#they repeat the phrase 'leave me alone' too much for comfort
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The dropouts (part 1)
Masterlist
Genre: Angst, action, occasional comfort, smut at the very start
Pairing: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova (OC) x Nikto
Summary: Nikto is quite calm about the fact, that one day he will die on a battlefield. Until he meets his death.
TWs: This whole series will be revolving around a person living with an acute dissociative disorder. This is a serious condition and people living with it deserve nothing but endless love and any help, they personally would want. That be said, this is a work of fiction, nothing more.
AN: For those of you, who are asking themselves what the hell is going on and how we ended here - this is my take on how would Olgas life look like in a universe, where she doesn't end up with Nikolai. Her series with Nik are not over, don't worry. He's my №1 for my girl! I was planning to a completely other character for her, but my dear @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot came and said 'hey, NIKTO'. And I thought, why the hell not, since he almost killed her in the original series. So if I am allowed - I would dedicate this series to my friend Chris, who keeps reminding me, that healing is an option. Even when both of them are a mess.
“What's the color of your death's eyes.” Sasha descends on his length, her breath hitches and then her breasts flinch with a sharp inhale.
Her words: half a tease, half a pep talk, doesn't awake any respond. Nikto is too deep in his thoughts to let a single sound slip past his lips. He should consider himself lucky for having someone like Sasha. She's always hungry for him, but not as much as to demand more than these occasional nights. She is a brave little thing - doesn't hold abomination for what is left of his face. So what if their lips never meet - it cuts no ice as long as he can grab her thighs greedily and drive her closer to his calloused torso.
He doesn't need this uplifting ‘your death is non-existent’ chatter today. Fuck death when he's got this little thing. Or better: fuck her, until she forgets her own eyes color.
The morning after catches Nikto alone - they don't have that much to talk about after the deed is done, so Sasha tend to leave him as soon as possible. The only thing, she leaves him is a weak scent of her perfume on his pillow.
Nikto checks his phone and squints at the bright display. It's five in the morning - too early to start the preparations for their next operation. He is not stupid enough to come to the weaponry before others. König will charge the first soldier he sees there with inventory control for the whole squad. And Nikto would sooner find out the color of his deaths eyes than take a part in that bullshit.
***
All the noises die as soon as familiar footsteps and a ‘good morning, Chimeras’ reach soldiers ears. Commander Zhar usually don't like to repeat twice when it comes to final debriefing.
“Our intel stays confirmed: the East group is preparing five containers of illicit arms and chemicals. The trade is going to take place at the former Vyshera base. Neither of the trading parties awaits major problems, they want things to go smooth and nice. And I want their toys. Not a half of them, like the last time, mind you!” Olga looks her soldiers in the eyes, making sure, they get her message. “Every last one of their containers belongs to Chimera. And we are to deliver these news.”
While others are boarding on a plane, Zhar slows down near Nikolai. One pair of concerned glances shared is louder than any words.
“If KorTac steps in - extract people and-” She tries to talk fast enough to end the phrase, but Nik still cuts her out.
“I am not letting you fight a bloody army alone, Olga.”
“And I am giving them neither my people nor my catch. I accepted your job offer on one condition…” the first notes of anger appear in her voice.
“I know, I know. You work for me as long as I don't hold you back.” Nik holds up his hands in a surrounding gesture. “But I don't want you to fight every day as if there was no tomorrow, ok? I want you around in a week and a month after that, and years after.”
Zhar shakes her head and takes a step past Nik, but he catches her shoulder.
“You didn't survive that hell only to die here, soldier. Not as long as I'm in charge. If things go south - I'm waiting for you to return, or I'm dragging you back with my own hands.”
***
Nikto is waiting patiently until the Colonel recalls his existence, but König keeps assigning other soldiers to comb through different parts of the Vyshera base, ignoring him. Nikto follows them with his gaze and huffs each time, when someone gets an especially ‘hot’ piece of base. He wishes, it was him descending to the pitch black suffocating hell of the cellars, or facing a bloody chopper, these Chimera bastards brought with them.
He would never admit it, not even before the Firebrand, his best friend. But Nikto is tired. So tired, he wishes, this was his last mission ever. He wouldn't betray his company, he would fight tooth and nail for them until the very end. It is only that now, something deep inside him craves this very end to come sooner.
Still, he gets nothing. Not even a walk around the base. Nikto throws an angry gaze at his boss, but remains silent as yet another soldier leaves their transport. Time flows so slowly, that he barely holds back a big yawn.
“Nikto? How's your leg?” For the first time König addresses to him.
His leg? Damn, he got shot weeks ago, and Colonel still worries about it? Pathetic. Nikto is a bloody animal - one scratching bullet is not enough to throw him away from the fight. He springs up on his two and takes his gun out.
“Tell me, whose head you want, boss.”
***
The air around him smells like smoke and blood, a metallic taste tingles on his tongue, as he waits for the right moment to strike. Sounds of a huge fight echo in every corner of an old base. Nikto located a group of mercs, securing the area around the container and set the traps on their possible way out nicely. All that is left is to nudge them, send these idiots running in the right direction.
His anticipation is overshadowed by a subtle figure circling the perimeter around the container. This one seems like their executive, since the others keep reporting to them. Nikto tried to take a better look at that person, but they evaded any open sight as soon as he took his binoculars.
“Two mafia groups, god knows, how many merc teams fighting for a juicy bone… and then there's you, little shit, hiding from Nikto?” He mumbles to himself, as he's used to. The subtle figure freezes for a moment and looks up, right at the gap between two dilapidated walls, where Nikto is waiting. It's impossible to notice him from that far with all the smoke and dust dancing between them. It should be impossible, isn't it?
He doesn't see their eyes, but a single feeling of their gaze finding him, taking a hold of his figure, sends shivers down his body. Nikto recoils and presses his back to a far wall, hiding from their sight. He takes a deep breath and lets his nerves settle.
“Just seeing shit. They would see. Wouldn't see it coming.”
Nikto spends not more than a few minutes away from his watching post. But when he returns - an angry hiss leaves his chest.
His enemies were leaving. Not in the direction, he planned for them to leave. And the worst part - that little shit stood alone in the middle of a now empty space, looking in his direction.
“You will regret this, poor bastard.” Niktos voice drops low as he turns back and jumps down the rubble, starting his hunt. “You will die slowly!”
When he first reaches his enemy - Nikto is already determined to not shoot them. Oh no, he wants their agony, their tears. He wants them to see their own guts, before they go. So he opts from a gun to a knife.
His opponent fires a few rounds in his direction. Not so much to actually harm him - it feels, as if they just try to keep Nikto at a distance. Still, he pursues his target with relentless determination. The smaller figure, agile as a wisp of smoke, darts and weaves through the carnage, evading his every attempt to seize them.
The chase felt good, it felt intoxicating. So much so, that Nikto didn't notice how they ran to the edge of the collapsed floor.
A burning void of acrid smoke stretches a few meters wide forward, an opposite crumbling edge of the floor is barely visible. A primal fear grips Niktos heart for a fleeting moment, a familiar voice screeching ‘stop right now’.
Nikto doesn't stop - just slows down for a mere moment. Yet that is enough. Before he could react, his enemy leaps forward, gracefully hurdling through the black smoky veil with an inhuman determination.
For a moment, Nikto stands frozen in disbelief, his gaze locked on the figure who dared to confront the hungry void without flinching. And then, as if sensing his hesitation, the subtle figure turns to face him.
“So eager to die. Oh, we shall deliver then,” Nikto smirks.
Without a second thought, he lunges forward, his movements fueled by a surge of adrenaline. And that's when he sees the eyes of his death.
She has an intense gaze, a sharp one, like a bird of prey. And her eyes paralyze him. The only thing, that was left is to knock her off her feet. But somehow, and Nikto woulds be ever able to explain this, he ends up under her, his own knife pressed against his carotid.
“She is going to kill us.”
“She is.”
“Kill us all.”
But the woman doesn't press the cold steel of his knife further. Her eyes roam down his uniform, until they freeze. She curses through her teeth and presses her knee against his chest, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
Nikto flinches, his gaze unfocuses and his body stops fighting her. He just watches her, while she opens his holster.
“She's going to kill us.”
“Quiet.” Nikto realizes, he said it out loud, when she answered him.
“She's… she's going… we know, we know, we see it in her eyes. She has our death's eyes.”
She ignores his haste whispers and cocks his pistol right next to his jaw. They say, one sees their whole life at such a moment. Every major event of his life should appear before his eyes. But everything Nikto sees is his death's green eyes. And somehow, he is not afraid to die. If this is how he goes - so be it. He is not disappointed, that there was no big fight for life. After all, he lived so many lives simultaneously and each one of them seemed to be too shitty to fight for.
“Kill us. Kill every single one.”
The sound of a gunshot deafens him.
***
“It hurts?” Sasha touches his skin, bringing a comforting chill to a darkening stripe on his swollen neck.
Nikto slowly shakes his head, not looking away from the ceiling. He can't bring himself to look at her. His ears are still ringing, his head keeps spinning, as if he hasn't brought a whole day in the medbay at the KorTac base.
What happened there? Why didn't that soldier kill him? He would in her place. Hell, he would do it in his own place… Only he didn't. Nikto failed.
“Let me help you forget this.” Sasha reaches out to his palm to bring it to her heart as she usually does, but Nikto pulls his hand away.
“Don't.” He should have added ‘please’ to not sound this intimidating, but his breath catches in the throat, when he recalls another touch to his hands.
It was soft, carrying. He remembers screaming at his enemy when she tried to take off his mask, so she opted to taking off his gloves. He was still shouting when she started massaging his bare hands, repeating ‘shhh, listen to me, big guy, just stay quiet, and I will get you out of here, ok? I'm not going to hurt you.’
This felt so terribly wrong. She wasn't supposed to be a person - just a target, another line in his mission report. But somehow she cooed all the voices in his head to sleep. She silenced all the sounds around him.
“Why?” Sasha sounds confused. Just a few days ago everything was well and there was nothing that could possibly break Nikto.
He doesn't know, how to respond. He doesn't even notice, how the girl leaves him alone in a room. His many voices slowly come back to life, offering him one answer after another.
“Because her touch simply exists”?
“Because she held my life, when I surrendered it, and chose to give it back just like that”?
“Because I looked my death in her eyes. They are green.”
#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod nikto#nikto#nikto x reader#mwii nikto#nikto x you#nikto cod#call of duty nikto#andre nikto
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Stoned by Smash Mouth is very gamzee and it's not even just drugs
#i relate(d?) to this song a lot too#like‚ it is a pretty sad song if you look at it in a way#the chorus is literally ''we're okay‚ reelin' in the days. we're alright‚ we're just gettin' high. Let us be‚ it'll be alright''#they repeat the phrase 'leave me alone' too much for comfort#''My mind is blown but it's my own‚ so deal with it. I'm feelin fine most of the time. I may be on the outside but noone's gettin in.''#My mind is blown? Most of the time? Noone's gettin in?#all this combined with all the 'leave me alone im fine im ok im alright' really gives me vibes of‚ like‚#an addict who wont admit the drugs are destroying his life and his mind?#which is pretty in character for gamzee#seriously tho why do they say 'Leave me alone' so much in this song about weed? its a little off putting tbh
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SocialCues
a/n: Been feeling a little down lately.. very self-comfort, but I hope anyone else who has deep rooted anxiety and poor social skills can appreciate this…
cw: depictions of bullying and self-degradation/anxiety. Angst/Comfort
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Why did this always happen? How, even?
You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around how you always found yourself in these damned situations…
After being left alone at your desk, you quietly listened as the classmate who had just walked away whispered to themselves.
“What a freak…”
What did you even do? A freak? You were rightfully polite and pleasant, just as you always have been.
Did you say something wrong? Something weird? All you did was ask your classmate about their dog. Out of all the subjects you were taught to bring up in conversation, pets and hobbies were a universal win. (Strictly of the other person, because if you started going on a rant about your own pet or hobbies, you would make the person feel awkward and at a loss for words.)
How is it you always had a way of making everyone you talk to feel so awkward and bored?
But it was so lonely being forced into submissive quietness. You may have hated that more than the quiet glares of others. So still, you try to do your best and talk to people.
But only after a month of trying, it was evident that others were beginning to avoid you. To avoid talking to you. Avoiding eye contact.
You repeated what you’ve been told over and over again.
Saying less is more.
Use considerate language; words and phrasings.
Don’t make the conversation about yourself.
Avoid too specific points of conversation.
Read their facial expressions.
If they look desperate to leave, end the conversation quickly as to not bother them further.
Maybe being too conscious of what you said was your downfall?
But seriously, what else could you do? If you tried being casual, you make it awkward. If you tried too hard, you make it awkward. And if you don’t try at all, you force yourself into isolation.
Once lunch time rolled around, you started your way to the bathrooms to wash your hands before eating. How could you eat when your hands were covered in eraser shavings and lead stains? However, just at the threshold of the bathroom entrance, you could hear a conversation.
“L/n just doesn’t know when to shut up, does she?”
“Seriously! I can’t even get in a word with her!”
“Really? I just felt like she wasn’t even there when I tried talking to her! Like, she was waiting for me to ask her questions or something.”
“She asks way too many questions, like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
“She doesn’t really have much of a personality, I can’t stand people like that!”
“I dunno, I just can’t stand her.”
Honestly, they were pretty loud. People around the bathroom could definitely hear whoever it was talking.
You honestly didn’t even know how to react.
Maybe this was a good thing? At least this way you knew what you were doing wrong. Unfiltered criticism on how you could do better. So silently, you stood and listened.
It really hurt, hearing people talk about you like this. But it was your fault in the first place. Suck it up. Do better. Be better.
Holding back your tears, you fidgeted with your fingers. It was no good. You were bound to burst out in tears at any second.
“Oi.” Out came a sudden call. Startled, your heart leapt out of your chest. Looking up, you saw your classmate, Baji Keisuke, holding three filing boxes of what you assumed to be pre-graded tests and other miscellaneous paperwork. “Lend me a hand, would ya? Teach wants these taken to the teachers lounge before lunch’s over.”
It took you a few seconds to properly register that he was actually talking to you. Though it was hard to tell, given his huge thick rimmed glasses. Once it finally clicked that he was actually talking to you, a wave of embarrassment hit you hard.
“Me? Oh, uhh… o-okay.” You agreed slowly, looking at your dirty hands. You guessed it would be more suitable to wait to wash your hands after carrying a dusty box. Somewhat relieved, you nodded and walked over to your black haired classmate, gingerly shifting the top most box out of his face, into your grip. “Just this one is fine, or should I grab another..?”
You began to ask, until you were met with awkward silence.
SHIT. YOU DID IT AGAIN? Already? Embarrassed to the point of tears, you started down. “S-sorry, dumb question.”
Your classmate seemed disgruntled at your comment. Self pity never looked good. You were just digging yourself into a more massive hole. Just shut up and take the boxes.
Lift your fair share.
Almost forgot that rule.
Just as you went to shuffle the second box out from his grasp, your class mate stepped back. “I got these, just the one is fine.” He said.
“Just the one?” You asked.
“Yeah.. I mean, not to sound like an ass— I mean, um…” he clicked his tongue, trying to think of a better way to rephrase his comment.
“You can say ass, I don’t care.” You giggled quietly. You were faking it a little, what with how shot your confidence was already. But it was cute watching Baji flounder for the right words.
“Right. What I mean is, I’m probably stronger than you are, carrying these isn’t any issue. I just needed help with the third one since it was blocking my view.”
That made sense. He was damn near a foot taller than you after all. And he didn’t seem to struggle with the load in strength. Your silence made your classmate a little on edge.
“I ain’t trying to call you weak or anything. Shit. Just.. lets go.” He huffed before starting his way to the stair case.
Following close behind, you were scrambling your head with how to reply. Do you need to reply? But he sounded a little unsure of his own phrasing, sometimes validation was good for these kinds of situations.
‘It’s okay, I didn’t think you were calling me weak.’
Simulating the conversation in your head, you give up, rationalizing that your comment would more than likely go unanswered anyway.
Lost in these thoughts, you trailed behind Baji silently.
That’s right.
When it doubt, just be quiet. Just. Be quiet.
And it seemed your classmate was content with this as well.
Just as you were rounding the stairs, you were suddenly overwhelmed by a group of boys roughhousing with one another, laughing and unbothered. Before you even had the chance to move out of their way, a boy had rammed into your side hard. This caused for a series of unfortunate events.
Being as you were just making your way down the stairs, this rash shove caused you to lose your balance, trip over your feet, and topple forward. It wasn’t pretty. You definitely did at least one summersault on your crash down, the box of papers you held flying everywhere. What would have made it worse was if you had crashed into Baji on your way down, but luckily for both of you, he had walked at a much quicker pace, and had already reached the bottom of the staircase before your topple.
