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leahluvr · 8 months

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nothing’s wrong - lucy bronze x reader

genre: reader gets diagnosed with a heart condition right before the euro finals, angst

warnings: chronic condition, injury

(requested)

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the last few weeks had been great, but awful. while the excitement for your teams progression in the 2022 euros was unimaginable, your underlying illness threatened to overshadow your joy. before the euros had kicked off, unbeknownst to your long term girlfriend, lucy, you had been feeling agonising chest pains, almost like palpitations, a shortness of breath, feeling lightheaded when standing up after sitting down or after a long day of training, and a plethora of other unusual occurrences. even during times of intimacy with lucy, you struggled to pluck up the courage to ask to slow down, feeling your own heart race and beginning to hyperventilate. you did your best to hide your pain from lucy as you knew she would become overbearingly cautious if you told her anything. you couldn’t burden her.

seeing that you had progressed further into the tournament, you made the responsible decision to visit the gp, brushing it off to lucy, letting her know it was just a ‘yearly checkup’.

“yearly checkup?” she asked, “but, love, we have regular checkups at camp all the time?”

“i know but,” you stopped to think of something to come up with, “my mum’s still got me signed up with this clinic; got the memo from mum and the gp to head in so…”

“alright, well if you say so,” she didn’t look so convinced, but to her, why else would you need to visit a doctor? “good luck, babe!”

she pressed a quick but deep kiss to your lips before you left out the door, keys in hand.

you sat in the waiting room impatiently, your leg shaking uncontrollably. again, out of nowhere, you clenched your chest in pain. you were even more eager than before to find out what was going on with your body, it posed as a constant reminder of your fragile state.

“yn yln” a nurse, holding a tablet, looked around the room before you stood, sending you a forced smile.

“right so, to definitively explain any of these symptoms your experiencing,” the doctor who sat before, you rested his hands on his knees, “we are going to need to run a few tests,”

“and since the mri is available in this schedule block, we’ll get that out the way, other wise you’ll be on a waiting list for possibly weeks.”

you kept your mouth shut and nodded in compliance.

after one uncomfortably claustrophobic mri, a couple of blood tests and other tests you couldn’t quite wrap your head around or understand, you were sat down in front of your doctor again.

“now, you won’t get the test results back for at least a week, so we’ll have you come visit again when we get those processed. given your symptoms and based off previous patients, i’d say you have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, more so known as pots,”

“which means; before you get any prescription medication, i’d advise you not to partake in any vigorous cardio activity like running, long distance walking, swimming or cycling.”

your jaw dropped and you chuckled at the suggestion in utter disbelief.

“i’m sorry but, i’m a professional footballer, i’ve got a semi-final and possibly a final game coming up to play, i’ve never gotten this far before, it’s a once in a life time opportunity. i have play.”

“look, i’d heavily advise you not to play your games at all but, if you do, i’d highly recommend for you to chat to your coach or manager to cut your time on the pitch, you need to let your body rest even if you aren’t experiencing extreme symptoms.”

you weren’t going to let some stupid heart condition stop you from winning that euros trophy with your national team and the love of your life. so what did you do? you didn’t listen. you disregarded your doctors advice with a hefty cost.

the semi-final had a positive outcome, england dominating and leading into the final. you had managed to play for the first half of the match and sat down, breathless and dizzy; you were fine. the test results from the appointment were still yet to come, so you didn’t visit the doctors again before the final game.

you quietly sat next to the right of lucy on the coach, her hand intertwined yours, thumb moving back and forth on your hand to soothe the nerves. the two of you had your heads lent against each other, finding comfort in one another’s proximity. suddenly, you were grasping at your chest, it ached terribly; it felt as though it was burning slowly in molten lava.

“babe, are you alright?” she looked at your with concern, eyes frantic for an explanation.

you eased your expression of pain with a short laugh.

“i think i ate my cereal too fast this morning from all the nerves,” you say, gritting a smile, “i’ve got heartburn!”

“you stupid girl,” she smiled gently, “have some water, love.”

she passed you her water bottle, and as you chugged it down, you were washed with the slight relief of pain and relief of lucy believing you. you could not cost lucy stressing out over you; of all people, especially before a final.

when you took a step into the stadium, the fans roared in anticipation. the energy was palpable, but so was the pain in your chest.

when the whistle was blown, your body moved on sheer willpower, adrenaline drowning out the cries of protest within.

you made eye contact with lucy on the pitch several times, her eyes fixed on you, mixed with pride and concern.

the first half passed in a blur, and as you retreated to the sidelines, you gasped for air, your vision blurring at the edges. lucy rushed to your side, her worry etched into every line on her face.

“sweet, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing a hand on your cheek, “i think you need to stop, yn, sub off for the next half, you look so burnt out.”

“i can’t let the team down, lucy. i’ll be fine!” you managed a weak smile trying to reassure her.

but even as you said the words, doubt crept in. you’d have to push through another 45 minutes of the game. your heart flooded with guilt, seeing as lucy was still unaware of your body’s intentions.

“yn!” sarina called for you, “what’s going on? you’re playing really badly, losing possession of the ball. if you don’t get your head in the game for this next half, i’m going make you sit out, there are other girls here who want to experience the game.”

you looked towards the ground in regret, you knew it wasn’t right for you to play. still, you wanted to contribute to the win, selfishly.

“sorry boss,” you apologised, shooting a smirk, “think it’s all the nerves about winning!”

sarina laughed and let you run off.

during the second half, you found yourself struggling to keep up. despite the excitement of providing the assist to tooney’s first goal for england, the pain in your chest intensified. your breaths came in ragged gasps and your legs felt like lead. despite the signs of your body begging for you to stop, you persisted. you couldn’t give up, there were still a view minutes to go.

in the final moments of the game, you pushed forward, using your last reserves of energy to fuel your movements.

as the crowd erupted in cheers, you collapsed to the ground, hands clawing at your chest that was constricting with pain. the action of having your eyes closed in contribution to the consecutive jabs you felt in your heart, dulled out the noise of your surroundings.

none of the team, not even lucy, had noticed you struggling, they’d all been huddling together and celebrating their history-changing win. you managed to push yourself up from the ground, which was a bad idea. as soon as you stood, your vision began to blur; pitch combining with the crowd. it felt as though gravity pulled you down, as you roughly collapsed to the grass from feeling faint, the next thing you know; everything went black.

it didn’t take long for the team to notice your lack of presence, as they heard the cheers of the crowd had transitioned into gasps and screams.

lucy was by your side in an instant, her hands quickly coming to the base of your neck for support.

“baby, yn, wake up please,” her voice quivered, she brushed your hair away your face and pressing a hard kiss to your forehead.

the team and medics surrounded your limp body, seemingly baffled by the sudden fainting.

but as your body began convulsing and your breath went from unusual to gone, your younger teammates began to cry, turning away from the scene.

“get the paramedics!” lucy’s voice cracked in panic, looking around frantically for someone to say or do something. tears began falling from eyes, and she pushed them desperately away with her hands.

she could see hempo sprinting to the sidelines, asking to get the paramedics that had specially been on standby for the final.

it didn’t take long for the paramedics to have their hands on your chest, wasting no time to check your pulse, going straight to compressing firmly and quickly with no prior precautions.

lucy’s heart shattered when she made out the sound of a few of your ribs cracking from the compressions. was she going to lose you?

lucy had encased your hands in hers the whole ride to the hospital, drowning in fear. but lucy couldn’t look at you, way too scared and worried for your health. the paramedics had managed to get your heart beating at a regular rate and breathing in control, but you were yet to awaken.

the hospital room you were now situated in was quiet, heart rate monitor beeping from normal to moderately high, in waves. lucy stayed by your side, staring at the iv drip slowly releasing into the needle plunged in your arm.

there was a knock on the door and a nurse walked in to look at lucy, a smile on her face.

“hi, a friend, i’m assuming?” she asked, looking back at forth between your unconscious body and lucy.

“nah, girlfriend.” lucy replied.

“oh i’m sorry, um so i’ve got a bit of a synopsis for you. so yn here, seeing she’s been recently diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, the doctors just said that she’s had a severe pots episode, very similar to a heart attack. she’s got a couple of broken ribs from the cpr but, they’ll heal in no time. not to worry, she’ll be okay in a few weeks time.”

“i’m sorry, she’s been diagnosed with what?”

“postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome or you probably know it as pots,” she informed lucy, quickly noticing her face of shock and confusion, “…she hadn’t told you yet?”

“no,” lucy whispered a reply.

“i’m really sorry, it’s a chronic heart syndrome. well, she’ll be awake very soon, so i wish you luck with your conversation. let me know if you need anything.”

lucy curtly nodded to the nurse and watched her walk out the door before repositioning her attention to you. her eyes wavered over your sleeping body.

she placed her hands over her face and broke down crying. she sobbed for minutes, though it felt like hours to her. obsessive thoughts clouded her head, subsequently haunting her.

why hadn’t you told her? were you to scared to tell her? did you not trust her? didn’t you tell her everything? why? did you even love her?

you slowly opened your eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights beaming from above. the sterile smell of the hospital room filled your senses and you tuned in to hear the beeps of the monitor and quiet sobs and sniffles coming from beside you.

“darling, don’t cry,” you croaked, lifting and reaching a heavy arm towards her, though it felt like it was anchored to the bed.

lucy almost plunged towards you when she noticed your voice and lifted her head to see your eyes, droopy, but open. she had to restrain herself from embracing you tightly, as she was reminded of the broken ribs that the nurse had mentioned earlier.

“you scared the shit the out of me,” she whispered in your neck, as you caressed her head gently, “why didn’t you saying anything?”

“i’m so sorry luce, i was so worried i was going to scare you,” you sighed, “i didn’t want to stress you out before the final, so i was going to wait before i told you.”

“yn, i would rather want to make sure your okay, then win some stupid football game. you mean everything to me and i don’t want to lose you.”

“i’m sorry, lucy, i love you.”

“i love you too,” lucy whispered, voice full of emotion, “but promise me you’ll never shut me out. this is such a big thing to hide. we’ll face these things together, no matter what, okay?.”

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an: dk if i like how this turned out 🧍‍♀️

#lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #engwnt #woso one shot #woso community #woso

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Shigaraki, Overhaul and Dabi

with a Pregnant Partner

Shigaraki x GN! pregnant reader; Overhaul x GN! Pregnant reader, Dabi x GN! pregnant reader

Warnings: reader being reckless, fluff, reader is a villain in Shigaraki and Dabi’s part (is that a warning? Idk)

AN: just me being me again 😌💅 living out my hopes and dreams with soft villains

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was a busy man. He was always looking for ways to further his league of villains all while destroying All Might and his stupid protégé, Izuku Midoriya. However, his biggest challenge currently wasn’t his determination to end hero society or even to create a larger foundation for the league but instead, it was keeping his very pregnant partner contained.

“You never let me do anything fun!” You grumbled as Tomura looked at you, completely unfazed by your usual usual temper tantrum. You were six months pregnant and Tomura had learned very early on how little you appreciated his opinion on keeping yourself out of villainy duties, especially since you had become pregnant.

“So you want to give birth in prison YN?” He responds to you as you glare at him, looking around to garner any support from your fellow league memebers.

“Hey don’t look at us Yn, hand man has a point,” Dabi chuckles as Shigaraki ignored his comments, turning back to the house of cards he was currently building.

“YN my dear don’t you think you should prioritize rest especially in your current state?” Mr. Compress interjects as you turn your glare to the magician. You chose to ignore them and go back to the source your current frustration.

“Tomura I’m bored! You can’t keep me locked up in this bar forever!” You whine as Shigaraki sighs. He honestly has no idea what to do with you, and if you meant less to him, he’d probably just kill you but alas, his stupid feelings for you had always gotten in the way.

“Please listen to Tomura Shigaraki YN, he is only looking out for you,” Kurogiri adds as you continue to grumble, folding your arms and stomp your feet. You really were being completely insufferable.

Shigaraki sighed, standing up and resting his head on your shoulder while gently grazing your bump, “YN will you please stop being a brat and listen to us? We- I want you safe and you know what the doctor said. Now please will you stop annoying everyone?”

You rolled your eyes at his confession knowing Tomura meant every word he said. He was rarely affectionate but when he was, you truly knew he cared.

“Ugh fine!” You grumbled as you felt a smirk grow you’re partners face knowing he won, “But the first Nomu attack after I give birth I get to go too!”

Shigaraki chuckled, shaking his head, “whatever you say brat.”

Overhaul

Overhaul opened the door to the bedroom, wanting to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and cuddle with you. He was exhausted, his serum to eliminate quirks was nearly finished and the Shie Hassaiki was ready for phase two of his plan. He opened the door and turned on the bathroom light, looking over to see you sound asleep. Only he wasn’t met with the usual angelic picture of you in slumber, instead he was met with an empty bed. He sighed, leaving your joint room and heading down to the kitchen. His suspicions were confirmed when he noticed the light beaming from below the door.

He slowly opened the door, peering in as he saw you sitting on a stool, eating your current favorite pregnancy craving as you happily hummed away, enjoying every bite.

“Darling, what are you doing?” He asked as you looked up, face beaming with content as you finished your snack.

“Hi Kai! Are you done working? I was waiting for you in bed but then I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d come and have a snack!” You cheered as Kai came next to you, pulling out a stool and sitting with you.

“Would you like a bite?” You asked.

Overhaul looked at you, a look at disgust on his face at your offer, “YN you know I don’t share food.”

You stare at him, deadpan at his confession as you roll your eyes, “you are aware of how I got pregnant right? So you’re really going to sit there and tell me that you won’t eat a bite of my food?”

Kai chuckled as he stood up, grabbing your empty plate and walking it over to the sink. You stood up, heading over to the sink to wash the dishes as Kai stopped you.

“Let me just do the dishes quick and then we can head to bed ok?”

“Leave them darling, someone will take care of them in the morning,” he said as you gaped at him.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband!” You mock gasped as Kai rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand.

“You need to rest YN, now let’s go,” he said grabbing your hand as you followed behind him. You sighed knowing how much your husband loved and cared for you.

Dabi

Dabi was use to living life on his own, that was until you weaseled your way in and never left. At first he found you annoying, and to be fair, the annoyance never really did go away. However, he now found himself in a position he never thought he’d be in and that was head over heels for you. At this precise moment, however, he was more ready to kill you than he was to hug and kiss you.

“You idiot what are you doing out so late!?!?” He yelled a question you knew was retorical as he dragged you through the back alleyway of the leagues hideout. He was pissed and you knew it.

“Well you said you were coming back around midnight and when you didn’t, I got hungry and since we didn’t have anything to eat, I decided to go and get something to eat,” you declared as Dabi growled at you, turning on his heels and glaring daggers into you. You knew you were in some major trouble but unfortunately, cravings don’t wait.

“YN you know we have food, I just got food for you earlier today!” He whisper shouted as you stood there.

“Well I didn’t want that food! The baby wanted instant ramen which we didn’t have!” You growled back as your partner groaned, his hands going to his head as he paced around the alley.

“YN you realize that we are both wanted criminals right?” He said as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Are we really? I had no clue!” You mocked as you made your way to the entrance of the league’s headquarters, bag of noddles in hand.

“YN you need to stop acting so reckless! It’s one thing for me to get caught but you? Giving birth in Tartarus wouldn’t be a walk in the park!” He shouted as you headed to the kitchen.

“You act like giving birth anywhere will be a walk in the park,” you chimed, annoyed at your boyfriend as he followed you. Dabi was furious but he knew he had to calm down. This was exactly the way you were and it’s one of the big reasons he loved you so much, despite how stupidly you acted at times.

“YN listen, I’m sorry for yelling but you are literally being the biggest idiot right now,” he relented as you went about making your noodles.

“Yeah but I’m an idiot with ramen now,” you sang, unphased by your partners outburst.

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He said, sitting down as you turned to him and smiled.

“Love me?” You questioned as an annoyed smirk entered his face.

“You’re lucky I already love you idiot.”

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ohtobeleah · 8 months

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Dark Red // Jake Seresin

Summary: Jake Seresin is usually pretty cool, carm and cock sure of himself. But when his wife has an accident? He hits the deck pretty hard.

Warnings: Character death. Mentions of car accidents. Fainting. Jake Seresin x F!reader.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author Note: Day Eleven of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: ‘Fainting.’ Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

It was enough to shake you that was for sure. The sheer force of the car behind you that had run right up the back of you and sent your bonnet into the back of the car in front of you, practically sandwiching you in, was enough to rattle you.

It was enough to have the airbag deploying in your face, breaking your nose that would surely leave two very black and swollen eyes from the sinus pressure. It was enough to shatter the glass of your front and back windscreens like they were paper thin. The forces had crumbled the aluminum of your 1999 Ford Festiva with ease. Like a paper bag being trot on. The same car Jake was adamant that you finally upgrade from. The same care that you were so attached to.

Guess there wouldn’t be any love lost when Jake found out that your beloved Festiva was totally gone. She was to put it simply—unsalvageable. But at least you were able to walk away relatively unscathed.

“Would you like us to give your emergency contact a call?” Jake Seresin had been your best friend for just over ten years. The two of you had only just recently gotten married after dating for eight of those. There had never really been any real rush to put pen to paper and make all the legal arrangements and challenges. You were pretty content in the role you played in Jake's life. But when his career started to see him in more life threatening situations, he started to wonder what exactly he’d be leaving you behind with. It made sense on paper to get married and it made even more sense to share the Seresin name with the six month old fetus kicking it in utero. Little Baby Seresin.

“My husband’s at work—“ You sighed to the woman checking on your little boy's heart, strong and stable. No signs of distress from his end which was the best possible outcome. “You can probably just clean me up and send me on my way.”

“Hmm—“ Although there were no obvious signs, Linda Masters thought it would be in your best interests to stay overnight for observations. She was waiting to hear back from your OB. “I’d rather keep you in overnight, just to make sure baby doesn’t decide to change his mind.”

