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#also enjoying contemplating what warning tags I'll have to put on it when the time comes
willalove75 · 11 months
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Rebecca Welton x fem!wife!reader Pt. 2
Pairing: Rebecca Welton x f!reader
Summary: Rebecca brings surprise guests to lunch!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI
Tags: flirty, fluff, domestic fluff
Notes: Part 2!
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You begin to tell the whole story as you flashback to the night you met Rebecca.
You see Rebecca sitting at the bar alone, the person she was with having just left, and there's a look of disappointment on her face. You feel bad for her and your friends notice and all agree to drag her into the group and adopt her for the night. Your one friend, Alyssa, walks up to Rebecca and chats her up and gestures to us. To your surprise, you watch as Rebecca gets up and walks over with Alyssa. You look her up and down as she walks over. Her green dress hugging her curves perfectly as it shows off her impressive chest, tiny waist and perfectly round hips with legs a mile long. She looks like she was cut from marble by Michelangelo himself. You look up at her and you meet her gaze, you blush a little as you exchange smiles.
"Girls, this is Rebecca!" She says. "Rebecca, this is Sam, Katie, y/n, and Tori."
You all greet Rebecca and begin to chat. You order more drinks and you all laugh, drink, talk about a variety of things and genuinely enjoy each others company.
11pm hits and your girls have run out of steam, they get their things and start getting ready to leave when you object.
"Oh come on! It's not even midnight!!" You argue.
They apologize but insist on going back to the hotel down the street.
"Come on, this is the first time I've been out since-" You stop yourself, you haven't mentioned the baby and you still have mixed feelings about telling people about her right away. "in like six months! More than that!"
They are steadfast in their decision and don't budge. Disappointed, you go to grab your jacket.
"If you want, I can stay here with you. I'm not quite ready to go up for the night either." Rebecca says, looking at you.
"Hell yeah!"
The girls ask how you're going to get back and Rebecca looks confused. You see her face and tell her that you guys booked a hotel down the street and she nods.
"I'll just take an Uber! I promise I'll text you when I leave the hotel and get to ours!"
Your friends agree to the compromise and they say their goodbyes and head out. You and Rebecca head to the bar and take up two unoccupied seats.
You both order drinks and laugh and talk. You talk about where you grew up, how you're only about an hour train ride away from the city in the suburbs. She talks about where she grew up in England. The later it gets, the flirtier the two of you become. Her gently rubbing her leg against yours, you placing your hand on her arm. You two lean in close to each other to hear what the other is saying, but also just to get close to each other.
The bartender calls out that the bar is closing in 10 minutes and you both look disappointed as you finish your drinks.
"Is it insane that I don't want to leave yet?" You ask her sheepishly. "I mean, I've just been having a really good time. I haven't been out in over six months and I really haven't talked to anyone outside of my little circle since. It's nice." You say as you smile at her, a little embarrassed by your statement.
"No, it's not insane at all. I don't want the night to end either." She says as she rests her hand on your arm.
You both sit there for another minute and the bar closes. You leave the bar and stand in the lobby. You notice Rebecca look away and purse her lips, as if she's contemplating something. She exhales and looks at you.
"Would you want to come up to my room?" She seems embarrassed after asking and tries to make a save. "I mean, you don't have to, but I just thought-"
"I would love to." You say, looking into her eyes.
You text your friends that you're not leaving the hotel and your phone explodes with questions, teases and a lot of covert, sexual emojis. You put your phone on do not disturb and put it away.
Rebecca grabs your hand and leads you to the elevator. You both get in and the doors shut. You're standing shoulder to shoulder, your backs against the wall and your fingers are loosely entangled together. You both steal glances at each other as the elevator ascends. You go to make a move and the elevator stops, the doors open and a man walks in. You both look at each other and quietly giggle. The man gets off at the next floor.
As soon as the door closes Rebecca grabs your face and presses her lips against yours. You're a little taken back at first, but your hands immediately go to her hips as you pull her closer to you as she pins you between the wall and herself. She kisses you hard and passionately, you can't remember the last time someone kissed you like that. She gently licks your bottom lip and you part your lips, inviting her in. Her tongue slides into your mouth and begins to explore as you do the same. Rebecca breaks the kiss and begins to kiss and suckle on your neck. You haven't been this turned on in a long time.
A thought crosses your mind and you debate with yourself for a second and stop Rebecca.
"Wait," you say gently pushing her off a little. She looks down at you, insecurity and worry cross her face as you stop her. "There's something I have to tell you and I always go back and fourth with it because it freaks some people out but I feel like it's something I have to tell you if we go any further." Rebecca continues to look into your eyes, apprehensive of what you're about to say next.
"I have a daughter, Sophia. She's six months old and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I always go back and fourth about telling people because they freak out or leave if I tell them too soon but," You look into her eyes. "I just had to let you know before we keep going."
You notice a shift in her eyes, the insecurity and worry changes into happiness and you think you sense a little longing.
"You have a daughter?" She asks with wide eyes, you nod.
You pause for a second before asking "Do you want to see a picture of her?"
Excitement flashes across her eyes and she smiles at you.
"Yes, I would love to."
You reach her floor and exit, you both take a seat in the chairs near the elevators and you pull up pictures of Sophia and give your phone to Rebecca. Admiration crosses her face as she looks at the photos. You see a little bit of sadness in her eyes, you can tell this touches a nerve you know nothing about.
Rebecca looks up at you.
"Is her dad-" She stops herself, afraid she overstepped.
"Nope, he waved his rights the minute she was born. She's all mine." You say as you look lovingly at the pictures of your baby.
Rebecca continues to look through pictures and you ask "Do you have-" and you stop yourself, not wanting to pry too much.
"No, my ex-husband didn't-" she pauses for a second. "We just never got around to it." You hear sadness in her voice, your heart breaks a little for her. Without even saying it, you can tell it's something she really wanted, but never got.
You study her face for a minute and she looks up at you. You grab her face and kiss her. She's surprised but it doesn't stop her from immediately kissing you back. You both part and she stands up and sticks her hand out.
"Come on."
You grab her hand and she leads you to her room.
The flashback ends and you find yourself back in the restaurant and scan the faces seated at the table. Rebecca is looking at you with love, you can tell she enjoyed taking a trip down memory lane. She grabs your hand and kisses the back of it.
"I love you." She whispers as she puts her forehead to yours.
"I love you too."
"Mommy's! You're squishing me!" Sophia cries in as the tries to push you two apart. Rebecca laughs and leans down to place a kiss on the top of her head.
You look up at the rest of the group and read their reactions. The three of them look like they just heard the most romantic story ever, Higgins with his hand over his heart.
"So, that's the whole story." You say.
"Then you two had wicked sex, right?" Keeley says, half joking.
"Keeley Jones!" Rebecca says swatting at her.
You shrug your shoulders and look up at Rebecca and giggle. Rebecca shakes her head and rolls her eyes and she sips her drink. The food had come out while you were recounting the night you met and you look down to see Sophia munching on her chicken fingers.
"That was just the sweetest story ever," Higgins says wiping a tear from his eye.
"Higgins are you crying?" Rebecca asks.
"I'm right there with ya Higgie Smalls," Ted says wiping at his eye. "That story gives The Notebook a run for it's money, ya know, without the sad soul crushing dying part."
