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#but the doctor has patience and imagination.
ozzieinspacetime · 1 year
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Hey!! Hey. None of the (canonically) dead Deca had bodies to mourn over. Hey. Think about that. Their bodies either got obliterated or permenantly possessed or stuck in a big old paradox. They have no graves and in Millennia and Rallons case nobody remembers they exist and in Vansells case he got fully fucking disintegrated and in Draxes case he's literally always dying because he's trapped himself in a forever cycle. Hey. Hey!!!!!
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coldbrewnette · 15 days
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I cannot wait to finally be able to send my father back to santo domingo bro
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godzexperiment · 7 months
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im writing an drabble about young nix & why he's not an model medical care patient (in his 'human' d.ominion verse) like yeah no surprise he probably has so so many notes in his files etc and just shit like- 'needed stitches, proceeded to bite near the wound when it got itchy when told not to scratch them' him as he grows up just evolving to 'refused to seek medical attention until was coughing blood and even then only because his squad held an intervention'
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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months
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Cramps
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Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.
Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes
A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u
Bitchy. 
You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 
You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 
What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 
 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 
Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 
Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 
So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 
“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 
“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 
“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 
For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 
Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 
You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 
“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 
“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 
Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  
You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 
“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 
At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 
“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 
“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 
“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 
“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 
But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 
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You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 
Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.
Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 
Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 
Your period had come.  
In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 
“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 
It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 
“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 
Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 
“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 
You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 
“Thank you. You’re the best.” 
“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 
“Oh shut up, meanie.” 
“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙
“Love you too. 🤍” 
Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 
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Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 
As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 
“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 
Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 
You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 
“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 
“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 
“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 
“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 
“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 
“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 
“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   
“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.
“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 
As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 
As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 
“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 
“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 
Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 
“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 
“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 
“I think I can make that happen.” 
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About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 
“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 
Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 
“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 
“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 
“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 
“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 
Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 
But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 
“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 
“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 
Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 
With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 
“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 
Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 
“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 
Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 
Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 
“Frankie, holy fuck.” 
“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 
“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 
Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 
“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 
“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 
Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 
Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 
Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 
“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 
“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 
“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 
Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 
“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 
“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 
You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 
“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 
That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 
With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  
“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 
“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 
“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 
“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 
“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”
“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”
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skylarsblue · 1 year
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦
Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*
-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-
-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-
-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…
-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.
-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-
-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-
-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!
-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)
-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-
-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.
-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.
-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.
-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-
-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.
-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-
-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?
-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.
(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)
-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.
-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.
--
(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.
-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.
-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!
-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-
-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.
-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.
-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.
-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.
-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!
-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.
-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.
-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*
-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*
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writer-freak · 2 months
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Period Care | Lads men x gn reader
Characters: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel
Warnings: Gn reader ,mentions of reader having mood swings,period cramps, english isn't my first language, haven't fully played the game yet so these maybe aren't 100% accurate
A/n: I wrote the Zayne headcanons for my bestie and I ended up deciding to also write for the others. I actually planned on writing a Valentine's fic but I haven't finished it because I was busy preparing for my Valentines date.
Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3
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Zayne:
Zayne as the dedicated partner that he is has a period tracker for you on his phone. He uses it so that he can be one step ahead, ready for when your period comes around just to ensure that he is fully prepared.
He is like a walking pharmacy, he always has your favorite relaxing tees and painkillers on hand. In general, he has a period product stash, just in case you have forgotten to restock or were caught off guard. Just in case he has a secret supply tucked away.
He is a doctor so obviously he is offering some medical insight. He will probably explain to you the medical technicality with periods and all that kind of stuff. Would be the first one to tell you to see a doctor if you have bad cramps. 
He would probably also recommend some gentle Yoga stretches that are supposed to help with cramps
He has some hidden sense for your emotional needs. Somehow he always perfectly knows when to help you out and when to give you some space while on your period.
But of course, while he is a doctor and gives you a lot of practical solutions, he will also give you lots of physical affection if you need it.
He'll wraps you up in his arms holding you close and giving you all the kisses that you want. He might be a bit exhausted from his demanding job but Zayne is dedicated to being there for you.
Even if he's barely able to keep his eyes open he'll stay by your side offering you comfort and support.
Okay, now imagine this.
It's early in the morning and you are curled up in bed battling with cramps straight from hell. Before Zayne heads off to his shift in the hospital he slips into the kitchen makes you a hot water bottle and gathers everything that you could need. He brings them to you and gives you a kiss on your forehead telling you that he will come back as soon as he can.
Zayne will do whatever you need and will be especially good at giving you practical advice. And even if you ignore his advice his explanation will at least put you to sleep.
Xavier:
Xavier is the epitome of patience and care, he is your dedicated partner during your period.
 He's not just there, he is really present offering you a comforting presence. 
There is just something about Xavier that makes you feel safe almost like sinking into a warm hug. He really is a master at cuddling, wrapping you up in his arms, and napping alongside you.
Xavier tends to be a bit forgetful about the timing of your period. But when it's actually there he is by your side, doing whatever it takes to make you feel better.
Oh did I mention that voice of his? It's just so calming. 
If you need a distraction from some cramps Xavier's soothing voice and words will ease your mind lulling you into a peaceful sleep. And when you wake up you'll find him right beside you, probably also asleep. 
He in general just relishes in keeping you close and caring for you during this time. Even if he doesn't fully understand your mood swings he remains calm and understanding trying to support you in every way he can.
Also, any medication you need he is gonna immediately get, if he doesn't already have it, and whatever your craving he is gonna bring to you. 
I think he would maybe like to pet your head or play a bit with your hair to help you relax if you are fine with it.
And I can't forget to mention his hands, if you ask him to put his hands on your tummy to help with your cramps he will do so immediately. And in general, he would give you back or tummy rubs if you ask him for them.
Xavier just wants to do whatever you need during that time and is a very caring and dedicated partner.
Rafayel:
Rafayel tends to only realize that you have your period when you are more on edge than usual. He isn't really thrilled about you being in a bad mood but he rolls with it, kinda finds amusement in your crankiness, and uses it as an opportunity to playfully tease you.
With teasing, he will especially do this if you are being extra clingy, but he also uses your clinginess as an excuse to be extra close to you.
He'll wrap you up in his arms and always refuses to let you go until you feel better, he loves the extra cuddle time.
While on your period he would use darker bedsheets to help avoid staining.
He isn't exactly an expert about periods but he always stocks up whatever you're currently craving or your general favorite snack just in case.
If you need painkillers he's on it, he wants to make sure that you have everything you need to help ease your discomfort.
He can't really stand seeing you in pain so he will try and shower you with extra affection, peppering you with kisses and gentle touches, claiming that it's just for your relaxation.
Playful banter is kind of his love language. Beneath that, he really just wants to make you feel better but it includes a little bit of teasing and complaining from his side.
I imagine him preparing you a nice bath if you want to, bringing you into the bathroom, and telling you that you should relax. If you ask him to join you he would probably tease you about how you just can't be without him.
But actually, he just waited for you to ask, so he happily joins you while relaxing in the tub.
And if you thank him for helping you so much during your period you could see him getting a little embarrassed, his ears turning a faint shade of pink.
Rafayel all in all is just really affectionate and loves using your period to soak in extra attention and affection from you.
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Divider by: @saradika-graphics
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diobrando · 2 years
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My mom said my sister in law is going to let us take Dominic out on our own for the first time next Saturday like lmao don't get your hopes up theyre gonna renege on that promise
#imagine being someones aunt and not having the chance to take that child out even once in their 6 years of life#my mom must be so pissed bc i know its worse for her as a grandma to have such limited access to these kids bc my sister in law &her family#are more fucked up than ours#sorry that youre all jealous that im his favorite person in the world 🙄#you know theyre pissed that he is so attached to us despite the limited time we get to spend with them and its... idk distressing that they#think like that instead of being happy that we care about him and worry about him and would gladly offer to help them out more esp because#they always use him being on the spectrum as an excuse to claim he's a difficult child like rip to u bitches for not educating yourselvesso#about autism and getting mad at the child for not being 'normal' like sorry you refuse to curb your expectations but you should#he's a good kid with an appropriate level of curiosity and energy yall just took too long to seek professional help when the signs were in#your face so of course its gonna be harder to teach him anything bc you freaks also refuse to set up a good learning environment#yes im criticizing them as an individual who has no children but if I WAS a stay at home mom the situation would be very different#i would cook healthy meals instead of waiting for the daily McDonald's meal to show up. i would create better routines and devote more time#to my child instead of staring at my phone all day and delegating the task to my adolescent nephews/nieces and my mom and her gf#i also know how to drive like wtf does this bitch think shes doing complaining that she does so much girl you dont even drive... all the#stress is on my brother to provide everything and make time to take his son to therapy and doctors appointments bc YOU DONT DRIVE#she says shes the one that does it like no... someone is taking you so youre not doing it at all#like. i see the videos of my brother at the physical therapist with his son youre not gonna tell me thats you 🙄#the bar is on the floor with this bitch (yes i dislike her ❤ but i have to be nice bc oh boy if im not theyll go back to that phase of not#letting us see the kids again) but ohhhhhhhhh im so annoyed rn its so annoying that ppl become parents and expect their kids to be easy and#not require 100% of their parents attention love an patience#if they get divorced idc my brother better try to get custody but god that would be rough#if he moves back in he'll be able to say there are 3 adults to watch the kids & we can provide financially and have the space for everyone#but i know moms usually get custody even if in this case it wouldnt be the best outcome
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circeyoru · 3 months
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What if Alastor meets the forest spirit and angel again but he's demon?
Love your work!
Wow. First ask. Didn't even expect this. Okay, let's see.
Meet The Radio Demon of Hell, Alastor
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{The Spirit’s Favourite Human}
Sadly, the day came when Alastor’s time on Earth was up. So he was a bad human was your thought when his soul was sent down to Hell. But it was so good to you and taught you how to speak in human language, he even brought you to his home and work to show you how humans live. You think he doesn’t deserve this
Oh. The killings. That’s why… There were a few close encounters that made him nearly guilty or caught by the law. But you helped out with those and didn’t realize what exactly you did until he thanked and explained it to you. Still, it was a good human in your eyes and heart
Maybe being sent to Hell was a good thing, there were the occasional humans that would do rituals in your forest to summon demons from Hell to form contracts or just test the theory if there is a Hell and demons. So you tried manipulating the humans to summon Alastor, your dearest human that you missed
Alastor was in Hell. He knew that and expected that. There was nothing to regret but leaving you behind on Earth in that forest you called home and he called his burial grounds. He learned that demons can go back to Earth, a limited time but it was better than nothing
He observed, from time to time, some demons, even IMPs can be summoned with a summoning circle that would pop up out of nowhere and wait for something to step into it. It was either something approaching the summoning circle or the caster gave up. Demons would fight over the chance to go to Earth and haunt some soul to gain power, it was a safer way to rise up without losing in a deal made, that’s for sure
He has grown in power and authority. When he walked towards a summoning circle, demons and sinners alike would steer clear. Some would rush towards the circle, but he waited until they returned and added them to his broadcast
His shadows spread far and wide to be alerted of any summoning circles that would appear. Then he’d try to possess that human so he could go to you in your forest. The best thing was you would roam around or leave your forest, the bad thing was that you were quite secluded, so travelling to your place was a difficult task
Either way, he found his method and met you again. The two of you would spend your time together in the forest, strolling and chatting your time away until it was time he leaves. Slowly though, you two didn’t like the spontaneous visits and want something more permanent 
He said he’d find a way to connect your forest with his home, but he needed more power. To connect Earth with Hell, this was done, but with summoning circles with human souls to power it. He promised and you kept him to that
You waited 7 years with nothing to show you he wasn’t double dead from the yearly exterminations
Imagine your surprise when you heard your woodland creatures ran to you with the weirdest thing ever seen
When you reached, you couldn’t believe it. An entire half of a room was there connecting your forest to it. The signature decors and colour pointed it to Alastor’s doing. You had your creatures stay back as you cautiously took a step towards the connecting areas, will you hit a wall? Or will it disappear? Should you have waited for Alastor first? You couldn’t hold your excitement and stepped over
Solid ground, like the room Alastor brought you back when he was alive. You looked around, ignoring the small birds that flew around you. You snapped out of your daze when you bumped into someone
Alastor wrapped his arms around you as his hand waved around his microphone cane, “Welcome to my humble abode in the Hazbin Hotel, my dearest.” He got in front of you and kissed your hand, “I’ll show you entertainment never seen before for your patience.”
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{Angelic Doctor}
Honestly, there’s no way for you and Alastor to meet. Especially when you knew what he wanted to do to you. But you did continue your work as an angel that spread goodness. You only waited until Alastor’s time on Earth was up to continue your work
There was one time. That one time was enough. A human was haunted by a shadow demon due to the fact that a contract was signed. You only later knew that that demon was Alastor. He couldn’t come up to Earth due to the constraints of the contract, so it was only a shadow that saw to the completion of the deal. You stayed clear of that country for a while
Alastor felt it. Your presence around his shadow that he sent to the human realm for that contract. But it vanished as quickly as it happened. He needed more power and he looked for a way to get that. You were an angel and he knew that. If only you were an exterminator, then at least he knew when and where you’d appear
He made some bad, very bad, choices while he was in a rush to see and meet you again. Something that can connect him to Heaven. That Hazbin Hotel. Charlie and her delusions. You tried changing him, but it failed. What makes the sinners down in Hell any different?
He goes with Charlie to Heaven as the hotel’s facilities manager, just to try and catch you. He does, you were one of the angels with power, being the head of Influential Angels that was to act as good ‘people’ on Earth
As much as you disliked it, you were made to attend the count meeting with Princess Morningstar, unknown that Alastor was there since you never saw his demon form. You were called on to explain your job and how much you and your other angel colleagues made a difference, all could change, but the ones with dark red souls of blood colour. Which was the majority of the population in Hell
Que Charlie bringing up Angel as a good example of change. You had to admit it was convincing. You did want to help out Charlie and her hotel project. Then you were shocked to exterminations in Hell ordered by Sera and led by Adam
Once the entire extermination war was over and a sinner was actually redeemed and brought into Heaven. You offered your services to try and promote the plan to redeem sinners and avoid exterminations, some volunteers joined since they wanted to redeem their friends and family that were in Hell for minor offences
Your visit and stay in Hazbin Hotel was welcomed by Charlie and especially The Radio Demon, who introduced himself as ‘Alastor’
“My darling doctor, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, I hope your stay would be enjoyable and worthwhile.” Alastor greeted with a widening grin
“Doctor?” The hotel members all raised a brow, was that your name?