“Okay, but when you get someone to call, just make sure you let him know that we’re fine.” You were really insistent on that, you knew how Jake could get when it came to you. For someone who was usually so cool, calm and cock sure of himself, he could get a little flustered to say the very least whenever something involved you. “He doesn’t need to leave work, but he can definitely swing by with an overnight bag afterwards.”

“Oh boy.” You knew that voice from a mile away. “Seresins ganna go into cardiac arrest when he finds out that little miss is sitting in my Emergency Room.” Doctor Benjamin Ocka or more affectionately known by the Daggers as, Doc Ock, cooed as he came up to your bedside. “I was called for a consult?” He addressed the technician who was just packing away her ultrasound machine.

“Y/n Seresin, six months pregnant, sustained a broken nose and possibly sinus damage from her airbag. There doesn’t seem to be any other major injuries, just a couple of bumps and bruises.”

Ben chuckled as he assessed your nose, ears, eyes and mouth. Your bloodied nose was huge, swollen as swollen could be. He knew immediately that you were gonna be on bed rest for a few days. Especially when it came to the part in the healing process where your sinuses would swell so much that you wouldn’t be able to see.

“I’ll call Hangman shall I?” He sighed as he placed his little light into the top pocket of his doctor’s jacket and sat beside you. “Bubs okay?”

“Perfectly fine, we’re staying for a sleepover just to be sure.”

“I’m probably gonna need to readjust your nose.” He frowned softly as he kept assessing your face. “Little bit of surgery but we can discuss that once the swelling goes away—if you can breathe and can deal with a crooked nose for a small period of time I might like to hold off on non essential plastic surgery till after Baby Seresins here.”

Ben was Payback's husband. He was as charming and as a part of your little group as any of the spouses and all Roosters girlfriends were. He cared about the people who took care of his husband in the sky and made sure he got to come home every night.

“Sounds good, but yes—please, call Jake and let him know we’re fine.” You pleaded. “Lead with they're totally fine, if anything this is just a courtesy call from your wife to say that it’s take out for dinner.”

“He’s gonna flip out Y/n.” That was your moment of defeat. You sighed into the pillow of your emergency room bed and let your head lull to the side as you placed two very protective hands across your belly.

“I know.” You grumbled. “I know he is and he’s gonna be so happy about that damn Festiva too.”

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

Jake only wore a Garmin watch when he was on the ground because it was connected to his phone. He only wore a Garmin watch so that if someone called him during the day, all he had to do was look at his wrist and decide if the call was worth taking on the clock.

Jake only wore a Garmin watch for moments like these, where he sat in the middle of a debriefing on this afternoon's drills and saw Payback's husband's affectionate caller ID, ‘Benny Boy’ flash up on the screen.

“I gotta go.” Jake knew deep down Ben wouldn’t call like this if it wasn’t an emergency. “I’ll be right back.” Jake stood so fast that the feet of his chair made a high pitched squeak against the smooth concrete floor. All eyes were on him, colleagues and instructors alike as he rushed out of the hangar and fished his phone, which had been on silent, out of his pocket.

His heart nearly stopped inside his chest when his body and mind immediately knew what to ask as his thumb swiped over the screen of his phone before he held it up to his ear. Shaking, Jake knew that it had to be about you—why else would Ben be calling in the middle of the day when they were both on shift?

“What happened? Is she okay?” It took all the breath out of Jake's lungs when he spoke. He never wanted to get this call. If anyone ever asked him about his biggest fear in life, he wouldn’t say dying in a dog fight or crashing into the pacific. No. He’d say losing the love of his life. “Ben?”

“Hey man.” Ben tried to be as calm as he could be because really, you were fine. There was no cause for concern, just a broken nose. “Y/n had an accident, not her fault, distracted driver situation.” Jake felt like his entire world was crumbling around him as he took panic filled strides towards the locker room. “She’s fine, her nose is busted pretty good but other than that her and the baby are—“ There's a very loud, very audible thud on the other end of the line as Ben checks your lab reports at the nurses station. “Hello?” He questioned with concern laced in his tone. “Hangman? You there?” Ben knows he’s not. “Fuck—“

Meanwhile, on the floor of the locker room, laid Jake Seresin. Completely out cold and unresponsive as his teammates sat in their debriefing wondering what the hell had gotten into the newlywed man they all loved to hate and hated to love.

Jake had smacked his head on the corner of the long metal seat that ran down the middle of the locker hall. He was face down, bleeding pretty bad and had his cheek squished so hard into the grate on the floor it was gonna leave a mark when he peeled himself up. Like those parks you get when you have a killer nap.

The crimson red that pooled on the tiles was thick and spread thin into the grooves of the tiles. It crept its way across the locker room floor like vines. Jake was under, but even in his unconscious state you were the only thing on his mind. You smile, your infectious laugh, the way you looked carrying his son, so swollen and perfect. His wife. The love of his life.

“Can someone go get Seresin?” Mav sighed as he held the bridge of his nose behind the podium. “Rooster, go drag him back here before I send him up there blind.” Everyone knew it was an empty threat, but regardless, Bradley stood to his feet with an exaggerated sigh and headed down the hall in the direction of where he thought his wingman had gone.

Bradley wasn’t expecting to walk into the locker room and see what he saw. He was just trying to make sure Jake didn’t get torn to shreds for ditching during the debriefing. But to his shock horror—as he rounded the corner into the locker room, his heart jumped out of his chest at the sight of his wingman lying face down on the grime covered tiles. There was probably dirt caked into the grouting from when his dad roamed these halls.

“Holy crap—“ It was the first thing out of Bradleys mouth as he made his way over in a hurry. “Hangman?” The way Bradley said his wingman’s callsign was laced in pure panic. “Jake man, you okay?” Rooster shook Jake's shoulder gently at first—but when the six foot something blonde didn’t stir, he shook him a little harder. “Hangman! Wake up man, c’mon open your eyes.”

“Mmhph—“ It wasn’t a word, but a sound, and Bradley was happy with that as he rolled Jake over onto his side to start with.

“Jake you’re bleeding.” It was everywhere. Bradley looked around frantically to try and find what may have been the cause of such a head wound. But when his eyes locked onto the corner of the cold, old metal bench—he knew immediately. “Don’t move alright.”

“Y/n—“ Jake grumbled as he tried to sit up. “My wife.” It was pure need and adrenaline that coursed through Jake Seresins veins the second he’d come to. “I need to get to Y/n—“

“Woah, take it easy Hangman.” Bradley tried to steady Jake as he tried to stand. “You hit your head pretty hard on the bench, we should probably get you to medical?”

“Hospital—“ Was all Jake groaned as he stood, Rooster watched in horror as the blood gushed from Jake’s gash. It looked deep and angry, like he’d been cut almost through his skull. “I need to get to the hospital.” Bradley can’t keep up to save his soul. “Y/n—“ As Jake stands to his very unsteady feet, he mumbled your name over and over as his fingertips reach up to touch the crimson red dripping down his face. “Oh fuck my head.”

“I’ll take you to the hospital if you can remember what happened?” It’s the only way Rooster can think of putting two and two together. Why did Jake need to get to the hospital to see you? And why was he passed out of the floor of the locker room? “Jake? Why’s Y/n at the hospital?” It’s a question laced in as much concern as it is dread. You’re not due yet, what if something happened to the baby and that’s what caused Jake to break? “Is she alright? Is baby Seresin alright?”

The silence that lingered as Jake stumbled his way over towards the door had Rooster's heart caught up in his throat. He knew how much Jake loved you and his unborn child. He knew that the man with the bloodied forehead and the sure fire concussion would move mountains and part seas just to kiss a paper cut on your fingertip. So when Jake stopped in his tracks, swayed side to side as if he was going down again, Bradley knew something had happened that completely rocked Jake Seresins world.

“They were in an accident—“

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

It was the way Jake came racing into the emergency room that worried you the most. He slammed right in for the doorframe like he either didn’t see it or like he’d been running a million miles and hour to get to you.

You hadn’t yet been moved from the emergency short stay area into one of the wards, which you were thankful for the second Ben spotted Jake stumbling towards you with a head laceration.

“Oh my god, what the hell happened?” You asked Rooster as he rushed in after Jake. He knew he was about to cop an earful. “Bradshaw, why is my husband bleeding?” You barely got to ask before Jake was at your side.

“He fainted when he got the call you were in hospital.” Rooster explained softly as he pulled up a chair for Jake to sit beside you in . “Here you, sit down man before the room starts spinning.” Bradley ushered Jake to sit as he reached out for your hands. “You and bubs alright? What happened?”

“We’re fine.” You tried to explain. “Nose is pretty sore but we’re fine.”

“Baby I swear I can’t ever lose you.” Jake began as he sat as close to your bedside as he could. It was the sweetest thing, although you suspected it was all coming from the concussion you knew your husband definitely had. “You or bubs.” Jake placed a gentle hand across your stomach. “My heart nearly burst out of my chest when I got the call.”

“I should probably take a look at that—“ Ben interrupted as he sent you a shy, all knowing smile. “Hit the hard deck, did you Seresin?” Ben chuckled to himself as he gave Jake's head the once over. “I specifically remember telling you that your wife was fine.”

“‘M’panicked, can’t lose her boss.” Jake replied softly as his eyes never left you, it pained him to see you like this. Bloodied and bruised, but alive. “I think I hit my head though.”

“He smacked it pretty hard on the corner of the metal bench in the locker room.” Bradkey added as Ben started to clean out the head wound at your bedside, he knew there was no point asking Jake to move when the answer was going to be a hard no.

“I’ll order a tetanus shot because that thing is grotesque and get some antibiotics sorted.” Ben stated as he worked, Jake however—he never took his eyes off you.

“Did you really pass out when you were told I was in an accident?”

“Can’t lose you.” Was all your husband mumbled against your hand as he kissed your palm. “Can’t lose you, won’t lose you or baby Seresin.”

“We aren’t going anywhere, love.” You sweetly replied as you reached out to caress Jake's chin. “I promise.”

“My head really hurts.” He whispers softly as you chuckled to yourself. “Gotta work on my landing huh?”

“Yeah bubba.” You sighed. “I need you around for the long hall.” As you gently stroked your husband’s chin you saw his eyes begin to roll as he swayed to the left. Jake's entire body stiffened as he lost all sense of direction, his surroundings were gone in the blink of an eye as he began to seize uncontrollably.

“Woah! Hey! HEY I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!” Ben shouted as you watched on in helpless horror as he went with Jake to the ground. Placing him in the recovery position. “LETS GET HIM BACK PEOPLE!”

“Rooster, what's happening?” You sobbed behind your hands as tears poured down your face. “Jake?” It was the last thing you remembered before everything went cold and dark. The last thing you remembered seeing when you woke not a few moments later, was your husband and father of your child—hemorrhaging before you.

All because he bumped his head.

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

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avoxrising · 6 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 11

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I had such a hectic day but decided I wanted to stay up late and upload anyways. Prepare yourselves for a plot twist!!!

Content Warnings - Mentions of suicide/torture

How long had you been here? Weeks? Months? None of that mattered to you. You were happy here.

The capital doctors had fixed you. No more meltdowns over people touching you; no more urges to kill. You were finally healed.

You don’t know why they took the route of healing you while they tortured the others, but who were you to complain? They had made you whole again. Maybe they thought that making you realize the stability you had lived without for the past five years would be a form of torture. Maybe they thought it would make you sad. It didn’t. It made you the happiest you had been in a long time.

The only thing that would make you happier would be seeing Finnick. You know he’s not in the capital. Peeta said he saw him on the screen the other day while he was doing an interview, so you know he’s alive. You just hope you’ll be reunited soon.

Hopefully he will come here and they can fix him too. He may not show it, but his games and the years after have left him with a lot of scars. If he comes, you’ll make sure he gets the same treatment you received.

The power here keeps flickering out. Peeta says it’s cause the dam in District 5 was destroyed. Apparently Finnick and Katniss are in District 13 and the capital sent bombs. Peeta warned them and got extra torture because of it.

Johanna is silent outside of her screams. Whatever they’re doing to her sounds horrible. You don’t want to find out.

“Y/N!” Peeta whispers loudly to you. His room is across from yours and you can hear each other under the door.

“What?” you respond.

“I overheard them talking about you,” he states. “The peacekeepers were talking about your treatment.”

“What about it?” you ask.

“I didn’t hear all of it,” he explains, “and it’s hard for me to know what’s real nowadays, but they said something about a timer going off and how they would make you crazy again. We have to get out before they hurt us.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him annoyed. “They won’t hurt me. Snow promised.”

Just as Peeta goes to respond, the lights cut out again and peacekeepers enter the hall. They usually set up extra guards when the power goes out in case anyone tries to escape. Why would you escape? You like it here.

It must be an hour later when panic sets in. You hear a hiss coming from the hall and what sounds like people falling over. You don’t have time to think, however, before your door is opened and a canister of smoke is thrown into your room. Peeta was right. They are going to hurt you.

“Did you always love her?” Katniss asks Finnick as they wait for the rescue team to return. All communication had been cut off but the two were still holding onto hope that they would return safely.

“No,” he chuckles. “I guess she snuck up on me.”

“How?” Katniss asks.

“After her incident in the capital Snow killed her family,” he explains. “I moved in with her because she wasn’t stable enough to live on her own. We were scared she was going to kill herself and selfishly I couldn’t let the one victor I had brought home at that point die.”

Katniss nods her head in understanding and Finnick continues.

“I don’t know if I’d even call us friends when I first lived with her. She wasn’t thrilled I moved in and found me annoying, yet I was the only one she would talk to. She wouldn’t even speak to Mags,” he states. “Before Annie’s games my nightmares got worse. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night completely disoriented. Instead of running or turning violent she would stay. Whenever I woke her up she would come to my room and sit near me till I fell asleep again. Something just clicked at that point and I knew I couldn’t live without her. I still can’t.”

“I never even told her I loved her,” he sadly says to Katniss.

“She knows,” Katniss responds. “And I know she loves you too.”

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #thg finnick #thg series #finnick odair angst #finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fluff #catching fire #mockingjay #the feral one

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ilguna · 1 year

Text

☼ the water heals our wounds (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick was beginning to believe that the damage done on you was permanent, but he had to try one more idea.

warnings; swearing, death mention, torture mention

wc; 5.3k

–

It’s too loud.

You can hear everything, between the people shouting nearby, and the consistent beeping from machines. There’s voices talking over one another, orders being barked around the room, fighting for more attention.

It’s bringing on a pounding headache, as if there’s tiny people inside of your head, slamming their fists on the inside of your skull with both hands, trying to get out. At first, it’s bearable, considering what you’ve been through lately.

And then it burns.

You fly up in the bed, eyes opening, hands reaching for the source of pain, attached to your forearm. Several people reach to grab and restrain you to keep from moving any further. You can see that there’s a needle, blood moving into a small vial.

“Miss (L/n), we’re just drawing your blood.” A nurse tells you, “You’re in District Thirteen, you’re safe now.”

“Dis—” You begin, and find that your voice is hoarse. You clear your throat, “District Thirteen isn’t real.”

“I assure you, it is.” He says, “We just had a team of volunteers rescue you and a few other victors from the Capitol.”

“The Tribute Center.” You murmur, watching as they pull the needle out, and replace it with a cotton pad, wrapping your elbow. “We were in the Tribute Center.”

“Yes, very good.” He says, “Can you tell me where you’re from?”

“District Four.” Your face twists, the headache is coming back, “Can we—?”

“When did you win the Hunger Games?”

“Sixty-Seventh. Can we talk about something else?” You look away, observing the space you’re in, “Anything else…”

You must be in District Thirteen’s hospital, judging by what you’re surrounded by. You can see a lot of people moving around, dressed similarly. The nurses and doctors look like they’re wearing different outfits than—what you can only guess is—regular civilians. There’s a few people sitting on gurneys dressed in hard armor and bulletproof vests, pockets absent of weapons.

You’d like to say that it’s not usually this busy or disorganized often, and that’s because of how the medical crew are reacting to the sheer amount of people in here. It’s crawling with bodies. They push people on gurneys away into hallways, some straight into private rooms where they pull the blinds, others are subjected to being treated in the main open room, like you.

You must not be high risk, then.

You watch as a team of professionals wheel a gurney by, someone laying unresponsive in the bed. You look away quickly, to the next rapidly moving object, and realize that you recognize the person. You manage to look back in time to see who it really is, stomach squeezing in horror.

It’s Johanna on that bed, head shaven to the skin, scabs covering every inch of available skin. She looks disgusting, but it answers the question that’s been on your mind these past couple of weeks. You finally know what’s been happening to Johanna in the Capitol.

“Are you hungry? Or thirsty?” He asks, “We normally have to wait for clearance, but you’re alert and responsive. They wouldn’t want us to wait for permission.”

“I’d like water, if you can.” You nod, “I’m not hungry, though.”

He gives you a smile, turning to place his hand on the girls’ shoulder next to him, beginning to talk to her. You look away again, towards the doors that have just been pushed open, doors slamming against the wall from the force.

A young woman with dark hair in a braid is looking around the room quickly, searching for something. You get a glimpse of her face, and you know instantly that it’s Katniss Everdeen.

You grit your teeth, a shudder running through your body. You grip onto the railings handles, letting out a shaky breath. You’ve seen her a lot recently, although you’ve never met her, not yet anyway. You had mentored the Quarter Quell—no, no you shouldn’t think about that.

“Gale!” Katniss shouts, starting for him.

A nurse blocks her, saying something, and you’re trying to read her lips, when a voice cuts through the noise.

“(Y/n)!”

You flinch, jerking to the other side of the bed, squeezing your eyes shut. The thoughts—the memories—of all the times he’s screamed your name, screamed at you. The morning he left, the purple bruises…

He punished you, said that it’s your fault this happened.

