#best was when an attending tried to force someone to get a procedure

[justletmeon12]

My personal least-favorite concept in "medicine" (psychiatry, which I refuse to consider real medicine) is "insight."

It goes something like this:

If they agree with you that they need "help," they're getting better

If they disagree, that means that they're sick and need to be treated against their will

It's just such a blatant attempt to undermine consent that it has no equivalent in medicine and is omnipresent in psych.

tired of medication positivity posts that assume everyone has a positive relationship with medication

here’s to people who don’t take medication that their doctors want them to take. here’s to people who get marked noncompliant. here’s to people who get sectioned or hospitalized bc they won’t take their meds. here’s to people who self-medicate w nonprescription drugs. here’s to the people in withdrawal. here’s to the people who would rather deal with their symptoms than medication side effects. here’s to the “treatment-resistant” people who have never found medication that helps at all. here’s to the people who are only on meds nonconsensually. here’s to people who refuse meds for “irrational” or “stupid” reasons. here’s to people for whom taking meds is a trauma trigger. here’s to people who are disabled from past medications. here’s to people who are constantly being pressured into taking meds they don’t want and having to defend their “no” over and over again

yes, lots of people need their meds. yes, meds can be important. but don’t forget us

fuck everyone who calls us anti-science or anti-recovery. who says we are hurting other ppl by talking about our choices. bodily autonomy includes the right to say NO. even to medical treatment.

[fibfoolingart]

i swear this was just supposed to be some fun aesthetic swap doodles, but then i started thinking about The Implications and now i have a wholeass story behind this au lol

any world where grace chasity isn’t a horny, homicidal prude, we lose the original plot, so this au would revolve more around the church of the starry children then max jägerman lol

solomon decides the best way to wield power in hatchetfield is through religion instead of government and he unites all the tiny denominational churches into his church, becoming the pastor (happening around the same time steph starts middle school.)

it works. almost everyone attends solomon’s church, and it becomes a required social event for anyone who’s anyone in hatchetfield.

but it’s all a manipulation for bigger purposes as solomon slowly incorporates text from the black book, pushing the church into culty territory.

as the preacher’s kid, steph is under constant scrutiny. she might have wanted to rebel as a kid, but the wrath of god is a much bigger threat than just breaking her phone and solomon uses fear and guilt to keep her in line, turning her into a model of godly behavior (at least on the surface).

the chasitys refuse to join solomon’s church, but their small congregation shuts down when there aren’t enough people left. 

grace’s parents encourage grace to pour all her free time into individual bible study to make up for the lack of church, church activities, and church outings, but grace starts treating the bible like a textbook instead of a spiritual guide.

without structured church activities, her obsession with rules and procedures shifts to the school system

grace unknowingly separates herself from spirituality when her bible obsession becomes academic. she’s still a christian, but she’s more likely to corner you in the library to infodump about angelic hierarchies than preach about purity.

travis coulson was ruth’s older cousin. it freaked her the hell out that someone could be bullied that bad that they have to transfer and their entire life is erased for a dumbass lie that everyone believes. so ruth vows that she and her friends will never be outcasts (or timberwolves) and drags pete and richie into a "popularity pact" in fifth grade, forcing them to get cool or else.

the trio spends their summer doing research and practicing social skills. (they basically spend their time practicing masking autism and refining their ability to camouflage.)

the trio starts researching what’s cool. their findings? football players, student council presidents, and school play leads are the pinnacle of popularity. so, they throw themselves into middle school tryouts and campaigns to fit these roles:

richie tries out for football but ends up as the mascot.

ruth auditions for the lead in the school play but gets relegated to lighting tech.

pete campaigns for class president but only gets elected secretary.

instead of quitting there, they regroup and try again in high school:

richie uses the athleticism he got as a mascot to land him a spot on the swim team.

ruth works her way up to the the student/assistant director for the school plays

pete works his way up the student council ranks, eventually becoming class president.

the trio is finally just cool enough that their quirks get rebranded as "quirky-cool" instead of "weird." they still bond over star wars and anime in secret, but their popularity ensures they’re never targets again.

[roosterforme]

Airplane Mode Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley finds himself on a commercial flight with the cutest flight attendant in the world, he can't keep himself from flirting with you.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, swearing

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is part 1 of 2! Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun!

Bradley was on his fourth deployment of the year, and it was only September. As he packed his flight suits and uniforms, he checked his boarding pass for the flight from San Diego International to Tokyo. His flight left in just three hours, so he needed to move.

The only way Bradley took commercial flights was begrudgingly. He much preferred his own Super Hornet, with his name emblazoned on the side, or his vintage Bronco. Nothing else felt as comfortable, as personal. But really, nothing was worse than a commercial airline.

He would probably have to sit next to someone who wanted to chat for the twelve hour flight. Or worse, get assigned the middle seat. But there wasn't really any other way to get him out into the western Pacific and onto the deck of the USS Nimitz in time for his surprise assignment. 

"God bless America," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he stuffed some clean underwear and his toothbrush into his bag. Then he locked up his house, unsure about when he would be back, and headed out in the Bronco.

Thankfully, his military credentials got him through the long security lines quickly, because he did not leave himself with very much time. He checked in with the airline and narrowed his eyes skeptically at the man working behind the desk.

"You've been upgraded to first class," the man told him.

"That seems suspicious," Bradley replied, earning a chuckle. "No, really. The Navy usually gives me the middle seat in the last row, right behind a screaming child. What gives?"

"Hmm, well, this flight is only at half capacity since it's a brand new itinerary. So we upgraded you, another military officer, and an elderly customer."

"And the screaming child?"

"Not upgraded that I know of, sir." 

"Thanks," Bradley replied with a nod as he scanned his boarding pass and made his way to first class. He had the window seat in the front row, so he stowed his carry-on bag and made himself comfortable while the other passengers took their seats. 

He could hear soft laughter coming from the curtained off area next to the cockpit, and a second later he was looking at a beautiful woman. 

"Welcome aboard, sir," you told him with a smile. "Can I get you anything before we take off?" 

Bradley swallowed hard and tried his best not to stare. "Uh, I'm fine," he managed to tell you. "Just....fine." 

"Right. Well, let me know if you need anything." 

You turned to greet another passenger, and Bradley found himself sitting up straighter as he blurted out, "Your name?"

You turned back to him and leaned his way. "Pardon?"

He met your eyes, and he grinned. "I need your name. You know, just in case I think of something you can get for me."

Your smile was more of a smirk this time, but you licked your perfect lips and told him what he wanted to know. Bradley tested your name out, and your smirk grew. "Yep. That's a good name."

You shook your head a bit. "You should get buckled in. I'll go over the exit row safety procedures with you in a few minutes."

"I can't wait," Bradley replied, and this time, when you turned away from him, he couldn't help himself. He looked at your body for a few seconds until he forced himself to face the front of the aircraft. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. This was going to be a long flight. 

He was lonely. It had been ages since he had dated anyone and quite awhile since he'd met a woman he even wanted to sleep with. That had to be why he was sweating a little bit right now.

Bradley buckled his seatbelt and tried not to watch you out of the corner of his eye. The sway of your hips when you walked was mesmerizing, as was the soft lilt of your voice. He listened to you charm every single person seated in first class, and he was already craving your attention again. 

When you came to a stop in front of him a moment later, he let his eyes travel from your sensible shoes up your bare legs, over your cute uniform dress, and up to your face. "Ready for your safety briefing?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said, his voice ridiculously needy to his own ears. 

You just smiled and gestured toward the handle to Bradley's right. "You are seated in my exit row. Can you verbally confirm for me that you are able and willing to help me in the event of an emergency?" 

"Definitely. I'd be happy to help you."

"Can you push, pull or lift at least fifty pounds?" you asked, your eyes taking in the bulge of his biceps and his broad chest. 

Bradley smirked and watched you lick your lips. "Sure can."

You pressed your lips together and eyed him briefly. "I don't know... are you sure you're strong enough to open the door?" Your voice was teasing, and Bradley swallowed hard as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. 

"I'm strong enough to do anything you might want or need."

Bradley's grin grew as he watched your face light up, and the cutest giggle escaped your lips. "I'll keep that in mind," you told him with a nod before turning and disappearing behind that damned curtain. 

He rubbed his hands over his face before putting his phone into airplane mode. Flirting with you was pointless. He really shouldn't be doing it. But where the hell were the women who looked and sounded like you when he wanted to go on a date? Apparently they were thirty six thousand feet in the air, wearing tight navy blue dresses and ugly loafers. 

Bradley would do anything to be able to run into you at the Hard Deck. You probably didn't even live in San Diego though. And odds were good you were married or something. So he just settled back in his seat and watched the setting sun through the open window sash. Pretty soon he would be landing in Tokyo, he'd never see you again, and you would forget all about the guy who asked for your name and looked at your loafers.

Then, as if conjured by his imagination, you were standing in front of him again. This time you were folding down the seat that was used by flight attendants during takeoffs and landings. Bradley watched every move you made as you sat down facing him, your knees brushing against his as you settled into the seat.

"Sorry," you told him softly. Your perfect lips parted again before you added, "You must be tall. I don't usually have this problem." You were trying to scoot yourself back further in your uncomfortable looking seat, keeping yourself from touching him again as you buckled in. 

"I don't mind," he replied softly, repositioning his legs so that both of your knees were between his. 

Your eyes went a little wide as you whispered, "Okay," before clearing your throat. Bradley saw you glance at his thighs as he stretched his legs out a bit more comfortably, and then you immediately turned to look out the window as the pilot started to taxi toward the runway. 

The warm San Diego sunset had your skin bathed in orange light, making you look impossibly pretty, and Bradley was instantly regretting not bringing a book with him. No way he'd make it twelve hours in close proximity to you without embarrassing himself. 

"How tall are you?" you suddenly asked him.

He shrugged. "About six foot one inch, I guess."

"I'm sorry, I should have had you move to the aisle seat since it's empty. It's too late now, since we're about to take off, but you can move over later so we don't have this problem all night long."

Bradley shrugged again. "I wouldn't call it a problem. More like an added perk. I thought perhaps getting to sit by you was part of the upgrade to first class."

You kept eye contact with him but narrowed your eyes, and Bradley squirmed a bit in his seat. "You're flirting with me."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm trying. Based on your response, I must be doing a shitty job."

After examining his face for a few seconds, you sighed and looked out the window again. "No, you're doing alright. But I'm not allowed to flirt back. Whatever your name is."

"Bradley," he told you, holding out his hand. After you shook it, he said, "How about I do all the flirting, and you just pretend you're completely immune to me. Meanwhile, inside, you're totally falling head over heels."

You tried to hide your smile as the plane left the ground, and the jolt of excitement in Bradley's belly rivaled even the force of gravity. 

You didn't answer him, and you didn't look at him again, but Bradley felt your right knee bump against his leg as the plane gained altitude, and he heard you sigh. 

"Can you at least tell me if you'd flirt with me if I met you at a bar or something?" he asked after a while. 

You finally met his eyes just as the fasten seatbelt light was turned off, and you started to unbuckle your harness. 

"I'm afraid the answer to that question might sound as if I'm flirting with you." 

Bradley leaned forward as you stood and started turning away from him. "So is that a yes?"

You turned and looked at him over your shoulder, and you nodded. 

Bradley gaped at you, and he had to fight the urge to follow you behind the curtain this time.

"Fuck." He was absolutely squirming in his seat now. He could hear you and see your shoes, but you didn't emerge again for a while. And you didn't look at him as you took the dinner orders for everyone else in first class, leaving him for last.

Bradley told you what he wanted to eat, speaking slowly so he had time to look at you looking at him. 

"And would you like a drink? Maybe a cocktail or a beer? A glass of wine?"

As Bradley was just about to respond, you smirked at him. "You don't drink wine, do you?" you asked him.

"No, actually." He gave you a puzzled look.

You smiled at him. "I can guess what people are going to order with a scary level of accuracy. You like beer, specifically European imports. Stella? Maybe Heineken? And I think you also enjoy an occasional glass of scotch, neat. But you're also quite fond of "girly" cocktails, and you're not afraid to order them when you go out." 

"Holy. Shit."

You laughed at his response, and Bradley wanted to pull you down against him, listen to that laughter even closer. 

"Want me to make you a cosmopolitan?" you asked with a grin that had him practically stuttering. 

"Please." He managed to say that one word without too much trouble. You just nodded and strolled away from him again.

Bradley sat, impatiently waiting for you to reappear as he messed with his hair. He was really wishing he had taken more time getting ready. He was wearing faded jeans and a black tee shirt, cursing himself for looking like he dressed with no effort at all. 

He was absolutely going to try to get your number or give you his, and if he was going to get shot down, he liked to know he had at least put his best foot forward. 

You reemerged with a drink tray, and you took his breath away. He watched while you served everyone else, bringing him his martini glass filled with pink liquid last. 

"And a cosmo for you." 

Bradley took the drink and set it down on his tray table after taking a sip. "Delicious. Even better than my friend Natasha makes, and hers are great." 

You tucked your hands behind your back and asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No. I am one hundred percent single," he told you immediately. "Maybe even more than that." 

The grin returned to your face, and Bradley was feeling ridiculously excited. 

"I'll bring your dinner out shortly."

"Wait, are you?" he asked, trying to keep your attention before you vanished again. "Are you single?"

You ignored him completely now, but you were still smiling. And you dropped off his dinner tray with nothing more than, "Enjoy your meal." So he ate his food and then you collected his tray and then he waited. 

He was pretty sure you'd have to return to your little fold down seat at some point during the evening. He was also pretty sure you'd have to stay awake all night. His plan was to wait you out. Beyond that he had no clue what he should do. 

But it was getting late now, and you were still somewhere up behind that curtain. He'd long ago finished his drink, and he had the brilliant idea to ask you for another one. He pressed the button to call for you, and then you were there.

"What can I do for you?"

He smiled so hard. "Are you telling me that anytime I push that little white button, you'll appear?" 

You had to hide your laughter behind your hand. "Yes. That's literally my job."

He shook his head slowly. "You've given me too much power. Will you make me another cosmopolitan?"

"Of course."

And when you brought him a second pink drink a few minutes later, he asked, "Are you allowed to sit with me again? In your little fold down seat?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, pretty soon I'll be sitting down for a while. You can move to the aisle seat whenever you want." 

But Bradley didn't move. He wanted to be as close to you as he possibly could. He just didn't realize that you might find that creepy or annoying until you were headed for your folding seat. 

"You're not moving?" you asked softly, just as the captain dimmed the overhead lights.

"I'm sorry, I can move so you have more room," he said, scrambling to unbuckle his safety belt. God, now he looked like a fucking creep. 

But you just shrugged at him. "You can stay in the window seat if you want. If you don't mind me bumping you."

Then you folded the seat down once more and took a seat before he could move. So he buckled himself in again, and let you get settled so that your knees were tucked neatly between his long legs. 

Just as you were starting to buckle your harness, the captain flew through some turbulence, and Bradley felt your hands come to rest on his thighs as you were bumped out of your seat. 

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, pulling your hands away like you had been burned. "I didn't mean to."

Bradley certainly didn't mind. He'd be more than happy to have your hands all over him. But of course he wasn't about to voice that idea.

"It's okay," he promised, meeting your eyes in the dim light. Another turbulent patch had you reaching for him again, but once you had your harness clasped closed, you wouldn't even look at him again.

"Sorry it's so turbulent," you managed to say, looking across the aisle at another passenger who had fallen asleep. "Usually I have someone losing their mind when it gets like this. But you seem very relaxed."

Bradley shifted in his seat, and his leg bumped yours. "I should hope so. I'm a pilot."

Your eyes snapped back to meet his. "Really? Which airline?"

Bradley just chuckled. "US Naval aviator. Top Gun."

"Oh," you said with a soft laugh. "I should have known. All you guys have a certain look."

Bradley licked his lips and crossed his arms. "What kind of look?"

You cradled your face in your palms. "Pretend I never mentioned it."

He shook his head. "I don't like pretending."

Sighing, you told him, "Aviators are always... big... strong looking. And overly confident."

"Huh," Bradley grunted. He supposed if you flew a San Diego route, you must see your fair share of aviators. You must also get hit on by most of them. God, you were beautiful.

"You're not like most of them, though," you added quickly. "Occasionally I have to excuse myself if they get crude."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "Crude?"

You shrugged again, checking to see if anyone had pushed their call button. "Yeah... it happens sometimes." 

"I don't like the sound of that," Bradley growled. 

But you just laughed lightly. "What are you planning to do about it? Follow me back and forth between San Diego and Tokyo and flex your muscles every time someone calls me baby or touches my butt?"

"Shit," Bradley whispered. "That really happens?" This information was swirling around his mind, and it made him feel sick. You were just doing your job; you didn't deserve to be harassed by aviators or anyone else. 

"You'd be surprised." Another bump of turbulence had your leg rubbing against his. 

Eventually Bradley whispered, "I would, you know."

You just looked at him for a few seconds. "You would what?"

Bradley smiled at you, and your lips curled into an involuntary smile as well. "Fly back and forth. Between San Diego and Tokyo. Flex my muscles and tell the assholes to leave you alone."

As you bit your knuckle to try to stifle your laughter, Bradley could practically feel how good it would be to have your teeth grazing his flesh. But the idea that you sometimes had guys giving you unwelcome touches had him ready to go through the roof. 

Then his mind shifted back to something you said. You flew from San Diego to Tokyo all the time. 

"Do you live in San Diego?" he asked quickly, and you bit your lip a little nervously, like you didn't want to answer him. 

But you searched his face in the darkness and finally said, "Yeah. I do."

Bradley's heart was thudding in his chest. He didn't want to press his luck. 

"What has you flying commercial to Tokyo? You must hate this! Are you being deployed?" you asked, drawing his attention to your words.

"Yeah. Hopefully a very short one. It's a special assignment."

Your smirk was back, even though he could barely see it in the dark. "Top Gun. Special assignment. First class upgrade. Sounds very exciting."

Bradley chuckled. "Listen, the best part of this whole thing was getting to sit with you between my legs.... Oh, God. Oh, no! I didn't mean it like that!" 

What the fuck had he just said?!

Bradley was frozen in panic with his hands halfway to his face, but you were laughing hysterically now. He watched you press your lips together to try to keep quiet as you shook with laughter. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that! I just...I'm really enjoying sitting here with you, that's all!" 

You waved your hand in the air and managed to say, "It's okay, Bradley. Oh, you look completely mortified!"

"I am completely mortified. You'll never let me have your phone number now!"

Then you smiled at him, but your eyes looked sad. "I can't go giving my phone number out to all you Top Gun guys."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair. "Shit."

You sighed and tapped his knee with your fingers until he was looking at you again. Bradley let his hand settle just above his knee, and he wanted to unbuckle himself and reach for you when your fingers touched his.

"When do you fly back?" you asked quietly

"Unsure," he replied. "No return ticket yet."

"Hm," you hummed softly. You ran your fingertips along his, and he'd had just about as much as he could handle.

"Please, tell me your schedule. Something. Anything. I need to see you again."

You were quiet for so long, Bradley let the back of his head hit the headrest. You'd withdrawn your hand from his body, and he was so disappointed. 

"I usually fly overnights on the way back to San Diego as well."

He leaned closer to you again. "Which days?"

"It varies," you said, glancing across the aisle and undoing your harness. "But I'd like it if you were on my flight again." You stood to take care of a different passenger, and Bradley's eyes tracked you in the darkness. 

He was done for. Over the next several hours, he got to feel your body bump his every time you got in or out of your seat. He could smell your perfume or shampoo whenever you glided past him. He strained to hear every word that you spoke, whether to him or another passenger. But when you were seated in your seat, you and he exchanged little stories and flirtations. 

One time he even reached across and folded the seat down for you to sit. "Handsome and mannerly," you muttered as you buckled in. 

"I thought you told me you weren't allowed to flirt back," he commented as the sky was starting to lighten outside his window. 

You met his eyes and grinned. "A girl can only take so much."

"Are you single? You never told me. Please don't devastate me right now," his voice took on a teasing, pleading tone that made you laugh again.

"Yeah. I'm single. It's impossible to date with this job, honestly."

Bradley's heart soared like the airplane he was sitting in. You lived in San Diego. You were single. You were sexy and appealing. 

"Guys always think I'm going to cheat on them. But you want to know what I actually do in my hotel room on my overnights in Tokyo?" 

"Tell me."

"I eat the best sushi in the world and watch this one Japanese soap opera with the subtitles on. I am completely addicted to it."

"Jesus. I can get behind that one hundred percent. When I'm deployed on land, all I end up doing is eating the local foods. And I love sushi. Would be nice to have someone to call and talk to about it. I'd even be willing to get caught up with this Japanese soap opera so we could discuss it." There he said it. He was too afraid to be more explicit than that. 

You eyed him up and down, your body still except for the rise and fall of your chest and shoulders as you breathed. "I think-"

Your words were cut off by the sound of the fasten seatbelt light being turned off. Immediately you were unbuckling again and folding the seat up. "I think I need to start the breakfast service."

Now you looked flustered as you vanished behind the curtain. Bradley waited and waited for you to return. He could smell fresh coffee brewing, and his stomach started growling. The sun rose over the Pacific Ocean outside his window, and he could see islands in the distance, but he did not want this flight to end yet. He hadn't slept all night, but he would gladly stay up another twelve hours talking to you if you'd let him.

"What would you like for breakfast?" you asked him as you started taking orders. 

