#// maybe they know each other from her dropping off patients at the hospital

[doctor-dusk]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝? | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

four margaritas and a bathroom break, please.

warnings: soft dom!alex, semi-public sex (piv), fingering (f receiving), a bit of a handjob and blowjob. 

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist

hello? is anyone still here? as you can see, i’m not dead (yet). i forgot about 60% of what i was supposed to write in this part during my disappearance lol i'm so fucked up lately, but i hope you enjoy it anyway :)

as the week went on, you found yourself getting more and more anxious to see him. it wasn’t like you couldn’t leave the house at night. of course you could. as long as you let your parents know if you were going to sleep at home or not and where you were.

when you said you were going to a pub, your mother scrunched her nose. it wasn’t exactly the kind of place she wanted you to go to, but she trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t do anything that would make her have to leave the house to pick you up from the hospital or the police station. besides, she knew you weren't a little girl anymore.

alex would have liked to be able to pick you up so you could go together, but he needed to be there much earlier to get everything ready, but you didn't see a problem in taking a taxi to get there. it wasn't that far, but not that close either.

a place you had never heard of, but it seemed to be pretty popular when the taxi dropped you off a few meters from the entrance since parking in front was prohibited. you didn't get there that late, maybe around 7:45 pm. the small queue, but you knew the place was probably already packed.

the smell of vodka mixed with nicotine hung in the air. it wasn't exactly your favorite smell in the world, but you knew how to ignore it. you waited patiently in line, listening to the guys behind you talk about subjects that ranged from having sex with the pharmacy receptionist at the end of the day to exponential calculus tests.

‘’evening.’’ the security guard said to you when it was your turn. he was kind of intimidating, a huge tattoo covered his left arm and you were sure that if he flicked you you would end up on the other side of the street. ‘’id, please.’’

you held out your id card, seeing him take a good look, flicking his eyes between you and the card.

‘’it's not fake, i swear.’’ you said a little nervously. you didn't even need to be nervous, actually. he chuckled.

‘’you just look younger. careful there, doll.’’ he said, handing you back your id and letting you in. you gave a weak smile and walked in, taking in the new atmosphere around you.

surprisingly, it was a vibrant and lively place. imagine a cozy kind of environment, with soft lights and a decor that could range from rustic to modern. the round tables were full of people chatting animatedly, laughing and enjoying each other's company, a bit tipsy already. you walked slowly through the space, passing close to the kitchen to head towards the bar. the aroma of delicious snacks like fries, chicken wings and burgers permeates the air, inviting everyone to try. in one corner, there might be a pool table or a dart board, where friends compete amicably. 

at the bar, the two bartenders are busy preparing a variety of drinks, from craft beers to elaborate cocktails. the sound of clinking glasses and laughter mixes with the background music, which was limited to loud classic rock.

you looked for him there, but you couldn't see him. for a moment, you wondered if you were in the right place. but it couldn't be any other. this was the address, this was the name of the place.

you sat shyly on a stool, hands on your lap as you looked around restlessly.

“hello, dear. what can i get you tonight?” a bartender approached you, quickly wiping the counter with an orange cloth.

“uhm... i'm looking for alex.”

“well, we don't have that drink around here.” he said with a chuckle. you felt like rolling your eyes, but you knew he was probably just making fun of you.

“no, the bartender.” you specified patiently.

“turner or jenkins?” he asked. you stayed silent. what was his last name? you didn't even know. you only knew him as alex. he never told you his last name and you never tried to find out either. he noticed that you were quiet for a long time. “let me guess, is he hot?”

“pretty much.” you chuckled. he let out another chuckle.

“yep, it's turner.” he said, putting the flannel on his shoulder. “i'll get him.” he said, walking away to go to the door near the liquor shelf. “turner, you have a customer here!” he shouted loud enough for even you to hear.

a few seconds later, he appeared in your field of vision. you never imagined seeing him so... formal? you don't know how to explain better. a pair of slim black tailored pants to match the vest with all the buttons fastened over the ironed white shirt, sleeves rolled up to near the elbows. and oh, of course, the damn hair slicked back with gel. just the sight of him made you press your thighs together, but you'd be lying if you said his surprised smile didn't get you too.

‘’she said she wanted 'the hot alex'.’’ the other bartender teased him.

‘’fuck off, jenkins.’’ alex snapped back at him, almost hitting his colleague in the shoulder with the white flannel he was holding.

oh, so that was alex jenkins? yeah, it makes sense that he's not considered hot. or maybe he was, you just didn't think he was your type.

‘’hey, i thought you were going to tell me you got here.’’ alex said, his arms itching to hug you, but he just held your hand, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek. you understood that, he was working, whether he liked it or not. maybe it wouldn't be very appropriate for the attendant to be flirting with a customer there.

you smiled at him, feeling the delicacy of his touch, no matter how rough some areas of his hand were. ‘’i didn't mean to disturb you.’’ you replied and he scoffed softly.

‘’nonsense. i was checking my phone every five seconds.’’ he chuckled, tapping his cell phone in the front pocket of his pants. ‘’besides, it's not like i’m busy here. it's just a get-together, really.’’ he said as you looked around again.

‘’it seems like a nice place.’’ you commented. 

‘’when it's not crowded, it is.’’ he finished, pinching your cheek so you could look back at him. ‘’you look gorgeous, by the way.’’

it didn't matter how many times he complimented you, you always felt this way. your cheeks flushing, your heart skipping a beat as a shy smile appeared on your lips. he knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

‘’you look good too.’’ you said, taking a look at him again, taking in his outfit as far as your eyes could see.

he chuckled, scratching just above his right eyebrow. ‘’i'm pretty average. and definitely sweaty as hell, the inside is like an oven.’’ he pointed briefly to the door that led to the pub's interior, a place where only employees were allowed to enter. you never thought you could find someone attractive in a simple bartender's outfit. but oh, alex turner was capable of many things. the thought made you grin slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by him. ‘’what?’’

‘’'turner, huh?’’ you asked, wiggling your eyebrows a bit as you leaned your elbows on the glass bar counter, your shoulders tensing a bit.‘’i didn't know that was your last name.’’

‘’you never asked, love.’’ he retorted as you shrugged next. it was fair.

‘’it suits you.’’ you replied, the corners of his lips lifting in a subtle smirk. oh, he looked so good under those dim lights. devourable.

‘’and you know what suits you?’’ he asked, playing along as the word ‘you’ left his lips in a charming and flirty tone. you shook your head. ‘’a margarita.’’

you chuckled as he started to select the drinks he would use, sanitizing everything with a skill you didn't know he had, but you were certainly entertained. it was hot.

‘’the last margarita i had in my life wasn't good.’’ you told him as he sprinkled sea salt on the rim of the glass, making sure nothing was missing.

‘’forget everything else you've had in your life. this one's going to be special.’’ he winked at you, perfectly measuring the doses of tequila, lime juice and cointreau inside the glass, so impeccable that he seemed to know how to do it with his eyes closed if he could.

“and why?” you asked with a subtle smile. he noticed the way you bit your bottom lip, slowly making the lipstick that pigmented your lips disappear.

“because i made this one. just for you, baby.” he answered, placing a napkin under the base of the drink glass, finishing with a thin slice of lemon on the rim of the glass, handing it to you.

you looked at the drink. there was nothing there that made it unpleasant to the eyes. you looked back to him. “what if i don't like it?”

“i'll make it up to you later.” he suggested, the tone of his voice made your mind go places.

“so i hated it.” you joked, making him burst out laughing. you loved when he laughed. it was such a good sound to hear, even in a relatively noisy environment like that.

“silly girl.” he reached to poke your chin with his thumb, making you giggle a bit. “one sip is all i ask of you.”

you didn't take long. the liquid went down your throat like a delicious burning ember. your eyes threatened to water a little, making you close them tightly until you got used to the strong taste of the gin on your taste buds. 

“so?” he asked with a hint of expectation, paying attention to your reactions. you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the strong taste of alcohol still lingering in your mouth. 

“not bad, turner.” you replied. "but i think maybe i need one more.” 

and it happened that he prepared two more drinks for you. god, you would drink 30 drinks if it meant seeing how the muscles in his arms flexed when he mixed the drink with the shaker, so agile and fast and hot. you didn't know if your body was now hot because of the alcohol or the immense desire to pounce on him and fuck him on top of that bar counter.

of course alex couldn't talk to you all the time. as a bartender, he had his demands and he had other customers to meet the orders. but his eyes were on you all the time, checking on you. and vice versa. you didn't mind the fact that he was working there. you understood that in the end and admired that even while working, he still wanted to make time for you.

you weren't drunk, at least not drunk enough. you were a bit tipsy, but you were still sober. sober enough to throw silly smiles at him whenever he looked at you. you couldn't help it, he was so…

“i want one more." you said as soon as he got close to you again after finishing the other orders.

“i think you've had too much to drink, young lady.” he tilted his head, looking at you, finding your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes so adorable, even though he was minimally concerned about how much you drank, he didn't know if you knew how to handle alcohol well.

“just one for the road.” you said, gesturing with your empty drink glass, batting your eyelashes at him. oh, how could he resist you?

“just one.” he pointed out, starting to prepare another drink for you. he took advantage of the fact that you weren't so oblivious to him to add less gin than usual and top up the rest with water so as not to make the drink too strong for you. 

when he turned to use the shaker, your eyes were on him again. you felt your mouth dry and the dampness between your legs increased like a waterfall. it was funny not to say that you were exploding with lust here with so little. 

running your not-so-discreet eyes over him, you noticed something you hadn't noticed before that only served as an icing on the cake. “nice tattoo.” you said and he frowned, following your eyes to his left forearm.

“oh, this?” he chuckled while he left the finished drink on the counter for you. “haven't you noticed before?" 

you felt kind of stupid for not noticing the tattoo sooner. you didn't remember a time when this tattoo appeared on omegle dates, or in the photos and videos he sent you. you paid attention to every detail of him and yet you let it go.

you tried to downplay it a bit, resting your elbow on the counter. “well, maybe i was too busy paying attention to something else to notice the tattoo.” you said before sipping the fourth and final margarita of the night. he seemed to like your answer. 

“getting frisky, baby. maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let you drink a little every now and then.” he flirted back, his hands itched and twitched so he could tuck a strand of hair behind your ear or squeeze your flushed cheeks with his long fingers. 

“only if you want to watch me vomit my organs the next day.” you joked, watching him scrunching his nose. god, his beautiful nose. you still remember the way his nose felt against you and…

“you liked it?” he asked, rolling the sleeve a bit more so he could show you the tattoo properly. you turned your head a little, paying attention to the details of that tattoo. a rose — it wasn't colored, with the name ‘sheffield’ right below it. “it's my hometown.”

“it's a pretty tattoo." you replied, seeing that his eyes were now on the tattoo. “do you miss it there?”

“fuck, a lot.” he confirmed. “i love that city. my parents and relatives still live there." 

you nodded slowly. he really seemed to miss it there and liked the city to the point of tattooing it on his skin. you understood that it seemed to mean a lot to him.

“and why did you move here?” you kept asking. you didn't even know if it was right to ask him, if you weren't being too invasive by asking about his life, but you couldn't help but want to know at least a little more about him. damn, until 1 hour ago you didn't even know his last name and that he had a tattoo on his forearm.

“ah, y'know… i was young and stupid. i tried to follow some silly dreams and it didn't work out very well.” he explained very briefly, not sounding very enthusiastic about it.

you asked yourself about his dreams. why didn't they work? why did he end up standing there behind a pub counter making drinks? was he happy with it? as if he was feeling your doubts swirling around in your mind, not wanting to prolong the topic, he cleared his throat and offered a quiet smile.

"so love, i'm going to take my 20 minute break in a bit. wanna have some fun?”  

you didn't know when or how, but you now found yourself in the tiny restroom in the employee-only area. alex managed to sneak in with you after he was sure there was no one there to catch you by surprise, as if the two of you were reckless teenagers who blamed the night for the wild fun that was about to happen.

‘’do you think 20 minutes will be enough?’’ you asked him as he carefully pushed you into the bathroom, his large hands squeezing and circling your waist as if he needed to make sure you were real.

‘’it has to be enough.’’ he murmured, his mouth too busy kissing the back of your neck, nipping your skin and recording how the taste was mixed with the soft taste of your perfume impregnated on your skin. ‘’fuck, i've been dying to touch you. do you know how hard it is to control myself when you look so hot like this?’’ he growled against your skin, eliciting the most sincere and insane shivers from you, his words wrapping around your lustful thoughts like iron chains.

you barely had time to respond or wonder if he had done this before with somebody else. his hands grabbed your hips, forcing you to turn around so he could crush your lips with his in a fierce kiss. as he deepened the kiss by sticking his tongue in your mouth to taste the gin, he easily lifted you to sit on the bathroom counter. you felt your skin crawl at the cold contact of the counter on your skin, but it soon faded away when the firm touch of his hands on your thighs did the work of warming you from the inside out, as if you were erupting.

oh, you loved the way his tongue seemed to tie knots with yours, just throwing more fuel on a flame that seemed impossible to burn any more, feeding the anguish of never being satisfied with a touch or a kiss.

his hands, always so eager and hungry for you, moved between your legs, lifting your dress up to your hips, his fingers roaming and feeling the material of your panties in an act of anticipation.

“you sure about it?” he broke the kiss just to ask you that. it was the second time he asked. he wanted to make sure you were sober enough to know what was going on and if you really wanted it. 

“yes, alex. i'm not that drunk.” you reassured him, pulling him back so you could keep kissing. this put his mind at ease, because both he and you knew the risks, he would never want to do something with you completely out of your mind and out of control while he was sober. 

between kisses and nibbles, he had already dragged your panties down your legs, the piece now pooling at your ankles for a few seconds before falling to the floor. the music from the pub seemed to play inside you, vibrating and accelerating your heart rate.

the air seemed to disappear from your lungs as quickly as it entered when his fingertips teased your entrance, circling around the newly wet hole. you thought it was ridiculous the way he could make you feel like this. you wished you could hate it if the desire for him didn't burn so bright and strong.

‘’what get you so wet already, baby?’’ he murmured against the skin of your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as you whimpered. ‘’was it the margarita?’’

you felt his nose sliding along the line of your jaw as he traced teasing kisses, the length of his fingers already becoming lubricated just by the light act of sliding up and down. your saliva was thick when you licked your lips, ready to answer him. ‘’you. just you.’’ you said, your hands sneaking on his sides, feeling the smooth fabric of the black vest over the white shirt.

‘’just me, eh? mhm, i bet so.’’ he hummed, his tone slightly cocky as he slipped his two long digits inside you, your cunt clenching immediately around his fingers, as if it were automatic, as if you were just waiting for him, gripping his fingers like a vice. ‘’missing me, i suppose.’’

you held back a moan as he withdrew his fingers, as if it were the weirdest thing in the world to no longer feel his touch in such an intimate way, stretching your walls. you felt those same fingers parting your folds, his head tilting and angling so he could see you better under the bathroom light, practically groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt, clenching around nothing, as if it were screaming in agony because of the emptiness he had left.

‘’so pretty. don't worry, baby, i've been missing you too.’’ he whispered, his eyes looking back at you, stealing a soft kiss that soon turned into a desperate one, and your hands were already undoing his belt, somehow your brain reminding you that you needed to be quick, even though you loved the idea of ​​listening to him praising you all night long inside that bathroom.

so, you wasted no time in pulling down his pants, letting it pool on his ankles, his boxers on his thighs and his hard cock bouncing free before you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the protruding veins in contact with your fingers.

and apparently, just that stimulus was enough to give you one of the best views of your life: turner's eyes were narrowing and his adam's apple was pulsing up and down, almost in time with your soft strokes on him.

‘’fuck baby, see what you do to me? you barely touched me and i'm already hard as fuck.’’ he hissed, his fingers going back inside you, making you throw your head back against the bathroom tile, the burning desire getting the best of you now that you didn't even care about the idea of ​​being fingered inside the employees' bathroom of a pub in the west side of the city.

you slid your thumb along his tip, pressing softly on the slit, spreading the precum all around it like it was your favorite pastime. it wasn't like he didn't like it too, he would love to spend hours there, touching you, fingering you until his hand fell off, but he was impatient. and worse, he didn't have time.

his fingers abandoned you once again, going straight to his mouth, tasting you while his other hand went into his pocket to get a condom. one thing you liked about him was that he always seemed prepared, although a selfish and even reckless part of you wanted him to fuck you raw and fill you up like you were some kind of dessert to stuff.

your eyes vaguely registered when he tore the foil packaging with his teeth, spitting the small piece of packaging in an unknown place. you couldn't explain it, but god, this was fucking sexy, and above all, exciting.

one moment you had your hand around his cock, and the next moment you were grabbing his arms as he entered you in a single, fluid movement, burying himself to the hilt, the sensation eliciting a groan from both of you as if it were a relief, as if this were equated to drinking a glass of ice-cold water on a hot day.

it was inexplicable and certainly unfair how, even under the influence of alcohol, you thought alex looked a million times more beautiful and hot like this, under the incandescent light of a nightclub bathroom. the music outside tried, but nothing pleased your ears more than his moans muffled by the burning skin of your neck, and nothing hypnotized you more than the way his hair looked even more beautiful with the ebony strands betraying the fixing gel and rebelling as they fell over his softly furrowed and sweaty forehead.

his arms formed hooks around your thighs, a series of pat pat pat’s sounds bounced all over the walls as alex buried his face into your neck, his balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again, the sound mixing with the panting sounds that escaped from both of your mouths.

his eyes fluttered open to look at you, feeling his heart pounding in his throat at the sight of you, so flushed and handed over to him. ‘’will it be weird if i say that i've been going crazy lately thinking about how much i wanted to fuck you like this?’’ he asked, his nose wrinkled slightly, trying to concentrate on not getting lost in you so quickly. you couldn't tell if he found it romantic or sexy. maybe both.

you didn't answer him, letting your hands wander from his shoulders to his neck, your fingers grabbing the strands of hair on the back of his head, torturing him deliciously with the tugs while he rested his forehead on your exposed shoulder, his lips kissing the skin of your collarbone in a sloppily and ardent way.

yearning to feel your lips against his, his right, veiny hand goes to your neck, his four fingers gripping your nape while his thumb rests on your throat. he wasn't gripping tightly, just enough to feel your rapid pulse, pulling your face closer for a leisurely kiss.

“god, i love how fucking tight you feel.” he mumbled between the kiss, rolling his hips to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you, filling you.

and you, equally distressed, moved your hands to undo the buttons of his shirt, but soon you remembered that he was wearing a vest over it, and consequently it would be a lot of work, so you moved your hands down, trailing under his shirt, just wanting to feel the warm skin of his abs against your palms, following the now rapid movement of his hips against yours.

you felt like you were in a cloud of tingling, your body responded to his every stimulus when you started frantically grinding your hips against his, rolling your body in desperate need. a low, guttural noise rumbled from his throat as his body responded on instinct. without meaning to, his hands tightened on you, gripping your neck and hip to leverage as you moved against him.

it was satisfying for him to feel how your legs began to tremble gently, but without any control and your eyes closed tightly with your head going back. you're close. so close.

his hand left your neck, knowing that now it was up to him to increase your pleasure even more, because now in addition to fucking you senseless, he added his thumb to the stimulus, circling it lazily, but with just the right pressure on your sensitive, pulsing nerves.

‘’alex, please…’’ you mumbled, your hips failing to keep up the rolling motion because you were already at your limit, turning into a quivering mess with how well he was fucking you.

‘’i know, baby, cum on my cock.’’ he said, almost like an order, but he was just as desperate as you. not only because he was hanging by a thread, but also because he didn't have any more time. ‘’please, i need you to cum, love.’’ he muttered, maybe more to himself than to you, he barely cared if he didn't cum in the end. if anyone had to leave here fully satisfied, he'd rather it be you.

you barely had time to ask him not to stop, hit fat tip hitting your cervix over and over sent you over the edge faster than you expected, needing only a few more deep thrusts and a few more clumsy movements of your hips for you to cum on his cock, just as he had ordered, creaming all over him, the white excess collecting at the base of the condom around the base of his cock.