“Miss (L/n)?” The nurse asks, placing his hand on yours.

You jump, swatting his hand off of yours. In the process, your eyes fly open, catching sight of him—of Finnick—coming towards you. You can’t let him have you, the last time he did—the nightmares still haven’t stopped. You can’t do it again. You need to get out of here.

You almost trip getting out of the bed, legs tangled in the scratchy white hospital sheets. Your bare feet slap against the tile floor, which is cool against your soles. You stumble a few steps to catch your balance before wheeling around, both hands grabbing the gurney.

“Get away from me!” You scream, pulling the back back a bit before launching it in his direction.

You watch his smile drop, eyebrows drawing in. He’s doing it again, the next thing you know he’ll have everyone on his side. He’s not going to trick you, you’re not going back to him this time. You’ll die before you end up in his hands. It was better in the Capitol. He wasn’t there, and you were safe.

A couple people jump to catch the gurney before it slams into him. It almost makes you want to scream at them, too, for trying to protect him. You don’t have time to, you turn around and start for the exit doors on the other side of the room. The male nurse that had been helping you tries to make a grab, but completely misses.

“Stop her!” He shouts.

You slip past several people, slamming into the metal doors, which start emitting a terrible, high-pitched scream that starts once they’re opened. You make a run for it down the long, cement hallways, feet slapping painfully on the floor. You can hear shouting behind you, pleading for you to stop.

You’re faster than they are. The further you run, the less you’re able to hear them, until their voices are gone entirely. You end up tripping into one of the side doors, leading you into a dark room. Good, they shouldn’t be able to find you here for a long time.

You drag your feet to the corner of the room, panting, struggling to catch your breath. The burning in your chest slowly grows stronger, you dig your nails into your collarbone, trying to distract from the pain.

You slide down the wall, letting out a sob, hands moving to clamp over your ears to block out the humming sound coming from somewhere inside of the room.

—

You hate the hospital wing of District Thirteen.

Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with the fact of how the medical team is treating you. For once in your life, they couldn’t be more considerate and caring about your feelings. It’s refreshing, considering you’ve been in and out of the hospital since you won the Hunger Games.

The Capitol didn’t catch that your immune system was weaker than it had been before. You were home for a week before you caught the nasty disease that was going around the district. You spend two and a half months in the hospital trying to recover and leave.

You honestly thought you were miserable in the arena, but it was nothing compared to how they treated you in the Four hospital. You know it was nothing personal, that’s how they treated all their patients. It was just so odd to see so much aggression in a place of healing.

There were a few times you almost left the hospital without being discharged because you couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s difficult to deal with that behavior in such a fragile state of mind. You couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares that plagued you, you were hardly eating because every bite made you nauseous.

The only reason why you were convinced to stay each time was because of Finnick. You think you remember him telling you that you could risk putting yourself in more danger if you didn’t stay. The last thing you wanted to do after you won the Games was die when you got home.

When you told that story to the Head Doctor here—mostly the part that you hate hospitals, in hopes that he would change his mind and let you stay in your own dorm—he hung onto that story, and a certain factor about it. Like how you didn’t mention Finnick in a negative light.

Those times in the hospital could’ve very well have been Finnick drawing you in. You smelt honey each time you were around him, making you feel safe enough to land. And the second you did, he trapped you.

The doctor won’t let you leave, no matter how many times you beg him to.

Like you said, you completely understand that they’re just doing their jobs when they come to check on you, and accompany you to the bathroom, and take you for walks around the hallways. The issue is that there’s nothing more you want right now than to be left alone.

When they hover like this, it’s like they’re trying to set you back. They did this in the Capitol, hovered over your smallest movements, made you second-guess your sentences. Now, you’re always waiting for the nurses here to say something like they did, always waiting for the drop that’ll never come.

“Do you want to go around one more time?” The nurse asks.

“No, I’m done.”

There’s no point in walking around these halls. There’s nothing to look at, no rooms to look inside of. All it does is leave you to your thoughts, because half of the time, the nurses can’t bring themselves to carry a conversation. You might as well stay inside of your room.

“You remember that you’re supposed to be pushing yourself, right?” She asks.

“He wants me to push myself to walk in a rectangle?” You snap back, looking at her, “I can obviously walk just fuckin’ fine. They didn’t break my fucking legs.”

“It’s to keep up your stamina.”

“If you wanted to test my stamina, then you’d let me walk around the entire bunker and keep your fucking mouth shut to see how long I’ll go for.” You shake your head, rounding the corner to go inside of your assigned room.

You make it two steps before you stop, eyes locked on the foreign object. Your foot moves back to get you out of there, but you know that there’s nowhere to run to, anymore. You need clearance to get through the doors, and you can’t do it without one of the nurse’s approval.

You would’ve snuck out by now if you could.

Your arms wrap around your upper body to hug yourself, fingers digging into your upper arm’s flesh to ground yourself.

It’s just a vase of flowers, it can’t hurt you. What can, is the thought of him being in here, delivering these himself. What else can be in here? What of your belongings did he touch? Is this why the nurses insisted that you get out of bed at that exact moment.

“(Y/n)?”

“Was he in here?” The words are harsh.

“No, we don’t let visitors back here, they are to wait in the lobby.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is surprisingly measured, despite the uncontrollable urge to freak out. You grip your arms tighter, “Was he in here?”

She’s silent for a few seconds, “Yes.”

“Why on earth would you let him?” You tear your eyes from the flowers, “Who approved of that?”

“Doctor Hurley did.” She says, “There’s been so much progress between you two, so he allowed Finnick to come in here on special request to deliver a gift. He picked the flowers himself this morning. He wanted them at their freshest.

You begin to take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, “I don’t understand.”

“What’s the matter?”

“You let him in my space?” You ask, tears building in your eyes. You can’t be safe, not even back here, in an area where you can’t escape if he were here. Is he here? “The one place that he wasn’t supposed to have access to? You let him in here? What did he touch? Did he leave?”

There’s a smile that hints at the corners of her lips. He must’ve talked to her, that’s the only reason why she thinks it’s okay. He told her the same sob story that he told you to get you to stay. She’s supposed to be on your side.

You start inside of your room, one long stride after the other, hand reaching for the clear vase of colorful flowers, paired together to show the end of summer, the beginning of fall. There’s a few long leaves sticking out, giving you more of the outdoors.

You twist around, letting out a scream as you throw the vase at the nurse. She jumps out of the way, making it shatter against the concrete wall instead, glass bursting into pieces, flying in every direction. The bundle of flowers lands in the puddle of glass and water.

—

“I want to go to the cafeteria to eat!” You shout, hand flying out in the direction of the door, “I don’t understand why Peeta’s allowed to go and I’m not!”

Doctor Hurley is shaking his head at you, face twisted like it always is when he’s delivering bad news. Behind him stands Boggs, the head of security, arms crossed and waiting in the doorway. You demanded to see both of them today, because it would be the only way to appeal to both at the same time.

“It’s not an act of unfairness, (Y/n).” Doctor Hurley says, “Let’s say you have an episode, there’s a chance you could trigger both Johanna and Peeta at the same time too. And it’s vice versa with Peeta.”

“You really think that Peeta’s aggression could set me off?” You ask, “Peeta and I might have had the same treatment, but it was obviously done in different ways. He’s aggressive towards Katniss, and they made me afraid of Finnick.”

“Yes, precisely.”

You turn your attention to Boggs, “Please, you know that my first reaction wouldn’t be to fight. The first thing that I’d do is run. All you’d have to do is worry about getting Peeta under control.”

“We would still have to spend time finding you after you run. That first day you came here, you only had access to the hospital wing, and it took hours for us to find you. It’ll take longer, possibly days, if you went hiding here.” Boggs says.

“Yet you were able to find Katniss each time she hid, right?” You shoot back, watching his face twist. “Yeah, I know about that because of Haymitch. And worst-case scenario, if you can’t find me, I come down from the hysteria and come out myself.” Now you look back at Hurley, “You’ve been teaching me self-soothing techniques for a reason to bring myself back down when I’m feeling that way.”

Hurley shakes his head, “This is not a time to put that to the test.”

You cross your arms, shaking your head, “Then why don’t you send Johanna or Peeta to their rooms? It’d be a fair trade-off.”

“We can’t, we’re under special orders from Coin to continue to push his progress. We need him outside of his comfort zone.” Boggs says, “And Johanna’s stable enough to mix her with the other victors. We can’t risk a third.”

“So he’s the golden one, again?” You ask, “You say that it’s not a matter of being unfair, but that’s exactly what it is.”

“(Y/n), why don’t you go down on a different day?” Hurley asks, “It’ll still let you feel some sense of normalcy.”

You slam your fists into the desk, the tray full of food rattles against the wood, “You only let them go down once a week! I don’t want to sit with people I don’t know! I want the victors, for fuck’s sake!” You scoot away from the table, back further onto the bed to give you more leg mobility. This is when you draw your leg back and kick the table so it topples over, the tray hits the floor, food splattering up the wall. “I want to see Finnick!”

The room’s silent for a good minute, while you struggle to get your emotions under control, realizing that this is exactly what they meant about you triggering Peeta and Johanna. These outbursts don’t help you, but what else are you supposed to do? They don’t listen to you. They back you into a corner and give you solutions you don’t care about.

“You said—” You begin, wiping the tears that are forming in the corners of your eyes away, “You said that denying me things like this is a step back.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Hurley says.

“It feels like you’re trying to keep me from moving forward, by keeping me away from them. How am I supposed to know how to act around them, if you don’t give me a chance?” You ask, “I want an opportunity.”

Boggs watches you for a few more seconds, and then he lets out a sigh, “Tell the nurses to give her a jumpsuit.”

Hurley turns to look at him, “After this?” He motions to the mess on the floor, “How do you think Peeta will react?”

“I think Peeta’s shown a lot of empathy for the people that were with him in the Capitol, recently.” Boggs says, “He’s made it a long way as well, and I’m not going to prioritize him. If there’s a step back, fine. We have another couple of weeks to work on it.”

“If you think so.” Hurley looks at you, “We’ll have a nurse bring a jumpsuit. Boggs will bring you down.”

“Thank you.”

Both of them leave, heading in the direction of the nurse station at the end of the hall. You try not to bother them too much if you don’t have to. They’ve begun to lift a lot of the restrictions they’ve put on you, which is a relief. It’s driving you crazy to be treated like a child.

While you wait, you go over to clean up the mess you made. You place the table upright, and get to work on using napkins to scoop the specific portions of food back onto the metal tray. By the time Boggs comes back, the food is relatively gone, and you can’t even tell you knocked the table over.

He hands over your new outfit, one that you’ve worn a few times before. You take it, and shuffle inside of the bathroom. You use the one hair tie they allow you to have to tie your hair out of your face, and then you change into the grey outfit. You leave the bathroom, pulling on your flats, because that’s all they allow you to have.

Boggs escorts you out of your room, down a hall and through a pair of swinging doors. They moved you out of the first area because you stopped showing a threat of escaping. You nearly cried when they told you the news, because the nurses there are significantly meaner than the ones over here. And they’ve told you several times that they would never have let Finnick go into your room like that, regardless of what Doctor Hurley approved.

The moment you step foot out of the hospital, you wrap your arms around your body to hold in the anxiety that’s beginning to bubble inside of you. In a few days, it would’ve been two weeks since you last saw Finnick. You’re not used to him being away for so long, especially with how persistent he is. You’ve been told by the nurses that it’s because he’s working on something with Coin, Plutarch and Haymitch.

When you asked more about it, you were told that they didn’t know anything. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be allowed to tell you, because you haven’t hit that stage yet. Yes, you’re a victor, and you’ve just managed to survive the Capitol, but that doesn’t give you a rite of passage here.

Boggs brings you to an elevator, where he has you step inside, and then pulls the door down. He presses a button on a box next to him, and the two of you begin your descent to the cafeteria’s floor. The elevator’s not even close to as nice as the ones from the Capitol, those ones move smoothly and noiselessly.

It stops, he pulls the door open, and leads you to the cafeteria doors. He stops in front of them, “If you feel the need to leave, you have to let me know.”

“I will.” You nod.

“We’ll grab you a tray, and then sit down with them. Lunch just started, it should be over in thirty minutes.”

You nod again, letting him know you’re listening. He goes through the doors, and you follow behind him, hugging yourself tighter to give you something to focus on. A few people glance to look at you, but their eyes don’t linger for very long, returning to the person they’re talking to.

Boggs brings you to the short line that leads to the window where you get your food. When it’s your turn, the lady on the other side gives you a wide smile, and tells you to enjoy. You wonder how many of the people in here know who you are.

Boggs starts walking away, and you follow behind him, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, because you can no longer hug yourself. You’ve got the tray in your hands, something to focus on.

“Mind if we join you?” Boggs says, stepping aside.

You suck in your bottom lip, giving a smile to the table of victor’s in front of you.

“I was wondering when they’d finally let you out of your cell.” Johanna says first, motioning to the one open spot, “We have so much to catch up on.”

“Trust me, it was a fight to even come eat lunch down here.” You set the tray on the table, and then move to sit on the bench. Peeta scoots over to give you more room, “If it weren’t for Boggs, I’d be eating my lunch off of the floor.”

He laughs behind you.

“Lucky you.” Peeta murmurs, “You do that often?”

You breathe out a laugh, “I try not to anymore.”

You pick up the fork, twisting it in your hand, looking up to see exactly who you’re sitting with. Johanna’s sitting across from you, with one leg up on the bench, leaning into it while she eats. Peeta’s sitting to your right, his own personal bodyguards tower behind him, they must not bother him.

Katniss is sitting across from Peeta, but she’s more toward the end of the table, eating with the man you saw on your first day, the one she couldn’t see, Gale. On the other side of Johanna sits a blonde girl, twirling her hair around her finger. She offers you a wide smile.

And the last person, who was on the other side of Peeta—now next to you—is…

You swallow thickly at the sight of Finnick, feeling your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. Usually when you see him, it’s across a table, at the far side so that you’re not close. Always your request, never his. He goes along with it because he doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable.

You have to quickly remind yourself that he won’t hurt you. Doctor Hurley and his team of doctors have been working hard to try and reverse the damage that was done in the Capitol. However, if there’s one thing that people tend to hold onto the most, it’s fear.

Finnick raises his eyebrows, the small smile he was holding is slowly fading, “Do you want me to move?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, “It wouldn’t be a big deal, you didn’t know—”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. I heard you’re working on some projects with Beetee?”

Finnick’s expression transforms entirely, lighting up, “Yes, he’s showing me new trident designs. You’d love them, he made one the other day that made me think of you. It had these vines that snaked around the handle, and bright colorful flowers. It’s not practical to use, but I know how you like the prettier looks.”

“Maybe you can show me the next time we have our meeting. It was on paper, right?”

“Yeah, I think he made a small prototype, it’s plastic, so hopefully it’ll pass through the doors.” Finnick shrugs.

“That sounds nice.”

Johanna lets out a scoff, “Nerds.”

—

“I still can’t believe you convinced them to let both of us up here.” You say, jogging slightly to catch up with Finnick. “And alone?”

“I have a way with words.” Finnick turns to wink at you, “You’re going to love it.”

He readjusts the bag he has on his shoulder, it’s gotta be heavy. You offered to carry some of the food inside, but he told you that he wants you to enjoy being outside again for the first time in months.

“This is the last door.” He tells you, going through it first, and then holding it open.

The sunlight streams through the door, and blinds you on your way through. You take in a deep breath as soon as you’re fully outside. It smells so fresh, lighter than the recycled air from inside. The sun on your skin feels nice, and it’s warm.

“Johanna would love it up here.” You murmur, crossing your arms over your chest, “Do you think they’d let her out?”

“If she shows signs of getting better, they will, but she’s having issues at the moment.” Finnick shakes his head, “I wish it could be the three of us again.”

You nod, “So where are we picnicking? Right here?”

Finnick scoffs, “Are you kidding? No, I’ve got a special spot that you’re also going to love?”

“How deep?” You ask, “We shouldn’t go too far.”

“It’s not too far, I promise. It’s closeby, Katniss showed me where it is.”

“Okay,” You motion for him to go first, “Lead the way.”

Finnick begins walking along a path that has been stomped into the ground. The two of you travel through the trees, and you can’t help yourself when you touch every green object you pass. The bark, the leaves, the grass, the rocks. You pluck a white flower out of a bush and carefully tuck it behind your ear.

“Can I ask what you and Katniss passed? I heard it was some sort of test.” You pull a leaf off of a plant to fold and pull apart while you walk. “I was going to ask Johanna but I was told I couldn’t see her.”

“I can tell you, but you can’t go and tell Boggs that I did. You can’t tell anyone, actually.” He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes lingering on the flower.

“Promise.” You smile.

“Well, they’re planning an attack on the Capitol, which you already know.” He starts, “The test Katniss and I took was to see if we were eligible to join.”

You can feel the smile disappear from your face, “Why would you want to do that?”

“To help, of course.” He says, “I was placed on the same squad as Katniss, Boggs is going to be leading it. Johanna failed the test, she freaked out. That’s why she wasn’t available for visitors. I had to fight them to be let in.”

“When are you going?” You ask, fingers gravitating toward your mouth, teeth biting onto nails.

“Soon, hopefully. We won’t know more information until we ship out.”

You’re not sure why they, Katniss and Finnick, would want to go there after seeing what happened to you, Johanna and Peeta. Haven’t they learned anything from it? What happens when they get captured? They’re automatically killed.

“That’s a bad idea.” You murmur, “For either of you to go.”

“Our luck, we won’t even be able to do any of the action.” Finnick shrugs, “I could tell by Boggs’ face that we’re going to be decoration.”

You hum, “How much farther?”

“Only a couple more minutes.” Finnick tells you.