"Black coffee and a muffin."

"That's it?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm planning on finding some sushi as soon as we land. You could join me?"

You bit your lip and shook your head. "Sounds appealing...but I'm working a turnaround."

"Right," Bradley rasped. So he watched you work, serving everyone with a smile, helping with whatever was needed. He ate his muffin and drank his coffee quietly. And when the captain announced the final descent into Tokyo, you took your seat across from him one last time. 

You were both silent, just looking at each other until one of you inevitably let their gaze fall to the other's lips. Then you would both look away until drawn back in to let it happen over again. 

As the wheels touched down on the runway, and the sound of the wings dampening the air flow took over the small space, Bradley leaned forward. "Can I give you my phone number? Just in case you ever want to watch Japanese soap operas or eat subpar San Diego sushi with me?"

You smirked, but after a few seconds you nodded slightly. "Just don't hold your breath that I'll use it, okay? I'm basically never home. I can't even get a cat, let alone go on a date. And you would get tired of my schedule. I can guarantee that."

Bradley listened to your words, although he didn't agree with them. But he pulled a pen out of his backpack and wrote his first name and his phone number on the beverage napkin he still had. When he handed it to you, he watched you look at it before folding it in half and tucking it into your pocket. 

And then you were up, helping all of the passengers unload from the aircraft. He watched you pull luggage down for the first class passengers before sending them on their way, but he didn't move yet. He sat for nearly a half an hour, until everyone else had unloaded and the captain and co-captain had exited the cockpit and came to stand amongst the flight attendants. But you had looked at him as often as he had been looking at you. 

Now that he was the last one onboard, he stood, watching you examine his height and entire body for the first time. 

"Fly safely," you told him with a smile. 

"You, too," Bradley replied. "I'm going to be hoping I manage to get on one of your return flights. Hoping so hard." Bradley's heart was pounding again as you gave him a little nod before he walked out of the plane and made his way onto Japanese soil. 

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

Thank you for reading this one! Please leave some love and stay tuned for the conclusion! And thanks to @bradshawsbitch for sharing her knowledge of life as a flight attendant!

PART 2

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[reidslibrarybook]

Pinecone Family

Couple - Dad!Spencer x Mom!reader

Warnings - Language, not proofread?, idk if there are anymore but lmk if there are

Summary - Spencer’s always loved his job, but how much does he love it when it gets in the way of him and his family?

Category - hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

Word Count - 3k

masterlist

Join my taglist here! —————————————-

The soft click of the door woke you from your much-needed sleep. Juggling a full time job and watching your angel, but sometimes a gremlin, of a daughter was stressful. Spencer was around, not as much as you’d like him to be, but he was trying his hardest. You sat up slightly and rubbed your eyes, your vision focusing on who had come through the door.

It was your husband.

“Hey. I’m sorry for waking you, I tried not to be too loud.”

You shook your head as a small smile formed on your face, “It’s okay. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” He walked up to the edge of the bed and engulfed you in a hug that served to show you how much he longed for your touch while he was away. The idea of physical touch was something that always irked him, especially when he was younger and after his release from incarceration. He hated when someone would touch him without permission. Wayward brushes and forced handshakes aggravated him but he was much too quiet to address his annoyance.

When he met you a couple of months after he came back from prison and recovered from the whole cat fiasco, he was initially reluctant to give his heart away again. He was afraid that you’d be a repeat of Maeve, his first love. He expressed his worries and you understood. From then on, you became his best friend, his only friend who knew about his feelings and his fears and his shortcomings. You made him happier than he had ever been before. You helped him learn how to love himself in a way that he had never loved himself before.

You always joked about your time working as a flight attendant and how one of the safety instructions applied to him. It never really clicked in his mind but you never fully explained until you rejected his romantic advances…

“No, I'm serious.”

He sipped his glass of wine, skepticism written all over his face. “How does anything from your days as a flight attendant apply to me?”

You picked your legs up from the edge of the couch and crossed your legs, turning your body to face him fully. You took a sip of your wine before proceeding, “You know that thing where all the flight attendants have to demonstrate safety procedures in the aisle ways?” He nodded. “The one thing we always have to say, especially if there are parents and children onboard is, ‘Before you help others, you must first help yourself’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I still don’t understand how that has anything to do with me.”

“Spencer,” you took his hands in yours, “You are a kind, selfless man that puts others before yourself. Why do you think your wounds never heal? You never think about yourself.”

“I do.”

You shook your head and squeezed his hands tighter, “No, you don’t. You never want to burden others with your own thoughts or feelings so you bottle it all up inside and bury it deep down. You can never heal if you don’t have any self-respect.”

He looked away from you as he began to tear up. “Spencer,” you brushed your hand against the side of his face, his stubble scratching the palm of your hand, “You are not a bad man. You are deserving of love. You are deserving of your own love. Do not ever think that you are less than.”

Tears drops rolled down his face freely as he leaned into your touch, “Y/N.”

You ran your hands up and down his back as he sobbed into your shoulder. “You need to love yourself before you give your heart away to me. I need you to be able to tell me you love every part of yourself, all the pure and innocent parts and all the dark parts. Ask me again when you love yourself as much as you love your mom or your friends or your job.”

He whimpered quietly when you pulled away from his grasp. You lifted his face with your finger on his chin as you wiped away his wet cheeks. “I promise, this isn’t because I don’t have feelings for you, Spence. I do, I have very very strong feelings for you, but I want you to learn to love yourself first before you learn to love me.” You gave him a kiss on his cheek and pulled him into another hug, trying to hug away all the pain, all the trauma, all the hurt.

Months went by and, with your help, Spencer came to understand how much he had loathed himself. He realized why he used his mirror as a coat rack… to cover his reflection.

He took all the coats off the large mirror and sat himself down on the floor at the base of it. He stared into the glass and looked at the different parts of him that he disliked.

His hair that always seemed to change since he never thought he looked good with the hairstyle prior to the ones he had before. The bags under his eyes that served as a reminder of all the late nights he spent studying late while making sure his mother was alright. The scars, all of them, that told his tragic history at the BAU. All of the good and the bad and the ugly, he reminisced about it all.

You sat down beside him and leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting him know that you were there for him. He smiled and leaned his head on yours, looking at himself and then you. He smiled, satisfied with who he was, with who he became, for the first time in his life.

“Yes.”

He looked at you confused. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” He smiled softly and pulled you into a hug. How you could read him so easily left him dumbfounded.

Eventually, he asked you to marry him just as you were about to tell him that you were pregnant. Time flew and he was happy with his marriage and his daughter and his life… almost.

“Daddy!” The two of you turned around when your screaming 5-year-old came running in, jumping into her father’s arms. “Daddy! I missed you!” She snuggled her little face into his curly hair and wrapped her tiny arms around his chest.

“I missed you too, princess.”

You smiled at the sweet moment and rubbed your daughter’s back lovingly. “Aurora, you were supposed to go to sleep three hours ago.”

She turned to sit on Spencer’s lap and face you. “I did, Mommy. I went to sleep and I waited for Daddy while I was sleeping and I woke up when I heard Daddy come home.”

“Mhm.”

She turned back to her dad and used her very small hands to grab his face, “Daddy! Daddy! Can we have a sleepover tonight? Pleaseeeeeee?” She began to pout, giving him her signature puppy dog eyes.

“You have to ask Mommy about that.” She immediately turned to you and began pouting to you while Spencer joined in.

“Please, Mommy. Just for tonight, pleaseeeee.”

“Yeah, just for tonight,” Spencer chimed in. You gave him a ‘really?’ look and sighed, shaking your head.

“Okay, fine. Just for tonight though, you have to be able to sleep in your room tomorrow like a big girl.”

“Yay! Daddy, we get to have a sleepover tonight.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead, “I’m excited. Let me go get changed out of my work clothes and then all three of us can snuggle like you like, okay princess?”

She nodded eagerly as she hopped into the middle of the bed and clung to your side, wiggling anxiously for Spencer's return. You pulled her closer to you and brushed any stray hairs out of her face. She smiled and gave you a little kiss on the nose, the smell of her apple shampoo wafting around you.

“Mommy?”

You looked at her with a smile. “Hm?”

“Can we go to the park tomorrow after school?”

“Okay, do you just want to go to the park to play with your friends?”

She shook her head rapidly. “No. I wanna get pinecones.”

You chuckled, “Pinecones? For what?”

“So I can make a pinecone family. One for me and one for you and one for Daddy. Daddy can come too! I want Daddy to come so he can tell me about the pinecones.”

You smiled, she always loved when Spencer rambled about the most random things— it kept her entertained. “Okay, Daddy can come too. But he might be busy tomorrow, you know he has to work with Aunt Emily and the rest of them.”

“Who has to work with who?” Spencer made his way out of the bathroom and lifted the covers to get into bed.

“Can you come to the park tomorrow with me and Mommy? I want to get pinecones!”

He looked at you solemnly. “I- I don’t know, princess.”

“Why don’t you know, Daddy?” She looked at him with a genuine curiosity that glimmered in her hazel eyes.

“I have work tomorrow, I might have a case.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She climbed onto his chest and wiggled her face into the crook of his neck. The disappointment was evident on her face as the guilt was evident on his. You rubbed his arm comfortingly and kissed your daughter as she drifted off.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breaths became even. “She’s asleep, Spence.”

“I’m a horrible father.”

“What?” You sat up to look at him as he averted his gaze to the mirror that was once covered with cardigans.

“I’m never here and you know it. I- I’m just like my dad.”

“No, you’re not. Your dad left you and your mom because he didn’t give a damn about either of you. You love us both but you also have an important job. She’s too young to understand, Spence.”

A stray tear fell down his cheek. You leaned over to wipe it up and kiss his pouty lips. “I love you and she loves you and you love us. That’s all that matters. She’ll get it when she gets a bit older. As long as you’re doing what you love, I’m happy.”

He nodded, still unconvinced. He wrapped what he had left of his arm around you and kissed you, your daughter laying in between the two of you. You began to fall asleep while Spencer spent the rest of the night thinking about whether or not he was truly happy.

Before he knew it, the alarm on the side of the bed began to ring— signaling the three of you to get up. Spencer shook you awake. You smiled and gave him a good morning kiss, reluctant to get out of the warm, cozy comfort of your bed.

Your morning routine passed by in a breeze. Spencer left first, having to be at work the earliest. Before he left though, he spent any spare time he had helping you pack Aurora’s lunch or helping her get ready when she couldn’t decide on what to wear. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

You dropped Aurora off at school and prepared for a busy day at work, trying your best to finish all your work before you had to pick your daughter up— you didn’t want to bring any work home, especially because you were supposed to bring her to the park.

It would be nice if Spencer were around more. You were stressed and overwhelmed from time to time and having him around to help would relieve some of that pressure. But you couldn’t ask him to give something he loved up, it was too selfish of you. He had been through so much in his life, the least you could do is let him do what he loved no matter how much of a burden it was on you.

—————————————-

You parked next to the curb by the park and unbuckled your daughter from her car seat. She held your hand, tightening and relaxing her grasp as she continued rambling about how excited she was to collect all her pinecones. She insisted on gluing googly eyes on them and using different craft supplies to make them look as human as possible so she could bring them to show and tell at school.

“How about this one, sweetheart?” You picked up one of the prettier pinecones and showed it to her. She gave her approval and handed you the basket so you could put it in. You kept walking around the park, picking up pinecones and an assortment of other “lost things”— something she got from all the Tinkerbell movies.

You reached down to pick a shiny object before you felt Aurora tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. You looked up at her, “What’s wrong?”

She pointed at something behind you, “Mommy, is that Daddy?”

You turned around and saw a tall, skinny man waving happily at the two of you. You smiled and nodded at your daughter when she looked up at you for your approval to run to him. She dropped her basket and ran as quickly as her tiny legs could carry her while making grabby hands in the air. She jumped into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around— his messenger bag falling onto the green grass.

“Daddy!”

“Hi, princess! I missed you so so much.”

She giggled, “You saw me this morning, Daddy.”

“I know, but I still miss you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as her hands found their way to his fluffy, curly hair. She wiggled out of his grasp as her feet landed on the grass. Aurora quickly grabbed his bag and his hand and pulled him to you.

As they both made their way over, he looked at you with a wide smile on his face— he looked as happy as he did the day you got married or when you told him about your pregnancy or when the two of you got to hold you little girl for the first time.

“Look, Daddy! The pinecones that we collected are in here and me and Mommy were going to go to the other park and get pretty flowers so we can dry them!”

“That sounds wonderful. Why don’t you count and make sure that you have enough pinecones before we go?” She nodded as he turned to you and pulled you into an earth-shattering kiss.

You pulled away for air, gasping. “What’s got you so happy today?”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I- I um, I might have quit.”

“Quit what?”

“My job.”

“What?”

“I didn’t want to spend so much time away from you and Aurora anymore. I always leave and go away on cases. I- I just, I want to settle down now… with you.” He took both of your hands and rubbed his thumbs over the top of them. He placed a kiss on both of them staring into your eyes lovingly. You leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Okay, Daddy. I counted and there are 17 pinecones. We can go get flowers now, I think.” He chuckled, pulling away from you and picking up your little girl.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Wait, Daddy?” He looked at her with curious eyes. “Can you tell me about pinecones?”

He nodded with a smile ever-present on his face, “Of course. So these pinecones are native to the Virginia area. They’re the Loblolly Pinecones or Pinus Taeda and…”

Spencer continued to talk as all three of you got in the car. After about 5 minutes of driving, soft snores came from the back seat. Looking back, you found Aurora sound asleep after the restless day at school and running around in the park. You smiled and turned back around to see Spencer doing the same.

“What did Emily say about your leaving?”

“She told me that she was happy for me and that the future ahead would require a lot of my time. I don’t particularly know what she meant by that though. Maybe she was just trying to sound like those little phrases that you find in fortune cookies. She did tell me she wanted to write a few of them a while back.”

You laughed quietly, “I might have an idea as to what she was alluding to.”

He pursed his lips slightly. “I think she was talking about that one girls' night where we were all playing truth or dare.”

“I- I don’t get it.”

“I may or may not have let out a little secret that you don’t know about yet.”

He continued driving with his eyes on the road, though you could tell he wanted to look at you. “And what might that secret be?”

You looked at him slyly while grabbing his hand and not-so-chalantly moving it over to your stomach, “Why don’t you take a guess?”

It took him a while for him to figure it out, but once he did, he audibly gasped. “Really? How- how long have you known?”

“A week or two. I- I didn’t know how to tell you but since you so conveniently brought it up today, I thought I would just break the news.” He smiled, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing your stomach.

“Now I can finally be there for all of their firsts.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m so glad to have met you, Y/N. You saved me.” You looked at him with an endearing smile as he took a quick glance at you, immediately returning his eyes to the road. You giggled at his cautiousness and leaned over slightly to give him a kiss.

You were right all along, it would have taken everything in him to love you and your family if he didn’t love himself first. Now, the love came effortlessly… the love for you and your little pinecone family.

—————————————-

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[gumnut-logic]

Wire (Bit 18)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6   | Bit 7 | Bit 8  | Bit 9  | Bit 10

Bit 11 | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16 | Bit 17 | Bit 18

This is the end, technically, but I need to write an epilogue to tie it all up, so one more bit :D

As always, thanks to @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 for the read through. I was a bit nervous about this one. I’ve had to jam it into so many tiny snippets of time, that it felt patchy and wonky. I’ve been assured it is okay, so hopefully you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

It took some time and some exhausting work on Virgil’s part, but eventually he could sit up and Scott arranged a press conference. Apparently, it was against his better judgment and he wanted Virgil to wait longer, but it had already been over a week and the presents kept rolling in.

So with a handmade Thunderbird Two themed beanie on his head to hide the mess of bandages and mangled hair - it had been Scott who flew in their barber to tidy it up, but the result was definitely still beanie worthy - he prepared to face the media.

Gordon respected his hair, but the beanie was definitely up for grabs on the joke front.

Virgil claimed he was just jealous he didn’t have a Thunderbird Four version. It turned out even more hilarious when Virgil discovered that the beanie did have a Thunderbird Four partner...that was tiny and barely fit his handmade doll.

Gordon was very put out.

Virgil made a point of wearing the fan made hat along with a blanket to hide his belly - who had time to make him an entire blanket? Again, green with red tassels, thin yellow stripes and a white number Two in its centre.

He might have gotten a little over-emotional over this one.

He was blaming the painkillers he was on.

Stupid drugs.

Scott, with Gordon and Alan on one side and John on the other, pushed Virgil’s hoverchair down the hall. Gordon had declared he wasn’t missing this for the world and Alan agreed. John, Virgil suspected, just wanted to keep an eye on him. His space brother had been hovering a little and it was odd John would voluntarily attend such a public gathering.

Virgil could count John’s attendances to this kind of thing on one hand.

But it was good to have all of his brothers with him. After all, they worked as a team.

As for himself, he wanted to do this, but it wasn’t easy. His health was something to be reckoned with. Scott wasn’t far wrong. His brain wanted, but his body didn’t have the resources to deliver and a simple thing like getting into the hoverchair in the first place was frustrating and exhausting as all hell.

The moment the doors opened to the pandemonium outside the front of the hospital, he realised just how much he was asking of himself.

But he was going to do this, goddamnit.

The lights from holorecorders and flashes from cameras were blinding. A sharp word from Scott dulled it all down a bit, but the noise of so many people and the brightness of the day along with those still determined to photograph him was overwhelming.

“You don’t have to do this.” Scott quiet voice in his ear was ever so protective.

“Yes, I do.” And Virgil forced himself to face the people.

Fortunately, by the time they made it to the podium and his brothers sat down beside him, the majority of the crowd had quietened down, eyes pinned on Virgil, waiting for him to speak.

But it was Scott who spoke first, dressed in his suit, impeccable as always. Virgil had a suit jacket and loose shirt on, but that was all he had been able to manage. He looked like an idiot, but hopefully a dedicated one at least.

“Good morning. As promised, my brother Virgil is here to speak with you. As you can see, he is on the mend and we are ever so happy to have him back with us. He would like to make a statement.”

And Scott turned to him.

Virgil fingered the torn-out page of his sketchbook with his notes on it and looked out at the crowd. The media hovered expectantly at the foot of the podium staring up at him, but beyond that were the group of people that he had come here to speak to. Most were average, likely interested townsfolk, but in the centre there was a swath of green clothing. Several held signs and placards that said things like ‘Get Well Soon, TB2’ and ‘Thunderbirds 4ever’. There was even one sign that declared ‘We love you, Virgil!’.

These were the people responsible.

The mic stared at him.

He pulled on the speech training they had all had and straightened his shoulders the best he could.

“My sole purpose of speaking to you today is to thank all of you for all your support and for all the gifts that have been sent to me. I wanted you to know that every gesture is valued and...” He placed a hand on his heart. “...I am ever so grateful.” Said heart was doing a royal dance behind his breastbone. He pushed a smile onto his face. “I would particularly like to thank Gavii for the hat. I needed it.” The smile became a grin. “Kat’s playlist was a beauty, and JB’s TB2 was an utter delight.” He looked down, his mind rifling through all the gifts he had been given. Looking up, he stared across the crowd to the bunch of green people in the centre. “If I named all of you, I would be here all day, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate and value all your contributions. I will be passing the majority onto those who need them much more than I do, but I will keep your well wishes in my heart for all time.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Scott’s eyes were an intensity off to his left. Gordon had already placed a hand on his arm from his right.

Now what he had wanted to say had been said, exhaustion was having a good go at winning the war. He knew this would happen, but screw it.

His eldest brother shifted in his seat. “I would like to express my thanks alongside my brother. We are very grateful for all the support shown to Virgil and our family during this difficult time. International Rescue will be returning to operation as soon as possible.”

“Who will be flying Thunderbird Two?”

Scott eyed the reporter at the front of the crowd. “Plans are in place. IR operational procedure is not what this conference is about.” The commander’s protective nature regarding the secrecy of their organisation automatically coming to the fore.

“It won’t be the same without you, Virgil!” A woman in the midst of the green patch yelled across the crowd. The people around her murmured agreement.

Virgil twisted his lips, the need to defend his brothers foremost in his mind. “My brothers are quite capable of providing our services without me. You can be assured of that.”

“I have to agree with them on this one, Virg.” Gordon’s fond smile shone at Virgil and then across the audience. “It won’t be the same and we are all looking forward to having you back.” That hand on his arm squeezed tight.

Virgil’s lips had to curl into a smile.

“Three cheers for International Rescue!” It was yelled at the top of someone’s lungs and suddenly the crowd was cheering like crazy. Virgil’s name prominent, but also the other brothers, all topped off with a ‘Tracy, Tracy, Tracy!”

Beside Virgil, Gordon jumped up and joined in, Alan not far behind him. John smirked and Scott tried to stay serious, but his eyes were sparkling.

Cameras started flashing again, holo-recorders buzzing around, but despite the overwhelming noise, Virgil’s smile just got bigger.

-o-o-o-

Next

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Two)

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, a little fluff, angst, abusive relationship stuff

Word count: 2,728

Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.

Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist

Chan had been wanting to see you all week, but between Luhan and Dae coming to visit to see Eunjin, and then her and her mate going to visit Jiung and his pack for a few days, he felt it was best to stay with the pack rather than go out to the market where he could possibly get himself into even more trouble if he were caught -- he did try to change his appearance like his brothers who had been spotted by people in town, but there was still a chance of getting caught. But as soon as the couple had returned safely from their trip, he went straight to the market to go in search of you.