‘’fuck, that's it, baby…’’ he breathed out, feeling how your cunt throbbed deliciously around him, trying not to stimulate you too much, but he felt he was so close, he could already feel his body heating up as if he were inside a pressure cooker, it was impossible for him to stop his thrusts completely.

you grabbed his shoulder, your fingers gripping the material of his shirt. you didn't know how or why, but you just blurted out the words to him. ‘’cum on my mouth.’’ you said to him, yearning for him to finish just like you. maybe you really should blame the drink for giving you this urge to say this. to want this.

‘’fuck the manager,’’ alex thought.

‘’get down on your knees.’’ he said, quickly pulling out of you, discarding the condom as you placed your shaking knees on the cold bathroom floor, opening your mouth, battling your lashes at him. it seemed so unreal, the closest you had ever gotten to it was on camera, that huge and veiny cock taking over the screen of your phone or laptop, and now it was there right in your face, looking more delicious than ever, pulsing and begging for release.

and without further ado, his cock was in your mouth, but not completely. your lips, all swollen and red from your nibbling, sucked hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back to expose it more to your lips. his hips jerked softly and his right hand stroked the rest of the length you couldn't reach with your mouth. you looked up at him, but you couldn't see his expression because his head was thrown back, concentrating on not missing the rhythm of his strokes while his other hand squeezed the back of your neck.

‘’that’s it, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.’’ he announced, feeling the orgasm overtaking him as he fucked his fist, feeling your tongue licking the leaking tip as he looked down at you for a second, the sight being enough to make him lose that little control he still had.

alex closed his eyes tightly, throwing his head back as he felt the fire in his belly flare, and blood rushes to his ears in a buzz as he came, the thick, gooey, hot white liquid flying in a jet onto your tongue, reaching the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the surprise of the salty cum teasing your taste buds.

but you swallowed it like a good girl, licking it all up while he had a hard time controlling his legs so he wouldn't collapse on the floor like a puppet without strings.

‘’god, fuck.’’ he breathed out finally, his eyes looking for yours as he held your gauze, brushing your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of you licking him clean. it was an amazing sight. you're amazing for him.

before he could ask if you were okay, a knock was heard on the door, startling the two who were still recovering from the aftershocks.

‘turner, are you there?’’ the voice on the other side asked. alex was relieved to know that it was just one of his colleagues. it would be worse if it was the manager.

‘’yeah.’’ alex forced himself to answer, his thumb resting on your cheek discreetly as you kept silent.

‘’don't forget that the box is yours today.’’ he said and alex snorted softly.

‘’yeah, yeah, i know.’’ he replied and soon you heard the footsteps moving away. you swallowed, still feeling the taste of him in your mouth mixed with the taste of the now weak gin.

“are you in trouble?” you asked. he chuckled, shaking his head in denial.

“no, honey. it's part of today's job. you know, cleaning the tables and arranging the chairs in the box.” he sighed, his hand putting his limp cock back into the confines of his boxers. he helped you stand up, holding you by the hand and waist to make sure you could balance yourself.

“i can wait for you.” you said, but the truth is that you didn't know what time he would finish there, and he didn't want to leave you standing there either.

he shook his head softly, buckling his belt again, kissing your forehead after you put your panties back on. “nah, don't worry. come on, i'll take you home.”

“but aren't you working yet?” you asked worriedly.

“yes, but it's okay. i arrived early today, so i'll make up for it by staying longer on break.” he answered unconcernedly. his boss seemed to give him this flexibility, which didn't make him so apprehensive.

after the two of you had tidied yourselves up to look a little more presentable, alex was the first to leave the bathroom, looking around to confirm that it was safe for you to leave as well. he guided the way towards the adjacent exit, usually where employees entered and exited, which coincidentally led to the parking lot. you could already see his motorcycle parked in the first row.

“would you rather take a taxi?” he asked you before disabling the motorcycle alarm. you frowned slightly. “i mean, you had a little too much to drink there.”

“no, no, i'm good, i can handle it.” you shook your head, finding his concern for you kind of cute. he agreed, handing you the helmet.

even though you said it was okay, alex didn't drive very fast. every now and then, he would put his hand over yours around his waist to make sure you were steady, checking you out at every stop at the traffic light. the wind sounded like a muffled hum through the helmet, your body felt light, but it wasn't because of the drink, of course. you couldn't help but feel that way with him.

you knew that a trip by motorcycle tends to be faster than by car, so it didn't take long for him to stop the motorcycle near your house, in the same spot as last time. you went down slowly, resting your hands on his shoulders to get down, feeling him holding you by the waist to give you more support to get down safely.

“are you okay?” he asked, watching you take off your helmet and hand it to him, your hair was a bit messy, not that you cared.

“yeah.” you answered, looking at him, seeing that he was looking at you intently. "what?" 

he shook his head, taking off his helmet too. “nothing, i… just think that i owe you apologies.” 

your frown deepened. why would he need to apologize to you? you didn't think he had done anything that needed apologizing, but he felt it. before you could ask why, he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“i don't think it was very appropriate to take you to the place where i work. i mean, you only went there because of me and i was working the whole time instead of being able to stay with you and focus only on you.” he said, you could feel his jaw moving as he spoke, his tone and voice was regretful. 

“no, alex.” you said, pulling back a bit so you could look at him, your eyes searching his under the low light of the streetlight near you. “don't worry about it. i enjoyed coming and watching you work.” 

“i know, princess, i just…” he sighed, his fingers cradling the strands of your hair to tuck it behind your ear. “i just wanted to have a proper date with you, to look at you, to talk to you, to kiss you…”

you smiled. he seemed to be very honest about it, you could feel it in his voice and the way he looked at you. you shook your head softly, hugging him, your hands sliding up and down his curved back as he hugged you back.

“it's not like you can't take me on a proper date next time.” you reassured him. “but i'm okay with it, really. i just wanted to see you, no matter what. besides, i've never had sex in a nightclub bathroom. it was quite the experience.”

he chuckled through his nose, you felt the warm air hitting your hair and the skin on your neck. he liked the way you always saw the good in the end.

“well, i can't say the same, but i certainly never did that while i was working,” he admitted. not that he was sorry or afraid of losing his job. “but it was amazing. it's always amazing with you.”

you felt the butterflies in your stomach going wild. even though you were telling yourself that this was all just casual, just fun for the two of you, you couldn't help it, you surrendered more and more to him. and at the moment, it didn't seem to worry you.

alex pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his hand on your lower back keeping you close to him. “is there any chance you'll be free on monday?" he murmured against your neck.

“nope.” you answered and he huffed softly.

“tuesday? wednesday? thursday?" he continued asking between kisses on your neck that made you giggle and shiver.

“on thursday." you replied and he hummed victoriously, pulling his head back to look at you. 

“and what do you want to do?” he asked, wanting to know if you felt like doing something, going out somewhere. you thought for a bit, not quite coming to a conclusion. you didn't really like going out to places, you liked a calm, reserved meeting in a comfortable place.

“i don't really have a preference.” you shrugged as he nodded slowly, thinking that was his cue to suggest something that the two of you might enjoy doing as long as you were together.

“well, in that case, knowing that the closest i can get to your house is on the sidewalk, what do you think of going to my place? we can play, watch a movie, make dinner or order something to eat…” he suggested, not knowing exactly if you would like the idea. for the first time, he was feeling insecure about doing something with you. 

you thought a little about his proposal, wondering if he felt the same way as you did. 

“well, of course we won't just do that, we can fuck all night long too if you want." he chuckled, his words making you think he was being his normal self again. “but if you don't want to, we don't fuck, no problem." he said, you noticed his tone was nervous as he continued talking. “i just wanted you to know that i don't just want to have sex with you, i really like being with you and doing other things besides that and..." 

you silenced him with a soft kiss, taking him by surprise, chuckling at the way he seemed to swallow his words.

“alex, it's okay. i get what you mean.” you caressed the skin of his cheek with your thumb, making him feel like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “your place, at 7pm?” 

“perfect.” he whispered before placing another soft kiss on your lips. “i’ll come get you here." 

“okay.” you smiled. “i think you have to go now. the box is waiting for you.”

“fucking hell, i had completely forgotten about that." he groaned in defeat, laying his forehead on your shoulder, squeezing you a little tighter against him, knowing he needed to go. “you make me lose track of time sometimes, girl.”

“i guess that's my charm.” you chuckled, feeling his lips crashing with slight desperation against yours, as if he wanted to taste as much of you as possible before he left. his tongue explored your entire mouth, and he could swear he could taste himself on your tongue. 

“probably. you make me not want to leave.” he said, panting softly as he squeezed your hips one last time before finally letting go. “but yeah, duty calls.”

“let me know when you get home.” you said. you always said that and he always kept his promises, even if he got home very late and you were already asleep, you would wake up more relieved the next day knowing that he was safe at home when you saw the message on your screen.

like last time, he waited for you to come home safely. he waved one last time and left, speeding up the bike so he could get to the pub as quickly as possible. 

on the other hand, you went to your room carefully and in short steps so as not to wake anyone, looking at your reflection as soon as you entered the bathroom. you were a mess, but a good mess. after a quick shower, you passed out on the bed, feeling a bit boneless, but so good, your mind reliving everything that happened that night like an erotic movie.

and you could hardly wait for thursday to arrive.

a/n: should i keep this taglist? honestly, i've forgotten how to post here :')

taglist: @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment

[girlkisser13]

for the first time

"it's just like seeing her" "for the first time" "again"

pairings: amelia shepherd x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst with a hint of fluff at the end. mentions of amelia having a relapse.

summary: you reunite with amelia after she comes back from rehab.

the corridors of grey sloan memorial hospital held a familiarity that felt like home. the steady rhythm of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and murmured conversations had been the soundtrack to your life for years. it was comforting, yet today, as you walked through the halls, there was an undercurrent of unease you couldn’t quite shake. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been back in seattle for a while, or perhaps it was the uneasiness that always seemed to follow you since things fell apart with amelia.

mark had paged you for a consult. another reconstructive case that needed your expertise. you were good at this— rebuilding, putting things back together. it was what you did best, even if you couldn’t always apply the same skill to your own life.

you turned a corner sharply, your mind preoccupied with the upcoming surgery, and collided with someone. papers flew into the air like a cascade of autumn leaves, and you stumbled back, reaching out to steady the person you’d bumped into.

"i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you," you apologized, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered documents.

"no, it’s okay, i wasn’t looking where i was going either," a familiar voice replied.

you froze, your hand hovering over a paper as the recognition hit you like a tidal wave. you slowly looked up, heart hammering in your chest, and found yourself staring into the eyes of amelia shepherd.

"hi," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of surprise mixed with something else— something you couldn’t quite place.

"hi," you echoed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

the hospital faded away, the bustle of nurses and doctors becoming a distant murmur as you stood there, looking at each other. she looked almost exactly the same as the last time you’d seen her. her hair was shorter, yes, but her eyes still held that familiar spark of determination and defiance. there was a vulnerability in her gaze, though, that hadn’t been there before.

for a moment, you were both back at johns hopkins, two young residents studying late into the night, navigating the grueling demands of your profession while also navigating the complexities of your relationship. she’d been your world back then, the anchor that kept you grounded when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

"amelia…" you began, but before you could find the right words, your pager buzzed, breaking the moment. you glanced down, seeing mark’s name flashing on the small screen. "i—i have to go," you stammered, taking a step back. "mark’s paging me."

"yeah, of course," she replied quickly, masking the disappointment that flashed across her face. "i’ll see you around?"

you nodded, still trying to process the fact that she was standing in front of you. "yeah, sure."

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but look back. amelia was still standing there, watching you go, a wistful expression on her face. a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed them down, focusing on the task at hand. mark needed you, and that’s where your focus had to be.

mark was waiting for you in the attending lounge, leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. he looked up when you entered, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what took you so long?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"i, uh, got held up," you replied vaguely, trying to shake off the encounter with amelia. "what did you want my opinion on?"

mark handed you a patient file, but his eyes stayed on your face, studying you intently. "i was looking at a complicated reconstruction case. thought you might have some ideas. but, you know, since you’ve been avoiding seattle like the plague, i haven’t been able to ask for your expertise in a while."

you knew he was baiting you, and you weren’t in the mood. "i’ve been busy, mark. you know that."

"sure," he said with a shrug, his expression still smug. "by the way, did you know amelia’s here?"

the file slipped from your hands, falling to the floor. you bent to pick it up, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions his words caused. "yeah," you said, your voice more steady than you felt. "i ran into her in the hall."

mark’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "and? how was that?"

you shot him a glare. "she said hi. i said hi back. then you paged me."

"really?" he said, his voice laced with disbelief. "because she looked like she wanted to say more than just hi."

"do you know why she’s here?" you asked, changing the subject.

"nope," he said, shaking his head. "but she did say she was looking for you."

you felt your heart skip a beat. "looking for me? why?"

before mark could answer, a voice cut through the room. "mark." both of you turned to see amelia standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. "can i talk to you for a minute?"

mark straightened up, glancing at you before nodding at amelia. "sure, come on in."

you felt trapped, the walls of the small lounge closing in on you. "i should go prep for my surgery," you mumbled, quickly walking past amelia without meeting her eyes. as you left the room, you heard mark and amelia start talking, their voices fading as you made your way down the corridor. your mind was a storm of thoughts and memories, each one bringing with it a wave of emotion you weren’t prepared to face.

later that afternoon, you were in the lounge again, trying to focus on a patient’s chart when amelia found you. she entered quietly, her presence like a ghost in the room. you didn’t look up, your attention fixed on the papers in front of you.

"can we talk?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.

you took a deep breath before raising your eyes to meet hers. "what are you doing here, amelia?" you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"i wanted to see you," she said simply.

you felt a flicker of frustration. "you flew three hours just because you wanted to see me?"

"yes," she replied, her voice unwavering.

silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. you felt her eyes on you, searching, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. she took a step closer, and you saw her pull something from her bag. it was an envelope— the letter you had sent her when she was in rehab.

"i read your letter," she said, holding it out like it was a fragile piece of glass. "i’m sober now. i’ve been through rehab, therapy… i’ve done the work. but you weren’t there."

her words stung, and you finally looked up, meeting her gaze. the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable. she looked like the same woman you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, and yet there was something different about her now— an openness, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

"you don’t get to use my letter against me, amelia," you said, your voice tinged with anger. "not after everything you said to me."

her eyes filled with tears, and she took another step closer. you instinctively took a step back, the distance between you growing. the hurt in her eyes was palpable, and it mirrored the pain you’d carried for so long.

"i know i hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "i didn’t mean those things. it was the drugs talking. i was scared and angry and broken. i wish i could take it all back."

you felt a lump in your throat, memories of those final days flooding back. the way she had looked at you with nothing but disdain, the harsh words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. you had known she was spiraling, but you hadn’t known how to help. and then she had pushed you away, saying things that still haunted you.

"i know you didn’t mean them," you said quietly. "but that doesn’t make them hurt any less."

"i’m sorry," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "i’d do anything to take it all back, to make it right. i’m here now. and i’m sober. i came back to you. please, come back to me too."

loving amelia had always been complicated, a tangle of emotions you could never quite unravel. but standing here now, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes and hearing the sincerity in her apology, you felt something shift inside you. her presence brought back a flood of memories— late nights studying at johns hopkins, quiet moments stolen between surgeries, laughter shared over dinner.

but there was more than just nostalgia. there was pain. deep, lingering pain from the harsh words she'd said during her relapse. words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. words you weren’t sure you could forget.

"amelia," you began, your voice uncertain. "i don’t know if i can do this again."

she looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "do you still love me?" she asked softly.

the question hit you like a freight train. did you? it felt like loving her was an inherent part of who you were, woven into your very being. but could you survive loving her again? you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. instead, you stood there, silent.

amelia’s face fell, but she didn’t back away. instead, she took a tentative step closer. "because i still love you," she said, her voice trembling. "i’m still so in love with you. i don’t think i’ve ever… stopped being in love with you."

her words were like a balm to the wounds you’d carried for so long, but they also brought a new wave of fear. could you trust her again? could you trust yourself not to fall into the same pattern, the same heartbreak? "what are we supposed to do, amelia?" you asked, voice strained. "ruin each other all over again?"

she shook her head fiercely, determination shining in her eyes. "no. that’s not what i want. i want to love you the way you deserve to be loved. i want to be there for you, support you, make up for all the times i hurt you. and if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay. i’ll wait for you. as long as it takes."

you studied her, really looked at her, and for the first time, you noticed the changes. she seemed different, stronger, more grounded. it was like seeing her for the first time again, and it scared you. what if you had both changed too much? what if the love you’d once shared was gone, replaced by the scars of time and pain?

"i don’t know if we’re the same people we were before," you said quietly, voicing your fear. "we’ve changed, amelia. what if we’re too different now?"

she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against yours, and the touch sent a spark through you, familiar and new all at once. "then that just means we get to fall in love with each other all over again," she said softly. "we get to learn each other’s hearts from the beginning. we get to build something new. something stronger."

her words resonated with you, and you felt the tension in your chest begin to ease. maybe she was right. maybe love didn’t have to be about holding on to the past. maybe it was about letting go, about choosing to believe in the possibility of something better. something real.

you took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. she was offering you a chance, not a promise that things would be perfect, but a promise that she would try. that she would be there. that she would love you.

"okay," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "okay, let’s try."

amelia’s eyes lit up with relief, a smile breaking across her face. she stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t move away. Instead, you let her wrap her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. you closed your eyes, resting your head against her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. a sense of home.

[emberfaye]

Liveblogging my thoughts on Paradise of thorns, will be posting this after I finish watching. So spoilers!

(This is the first part, i will reblog wtih a second part)

Sek is sus already, is he guilty or shy?

Ah yes, the "i had to learn to sing badly in the car" scene i vaguely remember hearing about during the promo.

The bumper sticker!!! "it's too late i'm already married"

why is only sek's name on the deed that's not very smart of thongkam =(

omg laughing and sneezing during sex is absolutely something we don't see enough of, especially in queer media (from what i've seen)

rip sek, but at least the last thing you did before dying was blow your boy, what a good husband. (I joke but also like i did not expect thongkam to bear witness to him dying, i thought he was going to find him later and both are painful)

HI MO working late/early aren'tcha? Was the truck driver throwing bits of the vegetable off because it didn't meet his standards or?

the opening scene of the mom (the leaves falling away from the ceiling to show her face) was amazing omg cinematography i love you.

oh god he didn't just instant die, it's gonna be about having to wait for procedures and legalities too, even though his HUSBAND is right there askldgjaslkdjg

"I REALLY AM HIS HUSBAND WE JUST SCREWED LOOK" *drops pants* I'm. 0.0

Oh no wonder the mother is in such a bad state after the death, the guilt is going to eat her alive. and mo. oh god. and then them not getting there on time and thongkam losing everything to them LITERALLY OH MY GOD

FRIEND OF PATIENT OH FUCK OFF

EXCUSE ME

motherfucking what????

DO THEY NOT KNOW THEY WERE MARRIED? THAT HIS IS WEDDING RING???

I'm actually kinda glad the audio is low because then i can't hear the crying as much T_T

oh there is no no no trust here. damn.

oh god no don't tell me thongkam invites them as guests oh god please don't please don't the road to hell!!! (Oh wait i think she is not trusting thongkam and is going to just. bulldoze her way in?)

so was sek trying to protect himiself or thongkam since mo and mom had never been here?

ugh I can see the way the mom relies on mo so hard. poor mo.

THEY FUCKING PLANNED THIS. maybe not intentionally but they did oh my gooooooood fuck this.

forced him out of his marriage bed and then and only then did they inform him about what the village head said

I said this when i saw the trailer, and i'm gonna say it again, but i really hope that the movie ends with the mom leaving the land to thongkam, and she just wanted to die in the same place as her son. Though with how mo and thongkam acted, i wonder how they would end up dealing with that reveal, since they turned to throwing stuff at each other / competition.

does mo not even have a bed to sleep on?

Welp. both thongkam and mom did try to have a heart to heart, but both are so hurt and don't know how to see without worry for themselves.

oh they really making decisions for the orchard no without including thongkam that is not okay.