It was dead silent. Luckily, there weren’t too many students around, but there were enough. The boys looked back to one another, contemplating if they could just run off before you realized who they were, stay and help, or even apologize. You were the weirdo of their class after all, it’s not like these kinds of things didn’t just… happen.
“The hells your guys’ problem, huh?!” Baji yelled. It was really loud, louder than you’d ever heard him before. “Got a death wish or somethin’? Help pick this shit up, now!”
Hell with his reputation, this shit pissed him off way more than his tempter would allow him to suppress.
“R-right!” The boys who’d bumped into you nodded and scrambled to pick up all the scattered papers. “And apologize!” Baji yelled a second time, furious that they hadn’t even considered to do that first.
“We’re really sorry!! We weren’t looking, it was an accident!! We’re sorry!” They groveled low to the ground as they cleaned up the mess of their own making.
Baji huffed, but seeing as they were doing exactly as he told, he let it be for now. He sat his own boxes down gently, squatting over to help you up. “Hey, you okay?” He asked.
“No—“ you snapped in a sarcastic tone, but it was only out of bubbling up frustration and humiliation. Clearing out your throat, before he would reply, you started to pick up the papers scattered at your bruised knees. “Yeah, sorry. I’m okay; just didn’t expect it.. sorry I dropped the box. Sorry.” You repeated quietly, head hung low.
You only ever made trouble. If you’d just moved out of the way faster, you wouldn’t have messed up so harshly. Even if they were clearly in the wrong, if you’d just caught your footing instead of tripping, none of this would have happened.
“Come on, these bastards can take the rest from here.” Baji glared while his glasses slipped past his nose, leaving each boy trembling in fear. “W-we’ve got it from here..” One nodded in defeat.
Baji grabbed your shoulders, you rushed you to your feet. “Don’t worry about this, ‘going to the nurse.” He had an aura of order around him while helping you down the remaining stairs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to walk me..” you mumbled, not even sure it was worth going to the nurse for anyway. All you did was fall.
“You’ve got a few knots, and a lot of bruising. You should really be put on ice.” Baji looked you over as the two of you walked. “It had to of hurt. Seriously, those guys should have been looking where they were going. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll make sure they properly apologize again later.”
You chuckled humorlessly, and waved him off, eyes still glued downcast. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was an accident.”
“Accident or not, they’re gonna pay.” He muttered. “Sorry to trouble you, you’d probably have been better off if I just took the boxes all myself.”
“No worries, I wanted to help.”
Once you reached the nurse, Baji stopped you before going in. “You’re L/n, right?”
“Y-yeah, Y/n L/n… I sit in the front, a few rows to the right of where you sit.”
“Right. Sorry bout that again, I’ll let the teacher know you’ll be back a little later than lunch, so don’t sweat hurrying back. Just take your time.”
When was the first the anyone was this considerate of your wellbeing? Sure, it was a common courtesy, but it was still out of the norm. He gave a final look over of you, he seemed to narrow his brows further. “Well … I’m off. Seriously, take it easy.” He waved, and stepped back, waiting for you to enter.
“Right… thank you, Baji.” You have a slight bow before escaping into the nurses office.
⋆｡ ﾟ ｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆
You were so tired. Maybe it would be best to let it go. Just accept you weren’t able to make friends. Finally accept something was actually wrong with you, and just stop trying.
Murmurs about your little fall were the talk of the class after lunch. Apparently the guys who bumped into you were actually pretty popular. Spreading misinformation about what happened, and making you out to be the bad guy. Seriously, what did you ever do to them? It wasn’t fair.
Overwhelmed, the end of the day came, and it was becoming impossible to tune out all 20 different conversations happening simultaneously as students filed out of the classroom. You bit your tongue and waited. The room would become empty before too long.
One by one, everyone left. And you were finally left alone. Finally. The weight of the day finally began to settle in the newfound quietness.
You quietly laid your head down on your desk, and held your arm sleeves tightly. Just breath. Why is it no matter what, you always make things worse? It was so suffocating, you didn’t even realize how harsh your breathing had become. Tears burned your eyes, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Openly sobbing into your sleeves, you huddled in upon yourself closer.
This sucked! What the hell! You didn’t do anything wrong! So why…
It didn’t do any good to think about it further than that. All thinking did was make it worse. Stop thinking. Just pretend like it didn’t happen. Pretend like you don’t hear anyone when they talk behind your back anymore. Pretend like your knees don’t hurt, like your feelings weren’t crushed. No one cared anyway. Suck it up.
Do better. Be better. Stop crying. Stop—
“Hey…” you heard a soft voice call out beside you. Your breath hitched. Was the classroom not empty? Did you seriously start crying in front of someone like that? This had to be the worst day.
You felt something cold touch your shoulder, and what you can only assume to be a juice box plopped down on your desk.
You didn’t lift your head. Soon to follow, the slight screech in a chair pulled out beside you, and the shifting of clothes. “Leave me alone…” you said softly; hoarsely.
“I thought about it… but it kinda seems like you could use a friend.” Wait, you recognized that voice. Ever so slightly, you turned your head to the side, and peeked past your hair to see Baji sitting slouched and wide legged beside you.
Still, you couldn’t let him see you like this. Rubbing your eyes against the material of your sleeve, you mumbled again. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to do all that.”
He was quiet. You were hopeful that he wouldn’t push the pity treatment further. The juice box was enough. It was thoughtful, and sweet. He was trying. But it was unnecessary. You’d forget about today soon enough.
Baji wasn’t sure what he should do. Maybe he should just leave you alone. He wasn’t really that good at comforting people, and you really didn’t seem in the mood to talk.
He’d never talked to you before today anyway.
Yet he couldn’t find it in himself to do it.
Anytime your name was brought to mention, it was always some bullshit gossip he never cared to listen to. You kept a low profile and seemed to always have a cheery aura about you. Those rumors were just that, rumors. It kind of reminded himself of when people would mumble about him behind his back when he first got held back. Sure, everything that everyone said about him was true, about being a delinquent, or being dumb. But it didn’t seem that way with you.
“People are assholes and just say shit to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m friends with a bunch of weirdos— some real freaks, so I can confidently say you aren’t as weird as people make you out to be.”
Well, it was a nice thought, if anything else. You giggled, sniffling a last few times before turning away from Baji, and wiping your face clean. You faced forward, a guilty smile decorating your features.
Baji Keisuke wasn’t ever really one to notice a person’s appearance, not for girls anyway. Yet he couldn’t help but admire you. Maybe it was the puffiness of your eyes and lashes, all clumped up together in wet mattes. Or maybe it was the gentle smile of giving up that twisted his heart into feeling like he should help you. To get closer to you.
“H-here.” Baji stuttered, and held out his glasses to you. “I don’t actually need them, they’re just for show. You were trying to hide you were crying, right?”
You blinked suspiciously at him, who was a little red faced and shifting of his own gaze. Was he trying to be considerate? Either way, it made you laugh. “Why do you wear them if you don’t need them?” You took the bait, and reached out for the plastic glasses.
“Well, I’ve been told I can look, intimidating, kinda. Like I’m always glarin’ or something. S-so, I guess that’s why?” He couldn’t exactly tell you he didn’t want to be recognized for being Tokyo Manji Gang’s first division captain.
“That so?” You played along, putting the glasses on in playful banter. “Huh, you’re right. They’re fake.” You smiled, and looked back over at Baji. Immediately, Baji broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Bwaaahaha! What the hell! You look so dorky!” He toppled onto himself, holding his side. You immediately followed his fit of laughter, kicking the chair below him. “I look dorky? Speak for yourself poindexter! You’re the one who looks goofy on the daily!”
Normally, those comments would cause Baji to roll his eyes, but with how lighthearted the air was, it only managed to make him laugh harder.
It felt good, laughing so hard with someone. A stranger even. “Alright, come on’, I’ll treat you to some ramen. You had to skip out on eating lunch since I asked you to help me right? You gatta be starving.” Baji offered, hoisting himself up and out of his chair, pushing it in.
“Well…” you thought about it. You’d hate to put him out and cause anymore unnecessary trouble. Yet, for once, you felt like you understood the social cues going on around you. Being able to relax, smile and laugh with someone, and they offer to take you out for food? Would it really be a bad thing to accept?
“Sure…”
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers comfort#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo revengers baji#baji#baji keisuke#keisuke baji#baji x reader#baji keisuke x reader#tokrev baji
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Ok so I have had this idea for a while and it’s like Wilbur and reader are married and they decided they wanted a baby.and like how Wilbur is with you during the pregnancy and after you have had the baby.
a/n: pls, i'm in such a dadbur mood bc of you. i love this concept. i even started rewatching all the wilbur an tallulah clips (edit: i named the kid tallulah bc why not)
warnings: afab reader, mentions of trying to get pregnant - nothing smutty, mentions of infertility,
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
You always knew you both wanted to have kids, you spoke about it many times but it was always limited to the phrase "one day". You and Wilbur were happily married for about 6 months before the final decision was made. The comfort of settling down and feeling established in your late twenties added to the feeling that something was missing. You had a stable income, Wilbur was happy doing music. You loved each other, in fact there was so much love that you felt the need to give it to someone.
Getting pregnant wasn't as easy as you thought. Sure, it had its benefits but for some time it was a struggle. Nevertheless, you were there for each other all the time. It started to become a bit stressful for you. What was wrong? It shouldn't be that hard to do. Maybe you weren't necessarily sad, but you were disappointed or sometimes even angry and started losing hope. Wilbur noticed that your attitude has changed. He knew that as your husband and the dad of your future kids he had to take care of you. He held you every time the test came out negative, he would talk to you - a lot of the time praising you for how strong you were. He didn't want any of you to be alone with their emotions. Like he said "it was teamwork". "Maybe we just have to forget about this, try not to overthink it. Let it be. I feel like it's taking a toll on us. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, it doesn't" he said while you were laying in his arms on the couch. "And how do you imagine this?" you say not understanding how you could just "stop thinking about this". "I think we are under too much pressure. Constantly checking, doing tests. Let's stop this. Lets stop all this baby making and obsessing over damn lines on a plastic stick. We stopped making love. That's the key. We started treating it like a task".
It wasn't easy but with time you two stopped thinking so much. The topic came back when you started feeling nauseous. It was unusual for you to vomit and you have even fainted once. Wilbur knew something was different this time and suggested taking a test. Who would have thought that two tiny lines would make two people this happy. Wilbur immediately showered you with kisses, hugging you tightly. He was constantly repeating "We're gonna be parents, I'm gonna be the dad, you're gonna be the mum, we are having a babyyyy. MUAH''. Holding you with one hand on your lower belly Wilbur called his mom not wanting to wait anymore to share the news with her.
The only problem was that he was supposed to leave for tour in a week. He insisted on canceling the shows and staying at home but you disagreed. You would be alright, it was gonna be less than two months, everything was gonna be fine. With a bit of arguing he agreed on leaving. "Please tell me if anything happens, update me all the time. You know, I don't want to miss out on anything and I want you two to be safe and healthy." he said hugging you, his chin resting on your head. "I know, I will. Don't stress too much, please. The tour is gonna be over before you notice". You know your husband had a tendency to panic a bit. You appreciated him being literally overprotective but you never wanted him to feel stressed. He had asked his mom to visit you every week just in case. She was so happy for you two, she knew you were going to be great parents but she also knew you had a lot to learn. She was very helpful - not only did she do what her son asked her to do but also she gave you a lot of support in terms of any questions or fears related with raising a child. However, Wilbur called everyday, even a few times a day. He was constantly asking how you were feeling, if you were alright.
Wilbur told his friends about the pregnancy but he decided not to reveal it on the internet yet. When he got home he didn't leave you alone for even a minute. He never missed a doctor's appointment, he would always get the food that you were craving (even if it meant going to the store at 2 am) and he helped you in the most basic tasks like tying your shoes. He was constantly on a search to make this time easier for you. "Honey, you don't know how strong you are for carrying this baby" he said as he laid on the bed next to you. He rested his head on your belly trying to hear something. You hand went to brush his hair. God, you wished the baby had his hair. "What are they telling us, huh? Have you heard any messages?" you said jokingly. He scrunched his face as if he was really focused "Wait, wait. Oh! I think they are trying to tell us something, captain! They say they would like to join us on board very soon!". Wilbur has developed a habit of keeping his head next to your belly. Having a hunch that the baby can hear him, he would often sing lullabies or slow little songs that he came up with. He knew his singing calms you down as well as your child.
Thankfully, your daughter was born healthy and strong. Wilbur was scared that once you go to labor he will panic, but actually he did a great job at keeping it cool and doing his best. Although, It probably was the adrenaline that helped him. Either way, you were both very happy and tired. You were out like a light while Wilbur was seated in a chair next to your hospital bed, newborn in his arms (he wasn't used to it yet so it felt a bit unnatural) as he was gently singing.
The baby was definitely daddy's girl. You could have sworn he has some sort of talent when it comes to kids. Wilbur woke up to the sound of your baby crying. His tired groan filled the room as soon as he realized your side of the bed was empty. The floor let out a creek as he carried his way through the hallway. As he opened the door he saw you standing in the middle of the room, slowly rocking the baby. You turned around when you heard him “I fed her, I changed her diaper. I don’t know what is wrong” even with dimmed light he could see small tears forming in your eyes “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You little trouble maker” him taking the baby was like lifting weight off your shoulders. You loved being a first time mother but it was tiring and caused a lot of stress. Sometimes you felt that the baby loved Wilbur more. The tiredness made you more clingy than usual as you held your husband that was trying to make your baby fall asleep. After a while of you three holding each other and gently swaying the cries quieted down. After Wilbur put the baby down he looked at you “Aw, baby, you're about to fall asleep on your feet. Now let's get you to bed”.
When the little one got bigger you started going for walks with her. A bit of sunlight and fresh air never hurt anyone. It was also a great way to use some of her energy. As you were to leave the flat you send a quick text to Wilbur letting him know that you are going out. “Here honey, hold my hand” you said to your daughter as you were approaching a crosswalk “Where’s dad?” “Dad’s at work. Don’t worry, he’s gonna be back for dinner”. You could see that she wasn't very pleased but quickly got distracted by colorful wildflowers that were growing near the sidewalk. As she was picking the flowers you heard a ping “Wanna come to the studio? Boys insist. They haven’t seen Tallulah in a while”. Wilbur’s bandmates were like uncles to your child. They have seen her grow up, they like to play with her and sometimes they babysit her for you and your husband to go on a little date. You didn’t want her to distract them from finishing the album they were working on but they missed her so you gave in. “Sweetie, how about you pick some flowers for your uncles and we go visit them”. As soon as she heard you she had started running around trying to find the best flower for each one of them. On your way to the studio you barely kept up with her. She ran up the door and started knocking but it was still too quiet for them to hear so you gave Wilbur a call. Once he opens the door she quickly hugs his leg and continues to chaotically run up the stairs. Not wanting to wait any longer to meet her uncles she leaves her giggly parents behind.
June 29 2023
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader - Don’t Leave Me Alone
Warnings: Brief/Vague mentions of childhood & teenage abuse. Y/N has a panic attack due to physical touch.
Someone requested this piece but I lost their @ so apologies for not tagging you when I said I would - hope this is okay for my first Spencer fic.
You’ve been a member of the BAU team for over a year and yet you’re still not ready to open up to your colleagues about your past. Hotch had made it clear to the team that you were not one for physical contact, handshakes and hugs were off the cards. Even a hand on your shoulder is enough to set you off in a panic. Your childhood into your teen years were a painful experience that has left you fearing human contact, even the slightest touch can trigger a panic attack, something you desperately try to avoid. Spencer respects your personal space, especially as he struggles to deal with people touching him too. But he can’t help but want to provide you with support to hold you when he can see that you’re struggling with your own mind or freaking out after a case.
The teams most recent case has you travelling to the humid climate of Florida. With the weather causing an unreal amount of heat and discomfort you reluctantly opted to wear a short-sleeved t-shirt rather than your usual long-sleeved blouse. It made the bullet-proof vest just that little bit more bearable. Yet you didn’t account for the local Sheriff to take it upon himself to grab your upper arm during an argument with one of his detectives. The detective in question had been making derogatory comments towards you, JJ & Emily the entire time you had been at the precinct and you had finally had enough. After calling you ‘sweetheart’ for what must have been the hundredth time, you needed to speak your mind.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, Detective,” your words laced with venom. “But my name isn’t sweetheart, or honey, or darlin’. It’s Y/N.” Silence follows your outburst.
“Well, darlin’. Maybe if you dressed more respectably you’d be treated as such.” The smirk on his face irks you beyond reason, so much so, that you leap from your position on the desk across from him.
“What did you just say to me?” Reid, JJ & Hotch all close in to defend you but you raise your hand to stop them. “I’ve got this don’t worry.”
“Yeah, the little princess over here can handle herself.” This earns chuckles from the other detectives and officers around the room.
