you. The towel wrapped low on his hips threatened to fall to the floor. “Jus’ wanna rip it off ya.”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Ya better not leave my side,” he said, kissing your lips.

“Promise,” you mumbled against his plush lips. “Now let me go before my mom catches us in a precarious situation.”

“Get outta here,” Osamu said, opening the door. He smacked your ass as you crossed the hallway into your room.

You changed into a t-shirt and shorts before going to the living room where your mom was watching TV.

“So,” your mom said, looking over at you, “I noticed you had a few… bruises on your neck.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled your phone out and used the camera to look at your neck. It looked like you’d been in a fight.

“I can explain, Mom,” you started.

“So which one is it? I figure it’s one of Osamu’s friends you met yesterday at the restaurant?” She said.

“Uh, yes! Exactly!” You exclaimed. “I actually didn’t work at the restaurant all day.”

“So which one?” Your mom asked excitedly. “Is it Hinata? He’s so cute, I just want to eat him up! Ooo, maybe Sakusa? He’s so dark and mysterious.”

“It’s, um, well,” you stuttered. Osamu chose that moment to enter the room, wearing just a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are we talking about?” He asked, sitting next to your mom. You tried not to frown as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“Just which one of your friends Y/n here was with yesterday,” your mom said, leaning into Osamu’s touch.

“Yesterday?” Osamu asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to keep covering for her,” she said. “Look at her neck! You’re the only one she’s been with, so surely you didn’t give her those.”

“Ah, her neck,” Osamu said. He mouthed an apology as your mom turned back towards you.

“So which one was it?” She asked.

“Um, Bokuto,” you said quickly.

“Bokuto?” She questioned. She looked back at Osamu. “Isn’t he older than you? Sweetie, isn’t he a little too old for you?”

“Surely you don’t have a problem with age gaps,” you said, looking at Osamu pointedly. “Bo’s twenty-six. That’s only five years.”

“You should bring him to dinner before you leave,” your mom said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Mom, we’re not really, like, a thing,” you said. “It’s really just a casual thing.”

“Nonsense! Invite him over,” she exclaimed.

“I’ll, um, see if he’s free tomorrow at the game,” you said.

“Oh, I wish I could go now!” She said. “I should’ve taken off work.”

“It’s too bad,” you said.

“I’m glad you and Osamu are bonding, though,” she said. “Maybe you’ll come visit more often.”

“Maybe,” you said, noncommittally.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Osamu said with a yawn. “You two have fun talking boys.”

“I’m actually going to head to bed, too,” you said. “Guess all that travelling today wore me out.”

“Night, you two,” your mom called after you.

#samu thoughts #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #tw:incest #cai writes #only you #miya osamu #osamu miya #tw:cheating

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landoncrris · 3 years ago

Note

Memory Loss Part IV

*TW: memory loss is mentioned

Once you made it inside and the door was closed behind the two of you, protecting you from the cold weather, you stepped out of your shoes and let out a little yawn. You hadn’t noticed how tired you really were until now and you longed for laying down in comfortable clothes. Mason grabbed your or rather his jacket to hang it on the rack before getting rid of his shoes. After your little moment in the car neither of you knew whether to mention it or not and while Mason felt a little more confident now, he didn’t want to push his luck. You on the other hand longed for more. Feeling his skin on yours had scratched the part of your brain that – hopefully – had stored all those lost memories. It had brought a strong feeling to the surface. A feeling that had your heart beating faster whenever you looked at him. You didn’t know whether it was an actual memory or if he had made you fall for him within only a week, but at that moment it really didn’t make a difference. “Mase?” He looked at you, warm brown eyes meeting yours with a questioning look and a small smile on his features. “Do you think…I mean…”, you stopped and took a deep breath. “I erm…Can I have a hug?” For Mason, the world stopped spinning right in that moment. The way you stood there fiddling with your fingers and your eyes turned towards the floor asking for him to hug you had him on the verge of tears again. It reminded him so much of the very beginning of your relationship. You had never been the most confident person and struggled with speaking about or showing your feelings, but with him everything had been different, and he’d seen every ounce of love in your eyes and had felt it in every single one of your touches and kisses. “You never have to ask for a hug, love.”, he quietly said to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “C’mere.” You raised your head to look at him, standing there with open arms to welcome you against his chest. It didn’t even take you a second to step forward and lean against his body, searching for his calming scent in an embrace. Your arms circled his waist, gently grabbing the fabric of his hoodie, while his went around your shoulders to keep you safe and warm in his arms. You felt his heart beating violently in his chest, one of his hands reaching up, to cup the back of your head and you knew in this exact moment that there wasn’t a place this earth could offer that would feel as safe as being wrapped up in Mason’s arms. “You told me to ask whenever I needed something, remember?” He barely understood what you were saying because of the way your cheek was smushed into his chest, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. Mason chuckled and squeezed you a little closer to him, his cheek laying on top of your head now. He felt home. “Yeah, you’re right.” His fingers gently caressed the back of your head, carefully combing through your hair. He never wanted to let go, he never wanted to live another day without you in his arms. For him, it was an incomparable feeling that could not be exceeded by anything or anyone. No Champions League or World Cup win could ever match the feeling that flowed through him when he held you. All he ever wanted and all he could ever want was right in his arms.

Later that night you were sat on your bed, dressed in some comfy shorts and a matching hoodie, while you pondered over how to talk to Mason about the inevitable: your whereabouts. It was already difficult to think about it, let alone put these thoughts into words. You had already made your decision a few days ago, regardless of what had happened today, but putting it into words was still no small feat. Mason had gone to his room about 10 minutes ago and you weren’t sure whether he was already asleep. The thought of talking to him the next day had crossed your mind, but you had remembered that he would leave for an away game after breakfast. It was already bad to talk about it the night before he’d leave for an important game, but the morning right before most likely was an even worse timing. Taking one last deep breath, you got up from your bed to walk over to his room. You were surprised to find his door ajar, but little did you know that ever since you returned from the hospital, he had started to sleep with his bedroom door open so he could hear if something was wrong with you. The first nights he had barely slept at all because worry had kept him up. He had even got up once or twice to check in on you and whether you were still breathing fine. Of course, he knew that he was slightly overreacting, but he couldn’t help himself. You meant too much. He looked up from his phone when he heard you knocking against his door. “Y/n, you’re okay?” You nodded, stepping in carefully. Mason sat on one side of his bed, crisp white sheets bunched around his waist. The other side, which presumably had been your side, was untouched. The hardwood floor was partially covered by a fluffy grey carpet and there was a comfy armchair placed right next to the window. Everything was neatly tidied-up. “Can we talk?” He nodded. “Course.” Mason gestured for you to sit on his bed as well and you did; cross-legged and opposite of him. Attentive as he was, it wasn’t new to him that you got cold easily, so he held out a blanket for you place over your legs. “Thank you.” He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say when you were most likely going to start the probably most difficult conversation the two of you ever had to have without knowing the outcome.

“I erm…” You had no idea how to say what you wanted to say, so you started with the easiest part. “We both know that health-wise I’m only meant to stay with you for a week and with that week being over tomorrow, I really wanted to thank you for what you’ve done for me.” Mason felt his heart sinking at your words, that sounded nothing like the positive outcome he had hoped for after today. You had opened up even more and he had constantly been thinking about the best way to ask you to stay, but now those thoughts had gone out the window. “I know you don’t see it that way, but for me, nothing of what you did was a matter of course and I’d never take that for granted. You put me first, although I didn’t remember you or us at all. Instead of being mad and shoving whatever we’ve done in the past at me to make me remember, you held it all back. You’ve been nothing short of supportive and caring, never overstepped or made me feel uncomfortable. Thank you, Mason, for everything.” You had teared up at the end because it truly meant everything to you. Whether you were staying or not, this week had shown you that Mason was one of the best people you’d ever meet in your life and you were thankful to have experienced that for the week. Mason reached out for you, his hand gently brushing over yours, before gripping your fingers softly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y/n.”, he said and you knew he meant it. The way his soft eyes were locked on yours made it easy for you to see right into his heart. “I knew from the beginning that there was no guarantee that you would remember, let alone stay here or in my life, but you were still the person who had been the most important person in my life before. There was not a single second of doubt that I would support you along the way. Regardless of the outcome.” You squeezed his hand, a single tear making it past the last line of defence and he reached out to catch it before it even made its way to your jaw. It had never been easy for you to talk about your feelings and this situation with Mason this close to you made it even harder. You felt like throwing up or running away, but at the same time you so desperately wanted to get over with it. “I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for you and to be honest with you, I don’t even want to think about it. Losing someone you love without them actually being gone has to be one of the worst things a life could offer, and I know none of this was my fault, but I am still extremely sorry, Mase.”, your voice broke at the end, and you had to take a deep breath before you could continue and finally get the hardest thing off your chest. Mason gulped, nodding quickly and squeezing your hand back. There was no way he’d get any words out anytime soon. Not when he could feel his heart beating out of his chest and his bottom lip trembling. He was on the verge of breaking down and he would rather do that alone than in a room with you.

part 3 // naurr i’m so so sorry that it took me so long to read abxgwbjsdh but i desperately need to know how it goes 🫠 oh my god i just hope she stays i can’t do with a sad mason

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount oneshot #mason mount imagines #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #chelsea fc #england nt #chelsea imagine #england nt imagine #football imagine #football #fanfiction #oneshot #fluff

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jenomark · 4 years ago

Text

➔Pairing: Jeno x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Sexual tension & Penetration. ➔Word count: 2,470

➔Summary: You haven't called your ex-boyfriend in two years, but he's the first person you call when you're in a bit of trouble. He comes when you call, thus sparking a night neither of you will be able to move on from.

Anon request #1: can I request an ex to lovers scenario with jeno where his ex and him decided to stay as friends and since always they had a huge tension and after 2 years they got really flirty or smth, thanks💖

Anon request #2: hi, I want to request a drabble about sex with jeno, thank you!!

Jeno looked at his buzzing cell phone and blinked lazily. He hadn't seen your number come up since you broke up with him, which had to have been two years ago. He had managed to stay friends with you over those two years, but you were never friendly enough to call each other at three in the morning. Still, Jeno picked up the call to hear static at the other end of the line, wondering if he would still feel the same when he heard the sound of your voice.

"Hello?"

There was more static. When he thought you might have pocket dialed him, and he was getting ready to hang up, he heard your voice. Time seemed to slow down in those moments.

"Jeno?" you said. "I don't have good service out here. I'm scared, Jeno."

Feeling his heart race, Jeno asked, "Where are you? What is going on?"

"Off the highway. My car broke down." you said. "Can you come get me?"

Jeno sprang out of bed immediately, tearing the covers from his naked body. He got dressed while keeping you on the phone with him, so that you weren't scared. He drove to where you were, pulling over to the side of the road. When you saw him, you got out of your car and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands together.

"I know I shouldn't have called you first," you started to say. "But i-"

"-It's okay." he said, meaning it.

Jeno was bone tired, but being in front of you made him more alert. Though you broke his heart, he was still so careful with yours. Jeno came over to your car to look at it, pulling up the hood like he had any idea what he was truly doing. You watched his muscles as he fiddled around with stuff, your eyes slightly glazing over.

"I don't know much about cars." he said, shutting the hood. "I'll call someone to come pick this up. Until then, I will drive you back home. It's too late for us to be waiting out here."

You nodded and followed him back to his car. He made the call quickly before setting his cell phone down in the cup holder. There was so much gratitude for him in the silence, but you couldn't seem to get any of your thoughts out. You were still thinking about his muscles, about how handsome he looked at nearly four in the morning.

"It's done," he said. "They'll pick your car up soon. You can figure out what to do about it tomorrow."

"Thank you." you said.

It had started to rain. A few droplets hit the front of his windshield before a whole sheet of rain came down, hitting the top of his roof as hard as rocks. He could barely see out of the windshield, so he decided to wait for the storm to pass. It was awkward inside of the car, and too quiet.

You cleared your throat. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Jeno looked over at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Seeing his expression, you realized what an invasive question it was. You tried backtracking, but you were sputtering your words enough to make Jeno laugh.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

You didn't know what you were thinking. Maybe you were too tired to think straight. Maybe it was the sound of the rain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you in the darkness of the car. You reached over and touched the hand that rested on the steering wheel until he looked you in your eyes.

"You got Lasik eye surgery." you said. "You used to look so cute in your glasses."

For Jeno, it was easy. There has always been sexual tension between you. Touching the top of your hand felt natural. He leaned over, grabbed your chin and kissed you. You made out, completely unaware that the rain had stopped. When everything slowed down, you were straddling Jeno in his seat, and his hands were on your ass. You parted, your eyes staying on his lips until he spoke.

"I should get you home." he said.

"You should come home with me." you said, surprising yourself more than him.

Jeno laughed and eased your body off of his. "I want that more than you know, but I don't think it's a good idea. I could never control myself around you. "

Jeno drove you home, the only sound in the car coming from the windshield wipers noisily wiping away droplets of rain. You followed the blades swiping left to right, your brain in a funk.

Breaking up with Jeno was one of your top ten mistakes. You weren't as wise as you are now. You didn't know what you had when you let it go. You had carried his hurt with you everywhere you went for two years. Though you remained as friends, there was always weird tension whenever you met up with each other. His group of friends didn't trust you, and your group of friends always took your side, even though each of them was in love with Jeno. Your shared friends didn't get into the middle of it, and you and Jeno spent 24 months skating around unspoken apologies.

"We never had a chance to talk alone." you said, finally getting the bravery to speak out. “There are a lot of things left unsaid.”

Jeno pulled up in front of your house. You weren't surprised he knew where you had moved to, because you had been dropping hints for months. You had always hoped Jeno would roll up one day and give you another chance you didn't quite think you deserved.

"We don't have to talk about it now. "It's early in the morning and we both could use some sleep," he said.

You hummed in agreement, looking out of the rain soaked window at your lonely, dark house. You looked up at the sky and wanted the sun to come up, to cast a pretty glow over you and soften the experience of sitting with your ex in his car.

"You're like my knight in shining armor." you said. "I owe you a lot."

You had your hand on the door handle. You wanted to lean over and kiss him the way he kissed you, but your bravery only went so far. Jeno seemed to be thinking a similar thing. His eyes fell to your lips. Before either of you could act, he unlocked his doors.

"Get some sleep." he said, rubbing his arms as if he were cold. "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing. I don't want them overcharging you for their services. If you want, I can go with you to make sure they don't."

"Okay." was all you could say. You got out of the car, tapped on his window as a way to say thank you and walked up the pathway to your house. You touched your fingers to your lips and remembered the way he tasted.

Jeno stayed there idling while you put your lock into the door and turned the handle. Once you were safely inside, you didn't wait to see if he had driven away.

You walked into your home, not caring enough to flick lights on. You weren’t as tired as before. Making out with Jeno had felt like an IV of caffeine had slipped into your bloodstream. Your body felt swollen in places, your heart most of all. You walked through the rooms, taking off your bra underneath your t-shirt and flinging it across the back of your couch. Your foot was on the first step of your stairs when you heard a soft rapping sound on your front door. Backtracking, you walked back to the door and flung it open, crossing one of your arms against your chest to hide yourself.

“Hi,” Jeno said.

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes darting frantically around your face. You had no time to greet him back before he stepped over the threshold and took your lips against his. You moved your arm and let him smash his hard chest against your free breasts. Your nipples were aroused and you knew he could feel them against the thin material of his t-shirt. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him, savoring the taste and feel of him.

“I know I said no but....” he said, between kisses. “It was very hard to watch you walk away from me just now.”

You kissed him and bit down on his lip, pulling it lightly with your teeth before letting go. “Take me to bed.” you said. “Or the floor...the couch..i don’t care, Jeno, just take me.”

Jeno picked you up into his arms. He shut your front door and locked it behind him without ever taking himself away from your lips. He was strong enough to carry you upstairs without struggling, which made you even more aroused than you already felt.

“To the left.” you whispered against his mouth.

It was strange having him in your new bedroom, yet, there was something familiar about seeing him amongst your possessions. He felt like he belonged. Jeno set you down on your bed and let out a groan of approval when you wouldn’t let go of his neck. You tried to trap him with your thighs, but he had pinned your arms above your head, which made you release him. Your body relaxed, half hanging off of your bed. Your stomach was bare where your shirt had ridden up, so Jeno leaned down to kiss it. He pushed it all the way up to expose your bare breasts and take them in your mouth one at a time. He was really going at it, feeling them and teasing them, when you put a stop to things and slipped out from underneath him.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked, your face growing hot. “ I just need a second.”

Jeno sighed but agreed. He sat on the edge of your bed and watched you slink into your bathroom. You tried your best to freshen up, to get the 5 a.m stink off of you. Your mind was frantic and thinking of a million things that could go wrong. You realized that you were extremely nervous. The door to the bathroom slowly opened to reveal Jeno standing there with his hands in his pockets, and all of those thoughts faded like ghosts into the foreground.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”

It was much easier than you thought it would be. It was like two friends getting together after a long time, friends that knew each other’s bodies inside and out. You tore off your shirt, not caring whether your armpits were sweating anymore. He met your breasts and moaned in appreciation as his mouth got back to business. On the bed, he rolled on top of you, laying kisses all down your body. You lifted your head up and let him nip at your neck. You took your hands and placed them underneath his t-shirt to touch his abs.

“Well,” you breathed. “This has changed.”

Jeno could only laugh. He took off his shirt and let you admire his body, which had definitely changed since the last time you took him to bed. You touched the hardness of his chest, down to the smoothness of tummy leading down to his cock, which you remembered in every detail. You sidled underneath him and let your tongue taste the salt on his skin. You bit down on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Your body had changed, too. You were softer in a lot of places, which Jeno loved. He wanted to touch and savor all of you. There was an overeagerness to him that stifled any remaining awkwardness there could have been. He bit down on your shoulder in response, scraping his teeth against your skin before he met your mouth. His tongue wound its way around yours for a few seconds, just relishing the feeling of them together.