"Mummy" Sophia says as she pulls on Rebecca. Rebecca looks down and Sophie motions for her to come closer so she can whisper something in her ear. Rebecca bends down and Sophia cups her hands around her ear and whispers something. Rebecca looks over at Higgins and back to Sophie. Higgins looks at you and you shrug with an "I have no idea" gesture. Sophie pulls away from Rebecca and looks at her.
"Go ahead and give it to him love," Rebecca says quietly to her.
Sophia hands Rebecca a page from her drawing pad and says "Hold this, please." You were about to tell her to say please, but a sense of pride washes over you as you hear her say it on her own.
Sophie crawls over you and stands next to the table. She reaches her hand out for the drawing and both you and Rebecca say "Please."
"Please." Sophia repeats. She gets the drawing and walks over to Higgins and reaches up to put the drawing on the table.
"Is that for me?" Higgins asks as she climbs into his lap.
"Oh Sophia-" you begin to say.
"Oh it's no worries at all, I have five boys so I'm used to being used as a human jungle gym." He says as he helps her up.
Sophia points out things from her drawing to Higgins, Ted and Keeley, stealing the show. You slide next to Rebecca, she wraps her arm around you and you lean into her. Rebecca looks down at you and lifts your chin up to look at her. Your eyes meet hers, filled with love and happiness, you can't help but smile when you look at her. You both close the space between you and kiss. It goes unnoticed by the table until you hear Sophia.
"EWW!"
Rebecca turns her head towards her and gives her "The Look." A stern look that doesn't require words to tell her she did something wrong. Sophia turns her attention back to her drawing and Rebecca turns back to you and chuckles as she places a kiss on your forehead and leans her head against you. You haven't felt this at peace in a long time, every time you two see each other, it's never for long enough so you try and soak in every second possible.
The waitress clears the table and hands out dessert menu's, neither you or Rebecca object and happily take them. Sophia is bouncing between Higgins, Ted and Keeley, all who assured you they don't mind and think she's adorable. She stops and looks at you.
"Mommy, I have to go potty."
"Okay," you say as you go to get up.
"I'll take her" Rebecca says. You let her out and she grabs Sophie and they walk off to the bathroom. You can't help but fall in love all over again, watching your little girl walk hand-in-hand with Rebecca. The height difference is almost comical as Rebecca completely towers over Sophie in her heels. You also can't help but stare at her ass as she walks away.
"So are you staying?" Keeley asks.
"No, I wish, we're only here for a few weeks." You say disappointed. "But, I do have a surprise for her." You say as you look for a waiter and wave them over. You order champagne for the table and they give you a look.
"Are you?" Keeley asks looking down at your stomach.
"Oh fuck no!" You say as everyone laughs. "Raising one kid when your wife is in a different country is tough enough, I'd lose my mind if I had two of them."
"So how long were you together before you said 'I do'?" Higgins asks.
"Sophie was six months old when we met and she turned one just before we got married. So, about six months."
"Wow that's fast!" Keeley says.
"Yeah, normally I'd think that was crazy, but she lived 4,000 miles away, I had a kid, we just went up to the court house with some friends and family and got it done." You tell them. "And about a year after that, Rebecca adopted Sophia."
You hear a chorus of "aww's" coming from the table.
"I'm convinced she fell in love with Sophie first and just put up with me to be with her in the beginning." You say as you laugh. "But she really is amazing. You guys are lucky you get to see her everyday."
"My boy is back in Kansas, so I commend you." Ted says.
"Yeah so you get it. It sucks. But we make the best of it. She comes to visit us, we'll come here, so we get to see each other more often than I ever imagined which is nice."
"Helps when your wife is rich as fuck." Keeley teases.
"You're telling me! That woman has more money than she knows what to do with. She would spend every penny on that little girl if she could though." You say with a smile as you see them walk back.
You get up and let Rebecca and Sophia slide back in, Sophia insisting on sitting next to Keeley. The waitress comes back with the desserts and another waiter comes with the champagne.
"Oh, what's this for?" Rebecca asks looking at you as she's handed a glass.
"So, I have a little announcement." You say to the table and turn to Rebecca. Confused, but also concerned, she looks into your eyes.
You look into hers and continue.
"So, you know I told you I heard whispers of my company opening a London office," Rebecca's eyes widen with excitement.
"They're opening it aren't they?" She says as you see her eyes dart back and fourth, analyzing your facial expressions.
"Yes," You say. Rebecca goes to speak but you stop her. "And I applied for a transfer to that office and I found out when we got off of the plane this afternoon that it was approved."
You watch as the air leaves Rebecca's lungs, her mouth open in shock and tears welling up in her eyes.
"Wait, so you're-" She says with a shaking voice, her eyes scanning your face.
"We're coming home." You say as tears fall down your cheeks.
"OH MY GOD." Rebecca screams as she grabs you and pulls you into her.
Her strong arms hold you tight as you wrap your arms around her. She buries her face into your neck and grabs your shirt in her fists. You feel her break down in your arms, she hold you tighter and moves one hand and holds the back of your head. You cry the happiest tears you've ever had into her shoulder and hold her tight.
You only part when you feel tiny hands on your shoulder, you look up to see Sophia, looking at the both of you, concerned.
"Mommy's, are you sad?"
"No love," Rebecca says pulling her into her arms. "Mummy's are very, very happy."
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snowdrop-ivy · 1 year
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Danger. | I - The meet
a/n: this is a dream that I had which I thought I'll write. I hope you enjoy! also this is fictional so if there's any errors with the timeline, deal with it ig haha hope you like it! This is the first part of this series! Enjoy. lmk what you think.
Brooklyn, New York 1945
Thousands of people waved and cheered with their flag as the Japanese surrendered effectively ending WW2. Crowds and streets are unpassable and stores are closed which made it hard for Anastasia to go home. She vividly remembered that her father warned her about rounding the streets of New York during this time and for that she mentally slapped her head.
She gave everything to push and scream "Excuse me" to get to her home but she is just getting no where. Tired and annoyed, she decided to take a turn when she saw an alley, an empty one. She groaned and shook off the confetti on her dress.
"What would I do now? This is just great! New York, you are great! Oh bloody hell!" She stomped her Prada shoes.
"You okay there?"
"Oh bollocks!" She screamed. She turned around and saw a man leaning on the wall smoking a cigarette.
"Who are you?" Anastasia asked, holding on to her bag which has a pepper spray.
"I should be asking you that," He said, throwing the cigar and walked up to her. "You don't sound like a local to me."
"A local? What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
He grinned. The light gave a way to his features. Ana was gobsmacked when he saw this bloke in bright setting. Her gaze met his shocking blue orbs. He is what her friends say; gorgeous- short ruffled brown hair, his bright blue orbs protected by dark long eyelashes, his plump pink lips complimenting his tan complexion. Although he looked ragged; wearing an open neck top; letting his dog tag hang, and suspenders with a cargo pants.
He looks danger. But Ana hates danger. Yes, she's feisty and mean but she follows the rules, well most of the time she does, but she hates putting herself in places where she doesn't have control.
"Let me guess- you're British?" he asked, still grinning. God, that will be the death of her.
She cleared her throat. "So what if I am?"
He pursed his lips to prevent his laugh coming out. "Where you going?"
"What does have to do with you?"
"What's your name?"
"What's your name?" Ana reiterated, raising her brows.
"Bucky short for Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes," He said, lighting up another cigarette. He took a step back while Ana fanned the smoke away; she hates it. "Now what's yours? And stop answering questions."