Alastor leaned close and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you close, “Oh, I forgot to mention. This darling angel was in my area doing good and we got acquainted. We were close.”
You frowned, deciding to tell the truth just so your on-guardedness would be explained. You removed his arm from you as you flew a bit off the ground, “Yeah, too close since you tried to drag me down to Hell with you through a soul binding.”
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Note: I tried keeping it as short else it'll be a full-blown oneshot for both of them
Thanks for ask though. (〝^ω^)ノ
Circe Y.
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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year
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Wild Horses
Part 4
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
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A/N: I hope y’all like this chapter and I apologize if it took long! Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts. Don't be afraid to stop by and say hi and if there are any ideas you guys would like to have in this story, just let me know! And as always, I hope you lovelies have a beautiful day! 💜💜💜 Also I apologize if some of the tags don't go through, I make sure to add each and every one of you lovelies but the tagging system here sucks ass.
Story Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Chapter Summary: 🎶Don't be suspicious.🎶
Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, mentions of sexual themes
(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)
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🍂Simon Riley. Simon MOTHERFUCKING Riley. The only man to exist that has managed to accomplish aggravating you in every possible way imaginable. For a woman known to have a great deal of patience, he sure as hell didn’t even need to lift a finger to break that record. Might as well put him in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘The Most Stubborn Asshole Man Alive’ because you’re pretty sure if you looked up the words stubborn and asshole in a dictionary, his face would pop up.
🍂All you did was help stitch him up from a gunshot wound that could’ve gone way south if not done correctly. And when you tell him to come to you if he has any injures or illnesses because you want to help him, what does he do? What does this asshole of a man do? Insults you! Right to your face! I mean sure it wasn’t a direct insult nor were any of his words particularly insulting, but it was still rude and it offended you.
🍂“Meh don’ bother. I’m a big tough dummy and I eat rocks and tea for breakfast. I don’ need your help.” You mock with a shake of your head and a widened stance, mimicking both the voice and stature of the masked English soldier. The little ‘altercation’ had left you nearly fuming, pushing you to go outside to get some of that chilly night air in order to cool off. “I bet you use Gorilla Glue on all your wounds and call it a day.” You scoff, returning to your original posture. You better pray Ghost isn't lurking around somewhere unless you want your ass beat.
🍂Your dad had always taught you kindness and patience, being the down-to-earth soul he was, but boy was this man absolutely testing the everlasting shit out of you. You almost had to mutter out a small apology in your father’s honor for the obscene and colorful language that fell from your lips. But the more you thought about the absolute 6'4 idiot of a man, the more you became frustrated over it. All that body mass and not a single ounce of a brain. How he has managed to come this far without dying of an infection, you have no clue.
“Hope you like that fucking sour apple Dum-Dum you lollipop thief. You’re lucky I don’t dye your stupid mask pink.” You don't know what came in you in that heated moment but next thing you know you were practically planning your funeral and writing a will of your inheritance for your cat back home. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't do, it's kicking a random metal can just lying around on the street. Let's just say you were fucked because the sound that came out of you was equivalent to the screeching of a dying narwhal. The way the throbbing in your big toe had you clutching the wall and wheezing like a fish reeled right out of the water begging the creator for mercy was enough to produce some sweat out of you. And just your luck, as if the night couldn’t get any worse, Price had heard the noise and went to investigate it. Shouldn't this man have better things to do?
The face you pulled would have risen some concern from your colleagues back at the hospital in the states, a widened smile and pain-filled eyes, and you can’t help but to thank the poorly lit lamp streets for obstructing it. You swear you feel like your head is about to explode from the way you tried to keep it all together. But as Price asked if you were alright, looking over your stiffened and awkward stance, one hand out on the wall and your injured foot crossed over the other, all you could do was nod frantically and let out a wheezed ‘Yup. Finer than frog hair split four ways’. You pray that he doesn’t think you’re constipated or something from the strain in your voice. Coward. I would have faked a fall and had him carry me over the threshold.
Price of course doesn’t get American lingo and has no clue what the fuck you just said but takes it as a yes. Just you wait till he goes back in and tells the others what he heard. The man practically opens up the computer and searches up the phrase that you uttered just to find the meaning, all while the others crowd around. And after scrolling through a bunch of different articles involving different American slang, they collectively decide to learn a bunch of them in order to communicate with you. I lied. Because literally from this day forth, they randomly spit out different words and phrases just to tease your American accent. Actually Soap is the only one who does that………….just Soap.
Anyways……..
When Price finally closes the door behind him, you’re back to gritting your teeth and cursing at the pain in your toe and blaming it for your misfortunes, waiting a couple minutes so as to not run into the captain or the others before hurrying limping back into the building and into your room.
What did I tell ya. Should have just asked for Price to carry you back.
After inspecting your toe as what felt to be broken, you were glad to find out that it was just a grade 1 sprain. As painful as it was, for a successful recovery all it needed was some ice, taping, drugs, and a lot of rest. Rest......right. Like you were gonna get any of that.
Should've just reported it to Price.
Guess you can add one more injury to your list of things that are in the process of healing. The men come back from the mission bloodied and bruised with gunshot wounds, and you…….well you sprain your toe from trying to kick a can of beans or whatever the hell that stupid metal cylinder was filled with.
As if you weren't stressed enough before. Now you had to worry about hiding this tiny injury from the rest of the team to prevent them worrying about you. Also because you don’t want them to start asking questions about how it happened in the first place and find out that a can of beans was the culprit behind it. Hm, sounds a lot like someone else.
When you finally laid in bed that night, drugged out on melatonin and pain killers and wearing an oversized tee and a pair of shorts, you couldn’t stop drumming your fingers against your stomach, your injured foot propped up on a pillow with your big toe wrapped and taped up looking like you borrowed Fred Flintstone’s foot. Now just how were you going to hide that? It’s not like you can just grab a pair of those circus clown shoes or an orthopedic boot or some crutches and hope no one notices. And while you stared up at the ceiling, the drumming of your fingers coming to a stop as you contemplated on the idea while waiting to crash out from the melatonin you took, there is only one thing left that came to mind. So, in one swift motion, you grab the spare pillow closest to you and scream into it. A really long, really shrill scream that would have put the banshees to shame. Yup. You can now say you had officially reached your breaking point.
And what happens when you’re stressed? You have strange dreams, like really strange dreams. I’m talking weird vivid outlandish shit that feel too real kind of dreams. Because when you wake up the next morning, sweat beaded at your forehead, you can only think about the very explicit dream you had last night. The one involving you and the team and a series of very……………how can I say this, rated porn shit. It all felt real, too fucking real, because when you move your legs over to hang off the side of the bed, there’s a tenderness there and well………….everything else that comes with it.
“Yo what the actual fucking shit.” You groan, resting your elbows onto your thighs as you shove your face into your hands and rub at your forehead and cheeks.
How the hell were you going to face the team after waking up from something like that? You could almost paint a picture of the entire sequence as if it just happened, and boy was the image going to be burned into the back of your mind like the searing of a branding iron.
You were embarrassed just thinking about it. Every time you closed your eyes, you were reminded of the way their hands and lips roamed every inch of your body, the way their skin almost burned against yours, the stubble of their facial hair grazing against the sensitive skin that lined your inner thighs and the wetness of their tongues, the sounds of their low grunts and moans that escaped from deep within their chests that mingled with your soft ones as their heated breaths fanned your neck, the sharp smell of metal that paired with the rhythmic swaying of their dog tags as they dangled above you with each movement, and the pulling sensation in the pit of your stomach after reaching your high with each of them.
And then there was Ghost, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, the way he looked you over with disgust while you were on your back when each of them hovered over you. And when he finally stood in front of you, when there seemed to be no one else, glaring down at you from under that mask of his, and uttering one single phrase, 'you harlot of a tart', you woke up. Typical ole Ghost. An asshole in reality and an asshole in dreams.
You needed air, a shower, and a change of clothes, desperately. Price had given you the day off when you finished patching the men up last night. And that is exactly what you were going to do. But first you needed to clean yourself up, preferably with holy water if there was any, and then........well...you needed to get out of this building and get some fresh air because what in the 60s psychedelic orgy was that.
Lazily getting up from your bed, you quickly tie your tangled hair up in a simple bun and slide on a pair of slippers over your fuzzy socks, throwing on your plush Grogu and Mandalorian patterned robe over your sleeping clothes and pulling the hood of your robe over your head to provide extra warmth. Today was a much needed day off after the shit storm that was yesterday. As part of your regular morning routine on the days you didn't work, you grab your other mug that you finally found after rummaging through your things; the one shaped like the head of Kermit the Frog and decide to make yourself a cup of coffee to wake yourself up first and foremost.
Making sure to balance your weight on your uninjured foot, you wobble over to the kitchen, your empty mug in hand and your bottle of pain pills in the other that rattled slightly every time you dragged your feet across the floor. Your eyes tear up as you let out a long and dragged out yawn, squinting in the process which prevents you from seeing just what you were walking into as you place your mug on the countertop with a high-pithed clink.
If you thought today was going to have some mercy on your poor soul........................well you're wrong. Because while you have your back turned to the dining table behind you as you try to start up the coffee machine, you had forgotten that the thing was still broken in the first place, and also the fact that you live with five, now six, other men, and their eyes were now all on you. Girl if you don't turn your ass around-
"Mornin-"
"Sweet baby Jesus!" You nearly jump a foot into the air, spinning around in a frenzy with a wild look to see that the whole crew had been at the dining table the entire time and that you weren’t the only one scared out of their wits.
Did you just say ‘sweet baby Jesus?’ They haven’t heard that one before.
You stare wide-eyed in fright at the men seated at the table, your hair a mess and your heart so close to bursting out of your ribcage you swear you'd have to chase after it as you clutch the counter behind you.
There is an obvious awkward silence in the air as everyone stares at the inharmonious mess that is you and your startled state, curiously eyeing the large Grogu ears that were attached to the sides of the hood of your Star Wars plush robe and your bare calves that peeked out from underneath the hem down to your fuzzy socks that had cats all over it. You're practically following their eyes as they look over to your bottle of pills and your Kermit mug on the counter beside you before looking back at you. Oh to be able to read what went through their heads.
Despite your clashing wardrobe that made him question your taste in attire, there was one thing Ghost had focused on more, one that was obvious to those who knew it, a dainty tattoo of the unmistakable silhouette of a rose along the side of your calf. Was that the same rose off of Depeche Mode's 'Violator' album cover? It sure was, because right in the center of the stem where the rose was cut off, were the words 'violator' in cursive. Be still his heart. Is this man planning a proposal and your entire wedding? He was almost curious to find out what other bands or artists you listened to. Maybe he'll sneak a peek at your playlist-
"Howdy! You eh...........ya look worn slap out......I reckon." Soap smiles, trying to mimic the southern American accent but failing miserably, which only earns a round of groans of agitation at the table as the team roll their eyes. All but König of course, he's just as clueless as you are. He wasn't there when the team were searching up American slang.
You-what? The hell is this man on about?
"Jesus-" Price rolls his eyes at Soap's antics as he goes to take a sip of his coffee.
"......................" You're still mute. Your eyes dart between each of them, your thoughts only replaying the pornographic images of your dream as this sudden irrational fear begins to develop that they might be able to get a glimpse of your thoughts. Make a run for it-
"................Ye awright there wee lass? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally." Soap's smile drops.
You're lookin a bit what?
"Mate, shut up." Gaz whispers to Soap after noticing your disconcerted expression. It was making him nervous, no doubt, and the fact that you weren't saying anything only made it worse.
The whole team were practically waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was stare. Girl either you say something or just take your clothes off and let them have you right then and there on the dining table, bandaged toe and everything if your dream distracts you that much-
"Guten morgen schatz (good morning love)." König sent a wave in your direction to try to ease the tension only to drop his hand back down after seeing that you did not respond. Poor dude is worried you’ve fallen ill and is practically sitting on the edge of his seat, analyzing every detail of your body language and ready to leap to your rescue in case you show any signs of falling unconscious.
Even Ghost couldn't stop the annoyed sigh/huff that escaped, shaking his head at the uncomfortable and nuisance of a situation as he took a sip of his tea, the motion catching your attention. That is when you first noticed that he had the lower half of his mask lifted up to his nose. Was this the first you had seen of part of his face? You found yourself tracing over the outline of his jaw and the cool-toned, medium blonde stubble the color of pale sand after a storm that lined the skin there, following along the curves of his lips and noticing the small scar that traveled down until his words from your dream echoed in your head, the same lips that said to you 'you harlot of a tart'. And as you lifted your gaze to his eyes, you found them narrowing at you. Shit.
"There's uh.......there's a cuppa coffee for you in the fridge there." Price nods towards the fridge near you, hoping that would snap you out of whatever trance you are in. I mean if you don't want it, I'll take it.
"....................." You had this overwhelming urge to puke and the last thing you wanted was to unload your stomach's contents of microwaved pasta right in front of everyone.
"Eh....estas bien amor? (you alright love?)" Alejandro's words pull you out of your thoughts. Oh what I would give to have this man ask me if I'm alright-
Bitch just say something-
“Блядь (fuck).”
Wha-what? That’s not what I meant-
The men quickly give each other a glance from the side of their eye. Did you just blurt something in Russian?
".................sorry what?” You squint with a scrunch of your nose, pulling the collar of your robe over your braless chest as a faint heat rose to your cheeks, utterly terrified to look them in the eye lest you'd get flashbacks. Should've just made a run for it when you first saw them-
More silence, nonexistent chirping of crickets that makes you want to crawl into a hole and decompose. Then there is the sound of someone slurping. Who-NOW WHO'S SLURPING?
"Sorry." Gaz utters a quick apology, dragging his tongue over his lips as he places his cup of tea down on the table.
"The coffee machine is broken love." Price adds.
"I know that." You state with a blink, startling the men on how quickly you suddenly respond as if nothing happened as you shove your bottle of pills in the pocket of your robe before unplugging the machine from the wall and tucking it under your arm.
The team can't help but watch as you leave the area with your mug in hand and the coffee machine in the other, each of them as confused as the next. What in the-
"What the bloody hell was that?" Price blurts out.
"Don' know. Anyone know what's the matta' with her?" Gaz watches you go with concern in his brow.
"Ah dinnae ken." Soap shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Ah think some nugget-lavvy-heid meid her up tae high doh."
"Mate," Gaz rubs his face. "English-"
"Ah said." Soap translates. "Ah think some eejit has riled her up."