JINGNA cutting the durians? thongkam having a party? what is going on

OH HE WAS TRYING TO ANNOY THEM. not him refusing to take them to the hospital. T_T that's gonna have consequences

locked out of the house he built? T_T what the fuck oh god he's taking all the things and door and couches??? and now he's going to get the police called on him??? WAKING UP THE MOM TO TAKE THE RING BACK??? T_T

I'm literally having my blood pressure rise this is so intense

"A PERSON LIKE YOU IS FULL OF SIN"

"IF YOU WERE BORN A NORMAL WOMAN THEN SEK PROBABLY WOULDN'T HAVE DIED"

THONGKAM HONEY I WANT YOU TO GO FULL GONE GIRL ON THEIR ASSES PLEASE

I want to make a joke about horny jail but honestly i'm too stressed and sad.

the music leading up to this is just. psychological horror. this whole film feels like that tbh. and it is, to Thongkam.

How he managed to swallow his emotions and apologize is absolutely impressive and terrifying.

his face when asked to apologize to mo T_T lmao though

villain era thongkam let's gooooooo

what a shot the inner photographer in me just sighed in appreciation

Oh my god there was only one camping spot

NOPE THERE WAS ONLY ONE MOSQUITO NET

not jingna being a cuddler or a horny gay? what the fuck?

Yeah go sleep in the car buddy. jingna really tried to shoot his shot after punching him and shit?

Mo pushing her mom around for 20 years???

Okay but lmao him getting mom a wheelchair that mo doesn't need to push means mo isn't as needed ooo....drama

mo just sitting in the shower holding the water is so relatable though. i get it.

jingna is rather useless isn't he. just vibing head empty. OH GOD

JINGNA HAS HAD A CRUSH ON THONGKAM HASN'T HE? HE'S SO JEALOUS OF SEK? WHAT??? ISS? GOING?? ON???

sek please dont' be lying challenge

WAS SEK A SUGAR BABY???

thongkam: tell me about mo

jingna: "why do i have to tell you"

IS HE GONNA SAY WHAT I THINK HE IS? OFFER TO SLEEP WITH HIM???

NOPE HE'S GONNA SAY NOTHING AND JUST USE HIS HANDS

Thongkam uses seducation, it's not very effective.

"You don't wanna know" what's up with mo???

Investigator thongkam. what is the cultural significance of the stuff on the roof?

Wait were sek and mo a thing? why else did he throw his wedding ring down?

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SEK YOU PIECE OF SHIT

sek: a wife to take care of my mom, a husband for work and money

fucking give bis a bad name. and yes, let jingna and thongkam fuck, boy is grieving multiple things now.

two people exploited by the same family.

fucking mood thongkam. fucking mood

I AM LIVID WHAT A FUCKING TWIST WHAT A FUCKING

using thongkam to (allegedly) fund his marriage with mo????\

NO WONDER SHE DIDN'T LET HIM GET BURIED WITH THONGKAM'S WEDDING RING

[allthingsfangirl101]

Worst-Case Scenario – Joe Keery

"I'm telling you, Mr. Gary," I sighed, not bothering to look up from the chart in my hand, "you do not have Onchocerciasis."

"Are you sure, Doc?"

I sighed before forcing myself to look at him. "I'm sure, John. For starters, you're not blind. And you haven't been around blackflies of the genus Simulium and haven't been repeatedly bitten by them. So, no, John, you do not have Onchocerciasis."

"But I think it's. . ."

"You're a hypochondriac, Mr. Gary," I cut him off. "So my prescription? Stay off of WebMD."

After he left, I finally took my 30-minute lunch break. I went into one of the breakrooms the hospital had and sat on the couch. I leaned back and the second I caught my breath, my phone started ringing. When I grabbed it, a smile spread across my face.

"Hey, you."

"Hey, gorgeous," Joe's voice came through the phone. "How's my favorite doctor?"

"Tired," I said with a small laugh. "How's my favorite actor?"

"Tired and misses his wife."

"Well, his wife misses him too," I said as I lay down on the couch.

"You're off later tonight, right?" He asked.

"Yep," I sighed. "I only have two more hours."

"Great," he chuckled. "I have about three more hours."

"No," I whined.

"I know, I know," he sighed, "but I'll bring home dinner. What are you feeling?"

"Italian," I said instantly, making him laugh.

"If my wife wants Italian, I will get her Italian."

"I love you," I said softly.

"I love you too, baby," he said, sounding a little different. "I know we both have crazy jobs and we love them but. . . We never see each other anymore."

"I know," I whispered. I thought about it for a second before coming up with a plan. "When are you done filming your latest season?"

"We got about two more months," he sighed, not catching on.

"Well," I elongated, "I have some vacation days that need spending."

"Oh?" He chuckled, finally seeing where I was going.

"Mhmm," I hummed. "I can talk to my shift coordinator and get some time off once you finish filming."

"I like that idea," Joe said in a teasing tone. "How many vacation days do you have?"

"In total?" I had to think about it. "About two weeks, I think. Maybe more."

"Wow," Joe chuckled. I could hear the smirk.

"I really haven't taken that much time off," I sighed. "In fact, I was talking to my supervisor the other day and she practically begged me to take some time off."

"Well, even your health matters, Doctor," he teased. "Would it be crazy to suggest you take the whole two weeks off?"

"Absolutely not," I chuckled. "It sounds amazing."

"Perfect," he said gently. "We'll plan it all out over dinner tonight."

* * * * *

An hour into the second half of my shift, I got a patient I never wanted to have in the ER.

"Doctor Keery," one of the interns hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I have a patient that just came in," he stalled.

"Okay," I said, slowly looking at him. "And is it a tough case? What's up?"

"I think you're gonna want to take this one."

Before I could ask what he meant, he turned on his heel and walked away. Sighing, I put down the file I was holding and grabbed the one for the new case. I walked into the room without looking at the file.

"Joe?!" I dropped the file on the ground and ran to him. I stood in front of him and gently grabbed his face. As I scanned him, he had bruises, a busted lip, and what looked like ash.

"What happened to you?" I panicked. "Did something happen on set? Were you in a car accident? I'm trying to remember what scenes you shot today."

Joe reached up and grabbed my wrists, but didn't pull my hands away from his face. "Baby," he said gently, "I'm fine."

"But," I stuttered.

"I'm serious," he said, finally pulling my hands away from his face. "It was just a small stunt explosion."

"A what?!" I yelled. I grabbed his file off the ground and started scanning through it. Without a word, I instantly started attending to his wounds. He watched me the entire time.

"Y/N," he whispered once I had finished cleaning the ash off his face and neck. "Can we. . . We should probably. . ."

"I need to finish dressing your wounds," I said almost emotionless. We were quiet as I finished cleaning and bandaging up his wounds.

"Baby," Joe sighed.

"There," I said quickly. "You're done. I'll get you cleared to leave."

"Y/N. . ."

"I want you to go home," I cut him off. "I mean it, Joe. I don't care what your director says. Doctor beats director. So please, go home and get some rest. I'll bring home dinner and check to make sure your wounds are healing."

"But Y/N. . ."

"Doctor's orders," I said firmly. I closed his file and left the room. I handed it to the nurse and let out a shaky breath.

"You okay, Doctor?" The nurse I handed the file to asked sweetly. She looked at the file and her face dropped when she saw the name. "Oh," she said under her breath. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine," I said, forcing myself to push down my anxiety. "I need. . . Can you get his paperwork through the system so he can go home?"

"Of course, Doctor," she said with a small smile on her face. "Would you like me to tell you before he leaves?"

I hesitated. "No," I said under my breath. "It's okay. Thank you."

I went through the rest of my shift with my heart in my stomach. I wasn't sure when Joe went home. When my shift was finally over, I got takeout on the way home.

The second I walked into the house, Joe appeared in the hallway. "Hey, Doctor Gorgeous. How was the rest of your shift?"

"It was fine," I said as I walked past him and hung my keys on the wall. I kicked off my shoes before walking into the kitchen and putting the food on the table.

"Y/N. . ."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," he said, the tone of his voice slightly weird. "Y/N, baby, we need to. . ."

"I brought home dinner," I cut him off. "You need to eat something."

With that, neither one of us said anything as we ate. Once we finished, I stood up and started cleaning off the table. After putting my plate in the sink, I walked back to grab Joe's plate. As I reached for it, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

"Y/N, I know you're mad," he sighed. "But we need to talk this through. I'm sorry I scared you today. I didn't mean to. We were running through a fight scene and we were off. It ended with. . ."

"You don't understand!" I cut him off as I tore my wrist out of his hold.

"You're right," he said oddly calm after I just exploded. "Please help me understand."

"You being a patient in my ER is my worst-case scenario."

"What do you mean, baby?" He asked as he stood up and grabbed my hand. He led me over to the couch and we sat down.

"I see a lot of horrible things," I said, my voice breaking. "I see people who come in and end up fighting for their life. I see those same people not survive the fight. And I am the one that has to tell their families they're gone."

"It was an accident," he whispered.

"It's always an accident," I said, the tears close to spilling. "It's the accidents that end suddenly and badly."

"Y/N. . ."

"I can't lose you, Joe." My voice broke as the tears finally started streaming down my face. "You're my world. You're my everything. You're my husband. Having you come into my ER and me not being able to save you is my biggest fear."

Joe sighed as he pulled me into his chest. I tried to stop the tears as he kissed the top of my head.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "I should've called you and given you a heads up. It would've been better than surprising you. But I really am fine, Y/N. We got a little too into our fight scene and ended up getting too close to an explosion that happens in the scene. We had the set medics check us out, but our director wanted us to get checked out at the hospital just in case. Next time, I promise to call you first."

"How about there is no next time?"

My question made Joe laugh. He tightened his arms around me and relaxed into the couch.

"I will try not to have a next time."

[jamie-leah]

Lifeline Pt 6

Bucky x Reader

Series

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 1,113

Warnings: Mention of explosions, hospitals, minor injuries, angst

A/N: I was planning to make this longer but I haven't had the time this week. Hope this one isn't too boring, the next one will be a good one! Enjoy!

<-Previous Part Next Part->

Masterlist of Masterlists

It’s snowing. That’s what you see when you open your eyes. Snow falling from the ceiling. It reminds you of the times you and your dad used to lay in the snow, looking up at the sky. It was always after a snowball fight would break out. You smile despite the sadness clouding the memory.  

It isn’t until Bucky’s face comes into view with smudges of black on his face that you realise the snow isn’t really snow, but ash. You gasp as the last ten minutes of your life comes flooding back. Mandy, the bomb, the explosion, and darkness.  

When you get your eyes to focus you see Bucky saying, “are you okay? Talk to me.”  

You nod, his hands reaching to cup your face as you will your aching body to sit up and take stock of the carnage around you. Debris is scattered everywhere, people running around it like ants trying to put the fire out.  

The next few hours are a blur. Steve finds you and Bucky and manages to get the two of you into an ambulance. When you get there, they separate you despite how hard Bucky fights them to stay with you. You have some scans, tests and stitches but you don’t take much of it in. Staring into space seems to be about the only thing you can do.  

It feels like so much time has passed and yet no time at all when you hear yelling just outside the curtain obscuring you from the room.  

“I just need to go see her.” 

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to let you back there.”  

“You’re not letting me do anything. I need to see her.”  

“Hey! You can’t do that.”  

The blue curtain is ripped to the side, and you find Bucky again. He has some stitches on his hairline and the blood and soot is gone.  

You glance to the outraged nurse, “it’s okay, he’s family.”  

She raises an eyebrow turning and marches away to her next patient.

You watch Bucky’s face soften as his eyes roam over your body from head to toe. His chest taking a deep breath for what seems the first time since you promised him you would stay back at your apartment a few days ago.  

He takes a step towards you, “hey, how’re you doing?” 

You shake your head, “Bucky, what the hell was that?”  

“I’ll apologise to the nurse after-”  

“No. Not the nurse.”  

You stare at each other and for the first time since you met he seems to be at a loss for words.  

Bucky paces the length of the hospital bed that you’re sitting on the edge of, “we should wait for the others, it’ll be easier to explain.”  

“What will be easier to explain?”  

Bucky keeps pacing.  

“What were you going to tell me? Your text...you said you needed to talk to me, like you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” You ask.  

Bucky stops in front of you. You watch him fight with himself.  

You let out a humourless laugh, “I almost died today. We almost died today.”  

Bucky reaches for your hand, your fingers intertwining on instinct, like he needs to remind himself that you both made it out in one piece, “I know,” he whispers back.  

“So, tell me. Just tell me.”  

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh, dropping your hand as he lowers himself into the chair next to your bed. “We’ve been trying to track someone for a while now. Someone working for Hydra. A bombmaker. He’s been setting bombs off all over the country and the world, causing panic and chaos. Natasha caught wind of him about two years ago, but he stepped up his game in the last year or so.”  

“So, you think the bomb was from him?”  

Bucky shrugs, “we would have to assess whatever is left of the bomb, but it seems like a safe bet to me.”  

Your brow knits in confusion, “I don’t understand what that has to do with what you were going to tell me. You text me hours before that bomb at the Tower.”  

Bucky leans forward, elbows on knees, “we raided a safe house yesterday and found the identity of the bombmaker.”  

“You caught him?” 

“No. We found a video, like a bomb making tutorial of sorts. The man teaching is the man we believe to be the bombmaker.”  

“I still don’t see what this has to do with-”  

“It was Andrew.”  

Bucky only said three words. Three words. And as much as you tried you just couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell you. Or maybe you didn’t want to.  

You shake your head, “no. It wasn’t Andrew. It can’t be. He was in the Army, as much as I hate him, he fought for this country he wouldn’t hurt the country he fought so hard for.”  

“What did he specialise in?” he asks. 

You swallow, not wanting to answer because you know you’ll only prove his point further.  

“What did he specialise in?” He asks again.  

“Bomb disposal” the words spill softly out of your mouth and onto the floor.  

Bucky nods, “and did you know that there has been an explosion in every city you’ve been to in the last year?”  

You look to Bucky in shocked horror, “what?” 

“Natasha is the one that spotted the pattern after we raided the safe house. A couple of days after you’ve left each city or state, there’s an explosion. Some were written off as accidents, others not so much.”  

You swipe at your eyes before the tear that threatens could fall, “you’re telling me that I’m married to a terrorist? And that at least some of the explosions that have gone off are my fault?”  

Bucky jumps to his feet, rushing to grip your shoulders, “you listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once. That man is not your responsibility. What he chooses to do is not on you. This was a path he was always going to choose whether you were his wife or not. This is not on you.”  

Bucky lifts your chin with his fingers until your gaze meets his, “and we know what we’re dealing with now. Who we’re dealing with. We also have an advantage...you. If you stay, you can help us find him and stop him. You know him like no one else does.”  

Tears slip down your face as you nod up at the man that feels like the only thing keeping you together. A lifeline in the darkness. And he just might be your only chance of making it out of this alive.

Tags: @ordelixx @cjand10 @identity2212 @sukaibg @bellabarnes1378 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @vicmc624 @scott-loki-barnes

[bluntneedle]

The Night Nurse

Chaeryeong x Fem!Reader

Warning: Yandere

You were hospitalised from a hit-and-run car accident that took both your parents’ lives, causing you to slip into a state of depression. You would just cry in your hospital bed all day, the only exception being when a pretty nurse who introduced herself as Chaeryeong was around. She would always tend to your every need and make you forget about everything else. It was just so easy when she was so nice to you, maybe even too nice.

Whenever the other patients teased you about Chaeryeong saying it was obvious she had feelings for you, you would just laugh it off and say that it was impossible. But why else would she always bring you takeouts from your favourite place when you insisted that the hospital food was just fine? Or linger outside the door when the other patients talked about her thinking you couldn’t see her when you could see her eves dropping through the window with a shy smile on her face?

It didn’t take long for Chaeryeong to confess to you, clumsily fumbling over her words because she was so nervous. She wouldn’t even look into your eyes and just stared at the floor the whole time. You heart clenched hearing her confession, but you had to reject her because you weren’t ready to let someone into your life yet. You didn’t want to lose someone important again. “But I will never leave you!” “I’m sorry, Chae, it’s still a no.” Her lips trembled hearing your rejection. You were so cruel! “When can I be discharged, Chae? I feel much better already.” You shuffled your legs around under the blanket. She gripped your hands tightly telling you that you didn’t have to worry about the hospital fees because her dad owned the hospital and you could stay for as long as you wanted, making you lose your temper and tug your hands away from her because why couldn’t she understand that you wanted to leave and live a normal life? She stared at your legs as if in a trance, mumbling something about you not being ready yet before dashing out the door.

The next few days, Chaeryeong would only visit you to give you your daily medication and then leave without a word. You wanted to ask her to stay with you longer because only she can make you happy and the days are so much longer now that she doesn’t spend it with you, but you wanted to give her space after the rejection. You also started feeling weaker and out of breath every time you talked for too long so you started to chat with the other patients less.

One day you woke up in an isolated room and a nurse informed you that your injuries had worsened and you needed special attention. But weren’t you just getting better? At one point all the nurses stopped coming to your room too and you were completely alone most of the time except when the same nurse would bring you food but refused to do or say anything else. Chaeryeong would only visit you at night and you had to fight the urge to sleep to catch a glimpse of her. Deep down, you knew that she had something to do with what happened to you recently but you were so lonely that you just wanted her back. You always asked her why she only visited at night but she just dodged the question and asked you if you’re sleepy because she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you, but she also couldn’t tell you she was tracking down all the people who were responsible for your accident so that she could kill each and every one of them for hurting you.

When you finally held onto her wrist one night and demanded to know what she had done she broke down and told you that she had no other choice but to drug you so would stay with her, kneeling beside your bed and telling you about her abusive father and her mother who left when she was four. She was just so lonely and you were her everything. When she realised that you went silent she got up and told you that she would give you time to think, making sure you saw the tears rolling down her face before leaving because she knew that you were soft and it would confuse you and make you pity her. By the time you realised the danger you were in and wanted to escape she had already hid your phone away and any other devices that could reach the outside world.

One night her ice-cold fingers woke you from your sleep and her face ghosted over yours in the dark as she mumbled something about a routine check. You tried to push her away weakly but she just used your lost momentum against you, pining you harder against the bed and insisted on performing some kind of checkup on you. You whimpered weakly as her fingers crept all over your body even though it didn’t hurt when she pressed just a little too hard on your wounds because she had dosed you with so much painkillers everyday and it didn’t even feel cold when she lifted your clothes up and licked all your bruises saying that it would help make them heal faster and called you her poor baby and told you all the bad things she had done to the people who hurt you. She panicked seeing your tears, apologising profusely saying it’s all over now and that she wouldn’t kill anyone if you’d just be good, making you cry louder.

You thought it was all over when she didn’t show up after that night for three days straight until she walked in with a dazed look on the fourth night, telling you that she did it. You were too afraid to ask her what she meant by it but it didn’t take long for her to clasp your hands in hers, telling you that she had finally taken her father’s life for you. You shook your head furiously, saying that it had nothing to do with you but she wasn’t listening to you anymore. “Don’t you see? I’m finally free from that monster. You gave me the courage to escape, my love. And now that his hospital is mine, I can extend your stay for as long as I want. Not that I need to do that anymore…” You hesitantly asked her what she meant and she caressed your legs slowly, which you realised couldn’t feel her touch anymore. “Your legs are paralysed forever. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you until the day we die. You need me as much as I need you.”

[liaromancewriter]

Control What You Can Control

Premise: Ethan has second thoughts about a new phase in his life.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 1,100

A/N: Late submission for @choicesflashfics week 58, prompt 2. I'm also using week 59, prompt 3.

The summer sun was high in the sky, its sharp rays shining through the treated glass ceiling. Where the city streets battled sweltering temperatures, the hospital atrium was a cool and bright hub of activity. Patients, visitors, nurses and doctors glided around each other like actors on a stage.

From his vantage point on the seventh-floor gallery, Ethan Ramsey watched the familiar scene unfold below. There was a time when he’d stand at the windows of his old office and gaze down at the emergency drop-off area. Sometimes, it was the only time he had to himself in the day to just think.