He changes the topic, talking about Peeta’s cake decorating skills from a couple of weeks ago. They threw a party and filmed it to use for propaganda. You were in a few of the shots, but not many. The cake that Peeta made had to be carried out by four people, and they were careful not to ruin the beautiful icing that must’ve taken Peeta hours, despite his skilled hand.

You wish you had even half the talent that he does.

“We’re going this way.” Finnick begins to go down a slope, you follow, not really paying attention.

And then you hear it, the sound of running water. You pick up speed, going right past Finnick to see if what you’re hearing is correct. You’re led to a tree, a patch of shade, and beyond that, a small cliff that leads to a shallow river.

“Oh my god!” You gasp, “You knew this was here?”

“That’s what I was bringing you to.” He laughs, placing the bag down by the tree. He reaches in to pull out the blanket, spreading it over the patch of shade.

You reach to pull off your shoes, not bothering to entertain the idea of sitting down, not with something so refreshing and familiar nearby. You throw your shoes by the end of the blanket, and move on to rolling up the legs of the jumpsuit, not wanting them to get soaking wet.

“What are you doing?” He asks, looking up at you.

“I’m getting in, of course!” You turn away from him, heading to the river.

“Wait!” He shouts behind you, getting up, “What if it’s faster than you think?”

“So be it! Let me get carried away by the waves!” You laugh, sitting down on the edge before scooting in.

You’re afraid that you’re going to land harshly on rocks, but your feet sink into mud. The water is cold, but not as bad as it can be back home in Four. It feels nice on your skin, and combined with the sun… it really is a perfect day for a picnic.

You wade deeper into the water, feeling it go up to your knees. When you turn around, you’re met with Finnick, standing at the top, staring down at you. You splash a handful of water in his direction, letting out a laugh.

“This is so much better than taking a shower and pretending it’s raining!” You throw your head back, arms out while you spin slightly, “I love it!”

“You don’t want to eat first?” Finnick asks, laughing.

You wave the idea away, “This reminds me of the summer after I won. How we went to the beach all day, forgot sunscreen and went back home burnt to hell. It hasn’t been that hot in a long time.”

Finnick’s face twists, a pout appearing for a second, before it disappears, “I remember.”

“Get in here!” You splash at him again.

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thegettingbyp2 · 3 months

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hii! i love your writing, and i’ve been like bed-ridden for the past two days from really high fever and couldn’t help but wonder how Coryo would act and maybe comfort reader if she’s sick, and i was wondering if you could maybe please do a little blurb about that? thank you!! 🤍🤍

It's Just a Fever

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When you didn’t show up for your study session, he’d never admit it, but Coriolanus was worried. You never missed your study dates and, as a result, Coriolanus thought that it was very odd when you didn’t turn up. He sat and thought about it for a while and realised that you hadn’t actually spoken to him for the past couple of days and that began to freak him out even more. Coriolanus thought that he’d finally found someone who accepted him as he is and it terrified him to think that you might have change your mind.

The moment he arrived at your house, your mother let him in, pointing him in the direction of your bedroom, knowing that you’re the reason he’d come. He knocked lightly on your door, opening it gently when he heard you call softly. He was greeted by the sight of you curled up in bed, practically smothered by your blankets.

‘Hi, love,’ Coriolanus murmured softly, not wanting to disturb you. The sound of his voice had you sitting up in bed slightly, not expecting him to have come.

‘Coryo? What are you doing here?’ you asked and the moment you spoke, he knew you were ill. Your voice was scratchy and you sounded tired. Even from the doorway, he could see that your eyes were red and you were shivering.

‘I was worried,’ he admitted and you noted the wary look in his eyes, clearly unused to admitting things like this. ‘I haven’t heard from you for a couple of days and then you didn’t show up to our study date so I thought you were avoiding me or trying to break up with me.’

‘No!’ you exclaimed, your voice cutting out by a cough before you sat up a bit straighter, leaning on the headboard. ‘I’ve just been ill, I haven’t looked at my phone so I wasn’t able to text you. I don’t want to break up, I’d never want that!’

Coriolanus felt a wave of relief wash over him as he made his way further into the room, closing the door gently behind him. He walked over to your bed and sat on the edge. ‘Are you cold?’ he asked, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. ‘Baby, you’re burning up,’ he said, making to move some of the blankets off of you in an attempt to cool you down.

‘It’s just the fever,’ you protested, pulling the blankets back around you, ‘I’m actually freezing.’

‘You’re cold?’ he asked, furrowing his brows, absentmindedly tightening the blanket around you. ‘Have you called the doctor because your skin is boiling to the touch but you’re cold and - ’

‘I don’t need to call the doctor, it’s just the flu, Coryo, I’ll be fine in a couple of days,’ you reassured him, cupping his cheek with your palm and he couldn’t help but notice that your skin was slightly clammy.

Coriolanus looked at you for a couple of seconds, still trying to decide if he was going to call the doctors or not. However, the look in your eyes told him that there was no point in trying to convince you. Sighing, he untucked the blanket and slid in next to you, pulling you to lay across his chest, his ice cold hands resting against your skin, trying to break your fever. ‘Wait, what are you doing?’ you protested, trying to escape his hold. ‘You’ll get ill too.’

‘If I get ill I get ill,’ he replied calmly, ‘but I’m not letting you sit on your own. So, we’re going to lay in bed, watching whatever films you want until you get better. Understand?’

You hid your smile in his shirt before replying in a muffled voice.

‘Understand.’

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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toms-cherry-trees · 1 year

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First of all congrats on your 1500 followers! 🥳

I love your work so I’d like to send in a gif request for your milestone celebration. The type of blurb I’m thinking about is angst but on the other side I don’t really mind so do what feels best for you!

Thank you for your request! Honestly I feel like this gif makes the perfect scenario for some good ol angst so thank you for sending it! I did drift from the gif into an scenario of my own but you can sort of see where the gif could fit in this

'Mars 1.5K Celebration'

Portrait || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Death, mentions of infertility, Tommy cheating and then regretting it

Swirls of dust danced in the stale air. They piled in every corner, every surface, hung from the drapes in masses of dirt, and elevated into puffs every time something disturbed them with their step. But it had been a long time since someone disturbed the stillness.

Amidst all sat a man. The blue of his eyes had lost their spark, the overgrown and unkempt beard had obscured his sharp features. Streaks of grey crossed his one lustrous hair. A cigarette hung from his fingers, a cigarette he failed to bring to his mouth, letting it turn to ash and crumble down, repeating the process over and over again until the cigar case was empty. In his other hand hung a bottle of fine Scotch, but he would not have noticed the difference between it and the cheapest stout; everything in his mouth turned to dust. He himself was turning to dust.

Tommy sat before a painting of a woman. Her smile reminded anyone who looked at her of the famous Gioconda; the sweetness, the cheekiness. Her piercing eyes follow you across the room, watching you through thick eyelashes casting shadow in her cheekbones. Tommy had once been fortunate enough to have the real thing in his arms. And then he had been foolish enough to waste it.

Whenever he closed his eyes he could see her. Her hair blowing in the sea air, while they were en route to their honeymoon in New York. Smiling at him over her shoulder in a gala, wearing that red dress that brought Tommy to his knees. Tangled in his sheets, her legs intertwined with his own and cradling his hand in her bosom, the gentle whisper of her breathing lulled Tommy into dreamless sleep.

He also remembered her tears. How they tracked down her cheeks every time she got her period, yet another failure to have a child of their own. The way they glossed over her eyes while they waited together in the doctor’s office, hands laced together and her leg bouncing nervously. The way they dampened the pillow for days after, while Tommy attempted futilely to soothe her woes and assure her that he would love her, baby or no baby

Oh, but nothing matched her fury. When red clouded her judgement, the ground trembled and the windows rattled with the power of her ferocity. Tommy had only once found himself in the receiving end of her tempestuousness, and not once in his life had he felt so diminished by a woman so sweet. The vase she had flung in his direction had never been meant to harm him, but had surely served the purpose to give him a taste of terror.

Yet nothing matched the calm, serene apathy in her features when she awaited for Tommy, sitting at the foot of the bed, her two suitcases neatly packed at her side. When Tommy jokingly asked her if she was planning a trip, she threw a bunch of papers in his face. When his eyes fell on the letter, all colour drained from his face. Saliva turned to cement in his mouth, keeping him from spilling any of the hundreds of excuses that had formed in his brain. But whatever train of thought he had was cut short by her dry words.

“I cannot tell what is worse, Thomas. That you got another woman pregnant and tried to get her to rid of the child, or the fact that you wrote the letter from your own fucking hand”

No amount of explaining, of begging, or excusing himself had been able to undo the damage. It had been a moment of weakness, just one, an impuissance of the flesh, it had meant nothing, it was just business, a transaction, a desperate moment of need. The excuses tied in his tongue and made him trip over his words, but they all came down to the same thing. He had failed her, he had failed the one person who had managed to love him past all his walls. This only added insult to injury at their fruitless attempts to start a family of their own. The fact he said it was ‘one time’ made it worse; one time it took for her to fall pregnant. One time unlike his wife

Tommy had actually fallen to his knees, albeit accidentally, in his haste to make her stay, promising everything that was his to promise and more in exchange for one more chance. But it was all in vain, and he was forced to watch her leave into the night, leaning into the threshold for support, for he did not trust his knees to hold his weight. A cold, heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach, a sense of impending doom tightening his heart as her car became smaller and smaller into the road.

It did not take long for him to see her again. The very next day, in fact, when he received a call from the police to identify a body in the mortuary. A car had veered off the road and fallen into the water, probably trying to evade an animal. He did not need them to pull back the sheet; all he needed to see was the ring in her hand, the same ring he put in her finger five autumns prior. He had felt the cold of the jewel against his skin in bed, and his lips had touched the black stone when he kissed his wife’s hand. He asked them not to remove the sheet. He didn’t want to see her face. The same reason he demanded the casket be kept closed during the burial

If he did not see her face, he could pretend she was away, somewhere, anywhere in the world that could bring her happiness. He could pretend she had not spent her last hours heartbroken, betrayed by the one person who should have guarded her back. He could pretend she would one day come back, with her smiles and her tears and her groundbreaking fury, with the ring in her hand and his name on her lips.

The moment he returned home, his gaze landed in the portrait. She had sat for that painting only for his pleasure, wasting hours and days in the library, her back stiff and her eyes watering from the effort not to blink as the canvas and the artist did their best to capture her beauty, dolled up in her wedding dress and her hands laced in her lap. The veil hanging from her hair and pooling around her in a sea of white gauze

Swiftly, Tommy had her portrait moved from the gallery and hung in his room. Spending his nights and days under her gaze, tracing with his finger the curve of her smile, the line of her chin. It became his obsession, his only reason to wake in the morning. To look into those eyes, to dream of her hands on his chest, to reminisce in the warmth of her lips. Long after her smell had faded from her pillows and her clothes, he still found comfort in the painting. He could not bear to be away from it, not for one second. Clinging onto the very last memory of what he had and had lost. Even as years passed and his life withered away, he sat there, in front of that image of his wife, the door always unlocked for the day she would return.

And until then, he would wait.

#tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #marsie writes #mars 1.5k celebration #asks #tommy shelby #thomas shelby

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littlebluespoon · 6 months

Text

Isolated ~ Stuck (Octo!König) Ch 5

Apologies for the longer wait, I had uni and family and new tattoos to deal with and I also tried to make this chapter longer.

But here we are, chapter 5

König reaches out to you. You reach out to someone else.

2K, MDNI 18+ stalking, mentions of vomiting, hybrids and all that jazz.

🤦🏻 knew there was something I’d forgotten to put in the notes.

Perle is German for Pearl and kleiner artz is German for little doctor

A03 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/51314596/chapters/131934805

~~~

It had been weeks since you received the pictures. You were going to throw them in the pile of rubbish for the incinerator but realised that would leave a chance for other people to see them and if whoever this was found out you’d thrown the pictures out well, you didn’t want to think about it. You scavenged a box from recycling and shoved everything from the first ‘gift’ to the pictures in it and kicked it under your bed. Out of sight and hopefully out of mind was what you were going for.

By the time you had dealt with the ‘gifts’ and rechecked your room for any signs of another person or hidden cameras you had missed breakfast. It was a big deal though as you were spending the morning doing inventory and ordering supplies, busy work that kept you at your desk where you knew you had a stash of protein bars. Where you were supposed to have a stash of protein bars. Either you’d miscounted how many you had left or you had a thief. Your thief had to be Gaz, the fox hybrid had a habit of stealing when he was bored. He never took anything that was important to you or work related, usually food or clothes he knew you had spares of. You’d had to hunt him down several times to find your missing hoodies and socks. It seemed you were destined to go hungry until lunch today.

The knock on your door was unexpected. You were off medical duty today in order to stock count so no one should be coming to you for medical care,

“Who is it?” you call out through the closed door.

“It’s me Perle, can I come in?” the heavy, Austrian accent gave him away. König. It was here you realised you’d never actually spoken with him, too him certainly but never with. You’d never heard his voice.

Another knock startled you, “König? Yeah, come in,” You got up and made for your med kit, you might be off duty but you’re still the only one on base with the training needed for König’s medical care and considering your past experiences you were expecting the worst.

A muffin. Your favourite muffin. König was holding your favourite muffin. He was holding your favourite muffin? You stared at him as he crossed the doorway, assessing him. No blood, no missing or extra limbs, no limp, no obviously broken bones. He didn’t need medical attention from what you could see. Unless it was something embarrassing and private but unlike other soldiers on base you didn’t think the Colonel was the type to sleep around and contract several STDs.

Confused, you just continued staring at him until he offered you the muffin,

“You missed breakfast this morning. Thought you might be hungry.” He gave a small shrug as he handed you the muffin.

“I did. I am,” you give him a bright smile, “Thanks, these are my favourite too!” munching on the muffin and assured that he wasn’t in danger of passing out on you, you settled back behind your desk and gestured for him to sit too.

“So just a muffin that brought you down or do you need something from me?” you ask around a mouthful, thinking that maybe this was a more routine medical issue.

“I can’t come and see my favourite Kleiner Artz?” his eyes scrunch up underneath his mask, it’s a small sign that tells you he’s smiling. Ghosts’ eyes do the same, that how you know, “You missed breakfast and it was pancake day, you never miss pancake day so I wanted to check on you. Noticed your teammates didn’t come see you, is that how the legendary 141 operate?” His concerned tone is what you notice most, it sounds genuine enough but there just something about it that leaves you on edge.

“Ah, you’re scouting.” Throwing the wrapper in the bin before mustering your professional voice, the one you use on superiors who try to refuse medical treatment, “While I appreciate the concern Colonel, my team and I operate just fine. I’m quite happy with my working conditions and no, I’m not interested in a pay rise. Does that satisfy you?” plastering a fake smile on your face you wait for him to dismiss himself, even though you don’t technically have to conform to the PMCs ranks you feel it’s disrespectful to fully dismiss them.

He slowly shuffles towards the door, stopping and shaking his head before closing it behind him. Like he had something else to say however you didn’t have much time to dwell on it as you had supply forms to be completing.

~~~~~

It was after 3pm before you had finished all the forms which meant if you wanted them ordered today you had to hand them to your lieutenant personally, which was no easy task. Figuring one of the sergeants might have seen him at some point you stop by their shared office first,

“Hey, has LT been around today?” standing in the doorway you watch as Soap lines up a spit ball with Gaz’s head,

“Something about meeting with the Cap and paperwork. Probably in his office.” Comes the reply from Gaz. Just as he looks up towards you Soap sees his moment and fires, hitting Gaz right above his eye.

“Ha, that serves you right for eating all my snacks. I’ll be back, gotta get these to LT before four.” You walk off, throwing a wave behind you and keeping an ear out for the chaos that often followed the two.

Just as Gaz had said, Ghost was in his office. Cursing at paperwork and idiots and probably every officer on base by the sounds of it. Knocking on his door you waited for the command to enter and give him your request,

“Supply forms sir, there’s a few of them that are urgent. Should probably take priority over field reports.” You hand him the forms, knowing he’d take the opportunity to do anything other than read recruits reports.

“Thanks, I’ll get them in tonight,” he puts them on top of a pile but doesn’t dismiss you as expected, “You missed breakfast. Everything solid?” he asks.

“Yes sir, just overslept.” You give him nod, keeping it short so he has less time to sense the lie.

“Alright, let me know if you need anything though yeah?” He doesn’t dismiss you until you acknowledge his indirect order after which you make a beeline back to your office. You always feel like Ghost sees your soul whenever you stand in front of him like that and you need some time to decompress. Especially with the paranoia from last night still lingering.

~~~~~

Your office was a safe space, despite all the physical trauma it sees, it’s where you go to centre yourself. To just be. For you it’s a sanctuary of hope, of where you do your best work and in the moments where there’s no emergency to be dealt with its tranquil and peaceful. With the rain tapping against the window and all your paperwork done, you settle in to enjoy a quiet moment. Closing the door and with your back against it, eyes closed and just breathing. In, out. In for one, two, three, four, five. Out for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

The silence you can hear is a rare thing on a military base. No shouting, banging, not even a vehicle passing. Just the rain. And? Bubble wrap? Focusing on the sound, pop, pop, pop. It’s not a gun, you’re far too familiar with those and it’s not bubble wrap. The sounds are too long, it’s like someone blowing a bubble with gum and then it pops. The sound echoes in the empty hallways so you settle for counting the pops until you can’t hear anymore; one, two, three… seventy two… ninety five… one hundred and sixteen. The pops eventually faded and after the last one you opened your eyes. Your office the way you left it, except for one detail. A peach envelope.

There, in the middle of your clean desk lay a nightmare and all you could do was stare at it. Frozen. Your door was locked. You double checked. You always double check because of all the medications in it. Your door was locked and your window doesn’t even open, the key to it being lost forever ago. Your door was locked, how was this envelope on your desk. What else had this person done? Where else had they been? How? Where? When? Who?

The questions swirling around your head left your heart rate climbing and your hands shaking. You could barely open the envelope because of the shaking. As you tore it open you took another moment, in and out. Breathe in, breathe out. Getting a hold of yourself before you read it. As the shakes slowed you could make out the typed writing;

My Dearest Heart,

I hope you had a pleasant rest. Mine was wonderful, dreaming of you. I hope that pleasant dreams were the reason you missed breakfast and not anything nasty. You looked so worn down when I saw you in his office, I do hope he isn’t making your life difficult. Oh My Heart, I hope you know that I would do anything for you. I would damn the world if it was what you wanted from me. I’ve left you some presents in your drawer, hopefully this time that dreadful fox doesn’t steal them. I can’t have My Heart going hungry after all.

With all my love,

Your Soul

Retching you lunged for your bin, throwing up what little you had eaten that morning. They had been following you. You knew they were watching but they had followed you this morning and you hadn’t seen them. What good was a soldier who isn’t aware of their surroundings? How could you have missed them? The halls were empty, they should have been obvious but they weren’t. Unless they weren’t physically following you? Could they be watching from the cameras? Could the be using other people to follow you? You were all trained military personnel, there were hundreds of ways to follow a target, you knew that. They could be anywhere. You might have never even seen them in person.