Once all the clothes were removed, a desperation started to change the atmosphere. Things were no longer silly. He didn’t laugh. You didn’t go anywhere but in his arms. The rain on the window was quiet but present. The sun was seeping into your skin where you lay underneath him. There was a moment where he grabbed your face between his hands and held you there, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He kissed you sweetly, his lips full.

When Jeno entered you, it was like all the memories of your sex life came flooding back. You would always miss him inside of you when he wasn’t there, miss the full feeling that came when he penetrated you for the very first time. You had missed the sounds his throat made whenever he concentrated on pleasuring you. You hadn’t forgotten how skilled his fingers were at fondling you, or how each stroke never failed to make you lose all thought. He fucked your body like it meant something in the morning glow. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even when he felt your fingernails digging into his back.

He had let you take control. You moved on top of him and sank down onto his cock, holding onto his arms as you did. With your hands pressed against his chest, you moved. You rode Jeno wildly, bucking against his pelvis with abandon. He tugged on your hair when you tilted your chin towards the ceiling. He gripped your waist. He smacked your ass. He did everything in his power to bring you back to him every time you slipped away. Your eyes eventually found him again. You moved lower and rode him, your sweaty body gliding against his. He held you, his thick arm around your neck as he felt your walls contract, as you came around his cock.

You wanted to cry out, wanted to bring the room down around you. You kept fucking him, wanting to coax the cum from his cock, to feel the warmth moving downwards with gravity. You wanted to keep it going forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It had been a long time since you two had made love, and your bodies were too excited to hold back.

You knew there would be a talk somewhere in the future, when he was ready. As Jeno screwed up his face in orgasm, as you felt the warmth of his cum, you were a little too happy to prolong that conversation. You wanted him in your life for a long time but, for now, you would take him any way you could get him.

#jeno #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno smut #nct smut #lee jeno smut #jeno fanfic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #lee jeno fanfic #hope you don't mind me combining these #i liked where the first one was going #and i was not originally going to add sex but I know some people out there would love it #so it felt right to answer both

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hannahhook7744 · 3 years ago

Text

He's a stick;

Summary; Harry finds out that his dad is back and that he met Jay's dad. And about everything that came after, and isn't too sure how to react to the news or how to tell Jay about it.

Requested by @nocturna-iv , go check their page out. Hope that you like it and sorry that it took so long.

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

"Man, this thing is ugly" Harry muttered to himself, fiddling with the weird wooden staff he had found in his house. He had just gotten back from practice and found it on the kitchen table, and now he was just trying to figure out where it had come from since he had never seen it before.

Was it some old thing his dad had had in storage on his ship this whole time that he hadn't managed to find? Or something Emma had gotten from a foster home that she wanted to hold onto? Or did Henry find it and decide to bring it home? Or Could it be Chad or Evie trying to make a strange new fashion statement again? No no, it couldn't be Chad because Chad had been at practice with him and it couldn't have been Evie because Evie had been helping Doug and the rest of the band pack up after practice? Maybe it was a prank by Jay or maybe...

Harry took a closer look at the stick. Trying to determine why it looked so familiar yet so strange and unfamiliar at the same time. It was just a strange stick (or was the word staff?) With a screaming head on top that looked furious and maybe a bit surprised? Shocked. He wasn't sure. But he was sure that the werid staff's head was wearing a kufi. He still couldn't figure out why it looked so familiar to him though.

The young pirate was so lost in thoughts that he didn't notice when his father walked in. Or notice him watching him for that matter. Which happened more often than the teen liked to admit to be honest. Infact he only noticed him when his father began to chuckle.

"That thing has a name, lad" Killian chuckled, very amused. Harry yelped, quickly dropping the stick as he spun around to face his father-- very alarmed and sheepish. "D-dad! When did you get there?! " He asked fidgeting, turning red from embarrassment as he did so. Killian shook his head, looking even more amused than before. He was clearly trying not to laugh "Lad, I've been standing here for the past 6 minutes now".

Harry was sure that if he could see himself right now that he'd be as red as a tomato at this point. Because he had insulted something that presumably belonged to one of his parents in front of one of said parents. And hadn't even noticed them in the room. God he had to start paying more attention to his surroundings.

"Oh... I-well, I just want to say. For the record, you know, that I was kidding" Harry lied, trying to save himself from a very awkward conversation. "I don't think this thing is ugly at all. In fact, I think it's rather.. uh.. unique and... charming?" He winced at how bad his lie was. There was no one he could get himself out of the hole he had just dug. Why universe? Why?!

Killian couldn't hold it back anymore. He burst out laughing. He couldn't help it or really explain it. The look of pure panic on his son's face over something so small was just hilarious. And he didn't know why "relax lad. I agree with you. It is atrocious looking and it's only in the house right now because I was waiting on you to get home so I could get rid of it"

Harry relaxed, still bright red from embarrassment but glad that he hadn't gotten scolded for what he had said. Though he couldn't help but voice his confusion "Wait what? Why did you need me to be here to get rid of it?"

"Because I figured Jay would take receiving it from you better than he would from me" was all his father said. Which really didn't clearly up his confusion at all-- if anything, it only made the confusion be felt worsen. "Uh why are we giving the ugly stick thingy to Jay? I know you hate him but I didn't think you hated him this much"

Killian snorted, rolling his eyes as he walked over and picked up the staff from the ground, quickly setting back on the table. As he did this, Harry headed to the fridge to find a snack so he could regain some of the energy he had lost at lacrosse practice "Becuase this ugly thing is Jafar"

Harry froze at his father's words.. still staring into the fridge. Hand outstretched towards a Dr pepper. He stayed like that for a few seconds before slowly turning to face his father. "That thing... The thing I just called ugly... is Jafar? The Jafar? As in, Jay's dad Jafar?!"

Killian didn't even blink at how oddly his son was acting. Far too use to it at this point. Though to be fair, if he wasn't running around on the regular helping Emma fight evil sorcerers and the like than he'd be pretty shocked by the turn of events too. Especially if his friend's father was involved... "precisely "

Harry stood up and slammed the fridge door as his panic returned to him. "WHY THE HELL IS HE A STICK?!" He ran a hand through his hair, beginning to pace as he did so. Feeling out of breath. His heart felt like it was gonna burst out of his chest, which was clenching at the moment. "HOW IS HE A STICK?! WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?! AND WHY DO YOU HAVE HIM?!"

Killian didn't answer. Which only made Harry freak out even more. "Oh my God. WHAT DID YOU DO?!" He stayed silent. "Oh my God oh my God. Please tell me you didn't turn my friend's dad into a stick. Please, dad. Please. Uma and Audrey and Ben and Lonnie's parents already hate you. Please tell me you didn't do something that will make another one of my friend's parents hate you while Gideon sent you off!"

"Well, I didn't do it. And the person who did had a very good reason to. I only have him because I explained to them that his son has been missing them and they allowed me to take him so I could give Jay some piece of mind" Killian explained hastily, not liking that his son was mad at him. Especially since he had just gotten Emma and David to forgive him for keeping secrets.

"Oh my God, Jay is so gonna freak! Why is this my life!" Harry groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I hate my life. I hate my life. What even is my life? One normal day. That's all I ask for!"

Killian winced. "I know, I know. And I'm sorry lad. I know this isn't ideal but I thought the boy would like to know what happened and he'd definitely rather hear it from a friend rather than the person who could have stopped it but didn't. "

Harry just groaned in response. "Whatever. We'll get to that later. Just.. God just start from the beginning so I can figure out how much damage control I'm gonna have to do"

Killian hesitated for a second before giving in "Well, it all started when..."

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in-ky · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

#negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith #au!negan #the walking dead #twd smut #twd negan

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ghoultramp · 4 years ago

Text

nii-chan knows best [todoroki x reader]

▷ bnha

↳ pairing: shouto todoroki x f!reader

↳ content: aged up character(s), niichan!shouto x imouto!reader, quirkless!reader, virgin!reader, manipulative relationship, corruption, incest, (mention of) spanking, dubcon, teasing, object humping, (mention of) leg humping, cunnilingus, fingering, (a bit of) aftercare

↳ words: 3k

⇢ summary: living with your big brother was exhausting, every day focused on making sure you always knew your place. He was so serious and commanding all the time, scolding you for the slightest misstep. but nii-chan always knows best.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: the things that manifest at midnight, right?

You had lain there for what seemed like hours as you waited for the house to be still; a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding escaped your lips when you heard his door close, the sound still too loud for your liking. But a long, hard day called for some relief and you’d waited long enough.

Living with your big brother was exhausting, every day focused on making sure you always knew your place. He was so serious and commanding all the time, scolding you for the slightest misstep.

‘Nii-chan is only doing what’s best for you,’ he would reassure you in his soft, deep voice.

Every. Single. Time.

You thought about the particular time you wore your skirt too short and had been forced across his knee to receive your punishment; the soft skin of your rear marred with his big red handprints, adding just one more while he spoke those comforting words. Or maybe it had been when you foolishly misspoke in front of his friends; behind closed doors he had grabbed you by the hair with his left hand, pushing your face against the wall as his ice-tipped right hand flittered across your body, sending tendrils of controlled freezing wherever he pleased as he spoke those words again.

Or maybe--

Your entire body tensed, hips arching ever so slightly, and your breath shuddered thinking about how Shouto would punish you. You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth pricking at your skin as you told yourself over and over that you shouldn’t feel this way, not about him, not about your Nii-chan.

A short, broken whimper slipped through your lips, the once gentle heat that had been but a tantalizing ripple in your core now undulated hotly with an embarrassing lust and need. Your itching fingers searched at the sheet beneath you, your toes curled as you gripped at it in exasperation.

You groaned, pushing your head back against your pillow, hair splayed messily as you shook it back and forth.

It’s not right… is it?

You strained against the moan that threatened to escape as it pushed against your throat, your imagination invoking the feeling of Shouto’s hands raking their way down your body, teasing you with his quirk as he always would. A prickling of heat there, a shock of cold here.

There was no escaping it; your soft, contemptible moan broke free of your lips despite your best efforts. You inhaled sharply through trembling lips as your right hand wandered across the silk of your nightgown, your stomach fluttered beneath the touch of the dainty material when your fingers brushed against it.

Without a second thought, you balled the nightgown in your hands and ruched it up high around your midriff. You altered your position slightly in the process, widening up your pelvis as your right hand resumed its place at your hip. You fingered gently at the filly seam of your panties, back and forth along the sensitive skin above your groin.

Letting your eyes wander over to the left, they fell upon a plushie on your bedside table, the over-the-top flames and garish orange and blue stood out among everything else. Your father’s stern eyes glared right at you.

Of all things, it had to be Endeavor...

You scoffed, furrowing your brow, turning your eyes to look up at the canopy above your head. Your hand still fiddled away at your panties, enjoying the pleasurable feeling it sent further down.

You brought your free hand to your chest and for a moment, merely cupped your breast, feeling the weight rest against your palm. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you moved your other hand down, tentatively rubbing at your slightly parted lips beneath more silk. You pressed down gently on your already swollen clit, shuddering and whimpering when an overpowering wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your mind wandered and so did your hand; you reached for the plushie with your left and passed it over to your right.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you whispered, pulling it beneath the blanket.

Any nervousness you felt abated when you pressed the stuffed toy against your mound, releasing a soft moan as you pushed it down until you felt a pleasant pressure against your throbbing clit.

You closed your eyes, your hips gently moving to grind against the toy, and thought of sitting on your Nii-chan’s lap.

You had been sitting at the table with him and his friends, and of course, he had encouraged you to sit on him instead of standing. You had straddled him, facing the table, with one of his muscular thighs held between yours.

You moaned, lost in the thought, as you held down harder on the plushie as you humped against it.

You recalled just how you’d sat on him, feeling the muscles beneath you tense, your panties and his slack trousers the only barrier between you. You’d felt his hands on your hips, just below the eyesight of his friends, begin to move you slowly and deliberately. Surely they had seen how bright you’d turned as you humped against your Nii-chan’s leg, and you were sure he could feel your wetness on his leg as--

You moved with more vigor as you allowed your memory to consume you; you brought your left hand back to your breast, biting your bottom lip again as you cupped it in your hand. Your thumb gently brushed against your erect nipple through the nightgown and the soft silk against your sensitive skin made you squirm.

You brought your legs up, a low groan broke from your throat, your position now granting you much more movement of your hips.

“Daddy,” you whined, your eyes shot open with horrific realization.

Adding to your already awkward situation, you watched in fear as the door to your bedroom opened.

“Daddy, huh?” a familiar voice chastised.

He was so smug as he sauntered in through the half-open door, his eyes peering at you through his half-red, half-white hair. You knew you had been caught red-handed, you also knew he would be sure to enjoy it.

“I- It’s not,” you stammered, stalling as you attempted to figure a way out of this predicament.

“It’s not what, little sister?” he implored as he closed the door behind him.

It barely made a sound.

You only watched as his tall, striking figure approached your bedside; his broad, muscular chest was bare, your eyes wandered down to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. Not only did you feel flush at the sight of the bulge below the band, but you felt the quickening throb of your clit beneath the plushie between your thighs. You clenched tightly.

How much worse can this get?

“Well?” he pressed on, stern and severe as he folded his thick arms across his chest.

You internally reprimanded yourself for admiring the way his pectoral muscles squeezed beneath the bulk of his arms, the way the minimal lighting accentuated the definition of his biceps and his tight abdomen.

Shouto examined your silhouette beneath your blanket, there was no mistaking the outline of your knees in the air, legs spread.

“Nii-chan asked you a question, little sister,” he prompted, bending over to rest his palms on the edge of your bed. He turned his head to look at you; he had never needed to give you a verbal telling off, his cold eyes said everything he needed to. “Don’t be so rude.”

“I wasn’t--”

You didn’t have the time to react to Shouto gripping the blanket between his hands, pulling it away from you, unveiling your shameful act. Your nose prickled, tears welling behind your eyes as you let your hold on the plushie go, your hand falling to your side, but you dare not lower your legs; you brought the hand at your breast down to rest above your abdomen. You felt so exposed as you fiddled nervously at the hem you’d bunched up.

Silly girl.

You felt the pressure under his heavy gaze as he scanned you up and down, but you noticed his not-so-hidden bulge twitch beneath his trousers when he looked below your hips. He let the blanket drop to the floor and reached out.

Shouto lifted the Endeavor plushie from between your legs, revealing your sodden garment; the silk had turned darker from your wetness.

You watched as he turned the plushie over in his hands, still looming over you.

“Tell me,” he began, carelessly throwing it over his shoulder, “why do you need Daddy when your Nii-chan is right here?”

He placed his right hand on your thigh closest to him.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, little sister,” he continued, squeezing it tight.

You let out a meek cry as the cold he generated slowly froze your skin. He tutted at you, shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed and rested between your legs, low on his knees. Not once did he remove his bitingly cold hand, he only turned it as he clambered over you.

You were only slightly relieved when he stopped using his quirk, you knew you would be feeling the discomfort for a day or two. You only hoped that you hadn’t angered Nii-chan enough that he refused to take care of you afterward. The thought alone was enough to break your heart.

You gasped, feeling a pleasantly familiar tingle as he stroked at you with his left hand, running his finger up and down the concealed slit beneath your soaked panties. Your Nii-chan seemed to like that, the smirk that formed on his lip was devilish.

You flinched under the pressure of his finger against your clit, the sensitive, swollen nub pulsing against the silk. With half-lidded eyes, you watched as both hands crept their way to your waistband.

You nibbled at your lip, nervously.

“Don’t play delicate, my dear, sweet little sister,” he cooed, words saccharine sweet as he snapped at the elastic.

“I’m not, Nii-chan,” you shot at him, your voice may have been trembling but that attitude was certainly present in your tone.

He wouldn’t approve of that.

You watched, mouth agape, as he tucked his fingers of both hands beneath your waistband, he was still smirking as he roughly tugged at them, yanking them down your legs. You understood it would have been futile to push back against him; your Nii-chan had the strength and his unique quirk, you would always just be his pathetic, quirkless little sister.

Hanging your head in shame, you allowed him to move your legs as he removed your underwear; they hung as lifeless as a doll’s.

“Oh, but you are,” he corrected, gently setting your legs back to their upright position. “And Nii-chan is never wrong, is he?”

His hands felt like gentle kisses against your thighs as he leaned into you, his head nestled comfortably between your trembling thighs. You shook your head with a squeak, your voice pushed uncomfortable against your throat.

“Nii-chan only does what’s best for you, sweet sister,” you felt the vibrations of his low tones against your legs when he spoke.

His fingers created delicate trails across your sensitive skin; across your hips, your pelvis, before resting painfully close to where you compulsively needed him.

“Nii-chan is the only one who knows what’s best for you,” his words were slightly muffled as he continued, his lips so impossibly close to your tantalizingly sweet and prohibited, virginal cunt.

A loose moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm breath against your naked arousal more intense than you could have imagined. You felt him move to place his forefingers on either side of your clit, widening them to spread your lips.

“Isn’t that right, little sister?” he finally continued, you felt rather than heard him.

“Nii-chan, you can’t,” you whimpered, quivering from either anticipation or unease, you couldn’t quite tell.

His eyes met yours, gazing up at you from between your legs, your poor cheeks prickling from the constant flush.

“‘Can’t,’ what?” he teased, his eyes never broke contact as he intruded your walls with his fingers without warning. “This?”

He watched you, obviously pleased as you squirmed and cried beneath him as your body experienced a newer sensation; it was different, far more different than when you had tentatively explored yourself. Two of your own slender fingers barely compared to one of his.