There was a simplicity to his life he missed now that he was chief of medicine. He missed working with patients most of all, solving the puzzle of what brought them to the hospital, that moment when a diagnosis just clicked.

Now, it was all over, he sighed morosely, tightly gripping the edge of the steel handrail. And he wished he could go back and do it all over again.

“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Chief. Having second thoughts about the wedding?”

Ethan rolled his eyes at the glib comment from Tobias Carrick, his former nemesis slash colleague slash occasional friend slash permanent pain in the ass.

“No, just contemplating how much lighter life would be without your unsolicited commentary,” Ethan shot back sarcastically.

He scowled at the other man over his shoulder. “It's like mental weightlifting, really, and more intense than any wedding jitters.”

“Who’s having wedding jitters?” Cassie Valentine asked absently, eyes on her phone as she joined them.

“Your fiancé,” Tobias smirked. “His sigh was ponderous enough to sink the Titanic. Might want to check if you can get your deposits back.”

Cassie’s gaze zigzagged between them before her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Tobias, are you riling Ethan up for no reason?”

“How could you ask me that?” Tobias feigned offense.

Ethan grinned when Cassie stared Tobias down, using her haughtiest and most severe expression. It was one he’d seen her use only when someone or something truly vexed her and reminded him of why people called the Valentines American royalty.

For once, Ethan was glad not to be on the receiving end of it.

Tobias held his palms up in a universal gesture for peace, but Ethan could see him sweating bullets. Served him right, he thought. Ethan grinned wickedly as the other man made some excuse and rushed off.

“Are you having second thoughts about the wedding?”

Ethan silently groaned at Cassie’s question. He looked away from his perusal of Carrick’s retreating back to find her watching him. She was more curious than concerned, and he figured that was a good sign.

“Not about the wedding, no,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I was just reflecting on this past year, everything that’s happened.”

Cassie peered into his eyes, and he knew she could read him like an open book. “You’re having second thoughts about your job.”

“Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m enjoying the challenge, finally having the power to change things from within. And god knows the residency program needs an upgrade. But…”

“You miss seeing patients, doing research,” she finished astutely.

“Yes,” Ethan admitted, leaning against the railing. “Oh, what the hell.” He crossed his arms defiantly. “I sometimes, very rarely, mind you,” he warned, “miss teaching interns too.”

Cassie burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling as she threw her head back in an uninhibited display of amusement. Her laugh was loud and contagious, making everyone’s head turn in curiosity.

“You miss interns,” Cassie gasped out the words, still chuckling. “That’s like the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Her shoulders shook, and tears leaked from the corner of her eyes.

“It’s not that funny,” Ethan grumbled, somewhat annoyed by her reaction.

He shook his head and turned to walk away, but Cassie held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, lips upturned in a smile. “I shouldn’t have laughed. But, I’m trying to reconcile the man I met in intern year with the one standing before me.”

“That was then. This is now. People change,” Ethan muttered.

When Cassie threw him a disbelieving look, he unfolded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I don’t actually miss interns.”

“Thank god.” Cassie leaned into him. “You had me going there for a second.” She slipped one arm around his back. “Seriously, though. My grandfather always taught us if we don’t like how something is, change it.”

“This is the same grandfather that threatened to cut you off when you applied to med school instead of joining the family business?” Ethan asked skeptically.

“Yes, but,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “he’s right more often than he’s wrong. My point is, Ethan, it’s up to you to find a way to make the job your own.”

“What does that even mean?” he said, confused. The job was the job. He knew that going in.

“Take shifts in the community clinic, take over the care of your former patients, undertake a research study.” Cassie listed things off on her fingers. “You can be the chief of medicine and a doctor. Balance your workload by hiring a medical director to do the things you don’t enjoy or won’t have time for.”

Cassie pressed on when he remained silent. “Naveen chose you because you’re what Edenbrook needs, not because you’ll do the job like anyone else would.”

Ethan turned over her words in his head, thinking through the ramifications of changing things. It could be done, of course. There was at least one hospital that he knew of that did what Cassie was proposing. Maybe there were more?

“I need to think about this,” he said eventually. “That’s good advice, though.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Cassie laughed. “I’m the head of Edenbrook’s famed diagnostics team, after all, and pretty remarkable at diagnosing what’s wrong.”

“And so modest, too,” Ethan quipped, placing a swift kiss across her lips. “Thank you.”

“Someone brilliant once told me, ‘Control what you can control.’ Well, this is something you can control,” Cassie added when he smiled at hearing the familiar words.

He folded her in his embrace. “Brilliant, you said?”

“Handsome, too,” Cassie smirked. “Alas, his tongue can be acerbic, and he refuses to do dance challenges with me on TikTok.” She snickered. “But, I love him anyway.”

He lowered his head, lips hovering above hers, tantalizingly close. “Then it’s a good thing he loves you too.”

And then he kissed her.

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[jacksgreysays]

So I was wandering back through the tags to read more of Primadonna Girl and look into Sabaku no Shinki, and I noticed that one bit where Shikako was pregnant and could FEEL the baby's interaction with her chakra--so ... do you think Shikako "cloning is easy" Nara pioneered some external womb seal-tech after that, so that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES would she EVER have to do that again?

This kind of touches on this post in which an anon asked about why I didn’t have Shikako and Gaara have biological kids with each other, but obviously less cringe-inducing. I think Shikako would make—or massively contribute to or, at the very least, consult the pioneers behind it—a seal/tech-based external womb not for her own benefit (because I do maintain SHE doesn’t necessarily want [more] children) but for someone else.

The first go to that comes to mind would be Risshuu Shingon and Saidai Nara (aka, Ritsu Shingon’s parents from the Sunshine Sidestories) who have, as you previously said and which I still find absolutely hilarious, “incompatible meatware” to have biological children of their own. We literally see their wedding in the side story so that they can build a stable domestic household for their daughter. But we also see how nervous Risshuu is about it and even Saidai, in his Nara way, given he wanted to get the wedding done IMMEDIATELY, because even though he was reassuring Risshuu the whole time, he must have also felt that if he didn’t seize the opportunity NOW, with the clan heirs being acting clan heads, then they may not be able to do it UNTIL the clan heirs ACTUALLY because clan heads — a decade or more, he said.

All that being said: I would think after some time of letting the concept of being legally married settle in their brains, when they’re no longer so worried of it being taken away from them, they would want to consider having another child. And, like, obviously they’re considering adoption or surrogacy because… you know… that’s what’s available… but I do like the idea of Shikako hearing about it (maybe from Ritsu, who’s old enough to understand what’s happening, but not old enough to know not to tell her hero intimate family details) and then showing up at their house during breakfast and sitting down—just really giving Risshuu deja vu—and dropping the “Do you want biological kids?”

And, well, they’re not going to say no to that. They just… didn’t think it was an option.

And Shikako does say—well, it’s not an option… YET.

And then she sweeps into the next Sealing Group meeting and just throws this topic into the ring and everyone just goes all in on this. It’s the exact overlap of sealing and medicine and “impossible” with further/alternate applications. Because I think the steps to make a functional external womb which WOULDN’T require constant concentration or exact chakra control could also lead into things like… how do bacta tanks work in Star Wars? Or stasis/travel seals to bring injured patients from the field back to a more incorporated hospital.

And, you know, there are probably a bunch of OTHER people who would appreciate an external womb: other couples with incompatible meatware, fertility issues in general. The more, uh, “corporate” equivalent would be clans with members who are reluctant to have kids but are the prime example of their blood limits so if the clan agrees to take care of the kid, they don’t mind donating their genetic material. Or even maybe civilian nobility? But that gets iffy.

Anyway, I don’t think Shikako knows enough by herself, but she definitely has access to and influence over people who cumulatively have the knowledge to pull this off.

[magicshopaholic]

Other People (Seokjin x OC)

Summary: You learn a new trick, while Seokjin discovers something unexpected at Big Hit.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC

Genre: Best friends; angst

Word count: 8.5 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, mention of diets, mentions of brain surgery, mentions of a car accident (again, Nari is a surgeon, so)

A/N: This got unnecessarily long; I would apologise for it, but I couldn't find a single thing I wanted to delete. It's also two am so I've made an executive decision to not proofread this. I wish I could predict the reaction to this fic but I honestly have no idea. Takes place approximately three months after The Test.

Tagging:  @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics could not be tagged; drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "don't know why" by norah jones

seokjin masterlist | main masterlist

It’s cold and rainy in Seoul, even when it shouldn’t be. 

The day had started off as a nice sunny winter morning in November, the sun a soft golden, a welcome respite from the low temperature. As noon arrived, so did the clouds. By late afternoon, they were grey and ample, sealing the city in a coffin.

Now, the evening doesn’t look at all like it’s continued from the same morning. The rain comes down in torrents, creating a constant din, loud enough for people to have to speak in slightly raised voices to be heard properly. 

Nari stands outside the ER with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The coffee is losing its heat with every passing second and she tries to gulp it down as fast as she can without burning her tongue in the process.

“What do we have?” Daeun appears from behind her, tying her hair into a ponytail, trauma gown already on.

“Two cars crashed into each other outside the mall,” supplies Nari. “Five victims, multiple contusions, broken bones and at least one head trauma. Coffee?”

Daeun accepts the cup with a nod and takes a noisy sip. “Ah, that’s good stuff. Shit, the rain is bad. I don’t think this will be our only car accident today.”

“Not even close,” mutters Nari, as two more fellow doctors join them. “I just hope we have the room.”

“We don’t,” says Jason, shifting from one foot to another. “Two of the trauma rooms are still unusable from the pipe leakage and the most of the X-ray machines are done after the Wednesday Soccer Team Incident. We have exactly one CT machine in working condition. The hospital is going to have to scrape money off the sidewalk to pay for all those repairs,” he adds, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Good thing they’re hosting a fundraiser then,” says Daeun dryly, just as the ambulance pulls in and the paramedics spill out. “A bunch of rich donors with their cheque books hanging out of their pockets - if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”

Two patients, strapped to a gurney each are then lowered out of the ambulance. All four of them dash forward and tag themselves to a patient, hurrying inside as they listen to the paramedics rattle off their initial assessment and vitals on the field. Nari finds herself next to a woman, possibly in her thirties, with fresh cuts on her face and arms. Her t-shirt is drenched and her jacket has been ripped off, most likely by the paramedics themselves.

“Abdomen is tender so there might be internal bleeding,” says one of the paramedics. “There was no fire but there’s indication that she might have a swollen airway because of the fumes.”

“Alright, we need to get a CT,” says Nari, scanning the ER for an empty trauma room but finding none. “Damn it,” she mutters. “Okay, we’re going to have to keep her here - maybe we can use an ultrasound for now until we can move her.”

“Empty bed over here.” Jason steers the gurney over and immediately hooks the patient up to an IV. “I’ll get the portable ultrasound.”

“I’ll check her airway.” Nari gets to work immediately, trying to intubate the patient, who seems to have passed out entirely. She’s almost done when Jason returns, a nurse and the portable ultrasound machine in tow.

“This better work,” he mutters to her as the nurse begins positioning the patient correctly. “If we can’t find the bleed on this, we’re going to have to get in line for CT, which will take… hours.”

“Here’s hoping,” she agrees, standing back and observing the screen as he moves the transducer over the patient’s abdomen. She sighs and bites her lip when the image comes up clean. “Nothing. Move it to the left?”

Jason obliges, clicking his tongue. “I can’t believe the hospital doesn’t have a budget set aside to fix this stuff. This is a hospital,” he repeats, sounding appropriately frustrated. “Damn it, this bleed is really small. It’s barely showing up on the scan.”

“It has to be there. Here, let me try,” she offers, taking the transducer from him and moving it slower along the woman’s torso. “Do we all have to actually go to this fundraising thing, though? Can’t we skip?”

Jason scoffs. “It’s either dress up and smile at a bunch of rich people or stay here in the ER all night because all the attendings will be at the event. We’re not going to get a night off. The best we can do is make sure we’re all there so we at least have someone to talk to.”

It takes a second to click. “Shit, that’s it.” 

“What is? Did you find the bleed?”

“What? No. Sorry,” she mutters, going back to the ultrasound, feeling an encouraging flutter in her stomach. I didn’t find the bleed, she thinks apologetically. I found a segue.

—

It’s hours later when Nari finally gets a moment alone. Sitting at a table in the residents’ locker room, a sandwich in one hand and her phone in the other, she stares at her last chat with Seokjin. It’s a depressing series of heys and what’s ups and not muches, which is all it’s been for months now, ever since they’d last seen each other in August.

It started with superficial questions and forced conversation, half-hearted plans to meet before he had to leave for Europe again, until they dwindled down to monosyllabic answers that Nari found herself too humiliated to keep going, for more than one reason.

For one, it didn’t help her newfound insecurity of being a clingy friend, especially to a man who had made perfectly clear that he didn’t see her as anything but a friend. On top of that, she had no way of knowing what he was thinking. He wasn’t angry; she knew what Seokjin was like when he was angry and if he truly was, she would know. 

No, he wasn’t angry. He was… distant. Part of it could’ve been that he was busy, completing an entire promotional activity across Europe. But now that he’s back from their last stop in Japan, Nari knows that they have to get back on track. Being her date to a fundraiser isn’t her top pick, but it might just be the right balance between an organized event where he can’t ignore her and a public enough place that they won’t have to be alone at any point. Besides, if it doesn’t happen now, between his stint in Europe and his tour beginning early next year, she has a sinking feeling that their relationship will stagnate right here.  

She swallows, her heart racing slightly. It’s the middle of the night; Seokjin is most likely asleep, which gives her a great excuse to text and not call. 

Nari [01:11]

Hey.

She sends it before she loses her nerve, the soft whoosh sounding awfully final. Her stomach tugs uncomfortably with anxiety that she’s only recently started to associate with Seokjin, a strange and new feeling of not being able to expect what’s coming. 

She continues staring dementedly at the phone, its screen dark, until she finishes the entire sandwich. 

“It’s the middle of the fucking night, Nari,” she mutters to herself, standing up with a groan and stretching. There’s no point wasting her night worrying when she’s probably not going to get a response until tomorrow. She changes out of her scrubs and runs a hand through her unwashed hair, counting herself lucky that she can get a good six hours of sleep before she has to return in the morning.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle now; despite the cold, Nari tilts her head to the sky slightly, welcoming the fresh air. She runs her hands through her hair again, feeling the droplets cooling her scalp as her hair falls around her shoulders in clumpy strands. She doesn’t even make it past the entrance when she feels the unmistakable vibration of her phone in her bag, touching her hip. 

Nari freezes. This is unprecedented; Seokjin is never awake this late. Fishing out her phone, she lets out a low breath when she sees a message from him. She can ignore it, to be sure, and deal with it tomorrow morning - but then she would come off as a coward. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s ridiculously late, maybe it’s the fact that she just spent a better part of the evening fixing a bleed in a person’s abdomen - but the inner voice in her head simply sighs tiredly and goes it’s just Seokjin, prompting her to shake her head and open his message.

Kimbap [01:35]

Hey.

It’s anticlimactic, for sure, but still unexpected. Nari takes a seat on a bench near the parking lot and wipes the droplets off her screen with the sleeve of her jacket, hoping this isn’t going to be another one of their pointless conversations.

But he replied, didn’t he?

He did. Even though it’s the middle of the night. Encouraged, she responds.

Nari [01:39]

Didn’t expect you to be awake.

Kimbap [01:40]

We’re watching a movie at the dorm.

Nari [01:40]

Oh. Which one?

Kimbap [01:41]

Hereditary. I hate it.

Nari [01:41]

Jesus. Then why are you still watching it?

Kimbap [01:41]

There’s a bet and Jungkook is involved. It’s a long story.

Nari’s immediate response of I have time gets backspaced instantly. The honest truth is that she doesn’t have time and he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. She can’t be sure how well a joke will land right now but she also knows that she needs to respond fast or this is doomed to be another one of their hopeless attempts at a conversation.

All of a sudden, her phone rings and Nari almost drops it. It’s Seokjin, his name blinking bright on the screen. Now fully panicking - because this was not part of the plan - Nari looks around wildly around the empty parking lot, as though hoping for someone to spring out of the bushes and tell her what to do.

The phone is still ringing. Before she realises what’s happening, her thumb does an awkward sort of spasm and lands on the screen, answering the call.

Here goes nothing, she thinks. “Um, h-hello?” she stutters.

“Hey.” 

It’s like a football being kicked into her ribcage from the inside. Nari winces, wondering when her anxiety got this severe, to the point where her best friend’s voice is starting to cause her physical comfort. She leans back on the bench and tries to breathe slowly.

“Aren’t you, um, watching a movie?”

“Yeah. But if I’m on the phone, I have a decent excuse to get out of it.”

Oh. Nari feels her shoulders deflate. “Glad to be of help,” she murmurs, chuckling awkwardly. “How - how are you? Are you in Seoul?”

“Yeah, I am. Busy, though,” he adds quickly. “The album’s coming out in a week, so there’s a lot of work going on for it.”

“Right. Of course. How’s that going?”

“It’s fine. Hectic, as per usual. What about you?” he asks after a moment. “How’s the hospital, and the… surgeries and stuff?”

“Same. I mean, hectic. As usual.” Nari closes her eyes and feels her heart sink at the sheer effort this conversation is taking. She can’t begin to think about how they got here and it seems way too exhausting to even try.

“You sound tired.” Seokjin pauses, the sentence sounding incomplete. “Have you - I mean, are you still at the hospital?”

“Going home now. I just got a sandwich at the cafeteria,” she adds, hoping she’s guessed his half-question right. 

“Now? I thought you hated the night cafeteria.”

“I do, but it beats the vending machine crap. Have to make do when the jajjangmyeon isn’t an option,” she jokes, bracing herself for his response.

But all he does is chuckle half-heartedly. “Yeah. What’s up? You texted?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” Nari had barely worked up the nerve to text him about the fundraiser; asking him over the phone was a whole different ball game. “I was just thinking…” She trails off, her eyes widening as her vocal chords stay unwilling to go further.

“M-hm?”

Pull yourself together, woman.

“I was thinking that… we haven’t hung out in a while,” she ventures bravely, her knee jerking up and down. “And there’s a - there’s a thing later this week, so… that could be… you know.” She swallows, wishing Jason hadn’t put this stupid idea in her head in the first place. “... If you want,” she finishes lamely.

Seokjin is silent for a few seconds, during which Nari goes from anticipation to full-blown horror. “I’m sorry, are you - are you inviting me to something?” he asks, sounding confused.

“Um, kind of?”

“Like a party?”

“Well, no. Not a fun one,” she says wryly. “It’s a - there’s a fundraiser. And I have to go and… yeah, I was wondering if maybe you do, too. Since we haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Fundraiser, huh?” He doesn’t sound enthused at all. “Like, for charity? Wait, who’s the charity?”

“We are the charity,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “The hospital. Which means it’s just going to be all board members and senior doctors and other board members - and us. The residents.”

“Huh. Way to make it sound appealing, Nari.”

“It’s not appealing, at all. But it’s free food and booze and I get a chance to get out of my scrubs,” she points out. “Nice dress, straightened hair. And you’ll have to wear a suit,” she adds apologetically. 

“Right.” There’s a soft sound and Nari realises a moment later that he’s laughing quietly. It makes her stomach feel uncomfortably heavy. 

“What?” she asks, a bit defensively.

“Nothing,” he says, still chuckling. “We haven’t hung out in a while, so your idea was to do so at a… boring work event?”

Nari is quiet for a moment. The fact that he laughed is still prickling. “Well, I’d be open to other suggestions but you haven’t really had the time,” she can’t resist saying. “I work long hours; I don’t really get a lot of other opportunities to go out.”

“Yeah, Nari, I work long hours, too,” he reminds her, sounding irritatingly calm. “But if it’s either that or a hospital charity fundraising event filled with doctors… I think I’ll pick the long hours.” He chuckles again.

You’re a fucking idiot, Nari.

“Got it. See you around, Seokjin.”