-

You returned every day, half because you wanted to get away from your family and their plans for your marriage, and half because you wanted to see the strange boy that had caught your eye. There was just something about him that made you feel…something. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it was a good feeling.

To your dismay, nobody had shown up all week. You wandered the booths for hours and hours, but you never saw any sign of any of the strange boys from earlier that week. You felt like you wouldn’t actually ever see them again, but what did you expect with your awful luck?

You’d been at the market all day, and judging from the sun in the sky, it seemed to be about mid-afternoon. You had hardly eaten, so you went up to a stand to grab something to eat. Fishing in the pocket of your dress for money, you felt a presence beside you.

“I’ll take care of this,” the voice said before holding a hand out to the vendor, giving them a bill. You stopped what you were doing and turned to the stranger, coming face to face with a grinning Chan as he looked down at you, “Hello again, _____.”

You almost gasped at how happy you were to see him, and your excitement almost had you tossing your arms around his neck in a hug. Instead, you began to bounce on the balls of your feet, making him laugh.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed as he grabbed a fresh apple from the vendor. “I didn’t think you’d come back!”

You didn’t know, but Chan’s heart was soaring knowing that you were waiting for him. He couldn’t fight the happy rumble that sounded in his chest, but it was too loud and busy for you to hear it, “Were you watching for me?”

“All week,” you admitted shyly, your cheeks turning a light pink that made Chan so fond of you.

‘God, my mate is so cute,’ was all he could manage to think when he looked at you and heard you speak.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he smiled, bowing slightly as he held the apple out for you.

With a giggle, you took it and held it to your chest like it was a precious gift, “It’s probably weird of me to want to see you; I hardly know you.”

“Why do you think I showed up today?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Did you really come here for me?”

He shrugged, “I’m not the one who does the shopping, so I have no other reason to.”

Chan heard your heartbeat pick up, causing another happy growl. He wanted so badly to hold your hand and pull you to him and kiss you breathless, but he had to remind himself that not only would that be too sudden, but you still belonged to someone else.

Someone you didn’t want to belong to.

Chan hadn’t mentioned it to any of the pack because he knew they wouldn’t approve, but he planned to offer to take you away from the life he knew you didn’t want. He wasn’t completely sure about your home life, but he wanted to know everything about you. He was determined to get more information before making a final decision.

But at the moment, his only plan was to get you away from your fiancé before you turned nineteen.

“So, _____, how've you been?” he wondered as the two of you began to walk side-by-side through the market.

You hummed softly as you tried to think of everything that had happened the passed week, “Well…my family has gotten suspicious of me going to market every day. They think I’m meeting with a secret lover, apparently.”

“Ah, so that’s what I am?” Chan joked with a chuckle, making your already pink face turn more red. But then he turned serious, scrutinizing your body. “They haven’t hurt you, though, have they?”

You sighed, subconsciously rubbing your left forearm, “They did something a little…extreme…”

Chan’s eyes widened, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you over to a secluded area, covered by shadows from nearby buildings. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you intensely, his brown eyes studying you.

“Did anybody hurt you, _____?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No! Well, I mean, the procedure didn’t feel good but--”

“What happened?” he demanded, and you swore you heard him growl.

Part of you didn’t understand why this stranger seemed to be so protective over you. He only really knew your name, yet he was acting so concerned for you. But on the other hand, you liked the feeling. Even your fiancé never really seemed to act like he cared much about your well-being. You weren’t really sure why he wanted to marry you, anyway.

“His family wanted to make sure I wasn’t sneaking off anywhere,” you explained, holding your forearm out for him to see the small, raised scar on your skin, “so they put a tracker in me. They know where I am no matter what.”

Chan didn’t like this one bit. Not only would it make it harder for him to take you away and protect you, but it was just inhumane! Who in their right mind would put a tracker inside a human just because they were paranoid? Werewolves were some of the most territorial creatures when it came to mates, and even he would never do something like that.

He had half a mind to grow his claws out and tear the tracker out then and there.

“Chan!” a familiar male voice shouted behind him.

Before he could do or say anything about your tracker, he turned to see Hansol walking over to him, and Yeji for some reason following behind him with a sunhat on her head to hide her ears.

“What are you doing here, Sol?” Chan wondered.

“Hansol, right?” you asked, recalling his name. 

Hansol smiled, but it seemed a little forced, “Hello again, _____. This is Yeji, my… My, uh…”

“Sister,” Yeji said with a chuckle at Hansol’s sudden lapse of thought. “He’s just a little flustered over Chan.”

The pup really didn’t want to be rude, but he had things to attend to, such as making his mate his instead of some asshole’s who didn’t trust her and treated her like some sort of pet. But it was clear Hansol knew something was up with the youngest of the pack by the way he had looked at him and made a point to interrupt his time with you.

“Sol, why are you here?” Chan repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “And why’d you bring Yeji with you?”

“What, I can’t leave the house?” Yeji asked with a playful smile. “Jihoon’s busy with yardwork anyway, and we all know I’m not doing that. Hansol mentioned coming to the market, so I tagged along.”

“So you just came here for fun?” the younger wolf asked.

"Technically, we have errands,” she explained before listing off, “Soomin asked for some supplies, Jeonghan wanted more of that honey bread since Junhui ate the last of it, Josh needs... What did Joshua want again?”

You were lost on everything they were saying, but you were just glad that Chan had come back for you. Something about him felt…safe. You weren’t sure why since he was just a stranger, but it was comforting anyway. He was still better than your family and fiancé, that was for sure.

As if he could somehow tell you were thinking poorly of him, the devil himself made his way through the crowd with two guards, clearly looking for you. He looked up from the device he was using to track you and locked eyes with yours. He didn’t like seeing you with strange people he didn’t know, especially two men. 

You visibly gulped, and it wasn’t only Chan that took notice. Yeji and Hansol followed your gaze while Chan tried to grip your upper arms. You quickly shook him off and stepped through the small crowd around you.

“Hello, Donghae,” you greeted him politely, keeping your eyes on the ground as you knew he was angry with you.

“Don’t be afraid of me, sweetheart,” he cooed, which only made you more afraid of him. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

As much as you didn’t want to – you wanted to keep them as far away from Donghae as possible – you knew better than to go against an order from your fiancé. You turned around as he took your hand and looped it through his arm as if you two were actually a happy couple. However, walking toward Chan and his friends with Donghae so close, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Cautiously, you looked up to see all three of them staring at you. Yeji looked curious, Hansol looked curious, and Chan looked downright angry. You assumed it was because he knew what your fiancé had done to you, but you also didn’t want Donghae knowing you told other people about his treatment toward you.

You tried to hold your head up higher, hearing Donghae’s voice in your head calling you a ‘pathetic, shy girl’ like he had done before, “This is my…fiancé, Kwon Donghae.”

The man beside you gave a smug smile, bowing to your friends to play up the ‘good fiancé’ bit. Politely, Hansol and Yeji bowed back to him. Chan didn’t. Thankfully, your fiancé was too busy being cocky to realize.

“Thank you for keeping my beautiful fiancée company,” Donghae told them, although you could tell clearly that his sincerity was an act.

Hansol didn’t seem to think so, smiling warmly at him, “Of course, we really--”

“However, that will not be necessary,” he continued, his smile dropping. Now, he just looked bored speaking with them, as if they weren’t worth his time – which, in his head, they weren’t. “_____ doesn’t need to be babied, and she doesn’t need friends. I already provide her with everything she needs. If I catch any of you with her again, it won’t be good.”

“Shouldn’t that be _____’s choice?” Chan spoke up sharply, his brown eyes glaring straight at Donghae.

He’d never been talked back to since he was the son of a higher-up in town, so he was visibly shocked by this, “Excuse me?”

“Clearly you aren’t keeping her company, so somebody has to,” the dark-haired boy continued. “Besides, she seems to enjoy having some actual fun.”

You didn’t have to look at Donghae to know his angry gaze was on you now. “Is this true, _____? Do you enjoy hanging out with these people over your loving fiancé?”

“Well, I--”

Your chin was grabbed roughly as he forced you to look at him, and you could’ve sworn you heard someone growl. From your peripherals, you saw Hansol and Yeji place their hands on Chan, who was now shaking from anger.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Donghae ordered through clenched teeth, his face inches from yours. “Now answer me.”

“N-no…” you lied nervously.

He continued to search your eyes for a moment before he finally let you go and stepped away from you, “If you’re not back to my house in fifteen minutes, you’ll be in big trouble. We need to have a chat.”

With that, he turned and left with his little posse of guards that he’d brought with him. The four of you watched him disappear into the crowd before Chan was grabbing your hand in his, automatically calming you.

“What the hell was that?” Yeji wondered quietly.

“_____,” Chan’s soft but intense voice was what made you look away from where Donghae stalked off to. When you looked at him, he definitely still looked angry, but his features softened when he saw how afraid you looked. “I won’t let him do anything to you.”

You shook your head, already having accepted your fate once the tracker was put in your arm, “Nobody can do anything to stop him. His father practically runs this town, and he--”

“Then I’ll take you away from the town,” Chan promised, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’ll take you somewhere they have no power, and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

As much as his promise made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help but wonder why this strange boy you hardly knew was telling you he’d risk his life to get you out of your bad situation, “Why do you want to help me?”

He just shook his head at your question, “That’s not important. I’ll try to come see you again, okay?”

“My house is usually empty during the week,” you told him eagerly – maybe too eagerly. “It’s on the same street as the flower shoppe, and there’s pink flowers out front.”

“Oh, I know where that is!” Yeji spoke up. “Chan, I can bring you.”

Chan smiled widely at the older girl before turning back to you. He knew he should wait a little bit as to lessen the suspicion on you. The last thing he wanted was for Donghae to hurt you some more.

“Two days?” he asked.

You nodded, “Two days.”

-

You made it back to Donghae with time to spare thanks to your running. You were sweaty and out of breath, but you wouldn’t have to face any extra consequences. However, when you went to his room, he was pacing and wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“Donghae?” you asked softly.

“Who was that girl?” he asked you, his voice a mumble as he was deep in thought.

“I…I don’t know.” you told him honestly. “I've never seen her before. Sh-she said her name was Yeji, but...”

“I know she’s not a resident of this town,” he continued, not looking over at you, “and those men you were with also strike me as suspicious. I think those are the werewolves the guards have been dealing with.”

Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your throat. You thought werewolves were just some legend; a scary story. There was no way they were actually real, right? But if Donghae was saying they were…

“…What does that mean?” you asked quietly.

“If there’s a new person being spotted in our town, then they must be imprinting,” Donghae stated, finally standing still in the middle of the room. “They must live nearby if them and their mates are coming to my town.”

He spat out the word ‘mates’, and something about it didn’t make you feel good.

“Not to disrespect you, Donghae,” you began, which made him give you a sharp look. You gulped, “but…what has led you to believe they’re a pack of werewolves? I didn’t even think they existed...”

“Stupid girl, weren’t you listening?” he groaned. “Of course they exist! And our town has been dealing with them for a while now. We had caught one and its disgusting mate, but they got away. Now, this new girl shows up with two suspicious men but they don’t actually have residence here? This Yeji is one of their mates, and the pack must be nearby.”

“What if they’re just out of town?”

“_____, I know a werewolf when I see one!” he roared. “And do you know anything about werewolves, you stupid girl? Hmm?”

You didn’t have an answer for that.

“Exactly,” he stated before calling out for guards. Two of them showed up immediately. “Send a team to the surrounding forest tonight. I’m afraid we have a werewolf infestation.”

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 3

Masterlist  /  Playlist for reading in this chapter, the reader is fighting an infection and making a furry friend.

CW for phsyical injury, bodily fluids, extreme pain, loss of consciousness and being pinned down by someone (this sounds terrible but I promise it gets more fluffy halfway through!)

This beautiful screencap of Valka was shared in our discord and I don’t know who took it, please let me know if you know the artist so I can credit them and check out their other work!

Healing

You woke up crying, the pain in your cheek threatening to split your head in half. Your cheek was wet from your tears and sticky from the wound that had been seeping all night. Eda stirred next to you and you both stared at each other in utter horror. William’s daughter looked like a corpse. Her cheeks and eyes had sunken deep into her skull and her face was a greyish color. You probably didn’t look any better, if her shock was any indication. 

The cell opened and you got your first round of water and bread for the day. The man feeding you gave you a pitiful look but did not say anything about your state. There was still alcohol on his breath and he looked annoyed about his task, probably wishing he was still in bed like the other warriors. You did not dare to ask for help.

You drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours as the last few other prisoners were taken to Randvi and questioned about their knowledge and alliances. There was an aura of hopelessness in your cell. No one was speaking, everyone was staring at their feet and flinching at any loud noise. Eda ate a piece of bread and got terrible stomach cramps but managed to keep it down. At least one good thing. 

People were going in and out of the longhouse, you could hear horses outside, swords clashing in the distance - probably training - and a few servants sweeping the big hall and cleaning up last night’s mess. Suddenly something small and white moved into your field of vision. Were you dreaming again? You were sure you had a fever by now.

But this was real, Eda saw it too. She had straightened up next to you, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. A scrawny white cat was cautiously circling the cell and apparently scouring for leftovers. You quickly skimmed the ground for anything you could offer the little animal. And yes, there was a big crumb right next to your heel. You carefully pushed it closer to you with your foot and managed to get it all the way into your hands’ reach. 

Quietly whispering and purring to the cat, you tried to lure her closer. And sure enough, the little white lady slowly came closer to your hands. You stayed completely still and held out the crumb on your open palm. Carefully, the cat stuck its paw through the bars and pulled the crumb back toward her. She devoured it right away. Softly meowing, she looked up at you, asking for more. You smiled at the sweet animal, a silver lining on this terrible day in this terrible cell.

“Birna! Where are you, you little rascal?” a familiar raspy voice called out, this time in the sweetest singsong, making you smile even more. The cat did not move from its spot next to you, instead meowing back louder to call to her mistress. You slowly stretched out your hands and she watched them curiously, beginning to purr as you drew your fingertips over her soft fur. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eivor rounding the corner, wearing nothing but a thick grey knee-length tunic and fur boots. She froze in her tracks when she saw the scene before her. You quickly pulled your hands back, thinking she was angry at you for petting the cat. She suddenly rushed to the guard that had fallen asleep on his chair, slapping his chest with the back of her hand and ripping the keys to your cell from his grasp. He jerked awake, but Eivor had already opened the door and squatted down next to you. 

“Fuck the gods.” She sounded astonished and extremely worried at the same time. “Damn you, Dag, how did you not see this? Her wound has festered!” 

Eivor’s voice got louder and angrier with every word. She placed a hand on your forehead. 

“She’s burning up! I’m taking her to Valka.” With one swift motion, she had unbound your hands and picked you up. You hung in her arms, too weak to move. As she carried you out of the pen, she shot Dag a warning look and hissed: “We’ll talk about this later.”

The tall warrior almost ran out of the longhouse, whispering to you to stay with her and that she would take you to the best healer she knew.

“Don’t you worry, little bird. You just have to fight and recover. I will take care of you from now on.”

You arrived at a smaller hut and entered the dimly lit room that smelled of burned incense and freshly cut wood. A small, black-haired woman with a beautiful headdress and impressive facial tattoos leaped to her feet when she saw you come in. 

“Oh Eivor, what have you brought me now? Lay her down here.” She motioned to her bed, a simple wooden plank with a sack of straw and a number of furs. Eivor laid you down gently, kneeling next to you and squeezing your hand. 

“She was struck by her master two days ago. It must have gotten this bad last night.”

Valka crouched down and inspected your tender flesh. You fainted several times as she prodded at the wound but Eivor always called you back to her. The healer was now assembling herbs, burning something, and heating up water in a kettle over her fireplace. She ground up some sort of root and a few herbs and threw the mixture into the boiling water. Then she took a clean cloth and ordered Eivor to place the hot kettle on a wooden plate next to the bed. 

She dipped the cloth into the hot, sour-smelling brew that stung in your eyes and nose, then she pressed it on your cheek. It felt like she had stabbed a dagger into your skull, the pain ringing in your ears and making you see nothing but burning white. You were too exhausted to scream, fading in and out of consciousness. Instead, your body started violently shaking and Valka yelled at Eivor to pin you down before dunking the cloth into the scalding hot liquid and repeating the procedure again and again. Thankfully, you lost consciousness completely after the third time. The last thing you felt was Eivor’s big, warm hands on your upper arms and her knee on your hip, holding you down as you convulsed in pain.

-

When you woke up for the second time today, you were still lying on Valka’s bed. You wore a long linen tunic and the women seemed to have washed you, freeing you from the sweat and dirt that had accumulated in the last days. The room smelled better than before, the kettle was over the fire again and the small woman stirred dried flowers and other herbs into the water. Eivor was sitting next to you and wringing out another piece of cloth over a bucket. You braced yourself for more pain, but the water was cool and the blonde gently wiped your forehead and healthy cheek, your neck, and upper chest, humming softly to herself. She dampened the towel anew and folded it to lay it on your forehead. It was only now she realized you were awake. 

“Little bird.” She laid a hand on your cheek. “The worst is over.”

Valka came over with a mug and put it down next to you. She gave you an exhausted but encouraging smile.

“I apologize for hurting you this much. The infection was spreading across your face, I needed to draw it out. You will need at least a week to heal.”

You raised a hand to your face, but Eivor stopped you from touching yourself.

“We will put on a bandage later. Now there is just a salve,” Valka explained, “and you will have to drink this daily to help your body fight from the inside and give you strength.” 

She handed you the clay jug and you carefully raised it to your lips, taking a small sip of the concoction. It tasted sweet and earthy, immediately spreading warmth throughout your body and giving you the strength to fully open your eyes again. The wolf-kissed smiled at you. 

“I will leave you in Valka’s care for now. Soon I will take you to my hut and look after you there,” she promised. “I need to go and attend to important business, but I will bring you both supper later.” She took your hand again and softly rubbed her thumb over your knuckles, then she raised it to her lips and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand.

Before leaving, she put her hands on Valka’s shoulders and sincerely thanked her for helping you. Then she gave you a last smile and left. 

The healer forced you to drink three jugs of her wonderful tea, then she helped you outside to relieve yourself and brought you back to bed, rubbing the salve into your cheek again and ordering you to sleep for now. The ointment numbed your skin and made the pain bearable. Taking a final look at the sun setting behind the mountains, you drifted away to sleep again. 

-

When Eivor brought bread and stew later, you felt much better already. The two Viking women sat on the floor next to you as you ate together. The stew was made with thick chunks of fatty meat and big slices of root vegetables, filling your stomach for the first time in days. Eivor told Valka about the raid; apparently the healer had not attended the celebrations yesterday. When the warrior told Valka about Dag's terrible state last night and this morning, the dark-haired woman just shook her head about this much exorbitance and stupidity. 

Even though you were still exhausted and not fully present at times, it was nice to sit with the two women and listen to them exchange stories and opinions, talk about plans for the future and a woman Valka was thinking about pursuing. The name Randvi caught your attention at one point, but with a meaningful look from Eivor, the topic was changed. 

As it got dark and you couldn't stop yourself from yawning, they debated what to do with you this night. Valka offered to sleep on the floor so you could stay here, but Eivor argued that she had a bed large enough and far more comfortable for the both of you. The healer admitted that you seemed to be stable for now and made Eivor promise to call for her immediately if anything happened with you. 

She handed Eivor a bag with the ointment, a few clean bandages, and the herb blend for the tea you should drink for the next few days. The blonde slung the pouch over her shoulder, then she approached you with a suddenly shy smile. 

“We haven’t asked you for your opinion on this at all. Do you even want to sleep in my hut?” she asked timidly, seeming almost nervous as she waited for your answer.

You shook your head and smiled. “Eivor, I’m just glad to be out of that terrible cell. I will sleep on the floor if I need to.”

“Little bird, tonight you will fly into the land of dreams on the softest wings. This bed is fit for a queen.” 

You held up your arm and wrapped it around the back of her neck as she picked you up again. Valka accompanied you outside, then she said her goodbyes and left for the longhouse. Eivor carried you in the other direction and used her knee to open the door to her big wooden cottage. Red rugs covered the wooden floorboards and a big torch next to the entrance lit the room, drenching it in flickering golden light. Her bed really was gigantic, with intricate carvings on the headbord and furs draped over the mattress.

The warrior gently lowered you onto her bed and laid down an enormous quilt over your body. She lit a candle on her side of the bed and put out the torch. Then she sat down on a big trunk and took off her boots, placing them neatly at the foot of the wooden bedframe. Slowly, trying not to disturb you, she laid down next to you and covered herself with a thin blanket. You raised your head.

“Won’t you get cold?”

Eivor looked at you in surprise, probably having assumed you were already sleeping. She gave you her wonderfully crooked smile. 

“I’m very hot blooded. I don’t mind the cold.” 

“I admire that,” you sighed. “I’m always freezing.”

She turned toward you and rested her head on her arm, stretching out her other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. Her fingers stayed on your forehead for a moment. 

“Your fever has dropped. Good,” she mumbled, “you’ll be better tomorrow. Sleep now, little bird.” 

-

Later at night you woke up from the sound of your own chattering teeth. The cold had entered the hut and taken a hold of you with its icy fingers; your whole body was cramping up and shaking. 