But now your Nii-chan had opened you up nicely with two of his thick fingers while he teased you, blowing a gentle breath against your clit. You whined, balling the sheet beneath you in one hand and your nightgown in the other.

“Nii-chan… don’t,” you cried half-heartedly, feeling his lips encapsulate your thrumming clit.

You felt the vibration of his mocking laugh right up against you, crying out when his tongue tickled at your bundle of nerves.

He pushed his left hand under your leg, enticed by the way you squirmed beneath him when he squeezed your asscheek. He enjoyed the way your flesh felt in his palm, softly kneading it with his hand.

The uncontrollable, fluttering little moans you rewarded him with when he pushed his way deeper into your untouched walls, suckling at your delicate nub, only encouraged his debaucherous act.

You keened as he hooked his fingers further inside your cunt, massaging that special spot that made you convulse beneath him. When your vision started to pock with white spots, you clenched your eyes shut, biting your lips against your sinful noises.

Your Nii-chan took this as an incentive to generously lap at your clit. You cried and held your fists tighter, your knuckles white as he slurped loudly at your juices, abusing your sopping wet hole with his fingers.

Shouto’s hand squeezed your asscheek again, you felt the prickling heat as he used his quirk. The pang of panic you felt soon dissipated when, with one final thrust of his thick fingers finding your delicious sweet spot, he began to rub vigorously.

A feeble whimper broke through your moans when he released your engorged clit from his mouth, he held his steady momentum against your g-spot while you came undone.

“Nii-chan knows best for his little sister, doesn’t he?” he asked, his calmness was eerie.

You only responded with your titillating noises, and while he enjoyed them, it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

“Answer me, sweet sister,” he growled as he halted his fingers.

The gyration of your hips only made him chuckle.

“So needy and innocent, aren’t you,” he mused, pressing his thumb against your clit. “Now,” he continued, “Nii-chan kno--”

“Yes,” you cried, now almost tearing at the fabric in your hands, “Nii-chan knows best!”

Shouto watched as your pert breasts heaved up and down with your erratic breathing while he rewarded you by moving his fingers roughly against your sweet spot. He smirked, hearing a deliciously guttural moan break free from you as your walls tightened and hips shuddered. He felt your body spasm as you came, your slick pooling on his palm.

He didn’t seem satisfied.

You sobbed, feeling a foreign pressure coil within you as he roughly fucked you with his fingers. You looked at your Nii-chan with concern.

“Nii-chan it--” you croaked, breathing hard and fast, lost in a tumult of confusion and pleasure.

“Relax my sweet, little sister.” He sounded so soothing while he abused your pretty little cunt, bringing you to heights you didn’t think possible.

You heard him groan as his lips once again came in contact with your clit, it twitched beneath his tongue as he gently circled it; a harsh contrast to his thick, intruding fingers. Your body tensed completely, you heard Shouto groan into you as you finally allowed yourself to let go, your loud whines and moans filled the air.

You felt his fingers struggle against your tight walls, whimpering and twisting beneath him as the coil wound tighter and tighter until--

“Nii-chan!” you sobbed, feeling a pressure release from between your legs and the tightened coil unravel; your head felt fluffy.

Shouto gently removed his thick fingers, moaning long and loud as he pressed his tongue flat against your slit. His strong hands rested on either side of your hips, you flinched, anticipating the quirk use that never came; he stroked your skin with care.

Your Nii-chan tenderly lapped at your tender cunt, moaning as he drank in your juices, honey on his tongue. He enjoyed the noises you made when he pushed his tongue further inside you but thought against pushing you further tonight.

“You’re so precious,” he told you, his eyes dark and intense.

You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, gently laying your legs down flat. He moved your hand from your chest and pulled your nightgown down, sweetly patting it around your thighs.

You were curious as you watched him fumble with your dresser, averting your eyes when he poked through your underwear drawer. Shouto returned to the side of the bed, presenting you with a clean set of panties; you felt a whimper try to escape as he considerately dressed you.

He turned around to pick up your blanket, he smiled down at you softly as he wafted it in the air, letting if fall daintily over you. You noticed he ignored the plushie of your father, still left alone on the floor.

“Sweet dreams, little sister,” he whispered, he gently kissed your forehead as he tucked you under your blanket.

Before leaving your room he made a detour to the end of the bed, you were confused when he bent down.

How embarrassing!

You spotted your wet panties balled up in his hand. He waltzed over to the bedroom door, seemingly proud of himself, and opened it ajar.

“Remember,” he said before leaving you in your haze, “Nii-chan always knows best.”

664 notes · View notes

inevitableconfusion · 4 years ago

Text

Thank you all so much for your response to part one - it’s been incredible!! This turned into an actual beast (I’m talking like 10 pages in microsoft word for just this part) so I have to split it up again. The final chapter will be up by the end of the week! We’re gonna end this thing on a happy note, you guys!!

All Left AU - fanfiction | part one | part two (here) | part three Creator of the au: @sabertoothwalrus (Here’s the post that started it all - cw: blood, gore)

Read on ao3

He wakes up on a Tuesday.

It starts out slowly, like waking up from a deep sleep that keeps trying to pull him back in. There are voices, quiet and calm, from somewhere near his feet. There’s a rhythmic beeping off to his left. Something tickles his nose, and it takes him a second to realize there’s a tube on his face. Beyond the tube, he smells antiseptic and soap, and recognition slowly sets in.

A hospital. He’s in a hospital. He takes a big breath, and lets out a groan.

A chair scrapes against the floor and footsteps hurry across the room. There’s a gentle hand on his cheek. “Adrien?”

His eyelids are heavy, but he manages to blink his eyes open, squinting against the fluorescent light. His sight is fuzzy at first, but there’s a familiar blue gaze above him, and everything starts coming back to him all at once. The fight. Hawkmoth. The wish.

“Ma-” he breaks into a coughing fit, voice scratchy and dry from disuse. Sabine appears with a glass of water and they help him sit up, tipping the rim gently against his lips. The water is cold and soothing, and he takes several long, grateful gulps until the glass is empty.

Before he can try to speak again, Tom comes back into the room with the doctor. “Mister Agreste, glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” he croaks and clears his throat. “How long was I out?”

“About a week.” He jolts. A week? “Miss Dupain-Cheng, could you please step into the hallway? I need to ask him a few questions while he’s awake.”

Marinette seems to hesitate, but the doctor reassures her that it will only be a few minutes, and she eventually nods before turning back to him. “I’ll be right outside, okay? As soon as he’s done, I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Her eyebrows scrunch up a bit and she hesitates again, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. He squeezes back, and she turns and follows her parents out of the room. Everything feels a little colder as soon as she’s gone.

The doctor pulls over a laptop stand and slips some reading glasses over his nose. “Are you feeling any pain, Mr. Agreste?”

“No.” He doesn’t feel anything, actually. He looks down at his lap, where his left hand is fiddling with the hospital blanket, an IV taped against his wrist and an oxygen monitor clamped on his finger. He can see thick white bandages in the corner of his eye, peeking out from under the sleeve hanging off his right shoulder. “Just… a little sore.”

“That’s okay,” the doctor says, “soreness is to be expected. But if you start feeling lots of pain, tell me or the nurses and we can give you a stronger medication.” He pauses, taking his glasses off and looking Adrien in the eye for the first time since he entered the room. His expression is solemn and his voice is quiet, almost apologetic. “We tried our best to save your arm, but the damage was too extensive. The bone had been crushed in a couple of different areas and some of the nerves and blood vessels were pretty badly frayed –”

The words fade into the background as his mind flashes back to that day with excruciating clarity. The musty smell of the lair. His mother in a glass coffin. Hawkmoth charging at him with terrifying speed. Pain and more blood than he’s ever seen before, screaming, a flash of light as he de-transformed, his arm –

The doctor’s hand on his shin snaps him back to reality. The beeping of the heart monitor has picked up noticeably, so he closes his eyes and takes deep, shaky breaths until it slows down to a more acceptable pace. “Mr. Agreste, are you alright?”

He winces at the name. “Please, call me Adrien.” There’s a stinging behind his eyes and he can’t bring himself to look at the doctor, instead choosing to stare off to the side.

After a pause, the doctor slowly straightens back up. “I… I apologize, Adrien. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He doesn’t say anything in response; the sound of typing fills the room. A few inconsequential questions later, and the doctor leaves as quickly as he came in.

Marinette walks in as soon as the doctor is gone, just as she promised, nervously fiddling with something in her hands. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed, bites her lip for a second, and then holds out her hand to him. He takes a sharp breath. The silver ring shines beautifully even in the cold light of the hospital room. He can feel it calling out to his soul, an invisible siren song pulling him forward.

“I wanted to make sure you got this back. If… if you want it.”

He reaches out tentatively. The metal is surprisingly warm, cradled safely in the palm of her hand. He blinks back tears, curling his fingers around the miraculous. “Thank you, Marinette.”

She lets out the breath she was holding. “Here, I’ll…” she trails off, gently grabbing his hand so she can slip the ring on his finger. Her hands are shaking. Even after the ring is in place, her touch lingers, clearly lost in thought. It must be a painful memory for her, too.

He threads his fingers between hers and squeezes their palms together. Thank you. She offers a small, sad smile and squeezes back before letting go. Everything feels a little more right in the world.

She reaches up and touches her earring. “Plagg and Tikki… all of the kwamis have been dormant since… for the past two weeks. I don’t think they’re gone forever, but I don’t know when…”

She trails off and he frowns, his thumb tracing the underside of the silver band. Plagg is gone. Maybe not forever, but probably for a while, at least. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

He curls his hand into a fist. “And… and fa – Hawkmoth?”

She takes a moment to speak, as if trying to figure out how to answer him. “He… he’s in a coma. Here in the hospital.” Another beat of silence. “Do you want to see hi-”

“No,” he cuts her off. He doesn’t want to see that man. He doesn’t want to see him ever again.

Marinette doesn’t say anything in response, but he knows she understands. Of all people, she would understand. She gently touches his hand, uncurling his fist into something looser, and he relaxes. He’s always found comfort in her touch – from both sides of her. Marinette. Ladybug. Two of the most important people in his life, now one.

“How many people know about our identities now?”

She frowns, and he notices for the first time just how exhausted she looks. Like she hasn’t slept the entire week since the fight. “Everyone.”

“What?” His stomach drops. Everyone?

“The… when the ambulance came, so did the police.” Her voice is thick and she grips his hand tighter. “I guess your father confessed when he called, because they knew, somehow. They just – they saw me, and then they saw you, and I didn’t – I couldn’t –” A tear slips down her cheek, but she blinks quickly and wipes it away. “And then the media caught wind, and it was just… chaos.” She closes her eyes, her voice a broken whisper. “There were so many people.”

Everyone. They all know who he is. Who they are. They all know what happened. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He feels so lost. But then, he feels the weight of the ring on his finger – solid, smooth, and real. She gave it back to him. And she still has her earrings.

That… that has to mean something, right?

He looks at her carefully. “So, what do we do?”

She sniffles and opens her eyes. Her expression is firm. Steady. Determined. And even through the tears, it’s just so Ladybug. “We face it, together.”

Adrien’s heart stutters. Together. He lifts his hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing over the soft skin under her eye. He swallows the lump in his throat. “For the record, I’m really glad it’s you.”

Her brows scrunch up and she takes a shaky breath. She lifts a hand to cover his, pressing it against her cheek. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

He gives her a watery smile, feeling his own tears well up. “It’s you and me against the world, m’lady.”

“Always,” she whispers.

He feels his face crumble as everything comes crashing down. She throws her arms around him, pulling him closer, hugging him tighter, until there’s no space between them. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, finally letting out all of the emotions he’s been holding back.

He’s alive. She’s alive. They made it.

His father dies on a Thursday.

It doesn’t really come as a shock; he’s been waiting for the news since he first woke up two days ago. The doctors have been doing everything they can to keep him alive, but Adrien knew that nothing would help in the end. The wish saved his life, so it would take his father’s. The universe has to balance out, and nothing can change that.

What does come as a shock is information that he’s given directly after.

His head shoots up, eyes wide. “Nathalie is missing?” He hadn’t even thought to ask about Nathalie, given everything that’s been going on.

Officer Raincomprix pauses, then slowly closes his notepad. “We… have reason to believe that Miss Sancouer was working with Hawkmoth, under the name ‘Mayura’.”

“What?!” Marinette shrieks, leaping to her feet so quickly that her chair knocks over. “Why are we just being told this now?”

The officer holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, but since you can’t turn into Ladybug and Chat Noir right now, we could not risk having you try to go after her. It seems Ms. Sancoeur has fled the country, but we are doing everything we can to track her down and bring her back. Justice will prevail in the end!”

“She has a miraculous! We don’t know when they’re going to become active again, so the fact that she’s still out there means she’s still dangerous! And now that she knows our identities, don’t you think she’s going to come after us first?”

“Not to worry. By then, we’ll either have her locked up, or you’ll be Ladybug again. Either way, it wouldn’t be smart for her to try anything.”

“I am still Ladybug. And you have a duty to-”

“Wait!” Adrien shouts, interrupting them both. There’s a strange mix of cold emptiness and white-hot rage boiling up inside him. He feels his body shaking. “Wait. Did Gorilla know about this, too?”

Officer Raincomprix’s eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

“The Gorilla! My bodyguard!”

“Oh. No, he has been cleared of all involvement and released.”

Adrien rubs his eyes and then pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his best to hold off the sudden, unwelcome tears building up. “Okay. So, two out of the three people living in my house were secretly trying to hurt me for years. Got it. Cool.”

“Ad-”

“I need a moment,” he snaps, and then sighs and softens his tone. “Please.”

They are quiet for a few seconds, and the policeman offers his thanks for their time before leaving, closing the door with a soft click. Adrien still has his eyes closed, but he can feel Marinette’s concerned gaze on him.

“Are you okay?”

His shoulders sag, feeling heavier and heavier as the day goes on. He leans back against the pillows on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t feel like crying anymore, he just feels tired. “It’s… a lot to take in.” He rolls his head to the side and gives her an apologetic look.

Sometimes he’s thankful that she can read him so well. She offers a gentle smile and grabs his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m gonna head home a little early today. See if you can get some rest before your therapy session, alright? I’m only a text away.”

She starts to pull away, but before she can get too far, he tugs her hand closer and kisses her knuckles. Thank you.

She stares for a bit too long, and he realizes belatedly that that was a very Chat Noir thing to do. Warmth crawls up his neck and over his cheeks, but there’s a fondness on her face that he’s not used to seeing. “See you tomorrow, kitty.”

Silence fills the room after she leaves, and it would be enough to drive him crazy if he had the energy to think. Instead, he lies back and closes his eyes.

Father is dead.

He wakes up in a cold sweat. Just as quickly as the thought comes, the memory of whatever nightmare he was having fades into nothing. He’s not sure how long he managed to sleep. A few minutes? A few hours?

A gentle knock on the door tells him it was the latter. It’s time for his therapy session. He’s not ready. He’s never ready.

The physical therapy they’ve been having him do every day has been tough. His muscles are sore from a week of being unconscious, and his right shoulder hurts with even the barest movement. He has to re-learn how to do everything with only one arm – going to the bathroom, carrying large items, writing with his non-dominant hand. Even the once-simple act of tying his shoes or buttoning a shirt has left him in frustrated tears a few times.

Yet, the emotional therapy is so much harder. It’s difficult to turn his jumble of thoughts into words, much less coherent ideas that he can then dissect and analyze. And every time the counselor tries to bring up his father, he completely shuts down. Progress is slow and mentally taxing, and tonight is no different.

He finishes his dinner in a daze and Louise – one of his nurses – comes in. She sets his empty plate to the side and starts unwrapping the bandages on his arm to check on the stitches. She tries to make small-talk, but Adrien only answers half-heartedly, and eventually the conversation peters out. He feels a little bad; she’s a very kind lady, but he just doesn’t have the energy to talk. All he wants to do now is sleep.

After re-wrapping the bandages, Louise pulls an envelope out of the pocket of her scrubs and wordlessly hands it to him. He takes it, tossing her a questioning glance. “It’s a get-well-soon letter.” She picks up the dinner tray and gives him a small smile. “We thought it might make you feel better.”

She walks out of the room and he stares down at the letter, debating with himself. The exhaustion wins out in the end and he sighs, setting the unopened letter on the bedside table. He’ll get to it tomorrow.

The funeral is on a Friday.

His Aunt Amelie has insisted on have at least a bare-bones ceremony, because even though no one wants to honor the man who’d terrorized Paris for the past three years, she still wants the people close to him to have the opportunity to say their proper goodbyes. And by people, she means him.

Adrien doesn’t want to go, but his counselor thinks it could be cathartic, an opportunity to get everything off his chest. The hospital releases him an hour before the funeral starts, and even in death, he realizes he’s still stuck under his father’s thumb.

When he walks into the lobby, Gorilla is sitting by the door, and he feels a flood of relief. The man stands as soon as he spots Adrien, and his stoic face melts into something softer before engulfing him in a hug.

Gorilla isn’t officially his bodyguard anymore. He isn’t being paid; he has no obligation to be here. He has the right to uproot his life and start fresh somewhere new. Adrien wouldn’t blame him if he did. And yet, here he is.

It… it means a lot.

They step out of the doors together and are immediately swarmed by the paparazzi, the sound of inaudibly shouted questions and incessant camera shutters filling the air. Thankfully, Gorilla manages to mostly block his body from view, and they’re in the car just a few steps later.