The way Ghost nearly snaps his head to glare at the Scot. Why does he have a feeling he was talking about him in particular? There's absolutely no fucking way-Wait. The lollie. The fucking sour apple lollie. Was that some kind of an insult?
"Well that's a load of rubbish." Price comments. "If ye ask me, she's just knackered from mending yer sorry arses up."
The way Soap, Alejandro, König, and Ghost glare at him.
"Yeh but......why'd she take the coffee maker?"
"She's prolly gonna give it a fix." Gaz answers Soap's questions with a shrug.
Soap sits back in his seat with a pause, pondering on what Gaz had just said before turning to him with a confused look. ".................but ah thowght she's a doctor."
"Fuckin' hell Soap."
By the time that you return to your room, slamming the door behind you, you're already cussing yourself out for acting the way you did back there. Now they definitely were going to think that something was wrong with you. And if they did, what would you say? That you had a dream y'all were playing multiplayer adult twister? No. HELL NO. You'd almost prefer them to think you were a spy and take you out-and I don't mean take you out as in dinner, I mean take you out as in a firing squad take you out. All the waterboarding and the fingernail-pulling in the world could not pry that info out of you. If only that dream did not affect you as much, if only.
Hm. You know what, maybe Ghost IS to blame in all of this. You only get wacky dreams when you're stressed. After all, he was the one who got under your skin, not Soap, not Gaz, nor Price, definitely not Konig, and not even Alejandro.
There was only one other person who ever managed to get on your nerves the first time you got to know them, only one person who never failed to make you roll your eyes every time they opened their mouth: your ex. But even then, at least the two of you got along no matter the snarky comments you made towards each other. And as annoying as he was at times, he always found a way to bring a smile onto your face no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Ghost on the other hand, well…….he’s something else alright. This man literally has you wanting to rip your own hair out and hike to the Himalayas to seek some kind of therapy yourself.
"God I'm such an idiot." You growl between clenched teeth, tossing the coffee machine into the trash before limping around your room with your hands on your hips. You definitely needed to get out of the building or else you just might go mad. And with the men there who just witnessed you at your most vulnerable and natural self, the last thing you wanted was to be within their vicinity. Changing out of your sleeping pajamas, you threw on an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats, grabbing one of your beanies and tucking your hair into it before throwing on a pair of sneakers. You’re already cracked out on pain meds so you might as well run a few errands while you're out, as well as grab a new coffee machine because god knows that's the only thing that keeps you sane these days. You’re so caught up in the process of rushing to get the hell out of there that you fail to notice the masked soldier standing right beside your door a foot away.
“Holy fucking-!” You jump in your skin, hand clutching your chest once you notice Ghost leaning against the wall in the same exact stance like in your dream. Jesus fucking Christ. “Ghost! I uh did not see you there. You nearly had me rushing to the hospital for heart failure haha.” You laugh nervously through your teeth, trying to maintain your polite manners as to not anger the contracted killer. What the hell is he doing here and what does he want? Sending the man a polite smile in hopes that he would just go about his business, you pull your keys out of your pocket, the jingling of the metal making up for the extreme silence that filled the dusty air between the two of you.
“………………………”
Jesus fucking christ. He's just standing there isn't he-
"Uh. Can I help you?” You ask, turning to the man who only stared in your direction, as still as an unused puppet. Only he seems to ALWAYS have something up his ass. At least a puppet talks.
Damn that fuckin politeness of yours, Ghost thought to himself. “......................You're bein’ dodgy." He did not like the way you were acting back there. It was as if you were hiding something. And being the person he was, he found it suspicious.
Oh if he were to see the reason behind it. You're pretty sure it would make his mask blush.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You press your lips together, fixating on your keys in your hands as you try to lock your door.
"Your behavior. You're up to something."
Ah yes. Good ole Ghost. Trusting no one but himself, the little shit-
"Says the one standing right outside my room." You mutter to yourself, cursing under your breath at the way you fumbled your keys and were unable to lock your door due to how he glared at you as if you had put salt instead of sugar in the queen's tea. You bet your bottom you probably looked like a shmuck struggling with something as simple as locking the fucking door. If this dumbo doesn't scram-
"Come again?"
This man was really starting to get on one of your last nerves. “What? Didn't anyone ever tell you it’s rude to lurk outside a lady’s door? You can get your ass tased for some shit like that.” You snark before letting out a quick breath of air at finally getting your key in the lock. One step closer to getting the hell out.
There it is, the real you. Ghost almost can't help the way a slight amusement builds within him at watching you get riled up like this, the faintest hairline of a smirk begging to pull at the corner of his mouth. But despite his little fragment of entertainment from the show of emotion he had managed to string out from you, he had to remind himself the real reason he was here. “The hell are you up to?”
“Nunya.”
“Nunya?” Ghost narrows his eyes, not sure what you were getting at and at the same time not liking where this was going. He swears if this is one of your little tricks-
“Nunya damn beeswax that’s what.”
“What-“ Ghost straightens himself off the wall, hands lowered to his sides. Okay now you were just annoying.
“How was the sour apple lollipop?” You remark, not being able to hold back the snide comment that slipped from your lips. You prayed he would get the meaning behind your little 'token of gratitude' from last night.
You should not have said that-
Bitch I’d become a track star in the fraction of a second-
“You-“ Ghost takes a step towards you but stops from the way you whip your head towards him.
“I know you did it, you little burglar. What, you think I wouldn’t notice that some fish-and-chips-eating crackpot was ransacking my lollipop stash?”
Da foq did you just call him? Ghost is stupefied as he stands there blinking at you, hands ever so slightly tensing. How the bloody hell did you find out? Did you know about the apples as well? Please don't know about the apples- And as he tries to open his mouth to say something, you don't even give him a chance.
“You know, for someone that is known to be stealthy and whatnot, you sure do leave a mess of your Sephora eyeshadow everywhere.”
Oh now you’ve definitely popped a nerve.
“What? You gonna stab me?” You quirk a brow at watching him tense up. “Please, be my guest. Just make sure it’s quick and that I’m officially dead so my student debt disappears.”
Bitch don’t give him a reason tf-
Jesus you talk a bloody lot when you’re nervous, Ghost looks at you confused as he cocks his head back. Well he sure didn’t expect that answer. Doesn't change the fact that he's pissed though.
“You know, you should be glad I didn’t write your Skeletor ass up for not only neglecting medical treatment but also stealing my damn treats.”
“Ye’ve got some nerve ye little tosser-“ Ghost grabs you by your upper arm and yanks you to him as he glares down at you.
Your poor toe-
“Ow! Someone outta teach you some manners.” You sputter, surprised from his sudden and forceful movement. And yet, you can’t help but find yourself flustered at being manhandled no matter how much you tried to preserve your vexation towards him. Ohhh, were you attracted to this? Wait, am I attracted to this???? Nah-
“Yer a real pain in the arse you know that.” Ghost can’t help but to roll his eyes, knowing damn well he did not handle you that roughly to begin with, despite your reaction.
But you and I know it’s just your toe-
“Yeah no shit. I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes in a dramatic manner. “But if you wanna be real, you’re like a bad hemorrhoid if we’re being honest.”
Did you just-
“Whot the bloody hell did yuh just call me?” Ghost snarls as he yanks you even closer to him, your chest bumping into his. Did you just call him a fucking hemorrhoid?
The jerky movement elicits a small gasp from your lips, pried right out of your lungs before you glare back at him with as much as you can muster; your jaw clenched, brows drawn together, and your eyes shooting straight up into his even more menacing ones. You try not to think about those nonexistent slander of words he uttered to you. Dream or not, that shit hurt. And as you think back to the dream you had, you were swiftly brought back to the circumstance right in front of you, immediately aware of the lack of distance between the two of you and the way your chest was pressed up against his.
A heat starts to form in the pit of your stomach, slowly making its way from your core and unfurling out to every inch of your skin, like being brushed over with a velvety feather under the warmth of the sun. His grip on your arm is almost revering if it weren't for its threatening nature as you stare up at him, and you swear you could feel the subtlest shift in his fingers through the thick fabric of your hoodie from the way his thumb ever so slightly grazes across. Your sharp gaze softens, admiring the way the sun's rays from the nearby window lit up his lashes like wisps of gold, like the feathers of an oriole bird soaring over the deep brown valleys that resemble his eyes.
He smelled like last night’s whiskey, a hint of the cigarette he smoked this morning, and his cologne that smells of sandalwood and pine trees. It’s almost refreshing. And in this moment, you don’t even care that you literally look like a teenage boy with your hair tucked into your beanie, wearing a pair of converse and your vans baggie hoodie and sweats. There was only one thing on your mind, one thing only.
“Let go of me.” The only words you managed to breathe out.
“Or what?"
“…………..I’ll scream.”
*cue Princess Leia's theme*
Kiss him. *insert Emperor Palpatine voice* Do it-
You found yourself burning for this innate desire, this need for him to push you against the wall and have his way with you, to have him lift the bottom of his mask and feel his lips on yours, traveling down to the angle of your jaw and your neck and just about everywhere there was you, all of you. Simon had noticed this sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your biceps loosened under his fingers through the course fabric of his gloves, the way your lashes fluttered against the ridges and deep ravines of your irises as you stared up at him with a far-off look that yet seemed so close. Were you-no, can't be.
The way you looked under him appeared to lure him in, not to mention your scent, that same perfume that seemed to have dug its claws into him since the moment he first met you. His eyes now lowered to your parted lips as he found himself focusing on their shape and the short shallow breaths that drifted through, wondering about how they'd feel, their softness, their taste. And as his head lowered just the smallest inch towards you, he noticed once more the small circular scar on the side of your neck. Only this time, he was finally able to make out what it was, and it reminded him too much of his own past. How that scar came about to form on your skin, he had no clue. But it was none of his concern, he had to tell himself. Clenching his jaw, Ghost drew himself back, once again returning to that cold and forbidding presence that was there before.
Actually it’s a good thing you didn’t try to score a smooch. You’d probably just get WWE body-slammed-
“Can I go now?” You clear your throat. “I’ve got chickens to tend to and errands to run.”
"What errands?"
"Why? You gonna help me pick out some zucchinis?" You cock your head back. "Now if you could release that lego grip of yours I'd appreciate it."
Ghost lets out a hmph, the only thing he can do despite his frustration as he loosens his grip just as you tear your arm away from him.
“Thank you." You give him a condescending smile before reaching into your tote bag to grab something while Ghost watches you intently, hoping it’s not another lollie. Lies. Y'all know he wants one-
“Here are your blood results by the way since you refused to stop by my office to go over them.” You slap the papers onto his chest, which earns you another glare from him. “So don’t come whining to me when you don’t understand a thing it says on there.” You snark one last time before heading off to the front entrance.
"Oh and another thing." You turn back around. "I'd cut down on the smoking and drinking if I were you."
All Ghost could do was watch you walk off with the slightest stomp in your step before breathing out a “Fuckin h-“
“Goddamn son a bitch.” You grit your teeth, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie once you step out of the building. You swear that man goes out of his way to annoy the everlasting shit out of you. “Fucking shitbag cumguzzler ass-OH MY GOD!”
You stop suddenly at the sound of a small animal, your eyes wide and mouth hung open as you look towards the ground to see a tiny tabby kitten trotting in your direction from the bushes, it's tail fluffed straight up in the air as it was excited to see you.
“Hi there little guy.” You coo at the small ginger ball of fur making its way towards you before bending down and reaching a hand out. "What're you doing here all by yourself huh?"
The kitten stares at your outstretched hand, giving it a sniff before finally rubbing its head against your palm with its eyes shut. You almost had to bite your tongue from the squeal that just ripped out of your throat. I lied. You did squeal.
“Ahhh omg." Your smiled, your heart swelling at seeing the kitten warm up to you as it came up even closer and lifted its tiny paws to rest up on your bent knees. It was as if you had completely forgotten the mayhem that was today, as if it was just you and this tiny kitten and no one else.
"Oh you’re coming home with me.” You carefully pick up the kitten with both your hands before cradling it against your chest, stroking your tired fingers through its soft and yet dusty fur.
“Mew.” The kitten let out another meow, the small rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours as his pupils widened, nearly blackening out his pale yellow irises as he stared up at you.
“You know what." You gasp. "I shall call you Spot." (Kudos if you know where the name is from.)
“Mew”
“You don't have any siblings hiding out in the bushes ready to jump me and steal my credit cards do ya?"
“Mew.”
“Shit.” You mutter out, your smile dropping as a realization comes to you. How the hell were you going to hide the kitten?
Tag List: @swissy23 @sualocin @kristalhi @deakyspuff @sometimes-i-write-good @hamilfanyu @princessranch @ig-you-idiot @obitoshotaf @cavern-creature @at0mschutzbunker @eddiesbixch696 @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @jocecymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @aloudplace @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff @notabotiswear @thecraziestcrayon @lilwingedwolfy @sprkthere @shyyxzi @bookmark-anon @simplecole18 @itsourkisses-blog @here4thespice @sunndust @josephquinnswhore @spooniscute @xghostyx666 @nikolai-m-s @he4rtbloss0m @classifiedtoe @killergoddessmm @sm8th0p @lunarayx @iwannabeazoldyck @butterflypillows @lobeliaaaaaa @mxtokko
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pix3lplays · 2 months
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I have an oc to pair with Dr. Ratio and it's simply because they are chaotic together
Imagine a mysterious person within the Guild, hopefully you know if they are a man or a woman because their name is neutral, they do not appear in public
It is known that he has countless doctorates and titles in all kinds of things, they were even selected for the Society of Geniuses but that person rejected the invitation
Veritas Ratio knows about that person and asks for their collaboration on a project, they receive a letter of elegant calligraphy apologizing for not being able to satisfy their request and having to decline
But Ratio is not known for giving up, after many attempts, he reaches his limit of patience
He arrives at the place that is his office, almost no one passes through that hallway and knocks on the door to enter
On the other side, various sounds of objects falling and a person running towards the door are heard, the small viewing slit opens and a computer voice speaks
"Excuse me, are you Dr. Ratio? I'm sorry I can't work on your project if you come for that reason, is the letter with the answer still not in your hands?"
"I came to talk, can you open the door?"
Ratio insists for several minutes, and finally after pressing the door it opens
The person behind it is completely different than expected. He has prominent dark circles under his eyes, a short stature, visible health problems and the entire "office" is a mess with many inventions and books scattered around
She was a rather nervous and shy woman at first glance, beginning to stutter and tremble.
"W-well... W-what do you want to talk about?"