“Right, that’s enough!” The Sheriff storms through but with your back turned to him, you don’t realise that he’s reaching for you as you take a step back, getting into his bad books isn’t going to help the progression of the case. It’s too late for your team to step in as they realise what is about to happen just as his hand closes around your upper arm. On instinct you’re body reacts in the only way it knows - a panic attack. You try to pull away as his grip tightens trying to move you aside for a quiet conversation but that isn’t happening now.
“LET ME GO!” You repeat the phrase as loud as your voice will allow you. His touch instantly causes your mind to picture the violence you suffered in your younger years. Tears stream from your eyes as your panic intensifies. You can just about make out the voices of Reid & JJ as they try to comfort you and reassure you whilst Hotch is demanding you be let go. When the Sheriff finally releases you under the threats of Hotch, your can no longer hold yourself upright, on instinct, Spencer catches you as you fall.
“I’m so, so sorry Y/N, but we need to get you someone quiet. I’m so sorry.” Spencer cradles you in his arms as he half walks, half carries you to an empty filing room for some privacy.
“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so-“
“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.” As he settles you down he pulls his hands away to let you go, fingers outstretched like approaching a wounded animal. But you reach out, taking his hands in yours.
“Please, Spence.” Your words are breathless as you speak, begging him to stay, to touch you. To comfort you. “Stay with me?”
“Of course.” His grip on your hands tighten as he sits himself beside you. “I’ll always stay for you.” You respond with a tight smile, grateful for him not pressuring you to reveal anything from your past, grateful for the respect he shows for your personal space. Yet now, nothing comforts you more than the feeling of his thumb dancing across the back of your hands, calming you unintentionally. For once in your life, you feel comforted and relaxed by someone’s touch. Maybe it isn’t so bad after all, yet only time will tell. And maybe you can finally let Spencer into your heart that little bit more like you so desperately want to.
#spencer x reid#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid x fem!reader#requests are open
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There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort 🌷- pick a character or a few and come up with a prompt and I’ll write a fluff blurb <3
hi hi can u do robin buckley and her asking u to go out with her (which u assume is just as friends) but then she confesses to u on the date and it's just super cute
this is so awkward why cant i phrase things normally
Eeeeeeee thank you, I love you, this has been sitting in my docs for forever but you're finally back so it can finally see the light of day!!!
a/n: ummm to many princess bride references but I love it more than anything soooooo i'll reference it til I die <3
wc:2.4k
Also, like, hardly proofread :( but I hope you like it <3 (you're an amazing friend and everyday I'm so grateful for you sara)
“Steve,” Robin rushed behind the counter and kept her back to the edge, a poor attempt to not be recognized. “Steve, Steve, Steve, please, I beg, I can’t do it. You have to help me. When do I ask you for anything?”
“Literally every day.”
“Steve, please, literally I am asking you to help the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and you’re saying no.”
“I still don’t understand why you can’t talk to her.”
“Why can’t I talk to her?!” She looked around frantically trying to find you, making sure you weren’t close enough to hear her panicking. “Jesus Christ! Have you met me?! I’m a disaster. Last time I talked to her, I couldn’t stop!”
“I remember, Keith got all bent out of shape cus you left a line of 3 people.”
“Heh, yeah,” she agreed with a sarcastic laugh. “Also, I was saying so many things even I couldn’t keep up. It was horrible. It was so bad, I—” Steve turned her around by the shoulder and you smiled at her and held up the VHS in your hands. She finished the other half of the rotation and stopped Steve from running off to the back. “You cannot leave me alone, please, I beg of you,” she mouthed.
He twirled his finger around in the air, meaning ‘turn around,’ and pushed the swinging door open with his back, mouthing “Do it”. Leaving Robin to her own devices indefinitely.
“Hi, um, just this.” You put The Princess Bride on the counter. The 5th time you’ve rented it in 6 months (which she definitely knows from the records on your account and definitely not because she’s been keeping a mental note of everything you like. That’d be ridiculous).
“You really like this one.”
Your eyebrows kind of twitched in a way that made her regret so much as breathing wrong around you, but it vanished before she got the chance to grovel for forgiveness. “Yeah, uh, I really like it.”
She doesn’t even need to ask for your phone number anymore. It’s been on constant repeat in her mind since last Saturday and every Saturday before that. “And your phone number?” But she thought it’d be weird, too forward for you to know she knew it by heart.
“You don’t know it by now?” You raised an eyebrow and she gave you a half smile. She typed it in faster than you could watch her fingers to make sure she got it right, and the lack of hesitation did not go unnoticed by you. She really knew it.
“Uh, did you know…while they were filming, Andre the Giant needed an ATV to get around set since it was like, up on a big hill?” She asked while you counted out the change. She didn’t even want exact change. She’d put up with it. She’d make 97 cents for you, even though they’re fresh out of dimes.
“I did know that. Did you know Cary Elwes broke his toe on said ATV?”
“I did not. How’d he manage that?”
“His foot got caught on the petal and I guess it was enough to break his toe.”
“Oh wow.”
“Sorry, it’s uh, a little over.” Your fingers brushed her palm as you handed her the coins.
“Thank you,” she whispered and you felt the chill of her hand, but you wanted nothing more than to warm them in yours and never let go. She never counted change so fast, just to get to give it to you faster; for your fingertips to brush again. “Um, heh–“ she cut herself off for fear of further embarrassment.
“Sorry?”
“What?”
“You were saying something.”
“Yeah, it was dumb. I don’t–“
“It’s not dumb.”
“Yeah?”
“Now I’m curious so you kind of have to tell me now.”
“I suppose I do then. Do you want–” she huffed and started over. “Are you doing anything Thursday night?”
“I’m working til 6, but I’m free after that.”
“Yeah, at the- the arcade.”
“The arcade, yes. But what were you thinking?”
“Hm?”
“You asked if I was busy, was that just out of curiosity or did you want to go out?”
“Go out?”
“Is that a question?”
Robin just then noticed how close both of you were leaning on the counter. “Um, heh,” she cleared her throat with an awkward laugh. “They're having a special showing, at the drive in, just a town over, and uh, I was wondering if you–If you’d wanna go with me?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t have a car, my brother has it that day.”
“I don’t either.”
“My brother usually picks me up, we get off work at the same time so he could just drive me over to yours and we can figure out something else?”
“If you really want to go, we should go. I really want to take you.” You both smiled brighter than the sun at that. But then Robin had to go and have the worst idea of her life. Worse than following a middle schooler into a secret Russian bunker. “Maybe, uh, Steve could drive us?” She definitely saw the way both corners of your mouth dropped, but you were quick to pick them back up.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s uh, that’d be great. Pick me up at 6:15, yeah? Give me a chance to get ready and then we’ll go?” Robin nodded, mortified, dying on the inside, how could she be such an idiot. You spoke while walking backwards towards the door, “Great, you have my number. Give me a call if anything changes.” You never speed walked to the car. You didn’t even have the chance to turn the key in before you were throwing your head back against the rest. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” then you realized you walked out empty handed. No tape in sight. “Goddamn it.” You were not going back in there.
***
“Oooohhh, is somebody ready for their big date?” Cecelia, your coworker, walked into the bathroom where you were checking your eyeliner in the mirror.
“It’s not a date.”
“The drive in with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington? Sounds like a date to me.”
“He’s just dropping us off.” You so, so, so carefully fixed a flake of mascara without messing up the rest of the look.
“Oh, so you’re going with someone else?” Cecelia leaned her back against the small cabinet diagonal from the 2 stalls. “Tell me everything.”
“You know the girl he works with, Robin?” She cocked her head. “Buckley?” Still nothing. “Dirty blonde, in the marching band, plays the trumpet, took AP Spanish freshman year? It was a whole thing.”
“Oh her. Yes, yes, I know her…You’re going on a date with her?”
“Well, I was kinda hoping yeah, but now she’s having Steve drive us ‘cause neither of us have a car, so now I just don’t know.”
“But you want it to be a date?” She stepped up to you and licked her thumb to fix your lipstick.
“Yeah.”
“Then kick him out. Make him fetch you guys some drinks, some popcorn. Tell him to see how many numbers he can get before the Fire Swamp.”
“They’re like a bonded pair! I can’t just separate them like that.”
“You can and you must.” And then she checked her watch. “Better watch it, Sappho. You’re cuttin it close. All that yearning is gonna make you late.”
“Fuuuuckkk.” You groaned then practically ran out the door.
Right out the door and right into Robin.
“Hi,” you smiled regardless of the disappointment in the lack of romantic undertones. You smiled big, and so did she, like your faces didn’t know how to do anything else when you looked at each other.
“Hi, how– how are you? I didn’t mean to scare you, they told me you’d be back here and I didn’t want to seem like a jerk and wait in the car for you to come out because that’d be– that’d be pretty, really shitty. And… yeah, how are you?” You were surprised she didn’t run out of breath, she hasn’t run herself out like that to you in a while. She hasn’t been nervous around you like that in a while.
“I’m good, better now that you’re here. How are you?”
“Good, really good. It starts at 7 but we should get going now if you want a good spot.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Perfect…I, uh, I hope you don’t mind, Steve brought Max and El, the boys had a campaign and they were all bored.”
Everything she says makes this less and less of a date. Whatever, doesn’t matter, you’ll take her in whatever way you can get her.
“No, that's ok. They’re cool.”
“The coolest.” She offered you her arm which you gladly took.
You’d known each other for months, why did it feel like you didn’t know what to do with each other.
“Hey, how’s it goin?” Steve asked when he got out to open the back door for both of you.
“Good, pretty good. I’m excited for tonight.”
“Good. I should warn you, me and the kids–” “We’re not kids.” “ –will probably be taking off early, Max wants to go look at some supernatural museum she found nearby, but we’ll definitely be back to pick you guys up. It’s a pretty short walk.”
“We have to walk there?!” Max asked with enough attitude to rival Mike’s. Steve gave her a look paired with a sharp nod trying to get her into the front seat. Trying his hardest to be a good wingman.
She shook her head and mouthed fine, then El took the middle seat and Max did the same head nod with her to get her to one side. Robin slid in first to take the middle and you got the seat next to her.
It was a fun ride, Steve and the girls were at their funniest, doing their best to paint Robin in only the most complimenting light. You got the perfect spot. Not too close to the front or back, the perfect distance to see the whole screen but not have it in your face and the concession stand was far enough that it was a walk but there’d be none of it’s traffic buzzing around you.
Somehow, Robin convinced you to stay behind and fix the radio to the right frequency while Steve took her to get a pep talk drinks and popcorn before he left.
“You’re gonna be fine. You were great in the car.”
“Steve, no, listen to me, I cannot do this alone. You cannot leave me.”
“Robin, listen to me. Ok? The whole time in the car she was smiling, she’s having a great time. She really likes you. You feel that electricity?”
“What?”
“The electricity? Between you guys, it’s like off the charts. You got this, man. You’re fine.” He put a hand on her shoulder and El handed her the massive popcorn from one side and Max gave her the extra large slushy with two straws from the other. Then they both gave her big smiles and two thumbs up.
“You got this,” El said and Max gave her another pat on the shoulder and off she went.
You had just got the radio right when you saw her coming down the row of cars. Clearly, her hands were overfull so just as she came up to the car you opened the door and oh fuck.
In a flash of blue, slushie was all over. All over Robin, that is. “Oh thank god none of it got in the car.” She gasped, though her lips were on their way to turning just as blue.
“Robin, no, what about you?!” The urgency was enough to pull you over the center console rather than out the door and around the front to brush off the few pieces that clumped together. “Are you ok?! I don’t care about the car. I’m so sorry, my depth perception has been so messed up from staring at the computer all day, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was– I wasn’t thinking.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” she mumbled.
“Come on, let’s go change.” You started pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.
“Into what, I’m soaked.”
“Yeah and if you don’t get into something dry; like my sweatshirt that I promise you I don’t need before you try and tell me I’ll be cold; you’ll freeze.”
“I really don’t– You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. Come on.”
You took her into the family one, the big clean one right in the center of all the rest. “Here.” You pulled off the big, fluffy, crew neck and she thought she’d drop dead when she caught sight of the way your shirt rose up the slightest bit. You held it out to her and it took her a second to remember that she wasn’t dreaming.
“Thank you,” and leave it to Robin Buckley to say the dumbest joke at the worst moment. Just as she was about to pull her soaked shirt over her head, “Wow, and here I was thinking we’d get to at least a third date before you got me in such a compromising position.” She said with an unforced laugh at the end with her head still deep inside her sweatshirt so she didn’t see the feature film that was your face trying to figure out what she meant.
“This is a date?”
Really catching her off guard while she’s pulling a soaked bra, now probably stained blue, out of the sleeve.
“Uh, did you– I just– I thought–” She tried to go for the door but you caught her eye.
“I want it to be.”
“You do?”
“I’ve been tearing myself up all week ‘cause I wasn’t sure. But I really wanted it to be. So,, is it?”
She nodded fervently, “Yes, yeah, absolutely.”
“Good, so uh, do you maybe wanna go get some hot chocolates instead and we can take that blanket Steve was trying to be sneaky about and cuddle in the back seat?”
“As you wish.”
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it and if you did I'd love to hear what you think <3 Comments and reblogs mean the world to me 💕💕💕 Support your creators babes
#robin x reader#platonic steve and robin#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley#wlw fanfic#sapphic fanfic#robin buckley fanfiction#robin buckley blurb#robin buckely#platonic stobin#stranger things fan fic#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#dell's fics#sara 🌷#della celebrates 100
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“I got everything I wanted. My everything was you.”
Remus lupin
huge bust on keeping it under 500 for this one. Rem just does things to me, I can't help myself.
Mr. Remus Lupin
Mrs. Y/n Lupin
Mr. and Mrs. Remus Lupin
You doodled on your parchment, quill moving effortlessly over the page as your brain repeated the phrases in as many different ways possible.
A few older girls, ones closer to Remus' age, must have caught a glimpse at your parchment as they passed by because one with stark raven hair stopped and laughed in your face.
"Oh you poor naive little girl. Charity, look, this tiny tot thinks she's going to marry Remus."
Her friend, a curly headed blonde, laughed back before she spoke. "I wouldn't worry Margie. He's probably just made a bet with Sirius or something."
The one with dark hair, Margie, laughed again, a deep belly laugh, from her toes if you had to guess. "You are so right, Cher! Probably how long they can go before she realizes this was all just some joke on her. Well I'd love to sit and chat about Remus, really I mean who wouldn't, am I right? But we gotta scoot, we told Dirk and Fabian we'd meet them in the courtyard. Bye-bye." They both waved as if they weren't bullying you mere seconds ago and toddled off through the portrait hole. With a muttered 'Incendio' your parchment, littered with sprawling handwriting of 'Mr and Mrs Remus Lupin' burst into flames, leaving behind a scorched mark on the table.
Anyone that didn't know Remus would assume that because of his quiet nature he was shy, but quite the opposite was true of Remus. He was just as much a charmer as Sirius and James and he was easily as funny and laid back as Peter. Truth be told, Remus Lupin was the 'Casanova of Gryffindor'. At least according to his friends. He had any girl he wanted before you came alone and once you did come along he had you too. However when people looked at you they saw what they seemed to think Remus was. You were actually shy, not one to be outgoing outside of your strict friend group which consisted of Remus and his mates. It made you a bit of an outsider at first but you quickly became one with the group and they welcomed you with open arms. It was something you had been insecure about and if you were honest with yourself you still were at times but not so much anymore. But now that insecurity started to slip back in. What if those girls were right? What if this was just a game, a joke on you? Sirius and Remus had made a bet that if he could get you comfortable enough to come out of your shell and become friends with them they'd do something awful. Your brain wasn't even coming up with anything but you were sure it was bound to be atrocious and in front of the whole school, or at least most of them. Before you could stop yourself you were grabbing your belongings and making your way for the Gryffindor tower.
"Excuse me? Has anyone seen Sirius, James, Peter or Remus?" You're thankful your voice is above a whisper but not many students seem to pay attention. That is until Remus practically comes hurdling down the stairs.
"Oh hi, love. What's going on?" He stops in front of you. "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna cry." James, Sirius and Peter descend the stairs in a hurry but it quickly turns neat when they see Remus stopped by you.
"Rem, I need to talk to you. And James and Siri and Pete. Can you guys meet me in the room of requirement? Or we can talk in your room? I don't really mind where, it's just really important and I need to get it off my chest and-" You don't even realize he's leading you up the stairs as you ramble until you come to their door, graciously opened by James who steps back to allow you in first. Each of the boys takes a seat on their respective bed, waiting for you to sit with Remus and tell them what this is about but it never comes. Instead you pace around the room as you speak.
"So I was sitting in the library and I was writing, or more so doodling I guess bit I was- it's kinda embarrassing, you guys have to promise not to laugh…" You pause, looking at each of them.