The funeral itself is nothing to marvel at. A small church that he’s never set foot in, a simple urn, a wreath of flowers next to a picture of his father. It’s the only photo he’s ever seen with his father smiling; a family portrait from when he was a child. A happy, loving family that’s long since disappeared. The pews are almost empty, since very few people were allowed to attend. Not that many wanted to attend, anyway. He sits alone at the back, eyes scanning over the rest of the guests as the organ music drones on and on. The priest is kneeling off to the side, dutifully entranced in prayer. His aunt and cousin are in the second row; Andre and Audrey Bourgeois in the middle section; Roger Raincomprix and Gorilla standing guard at the doors. And that’s it. The only people in the world who cared about his father, all gathered in one room. Not a teardrop in sight.

He slouches in his seat, very aware of how much he does not want to be here. But someone sits down next to him, and he jumps. There, wearing a simple black dress, blonde hair in a sleek updo, looking like she’s halfway to tears, is Chloe Bourgeois.

“Chloe?” he whispers, unable to hide his shock at her presence. He hasn’t seen Chloe in… months. At least three or four months, probably. Not since he’d confronted her about her increasingly cruel behavior, and she’d subsequently cut him out of her life.

But here she is, eyes locked on the dangling sleeve of his suit jacket. Without a word, she reaches out and touches the sleeve, slowly closing her hand around it, as if afraid to see if it was truly empty. It is empty, of course. The realization seems to hit her hard, and she clasps her other hand to her mouth to muffle a gasp. She looks up at him, mascara already starting to run down her cheeks. “Adrien, I’m so sorry.”

It’s a little weird. Chloe’s become almost a caricature of herself over the years, really leaning into her mean-girl attitude, especially after cutting Adrien out. So, it’s strange to see her be so… vulnerable now. The way she’s looking at him, it reminds him of the girl he used to know growing up; the girl who shared her teddy bear when he cried, who played with him when he was lonely, who always stood up for him whenever his father was angry. Something like hope sparks in his chest, seeing her now. Maybe, just maybe, his friend isn’t totally gone after all. Maybe she just needs a friend, too. Someone to pull the old her out of this new shell.

He feels the corner of his mouth lift a little. “I lost an arm, Chloe. I didn’t die.” She wipes away her tears, taking a moment to compose herself. “I thought you hated my father?”

“I didn’t come here for him,” she scoffs. “I came here to support you, Adrikins.”

That’s… actually touching. A small, fond smile tugs at his lips. “Thanks, Chlo. It means a lot that you’re here.”

She faces the front and rests her head on his shoulder – a brief, silent show of solidarity. He rests his head against hers in response, and when the organ music cuts out, they both sit up straight. The priest walks to the front and begins the service with a solemn “Thank you all for coming,” and Adrien has to fight not to scowl. He wouldn’t have come if he’d had the choice.

Marinette plops down at his other side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry I’m late, the police almost didn’t let me in.”

He ducks his head closer to her, feeling significantly more at-ease. “That’s okay. I’m glad you made it.”

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. But she stiffens when her eyes lock onto something over his shoulder, and he realizes with some apprehension that she’s caught sight of Chloe. The two girls are staring each other down, and the air that hangs between them is so thick that he’s almost choking on it. But the tension breaks when Chloe gives her a curt nod, and Marinette nods back in some sort of weird understanding, and they face the front again.

The sermon is as short and to-the-point as it can be, but it still feels like it drags on. Marinette holds his hand the entire time, and it’s the only thing that keeps him from disassociating. When the priest asks if anyone would like to come up and say a few words, Adrien stays silent.

Afterward, as people are leaving, the priest offers the urn to him. He tries to refuse, but Aunt Amelie suggests that he take the urn to the mansion and spread his father’s ashes in the garden, next to the statue of his mother. And well… it’s as good an idea as any.

The ride to the mansion is silent. It’s just him and Gorilla now, and his bodyguard was never much of a talker. Not that he feels like talking, anyway. Adrien looks down at the urn resting in his lap, and frowns. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to his father, aside from that day. He can’t even remember the last time his father had hugged him. And here he is, cradling his ashes gingerly, as if he – as if he cares.

Gorilla stays in the car while he steps out, choosing to walk around the exterior to get to the garden. He doesn’t dare step foot inside the mansion. The last time he was here… well, it wasn’t a good memory. He didn’t have a lot of good memories here, actually. At least not after his mother died.

And his mother wasn’t really gone, it turns out. She had been in the basement for years, frozen in some sort of awful cryo-sleep. She was always there, waiting in limbo; while father was torturing him, and his friends, and all of Paris; while his house – the place where he was supposed to feel safest – became a prison; while his only remaining parent cut his arm off… all in the name of bringing her back.

Adrien sets the urn on the grass and takes off the lid. It really is a beautiful urn. It’s a shame it holds such an evil man.

He picks up the urn with only a little difficulty and starts spreading the ashes as best as he can, taking care to keep them close to his mother’s statue so it won’t harm the other plants. Now – now he can be with his wife for eternity. It’s what he wanted, isn’t it? Never mind his son, never mind that he still had family – all that mattered was bringing his wife back from the dead.

All of the love Adrien had for his father, all this time… it was all one-sided. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The empty urn drops onto the grass with a dull thud.

He’d done everything his father had asked. For years, he’d done everything – things he didn’t want to do – piano, fencing, Chinese lessons, homeschooling, modeling, all of it. He was left to grieve his mother alone, he was isolated in his home, he was kept from having friends and seeing other family; all while working sun up to sun down, until he was exhausted to the bone, and even then being pushed to do more. And despite it all, he tried his best to be the perfect well-behaved son that his father expected him to be. He – he’d tried so hard just to get a little praise, a little attention, a little love, but he never did.

His father had been so blinded by his goal of resurrecting his wife, that he failed to realize that he still had a son. He had his son, right there, hurting and in need of a father when it mattered most. And he hurt him further. Adrien wanted love, and all he ever got was pain, pain, pain.

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough. He was never enough.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the tears drip onto his hand. He wipes roughly at his cheeks, but they just keep coming. He’s crying – why is he crying over this? Over this person, this person who caused him so much anguish? This person who was supposed to love him?

He feels stupid for crying. He feels angry.

Why?

The question he wanted to ask his father as he slipped out of consciousness. The question he will never truly know the answer to.

Why?

A wave of grief crashes over him, knocking him to his knees. He curls in on himself, ribs pressing into his legs so hard that he can barely breathe.

Why?

Because despite it all, despite everything, he couldn’t hate his father. He wanted to, god, he wanted to. He wanted to be able to move on, to carve out all memory of him and live the rest of his life in peace, to say he hated the man who had cut off his arm and ruined his life. Yet, he can’t. He can’t erase the memories of playing in the garden with his mother and father, laughing in the sunshine, his father smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world. He can’t shake off the ghost of his father’s arms, circling him in a hug when he got home from his first day at school. He can’t unsee the panic, the regret, the tears dripping from his father’s face after he de-transformed. His father was the only family he had left. Adrien had loved him so much, so unconditionally, for so long, that he – he didn’t know how to hate him.

Why didn’t you love me back?

Strong arms pull him off the ground and into a hug, and it just makes him cry harder. It’s like everything he’s been holding back, everything he’s been refusing to let himself feel, is all crashing out of him at once. The flood gates are open and there’s no turning back.

He’s angry, and he’s confused, and lonely, and sad, and relieved, and it’s just – it’s all too much.

“I was there, that day, before the ambulance came.”

It’s the first time Adrien has ever heard Gorilla speak, and it’s enough to startle him out of his thoughts. His voice is deep, but quiet.

“It took me a while to break into the room, but by the time I did, you were already unconscious. So was Gabriel, and Marinette was kneeling by your body. She looked so scared.”

Adrien pulls back and looks at Gorilla, sniffling and wiping at his eyes.

“She told me who she was,” he says, “and who you were, and who Gabriel was. She said that there was a wish – that, if you make a wish using two of the miraculous, it could save you. Your father knew this, and wouldn’t let Marinette make the wish herself. He was the only one who knew the incantation, and he refused to tell her unless she gave him the miraculous.”

What?

“She had no choice, so she gave them over. He made the wish, and then he collapsed.” Gorilla moves his giant hands to rest on Adrien’s shoulders. “Your father loved you. He was proud of you. I heard the way he talked about you when you weren’t around. He tried to do what was best for you, he just went about it the wrong way.” Gorilla pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “He wasn’t… a good man. But he did love you.”

Adrien’s gaze falls, a few fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “I… I can’t forgive him.”

“You don’t have to. No one has to. What he did – especially what he did to you – was unforgiveable. But,” he tips up Adrien’s chin so he can look him in the eyes, “You can’t hold onto this anger forever. Your father couldn’t get over his grief, and that was what lead him down the wrong path. Negative emotions like this, they’re important to feel – they’re what make us human. But if we hold onto them for too long, they can turn us into monsters.”

A shiver runs up his spine. He doesn’t want to turn out like his father. He doesn’t want to be another monster that his father created. But he can’t… he doesn’t know how to move past this. Not when looking at his reflection, seeing his missing arm, is a daily reminder of what his father did to him. “How? How do I let it go?”

Gorilla pulls him into a gentle hug. “You do better. Be better than he was. Turn your anger around into something good. It’s okay if you don’t know how yet. You are the strongest person I know, Adrien. And you have all of us – your friends, and your family, and all of Paris – behind you, to help you. We’ll always be here, so don’t worry about facing this alone, because you are not alone.”

The words are a weight lifted off his chest, a warm fire melting the ice that has surrounded his heart since his mother died. You are not alone.

He closes his eyes and buries himself into Gorilla’s chest.

That night, he’s the one to bring up the topic of his father in therapy. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

#ml all left au #all left au #miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #angst #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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thoughtlessgayfrog · 4 years ago

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okay so like remember how I keep saying I write things

boom bitches here’s a ficlet for you all now there’s PROOF I write things

anyway I stole the prompt from some prompt list I reblogged at some point, it’s here if you like my writing and want to send me requests. more info in tags anyway back to my proof of writing here you all go :)

Prompt 9, “I fed your pet while you were away.”

“Why did you take Trucy’s key?”

Klavier blinked. Stepping back into the hospital room, an accusatory glare wasn’t the greeting he’d expected. “Hm? ”Trucy’s key. To my apartment.” Apollo was glaring at him as best he could from his reclined position, blue coat wrapped defensively around his shoulders. “She told me she lent it to you. Why.”

“Oh!” Klavier smiled, sitting down in the bedside chair. “I apologize for not waiting for you to wake up to ask you yourself. It’s just, I remembered you saying something about having a cat at some point, and it struck me that you haven’t gotten the chance to visit home in these past few days. I offered to take care of checking on it and the fräulein was kind enough to let me borrow her key.”

“I’ve never mentioned Mikeko to you.”

“Well…” Technically, that was true. Klavier had just happened to overhear him telling Trucy a story about the animal some odd day and he’d remembered it. “Ja, it must have come up in conversation with the little lady.”

“Mm.” The tension in Apollo’s brow didn’t cease, but the accusation in it faded.

“…you said Mikeko?”

“Yeah.” A hint of fondness seeped into his voice. “She’s been my roommate for a while now. I guess I… forgot all about her in the middle of everything.” He sat up, wincing as he jostled his IV. “God, I forgot all about her… is she okay?”

Klavier nodded. “She’s fit as a fiddle, no need to worry. Very energetic, ran right up to me-“

“Does she have enough food? Was her water bowl full? Did she look okay, did she wreck anything? How is she?”

“Relax, Forehead.” Klavier took out his phone, searching for the couple pictures he’d snagged of the cat. “I can assure you, she’s perfectly alright. I would not have come over so calm if something had gone wrong.” He turned the screen to show Apollo a selfie of himself with Mikeko bent over her food in the background. “I hope you don’t mind, I couldn’t find any brand kibble so I fed her the half-eaten tuna in your fridge.”

Apollo reached a shaky hand to take the phone, staring at the selfie as if it was the most important thing he’d ever seen. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine, that’s what I usually feed her. She’s spoiled rotten and she knows it.”

“She certainly seems that way,” Klavier chuckled. “The moment she realized I meant no harm, she talked at me relentlessly until I found the food.”

“That’s Mikeko for you.”

Klavier hummed in response. They drifted into silence, Apollo trained on the phone.

“…thank you.”

Klavier looked up. Apollo held out his phone, eye cast to the side. His tone was hesitant, riddled with guilt, with an expression to match. Klavier tucked his the cellular away with another nod. “Of course. With all you’re dealing with right now, I know how easy it can be to let the smaller things slip away. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you whenever you get discharged.”

“Right.” A hitched inhale and Apollo met his gaze. His visible eye shone with unshed tears; whether they were from the cat, or the situation overall, no one knew. “You can, um. Keep the key. If you want.” Klavier perked up at that, and ever observant Apollo flushed red and stumbled over himself to backtrack. “Just like- I mean i-if you wanted to- if you ha- if you have the time you could check on her again, just- until I get out? Y’know? I mean you don’t- I can get you a separate copy- so you can give it back- Mikeko’s probably- I mean just if you have the time-“

“Forehead.” Klavier was hardly hiding his smile behind his hand. “I will keep an eye on her until you can go home. It’s no trouble, I promise.”

Apollo reached up to mess with the bandage around his eye. He didn’t speak for a moment, two, then nodded. His tone was uncharacteristically soft; Klavier wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the attorney speak so quietly. “Okay.”

“She’s in good hands, schatz.” He held up his palms as if they were proof. “I will care for her like she is one of my own.”

“You don’t own any cats, Klavier.”

“So? She is the perfect place to start!”

“A spoiled, grumpy old lady? You’re in for a treat if you think she’s easy to manage.”

Klavier scoffed. “Oh, please. How hard can taking care of her be? I just give her food, water, a little treat here and there…”

“How long do you think you’re going to be in my apartment?”

“As long as it takes to win over your miezekatze, of course!”

“I’m regretting asking you for this.”

“Too late, schatzi, I’m already formulating a plan to steal her from you.”

“Hah, hardly. She’d get sick from all your glitter spreading around the place.”

Klavier put a hand over his chest, gasping in mock offense. “I would never spread glitter around your apartment, Forehead, who do you think I am?!”

Apollo snorted. “You’re right, you’re more likely to just leave your cologne everywhere. It’s super strong, by the way, I could smell you coming from all the way down the hall.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“I’m sure you are.”

#HAHAHA TAKE THAT I WAS NOT LYING #if u wanna send a request i do exclusively ace attorney #if i don’t ship what u send no worries i will just write it as a platonic fic #i will do both romantic and platonic requests so go nuts bitches #love u all <3 #fanfic #ace attorney #apollo justice #klavier gavin #writing prompt #prompt list #ace attorney fanfiction #klapollo #frogwritesfanfic

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Night Shift - One Shot

a/n: back at it again with another Halloween themed fic! This was inspired by an ask requesting Harry and Y/N both work/meet in the ER. Slight twist on it, but I hope you like it! Reblogs and feedback are super helpful! (not proofread)

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut at the end

Words: 6.8K

Becoming a doctor took a lot of hard work dedication. Countless sleepless nights, a large debt to pay back, finding a hospital to become a resident in, and countless seminars to go to, to make sure all practices were up to date. At first, Y/N hated working the graveyard shift. She rarely got to see friends or family, she was getting minimal amounts of sleep because, let’s face it, sleeping during the day never worked out the way you wanted it to. However, she stopped minding it so much when one of the nicest nurses took his turn on the overnight shifts.

Nurse Styles was usually the voice of reason. He could calm any patient down, and the kids in pediatrics loved him. He always had a lollypop ready to go. All of the nurses took turns with the different shifts so it was fair for everyone. He had heard of Dr. Y/L/N, but had never met her. She was newer to the hospital, a white coat, but still baby-faced. Harry really enjoyed being a nurse, he didn’t want to be the person in there doing surgery, but he liked being able to get things started, and ease someone into the more difficult things. He had a way of administering bad news, and easing the pain from it. His broad shoulders were perfect for crying on, and if it was a kid he needed to prep for getting their appendix out, he held their hand the entire way to the operating room.

Y/N was just getting in, putting her things in her breakroom cubby when Harry walked in. He smiles at her, and she smiles back as he also puts his things away.

“Chilly out there tonight.” He says as he puts his scrubs on over his long sleeve under armor. She only looked for a second, his arm muscles were certainly defined. “I don’t think we’ve properly met yet, I’m Harry.” He extends her hand and she takes it.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, lucky for you I’ll be your nurse for the next couple of months.”

“You seem a little too chipper about working overnight.” She chuckles as she gets her white coat on and stethoscope around her neck.

“I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “A lot of the other nurses have spouses and kids they rarely get to see, so it’s only fair I take my turn on the overnight stuff. I usually take it this time of year anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Halloween crazies start trickling towards the end of September. Think the staff likes having me as extra muscle or whatever.”

Her face pales as she looks at him. She had completely forgotten about Halloween. Last year she worked during the day, but she had heard about all of the nonsense from the entire weekend. Drunk people needing their stomach pumped, car wrecks, people on drugs, etc.

“So, what’s your specialty? You’re not a surgeon are you?” He breaks her from her trance.

“No, I’m not a surgeon, just a regular old doctor. I almost ended up in maternity like a lot of female doctors, but it wasn’t for me.” They both walk into the main area so they can get briefed for the night.

Harry says hello to the other nurses at the desk, and he takes his seat to login into the computer. There was another doctor on the overnight shifts, Dr. Gilles, and Y/N really couldn’t stand him. He was one of those doctors who was sort of rude to the nurses because he had been at the hospital for a while, but he was handsome so a lot of them didn’t even care. He would flirt with Y/N when he’d get the chance, but she didn’t really like it. She’d seen Scrubs, she didn’t need the drama that comes with hooking up with a coworker. Not to mention the guy was, like, forty, and she was only pushing thirty. To some that may not be a big age difference, but it weirded her out nonetheless. It weirded her out more when he’d catch her flirting with some of the younger nurses.