Ratio soon sees that this person, despite being incredibly prestigious, can hopefully hold a conversation and at the slightest hint of aggression she almost begins to cry
It's strange
Ratio says he understands a little of what is happening, trying to soften his words and tones of voice to talk to her
And it doesn't take him long to understand that she doesn't work with him because she sees him as unworthy, but rather that she is afraid of his reputation and doesn't want to bother him
"I-I'm so sorry! I don't want to bother your advances, how could I help you with my annoying personality?"
And Ratio realizes that maybe... He can teach that genius who seems like she could die of fright to live
That way, he tries to get her out of his office every day, he doesn't force her to reveal her identity to the rest, but at least he makes her look decent and not like a disaster
She nervously eventually manages to go to some conferences and not just watch everything from her office, the progress is so slow but satisfying that Ratio applauds himself
Although of course, seeing the acclaimed Veritas Ratio without his mask, cheering a girl who seems like she could die of nerves over an extremely complicated topic... It draws attention
Oh, now the gossip of the entire Guild is to find out who can accomplish such a feat
"It seems that some idiots in the Guild are interested in knowing your identity after seeing me around you."
"Uh!? N-that can't be it! I must hide! Ah, go to the bottom of the mines in the mountains where no human can find me until half a century passes, no one will be able to recognize me!"
"No"
"Okey... Not with that tone of voice"
"…"
"Do not look at me like that! Uhh..."
"(And to think that this is progress)"
Ratio pats the woman on the shoulder, hoping she doesn't turn into a ball in the corner AGAIN
Oh, but... Ratio thinks that, in the end, she is very pretty even if she has a hard time talking to anyone else, it feels like talking as an equal
—📦
(Huohuo without Tail and with a mysterious genius background, but it was social problems instead of something interesting and intriguing)
See that’s the fun thing about Ratio lolol…personally he really does strike me as a…“I’m only interested in my intellectual equals,” kind of man. Like. As long as they’re smart he’ll adjust to most personality types…but honestly imagining him with someone kinda goofy and dumb is cute too lol…
Sigh, Ratio is SO-
But also okay hear me out on this one…Ratio with a reader who seems goofy and silly but then can just randomly say something incredibly profound and thought provoking. He’d have such mixed feelings haha…he’s just waiting to hear something smart. It gets to the point where he realizes that you’re actually intelligent…but nobody else knows, and he FIERCELY defends you if anyone should question your intelligence.
Idk…R a t i o…
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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months
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thank you for wishing me well regarding my chronic pain. may i request a könig or ghost headcanon or drabble of a gender neutral y/n with a shoulder pain kind of chronic pain? like, being unable to carry anything heavy, limited movements, and needing help with simple tasks as they heal? thank you in advance!
— Yandere Ghost and König with gn darling who has shoulder pain from chronic illness
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Warnings: yandere behavior, and talks about chronic illness.
A/N: I did both and headcanons! Hope that doesn’t make you upset. Enjoy <3!
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Simon “Ghost” Riley:
He takes your health very seriously– always reminding you to never overwork yourself, even if you feel obligated to finish a chore/or assignment that you know will leave you sore. And if you require help, you ask him, and he’ll do it.
To an extent, he understands your pain. But he knows he’s not you, and you aren’t him; plus, pain is much more than a 1-to-10 scale ratio. He may be used to it now, but he remembers the sleepless nights, sharp pain electrifying everywhere in your joints, dreams of imagination of being painless, and exhaustion that holds tight onto you. He knows how awful it is, and seeing you in pain makes him uncomfortable. 
With this said, Simon understands that all you need is care, love, and patience. Moving to-room-to-room could take so much out of you, even lifting a book has you gritting in pain, to which he takes care of you — easily taking it out of your hands. He often carries you, asking if you require anything else, and places you down wherever you like in the rooms. 
To no surprise, Simon knows how to deal with pain: bringing you pain meds prescribed by your doctors, surprising you with your favorite snacks, running you a bath with bath–salts, or even going out of his way to massage your swollen joints, but only if you want him to.
Having limited movement because of your own pain leaves Simon’s really close to you. He’s at your beck and call, never forcing you to move, always groaning as he gets up from the bed to retrieve your choice of hobby, gladly fixing the blankets around your body and making himself comfortable beside you again. His arms around you, tracing lines in your skin as he asks what you want to watch on TV. 
Simon does everything around the house for you without being asked. It’s how he shows his affection, other than being physically touchy, but he isn’t one for lovey-dovey words. Within the stance of you resting, you might have an ounce of guilt and try to help him — which he quickly refuses. 
About the third time you get up, despite his warnings, he’s carrying you back to bed, grouching that you need to rest, not worry about him, and that you deserve as much rest as possible. 
For the days when it’s hard to do self-care, he doesn’t judge and is more than happy to help you. Brushing your teeth for you in bed, gently changing your clothes, bringing in facial wipes, and ensuring you take your night meds; letting you lay on his chest, tracing the outline of your face, and giving himself a bit of a relief, as you’re slowly getting better.
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König:
Attentive to your needs, kissing the side of your head as he reminds you to take it easy. König is fretting over you, always checking in and hopes that if he makes you something, it’ll ease your pain. But it’s never that easy. He realizes that it isn’t enough, that it’s more than you just feeling bad. 
He’s babying you, and while he knows you’re capable of doing things, especially since you have had this forever, König would hate for you to extend your pain, or worse, have to go to the hospital due to a dislocation. 
Because of this, he carries a lot of things in the house — constantly saying ‘no’ when you’re about to grab the groceries, or helping out with the dishes. He focuses on doing the chores, multitasking on doing the laundry, and coming in every 15 minutes to check up on you. 
Chronic pain is difficult. He knows there’s medication, things that he will and can get for you to soothe the pain, but he doesn’t know the extent of your pain. So, when you express the burning sensation, or the pins-and-needles, he takes your words and works on making it decrease. König carries you, letting you lay on the freshly made bed, and asking what you want to do, as it’s a lazy-loving day for the two of you. 
He’s constantly around you — gifting you things, your favorite foods, drinks, or whatever you feel at the moment. He’s always bringing you fresh-washed blankets, ducking them in tightly and kissing your forehead before sitting right next to you, hand on your thigh. 
When the days of not feeling good, and you can’t leave the bed with how sore you are, he’s there, hand-feeding you soups, and praising you on how well you’re doing. He’s carrying you to the bath, starting the water to a nice temperature and having you strip; turning around for privacy before helping you in when you’re ready. König, of course, helps with washing your body and hair, kissing your skin gently as he asks what you want for dinner. 
König lets you know that it’s okay, and you’re okay. He’s coddling you, always by your side and on your side, letting you lay in bed, and helping you stretch in order to regain a bit of flexibility. He knows it hurts, he sees your barely-down-to-tears, but this is necessary and he’s sorry.  
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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justagirlwholikesadam · 4 months
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Farmer! Sandor Clegane Headcanon
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don't own these pics
Summary: Just a few headcanon of Sandor Clegane as a farmer.
A/N: Thinking about this man as a farmer has me down on my knees. Comment and like below, maybe I can do next farmer Sandor meeting reader. Enjoy-L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune
Warning: SFW, sad childhood, Sandor being himself, dog dad,
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Farmer!Sandor always knew he wanted to be a farmer from a young age. He liked working with his hands and moving around. He never wanted a desk job, he couldn't imagine his 6 '6 self sitting on a small computer chair for nine hours a day, five days a week. He had low patience dealing with idiot people, so retail was out of the question, any job that required dealing with people was a no. So far the only thing talking back to him were the animals on the farm and he was content with that. 
Farmer!Sandor isn't much of a people person but he will sometimes invite Tormund, a worker from the market he goes to for groceries once in a while over to watch the game or just for a beer. Sandor only does it because Tormund doesn't shut up about coming over. After two six-packs, Tormund isn't so bad to be around and he doesn’t ask him about his scars. 
Farmer!Sandor gets up right before the rooster crow at dawn. He likes to watch the sunrise while drinking black coffee. He nibbles on some toast or some corn muffins. On Sunday, he makes a big breakfast meal since it's the only day he rest. Eggs, bacon sometimes with ham and grits. 
Farmer!Sandor wears a white beater shirt and his dark coarse chest hair peeks out. It shows off his broad shoulders and his muscular arms, it was all thanks to the hard manual labor he does. He ties his long hair with a black hair band, he keeps a spare around his wrist. He wears old blue jeans that hang low on his hips. Sometimes he wears a flannel shirt, when it gets too hot, he takes it off and wraps it around his hips. He wears these heavy size 12 boots with rubber outsoles on them. 
Farmer!Sandor sweats alot after a long day of work. He uses the flannel to wipe the sweat off his forehead, neck and tone arms. He showers immediately after walking into the house. He leaves the boots outside and goes into the shower to clean the dirt and sweat off of his body. He makes sure he cleans himself, rubbing the body wash thoroughly through his chest hair and his long hair. 
Farmer!Sandor walks out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. His burn scars are a bit red from being out in the sun all day. He reminds himself for tomorrow to wear his hat. He grabs face cream from the medicine cabinet to help with the redness. Some days Sandor can't stand the sight of him, that's why he liked being alone in his farmhouse. He dislikes the stares and pointing he got when going into town. 
Farmer!Sandor still has issues about his face, it has gotten much better after going to the doctors. He has even done surgery for his hair to grow a bit, he usually combs his hair over to cover the slightly bald spot. He applies oils on his beard regularly and it helped his beard grow a bit back. His right brow has grown a bit as well, but the burn scars on his cheek and ear are still very visible. 
Farmer!Sandor dresses comfy to get started on dinner. He walks into the kitchen and turns on the radio or sometimes the tv. He's listening to the news while cutting some veggies he has grown from his garden in the backyard. He usually grills his steak in the backyard when he's not tired. Opening a beer, he sits down and eats in silence. Sometimes he eats in front of the tv and watches whatever is playing. He's not picky on what to watch on tv. 
Farmer!Sandor was on the field the next day on the tractor when he heard barking. He turns it off and looks over his shoulders to see it was a dog a few feet away from him. There isn't usually strays around, he makes sure of it since he has some chickens and pigs. He walks towards the dog, its shaggy fur is white and gray. Its ears are floppy and its tongue is hanging out as it pants. 
“You alright, pup?” He asked, not really expecting it to answer but to his surprise. It barks at him, making him smile.
He carefully stretches his hand out when he notices it wasn't going to bite. He pats its head and even scratches behind its ears. Asking if it wants to eat, the dog’s tail starts wagging like crazy. Sandor decides he’ll have lunch early that day. He smiles once more when he notices it’s following him all the way to the house.  He sits outside on the porch swing as he eats his sandwich and drinks a cold glass of ice tea. He watches the dog eat the leftover steak from dinner last night. 
Farmer!Sandor decides to keep the dog after it kept following him everywhere for the past week. When he finds out it’s a girl, he decides to name it after his little sister, Ellie. The dog didn’t seem to mind, it followed him whenever he said it. He liked having company, it was less lonely when he wasn’t working. He lets Ellie sleep on the foot of his bed.
Farmer!Sandor doesn't smoke that much, he really only does it when he has a rough day. He’s sitting on the porch swing with a beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. Since he’s alone, he does alot of thinking as he watches the sunset. He thinks about his life before he started to farm. He has been thinking about his little sister lately since the dog came around. His little sister was his best friend when he was younger. He had told her about his dream of having a farm. He smiles to himself as he remembers her telling him that he had to have horses for her to ride. He promised her that he would when he was a kid he had even promised her that he would have two horses so they could ride together. 
Farmer!Sandor didn't have a good childhood, his parents were never around and his older brother was a bully. His older brother was the one to burn him when he was a kid. While holding his face on the hot coals, his little sister tried to help him. She hit the older brother on the back with her tiny fist. Furious that she was hitting him, he had smacked her. He hit her so hard that she fell back and slammed her head on the coffee table. Ellie lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital and did not survive. His older brother was 18 at the time and was sentenced to prison. Parents couldn't handle it and left Sandor, who was placed in foster care. 
Farmer!Sandor gets brought back to reality when he feels Ellie rubbing her head against his knee. He threw the cigarette out and placed the beer on the small table near him. He pats the seat next to him and makes sure that the swing doesn't move as Ellie jumps up next to him. He leans back as she rests her head on his lap. Sandor pats her head softly as he looks over across the field and stares at the half built stable he was building, he was going to get those horses and complete his promise to his sister. 
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sorchathered · 1 month
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Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 8
A/N- thank you guys so much for being patient with me, I know that cliffhanger shook everyone up but I promise your patience will be rewarded!
Pairing- Jake Seresin x Reader (OC Stormy)
Warnings- injuries, cursing, smut
Song inspo- “Like I’m gonna lose you” - Meghan Trainor
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It had been nearly 6 weeks since your accident, ejecting over the ocean in an aircraft during a dogfight which resulted in your shoot not properly deploying, sending you spiraling towards the ocean at a speed that thankfully didn’t kill you or your pilot. The emergency team that life flighted you to Maryland had to sedate you heavily to manage your pain, so excruciating that it required what the doctor had called a medically induced coma. Broken collarbone, broken left wrist, fractured femur and a gnarly concussion that had you out for several days, waking up alive certainly not what you were expecting; the first thing that caught your eyes was the golden blonde hair and green eyes of the man you loved. Jake had been there through it all, every sleepless night, surgery, pt until you were finally released to go back to your home in Pensacola. You knew your godfather had facilitated some sort of miracle to allow Jake so much time away from his job and for that you couldn’t be more grateful, Uncle Beau couldn’t be your support team so he made sure you had everything you needed.
You were exhausted, the plane ride had been painful and as much as you’d tried to put on a brave face Jake could tell you were suffering, he got you inside and settled in bed and refused to let you do anything other than rest, you knew he had to be running on fumes but if he was he didn’t show it. You weren’t wrong, he was wrung out both emotionally and physically but if he stopped pushing forward he knew he’d break down, there had been nights when you were sedated that he worried you wouldn’t get through it and having to face life alone without you was too much for his heart to bear. Now that he had you home and safe he couldn’t imagine going back to North Island, let alone watching you get back into your jet, the thought sent a shudder through him; losing you was never something he’d imagined before all of this but now it consumed his every waking moment. It wasn’t healthy, and he was a bad liar so he knew you could tell he was fraying at the edges, your doctor had suggested that it would be beneficial for you both to do therapy together or separate and he was sure that was an option that needed to be explored. He started a load of laundry and as the clothes swirled in the washer he scrolled through his phone to find admiral Simpsons number, maybe requesting a transfer could give him the peace he needed to sleep at night.