"Swear, love." Remus makes an x motion over his heart.
"Promise." James and Peter agree.
"I'll try my best." Sirius says seriously.
You sigh and continue. "I was writing Mr and Mrs Remus Lupin-" Remus' eyes turn into hearts and instead of laughing Sirius thinks he might throw up at how cute that is. "And some girls your age saw and they started bullying me, saying I was just a poor naive tot and I wasn't going to marry Rem and that it was all a joke on me, a bet between him and Siri or something. And I just want to say that if it's true I don't appreciate it, being the but end of a joke." Finally you allow yourself a moment to breathe and all of the boys look at you with utter confusion.
"Baby, what?"
"Rem- Remus, don't do this. If this is a joke just, please, can we congratulate you for keeping it up for two and a half years so I can go? You can be with one of them. I mean obviously I'm nothing special. You can have one of them, someone who's rich, outgoing, everything you ever wanted." The tears in your eyes threaten to spill over but you don't allow them to.
"I got everything I wanted. My everything was you." He stands and takes your hands. "It's not a joke, at all, ever. I don't want rich and outgoing. I want shy and reserved except when you're around our friends. I want doodles 'Mr and Mrs Remus Lupin' on your parchment when you probably should have been doing your muggle studies homework. I got what I wanted." His lips are soft on yours when he kisses you and the tears finally come because you know he truly means it.
#remus x reader#remus lupin#fan fic#fanfiction#fics#marauders#tmfbfs fics#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin x reader#moony#moony x reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin fic#remus lupin imagine
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ch. 5: A Safe Place to Land - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader
Summary: 4.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.
chapter playlist: “Never Til Now” by Ashley Cooke and Brett Young, “You Matter to Me” from Waitress
Warnings: nothing crazy! lots of fluff, several pinches of angst, some cursing. multiple allusions to 18+ content & smut, but nothing graphic. i’m too much of a wimp to write smut but one day i’ll get there
a/n: hello hello! this chapter was a long time coming, but i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you guys like it!! thank u for ur patience & support xx
series master list | master list
The phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” is nice in theory. It’s a mantra y/n repeated to herself several times over the years when she missed her family and friends while traveling. She now found out that this mantra didn’t work as well when her not-boyfriend was somewhere on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean.
In Rooster’s absence, y/n returned to her hermit ways. On her days off from work, she’d spend countless hours reading, binge-watching shows, online shopping, and her favorite activity of all: napping. She ventured to the beach a few times but found that it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable without Bradley by her side. y/n reminisced about Rooster spinning her around until they both got dizzy or dunking her in the water, just for her to pull him in after her until they were both soaked and sore from laughing.
Over the course of the three-week mission, y/n wore Rooster’s clothes more than she wore her own. The hoodie she stole was a staple of her nightly Netflix sessions and she often fell asleep in the shirts Bradley ‘accidentally’ left at her house.
The only thing that could tempt y/n off the couch in the evenings were the sporadic calls she shared with Bradley. She jumped every time her phone rang, leaping over the coffee table and sprinting towards the counter her phone was on, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Bradley. The few times that he was on the other end of the phone talking to her made her forget all her woes.
There were a couple times y/n missed Rooster’s calls because she was at work. Aside from the sad sinking feeling inside, she felt like shit. Bradley always made sure to leave a voicemail. Though he did miss hearing her voice, he was never bitter when y/n missed his calls; she had a job to do, just like him.
y/n was comforted by the way her bed sheets still smelled like Rooster. Old spice and jet fuel and safety. She desperately clung to the remnants of Bradley’s lingering presence in her home. The night she felt the most alone was the same night her sheets stopped smelling like him. Despite her desire to hang on to any trace of Rooster, she was overdue to wash her bedding. She laid awake that night, tossing and turning in her fresh clean sheets. Had her bed always been this cold?
Instead of being lulled to sleep as she inhaled the comforting aroma as she’d done for the past two weeks, y/n found herself turning to Bradley’s voice for comfort. She had three months' worth of random voicemails he’d left her.
His morning voice drifted from the speakers–the voicemail in question was delivered before 6 a.m. a little over a month ago. Rooster wanted to call to say good morning before a god-awfully early training session, but y/n was still fast asleep.
“Hey, baby. Just wanted to say good morning. It’s…” Rooster paused to look at the clock on his dash. “5:29 a.m. So you’re probably still asleep. Which is a good thing, because this is way too fucking early to be up and moving,” he cleared some of the morning grog from his throat. “Anyway… I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day, darlin’.”
y/n smiled warmly as his words rolled over her. She remembered how they spent the evening after his training. Bradley and y/n had planned to watch a movie or two at home, but they both fell asleep against each other on the couch by 8:30 p.m.
The next voicemail featured a very tipsy Rooster. y/n would dare to say drunk, but Rooster prided himself on not getting drunk because he was a self-proclaimed heavyweight. Lively chatter from The Hard Deck could be heard in the background. Bradley didn’t go out with his coworkers nearly as much as he did before he met y/n, so on the rare occasion that y/n worked night shifts, Bradley distracted himself from his loneliness by hanging around his old stomping ground.
“Hey! y/n! Oh, shit, you’re working,” Bradley pouted, suddenly remembering the reason he went to the bar in the first place. “I miss you. Pool isn’t nearly as fun without you,” he cut himself off with a chuckle then a heavy sigh. He wasn’t wasted, but he definitely wouldn’t remember this in the morning.
The rest of his words weren't quite intelligible. y/n suspected Bradley got roped into a game of darts or was handed another shot based on the groan he let out before the message ended.
The final voicemail y/n listened to before drifting off to sleep was from just a few days ago, directly from the aircraft carrier’s satellite phone.
“Hi, baby. It’s me.” y/n could tell from his voice alone that he was exhausted. The communications room on the ship was mostly quiet. Rooster all but sprinted there to be first in line to make a phone call home. There was a brief pause of silence before Bradley spoke again. “God, I miss you so much. I can’t wait to get back home to you… take care of yourself for me, okay?” Rooster sighed heavily.
At the end of the message, Rooster let out a deep exhale–like there was something else to say, but the words couldn’t quite escape his lips.
Bradley Bradshaw had been holding himself back from saying three little words since the day he was deployed. He almost told y/n he loved her right before he left her house the morning of his mission. In the peaceful quiet of the early morning darkness, Bradley realized he was irrevocably and unequivocally in love with y/n y/l/n.
He convinced himself that it would’ve been cruel to tell y/n he loved her for the first time just before he left for a mission. What if he didn’t come back? Not only would she be left grieving Rooster, but she’d also be stuck mourning everything that could’ve been. Bradley couldn’t bear to burden her with that.
So the words were left unsaid for the time being. Every time Rooster and y/n spoke on the phone, I love you was perched on the tip of his tongue. With each passing day, the words rattled around his brain and begged to be said out loud.
That all changed after a close call during one of the mission flights. Rooster toed the line between risky and deadly a little too haphazardly. He noticed the enemy missiles soaring towards him far later than he should’ve, but just in the knick of time to launch his own flares and avoid the fiery explosion. The aftermath of the missile attack sent Bradley into a mental tailspin.
Rooster concluded that dying without ever having told y/n he loved her simply wasn’t an option. A world in which y/n never knew just how much she meant to Bradley was unfathomable.
But she deserved better than being told I love you for the first time from a satellite phone with spotty reception. No, Rooster needed to be sure she heard every word he was saying. He needed her to see just how much he meant it; how his words were the absolute truth. He wanted–no, craved–to hold y/n in his arms and hold her gaze with his own when he finally confessed his feelings.
On the other side of the world y/n mindlessly scrolled through her email while one of Rooster’s vinyl records played softly in the background.
A few weeks ago, y/n got a record player for her house because Rooster stated that vinyl “just sounds better.” She rarely touched the record player; it was pretty much reserved for Rooster’s use exclusively whenever he was at her house. Of course, the compromise wasn’t one-sided. Rooster caved and bought a bluetooth speaker so y/n could play her seemingly countless playlists.
“Why listen to one album at a time when you could listen to a hundred different songs on shuffle?!” y/n argued enthusiastically. She was over the moon about Rooster’s latest purchase. The small speaker sitting on the kitchen counter had y/n pulling Bradley off the couch and into an uncoordinated dance.
“This is so stressful,” Rooster whined when there was an abrupt shift from Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” to “You Outta Know” by Alanis Morissette. If it weren’t for y/n’s wide grin and bright eyes, Rooster might’ve second guessed the purchase.
In Bradley’s absence, the record player was the only thing she’d been listening to music on. In fact, she was listening to Rooster’s albums exclusively. Less than a day had passed after y/n bought and set up the record player when he brought over a box of vinyl records. y/n sat on Bradley’s lap on her living room floor, his arms wrapped around her waist, as she thumbed through the box. Her eyebrows knitted together when she saw that more than half of the box was full of his favorite records.
“Roos, these are your favorites,” y/n said, confusion in her tone as she pulled out a Jerry Lee Lewis album to prove her point. “Why are you leaving them here?” Bradley nestled his head further into her neck and pressed a gentle kiss against her pulse point.
“So you can develop taste,” he teased jokingly. y/n scoffed and lightly swatted his arm with her free hand. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned y/n around in his lap to face him. “I’m over here a lot anyways. We can listen to them together,” he suggested before pressing a sweet kiss against her lips.
y/n’s reminiscing was cut short when three new emails stopped her in her tracks. Her stomach dropped when she realized they were all new contract offers from the travel healthcare agencies she worked with. Each of the contracts she was sent were in one of her ‘bucket list’ cities. One in particular was a contract she’d been hoping for for years–it was a specialty trauma center job in Boston. The other two contracts nearly made her eyes bug out of her head; the salary was almost double what she was currently making at the base hospital.
Three months ago, signing any of the offered contracts would’ve been a no-brainer.
When y/n was with Ethan, she factored his deployments and where he’d be stationed into deciding what contracts she would accept. But she never held back or hesitated to sign a dream contract thousands of miles away, even if it meant they wouldn’t see each other for quite a while.
From the very first moment y/n arrived at the Navy base, she couldn’t wait to leave. She was desperate to erase any trace of Ethan from her life.
Now? Her chest tightened just thinking about how far away each of the jobs were.
y/n had a wanderlust soul for as long as she could remember. She was happiest when she was on the move, jumping from city to city, coast to coast. It could be a lonely lifestyle, but it was something of her own. Something she could control.
y/n wasn’t averse to commitment; she had a wedding board on Pinterest up until three months ago. Staying in one place and setting down roots never seemed to interest her though.
Not until now.
Now, she had something to stick around for. y/n couldn’t remember the last time she felt like she had a true home. The Navy base wasn’t her home, not by a long shot, but Bradley Bradshaw sure as hell felt like one.
For the first time, she considered staying.
The thought of her contract ending soon had been eating y/n alive for the past few weeks. The realization that staying at North Island, staying with Rooster, was an option threw her for a loop. She’d been on the go for so long that she forgot what it felt like to settle down. After that revelation, all of y/n’s missing pieces seemed to fall into place. The relief she felt was unmatched by anything she’d ever felt before. The weight of the world and her heavy heart vanished, replaced by a feeling of wholeness. Unfortunately, it was short-lived; killed off by a dark thought creeping into her mind.
What if Rooster didn’t want her to stay?
After pulling into y/n’s driveway, Rooster shut the door of his bronco as quietly as he could. He fished the front door’s spare key from underneath a potted plant, unlocked the door, and shut it silently behind him. He found his quiet movements weren’t really necessary when he heard one of his ‘80s vinyl records playing loudly. The electric guitar riffs and heavy drum solos all but blocked out every other noise—save for y/n’s loud singing and the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as she cooked dinner.
Rooster came to the end of the hall and leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, watching y/n dance around while she used a spatula as a microphone. She looked so happy and carefree; Bradley almost felt bad for interrupting her solo dance party. Almost, but not enough to stop himself.
When there’s a brief pause in between tracks, punctuated by crackling from the record player, Bradley cleared his throat. y/n shrieked and jumped, her eyes shooting wide open as she flung the spatula in her hand with the force of an Olympic javelin thrower toward the source of the noise. Rooster narrowly dodged the projectile metal utensil flying past his head.
Bradley turned to y/n with a surprised smirk, impressed by her aim. Once she registered that it was Rooster standing in her kitchen and not an intruder (she’d been watching a lot of Criminal Minds to pass the time), her jaw dropped and she stood frozen in place.
Bradley and y/n hadn’t spoken in several days. With the mission coming to its end, Rooster was busier than ever. When he wasn’t flying, in briefings, or going over flight plans and strategies until his brain turned to mush, he was savoring every spare moment he could get to scarf down a meal in mere minutes or sleep.
Bradley told y/n he’d be back in North Island on a Friday. That was true at the time. Just over a week into the mission, plans changed. The timeline was moved up, making the crew substantially busier, but it also meant they’d be back to the base on Thursday, a full day earlier. Rooster might have left out this development during the brief phone calls he shared with y/n.
When the shock wore off, y/n launched herself at Bradley, nearly knocking him backward in the process. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were linked behind his neck, clinging to him like her life depended on it. If it were anyone else, Rooster might’ve protested the way y/n’s limbs constricted around him tighter than he thought possible, making his muscles ache and his lungs strain for air. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was y/n.
So, the aviator held her just as tight, burying his face into her hair and pressing gentle kisses throughout. Bradley hoped that the hug could tell y/n everything his words couldn’t.
y/n let up from squeezing Rooster to pull back and look at him. Her eyes dotted across his face in disbelief, like she wasn’t sure he was real. Her fingers traced across his sun-kissed cheeks, memorizing each new freckle, before ghosting her thumb over his bottom lip. The heavy beating of his heart against her chest and his calloused hands rubbing the bottoms of her thighs let her know he was really there. Bradley delivered a pinch to her ass with a smirk, further solidifying that she wasn’t dreaming.
She was still at a loss for words, so she did the next best thing. y/n kissed Bradley hard and deep, mustering as much of the three weeks’ worth of longing as she possibly could into a single kiss. She was quick to take charge as their tongues danced together, but Rooster soon gained dominance. He backed y/n up against a wall, his muscled thigh holding her weight as one hand tangled in her hair and the other explored the curves he’d missed so dearly.
Their lips stayed locked until they damn near turned blue. Both of their eyes were wild as they pulled apart. Few words were exchanged before they began stumbling towards y/n’s bedroom, only making it halfway before they collapsed onto the couch.
The dinner on the stove was long forgotten.
Bradley laid in a daze on the couch, chest rising and falling as y/n grabbed water from the kitchen for them. He propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see y/n sauntering back in wearing his old Navy t-shirt with a glass in each hand. He licked his lips as he took in her appearance. Her hair was a mess, thanks to him, yet it still framed her face in breathtaking trusses. Her swollen red lips were almost as gorgeous as the mischievous grin she wore, her eyes glimmering as she took Bradley in.
He sat back in awe, his lips parted in the dopey grin y/n occasionally teased him for. This is it, he thought. Rooster hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since his days at UVA, and even then they were few and far between. Technically, he and y/n weren’t dating, but he was ready to spend the rest of forever with her.
Once Bradley’s haze wore away, he remembered one of the many things he’d been planning to ask y/n once he got back. His fingers brushed against hers as she handed him the glass of water before she curled into the other end of the couch with her feet resting in Bradley’s lap.
“So… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bradley began while he gently massaged her calves. “The Navy ball is in three weeks. I honestly don’t like going to these events, but I’m in the running to win an award so I have to at least show my face. I was wondering… if you’d like to go with me? As my date?” he asked hesitantly. Rooster hoped y/n didn’t catch the way he nervously gulped in between sentences.
y/n looked like a deer caught in headlights. She was hoping to delay this conversation for another day at least. She just wanted one night to exist in their happy little bubble. But reality was bound to set in, whether she liked it or not.
Maybe this is when the other shoe drops, y/n thought. Things had been so good, maybe even too good, for the past few months. All good things come to an end, and she feared this was it.
So, she sucked in a breath and put on a brave face. She’d gotten pretty skilled at masking her emotions over the years, but Bradley saw right through her. He was always able to, right from the beginning.
“Roos, I would love to, it’s just um… my contract, it uh- it ends in a week,” y/n finished meekly, rushing the words out. It got really quiet then.
More emotions than y/n could count flashed across Rooster’s face before he finally sat up straight to look at her, his eyes never wavering from her face. His heartbroken look had her regretting every second she didn’t let him know she’d be leaving soon.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley asked, his voice quiet. y/n couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked down at her hands twisted in her lap and willed the water rimming her eyes to go away. When her tears started to fall, Bradley moved down the couch and held her face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs.
y/n sniffled and met his eyes, placing her hand over his against her cheek.