You looked over at the warrior lying next to you. Eivor was sleeping soundly, her bare arms thrown over her head and one leg sticking out from under the blanket. She seemed to be immune to the bitter cold.

There was no way you could fall asleep like this, freezing and shivering, your jaw hurting from trying to stop the chattering. You had to take the plunge. Slowly, you turned over to Eivor, scooting closer to her and lifting the quilt to come in contact with her warm body. She was radiating heat. 

You snuggled up to her, laying your head on her shoulder and resting your arm on her chest. She flinched at your weight on her, opening her eyes to make sure there was no danger. You two shared a silent look, then she smiled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in closer and warming you up so quickly that you were asleep again within minutes.

-

The next morning you were woken by the bustle outside, animal noises mixing with the blacksmith’s hammer and people talking as they walked past. A rooster crowed and reminded you of your old home in Williamsburg. You were still lying close to Eivor, your head in the crook of her arm and your leg intertwined with hers. She hummed in her sleep as she felt you stirring and pulled you in, not allowing you to move.

You noticed that your head wasn’t throbbing anymore. Your cheek still felt tender and the wound stung, but you were sure the salve and the herbal infusion Valka had given you would get you through the day. 

Eivor moved again, turning her torso toward you and holding you even closer to her chest. 

“How did you sleep, little bird?” she mumbled into your hair. “Did I share enough of my warmth with you?”

You pressed your forehead into the hollow spot beneath her collarbone and inhaled her wonderful scent, a mixture of herbs, tree bark, snow days and a faint musk reminding you of the deer on William’s pasture.

“Without you, I would have frozen to death last night,” you murmured back. She enveloped you with her strong, hot body while her fingers stroked your hair absentmindedly. 

Suddenly, the blonde drew her head back to look down at you. 

“How is your face? Better?”

You nodded. 

“It still burns, but I think the worst is over.”

Eivor let go of you and stretched her arm toward the bag on the wooden trunk, almost falling off the bed when she finally caught it. You grabbed her hand just in time to pull her back up, both of you having to laugh at her clumsiness. She opened the small jar with the rich yellow cream and dipped two fingers into the mixture. Careful not to press down too hard, she rubbed the salve into your cheek, all the way from your jaw to your temple. As she massaged the little dent there, you closed your eyes and leaned into her touch. 

After a while, Eivor got up and put on leather pants and a coat over her tunic. She lit the fireplace so you would be warm all day and slipped on her boots, promising to return soon with breakfast and a kettle to make your tea. 

You let yourself fall back onto the pillow and pulled the quilt all the way up to your nose. This day promised to be a lot more comfortable than the last ones. There was not going to be much to do except lay around and wait for Eivor to check in on you every once in a while. Maybe she would give you something to do - you could mend clothes for her or sweep the hut or prepare food for later. 

It seemed terribly unfair to you all of a sudden, you sitting here warm and fed while Eda and the others were still biding their time in their cell. It was not like you had done anything to gain anyone’s favor, Eivor just seemed to take to you a lot and your injury had drastically changed your path here. You wondered what the others were doing now and what they would be doing in the next few weeks. Eivor hadn’t taken them here without reason, there had to be a purpose to all of this. 

A noise at the window made you look up. It was Birna, the white cat from yesterday, shooting you a demanding look through the gaps in the wooden grid that let in some light without leaving a big hole in the wall. Right, no glass windows. No wonder you had been freezing last night. Careful not to lose your balance, you got up from the bed and took the grid from the small opening. You were delighted to see that it had started snowing outside. Birna gave you a satisfied meow and squeezed through the window, immediately heading for the bed and curling up right where you had sat. The spot was probably still warm.

After placing the grid back in the window frame, you joined Birna on the mattress. She stretched and rubbed her tiny head against the back of your hand, demanding to be petted, and you humbly obliged. The two of you sat together for a while, the little lady purring in response as you made her compliments and told her about the cats back at Williamsburg.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. This was strange - why would Eivor knock? To make sure you weren’t indecent? She had already seen you naked yesterday, although it would fit her to still be all honorable and courteous.

Another knock.

“Eivor, are you there? It’s Randvi.”

Your breath caught in your throat and Birna looked up at you, indignant at your sudden refusal to pet her. You did not dare to move or say anything. 

“Listen, I know we quarreled yesterday, but does this mean you won’t speak to me now? I just want to talk.” She sounded desperate, knocking harder this time. Fuck.

For a moment, there was silence and you started to hope she had left. 

Then the handle turned and the door opened. 

Randvi stood in the door, tall and beautiful as ever, her hand still on the doorknob. In a matter of seconds, her face went through surprise, confusion, realization, anguish and then nothing but wrath. You sat stone still, staring at her.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet and ice cold.

“So that’s how it is. I understand now.” She laughed but there was no humor in her voice, only bitterness.

Before you could say anything, she had turned on the spot and slammed the door shut. You could hear her steps fade away on the path to the longhouse and finally dared to release the breath you had been holding this entire time.

Birna had jumped at the loud noise, but now she rolled herself up in your lap and began to purr again. You let your head fall back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather your thoughts. 

Jesus Christ.

You jerked up when you heard steps at the door again, but this time it was Eivor that entered. There were snowflakes in her hair, her face was flushed from the cold and she had brought a well-filled jute bag and a dark metal cauldron. A bright smile was on her face as she stomped her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots and threw the bag on the bed. 

“First snow!” she pointed out the obvious and took off her coat before letting herself fall onto the bed next to you and giving Birna a big smooch, which the cat took with an annoyed grumble.

“How did she get in here?” Eivor laughed and ruffled the cat’s fur. “She doesn’t like the snow. The little Viking princess is a sensitive one. She stays in here all winter and complains until the thaw comes.”

You cleared your throat. “I let her in through the window. But…” Eivor seemed to finally sense something was wrong and gave you a questioning look.

“Randvi was here.”

The blonde closed her eyes and sighed, then she blinked up at the ceiling just as you had done minutes earlier. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s complicated.” She shook her head.

You bit your lip and gave her an apologetic look. “She seemed displeased.”

This was a vast understatement, but you did not want to get involved in this, whatever it was. 

“I’ll talk to her later. This has nothing to do with you,” Eivor promised. Exactly.

You shared a breakfast consisting of bread, goat cheese and dried fruit while the water over the fireplace had started boiling and the herbs inside filled the entire room with their pleasant smell. 

When you had finished your meal and started sipping your brew, Eivor propped herself up on her elbow next to you. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Eivor?”

With her fingertips she drew patterns into Birna’s fur, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“Do you think you could take another look at the map? I am planning on raiding Fort Winton tomorrow or the day after. The time is right, we are experienced in fighting in the snow and cold. I want to get this done.”

You swallowed hard, thinking of the life you had led before. If you supported this raid, you were betraying all your previous affiliations and fealties. Winton’s Steward was a terrible man. He had scared you when you were younger and he scared you now. You were sure that there was not a single person under his rule that enjoyed his company or thought him a good sovereign. You took a deep breath.

“I will. But under one condition: I do not wish to be seen as subject to English rule and fealty. I owe them nothing. I will give you all my knowledge and skill and I will swear my loyalty to you, only you. I will no longer be an English prisoner but your servant and by extension, a part of this clan.”

Eivor listened to you intently and considered your proposition for a moment, then she nodded. 

“I would not have let you come into my house and sleep next to me if I did not trust you already. I do not know how, but it sometimes feels like destiny brought us together.” Her hand moved toward yours, then she pulled it back and continued to pet Birna.

“I will speak to the council about this tonight. Tomorrow you shall help us strategize, so we can leave at first light the next day.”

You agreed, stretching out a hand to stroke Birna’s fur and just so happening to brush over Eivor’s knuckles with your fingertips. Both of you had to smile, feeling as if you shared a secret, one that had not fully revealed itself to you yet.

The warrior actually had a few tasks for you that you could take care of in bed: a few of her tunics that had tears and holes, a pair of pants which had ripped at the back - she went crimson red and mumbled something about a drinking contest and a wrestling match - and an old fur coat she had grown out of but gave to you to mend and wear. 

You spent the day with Birna, sewing and patching up Eivor’s clothes while telling the cat stories about Delia and Henry and your favorite adventures from your childhood. Eivor came by later, dropping off some more fruit to pass the time until supper. She seemed slightly irritated, but when she saw your work on her clothes she rejoiced. 

“You’re an artist, little bird! With you by my side, I will soon look like a queen!”

You laughed and clutched the fur coat to your chest. 

“I will take this as my first payment, then. Thank you. Maybe I will finally be warm for once.”

“Y/N, are you telling me you were cold last night? You must be made of ice if my heat could not pierce you,” Eivor teased you playfully. 

“Oh, it most certainly did. It seems you are the only one capable of doing so.” You smiled at her. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumbs over your palm. 

“I need to go now and meet the council. I will come back to warm you later.” She stroked Birna’s fur one last time, then she got up and in leaving threw you a last look that sent blood into your cheeks and made your stomach flutter.

“I long for it,” you whispered after she had closed the door behind her.

[swanno-arts]

help me god i also cant stop thinking abt cygnus i gave him rough ideas of his fellow aircrews and boss and also gave him a jackass brother

things i have abt them so far under the cut

First Officer/Co-Pilot Axon - Black Swan - He/They

Axon's roughly 1 and a half years older than Cygnus. They're very lax about his job as co-pilot because, face it, Cygnus does most of the work if it's not auto pilot. Axon doesn't really care about "being presentable at work", if it weren't for company regulations they would show up to work with a hawaiian shirt, uncombed and untied hair. Axon is also a very light sleeper - he has admitted that he gets most of his sleep when auto pilot is on. Has his upmost respect for Cygnus' overall diligence and piloting skills knowing how young he is.

Second Officer/Flight Engineer Andreas - Black Heron - He/Him

Andreas is the oldest out of all of the Swan Air staff who unfortunately cannot pension early due to the work contract. He has served Swan Air ever since it was first established, being one of the captains himself. In his older age however, he decided to step down the ranks and become a flight engineer instead. Andreas isn't so keen about someone as young as Cygnus and Axon handling the aircraft, but if they're doing well so be it. Andreas is also Parasol's father, although they've cut ties long ago and he doesn't want to talk about them unless you force him to.

Flight Attendant Dee - Dunlin - She/Her

One of the younger flight attendants in the staff. Her recruitment was mostly recent so she still has a lot to learn about serving passengers on flight. She's mostly cheerful and friendly even when faced with stress. Dee formed a close platonic bond with Maggie, her senior crewmate, and actually shares an apartment room with her. Dee is also close to most other Swan Air staff, including Cygnus and Axon. She's often offered to come along to drink after work, but she would always refuse.

Flight Attendant Maggie - Yellow Canary - She/Her

A more experienced flight attendant within the Swan Air staff. Maggie isn't the type to talk too much unless prompted so mostly handles the in flight safety procedures and assist passengers with their baggage. Maggie has seen the goods and the downright shits of the company, but decided not to do much about it because this was her only job. Maggie cares for Dee off schedule and teaches the young bird several life skills. Maggie gets along well with the rest of her aircrew but very much despises her boss, Seven. She would often be name-called by "Mango" by him and it irks her a lot.

Swan Air CEO Seven - Trumpeter Swan - He/Him

The current big bad boss of Swan Air, successor to his late father who was the founder of the company. Nobody in Swan Air really likes him one bit, which is not a surprise considering his awful leadership and work ethics. Seven forces strict regulations on his workers while pretty much excluding himself from any and all of the rules. How he evaded law and whatever remains a mystery to all the staff. He was actually once the company's best pilots in his younger age...wonder what happened. He's just a pure dick right now.

Cooper Silberg - Whooper Swan - He/Him

Cooper is Cygnus' older and more successful brother working in the business sector. Cygnus never mentions Cooper to anyone ever since he part ways with his family to live for himself so not many people even know he has a brother. Cooper, on the other hand, constantly badmouths Cygnus behind his back to flaunt how he's the better brother of the Silberg family. Cygnus tries his best to not hate him, but he always ends up being a nuisance if they ever meet. Cooper often bullies and taunts Cygnus by "offering" cash and credit what nots - but Cygnus never budged. Their relationship remains extremely distant to this day.

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 18

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1639

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, kidnapping, panic attacks, pregnancy complications, medical procedures

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 18

Clint’s mission was supposed to only be two nights.  “Three at most,” Steve had assured the three of you with the cool calm of a man who had completed thousands of similar missions with no problem.  The Avengers team had been really good about keeping Natasha and Clint’s missions under a week and the closer you got to the due date, the shorter and less frequent they became.  No one wanted the baby to arrive when a family member was missing, and they knew how much stress it put on you when either Clint or Natasha weren’t there.

This particular team had included Steve and Thor, so you weren’t exactly worried about him.  If it was a simple mission with two of the bigger hitters, he’d be home in no time.

When the fifth night passed and they weren’t back, you began to worry.

You weren’t the only one.  Natasha wouldn’t let on, but you could tell the lack of any word was getting to her too.  She was in the comms rooms and attending meetings so much that you only saw her at night, and often you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

That only made you more anxious and over the course of the week where there was no word, each time you woke up to an empty bed you would start imagining the absolute worst possible outcomes.

Visions of Clint being tortured or dead haunted you and the more time passed without word, the more graphic they got.

When you finally got in communication with Steve and he said they were headed back, everyone went straight to the landing pad and waited for the jet to come in.  When it finally landed and the back opened up to let the occupants out, only Steve and Thor climbed out.

“Where’s Clint?”  Natasha said, rushing up to them.

“Nat,” Steve said, gently, putting his hand on her shoulder.  “Maybe we should…”

“No,” she shouted.  “Where is he?  Tell me now!”

“He went missing,” Steve answered.  “We sent him out to get intel and he never came back.  Then we found out we’d been bugged so we couldn’t send word back here.  We thought it better to try and get him out immediately but when we finally tracked down their base, it  was deserted.”

“What?  Steve!  You should have told us right away!”  Natasha shouted.  She looked ready to tear someone apart and she just wasn’t sure if she should start with Thor or Steve.

“Natasha,” Thor soothed.  “We did what we thought was best…”

“You thought wrong!”  Natasha shouted.

Bucky moved to her quickly.  “Don’t worry, Tasha.  It’s Clint.  We’ll get him back.”

You just stood there in silence.  All the worst thoughts you had had while they had been gone had come true and you felt like you’d been hit by a truck.  You wanted to say something you just weren’t sure whether that thing was to get angry like Natasha was, comfort her and tell her it would be okay, or just break down and cry.

“Let’s go in,” Steve said.  “We have a lot to talk about and we need to make plans for a rescue mission.”

Everyone started to move in the direction of the main building and you went to move after them.  As you took a step, the world started to spin around you and turn on its head.  As everything turned black you heard someone scream your name.

There was a beeping.  It was incessant and annoying and you wished it would stop, but you couldn’t quite seem to be able to open your eyes to see where it was coming from.

Wherever you were, it smelled like antiseptic, and it was too cold.  Your throat hurt, and your mouth was dry and you were panicked but you didn’t know why.  Someone said your name and you snapped your head into their direction and pried your eyes open.  Your eyelids felt heavy and you only managed to keep them open long enough to see Jake, one of the doctors from the medbay.

“Dorogáya?”

Natasha’s voice sounded panicked and terrified.  You turned in the direction that it came from and forced your eyes open again.  You were crying and you didn’t know why, but Natasha sat beside you with a wild look in her eyes.

“Nat?”  You said, your voice hoarse and gravelly.  “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jake answered.  “Landed pretty heavily.  Your powers seem to be impeded…”

Panic rushed through you and you tried to sit up.  Jake and one of the nurses held you back down as you thrashed under them.  “The baby?  Is she okay?  Natasha?”

“Shh… it’s okay.  The baby’s okay,” Jake soothed.  “You need to relax.”

“She’s okay?”  You said, laying back down and putting your hands on your stomach.

“Yes, at the moment,” he said.  “But… you fainted and you landed badly.  Your powers seemed to have helped you and the baby, but not as much as they usually seem to.  Your blood pressure is very high which shouldn’t be happening.  We think that’s why you fainted.  Your body is also not fighting the cannula, which it always does, we normally have to keep moving it, just to stop your skin healing around the thing.  Have you taken anything?  Eaten anything unusual?”

You shook your head.  Things were still fuzzy and picking through your memories was like walking through a fog.  You couldn’t remember eating anything unusual.  You’d been with Natasha all day.

“Try to remember,” Jake said.  “If we can’t get to the bottom of this we might have to just get that baby out.”

You started crying again and looked at Natasha.  “It’s too early.  Nat… Nat… Clint’s not…”

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.  Clint was missing.  Possibly dead.  The machines around you started beeping louder and an alarm began to sound.  “What are we going to do about Clint?”  You babbled, completely ignoring the frantic way the medical staff was moving around you.  “Nat, Nat… we have to go and get him back.”

“You can’t do anything, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed, though her voice was shaking slightly.  “My darling, calm down.”

There was a pinch in your arm like something bit you and you looked over to see something being injected into your arm.  The mental fog you were suffering from deepened and you sunk back into bed as your muscles all seemed to relax.  The machines all calmed down again and you closed your eyes.

“What happened?  What did you do to her?”  Natasha snapped.

“Agent Romanoff, you need to calm down,” Jake said.  “It was a sedative.  It’s safe for both her and the baby.  Because of her powers, it’s really hard to say what exactly is going on right now, but given that her blood pressure has shot up at the mention of Agent Barton, and the original incident happened when Captain Rogers and Thor returned without him, I’m going to assume this is an extreme stress reaction.”

“Nat,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly from side to side.  “We have to get him.  He’s gotta be a dad.”

“I know.  But I can’t leave you,” she said, pain dripping from her voice.

“I’ll go,” you tried to push yourself up, but Jake easily pushed you back down.

“If you can’t lie still, I’m going to strap you down,” he warned.

“Is that really necessary?”  Natasha snapped.

“I don’t think you understand how dire this is, Agent Romanoff,” Jake warned.  “She’s not quite thirty-five weeks yet.  If we can’t keep her blood pressure down we’re going to have to do an emergency c-section.  Do you think that’s even possible given her power?  Because I don’t.”

Tears began to run down your cheeks even with the sedative making you so disconnected from your emotions.  “I’m sorry, Nat.”

She dabbed at your forehead with a cool compress and kissed your cheek.  “I’ll figure it out, dorogáya.  We’ll get Clint back and the baby is going to be fine.”

It was hard to tell under the influence of the sedative but Natasha sounded panicked and you forced your eyes open again to look at her.  “Nat… Nat… he might need me.”

“Of course he does,” she whispered.  “But you need to relax and take care of his daughter.  I’ll get him… I don’t want to leave you, but if I can just…”

“I’ll go.”

You lifted your head and looked over to where the familiar voice had come from.  You were much more out of it than you thought because it took a moment for your eyes to adjust and for the realization that Kate was standing in the doorway.

“Did Steve tell you to go?”  Natasha asked.

“I volunteered,” Kate said.  “Think about it, Natasha.  I know him better than anyone, except maybe you two.  I know how he thinks. I know his moves.  I’m the best person to do it.  Wanda’s coming too.  Cap and Thor as well so we can pick up the trail.”

Natasha shook her head.  “Katie, I think I should…”

“No, Nat,” Kate said firmly.  “You stay here and look after your girlfriend and your daughter.  I’ll get him back.”

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room without waiting for a reply.  Natasha watched the space where Kate had been standing for a little while, looking like she was lost in thought.  Her brows were knitted together and she was frowning slightly.

She snapped out of it quickly and turned her attention back to you.  “Okay, dorogáya,” she soothed.  “You heard Katie, you rest up.  She’s bringing Clint home.”

You nodded and curled into her, letting her hold you as the sedative pulled you down into sleep while you wept by her side.

// NEXT

[madamewriterofwrongs]

can i prompt: "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” for buddie? <33

Alicia! I meant to write something sweet and funny and instead, I wrote this. Regardless, I hope you enjoy <3

This, I Promise You

911/Buddie, 6k

“Eddie? Can you hear me?” Checking his best friend’s pulse, while constantly looking outside the grocery store window for the approaching ambulance, was not how he expected to spend his Thursday evening.

He had intended to take Eddie shopping for ingredients to make homemade spaghetti and meatballs. Instead, Buck had watched in horror as his partner collapsed in the dairy aisle, curling into his right side and only able to speak in pained groans.

Much later, he would feel grateful for his minimal medical training taking over his body while his mind swirled in panic but in the moment, the only thing that mattered was figuring out what was taking the ambulance so damn long.

“Just keep breathing, okay?” His fingers lightly brushed Eddie’s side and the man cried out louder, pulling Buck away from his work. He recoiled at the thought of hurting his friend in any way but there were so many other problems to deal with in the moment. What was happening to him? Where was the ambulance? What would he tell Christopher if Eddie died on his watch? The boy would never forgive him.

“Sir,” Buck jumped to his feet when a gloved hand touched his shoulder, watching from a panicked distance as the paramedics made their quick assessment that Eddie was safe to travel, and carefully lifted him onto the stretcher. All the while, Eddie continued his chorus of grunts and groans, fully-formed words having left his vocabulary entirely.

Buck opted to drive his jeep behind the ambulance (better to give them space to work, he reasoned), ignoring the selfish guilt in his stomach that somehow, he’d caused Eddie’s malady. He chose, instead, to focus his energy on calling Carla to bring Christopher to the hospital, then to inform Bobby of what little he knew, and finally, he called his sister. Second to his best friend, he needed someone to keep him calm with logic and a warm hug. Who better than the former nurse?