A week goes by, pt is going well, your godfather has extended Jake’s leave once again but his request for transfer was denied (which you expected and told him at least 1,000 times you didn’t need him to move across the country to babysit you), but you could tell his nerves were shot. when you woke up most nights he wasn’t in the bed, usually in the living room reading or watching tv, sometimes on a run that would last for hours. Therapy hadn’t been easy the first session, you’d rehashed the drama of your crash and had ended it in tears, you’d been assured it would get easier but it felt like it never would, especially with the walls it felt like Jake was building around you. He treated you like glass and it was becoming more and more frustrating, he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his head, he definitely wouldn’t sleep with you and all you’d gotten were a handful of kisses and hand holding since you’d come back to Florida. It felt like he was pushing you away and that was what you knew would push you over the edge, injuries you could heal from but losing him? That would destroy you.
Jake of course is clueless to your fears, he is just pushing through each day trying to make sure you are healthy and getting better, the thought hasn’t even occurred to him that he’s been distant, how could he be? He’s with you all the time! But when he gets back from his nearly 10 mile run the tension he hadn’t noticed is palpable, you’ve somehow showered and changed without him and when he catches your eyes from your spot on the couch he knows you are ready for a fight. He’s seen that look over a dozen times but never aimed at him, the storm is raging in your features, jaw clenched and eyes red rimmed with tears; you’ve been crying and somehow it’s his fault.
“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you wait for me? You shouldn’t be doing anything by yourself-“ he started but you waved your hand dismissively and continued to scowl and tear up, he didn’t know what was going on but whatever he’d done he would get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. “I’m not hurt, I managed to take my brace off to shower and put it back on by myself, that’s not the problem. The problem is us.” You said the last part in almost a whisper as you burst into tears, you’d never been much for crying when you were upset but everything had gotten so overwhelming and you couldn’t get your thoughts together, Jake surged forward to scoop you up and it didn’t matter that he was sweaty and gross you needed his touch more than you could say. You clawed at his skin and gasped out as you tried to stall your tears, pulling at his face to kiss you and he reciprocated but continued to hold you as gently as possible, afraid to jostle you too much and hurt your leg. Your eyes looked wild as he pulled you back a little to calm you down, but you kept clinging to him and trying to pull him closer, he didn’t want to stop but the fear of hurting you was prevalent so he pulled back completely and stood up, only to be met with another round of tears. “Hey hey, you gotta talk to me sugar I don’t understand what’s going on? You’re scaring me baby, just tell me what it is and I’ll fix it ok?” You looked at him and huffed like a petulant child and he almost laughed but knew it would only make it worse, something was eating you up and he didn’t have a clue where to start. “I don’t understand how you don’t get it, you’re doing it to me right now! You’re pushing me away, I’m not made of glass Jake! You’ve barely touched me since we got home, it’s like you don’t even want me anymore and I can’t stand it!” You wailed out and he had never felt more idiotic in his life. He had been so focused on your recovery that it had never even occurred to him that you would want him like that right now, but of course you did; you needed him physically just like he always had when things were hard and somehow he’d completely missed it. You were still sniffling as he ran his hand over his face and chuckled, which made you scrunch your face up angrily at him because how was this funny? He had been acting like an ass, of course he’d done everything to be your caretaker but damnit you wanted your boyfriend.
“Oh sweet thing I’m so sorry, I really have been stupid huh?” He said as he stepped back into your space and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t realize, baby, can I fix it? Take you to bed and show you how sorry I am?” You nodded furiously and put your hands out for him to scoop you up, letting him carry you down the hall to the bedroom as you kissed his face and neck, running your hands through his sweaty hair and down his shoulders. He still treats you like your fragile, but it’s in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses placed all over your body as he removes your clothes, there’s a reverence in the way he loves you, you’d missed the intimacy of being with him so much it hurt, and now that he knew what you needed you knew he’d give you everything. He could tell you were irritated by the leg brace, couldn’t quite get close to him the way you wanted, you were terrible at hiding it with your furrowed brows and frustrated huffs as you tried to gain leverage and push up against him. He stilled you with a hand on your hips and kissed you sweetly on the forehead trying to smooth away the irritation. “You’re so stubborn, lay still and be a good girl ok baby girl I’m gonna get you there I promise, be sweet for me like I know you can.” You huffed out again but did what he asked, watching as he kissed down your torso and hitched your good leg over his shoulder, you were already so wet and gasping for him but he was going to draw this out as long as possible, you said you needed him to touch you so he would until you couldn’t take it anymore.
He was so damn lucky, and he knew it. He could’ve lost you, missed out on moments like this, watching you come undone for him as he tasted you over and over again until you were a crying mess, taking you to the precipice as you writhed and begged for him to let you cum, but he wouldn't let you just yet, white knuckling the sheets and sobbing his name, pussy leaking all over his hands and mouth as your beautiful eyes rolled back, it was heaven on earth being with you like this and he’d never take it for granted. You were positive that you’d come out of your own skin if he didn’t let you come soon, pulling at his hair and pleading him with wasn’t working, and soon you were too far gone to even do that, just letting little noises out as you rolled your head back and forth and gasped his name, and finally he pulled away from you, climbing back up your body to sloppily lick into your mouth, he was covered in you and it was sinful, you couldn’t stop bucking into him and squirming and he just chuckled as he groped your chest and kissed your neck. “Jake- I get it ok, I was being a brat just- just please please fuck me, need it oh fuck please please” you couldn’t stop babbling even as he began to glide his cock through your slick, and he slid into you with no resistance, your body so wound up that you couldn’t stop, immediately clamping down on him and succumbing to your orgasm. He growled into your neck at how good you were, continuing to fuck you through it as you gushed all over him and onto the sheets, he’d been so turned on by edging you that he was hopeless to hold back his own orgasm, thrusting into you hard a few times and spilling into you, both of you sweat slicked and sated, finally feeling like maybe you’d made it through the worst of this season of life.
You’d fallen asleep shortly after, going in and out as he cleaned you up and tucked you in, promises to come back after he started the laundry. You knew it hadn’t been long because the sun was still out but when you woke his side of the bed was still made and cold, so you hobbled down the hall until you could hear him talking to someone on the phone. “I know Mama, she’s gonna be alright but I don’t know how to leave her, I’m scared to death to let her out of my sight let alone in her jet again. Yeah, they’re sending me back next week, I’m gonna do everything I can to make things easier but- I don’t know mama I can ask if she wants the company, she’s got an extra room but I don’t want to overwhelm her, I just want to keep her safe.” You could hear the rawness in his voice, and your heart broke, you weren’t ready to be without him either but he had to go back, you’d already been given too many favors and the navy wasn’t likely to give anymore. “Jake” you called to him and he fumbled with the phone and swiped his eyes, looking up at you with the saddest smile you’d ever seen. “Tell your mama I’d love to have her here, you’re right I could use the company and we are definitely overdue for the girl time.” There it was, his thousand watt smile you fell in love with, he crossed the room to scoop you in his arms and you could see the relief on his face. You swiped the phone from his hand and laughed, “Hey Mama Leigh, how about we order you that plane ticket? We’ve got all sorts of catching up to do, and you can fill me in on all Jake’s most embarrassing stories.”
Leigh Seresin was the very picture of a southern grandma, styled blonde hair and perfect makeup, but none of the catty attitude, just warmth and kindness. When you and Jake picked her up from the airport she pulled you both up into a hug, fussing at you for not using your crutches and producing a big container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She reminded you so much of your grandmother in so many ways, she wasn’t pushy but she wouldn’t let you lift a finger, making sure you were settled and then ushering Jake into the kitchen to help her make dinner as you dozed on the couch. She knew you were the one for her son, could see it on his face months ago when he’d admitted that you two were together, she wasn’t surprised one bit, she’d known for years that he had a thing for you and eventually you two would figure it out. Checking to make sure you were still asleep she dug through her never ending coach bag (Jake always called her Mary poppins because she seemed to have everything) and produced a small velvet box. “You said you wanted me to give this to you when you were ready, and I know right now may not be the right time but son one day it will be. She’s the right one sweetheart, I can feel it in my bones.” There inside the little green box was the thing he’d dreamed about putting on your finger from that very first weekend, Grandma Seresin’s vintage engagement ring. He knew he’d have to wait a little while, let you heal up all the way and see where your career took you but holding it in his hand and watching you sleep on the couch he couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place.
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Jake Seresin masterlist
Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @djs8891 @mygyn @pinkdaisies9285 @mrsevans90 @seitmai @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @86laura11 @its-the-pilot @jostan456 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @kmc1989 @nouis-bum @dempy @floydsglasses
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His Little Nurse
(Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt : Ooo can I please request a (yandere but with fluff too?) Jonathan Crane x fem!reader where she’s a nurse that works at Arkham but she’s super sweet and innocent, and she blushes and stutters every time Jonathan talks to her (he’s technically her boss). He has a soft spot for her and wants her to be his and his alone. Luckily, that’s exactly what she wants too. All it took was him bringing her into his office to say he’s reassigning what area she’s working in, as in he makes her his own personal live-in nurse rather than an Arkham nurse (for when he gets injured being the scarecrow and because he wants her all to himself! Add anything you’d like!! )
(A/N): This has ask has been marinating in my ask box for MONTHS, as well as the story in my files, I'm sorry for suddenly disappearing and taking so long to finish the story, to be fair the story was almost finished a long time ago, I just lost energy to actually wrap it up. but i hope I hope I did it justice, and that you and others will enjoy it, and sorry if I strayed a bit.
Warnings: Fluff, bullying in work, yandere tendencies, Grammatical Error (Because I didn't proof read it.)
Word Count: 6,780
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Being a nurse at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane isn't easy, mostly because you are literally trying to look after and care for insane people who had no empathy, sense of morals, or even death if they stepped too far.
When she came to interview for the job as a nurse in Arkham, they gave her and other nurses several tests to deem them good enough to work there or not, one of those tests is a test of will and patience because they made it clear that working with insane criminals will be a lot of challenges.
"Why do you think we had open positions in the first place?"
That is what Dr. Asmadeus said, which sent a chill down (Y/n)'s spine, but never the less she stayed determined and strong believing she is more than qualified and ready for the job, so you can imagine her happiness when she got a call saying she has been accepted. However, her happiness was short-lived after a few weeks of working there. (Y/n) can remember her first few weeks very clearly, not that she is ever able to forget it because it was a literal nightmare, the tests they made her endure were nothing compared to the real thing.
She was yelled at, whether it was insulting, lewd remarks, promises of painful death and horrible acts that be done to her, or just simple screeching to her face, but she took it like a champ, of course at the end of the day she might need a drink or two, but it was still nothing, and with the guards always accompanying her on her rounds it gave her confidence that no harm will come to her.
Then the random attacks happened. she would go into the cell of an insane patient who acted all nice and polite, almost making her question why were they here in the first place, even the guards weren't as alert around them as the other patients, but she guesses it's what they wanted because one second she greeted them with a smile, next second she found herself being slammed against a wall with her arm bent in an angle almost breaking it if the guards weren't fast enough she would have probably walked out with an arm cast that day.
When that incident first happens, she was told to leave early to collect her nerves since she was obviously in shock but not expect the treatment often because, after all, this is Arkham, and because of that, she decided to take night shifts for a while since odd enough it's quieter than the morning shift for even if the inmates acted up the guards will deal with them.
And that's how she met Doctor Jonathan Crane.
She was in the middle of moving medicine when she walked past his open office and caught a glimpse of him being exhausted from whatever was in the file he was examining, rubbing his eyes roughly to try and keep himself awake. Now, (Y/n) has seen Dr. Crane before, but never personally, it was always from afar and her older colleagues warned her about him, saying that he was a short-tempered and scary man, who would lash at anyone for making the smallest mistakes. Heading their warnings, she stayed away from him until that night. She decided to forget about the rumors and make a cup of coffee for him, admittedly, she was shaking the closer she got to his office, afraid that he will yell at her for interrupting his research or something, but she still stayed her ground and knocked on his door.
When she knocked on the door, he immediately closed his file and put it away, which startled her, but his moment of hurried panic died when he saw that it was just her. he let out a groan before demanding why was she there.
"I…I… I thought you may like some coffee… since you are working so hard, sir." She cursed at her shaking voice, but how can she stay calm when a pair of tired blue eyes looked at her with a frown.
However, his frown was replaced with confusion at her words.
"You brought me a coffee?" he asked, she nodded.
"Only because you saw me working?"
Another nod.
"And without ulterior motives?" he asked suspicious of her genuine gesture.
"Of course, not sir."
He must her believe her outburst of confidence because after a few seconds of staring her down, he gestured for her to put the cup on his table, which she did, and the closer she got the more intense his stare was, she felt him calculating her every move, probably was waiting for her to do something stupid to lecture her with but she stayed strong.
"Would you like anything, sir?" She asked, finally meeting his eyes.
"No," he replied not breaking eye contact.
"Very well, my shift will end in a few hours if you need anything you can inform me, after all this night seems like a slow one." She said chuckling at her own small joke but getting no reaction making her feel embarrassed.
So, she nodded to him one last time before turning to leave but as she was about to exit the room he spoke.
"Thank you for the coffee, Ms. (L/n)."
"How did you-"
"Your name tag." He said pointing at his chest to where her name tag was pinned on her.
"Oh right…" She gave him a nervous smile and just before she left, she could swear she saw a glimpse of him smiling as well.
After that, she started seeing him a bit more around. The first time he greeted her by name was in front of her colleague, asking her how was her day, and she in return asked about his night yesterday and if the coffee helped, it was a friendly chat, but her colleague was in shock, especially the ones who worked with the doctor longer than anyone, they showered her with many questions…
"What happened?"
"What did you do?"
"You went to his office without him calling?"
"You actually talked to him?"
"Did you do anything "Funny" to him?"
(Y/n) tried to answer as best as she could, saying time and time again that nothing happened and she just gave him coffee because he looked tired. But it made it hard for some to believe her words because he continued to greet her and even ask for her personally if she needed an assistant.
One day Dr. Crane came to work with a few bruises on his face that were bandaged, which made her hurry to him in panic.
"Dr. Crane, are you alright? What happened?" She asked worriedly.
"Uhm… don't worry dear it's nothing you need to worry your little head about." He replied deflecting her questions but she still pressed.
"What do you mean not to worry? You look like you were beaten up, did someone hit you? do I need to call the police?" A soft look showed in his eyes at her concern for her.
"As I said it's nothing." He repeated and petted her head before leaving for his office probably to rest.