“I didn’t want you to worry about me while you were away,” she smiled sadly. “I didn’t want to distract you, and I didn’t want to mess up what we have going here. I don’t want to mess up what we have,” y/n emphasized at the end, holding Bradley’s gaze and making sure he heard her. She was bound to cry harder if she stayed on the same train of thought, so she switched to the facts.
She told Bradley about her contract, its duration and her official end date. She told him what her options were going forward and about the three new contracts she’d already been offered. Rooster heard what she said, but it wasn’t all processing. He was lost in his head and maybe caught every three words. y/n took a deep breath before she spoke again.
“I was thinking about-“
“Stay.” Bradley blurted out, eyes wide once he realized what he said out loud.
“-staying,” y/n finished with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He took the words right out of her mouth.
Bradley, whose mind was still running a mile a minute, hadn’t processed y/n’s admission yet and dove into an on-the-fly plan to talk y/n into staying.
“You could find another contract around here! Or extend the one on base? You could take some time off. You could stay with me for a bit! Or I can help you with rent if you’re worried about that when you’re not working. Shit, that’s a lot, but the point is-” Bradley continued, bordering on manic, his hands waving around as he spoke mostly to himself.
y/n shushed him and cupped his face in her palms, just like he had moments ago.
“Bradley, did you hear me?” y/n asks slowly, enunciating every word. Rooster huffs.
“Unfortunately, yes. Your contract is almost over and you’re leaving,” he left out the “me” at the end, but there was an unspoken understanding that it belonged there. The typically confident and bright-eyed aviator looked heartbroken and lost. y/n hated that she made him feel like that, even for a second.
“No, Brad. I mean yeah, my contract is almost up, but I’m thinking about staying. If you’ll tolerate me hanging around,” y/n said with a wink, biting her lip in anticipation.
“Are you serious?” Rooster’s face is void of emotion, just wide eyes and a slack jaw as he waited for her answer.
“Yeah, if that’s oka-” before y/n could finish, Bradley jumped off the couch and scooped her up with him. He spun them around in a dizzying circle, pressing his lips against hers with a force that almost rivaled their earlier kiss in the kitchen.
y/n laughed as Rooster peppered kisses across her face when he finally put her down, keeping his hands planted firmly on her hips even after he was sure she had a stable footing.
“That’s okay with you? If I stay?” y/n asked with a hesitant grin, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. She found none.
“That’s more than okay. That’s- that’s everything,” Bradley chuckled breathlessly, pulling y/n into him by her hips. With her face mere inches from his, he rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t go,” he whispered, eyes shut as he held his breath.
“I think I can manage that,” y/n said with a cheeky smile. Bradley chuckled again; deep and full and happy. He pulled her against him and locked his lips with hers until his lungs ached.
The burning reminded him of his brush with death on the mission and all the things he would’ve never been able to say. When their lips finally pulled apart, Bradley held y/n at arm's length so he could look her in the eye.
“I love you,” Bradley stated like it was a fact. Because it was. y/n gasped, one hand gripping his arm tight as she took a step back in shock. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath, but his head was absolutely clear. Bradley recognized the shock and maybe even a hint of fear on y/n’s face and he understood. Hell, he was scared out of his mind when he first realized just how in love with y/n he was. He smiled and shook his head, tracing his fingers soothingly along her exposed skin. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just need you to know. I love you, y/n.”
Tears brimmed y/n’s eyes and her face cracked into a wide smile.
“Take me to bed, Bradshaw.”
Rooster and y/n’s legs were tangled together underneath her sheets as they came down from their respective highs, both deeply sated.
y/n was absolutely spent—it had been a rollercoaster of an evening. Her eyes were on the verge of fluttering shut, her hair was wildly spread across the pillow, and a thin layer of sweat covered most of her skin. Rooster was certain she’d never looked more beautiful. y/n would’ve scoffed at him if he said that out loud. Moonlight streamed through the open window blinds, highlighting y/n’s features. It also illuminated a hickey Bradley was sure she’d give him shit about later, but for now, he enjoyed the sight.
Bradley ran his fingers through y/n’s hair and kissed her temple before speaking softly.
“y/n, baby,” he cooed quietly to get her attention. In her tired state, y/n simply offered him a small hum and turned into his chest, giving him what remained of her attention.
“How would you feel about making things official?” Rooster asked as casually as he could, poorly veiling his anxiousness. y/n laughed breathlessly and entwined her fingers with his before rolling halfway on top of him. She reached up to caress his jaw with her free hand, finally opening her tired eyes to meet his.
Bradley was nervous. He was holding his breath; y/n knew this because his chest wasn’t moving anymore, she could only feel the steady thump thump of his heart beating against hers. Whether y/n knew it or not, she held Bradley’s heart in her hands. It was hers to break or have forever, and this was the deciding moment.
“I’d like that a lot,” y/n whispered, a sleepy smile spread across her face before she closed the gap between them.
“Good,” Rooster said gruffly against y/n’s lips before he flipped her over, pinning her beneath his body once again. y/n’s contagious laughter cut through the darkness as Bradley’s mustached lip traced down the side of her body.
Three months after the most fateful ER trip of his life, Rooster had never been so happy to have his arm sliced open and get stitches. He’d been on the run for most of his adult life; he forgot what it was like to have a home. For the first time in a long time, staying still didn’t terrify him. Bradley thanked his lucky stars that the woman wrapped in his arms decided to stick around and settle down with him.
After flying solo for so long, Bradley Bradshaw finally found a safe place to land.
a/n: AHHH?!? pls lmk what y'all think!! there's one final part for this series -- the ✨epilogue✨ i'm so excited about it omg. have a good day & stay safe luvs <33
#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#top gun: maverick#bradley bradhsaw#nurse!reader#rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw x y/n#a safe place to land
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Fault
Whumptober Day 17: "Leave me alone."
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“Leave me alone, Apollo.” Meg mumbled, kicking her legs precariously on the windowsill. The lights of Ohio blinked below her, the roar of cars creating a numbing blanket that allowed her to sit and stare into the yellowing dark without falling too deep or hard into her emotions.
She didn’t have to turn back into the room to know that he hadn’t left, but she did so anyway. Apollo hovered in the doorway. For a sun god, he seemed fairly content to lurk in the shadows.
She supposed she hadn’t phrased what she said as a command. Oh well. She couldn’t bring herself to repeat it now, now that she was looking at him straight in the eyes. The words were there, but stiff and awkward, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to find a way to say them as she meant.
“Can I come in?” He asked politely, as if he wasn’t already practically in her room. She jerked her chin stiffly. A nod. An unspoken yes. "Cool."
The Waystation shut the door behind him with a surprising gentleness, and Apollo wandered towards her at a leisurely pace. Like he needed the time to think of something. She stared at him, oddly. "Uh… what do you want?"
"I just wanted to hang out."
She sniffed. "Bullshit."
Apollo made a noise of mock offence, clutching a hand over his heart. It's over dramatic nature made her feel momentarily reassured.
It drifted slowly into a quiet expression, something of not quiet peace, but silence. He perched on the windowsill next too her gingerly as if he was allergic to sound, and slowly started inching his hand closer to hers.
Go away, Meg tried to say, the words getting lodged in her throat. She settled for staring at Apollo's face instead. His eyes were blue - the type of blue that you didn't notice right away, that wasn't pale and delicate but warmer and darker, like the beginnings of an afternoon thunderstorm. Not like his father's… but something more personal, more intense.
"Stop." She blurted out randomly.
He paused every muscle in his body. "Stop what?"
"Just…" Meg struggled for the words and scowled. "Being so… I don't know, comforting? You're supposed to be… loud. Flamboyant. Overdramatic."
"Meg." Apollo said gently. "I'm the god of healing. I want to know that you're okay."
"I'm fine."
"Not just physically." His eyes flicked up to meet hers. The blue simmered, but not with any visible emotion. "I meant the health of your mind."
She shot a sharp, withering glare at him. He continued.
"I know you're going to hate me for talking about this… but I can see that you're not okay, and even if what I tell you isn't what you need, it can still be helpful."
"I don't need help." Meg considered kicking him in the shins, but it would take too much energy to move around and do.
"Whatever has happened," and oh, she wanted to scream at him, because how could he possibly know what happened? "Was not your fault, or your responsibility. You are, before you are a demigod or a hero or a daughter, a child. Nothing you could ever do would warrant something like your stepfather-"
"I'm not a child." She snapped. "I'm not weak."
"Children aren't weak, Meg." Apollo protested. "It's okay to be young. I know it's very repetitive when people say that you never get your childhood back, but it really is true. You shouldn't have too-"
"I don't need this-"
"You shouldn't be expected to fight, full stop." He tentatively offered his hand out to her, and very stiffly, very shakily, she took it in her own. Even at 16, his hands were so much bigger than hers. "Not with swords or weapons, and especially not with words or feelings-"
"Shut up." She muttered, and he obliged almost instantly. How could he just… say these things too her like they meant something too her? They felt like reiterating of the same point, but she knew that there was meaning that was intended to be comforting too her-
He raised his arms gingerely. "Do you want a hug-?"
Meg did not want to listen too his stupid talk about children and fighting and responsibility, but she was never going to turn down a hug. She collided with him almost instantly, and wrapped her arms around his neck in an iron-strong grip and refused to let go.
#whumptober2023#no.17#“leave me alone”#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#toa#pjo hoo toa#the trials of apollo#meg mcaffrey#lester Papadopoulos#apollo pjo#apollo toa
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{ 46 }
sharing the rain together.
eren yeager x fem.reader
modern au
the downpour showed no signs of letting up, and you had no umbrella to help with shielding you from the needle-like rain.
when you left your shared apartment to get some groceries for tonight's dinner, you figured there'd be no harm in walking to the store since it was only 15 minutes away. you wanted to get some steps in and maybe burn off some calories along the way.
the weather had been mild, barely reaching 70 degrees when you left your home and took a leisurely stroll to your local grocery store. you suppose sometime during the last hour you spent shopping, the awful weather had crept up on you without you even knowing.
you debated on whether to call your boyfriend or not, but ultimately decided against it. he had spent the night before picking up a late shift at work. the morning he came home, he immediately crashed in bed. you knew he was enjoying some well-deserved sleep when his snores were heard echoing throughout the apartment.
not wanting to disturb him, you tighten your grip on the grocery bags and steel your nerves, stepping out in the rain.
the way the droplets immediately pound against your body makes you gasp, feeling the ice cold waters soak through your clothes as you were left trembling from the impact.
your breathing had become shaky; your teeth chattering as you began your trek back home. you kept trying to reassure yourself that it would only take fifteen minutes-
fifteen minutes and then you'd be back inside the comfort of your home.
it's just fifteen minutes.
you kept repeating that simple phrase, a mantra that helped to further motivate you as you felt the distance between you and your apartment shorten. you were about to cross the street, turning a corner around the block when the sight of a familiar car stops you dead in your tracks.
the car was parked, and you watch as the driver door was thrown open to reveal eren. he was wearing his usual hoodie, catching your gaze all while flashing you a grin. "here, give those bags to me. i'll take care of them. you just get in the car and warm up."
you watch as eren takes the groceries from you with ease, thanking him by pressing your chilled lips against his cheek before hurrying into the car.
not caring that your soaked form was probably ruining the seats, you turn up the heater and place your numbed hands against the heat. you steadily felt the sensations come back into your extremities and was so grateful to your boyfriend for saving you.
a few minutes later, eren returns back to the drivers seat, giving you yet another boyish grin as he took off his hoodie and shook the water from his hair. he runs a hand through those dark brown locks before starting the car once more to make the drive back to the apartment.
"h-how did you where to find me? i-i didn't leave a note or anything." your voice was still shaky from how cold and drenched you were, earning a rich chuckle from eren.
"what can i say? i know you too well, babe. the moment i saw how our car was still parked outside and heard thunder, i knew you needed me."
there were times when your boyfriend annoyed you with his clinginess, being childish even. he was petty and jealous to a t if and when you spent a little too much time doing something that didn't involve him. he was always doing something to get your attention, being spoiled from receiving love and affections from his family and older brother. you often joked that eren would like nothing more than to be physically glued to you by the hip-
but you couldn't deny how devoted he was to you.
you couldn't deny how much he cared. like now, how he hated the thought of you walking out in the rain, cold and all alone, and immediately came to your rescue.
just the thought of it alone makes you smile.
he turns into your apartment complex just minutes later, tossing his hoodie at you while he ushers you to put it on and run back into the apartment first. you surround yourself with the comforting scent of his hoodie and draw up the hood before running back to your shared apartment.
minutes later, eren joins you with the groceries in hand. he unlocks the door and tells you to strip and make a bath, promising you that he'll join you shortly.
becoming more than enticed with the thought of a warm bath, you shed off the jacket and peel off the rest of your clothes. you shiver, not caring that you were walking naked towards the bathroom as the thought of becoming warm again further encourages you.
the waters felt heavenly once your bath was ready, and you lay back with a sigh. your hands lightly trace at the surface, causing ripples to appear all around you. you were close to dosing off when a playful whistle makes you open your eyes.
you look toward the door to see eren dressed only in his boxers, eyeing you hungrily as he whistles once more, "damn, how in the hell did i get so lucky, landing a beauty like you?"
he approaches you with an eagerness, grabbing on to the side of the bathtub before landing directly on top of you. you gasp, but let out a laugh anyways when he hovers over you, splashing water everywhere against the linoleum floors.
"ren, you made such a mess! get o-"
eren cuts off your scolding with a bruising kiss, lips becoming perfectly slotted against you as he moves his mouth against yours. following your instinct, you kiss him back and slowly melt into him, giving in to every temptation eren had laid out for you.
moments later, he pulls away from you, licking his lips before giving you another light kiss, the sensation no heavier than dew against your lips. you felt him smile before whispering against them, "come on, let's get out of here. i'll make some hot cocoa, then we can enjoy the rain together."
giving you one last kiss, he gets out of the tub first, nearly slipping from the puddles he made in the bathroom. you roll your eyes and got out of the bath as well, shooing him out of the bathroom so you could finally clean up the mess he made and dry off yourself.
you supposed despite how short lived your bath was, you admitted to feeling better and the thought of having some hot chocolate in your system was absolutely delightful. you grab one of your favorite oversized shirts along with a fresh pair of panties before joining eren.
you enter the living room to see eren already dressed in a new shirt and a pair of sweatpants. in his hands were two steaming mugs, and you could already smell the sweet scent of the hot cocoa. he beckons you to join him on the couch, and you do so without hesitation.
eren adjusts himself so that you were now cuddled against his lap. you relish in the heat that radiated off his body and buried yourself even closer to him. he hands you the mug, and you take the first few sips of the warm beverage all while moaning at how good it tasted.
the rain continues to fall, with the sounds of rumbling thunder echoing throughout the apartment. just hours before, you hated the rain and how cold it made you feel when you briefly had to walk out in it.
but now, being settled within the arms of the man you knew you loved unconditionally regardless of his flaws, you realized something achingly important.
there was something intimate about sharing the rain together with the person you loved, and you swore to yourself to always cherish this very moment.
a.n. - because it's been such a long time since i wrote something soft, sweet, and achingly domestic with eren.
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#eren x reader#eren yeager x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren yeager x you#eren jaeger x you#eren x you#.stories
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ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2022
@monthofsick
ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʟɪsᴛ | AO3 ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
ᴅᴀʏ 9: The first time ____ has seen ____ sick
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,2k~
Heyo can I request for nevemetober the 9. The first time ____ has seen ____ sick prompt with Venti and sick Diluc? :D
TW EMETO
Diluc pushed past the door and hurriedly closed it behind him, hoping no one would come barging in to drag him back to the party. The uncaring sun greeted his eyes first, but he preferred it over the cluttered atmosphere of his own home, filled with strangers.
The server's area was empty as he had hoped, everyone was gathered inside the mansion, where a wine-tasting event was being held, aside from him and a few lonely tables and chairs. He pulled one and sat down, resting his full untouched glass on the surface, and staring at it with annoyance.
This could've happened any day, but as luck would have it, his body picked today to simply not cooperate. Diluc was sure he was sick and had been since he woke up feverish, without a sliver of appetite. And he remained that way through the day, his stomach aching and burning around the few bites he managed to force down, but nothing more.
Diluc breathed in deeply, trying to disperse that shuddering disgust etched in the pit of his abdomen. It didn't work, it only served to make him more nauseous. His head swam under the heat he was sure was coming from inside him, slowly cooking him alive.
The wind blew gently as if trying to provide some comfort, and while it was refreshing on his warm skin, it also brought the sensation of a pair of eyes gliding over him. Diluc looked away from his swirling wine and caught a glimpse of green as it disappeared behind a wooden crate, the footsteps were too light to be heard, but he hadn’t imagined it.
“I saw you, Venti. Come out”, he ordered with a sigh and shot his meanest look in the green figure's direction. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, master Diluc, good to see you!”, the bard stepped out of hiding, looking in every direction before flashing his most awkward grin. “I… wasn't trying to sneak in, I swear. What are you doing back here though?”