"A soldier?! He's a goddamn soldier!?" Ana mentally said. Ana, once again, hates soldier. Soldiers are what killed his sister which is also the reason why they moved from Edinburgh to Brooklyn. She contemplated whether to answer or not but she thought that this will be the last time they'll see each other so why not.
"Ana short for Anastasia Josephine Holmes."
"A pretty name for a pretty girl."
Oh, please! Ana rolled her eyes at the line. How many times has she heard that the moment she stepped into this city that never sleeps.
Bucky laughed when she saw her eyes rolled. He can tell that she has heard that before but the difference now is that he means it. Bucky never thought that someone would go in his way on a day like this. Sure, drunken couples who wish to have a privacy but he never expected that a prim and proper English woman would come on his way, let alone talk to him.
"So... Ana, where are you heading to?" He asked. He noticed that he swayed the smoke so he tossed it on the ground and put his hands on his pockets.
"I was going home."
"Where's that?"
"Why would I tell you?"
This time he let out a laugh. She looked annoyed at him buggering her. This woman is feisty.
Ana raised her brow when he laughed. What is so funny? She looked back and saw people are decreasing. Good, now she can go home.
"I'm gonna go," She said and started walking, trying not to look back and look at his dangerous eyes.
He raised his brows and nodded. "See you around?"
Ana stopped on her tracks and slightly turned, giving her the pleasure to see him last time. "Oh, I hope not."
Bucky laughed louder this time as he watched her getting tangled into the streets of Brooklyn.
He wondered if he'll ever see her face again—her curly waist length auburn hair styled with a bow half up do, her curled eyelashes matched her brown almond eyes, and those lips, oh man, her red heart shaped lips.
Ana sheepishly took of her coat after an exhausting commute to get home. She went straight to kitchen where she was met by her father and brother who was drinking tea.
"Hey," Her father, Truman, greeted her. "Where'd you go?"
"Just took a lap around," She answered and sat with them while she listened to them talk about the nonchalant things boys talk about. Ana drank tea while thinking again, which she should not, about those blue eyes.
And the danger it will bring.
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scuttle-buttle · 3 years
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Chapter 11
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WC: 2077
Rated: E
Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort
🧠
The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.
Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.
Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.
"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.
"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."
You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.
You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."
The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.
You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.
The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.
Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.
Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.
His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"
"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.
"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.
Bubble popped.
Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.
Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."
You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."
Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."
He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"
"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.
"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."
Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.
Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.
Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.
"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.
"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."
He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”
As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.
“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.
Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.
“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.
Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.
But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.
You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.
“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”
“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.
You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”
Tag list
@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams
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The Same bed - Chapter 4
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Friends are there to help each other out, but can they help falling for each other when all the long days they spend together turn into late nights they have and their reliance on each other.
Word count: 2544
Warnings: Fluff, angst, description of blood and injuries, nightmares, slow burn.
A/N: Chapter 4! Off we go. Read it enjoy and I’ll see you on the other side. There’s also a tag list, so be sure to tell me if you want in, as well as a masterlist so be sure to check it out. As are the latests, Unbeta’d all mistakes are mine.
Series masterlist 
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Dean didn't sleep that night, too busy cursing himself for hurting Y/N and simultaneously afraid he may have a nightmare. He had gotten up several times with the intention of going to her room and seeking forgiveness if she'd give it to him, though he wouldn't blame her if she refused. Instead, he'd pace around his room or make it as far as her door before heading to the bathroom to wash his face rather than knocking.
The next night Dean had been too exhausted to stay awake, now accustomed to getting around 8 hours he passed out some time just after 2 in the morning while everyone else slept soundly. Dean managed to get just over an hour of shut-eye before waking up to one of his worst nightmares. He jolted up with a scream though quickly cut himself off as to not wake anyone. Nevertheless, he was half a scream too late as Y/N sat up in her own bed wanting to go check on him but refused due to her own stubbornness.
Dean mumbled a 'son of bitch' before getting up and making his way to the kitchen to get started on some coffee. Dean was given about 2 hours to contemplate his idiocy towards Y/N before his brother found his way to the kitchen.
"Dean?"
"Huh? Hey, morning."
"Man, you look like trash."
"Oh, thanks you're not so bad yourself in the shorts." Sam looked to his running shorts before rolling his eyes.
"You always did give me a hard time for wanting to stay in shape."
"Hunting keeps you in shape, not some little jaunt you do every morning. Hey, speaking of, have you found any new cases seems like forever since we've killed a deserving asshat."
"I've been talking to Jody and Donna, they've got a lead on a vamp nest, said they're heading out in two days and we're more than welcome to tag along."
"So, tomorrow. What time."
"They wanted to hit it just after sundown. So, we would leave tomorrow morning if you're interested."
"Oh, I'm interested, give me some' to kill."
"Dean are you sure you're okay. You usually become self-destructive when you've got something going on, something you need to talk about."
"I'm fine, Sammy."
"I'd mention that Y/N isn't sleeping in your room anymore, but I think that'd just make you mad considering that's probably what's bothering you."
"So much for not mentioning it." Dean swallowed what was left in his coffee cup before washing it and setting it in the dry rack. He made his way back to his room hoping his brother would take the hint and leave for his run, which he did. Once he heard the bunker door shut Dean went back to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee. As he sat down the sound of footsteps padding down the hall alerting him that Y/N had awoken. Dean straightened his posture as she entered the kitchen making her way to the cabinet to fish out a mug without making eye contact.
"Morning Y/N."
"Oh my god! It speaks." She filled her mug before walking out having not looked him in the eyes once. Dean rested his chin in his palm kicking himself for having hurt her. After a deep sigh, he dragged his palm over his face closing his eyes momentarily allowing them some rest from the lights of the bunker. Dean strolled his way to Y/N's room and knocked on her door. He heard her sniffle some before the door swung open, Y/N standing in front of him, eyebrows raised clearly on her last nerve.
"I just wanted to let you know we've got a case tomorrow, with Jody and Donna, we've got to leave early-ish so, you know, you might want to pack today so you're not rushing. Anyway, just keeping you in the loop." Y/N looked at her best friend whose eyes were tired, red, and glossy, staring at the ground in front of him. She missed him, but she didn't know why he was angry at her.
"Thanks." She turned away from him intent on closing her door to block the view of the broken man she so deeply cared about and wanted to help, and he spoke.
"Y/N."
"Yeah?" Dean swallowed trying to think of what he wanted to say to her but came up with nothing. There wasn't anything specific he wanted to tell her in that moment he just wanted to be with her. In the same room sitting next to her, looking at her. He wanted to spend time with his best friend whom he had been missing lately but if there was one person more stubborn than Y/N it was Dean.
"Nothing...nothing." With a sad smile and a sigh, Dean walked to his own room with the aim of avoiding her, once again, all day.
Dean listens as Y/N played her music in her room and smiled when the Grease love song came though it wasn't given a chance to finish before Y/N skipped it. He could hear his brother and Y/N talking in the library during the day occasionally finding something funny as they giggled in unison. He missed having her, missed being the one laughing with her, or even just talking with her.
Nearing the end of the day, Dean made his way out of his room for the first time that to grab a snack before trying his hand at some forty winks, wanting to be rested up before their hunt tomorrow. The energy of the room sizzled to nothing as he entered the kitchen. Sammy and Y/N were sitting next to each other looking at pictures of haircuts on the internet.
"Seriously Sam, I've been cutting my own hair my whole life. Just let me add a little shape to it. A little trim here and there I can make you look like the handsome devil you really are."