He would never tell Athena how he was nearly on par with the speeding ambulance on their way to the hospital, but he met them as they were wheeling him inside.

“Eddie?” He called to the man as he watched the pale form being wheeled past.

A nurse with a familiar stature to Maddie raised her hand to stop him with a firm tone. “Sir, you have to wait here.”

“But” he couldn’t leave Eddie alone now. What if something happened to him?

Again, the nurse stopped him. “If you give your and your friend’s information to the nurse over there, he’ll keep you updated, okay?” Her words were patient and gentle but left no room for argument. With one last glance at his friend disappearing behind the swinging doors, Buck turned towards the check-in desk. He was fully prepared to stand there until any new information came in, even if it took all night (which he sincerely hoped it didn’t).

That was exactly how Maddie found him when she hurried into the waiting area, operator’s uniform hidden under her sweater to accommodate the turning season. In fact, Buck wasn’t able to acknowledge her presence until two hands physically halted his mission to dig a trench in the hospital floor and he finally faced his sister.

“Any news on Eddie?”

She gently guided her brother to the nearest chair, only to press a hand into his leg when it began to shake with anxiety.

“Not yet. They took him back half an hour ago, why haven’t they figured out what’s wrong with him?”

“It could be such a simple diagnosis that they’re seeing to him right now.” Even if her words were just platitudes, they brought Buck a modicum of comfort to have another voice in his ear other than the one currently rambling about the worst-case scenarios. “What happened?”

“We were picking up groceries for dinner and he just collapsed.” Were he not in complete distress, he might have noticed the odd doubletake of his sister’s expression as his words set in. “He’s been hiding pain in his side for a few days, I thought he just pulled something at work and didn’t want to call out. Maddie, what if I didn’t say anything and now it’s only gotten worse?”

“Eddie’s a big boy,” she reminded him with no small amount of humor in her voice. “he can make his own decisions. If this is an untreated injury, then he’ll just have to deal with the consequences. But I have a feeling it’s nothing that serious.”

“That serious? Maddie, he collapsed in the grocery store. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t speak. How is that not serious?”

“By the way, since when did you and Eddie go grocery shopping together?” The blush in his cheek seemed to blossom instantaneously. “That’s very domestic of you.”

“Shut up.” Even Buck was unimpressed with his feeble attempt at indignation, too stressed to care much for appearances. “We were just picking up a few things so I could cook vegan spaghetti and meatballs for Christopher.”

“Where is Christopher?”

In all his pacing, Buck have never once forgotten about the little one’s imminent arrival. Facing the younger Diaz was the thing he seemed to be dreading the most in this entire ordeal. All the ways it could go wrong, all the ways he could fail that kid; it lingered in the air, refusing to offer a modicum of reprieve.

“Carla’s on her way with him. I really wanted an answer before they got here, though.” Having answers meant having hope and with hope on his side, maybe he could face those innocent grey eyes.

“I think you’re about to get it.” With Maddie’s assistance, he rose from his chair to face the approaching nurse he’d met earlier.

“Mr. Buckley.” He was too numb to feel her hand even as he shook it but he had a vague recollection of nodding in greeting. “You’re Mr. Diaz’s emergency contact, correct?” Again, he nodded as Maddie introduced herself to the other woman. “It’s a good thing you were with Mr. Diaz when he collapsed. It appears his appendix ruptured and if he had been alone, there could have been complications.”

All Buck heard was the crackling of static as the implications of her commendation sank in. “But, he’s okay, right?” She’d said it could have led to complications, that meant there weren’t any. Then where was Eddie?

“He will be. We’re prepping him for surgery as we speak but Mr. Diaz is heavily medicated, so we need your consent to move ahead.”

Wait, surgery? Surgery wasn’t safe. Surgery didn’t mean that everything was all right.

“Why-why does he need surgery?”

He saw more than felt Maddie’s hand on his arm. “They have to remove his appendix, Buck. It’s a very routine procedure, I promise.”

Of course, he trusted his sister, but that didn’t stop him from asking every question about the surgery that came to mind – even some he might consider irrational or fear-inducing under other circumstances. But these weren’t other circumstances. This was Eddie’s life. He needed to make sure his friend was safe above all else.

Thank goodness for Maddie, who gently pinched his bicep when he tried to ask for the credentials of the anesthesiologist, effectively drawing his attention to the impatient expression of the nurse before him.

“Sorry, yeah, you can go forward with the surgery.” He sheepishly signed his consent on the dotted line, even as his sister rolled her eyes at his hyperactive antics.

“Thank you, Mr. Buckley.” The other woman seemed to have the same expression on her face (though more professionally masked behind her clipboard. “Now, your friend has been very frantically asking for you so would you like to see him before we”

“Yes.” He cried with nearly too much enthusiasm, earning a startled jolt from the nurse who turned back towards the triage rooms without waiting for him. “Sorry, yes, I’m coming.”

Without looking back at Maddie, Buck pushed through the swinging doors Eddie had disappeared behind less than an hour earlier, his eyes immediately searching for his friend. Thankfully for the nurse’s sanity, Eddie’s room was the second on the left and already open for them to step through (lest she be forced to endure any more of Buck’s fidgeting demeanor.

The moment Buck’s eyes found Eddie’s, the room grew a degree brighter.

“Buck!” The firefighter cried. “You made it. I was worried you would miss it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy.” Buck grinned on his way to Eddie’s side, careful to stay out of the way as the other attendants continued their preparation work, but standing as close as physically possible. “How are you feeling?”

In lieu of answering his question, Eddie stared unblinking at the man before him. “Your eyes are like the ocean.”

Ignoring the smirks from the staff around him, Buck shook his head with nothing but fondness in his smile. “I’m going to remind you that you said that once you’re sober enough to be embarrassed about it.”

“Thanks, Buck.” The sincerity in the other man’s voice was nearly comical. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?”

“After everything you’ve put me through today, I better be your best friend.” He congratulated himself on his ability to make light of one of the most stressful days of his life (disregarding the times when his own life was in peril). “And we’re going to have a serious talk about you hiding things from me, too, young man.”

At this, Eddie seemed to grow paler as his eyes grew innocently wide. “How did you know?”

“The nurse told me, dummy.” He resisted the urge to sweep a stray hair from his friend’s face, but promptly surrendered under the reasoning that this may be his only opportunity. “You can’t keep scaring me like this.”

It was almost precious to see the grown man shrink into the pillows with a doe-eyed apology in his red eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get hurt but I do it a lot, don’t I?” As Eddie fell into some sort of high contemplation, Buck gave one last glance over his friend’s features. Beyond a small reddening on the side of his face, he appeared to have no outward injuries from his fall. As for his insides – Buck hoped his unending questions were enough to sooth his anxiety but they hadn’t dissipated them completely.  

“No more than the rest of us, Eddie. The doctor will fix you right up and you’ll be back at the station within a week.”

“Two.” He caught his new favourite nurse’s voice as she rolled her eyes.

“One and a half.” He countered, only to be met with another definitive expression (was that a part of their medical school training?). “Two it is.”

“What if I get hurt again?” Eddie’s voice cut through the light air and pulled Buck back to his side.

“Maybe the staff will give us some sort of discount if we come in so many times in a year.” On more than one occasion, Buck had jokingly tried to bargain with the accounting department about some sort of punch card – and the fact that he’d an opportunity to make his horrible joke several times had not escaped his notice. “You’ll be okay. Just like you always are.”

“But what happens if I’m not?” That doomful thought had also crossed his mind but he’d struggled to keep it at bay. And now Eddie was staring up at him and no matter his own fears, he couldn’t let that sadness and fear take up residence on his friend’s face for any longer.

“I promise, everything will be all right, okay? You’ll have this surgery and then you’ll never have to worry about your appendix ever again.”

“I know the mortality rates on an appendectomy, Buck, there’s still a chance.” Even high as a kite, Eddie was still so smart. He was quick on his feet and calm under pressure in a way Buck wished he could emulate.

The trouble was: Buck also knew the mortality rates (having grilled the nurse on all possible complications, no matter how outlandish). “I know the numbers too, Eddie. You’re more likely to die in a skiing accident.”

“I would hope so.” The man scoffed.

Buck made a mental note to renew his statistics knowledge so he could win the next argument.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

When Eddie grabbed his wrist, he was thankful his heart wasn’t the one being monitored. “Buck, I need you to make a serious promise to me.”

Even without the urgency in his friend’s voice, the firefighter would have agreed to anything. “Of course.”

“If anything happens to me, I need you to look after Christopher for me.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, Eddie continued. “He looks up to you and I know you’ll do everything you can to look after him.” Nothing that the man said was new information for Buck and yet every word sliced through the sudden fog around his mind with sudden clarity. “And don’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas. He belongs here with you, okay?” When Buck didn’t answer right away, Eddie squeezed his wrist tighter. “Promise me?”

“I promise, Eddie.”

Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t be taking any of Eddie’s demands at face value, as he was under heavy pain medication and anesthetics. He had no control over what he was saying and yet it all rang true to the Eddie he knew – if a little more slurred and enthusiastic.

“You really are such a good friend, you know that?” As the man continued his speech, the attendants began to hook his stretcher to be wheeled into the hallway. Buck followed steadfast behind the group as he listened intently. “I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years. You’re kind and loyal and smart and beautiful. If I was going to marry someone again, I’d want to marry you. You’re amazing, don’t ever forget that.”

As the doors opened to where Buck could no longer follow, Eddie called out: “Buck, I love you.”

Before the words could fully register amidst the other ramblings, the surgery doors had closed and Buck was left in an empty hallway that echoed with every unspoken word suddenly flooding to the surface. What had Eddie meant by that? Why had he said it at all? He couldn’t wait however long the surgery took before he got his answers.

“Wait!” He feebly called to the door, knowing even in that moment, he couldn’t cross over just to question a man most likely unconscious from the drugs by this point. What was he meant to do with his hands? Did his legs function on their own without him consciously moving one foot and then the other? Was he currently breathing? The air was too stale to take a reasonable breath, he needed space in order for his mind to spiral properly.

“Buck? What did Eddie say?” When had he returned to the waiting area to face Maddie? How did she know that Eddie had said anything? Right; Eddie had been asking for him.

“He, uh, he asked me to look after Christopher.”

Buck passed by his sister’s nodding head on his way to the exit doors, hoping the late afternoon air would provide some much-needed clarity from his overwhelming mental journey. The world outside the hospital walls was a creamy orange as the thinnest traces of the setting sun began to pierce the sky. A soft breeze blew just enough to remind him that the world still turned despite the numbness in his fingers.

Before his legs could attempt to buckle from underneath him, he found a small concrete wall surrounding some barely tended shrubbery and let himself collapse against it. His head fell naturally into his hands as he reminded himself to take one deep breath and then another. Another breath came and again and again until he felt the ground beneath his feet and the denim against his elbows and the sweat in his hair once again.

Eddie’s in surgery now.

Eddie’s in surgery and he asked you to look after Christopher if anything happened to him.

Eddie’s in surgery and he said he loved you.

Eddie was also incredibly high on medication and wasn’t acting entirely himself despite the similarities in his speech. They weren’t things he’d even imagine his friend to say out loud, but he knew them to be true.

Except for the part where he said he loved you.

Admittedly, that was the part that stuck with him. More than his faux deathbed confession to care for his son, more than his ramblings about Buck’s qualities. The simple admission that his feelings for the man went beyond friendship, threatened to bring back the swirling mind and tingling fingertips.

Eddie will be okay and then you can talk to him about it once he’s recovered.

Or you could just never talk about it and see if he forgets.

Do you want him to forget about it?

What do you want to say back?

“Eddie’s going to be okay.” Buck snapped to attention, looking at his sudden companion with a smile that seemed to grow of its own accord.

“I know, Carla. It’s a common procedure and he’s come back from worse.” Of course, worse had been getting shot in Afghanistan, but this was nothing compared to the trials he’d endured there. In terms of Eddie’s canon of injures, this particular incident was hardly worth noting.

With the exception of one, distinct, admission.

“Then what’s got that pretty face all screwed up?”

He opened his mouth to tell his friend the same thing he’d told Maddie, only to catch the thing missing in his life just in time. “Where’s Christopher?”

“Inside with your sister. She asked me to check on you.” There were many reasons Buck could name as to why he loved his sister, and he added another to his list. “So, if it’s not Eddie, what is it?”

Without needed words exchanged between them, Buck shuffled over to allow room for his friend to sit beside him. Perhaps there was another solution to his dilemma that he’d never considered before.

“It is Eddie but it’s not about the surgery. Well it is about the surgery but not the” Buck took a deep breath to steady his rambling mind and it marginally worked. “I’m not worried about his physical health.” His mental health, perhaps. How can he love me?

“What did he tell you?” The confusion must have been evident on his face because Carla supplied the answer. “Maddie said you went in to see Eddie and when you came back you looked like you were going hurl – her words, not mine.” He smiled at that. “What did Eddie say to you that got you so twisted?”

Four words. Not large for a statement but grand in stature and bewilderingly unsettling.

“He told me he loved me.”

“Oh.” Carla blinked in surprise, but he saw no disgust or apprehension, which he knew would be absent from the woman who’d known them both for the entirety of their friendship. Of the people in his Los Angeles family, she was the only person he might consider to be closer to Eddie simply because she had a different relationship with the man. There was something about Carla that had always put him at ease, and one night spent lying awake and missing the home he’d left behind many years ago, he realized the thing he loved about Carla was also the thing he loved about Eddie: no matter their dynamic or status, there was trust and respect and kindness. She might call it ‘being damn good at her job’ but Buck hadn’t called Carla all those years ago because she was the best in-home care worker he’d even known (not that he’d known too many in his time), he’d called because he trusted her with something important that he couldn’t do on his own.

Perhaps he could trust her again.

“I just wasn’t expecting him to say it when he was being wheeled into the operating room.”

“But you were expecting him to say it?”

He opened his mouth to protest, cursing his own subconscious, but a gently impatient look from the woman next to him silenced those thoughts. “I think maybe I was but I didn’t realize until it happened. Like, I’ve never thought about Eddie as anything other than my…” Suddenly, calling him his ‘friend’ didn’t seem like enough. “Eddie.”

“Well your Eddie just laid his cards on the table, it seems.” He had the horrifying realization that he would never escape that particular tease for some time. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Buck had been asking that very question since Carla found him and yet he still hadn’t come up with an answer. “What if he didn’t mean it? Or what if he meant it as a friend? Or what if he forgets? Or what if he didn’t mean to say it now and he’s not ready?”

“Honey, I’m going to say something I don’t think you hear enough.” She placed a firm hand on his shoulder to ground him into silence. “Stop thinking so much and just do something.”

Buck had, in fact, never heard that command uttered in the context of himself before in his entire life. If anything, he’d spent most of his career being constantly reminded to do the exact opposite. He knew reminding her of that would only earn him an eye roll and maybe a light smack on the arm, but she cut him off before he could consider if it would be worth it.

“I’m serious. Don’t think for one second and just tell me the first thing that comes to mind.

Run.

“Do you love Eddie?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

Something warm and heavy settled in the front of his chest, spreading across his sternum like a blanket. Freedom, he realized, freedom and hope and contentment. He wasn’t as afraid of those words as he probably should have been.

“Would Eddie ever intentionally hurt you?”

“Never.”

More truth spilled from his lips as Carla questioned him and the warmth spread into his shoulders and curled down his back.

“Would he ever lie in order to lead you on, or in any way hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to have meant it?”

“Yes.”

“If the two of you were together, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“We break up and I have to change stations and he never lets me see Christopher again.”

“What’s the best thing that could happen?”

“Everything.”

Upon his confession, he saw the same surprise on Carla’s face that she’d worn earlier: no judgement or hint at foreknowledge. Pure, quiet, realization.

“Oh you love him, love him.” He hadn’t realized it until she’d said it out loud – and part of him felt ridiculous for connecting with such a childish explanation – but it was as true as anything else he’d said in the safety of their stone wall. “You can’t keep that thing bottled inside. If there’s even a chance that he feels the same, you have to go for it.”

Easier said than done. “But what if”

“No buts, Evan Buckley.” He shut his mouth at her command. “When that boy is out of surgery, you are going to tell him that you love him, too. Do you understand me?” It was almost surreal to think of such a tender moment being turned into a threat, but he nodded with panicked fervor. “Good. And no talking yourself out of it between now and then, either. You’re telling that boy tonight or I will drag you into his hospital room and lock the door until you do. Although you’re more than welcome to lock the door yourself once you’ve made your confession. No pulling his stitches, though.”

Buck had no idea his skin to blush that shade of red, but as images of all the reasons he might need to lock him and Eddie inside a room for privacy tumbled through his mind, he felt his entire body boil over from the heat.

“Carla!” He admonished with a smirk.

“Honey, if I looked half as good as either of you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold out as long as you both have. Honestly, your resistance is impressive.” He would never tire of her honest commentary (she hadn’t been the first to notice Eddie’s quote ‘perfect bone structure’, but she was the first to say it out loud).

“And I think you’ve both earned a little happiness, don’t you?” That same honesty could hit him with just as much depth. Her talent was startling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Damn right, you would.” She bumped his shoulder to pull a smile from within his nervous, terrified, hopeful body. “Now, are you going to be okay for the next few hours or do I need to bring your sister out here to give you another pep talk?”

Oh god, how would he explain this to Maddie without being mercilessly teased at their wedding reception? Slow your roll, there, Buckley (his inner thoughts sounded strangely like Bobby). Get through the night and see if you both make it to a first date. “I think I’ll be okay.”

And after saying it so many times in his life, Buck meant it in a rare burst of honesty that settled in his bones. Granted, he was still terrified out of his mind – because telling someone that they make the sun shine brighter for the very first time was never an easy task – but no matter the outcome, he knew he would be okay.

“Thanks, Carla.”

“Thank me by inviting me to the wedding.” As if she weren’t already near the top of his guest list.

--

It was to Eddie’s great shame that waking up in the hospital following his emergency appendectomy felt painless. The first time he’d opened his eyes completely, two very patient nurses had asked his questions while examining him with clinical precision. It was nothing he hadn’t experienced over and over in his time. The second time he’d opened his eyes, there were no nurses or questions; in fact, from the light outside the window in the open hallway, he would guess it to be early in the morning (despite the distinct lack of change inside the building. He had, unfortunately grown accustomed to opening his eyes to the harsh overhead lighting and constant yet distant noise of the machines. The post-pain-med-hangover was a distant memory, and the only sign that anything in his life had changed was a slight soreness in his side where he’d no doubt have another scar to add to his ever-growing collection.

That, and the hand squeezing his as he returned to consciousness. But feeling Buck by his side was not a sign that anything had changed. If anything, it was confirmation that he had returned to the land of the living.

He would save his questions of how he knew Buck’s hand from anyone else’s for another time. Or perhaps never (though if he were honest with himself, the concept of ‘never’ hurt his heart worse than the idea of ‘not you’). Right now, he focused on looking at the eyes which owned the hand massaging his knuckle just below the heart monitor attached to his finger. If he focused on his breathing, maybe the machine wouldn’t pick up on the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Buck’s smiling face.

“Hey Bu-”

“I love you.”

There was no mistaking the sudden drop and double count on the monitor, but all Eddie could hear were Buck’s words repeating over and over in some sort of recursive loop.

Maybe he was still dreaming.

“What?”

He missed their connection, but the way his partner shot up and began slowly pacing the length of his bed was more concerning. “I was going to lead up to it but then I saw your face, and Carla told me that if I didn’t tell you when you woke up, she would lock me in here and I panicked a little.” His explanation was only mildly helping Eddie’s nerves, but he accepted what little context was provided. Something about Carla.

Okay, so he needed more information.

“Carla made you say that?” But why? Was this some sort of pity confession, or fear for his safety? She had been encouraging him to start dating again but coercing his best friend was a bit much.

“Yes. No.” Buck stopped and restarted his pacing every time his train of thought shifted tracks and frankly, Eddie wasn’t nearly awake enough to understanding what was going on.

“Buck, sit down, okay? Tell me from the beginning.”

As easily as though he’d made his own decision, Buck obeyed Eddie’s command and flopped into the seat – though he didn’t retake his friend’s hand, a fact from which Eddie attempted to hide his disappointment. With a long breath, Buck began his speech while Eddie watched his changing expressions with increasing awe.

“I don’t know how much you remember about yesterday or what you said before you went into surgery. I know you were pretty out of it from the pain meds and anesthesia but you said some things.”

Oh god, Eddie prayed for more anesthesia so he could go back to sleep and wake up in a world where he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He had no idea what those things were that he’d apparently said to Buck but from his demeanor the instant Eddie laid eyes on him, he knew it must have been something big.

“You asked me to look after Christopher if anything happened to you.”

Oh? That wasn’t too bad. “I meant that. I trust you.” If that was all he’d said, there was nothing to be worried about. He would have asked that of Buck regardless. It just made sense at this point. “Just promise you wouldn’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas, okay? His home is here, now.”

Buck’s blush was awfully adorable in the sharp, white light (perhaps not all of the medication had worn off). “You, uh, you told me that, too.”

“Okay good, I mean it. We can make it official if you want? Sign the paperwork and everything.” He should take a look at his will anyways. He hadn’t had a chance to adjust it since before Shannon’s death and some things had definitely changed. Was that why Buck looked so anxious: he didn’t know how to ask Eddie for guardianship? That was an easy fix. So far, nothing had come up to explain what had prompted the sudden confession or Carla’s involvement.