“That's none of your business”, Diluc responded coldly, clearly an invitation to leave him alone, but instead of acting hurt the bard stepped forward and shamelessly took a seat across from him.
“Hmm, are you drunk already? Your face’s quite red”, Venti pointed out, the sincerity in his voice sent Diluc's heart sinking through his back.
“I-I'm not drunk”, he grunted, putting all the energy he could spare into sounding harsh, deepening his scowl. When that didn’t seem to work, he crossed his arms over his stomach, almost protectively, hiding how hot and sensitive it felt. “I don't drink.”
“Wow, you’re missing out. You have all of the delicious wine you could ever want, and still, never drink any of it”, Venti snorted, but as he spoke his eyes shamelessly wandered to the full glass, and he nearly drooled.
Diluc couldn't keep himself from groaning, then rolling his eyes as if to mask the real intent, just listening to him talk made him even more nauseated. The heat coming from all sides, his constricting clothes, his churning stomach, it was already too much, he was nearing his limit.
“Listen”, he started, then paused to swallow when his mouth seemed to flood with saliva. The bard looked at him expectantly, then to his hand when it hovered over the filled glass. “If I give you this, will you leave me be?”
“Of course!”, Venti exclaimed, already reaching over the table to take his prize. “Wait, why do you want to be alone so bad?”
”Again, that is none of your business”, Diluc repeated, emphasizing the harshness of the phrase. “Just take it and go.”
“Don't be like that. At least let me properly enjoy it”, the bard said, bringing the glass to his lips with misplaced grace, but taking a swig as if it was a bottle of some cheap booze. He drained the cup in two more distasteful gulps, licking his lips as he put it back on the table. “Oh boy, this is amazing. You don't happen to have more, do you?”
“Venti”, he hissed and pinched the bridge of his nose when all of his headaches seemed to momentarily gather there. It was getting worse, he could feel his mouth filling with saliva again. “Just leave. I… I'm not feeling well.”
“Oh…”, realization flashed in his eyes for a second, only to be replaced by confusion. “Wait, you're sick? I would've never…”
“What part of leave do you not–?”, Diluc suddenly raised his voice, only to be cut off by a threatening gag that had him clasping a hand over his mouth.
“Oh no, are you going to vomit?”, the bard jumped off his chair, not waiting for the answer before he scurried off. “Hold on just a minute”, he shouted from a far.
Diluc didn't dare to respond, he just clenched his eyes shut and squeezed, trying to focus on holding anything from come up. Luckily Venti returned quickly, a wooden bucket in hand he had picked off some corner.
“Here, use this”, he instructed, shoving the bucket on the sick man's lap, right in time for him to bury his head into it, an audibly wet gag leaving him. “Phew… I made it. It's okay, just, uh, try to get it up.”
Diluc wrapped his arms around the bucket, bracing for the next gag with his lips parted. He could feel his stomach clenching, his abdomen sinking in as it pushed its contents up his esophagus, then out his mouth in a violent gush of acid.
“URgHhH”, he retched again, the sound scraping his throat, and spat, trying to rid his mouth of the burning taste. “Fuck, I– guh.”
His face burned bright when he felt Venti's hand sliding up and down his arched back, soft shushes following the motion. He could only groan in response, nausea slurring anything he could think of saying, the constant up and down only serving to make him dizzier.
Diluc heaved, bringing up another clumpy mouthful of stomach acid into the bucket along a string of wet coughs, it sounded like he was drowning. He spat, frowning at the lingering taste, and weakly raised his head from the bucket. Venti appeared in his vision, lending one of his whites sleeves to clean his face. He felt so exhausted he couldn't even protest, the nausea wasn't gone yet, but he couldn't handle the awful stench right under his nose.
“Are you sure you didn't drink?”, the bard asked as he retrieved his newly stained arm, not even batting an eye at it. “If you're really sick then we should start worrying.”
“I-I didn't…”, he rasped, sniffling almost dejectedly. Venti raised his eyebrows, then reached for his face, landing the back of his hand on his forehead. He didn't protest, his fingers were cool and soft against his burning skin. “Am I warm?”
“Yup, definitely…”, he nodded, trailing off as he cupped his cheek, lingering there as he looked the man in the eye again. “...fever.”
Diluc's gaze seemed to be lost somewhere as he fought against the swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach. Venti's words barely registered despite the request, he was standing so close to him, practically glued to his side, it was almost like he could let himself fall onto him.
“You should go back inside, and take a cold bath or something, before it gets even worse.”
“No, it's… so crowded in there”, he nearly whispered, blinking when his vision seemed to flicker.
Venti sighed almost longingly and turned to pull another chair closer. “Alright then, I can stay a little longer.”
#novemetober 2022#nov(emeto)ber 2022#emeto#vomiting#gen/shin imp/act#sickfic prompts#genshin emeto#tw emeto#tw vomit#di/luc gen/shin impact#gen/shin imp/act ven/ti#tw alcohol#fever#dana//emeto fic#my writing
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Chance Encounters (Pepa x Fem!Reader) Pt 5
Based on the prompt: “From behind I thought that you were my relative, which is why I tapped you on your shoulder, but honestly you’re much hotter.”
Pt 5 of 8
Pt 6
I’m thinking the reader and triplets are in their early twenties. Somewhere between 20-23.
As always I am not a native Spanish speaker, so if I butchered a sentence or word let me know so I may correct it.
Hope you enjoy!
“Gracias Señora, I appreciate your hospitality.” You said to the matriarch.
“De nada it’s the least we can do.” She said, repeating Julieta’s earlier phrase. The only difference was she shot Pepa a sharp look and you watched the redhead shrink on herself.
“Julieta escort Y/N to her room. I wish to speak to your sister.” Alma said and turned to face her middle child.
“Sí mamá.” Julieta said and gave Pepa an encouraging look.
You watched Pepa nod at her sister and stand straight as Alma approached her. Julieta had to pull you out of the room before you witnessed the strained relationship the two women had.
——
“You destroyed that poor girl’s home!” Alma practically shrieked when she believed the two wouldn’t overhear the conversation.
“I didn’t mean too!” Pepa said and clasped her hands tightly together. A cloud appeared over her.
“Whether you meant too or not you did! You did serious damage to the whole Encanto! If you can’t learn to control your emotions we will need to find a more permanent solution to controlling your gift.” Alma stated.
“Mamá! It’s not that easy!” Pepa shouted. Her nails were now digging into her palms causing little dots of blood to appear.
“Lower your voice! You will make amends to this town for your behavior. Every day you will assist in the rebuild of every home you destroyed along with your regular chores.” Both Alma and Pepa were fuming.
“But mamá!-“ Pepa was cut off.
“That is final!” Alma stated. It wasn’t up for debate, and Pepa knew it.
“Yes ma’am.” Pepa stated through gritted teeth.
“Now go and figure out how to apologize to Y/N and pray she doesn’t hold the whole family accountable for this storm.”
Pepa turned on her foot and fled. Tears stung her eyes and blood seeped under her nails and she fled to her room.
Little did Pepa know you and Julieta hadn’t strayed far and heard the whole conversation between the two. You looked at Julieta, your eyes just full of sadness for what you overheard. Julieta held both your hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze before leading you away.
——
Days passed and you saw very little of the middle triplet. She scarfed down her breakfast before rushing off to do her chores and help rebuild the town. She never came home for lunch and Julieta had to leave a plate out for her for a late night dinner.
After the fourth day of this you huffed and decided you’d find her. Admittedly a lot of your time had been dedicated to the rebuilding of your home. You felt bad you hadn’t gone to comfort Pepa sooner but you felt confident the men working on your walls would be okay without you for a while.
——
“Bruno, I can't find her anywhere!” You said and slouched down on the edge of the fountain. You had walked the town twice looking for the redhead and you’ve yet to find her.
“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. Mamá is working her hard.” He said softly.
He and Julieta both felt bad about her situation. She hadn’t meant to cause the storm but that didn’t matter to their mother. It wasn’t fair how hard she was being worked but neither he nor Julieta had the guts to ever stand up to their mother. Not for themselves let alone their sister.
You pouted before finally getting back up and resuming your search. You had connected some dots from the night of Pepa’s storm. It had been bad, really bad, so something must have happened to cause such distress. You had a feeling that Pepa didn’t miss your get together by choice.
Alma was a leader and she had built a safe haven but that firm hand had bled into her home. Even as a guest you tried to keep your place and not do anything to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.
You and Bruno passed by some of the repaired shops when the flash of red caught your eye. You back stepped and there you saw Pepa nestled between the buildings in the narrow alley. She was sitting with her head buried into her lap. You nudged Bruno and pointed towards his sister, he nodded at you and waited while you made your way down the narrow passage.
“Pepa?” You called out softly and crouched down in front of her as best as you could in the tight area.
Pepa’s head shot up at your voice and blushed. She had been so lost in her emotions and exhaustion she hadn’t even noticed you come down the alley, let alone crouch before her. Your faces were inches apart and it made her nervous.
“Are you okay?” You asked and frowned at her eye bags and scuffed up hands and knees.
“Sí I’m fine.” She said softly and glanced away.
“What are you doing down here?”
“I’m….resting.” She muttered as she stared at the ground. You frowned. Alma was working her daughter too hard and her body was beginning to suffer.
“Do you want to take a break somewhere less…cramped?” You asked.
“No!” Pepa shouted and immediately became embarrassed and her cloud appeared. You glanced at it before squeezing yourself beside her and sitting, your shoulders touching.
“Okay.” You simply said.
You were now between her and the exit and you discreetly shooed Bruno off. He understood and carefully slipped away before anyone noticed.
“You don’t have to sit with me.” Pepa said, though deep down she prayed you wouldn’t leave.
“Well, I didn’t get a chance to spend the other day with you and I don’t see you at meals so if this is how I need to get my Pepa time so be it.” You said and grinned at her. Pepa’s face now was bright red and she tugged on her braid as her cloud disappeared.
You both sat in silence for a few minutes before Pepa finally spoke up.
“I’m sorry for not showing up.”
“I have a sneaking suspicion it was out of your control.” You replied. Pepa looked up at you in surprise.
“You aren’t mad?”
“At first I was disappointed and felt a little foolish.” You admitted. Pepa felt her stomach tighten up.
“But if the storm was anything to go by I assume something serious happened.” You added.
Pepa just watched the side of your face for a moment before letting a small smile out.
“Sí something like that.” She said and looked down again before sitting in silence.
“I’m sorry your mamá is working you so hard.” You finally said.
“It’s not fair. You didn’t mean to cause that storm, it shouldn't be on your shoulders to assist everyone.”
“I shouldn’t have become so upset at mamá or it wouldn’t have happened.” Pepa replied and sighed.
“It’s not wrong to feel things. Even if your feelings are connected to the weather you should still feel them as deeply as the rest of us feel our own.” You said and stared intensely at her.
“My emotions can kill a person.” Pepa replied softly.
“Hey, get me angry enough and so can mine.” You teased earning a small laugh from Pepa.
“Just don’t feel bad about any of this. Storms will happen with or without you influencing them. It’s a part of life.” You said and in an act of comfort you reached your arm around her shoulder and pulled her close into a side hug.
It was close and cramped and you couldn’t really face her but you didn’t mind. You assumed she didn’t mind either when she leaned further into you, causing you to blush slightly.
After a few moments you stood and pulled her to her feet.
“Now let’s get you to Julieta and get you healed up.”
#pepa madrigal#pepa x reader#pepa x fem reader#Pepa Madrigal x Reader#reader insert#Encanto#Chance Encounters
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Gone
Tags & post showing in feed seemed to work on the previous post but still recommend checking out the last 6/7 chapters if you are reading these to make sure you haven’t missed anything.
🔖 @janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @bonsaiiiiiii @dragonoffantasyandreality
Previous - Chapter 26 - Injuries
Chapter 27: Comforting Words
Jeff stood anxiously waiting outside Virgil's hospital room with his mother and four boys. All of them were desperate to go inside but Doctor Sylvia had asked them to wait while he went and checked on Virgil's condition. After a few minutes, which had felt like hours, the doctor opened the door and smiled at them. "One of my colleagues is just completing a few final checks, once that's done then you can see him. Now, before you go in, you should know that Virgil has continued to drift in and out of consciousness, which is a result of his condition and the medication we have given him. Unfortunately, these drugs can only help him so much. So, when he’s awake he will still be in an extreme amount of pain, and he may not be coherent… Also because of what he’s been through, whenever he’s awake, he will probably not realise where he is, and he may become anxious and agitated."
"What can we do to help him?” Scott asked with concern.
"Talk to him, even if he’s asleep. You can remind him of good times and talk about fun things you can do as a family when he's feeling better. Reassure him of his safety and let him know that you are always there for him... Does he like any specific type of music?"
"Yes, he does," John answered with a smile. "He loves playing the piano and he has a particular fondness for classical music."
"Well, that's perfect! Play his favourite songs, whether he's sleeping or awake, it will help! Also, when he’s awake try and help him focus on his breathing, sometimes repeating a word or phrase can help, this with the music will help his body and mind to physically relax, and will help with the psychological effects and the physical pain."
The door to Virgil's room opened and another doctor made their way out. "He's sleeping but you can see him now."
Doctor Sylvia smiled at her. "Thank you. Oh, I would like you to meet our patient’s family."
"Hello, I'm Doctor Emily Sanderson. I will be helping to oversee Virgil's treatment while he’s with us." They all shook her hand and exchanged pleasantries. "Now, I'm really sorry but I must dash." She said with a smile.
"Can we go in?" Jeff asked, when Doctor Sanderson had left.
Doctor Sylvia nodded. "Of course, I'll let you have some time alone. If you need me, or one of my other colleagues, just press the green button above Virgil's bed and someone will be with you immediately."
"Thank you, doctor," Jeff added. They all watched him leave and then turned towards Virgil's door. Jeff stepped hesitantly forwards. When he realised he was the only one who had moved towards the room he looked back to see Scott, John and his mother holding the two youngest back. "Are you not coming in?" Jeff questioned with surprise.
"We will in a minute dad," Scott replied, "but I know you need some time with Virgil on your own."
"Thank you," Jeff responded wiping a tear away, as he pushed the door open and made his way inside.
Jeff stopped short of the bed and took a moment to process the image that was before him. There was his son, his normally smiling, strong-willed, bright-faced boy that illuminated their home with his creativity, music and deep resonating laugh. Looking lost, frail and completely broken. Jeff stepped forward, pulled the nearby chair towards the bed, and sat himself down. He then placed his shaking hand on the bed, desperately wanting to reach out and hold his son but he was too scared that if he did, then the touch would be the very thing to break him. Eventually, after a few moments of silence while he sat watching Virgil's chest slowly rise and fall, Jeff reached out and gently took Virgil's left hand in his, the only part of his child that didn't look broken or bruised, and he began to speak.
"Did you know that you've been gone for just over six days?" Jeff paused, half expecting Virgil to answer, even though his eyes remained tightly shut. "During those first few days when we thought you were dead, I thought of so many things I hadn't said, so many things that I wished we could have done together as a family, things that kept getting cancelled because of International Rescue. Then we found out you were alive, and I promised myself that if we got you back then we would do all the things that I had been putting off for another day... And I would tell you all those things I should have said but didn't… I planned the conversations in my head and worked out exactly what I would say." Jeff released a heavy sigh. "Now you are here, lying in front of me and I can't remember anything I had planned." Jeff took his other hand and pushed some of Virgil's hair away from his eyes. "You need a haircut!" Jeff released a small laugh. "Seriously, that's the only thing I can think about right now, that you really need your hair cutting... It looks like they've given you a shave though... I'm glad… A beard really wouldn't suit you and I know you hate it when you've not had a chance to shave on back-to-back missions."
Jeff stroked his hand through Virgil's hair and then looked at the door. "Your brothers and grandmother will be in here in a minute." Jeff looked back towards Virgil. "Your grandmother has missed you like crazy, I know she's planning all of your favourite meals for when we get you back home. If we don't keep an eye on her, or you, I know you'll get nice and fat." Jeff looked over Virgil's gaunt features. "Although, it does look like you could do with some fattening up!" Jeff continued to watch the rise and fall of Virgil's chest. "Oh son!" He now sobbed. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through any of this... If there was any way for me to take your pain and endure it for you then I would do it in a heartbeat... Before this happened, I never said it enough, and I know you are all going to get sick of hearing it... But, you are so, so precious to me... And I love you so much!"
"Love you dad."
"Virgil?" Jeff cried, taking in the sight of his now half-awake son. Jeff hit the green button above Virgil's bed and then took his sons only good hand with both of his.
Doctor Gerry Sylvia came running in the room followed closely by a very concerned Ruth, Scott, Gordon, John and Alan.