“Nari, come on, I was joking -”

His words get cut off when she hangs up, fuming. She puts her phone on silent then, for good measure, and begins storming home in the cold. She won’t respond to any of his calls or messages tonight, the arse, she thinks. But fate must be on her side, for even after she gets home, changes and gets into bed, Seokjin doesn’t call or message.

—

Seokjin reaches the Big Hit building earlier than required. There’s no one in the rehearsal room yet, not even Hoseok, so he decides to get a much needed shot of caffeine from the cafeteria on the fourteenth floor. As he waits in line, he scans the food menu, each item like a gourmet creation.

Have to make do when the jajjangmyeon isn’t an option.

Seokjin sighs and tries not to think about what Nari had for dinner last night, but by the time his coffee is handed to him, he knows he’s a goner. It had taken him every ounce of restraint to not reach out to her again last night, knowing that no good would come of it. But now, in the light of day, he knows he can’t avoid it any longer. 

He calls her before he can talk himself out of it. Looking out at the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows and sipping his coffee, he hears her phone ring continuously until it goes to voicemail. He tries not to read too much into it; she’s probably already at work and she rarely answers unless she’s taking a break. It’s better than the other option; the feeling of Nari being angry with him is too foreign for him to consider right now.

He dials her number again to be certain and when it once again goes to voicemail, he clears his throat and takes another sip of coffee for liquid courage.

“Hey, Nari,” he begins, then sighs. “Look, I’m sorry if I was a bit of a dick last night. You just caught me off guard. Honestly, I… I didn’t think you really wanted to hang out with me so when you said you did, it just kind of threw me. And your event does sound boring,” he adds, hoping she hears the teasing in his voice, “but I’ll be there anyway. Suit and everything. I want to hang out with you, too,” he says after a moment, knowing the words don’t even begin to explain the magnitude of how much he wants to see her again, how hard it’s been to distance himself since the last time he saw her. “So… yeah. Text me the details.”

He should be saying something more but he can’t think what. As he looks around, hoping the words will come to him, he spots a figure just outside the cafeteria doors and does a double take. His mind runs through a myriad of memories to zero in on the right one, when he remembers he’s still on the phone.

“Anyway, I have to go. Bye.” Locking his phone and heading out towards the figure, Seokjin pushes his shoulders back and hopes he isn’t wrong. She’s in a slim navy blazer, skinny jeans and very high heels, a sleek laptop tucked under one arm and her fingers flying across the keypad of a Blackberry.

He taps her shoulder with a feather-light touch. “Um, hi? I think I have something that belongs to you?”

When she turns around, face carefully blank, Seokjin is momentarily sure of two things: one, that she is exactly who he thought she was, and two, that her lack of expression can only mean that she doesn’t remember him.

“You do?” A moment later, her perfectly lined lips tilt upwards slightly. “That’s right. What was it again?”

“Um…” Seokjin licks his lips, glad that he didn’t just go up to a random stranger and interrupt her in the middle of what seems to be a very long email. “I think it was a collectible of some kind? Very glamorous. Had a name on the inside?”

Her smile widens. “Do you remember what it was?”

Seokjin gulps but keeps his face still. “Of course. It was… Seulgi.” The relief at her nod is unexpected. “You think I’d forget the person that saved my hand that night? How would I ever hold a mic otherwise? My career might have been over!”

Seulgi laugh, a nice, low laugh. Her teeth are perfectly lined and perfectly white, shining against light bronze skin without a single pore. Her hair is long, straight and black, not a strand out of place. She looks like she belongs on a pamphlet for corporate employees.

Which reminds him.

“Do you - do you actually work here?” he asks. “In Big Hit?”

“Yeah,” she answers, looking only very slightly apologetic. “I thought I recognised you that night as well but I couldn’t be sure. I only just moved to the Marketing team. Sorry.”

“Uh, no, don’t be.” Seokjiin shakes his head. “It’s good to see you. And now I can return the wrist brace to you, too! This is great.”

“I mean, you don’t have to. I told you, I have a bunch of them,” she reminds him, raising her left hand slightly. From under the sleeve of her blazer, a navy blue brace, just like the purple one she’d lent him, peaks out. 

“No, no, I should,” he says anyway, shaking his head and glancing at the clock on his phone. There’s a message on his notification tray… “It’s back in my…” He wracks his brain, “... uh, flight. Which I took. The day after you lent me the brace.” He drops his face in his hands when she laughs again, low and husky.

“It’s really okay,” she says, touching his arm before taking a step back. “I actually do have a lot of them. And maybe they’ll help out some other poor soul who’s hurt his wrist.”

“That’s the hope,” he agrees, knowing his ears are reddening. “Man, I really wish I’d known you worked here. I would’ve… I don’t know. Broken the news about losing your brace sooner, for starters.”

“The loss would’ve been easier,” she agrees.

Seokjin bites his lip, preparing to let the awkwardness wash over him but it doesn’t. Seulgi’s warm, despite her appearance suggesting she’s about to walk into a room and fire a dozen people. 

“I feel really guilty, though,” he repeats after a moment. “Can I - I don’t know… buy you a coffee? It’s no collector’s edition wrist brace, but still?”

“Oh, that actually sounds good,” she replies, and for a moment his heart skips a beat of relief, “but the line seems long and I have a meeting.” She holds her Blackberry up apologetically. 

For the first time, Seokjin notices a Galaxy in her other hand – a personal cell and a work cell. She’s core corporate, he realises, possibly senior management. He doesn’t know why, but it’s slightly intimidating.

“Oh. Oh, okay. Sure.” He nods as she moves past him. “It was good to see you, though.”

“Yeah, you, too. Glad your wrist is better.” With a quick wave, she heads down the corridor and disappears from view.

Seokjin watches her leave, still cringing somewhat over the wrist brace he hasn’t thought about in months. She’d been the only person that night he’d had a normal conversation with - somehow, this doesn’t seem like the best way to show his gratitude.

It’s time to head for practice, anyway. As he steps into the elevator, he opens his messages and breathes a sigh of relief. 

Nari [09:14]

[Location]

Nari [09:14]

Friday, 7 pm

—

It’s hours later when they’re finally done with practice. All seven of them, a choreographer and a couple camerapersons are the only ones left. Jimin and Jungkook are still standing, going over their portion of the choreography as Hoseok watches, even though they look like they might collapse any second. Taehyung is spread-eagled on the floor, his bowl hat on his face. Yoongi is sitting in one corner of the room, staring into nothing.

Seokjin feels too tired to move, every single muscle aching. He leans back against the mirror and tries to catch his breath. Next to him, Namjoon is lying on the floor and texting. Seokjin catches a couple of words and immediately looks away; It seems to be in English, so it’s a fairly easy guess who the other person is.

“Any plans tonight, hyung?” Yoongi trudges over and tumbles down on his other side, crossing his legs.

“Not a one,” answers Seokjin. “In fact, I don’t think I’ll be getting out of bed for a while so if you need anything, I’ll respond to you in two to five business days.”

“You need to be at the studio tomorrow morning.”

There’s a pause. “Fine, but apart from that,” he amends, wagging his finger in Yoongi’s face, “two to five business days.”

“There’s also the interview on Friday.”

“Damn it, Yoongi,” groans Seokjin, glaring at him. “Fine, but that’s the last one. I have plans to vegetate all weekend in my apartment,” he informs him, knowing that there’s no way he'll get the entire weekend off, but needing to put across the point, “so just… don’t ruin it for me.” He watches Yoongi make a motion that might be a chuckle and rolls his eyes. “And besides, the interview is on Thursday. So my weekend begins on Friday.”

“The interview is on Friday,” says Yoongi calmly.

“No, it’s not. It’s Thursday. The twenty-fourth.”

“Thursday is the twenty-third.”

“No,” repeats Seokjin, feeling his pulse start to race, “it - it was always on Thursday.”

“No, it’s Friday,” pipes up Namjoon from his other side, not looking away from his phone.

And thus, Seokjin is left to spend the rest of the day in a growing pit of guilt, knowing that he’s going to have to disappoint Nari yet again - this time, completely unintentionally.

Her hesitation last night had not gone unnoticed by him. It was hard to hear but equally hard to respond to, and Seokjin half-hoped that she would find it too hard to go through with actually inviting him somewhere and drop the idea altogether. 

But she persisted and while it made Seokjin profusely glad that she still cared, it also meant that he would have to find a way to face her after avoiding her for months.

It doesn’t feel nearly as easy as it sounds, for Seokjin has absolutely no idea what to expect when it comes to Nari now. Part of him still feels guilty for lying to her the day after the wedding; her question had taken him completely off guard and lying about his feelings was the only way he’d been able to think of to avoid the situation getting worse.

It was a mess already but somehow, twenty-four hours later, it was So Much Worse. Somehow, Nari had come to him with a problem he couldn’t ignore. Somehow, he suddenly had to reevaluate his entire life with her in it, and somehow, in less than a day, his short-lived future with Nari as the mother of his child and best friend for life had been created and shattered.

It was hard to think of, and so much harder to talk to Nari about. Seokjin had been on the verge, dozens of times, of just breaking the ice and chatting with his best friend while he sat in cold European towns and watched Taehyung get his heart broken over and over again by Dilara Komyshan.

At least we’re not that bad yet, he’d tried to tell himself. He wanted to tell her, too, that they weren’t that bad, that they were okay, that he just needed some time. But the thought of confessing his surreal daydream, of irretrievably changing their friendship felt like too much of a responsibility - especially if she didn’t respond well. Avoiding her sucked, but it beat being around her with nothing to say.

Still, saying no to her outright, when she’d asked him point blank to accompany him to something was too hard. The fundraiser thing did sound boring, but he wanted to see her, too, so badly. It felt like a missing limb, not being able to talk to her. 

Nice dress, straightened hair. And he would have to be in a suit. He shudders when he remembers what happened the last time she was in a nice dress and he was in a suit. 

“Namjoon.” Seokjin jogs over to the leader as they’re heading out of the building to their cars in the basement. “About this press conference on Friday.”

“Yeah?” 

Seokjin hesitates, already sensing a no-nonsense mood. It hasn’t been the best day for Namjoon; the choreography was a complicated one, he was having to negotiate schedules all day, and if he’s not mistaken, he and Kaya have definitely been having some disagreement all day.

“About this press conference on Thursday -”

“Friday.”

“- I was - yes, Friday -” Seokjin clears his throat. “How important would you say it is for all of us to show up, on a scale of one to… Grammys?”

Namjoon stares. “At least VMAs.”

Seokjin nods seriously, even though it doesn’t help him in the least. “Okay,” he says, changing tacks, “how long do you think it’ll go on?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Namjoon sighs, scrolling through some document on his phone. “It should be done by six, but there’s a sponsors’ dinner after that - but that won’t be filmed so maybe we can leave early… of course, we’ll need to let management know so they have an exit plan…” He shakes his head and continues muttering under his breath.

“Okay, sure,” interrupts Seokjin, sensing that Namjoon is starting to lose the plot. “But what time do you think the event will actually end? Because I have to be somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Uh… a thing. With Nari,” he adds shortly. To his relief, Namjoon simply raises his eyebrows but doesn’t probe.

“I - I don’t know, hyung,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all. It’s definitely a fight with Kaya. “We won’t know until we get there. Depends on the sponsors. If it helps, it’s happening right here, in this building.”

It does help, a bit, for the location is closer to the Big Hit building than the hospital is. Still, it could be better.

“Look, I just need to tell Nari if I can make it or not,” he says, no longer beating around the bush. “I don’t want to make her a promise I can’t keep.”

Namjoon licks his lips slowly and nods. “I think you’ve been in this business long enough to know the answer to that, hyung,” he says cryptically, patting his shoulder and walking away.

“What the hell does that mean?” Seokjin demands, but Namjoon just shrugs and continues walking away. 

He does know what it means, though. But you’re a coward, Kim Seokjin, says the voice inside his head, sounding like Nari’s, as he prepares to text her later that night rather than call, knowing (and somewhat hoping) that she’ll be too busy to answer right away.

Seokjin [20:11]

I have some not so great news.

To his horror, she replies almost immediately.

Nari [20:13]

Bring it.

Seokjin [20:13]

Promise you won’t get mad?

Nari [20:14]

I’m two beers and a tequila shot down. This would be the right time to give me some not so great news.

Seokjin pauses. She’s drinking, which means she got off work at a reasonable time tonight. He should be glad about that, for her, but he can’t figure out what is also bothering him about it.

Seokjin [20:16]

Oh? No surgeries?

Nari [20:16]

Nope, I’m not on call tonight. I was going to go home and crash but the others convinced me to have a drink first.

Seokjin [20:17]

Sounds like more than a drink.

Nari [20:18]

I may have gotten carried away, but zero regrets. 

Seokjin [20:18]

Do you have a ride home?

Nari [20:19]

I live half a block away from the hospital. I’m sure most of these guys will crash at my place when they’re too trashed to get home.

Seokjin [20:19]

Are you sure?

Nari [20:20]

Yes. You don’t have to worry about me, you know.

She’s drunk; her transparency makes that clear. This may be the best or the worst time to give her the news, but Seokjin doesn’t think he can continue worrying about this for the rest of the night.

Seokjin [20:21]

Okay. Look, I need to talk to you about Friday.

Nari [20:21]

Something came up and you don’t think you can make it?

Seokjin’s heart jerks. He may not have met Nari much over the last few months, but he still knows her well enough to tell when she’s reaching the end of her tether.

Seokjin [20:22]

It’s a press thing. I can’t miss it.

Nari [20:23]

Of course. Unfortunate that you found out about it only today.

Seokjin [20:23]

No, it’s not that. I actually forgot. I thought it was on Thursday but it turns out it’s actually Friday. It’s my fault - I mixed up the days.

Nari [20:24]

Of course. Some other time, I guess.

Seokjin can picture her scoff, locking her phone and placing it on a bar table, screen down. He scrambles.

Seokjin [20:25]

I’m just saying I’ll be a little late.

Nari [20:25]

Late? Are you sure?

Seokjin [20:26]

Yeah. I don’t know how late but I’ll be there. I’ll try my best anyway.

Nari [20:26]

I’m sure you will.

This time, her status goes from “online” to “offline” and he knows she’s gone. This is a side of Nari he hasn’t seen in years: snide and sarcastic. It’s incredibly rare, requires a mix of things to be going wrong in her life, and has never, ever been directed at him.

Seokjin feels squeamish and guilty and helpless all at once - but he’s also beginning to get mildly annoyed. He’s determined to show up now, if for nothing else than to prove her wrong. 

Take that, Nari. He pictures showing up at the event, jogging up the stairs and bursting into a hall filled with white-haired individuals in conservative finery. Nari, in the same leaf-green bridesmaid’s dress with strappy high heels, would be at the end of the hall at the bar, looking victorious at the assumption that he hasn’t shown. The crowd would part then and she would turn, the satisfied smirk fading at the sight of him, late and panting - but there.

The next moment, Seokjin cringes at this ridiculous fantasy. Even the imaginary voice in his head that sounds a bit like Nari snickers. 

—

Nari fingers the strap of her dress nervously, feeling rather odd at being this dressed up around people who only ever see her in scrubs. Most of the other doctors seem to be feeling similarly, though, and she tries to coach herself to remember that they’re still the same people - just wearing make-up and cologne.

“Hey,” comes Jason’s voice from behind her, and she turns, glad to see someone she knows. “You - wow, you look amazing.”

“Really?” Nari asks quickly, smoothing down her dress. It’s long and plain black, nothing fancy, with a thin necklace and the only strappy high heels she owns. “It’s not too low cut?”

“Um -” Jason frowns and immediately looks away. “I - I don’t know. It looks - I mean, I didn’t -” He stutters in confusion, his gaze darting around in panic. “I don’t - I mean, should I look?”

“What? No, of course not.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Sorry. I’m just not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“This,” she says, referring to nothing in particular. “The dress and the hair and the - the make-up. I don’t do it very often.” Looking up to see him still deliberately looking away, she slaps his shoulder. “Damn it, Jace, you can look at me now.”

“Oh.” He makes a big show of slowly moving his gaze towards her, grinning when she chuckles begrudgingly. “Don’t worry, dude. You look great.”

“Thanks. You, too, by the way,” she says honestly, noting the suit and the neatly brushed hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your jaw this smooth,” she remarks, turning his chin slightly.

“A last minute shave in the residents’ locker room changed the game.” Jason rubs his jaw and winces slightly. “Should I be concerned about my skills as a surgeon that I cut myself in two different places while doing it?”

Nari laughs, feeling slightly less nervous. “Not unless you’re the patient. Also, where the hell is everybody else?”

“Oh, Daeun got pulled into surgery - her motorcycle guy ruptured his spleen,” he answers, gesturing to the bartender. “She said she’d be back if it got over in time. Hyeri had to monitor her valve replacement lady to see if she’ll make it through the night. Oh, and Eunji is over there,” he adds, pointing to the other end of the hall.

Nari squints in the direction he’s pointing. “Who’s that she’s with?” 

“Her boyfriend, probably.” Jason shrugs as the bartender comes over. “A chaebol type, from what I can tell. Hey. you want a drink?”

“Uh, sure. Beer. Wait, can we have beer?” She frowns.

“I don’t know. Not fancy enough, is it?”

“We don’t have beer,” volunteers the bartender.

“Right,” says Nari. “In that case, I will have a glass of your strongest… whatever is strongest.”

Jason nods seriously. “Two of those. Thank you.”

The bartender raises an eyebrow but nods anyway, going back to mix their drinks. 

“So… it’s just you and me?” She leans back against the bar and scans the room. “Wait, do you have a date coming, too?”

“What?” Jason wrinkles his nose. “No. I’ve been on a neuro rotation all week - I haven’t had time to breathe, forget about looking for a date. You?”

“Have I had time to breathe?”

“Do you have a date.”

“Right.” Nari bites her lip. “Not exactly. I mean, I - I invited a friend. Seokjin - you met him, remember?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jason nods as their drinks arrive and they automatically pick theirs up. “Cheers. So why isn’t he a date?”

“Because he’s a friend.” As she says it, a terrifying possibility occurs to her: could Seokjin actually think this is a date? It would explain his random excuse to arrive “late” - if he does at all.

“He is? Really?” He looks mildly curious. “Because that night at Hyeri’s - I could’ve sworn he had a thing for you.”

Nari’s heart skips a beat. “You’re not the first person to think that,” she mutters into her glass, taking a stinging sip of what tastes like scotch. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

“It’s strong,” he remarks. “But I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, the painful humiliation of that moment after the wedding seeping into her body again. “Just… he doesn’t. Have a thing for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really? I mean, because it seemed like -”

“Jason,” she interrupts him, needing this conversation to end. “He doesn’t. Believe me. I’m completely sure.”

For a moment, it looks like he’s going to say something else but then seems to think the better of it. Nari is thankful; reliving that moment is bad enough, but her mind is now also preoccupied with the possibility that Seokjin might be avoiding coming tonight because he thinks she’s asked him on a date - and because he’s nice and can’t reject her outright twice, he’s having to resort to half-hearted lies and work excuses.

It’s a grim thought. She and Seokjin haven’t spoken since he told her he’d try to make it - and she’d been less than gracious about it. It was the alcohol, she’d reasoned the next morning, and despite the annoyance with his flimsy attempts at avoiding her, she’d dropped him a cursory Seriously, don’t worry about it. She’d waited just long enough to get a I’ll still try my best, and tried not to think about it since.

Nari takes another sip of her disgusting drink, not sure which is worse - if he shows or if he doesn’t.

—

“There he is. Jerk.”

Seokjin’s ears perk up at Taehyung’s quiet snarl. He follows the younger member’s gaze and feels his mouth twist as well when he spots the one journalist who had pestered them relentlessly with questions, each one more backhanded than the previous one, ranging from their solo ambitions to accusations of plagiarism.

“Where’s Namjoon?” he mutters, looking around. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t run into that guy without other guests around. Or witnesses,” he adds.

“He’s over by the water,” supplies Jungkook. “I think he’s talking to one of the sponsors.”

“Let’s keep an eye on him, then,” says Yoongi dryly. “Just in case he decides to do something drastic, like get into a logically structured argument.”