On that day (Y/n) did her best to stay as close as possible to help him with anything or give him anything he might need, the nurse thought she was being subtle but was proven wrong when he came to her at the end of the day and thanked her for her care, making a red blush show on her face. The next day she was told that from now on she would be working under Dr. Crane, because one of his previous nurses were not “up to his level”, as she was told.
And (Y/n) was more than happy to be his nurse, her coworkers mockingly pitied her, making bets behind her back that she won’t last a day. However, a month passed and she is merrier than ever, Dr. Crane was a great boss, he was always lenient, and when she did make a mistake, he’d lecture her softly and show her how it should be done.
“Don’t laugh... But... I think I have a crush on him.” She confessed to a colleague one day during lunch.
“Oh, shocker.” Her friend replied sarcastically.
“I’m being serious here!”
“I know dear, but it’s not really news since all of us could see you stare at him the entire day with hearts in your eyes.” she said chuckling, making the girl blush.
“Is it that obvious?” She asked. “Y... You don’t...  think HE noticed... Do you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“Listen, I worked here for a long time before you came along, and aside from what everyone is saying he isn’t always that bad, he can be nice if he wants to, strict man, but fair.” Her friend started explaining. “Sorry if I sound blunt, but you are not the first he treated nicely, there were nurses before you who he tolerated.”
After that comment (Y/n) dropped the subject and focused on eating even though she had lost her appetite from the harsh words. Was Dr. Crane truly only tolerating her? He did look a bit disappointed that one time she gave him the wrong medicine, is he only being polite by making her join his crew because she was nice and gave him coffee that one night? Such questions continued to flood her mind all night that day. So, she decided to keep distant.
(Y/n) exchanged work schedules with another nurse, which means she had to work closer to inmates while her colleague worked close to Dr. Crane, (Y/n) didn’t even get through the first round before the doctor found her and demanded to know why isn’t she working at her usual post.
"I… I thought a bit of change could be nice…" She lied with a weary smile hoping he'd believe her. "For both of us."
"Well, it isn't." He dead-panned. "The other nurse was a disaster, she didn't know where my stuff was or my routine, which means that I would be forced to explain everything and I hate that."
(Y/n) looked down a bit ashamed, thinking maybe she could have at least told the other nurse a tip or two.
"Not seeing you there with a smile and a sweet good morning already threw me off and now that!"
He mumbled with a tired sigh. (Y/n) didn't know if he realized that she said it loud enough for her to hear or if he just didn't care, all she knew is that she had to fight a heavy blush as she followed him back to his office to help him resume his work. Unconsciously, that day she did her best to keep a happy smile, which seemed to pull the doctor out of his previous gloomy mood.
And even though (Y/n) still had some of her doubts about the doctor's feelings towards her she did her best to not allow it to interfere with her job again.
---
"Revaluation?" (Y/n) questioned as she followed the doctor into his office.
"Yup." He confirmed. "Since we are getting more mad criminals like that recent self-proclaimed "Scarecrow" than actual patients they decided that it would be better to replace our dear delicate nurses with… more muscle."
There was a pause for a moment as she refused to meet the eyes of the doctor as anxiety about what was to come started to build in her.
"Listen, my dear." He started earning her attention and she was met with kind eyes and a smile. "I will do my best to put out a good name for you, I maybe not be the most … well-liked… doctor on the board but at least they trust my opinion, just remember keep working hard, and don’t tell anyone about this."
"Why did you tell me then?" She asked confused.
"Because you are my very best nurse, I can't afford to lose you-.. Ouch!"
"Are you ok!?"
Dr. Crane's words were cut off when he tried to rest his forearm on the table, only to hiss in pain and jerk back.
"I'm fine." He assured before pulling his sleeve and revealing a line of bruises that were treated in a bit messy way probably because he had to do it alone.
"You are not fine!" With that said (Y/n) went to a nearby first aid kit.
"My dear, stop, I assure you I am completely fine." He tried to convince her but she refused to take no for an answer as she reached out for the injured hand, which had dodged.
There was a moment of stunt silence from (Y/n)'s end, but she didn't give up as she tried to take hold of his forearm, but he kept dodging her, flailing his arm around like a madman, but after a while (Y/n) stopped with a huff.
"Please…Let me treat you." She begged with e sad look in her eyes as she met his own, it didn't take long for the doctor to give and reveal his injury to her, again.
There was an eerie silence between them as she worked on the doctor, she was so focused on treating him that she didn't notice how he was staring down at her fondly, but he shook his head becoming stern again.
"You are too kind (Y/n), that's why I mean it when I say make sure to tell no one." He said in all seriousness, making her meet his eyes before smiling.
"Don't worry doctor, I'll tell no one."
After that, the nurse stayed for a while to make sure that the doctor was alright, before excusing herself, and just as she left she missed the look of regret that showed on his face before closing the door behind her.
---
She should have listened to him.
Against her better judgment (Y/n) let it slip one night to her best friend what is happening and what is at stake, advising that her usual slaking won't be good for her and to work harder for a while, at least until this passes. However, not long after that, she noticed how most of the nurses are starting to work harder than usual, at first she thought that maybe a rumor started about the reevaluation.
Then the bullying started, not bullying more like sabotaging.
Her colleagues started taking jobs that are meant for her, forcing her to just stand there confused about what to do or finding herself messing up medicine labels or breaking expensive equipment, which she got quite the lash for from Dr. Hugo Strange, Dr. Amadeus was strict but Dr. Hugo was ruthless, after berating her in front of her colleagues, who she caught glimpse of them snickering as she was yelled at, she ran to the bathroom where she cried herself for the rest of the shift not bothering to leave to do her work because she knew it that the other nurses were already taking her job and leaving her with nothing.
(Y/n) didn't know how long she's been there crying but she guessed it's been a very long time because a knocking on the door pulled her out and made her look around her and from the orange light that is coming out of the small bathroom window she knew it was near sunset, which means she has to leave soon. Another knock sounded and she was planning to ignore it but then a familiar face called…
"(Y/n), are you in there?" It was Dr. Crane. "You.. uhh .. Friends .. told me they saw you go in here…. I.. I also heard of what happened with Dr. Hugo… I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop him."
From the other side, Jonathan heard nothing, and doubt started to set in about if his little nurse was truly in there or not, after all, he didn't trust those other women to really keep an eye on her or even care for her. He was tempted to open the door and look inside not caring that it was a women's bathroom but he stopped when he heard the water start and a few splashes, he quickly stood back and waited patiently, and the sight that greeted him broke his heart. Even though (Y/n) tried to clean her face he could still tell that she was crying from her buffy red eyes, her slightly messy hair and dress, and the small sniffles that she tried to hide poorly.
"Oh, my dear…"
He said as he came closer with open arms to wrap around her and comfort her, which thankfully she didn't push away. She buried herself in his chest and sobbed quietly, and Jonathan said nothing as he rubbed her back in a calming matter, knowing full well that what she needed now is to let it out, at the same time he was doing his best to push away that feeling of guilt he felt and only held his little nurse tighter.
---
"I… I'm sorry for ruining your coat… *Sniff*.."
"Don't worry about it." he said as he hung the coat, which had tear stains.
Dr. Crane then walked to the small drink station in the corner of his office and came back with something for her.
"Is that (F/c/d)?" She asked surprised.
"Yeah." He replied a bit bashfully. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I might have seen you drink it after every shift you had so I thought it must have been your favorite after a hard day, so I bought some."
(Y/n) was stunned at first and she didn't know if she should feel embarrassed or flattered for being noticed by the doctor in such a way. As she took a sip of the drink she noticed how the doctor had a gentle smile but his eyes were looking at her with pity.
"… How did you know about Dr. Hugo?" She finally asked as she averted her eyes down to the drink.
Dr. Crane was silent for a moment, he was finding it difficult to explain himself, mostly hesitant if he should tell her or not how he found out.
"The other doctors and I were having a meeting about the evaluation… and .. Dr. Hugo came in with a pile of files, saying that they were the nurses who should be let go." He started explaining. "…Your name was in there…"
That made her look at him with horror in her eyes.
"I tried to plead your case, I even showed evidence of your amazing work, but Hugo seemed to have other evidence that said otherwise."
"What evidence?"
"He somehow obtained some proofs that you were "Slacking", which-"
"I wasn't slacking!" She exclaimed. "The other nurses won't let me do my job! They take everything from me, and if I refused to give up the task they would sabotage me! And.. AND!-"
"(Y/n)! Calm down! Breath, dear!"
Dr, Crane stood up from his desk to walk around and give her a handkerchief and that's when (Y/n) realized she was crying again, her frustration and anger at what she was hearing overwhelmed her, and the knowledge of knowing that she can't do anything about it, that it was too late angered her even more to the level of crying it out. She took the handkerchief and wiped her tears as she tried to calm down because she already cried enough today. There was silence as the kind doctor rubbed her back in a soothing manner waiting for her to calm down.
"I know you are not at fault." He finally said. "You are a hardworking and dedicated person, when my eyes laid on you the first time I knew you were able to do so many without a fail or hesitation, that's why I wanted you to work by me so much."
His words made her look up at him and give him a weak smile, and she knew if she wasn't feeling so sad now she would have probably ended up as a blushing mess about what he said.
"… Thank you, doctor."
He just nodded as he continued to rub her back, and she didn't mind the considered touches.
"… I'm going to be fired, aren't I?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"When will it happen?"
"Next week probably."
"… I see."
(Y/n) put her drink down and stood up, which forced the doctor to pull away.
"Thank you for everything doctor." She said with a smile, despite the redness of her eyes. "I think I will head home now."
She said as she gave the handkerchief back to her and turned around to the door. The doctor stood there for a moment wondering what to say next.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"Hmm… First I will clean up my locker, then I will take my first early leave, along with using what's left of my vacation days, I think I have more than just a week, but oh well." She shrugged accepting the reality of the situation.
"(Y/n), Wait I-"
"It's alright Dr. Crane." She assured. "There is nothing we can do about it, I will find another job somewhere else, everything will be fine in the end, and thank you for everything, Goodbye."
She exited the office and headed to the locker room, not noticing the doctor's struggle to call her but giving up in the end. Along her way, she went past her colleagues who giggled as they looked at her with an evil glint in their eyes, but she ignored them and paused for a moment when she heard the conversation that was happening in the locker room with multiple of her colleagues.
"For real?"
"Yup!"
"How did you know?"
"I hear Dr, Hugo talk about in the hallways with one of the doctors, (Y/n) will be fired."
"Hahaha! Oh my god, I can't believe it actually worked!"
"Yeah, thank god you told us about this revaluation."
"Don't mention it." That voice… It was her best friend. "I knew tolerating being around that girl would pay off, especially after seeing how cozy she was being with Dr, Crane."
"I can't believe she was ready to throw us under the bus like that, how trashy."
"I told you million times but you girls never listen." She lectured. "Her type of people won't give you what you want unless you act nice to them and then they will do everything you want, including hooking you up with how to save your job."
"You are so mean!"
Everyone laughed in unison, and that's when (Y/n) slammed the door open, ignoring the gasps and startled screams that echoed in the room as she made her way to her locker. She could feel the atmosphere thickens as everyone looks at each other awkwardly, knowing full well that she heard them. Ignoring all of them she started collecting her belongings silently, good thing she doesn't bring unnecessary stuff. As she closed the locker and started walking out she stopped in front of her so-called "Best Friend" who was stunned but tried to give a stiff smile.
"H.. Heyyy….girl-"
"Stop." (Y/n) sternly, causing the other woman to flinch and grow silent again. "Congratulations on keeping your position as a nurse and getting me fired with your friends here… and I wonder how long are you gonna keep it."
"What?" she asked in bewilderment.
"In the way that Gotham is headed, I'm sure there would be even crazier people to deal with." (Y/n) started explaining. "I mean, look at the last guy on the news, what was his name?... Yeah the scarecrow, and I'm sure there are many like him in the making."
"That just means more money for us." She replied quickly making the other laugh as if (Y/n) was being stupid.
"Did you forget the original reason why they are letting people go in the first place?" they were all stunned by her confidence, which scared them.
"They want to cut back for a while-"
"Wrong." (Y/n) interrupted. "They want more muscle, more strong people to be able to hold and drag the new inmates if need be, do you think your manicured nails and fragile self can handle that."
That made everyone shut up, (Y/n) turned to look at everyone else around her.
"The next revaluation will come soon, and when it does… who will you trust I wonder."
With that said she exited the room leaving behind her the group of toxic women who looked at each other suspiciously, but the one who got the most glares was her "Best Friend".
When she finally reached home she saw the eviction notice on the door, she was already behind and now without her job, she won't be able to. she just sighed and went inside so she can cry herself to sleep, not noticing the figure that was watching her from the corner before it disappeared.
---
"We have been observing your work for the past couple of months and noticed how your performance has been lacking, which forced your colleagues to pick up after you, therefore we decided that you are no longer needed."
That was what doctor Asmadeus said as he continued the pressure of firing (Y/n), there were moments when she wanted to defend herself against the accusations thrown at her but decided against it as they might take it as a sign that it was all true. She turned around and gave one last look at the building and from afar on one of the windows she caught the sight of Dr. Crane who waved goodbye to her and she smiled and waved back to him.
Before she left the doctor hurried to her side and gave her a card with his number on it when asked why he said she could use him as a reference for future jobs because he is sure that if she used any of the other doctor's info they might say some…. Harsh things, which would lower her chances of getting a new job, and (Y/n) was grateful for him.
She really liked Dr. Crane, not just as a coworker or friend, but far more than that, before all of this had happened she was contemplating whether she should tell him or not, aside from the hesitation she was also waiting for the right moment to blur it out but then all of that had happened and now as she made her way to the bus stop she thought it would be a miracle if she even saw the doctor again.
---
Who knew a miracle can happen so soon only one week after?
It was during grocery shopping that she met the doctor. They talked for a bit catching up on everything new that happened, Doctor Crane told her of how more trouble shown with the nurses after she left, a lot of lacking and sabotaging, and because of it, they started considering firing all of them and replacing them with strong men to handle the patients better, which made (Y/n) bite her tongue and wonder if what she said to them before she left had anything to do with all of it. When he asked her about herself she was tempted to say that everything was great, but she couldn't.
She started confessing how she has been struggling to find a job, and how she might lose her home as well because of it. Doctor Crane was sympathetic to her, but his frown quickly turned into a smile as he thought of an idea.
"You can come to my building!" He exclaimed.
"What?"