"He's awake!" Jeff said, stepping out of the way so the doctor could do his work.
"Hello there, I'm Doctor Gerry Sylvia. Now, Virgil can you tell me on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain?"
"Not bad,” Virgil stuttered.
Jeff, Virgil's grandmother and all four Tracy boys let out a laugh.
"Mm... Really?" Doctor Sylvia remarked. "Well, from the look on your face I would hazard a guess at a 9 out of 10?" Virgil winced when Doctor Sylvia touched his arm. "Or maybe even a 10... Now I'm going to give you something for the pain okay?"
"Mm... Okay." Virgil muttered.
Doctor Gerry Sylvia finished administering the medication and then turned his attention to Jeff. "Unfortunately, until the Rynax his out of his system this will be the only medication we can administer to him. So, while he’s awake it's best to keep him calm."
Jeff nodded and thanked him, when the doctor had left the room, the family all gathered together around Virgil's bed.
"Hello young man." Ruth said, tears trickling down her face. "I've missed you."
"Mm... Missed... Y... You!" Virgil stammered.
"Shush... Don't try to talk too much" Jeff said, stroking his hand through Virgil's hair.
"Ss... Safe?" He asked, tears filling his eyes.
"It's okay!" Scott soothed.
"We're all here with you!" John consoled.
"Ll... Love all!" Virgil replied, the tears now flowing freely.
"And we all love you very much!" Alan responded, with tears of his own.
"And we're not going to let anyone hurt you again!" Gordon stated.
... ...
Meanwhile:
The Hood stood pacing in his prison cell, cursing International Rescue for once again stopping his plans, cursing the day he first met Jeff Tracy and swearing revenge on him and his sons.
At that moment, the flap of his door opened, and a prison officer peeped through. "Foods ready... Step back from the door, there are two of us and we are both armed." He warned.
The Hood stepped back and took a seat on the single bed that was in the cell. The prison door opened, and the two officers entered, one with a tray of food, the other with a gun aimed at the Hood.
"Now, stay where you are!" The prison officer who held the gun demanded, while the other officer put the food tray on the floor.
The Hood smirked. "Now officers... What on earth could I do from here?"
The prison officers glared at the Hood and were instantly transfixed when his eyes turned to a penetrating golden yellow.
Info: This was the original point I was going to end the story. The next bit was meant to be a separate one. Decided at the last minute to continue it as one bigger fic.
NEXT: Chapter 28 - 3 Days
#cg29fics#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds fandom#thunderbirds original series#tagficgone#Jeff Tracy#Virgil Tracy#scott tracy#john tracy#alan tracy#gordon tracy#the hood#grandma tracy
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Flower Boy 7- A Rough Day
Here's the next installment. This story takes place in the same world as my Carrot Top series. The masterlist for this one is here.
CW: Manhandling, beatings, multiple whumpees, muzzle, stress positions, brief knife/blood mention, forced to watch, also some comfort/angst.
- - -
“Please- no more- just- just leave me alone.” Jeremy gasped.
The footsteps padded into the room, but they were soft- not heavy boots ready to break ribs or stomp fingers.
“Look at me-”
Jeremy nearly sobbed in relief as the old man knelt in front of him. He gripped the boy’s face, gentle fingers brushing his nose, inspecting his neck, his jaw- running fingers through his hair.
“You’re alright. Anything broken?”
Jeremy shook his head. “I don- don’t think so. Maybe a rib or two?”
Lee nodded. He moved fingers down the boy’s side, prodding gently as the boy hissed. “I think they’re just bruised. Don’t worry, you’ll learn the difference. Are you breathing alright?”
The boy nodded. “Just hurts like hell.” He choked back tears as the man helped him to sitting.
“Come on, you’ll feel better lying down.” The old man helped the boy pull his tanktop back over his head, and then helped him move slowly to his cot on the side of the room.
Jeremy collapsed gratefully on the cot. Lee sat next to him, not saying a word as the boy fell, his head falling into the man’s lap.
“I don’t- I don’t know what I did-” Jeremy whispered. “I- I tried to do- to do what he wanted- he just-”
“It’s- it’s alright.” The man stated, trying to relieve the tension in his own body as this kid trembled next to him. It had been so long since he’d had a new roommate. They’d come and gone through the years, but they’d all been transferred. They were familiar with how things worked already but this kid- he- he was so scared. It almost reminded him of himself years ago. Too many years ago.
“It just- I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I’m tired of hurting.”
Jeremy was crying. His tears fell down to the cot as he curled in on himself, shaking and trembling in a mixture of fear and pain. Lee had seen this too many times.
The punishments, the brainwashing or procedures or whatever, that was all justified. But it was a power play.
Guards and handlers doing whatever they wanted in the name of discipline. Taking things too far- too many accidents, or little slip ups that were always the prisoner's fault. Never being accountable for what happened, and they were always the ones who suffered for it.
But there was nothing they could do.
- - -
“Move it twelve. Come on, is it nap time or something? Get back to work!”
The old man winced as he was kicked, and struggled to get to his feet. Apparently it wasn’t fast enough as he was grabbed by the throat and wrenched upwards.
He knew enough not to fight. But his instincts kicked in and he gripped the handler’s wrists, trying to find some air.
“Come on! You don’t get a break unless everyone else does. What makes you think you’re special?”
Prisoner twelve shook his head as he was thrown to the ground.
“I’m sorry sir.” He repeated the phrase that had been drilled into him for the past few decades of his life. All he needed was a second to catch his breath. He had only been transferred to the gardens for a few weeks now.
For a naturebender, it was the best option. You knew you were lucky if you were put to work there. It meant your skills weren’t special enough for the experiments, but you weren’t deemed useless just yet. And for an older naturebender like 12- who was too old and useless for the experiments anyways- he knew this was his last resort before he was disposed of.
But still- for a man of his age- after being beaten and broken for years- it was backbreaking work. He had taken a second to sit down- his legs unable to hold his weight for much longer. But the few moments of breath weren’t worth his punishment.
“Position one- now.”
The man moved to sit on his knees, letting his head hang on his chest.
He had been in this situation too often for him to know begging would get him nowhere.
The handler picked up a large branch that had fallen nearby, and crashed it down against the prisoner’s back. Number twelve bit back a cry, clenching his teeth hard as another blow came down.
With the next strike he keeled forward behind a groan, letting the pain take it’s course through his body with the next blow- and the next- and the next.
Finally the handler realized his fun was over. There was no reaction- no begging or crying, and he threw the branch to the ground with a huff.
"Get back to work."
“Y-yes sir.” Twelve answered at the command.
He bit back a cry of pain as he rose to his feet- continuing on with his work, clenching his teeth as he staggered.
When he was finally led back to his cell, he wasn’t shocked to see the boy in a heap on the floor. He was saddened, but this wasn’t an unfamiliar sight.
Lee winced as he leaned against the wall, the boy’s head resting on his lap. They were both too bruised and beaten for anything else, so the two of them fell asleep, exactly as they were.
- - -
Prisoner 326 had not been a compliant prisoner.
The test results had come back, with the discovery that he was a nature bender.
However, the kid had refused to participate willingly in any experiments, tests, or evaluations concerning his powers. While some hesitation was usually normal, straight up refusal was rare. After all, you can’t force someone to use their powers, so the past two months had been filled with useless attempts, endless punishments, and nights full of pain and anguish for 326.
It became a sort of routine for Jeremy and the old man. Lee would come back from his day of work, exhausted, sometimes battered and beaten, to find the kid bruised, or bloody, lying in a heap on the floor. He’d clean them up, tend to any injuries, and they’d fall asleep for the night, oftentime with the younger boy resting his head on the older man’s lap.
Lee had never had the chance to find a partner. He was taken around the boy’s age, after all, and had spent the rest of his life in this facility. So he imagined Jeremy as the son he never had- some sort of paternal instinct coming over him as he watched over the kid, holding him as he cried, or spoon feeding him when he was too battered to do so himself. It pained him to see the kid in constant pain.
Lee wanted to tell the kid to just give up.
Convince him to just give them what they wanted and do as he was told. But some part of him inside hoped the kid would keep fighting. That he wouldn’t lose that stubbornness or defiance, when Lee himself had given up all his dignity so long ago.
It had been a particularly rough day.
Handler Barrett had been fuming because of something. He had taken the opportunity to lash out at Jeremy. The poor kid was littered in cuts and lashes- and to make matters worse, he had used the electric baton- angering all the cuts until they were red and swollen.
Poor Jeremy had broken into sobs as soon as the handler had left. His muscles were spasming, arms and legs throbbing with pain, and he was so exhausted. He was still sobbing when Lee finally came back.
He had held the boy, and fed him dinner, slowly trying to get more energy and strength back into him. Once Jeremy didn’t have any energy to even sip at some water, Lee had taken him in his arms.
They sat in a heap on the floor as he sobbed, his body shaking.
Hours later Handler Barrett had charged into the room.
Jeremy burst awake from where he had fallen asleep, and he began to tremble once more.
“What is going on here!” The man shouted. He pulled Lee away from the boy, grabbing him by the throat and hauling him to his feet. “Do you think this is allowed?”
Instantly the old man reverted to his training. The years of ingrained responses and replies becoming second nature.
“No sir. I’m sorry sir.” He tried to choke out breath as his feet began to leave the floor.
“You’re allowed to clean him up, help with his injuries, per my instruction. Anything else, is not allowed. Do you understand!” The man was screaming in prisoner twelve’s face.
“Yes sir!” He replied as he strangled for breath.
“Good. Now stay on your cot. I’ve got to deal with this situation.”
“Yes sir.” Lee scrambled back against the wall, gripping his throat as he was released to the floor. He hung his head low as Jeremy was grabbed and dragged to the opposite side of the room.
“N-no- no please, sir- please-”
“Quiet. Not a sound.”
Jeremy choked back a sob as his body was manhandled over to the wall. He fell in a heap as the man retrieved a few items from the cabinet.
“Position two. Now.”
Jeremy’s body shook as he pulled himself up to his knees, his wrists behind his back.
“I- I’m sorry sir- please-”
“I said not a sound!” Jeremy flinched as Handler Barrett yelled, a hand coming towards his face. But it wasn’t a slap. Instead the man grabbed his chin, forcing his lips open as something was shoved behind his teeth. Leather encircled his face, buckling behind his head and Jeremy soon found he couldn’t open or close his mouth.
Tears and fury built up inside of him as he realized he’d been muzzled.
“Well, two months of this and I’m surprised I haven’t used it yet.” The handler chuckled as Jeremy’s face grew red. “It suits you.”
The man pulled Jeremy’s wrists from behind his back and cuffed them together above his head, forcing him against the wall. The boy squirmed as he tried to find a comfortable position, one that didn’t put so much strain on his wrists and shoulders.
One ankle was grabbed and locked into a cuff that was attached to the end of a metal rod. The other was locked in on the other side, forcing his ankles apart, and his knees spread wide.
Jeremy winced as his body was manhandled into position, his feet flush against the wall, legs apart, his hands arching high above his head to keep him a painful angle against the wall.
Finally, a chain wrapped around his neck- two- three times, before it locked into the wall behind him.
Handler Barrett stood back, looking at the boy.
His chest rose and fell in a panicked rhythm, the cuts and burns from earlier still visible against his skin.
Jeremy squirmed in a panic as he found himself unable to move.
His legs spread apart by the bar between his ankles, wrists pressed flush against the wall above his head, and his neck chained in place. Any movement to alleviate the strain on his spine caused the chains to cinch tighter against his throat. There was no way he could adjust himself to be any sort of comfortable. Already his muscles had started to burn from the strain of being forced in the position.
He closed his eyes tight- trying to find some sort of focus.
They shot open once more as he heard the sound of cracking bone.
Lee had been pulled from the cot onto the floor. A fist, struck right into his ribs, followed by a thick boot.
The man gasped- eyes growing wide as he was struck over and over again.
“Look at him!” Handler Barrett yelled. He grabbed the old man by what little hair he had left, forcing him on his knees. “This is your fault kid.”
Jeremy met the man’s eyes. They were distant- staring off numbly into space.
Lee had learned to shut off everything he knew. To separate his body from his mind- and go somewhere else. Anywhere else- as his body was beaten and tormented over the years. Decades of constant torture let him learn how to let the pain take it’s toll. Let it do what it will throughout the body, take it’s time, and bring yourself somewhere else.
Jeremy tugged against the chains at the sight of the man. He yanked at his wrists until they were raw and throbbing- blood beginning to seep down his arms. He cried and screamed through the muzzle as the man was brutally beaten in front of him.
When Handler Barrett was finished, he approached the boy slowly from where he was across the room. He wiped away some blood from his knuckles, flexing the fingers in his hand. That same hand gripped the boy tightly under the chin, tears leaking from his eyes.
“You understand that this was your fault. You chose to misbehave.” He waved a hand to the old man, coughing and shaking on the ground. “This, was all your fault. You don’t speak unless spoken to. You don’t ask for anything. And you don’t do a single thing, unless ordered to directly.” Jeremy’s eyes stayed on the old man- waiting for some sign of semblance that he was okay. The handler forced his face back towards him, blocking his view of his cellmate.
“Do you understand me!” He yelled.
Jeremy could feel spit flying onto his face. But it was already littered with so much tears and sweat, that it made no difference.
The boy nodded slowly, unable to say a word with the heavy bit in his mouth- the leather encircling his face.
The man patted the side of his cheek before giving it a harsh slap, sending Jeremy’s head wrenching to the side.
“That’s a good boy.”
Jeremy gasped as the chains cinched around his neck. He pressed himself further against the wall to try and find some relief.
Handler Barrett gave the old man one last kick to the side as he walked out of the room.
“No you two sit there and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”
The door was shut, and they were left alone.
Drenched in pain, fear, concern- completely unable to move.
Tag List: @imagination1reality0 @morning-star-whump @deltaxxk @whumpcereal @his-unspoken-words
#whump#whump writing#ocs#my ocs#flower boy#superpowered whump#manhandling#beaten#stress position#multiple whumpees#forced to watch#muzzled
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Billy Lenz general HCs
Just kinda an introduction to how I’ll write him, first headcanons in a while <3
Also please correct any typos, i didnt quite edit it 🫶
He has echolalia (This was not my original idea! If you know the fic that i got this from, pls tell me ) Billy repeats phrases and noises he hears. Surprisingly, they’ll sound as accurate to the original sound as they can because of how much he repeats it. This man cannot be silent AT ALL
No matter all the dirty and naughty things Billy says over the phone, he cannot handle physical touch that isn’t sexual (even that can be tough at first) it can be overwhelming and an unusual feeling. Like..soft touches…whats that? You’ll have to slowly work your way up without startling or triggering him
But yes he’s touch starved, once you guys have been together for a while and get more comfortable, he’ll definitely be clingy as hell. Will still have his moments where he wants to be alone and scurry to his lil attic, just be there for him :)
I imagine him being loud all the time, he’s so used to screaming and yelling profanities in the phone. When you’re talking, sometimes he won’t even realize when his voice is getting louder and louder until you politely tell him to lower his voice or he realizes that he’s screaming. And oh boy, especially when he’s telling you about something…he’s gonna start babbling very loud
Of course he can manage most things by himself, have you seen his hands in the movie? His nails are rlly well kept tbh, his hair isnt too much of a mess (besides tangles, pls comb and run your hands through his hair. Feral man honestly might start purring) but PLS TEACH HIM HOW TO TAKE A BATH
Besides making dirty phone calls, you’ll learn that he actually has other hobbies. I imagine him to like doodling and maybe making some easy crafts (just dont leave him alone with liquid glue please) introduce him to calming activities you could do together!
~~ nsfw warning
And of course, horny man. He can be quite selfish at first and you probably won’t finish. Teach him how to make you both feel nice and you’ll have the time of your life
clearly doesn’t like to feel restrained or degraded, be nice to him <3
#slashers x reader#billy lenz x reader#billy lenz#billy lenz imagine#headcanons#slasher imagines#the moaner#black christmas#slasher headcanons
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Prompt (on AO3): Viktor having to give birth naturally either due to complications or because he didn't realize he was in active labor until it was too late to perform a C-section. I can imagine Viktor becoming more feral during labor but also switching back and forth between hissing at Jayce to leave him alone and a desperate neediness for comfort and safety. Jayce is just along for the ride
This is not at all how I think birth would go in Piltover especially considering their social positions but it’s what I wanted to write and honestly as much as I do enjoy it writing birth scenes is fucking hard and sometimes I just got to do whatever it is my brain wants instead of what’s the most ‘realistic’.
I also watched and read so many supportive partner in birth stories to help write this. The algorithm is really convinced I’m like 8 months pregnant at this stage.
Tags: mpreg, omegaverse, childbirth (literally this is all just childbirth – dead dove do not read and all that)
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Jayce wakes when Viktor shakes him. Sleep quickly vanishing from his mind.