Seokjin half-chuckles. He does want Namjoon to come over, partly to keep an eye on him but mostly to check when he can leave. He checks his phone; it’s almost eight. As much as Nari’s last message, days ago, hadn’t seemed at all confident that he would make it, it only made him more determined to show up.

Namjoon doesn’t come over, though. Eventually, Seokjin joins him, hoping to get a moment of his time between guests.

“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests, after another one of the sponsors leave and Namjoon’s well-practiced public smile fades. “Eat something? Or even have a drink?”

Namjoon smiles wearily. “Thanks, hyung. Maybe later.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I can’t wait to get out of here. Zoom date with Kaya,” he adds, answering Seokjin’s silent question.

“Then we should leave now,” he says immediately, jumping at the opportunity. “Or you’ll just get even more tired and you’ll have to cancel on Kaya.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the only thing I’ve been looking forward to all day,” he replies, shaking his head. “There’s no way I’m cancelling.”

Seokjin responds to this with a grimace; while he would ordinarily find it sweet, right now, this blatant happiness is just annoying. He tries to think of another line of reasoning that could convince Namjoon to bounce, but before he can, two middle-aged people, one man and one woman, join them.

There’s some initial greeting; Seokjin gets through it robotically while Namjoon goes from tired to charming in a microsecond. The topic predictability begins with the press conference that just took place, followed by both guests praising Namjoon for his wonderful answers that he receives with respectful gratitude.

“I’m sorry you all have to stay for the dinner,” the woman says to Seokjin while the other two speak about something else. “You’re so young; I’m sure you all have other plans tonight.”

Lady, you have no idea. But he forces a smile on his face. “We’re happy to be here. Besides, if I’m lucky,” he adds hopefully after a moment, “my plans might still be there after this.”

“Oh?” The lady seems most interested. “A fancy party you need to get to?”

“Something like that. I have to meet someone at an event.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No,” he answers hastily. “Just a friend. It’s a work thing at the hospital she works. She’s a doctor,” he adds for good measure.

To his surprise, the lady nods. “Oh, I know that. It’s a fundraiser, right? Seoul National Hospital?” When Seokjin raises his eyebrows and nods, she smiles in acknowledgement. “I have a couple of friends there, too. Those doctors do such good work - pity they don’t have the money to continue their work in peace. Your friend is smart, though,” she says after a moment, patting Seokjin’s shoulder with a knowing look, “inviting a BTS member to the event.”

Seokjin doesn’t immediately understand. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, they need the money, don’t they?” She chuckles, sounding almost impressed. “Not a lot of people have the contacts to bring in someone like BTS to be a donor.”

Something drops in his stomach. “Oh, I - I think you’ve misunderstood. She’s my friend and we - we haven’t met in a long time because we’ve both been very busy. It’s not a - I mean, I’m not a - a donor.”

The lady looks confused for a moment. “Oh. My apologies. It just seemed like a smart thing to do, you know?”

Seokjin swallows. “Sure,” he says shortly. “But, uh… it’s not like that.” He nods to himself, knowing he’s right. “Nari would never do that.”

—

Nari shuffles through the crowd to where she can see Jason with Eunji and her boyfriend, taking care not to trip in her heels. She sees them turn and spot her as she gets close, but she doesn’t have time for pleasantries.

“Incoming,” she states. All of their eyes dart up and behind her; Eunji is the first one to notice.

“Damn it. Come on, babe,” she commands her partner, taking his hand and setting off. “Let’s go dance before he gets us.” In a flash of a second, they’re both gone.

“Okay, it’s our turn,” she says hurriedly to Jason, placing her drink on the bar and gathering her long dress in her hand. “If Dr Jung gets hold of us, it’s going to be a repeat of the mixer.”

Jason grimaces. “Oh, God. You mean when he tried to recruit each of us one by one by using his holiday calendar as a selling point?”

“That’s the one. Come on, he’s already seen me, but maybe we can still make a break for it!” she whispers dramatically, getting ready to go but stopping when he grabs her wrist.

“It’s too late,” he says gravely. “We’re going to need another plan. Tell me about your craniotomy today.”

“I - what?” Nari’s eyes widen. “Did you not hear me?”

“I did. Now talk to me about something medical,” he instructs. “And make it seem like there’s a problem - like, just talk urgently. Come on,” he urges, shaking her wrist.

“Um - okay, uh, the patient came in with migraines and was having seizures so we did an MRI and found an aneurysm located in the temporal lobe of the brain -”

“That’s great,” he whispers, and Nari notices his gaze slide carefully to the left to watch Dr Jung reach them, before quickly looking back at Nari. “But his vitals still aren’t stable,” he says suddenly, at a regular volume.

Nari’s jaw drops before she realises what he’s doing. “His blood pressure is what we need to observe carefully or he’s going to need another surgery tomorrow.”

“Is there any chance the aneurysm could’ve burst anyway? Even after you clipped it?”

Nari stares, a little thrown by how convincing his acting is. 

“Answer me!”

“A little over the top, don’t you think?” she mutters.

“The man is two feet behind you,” he replies, equally quietly, before tugging her closer and placing his hands dramatically on her shoulders. “What if it’s a brain bleed? What if -”

“How dare you?” She interrupts him, jabbing him in the chest. “My aneurysm was clipped perfectly, you son of a bitch!”

Jason’s eyes flicker with this unexpected turn of conversation but he plays along. “We still need to get an MRI to rule out any other complications, like a hematoma, or an air embolism or -” He pauses, craning his neck slightly, “... and he’s gone.” His shoulders relax and his hands slide off her arms.

“No way did that work,” she marvels in a low voice, turning around to check and see that he’s right.

“Of course it did. Nobody interrupts two doctors discussing a patient,” he says absently, rubbing a spot on his chest. “You may need some practice, though. I think you bruised my chest.”

“Don’t be a baby,” she tells him teasingly, asking for another drink and feeling a lot more relaxed than before. “But that was a pretty neat trick.”

“I can teach you many, young ‘un,” he says seriously, casually taking a sip of his third scotch. “But I don’t think we have the time tonight. Won’t Seokjin be here soon?”

Her drink arrives then and Nari takes it with a quiet thanks. Taking a larger sip than intended, she shakes her head. “He’s not going to make it,” she says, swallowing and wincing.

“Oh.” Jason frowns. “Did he call?”

“Nope.” Nari shakes her head, finding it a bit sad how unsurprised she is. “But he’s not going to make it.”

His frown deepens slightly and she’s sure he’s picked up on her change in tone, but she’s thankful he doesn’t mention it.

“Do you want to learn another trick then?” he offers.

Nari smiles, trying to look at the bright side: Seokjin would not have enjoyed this. He wouldn’t know anyone and he wouldn’t understand any of their conversation. A call would have been nice, but things aren’t the same anymore. 

She’s here, she has a night off, and she’s not alone. It could be a lot worse.

“Sure,” she answers. “But I’m going to need to be a lot more drunk for the next one.”

—

The ETA on the map says forty minutes. Seokjin has no idea how long hospital fundraisers last, but he needs to try. He exits the building, already tired from the negotiating he had to do to leave early. It’s starting to drizzle, so he ducks into the nearest establishment - a small cafe - as he waits for his car. The traffic outside is ridiculous, though; he hasn’t the faintest idea how long it’ll actually take him to get to the fundraiser.

Nari hasn’t called or messaged, though. Neither has he, he knows, but her last message had implied such a lack of faith in his intention to show up that it had rankled him just a bit. Over the course of the week, it had festered until it’s now more of a challenge than anything else, for he can’t think of a single other reason as to why he’s going to this thing. 

For Nari, says the voice weakly, sounding unconvinced. Nari, it seems, neither knows nor cares if he shows up, for all the interest she’s shown in his whereabouts. I’ll try me best, he’d said, meaning it completely, but she clearly didn’t believe it.

Seokjin sighs, mentally so exhausted that he can’t even muster the energy to be annoyed or hurt or confused right now. He’s just about to step back outside when he hears a voice he doesn’t expect.

“Can I get a bottle of water, please?”

He turns to see straight hair and a blazer, mint green this time, with the sleeves pushed up. “Seulgi?” he calls unsurely.

She turns and her eyes light up in recognition. “Hey, Seokjin. How are you?”

“Tired,” he admits. “You?”

“The same. Just trying to find the guiltiest pleasure on the menu to break my diet with tonight,” she says, pointing at the few items on the board. “It’s just been one of those days.”

“Tell me about it,” he murmurs, taking a few steps to stand beside her. “Anything catch your eye?”

“Not really. It’s just sandwiches,” she grumbles. “But I don’t really have a lot of options right now.”

Seokjin is quiet for a few seconds while she gets a bottle of water and takes a long swig from it. “I actually know of a ramen place close by. If you want. I break my diets there all the time,” he tells her.

“Really?” This time he isn’t imagining it; her eyes do light up. “How much?”

“Well… enough to feel like I’ve rebelled against the company for the night, but not so much that I can’t resume it the next day.”

“That’s the perfect amount.”

“Is that a yes?”

Seulgi grins tiredly, reminding him for a moment of Namjoon earlier tonight. “It is.” Her eyes flicker lower and her smile fades. “Oh, wait. You’re in a suit - are you going somewhere?”

Seokjin bites his lip. “I was at the press conference, and the dinner after that.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t look fully convinced. “And you were going… where?”

“Well, now I’m going to get ramen because it’s in my head.”

She cracks a smile. “I’m serious, though. You’re in a suit,” she repeats, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere?”

Question of the hour. But Seokjin knows that even if he does make it through the traffic, this will still be the easiest conversation he’s going to have all day.

“No. I don’t need to be anywhere.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Maybe I Should Have Ducked?

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Wanna Feel Safe Again

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

San Francisco is usually beautiful in late Spring. The air wasn’t sweltering yet, the flowers were in bloom.  

And the rivalry with Los Angeles was in full swing.  

Frank gritted his teeth at the thought of having to see Bobby Fuller again.  That asshole had been traded two years after the Vegas incident and he and Frank had been at each others throats during that time. So seeing him with the Giants was hard.  The Dodgers would be playing the Giants more often than he did with the Red Sox.  

During the first inning, there was almost a full out brawl when the pitcher almost hit Frank in the head with an errant pitch. Frank got into his face but never made a violent move.  The benches were  given a warning and play continued.  

Abby sat in the dugout as the trainer on the field, a responsibility that she enjoyed because not only was she involved with the team, but she was also close to Frank.  They didn’t interact much, knowing the TV cameras were everywhere, but Frank gave her a side smirk every once in a while, allowing the butterflies to gather in her stomach. When he could, he gave her a gentle touch, so she knew he was there.  

It seemed the game calmed down for a few innings until the top of the sixth.  Frank was back at bat and observed a pitching changeup.  The new pitcher, Smith, stopped to hear something from Fuller and then warmed up. Frank was curious but he let it go, concentrating on the pitch. The first one was low and inside, the second was away.  Frank smirked. He knew he just needed to be patient.  

Except when the fastball went wide of the box. And bounced off of Frank’s hand and into his face.  

He dropped to the ground, not moving. Abby grabbed her bag and followed another trainer out to the field. “Adler? Frank? Can you hear me?” Abby looked at Dave, the other trainer. “We need to move him. Get the brace.”  After fitting Frank with the neck brace, Dave and Abby carefully turned him over. “Oh Frankie,” she whispered.  

Frank had blood coming from the side of his face. “Fuck,” he moaned.  He blinked. “Cricket?”  

“Oh thank God. Let’s get the backboard,” she ordered Dave. As the EMTs came in, she smiled down at Frank. “If you wanted my attention, there are other ways Franklin.”  

“Full name treatment. I’m an injured man Cricket.” He smiled but immediately grimaced. Johnny came over to check on him.  “Hey man.”  

“Adler, jesus, are you ok?” 

“Maybe I should have ducked?” 

Abby smacks his shoulder. “We’re gonna get him checked out Storm.”  They loaded him to a cart as the crowd in San Francisco clapped and Frank gave a wave.  

The ride to the hospital was quick and Abby spoke with the attending physician to advise what happened.  She stood back in the examination room as the doctors on call checked him over.  The lead doctor came to speak to Abby. “Dr. Hernandez, it looks like Mr. Adler has a very minor concussion, a contusion on his face that will require a couple of stitches and a broken pinkie finger.  My recommendation is three weeks of healing.”  

Abby let out a sigh of relief. “That's better news than I had hoped for.  I agree with your assessment.  I will let the team know. Thank you so much.”  

“We can release him in your care today but no flying for 48 hours. Let me know if you need anything else?” 

“Just copies of his records for the team.” They shook hands and Abby went to Frank. “How do you feel about a small vacation?” 

“That bad?” 

“Broken pinkie, a small cut that needs stitches, and a small concussion. The League is putting you into concussion protocol, which is two weeks and the pinkie will need an extra week.  I’m sorry love, but three weeks on the injury reserved.”  

“That’s all of June,” Frank whines as he leans his head back.  Abby runs her nails through his scalp gently and he lets out a hum of contentment. “Will you stay with me Cricket?” He looked at her with puppy eyes.  

“I will have to work a little but yes, I can stay with you.”  

“What about...” 

“He’s back east with the firm. He took a case over there that will last about a month.” She bit her lip. “We’ll be fine.”  

Frank kissed the inside of her wrist. “I love you.”  

“I love you.  Now, let’s get you discharged and to the hotel. I need to let Todd know your status and have another trainer join the team for the rest of the trip.”  

When Frank and Abby arrived back at LAX, a teary Mary and Scott were waiting for them.  Mary ran up to Frank and he scooped her up with his good hand.  She cried into his neck, and he tried to sooth her. “Hey Nugget, its ok, I’m ok.”  

Mary pulled back and squished his face between her small hands.  She pushes his head around, inspecting the cut and his eyes. “Frank, you scared me.” She pushes his lips to make him smile. “You’re smiling.”  

“Yeah, I scared me too.  But Abby took good care of me.”  He flashed a soft smile to Abby before Mary launched herself into Abby.  

“Thank you, Abby, for taking care of Frank.”  

“Always Nugget. I’ll always take care of my family.”  She put Mary down so Frank could take her hand and she turned to Scott.  “How bad?” 

“She cried until you guys called. It was pretty scary.” Scott huffs.  “If he wanted your attention...” 

“I did not do it to get her attention,” Frank growled.  “If I wanted to get her attention, I would just need to show her my...” 

“Franklin!” 

Scott snickered as Frank groaned.  “Franklin, that’s so lame,” Mary says.  

Frank looks at Abby, who blows him a kiss. He shakes his head but returns the gesture as they make it out to the car.  Getting home, Frank gets to the couch and leans his head back. “Are you in pain Frankie?” 

“A little, Cricket.” He grimaces. “Just feel pressure behind my eyes.”  

“Yep, that’s the concussion.” Abby reaches for her bag and takes out a couple of tablets. “Here, let me get you some water.” Scott comes around with a bottle of water and Frank looks at him gratefully. He swallows the medicine and tries to close his eyes. “Baby, if you want to sleep, you should be in your room with the curtains closed. You’ll feel better, promise.”  

“Will you lay with me?” he asked pathetically.  

“Sure love.”  She helps Frank up and into his room. She gets him down and curled up against him. “Better?” He nodded and closed his eyes. “Rest, my love.  I’ll be right here.”  

The next ten days were calm with Frank still recovering from his concussion. On day 12, he became restless. He woke up with his Cricket in his arms, her butt right up against his pelvis. Christ, her ass is perfect, he thinks. He lets his hand wander down, dipping below her panties. She sighs in her sleep, but Frank wants to wake her up. He pulls her leg over his hip to open her up and lets his fingertips dip into her folds. Fucking wet and warm for him, like always. He slowly sinks a finger in.  

“Frankie,” she moans softly. “Baby, your head.” 

“It is clear as ever Cricket. Can I have you?” She nods and Frank smiles. He adds a finger and pumps at a steady rhythm. She cries out quietly and he palms her clit.  He brings her to the brink and watches as she shatters in his arms.  

“Need. More,” she pants.  

“Whatever you need Cricket.”  Frank pushes her panties down her legs and then pushes his own boxers down, grasping her knee and pulling it back over his hip.  He let his tip dance around the remnants of her release before slowly pushing in. She purrs at the stretch, and he gives a low chuckle.  “Can you be quiet for me Cricket? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?” He feels her nod against his ear. He pulls back and rocks back into her and he can feel her hum at the sensation.  “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”  

Abby is lost in the sensation of Frank taking her apart slowly. He isn’t rough or fast, just taking his time, making her feel everything. She whimpers at a particularly deep thrust into her womb but she doesn’t cry out. “That's my good Cricket,” he whispers, making her clench around him. “Didn’t realize you have a thing for praise, my love.”  

“Frankie,” she whispered. “Don’t be cruel.”  

“Never, my love.” He ran a finger down her skin until he met her clit.  He rubbed slowly, feeling her build around his cock. “Are you almost there? I know you are, can feel it.”  

“Yes,” she gasped. He didn’t stop until she shattered, seeing stars as he pumped in one, two, three and released inside of her with a low groan.  

“I love you.”  

“I love you more.”  

“Not possible.”  

“Let’s take a trip.”  

Abby looks from her coffee. “What?” 

“Let’s go on a trip.  Nug has her trip to DC this week, Scott’s heading back to Boston while she’s gone. I can’t stare at these walls anymore Cricket.”  

“You’re on injured reserve Frankie, you can’t just take a trip.”  

Frank pouts and gives her puppy eyes.  “Please?” 

“Oh so you think that just giving me eyes and a sweet little please is going to change my mind.”  Abby turns back to her computer with a scoff.  She misses Frank coming from behind her and sweeping her curls off of her shoulder.  He presses sweet kisses to her neck and shoulders, watching her lose her head and tilt back, exposing more of her.  

“I can stop, my love, and just go back to the couch.”  

“N-no.” She closes her eyes as her hand cups the back of his neck.  She can feel his smile against her skin.  

“Just a few nights. Please.”  

Abby starts to lose control of her gasps. She knows she needs to be quiet but the sensation of his lips on the column of her throat is one of the best she’s ever felt. “Ok,” she whispers as he nips her gently. “Fine, where do you want to go?” 

After Mary is dropped off with the school for her trip, Frank heads to the airport to drop Scott off for his flight to Boston.  “Have fun Frank,” he said with a wink.  

“You too Scott.” He gave him a hug and walked back to his car.  As he drove away from LAX, a sign blinked at him and an idea hit him. It was time, he thought to himself. He messaged Abby.  

Frank: pack for the heat  Abby: Why?  Frank: I want to take you somewhere and it will be hot.   Abby: I hate being hot.   Frank: Humor me  Abby: 😑 Fine.   Frank: Love you. 😘 

Abby packed her suitcase, smiling at the message Frank sent when another popped up 

Mike: How’s the road trip?  Abby: Fine.  Mike: I miss you  Abby: You too  Mike: I’ll be home in a week.   Abby: Ok, I’ll be home 

“Fuck,” she muttered.  She hated that she hadn’t had the nerve to just break it off yet. She was just scared of Mike’s reaction. Abby wasn’t normally a confrontational person.  The last time she was hostile, well, she lost Frank. The memory made her sad. When she heard the door open, she shook it off and closed her case.  

“Hey Cricket. All set?” Frank’s excitement was in the air.  

“Yeah baby, I’m all set.” Abby smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Gonna tell me where we are going?” 

He kissed her nose. “Nope. Let’s go.” He grabbed her bag and his and headed to his Camero.  

“I can’t believe you still have this car.”  

“I can’t believe you would think that I got rid of it.” Frank started the car and headed out. “This is my prize for getting drafted.”  

“And here I thought that was me,” she replied without a thought. Frank smile dropped a little. He swallowed, wondering if this road trip idea was smart. He stayed silent, thinking about all the details and hoped that she would listen.  

A few hours later, Abby’s face was in disbelief.  Frank had taken them to Las Vegas.  She didn’t know what to say. Why would he bring them to the very place that had broken them?  Having never been to the city herself, she was awestruck at the lights and sounds.  Frank pulled into a fancy one, the Bellagio and had the valet take their car and bags.  He held her hand as they walked into the lobby.  Abby gasped as she took in the glass flower ceiling. “Wow.”  