“Evening everyone.” Dr. Gilles. “He says as he walks up to the desk. “Quiet so far?”

“Pretty much.” Nurse Halleran says. “Hope it stays that way. You’ve got a couple of people you just need to check in on.” She hands him a few charts and he nods as he takes them. “How are you, Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Good.” She says as she looks over her cuticles. She feels his eyes burn into her, and she fiddles with some of the pens on the desk. “Nurse Styles, back on the graveyard, huh?”

“Yup.” Harry says with a fake smile. He also did not like Dr. Gilles. He felt protective over the other nurses, and none of them felt uncomfortable by Dr. Gilles, but he was a married man who openly flirted with people, and that kind of behavior just didn’t fly with Harry. “Dr. Y/L/N, one of your patients needs their vitals checked. Young thing, coming down from a bladder and kidney infection.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Harry hands her the chart and she looks it over as they walk to where the patient was sleeping.

Bethany Martin, ten years old, bladder and kidney infection. Another doctor wanted to size her up for an appendix removal, but it was Y/N that discovered that it wasn’t the child’s appendix. The girl had told her the pain had moves from the front of her stomach, to her side, and then to her back. She got major brownie points from the administration for making that catch.

Her and Harry slowly go into the room. Her father was sleeping in one of the fold out chairs provided. He wakes up when he hears the door open.

“Hello, Mr. Martin.” Y/N whispers with a smile. “We’re just going to check on Beth’s vitals, see how her fever’s doing, alright?”

“Sure thing, thank you.” He stands up and goes over to his daughter to help her wake up a little.

“Hmm.” The girl slowly opens her eyes, and then she smiles when she sees Y/N. See, Beth was scared that she was going to get cut open, so she was beyond grateful that she didn’t have to have surgery. “Hello.” She says sleepily.

“Hi, sweetheart, I need to check a few things, would that be alright?” Y/N asks.

“Yes.”

“Hi, Beth, how’s your IV feeling in that hand?” Harry asks her.

“It’s itchy, Nurse Harry.”

He smiles at her. A lot of the kids would call him that instead of Nurse Styles, he thought it was sweet.

“Think we should switch it to your other hand then.”

“Why’s it in her hand and not in her arm?” Y/N questions.

“We had a tough time…this one likes to pull away.” Harry explains and winks at Beth which makes her giggle.

Y/N let’s Harry switch out the IV. She lets Beth hold her hand as she winces from the needle. Once he’s done, Y/N checks everything else. She has Beth roll onto her stomach so she can feel around her back.

“I haven’t been as achy.” Beth says as she gets settled on her back once more. “It still hurts a little though.”

“Mm, I bet. Took us a bit to figure things out with you, but you seem to be doing a lot better. Should only need to be here for another few days. We’ll come back to check on you later this morning.”

“Thank you.” She snuggles back into her blankets and slowly falls back asleep.

Mr. Martin thanks Y/N and Harry before they leave, and she they both go to wash their hands at one of the sink stations.

“Nurse Harry, huh? Do all the little girls call you that?” Y/N smirks.

“Why, jealous?” He bumps his hip to hers before grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. She rolls her eyes at him, and he chuckles. “The kids just tend to call me that, I don’t mind it.”

“It must ease them a bit more to be on a first name basis, I should remember that. I hate seeing kids in pain, I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“I know it sucks, but I actually like working with the kids more. They at least listen to us. Some of these adult patients…they fight us on every little thing sometimes.” They make their way back to the desk.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” Nurse Stevens says to her. “I’m going on a coffee run, would you like anything?”

“You’re an angel, yes”, she reaches into her pocket for some loose singles, “just a regular with a little cream, no sugar, thank you.”

“Harry?” She says to him.

“Brought my thermos, but thanks Ellie.” He smiles at her and she nods before going on her way.

“She’s the best, I’ve worked with her during the day before.” Y/N says to Harry.

“Yeah, Ellie and I came on together.”

“Oh, really?”

Harry hums his response as he types some notes into the computer. Harry and Ellie had a bit of a past, nothing serious, but they had hooked up on occasion. Being a nurse meant working a lot of long days, and that left little room for a social life or companionship. They may or may not have taken advantage of the beds in the room adjacent to the breakroom a few times, but that was a year or so ago. She had started seeing someone, so they ended things amicably.

“Why just the cream and no sugar?” He asks to change the subject.

“Well, for a while I was doing the keto thing, which is absolute rubbish and I never should have done it, but I got into the habit of not adding sugar to things. I don’t like the taste of black coffee, it’s too bitter, so the cream helps. I don’t miss the sugar, in fact, I can’t stand really sugary drinks in general.”

“Why’d you do the keto in the first place?”

“Oh, I was looking to lose some weight before a wedding I had to go to. I was a bridesmaid so I just wanted to look nice in the pictures, you know? It works when you stick to it, but as soon as I stopped I gained most of it back. Deprivation diets are never a good idea, and I knew it, but did it anyways because it was a quick way to do things.” He goes to say something, but decides against it. Her head tilts as she can tell he’s withholding something. “Go ahead, tell me as a doctor it was stupid of me to jump on a fad diet.” She sighs and leans on the tall desk.

“No, I was just going to say…” He blushes slightly. “Well, I just feel bad that you thought you needed to lose any weight because you…well…you must know how beautiful you are as is.”

She stands up straight. She literally just met this man tonight, what was going on? Just as she was about to say something, Ellie comes back with the coffee.

“Here you go.” She smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N takes the coffee. “I’m gonna go take a walk to the other nurse’s station, see how they’re doing. Page me if you need anything.”

Harry watches her walk away and he groans with his head in his hands.

“Don’t tell me.” Ellie smirks. “You have a crush on Dr. Y/L/N…shocking.” Ellie giggles and rolls her eyes.

“I just met her, I don’t have a crush on her. But I may have just said something inappropriate.”

“You?!” Ellie was shocked. “Harry, you’re, like, the nicest person I know. What did you say?”

“I just told her she was beautiful.”

“It’s not like it’s a lie, she’s rather pretty. Seems to take care of herself. It’s not an easy thing to do, especially on these shifts.”

“I know! It just felt weird after I said it. I don’t wanna be like Dr. Gilles, you know?”

“Please.” She scoffs. “You’re nothing like him.”

Y/N does her nightly rounds, checking on her various patients. A few people come in that need to be checked right away, but other than that things were quiet. Around six in the morning she and Harry go to check on little Beth again.

“Definitely only need you here another couple of nights. Keep getting those fluids in, and this fever will go away in no time.” Y/N says.

The girl nods at her tiredly before falling back asleep. Y/N helps out with some last minute patients before going to the breakroom to change. Harry was in there taking his shirt off. She tries not to stare as he pulls a sweatshirt on over himself. She wouldn’t have minded a few more moments to examine his tattoos. She knew he had a few just from his left hand alone, but shit, he had them all over his chest and stomach!

“Well, see you tonight. Hope you can get some sleep.” Harry says to her.

“Same to you.” She smiles and goes into her locker.

“I hope, uh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier in the night…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You didn’t, it’s fine…I’m just one of those people that has a tough time taking a compliment. Um, it happened to me in school a lot too, like, if someone told me I was smart or something, you know?”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I appreciate that, Harry, thank you.”

He nods and heads out. On his way home he realizes he’s far too awake to be able to fall asleep, so when he gets into his flat he takes a sleeping pill, and nestles down with a cup of tea while he watches a little TV. Once his eyes feel tired he heads to bed, getting cozy under his blankets, and eventually passing out.

Y/N does something similar. She definitely takes a sleeping pill before jumping into a warm shower. She pulls her blackout curtains, and gets into bed. Her eyelids feel heavier and heavier as she listens to a podcast, and she slowly falls asleep.

Things went on like that for the next couple of weeks. Harry would often assist Y/N on her rounds. He liked that she wasn’t one of those snooty doctors that discounted the nurses, she really seemed to value their opinions, even consulting with them when she needed to. They became fast friends too, often eating together or taking coffee breaks at the same time. She learned that Harry was a couple of years younger than her, and he had been at this hospital for around five years. He explained he liked working at a hospital rather than a smaller practice so he could help more people, and she said she felt the same way.

“Maybe when I’m, like fifty, I’ll settle and open up my own practice. But only because I might not have the same spring in my step.” She chuckles as they both sit and enjoy some coffee.

“You can really sprint when you need to! You were incredible when that guy came in with that allergic reaction the other night.”

“I was internally freaking out the whole time to be honest with you. I was glad to have you there to help me intubate him.”

“Feel like I can do that with my eyes closed now.” He laughs and finishes his warm drink. “I hate to be one of those people, but you’re looking a little tired tonight.”

“Oh, that’s because I never left this morning. I worked all day, took a nap, and then got right back on it.”

“Y/N, that’s not okay. You can’t do your job properly if you’re tired.”

“I know, but we were short staffed, and I was only going to stay a couple of hours, but I got wrapped up with a couple of people. I’m fine, honest, I’ll have a good sleep when I get home later.”

“Shit like that used to happen to me all the time. I’d work sixteen hour days, and then they’d yell at me because I was getting so much overtime, and I’d tell them to hire more bloody people then. It was infuriating. Then you think the place is gonna fall apart without you when you finally do get some time off.”

“Literally! I think that’s why I got stuck here for so long. I have the next couple of days off, though, so I’m looking forward to that.”

“Yeah? Any big plans?”

“No.” She scoffs. “Not unless you consider binging a fuck ton of television while eating a gallon of ice cream big plans.”

“Depends on the show, what’s on the docket to be binged?”

“I’ve been meaning to sit down and watch Ratched. I’ve heard some mixed reviews, but I’m just so intrigued.”

“Mm, nothing better than a show about a crazy nurse.” He rolls his eyes.

“Aw, feeling a little misrepresented?” She smirks.

“Maybe a wee bit. Let me know if it’s worth the watch, though, yeah?”

“Definitely.” She finishes up her coffee and sighs. “Back to it I suppose.”

“Go lay down if you want, we’re not busy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m catching a second wind.” She stands up and shakes her body out. “See, awake and ready to-“, her beeper goes off, “Shit, some teenagers were just brought in.”

They both hurry out of the breakroom, and go to where they’re needed. Three teenage boys were laying in hospital beds, clearly in pain.

“Alright, what seems to be the problem here?” Y/N says as Harry works on taking their vitals.

“We…fell off the water tower.” One of them says.

She sighs and starts checking for bumps and bruises. She doesn’t ask why they were there, she was sure their parents would rip them a new one for that. A few sprained ankles, and one broken wrist, but nothing too serious otherwise. Y/N gives her instructions to Harry, and tells the boys they’ll need to switch off between aspirin and ibuprofen to help with pain and inflammation. Harry gets the broken wrist into a splint and sling, and gets the others settled as well.

“Isn’t this a little backwards?” One of them says to him after Y/N’s left. “Isn’t she supposed to be the nurse?”

“Well, considering that she went to school for a lot longer than I did, and probably has a lot more knowledge about the body than I do, I’d say she’s supposed to be the doctor.” Harry says.

“Isn’t it weird being a male nurse though?”

“M’not a male nurse.” He makes some notes on the laptop he was using. “I’m just a nurse.” He closes the laptop and looks at the three of them. “Your parents should be here soon, hope you lot feel better, and be safer out there.”

It wasn’t the first time Harry got a comment like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t go to school as premed and then go off to a fancy medical school. He majored in Allied Health in uni, and passed all his tests. That was it, and that was all he wanted to do. There was nothing wrong with that. He was proud of himself. He hoped Y/N was proud of herself too.

Flu shot season was in full swing, and there were usually a couple of days a year the hospital did walk-in appointments so people could come in easily to get them. Harry had picked up a shift to administer them. Y/N had come in to be on call so one of the other doctors could have the day off. She smiles when she sees Harry in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Hey, you.” She says as she sits down. “Weird seeing you in the daylight.”

“Could say the same to you. What’s all this about? Don’t tell me you’re working another triple…” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“No, I swapped shifts with Dr. Jollas so she could have the day with her kids. What are you doing here today?”

“I’m on for the flu shots. It’s an easy enough shift to pick up.”

“Get a lot of people in for that?”

“Sure, tons.”

“That makes me happy to hear.” She sighs.

“How were your couple of days off? Did you watch your show?”

“I only watched about two episodes…there was a lot more gore than I was expecting.”

“Y/N…you’re a doctor…”

“Yes, and I can handle small amounts of blood, especially when I’m in the moment helping someone, but there was literally a scene where they were showing how lobotomies were done and a scene where this kid cut off his own arms, so it was a bit much for me. Not something I should be watching alone, anyways.”

“That’s gross.” Harry grimaces. “Don’t blame you for not getting through it.”

“So I ended up just re-watching The Office for the millionth time. It was perfect.” She chuckles. “Are you working all of Halloween weekend?”

“I am.” He nods. “I hope you’ll add some flare to your outfit. The kids like it when we do.”

“Some flare, huh?”

“I have these scrubs that have pumpkins, ghosts, and black cats on them.”

“Hm, I’ll have to think about what I can add. I have some earrings with witches on them, that could be fun.”

“As long as you get into the spirt somehow. We all decorate the nurse’s station and everything. Ellie usually brings in cupcakes too.”

“Speaking of her…” Y/N leans in a bit. “Did you catch the rock on her finger? I’m happy for her and all, but she said she’s only been with her fiancé for eight months. It’s a bit fast.”

“Well, they were casual before they made things official. She was, uh, seeing a couple of people, and then he asked her to get serious and she did.” He shrugs.

“Oh, I see.” She nods and sits back. “I’m not judging or anything, I mean, I guess when you, you know.” She takes a bite of her food, and then leans back in. “Can I ask you something?” She whispers.

“Always.” He leans in as well. Harry be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy a spot of gossip, and Y/N had become his new favorite person to gossip with. It didn’t take them long to become the two bitches that are always talking shit about everyone else.

“Do people use the bunk room to bone?”

His face flushes, and then he clears his throat.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you know everything about this place! I wish it was a singles only room because I swear I saw Nurse Halleran and Dr. Gilles coming out of there, and only one of the beds looked used.”

Harry makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

“I feel bad for whoever he’s married to.” He shakes his head. “Scumbag.”

“Nurse Halleran’s married too! I could never do that. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, and maybe I’ve thought someone else is attractive, I can appreciate a pretty face, but I would never cheat on my significant other. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Same here. That’s, like, the ultimate betrayal. How do you even come back from that? I get that our jobs can make for lonely lives, but make the time count at home when you can.”

“Does he have kids?”

“No, I think that’s why he doesn’t feel bad about it. She has two kids, though, I don’t know, I only talk to her about work things if I can help it. I miss some of my girls from the day shifts, like, Shauna is super nice and has this really warm smile.”

“Feel like she’s the hospital granny.” Y/N smiles. “I like her a lot too, the few interactions I’ve had with her.”

“How long do you think they’ll keep you on the night shift for?”

“I have no idea, think I’m just paying my dues as the new doctor. I’m getting more used to it, it’s not too bad. If it goes through summer I can drag my bum to the beach and sleep there.” She laughs and so does he.

“Might have to join you for that, I love getting a good tan.”

“It’s a date.” She says, more so as a joke, but from the way he looks at her he may have taken it a different way, so she clears her throat and laughs it off. “Anyways, I better get back to it. Nothing worse than being in the middle of eating and the beeper going off.” She stands up. “Have a good one, Harry.”

“You too.” He watches her walk away, and he sighs.

On Halloween, Y/N goes in a few hours early because she was told they let the kids go around the halls to the different nurse’s stations to trick or treat, and she really didn’t want to miss out on it. She puts on her witches earrings, and some spooky pins for her coat, and out she goes. She stops off at the store to buy some extra candy, and puts it in a pumpkin shaped bucket. She smiles when she sees Harry behind the desk already in his Halloween scrubs.

“Excellent effort.” He says, and then taps his finger over his mouth in thought. “Could use a little something extra, though.”

“Yeah? Like what?” She sets the candy down on the desk and he walks around it.

“Follow me.” Y/N follows Harry into the breakroom, and he pulls a bag out of his locker. He has her go into the unisex bathroom wither, and she sits up on the counter for him. “I’m working a double today, I did some face painting earlier for some of the younger kids. Sort of a way to give them a costume for when they walk around.”

“Harry, why don’t you just solely work in pediatrics?”

“Because I did some face painting for the elderly too, now hush. I need to concentrate.”

He takes what looks like a black sharpie out of the bag, but Y/N recognizes it as liquid eye-liner.

“What exactly are you going to do with that? Give me cat eyes?” She chuckles.

“No, you dolt, we’d need hours for that. I’m just gonna draw a little spider web on your cheek, alright?”

“Okay.”

Harry had never been this close to her face before. She got a nice whiff of his cologne, and she liked being able to see the few freckles he had. She notices now he’s painted his nails black and orange, he must really like Halloween. She closes her eyes as he starts drawing on her right cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. A slight gasp leaves her lips when his other hand grips her chin to tilt her head.

“Still just me, don’t worry.” He chuckles. “Don’t get jumpy on me.”

“M’not, sorry.” She sucks her lips into her mouth as his hand moves to the side of her neck. Y/N may or may not be a little touch starved.

“Almost done.” He says just as she was opening her eyes back up.

“Harry, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

“Shut up.” He scoffs, and finishes up. “All done, tell me what you think.”

“I mean it!” She says as he backs away enough for her to hop off the counter and turn around in the mirror. “Oh, excellent job. I especially like that you drew a little spider dangling from the web.”

“It’s my signature detail. Now you look perfect.” They look at each other through the mirror. “We should probably get out of here before someone thinks we’re boning.”

She bursts out laughing at that.

“Good one.” She says and shakes her head.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He mutters as he puts the bag back in his locker.