“Are you okay?” Jayce asks because they are in the last days of Viktor’s pregnancy and his partner’s expression is tense.
“I think it may be, ah, go time,” Viktor says. The phrase being the one Jayce has been using whenever he thought Viktor might be in labor.
A second later it hits him what Viktor is saying.
He’s in labor.
“Shit, uh, are you sure?” Jayce regrets the question as soon as the words leave his mouth, but he can feel the flood of emotions in him rising and needs to know whether it might be a false alarm.
“I thought they might be false contractions,” Viktor says, adjusting in the bed to sit up better. “But my waters just broke, so, ah, yes, I am sure.”
“Okay,” Jayce says despite feeling anything but it. He’s excited and terrified and oh gods they’re about to have their baby.
He swallows it all down because right now Viktor needs him calm and focused. He’s got to be the strong one.
“Okay,” Jayce repeats, forcing himself to keep breathing. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” Viktor says, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “Don’t go.”
“I need to call the midwife.” And also gather water and towels and everything else they need for the birth.
“I know, but just stay, for now. I need you here,” Viktor says, his grip tight on Jayce’s wrist.
“Okay.” The midwife can wait. If Viktor’s water only just broke they still have some time to go and keeping Viktor as comfortable as possible was important too. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just stay,” Viktor says, leaning forward to rest his head against Jayce’s shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jayce promises, running a hand through Viktor’s hair that is already damp from his sweat. He wonders how long Viktor had been awake from the contractions before he decided to wake Jayce up as well. Wishes Viktor had just woke him up instead of waiting for his waters to break to be sure.
“Good,” Viktor says, before his grip on Jayce goes tight and his breathe more tense, coming out in an almost whine.
“Was that?” Jayce asks when Viktor relaxes again, leaning slack against him.
Viktor hums in confirmation and Jayce looks at the clock on the wall of the room to make a mental note of the time.
2:14AM.
It’s 2:36 when the next contraction comes. Jayce rubbing against Viktor’s arms as his partner leans into him in an attempt to comfort him through it.
It’s another 18 minutes before the next one. 29 the one after that.
Jayce just holds Viktor between them. Helping to adjust him to mitigate the strain of the weight of the pregnancy on his knee and back.
“How bad are they?” Jayce asks.
“Bearable so far,” Viktor says, resting back against the pillows Jayce helped pile up for him, his legs naturally falling open with a dark stain visible on the seat of his pants from where his waters broke.
“Do you want to take your pants off?” Jayce asks. They must be uncomfortable and gross to still have on.
Viktor gives a little laugh at the question.
“What’s funny?”
“That question is how we ended up in this situation,” Viktor says. “But, ah, yes, if you would help me get them off that would be appreciated.”
“Yeah, of course.”
It’s a little awkward, the fabric wanting to stick to Viktor’s skin and Viktor struggling to be able to lift his hips for long. But Jayce manages to peel the pants off and toss them to be dealt with later. Just in time before the next contraction hits.
Viktor curses through the contraction. The position he is in an awkward one. Jayce tries to let him brace against him but it doesn’t seem to help much.
“That one was bad?” Jayce asks, running a hand through Viktor’s hair as Viktor pants against his chest.
“What do you think?” Viktor snarls before whimpering as he tries to move.
“Let me help.”
Viktor shoots him a glare and Jayce accepts the cue to back off. After another attempt Viktor slumps against the pillows out of breathe.
Jayce still doesn’t dare move.
“Actually I would like some help,” Viktor says with a pained grimace.
“Of course.”
Mostly Jayce moves pillows or lets Viktor brace against him as he adjusts to be sitting up a bit more. The pillows helping support his back and sides.
“Better?” Jayce asks as Viktor relaxes into the new spot.
“A little,” Viktor says, shutting his eyes, already looking tired.
Jayce rubs along his partner’s bare thing in a hopefully reassuring gesture.
“Do you need anything else?”
“A blanket,” Viktor says after a moment. “I am getting too cold and the quilt is too heavy.”
Jayce is already up to dig through the top of the wardrobe for every blanket they had before Viktor even started his justification. If Viktor needed a blanket Jayce would get them all to ensure he got the right one.
“Which one?” Jayce asks, holding the full pile so Viktor can see them all.
Viktor raises an eyebrow at it.
“The top one is fine.”
“Alright,” Jayce says, putting the pile down next to the bed. “The rest are here if you need more.”
“One is enough for now,” Viktor says as Jayce spreads the requested blanket over him. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” Really, it’s all Jayce can do to help Viktor with the labor. “Can I call the midwife now?”
Viktor hums in agreement before his face scrunches in pain. His hand reaching out and Jayce takes it moving in closer. He lets Viktor squeeze his hand tight and lean against him as he rides out the contraction. The fact Viktor is already panting to help manage the pain of it tugs at Jayce’s heart.
“I got you,” Jayce says, moving closer so he can hug his partner and mate. “Whatever you need to do to get through this I’m with you.”
“You shouldn’t promise things like that,” Viktor mutters, his body relaxing with the contraction having passed.
“Why not?”
Viktor seems to consider the question for a minute, looking up at Jayce as he does.
“It doesn’t matter,” Viktor says as he leans back against the pillows with a sigh. “I will be fine for a little by myself – go call the midwife.”
Jayce presses a kiss against Viktor’s sweaty forehead before leaving.
He tries not to take longer than necessary. The phone call quick and only including the most relevant information – the timing between contractions, the fact Viktor’s water had broken, how the pain level seemed to be – the midwife confirming she would be on her way. Towels and water quickly collected, letting Jayce return to Viktor’s side again.
It’s all forgotten at the sight of Viktor doubled over and clenching the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. A pained hiss filling the room.
The contraction is over by the time Jayce crosses the room to his partner’s side. But Viktor remains bent over himself as he continues to clench and unclench his hands in the sheets.
“Fifty seconds. They are starting to get strong,” Viktor says, as if he is giving a report of the progress of one of his projects and not how much pain he is currently experiencing for their child to be born.
Pain Jayce can do nothing about.
“The midwife’s on her way,” Jayce says, not knowing what else to say in comfort.
“Okay,” Viktor says, staring at the foot of the bed. “I think I want to be on my side.”
“Sure, do you need my help moving?”
Viktor seems to mull the question over before shutting his eyes with a soft whine.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” he says, opening his eyes against to glance at Jayce.
“Not at all.”
The pillows get rearranged again to be comfortable for Viktor on his side. One slightly under his back to help support it and another under his bad leg.
Jayce kneels on the floor on the side of the bed to still be able to see Viktor’s face.
“Comfortable?” Jayce asks, resting his head on the bed and reaching out to grab hold of Viktor’s hand.
“It is better,” Viktor says, but he winces as he goes to shift slightly.
“How’s the pain?”
“Painful,” Viktor says with a dry smile. “I will be alright though.”
“I know.” As far as Jayce is concerned Viktor is the strong one of the two of them. The amount of discomfort and pain he can manage much more than Jayce would ever be able to bare. “I still don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to-“
“Of course I do, we’re partners right?” Jayce says, cutting Viktor off before he can even suggest Jayce should leave. “And while I can’t take the pain for you the least I can do is be by your side and let you squeeze my hand and swear at me over it.”
“I have not sworn at you,” Viktor says, sounding offended.
“No you haven’t. But you can and I promise I won’t be offended or take it to heart,” Jayce says with a gentle squeeze of Viktor’s hand.
Viktor shuts his eyes at it. A second later his brow furrows and his grip on Jayce’s hand tightens as another contraction washes over him. The pain-filled whine he makes at it feels like a knife into Jayce’s heart.
“Come on V, you gotta’ breathe through it,” Jayce says, his other hand coming up to rest against Viktor’s forehead. There’s no way Viktor is taking a breath from how consistent the pained noise he is making is and Jayce is pretty sure they covered in all the things he read about birth that it was important to breathe through them.
Viktor takes a breath with a gasp before going right back to groaning through the contraction. And there isn’t anything Jayce can do but let his partner cling to him and keep reminding him to breathe. And Jayce hates that he can’t do more to help.
Viktor slumps when the contraction ends. His eyes wet when he opens them to look at Jayce and Jayce hates how useless he is right now all the more.
“I’m sorry this is so painful for you.” It really isn’t fair that for them to have their child Viktor must go through so much pain while Jayce gets to just watch.
“It will be worth it,” Viktor says. His hand not holding Jayce’s moving to rest on his stomach.
Jayce wants to protest but the doorbell ringing through the apartment stops him.
“That’s probably the midwife,” Jayce says, despite knowing Viktor likely knows that. Feels like he has to leave Viktor’s side to get it.
“Hopefully she has drugs,” Viktor jokes. A sentiment Jayce agrees on.
The midwife wastes little time when Jayce greets her at the door. Going through a similar list of question to when Jayce called her – what was the timing between and of contractions? What positions had Viktor been staying in? How was the pain he was in?
Jayce answers them all to the best of his ability. Matching her quick pass as he leads her to the bedroom where she stops dead and faces him.
“And how are you going?” she asks.
“Me? I’m fine.” Well he wasn’t exactly fine but his freak out was nothing compared to Viktor’s pain. “I mean how I am doing doesn’t matter. It’s Viktor that’s important right now.”
“Right answer,” the midwife says with a sly smile. “Now come on time to become a dad.”
Viktor hadn’t moved from how Jayce left him. Still curled on his side under the blanket. The pain he is in clear and Jayce hopes there is something that can be done to ease it.
“How are you doing Viktor?” the midwife asks, walking over to the side of the bed and resting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.
“I would like the gas now,” Viktor says.
“Alright,” the midwife says, taking her hand away, “but can you roll over for me first so I can check how far along you are first?”
“Jayce?” Viktor’s tone makes it clear he is asking for help.
“I’m right here,” Jayce says, coming to Viktor’s side and helping his partner back onto his back. Letting Viktor lean against him as the midwife pushes the blanket up for her examination.
“8 centimeters,” she says once she’s done, covering Viktor back up as she goes to get the gas canister that will hopefully make the pain easier for him. “Not long now.”
“You’re doing great,” Jayce says, pressing a kiss against Viktor’s sweat-damp forehead.
“There is nothing great about this,” Viktor snaps before another contraction overtakes him.
The midwife hands the mask for the gas up to Jayce with a promise that it will help. The fact Viktor grips his wrist firmly to prevent him from taking it away means indicates that it must be doing something.
The next contractions pass similarly, the gas helping but still leaving Viktor groaning in pain. Jayce trying to provide what comfort and support he can.
“I need to push,” Viktor gasps as he tenses with another contraction.
“Are you sure?” Jayce asks because he can feel his own heart-rate spiking at the words despite the fact he knows it was going to happen at some point and that it was necessary for their child to be born.
“Yes. I am sure,” Viktor snarls and Jayce realizes he probably deserves it. But he feels like his panic is justified because he realizes that Viktor’s pain is probably about to get worse and Jayce already feels useless about it.
“Just breathe through this one and I’ll check if you are good to push on the next one,” the midwife says.
Viktor nods and pants through the contraction, his grip on the sheets and Jayce’s arm tight.
“You alright?” the midwife asks as Viktor relaxes again.
“As much I could expect to be,” Viktor says.
“Am I good to check?” the midwife asks. Pushing the blanket up only after Viktor nods. “Yeah you’re ready.”
Jayce forces himself to swallow and breathe. He’s no good to Viktor if he panics even if it all suddenly feels more terrifying than it had minutes ago. The fact he sees Viktor brace and take a purposeful breath makes the panic harder to push down.
“Remember I won’t blame you if you need to swear at me,” Jayce says, because it’s the least you can do. “Whatever you need to do.”
“What if I need to break your hand?” Viktor asks with a squeeze of Jayce’s hand that feels almost like a test.
“It will heal,” Jayce says. Not that he is overly concerned of it. Viktor may have stronger grip strength than expected of his designation and slight built but it isn’t that strong right?
Jayce is brought from his thoughts by Viktor’s grip going tight. A guttural noise coming out of him as he braces and pushes.
“That’s it,” the midwife says, sitting on her knees between Viktor’s spread legs. “Just like that.”
“You got this,” Jayce says, not entirely sure if it is a question or a statement.
“I don’t really have a choice at this point,” Viktor says, relaxing slightly and catching his breath between the contractions.
“I know and I’m sorry.” Jayce wishes Viktor didn’t have to go through this for their child. Wishes there was an easier way.
If Viktor was going to respond it is abandoned to the next contraction. Viktor cursing through it across both the languages he knows. Jayce letting him make good on an attempt to break his hand while telling him how sorry he is, how good a job Viktor is doing, and how strong he is for doing this.
Viktor doesn’t given any indication whether Jayce’s words are helping even between the contractions when the swearing stops and Viktor clearly regathers himself for the next one.
“You’re starting to crown,” the midwife says. “You’re nearly there.”
Jayce doesn’t know if he would agree with that statement but it has been hours since Viktor woke him up. The sun now high outside the curtains of the room. So perhaps comparatively they are close to being done even if the biggest hurdle of it all still remains.
“How does it feel?” Jayce asks and knows it is the wrong thing to say as he says it.
“Like your child is going to split me in half,” Viktor says, whimpering with the next contraction. “Oh gods, why are they so big?”
“Because they’re healthy,” the midwife informs. “And you’ll be fine just go slow.”
“Slow?” Viktor repeats after a second.
“Yes, it will help prevent you from tearing.”
Jayce doesn’t like the sound of any of that and going by the expression on Viktor’s face neither does he.
“They really are going to split me in half,” Viktor says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. And while the words aren’t aimed at Jayce he still feels even more guilty for his involvement in getting Viktor into this state.
“I’m sorry-“
“You can make it up to me by getting a vasectomy after,” Viktor says after his next contraction.
“How about we talk about that after.” Jayce does get it. Because he also doesn’t want Viktor to have to go through this again. But he doesn’t know if he’s ready to agree to that level of prevention just yet.
“And I’m getting my womb removed,” Viktor adds, making Jayce suspect he isn’t really listening anymore. “Why did they have to inherit your stupid big head?”
“I thought you liked my head?” Sure Viktor had never flat out said it but he had strongly implied it. And, well, they had become partners because of Viktor liking the things that came out of Jayce’s head.
“I don’t right now,” Viktor says before swearing again with the next contraction. This time the words sounding a bit more aimed at Jayce and not just the situation as a whole.
“You’re still doing great,” the midwife says. “Just a little more and their head will be out and you can take a break for a bit.”
“A little more Vik,” Jayce repeats. “You can do it.”
A little more is still a number of contractions and Viktor’s swearing getting more and more aimed at Jayce. Not that Jayce takes it personally – he is technically responsible for the pain Viktor is in.
“There we go, heads out,” the midwife says, her hands right up between Viktor’s legs. “Try not to push for a minute for me.”
“This does not feel like a break,” Viktor mutters, his grip on Jayce’s hand still tight as his breathe is purposely even.
“Can’t be much more now,” Jayce says because surely the rest can’t be as difficult as their head had been right?
“Once they get into position and their shoulders are out they’ll come a lot easier,” the midwife informs. “You’ll have them in your arms soon.”
And then they can deal with the reality of being parents.
“Okay. You can push on the next contraction.”
“Just a little bit more,” Jayce promises.
Viktor swears through the next few contractions until suddenly he gasps as the midwife gives a triumphant sound.
“Congratulations, it’s a boy!” she says, handing something pink and slimy up to Jayce.
It’s only after he’s bundled it up against Viktor’s chest and covered it with a towel that’s handed up after that it hits him that it’s their child. Their son crying at the sensations of the world and the ordeal he’d just been through.
“He’s healthy yes?” Viktor asks, his hand not still holding Jayce’s pushing the towel down slightly to get a better look. Jayce’s free hand immediately going to help him so he can see their son as well.
“Yes,” the midwife says still busying herself with things Jayce can’t really find himself to care about. “I’ll check him over properly in a bit but he seems a healthy, happy little boy. Well, maybe not happy right now but once he adjusts to this new world I’m sure he will be.”
“I-“ Viktor starts before looking up at Jayce. “He looks like you.”
“He looks perfect.” Jayce doesn’t know if he can really recognize anyone in the baby’s squished features but he’s struggling to even try and draw comparisons, instead just wanting to memorize what his son looks like. “You did such a good job V.”
Viktor hums in agreement.
“I was working with good materials,” he says. Which honestly feels like giving Jayce way too much credit even if he knows Viktor’s talking about his own genes as well.
Because the baby is a mix of both of them. Hopefully the best of both of them. And Jayce still can’t believe they get to be able to watch him grow.
#Jayvik#Vikjayce#mpreg#arcane mpreg#Omegaverse#Arcane omegaverse#jayce arcane#jayce x viktor#jayce/viktor#viktor arcane#childbirth#tw childbirth#anon prompt#prompt fill#prompt fic
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