“It is beautiful,” Frank commented. “When the team had come out here and we were walking around, I remember thinking that you would have loved this.”  

“Is this... is there where...” 

“No Cricket. I will never go back to that particular hotel ever again.” Frank checked them in and a hotel concierge walked them to their room.  “This is one of our high roller suites, sir.  If you need anything just call the desk and someone will be right up.”  

“Thank you.” Frank tipped the man as Abby took in the room.  It faced out to the strip and she could see the other hotels. Suddenly, what sounded like a cannon blasted water up in the air and the fountain began to dance.  

“The fountain,” she squealed as Frank chuckled. She could faintly hear the remnants of a Frank Sinatra in the air as the towers of water began to dance.  When it ended, Abby clapped. “That was amazing.”  

“It says here that it happens every half hour to a new song until midnight so we can watch it again if you like Cricket.”  Frank loved watching her as she enjoyed the show.  It was something he remembered from that awful October, wishing he could have shared it with her then. “C’mon baby, let me feed you and we can take a walk.”  

After a delicious meal, Frank and Abby walked hand in hand on the crowded streets. They pointed at the different signs, different characters that were walking the strip, laughing, and enjoying being just Frank and Abby.  As they approached one hotel, Frank’s palms began to sweat. “Frankie?” 

“Can I tell you a story? It doesn’t have a happy ending but maybe we can rewrite it.” Frank looked to his feet.  

“You can talk to me about anything, love.” Abby cupped his cheek. “Take your time.”  

Frank swallowed.  “About five years ago, I won the big game for my team, and we came here to celebrate. I really didn’t want to because I had my amazing girlfriend and my darling little niece at home, but I didn’t want to come off as a bad team player.  My best friend came with me, and we lived it up.  Our captain had gotten us a couple of tables at a club, and we had fun.” Frank sighed and pointed to the club in front of the MGM. “See that sign? Its for the club we went to.  This is the hotel we were staying at.  Anyways, we partied and went back to the suite where some of us had been staying at.”  

“Alone?” She asked, quietly.  

“Me, yes.  Some women approached me that night, but I refused.  I wasn’t drinking as much as the rest of the guys from what I can remember. Anyways, some of the guys had brought girls back with us and the hotel had set up a bar for us to drink from.  There was a pool off the balcony of the room and the girls were getting in with just their underwear.  I was uncomfortable.  I said that to Mike. The last thing I remember clearly was him handing me a glass of scotch.  He said, ‘Adler, you earned this.’ You’re a good man to Abby and a wonderful father to Mary.  Just relax and enjoy.’” 

“Mike handed you that drink?” 

“That’s the last one I remember.  When I woke up, I was in a room, not mine. My head was splitting, and I was dehydrated.  I made it to the bathroom and when I looked back, I saw the blonde. I yelled at her, asking her what the fuck she was doing in my room. She panicked and said she didn’t remember coming in there with me.  Mike rushed in and told her to get out while checking over with me.  I asked him what I had done, and he said, I swear, he said that I got drunk, and I couldn’t make it to my room so he put me in his.”  

Abby closed her eyes. “Why would Mike lie?  He had no reason to.”  

“Abby, I love how you are so trusting but Mike has had it bad for you since high school. But he knew I liked you and was working up the nerve to tell you for years. But back to the story. I called Steve and asked what I should do.  He was here as well with another client.  He asked me to stop the girl and ask her for the truth.  I did manage to stop her, ask her and promise not to go to the press.  I would pay anything for it not to go to press.  I needed to tell you first.  Steve showed up and got an NDA in place. He talked to her and she confirmed, nothing happened.”  

“But then the pictures came out.”  

“Then the pictures came out.  I was so angry that someone, who knows who, they violated my privacy, my trust.  I was desperately trying to get to you first but by the time I landed, it was too late. You didn’t let me explain and I lost you.”  

“Oh Frankie,” she cried as she pressed herself into his chest.  

“I’m so sorry Cricket. I should have called, I should have done something else to stop this from happening. I lost five years with you when a simple phone call would have solved everything.  I am so sorry.”  

“I’m sorry too Frankie, I should have just taken a moment to listen to you. When I got those texts of those photos...” 

Frank pulled back. “What texts?” 

“I got an anonymous text with the photos and an audio of you just says, “I can’t tell Abby,” I thought, well I thought it was more common.”  

“You don’t know who sent it.” She shook her head. “Fuck, I don’t, I don’t even know what to say.  I was always going to tell you but I didn’t want to do it by phone.” He pulled her back into his arms and held her tight. “I love you Cricket.  I never stopped.” He kissed the top of her head as they held each other.  

Abby sighed after a while.  “Take me to bed?” 

Frank didn’t answer, just turned away from the hotel that ruined his life and started back to the fountain.  As they walked, Abby spotted something and stopped.  “Cricket?” 

She pointed at the building. “We could make better memories.”  

Frank stared at the building and back at his girl.  

Next

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @before-we-get-started @jennmurawski13-writes @tinkerbelle67 @bunnyforhim

[alpydk]

Fix You (ch2)

Chase x OC (F)

Max is working in a bar during Halloween. Chase has recently been left by his wife Cameron. Can they fix each other? Sets off after the episode Teamwork where Cameron leaves. (s6e8) - Expect it to alter from the main series, because as far as I'm concerned Chase deserved a happy ending.

Ao3 Link

I stay inside my bed I have lived so many lives all in my head And don’t tell me that you care There really isn’t anything now, is there?

---

Chase felt the thud in his head before the sound of the cane landing on the floor heavily behind him hit his senses. Waking late, hungover, still in the khaki green from the night before, was not the best of the starts to a morning. It had been a rush. One that had resulted in florescent office lights and the smug look of Foreman sitting across from him; neither of which Chase wanted. He wanted the painkillers to kick in, the room to be darker, to just be alone in his apartment.

He’d managed to get in moments before House had dropped the files in front of them all, the squeaking of the marker pen on the whiteboard commencing the start of another mystery to be solved. Thirteen grabbed the stack of papers, sharing them out to each one of the participants. Taub was more interested in the coffee brewing, but slowly took a seat to join them. Would it be autoimmune, or maybe some kid with a penchant for animal abuse? Maybe this time it would be the illustrious lupus.

Chest pain Hallucinations

Squeak, squeak, squeak. With any luck, this would be over quickly, Chase hoped, pulling a file and flicking through the pages. The few results there distracted him from the saliva building up on his tongue.

“Seems the patient wasn’t too forthcoming with having his blood taken,” commented Thirteen, leaning back in her chair.

The break from the hospital had done her good, Chase felt. Maybe he should have done the same. Gone back to Australia and enjoyed the summer heat.

The pen dropped, and with it began the usual lecture. For too many years, it had been the same routine. A patient that would need their help, insults from the doctor who should be treating them, a battery of tests at various levels of insanity, and then, most of the time, a result of going home alive.

“The patient claims to be a 36-year-old male,” started House, his cane tapping on the grey carpet beneath as if creating a tempo just to frustrate those around him. “Came in with an erratic heart rate after collapsing at a poker game. Says he saw God in the cards.” He peered over, checking for the eye roll that he knew Chase would give. It didn’t happen.

Foreman was quick to respond. “Sounds like a standard cardio case. Lack of oxygen cut off circulation, creating the visions. How’s this our problem?”

“Wait, claims to be?” Taub caught on.

“Someone’s listening for once. Patient is a big fat liar.”

There was the first insult from House’s lips. Chase knew it was the start, another reminder that everyone lies. Just as he’d done. His stomach turned at the memory. Or was it the hangover, he wondered? “Aren’t they all?” came mumbled cynicism.

“Takes one to know one.”

“House, can we not do this for once?” Foreman wanted them to move on quickly, Dibala’s unspoken death only just fading from people’s minds.

House still had his eyes pinned on Chase, watching as pages turned slowly, and information was taken in at a surface level.

Thirteen jumped in, sensing the tense shift in the mood. “Says here he was brought in showing signs of cyanosis. Could be vascular?”

The symptom was added to the board. More squeaking, which caused Chase to grit his teeth. It wouldn’t be much longer and then they’d be out of there. He’d be free from judgement.

“It also says he’s the CEO of a large company,” Taub retorted, looking satisfied with his conclusion. “Guy has lived in multiple states, and yet has no paper trail at all. He’s a con artist.”

“You get that just from a lack of steady address?”

“I get that from the fact the company doesn’t exist. Could be drug use. Long-term opioids or coke.”

Nodding in agreement, Foreman went to stand, glancing around for any arguments. “I’ll arrange a tox screen.”

Still House had not intervened, the team moving around him with hesitation. Thirteen grabbed her file from the desk, shrugging her shoulders at Taub as if to say no idea. “Guess me and Taub will try to get an EKG arranged.”

Chase wanted to move, wanted to suggest anything just to get out of House’s line of sight.

“Hm, sensitive to light,” came the knowing voice. “And I’m betting nauseous too?”

“A migraine,” Chase uttered back.

The others watched him. Of course, they had their concerns after what had happened. News had travelled fast of Cameron leaving him, of his spiral into booze and sleepless nights. He didn’t want, didn’t need their concern. He just needed to be left alone.

“A whiskey induced migraine.”

House was right as always, but then it wasn’t particularly difficult to know after they’d all been at the bar together. He just didn’t know how much longer had been spent there, how much more had continued to be knocked back as the hours had passed.

Chase decided to take a chance, a random idea that might lead to a diagnosis. “Parasites. Guy travels and could’ve picked something up.”

An acceptable answer, but a clear indicator of a struggling mindset.

“Alright.” There came no objections as the team left the room to carry out their investigations, only the following instruction with the subtle smirk. “Chase, get a proper history from the guy. You liars can read each other’s tells, right? Or is that gays?”

---

Damien Miller sat in the hospital bed, irritated by the stiff bedsheets that had accumulated around his bare legs. The nurses had insisted he be admitted and that the doctor he would see was the best, but instead he had found himself going through a similar intake procedure to when he had first arrived at the hospital.

“You got any ID with you, Mr Miller?” Chase asked dismissively, not in the mood for the usual runaround that these forms came with. Most likely not, he figured.

“Must’ve been in my jacket at the club.”

Of course. “Anyone we can call on your behalf? Wife? Partner?”

“Don’t bat that way,” came the insulted reply. “And no.”

Feigning interest in the machines, Chase lowered the clipboard. Anything to take his mind off the ache lurking behind his eyes. Damien looked well enough, a slight tan, most likely from a recent trip. His vitals appeared stable and there’d been no further signs of illness since he’d been admitted.

Making a note of the machine’s readings, Chase continued his half-hearted inquisition. “Says you’ve been travelling recently. Anywhere nice?”

“Florida. Had to visit the family.”

“That where you’re from originally?”

“Sure.”

Bullshit. All bullshit, as per usual. Why couldn’t they just tell the truth and make this easier for everyone? Tell the truth and have clear consciences. Not that difficult, right? He made a note, a relatively neat question mark next to each answer, a reminder for when the inconsistences started to appear. “Well, Mr Miller, we want to run some tests. Your heart rate has been a little unstable and we-”

“You want to keep me here and charge me out of the ass to keep your green card. Yeah, I get it.”

If Chase didn’t know better, he’d have guessed that Damien wasn’t exactly a born and bred American either. The accent was a little too forced, an odd lilt on some of the vowels. His eyes were too dark, similar to the thick tuft of hair presented. Possibly of Italian descent, but then again, what did it matter? Not like it was worth calling the guy out on it.

Biting his tongue, Chase continued the line of explanation. “An EKG to check your heart, blood tests. Just some minor things that won’t take long.”

“And if I refuse?”

Don’t sigh, don’t show your annoyance. “That’s fine. We either find a method that works for you, or you sign yourself out against medical advice. Your choice.”

He knew what a part of him hoped for. That the guy would get up and leave. A slippery slope indeed, since what had happened to Dibala. Would it still be murder if Chase let a sick patient leave? Would it haunt him in the same manner? He didn’t have a chance to find out as Thirteen and Taub entered the room; the guy giving a small nod that the EKG could take place.

A moment of silence, a moment too long to think. Just get the paperwork sorted from the quiet of an examination room. Lock the door and throw away the key.

---

Of course, the room Chase found was occupied. The auburn-haired woman perched on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging over the side, which she kicked lightly in the air out of boredom.

Straight away, he turned to leave, a mumbled apology and a hope to find another room that wouldn’t exacerbate his headache. He couldn’t deal with another patient taking the piss, and he certainly didn’t feel like making mindless small talk over an issue like a sore throat, or worse, an STD.

“Wait.”

Shit. She had a voice and one that wasn’t too grating. Chase pulled himself back around the door, a quiet hope that he wasn’t going to regret the decision. He was met with a pleasant, if tired, smile, her eyes almost lighting up on seeing him. Or was it the change caused by the shadows moving with the door? It must have been that. What worth was he right now to look at, after all?

“Steve Irwin, right?”

Not the question he’d been expecting. Possibly a psych patient waiting evaluation? “Sorry? I know who he is, but…”

She let out a short laugh, pushing her hair back with a finger. Cameron had only just left. This was just residual effects, a need to be wanted, to be loved. This woman is not happy to see you, Chase.

“No. Last night at the bar on Main. You were dressed as him.”

He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved. It meant he’d either done something bad to be remembered or something worse to be identified on sight. Had he slept with her? She’d not been there when he’d woken up. He’d definitely not bought her a drink.

“You were a bit of a mess when I served you. Good to see you’re still amongst the living.”

Was it? He stepped into the room, an attempt to stay professional and get whatever was happening over and done with. “Were you waiting for a doctor?”

“Just the nurse. Nothing important. You doing okay today?”

He didn’t want her concern but nodded, nonetheless, checking the file next to her. Maxine Taylor. DoB… Blood Type… Her hair fell over her brow again, catching his sight from the corner of his eye. The smile that curved upon her lips was soft, almost as if she were nervous to be showing it in public. Green eyes met his own as he glanced up from the papers, a look of sympathy, of warmth that he found himself caught in. She was talking, an accent he’d heard often enough in the seminary school, and yet he caught nothing of what she was saying to him.

The door opened behind him, the nurse apologising for interrupting. Shaking off the daze he’d found himself in, he fumbled for the pen in his pocket. Something, anything to get moving with. “I was just leaving.”

Pacing from the room came with the heavy thuds of his heartbeat, the uncertainty of what emotions he was feeling. It was too soon. Sex maybe, but nothing more. Only enough to drown in.

[horsetailcurlers2]

YET ANOTHER long and obnoxious stream of my thoughts while watching grey’s anatomy for the first time (season FIFTEEN, bc i’m actually not sick of these yet)

-i don’t like this whole “she’s not really your sister” thing. like, it’s played for comedic effect and teddy is clearly just hormonal and panicking so whatever but i don’t like that.

-i don’t want to rehash owen x amelia. yawn. nor do i want to rehash owen x teddy. yawner.

-i like that we’re getting a *little* deeper into helms crush on meredith and that it’s not just comic relief

-why are there no doctors above the age of 45 in this entire hospital besides richard? they’re all so pretty, but at what cost?

-something is going to happen to this pregnant nurse… there’s a lot of focus on her out of the blue

-i love that almost this entire intern class is at least mildly gay

-bailey is pissing me off

-ted mosby!!! he looks a little slovenly for a date tbh. not to sound judgmental but like, she’s all dressed up and he isn’t.

-this guy is way chiller than ted mosby. i like this for her. i hope it doesn’t turn out really bad but i know it probably will

-is it worth it to watch station 19?? i kind of don’t want to tbh

-i forgot teddy was in new york until her friend passed in 9/11. i’m imagining an au in which teddy and addison knew each other in NYC in the 90s bc i think they should’ve interacted more

-the undiagnosable stomach issue is so clearly this patient’s suspicious heirloom lunch pail. like, duh.

-okay well i was wrong about that and now i’m embarrassed that i predicted that with such smug sureness and authority.

-playing “chasing cars” in spanish for the día de los muertos episode is an interesting choice. i think i like it??

-nurse debbie!!!! it’s been a while

-okay nvm that is NOT nurse debbie. they just have the same bangs

-everyone gets to have a tumor on this show. YOU get a tumor! YOU get a tumor!! and YOU get a tumor!!!

-richard no :(

-RICHARD, NO >:(

-as much as i hate the owen/amelia dynamic, i really LOVE this whole amelia and betty thing

-i DO NOT like meredith/deluca

-the only relationship that doesn’t completely bore or frustrate me right now is alex/jo but even then, they’re just kind of there, yk?

-i love that meredith has one format of outfit that she likes and that works for her and she sticks to it. relatable AF.

-why didn’t miranda just have a conversation with ben before she sprung the separation on him? he would have been more than understanding i think

-i really like teddy and koracick actually

-i’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop with betty :(

-did they change out writers and/or show runners?? the writing feels… cheesier almost? or maybe just like the emotional beats are less earned? i mean it’s always been delightfully soapy but it’s just different these past couple of seasons and i can’t put my finger on it

-betty/britney’s mom is baby from dirty dancing?????!!!!!

-alex just straight up not being able to understand the scottish accents is so fucking funny.

-i love it when bokhee has lines

-“it’s a real fire!!” alex, gleefully and wrapped in a homemade knit scarf while indoors

-richards reaction to they/them pronouns is very interesting and i think it’s definitely an accurate portrayal of how even the generally accepting and well meaning older people can sometimes struggle with that kind of stuff. like, he’s not trying to be ignorant or rude he’s just genuinely perplexed. “the world moves fast and i’m just trying to keep up”

-i SWEAR TO GOD if teddy gets back with owen instead of staying with tom i will start hitting things

-“you suffered for years bc of my brother so you should totally get together and move in with him”- megan hunt in a wig that’s almost as terrible as her advice

-nancy!!!

-the shepherd family dynamic is so interesting to me because we’ve heard about it from two different perspectives over the years (derek’s and things amelia has said mostly in PP) and what we’ve seen of them is mostly from derek and meredith’s perspective in which they seem nice if a bit overbearing.

-okay jeez kathleen is a piece of work. i’ve always liked nancy even though she is “mcbitchy”. i also can’t help but to think about how addison fit into all of this when she and derek were married lol.

-has amelia ever told her family about christopher?

-stop trying to push owen and teddy on me!!!! i hate it!!

-that is insurance fraud babe. is there not a way for them to do it pro bono or something??

-okay i can sense that teddy and owen is going to happen so i will not make any more notes about it bc all i have to say about it is some variation of “no! i hate it!”

-okay i lied because the way teddy is going about it makes me deeply upset. poor tom. also “he makes me laugh and feel safe but i don’t feel rage or passion or ecstasy” ????? i should hope you don’t feel rage??? owen hunt makes me enraged too but that doesn’t mean i want to kiss him on the mouth!!! jesus christ. just fuck tom i guess, right?

-WOAH. i was not vibing with merluca but he’s willing to go to prison for her??!!!

-there’s no way they’re really fired . meredith owns a good chunk of the hospital still, right??? not to mention there’s maybe three characters on this show that *haven’t* committed crimes/major ethical violations.

-i’ve been beefing with jackson for a few seasons now tbh

[petri808]

Day 7 @flufftober “fairy lights” Twiyor family AU drabble, Modern AU not canon

It’s not uncommon by the time children reach their teenage years for them to start preferring to hang out with friends over family time. But there is one thing that Anya had not grown out of yet, a special family outing they did each June when the fire flies came around.

They’d pack up a bunch of food and a big ‘ole blanket to relax on, then head over to a large park with a stream running through at sunset located far outside of the city. The air at that time of year was always a comfortable warmth, with little chance of rain, and clear open skies. Sort of the calm before the later summer storms rolled in.

They’d set up their blanket on a shorter patch of wild grasses to watch the sun setting while they eat dinner. An electric lantern provided a mellow glow. Conversations are light as each talk about their day or other topics. Loid talked about a new patient at the hospital he was helping and Yor about a new job she’d be starting in a week. It’s the first she’s had since they adopted their daughter.