~~~~~

The letter burned a hole in your combat pockets until you could make it back to your room after lunch. You had to constantly remind yourself not to reach to check it was still there and hadn’t fallen out. Lunch was quiet, with the Lieutenant still drowning in paperwork and Soap running a demolitions class for recruits it was just you and Gaz. Until he had to run before he was late for a meeting and it was just you, alone at your table in the noisy mess hall, picking at your food until you deemed you’d spent an appropriate amount of time being seen by people.

Walking back to your room, your legs felt like lead. Like they were getting heavier with each step. You took the longer route back, sticking to hallways that were always populated, saluting where necessary and saying hello to other people just to prolong your pain. You didn’t want to go back to your room. It’s peace had been ruined. You didn’t want to go back to your office, it too being soiled.

Your feet kept you along the familiar paths, pulling you closer with each step as your mind wandered. Lists of people. Theories about how. Questions about why. With your head buzzing with paranoia and questions, you didn’t even notice when your feet stopped outside a door and your hand had already knocked,

“Enter.” The gruff voice called out through the wood. Breathe in, breathe out. The questions in your head stopped abruptly as you opened the door and stepped through, the click of it echoing in the room. Breathe in, breathe out. Looking at him across the room, the one person you feel certain your stalker can’t be, one last big breath in and out,

“Lieutenant Riley? I need your help sir.” Your voice shakes, your whole body tensing, as if preparing for a fight as your hand reaches into your pocket and pulls out the envelope. He stands slowly, reaching out for the letter as he assesses you, he watches as your body collapses the second the paper leaves your hand.

#bluespoonswriting #octo!könig #call of duty fanfic #call of duty x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #cod fanfic

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princesachicana · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐭.𝟑 (conrad fisher x reader)

description: a doctors visit, mood swings and a realization.

a/n: you are adopted in this fic! anyone could read!

𝐩𝐭.𝟏 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

The smell of the sanitized doctor’s office makes you want to puke. Or maybe that’s just your nerves? This appointment was so last minute it was hard getting a time in. Thankfully they just hired a new doctor that specializes in obgyn practices. “I’m so nervous.” You admit after a long moment of silence. Conrad squeezes your hand into his palm. “So am i.” He mumbles turning his head towards you, looking concerned. You lean towards him leaving a chaste kiss onto his cheek to calm his nerves. The smile he gives you after makes your heart smile.

Looking around the waiting room you notice the vary of different patients. Some regular patients getting check-ups, Some here to see the pediatrician with their children. And the couples who are visibly here also for the OBGYN. They are obviously far more into their pregnancy than you are that’s for certain. They all have this look of happiness and joy, excited for the new addition to their families. And you can’t help but think will you and Conrad ever be like that?

This pregnancy hasn’t brought much excitement. The only feelings it’s brought so far are anxiety, fear and disappointment. Seeing the disappointment on your families faces cut deep. You know for sure it hurt Conrad as well. Steven still refuses to talk to the both of you after the whole reveal a week ago. You cried into Conrad’s arms just last night, you couldn’t help but think Steven hated you again. Just like he did when you both were younger. He was once again making you feel like the unwanted adoptive sister.

“Y/n Conklin?” The back door opened revealing a nurse with beach blonde hair, she held a clipboard in her hand reading off your name. Conrad was the first to stand up. He immediately noticed your apprehension and held out his hand towards you. “I got you” he whispers voice full of tenderness. You accept his hand with a hesitant smile standing up a little to quickly you feel dizzy. Just this morning you were extremely sick. This morning sickness would really be the death of you. But at the same time having Conrad there rubbing your back somewhat made it worth it.

Once you and Conrad both made it to the back of the doctors office the nurse instructed you to follow her. “Okay so I have you down for the OB right?” She smiles looking back at you and Conrad as she rounds a corner. “Uhh…yeah..yes” You answered almost unsure. Damn your mom. Laurel thought that it was a good idea sending both you and Conrad inside alone. You were always used to having your mom at doctors appointments no matter what. Susannah also agreed that it would be a good first step at being independent.

“Okay I’m just gonna have you step onto the scale, first it’s just easy stuff like getting your vitals.” The nurse assured you with a comforting smile. You nodded your head mumbling an “okay” you passed your purse to Conrad to hold as you stepped onto the scale. “Do we know how far along you are into your pregnancy?” The nurse started typing down notes in her i pad. “I’d probably say like a month? six weeks?” You answered, fingers nervously playing with the chipped nail polish. She nodded telling you to sit beside her in the chair, where she would check your blood pressure.

“I know this whole thing is nerve wracking but…I promise everything is going to work out.” It was silent for a moment as the machine squeezed your arm. This was always your least favorite part about going to the doctors. You’ve never been good at staying still and you felt if you moved you would ruin the results. You took a deep breath glancing at Conrad. “She’s right everything’s gonna be okay.” Conrad leaned down placing a kiss onto your forehead. Oh gosh now you were smiling like a little school girl. You and Conrad weren’t “officially” together or dating yet.

Although it was known to pretty much everyone by now that you were only interested in each other. The lines of your relationship were running very thin, especially now. Here you were pregnant with his baby, you slept in each other’s arms almost every night. Your hands lingered on each other’s body longer than usual. And most importantly you were both head over heels for the other, yet you still haven’t had the whole boyfriend-girlfriend conversation. Your thoughts are interrupted by Conrad taking your hand into his. Once again following the nurse who walked down the narrow hallway.

This doctor was so mean. That’s what you gathered so far. This was definitely the last time you were gonna be seeing her. You didn’t care if you would have to put up a fight with your mom! You would be getting a new doctor as soon as possible. The judgmental looks and snide remarks she was making hurt. Conrad was just as frustrated and angry about the whole situation. This doctor even went as far as saying she’d “move to South America if you were my daughter.” You know that saying “You never really know how it feels until your in their shoes” that was becoming your reality.

Back home you’ve gone to school with a few girls who fell pregnant also. You would take notice of how badly the school treated them. The disapproval evident on all the teachers faces as the girls passed by in the hall way, their bumps being somewhat hidden under sweatshirts and jackets. The name calling from fellow students, the babies fathers acting as if they didn’t care about their girlfriends or even the baby she was carrying.

You of course were never one of the ones who’ve judged young teen moms, in fact you had become somewhat friends with some of them. Alicia had been one of those girls. It was in gym where you first met her, it was dodgeball day and you didn’t want to participate because you were on your period. Your coach was a guy so he waved you off when you first told him that you wanted to sit out due to “lady problems.” She had been peppy, speaking to you first one of the most friendliest person you’ve ever came in contact with. You both secretly shared a bag of sour patch kids (her craving) while the others played dodgeball.

She opened up to you about how everyone treated her differently now that she was pregnant. How her boyfriend didn’t want anything to do with her or his unborn child. How her parents were forcing her out the house immediately after the baby was born. Or how the school kicked her off the debate team because “a pregnant girl” didn’t fit their standards.

And as you sit there in the doctors office blinking back tears. Just from some ugly looks and nasty remarks from a doctor you know this is just the beginning.

“You really put this little blob thing inside me!” You held the ultrasound in disbelief. “No, we put that little blob thing inside you.” Conrad leaned in from his side of the couch. “In fact, if I remember it clearly you were more than willing to help.” Your breath hitched when he gripped your hips lifting you up so you were seated on his lap. “Well you were pretty persuasive!” You giggled shifting a little on his lap. This causes Conrad to groan mumbling a little “fuck.” You were aware of his current predicament at the moment, he had a boner. “You’re such a guy.” You leaned in pecking him on the cheek. “And you’re a tease what are we in fifth grade? give me a real kiss.”

Conrad kisses you, and the moment his lips are against yours you melt. Intoxicating, that’s one word to describe how kissing Conrad felt. It’s almost as if he was pouring all of his love and care for you into it every time. You moved your hips in rhythm with y’all’s heavy breathing, if there was one thing that’s changed with this pregnancy it was your sex drive. You wanted it every damn day no matter where or what time it was. “If you keep moving like that…you’re going to get yourself fucked on my mom’s couch.” He mumbled against your lips. “I think I’d actually like-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because the front door was swinging open.

You frantically moved off ofConrad’s lap adjusting your clothes that Conrad rumpled due to him exploring your body with his hands. “I’ve been trying to call you!” Your mom walked into the beach house with a worried expression on her face. “I’m sorry my phones dead and we just got back.” You quickly answered with a hesitant smile. “Oh, well I just wanted to ask you how was the appointment.” You dramatically stood up “It was horrible mom I need a new doctor, she was disrespectful right Conrad?” You turned to him. He nodded his head almost comically, you noticed a pillow over his crotch and immediately knew why he couldn’t answer with words.

“She was extremely judgmental! made me feel so uncomfortable.” You turned your attention back towards your mother. “What she say?” You continue on a full on rant about how this doctor trip was a disaster. You tell her about the looks you got, the little comments made about you and Conrad being young. “The nurse was nice though.” Conrad spoke for the first time in a couple of minutes. The painful boner you’d given him now thankfully gone. “Thank you Conrad, for seeing the positive side of something.” Your mom smiled fondly at him.

You could feel the annoyance brewing right at the pit of your belly. These past few weeks any little thing made you annoyed and irritated. So with a huff you walked right out the room muttering a “whatever.” You hated when people went against you, well Conrad didn’t exactly “go against you.” but you were sorta hoping he’d back you up with this. Both Conrad and your mom flinched when they heard your bedroom door slam. “You ready for nine months of that?” Laurel let out a little laugh.

Conrad nodded his head “She cried today because I forgot her tater tots.” Conrad had made an effort not to laugh in front of you earlier. It was as if it was the end of the world when you realized your tater tots weren’t in the fast food bag. “Pregnant women don’t play about their food conrad!” Laurel defend her daughter as she silently laughed. “I made it up to her i promise” Conrad whispered. “Was the doctor really that bad?” Laurel asked after a moment. “Oh definitely” Laurel sighed loudly “I’ll find her another one. her reviews were good online!” Conrad forced a little smile “I don’t think those were teen parents though.” Conrad stood up “I think i should go talk to her.” Laurel nodded “Maybe take her some Oreos?”

“Good idea!”

The sound of the door opening makes you snuggle even deeper into the covers. “I come in peace with Oreos!” Conrad’s chuckle makes you smile. If there’s one thing you can count on through this pregnancy it’s Conrad. He’s helped with the morning sickness, the back pain, he didn’t take your mood swings personal. Conrad Fisher was the partner every pregnant girl needed.

“Are they double stuffed?” You immediately sat up in bed. “Of course love.” Conrad takes a seat next to you placing a gentle kiss onto your lips. “Don’t look so sad, your moms getting you a new doctor.” Your eyes start to water and you let out a groan. “Thank goodness, and I hate that I’m crying!” You take a deep breath as Conrad wraps his arms around you. “It feels like I can’t even control my emotions It scares me!”

“And now my brother hates me!” It hurts even saying those words but you know it’s true. “He doesn’t, he hates me.” Conrad whispers thinking back onto his fight with your brother. “He won’t even look at me, I just miss my brother!” You sniffle, burying your face into Conrad’s neck.

And at that moment Conrad’s determined to make shit right with Your brother. Whether Steven likes it or not.

Tags: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tessastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy @drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader #x reader #jeremiah fisher #conrad fisher #tsitp fanfic #tsitp #steven conklin imagine #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher x female!reader #x pregnant reader

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stoneagedevil · 1 year

Text

Always | Hannibal Lecter x f!reader

TWs: Slight mentions of cannibalism, homicide, serial killers, etc.

—————

The waiting room to the luxurious office was quiet, save for muffled conversation between two people she’s never met, one she was referred to as a condition to returning to one of her loves - investigating with the FBI as part of the Homicide Division. Y/N had grown to resent Jack Crawford for his overbearing nature, and his constant need to have things go his way.

She straightened herself at the thought of the man, her cold exterior revealing nothing.

The door suddenly clicked open, and her eyes darting towards a hand grasping the knob. Attached to the hand was a handsome older man wearing a three piece suit, his patient passing by muttering.

“We can expand on that lasting thought at your next appointment, have a good day.” He said. His voice was accented. He then turned his gaze to a woman sitting on his leather sofa in the waiting room. “Miss L/N?”

“Correct.” She affirmed, standing and reaching out her hand to shake his.

“I’m Doctor Hannibal Lecter, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Jack Crawford briefed me on a bit of a compromise between the two of you.” He took her invitation to shake her hand, noting how small it was in his.

“Compromise is putting it lightly,” she said dully, “he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.” She furrowed her eyebrows to emphasize her distaste for her superior. She even despised referring to him as above her.

He chuckled in amusement, “Yes, I understand. I work closely with him and another one of his colleagues, why don’t you come in?” He gestured inside the office, and she was met with the sight of more leather furniture, a wall of books, and many (presumably) expensive decorative pieces.

“Will Graham.” She stated, as she took a seat furthest away from Hannibal. He noted this too.

“Yes, Will Graham. Do you hold contempt for him as well?” He asked rather straightforwardly, taking a seat opposite her, and flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. A clean slate.

This was the part she hated. Sooner down the road she’d wish she said nothing at all. All the notes regarding her could be burned easily, but it was the notes encapsulated within the confines of the mind that was hardest to get rid of. However, she was nothing if not determined.

“Perhaps. I haven’t figured it out yet. He’s odd, but Crawford wants to keep him. I’m the same way, but was found easiest to let go.” She kept eye contact the entire time, Hannibal breaking it only to write about her in his notebook. “I hate that.”

“That you were easiest to let go of?” Hannibal asked while looking up, he presumed the answer would’ve been yes, but he was surprised when he was met with confrontation.

“The writing in the notebook thing. What happens when you die and someone else has everyone’s weaknesses in their hands?”

Hannibal sat back, setting his pen down onto the paper and clasping his hands over it. “Would you prefer I refrain from my note-taking?”

“You could write everything we discussed down after I leave, so I don’t think it matters much. I just need you to know that I hate it.” She shrugged, crossing her legs.

“Do you feel that I have ill intentions in regards to what information you give me?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But a time will come when I know. For now, let’s continue with this appointment.” She gestured to the pen and paper resting on his lap, and he took hold of the pen once more. Now everything was back as it had been.

“As I said before, Jack Crawford said that our meetings were a condition to be let back into the Homicide Division. Would you feel comfortable on elaborating on that further?” He lifted his leg to rest an ankle on his knee, once again sitting back in a non-threatening manner. Open, but not inappropriately so.

“I left because he didn’t see a use for me. Continued with another passion, but I’d gotten bored of it. Now I want back in, and Crawford obviously has his reservations towards me.” She explained briefly.

“Why didn’t he see a use for you?”

“Will Graham was the newest puppy to keep chained at his feet. He’s more digestible than I. My standoffish demeanor did me no favors in addition to that.” He jotted that down. It was his strong belief that she did harbor a sense of rage towards Will, and if he were being honest with himself, it delighted him to see such anger expressed so eloquently. She was aware of herself. He could appreciate that.

“And what was this ‘other passion?’” He asked.

“I’m an artist. I draw, I write, I paint.”

“How impressive. Are you in a creative block at the moment?” He wondered if the creative block was something she saw to be moved by her other occupation.

“Thank you, but no. I’m bored in the sense that I just need something new, but familiar. Being a part of the Homicide Division is the only thing I want to do besides painting from time to time.”

“And why is your heart set on that? Especially given Crawford’s apprehension toward letting you back in.”

“Simple. It’s exhilarating.” She smiled.

He raised his eyebrows, “Exhilarating how?”

“Do you want to digestible answer, or the truth?” She replied.

“Why not both? We have plenty of time left.”

“Digestible first then. I live and breathe bringing monsters to justice, and consoling families of lost loved ones through the closure of a killer’s sentencing.” She tilted her head.

“And the truth?”

“The truth is - I don’t particularly care about most of the people who are murdered. Children, of course, but if you look deep enough you’ll see that most of the cadavers I spend my time with had it coming.” This. This is what increased his interest tenfold.

“You don’t care if the rude die?”

“Rude would be - once again, putting it mildly. But no. I don’t. Does that make me a bad person? Probably. But I’m perfectly fine with that. I’m not going to act like I care about arresting someone who’s killed a predator.” He smiled at her monologue.

“Yes, I understand your point. But what about the few that are innocent?”

“Innocent or guilty, they’re still a mess for me to analytically dissect and trace from to whoever killed them. There was a time where I was bored with this job too. Another reason why I left in addition to Will Graham.” She stared indifferently. He wanted her to crack in some way. Uncover the ruthlessness he knew she harbored deep inside.

“And why were you bored?”