"I'm not letting you cut my hair. I don't trust you not to just cut it all off. Besides, I don't—" Both their eyes looked up to Dean as he stood in the doorway observing their interaction. Once he noticed their gaze he moved to the counter, pulling a bowl from the cupboard and reaching for the box of cereal.
"Sam and I made pasta if you're hungry for real food." Dean looked over the noodles as his tummy growled, licking his lips.
"Dean, just have some, we're not gonna finish it. It'll just end up going to waste." He hesitantly looked over his shoulder forcing a smile to Y/N who had the smallest one of her on her face. She watched him as he traded his bowl for a plate. Dean plated himself some of the homemade food before Y/N gestured at the spot in front of herself and Sam along with the parmesan on the table. Dean took a seat not wanting to be impolite more so than he'd already been.
"Anyway, I'm trying to convince Sam to let me trim his hair."
"You're not touching my hair with a ten-foot pole."
"Oh, come on Sam it grows back. You'll see, it'll look really good and you won't even want to grow it back. Won't be in your eyes anymore, won't distract you during hunts, monsters won't be able to grab at it. You know I make a good case."
"Sure. But you're still not cutting my hair." Meanwhile, Dean was silently moaning at the flavours on his plate. Y/N watched as the eldest closed his eyes savouring the taste, before he spoke, displaying his voice to them for the first time since the early morning.
"This is kind of amazing. I don't think I've ever had spaghetti this amazing. What jar did you guys use?" Referring to the sauce that had his taste buds dancing on his tongue.
"Actually, Y/N made the sauce."
"My mum used to make these gigantic pots of spaghetti sauce and freeze it so we could have it whenever we want. I was missing it, so I made some from memory. It's not hers but I think it turned out alright. I know I missed something, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was." Dean looked up, his mouth full, to the women speaking, no longer focusing on him rather in her head desperately searching for the missing ingredient, as he swallowed.
"You made the sauce? From scratch?"
"Uh-huh. Yeah, I mean it's not really that hard just time consuming, you have to let it simmer for a little bit, but I think it's worth it. Once in a while at least."
"You mind if I have more?"
"Go right ahead. Sam and I both already had seconds." Dean finished what was left and helped himself to more before moving back to his spot at the table.
"Sam promised to make me the 'Winchester Surprise' one day? Said you used to make it for him." Sam looked to his brother who reminisced, thinking back to the worst meals he had prepared for his baby brother.
"It was terrible. Sam that's — to repay her for this. Seriously Y/N you won't want to eat anything we make for the rest of your life. It was god awful."
"As much as I believe you because I do, by the description, Sam gave me, oh boy, I'll still be the judge of that." Dean chuckled at her retort missing her effortless comebacks and modesty when it came to the things she was good at, though he found it frustrating when she didn't accept the compliment he'd give her. He wanted her to brag about how many Djinns she could kill in a week, or in this case how good the sauce was instead of saying it wasn't perfect, so he'd done it for her, telling his brother when she would do something 'awesome', as he'd put it, that made him feel proud to call himself her friend. The guilt he felt was sudden and overwhelming. Even after he'd gone days without speaking to her, after pushing her away so abruptly, she was still offering him dinner, the conversation, the casual smile, the eye contact. How he longed for her eye contact. She had always been able to communicate with him with her eyes. He craved her gaze, how her orbs would sparkle when she was happy or grow dark when hooded with anger. But the thing he loved the most about her eyes was the fact that when they looked into his, it was like nothing else mattered. He could see he had her attention, and he wouldn't want to look away.
"I'm—ehem— I'm heading to bed, didn't sleep well last night, gonna try to rest up before our hunt tomorrow." Dean looked to Y/N who had a saddened look on her face, clearly angry and confused as to why Dean wouldn't let her help him. When he noticed the look on her face, he realized his words and quickly made up an excuse for why he couldn't sleep hoping to ease Y/Ns mind indirectly.
"Maybe it was a full moon, could never sleep well during a full moon."
"Full moon was last week Dean." Y/N answered him with an unreadable expression along with it. He didn't respond in an effort to save what dignity he had left. He forced a smile in Y/Ns direction as he passed by, once he'd finished cleaning his dishes.
"You mind telling me what's going on between the two of you Y/N?"
"Honestly Sam I haven't got the slightest."
"I know you two were sharing a bed... was that like—"
"If you're suggesting that we were a thing then no. He slept better when there was someone in the room with him, so I was that someone. Then out of the blue, he got distant and said he didn't need me anymore so." She shrugged not sure how to further explain their recent exchanges. "I know he's not through with the nightmares though because I heard his screams last night. I didn't check on him 'cause I was angry at him saying they were done, and he didn't need me anymore, but it was petty. I wanted him to stew in his nightmare, remember how bad they were before I told him I'd stay. I just don't understand him, I didn't do anything to warrant his actions. I haven't bothered asking why he's mad at me and even if I did, he'd just ignore me some more so what's the point. He's being a child. He's acting like I killed his brother when really all I'm trying to do is cut his hair." Her joke succeeded in lightening the mood as Sam chuckled moving to the sink to clean off his plate.
"You're a good influence on him, you know?"
"Why's that."
"Well for starters, he washed his plate."
"Oh yeah, I yelled at him this one time for leaving a mess, which I'm pretty sure was actually mine from the night before, but he hasn't left dirty dishes since so I guess it all worked out." Sam outright laughed at that before excusing himself to prepare for bedtime.
By the time 8 o'clock rolled around the bunker was silent, everyone in their respective bedrooms reading or watching a little telly before getting some rest. Due to the lack of sleep the nights prior and the upcoming hunt, Dean closed his eyes tight willing the nightmares away as he gripped his sheets. It didn't take him long to doze off though and it didn't last long before he was startled awake by Y/Ns voice. "Dean! Wake up!" She looked terrified, holding Dean down by his shoulders. "You idiot. Get up."
"Y/N? Why? What's—" She dragged him out of bed to the bathroom.
"Look at your hand Dean." She could hear the anger in her voice frustrated with him for refusing her help. The help they both knew would work. Dean looked down at the palm she hadn't grasped as she marched him down the hall like a child in trouble. It was bleeding, trailing down his fingers, shards of dark glass still imbedded in the tender skin of his palm.
"How did—" It came out as a whisper, laced with sleep as he did his best to orientate himself. Y/N turned on the light in the bathroom before forcibly sitting him on the lid of the toilet.
"You must have grabbed the beer bottle on your nightstand in your sleep." Y/N had pulled out the first aid kit they had stored under the sink along with a pair of tweezers, kneeling in front of the older Winchester.
"Y/N you don't have to—"
"I swear Dean if you tell me you don't need my help one more time I swear," she looked up from his palm to glare at him, "I’m going to tie you down until you get past... what ever this is." She didn't break eye contact with him until he nodded, shamefully looking down at the injury he only now started to feel.
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Chapter 5 ~~ Out now!
Tag List: @akshi8278​ @bargedog @just-someone-difficult​ @mila-dans​ @valhallavxlkyrie​
Series Tags: @autobotgirl15-blog​ @classyunknownlover​ @laycblack​ @lovememisha​ @music-is-all-i-need​ @redbarn1995​ @wellfuckmyexistence​
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filthfichunter · 3 years
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Decided to upload one of the scenes/ideas not originally included. You can read the whole thing on AO3 here
Coda to Peace and Quiet
Chapter Warnings for: Object insertion, belly bulge (see tags and previous chapter warnings) my writing style is best described as flinging words at a wall and seeing what sticks. Not beta read sorry!