"The building I live in I mean…" He started to explain. "We got open apartments, the rent is cheap, and I know the landlord personally I can ask him to ease up on you for a while until you are up on your feet again."
"Oh no, I can't possibly ask you to go through so much trouble for me-"
"It's not and I insist." He replied refusing a no for an answer.
"I… I don't know what to say…"(Y/n) stuttered. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it, dear, we can talk about this tomorrow if you want." He hesitated for a moment before continuing with a bashful smile. "Maybe over lunch? I know a good diner."
That took (Y/n) by surprise, looking away for a moment embarrassed and hoping that her blush wasn't showing, not believing that he was actually asking her out now, she still wondered if it was because he was interested or if it was genuinely to talk about the apartments, but none the less smiled back and agreed to meet him for lunch.
---
Almost a month had passed since (Y/n) moved into her new apartment, which was a floor apart from Doctor Cra- … Jonathan's. He had insisted that she stops addressing him so formally since they are now friends and neighbors now and it has been a blessing. They meet by the stairs almost every morning, Jonathan going to work and her going to job interviews, which each one failed. She never understood what she had done wrong even checked her resume with Jonathan and he said there was nothing wrong, another reason was that she wasn't comfortable with the people in charge and didn't want to set around and find out why.
The thing that has been keeping her positive is when her and Jonathan meet up at the diner, which is rare considering how late he has to work, so she always looks forward to it, even if they only went as friends. (Y/n) tried many times to build up the courage to confess her feelings for the doctor, but every time she would get scared, and worried because of the possibility of him not returning her feelings, and ruining what is between them now.
She sighed as she entered the building and made her way up the stairs, thinking of ways to make this crush of hers die when she heard a distance groaning, she paused waiting to make sure what she heard was true and it came again a distance groan of pain followed by a fall, feelings it as an instinct (Y/n) ran up the stairs as fast as she could and she was not ready for the sight that greeted her.
"Ugh… (Y/- (Y/n)?"
Jonathan's weak voice asked, and she didn't blame him for asking for his glasses were missing and his right eye was bruised, his lower lip is busted, his clothes were torn and ruffled up, he was supporting his left arm, which she was afraid is broken and from his struggle to stand up but making it all the way here she can tell that it was probably twisted.
"Jonathan!" She exclaimed as she hurried to his side, helping him rest on the stairsteps properly, earning a pained groan in response. "What happened?!"
"Burglars." He answered. "They cornered me after I got out of my car."
"Oh god…" (Y/n) said as she examined him further, noticing the bruises hidden by his shirt. "We need to get you to a hospital-"
"No need." He interrupted her. "I.. I just need to get back to my apartment, I got everything I need there."
"But your arm, what if it was broken."
"Believe me it's not, I would know." He joked, trying to make light of the situation, but (Y/n) didn't smile.
"At least let me help you, please."
Jonathan wanted to say something but gave in and allowed her to take his good arm and flung it around her neck as she supported him to go up the stairs and into his apartment. (Y/n) been to his apartment before so after helping him set on the sofa she went to the cabin where Jonathan kept his medical tools and medicine and she hurried back to him doing her best to treat him. In her focus she didn't notice how the doctor was not breaking his stare, admiring the young woman, it wasn't until she decided to pay attention to his busted lower that she realized his lingering stares, which made a red blush show on her cheeks and her hand to slightly shake.
"H… How are you feeling?" She asked trying to shift the mood.
"I'm better now." He answered still not breaking eye contact.
"Are you sure?... isn't there any type of pain?"
"With your gentle care? Never."
There he goes again with his sweet words that made her heart skip a beat. (Y/n) held her tongue and said nothing as she did one last check on him.
"You thankfully don't have any broken bones or torn muscles but that doesn't mean you don't need to rest." She said before standing up. "I advice you to skip work for a while until you get better."
"R… Right, thank you."
"You are welcome."
Jonathan looked troubled, he looked at her and then at the ground as he was struggling to say something, or more like hesitant. (Y/n) stood there for a while, waiting for him to say anything, but after almost a minute passed with nothing she started cleaning the place.
"I will put the meds away and-"
"Will you be my nurse?!"
He blurted it so suddenly catching (Y/n) off guard, she stared at him with wide confused eyes, not sure if what she heard was right.
"What?"
"I… I was asking .. If you would like to be my nurse." He explained hesitantly. "A personal nurse, Not a servant! Of course not, I mean you would be helping me when I need you but only when I'm hurt no other things."
(Y/n) stood there for a moment, processing what he just said, which made Jonathan's anxiety ride with every moment of silence, then she finally talked.
"…Why?"
"Well, You see, I'm actually really accident-prone, and sometimes like now, I can be a magnet for trouble."
He gave a small laugh as he averted his eyes, which made (Y/n) pity him because she remembers the bruises he came with in the past, the bandages would be done wrong and it's understandable since he can't possibly do it with an injured arm or shoulder, she always asked him what happened but he always changed the subject and she didn't push, just offered her help.
"How often does this happen?" she asked gesturing to his body.
"More than you think." He answered. "Some days I can go with a couple of bruises, others I have to take a few days off until I'm sure I won't lose my balance when I stand."
His voice became sad at the end as he looked down at his now bandaged foot.
"It can be really difficult I won't lie, But!" He looked back at her with a spark in his eyes. "When you came along it made it easier, not only are you brilliant and talented in your work, but you are also very kind and sweet. Seeing your comforting smile never failed to make me forget about my sour day."
(Y/n)'s eyes widened at his confession and from the blush that was growing on Jonathan's face as he averted his eyes she guessed it was genuine and sudden even for him.
"You don't have to answer now, think about it and take all the time you need." He said still not meeting her eyes as he picked on his bandaged hand.
The doctor was always this serious man, who always stood tall refusing to show any weakness, and for (Y/n) to see him allowing himself to be vulnerable and act all shy around him gave her mixed feelings, because she didn't know if she wanted to admire him further, or her herself would also become a ball of shyness because all of this is almost overwhelming for her. However, she needed to think about this seriously, she has just been offered a job by her previous supervisor to be a personal nurse, and despite her knowing the doctor well and trusting him, it still felt strange and wrong for some reason.
"… How will you be able to pay me?" She finally asked, this caught his attention and made him straighten up and set his work mode.
"Don't worry, having you as my personal nurse won't have any effect on my finance if that's what your concern is." When he saw the dissatisfaction in her eyes with his answer her explained. "Let's just say that I have good money saved up that with it I could even leave Gotham for good if I wanted to."
"Then why don't you?"
"Well, at first it was because I liked my job… but now…" He gave her a soft look as he smiled. "I have a different reason to stay."
(Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly at his implications as a blush started to form on her face. He can’t be saying what she thought he was trying to say? It almost feels too good to be true. Not trusting herself to stay any longer, fearing that she would embarrass herself in some way, (Y/n) started to collect her things and made sure to keep the medicine close to Jonathan and brought him the tea that she prepared when they first came back.
“I’ll leave you to rest, please sleep well.”
She said as she put the tea cup down but before she could pull away the doctor grasped her hand gently forcing her to look at him, her eyes meeting his own that looked at her with such adoration.
“Promise me to think about it?” He asked hopefully.
“I…I will…” she replied with a small smile.
“Very well.” He said before leaning in to kiss the back of her hand. “Good night, my dear.”
“G..G…GOOD NIGHT!”
(Y/n) Yelped out before pulling her hand away as if she was electrocuted and marched outside the apartment to her own. While she was lecturing herself on how she basically ran away from the doctor, Jonathan was chuckling to himself, finding her sudden reaction adorable. He stood up with ease, showing no hint of previous weakness, making his way to the mirror to admire the bandages and patches that his beloved little nurse treated him with.
Oh, she was so sweet, so so sweet maybe even too sweet for Gotham, but that’s where he comes in. He will be her protector, her aid, and soon her love. Jonathan knew from the first time he saw her work that she was too talented and brilliant to be working under anyone else but himself, but he never expected to grow a soft side for her, and for that soft side to become full-on possessiveness and obsession. She filled his every thought, whenever she got too far away from him he became relentless, and he will not start on the jealousy he felt when her attention was on someone other than himself, but he knew she couldn't help it, she is an innocent person who always made friends along her way.
That's why it hurt to see the sad look in her face when he let it "slip" that (Y/n) knew of the revaluation, he was going to make it pass as a rumor because he knew the true nature of the other nurses who worked there, that they will drive (Y/n) away for his plans to work, but he didn't think his dear was too kind that she would not head his warning and tell her supposed "friend" of it all. In the end, it worked for his favor, because she turned to him for comfort and trusted only him.
He almost asked her to be his nurse on the same day she was fired, but it was good that he held back for a while for her to be disparate for work enough, and when she told him that she needed a new home, it was as if fate herself was making sure that their paths would intertwine into one path that they would walk through together.
Yes, it was all meant to be this way.
(Y/n) is meant to be his, his sweet innocent nurse, who'd take care of him and always be by his side. His alone.
He just needs to continue this act of a helpless man a bit more before opening himself for her, maybe with time he'd even tell her about his "side job". But not now or anytime soon. For now, he just needs to focus on making sure that in the end (Y/n) would fall into his arms.
Even if he needs to take extreme measures, he will have her.
---
I hope everyone enjoyed this story and again sorry if it's too late.
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Text
where Simon grapples with futility
PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Chef F!Reader 
WARNINGS: 18+ only.  angst, smut, more angst. on the menu we have mutual pining (main) and the kind of ex sex we all wish we were having (side), bon appétit, the chef needs a long nap!
LENGTH: 3.5k
When you ask him to leave, he does.  The whole thing reminds him of the time he’d crawled out of a grave.
< Prev Part || Next Part >
_____
Being a ghost is easy.  
Being Ghost is easy.  
Disappearing into the job, planning an op, the mindless bureaucracy in his role as Lt Riley—easy.  Too easy.  It’s second nature to him, so much so that he can do it almost mindlessly.  After all, it has the welcome effect of taking his mind off other things.  
Being Ghost allows him to be himself for once.  The version of him that he’s spent a decade carving and chiselling into perfection.  The version of him that is lethal and feared, has a reputation amongst his enemies.  
The antithesis of the version that fell in love with a woman, broke her heart and then ran.
The pen in his hand snaps, and Simon flings the pieces across the room.  But even that doesn’t feel satisfying, coming off instead like he’s putting on an act—as though rage should be the primary emotion inside him at that moment.  
But it’s not.  
The complete silence from you is claustrophobic, so much so that it taints the hope in his chest—making it feel heavy and stifling.  It keeps him waiting for a text or a call that never comes, and he wonders if there’s a chance of losing his mind from just waiting when he doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for.           
You’ve left him to his devices—just like you’d implied you would when you asked him to leave.  But it’s quiet in a way he’s never experienced before—like having a heavy weight on his chest, getting used to it, liking it even, and then coming apart at the seams when it’s gone.
Though, of course, Simon knows exactly what’s been taken from him.  He’s no Atlas, and the burden he carries is nothing noble.  No, what Simon carried, carries, makes him feel the most weightless he’s ever felt—what he carries is as painfully inevitable as it is as effortless as breathing.  What he feels for you seeps into his bones, infusing his marrow, but Simon’s still just left not knowing what to do with it.  
And somewhere inside his chest where his heart should be, he feels a dull ache, though he struggles to understand why.   When all was said and done, he’d known all along that the outcome was unavoidable.  Finding someone like you was outside the realm of possibility for someone like him, but he had.  He’d found you. 
And fuck.  He’d had you.  
He’d found you and he’d had you for two years—your kindness and your patience, your compassion, and the fire inside you that even someone as cold as him couldn’t extinguish.  And even though having someone like you should have been impossible, it had turned out to be this extraordinary, invaluable thing to him.  But even Simon would not deny that he’d known all along that the way it had ended was unavoidable.  
He tries to shake the thought of you from his head as though you’re a physical object that resides there.  As though he isn’t made painfully, acutely aware of how much he resents your absence every time his heart beats.  As though you don’t haunt him in every act of kindness he witnesses around him—in the doctors that stitch him up on base time after time, paying little regard to both his catatonic demeanour and recklessness in the field.  In Soap when the antsy Scot lingers around him like a dog guarding its wounded master, and even in Price when Simon is scrutinised over plumes of smoke with hard eyes that know too much.    
All he has left of you now is a photo and a void in his chest where your touch should be.   
Sometimes he imagines free falling without a parachute—seeing the ground fly closer up to him, the awareness that both the speed of descent and the force of the impact will compete to break his body.  He imagines why, then, all that time ago, with the full knowledge of what it would do to him, he chose to fall anyway. 
He feels like he should have a thousand things to think about, a thousand things he should ask himself, be haunted by a thousand scenarios in his mind from how that day should have gone.  Instead, his mind rebels against everything to do with you, everything to do with that day and chooses to turn it inwards—what was he expecting?    With everything he knew about himself, what was he expecting was going to happen?
At the end of it all, it’s neither the speed of descent nor the force of impact that breaks you, Simon learns.  It’s the tragedy of feeling helpless, even in the face of something completely preventable; it’s the knowledge that you’re going to fling yourself off a great height even while your feet stay planted firmly on the ground.
____
Surrender feels miasmic. 
If he’d thought his death would be easy, if he’d thought surrendering to the inevitable would feel like coming home, he was sorely mistaken.  
It blows noxious fumes into the back of his throat and makes him choke, leaving behind the bitter taste of burning metal and his failures.  For even one with his pseudonym, the reputation he had and the life he’d lived, impending death felt like his nostrils were being razed by bleach, blood and sweat.  Impending death sounded like Soap MacTavish shouting hoarsely, desperately in his ear.
Simon Riley’s last thought is of your hair.  
He thinks of a particular Sunday you’d spent together—you’d cooked for him and he’d been the most relaxed he’d ever allowed himself to be in your company.  And when you’d stepped out of the shower that afternoon, he’d stopped breathing.  
With the steam escaping the bathroom at your back and in the stream of afternoon sunshine from the open window of your bedroom, you’d glowed.  Clad in nothing but a towel, your shoulders still wet from the shower and your hair?  Fuck, your hair looked like a halo around your face and you were laughing at something on your phone and looking up at him with eyes full of lo—
____
His eyes open with the rising sun, and you’re there. 
You’re holding his hand securely between both of yours, and your head rests on the bed next to them.  You’re sitting beside his bed in a wooden chair that looks rickety and uncomfortable and your neck bends at an unnatural angle with your hair obstructing your face entirely, but it’s you.  It’s you.