“N-no, it wasn’t.” She clears her throat. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” He nudges her shoulder and they walk back out to the main area.

The trick or treating was a lot of fun, and the kids seemed to have their spirits lifted. Then shit got real when the drunk people started coming in, the people the police had to bring in for psych evaluations, and the people that had too many edibles. It was crazy busy, Y/N had been running around all night. She was given the okay to go lay down for about thirty minutes since she had come in early. She stops short when she sees Harry laying in one of the bunks. He was laying on his side with his arms crossed over his chest. She quietly slips into one of the other bunks, and takes a deep breath.

“You’re awfully loud.” He says.

“Christ! I was quieter than a mouse!” She says, and turns to face him. He opens his eyes and grins at her. “Ah, you were just fucking with me.”

“Obviously.”

“Busy out there tonight. I mean, I expected it, but still.”

“I know.” He yawns and stretches out. “I’ve been in here too long, I need to go back out before I get groggy.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slowly gets up. “Have a nice snooze.”

“Thanks.” She chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Do you have any makeup wipes? I’d hate to wake up with a smudged web.”

“Oh, sure, one second.” He leaves momentarily and comes back in with a wipe for her cheek. Instead of handing it to her, he sits on the edge of her bunk, cups one of her cheeks in his hand, and uses the other to carefully wipe off the drawing. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs. “There.” Her eyes open back up and she smiles softly at him.

“Thank you.”

There was something brewing between them, they could both feel it. He’s about to lean in to kiss her, but he hears the click of the door open, and stands up immediately. It was another doctor who was I desperate need of a snooze. Harry leaves, and Y/N tries to relax enough to fall asleep.

They don’t see each other again until the morning when they’re both getting ready to leave. He chews on his inner cheek, trying to work up a little bit of courage.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure you’re probably tired, but…I have these, uh, pancake stencils where you can make pancakes look like pumpkins or ghosts…I thought maybe we could celebrate surviving Halloween together, but I’ll understand if you’re ready to just crash or-“

“I’d love to have breakfast with you.” She smiles as she closes her locker. “I’m gonna go home and shower. Text me your address, yeah?”

“Alright.” He smiles and watches her walk out.

Y/N takes a very quick shower so she can freshen up. She wasn’t sure what might go down between them. She felt like she was getting to be a little too old to just be hooking up with someone, but Harry was really great, so she decides to just go with the flow. She heads to his flat after he sent her his address, making sure to buy some orange juice as something to bring over.

He lets her in and she can’t get over how cozy he looks in his sweatpants, graphic tee, and cardigan. She was in a pair of leggings and a sweater.

“It smells so good in here.” She says.

“Thanks, I made some tea too if you want something warm.”

She nods and he pours her a cup. They giggle over the pancakes, and Harry confirms that Halloween is definitely one of his favorite holidays. The two decide it might be fun to watch a Halloween movie, but naturally after a long sift, they fall asleep together on his sofa. She was nestled into his chest with his arms wrapped around her. She would have slept longer, but she woke up to the sound of him snoring. She shuffles a little, but accidentally knees him in the groin, waking up immediately.

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I was laying on you like this.”

“It’s fine.” He says as he reaches for himself. “I’m good.” He knuckles at one of his eyes, keeping his other arm around her. He looks at the TV screen and sees that something else had come on. “Slept through the movie…”

“Guess we got a little too comfy.” She looks up at him. “Forgot how nice it was to cuddle with someone.” She mumbles tiredly.

“We could…go to my bed if you want, have a proper cuddle.”

“Would you spoon me if we do that?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

She nods yes, so he manages to pick her up, and carry her to his bedroom. She almost didn’t want to let go him when he sets her down, but all is good once he slides in next to her, pulls the blankets over them, and he wraps himself around her. She sighs as his pelvis aligns with her bum, and his arm wraps around her waist.

“Good?” He asks.

“Mhm.” She wiggles against him to get even more comfortable.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not.”

“Because I’ll get excited, and that’ll make things awkward.”

“Define excited.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Y/N.” He sighs.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I’ll get hard, and it’s already difficult enough to control that around you, so-“

“You can press it against me if you want, I don’t mind.” She looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re serious?”

“If I wasn’t I certainly wouldn’t have let you carry me to your bed.” She rolls onto her other side to face him. “I like being your friend and all, but I’ve done this with someone who’s just a friend before. I…I feel like we almost kissed earlier…”

“We did. Can we try again now?”

“Please.”

His hand slides to the back of her neck and he pulls her closer to him. His lips still tasted like the syrup they put on their pancakes, and she likes it more than she really should. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and he opens up for her. Their tongues swirl around each other, and she tugs him on top of her as she turns onto her back. One of his legs goes between hers, and she grunts when she feels his thigh right on her. She wraps her arms around his neck as their tongues still mold together.

She slips her other leg around his waist so he could lay full between her. He groans into her mouth as he grinds himself against her. A soft moan leaves her lips when she feels how hard he is. She could feel herself throbbing for him. He sits up a little, just to get his cardigan off, and her hands slide up his stomach under his shirt. He shudders from her touch, and he just takes his shirt off too. Her eyes widen as she can finally look over his tattoos.

“This is beautiful.” She says as her fingers trace over the butterfly on his torso.

“Thanks.” He smiles and gets back down to lay on her chest to chest as he kisses her.

He kisses from her lips, along her jaw, and to her neck, all while she’s grinding herself against him. One of his hands finds her hair and he yanks her head to the side so he can get better access to her neck. He licks over the spot just below her ear, and he sinks his teeth in. He sucks on her soft skin, and her mouth falls open. She normally wasn’t super into biting, but whatever he was doing felt really good. When he pops off her she puts her hand over the new bruise.

“That’s definitely gonna leave a mark.” She says to him.

“Kind of the whole point.” He smirks. “Maybe Dr. Gilles will leave you alone if he thinks you’re already getting it from someone else.”

“Not very professional though, is it?”

“That nice white coat of yours will cover it. Wear your hair down for a few days, no one will notice. Or maybe they will, oh well. I’ve never much cared what other people think.”

“That’s because you’re not the one walking around with a mark on your neck.” She pouts at him.

“I could be if you wanted to give me one.”

She bites her bottom lip to contemplate just about every little thing that’s going on between them. She had her legs around him, she was in his bed, and he was shirtless sucking marks into her neck.

“Are…are you going to fuck me?” She asks.

“Do you want me to?”

“Kinda.” She giggles. “You’re, um, really sexy, Harry.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you to say, but ‘kinda’ isn’t exactly a yes, Y/N.”

“Could we maybe just…touch each other? Below the belt?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

He rolls them both over so they’re on their sides facing each other again, and he pulls her leg up over his hip. She reaches for him first, skimming her fingers along the band of his sweatpants before dipping her fingers him. His breath hitches as she palms him over his boxers.

“You’re okay with this?” She asks him.

“Very.” He grunts. “Go for it.”

She nods and slips her hand inside his boxers, wrapping her hand around his warm cock. She bites her bottom lip as she runs her thumb over his tip, which was already leaking precome, and she slides it down his length.

His hand grips her ass before sliding it around to her front, and pulling her leggings back so he can get his hand in. A moan leaves his lips when he feels her wetness through her thong. He pets over at first, teasing her a little, but she squeezes him a little too tight, and that was signal enough to get the show on the road. He tugs her thong to the side, and runs his fingers along her slit before dipping his middle finger inside her. She squeezes around the intrusion, and then she relaxes a bit for him.

Harry slides another finger inside her, and works them in and out as his thumb takes care of her clit. He leans in to kiss her as they work each other over. She sucks on his bottom lip as she pumps his slick cock in her hand. He finds himself bucking into her grasp, but neither seem to care since she was grinding against his fingers. He curls them up inside her, and that’s when she starts breathing heavily.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth falls open and she starts pumping him faster. “Fuck, oh my god, H-Harry, it feels so good, don’t stop.” She was nearly gagging for it, and it shocked him to see her falling apart like this just from him fingering her.

“Y/N.” He moans and presses his forehead to hers. “I’m gonna come.”

“M-me too, shit.”

She feels her hand become warm and sticky as she comes around his fingers. She tightens around him to make it last as long as possible, and then she catches breath. She doesn’t want to make a mess of his sweat pants, so she takes her hand out slowly, keeping as much of his come in her palm as she can. They make eye contact, and she licks her palm clean. He does the same by sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“You’re, like, a little kinky.” She chuckles and so does he.

“You literally just did the same as me!”

“I was trying not to make a mess of your sheets!”

“I can wash ‘em.” He laughs more, and then tucks some hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you like me a little more than I thought.”

“A lot more, actually. You like me too?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I like you, Harry.”

“Thank god, I didn’t want this to be awkward at work.”

“Just don’t try to get busy with me in the bunk room. I will not contribute to that.”

“Listen, when you’re tired and desperate, it’s not such a bad place to get frisky.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She rolls her eyes. “Could I use your bathroom quick? And then if you don’t mind, I would actually love to sleep a bit more.”

“Of course! And yeah, that sounds good.”

She uses his bathroom, and he cleans himself up. He offers some pajama pants a tee shirt, and she happily accepts. She changes and crawls back into bed with him. He spoons her, and rubs at her side, giving her a kiss once in a while on the back of her neck. As she falls asleep in his arms she thinks she had never been so thankful to work on a holiday in her life.

#harry styles #night shift #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #nurse!harry #doctor!y/n

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eloquent-vowel · 4 years ago

Text

Part 4 "Type of" Bucky x OFC (#043)

Description: After two years of upgrades, #043 is finally woken up permanently. Just in time for her fight with the Winter Soldier.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the first meeting between #043 and the Winter Soldier. <3

Part 3

The lights were bright. Too bright, the ceiling was blindingly white and it burned. The light burned. Her eyes were dry, so dry, blinking hurt but having her eyes open hurt.

Everything was loud, not everything, some things were quiet, the things that were loud were meant to be quiet. The buzzing of the air conditioner, the static sound of electricity, footsteps that sounded close but felt far away. It was overwhelming but she couldn't speak, there was something in her mouth.

A high pitched whine filled her ears, they began to ring, louder and louder, until it drowned out the buzzing.

"#043, you have finally woken up."

The ringing in her ears ceased and she could now hear the chatter in the room. A face blocked the light from her eyes, a familiar one.

"It is likely you don't remember but you have been up before." Dr. Leeb began to fiddle with some restraints on her wrists. "We had to wake you up to test if the enhancements worked. It may have taken two years but I believe we have made the latest breakthrough in mechanical enhancements."

#043 was finally able to sit up, disorientated and confused. She had never seen the room she was in yet it felt familiar. White walls and medical equipment surrounded her, there were a couple of men in white coats chatting by the door.

"You are a stunning success #043, almost enough to atone for your previous mistakes." Dr. Leeb undid the restraints on her ankles, as #043 sat up to face him. "Now I want you to do something for me. Listen to the men over there." He pointed to the men in lab coats. "You can't hear them now but perhaps if you just focused, you may be able to."

#043 didn't quite know what focusing your hearing felt like but she did was Dr. Leeb said and focused. Her ear began to burn slightly as she focused in but eventually she could hear the two men talking as clear as day.

"... chip in the Occipital and Frontal lobes, replacement of the Stapes, enhanced prosthetics and enhanced senses, what type of monster is..."

#043 tuned out, before nodding at Dr. Leeb.

"What were they talking about, dear?"

"Me." She paused before staring right at the Doctor. "What did you do to me?"

"We have simply made you better now! Enhanced sight and hearing. I upgraded you prosthetics to fit your fully grown form and added some extra bonuses in them! #043, click your heels together."

#043 slowly stood up from the bed, Dr. Leeb seemed much smaller than she remembered. Her knees almost gave out when she put her full weight on them but she caught herself on the IV pole beside her.

"We haven't got all day!"

Struggling, #043 balanced herself the clicked her heels together. There was a slight hissing noise and two small blades perturbed from her feet, from the heel on her left leg and the toe of the right. She clicked her heels again and they retracted.

"Brilliant aren't they. Come on now, its time for you to get used to these new legs and then it is time for you to fully atone."

Although he wasn't mentioned by name #043 knew that her atonement was in the hands of The Winter Soldier.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Soldier stood on the edge of the fighting ring. It was a large concrete circle with walls built up around it, high enough to prevent escape but low enough to allow scientists to stare at him from above. He knew little of why he was here, other than to fight yet another contender. He was tired, tired of the endless fighting, he always won in the end and those who would lose to him would be taken away for more enhancements or to be disposed of.

For this fight, however, there was a palpable tension in the air as the men above him whispered to each other. He was unarmed, except for a small knife which he was currently flipping between his hands. He was unsure how long it had been, how long he had been waiting for but just has the knife in his hands flipped at the fastest it could the doors on the other side of the chamber opened.

The doors parted to reveal a tall figure, probably as tall as him. She was dressed in a similar fashion to him, black vest and her hair pushed out of her face. The Soldier analysed his opponent. She rivalled him in stature, and her eyes were just as sharp as his as he saw her sizing him up as well.

His eyes flicked down to her legs, he felt his arm whirr slightly as he recognised the same mechanics used in both her legs. They were made of interlocking metal parts that glinted in the florescent lights, with every step she took there was a slight whirring as the metallic joints folded over each other.. Her right leg still had her own knee and was made of metal from there down in contrast her left has an artificial knee joint that clacked slightly when she straightened it, the metal plates going far enough up to just brush her hip.

He walked towards her until they met in the middle. He was right, she was the same height as him and almost as broad. Once she was closer to him, he saw that her shoulder's were littered with scars. They were uniform and regular in their placement, perhaps they were a weak spot of hers? He followed her arms down to see the knuckle dusters clasped in her fists. He looked down at his small knife, this was to be a game of wits as well as strength.

All in all he saw her as a threat, he knew he would have to avoid her legs. Now that she was close enough he looked right into her eyes. They were empty. While her eyes moved over him in a clearly assessing way there was nothing behind them. She was devoid of emotion, his heart beat loudly in his ears as he felt pity. Pity and sympathy. A voice came over the intercom

"#043 meet the Winter Soldier, Soldier meet #043."

They nodded at one another.

"#043, you are to defeat the Winter Soldier. This is the only way you may become Eris. Make me proud, my dear, destroy him."

The Soldier looked as the empty eyes of #043 turned from emotionless to anger, she gave no warning before she attacked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't personal, the Soldier was just a target. #043 thought as she launched forwards. Despite not remembering the past two years her movements were the same as always. Chaotic and destructive. She felt her arms moving before her brain and watched as the Soldier jumped to block her.

The two super soldiers battered at each other. #043 felt her arm getting bruised each time she countered the metallic arm. She stared into the eyes of the soldier and he stared back each trying to predict the others moves. They danced around each other. Exchanging pummel after pummel, the brass knuckles caught the Soldier's temple, tearing it. In retort the knife caught #043's cheek. Blood flowed down her cheekbone and she paused.

The Soldier paused too.

They stood for a moment, fists still raised, eyes still locked. There was a hint of recognition that passed between them. A familiarity of shared experience, a moment of finding someone who could finally understand.

"Do I need to remind you what will happen if you lose this #043."

It was enough for #043 to be spurred into action once more. The Soldier was immediately back on the defensive as she attacked him continuously. He couldn't predict a pattern in her blows. She seemed to move with no thought, no direction other than to harm. Her legs kicked out with shattering force and he soon learned it was better to dodge than block. She was unrelenting, while his body was not as tired as hers his mind was beginning to lag. He had to focus, he had no time to switch to the offensive. He had to wait, to wait for her to get tired, for her to slip up.

She punched, he parried. She kicked to his chest, he sidestepped, His eyes narrowed. She was going to kick, with her left, no RIGHT. A deafening clang rang out as he blocked her leg with his arm. Her foot was an inch away from his head. They were both breathing heavily, neither of them having fought someone as similar to the other. Once more their eyes met, the Soldier hesitated- under all the anger and hatred in her eyes was a desperation- fear. She was scared. Not of him. Of consequence, of losing.

She began to push against his arm. The scrape of metal against metal sent shiver's down #043's spine. But she kept pushing, she couldn't lose, she refused to. She grunted out at the effort it took to break the Soldier's guard. She gritted her teeth, she felt his arm give way, she relaxed and was swiftly thrown off balance by the Soldier throwing her leg away. He took the opportunity to run at her.

She was now on the defensive. Using her arms to block in coming knife swipes. Using her legs to parry his own kicks. She tried to get a jab in. Only to have the knife slash across her knuckles, causing her to drop on of her brass knuckles. They clanged against the floor, forgotten as she had to double her efforts to concentrate. She ignored the shooting pain over her hand and continued to block punch after punch.

#043 was tiring. She knew this. He knew it. She felt him doubling his efforts to trap her. Sweat was dripping down her brow. Her usual ability to predict her opponents movements was gone, her brain too focused on surviving. The Soldier drew closer. She blocked a final jab with the knife but he grabbed her. He grabbed her wrists and twisted. She dropped the other brass knuckle. He pulled her close, twisted so that her back was to his chest, and placed his metal arm around her throat. He squeezed.

"Yield." His voice was quiet in her ear, low enough so that Dr. Leeb would not hear.

She struggled, clawing at his arm. She thought of Dr. Leeb, of the chair, of consequences. Black spots began to dance around her vision. She would not go out like this. She focused on her left leg. The chip in her brain that lead directly to her left leg. She really did not want to be disposed of.

Dr. Leeb watched with barely veiled excitement as #043 let out a guttural scream. He watched as her left leg began to twist, it rotated against her skin until it was facing backwards, the foot facing the Winter Soldier. The leg reared back, unnoticed and kicked. Dr. Leeb laughed as that single kick dislocated the soldier's knee. The Soldier loosened his grip and she escaped. They faced each other once again.