This could stand alone, the basic scenario from chapter one: Geralt using a drugged unconscious Jaskier.
Enjoy!
___________
Part of the reason Geralt had started on the whole enterprise was to get some rest for himself. While fucking the unconscious bard as often as he wanted had started out invigorating, it had become  almost obligatory. 
Geralt didn't want to fuck his bard every night, but after his initial reticence was burned away it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity.
The potion ingredients weren't cheap.
Undressing Jaskier, propping his lax body up in some accommodating pose and fucking untill he was ready for sleep himself had become stale. 
Geralt wasnt uncreative. There had been variety in the way he tupped his friend. Including inventiveness that came about from afternoons on the Path blocking out the worst of Jaskier's chatter with fantasies about fucking. And contemplation about the logistics involved in carrying them out.
Some didn't require much extra in way of material. A log the right heigh and sturdiness. Rope enough to get Jaskier strung upsidedown from an overhanging tree limb. A treat to bribe Roach into taking two passangers on a trotting midnight path round and round the campsite, Jaskier jolting up and down impaled on Geralt's cock.
As a Witcher he had many tools at his disposal.
Some required additional clean up time to consider. It had taken half the morning after to clean, and repolish the length of silver chain he kept for securing shapeshifters.
It had been worth the bother. 
On that night he hadn't been interesting in fucking Jaskier. Instead he had decided to see how many links of the enchanted silver chain he could feed past the rim of Jaskier's puffy (no longer virginal looking) asshole. 
Each link was as thick as two of Geralt's fingers held together and as long as an egg stood on its end, not a challenge when compared to the other things Geralt had successfully stuffed into the bard already.
And all that before you took into account the size of Geralt cock, which the bard was taking regularly with minimal preperation required at that point.
The challenge came in the sheer number of links available. The chain measured nearly fifteen feet and was heavy enough (and valuable enough) that it normally lived in a special enchanted pack attached to Roach's saddle.
The special pack was also treated on the inside so that the silver chain was less likely to tarnish, a slick film covering the surface.
---
Jaskier's ass was spread open and pointed up to the sky, his head and upper back touching the ground while his knees rested bent near his ears shoulder width apart. Geralt had heard the pose called a plough, and had put name and form to function using it on numerous occasions for fucking.
It gave the best vantage point for seeing what could be stuffed into that much beloved body.
The bright cold silver almost sparkled in the moonlight as Geralt pressed link after link down into Jaskier's depths. He had an upclose view as the weight of the chain drew the length deeper and deeper.
The first few had been easy. The puffy wrinkled rim opened over the widest part of the chain link before reflexively clenching tight from the chill of the metal.
Jaskier's rim fluttered open-close open-close with each new addition. Between the weight of the links and the contractions of over worked muscle each new silver link seemed to almost be pulled down one after the next.
A little past a quarter of the way there was a wave of muscular spams that rolled through Jaskier's usually pliant body. Geralt had to stop and massage the lightly haired belly. His little toy was likely cramping from the weight and unusual pressure being placed against his insides.
If he pressed down hard enough into the soft vulnerable flesh of Jaskier's body he could almost feel where the hard metal chain was starting to bunch up. He could hear the faint rubbing of silver against silver with his Witcher hearing. The dull rasping metallic sound audible even through the layers of flesh, muscle and skin.
At the midway point Geralt had to start adding more pressure behind each new insertion. Each new link pushed the last link deeper, but there was only so much space to start with.
The constant hard pressure of the metal links moving across and up against his prostate had Jaskier's cock leaking a near steady burble of clear seminal fluid. The bard's cock was only halfway to hard, more flacid than not, but from that point on Geralt made it a point to include it in the deep massaging rub. The belly was noticeably more pooched out than when he'd started.
He developed a routine. He would push a link in, run his fingers around the sweetly swollen rim of Jaskier's asshole (bisected by the chain still remaining), and then make a circuit with his hands over the rest of his favorite parts on display.
He would roll his knuckles, deeply pushing hard along the seam of perineum, cup and squeeze Jaskier's not unsurprisingly large testicles, ring his fingers around the full blown erection for a few pumps before turning his attention to palpating under his friends belly button, up over abdominals and back down to his asshole. He'd push in the next link and repeat.
Over and over untill with a good 18 or 20 inches still left Geralt decided it would probably be safer to stop.
The last link was only half way inside, the widest part of it kept pushing out and back into Jaskier along with his breathing. He was overful, burdened by the odd position and the heft of feet of silver resting inside his body.
Insertion done with Geralt sat back onto his knees and prepared the main part of the evening. Sure to wear his friend out so that the next days peace was guaranteed. A sore tired bard would welcome a chance to doze on the back of Roach and wouldn't sing, or compose verse, he would just be docile and thankful to Geralt for the kindness.
His favorite variety of Buttercup.
He quickly rolled the bard over onto his back. In that position the swell in his belly was obvious. The taut stretched skin appeared almost embossed by the chain visibly straining against it's over full container.
Geralt took the very last link in the silver chain and staked a long 'U' shaped stake through it and into the hard sod covered ground. Jaskier wouldn't be going anywhere.
The thing about enchanted silver is that it reacted much like his medallion, vibrating in the presence of specific spells.
Geralt cast Quent, erecting a protective circle around his friend. Immediately the entire length of the chain began to writh and vibrate. Jaskier's confused over stimulated, and overwhelmed body tripped over into a climax, cum spurting out on to a belly vibrating from within.
Three or four links had been forced out of Jaskier's ass by the contractions of his channel. He'd likely push more out with each following orgasm too.
The slick seed of Jaskier's release danced rapidly up and down, it looked like a rain puddle disturbed by the passage of a herd of trampling horses, or left over wine dancing within a goblet, disturbed by the loud noise of a banquet hall.
Geralt added his own cum to the oscillating mess.
The spell should last untill dawn. Meanwhile he could rest and still have time to retrieve the chain, clean it, pack it, and then quietly meditate before the potion wore off and Jaskier regained consciousness.
____
I have one or two other outlines for the other cut scenes, let me know if there is interest! 1) spectral black dog with ectoplasm jizz, 2) hair removal, Geralt shaving 🪒/magic-ing Jaskier hairless, 3) shoot me a prompt and I'll see what inspires
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imalifegen89 · 2 years
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A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 7 - When the Past Unfurls - Part I
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Rating: Mature
Category: M/M
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard
Characters: Steve McGarrett, John Sheppard, Danny "Danno" Williams, Evan Lorne, Bates (Stargate), Laura Cadman, Alicia Vega, Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, PO Higgins (OC), Samantha "Sam" Carter, Jack O'Neill, John McGarrett, Dr. Lam, Catherine Rollins, Wo Fat, Original Goa'uld Character(s), Original Characters
Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Military, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Violence, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, No DADT, Swearing
Summary :
"Sure John, I'll call," He promised as the SUV came to a stop in front of them. He and Danny both got in and seated themselves. He then gave a short wave to John who was still standing there by the exit watching them leave. Steve hoped what John had told him would be true, that his dad would be able to make it through. He was not ready to lose his only remaining parent. ‘God please, not again! Not so soon ...' His mind was repeating the mantra as Steve let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes."
Steve will find out about what happened to his father, who was involved in it, why it happened and so much more than he ever bargained for...