“The murders at the time. They weren’t- how do I word this? They weren’t dynamic and intentive. It was all too ‘heat of the moment.’ Not-“

“Artistic?”

“Yes. Lifeless, ironically.” She smiled once again, “There were a few serial killers I’d been on the team for, and I do believe that for them- this breed of human who enjoys killing, that they view killing almost as a hobby. And what do you do when you have a hobby? You perfect the skills it takes to do it and the impression it leaves on others. You take pride in it. I see no pride. I see, ‘I need to become the most prolific serial killer in the States, and to do that, I’ll kill anyone I lay my eyes on.’ It’s sloppy.”

His heart raced at her words. Those beautiful words falling from her beautiful lips.

“And what makes a good serial killer?” He breathed.

“I think you already know, Hannibal.” She raised her eyebrows and him and smiled knowingly. “Your secret is safe with me, of course. I couldn’t dream of stopping an artist in his tracks.” Despite being taken aback slightly, he was drawn in due to her earnest nature regarding his craft.

“You’re the other one, aren’t you? The Minnesota Shrew?”

“Our reputations precede us then, Ripper. I look forward to looking more at your work. If you’ll have me.”

Hannibal unknowingly untensed his shoulders at this. He could smell dishonesty from a mile away, when there was none to be found.

“It would be an honor.” He replied, as she stood and headed for the door.

“Hannibal, you don’t let them go to waste, do you?” She turned, sharp eyes looking back at him.

“They’re prepared meticulously, my dear.” He answered softly. Within the short time he spoke to this woman, he’d felt the ugliest parts of him had been scrubbed clean, that his soul had bonded to another of its beautifully terrible nature.

“Then I think I’d love a taste, if you’re willing.” A warm smile lit up the room, painted in deep red.

“Always.”

——————

Thank you to those who’ve read my last post, I sincerely appreciate your support. Let me know if you’d like more from me.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #nbc hannibal #will graham #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #hannibal x you #slashers #slasher x reader

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kiddbegins · 6 months

Text

I’d Do It Again - Will Halstead

Requested: yes

Word count: 987

Warnings: gun violence, shooting but not like detailed, hospital stuff ofc

A/n: apologies if this sucks idk how I feel

Masterlist

“You jumped in front of a bullet!” “And I’d do it again.”

Nobody said that Will Halstead was good at thinking before he acted. No, really. Not one person that you or that red head knew would even think of saying that about him. He quite literally was always doing things impulsively that either got him hurt or in trouble.

You were used to that. Truly, you’d known the man for about five years now, been with him for three so you knew all too well that he sometimes just, didn’t have control over himself.

Or rather the control over himself wasn’t always that of someone with common sense. Nobody with common sense would jump in front of a bullet. That’s just not how that works.

But Will was someone so easily blinded by love that he didn’t care. When the guy put the hospital on lockdown, pulling a gun on one of the nurses and doctors, Will’s first thought was making sure you were okay.

Of course that meant pulling the man’s attention from you when his gun had been pointed in your direction, which didn’t work, he was ready to do it. His anger was at the people that didn’t save his girlfriend.

Apparently he knew exactly who that was. And you were one of them. That alone worried Will, and made him jump right in front of you as the gunman shot off, shoving you down and out of the way.

“Will-” You stayed low, the doctor hitting the floor with blood now coming out of a hole in his abdomen. “What is wrong with you..” Quickly you pressed your hand over the wound, slightly lifting to see if it went through. It didn’t.

He groaned faintly as you did what you could with what you had. Which wasn’t much but it was enough to last until things were cleared up. Intelligence took things over and got the man down not too long after, and the second he was clear, you went to call out for Connor but he was one step ahead of you.

“Watch out.” He tried to push you out of the way, your hands still planted on Will’s side. “Hey, listen to me. Y/n.” You looked at him, tears in your eyes. “I got him.” Connor did the best he could to reassure you.

Your face scrunched up, having to force yourself up and out of the way so the surgeon could lift the other doctor up and onto a gurney. He was rolled to the OR, you hot on the tail until you were stopped and sent out to the waiting room.

It was insane that you couldn’t even look over what was happening, nobody wanting you to be there if something happened. Which was probably good because if you had been in the viewing area when he first flatlined you probably would have yourself seconds after.

But they got him back and before long he was simply unconscious in a lone hospital room, you sitting next to him with your hand tightly clasped onto his. “You better wake up soon Will Halstead because I have a few choice words for you,” You half jokingly said to the man in the hospital bed.

“I hope it’s I love you,” His voice muttered back, eyes opening seconds later as you sighed. How could you be angry at him over something like that.

“I do love you. But god you’re so stupid.” Gently you brought his hand up to your lips, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” You faintly chuckled, an attempt to keep from crying.

He could have died. And it seemed like he didn’t care. “Nothings wrong with me. I did what I had to do.” Will have you the softest smile he could muster, trying to shift up.

“You jumped in front of a bullet.” You countered, raising an eyebrow before grabbing the controller for the bed and lifting the back of it so he was sitting.

Will shrugged faintly, catching your gaze. “And I’d do it again. And again. And again. If it meant that you were safe.” He spoke firmly, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no way he could bear to live a life without you in it.

Aside from Jay you were all he had. Will halstead cherished you as if you were a prized antique. He needed you. “Well I’d prefer it if you did that while also being safe. You almost died. Baby, you did. You flatlined on that table and if you hadn’t come back I-“

“But I did.”

“But you almost didn’t. That’s my point. Will I love you, and sure, it’s very chivalrous of you to get hurt in my honor or whatever. But you almost die like that again I’ll kill you myself.” Both of you let out a soft chuckle.

Just slightly you shook your head, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his temple. “Promise you won’t do something dumb like that again. Seriously.”

“Best I can give you is an ‘I’ll tryz’”

Swiftly you rolled your eyes, “Fine, I’ll take it. You are so lucky I love you.” You grumbled, shaking your head again.

“Oh yeah lucky me, could you do me a favor?” Will smiled softly at you, obviously something up his sleeve as you nodded, “My lips feel a little tingly, probably from the anesthetic wearing off but uh, could you kiss them? See if it makes me feel better?”

The grin that spread on his face made you laugh faintly, “Oh Dr. Halstead I think that’s a very serious question, let’s see.” You leaned forward, kissing him just lightly. “How’s that?”

The red head shook his head, “Mm, still a bit tingly, try again?” Once more you kissed him, chuckling when it brought a hand up to the back of your head. “There we go. Much better.”

“Happy to help.”

JOIN WILL'S TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @everything-fandom, @thebejeweledwatercat, @mrspeacem1nusone, @wnbweasley, @alexxavicry, @halsteadbrasil, @firetruckstuckley, @lilithblade, @angelicbxtchthea

#will halstead #will halstead x reader #will halstead writing?#chicago med #chicagomed #chicago med fanfic #fanfiction #one chicago fanfiction #will halstead imagine #will halstead oneshot #one chicago x reader #teddy writes #teddy writes will halstead #teddy writes chicago med #teddy writes one chicago

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

Text

Hidden Truths (Alex Blake x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You and Alex aim to keep things professional at work

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of jealousy

You sat with your chin in your palm, finger running over the wood of the table. Sitting in the back corner was always the right choice, giving you the chance to watch without being observed. Except for the sparkling brown eyes of the only person who could see you.

You pressed your lips together, doing your best to not let the smile threatening to bloom out in full force. Alex spun, writing on the white board and you gave yourself a moment to let your eyes wander over her. She was wearing the trousers that always made your head a little fuzzy. You tilted your head, following the line of her hips until she turned to survey the room again.

Her eyes caught on you for a moment before flitting away again, calling on one of the students with their hand raised. Fingers tipped with intrigue pushed her hair away from her eyes, and you let yourself look at her, long enough to find her glancing up towards you again. There was a curve to the corner of her mouth that spoke of her amusement and you couldn’t help your own lips curling up in an answering smile.

The rest of the class, the final ten minutes, passed without her looking in your direction again. You knew why, the temptation you posed there for her. It was one of the reasons you loved sitting in on her classes, only occasionally letting yourself indulge in the luxury of it.

You’d made it clear to her how much you enjoyed watching her teach.

She dismissed the class and you waited a few extra seconds before rising to your feet. Placing a hand in your pocket, you sauntered down the steps, eyes trained on her as she packed up her bag. You were so focused on her you almost ran straight into a student. Catching yourself on the bench beside you, you realised the boy in front of you was familiar.

“Professor, I didn’t know you had anything to do with linguistics,” he said, offering you an interested smile.

“I don’t,” you laughed, “just thought it would be fun to do a drive by pop in.”

“Oh, you know Doctor Blake?” he asked, looking a lot more interested now.

“I’d hope so,” you replied, “otherwise the conversation I was hoping to have with her is going to be very awkward.”

“You were hoping to have a conversation with me?”

Alex had paused at the bottom of the stairs, bag slung over her shoulder. You could still see that sparkle in her eye, the amusement loud and clear to you. You rolled your eyes, but there was still a smile on your face.

“I was,” you replied.

“And you couldn’t just text?” she asked.

“Well, I wanted an answer before four, and I know you so…” You lent closer to the student, “she never answers me.”

“You’re going to give me a bad reputation,” she laughed.

“An accurate reputation,” you shot back, “I swear she does it because she knows it annoys me.”

The student was looking between the two of you, an almost bemused smile on his face, like he couldn’t believe this was a conversation he was witnessing. You patted his shoulder.

“What do you think of Doctor Blake?” you asked, “good professor?”

“Yeah she’s… she’s brilliant,” he replied, after shooting her a quick look. You were unclear if the look was due to feeling uncomfortable about being asked about her in front of her, or if it was because he had stars in his eyes for her.

“Mind like no other,” you said, nodding your head in agreement.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough,” she said but you could see her fighting a smile.

“Good luck with next week’s reading, George,” you said to the student, “I hear it’s a doozy.”

The two of you watched him leave the room, Alex’s hand inching towards you like a game of chicken. You caught it, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. Her eyes softened when she finally looked to you.

“You wanted to have a conversation with me,” she prompted.

“Well, less of a conversation although tongues will definitely be involved,” you replied.

Her gaze darkened, flicking down to your lips then back up.

“We’re at work,” she said.

“That was your last class of the day,” you said, “and unless I’ve missed something you have nowhere important to be.”

“What are you suggesting?” She tugged you forward by your joined hands.

“That we cut out early for the weekend and do something far more enjoyable than dealing with students,” you said.

“This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to come watch my lectures,” she said, a knowing smile gracing her features.

“I can’t resist,” you replied, “you have no idea how hot it is when you’re up there teaching. You’re so fucking sexy, Alex.”

“And I don’t think you know how intoxicating it is to be watched by you,” she said.

Her free hand came up, cupping your cheek. She pulled you closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You allowed her one moment of hesitation before closing the gap. The way she kissed was familiar, but it never failed to steal your breath. You pressed yourself against her, feeling no better than one of the students you spent all day with.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she mumbled against your lips, “let’s at least pretend to have some self control.”

“Self control?” you asked when she drew back, “what’s that?”

You loved her throaty chuckle, coming from deep in her chest. It was the sound of heaven if there was one, letting you know you’d done something right. She only did that when she was completely amused with you, and planned on showing you how much she liked that.

She pulled on your joined hands until you were following her to the door. The sunlight hit you just as she let you go, remembering at the last second that such easy affection was not for the campus. You’d both agreed, keeping your personal life from the workplace was the best course of action, if only to keep the respect of your colleagues and students. Over the years it had turned into a bit of a game to see if anyone could figure it out. It helped that you’d both kept your names.

Her car was parked by her office, while yours was on the other end of campus, near yours. The two of you split, but not before you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, her small smile carrying you through the drive home. Three years married and you still couldn’t get over how lucky you were.

When you entered the house, she was standing in the kitchen, already pouring two glasses of wine. You curled your arms around her waist, pressing your front to her back. She hummed, leaning back against you, tilting her head when your lips found the long column of her neck. You’d been a little obsessed with it the entire time you’d known her.

“We have all weekend, darling,” she said, as you continued to kiss along her neck.

“I know,” you replied, “I’m taking my time to enjoy myself.”

She chuckled, low in her throat, leaning into you as you continued to make your presence known. She’d placed the wine glasses down, hands resting on the counter. The taste of her skin felt like home.

“Are we not even going to make it past the kitchen?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you replied, laughing into the curve of her neck.

“Sometimes I want dessert first,” she sighed as your hands begun to creep underneath her shirt.

“And sometimes I want to be bent over your office desk after watching you lecture,” you replied.

“Only sometimes?” You could hear the smile in her voice.

“Alright, I always want that after seeing you lecture.”

The drag of your fingers up the skin of her stomach, feeling her muscles flutter under your touch. She was pressing her body back against yours, letting you explore. As if you hadn’t mapped every inch of her body already.

“I don’t think you’re the one getting bent over the desk right now,” she said as your fingers found the underside of her bra covered breast.

“Is that what you want, Doctor Blake?” you asked, “to be bent over and fucked real good?”

She spun. Her hands landed on your hips, turning you until she had you pinned against the counter. Her lips hovered above yours, breaths mingling.

“Don’t forget the wine, darling.”

She slid away from you, leaving nothing but air in your arms. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the glasses and the bottle, and following her out of the kitchen.

Monday morning is was easy to slip back into your routine, having taken to the entire weekend to enjoy the company of your wife. You loved saying that. Your wife.

George was in his usual seat in your lecture, turning a light shade of pink each time you looked over. It looked as if the small amount of your life you’d shown to him the week before had influenced him. You weren’t quite sure in what way.

You let them go early, knowing a Monday morning class was always the hardest to get through for the students. It was hard enough getting through as someone who knew the material inside and out.

As you packed away your bag George approached you, looking a little unsure of himself. You smiled, hoping you were coming across as friendly and approachable.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, waving to a group of girls as they left the hall.

“I didn’t know you and Doctor Blake were married,” he said.

“Three years now,” you said, “it’s not common knowledge.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Just personal preference,” you said, “so keep it on the down low, yeah?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Anything for you Doctor Blake,” he said, “and you.”

“Thanks George,” you said.

You parted ways with him at the door, giving him a cheery wave as left. The walk to Alex’s office was nice, shady and green as you crossed campus. You knocked on her door, pushing it open when she called for you to enter.

“Someone has a crush on you,” you singsonged.

“Is it you?” she asked, not looking up as she marked papers.

“Forever and always,” you replied, flinging yourself into one of the chairs across from her desk, “but that’s not who I’m talking about.”

“Who are you talking about?” she asked, still not sounding interested.

“George,” you said, kicking your feet up onto her desk, “he figured out we’re married.”

That got her attention. Absentmindedly, she pushed your feet off her desk as she lent towards you.

“He figured it out?” she asked.

“Which means you owe ten bucks,” you said.

She gave you a fond eye roll, her chuckle quiet. You lent forward, plucking the pen from her fingers, twirling it in your own.

“I did know about his crush,” she said, “he’s one of many.”

“Alright, some modesty would have been nice,” you laughed.

“You have more students with crushes on you,” she replied.

“What? No, I don’t.”

“You definitely do,” she said, “I’ve counted. You’re a hot commodity on this campus, Professor.”

“You must feel pretty lucky then, Doctor Blake,” you replied, turning it into a joke to make yourself feel more comfortable.

“I do. Every single day,” she replied, sounding serious.

“Alright, well, I wasn’t expecting-“ You paused, a thought coming to you, “why have you counted?”

“Hmm?” She looked back down to the papers she still had to grade.

“The students with crushes on me. You said you’ve counted. Why?”

“No particular reason,” she replied, “it’s just good information to have.”

“Are you… Alex?” You waited for her to look up at you again, “are you jealous?”

“What? No.”

“Holy shit, you are.”

“Of course I’m not jealous of some children,” she said, leaning forward to take the pen back, “it’s just good to keep an eye out for the students who might… try to steal you away.”

“Alex.” You handed back the pen, “there is no one capable of stealing me away. I’m your problem forever. We signed a contract. It’s official.”

“Contracts can be broken,” she said, ducking her head.

You rose from your chair, rounding her desk to perch just beside her. With fingers on her chin you tilted her head up until her eyes met yours. You could see the worry swimming in there.

“Not this one,” you replied, “never. You’re stuck with me. Because there is no one else for me out there. Just you.”

“But what if-“ You pressed your index finger to her lips.

“No one,’ you said, “besides, these students are all children.”

She laughed, the breath puffing against the skin of your hand.

“Okay,” she said.

You let forward, replacing your finger with your lips, if only to show her how much she meant to you. Screw the rules. There was no one else for you, but her. And that was all there was to that.

Tags: @trippol-threat @theclassicgaycousin @prentiss-theorem @nightmarish-fae @storiesofsvu @rustyzebra @emsmultiverse

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Father, Son & The Holy Shit // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Father, Son & Artificial Constructs] Bradley hears from his ex, your mother. You’re heading to North Island for the summer. Jake is immediately hooked on the young Bradshaw girl who’s dating his son.

Warning: Jake Seresin x F!Bradshaw Reader. Suggestive themes. Unspecified Age gap. Gaslighting/manipulation. Moral outrage. 18+

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw was a lot of things. He was a great friend, the life of the party. He was a dedicated aviator, decorated in fact. He was a pretty decent piano player and an amateur cook—he could make any dish involving instant ramen look restaurant quality. Soft boiled egg, green onions, little drizzle of sweet soy and all.

But a good father was probably something that from time to time had been rubbed off that list—then written back over with pencil. Then rubbed off again, written again, so forth and so on.

“She wants to spend the summer getting to know her father Bradley.” Claire sighed out in frustration on the other end of the line as Bradley held his phone up to his ear as he showered. He let the stream of scalding hot water cascade down his body—the motion of his other hand that had been wrapped around his length slowed to a begrudged halt as the conversation shifted from hellos and how are yours? To you. “She’s in college now—hell I don’t even think you’ve seen her since she was a freshman in high school.”