“We could?”

“Of course.” He shrugged, careful of his wiring and newly acquired stitching. “I told you: there’s no one I trust more with my son than you.” He’d meant it then and, if anything, that belief had only grown with time.

“What about your heart?”

The one currently alerting the nurse’s station that it was beating uncontrollably? That heart?

“What about it?”

“Do you trust me with your heart more than anyone?”

“Buck, wha-”

“You also said,” Buck seemed to be powering through now, regardless of anything Eddie wanted to say. “You also said that if you were going to marry anyone else, it would be me.” Oh god. “And you said that you love me.” Oh god. “Did you mean it?” Oh. God.

The truth of it was that Eddie didn’t remember anything between experiencing a pain in his side as they walked into the grocery store and waking up to the two nurses hovering over him. He’d guessed it was a problem with his appendix but like many unpleasant things, he’d put off making an appointment too long and it had apparently come to bite him in the ass in the worst (and most expensive) way possible.

And on top of that, his subconscious mind was punishing him by letting slip the confession he’d been rolling around on his tongue for months.

Great.

He’d realized he was in love with Buck one night when they had been on an endless shift with too many calls involving high stakes and stupid people. He was beyond exhausted and frustrated, and every emotion seemed to take up residence in his shoulder muscles. Finally, they’d been freed to go home to their loved ones, except because of the late hour, his loved one was sleeping over with his friends. So, Eddie had no one to go home to – a fact which he had resigned himself to long ago – when he felt a familiar hand clap his back and, with a simple nod of his head, Buck invited him over for pizza and video games. And just like that: Eddie wasn’t alone any more. And just like that: Eddie realized he loved Buck.

For months, he’d wrestled over the depth of his emotions for the man currently watching his every expression. Was it just a crush born out of proximity? Was it a physical attraction coupled with a close friendship which would mean a less than successful romantic relationship? Was it loneliness and desperation? Was it a forever kind of love? Did it have to be in order to mean something important?

It had taken time, but eventually Eddie had come to the conclusion that Buck was more than a fling and worth more than mere physical attraction (though the man had been making frequent visits to his dreams of late and many of them involved the need to wash his sheets in the morning).

He was beginning to contemplate the notion of possibly thinking about telling Buck how he felt, when his appendix decided to do it for him. And now here was Buck, looking him in the eyes – those eyes that were like the ocean in a storm – to ask him if he’d meant it when he’d said that he loved him, despite not remembering making that very significant confession.

And on top of that: Buck’s first words in response to that very significant confession, was to tell Eddie that he loved him. Because of Carla. Somehow.

“Why did Carla make you say…what you said?” Dare he get his hopes up? Dare he allow himself to believe that the things Buck said were said in earnest?

“She didn’t make me say it, I wanted to say it, but she told me if I chickened out when you woke up, she would lock me in here until I did.” If anyone asked him the colour of the sky, he would have no earthly idea what the sky even was. The only thought that existed in his mind were five words.

“You wanted to say it?”

Buck’s cheeks really did turn a lovely shade of pink when he was flustered. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanted to say it. And I wanted to hear you say it. Just not when you were being wheeled into surgery.”

“It wasn’t how I planned on saying it, either.” He muttered his confession despite barely regaining consciousness from losing all other thought.

“But you meant it?”

Buck reiterated the question Eddie had yet to answer because it felt like reaching a door that would disappear once opened. But wasn’t that the real question: did he want to open the door?

“Yes.”

The smile on his partner’s face was warm enough to soothe the cool remnants of their parted hands, and Eddie felt his own expression soften and expand from just the sight of the other man’s joy.

“Good.” Buck whispered. “I love you, too. By the way.”

If laughter didn’t threaten to pull his stitches, he would have joined in the bubbling happiness that filled the room. Instead, he resigned himself to watching the man he loved – the man who loved him back – relax into their shared knowledge that things would be all right between them.

Not that he ever truly worried. Things with Buck weren’t always easy but they always found that world again: one where they were both too frightened to speak their hearts and minds, but the universe brought them together anyways.

Grocery store appendectomies were decidedly not on his list of ways to confess his love. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

hiding

prompt: hidden

whumpee: shawn spencer

fandom: psych

hi! sorry for being absent for 2 days and then coming back with a fic that i think might suck? idk. i have been looking at it for too long i think... maybe you will like it? idk. i hope so tho :) 

Shawn has chased more than one old man down the streets of Santa Barbara. Today’s pursuit is no different to the others - or at least, it isn’t until he finally catches up with the old dude in question (who, just for the record, is the fastest seventy year old Shawn has ever encountered). 

They’re in an alley, and the other end is blocked off by several feet of chain link fence. This old guy may be speedy, but he’s evidently not much of a climber. Which is good. 

“Took you long enough to catch up with me,” he says, his creaky-sounding old-man voice taunting and a little demeaning. 

But his statement is fair. As is evidenced by the fact that Shawn is panting hard, bent slightly at the waist with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. 

“But I did catch you,” Shawn says after a second, straightening back up. “And now I’m going to have to call the police.”

“I don’t think so.”

Shawn is about to say something dazzlingly witty in response, but all of a sudden there’s a glint of silver and then…

Then he’s just been stabbed by someone who probably eats his dinner at 4:30. 

It takes him by such surprise that he doesn’t even make a noise.  

And then it hurts. Hot and blinding and sharp and intense pain radiates outward from his stomach and the knife is pulled out and it hurts even more and he feels his body collapse but doesn’t register hitting the ground. There are stars in his vision and everything is blurry and the world sounds like he’s underwater and it hurts and hurts and hurts and he looks upwards as the old man casually wipes Shawn’s blood from the knife with the sleeve of his dark jacket. He idly passes the knife from hand to hand and Shawn watches him and he really wants to just get up and punch him and he staggers to his feet amidst a haze of bright red pain and then there’s a familiar voice from behind him saying, “drop your weapon,” and Lassiter has found them, somehow. He’s never been more grateful to hear the man’s voice in his life. 

“How did you find me?” he asks, before he can stop himself. He knows what he should probably be saying is, hey, I just got stabbed and maybe we should be doing something about that, but then Lassie’s explaining how he’d tracked Shawn down and he’s asking what exactly Shawn had been thinking going after a suspect alone, and then Shawn just kind of…doesn’t bring it up. 

It’s not like he doesn’t try to. But Lassie is more interested in lecturing him about proper police procedure (which Shawn is familiar with - he simply chooses to disregard it). 

“Lassie, um, I -” I got stabbed and it hurts really bad and could we maybe go to the hospital, please?

“I don’t wanna hear it, Spencer.”

“But -”

“If you don’t shut up right now, I swear I’ll pull over and make you walk. That man had a knife, and you chased after him because, what? You couldn’t…”

Lassie keeps lecturing him about why this was such a stupid idea (which, Shawn admits, it was). Shawn sighs to himself as the lecture goes on and on, which is a bad move, because it jostles his stab wound, and it takes all of his willpower to not just scream at the flare of white hot pain. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe normally but everything hurts and the whole front of his shirt is wet and sticking to his skin and he wonders vaguely whether he’s bleeding on Lassie’s seat, and hopes fervently that he’s not, because Lassiter will never forgive him if he ruins his upholstery. 

After what feels like an eternity of driving, they arrive back at the police station. Shawn feels tired, and lightheaded, and he knows that’s bad. And they’re here now, so Lassie can’t force him to get out of the car and walk, so he decides to try and bring it up again. 

“I think I’ve -” I think I’ve been stabbed, well, I know I’ve been stabbed, and I don’t wanna die but I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a lot of blood and it might be nice to do something about that. 

But Lassie is already out of the car, opening the backseat and leading their cuffed suspect inside the building. Halfway up the steps, he turns around. Shawn is still in the car, and Lassie makes a gesture for him to hurry it up and follow them. 

Shawn steels himself for the pain, then extricates himself from the passenger seat. It’s a painful ordeal, but thankfully, no one is there to hear his very pathetic whimpers. Once he’s out of the car, Shawn briefly turns around to check on his seat. Fortunately, it’s free of blood. He looks down at himself and sees that his clothes have not fared quite as well. 

His black shirt looks wet, but the blood isn’t visible, thanks to the shirt’s dark color. The blood does reach down to his jeans, though, turning the tops of the legs rusty red. The inside of his jacket is damp, but the blood hasn’t soaked through the material, so the exterior looks clean. Shawn tugs his shirt and jacket down to hide the bloodstains on his jeans, then begins his trek inside. 

The walk into the station is one of the most painful things Shawn has ever experienced in his life. The stairs are absolute hell on his wound, and he can feel more and more blood soaking through his shirt with every step he takes. He’s slowly but surely getting dizzy, and it’s getting harder and harder to focus, and he really needs to tell someone about this but he kind of doesn’t want to, now, for reasons he can’t quite fathom, and mostly he just wants to sleep. It hurts. 

Finally, he makes it inside the station. There’s an empty chair pulled up next to Lassiter’s currently-empty desk, and Shawn makes a very slow beeline for it. 

Sitting down is painful, but once he’s sitting, it’s infinitely more comfortable than standing or walking, and the pain lessens, just a bit. Shawn takes another look down at himself and sees, much to his alarm, drops of blood on the floor below him. The sight makes him feel even dizzier, and for a second he thinks he might pass out, and then he recalls what you’re supposed to do if you get stabbed (other than, you know, call an ambulance). 

Pressure. He is supposed to apply pressure to the wound. It’s going to hurt, surely, but what’s a little more pain? 

Again, Shawn has to fight to keep himself from screaming. Despite the intense pain, he keeps pressing his hands into his stomach, feeling the warm and wet and sticky fabric of his shirt. It’s the most unpleasant sensation in the world. His own blood soaking through his clothes and into his hands. He feels sick. Dizzy. Lightheaded. Confused. Afraid. 

He needs to tell somebody about this before he actually passes out. 

“Spencer? What’s wrong with you?” 

Shawn startles at Lassiter’s voice. He sounds…oddly concerned. Hesitantly, Shawn turns his head in Lassie’s direction. Tell him, his brain suggests. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted (again). 

“Are you…crying?”

Is he? Shawn raises a hand to his face and scrubs it under his eyes. 

“Is that blood?” Lassiter is all seriousness now, and Shawn looks down at his fingers and remembers what they’d been doing before he’d used them to wipe his face. They’re bright red and now that he sees the blood, he can feel it on his face, drying beneath his eyes. 

“What happened?”

“I got stabbed,” Shawn admits, finally. It’s such a relief to finally say the words, and he feels some of the tension leave his body. 

Oh. Maybe too much tension. He’s falling. 

Shawn’s body makes impact with the floor, and he can’t stop himself from crying out this time. For a second, everything is engulfed by a wave of pain that very nearly causes him to black out. 

When the pain clears up somewhat, Shawn’s vision returns, and Lassie is above him, shouting something at someone and Shawn can’t focus hard enough to determine what he’s saying or who he’s saying it to. His voice is loud and commanding but there’s a look of something akin to fear on his face and Shawn wonders if he is going to die. 

“Am I…” he starts, but halfway through the sentence he forgets what he’s going to say. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Lassiter says, and his voice sounds certain but that look is still on his face and it scares Shawn and he doesn’t want to die, not now, not like this…

Lassie must sense him spiraling, because suddenly he’s talking again. Shawn focuses on him as best as he can, catching bits and pieces of the things he’s saying. “I can’t believe you got stabbed and didn’t say a word about it…running after a known suspect…going to punish him to the full extent of the law…”

Lassie’s talking eventually fades away, and darkness starts creeping into the edges of his vision, and somewhere in the back of his mind Shawn thinks, that’s not good, and then the darkness sweeps over him and the pain goes away and he finally falls asleep. 

--

He wakes up and people are moving all around him, and he’s moving too, and he feels weird and he’s not exactly hurting but there’s some sort of strange sensation blanketing him and making it very hard to focus. He tries asking one of the people a question but his voice sounds muffled and he doesn’t know what he’s saying and then everything goes away again. 

--

The next time he wakes up, he is much more aware. He’s in a hospital, and there’s a teenage girl in the bed to his right and a middle-aged man in the bed to his left. There are various machines around him that he doesn’t care to inspect, and there are four chairs positioned around the bed. All of them are empty. 

He wonders where his visitors have gone. He wants to see Gus. And Jules. Maybe even his dad. He’d like to see Lassie, because he’s pretty sure the head detective had saved his life, but he doubts he’ll be here. He probably has much more important things to attend to. 

So it’s a surprise when, a few long minutes later, Lassie steps into the room. He’s distracted, phone to his ear, steaming cup in his hand, and there’s a spot of blood on his jacket and a few more on his shirt and Shawn realizes it’s his blood - who else’s can it be - and if that’s true then either he’s recovered from surgery remarkably quickly, or Lassie has been here for several hours and hasn’t left. Both seem improbable, and yet…

When he’s made it halfway across the room, Lassie finishes his call and tucks his phone back into his pocket. He looks up at Shawn for the first time, and the dark expression on his face clears away when Shawn looks right back at him. 

“Hey, Lassie,” Shawn greets tiredly, waving carefully with the arm that doesn’t have an IV needle sticking into it. “How’s it going?”

Lassie looks briefly like he wants to strangle Shawn for asking such a stupid question, but then he sighs and sinks down into one of the chairs, apparently resigning himself to answer the question. 

“It’s going fine,” he says. “I’m not the one who got stabbed and then failed to tell anyone about it.”

“I tried,” Shawn admits. “You interrupted me. And then you weren’t there and I just…didn’t want to tell anyone.”

A look of guilt crosses Lassiter’s face. “I should have listened to you,” he says, which is an admission Shawn never thought he’d hear. He’d love to focus on it a little more, maybe tease Lassie for caring or possibly even keep the conversation serious, but he’s tired. He feels his eyes start to drift closed and he yawns.

He’s about to ask Lassie if they can continue this conversation in a few hours when Lassie sighs and says, “just rest, Shawn. We can talk later, whenever you’re feeling up to it. I’ll be here.”

It’s the nicest thing Lassie has ever said to him. Shawn would like nothing more than to say something gently teasing about Lassie really caring about him after all, but he simply falls asleep instead.

thanks for reading this! sorry for any mistakes i am super tired lol. hope you enjoyed, love u <3

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings:  Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that. 

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it  to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?"  The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time.  I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

[banditthewriter]

Blue Healer - Tommy Shelby

Here is my second try at Tommy Shelby, roughly seven thousand words. Hopefully you like it!

Title is from the song Blue Healer by Birdtalker which is kind of the inspiration for this fic and definitely one of my favorite songs.

Warning: Please ignore my lack of 20s medical procedure expertise. I did some googling and took creative license with the rest! 

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

Birmingham was a change of pace. It was less of the hustle and bustle that you were used to from London and the places you had lived before. And there was something authentic in the way people lived their lives here. You didn’t see as much of the snobbery and distaste.

You found a small flat that you could afford on your salary once you found a job working at a local hospital. They needed nurses and you were trained. It paid well enough and between that and your savings, you were comfortable. 

A fresh start. It was long overdue.

There was an area that most of the people you met told you to stay away from. It was called Small Heath. Despite the name, the area was quite large. Factories upon factories, the area seemed to be the industrial part of Birmingham. 

When you asked why you should stay away from Small Heath, the answer was always the same. 

“The Peaky Blinders.”

You’d asked to have the term defined, but no one seemed willing. They took assurance that you wouldn’t wander into Small Heath and took that to mean that you didn’t need to know more. 

Despite your independence and freedom of will, you stayed away from Small Heath. Whatever the Peaky Blinders was or were, you were confident that you wouldn’t have any run ins as long as you stayed on your side of the city.

It was a good plan, if a little flawed. It never occurred to you that while you might stay on your side of the city, the same could not be said for the Peaky Blinders themselves.

About three months after you started at the hospital, you were in the office late one evening. It had somehow fallen to you to not only be a nurse, but to keep order of the medical records as well. This particular night, the doctor on call had left sometime after seven. The hospital had very few patients in the beds currently, so the building was manned by only a few attendants. And then there was you.

You preferred to be at the hospital instead of your flat. The flat was always quiet, unlike where you had grown up. Here there was always something that needed your attention.

While you sorted through the evening’s paperwork, you heard a loud commotion from the back entrance of the hospital. You stepped out into the hallway, curious and worried, when you saw a group of hard looking men wearing suits rush into the area. 

A man at the front of the group noticed you. He pointed at you with a hand covered in blood.

“Oi, nurse. Where’s the doctor?”

You swallowed nervously as you tried to fight the urge to back into the office once more.

“He’s… he went home. I can call him and get him here if he’s needed?”

There was a curse from behind him and you realized the men were carrying something. No, not something, someone. There was someone on a stretcher of some sort. One of the attendants had come rushing in at all the noise and went deadly pale before he rushed forward.

“Mr Shelby, the doctor is about twenty minutes away.”

The man, Mr Shelby, swore a streak at that.

“He hasn’t got twenty minutes. What about you, can you help him? He’s losing a lot of blood.”

The attendant was shaking so much that you doubted he’d be able to hold a scalpel even if he was trained to use it. You swallowed down your own nerves and gave yourself a shake. This wasn’t the time to be afraid to raise your voice.

“I’m trained,” you called as you put your paperwork down on the table, going into the hallway. “Do we need to go down to the OR?”

“No time,” someone behind them shouted. A second man dressed just as the first approached, his light blue eyes moving from Mr Shelby to you and the attendant. “Can you remove a bullet and stop the bleeding?”

A bullet? Goodness, were these gangsters?

“I can.”

The man surveyed you for a moment before he nodded, clapping Mr Shelby on the shoulder.

“Bring them both, it happens here.”

Mr Shelby grabbed the attendant’s arm, but you hurried forward before he tried to grab you. As you followed the second man, you tried not to observe him too closely. He walked with confidence and authority that you hadn’t seen since you left London. There was something that told you that he was in charge.

In the room the men had commandeered, there was a man spread out on a table, blood dripping down from his side onto the papers they hadn’t scattered before they set him down. He looked young… too young to be dying with a bullet in his side.

You pushed the sleeves of your blouse up and turned to the attendant who looked petrified. You nodded to a supply cart nearby.

“Here’s what I’ll need Andrew,” you began before you listed off the supplies you would need. “You don’t happen to know his blood type, do you?”

The attendant disappeared to the supply cart to make sure your materials were there. You looked around at the men in the room to get a response. When no one answered, you looked at the man on the table. He was wincing in pain, his eyes clamped shut as he grit his teeth.

“We have the same blood type,” the man from before responded, stepping forward as he shed his jacket. 

He knew what you had been getting at.

“I need to stop the bleeding first or a transfusion is pointless, but stay nearby. What’s his name?”

“John, my name is John,” the patient ground out as he tried to breathe through his teeth.

“Alright John, I’m Y/N,” you said as you grabbed a syringe full of something to put him to sleep from Andrew, checking the dosage before you leaned over John. “I’m going to give you a sedative so that I can work on you. I don’t want to take the chance of you moving while I’m fishing around in there. You’re going to stick around though John; I’ll be very upset if you die on me.”

He gave you a smile, blood on his teeth from a cut on his lip. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a wince as you stuck the needle into his arm. 

As you pressed the plunger, you watched his eyes flutter shut. Once he was down, you set to work.

It wasn’t an easy job, but you worked quietly and diligently. Once you had the bullet removed, you set to work fixing the bleeders. It was unnerving to work in this environment, with men scattered around the you and watching every twitch of your fingers, but you did your best to force them out of your mind. You just focused on the work.

Out of the woods in that regard, you went to work setting up the transfusion. Andrew stuck at your side, professional as you gave him quiet orders. The other men moved when you did, never blocking your view. Sometimes they’d hand you something you asked for if they were closer than Andrew was.

At the end, you told Andrew to clean and dress the wound where you at stitched him closed. While he did that, you moved to the other man with the needle and tubing for the transfusion.

“Have a seat,” you said as you pointed at a nearby chair. “And your arm, please.”

The man followed your orders without blinking. He had rolled his sleeve up and laid it out for you. It wasn’t hard to find a good vein thankfully, so you went ahead to do the draw. Once that was set up, you held out the switch mechanism to Mr Shelby and told him to hold it high while you set up John’s IV as well.

The whole thing took an hour, but it was those first fifteen minutes that had been crucial. If they had waited for the doctor, you were sure that John wouldn’t have made it.

Needles removed and everyone cleaned up, you checked John’s vitals and sighed, rubbing the back of your forearm against your forehead to wipe away the sweat.

“He should rest and take it easy for a while, but I believe he will make a full recovery. We can give him something for the pain, but we need to keep an eye to make sure there isn’t an infection.”

The man that you had used for the transfusion stood up, obviously a little wobbly but not about to ask for help. As he lowered his sleeve, he looked over at you and nodded.

“Thanks for helping my brother,” he said as he looked down at the patient.

Brothers? You didn’t see too much of a resemblance, but maybe there was something there.

“Of course,” you said as you dusted your hands over the apron that covered your dress. “He needs to be taken to one of the beds to rest.”

Andrew got a few other attendants to help carry the stretcher to a bed that could be moved. While they brought him to a room, the other men started to scatter. 

“Here,” the man known only as Mr Shelby said as he wrote something down on a sheet of paper that had a few dots of blood on the edge, “if something happens in the night, have someone find us here.”