Hello All, Here's the next part of the series, and it's a two-parter. There are some plot twists on the way and hope you all will enjoy it.
Aethir - Thank you so much for your hard work and for finding some time to help me with editing, commenting, and giving out very helpful tips and suggestions. Idea bouncing and snark is always so much fun with you!!!
Part 1 - Honolulu General
Honolulu General Hospital
Hawaii
The six-hour-long flight in the old and noisy Globemaster had left both SEALs travel-weary and sleep-deprived. Neither had talked much during the flight, trying to catch a few hours of shut-eye, but among the jarring engine noise, the comms chatter, the endless shuddering, and the training maneuvers, that had been impossible. At the end of the flight, they had thanked the crew and disembarked with relief, each carrying their single duffel.
They were both on leave and therefore in civilian clothes, and instead of the usual armory they carried around, they only had their handguns and with extra clips in their bags. Although they were only making a visit to the hospital, neither of them was willing to go completely unarmed.
A short taxi ride brought them to the hospital from Hickam closer to the midday visiting hours. They figured if needed, they could wait in the hospital until they could see John McGarrett.
……….
"Hello, My name’s Steve McGarrett, I got a call last night about my father. Somebody named Curtis called me," said Steve, presenting his credentials to the male nurse manning the reception area of the Outdoor-Patient-Department. The nurse - L. Rider, according to his name tag - gave Steve and his ID a once over and started accessing his system.
"Yes, Mr. McGarrett, your father's been moved from the ICU. He’s in room 308. You can take that elevator to the left," he informed.
“Thanks.”
Steve and Danny both took off towards the given directions.
The room Steve's father was in wasn't hard to find. It was located on the third floor and the room had the number and the name 'John McGarrett' on a plaque clearly displayed. It also had 'Dr. Leonard T. Lester - Cardiologist' listed as his primary care physician.
"I'm going to go look around and find some coffee. Do you need anything?" Danny asked. He was going to give his friend some time with his dad before going in.
"Yeah sure, I could use some coffee.”
……….
During the six long hours he’d had to think about what happened, Steve’s mind had been busy contemplating some horrible scenarios. He hadn’t realized that he had been subconsciously bracing himself for the worst. Nobody in his family had any history of heart attacks and he didn't know what to expect, what to do or how to prepare. Being the trained planner that he was, Steve found the lack of knowledge rather unsettling.
What the nurse at the reception told him, gave him hope though. He theorized that since his dad's already been moved from the ICU to a regular room, his condition shouldn't be that bad.
Steve took a moment to compose himself, watching Danny as he walked away. Then he took a deep breath and knocked on the door before entering room 308.
……….
He stood still by the door to take the scene in.
His dad was lying on the bed and a white and blue hospital gown was peeking out from underneath the white blanket. There was a monitor attached to his chest and Steve could see the leads disappear through the opening of his gown. The apparatus was quiet and its screen indicated a steady rhythm while John McGarrett slept. Steve noticed there was an IV connected to his dad's left hand as well. He scrunched up his nose when the strong odor of antiseptics hit him in the face, contrasting starkly with the smell of gun oil and Old Spice aftershave he usually associated with his dad.
McGarrett senior was sleeping peacefully and didn't seem to be in any pain. Steve was content to let his dad be, preferring to let him wake up on his own. As he stepped further into the room, he saw a chair by the bed and lowered himself to it slowly, mindful not to make a sound. Then he placed his duffel bag on the floor and settled in to wait.
Maybe it was his instincts of being an active duty police officer - John McGarrett surfaced from his slumber knowing that there was somebody in the room with him, within a few minutes of Steve’s entrance. The slight change in the rhythm of the heart monitor alerted Steve to the fact. Not wanting to startle him, Steve leaned forward and addressed his father softly.
"Hey dad," he reached to touch his hand, the one without the IV needle.
"Steve!" His dad's eyes went wide, realizing his son was sitting by the bed. "What are you doing here?" John knew Steve was deployed and he was the last person he expected to see in the hospital this early. He hadn’t even been in here for 24 hours.
"The hospital called me and told me you had a heart attack," Steve explained. He was relieved to see that his dad was speaking clearly and wasn't showing any signs of disorientation or pain. In fact, he looked quite normal. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright," John smiled at the raised eyebrow he received from his son at that. So he elaborated. "Just a little tightness in my chest area. But the doctor says it's normal after an attack. Other than that, I really am feeling fine. To be honest, I didn't even know what it was. I only knew I had a heart attack when Dr. Lester told me this morning," He was more curious as to how his son got here so quickly. "Where were you when they called you?"
"Colorado Springs." Steve smiled. He couldn't really get into details about his deployment or his whereabouts other than that, but he was glad that he was in the States to make this trip.
"Hah, and you’re here already. That was quick,"
"Yeah, I got lucky and caught a transport.”
Steve was more than happy to just sit there and exchange pleasantries all day long. But he needed to know what happened first. He got up to go and fetch a glass of water for his father from the bedside table. "Dad, what happened?"
His dad took it and drank some water before handing it back to Steve. Then he turned on his bed to fully settle on his back. Steve put the glass away and leaned towards his dad, giving him his full, undivided attention.
"It was the weirdest thing, kid," said the senior McGarrett, frowning as he cast his mind back to the chain of events that led to his sudden health failure. “I was in that small grocery shop by the filling station near home. I had just finished filling up the tank on the truck and was getting some stuff for the weekend. I remember walking towards the counter to pay and that’s it - for the life of me, I can't remember having any pain or calling for help or anything. I was standing there one moment and was waking up on this bed the next.” He paused to take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. “Then there’s this fellow - Dr. Lester - is telling me how lucky I was to come back from a severe myocardial infarction with no visible damage to my heart,” he made a face, remembering his earlier conversation with the overly cheerful doctor who described the incident in vivid medical detail.
“How’d you get here?”
“He said that the shop owner called for emergency services and sent me here. Apparently, I coded on the way, but they managed to get my heart started again without much fuss. And now, here I am.” John finished recounting the incident.
Steve rubbed a hand across his face, trying to take it all in.
“I wouldn’t obviously know what to expect, it’s not like I’ve had a heart attack before - but I'd have thought that at least you get some kind of a warning sign, you know? Like breathing difficulties, chest pain or something,” McGarrett senior continued after a moment. “Not this going about your normal day-to-day business, and then a complete blackout, followed by waking up in a damn hospital bed - it just doesn't feel normal,” his frown deepened.
Steve didn’t say anything for a long while. He just took his time to sit there and watch his dad who seemed to be doing pretty much okay after going through such an experience. He was immensely relieved and was happy to take his time to enjoy the feeling, letting go of the worry and stress that had built up since the moment he’d received the call.
A knock on the door interrupted the comfortable silence in the room and Danny Williams entered carrying two styrofoam cups of coffee.
“Ah there you are, Cap, how are you feeling?” He asked, handing over a coffee to Steve and coming closer to stand near the bed railing.
“I’m feeling alright, considering,” John smiled crookedly. “Where’s my coffee, Williams?”
“Hey, I don't think coffee is on the approved list for you,” Danny grinned. He was glad to see the man looked healthy enough for someone who had just had a serious health scare, fit to be up and making demands. “Besides, this hospital swill is so bad it might just give you a different problem or three,” he sipped his coffee and grimaced theatrically to prove the point. “So when are they letting you out?”