Claire Littleton had been the girl Bradley Bradshaw lost his virginity to back when they were just a mere seventeen years old. It was both their first time. They didn’t know what they were doing and they sure as hell thought they were oh so in love. Up until the pregnancy test showed up with the brightest pink positive sign the pair of them had ever seen and neither of them knew what the fuck they were doing. They were both still kids themselves. How could they possibly have a child?

“I’ve just been re-stationed Clarie. I don't think it’s a good idea, I’ve barely unpacked.” Claire knew Bradley was in the shower, she could hear the water running, she could hear the echo in his voice, she could picture the steam radiating from his body as she closed her eyes and willed away the imagery of her daughter's father standing in the shower—naked and tan and toned and— “Hello? Clarie?”

“Sorry, yeah I’m here.” Clarie brought her mind back to reality as she pushed herself up off the desk she was leaning on, sitting behind the computer at the reception desk at the doctor's office she worked at. “Her boyfriend’s apparently spending the summer in North Island interning for some Commander, I think it’s his dad from what I can recall her mentioning.” Clarie explained briefly as she looked around at the empty waiting room—there was still ten minutes till opening.

Bradley chuckled softly to himself as he looked up to the ceiling, son of a bitch. She knew he was in North Island. Claire always kept tabs on where her favourite flightless bird was in the world. It made Bradley feel like at least there was one person roaming the earth that gave a damn. Well—besides Maverick that was.

“You already knew I’d been reposted, didn’t you?” Clarie didn’t answer straight away but Bradley knew she was smiling on the other end of the line—he could see her clear as day in his mind as he closed his eyes, biting her bottom lip trying to hide back a shit eating grin. “Who’s Y/n dating Clarie?”

“He’s nice, his mothers young, think we can relate on that note.” Clarie knew the last name would drive a hot iron into Bradley’s side. They had never been on the best of terms. “And I don’t want you taking it out on the kid because of who his father is alright?” Bradley had told Clarie a million times about a guy of the name Jake Seresin, she knew of her ex’s distaste for the man even before he did what no one ever expected of him and saved Bradley’s life a few years back.

Rooster felt like he had no choice but to play nice nowadays—Hangman had saved his life and for that he was grateful. But it still didn’t mean the guy didn’t have an ego the size of Mt Everest.

Commander Jake Seresin had gotten the band back together. He was Mirimars newest Commander and he knew the exact people he wanted on sight.

Bradley, unfortunately for himself, was one of them.

“Oh god don’t tell me she’s dating Kian Seresin—“ Bradley could have smashed his head against the tiles of his shower. Anyone but that kid. Anyone but a Seresin. Jake was never gonna let Bradley live it down. Couldn’t it have been a Floyd or a Trance or even a fucking Garcia! “No—no fucking way.”

“They’ve been dating for over a year now Roos—“ Clarie was trying to soften the blow the best she could but it was to no avail. She heard the water shut off and sighed. “You’re overreacting, you’re daughter wants to spend time with you over the summer break and you’re—“

“No, she wants to spend time with her boyfriend in North Island and is gonna use me as an excuse to do so.”

“So? At least she wants to see you, Rooster, there’s plenty of dads out there who don’t see their daughters anymore because they grew up and decided the bare minimum wasn’t enough.” Now Claire did have a point, Bradley knew he hadn’t been the most present dad in your life.

But he cared.

“You had over a year to tell me she's dating a Seresin and couldn’t send me a text? An email perhaps, hell I probably would’ve been happy with a messenger pigeon!” Bradley huffed as he stepped out of the shower, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he wrapped a clean towel around his waist. The hard on he’d tried to give some attention to was long gone now. It wasn’t the first time Clarie Littleton had given Bradley blue balls and it probably wasn’t going to be the last. “For the love of god Clarie I don’t even like working with the guy, now you wanna tell me my daughters dating his son?”

Everyone knew Jake had a kid, a son. Kian. Much like Bradley he had him young. The two shared that and their love for the navy in common. They had both been young, dumb and oh so in love. The only difference between the pair was that unlike Bradley and Clarie who both decided amicably that they knew they could both have a successful future apart than together, Jake had married the supposed love of his life the second it was legal.

Bradley and Clarie both did their best to raise you, but there came a point where Bradley had to give up his share of the custody agreement so he could focus on his career.

“Bradley, your daughter will be in town at the end of the week, she either stays with you or she’ll stay with Kian and his dad.” Claire groaned on the other end of the line as she placed her forehead on the countertop. “And she wants to stay with you! So stop worrying about someone else’s son and use what time you’ve been given here to get to know your daughter in her adult life.”

Jake Seresin had married his highschool sweetheart Nacy only three weeks after they both turned eighteen, which was six months after Kian was born. For Jake that was now three failed marriages ago and a handful of divorce settlements later. Bradley had never been more thankful to have someone like Clarie in his life—a support system he could trust no matter what.

And someone to call late at night, you know—for when he was feeling overworked and under fucked.

“Yeah—fine fine.” Bradley conceded as he looked at himself in the mirror, he did his best to be a good dad. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, it was just he thought you were a hell of a lot better off without him. “And for the record I was at her highschool graduation, and I saw her before I came out to North Island two years ago, I’ve got that picture of the three of us hanging in the hall.”

It was Claire’s turn to chuckle, the memory had slipped her mind. Bradley Bradshaw was a good dad, he just wasn’t around that much. He paid his fair share and then some over the years, helped Clarie settle into her new life in San Francisco just after you were three and he allowed her to live a life separate from him. They shared their love for you though, and spent their entire lives pinning for one another. Bradley had always been there for anything and everything you and your mother needed.

But not a lot of people knew Bradley had a daughter, it was just something that Bradley wanted to keep all to himself if he could. Some people knew. Pete, Natasha, Jake. Guess he was in on this and just hadn’t bothered to mention he knew for a whole ass year that his son was dating a Bradshaw. But it wasn’t like Jake and Bradley texted.

“Oh my apologies, step aside for father of the year.” There was always a part of Clarie Littleton that wondered what life would have been life if she had wanted to be the Navy wife. What a life with Bradley could have been like.

“Eat me Claire—“ Bradley wondered too. It was one of the main reasons he never really settled down with anyone else. He tried, lord knows he did. But he felt a guilt inside his soul that if he was gonna settle down with anyone it was gonna be with Clarie. It would be a disservice to you and your mother if he found love anywhere else. He had all the love he needed.

It was just unconventional.

“I’m sure you’d love that Bradshaw.” Clarie replied as she sat up in her chair. “Listen I gotta go, but you should call her, plan ahead and let her know you want her there—she’s not a kid anymore, but she’ll always be your baby girl.” Claire never hesitated to keep Bradley in-line and he always listened—always. Phoenix was convinced if Clarie called Rooster tomorrow and said she loved him he’d marry her on the spot. And he would. “Love you Bradshaw, take care of yourself.”

“Yeah love you too—“ Bradley heard the dial tone ring in his ear before he had a chance to finish his sentence. So he left it at that and placed his phone down on the vanity. “More than you think you know Littleton.”

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

“All I’m saying is good and bad, right and wrong are just artificial constructs designed by society to kinda keep everyone in check.” Kian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as turned down the street you’d told him to turn. Your dad had given you his new address at the beginning of the week after he called. You knew your mum put him up to it, but you knew he had some of his own intention behind it. “And then you add religious beliefs into the mix and suddenly it’s on for young and old.”

“All religion is just a foolish answer to a foolish question—“ You repeated before your boyfriend could, you’d heard him say it a million times. “I think it’s this one, pull up baby.” Kian was a man of science, not a man of faith by any means. He was a man of the mind, not of the body and soul.

You knew it was your father’s home simply because of the Blue Bronco sitting in the drive. He loved that thing almost as much as your mum loved her rock climbing. You had vivid memories of beach days and sandy floor mats whenever you saw the damn thing. The butterflies in your stomach only fluttered with anticipation as Kian turned into the drive and parked behind the tried and true mode of transportation Bradley Bradshaw swore by.

“Is that dear old pops sitting on the porch?” Kian chuckled as he parked the car, you were out of the car in seconds as Bradley stood from where he’d been perched waiting for your imminent arrival.

“Hi stranger!” You beamed as you made your way over. Bradley chuckled as he placed a hand over his heart and faked weak in the knees. “Still got that stupendous mustache I see?” Bradley faked a shot to the heart.m as he laughed.

“You mother didn’t mention you got so big—“ He took you in for a warm embrace as he spun you around and picked you up off your feet. “Far out kid what’s it been? Two? Three years?”

“Uh yeah something like that, right before you reposted out here for that detachment.” You replied as your dad placed you back down. Kian cleared his throat softly as he rounded the car, not wanting to interrupt the moment. You smiled at your boyfriend then back at your dad. “Dad, this is Kian Seresin, my boyfriend.”

“I remember—“ Bradley smiled as he shook Kians hand. “Yeah you were probably like four the last time I saw you man, on your mum's hip at one of our first Naval Galas.”

“It’s good to finally meet you sir.” Kian shook your fathers hand with a smile that couldn’t be faked or forced, he was delighted in every aspect to meet the man the myth that was your father Bradley Bradshaw—Although he’d met him in his less than formative years. “Claire and Y/n have mentioned nothing but the best.”

“That’s a damn lie son, don’t I know it.” Bradley chuckled as he pulled his hand back and tapped Kian a few times on the shoulder. “Come on, I promised your dad we’d meet up at the Hard Deck for dinner, so get your stuff settled and we’ll head over.” It was self flagellation really, Rooster didn’t have any intention of playing happy family with Jake, but you looked happy and Bradley didn’t want anything to come between you and the happiness you deserved.

“Uh what’s the Hard Deck?” You asked as you walked with Kian back around to the trunk, watching as he and your dad grabbed your bags and walked back up to the house. The home that Kian would spend the first night with you in. Your dads place, before you'd stay the night at his dads.

“It’s a bar.” Kian and your dad both said in unison. Turns out Kian and his father had a closer relationship than you did with yours. You and Bradley spoke often enough—Kain and Jake spoke almost every other day.

“Oh, well alright then, I’m pretty pumped to meet your dad.” You trailed behind Kian. He stopped in his tracks to place a gentle kiss to your cheek. “We can play the who’s dads more of a deadbeat than the other.” Bradley looked at you as if you’d stabbed him in the heart, was he a good dad? Probably not but he sure wasn’t a deadbeat.

“Uh, hands down mine.” Kian chuckled. Bradley raised an all knowing eyebrow. He sure wasn’t wrong. “But you’re free to make your own judge of character.”

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

Jake Seresin was a lot of things. He’d been told from a few different sources that he was a bit of a prick, a scumbag—an overachiever who’d step over anyone and do anything in his power to be the best. He was a loyalist to the game that was the US Naval hierarchy and all he ever wanted was to be at the top of the pyramid.

“This really pains you, doesn’t it Bradshaw?” But there was something Jake Seresin wasn't all that good at. He was a damn good aviator and he on occasion could understand the concept of what the definition of a team was. But Jake wasn’t a good father and worse off, he wasn’t a good husband.

“More than you could possibly imagine Seresin—“ Bradley bit his tongue as he shook Jake's hand in a friendly gesture of gratitude. Despite their differences the two were amicable on a good day. The Hard Deck hadn’t changed in the two years that had passed since Bradley and Jake flew together on the Uranium mission that saw Jake's career skyrocket into the stratosphere. Hell Bradley was still a lieutenant to Jake’s Commander ranking.

“Ah, but isn't young love a virtue.” Jake chuckled as he let go of Roosters hand. The pair had only been back in North Island for roughly a week and a bit before their respective spawn were chewing at their heels.

“Not when a Seresins involved, that’s for sure.” Bradley mumbled under his breath, but sure enough Jake heard the jab. With three failed marriages, a slu of settlements and a child he treated more like a friend than a son, Jake Seresin knew nothing of love. He wasn’t capable of it. He’d burnt his first marriage down just for the fun of it and he’d built two more back up just to watch it all fall apart again. All three times, Jake had been at fault.

But he’d never claimed to be a good man—so the thought of the broken hearts club that cried themselves to sleep that he had coincidentally formed, didn’t really keep him up at night.

“Kian, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” Jake smiled as he finally turned his attention to you as you stood with your arm wrapped around Kains. “I’ve heard far too much about this beautiful young woman for her to still be a stranger.” The pair of you had been waiting for Jake and Bradley to greet each other.

“Dad this is Y/n Bradshaw, Y/n this is my dad, Commander Jake Seresin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled politely as you reached out to shake your boyfriend's dads hand. His eyes roamed your body like you had something he desired and for a moment you felt like you’d been put on display at some art exhibition. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things I hope?” Jake sent you that signature smirk Kian had. It was a Seresin staple apparently. “How’s mother hen doing these days? Clarie? Isn’t it Rooster?”

Jake could feel Rooster burning a hole into the side of his shit eating smile at the mere mention of your mother. Bradley had only told Jake about you and about Clarie, your mother, after the egotistical jerk saved his life. It was a can of worms he wished he never cracked open.

“She’s good! Yeah her art is really starting to take off now!” You beamed as you looked at your dad who just had this light in his eye as you spoke about your mother. “She’s doing really well for herself, I keep telling her that she needs to quit that stupid doctors receptionist gig she’s got and just focus on her painting but she won’t. Doesn’t believe she could make it on just her talent alone.” You explained to the three men who stood around you.

“I’m gonna grab us all a round of drinks—“ Kian mentioned in the lull of conversation. “Rooster? You want a beer?”

“I’ll get a Canadian Club thanks kid.” Kain nodded, committing the request to memory. Your dad drank Canadian club. Perfect. Noted.

“Dad?”

“Just a budweiser buddy.” Jake said as he drank in the sight of you like he’d been walking in the desert for days without water. “Y/n? Drink of choice?”

“Gin Sour—“ Both Bradley and Kian mentioned at the same time. For an absentee father Bradley Bradshaw still knew his only daughter pretty well. “Come on, tables this way.” Bradley huffed a little under his breath as you turned to follow him.

If you hadn’t been so nervous you probably wouldn’t have noticed, but there was nothing unnoticeable about the way Commander Seresin moved his hand up your back to guide you over to the table. Your heart nearly jumped from your chest at the feeling of his touch.

His hand sat perfectly against the small of your back like he’d done it a hundred times and would continue to do it a thousand more. He made it seem so innocent at first so you didn’t react as you followed your dad. You let him guide you—innocently enough, towards the booth tucked away in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“How about you sit across from dear old dad sweetheart?” Jake suggested as he watched Rooster slide into the booth seat closest to the wall. “That way I can sit across from Kian and can keep an eye on Rooster here.”

“You don’t wanna sit next to me Hangman?” Bradley chuckled as he shook his head. “I’m slightly offended.”

“Can’t help it if your cologne makes me uncomfortable.” Jake played his decisions off like they were barely even thoughts. But unbeknownst to all they were calculated and cunning. Jake still had his hand pressed to the small of your back as you stood near the booth. “Well, slide on in, we don’t have all night now do we kid.”

Jake waited for the right moment, he waited until you were sliding into the booth to trail his hand across the expanse of your lower back down your ass. You kept a straight face as you felt the presence of his hand over the pocket of your jeans, collecting something in the process rather slyly.

You cleared your throat as you fixed yourself up and situated yourself across from your dad. He’d seen nothing, and soon enough Kian was returning with the drinks he’d ordered.

“Some lady at the bar said she’d give me twenty dollars if I told you Rooster was the better pilot.”

“I’ll give you fifty just to shut up.” Jake snapped back without a second of hesitation in his voice. Every person at the table laughed, including yourself. It felt normal. It felt right to finally be meeting your boyfriend’s father—you’d been together for just over a year now and the whole aspect of your distant dads just seemed so untangable. But sitting across from your dad and next to Kians made your heart swell. The normality of it all brought a warm comfort to your soul.

Except you were pretty sure he just copped a feel.

“So what’re you studying Kian?” Bradley asked as he chowed down on his steak and veg. Kian finished his mouthful before answering as he looked over at you. There was something in the way his son looked at you that caught Jake's curiosity.

There was a look of lesser than he didn’t quite like behind his son's eyes. It would’ve gone unnoticed if you didn’t look down at your food to avoid the glare. You twirled your fork around in the pasta you were eating, filling in time as Kian fronted the career path he’d chosen.

The one he liked to practice on you.

“I’m studying Psychology—“ Before Kian could ramble on about what paths he wanted to travel down and what specialty he wanted to work towards Jake cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the napkin before him. He’d heard his son talk about college enough.

“What about you sweetie?” He turned all his attention to you as you sat meekly in the corner, trapped between the wall and your boyfriend's dad. “What’s my hopefully daughter in law planning to be in the near distant future.”

There was something in that tone Jake used when he coined you sweetie: something sinister, something secretive and dangerous.

“Oh when you say it out loud it makes me wanna cry.” Rooster groaned, he still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact he was sitting with Jake and his son at a family dinner. All you did was laugh a little at your dad, he was doing his best to make it through the night. You appreciated the effort. You appreciated him.

“I’m studying exercise physiology.” Through the corner of Jake's eyes he saw Kian roll his slightly at your statement. What was so wrong with that? “I uh—eventually wanna get to a point where I can do a masters in musculoskeletal physiotherapy—help people with neurological pathways that might be blocked, spinal injuries and stuff.” Your mother told you to shoot for the moon and far beyond, Bradley had been the one who paid for your college tuition. Together they were pretty good at supporting you emotionally and financially.

Kian however, well—he didn’t really see physiotherapy as a real solution to a major problem that was the overburdened and understaffed health care system. He didn’t care all that much for allied health.

“Because running track will pay the bills babe—“ Kian chuckled softly to himself as he took another bite of his steak. Bradley frowned, he didn’t like that one bit. Neither did Jake for a matter of fact.