The ache in her leg was almost impossible to ignore as it twisted back to the right place. Much to her annoyance the soldier was still standing. They were both breathless, bloody and bruised.

The Soldier grimaced before snapping his knee back into place, he had given enough for it to be considered a fair fight. It was time to end this fight.

They both moved at once. Their dance resumed. This time they were both switching from attacking and defending every other hit. #043 began to launch a series of kicks. The Soldier kept deflecting them. She knew she was becoming predictable but every inch of her hurt. Her knuckles were bleeding. Spraying red droplets everywhere as she continued to punch. In desperation she began to launch a final switch kick. It felt obvious, she saw the soldier's eyes flick to her feet. He knew what she was going to do. It was too late to change. She launched her right leg towards the Solder's temple. He raised his arm.

There was a thud as the Soldier hit the floor. Unconscious.

#043 blinked. He had seen it coming. He had raised to block it. Had he been tired? Was he too slow? Her win felt wrong. She stood frozen over his form. She had won. She was Free. She was Eris. So why wasn't she happy?

"What type of monster have you created Dr. Leeb?"

Dr. Leeb turned to face the General, a joyous smile on his face.

"I have created an unstoppable tide of chaos, General. I have created Eris."

Part 5

#marvel #hydra #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x original female character #bucky x oc #bucky fic #angst #avengers #eventual fluff #winter soldier #winter soldier x oc #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #hydra are assholes #eloquent-vowel #043 #slow burn

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

Text

lacuna- part 7

din/reader

cooking is my love language so i made it rebel’s too (as ever, thank you to my love my life @brothersdrxke for being my shara) 💛 there’s rly only two more parts after this huh

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: i don’t think there’s any swears in this one but just to be on the safe side, rebel has PTSD although it’s more suggested than actually experienced there’s a couple of moments that are shaky, softness and domesticity or just sadness?, sadness, the usual type of smut, 18+ no babies thanks

“No.”

At least Colonel Cintass has the decency to look surprised, he blanches when you show no sign of joking and sits up a little straighter.

“If it’s a question of pay or location, both are negotiable. There’s academies all over the Inner and Mid rim, you’ll have your pick of the lot and a promotion if you accept.” He’s clutching at all the straws he has at his disposal, but you don’t budge. He huffs when you say nothing and asks, albeit agitatedly, what your plans are instead.

“Maybe I’ll go private. Pays well, I can do what I want-”

“There’s no glory in the private sector.” Cintass interrupts you, and your eyebrows furrow further.

“And there is here? If you joined up for glory, Colonel, I don’t think you should be calling the shots.” You’re right and you both know it. You’re all too familiar with the friends who’ve retired to find something quieter, and with the officers who spent their Rebellion days discussing facts and figures with politicians. People who’d never been on the front lines in the thick of it, never even seen a firefight, now in charge of fresh faced cadets and veterans with too many demons to feel like they belong anywhere else. You won’t stay here, not for any longer than it takes to pack your things.

You pulled out of Green Squadron the day after Shara told you she was retiring, the last of the original crew, you hadn’t wanted to fly any more missions without her. At least the Colonel heard you out and didn’t argue. He’d let you stay on as a temporary mechanic, while you figured out what it was you wanted to do. Although, now it’s clear he fought to keep you so he could get things in place to offer you a teaching job.

It’s a good position, in all honesty. Miles better pay than you’ll get for the same job anywhere else, the choice to relocate to any of the shiny New Republic Navy training centres across the galaxy. But you can’t look a bunch of teenagers in the eye and tell them that this is everything they hope for. Not when the war chewed you up and spit you out the way it did. The scars on your back ache at the thought of it.

Shara finds you in the hangar, loading up a couple of bags into your A-Wing’s pitiful storage compartment. All your belongings, your whole life, packed up and ready to go wherever you decide to take them.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to live in there.”

“Ah, I’ll get a couple of hanging plants, maybe put up some curtains,” You smile at her from the top of the ladder, “Could be cosy.”

You know why she’s here. Not to talk you into accepting the teaching job, she knows you better than that. The idea was one she’d had right after she and Kes had found the old farm on Yavin IV, in need of a little tlc and a lot of patience, it was the perfect spot for them to raise their boy. And the little house further down the track, right at the edge of their land, was the perfect spot for you.

“I’m not saying you have to stay there forever,” She starts when you open your mouth to decline again, “I’m saying that when you need some solid ground under your feet, you don’t have to go looking for it.”

“Shara-”

“We’re family. You will always have a home with us.” It’s final. Non-negotiable. And something about the look in her eye makes you want to cry just a little bit. You think about the collection of scribbles tucked carefully away in one of your bags, the more recent ones at least are a little easier to distinguish as people. Four multi-coloured potatoes with legs. As far as little Poe is concerned, he agrees with his mother.

You hop down the ladder and pull Shara tightly to you, maybe tighter than you have before. Because you’ve never really had a home, not a place you ever felt was worthy of such a title. But here she is, offering one to you like it’s nothing.

“So, where are you off to now?” She asks when you finally have the strength to let her go. Both of your eyes are a little watery, but neither of you mentions it.

“Well, I turned down Cintass so it's up in the air. I’ve got some old contacts, so as long as they’ve forgiven me I can get a little income before I have to make any concrete decisions.” You don’t tell her exactly who the contacts are. Something about the way she raises her eyebrow makes you wonder if she’s already guessed where you’re going.

It feels strange, guiding your A-Wing out of the hangar for the last time. You hope it's the last time. At least you had enough put by to get Green Four decommissioned and released to you, it might have been a little more difficult than you’d initially thought if you had to leave the ship behind. She’s old and you’ve put her through hell, but she’s yet to let you down.

You’re not overly surprised that your comm signal goes unanswered. You weren’t exactly the most gracious guest on your last visit. But you don’t get shot up on your approach, so maybe your old friends are feeling a little more amicable nowadays.

“Impressive.” Ran says when you hop out of the cockpit, helmet under one arm and a sheepish smile on your face.

“She used to be.” You know he’s already calculating how much he can get for it, or whether he wants to strip it for parts. Your heart aches at the thought of it but there’s not a lot you can do. If letting go of your starfighter is what gets you back on the team, then it’s what’ll have to happen. Even if it hurts.

Ran gestures at a couple of new crewmates, a Devaronian and a human, and you selfishly hope you won’t have to work too closely with them. There’s an insignia on the shoulder of the human’s jacket, one you don’t want to examine too closely for fear you’re right. He’s about to offer you your old room when the shooting starts.

The men are taking turns at a set of old side panels, blaster bolts melting the old steel on contact, and you know that. You flinch before you can stop yourself. Ran watches you suspiciously, but he says nothing. Before the war, you would never have even batted an eyelid at a little target practice. You probably would have been in the thick of it, laughing and betting and not watching your friends die over and over in your mind.

“You stink of soldier.” Xi’an sneers, although she means it more as an observation than an accusation. You don’t disagree, only shrug, and your hand hovers warily over your holster as you watch the shooting competition. Just in case.

“Where’s Qin?” You ask once your heartbeat returns to normal. Anger flashes across Xi’an’s face as Ran explains he’d outsourced a job a few years ago, and Qin hadn’t made it back. It’s unexpected, the odd way you find yourself a little disappointed. Even though he’d been cold with you on your last visit, even though you’d bickered and been at each other’s throats more than once. Qin had been a friend once, a lifetime ago. You suppose that’s exactly the problem.

“Are you still terrible at throwing?” Xi’an asks, and the awkward tension finally melts away. Her wicked smile returns and you find yourself mirroring it.

“I’m a little better.” You say. Although you’re still certain she’ll wipe the floor with you, it’s nice to see at least somebody around here missed you. It’s about as close to a confession as you’ll ever get from Xi’an. You’d be an idiot not to take the olive branch she’s so selflessly holding out in front of you. Maybe you won’t be so alone on the station after all.

Din’s wondering about you, some part of him always is, as he looks at the new pucks in his hands. A couple of humans, a mythrol, and a chiss. None of them should cause him too much trouble, but none of their last known locations are exactly close. He settles on one of the humans, last seen in the Yavin system, and tells himself it’s because he can stock up on supplies for some of the more long haul flights the new assignments will take him on. Definitely not because he could stand to be around people who might remind you of him, even just a little. Definitely not because he misses you.

Din watches you from across the market, chatting animatedly with a dark haired woman he’s half-certain he’s met before. The way she leans so casually, so naturally, against your shoulder as she laughs makes his ribcage ache. He wants that with you, always has. He wants to be able to take you to places like these. To hold you close in front of throngs of people and meet your old friends. He shouldn’t even be here.

The Armourer’s words still echo in his ears. He is responsible for the covert, their hardest working hunter. He cannot, should not, waste thought on times past.

He shouldn’t be here.

But it’s too late.

Your eyes zero in on him, abandoning the conversation, and your friend follows your gaze. Din takes that as an invitation, slowly making his way towards the two of you in the shadow of a baker’s stall. The crowds part, as they always do, and for the first time he finds himself wishing they wouldn’t. You might have a life here, for all he knows. It’s been long enough. You deserve one, really. To have a home. To feel loved all the time, to not have to wonder. And then he’s there, in front of you, just staring. What are either of you even supposed to say?

A small boy peers around your hip, looking up at him in wonder. Too old to be yours, if he remembers correctly, but for a moment his heart seizes. You rest your hand in the kid’s curls, absentmindedly ruffling them. You’ve always fiddled when you’re nervous.

“We should probably get home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” The woman clears her throat, snapping the sudden tension into shards. Din’s careful not to cut himself on the edges.

You nod enthusiastically, every language you know still lodged uncomfortably in your throat, and wrap an arm around her shoulders for a brief goodbye hug. She calls the boy after her as she leaves, their matching black curls bouncing when she heaves him up onto her shoulders.

“Shara,” You say, watching the two disappear into the waning crowd, “She teaches some of the older kids piloting basics. I help out when I’m here, mechanics mostly.”

“You find somewhere to settle?”

You shake your head. Give him some vague answer about drifting where the wind takes you. He doesn’t need to know you went crawling back to the only thing you knew before the war. It’s quiet for a moment, and even though you’re standing in the middle of the market, it’s as though you’re the only two people on the whole street. Din’s floundering for something to say, something to keep you here for just another minute, until you break the silence and save him. Just like you always do.

“When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t a ration pack?”

Even with the way he treated you last time, you’re still showing him the kindness you always have. He’s still not sure he deserves it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on.” You take his silence as an answer, and start towards an alleyway between two buildings. Din follows you without hesitation, and the path opens up to a small parking lot half-full of different speeder models. You lead him to an older one, yellow paint faded and scratched, and drop your bag in the backseat. He falters a little when you climb in and gesture to the seat beside you.

“Unless you wanted to sit in the back.” Your smirk is warm, familiar. It hurts to look at. So he hops in and settles on the front bench because he’s not sure he can bear to watch you look at him like that much longer.

The little home down the dusty farm track is not somewhere he ever expected you to call your own. You’ve always seemed like you should be on a background of stars, a hyperspace lane, not somewhere this domestic. At least that way he wouldn’t be consumed, so suddenly, with a very real idea of staying.

You just look so comfortable, bathed in the low light of the afternoon sun through the windows, pulling vegetables out of a fridge covered head to toe in kid’s drawings. The little boy from the market, presumably. And it makes his ribcage ache to know that this too, is something that’ll always be missing from his every day. He won’t get to sit at your kitchen table and watch you fuss over a pot of stew, or have you slide up behind him and kiss his shoulder as he follows your favourite recipe.

It’s the best stew he’s ever had. Easily. The sun has disappeared behind Yavin, bathing the whole moon in an odd red glow as he eats. The helmet seems to glare at him from the middle of your kitchen table. You’d ducked into the bedroom to eat before he could even suggest that you take the kitchen. Another sacrifice you’ve made for him. What does that make the number now?

His gloves stay on the table while he washes the dishes, at his insistence. Although you’d put up a little bit of a fight. Din doesn’t bother to pick them up when he passes the table, when he appears in your bedroom doorway and you look up from your datapad like it’s the most natural thing in the galaxy.

You’ve pulled the curtains, shut the world out, and the room is plunged into darkness when you flick the lightswitch by the head of your bed.

You’re expecting the warmth of his skin on yours when he finally finds his way to you in unfamiliar space. He always sheds his armour so silently. You don’t expect him to take your hands in his, and raise them to the sides of his helmet.

The breath catches in your throat, you know he can hear it. His fingers tremble slightly over yours but he doesn’t waver. He settles them both solidly on either side of his helmet, and guides you for a moment. Your hands follow the rest of the way when he drops his to your waist, you set it carefully on the bedside table and turn back to him. He’s not stupid. He knows you can’t actually see him. But it feels like every barrier between you is finally, melted away. And Din can lay you back on the bed as himself.

It’s strange to have him in a space that’s become yours. Knowing that in the dark his helmet is sitting on a bedside table next to a picture frame of you and Green Squadron. That he probably saw every drawing Poe’s ever scribbled for you stuck to your fridge. But you force yourself to forget that. You shove it right down until there’s no room in your head for anything but the way he’s clinging to you. Until he is all you know.

“Tell me you don’t love me.” You’re almost asleep when the traitorous words slip out.

Oh, you think you’re clever. You think you’re leaving him no choice but to confess. You think this is where things finally, finally, start to go your way. They don’t.

“I don’t love you.”

No differently than if he was recounting the weather forecast. And it hurts. But you don’t have it in you to run, to cry, to be angry with him at all. Instead, you fall back down to press your cheek against the warmth of his bare chest, defeated. He holds you there until you’re sleeping.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

#early drop lets go #why am i so nervous about this #lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #fic #liz does words #smut

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page-doctor-bekker · 4 years ago

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Exposé - msbp!au

(A/N) So this is like, an exposition I guess. It’s necessary for the rest of the story. Ginormous trigger warning for allusions to child abuse, gaslighting + manipulation.

Sarah's vision blurred, as she faded in and out of consciousness. The pain is intense, and she feels like she might die. This isn't survivable. The worst of the pain hits her all at once, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream into her gag. After that pain, nothing.

"Oh Sarie, I have some bad news," His voice cut through the pain, like a scalpel in her lower back, "You're going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life..."

"Good morning Sarie," Sarah's dad sung, turning on the overhead lights as he walked into her room. He was holding a medium-sized pink bin, lined with a sterile sheet to create a sterile field, with a few syringes and medications, as well as sterile gloves, alcohol swabs, and a few other supplies. Sarah was scared awake, letting out a short groan. Her dad pulled a chair up, before pulling on a pair of gloves and disconnecting Sarah's PICC line from her overnight infusion.

He opened up a 10mL saline flush, screwed it onto the end of her line, and slowly pushed the plunger, drained the syringe into the line. Next, he pulled out another syringe, this time a 3mL syringe, half-full with clear liquid. He connected the syringe to the line, and administered the medication. She almost instantaneously felt calmer and sedated, as the Ativan coursed through her system. He proceeded to flush the line with more saline, then a syringe of Heparin. After that flush, he finished off the line by screwing on a swab cap. He tucked the line under the PICC cover, and pulled off and disposed of his gloves. Lastly, he helped Sarah sit up, and guided a small cup of pills into her shaky hand. He gave her a water cup with a straw, and helped her take her pills.

Sarah's dad moved her wheelchair closer to the bed and locked the wheels. He gently took the blankets off of her body, and threaded his left arm under her knees, and his right arm under her armpits around her body. He lifted her into her wheelchair, and buckled up her seatbelt. He hummed to her as he put her minimalist neck brace on to keep her head from flopping forward. The brace had a strap around the back of her neck, with two hard plastic pieces at the sides of her neck. The top of those plastic pieces split off onto a chin pad to hold her chin in place, and the bottoms of the plastic pieces split off into two rods that joined in a v-shape at her sternum.

Sarah’s dad turned off her overnight oxygen concentrator, and started peeling the cannula tape off of her prominent cheekbones. Sarah coughed a few times as the oxygen stopped.

“Today is tube change day,” Her dad announced, and Sarah was wheeled into the kitchen where she was sat at the table. Her dad started rummaging through the formula cabinet, "Do you want something to eat before we leave for the hospital?"

Sarah was quiet for a moment, trying to process those words through her Ativan-jumbled brain, "...Yes..." She finally decided, speaking slowly, "Can... I have... a..." She paused, thinking of what she wanted, "Cereal..."

"Yes," Sarah's dad confirmed, moving to fix her a bowl of cereal. A few quiet, zoned-out minutes later she was presented with a bowl of fruit loops. Her dad fitted the rings of her adaptive spoon onto her pointer finger and her thumb, and she started to spoon her cereal into her mouth. Her dad sat down to supervise as always, to make sure she didn't aspirate.

He multi-tasked, filling her feed bag with four cartons of formula and 8 ounces of Miralax mixed into water. He closed up the bag, and fitted the tubing into the Infinity pump. He flipped the bag upside down, and pushed the button to prime the tube. Once formula started dripping out of the end of the tube, he stopped.

Sarah's dad lifted her shirt, gently pulled the split gauze off from around her tube, and cleaned the area, "Today we have..." He grabbed the small fabric circle from the table, "Purple and pink stripes!" He fitted the tubie pad around her tube and clipped it together, and let her shirt fall.

Sarah finished her cereal, and watched as her dad tucked the bag of formula and the pump into one of Sarah’s various backpacks, and hung it on the back of her wheelchair. This particular backpack was a pale pink, with a panda on the front. On the lower right side of the backpack there was a plastic port where the tubing came out of. On the right side of Sarah’s wheelchair, between the back of the chair and the armrest was a velcro strap that held the tube out of the way of the wheel. He left her for a moment, grabbing an ice pack to tuck into the bag with the formula.

Sarah watched him, puzzled and confused, “Why aren’t you starting feeds?”