Anya chattered about a movie her and her friends has seen the previous day, but mostly about school. At Eden Academy, the academics are brutally competitive, but were tolerable with her best friend, Becky Blackbell, at her side. Anya was also excited about it being her last term of 3rd year middle school. The two girls were looking forward to moving onto high school together along with the proms and annual excursions they’ll be taking.

“We’re supposed to go to Somisomi tomorrow for ice cream,” Anya told her parents. “Becky’s gonna pick me up at 11.”

“You sure?” Yor questioned. “I can drop you off.”

“Nah, it’s okay mom. Their driver—,” Anya sat up from laying on her back. “Sweet! The fire bugs are starting!”

Yor and Loid sat up as well. “So, they are.”

Anya laid back down with her head resting on her arms behind her head. “I wonder why they only come out during summer here?”

“Well,” Loid began, “in Japan some say they’re the ancestors returning to this world.“

“For Obon season?” Anya asked.

“Yeah.” Loid confirmed. “It’s a Shinto belief.”

“But there’s other folklore,” Yor added. “Didn’t I tell you about the fairy lights when you were little?”

Anya’s face scrunched as she thought hard. “Mmm, I don’t remember very well.”

Yor leaned back on her hand while pointing at a few fire bugs gently floating around the family. “In ancient times, people thought fire bugs were ethereal creatures, like fairies and the light they emit carried messages of love.”

“Fairy light,” Anya giggled. “I guess that makes sense.”

“There’s a story,” Yor continued, “of a fire fly princess who proclaimed they would marry the first suitor who could bring them fire. So, prince, after prince from creature kingdoms all throughout the lands tried to procure fire to win her hand, but all die in the process. This also lead to some equating fire flies as the carriers of a star-crossed lovers wishes. Finally, a fire fly prince from a nearby kingdom heard of the princesses proclamation and declared that he will win her hand. So, he marches over heading a battalion of soldiers, shining bright in all their lighted glory. The princess is so delighted to have found the one to bring her such a marvelous flame that they marry and live happily ever after.”

“Aww,” Anya rolls onto her side to face her parents. “That’s so sweet even though all those other princes were dumb to die for a princess.”

“I don’t know,” Loid teased and poked Yor’s shoulder. “I’d die for your mom.”

“Loid!” Yor blushed and slapped his shoulder back in jest.

“Why am I not surprised.” Anya laughed, then tapped her chin. “Maybe I’ll use this on Damian, tell him to bring me a flame to win my hand.”

“You’ll likely scare him away instead,” Loid teased. “That boy’s a bit wea…”

“Don’t!” Anya wagged a finger at her father, cutting him off knowing how he liked to tease her crush. “I know what you’re gonna say and I think—” Just as she’s about to defend Damian, a fire bug landed on finger, yet despite her shaking it doesn’t let go.

Yor chuckled, “Maybe Damian just sent you his message of love.”

[ferel6]

(Tldr: new research study, got my first 12 lead ekg 🥰)

Have a new research study that I'm going to participate in, but needed to go to an initial screening to make sure I qualified for the research (you know you need to start working out/eating better when they call you in for research because your BMI is over 30 😑)

Regardless, I am still VERY excited to be a part of it. They are testing Angiotensin, which is naturally created in our bodies, but they want to see if it will help with lowering blood pressure and spark metabolism in obese patients (that's me 😓)

The screening was a blast. Had to fast for 12 hours prior, got up in the morning and brought my wife and son with me to drop them off at the zoo for the day while I completed my screening. Long car ride, lots of time to get hype. Watching them eat breakfast only got me more excited (I wasn't really that hungry and the fact that I couldn't eat was just a reminder of the coming events).

I dropped the fam off at the zoo and made my way over to the familiar parking garage and began my walk over to the vascular center, past the main hospital entrance with patients and staff milling about, past the cancer center (feeling lucky that I was here for a different reason than those poor souls), and finally past the emergency room entrance, watching an EMS crew loading up an ambulance. I've always enjoyed this walk, getting the sounds and smells of the hospital, seeing all the staff everywhere in their scrubs. Anticipation mounts.

I got up to the Clinical Research floor and the study coordinator was already waiting for me. She greeted me like I was an old friend (I've done maybe 7 study sessions with them now, so I know the two main coordinators well, and I'm starting to recognize some of the techs) and we walked past our usual room, through a set of doors, and into a less lit hallway and back rooms I'd never been in. She explained there was another patient here for the study so we had to do the screening elsewhere.

As a note, I am VERY professional when it comes to these studies. While I do them primarily because of my fetish, in the moment I internalize all of that and quash it down hard to remain neutral and keep my vitals from going haywire and throwing off the research. But going through darkened hallways into secluded, partially lit rooms full of carts and tables and wires and tubes and trays and machines, just the coordinator and me, got my mind fantasizing something fierce 😬😈

Luckily, as with all studies, we needed to sit and talk through EVERYTHING they were going to do to me during our session, today and the next if my bloodwork came back acceptable. So I had plenty of time to temper myself while she explained.

The screening would include a DXA scan, full body composition. I'd also receive a full check up from a physician at the hospital and my first 12 lead EKG (!), which the physician would need to check over to make sure it looked good. Then a quick blood draw would round out the screening.

She explained the next visit would include two IVs, one in each arm, one for the infusion of saline or the drug they were testing (blinded) and the other for blood draws during the procedure. I'd have a 3 lead ekg to monitor heartrate, a BP cuff on my arm and a finometer on my finger and strapped around my wrist, a blood oxygen monitor clipped to my ear, blood flow sensors taped to my stomach, arm and leg, and a tent-like canopy over my head to capture my breathing. Unlike some of my other studies with them, she told me I could practically sleep through this one, as it is a LOT of sitting around during infusion and just listening to my breathing, so she said most of her patients literally take a nap 😅.

While all this talk would normally not allow me to relax my anticipation, I tried my best to return dialog, asking questions and getting the coordinator to open up about why they were testing certain things, what the blood draws were for, talking to her about the research I'd already done on the drug and it's effects, and hearing her thoughts on how the study was going. The longer we talked the more I could feel my heart slowing to a much more manageable rhythm 🤭

We finally got to it, hopping up and taking my shoes and socks off for height and weight, then straight over to the table for my first full fledged EKG!! As you can see on my channel here, I have a 5 lead patient monitor, and I've been to other studies where they used a 3 lead, but I've never had the pleasure of a full 12 lead reading before.

The coordinator dragged the machine over, more a printer with a keyboard than the brilliant colorful screen with the green line we all know and love. She already had the square medline electrodes attached to the leads so she set about hooking me up, a constant flow of conversation making me feel at ease and keeping me calm during something that in retrospect turned me on SO MUCH. I felt the cold sticky adhesive on my skin as she talked about how they would unfortunately pull on my hair coming off, if this had been a stress test she'd have to shave my chest because of all the sweat and movement, but it wasn't a big deal for a short resting EKG, how some of her older male patients would complain about the shave because they were going on cruises in a weeks time. Just a constant barrage of stories of her wiring up others just like me.

Once the leads were attached, she wrapped a BP cuff around my right arm and turned on a different monitor behind me, noting the beeping sound on it as the machine complaining that there was no temperature sensor hooked up, "But it broke a while ago, so we had to take it out and now it just yells at us all the time that there's none in there. But it's OK we won't have it on long, just going to take your blood pressure twice and I'll turn it back off again while your EKG is running. 138/85 a little high, it should come down, I'll run it again. Oop, EKGs printing, let's take a look. Oh looks great, but we'll still need to call the physician up to check it over, I'll text him now while I run the other blood pressure check. Ok, messaged, 133/86 better, better."

See what I mean? Constant stream of conversation. She's awesome. I would chime in from time to time, noting things like "oh that BP is a bit high for me" or whatnot, but mostly I just listened and enjoyed.

With my EKG readings printed off, she came back over, unstrapped the cuff from around my arm, unclipped the leads from the electrodes and wheeled the machine back to the corner. I thought maybe I could leave the stickies on my chest this time and have a bit of fun at home later and began to pull my shirt back down, but the coordinator reminded me of my imminent DXA scan and came back over to rip the patches from my chest.

We waited for a while longer, talking again of other patients, the study, what each of the tubes of blood would be used for during the procedure, until the physician finally arrived. He was young and tall, wearing those oh so lovely pale green scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck.

We fistbumped for cleanliness as he introduced himself, talked with the coordinator about what she needed from him, then looked at my EKG printout. He confirmed everything looked fantastic, noted my BP at the top and signed it. Then he turned to me and told me to hop back up on the exam table again so he could check me over.

He got out his stethoscope and began his inspection, asking me questions about my health or telling me to take a big breath and hold it.

Another note here: I am straight, but where my medical fetish is concerned professionals, even males, can REALLY get my heart racing, so I had to slam my breaks hard to not give anything away here. Id already had my BP taken and an EKG run and now a young, fit doctor listening closely to my heart. Man that was a tough one.

Done with his stethoscope, he threw it around his neck again, brisk hands checking the pulse in my neck, both my wrists, my ankles, my feet. All while asking if I took any medications or if I had had any health concerns lately.

We finished up and he was baffled by my perfectly healthy condition 😇. He told us he NEVER gets to examine healthy patients in his line of work and it was very refreshing. I apologized for not having something wrong with me, eliciting a chuckle from all of us in the room.

He signed off my paperwork again and we walked him out of the clinic on our way to the DXA scan. We talked the whole way, him asking if this was my first study (the coordinator cutting in "No he's one of our regulars!" 🥰) asking if I was close to the facility (told him I'm about two hours away, "Wow! That's far! Well thank you so much for the help with these studies!")

We parted ways and the coordinator led me to a tiny room with a bed and a scanner over top of it. I changed into shorts and laid on the bed while she got the program under way. 7 minutes of lying stock still while the bed moved me around, taking the whole composition of my body (it's a very light x-ray). She printed an extra copy of my body comp (if you ever need motivation to get fit...go get a DXA. It is the most unflattering picture ever).

Then we went back to our room and she had me hop up on the bed again for the final thing: a blood draw. She told me it'd be quick and mostly painless, as she only needed two vials and was just using a butterfly needle.

A pro as always, strapped a tourniquet around my arm, cold alcohol wipe, a quick flash and her stream of conversation started back up as she pushed on my bicep to get the blood flowing through the tubes.

She wrapped my arm up and sent me on my way with my packets of paperwork.

The whole day was over in like an hour and a half, but was just so....chill. So relaxed. I'll update again on how my study goes once I go through that date, but I was just so excited to be examined, poked, prodded, carefully scrutinized again. And for my first ever full EKG.

These will always be long winded posts cause I need to get my feelings out, decompress. Feel free to message me to talk about similar experiences or if you have questions. Ya know...if you read this far 😅. I love talking to people about these feelings!

[crispysoupwonderland]

But We're the Same, Darling: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

some nsfw, art by breadstick

cw: mental hospital setting, mistreatment of mentally ill, non-con

Mar awoke to the nurses screeching like vultures. Their eyes were hazy and they had to scratch them to get them to focus. They looked at the other bed and saw that Cassandra was already gone. Their room had a small window that only let a little bit of sunlight in, Mar hadn’t noticed how dark the whole place was until today.

 They sat in the bed with its thin mattress and tissue like sheets. They curled themselves inward, tucking their knees under their chin. When were they going to leave this place? Would they ever leave this place? Mar had things to do in life, go to school, get a job…get a wife maybe. Society wasn’t accepting of homosexuality, but Mar always dreamed of running away to somewhere and living a quiet life with a wife. They started to daydream…coming home to a girl…hugging her…kissing her… 

KNOCK KNOCK. 

Mar’s daydreams were interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door. 

“Um…hello?” Mar shifted in the bed towards the door. 

A nurse opened the door and poked her head in. 

“Dr. Sceleratus would like to see you for an introductory meeting. Get up and follow me” she said. 

Mar slowly got out of bed and walked over to the nurse. The pair walked down the twisting corridors, filled with lost souls in off-white hospital gowns. Mar followed slowly behind the nurse, not eager to talk to a doctor. 

The two finally reach a large door with a gold plaque reading Dr. Sceleratus, Head Psychiatrist. The nurse knocked on the door. The clack of dress shoes on wood approaching the door sounded off. The door creaked open just enough for the Doctor to poke his face out. He looked blankly at the nurse but slowly swept his eyes over to Mar. His eyes narrowed and a twisted smile formed on his lips. 

“Come in now” he stepped to the side and held his arm out towards the room. Shutting the door quickly behind them. 

Mar stepped into the office and looked around. The room featured a large desk with a model of a human brain sitting on it. There was a bookshelf filled with textbooks and medical instruments. There was even what seemed to be an examination table. Mar stood awkwardly in front of the desk, fidgeting with the hem of the gown they wore. 

The doctor approached slowly from behind. Mar could hear each footstep getting closer and then suddenly the feeling of hands on their shoulders. They jumped in fear. 

The doctor chuckled at their apparent fear and ran his hands down Mar’s arms and then walked to be in front of them. 

“Don’t be scared darling, I’m an expert of the human mind, I can tell when you're afraid. Go on and sit on the examination table for me.” He gestured over to the metal structure. 

Mar slowly obeyed and sat down on the table, their legs dangling over the edge. 

“As you know, I never got to do my intake examination on you yesterday due to all…the excitement. It's something we need to do for all patients, to maintain the general health of all of our patients and to get more information on what we’re treating” he said while walking towards the table.

 “So… tell me, what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?” he asked with a sly smile which seemed to expose a pair of sharp teeth. He pressed himself against the table's edge, his hands gripping the table on either side of Mar. “I’d really like to know…” he said, his eyes moving down towards Mar’s lips. 

Mars quickly moved backwards on the table and looked at the floor, staying silent. Dr.S reached out and grabbed their chin, gently forcing Mar to look back at him. 

“Here, I know you might be nervous, so I'll give you a reason to trust me.” He backed away from the table. His lab coat dropped to the floor, and he slowly undid his tie and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. 

Mar’s stomach dropped in fear. They slammed their eyes closed. “No, please…oh god”

“Hey look” the doctor's voice whispered. Mar opened one eye tentatively, and then the other. The doctor stood in front of them with a soft smile, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loosened. But to Mar’s surprise, a familiar sight greeted their eyes, bandages binding a chest. 

Mar’s mouth opened slightly in confusion, “You’re not a man?”. 

“No dear, that's my dirty little secret. No one would ever let a woman become head psychiatrist now would they? So this is how I've gotten where I am today, masquerading as a man. It’s not particularly difficult either. My nature has always drifted towards androgyny. However, the one thing about me that really does align with the traditional male sex is my desire for women and pretty things like you.”

“You’re a homosexual too?” Mar asked with a quiver in their voice, this was all so overwhelming. Their fingers picked at their lips. 

“I told you we have so much in common!” Dr. S shouted with a huge smile, arms raised in the air. “And now that you know this secret about me, you can trust me with your own. Its mutually assured destruction! If I were ever to tell anyone your secrets, why, you’d be able to turn right around and tell mine.” 

Dr. S sauntered closer. 

“So now, tell me, when did you first find yourself with these homosexual���urges” the doctor's eyes lit up when she growled the last word.

Mar blushed in embarrassment. They quietly began to speak. 

“Well, I've always liked girls, ever since I can remember. I guess I’ve had crushes on girls in some of my classes in school and work”. The image of Cassandra flashed in Mars’s mind but they continued. 

“It's natural to me even though society seems to think otherwise. There's nothing wrong with being a homosexual, a lesbian, I'm healthy! There's nothing anyone can do to change me, you get that right? You won't try to change me will you?” Mar looked up hopefully at Dr. S. 

“Get up,” Dr.S said, her face darkening. 

Mar got up from the examination table, confused, and stood with their back to the wall. 

Dr.S rushed over to them and grabbed their wrists, pinning them against the wall. 

Mar’s eyes widened in shock. Dr.S was taller than them, looming over their body. Her hair covered her eyes but her mouth hung open in a smile. Mars squirmed in fear, but Dr.S was strong and easily held them in place. The doctor let out a laugh. 

“Now dear, don't get the wrong idea. My number one priority is to heal the sick. Homosexuality is a disorder, and you seem to have a very extreme case. You're going to need extensive treatment from only the best, me.”

Sceleratus’s eyes rolled over Mars's body, her breathing quickened. 

“And know that if you ever let any of my secrets slip, I'll never be able to cure you, and you'll never get to leave. Now be good for the doctor dear…”

She leaned towards Mar’s, like a vampire about to bite her victim. Her lips almost touched Mars’s when a knock was heard at the door. 

Dr.S jumped in shock, the seductive look on her face immediately turning to one of concern. She quickly let go of their wrists and ran to put on her lab coat. 

“Coming!” 

She shouted in a cheery voice, messily slipping on her sleeves to her long white coat. She jogged over to open the door but stopped herself. She turned around and with a terrifying smile, put her finger over her lips and then slid her thumb along her neck, finishing the gesture by pointing at Mar. She yanked open the door, poking her head out again like before. 

Mar heard the doctor talking in a hushed voice with whoever was outside and then the nervous laughter of the doctor. The door closed and Sceleratus whipped around and began to re-tie her tie. She had forgotten to straighten it. 

She laughed nervously, “opps, don't want the nurse to think I'm in here foolin’ around with you now would we?”

“Well, unfortunately, our time for this morning is up, that was the nurse coming to collect you.”

Mar breathed a sigh of relief and scampered towards the door, making a wide arch around the doctor. 

Without turning around, Sceleratus chirped “But don't worry darling, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow for your first treatment.”

[hawkp]

Keep a Light on For Me, Blue Moon !!

GIRL YOU CHOSE BOTH HOULIHAWK FICS. I DIDN’T TAG THE OTHER JUST TO SEE IF YOU CHOSE IT SKSKSKSKSKSKSK our Houlihawk discourse is *chefs kiss* and definitely feeds my writing.

Keep a Light on for Me

Description: With the last batch of patients sent to Seoul, the 4077th M*A*S*H was officially off of active duty. It’s their last night there, and with his mind spinning from fear for what his future holds, Hawkeye seeks comfort from a friend.

“She’d started down his neck, soft kisses making him hot. He closed his eyes, his head felt like television static, black flecks of pain and white burning passion. He wanted this, he really did, but he needed something else.”

I actually wrote half of this planned one-shot in Blue Moon but the vibes were off compared to what I was going for. I might just push myself to get it done tonight.

Blue Moon

Description: One thing that he loved about being home was the music. Elvis especially. “What a kid!” He’d told Margaret. She’d smiled at him with a curious look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

“Beej,

I owe you fifty bucks.

I’m taking that position at Boston General. Charles is, much to my surprise, taking it better than I thought he would. My guess is that he’s finally getting some after his bone-dry luck back in K in our fraternity days. I couldn’t imagine getting as drunk as we did back then now. Haven’t had a drop of gin in the states! Isn’t that crazy? I’ll go for a good ol’ Pabst now and then though. They sell that over in California? What do you drink now? Do you drink? I miss drinking with you.

Now Margaret on the other hand is a bit of a puzzle. She’s been perfectly nice: same spunk, same sternness but she’s…different? I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe she changed her hair. I’ll ask her after the weekend.

Give my best to Peg and Erin. Let me know Erin’s bedtime so I don’t miss my earful. If I reach you before I start at the hospital, I’ll ask you then.

Signing Off,

Hawk

P.S. When’s Peg’s birthday?”

I actually think I spoke to you about this one! It’s a slow burn, state-side Houlihawk that starts with Hawkeye and B.J. writing letters to each other. The plan is to go from this to daily Boston General life (basically Margaret retired from the military after the war and Charles got her the job and then Hawkeye shows up and chaos ensues haha) and I also want to write a ‘coming-out’ little bit to honor the late and great DOS. Then stuff really picks up when they decide to go to a 4077th reunion at SOMEBODY’S wedding and Hawkeye/Margaret decide to drive there because Margaret has never driven down the East coast. And more and more and more but I’m a slow writer haha. The two first letters are posted on my AO3 already!

Anyone who sees this, PLEASE bully me to write on my AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpthawkp/pseuds/cpthawkp or my inbox here on tumblr. Thanks!