You didn’t even look at the paper as you gave a nod, watching as he collected John’s brother and started to pull him towards the back entrance. The brother looked over his shoulder at you before they disappeared through the doors.

Alone for a moment, you glanced at the paper in your hands and frowned at the address. It wasn’t familiar. The Garrison must have been a pub. But then scrawled at the bottom were two words you hadn’t expected.

Small Heath? Those men were from Small Heath? 

Andrew came into the room and looked around at the mess that had been made. He let out a low whistle as he looked over at you.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?”

Operated without a license. If and when the hospital found out, you were bound to lose your job, maybe even be arrested.

“I know,” you said quietly as you folded the paper in your hand once more. 

“You just operated on one of the Peaky Blinders. Hell, you had the needle in the head of the organization’s arm. Jesus Y/N, you’re fearless,” Andrew added before he turned and left the room.

And you? You were left to collect yourself. 

Those were the Peaky Blinders? Gangsters, obviously. And the man with the startling blue eyes was the head? Well, you had thought he was in charge, hadn’t you?

With a sigh, you got to work cleaning up the room. Once you were done there, you’d check on John once more before you called the doctor. Might as well get it over with.

------

It was almost noon but you didn’t have anywhere to be. Food didn’t sound appealing but you knew you needed to eat, so you went into the kitchen to see what you had available. As you started to rummage, there was a knock on your door.

Unable to think who would be visiting you, you moved and opened the door. On the other side stood the man from a few nights before, the head of the Peaky Blinders. You’d never even got his name before he had disappeared.

“Oh,” you said quietly as you tried to think if you should invite him in or shut the door, “can I help you?”

He looked down, the brim of his hat blocking his eyes. You saw the flash of something metal in the hat, but your focus went from that to the cigarettes he was pulling from his pocket.

“You weren’t at the hospital,” he said as he put one of the cigarettes between his lips to light it. “John’s been released. I wanted to thank you again for your assistance but you weren’t there.”

As if this wasn’t strange enough already.

“I don’t work at the hospital anymore,” you explained as you shifted your weight, uncertain still if you should invite him in or not. “After it came out that I had operated on someone without the proper training or license, it was decided that I should just be removed from the staff.”

They had decided not to take it to the courts, but you were under the belief it was because they didn’t want to drag the Peaky Blinders into the situation. And no doubt the man at your door knew that too.

“I got your name and address from the attendant that was there that night. He seemed a little reluctant actually,” he added with the beginning of a smirk before he took a long drag on the cigarette.

For a lot of reasons, you assumed.

You noticed that the neighbor across the hall had their door open a crack. Realizing that you were being eavesdropped on, you opened the door a little wider.

“Would you like to come in?”

He hesitated a moment before he stepped over the threshold. You shut the door and let out a quick breathe before you turned to face him. He was inspecting your living space.

Suddenly you wished you were a cleaner person.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

You heard him clear his throat.

“Tommy. My name is Tommy Shelby,” he said almost nonsensically. 

You nodded and turned towards your small kitchen. You barely got there before you realized something.

“The other man was called Mr Shelby too. A relative?”

“Brother,” Tommy said as he went to look at a picture you had on the table. “Arthur. He’s got a few rough edges.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” you said as you turned back to your kitchen. “I could make some coffee or some tea. Do you have a preference?”

“Tea will do.”

You went through the steps of making tea for the two of you as you tried to ignore the presence in your living room. How strange, you thought, that he showed up at your door. He had said that he wanted to thank you for your help with John, but he could have done that already.

Instead you had invited him in for tea.

Tea poured for the two of you, you sat down at the small kitchen table in the corner. He sat with you, sipping at the tea as if it was something to savor. His eyes never stayed on you long, but every time he looked at you, you felt like he could see all of you. It was unnerving.

The mere idea that you were sitting in your flat having tea with the head of the Peaky Blinders was almost hilarious to you. You’d left London because things had been too dramatic, but this is what you get in Birmingham? You lose your job for doing an illegal surgery on a gangster and then you have tea with the gangster’s brother.

At some point, you’d have to write this down to tell your friends. They would never believe you.

“John wouldn’t have survived if we had to wait for the doctor,” Tommy said, repeating something you already knew. 

“I’m glad I was there then.”

“You lost your job,” he reminded you.

“I can find something else,” you said without any real hope. 

With this mark on you, you wouldn’t find a job in the health industry. No doctor or hospital would take you if they knew what you had done. You’d be a liability.

Tommy leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, leveling you with that unnerving stare.

“What about coming to work for me?”

Heat traveled down your spine and you tried not to shiver. Or at the very least, you tried not to let him see you shiver.

“I beg your pardon?”

He shrugged a shoulder and tapped his fingers on the table, still maintaining eye contact.

“You need a job and we can use someone with your skills. There’s a lot of injuries and illnesses to go around. I’ll pay you more than what you made at the hospital.”

You should say no. You should definitely, definitely say no. Having tea with him was one thing, but to work for him? Hadn’t everyone told you to stay away from Small Heath because of the Peaky Blinders? And here was the leader of them, at your table with your favorite tea cup next to the ashtray you forgot you had.

“I don’t… would I have to move to Small Heath?”

He began to smile, well aware that you were agreeing. Now it was down to semantics.

And you would come to find out that Tommy was really good at the small details.

------

Your new place was larger than you had expected. There was a guest room that you doubted you’d ever use, but it was made up anyways. The furniture was provided to you, so you didn’t have to move much. And everything that was moved was done so by the hand of a Peaky Blinder.

News of your new vocation and who had hired you had traveled around Birmingham quite quickly. The few friends you had there had found you before you left to ask if you were sure about this.

You weren’t, but it was better than nothing.

Tommy showed you where you would be operating out of. The front of the space seemed to be some sort of gambling den, whereas the place you were in was spotless. After you gave Tommy a list of everything you needed, you set about making the clinic into somewhere clean and workable.

John was there one day to have you remove the stitches you had given him. He had smiled at you as he hopped onto the table, pulling his vest and shirt off with ease. You checked the color and tenderness of the incision, but ultimately you were satisfied. 

“This has healed well,” you said as you set to work with the stitches. 

“Testament to your healing hands,” John replied with a wink that made you laugh.

It shouldn’t surprise you that the man was an absolute flirt. You focused on your task and ignored everything else. When you finished it up, you sat up and gave him a smile.

“I would still urge you to be easy on it for a few days just in case, but I think you are in the clear Mr Shelby.”

“John, please,” he said as he jumped off the table. 

It left him standing right in front of you so that you had to tilt your head up to maintain eye contact. And he was still shirtless. He was grinning at you, his eyes sparkling as if he had an array of things in mind that he’d like to do with you. Or to you.

It was an embarrassing situation for Tommy to walk into. He barked out his brother’s name with nothing else, but it was apparently enough of a warning for John to roll his eyes and step back.

“Didn’t see your name anywhere,” he grumbled as he made his way past you with his shirt and vest in hand. “I’m healed up, in case you’re curious.”

Tommy gave his brother a look and you turned away to work on cleaning up your supplies from removing the stitches. Whatever was going on between the brothers, you weren’t sure you were meant to witness it.

And John’s comment was particularly interesting, but you didn’t want to read too much into it. Perhaps Tommy just felt territorial because he was the one that brought you into their lives. 

Yes, that’s exactly what the problem was.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?”

You looked over and saw that Tommy was alone. You gave a nod and looked back to where you were disposing of the stitching and old gauze. 

“It’s well stocked. I suppose I should have asked before I agreed, but what kind of injuries do you imagine I’ll be handling the most often?”

Tommy shrugged his shoulder as he inspected some of the equipment.

“Knife wounds, bullet wounds, injuries from fights. If it gets to be too much for you, I’m sure we can get someone to mash their thumb with a hammer.”

His sarcastic reply had you laughing. You spun to face him and caught the back end of a surprised look on his face before his face fell neutral once more. 

“Are you positive that I’m worth all of this?” The clinic, the money he’d already spent getting you situated in your new flat, the money he was paying you.

“Every penny,” he replied.

------

The clinic became busier than you had expected it to be. There seemed to be injuries daily, plus people coming in for you to check your handiwork a few days later. It wasn’t just the men, although that was the bulk of your patients. Their women and children came to you as well. You didn’t have access to the medicines you needed, but you made it easier for them to know what they needed to do.

Plus it seemed that some of them knew things they could do, herbs and spices that could help certain issues. It took a while for you to realize the why of it.

They were Romany. Not all of them, of course, but the Shelby clan at least. You heard the unfamiliar language whispered between them sometimes when they didn’t want to be overheard. And gossip traveled fast in these parts. 

You’d heard more than a few people spit the word ‘gypsy’ at their feet as if it was venom sucked from a wound.

You were largely left alone. When you were away from the clinic, you noticed that people seemed to give you a wide berth. News traveled that you were the surgeon for the Peaky Blinders and you were treated with the appropriate response: something between respect and a healthy dose of apprehension.

More than one of them men had invited you to The Garrison for an evening of drinks and laughter, but you turned them all down. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t like to let loose, but you had a feeling that none of them were inviting you in a friendly manner.

Though none of them made you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, you still didn’t want to make any of them think you were interested in them that way. You weren’t. You weren’t interested in any of them.

Except perhaps the biggest enigma of them all. You refused to address your complicated feelings towards Tommy Shelby. 

Besides the transfusion for his brother, Tommy hadn’t required your expertise.

The lone sister of the Shelby clan, Ada had come to help you out in the clinic fairly often. She had some form of training, although it was rudimentary to say the least. She took to your tutelage with a certain focus, watching your fingers as you stitched together a wound or set a broken bone. 

“How did you get into medicine?”

You watched Ada roll up the extra gauze. The two of you didn’t talk much when there was a patient in the clinic, but once it was the two of you, she always had a hundred questions for you. Some of them were about your teachings, but a lot of them were just about you

“My mother was a nurse,” you said as you went to work to sterilize your equipment. “I suppose she still is, but she doesn’t work anymore. She takes care of my niece while my sister works as a secretary. My niece is blind.”

“So you just decided to follow her footsteps?”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you decided to become a nurse. Your childhood and young adult years had been spent with you trying to put a distance between you and your family, but you still fell into the familiarity of it.

“I wanted to help people,” you offered as you turned back to your work, “and this was the best way I could imagine doing it. It’s why I didn’t hesitate to help when your brother came into the hospital even though I knew what would happen to me.”

“We’re glad you did. Even though John drives us all to our wits end sometimes, he’s a good man. Usually.”

You smiled at the sisterly affection in her tone as she talked about John. You’d heard the same in her voice when she talked about Arthur and Finn, their younger brother that you had only met briefly. That affection was still there when she talked about Tommy, but there was something else there too. Frustration, perhaps? 

Something about that particular brother made Ada want to pull her hair out it seemed.

“Tommy likes that you’re here,” Ada offered as she went to work on sorting the bandages. 

That drew you up short. You hesitated your fingers over the scissors before you went back to straightening your station.

“It is definitely handy having someone nearby for their purposes,” you replied as you tried to make your breathing even out. 

There was a telling silence from behind you. Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could almost feel her eyes on your back.

“Yeah, that must be it.”

------

“Shit,” a voice swore as you came through the door of the clinic. 

“Mr Shelby?” You rushed forward, dropping your things on the floor to catch Tommy as he swayed into your hold. “Mr Shelby, are you hurt? Come, sit over here.”

You guided him to the table but he refused to sit there. Instead he fell into a nearby chair. You could see him better in the light there. His face looked like he had met more than a few fists recently. Blood dripped down his face splattered onto his legs and the floor.

“Had a bit of a rough one,” he mumbled as he reached up with a hand that didn’t look much better, brushing blood away from under his nose and leaving a smear of red across his cheek.

“I can see that,” you replied as you set to work. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me long. I usually don’t come in this early, but I couldn’t sleep.”

He let you work in silence after that. He moved his head this way and that while you worked, let you order him around. Once his face and fists were cleaned and patched, you started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’re you… doin’?”

He had refused pain medication, but he sounded like he was regretting that. When he tried to push your hands away, you tsked him and went back to it.

“I doubt your assailant only went for your face. I need to make sure you don’t have any broken ribs or internal bleeding.”

He must have saw the logic in that because he went to work on his vest. It took a coordinated effort from the two of you to get his shirt open, but once it was, you found yourself at a loss for what you were doing.

Injuries. That’s… that’s why you were removing his shirt. Nothing else. You were looking for injuries.

Get a grip, Y/N, you thought as you slipped back into your professionalism like it was suit of armor.

There were bruises, but it didn’t look like there was any internal damage. And as you checked his ribs, you noticed that his skin was warm to the touch. For some reason you thought his skin would be as cold as his eyes made him look.

But there didn’t seem to be any breaks. Once you were satisfied, you stood up straight and stepped away.

Tommy was staring at you. He sat there with dried blood on the white shirt and on the material of his pants. His chest expanded with every breath, drawing your eyes to the tattoo over his heart. 

“I can send you home with something for the pain,” you said in a rush as you turned towards where your medicine stayed locked away.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Mr Shelby, I really insist–”

“Tommy. Please, just… call me Tommy.”

You bit your lip as you looked over your shoulder. He was struggling to button his shirt, his fingers a little stiff and uncooperative. With a sigh, a quick prayer for steady hands, you went to him to help him with the buttons.

“Tommy. I sincerely suggest taking something for the pain. You’ll feel it worse tomorrow, I promise you.”

You worked on the buttons from the bottom up, leaving a few undone around his neck. Then you rolled his sleeves down the rest of the way as well, your eyes straying to look at his face.

“I’ll grab a bottle of whisky before I head to the house,” he promised in a low voice as he watched you.

Those light blue eyes could probably see every one of your secrets. You licked your lips as you tried not to meet them, worried what you might reveal if you did. Instead you stepped away and gave him a nod.

“I can come by the house later and make sure you don’t need anything. Do you need any help getting there?”

He shook his head and stood up, wavering a bit but steady enough. He bent down to pick up his jacket and vest. Your hand darted out to pick up his hat and he made a noise to stop you, but you continued anyways.

“Ow,” you exclaimed as you lifted your hand up, staring at the cut across to tips of two of your fingers. “What in the name of…”

There were razors sewn under the brim of the hat. You inspected them and swallowed heavily before you held the hat out with your uninjured hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a tone of voice that made you think he wasn’t just talking about being sorry for the cut on your fingers.

You didn’t know what to do with that, so instead you grabbed some gauze and pressed it to your fingers.

“Rest for a bit at least. Your ribs aren’t broken, but you’ll still feel it when you move for a while. And keep those cuts on your face clean and covered for at least a few days.”

Tommy tilted his head down as he reached up to pull the hat on. You saw a glint from the brim as he turned away from you.

“Thanks for your help.”

And with that, he was gone. You listened to the silence in the clinic for a few moments before you looked down at the cut on your fingers.

It seemed as if Birmingham was destined to leave its mark on you after all.

------

The letter had stayed folded in your pocket for most of the morning. The moment you’d gotten to the clinic, you had been pressed by patient after patient. Ada had showed up fairly early and was able to help, but you were both plenty busy. By midday, Ada had complained about being hungry. 

The two of you put a sign on the clinic before you left to grab something to eat. You walked there arm in arm as Ada told you about the man she was seeing and how happy she was.

“You don’t bring him around?” 

Ada made a face as you took your seats in the restaurant. It took you a moment to place, but then it clicked. That was the same look she got on her face when she talked about Tommy sometimes.

“Tommy doesn’t approve.”

That particular Shelby wasn’t just the head of the Peaky Blinders, but he was the head of their family. Arthur was older, but Tommy had the brains for the business. As much as you liked Arthur, you knew he had a hair trigger. Tommy was the planner.

John was the wild card in that case.

“Him and my Freddie were friends once. Sometimes I think they still are. Tommy knows, doesn’t approve, but lately he’s gotten better about letting me be.” She gave you a look that you weren’t quite sure what to do with, then sighed as she grabbed her drink that the waiter had put in front of her. “What about you Y/N? Do you have a fella somewhere waiting for you?”

The letter seemed to burn in your pocket. 

“I did, once,” you said thoughtfully as you raised your glass to your lips. “I don’t have anyone now.”

Ada frowned and leaned forward.

“You said you had family, right? Back in London. What about them?”

What about them indeed. 

“My mother is so focused on my niece and my sister that she probably hasn’t even noticed that I’m not there. My brother came back from the war missing an arm and most of his sanity, so he lives in a home for people like him. And my father…” You took a deep breath and tried not to let your eyes get misty. “My father told me that if I left, that I shouldn’t come back.”

Ada let out a shocked breath at that before she leaned back in her chair. It was the first time you’d told anyone the truth about your family and you tried not to cower from her pity.

“I believe sometimes family isn’t what we think it is,” she said quietly as she looked at her drink. “For me, family is the Shelbys, but it’s also been Freddie. Maybe a time comes when we have to decide what family means to us.”

Maybe she was right. Instead of responding, you raised your glass to give her a toast. 

------

The clinic was dark and silent. You had closed up for the day, but you hadn’t left for home just yet. It had been a busy day and you were grateful for Ada’s help. More than that, you were grateful for her friendship.

With light pouring over you, you pulled the letter out of your pocket and smoothed it down. The address was the one from Birmingham proper, but it had been forwarded to you in Small Heath. The return address was a familiar one.

Inside the envelope were two folded sheets of paper. You hesitated as you opened them. Your name was written in a familiar script, each letter written with care and ease. 

“News from home?”

You jumped and spun around, seeing Tommy in the doorway of the clinic. He held his hands up to apologize for scaring you before he moved over to where you were sitting. His words finally penetrated your haze and you shook your head as you looked back at the letter.

“Not exactly. It’s a letter from my fiance. Well, my ex-fiance, I suppose,” you said as you started to fold the letter back up. “We ended things six months before I left London, but he still writes sometimes.”

“What was the reason for the split? If I can ask.”

You ran your finger along the edge of the paper, but didn’t say anything immediately. When it seemed like Tommy might take the question back, you opened your mouth and let it all spill out.

“I didn’t love him. Even when I agreed to marry him, I wasn’t in love with him. He was a handsome man with good prospects and a good family so it was assumed that the two of us would do well together, but I didn’t want that life. I didn’t want to be a wife that sits at home and waits for her husband to come home. I am a person in my own right and I refused to give that up, even for him or my family.”

You glanced up at Tommy, unsure if you’d said to much. In that moment, you saw respect pouring out of those eyes. 

“What does he say when he writes to you?”

With a shake to clear your head, you looked at the letter. You skimmed the first page to see if it followed the same pattern as the letters before.

“He tells me about his family, about our friends. Sometimes he mentions my family, but not often. And then,” you flipped to the second page, “he reminds me that he loves me and that he wants to wait for me to come to my senses. He doesn’t use those words, but I’m sure that’s what he really thinks about me setting off on my own.”

Tommy held his hand out for the letter. After a brief hesitation, you handed it to him. For some reason it didn’t feel like he was invading your privacy. He put the letter on the metal table and pulled something from his pocket. After a moment he struck a match. He raised the letter so that the edges caught the flame. Then he dropped the paper onto the table.

You stood and approached, watching the letter turn to ash with the help of that match.

“Don’t let someone tell you what you should be or should do. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You can make your own decisions.”

You turned your head to look at Tommy. The light from the fire reflected in his eyes, giving it an eerie glow. That glow made you think that perhaps he wasn’t as cold as his eyes made him seem. That light blue that made you think of the winter sky as the snow fell was warmer than you imagined it could have been. 

You could make your own decisions, Tommy was right about that. And you had a feeling you were about to make one right then. A decision that would change your life as much as the decision to operate on John Shelby had done.

“Tommy?”

He hadn’t looked away from you, but at his name, he turned his body towards you completely. You took a step towards him, your hand raising to press against his cheek.

With your past in flames on the table beside you, you leaned in and kissed Tommy Shelby with everything you had inside of you. And you learned first hand that he had plenty of warmth inside of him. 

------

“Ah, that shit stings,” Arthur complained as you poured antiseptic over his wound.

“It could be whisky,” you snapped back as you grabbed a cloth to clean up the site.

“At least I could drink that too,” he grumbled as you checked the edges of the bullet hole in his arm. “Come now Y/N, it’d hurt a lot less if you’d let me have a sip of something.”

He reached out a hand behind you and you knew he was gesturing for John to hand him a bottle or a flask. You put a little pressure on his arm, earning a grunt of pain from him.

“If you hand him any alcohol John Shelby, I’ll reopen that wound I stitched a year ago and pour it right in.”

“Sorry brother, the doc scares me more than you do,” John said with a laugh as he draped his arm over his Esme’s shoulders, guiding her out of the clinic.

“You’ll bring her back to me soon John, she’s not done for the day,” you reminded him with a shake of your head.

Newlyweds.

“Feels like I’m going to lose my arm,” Arthur grunted as you began stitching his skin together. 

“I’ll take you losing a limb as a slight against my skill, so let’s not. Just a bit more and you’ll be good as new.”

You worked quietly at that point, focusing solely on your hands. Ada was in the other room sitting down, her pregnancy causing her to get tired more often. Her husband would have to be called at some point to come collect her if she didn’t get back on her feet. Not that Freddie minded one bit.

Once Arthur was repaired, you gave him the go ahead to get a drink in him after you made him promise to be easy on his arm for the next few days. He gave you a kiss on the temple before he staggered out of the clinic and back into the gambling hall.