“Don't know yet, my doctor is supposed to drop by any time now. I don't think I need to stay here any longer at all.” John stated confidently. He was not accustomed to sitting around on a bed all day, especially when he wasn’t feeling different from any other day.
“Let’s let the doctor decide that, yeah dad? As you said, this is the first time something like this has happened to you and they just might need to keep you under observation for a bit - just saying,” Steve cautioned.
He knew his dad and he could see the stubborn man was already planning on going home, to start acting as if nothing happened. He might even insist on going to work unless the doctor gave him strict orders to rest and take it easy for a while.
“Which reminds me, do they know at the station that you are here?” Steve asked his dad before he could start protesting about staying put in the hospital. “I tried calling Kelly before I left, but it went to voicemail,”
“No, I’m on leave - only due back the day after tomorrow,” his dad replied somewhat petulantly.
The room door opened again, this time granting entry to a short, balding Hawaiian native. The name tag embroidered over the chest area of his white coat identified him as Dr. L.T. Lester. He smiled cheerfully at all of them and went to the nearest monitor connected to McGarrett senior.
“So how are you feeling today, John?” the doctor inquired while studying the monitor.
“I’m fine doc, when do I get to go home?” John got straight to the point.
The doctor continued taking readings and making notes with an amused smile on his face. Then he went to unclip the chart hanging on the bed railing and made a few notes on it. After that, instead of answering his reluctant patient, the doctor turned to Steve and Danny to introduce himself. At the end of exchanging pleasantries, he finally turned to address John.
“Well, Mr. McGarrett, I can see you’re doing quite well and your readings are good. But, as I explained to you earlier, what you went through is quite serious and you might have damage to your heart muscle.”
Then sensing the alarm from the visitors of his patient, the doctor hurried to explain. “It’s what happens during a heart attack. The blood flow into the heart gets interrupted and it goes into a sort of overdrive trying to restore the flow. This overactivity can cause damage. Your dad was quite lucky that people near him reacted quickly and sent him to the hospital on time.” The doctor smiled again.
“So, what’s next, doc?” Steve asked.
“We do need to assess the possibility of damage and the cause of the infraction. The most common reason is usually coronary artery disease, which means cholesterol clogging the arteries. There are some instances this could happen if you were experiencing a seizure with severe spasms and contractions. We’ll need to run some tests to determine the cause and then plan steps for the recovery,”
“And how long will all this take?” The McGarrett senior looked crestfallen, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out soon.
“I actually have you scheduled for some of the tests now. Some blood work, an EKG, and a scan. An attendant should be here shortly to take you for those,” Then the doctor turned to Steve and Danny. “The tests will take about an hour or so. If you need to step out and have a meal or something, now would be the time.”
An elderly female attendant entered the room quietly, pushing a wheelchair as the doctor finished, and started unhooking Steve's dad from his various monitors. Steve took the doctor's advice and took his leave with Danny, after letting his dad know that they’ll be back once the tests were done.
……….
“Well, I’ve gotta admit man, your dad’s right. That does sound weird.” Danny said after listening to Steve about what happened.
“Why?” Steve frowned.
“My uncle Mario had a heart attack a couple of years ago. The man was moving some heavy boxes around. He’d been sweating buckets and breathing through his mouth for about an hour when my aunt found him and made him take a break. Then he felt pain in his chest and aunt Rea took him to a doctor. The doctor took one look at him and sent him to an ER. He’s been suffering from a heart attack for hours by then,” Danny paused and tried to remember the exact details his mother told him about what happened to his uncle. “He is fine now. He had to have a bypass and has to stay away from all the greasy food and the alcohol, but he made it,” he said inspecting the sandwich he took from the vending machine. They were both seated in the hospital cafeteria with bottles of water and sandwiches.
It was crowded and almost all the tables were full with families huddling together having lunch - most probably waiting for news about their loved ones. It wasn’t that noisy, despite being crowded to capacity - and nowhere near cozy or inviting - as one would expect from a busy dining area. It felt as though the sense of expectation, the sense of happiness, and the overpowering sense of grief had all tangled up together to create a very subdued atmosphere. Even the smell of food mixed with the underlying odors of disinfectant contributed to the gloom that pervaded over the souls lost in their own private worlds.
“Wow, I’ve forgotten how crappy the hospital food is. This doesn't look like a roast beef sandwich man,” Danny sniffed at it. “Sure doesn’t smell like it either.” Then he shrugged and started eating. It didn’t taste much better either, but he was hungry after the long flight.
Steve didn’t say anything as he nibbled on his food. He wasn’t really hungry but knew he had to have something to keep his energy up. He was thinking about his dad’s recounting of the incident. He hadn’t said anything to his dad earlier, but the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. What Danny was telling him also made it clear how unusual the whole thing was. He made up his mind to pop into the shop his dad was in, later when they left the hospital. Maybe he could talk to the shopkeeper and even have a look at their security footage if they had any. He might even find something that could explain his dad suddenly suffering a heart attack. Maybe there was something that his dad had forgotten to mention.
He needed to get in touch with Sheppard as well, to let him know his dad’s condition. He knew that John would worry until he heard from him. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he decided now would be the best time to make that call.
“Listen, I need to call Shep and let him know dad’s alright. I’m just gonna be over there by that balcony,” he told Danny as he stood up, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket. Then he walked to the area he pointed, dialing Sheppard. “Be right back.”
………..
The sweet and subtle smell of her perfume reached Danny first, as he realized the lady who was wearing it was standing right in front of him. He looked up and saw the familiar, smiling face of Lieutenant Catherine Rollins looking down at him.
“Well, hello!” He grinned. “Fancy running into you here, of all places,” he gestured at the seat Steve had just vacated. “Take a seat,”
“Thanks,” Rollins smiled charmingly as she sat. “I’m just here visiting a friend of mine. She just had her second baby - a cute little baby boy,” her face took on the same expression all women wore when talking about babies. “I popped in here to get a drink and then I saw you,” she said. “I thought you guys were in Colorado? Is everything ok?” Her expression turned into one tinged with concern.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m here with Steve, actually. We got a call about his dad, but he’s alright. We just saw him,” Danny explained without going into much detail. He noticed the Lieutenant perking up at the mention of McGarrett junior.
“He’s over there, on a call.” he pointed with his head.
Steve was leaning over the balcony with his elbows resting on the railing and busy talking to Sheppard. He didn’t see the new arrival as he had his back to them.
Danny saw the wattage of Cathrine’s smile go up as her eyes ran over the view the oblivious SEAL presented. He hid the grin and blinked at her innocently when she turned back to face him.
“So, will you guys be here for a few days then?” She inquired, her gaze snapping back to where Steve was, almost unintentionally.
Danny knew she was mostly interested in finding out whether Steve was going to be around for a while.
“Well, that depends.” He hedged. “We have to see his dad’s doctor and see how it goes,”
He didn’t want to give any definite answers or any other details without Steve’s say so. He opened his bottle and drank some water, wishing Steve would soon return. So that he could decide what to tell this infatuated Lieutenant who was back to staring at Steve’s ass with a dreamy look on her face. Then something started to nag at Danny about what she said earlier, but he couldn’t place it. He pushed it away to sort out later as he saw Steve finishing his call.
……….
“Yeah, so that’s what happened. He seems alright and man, that’s a relief. Depending on what his tests and scans show, it’ll be a day or two more. But I’ll message you when I find out,” Steve said to John, who was quite relieved at the fact that Steve’s dad was fine. He insisted that Steve take as much time as needed to make sure his dad got all the support he needed. He also made Steve promise to message him with updates and implored him to take care of himself before finally ending the call.