His hand slowly but surely crept up your thigh under the table. He took a sip of his beer and raised a steady brow as Bradley cleared his throat—unaware of that fact Jake's hand was resting utop your knee, creeping closer and closer to your core. You’d frozen in your place as you kept your cool—surely he wasn’t. You were misinterpreting things.

The slight touch of your ass before and now this?

“Well I don’t know about you guys but I need another drink.” You smiled as you remembered how to breathe again as Jake removed his hand from your jean clad thigh. “Dad, you want another? Kian?” Jake was quick to stand to let you out, there was a look he didn’t quite like written in the lines on your face. “Did you want another Budweiser Mr Seresin?”

“Jake, or Hangman, please—“ There was a certain amount of list that dropped from Jakes tongue at the idea of hearing you call him Mr. Seresin over and over again as the idea of having his way with you ran rampant in his kind. “And sure thing sweetheart.” He smiled as you pressed your lips together and nodded softly.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll probably step outside to call mum too.” Once you were gone, Jake turned to his son and smacked him right upside the head. Kian gasped as he rubbed at the back of his head. All Bradley did was watch the interaction unfold—it wasn’t often he got to see Jake be a parent and sometimes it was pretty comical to watch.

“Ow! What the hell was that for!?”

“Don’t diminish your girlfriend like that.” Jake argued. “For a Bradshaw she doesn’t seem half bad and you just shit all over her college education like a fuckwit.” Rooster was speechless, he never expected Jake to defend you like that, ever. He kinda felt a little chuffed at that.

“Didn’t you cheat on two of your three wives?” Kian fired back as Bradley choked on his final sip of Canadian Club. “That’s pretty diminishing if you ask me.”

He wasn’t wrong. And boy did Jake hate that his son was far too much like him.

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

As you stood on the front veranda of the Hard Deck, you took in the sight of a few Naval Aviators that had just arrived. You could hear laughter and chatter dripping out from inside the bar but you were pretty content in your own peace for a moment.

“So—“ Jake didn’t mean to spook you, but as he watched with lustful eyes as you jumped and let out a small audible gasp, he held his hands up beside his head. Holding in his right the vape he’d pulled from your jean pocket before. “Does Kian know you smoke?” He tossed it your way, you caught it in both your palms before tapping it in the railing.

“Yeah, he knows it's only when my anxiety gets bad.” You tried to explain. “When I feel under duress.” You shrugged your shoulders and pressed your lips together into a fine line. “I told him I was gonna quit after summer break.”

“Those things are full of carcinogens.” You agreed with a silent nod, took a hit, breathed in the flavored vapor before exhaling slowly only to take a drink of your third cocktail of the night. “I’m sorry for what my son said about your degree.” Jake admitted as he stood beside you with his hands in his pockets. “It was a little outta line.”

“The really ironic thing is he’s the one who’s studying psychology and can’t see how peaceful life becomes when you decide you no longer have the energy to argue.” You explained. “How peaceful life becomes when you’re okay with being misunderstood.” Jake wasn’t too sure what you were getting at but regardless he listened intently. “People only understand from their level of perception Mr Seresin—and quite frankly no argument is worth damaging my mental health over, including but not limited to Kians opinion on physiotherapists.”

“You two doing okay?”

“We’re fine—“ You lied through your teeth. This summer was all about trying to salvage the love you shared for one another. “We’re just going through a small rough patch.”

“Ah, well unfortunately for Kian he doesn’t have the best role models to look up to in terms of relationships.” You chuckled softly as you took another sip of your drink and turned your attention to Jake. “But there's no excuse to treat such a fine young woman like yourself with disrespect.” You didn’t reply straight away, you stood in the silence on the front veranda of the Hard Deck with your boyfriend's dad for a moment until you heard a loud cry of cheers coming from inside. “Kain and Rooster are having a dart comp—“ Jake mentioned briefly as his eyes never left yours, the distance between the two of you was next to nothing and the alcohol in your veins made you brave.

Braver than usual.

“Why did you touch my ass inside?” You asked through a slur, you thought you knew what you were doing but then again you never really dank. So there was a pretty good chance it had hit you pretty hard.

“I don't recall doing that sweetheart—“ Jake scoffed as he reached out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I wouldn’t do that, but I’m sorry if I simply grazed you when I was sliding in behind you.” Jake was hard, his jeans were straining tight against his length as he throbbed inside his boxer briefs. You were really something.

“How’d you get my vape then?” You asked through a coy smile and battered eyelashes that made Jake want to shove you down to your knees then and there. “If you didn’t touch my ass?”

“It fell out of your back pocket.” Jake had to grit his teeth together in order to maintain a level head as you walked your fingers up his chest. Slowly. “Careful there sweetheart you might give me the wrong impression.”

“And what about when you touched my knee?” You continued as you reached back to pick up your drink. Taking another sip, Jake could smell the alcohol on your breath and he knew that you were inebriated. Perfect.

“Friendly gestures aren’t welcome I see?” Jake tried once again to play his actions down to mere exaggerations on your behalf. He almost had you believing that it was all in your head. “You’ve got a little something on your—?” He paused, tapping at his lower lip to suggest you had something there. “Here I’ll get it.”

Before you could protest, Commander Seresin, your boyfriend's dad, was running the pad of his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. He paused as he collected the alcoholic foam.

“You know for a Bradshaw you really are a pretty little thing aren’t you.” He didn’t mean to be so forward, but then again if you were intoxicated he could spin this whatever way he pleased come the morning. This never happened. It was all in your head.

“I’ve been told that a time or two.” You smiled softly.

“Hopefully my son knows how lucky he is, or else someone might just snatch you up.” Jake removed his thumb from where he’d been tilting your chin up towards his gaze. There was just something about you.

He needed to be inside you.

“Someone being?” You pressed, wondering what he could possibly say next. Wondering if this was really all in your head or if you had actually been flirting with your boyfriend's dad and he with you. Jake's answer set your nerve ending alight. You didn’t know how to process what he said before he turned on his heels and left you there standing on the veranda of the Hard Deck alone.

“Me—“

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

#father son & the holy shit // jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin x y/n

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vintagenahbi · 26 days

Text

HOME pt. 3

Jin x Reader

Summary: You and Jin discover that you are expecting your first child, but are faced with challenges that neither of you could imagine.

Warnings: topics related to pregnancy that could be considered controversial.

I had been procrastinating on going to my first ultrasound appointment since I found out about my pregnancy. The first time I went to the doctors I found out I was 9 weeks pregnant to the day. I got the doctor to set up my ultrasound a week after so I could get back to Jin and tell him the exciting news; however, since that appointment I had been pushing it back more and more. After feeling the pain I felt the other day I knew it was no longer wise, but I had my reasonings.

I found out my pregnancy was high risk for one. I really wanted this baby and having rh-negative blood, I knew there were additional risks that I would face. Although Jin was still on the fence, he knew I was set in my ways. He also knew I could not be walking around pregnant with only blood work confirming and no ultrasound. Another reason I was nervous was because the ultrasound would make it real. I was really pregnant. Jin was really going to be a father. I was really going to get married. I really could die.

I was sitting on the couch when Jin walked in from his gaming room. I just got done booking an appointment on my phone for the doctors later on today. Luckily, there was a cancellation so I could go. Jin sat on the couch looking at me and then the TV. I knew what that meant causing me to turn it off.

“When can you go?” He said.

“I got an appointment for later today. Can you come? I understand if you can’t.”

“I’ll be able to come.” The room fell silent. I had something on my mind but didn’t want to be the one to address it. I love Jin, but I had questions circling in my mind over the whole marriage ordeal. Maybe he asked to marry me because I was pregnant. Maybe it wasn’t out of love but pity. In my mind, it felt like my insecurities were showing. I am happy with Jin and I think he is happy with me, but everything was happening at once.

“Did you mean it?” I blurted. He raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips in confused. “Did you mean it when you asked me to marry you?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” He said directly without any hesitation.

“We never talked about it before. I don’t know, it felt weird.” I didn’t know how to word it properly. Admittedly, I was scared of marrying Jin now. Before I would have been eager, but there was a chance he could be a single father or a widower before a year into marriage.

“I love you y/n. This situation doesn’t change that. I’d rather us get married, forbid something happen, and not me feel the joys of being your husband.” He turned his eyes away and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna get ready now.” He got up and went into our bedroom to get changed.

Two hours later we were finally at the doctors office. I sat in the doctors chair waiting. Jin had on his face mask in attempt to disguise who he was. Early on in our relationship we decided that we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I wasn’t ready to be in the spotlight nor did I need that stress, especially now.

Jin held my hand as we continued to wait. I watched as his thumb rubbed against my hand. It reminded me of all those times he would hold my hand when he was unsure. The doctor walked in the room smiling. He felt welcoming which calmed my nerves some. The nurse had already prepared the station and it was time to see our baby.

The doctor started the ultrasound. I was 12 weeks and four days. I looked at the monitor and noticed something off. I tried to get a closer look but the doctor clarified what I was seeing.

“It looks like you are having twins. It won’t be for another week until you find out the gender, but you are having two babies. Congratulations.” I looked over at Jin whose eyes had widen. The doctor continued, “Now, you are high risk so I am having you be put on bed rest. Minimal movement and since you are rh-negative, depending on your babies blood type it can present risks during birth since this is your first pregnancy. As of now, you are okay. Has anything weird happened or concerns either of you might have?”

“No.” I responded quickly in attempt to silence anything Jin could say. I didn’t want him to tell the doctor what happened earlier that week.

“She felt a sharp pain that caused her to fall to the floor the other day.”

“Okay. We can run some test before you leave and get them back to you no later than tomorrow. Until then take it easy and enjoy this time.” The doctor took a pause. “I know it can be scary with a pregnancy like this, but we will do everything we can to keep you and your babies safe.“

Jin and I got back into our car. I felt like I was about to get scolded. The look on his face was scarred yet stern. He kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re staying home. If you need anything we will figure it out. I can’t have you out and our babies, our babies.” He spaced out for a moment. “I can’t lose you y/n.” The tears came. It was clear that he was trying to stay strong for me, but holding it in was becoming too painful. I was his safe space and I for once couldn’t do anything to make it better.

I felt like I was making a mistake in that moment. Maybe I wasn’t thinking. We could try again but the outcome could still be the same. I knew this journey was not going to be easy.

Jin got himself together. I stayed silent. I felt horrible about my inability to speak. I looked down at my stomach which already had the slightest bump because of our twin babies. I started out the window, waiting for us to get home.

Once we arrived home, I made my way to our bedroom. Might as well get a head start on that bed rest. Jin stayed in the living room for a while. After thirty minutes, of doom scrolling on my phone, I saw his figure at the doorway.

“Twins.” He said as I smiled at him. He got on the bed. He pulled me close to him. “We’re going to do this together. All of us.” I suddenly felt at ease, like all the worry melted out of my body. All that thinking I had been doing was gone. Jin said what I desperately needed to hear.

Part 4

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts reader #bts x reader #bts #bts jin #jin x reader #jin imagine #jin #kim soekjin #soekjin x reader #bts soekjin

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hockeyboysimagines · 7 months

Text

Isn’t she lovely

If y’all remember in the end of The Battle of Alberta, Matthew and Hallie are having another baby! Here’s a little shortie about baby #2! I will never stop writing for him.

Warnings: Childbirth

The cutest ever.

“If you hate me it’s okay.” He said rubbing a hand over her sweaty forehead. The pain she was in was almost crippling, and she was so nauseous she could barely see straight. She adjusted how she was sitting, getting a few seconds of relief before pain flooded her body again.

“I don’t hate you.”

“I would. I’d hate me.” He smiled sympathetically at her and gripped her hand.

“Hey.” She looked up to find Taryn standing in the doorway “You doing okay? Need anything?”

Hallie shook her head, eyes closing and wiggled around again till she got comfortable. This time around was way worse than when she’d been in labor with Thomas. The contractions were blinding, and the epidural had worn completely off. Matthew watched the monitors as they beeped and measured her heart rate, blood pressure and contractions. So far everything had gone the exact way it was supposed to. She was so thankful the others were here, leaving her to worry about labor.”

“Where’s Thomas?” He asked Taryn.

“In the waiting room with Brady and Dad. They just got him something to eat. Everyone’s waiting anxiously. My mom wants to know if you want her to come in?”

Hallie nodded “Please.”

Taryn smiled and disappeared out the door and she looked back at Matthew. He looked equal parts excited and concerned, and gave her a small smile. She smiled a little back as another contraction swept through her, sending a jolt of pain through her body, making her eyes burn as Chantal came in the door.

“Hi honey. How goes it?” Chantal looked at the monitor as she came to stand by Hallie’s head and swept a stray hair off her forehead “What did the doctor say?”

“She was 6 centimeters an hour ago. The doctor said they’d be back to check her shortly. But her contractions are like 3 minutes apart.”

Chantal looked mildly impressed that Matthew knew all of that. He may have been clueless about a lot of things, but he’d paid rapt attention during Thomas’s birth, and hadn’t missed a single prenatal appointment for both babies. If there was anything other than hockey he considered himself knowledgeable about, it was babies and how to birth them. He also considered himself an expert in how to create them. He had even joked he was so confident in his abilities he could deliver baby girl Tkachuk at home, until Brady reminded him he’d nearly passed out when Thomas was finally out.

Taryn was hovering by the door and Hallie smiled and beckoned her forward “You can come in Taryn. If you want.” Taryn nodded and smiled and situated herself in a chair next to Matthew “So what does that mean? 6 centimeters.”

“It means she’s almost there. Thomas is so excited.” Chantal said with a smile. Hallie had gone into labor late last night and by a stroke of luck, all of the Tkachuk’s had happened to be in town when it happened. She and Matthew had been in the hospital since her water broke, and the others had arrived that afternoon “He can’t wait to have a little sister.”

“I would have been more excited if you’d given me a sister first instead of Brady too.” Matthew chuckled, elbowing Taryn. Hallie chuckled a little and closed her eyes. She was so tired, and in so much pain she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Her body felt spent and every part of it hurt.

The door opened again and a doctor breezed in followed by two nurses, smiling widely.

“Hi mama. How are you doing?”

“Terrible.”

The doctor chuckled and lifted the blanket to look underneath. After a moment or two she popped back up smiling “Good news is your ready to push. Let me grab an extra nurse and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Hallie took several deep breaths, and closed her eyes, relaxing herself as much as she could. She was hot and exhausted, but knowing that in a short time she’d have a precious baby girl sent a surge of excitement through her. Matthew stood and stretched and rubbed his hands together.

“Finally.” He said giving Hallie a kiss on the forehead and making his way down by her feet.

“Okay dear. Let’s get you situated.” Chantal moved the empty water cups and rags that were littered around and moved the table from over the bed, setting it to the side, and then pushed the chairs away from the bed so she could lean over Hallie to hold her hand if she needed. When Hallie opened her eyes, she saw Taryn stand and look towards the door before she looked back to her.

“Can I-can I stay?” Taryn asked looking between her and Matthew. He turned to Hallie and shrugged.

“It’s up to Hal. It’s her girl parts out on display not mine.”

Hallie smiled and nodded “Of course you can stay.”

Taryn smiled widely “Yay! I wanted to watch Thomas being born but I couldn’t because of covid.” Taryn switched spots with Matthew, and put a hand out to Hallie to hold.

The doctor appeared back in the doorway smiling widely and clapped her hands “Everyone here?” She asked looking around.

“I think so.” Matthew had a large smile on his face as he watched the doctor seat herself by the end of the table and pull on gloves, before moving the blanket up by Hallie’s hips area.

Hallie started to shake and Chantal reached one arm over her head and gripped her in a half hug with the other one. Taryn too grabbed a hand and squeezed it excitedly.

“Okay.” The doctor looked up at her and smiled “On three, I want you to push.”

Matthew put his hand on her knee and and rubbed it smiling encouragingly at her “You can do this Hal. Almost there.”

“Okay, one, two-“ Hallie felt a sudden burning, blinding pain and the Doctor gasped a little before she and the nurse started laughing.

“What?” She asked tilting her head up “What’s so funny?” She glanced at Matthew and saw him light up, and then she heard the most beautiful sound she had heard since Thomas was born.

A baby cry.

“You we’re supposed to wait for three!” The doctor exclaimed handing the baby to the nurse, who brought her up to Hallie and patching things up below Hallie’s waist.

“Oh thank God.” Hallie fell back against her pillow and breathe out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding in, and deflated like a balloon. She was sweaty, tired and hurting, but one look at her new baby made it all worth it. Thomas had looked like Matthew from the get, curly hair and all, and by now had become his double.

But baby girl Tkachuk, looked already like Hallie.

Taryn clapped her hands together and then put a hand over her eyes, giving her mom a side hug, who was already crying.

Matthew rubbed his eyes and made his way up to Hallie and rubbed her forehead, smiling. His eyes were red and he looked like he was dazed but he leaned down and kissed her in the head and then looked deep in her eyes.

“You did so good.” She nodded and tears leaked down her face and turned into a sob. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath while doctors moved around her for what seemed like ages until they sat her up and handed her her new baby. She was so beautiful and Hallie got lost looking at her for a second when she heard the door open.

Brady came in first, followed by Keith holding Thomas.

“Oh my god.” Brady whispered leaning over to look at her “She’s so perfect. Congratulations.” He kissed the top of her head and gave Matthew a tight hug. Keith set Thomas down and he came to greet his new baby sister. Keith grabbed Matthew by the shoulder and looked at him with so much pride Hallie wanted to cry.

“So?” Chantal asked, leaned forward in the chair , hands folded under her chin “Do we have a name?”

They did, and Hallie traced a finger down her new babies nose before she said very softly “Welcome to the world….” She looked at Matthew who smiled and nodded “Lilly.”

#matthew tkachuk #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey tumblr #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockeyblr #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #hockey fandom #hockey writing #hockey tag #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #nhl writing #nhl oneshot

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