He doesn’t even bother wondering why you’re here—he knows, of course.  It’s the very reason he knows he’d drop whatever he was doing, no matter what it was and even if he was on the other side of the world, if anything ever happened to you.  He knows.
He finds the strength to stroke your hair with the hand not currently trapped underneath yours, feels the strands of your hair underneath his fingertips.  Allows the familiar sensation to ground him, savours something he’d thought he’d never have again.  Allows himself to get carried away by what he feels for you, usually hidden deep in his chest.  A love that has always felt stifled and weary, that now feels wide awake and alert, allowed to take a deep breath in the crisp morning air.  Finally, finally.
You jerk awake with a start.     
____
Pneumothorax, the doctors tell him.  His broken rib had punctured his lung.  Contusion.  Countless injuries that marr his body, a broken finger and a brand new wound extending from his shoulder to the middle of  his back, but these are nothing new.  
They also tell him that all of them got out alive.  He didn’t lose a single one of his men, but if not for Soap MacTavish, Lt Riley would’ve been the one they lost.
And he has to smile at that, because Simon Riley really lives far away from all of it—from the war and the smell of gunpowder and smoke and sulphur, and the ever present threat of a bullet in his chest.  No, Simon Riley lives in a small flat in grey, wet London where he watches movies and rubs feet and brings coffee in bed to the woman he loves.   Simon Riley is already lost to them, has been lost for a long time (two years, he concedes in his mind), they just don’t know it.  
And more importantly, you don’t know it.
____
It’s days before he sees you again.  He’s been home for a month when you turn up at his door with two cups of coffee and eyes full of fury.
Simon watches with his heart in his throat as you pointedly sit on the far side of his couch, the corner that is the furthest away from him, and you look down at your coffee as though it holds all the answers.
For a long time you don’t speak, but Simon doesn’t mind.  His eyes drink you in and he tries to memorise all the little details about you he can’t believe he could have forgotten.  But he doesn’t notice the tears running down your face in a constant stream until you open your mouth to speak.   
“I can’t stop thinking about how you could’ve died.”
He murmurs your name, softly, trying to remind you that you didn’t have to agonise over something that hadn’t happened, but the sound of his voice makes you sob.  It’s only when you look up at him that he really sees you.  
You’re…different.  You look tired and your face is drawn, looking almost gaunt.  You aren’t sleeping or eating or both, he realises in horror.  You look weary—the kind of bone tired that can only be inflicted by heartache.
“You’re so…you’re everything.  And they kept telling me that you’d be okay, that you’d been through worse—worse!—and Johnny said that you’d never quit fighting, but your heart went into arrhythmia, Simon, you could’ve died!  And I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
Simon decides that the distance between you is just not acceptable any more.  A couple of strides and he’s by you, dropping to his knees by your feet and holding your hands tight in his.  “I’m okay, love, m’right here,” he murmurs, because what else is there to say?  
“Yeah.”  Your whisper is harsh and biting.  “You’re okay, now.  But when I saw you…”  You shake your head as if to physically clear whatever image your mind’s eye had conjured up.  “How are you feeling?”
“I…didn’t expect to see you here,” he whispers back.
Simon feels the exact instant that you register the meaning behind his words, because you glare up at him with a rage he’s never seen in your eyes before.  
“What?  What is that supposed to—you listed me as your next of kin, Simon!  YOU did that.   They called me!”
“Sweetheart–”
“No!  All those months ago, when I asked you, you freaked out and left me when you could have just told me the truth!”  
“N-not officially, not on any record.  Only a few people know, I swear I wouldn’t—”
“You wouldn’t what, Simon?  All of that palaver for my supposed safety, pretending that people knowing about me would be too dangerous, and after all this time I get contacted by your boss as your only living family?  I just don’t understand—why did you lie to me?”  He watches as you sob quietly, one hand flying up to your chest as if to self-soothe, and Simon doesn’t think he’s ever felt the kind of hurt he does in that moment.
“Didn’t think you’d find out this way.  Didn’t think you’d ever find out.”
You nod slowly and he watches you wipe your tears and harden your eyes.  Despite the situation, despite all of it, there is a sense of pride in his chest.  You may look tired and furious and maybe a bit beaten down but you’re strong.  The strongest person he knows.
“I waited for you.  I waited for months and months and you never came.  You never called, you never bothered to even—”
Simon’s shaking his head before you’re even done talking.  “You said y’were done.  S’what you wanted.  You wanted me to leave.”
You look at him with wounded eyes that make him wince and look away.  “And why was that, Simon?  Why do you think I said I was done?  Have you considered that it’s maybe because you told me that you didn’t want this?  Or maybe because being with you was torture, never knowing what you really felt?”
“I still feel—”
“Or maybe, Simon.  Maybe it’s because there’s no place in your life for someone like me, because you expect me to put my life on hold while you take what you need from me, and meanwhile I’m just supposed to…what?  Wait for you forever?   Or wait for you to decide I’m worth your effort?”
“Stop,” Simon begs.  “This…I’d never done this before—”
But you’re done with his excuses, done letting him lead this fucked-up narrative.  “Neither have I, Simon.  I’ve never done this before either.  I’ve never felt what I felt for you.  All this time, I—”  You cut yourself off and he watches as you squeeze your eyes shut.  “I came here to talk to you today.  Because there are some things I need to get off my chest, but there are also some things you need to hear, Simon.”
Simon’s heart drops to his feet as he watches you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.  This is it, he thinks.  The real beginning of the end.  
“I thought I would be with you and support you and be there for you, no matter what.  And I realise now how naive that sentiment is, when I didn’t even know the “what” I was willing to be there for was.  I don’t know anything about you, and that’s on me.  Because I never asked—”
“Wouldn’t ‘ave told you, dove,” Simon interjects.  
“Regardless.  I never asked.”
“How does it matter if the end result is the same?”
You sigh and your eyes drift to the ceiling in frustration, but the cadence of your voice, soft, even, but full of conviction, never changes.  “It matters to me, Simon.  I was planning a future with you, when I don’t even know who you are.  And that’s on me,” you repeat, firmly.  “All you did was pull me in and push me away.  You did this for two years because of your reasons, but I’m to blame too.  I let you do this to me.  I allowed it.”
Against all reason, Simon suddenly feels the need to defend himself.  “I never promised—”
“Agreed.  You never promised me anything.  You never said the words, Simon, but I know what I felt.  And you know what you projected.”  A beat of silence.  “I’m not blaming you.  I find myself wanting to but then I just feel…tired.  I’m tired, Simon.  Of all of it.”
You sigh, seemingly having run out of steam.  “I want this.  I never stopped wanting this.  But, I can’t do this the way we have been.   The lies and the secrecy and the hot and cold thing, I can’t do it.  I can’t keep going on like this.”
If Simon could describe what he felt, if there was someone he could talk to about this—if he was capable of talking about this—he’d say that it felt like what’d he’d been put through by Roba.  He’d say it was like when he’d had to crawl out of a grave.  He’d had the same feeling of hopelessness and claustrophobia back then, the knowledge that he had a finite amount of breaths left but they were nowhere near enough.
“I know I can live without you.  I have been living without you…but you should know that it’s not what I want.  I want more.  And this time, I want it all the way.  Or not at all.”
Your words sting him.  You don’t know it—you couldn’t—but Simon was trying.  Simon was giving you everything he could, making himself vulnerable in a way he never had before, not even before Roba.  He’d given you his name, his face, his body, his heart, and somewhere along the line, he’d given you a version of himself that only belonged to you now. 
He could ask for more time, more of your unconditional love, more of your patient understanding, but it just felt like asking for more and more and more, and Simon wasn’t willing to ask you for anything any more.
Lie, a particularly ghastly part of him whispers in his ear.  Lie and promise her whatever she wants and worry about it later!
With his fading integrity on the line, he swallows his selfishness and says as much, watching as his words drain the hope from your face and your eyes become bright with unshed tears.  But he has to close his own eyes when you speak.
“All this time, I thought, maybe now he’ll want this.  Maybe…maybe the space would make him realise that we’re better together.  I had all these, I could call them hopes, but really, they were just delusions.  I had delusions about a future for us where you realise that we can work things out, no matter how impossible they may seem.”
“It’s not…fuck!”  Simon feels a sudden fury at himself in his chest that makes him push away from you and get on his feet.  “You're right.  You don’t know who the fuck I am!  You don’t know what I’m capable of, or the things I’ve done!  You don’t know anything.  And I don’t know how to keep you alive and be with you.”
There’s a defeated smile on your lips, almost like, despite your words, you were expecting this from him.  “You’re not responsible for keeping me alive, Simon and you’ve—”
“Like fuck m’not!  I see you once every few months and we fuck, and that’s it.  S’all I can do for you.  I won’t give you more.”
“You won’t give me more?”   
“No, love.  Because I’d rather y’were alive.  Much much more than how much we both want this.”  
He watches as you sigh, and stand up too.  There is nothing further to be said, it seems, but you walk to him anyway.  A gentle hand comes up to palm his cheek and your eyes shimmer with tears, but none drop.  “I love you so much, Simon.  It’s…a privilege to know you and love you the way I do.  But I won’t live for you.”  A sad smile tugs at your lips.  “I-I used to think that mask you wear?  It was like a crutch that you needed.”
 “N’ now?”
“And now I know that it’s not.  The mask isn’t the crutch.”  You lean up to kiss his cheek and run a loving hand through his hair.  “I’ll go.”  
You’re almost at the door when he opens his mouth to speak.  “Will you stay?  For tonight?”
Your answering sigh is more resignation than relief. 
____
He doesn’t bother undressing himself.  He doesn’t think he could, he’s as exposed to you as he can be in that moment, but when he strips you, he does so carefully, and with a reverence he’s never shown anyone or anything in his life before.  He’s not immune to your tears when you kiss him—his own eyes burn—but Simon’s determined to make the most of this last time.  And he knows that this is the last time he’ll have this— the feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips, the soft caress of your sighs against his mouth, how it feels when he’s buried inside you.  
When you lie on your back in his bed, all he can think about is how you look like you belong there, like this is where you always ought to be.  When he’s in between your legs, he thinks of the familiarity of it all, the comfort, the ie feeling of everything in his world being right in that moment.
And when he’s finally buried to the hilt inside you, you cry out and clutch at him, your eyes streaming.  He wipes them away and murmurs at you softly to soothe you, but it’s futile.  When you wrap your legs around his waist and hold his face in your hands, he can’t help but feel like the universe must have stalled its motion.  
How could the same universe that birthed you continue to entropy, continue to expand into nothingness?  You’re right here, infusing life and light and reason into a living corpse. There is no way that you’ve changed his life so fundamentally—changed him in the way that you have—and the kindness of it, the love in your actions hasn’t permanently frozen the universe in its tracks.  
When you come, it’s with a broken cry of his name, your back arching and your head thrown back, but Simon can’t yet bear to stop touching you so he moves his lips from yours to your jaw, kisses your face, murmurs to you.
Fresh tears fall when you hear what he says.            
When Simon comes, he tries to keep his eyes open and on you through it, because this is it.  He knows that when you leave, you’ll take the heat inside him with you.  You’ll take all the light and love and all the softness you gave him with you.  He fails.        
And when his eyes open with the rising sun, he’s alone.
____
A/N:  Yes, this was a bonus Simon Riley POV chapter.  No, this will never happen again. 
Almost at the end folks. Hang in there!
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trek-tracks · 3 months
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hello! I am also diabetic (type one). I’m curious if when you think of star trek or yourself in Star Trek if you imagine having diabetes still? I think either way is valid, just curious. I go back and forth trying to figure out if they would have cured it or just advanced insulin pumps to the point of being practically seamless with day to day life. For me being diabetic is so integral to my personality I kind of don’t know if I would like to think of it as being cured? It’s cool if you don’t want to answer too! Just thought I’d ask :)
This is an interesting question.
I've always thought about my type one diabetes as being solidly on the second end of the disability "spectrum," so to speak, where the first end is "this is integral to my personality and who I am, accommodate but do not 'cure' me," and the second is "this brings nothing but pain to my life, please cure me immediately."
The only accommodation that would fully make my life better, in my opinion, (which is only my opinion about my own disability), is either a functional cure (artificial pancreas) or actual cure (no machinery necessary), the latter of which I would prefer, because frankly I'm sick of wearing a pump and a cgm 24/7 and the sheer amount of waste it produces, which is not my fault because I need to live, but still weighs heavily on me (and takes up a large amount of space in my apartment). Not to mention the scheduling--this message brought to you by me being woken up at 5am by an empty insulin pump and realizing that, no, I don't seem to have any unused cartridges left, so I have to use an old one and pray that the pump accepts it while waiting for the delivery of the supplies I just now ordered, which cost $750.
When I think about a life in the Star Trek universe, I can really only think about being transferred there now, as I am, with the life I have led, and I think that's what also shapes my decision. If I had been born into the Star Trek universe, there are so many aspects of my personality that might have been different, considering I wouldn't have to worry about scarcity and affordability of, for example, housing. Instead of being a theatre critic as a second job that feeds my soul but doesn't pay the bills, I'd probably be a playwright/dramaturg/critic full time. However, I might find not having a job outside of the theatre world to be detrimental, because when people don't have lives outside of theatre, their writing tends to get smaller and more insular.
This is a digression, but what I mean is: I can only see me as I am now joining a Starfleet world, rather than trying to envision the person I would be if I'd begun my life there. I mean, I certainly wouldn't be known for making memes about Star Trek, the TV show, if Star Trek were reality instead of entertainment, so things would be different in a number of ways. I can't even think about all the ways my life could have been different in this reality without getting a headache.
In that case, I have learned a lot from being diabetic, including patience and empathy for other people, and a strong sense of social justice. I've learned a lot about food and exercise and how they affect the body. I've learned responsibility and self-management. I've made more peace with aging than many of my friends, because I've felt prematurely "old" (aches, pains, contemplation of mortality) since I was a preteen. I think I would have some form of these things without diabetes, but my worldview would likely be different. In a way, I'm grateful for these lessons, and I don't know if born-into-Star-Trek me would be insufferable.
That being said, I firmly believe that having diabetes for more than 25 years means that diabetes has taught me all about life it's going to teach me. I'm done. If I were to wake up tomorrow without it, I'd, in the words of Beyond McCoy, "throw a party." A party with plenty of cake. Or, to misquote The Voyage Home, "The doctor gave me a pill, and I grew a new pancreas!"
Now that it's part of me, its absence might leave me somewhat adrift, but I think of all the time I've lost to it where I could have been enjoying life and been allowed to be the unfettered me I desired to be, and I say, good riddance.
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