“Yes, we are going to the hospital today, you are due to have your tube replaced,” He started a sterile field, and started to draw up the day’s medications, five IV syringes and one G-tube syringe. He capped the syringes and tossed them into a plastic bag. He put her nighttime pills into a small pill container, and put it in the bag as well, “Just in case we aren’t home in time,” He put the bag into her backpack, “

Sarah started coughing a dry, rough cough. Her dad rubbed her back with one hand, and reaching over onto the table for her portable oxygen concentrator. He tucked the cannula into her nose and turned it on. She started to breathe easier, and her dad smiled.

Once she started to feel better, he spoke up, “I need to stop the machine so I can put this in your backpack and organize the tubing, okay?”

She nodded, and he turned the machine off and unplugged the tubing from the machine. Working quickly, he looped the excess tubing up and secured it with a tubie clip that he clipped to her shirt. He fed the tubing through the the velcro port in the back of her wheelchair, then through the port in her backpack. The oxygen concentrator went into the backpack, and he turned in back on once it was set up.

Once she was all set up, her dad looked at his watch, “I think it’s time to get this show on the road!”

Sarah nodded, and leaned against her headrest while her dad pushed her through the house, then out the door.

Sarah dozed all the way to the hospital, barely lucid enough to realize when she was being taken out of the car, and into the hospital.

“Let’s take a look at the ol’ g-tube then, ready?” Sarah was woken from her daze by the doctor, a brunette woman that Sarah had seen multiple times before, Dr. Manning.

Sarah nodded at the doctor, leaning back and lifting her shirt up to the underwire of her bra, exposing the tube.

“Mind if I give her her 11:00 meds?” Her dad inquired, looking at his watch. The doctor nodded and Sarah’s dad stole a pair of gloves from the wall and started fiddling with her PICC line. He pushed her morphine first, which immediately started to chill her out even more than the Ativan. The next medication was Benadryl, which was followed by saline and Heparin.

As the Benadryl kicked in, Sarah dozed off just in time for Dr. Manning to pull the tube out for the change.

An indiscernable amount of time later, Sarah woke up in a hospital bed, a different room from the procedure room she had been in before.

“Sarah?” Her dad whispered, looking up from his phone. Sarah made a noise in the back of her throat, feeling a thin tube down her throat, and rubbed her eyes, before looking at her dad.

“Dad?” She croaked, “Where... Why are we here? Why do I have a nose tube?”

“You have an infection,” He explained, scooting closer to her bed and grabbing her right hand, “In your tube. They want to keep you here because of your immunodeficiency, they want to be a little more aggressive this ti-”

There was a knock at the door, and a doctor and a nurse walked in. They both helped themselves to some hand sanitizer off of the wall, and greeted her dad. Sarah settled back down, staying quiet.

“Whenever ANYONE in the hospital comes to talk to us, you stay QUIET. Do you hear me? Sarah, look at me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? You are to remain absolutely silent. Do not tell them anything, you don’t understand what you’re talking about anyways. I’m the only one that can advocate for you. You’re only going to make things worse.”

“Do you have any idea how this infection might have started? Any other signs of illness, maybe another infection that spread? Have you travelled recently?”

“No, none of that.”

“And you’re always touching the tube with clean hands, cleaning it twice a day, using clean gauze, clean supplies, bathing often?”

“Yes, very clean. I’m very careful. She’s immunocompromised, and I would never do anything that could put her in danger.”

Sarah’s stomach churned. No, not clean.

“And you’re the only one who handles her tube? Is mom involved? Home healthcare nurses, babysitters?”

“Nope, it’s just me,” Sarah’s dad laughed, “Her mother took off, left me in the dust. No help I ever see! And I don’t let anyone else handle her tube.”

“Well, I think we’re going to go in for endoscopy to see what’s going on inside, see if the infection is in her stomach as well, maybe bacterial gastroenteritis, ulcers, buried bumper syndrome. We’ll see what we can find and take some more cultures.”

“Dirty tube...”

Sarah’s dad looked at her with a wrath hotter than a thousands suns, and then chuckled at the doctors, “Sorry, she just woke up. Sometimes she echoes what she hears from others, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“My tube is dirty,” She asserted groggily.

“Sweetheart, they just cleaned it an hour ago, it’s not dirty,” Sarah’s dad reassured, squeezing her hand. She sighed, and laid back.

The doctor left, and Sarah’s dad dropped her hand aggressively, “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, “They will take you away from me and hurt you. Is that what you want?”

Sarah shook her head.

“You will die without me. Do you understand? I do everything for you. I care for you, I do everything with no help. God forbid I make mistakes. God forbid I forget things sometimes.”

She looked away.

He grabbed the tube and pulled her to face him, which yanked the tape off of her cheek. She coughed as the tubing shifted in her throat.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” He scowled at her, before putting on a worried face, “Nurse!” He flagged down a nurse walking by their door, “She pulled the tape off. Poor thing, she doesn’t understand.”

(A/N) anyways sorry ava wasn’t in this one, i just needed to set the scene lol. hope you enjoyed!

#msbp!au #child abuse tw #abuse tw #reesker #well it will be at some point #sarah reese #robert haywood #chicago med #chicago med au #reesker au #crockettstiddies

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bananapie99 · 4 years ago

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Welcome Home

Part IV of my new Home series

Part I here

Part II here

Part III here

Inspired by Welcome Home from Bandstand the musical

Welcome home my dear, welcome home my sweet. Welcome home my hero, welcome home my heart.

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

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers (brother) x Reader

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

Now our wait has ended, our years of yearning, and I’m at my doorway, my love returning...

The day had finally come. The longest week of your life had passed, and Bucky was almost home. This morning you spent twice the time you normally do getting ready, wanting to look perfect for your reunion. It had been nearly two years since you had felt Bucky, smelled Bucky.

It came time to head to his family’s home. A few days prior you all decided to meet there, that way Bucky could see you all at once and not have to decide who to see first. Sitting, waiting, became an agonizing task. You twisted the ring around your ring finger, unable to sit still.

Any minute now.

A watched pot never boils, but that did not stop you from looking at the clock every 5 seconds. Your head started spinning with possibilities. What if there was an accident on the way back? Or maybe the war made him realize he wanted something different for his life. He could walk right past you, or ask for the ring back.

Stop it (y/n). You scolded yourself for even thinking that way. He would not have written all those letters if he was not in love with you.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

You jumped up, standing straight, still fiddling with your ring.

Bucky’s father took a few steps towards the door and opened it up.

“Hey dad.”

His voice. Oh that sweet voice had never sounded so beautiful. Your vision started to blur as you attempted to fight back the tears.

His dad opened the door wider, letting Bucky inside.

Immediately his eyes found yours and you could no longer fight back the tears. You let out a sob and opened your arms as he dropped his bag and ran across the living room to reach you. Suddenly your feet were off the ground, his arms locked around your waist as he spun you in a quick circle. He set you back down, but did not let go. One of his hands left your waist, finding its home under your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his. Oh those eyes. You could drown in the turbulent ocean of those orbs. You opened your mouth to speak, but before any words could come out his lips covered yours. The kiss was desperate and heavy, one that you would never share in public given any other circumstance. Your ears burned, knowing his family and your brother were watching, but at the same time, you did not care. Bucky was here. Bucky was home.

He released your mouth, pulling you flush against his chest. He rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Welcome home James,” you finally let out just above a whisper. Your hand reached up to touch his neck and was met by the cool metal chain of his dog tags. You wove your fingers around the chain, not wanting to let go of his identification, regardless of how morbid the concept of the tags were.

Rebecca came over and rested a hand on his shoulder. He hesitated a moment, not wanting to let go of you. You gave him a squeeze, then loosened your hold on him to signal it was okay. He needed to finish his hellos.

As he released you, he turned towards his sister, pulling her in to a similar hug and kissing her cheek. By now his mother was a mess in her tears, holding onto her husband.

Bucky released Rebecca and turned to his mother, opening his arms.

“I missed ya ma.”

She practically threw herself into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder. He held her close, gently swaying side to side, trying to soothe her cries.

It took her a while to calm back down, but who could blame her? Even with all the letters home, his time away was unbearable. None of you would say it out loud, but every day you all waited for that telegram to arrive, delivering the impossible news. But now here he was, home, safe.

Finally, he let go of his mom and hugged Steve. As you watched the two of them, something seemed off. What you were seeing before you did not look right. You had been so excited to see Bucky when he got home that you realized you had not really seen him.

His arm.

His left arm is not his arm.

You walked over to them and grabbed what should have been his left arm, and gasped when you were met with wood. You pushed the sleeve up on his jacket to reveal the rest of the wooden limb. You stumbled back a step before he reached out to catch you.

“Bucky... what happened?”

You felt the tears starting to come again.

“(Y/n), it’s okay, I’m okay,” he cooed, trying to calm you down. “Remember the situation I wrote you about? But it’s not a big deal Cookie, I’m okay I promise.”

Your heart splintered looking at the prosthetic. The situation he wrote about talked about removing a bullet, not removing an arm. The war had already taken enough, why his arm too?

He used his flesh hand to wipe at the tears painting your cheeks and kissed you again, gently this time.

Mentally you scolded yourself for the second time today. Who were you to cry? Bucky is the one who was shipped off to war and lost an arm, along with who knows what or who else. But Bucky did not seem to mind. He met your eyes with a soft smile before pulling you back into his chest. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity in silence, Steve and his family migrating towards the kitchen to you give you two some time. Neither of you wanted to break the moment, but Bucky finally spoke.

“So when is the wedding? When do you officially become Mrs. James Barnes?”

Hearing him say those words made you dizzy. Luckily Bucky had you so tight to his chest you did not have to worry about falling.

Finally you found your voice. “Just say the words, Sergeant.”

He let out a laugh that made his chest vibrate against you. You forgot how magical his laugh sounded.

“How about now?”

Wedding plans be damned, you were ready. All you needed was Bucky by your side.

“Tell your family and call the pastor, I need thirty minutes,” you said before stretching up to kiss his jawline. Quickly you walked into the kitchen, grabbed Rebecca, and drug her out of their house. You took off running towards your apartment, Rebecca sprinting to catch up.

“(Y/n), what are you doing?? Why are we running?”

You grinned. “The wedding. It’s happening today!”

Rebecca squealed and picked up her pace.

At your and Steve’s apartment, you and Rebecca frantically gathered what you needed. Your and Rebecca’s dresses were hanging nicely in your closet, shoes tucked underneath them. Since you had left so quickly you were unsure if Steve was coming back here or not, so you decided to grab his suit and shoes as well.

In the drawer to your vanity you saw the small velvet box and put that into your purse. Last week Steve gave it to you as a gift, your parents’ wedding rings inside. He told you he wanted you and Bucky to have them. You cried when he gave them to you, so touched by the gesture and sacrifice he was making for himself by giving the rings to you.

“They would want you to have them, (y/n). I want you to have them. Promise.”

At that moment, the door to your apartment opened and you heard Steve calling out for you.

“In here,” you called out from your bedroom.

You heard him enter and told him his suit was draped over the couch.

He reached out and took your arm in his hand.

(Y/n), stop moving for a second. Look at me.”

You stopped what you were doing and met his eyes.

“There’s no need to rush the wedding today, Bucky does not mind waiting. He wants you to have the day you dreamed of, not something you rushed to just because he is home. He’s home, and he is not going anywhere. Today is a lot to take in on its own...him being back, his arm...”

You winced at the mention of his arm. To be honest, you had forgotten about that already and hearing the words was a bit of a shock. But you were touched by the sentiment, knowing it was true and knowing Bucky sent Steve over here to tell you that.

“I know, Steve. But this is my dream wedding. I do not care about the flowers or the decorations really, today is not about the looks or the party. I just want to marry him. I just want him. I want to say those words and know that he is mine forever. I want the declaration and the ceremony. I want the vows. As long as I have you walking me down the aisle and Bucky waiting for me at the end, it will be my dream wedding.”

Steve was satisfied by your answer and kissed your forehead, before grabbing his suit off the couch and rushing to the church to meet Bucky.

What else did you need?

The letter.

The letter that promised you he was alright after radio silence. You wanted that letter in the church with you, along with his telegram.

I’m coming home.

Now he was home. In his arms you had your home back as well.

You put those into your purse next to the ring box.

Rebecca and you went over your mental list one more time just to make sure you had not missed something big, then took off for the church.

Inside, Rebecca and you found a room to store everything and get dressed. She helped you close up your dress and adjust your hairstyle, adding in your mother’s clip and her mother’s veil.

You gave Rebecca the ring box and the letters. Where you wanted the letters, you did not know. But they needed to be in the church.

Rebecca put on her dress and stepped out to check if Steve, Bucky and the pastor were ready.

A few minutes later she peeked her head back in the room.

“They are all ready (y/n). Are you?”

You took a shaky breath, already overwhelmed by your emotions. You felt tears start for the hundredth time that day, but fought to keep them back. Unable to speak without the tears falling, you just nodded yes. Rebecca held her hand out to you and you took it in your own, following her towards the altar.

Bucky’s parents were seated in the first row of pews. Rebecca kissed your cheek and told you “see you down there,” before rushing towards the end of the aisle where her brother stood. When your eyes saw Bucky standing down there you could no longer hold the tears in, a single sob escaping your throat.

Immediately Bucky looked up, eyes locking on you. He smiled as his own tears started to fall.

Steve linked his arm with yours and gently nudged your shoulder.

“You ready (y/n?)”

Absolutely.

The two of you started your walk down the aisle at a normal pace, but as you got closer you could not wait any longer and started to pick up speed. Bucky let out a laugh at your eagerness.

Finally at the end of the aisle, Steve kissed your cheek before placing your hand into Bucky’s.

For a moment you and Bucky just stood there, holding each other’s hands and looking into one another’s eyes. You both grinned.

The pastor cleared his throat and began talking.

If you were being honest, most of the ceremony was a blur. But then you heard it.

“Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take (y/f/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, ‘til death do you part?”

“I do.” He slid your mother’s old wedding band onto your finger. The perfect size.

More tears.

“Do you, (y/f/n), tale James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, ‘til death do you part?”

The words were caught in your throat and you nodded, trying to force them out. With a little sob you finally got out “I do.” You went to slide the ring onto his finger, but were met with wood.

He leaned in towards you to whisper, “I’ll wear it on my right hand, babydoll. I want to feel the ring.”

Even more tears.

You slid the ring on his right hand and were amazed at how perfectly it had fit him.

Meant to be.

The pastor spoke again. “You may now kiss the bride.”

He moved closer to you, wooden arm finding its place around your waist, as his flesh hand cupped your face. He whispered “forever and always,” before leaning down the rest of the way to give you a kiss that made your head spin.

It really happened. You and Bucky were married. He was your husband. You were his wife. This had to be a dream. But this time, it was not. You were completely his and he was completely yours.

Bucky slid his arm around your waist and led you back down the aisle, family close behind.

The rest of the day you two could not keep your hands to yourself. If you were standing, his arm was around your waist, pulling your back into his chest, If you were sitting, your head was resting on his shoulder, hands and arms tangled together. He kissed you every chance he got; on your cheek, forehead, shoulder, lips. He was not picky.

As the evening went on and the alcohol continued to flow, he became even more handsy, if that was possible. His hand found home on your leg, occasionally teasing the hem of your skirt, Feeling his mother’s eyes on you two you kept pushing his hand away, but he was either oblivious or didn’t care. You certainly didn’t mind, but you did not want or need those looks. Even as a married woman you wanted to be respectable, and it was too early on in your marriage to suddenly end up on his mother’s bad side.

Desperate for conversation you blurt out the first question you could think of.

“Where are we staying tonight Buck?”

In the excitement and commotion of the day, Bucky and you had never stopped to consider what your married life living situation would be.

“You can stay here,” his mother chimed in.

“No!” The declination came from Bucky and you simultaneously,

Realizing the harshness of your answer, you followed up with “thank you Mrs. Barnes, that is very sweet of you. I just would not want to impose.”

Before she could respond, Steve came to the rescue,

“Take the apartment for a couple days, (y/n). Would it be alright if I borrowed Buck’s room here for a couple days Mrs. Barnes?”

It was not the arrangement she was hoping for, but his mother agreed.

Bucky pulled you closer into his side and his lips met your ears.

“Tomorrow we’ll start lookin’ for our home Cookie.”

You nodded in agreement. You liked the sound of that, our home.

“But for now I think it is time we get going.” He stood and extended his right hand to you. “Ready to head home, Mrs. Barnes?”

Your cheeks burned and your head spun at his words. That was going to take some getting used to. Taking his hand, you stood.

He disappeared to his room for a moment to grab his bag he had packed earlier. The two of you said your goodbyes, then started the little walk towards your apartment. At the door you pulled out your keys and unlocked the apartment, pushing the door open. You took a step forward to enter but Bucky stopped you. He scooped you up into his arms, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.

“It’s tradition, babydoll. Can’t have my brand new bride walking herself into our home.” He winked at you and walked inside. He kicked the door shut behind him and turned around for you to lock the door, not ready to set you down just yet.

Bucky kept walking, holding you in his arms, straight back to your bedroom, where he finally set you down on the bed. He held himself above you, eyes locked on your own. Slowly, he moved his head closer, leaning in until his lips met yours, tongue gently finding its way to yours.

Your heart started racing in anticipation of the evening. It was well known that Bucky had...experience with girls. That did not bother you. What made you anxious was the fact that you had none. Of course you were not completely clueless, you had the knowledge, but that was all you had. Bucky knew this though. The night before he left for the war you spoke about it, and he had told you “you’re worth waiting for, (y/n).”

As nervous as you were, you knew there was nothing to worry about with Bucky. He loved you and you loved him. All he wanted now that he was home was to keep you safe.

You stretched your head up and kissed Bucky. “Welcome home, my husband.”

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