Steve put his phone back inside his jacket with a smile. He very much appreciated the time he was given to take care of his dad. Moreover, he was deeply touched by the way Sheppard sounded over the phone. He had been really worried and the relief that poured over from his lover through the call was almost a tangible thing. Steve made a mental note to send regular updates as promised. It wasn’t something he would have done for anyone else, but he knew Sheppard would stress otherwise. It felt nice to know that he had somebody who cared that much about him.
He felt the good feeling wilt away when he turned back to see the penetrating gaze of Catherine Rollins directed at him. He was pretty sure he caught her in the act of staring at his ass. She smiled brilliantly at him and waved. Steve was somewhat reluctant to wave back and tried his best to summon a smile for her. He was sure it looked more like a grimace instead.
Steve didn’t have anything against beautiful women. He was definitely not opposed to being the subject of desire of one, either. He had gone out with many pretty women and Catherine Rollins, with her long black hair, soulful brown eyes, and radiant smile was exactly his type. But he was very much invested in another hazel-eyed brunet and he didn’t see himself veering off anytime soon - if ever at all. Even if he wasn’t, Steve knew that he still wouldn’t be interested in this particular woman. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off about Lieutenant Rollins - something that rubbed him the wrong way - that made him want to be on his guard whenever she was nearby.
“Hi, Steve,” Rollins greeted cheerfully as he walked towards them.
Again, he was instantly put off by the overly friendly greeting. They had only known each other for about 48 hours, hadn’t they? He had to make a conscious effort to return the greeting without letting his true feelings show.
“Hello, Lieutenant,” He asked, more or less politely. “What brings you here?”
Danny cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, picking up on Steve’s discomfort instantly.
Rollins either didn’t notice or didn’t let it bother her because she launched into the story of her friend and her cute little babies with great enthusiasm.
Steve kept the smile plastered on his face as she talked. Then he made a show of checking time and gestured to Danny. “Hey, listen, it’s nice bumping into you here. But Danny and I’ve gotta run. My dad should be done with his tests now,” he said to the woman as Danny got up from the chair to go with him. Steve didn’t want to give her any details about their visit here and hoped Danny hadn’t run his mouth either.
With that somewhat curt parting, he turned and walked out of the cafeteria, with Danny following closely behind.
“So, it isn’t just me, hah? She gives off weird vibes to you too?” Danny asked, turning his walk into a half jog to keep up with Steve’s longer strides. Steve was eager to put as much distance as possible between them and Rollins.
“Yeah, you didn’t tell her why we’re here, did you?” Steve asked while stabbing the buttons on the elevator.
“Nah, not really. Just told her that we’re here for your dad. That’s it.”
“Is she following us?” Steve was staring at the shiny surface of the elevator door.
The reflections on it were slightly distorted. But Danny could discern the shapely figure of Rollins in tight-fitting jeans and green sleeveless top, slowly making her way towards them.
“Forget this,” Steve spat, pressing a few more buttons for various floors on the keypad. Then he swiftly walked away to the nearest staircase and started climbing two steps at a time. He knew his behavior was a bit irrational; she was just a colleague after all, not another enemy combatant gaining on him. Nevertheless, he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible.
When they finally reached Steve’s dad’s room, the man was already there, enjoying his lunch. It didn’t look much better than what they had either. John McGarrett insisted that there was no need for them to hang around since he was just going to take his pills and take a long nap anyway. He could see the boys were tired and wanted them to go home and catch a few hours of sleep for themselves. Steve relented and promised his dad that they’d drop by later around dinner time. He made him promise to call them if he needed anything before that and then finally hugged him fiercely, before taking their leave.
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epic-and-kitty · 5 years
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I'll be reopening asks a few days from now, but I think you all deserve an explanation
I'll be reopening asks, but anon and submissions will still be closed. But I think my followers deserve to know what happened, seeing as I didn't actually say much publicly as it was happening. Trigger warning for suicidal ideation, self hatred, aphobia and transphobia and for mentions of molestation and pedophilia It started when I made a throwaway vent/do not reblog post about something I saw when trying to find a user. It was about lgbta+ issues and wasn't even tagged other than my vent and personal tag along with the previously mentioned do not reblog. Someone reblogged it, screen shotted my description and "called out" my use of the word queer when in the phrase "queerplatonic partner" as me using a slur. I privated then eventually deleted the post and thought it was done with. A few days later, a friend of mine reblogged my coming out post with positivity and encouragement. They also used the word queer. And I think that's what started it. The next day my notes were flooded with exclusionists calling me a cishet or straightie, calling me a joke and calling me out for using the word queer. At this time, I had been put on antidepressants after being officially diagnosed. The doctor had said that the pills might cause severe suicidal ideation, and that's unfortunately what happened as I saw all these people who quite literally despised me. For most of the rest of that day, I was attempting to block every exclusionist and fight the constant urge to end my life. My paranoia increased and I kept imagining how these people would come to attack me in real life. It was hard, but with the help of friends, I was able to keep stable enough not to hurt myself. My qpp had to deal with people sending hate their way for defending me. In the end, I had to delete my coming out post for my mental health. I closed my ask box and submissions, even made it so only blogs who followed me could send me pms. Ever since then, I've had at least one suicidal thought a day. My self hatred slowly got worse. And then that stupid thing about defining trans people out of existence happened, and my suicidal thoughts got worse, because I was so scared for my qpp and was having trouble finding a reason to continue if everything would end up going to shit in the end. And I felt worse that my shit mental state meant I would have trouble being there for them without having a mental breakdown. And I feel like I can't turn to the people I care about, because their problems are so much bigger than mine. And I'm sure there are exclusionists just stalking my blog, looking for the tiniest thing to turn on me. Looking for my public breakdown post as a sign of victory against me, a way to prove that they won when I deleted and went radio silent and buried myself away from their disapproval. I get it, ok? You hate me, dispise the fact I even exist. I hope you're happy, having caused someone to go so far past ok that she contemplated, repeatedly, on how to end it all. I'm not perfect, but before you buried me in hatred I was honestly trying to improve. To be a better person and to improve my mental health. And now, because you people wouldn't leave me the FUCK alone, I'm wondering why I should. I hope you all enjoyed the laugh you had at my expense. It wasn't like i was recovering from telling my mother about the fact a super close family friend fucking MOLESTED me repeatedly as a teen, only for her to turn it on me like it was my fault in part that a man 4 times my age was allowed to touch me. Oh wait.... I was I hope you all enjoyed crushing what little pride and happiness I had in finally accept myself for who I was. I hope you're proud that you destroyed the slight happiness and hope I had when I thought my mental state was finally, for once in my life , going to be better. I get that you hate me. I get that you don't want me to exist. But could you, for once, keep you're hate inside your little shit show instead of dumping it on someone who is desperately trying to be a better human being? I get that this post will probably have to be deleted for mental health as well because you all have nothing better to do, but could you kindly keep it to yourselves for once? I would really fucking appreciate it. To my mutuals and followers who read this, thank you for your time and for your understanding. To the aphobic leeches crawling around trying to suck dry what little happiness I can scrounge up for myself, hope you get better soon.
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tenspontaneite · 3 years
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Just wanted to announce that I finally broke back into piaj yesterday and wrote 2.4k woot 🎉🎉🎉
Mind you it's not ch23, it's like. Section 9 or something. But still!!
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