“You are the one person who can make Arthur shape up,” a warm voice called from behind you right before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“He’s scared I’ll come after him with my scalpel,” you teased as you turned your head and kissed Tommy’s jaw. “And Polly does well enough to keep him in line.”

“No, he listens to you. You’ve got a healer’s spirit and it puts all of us on our best behavior around you.”

You turned around in his arms so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. He burrowed into your neck and inhaled deeply. It felt like it had been years since the last time you had seen Tommy, but it had just been that morning before you left for the clinic.

He’d made you an extra half hour late.

With a noise in the back of his throat, something like a playful growl, he lifted you up and placed you on the table so that he could slip between your legs. He kissed you, deepening the kiss when your hand pulled at his hair.

“If this is you on your best behavior,” you teased as he kissed down the side of your neck, “I’d hate to see you misbehave.”

He pulled back and his eyes flashed, danger mixed with love and adoration. He had two settings and you loved him in both.

“Well doc, do you have the cure for what ails me?”

He leaned in to kiss you again after he asked it, tugging your body closer to him so that you could feel exactly what it was that he was talking about.

You bit his lip before you leaned back with a grin.

“Go lock the door love. I’ll take good care of you.”

He raised your hands and kissed the back of each one before he moved to do as you ordered. You watched him walk away from you with a smile on your lips.

You had found a home in the embrace of the Peaky Blinders. More than just a home, you found love. You found family.

And you had no intentions of letting it slip away.

X

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[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Non-Sequential [Ch. 17]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 3,400

Chapter 16

“She hates me,” Steve whispered the moment they were alone.

Bucky sighed.

Before calling Steve, Bucky hadn’t realized his actions would put him between Y/N and his best friend. He wanted to be there for both of them. Except he couldn’t side with Steve when he had been a complete and utter idiot. And he had no problem saying that to the punk, either.

“You know Steve…” Bucky sighed again. “You got pumped full of glorified steroids that made you grow a foot and gain over a hundred pounds.” Then he shook his head. “But it clearly didn’t do a thing to that head of yours, because you’re still shit with women.”

Despite the truth behind the insult, Steve still glared at Bucky.

“Thanks. Real helpful.”

Bucky took a step toward him. “She doesn’t hate you, Steve.”

He dipped his head. His newly shaggy hair fell a bit in front of his face. “She should.”

“You messed up,” Bucky told him bluntly. “So, fix it instead of feeling sorry for yourself.”

Steve gave him a little side smirk. “When did you get so harsh?”

Bucky scoffed, knowing Steve was only trying to tease him. “I happen to like Y/N a lot. Always have. But I’m done watching you hurt her because you’re an idiot.”

He started to walk away. His gut was telling him to go check on Y/N. But she had Steve now. It was his place now.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve called out before he could make his leave.

He turned around.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” Steve told him softly.

Bucky just stared into his eyes, trying to find a hidden message in his soft blue eyes. Was there jealously lingering? A subtle threat to stay away from Y/N?

But all there was in Steve’s face was sincerity and gratitude.

So Bucky just nodded awkwardly and continued on his way.

———————————

The next morning, Y/N heard a light tap on her door. She opened it to see a guard waiting for her on the other side.

“His Majesty has breakfast waiting in the Great Hall. He wished for me to ask you to join him,” the Kingsguard asked her carefully.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Is…” She had to stop herself from saying ‘Steve’. “Is Captain America attending as well?”

The guard seemed to have been prepared for such a question. Still, he shifted his weight uncomfortably and then nodded.

“Send His Majesty my apologies, but I have to take a raincheck.”

The guard wasn’t surprised by her response. T’Challa must’ve given him the heads up about the current situation.

Y/N gave him a forced smirk before slowly closing her bedroom door again. She’d hide out there for the rest of Steve’s visit if she had to.

————

Bucky sensed a presence heading towards his farm and somehow just knew it was Steve. He kept doing his gardening.

Before their little fight, Y/N had recently made a comment about how much space Bucky had on his property and what a shame he didn’t use any of it to plant flowers or fruits and vegetables.

“So, this is how you been spending your days…” Steve said as he looked around at Bucky’s farm, all the animals, and newly planted crops.

Bucky glanced up at him, wincing as the sun hit his eyes, but continued gardening. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You seem to really like it here,” Steve sighed.

Bucky paused to look into his friend’s eyes and nodded, “I do, actually.”

“I’m glad, Bucky. Really glad.” His words couldn’t be more sincere.

“You talk to Y/N yet?” Bucky had enough of the small talk.

Steve shifted his weight and stared at the ground. “She won’t see me.”

Bucky wanted to say, ‘Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.’ But he refrained from doing so.

“Has she….” Steve put his hands on his hips and took a breath. “Has she said anything to you? About what happened? About me?”

Bucky finally stopped gardening. He plunged his trowel into the dirt so it stood up straight, half buried in the ground. He brushed his hand on his Wakandan tunic and finally got to his feet.

“Why do you think I called you, Steve?”

No response.

“She’s not talking to anyone. She won’t even talk to herself.” Bucky shook his head. “Yeah, Y/N’s mad at you. Real mad. But she doesn’t hate you. She could never.”

Steve never looked more guilty.

“The two of you have already been through so much. Hell, you guys fought time to be together. Yeah, you fucked up and Y/N’s not making it easy on anyone. But you can’t just leave her when things get tough because you think that’s what’s best for her.”

Steve smirked. “When did you get so wise?”

Bucky punched him lightly in the shoulder. “When my brain finally got cleared up with a little help from a Wakandan princess.” Then he gestured around them. “All I do is sit alone with my thoughts. Kind of hard not to get perspective on things.”

Steve just nodded in understanding.

But Bucky’s face had now gone dark and serious. “This is the hard part.”

Steve squinted, but just waited for him to continue.

Bucky ran his hand through his sweaty and knotted hair. There was no easy way to say what he was about to say. “I…I know what happened to Y/N.”

Steve took a step toward Bucky with a glare. “You just said she refused to talk to anyone.”

Bucky rubbed his face. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

Steve waited.

“I know... because I was there.”

Steve swore his blood ran cold. He immediately started pacing, distressed with all the directions his mind was going, all the scenarios he was imagining.

“Was it you?” Steve finally rasped.

“What?” Bucky blinked.

“Were you the one that did all of that to her?” Steve had never used such an angry tone toward Bucky before. And quite frankly, it was catching Bucky quite off guard.

“No! I would nev-” But Bucky stopped himself short, because who knew what he would’ve done to Y/N had he been ordered to?

Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Just…come inside, will you? I’ll explain everything that I know.”

An hour later, Steve was clenching his hands together into a fist. He had to do something to stop them from continuing to shake with pure rage. He was seated, forearms resting on his knees.

His eyes were glossed over with tears.

Bucky just watched his best friend like a lost puppy.

He hated being the one that had to tell Steve everything that happened to Y/N. But she showed no signs that she’d ever open up and talk about it.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Bucky finally whispered with his head hung low.

Steve blinked at him.

“I should’ve done more,” Bucky continued.

Steve should’ve stopped his best friend’s guilt. But he was dealing with his own emotion, still shocked by everything Y/N had been through. He didn’t have it in him to talk down Bucky.

“I know you stayed away because you think being near her makes her travel to dangerous places in your life,” Bucky went on with a quiet tone, like he’d break something if it he spoke any louder. “But if you’re using that logic… it was me that nearly got her killed, not you.”

Steve sat up straighter, but still couldn’t find any words.

“You truly believe that loving her is what puts her in danger. But just being friends with me put her into the hands of Hydra.” Then his sad eyes met Steve’s. “Still think you’re the worst thing to ever happen to her?”

——————————

Y/N was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a screen display of sorts, making it appear as if she were on a jungle floor, looking up. It was almost disturbingly realistic.

Her mind is racing with both how to approach Steve and how to make sure she never has to see him again while he was in Wakanda. It was strange to want nothing more but to run into his arms while simultaneously wanting to slap him across the face for abandoning her.

Just when she was in the heat of her turmoil, she started feeling that tingle that had conditioned her blood to run cold with fear.

Her eyes widened as she sat up in bed, quick as a whip.

She swore under her breath as she tried to work the Kimoyo beads around her wrist just like Shuri had taught her.

A wave of relief washed over her when a hologram of Shuri projected from the bracelet.

“Finally using your Kimoyo beads, I see.” The princess beamed.

“Shuri! It’s happening. I don’t have much time. I just needed someone to–”

But she was already gone.

———————————

Bucky and Steve quickly turned to the door when they heard multiple people approaching Bucky’s hut outside.

Bucky put a palm on his friends chest, silently telling him to tease at ease.

“Bucky! Captain Rogers!” Shuri called in a panic as she knocked on the door.

Bucky rushed to the door and flung it open. Shuri was on the other side, with half a dozen Dora Milaje in tow.

“It’s Y/N.” Shuri said, clearly out of breath. She must have ran all the way here.

Steve now jolted forward from Y/N’s name alone.

“She’s traveled,” Shuri quickly added, not wanting to add any more suspense.

Then the princess held up a bracelet of Kimoyo beads. “But I’ve finally gotten a reading of when she travels.”

———————

The first thing Y/N heard was crickets. By some miracle it was warm and dark. There was a relaxed feeling in the air. Dare she say it was even a little soothing?

Y/N looked around, quickly taking in her surroundings. It looked like she was at a fort – no, not a fort. It was a camp.

“Camp Lehigh!” Y/N gasped, remembering Steve telling her about the place he had trained for the army, before he had even received the super-soldier serum.

It seemed to be late enough in the night that no one was wandering the camp.

Her observations were halted when she caught a figure through a window.

It was Steve. Pre-serum Steve, to be exact.

He was sitting on a cot, alone in a cabin.

His hands were fidgeting in his lap. Anyone could tell – even watching through a window – that the boy was nervous.

Y/N’s chest tightened when she realized this must be the night before the procedure.

She took a step toward the cabin, but then quickly stopped herself.

She didn’t have to go to him. She could easily find some extra clothes or a military blanket and hide this out until she returned to the present.

But it was in that moment that Y/N realized how much she missed Steve. But it wasn’t just Steve, it was their past. Believe it or not, even with her time traveling, it seemed like she’d been brought back to simpler times. Times when Y/N was just a friend visiting Steve. This was before they fell in love, before Steve took responsibility to ever single bad thing to ever happen to Y/N.

And Y/N realized she missed it.

She missed the innocent way young Steve used to look at her and talk to her.

So, Y/N found herself tiptoeing toward his cabin now.

Her fist hesitated above the wood before knocking lightly.

“Come in,” Steve answered.

Even those two words were unable to hide his nervousness.

Y/N slowly opened the door and slipped into the cabin.

Steve jumped to his feet when he realized it was not a comrade or scientist entering.

He quickly looked away from her and even shifted his body so he was angled in a different direction than her.

Y/N smirked, forgetting for a moment how shy and innocent this version of Steve was.

It was strange to know there could ever come a time when Steve didn’t avert his gaze. That he would drink in her naked body, claiming it and taking in every detail as if she were the most beautiful being in the world.

“Sorry,” Y/N quickly muttered, not wanting to make the poor boy uncomfortable. She quickly whipped a blanket off one of the extra cots and wrapped it under her arms, almost like a strapless dress.

As soon as he knew she was covered, Steve quickly turned back to face her. He was beaming at her.

“What?” Y/N asked, almost with an accusatory tone.

“Nothing. I…I was just thinking how much I wish you could be here. And then you just – you appeared. I feel like I just got a wish granted by a fairy godmother or somethin’.”

However, Y/N didn’t find it as amusing as him.

Her response made Steve’s face drop slightly.

“You OK?” He asked.

She just nodded. Then she moved to sit on a cot. But she didn’t choose the one that was right next to his. Instead, she chose the one that was opposite of his, on the other side of the room, putting unnecessarily extra space between them.

Steve didn’t miss it and hesitantly sat on the edge of his own.

Y/N was grateful that her bruising was basically entirely gone. She didn’t feel like answering questions.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

Y/N finally looked into his eyes.

“It’s just…” he continued, “You won’t even look at me. And you’re so… You’re so far away. Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N swallowed and looked down at her bare toes.

“Not this version of you,” she finally muttered without even meaning to.

But even with his bad hearing, Steve still caught it. His eyes widened.

“What did I do?” Steve whispered.

She just shook her head and shrugged. “I shouldn’t – I can’t tell you things like that.”

Steve sighed and nodded, understanding why she couldn’t say more. “Well, I’m still sorry. I wish I could say I’d stop myself from clearly being an idiot. But we know that I can’t really change the future.”

Then he looked up and gave her a sheepish smile.

Silence settled in the cabin and once again their ears were filled with the sound of crickets outside in the summer air.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go through with this tomorrow,” Steve mumbled, eyes refusing to leave the ground.

Y/N instantly stood up. “What?” She gasped and then moved to sit on the edge of Steve’s cot. “Why would you ever say such a thing?”

“Maybe I’m not as good of a person as everyone believes I am,” he mumbled again.

Y/N reached under his chin to make Steve look her in the eye. “That’s impossible. Steve, you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you like this, so certainly I messed up big time.”

Y/N sighed.

As soon as she started thinking of how to handle this situation, her eyes became coated with tears. “Yeah, you messed up. Big time.” Then she let out a laugh as she wiped away some tears.

“Are you going to forgive me?” Steve asked, clearly scared of her answer.

Y/N’s gut reaction was to say, ‘Of course. You’re the love of my life.’ But Steve didn’t know that yet.

She sniffed and rubbed away more tears. “It’s going to take some time. But I know we’ll get through it.”

Steve seemed relieved by that. “I’m sorry…for whatever I did.” He told her again. Then he shook his head. “But I do know - not matter what - if you’re mad at me, I’m real bent out of shape about it. Can’t imagine anything worse, really – you being mad at me.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Seeing and hearing the sound made Steve lighten up a bit and smile at her.

And just like that the tension seemed to be released from the cabin.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Y/N asked him softly, bringing the attention onto him now. She moved to the cot next to his so she could face him. 

Steve winced at the question, but then reluctantly nodded.

Y/N reached over with the hand that wasn’t holding her blanket up and squeezed his hand. “It’s going to be fine. I know, because I’ve seen it.” Then she winked at him.

Steve swore his heart stopped from the gesture.

“Does it…Does it work?” He asked.

She gave him a side smirk and nodded.

“You’ve always had a big heart, Steve. I didn’t think it was possible for it to get any bigger. But soon you’ll get to act in the name of it. If you’re doubting Dr. Erskine’s decision to pick you… you shouldn’t. He couldn’t have chosen anyone better.”

Steve blushed at the compliment. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Now…enough of all this. We need to talk about something more important.” Y/N told him with a newfound mischievousness.

Steve tilted his head to the side. “What’s that?”

Y/N smirked, “That new crush you have on Agent Carter.”

His eyes immediately widened and he blushed. “How-What-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Y/N laid down on the cot and faced him, like a giddy teenage girl at a sleepover.

Steve laughed and did the same, laying on his side to face here.

Their faces were barely two feet away from each other.

Y/N asked him questions about Peggy, loving to see what Steve was like with a schoolboy crush, especially knowing that soon it would be more than just an innocent crush. No, soon Peggy would be his first love.

They giggled and joked around. Steve’s mind was taken off of the experiment that was just hours away.

In return, Y/N was reminded of how Steve and Y/N’s relationship started. Before The Avengers, before Hydra, before Steve put saving the world before anything and anyone… Y/N and Steve had merely been best friends.

It was silly to think that ending her relationship with Steve would magically stop her time traveling. Because even if they weren’t in love with each other one day, Y/N realized she would always love Steve.

As the sun was just about to hit the horizon and make its way into the sky, Y/N had fallen asleep on the cot across from the Steve. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep so easily. So deep in a sleep, in fact, that she didn’t even feel the extra blanket Steve had draped across her before he too tried to get some sleep.

When Y/N awoke, she was in her bed back at the Wakandan palace.

She jumped up and quickly moved about to find clothes.

She rushed out of her room so quickly that she even startled her own guard, who quickly muttered into his Kimoyo bracelet that she had returned. Y/N didn’t know who he was talking to, neither did she care.

Y/N only cared about one thing right now.

When she finally arrived at the door, she stared at it for a moment.

She took in a deep and shaky breath. But she finally found the courage to knock.

The door slowly opened and revealed Steve giving her a surprised look from her standing outside his bedroom.

Y/N still wasn’t used to his beard and long hair. It almost made him seem like a stranger.

“Y/N,” Steve gasped in both surprise and relief from seeing that she’d returned from her travels unharmed.

Y/N took a hesitant half-step forward. “Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Steve whispered back.

Then Y/N couldn’t control herself any longer. She flung herself at Steve, closing the couple of feet left between them.

Steve seemed utterly relieved by the gesture and didn’t miss a beat with wrapping his arms tightly around her. She buried her face into his neck and took in his scent.

Steve didn’t know when he’d be able to let her go again.

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

Chapter 18

Ehhhhhh??? Let me know what you think. 

[cosmiclatte28]

Tempo (Racer!reader x sehun, nct,  exo) #2

previous chapter 1

The next day Oh Sehun cannot enjoy his Sunday calmly. His mind constantly repeats the short encounter he had with (y/n) last night. Sehun still cannot believe his eyes, a girl who looks so innocent can do something that unexpected. He cannot forget that surprised feeling when he saw her behind the starting line... looking fragile and unsuitable beside her big built competitors.

Sehun wants to know her more, he finally finds someone who makes his heart flutters and skips a beat. After a good 2 months of moving on, finally Sehun finds a name that stays in his mind. He showers and after saying good bye to Luhan, Sehun walks to the lift and make his way to his basecamp. It is no other than the apartment Taeyong shares with his boys.

"You're here! Quiet early.. why? Can't sleep?" Jaehyun's sleepy face greets him. He is pretty sure Jaehyun is forced to open the door, because Sehun annoyingly presses it over and over again. Considering how much of a deep sleeper the others are, it is not surprising to find Jaehyun behind the door.

"You really ruin my sleep. I'm going back to bed." Jaehyun yawns and turns his body to his door.

"Yak it's already ten. Just wake up." Sehun smacks his lips.

"I can't I just slept at two yesterday. Yuta's sister happens to get dumped and she stayed here to cry for a straight one hour. And I can't sleep." Jaehyun rubs his tired eyes.

"Just come here. At least sleep here.. so I won't feel alone." Sehun pats the empty space on the sofa beside him. Jaehyun gives up and grabs his blanket and naturally makes himself comfortable sleeping beside Sehun.

Sehun scoffs in disbelief. He thought Jaehyun will get his code and talk to him a little so Sehun won't feel so lonely.. but this guy.. the favorite guy in his campus.. leaves him straight to bed. No wonder a lot of girls give up on him... he is ignorant.

Sehun tries to close his eyes to and get some more rest, but he can't. His mind keeps on teasing him with (y/n)'s face.

"Jae, you asleep?" Sehun asks when he feels like Jaehyun is actually awake already. "Why?" Jaehyun asks slowly, still trying his best to sleep.

"Tell me more about (y/n)-" Sehun rubs his hands over his face "-it's not what you think. I'm just curious."

Jaehyun grins and playfully pinches Sehun's cheeks "You're interested aren't you? Cutie."

"Aish. No. Come on.. I'm just curious.. we don't get to know each other that much." Sehun plays with the messy strands of hair Jaehyun has. It's shockingly painted pink and reminded Sehun of the cotton candy haired girl.

"Just go and see her next week. She'll race on Wednesday and Friday." Jaehyun closes his eyes and shifts his body to another position.

"I can't.. You know I'm not going back there. It's not my style to hang out in places like that." Sehun scrunches his nose. He is born from a rich family, and he is pampered with all good morals and living style. He just happens to learn how to live a normal life when he goes to college and meet his former gang EXO and these 4 princes of the school (dorks for him).

Sehun is not a player type like Johnny and Yuta. He is used to go to courses after school, his nights are spent in the library, his week ends are filled with golf, polo, or attending parties. Sehun went to private school until high school and he made his decision to follow Luhan's path to graduate from a public named university. Still the public school is something new to Sehun. He has to adapt with the types of people who majority have a different background unlike him. However, Sehun has never regret his choice. He met his first love here, a girl from a family like his.. she was sweet and gentle, his family likes her and supports his relationship. That's until he learn the painful truth about heart breaks. Sehun is still adapting his single life again.

"Oh yeah I forgot. You're from a rich family.. well maybe you can watch a movie alone then." Jaehyun lazily replies him.

"No.. I don't mean it that way. You know I cannot abruptly go out on a weekday. Luhan will question me."

"And what if Luhan questions you? Tell him you're seeing the wild race again."

"Sweetie I can't do that. He definitely won't allow me. I mean yesterday he let me because it's only my first time.. but I'm sure he won't expect me returning."

"Then say goodbye to (y/n)... besides she's not really available."

"What do you mean? She's looking on someone?" Sehun tenses.

Jaehyun laughs "She's my sister. Okay. That means I get to select who is dating her."

Sehun bursts out laughing and hits Jaehyun repeatedly "Liar! She is not your sister! She can't be... are you serious?!"

Jaehyun opens his eyes and gets up to sit. He quickly dodges the hits Sehun launches to him.

"He's not lying." Taeyong's raspy wake up voice croaks in as he joins the two brother fighting in the living room.

"What? Really?" Sehun stops his attacks and freezes to Taeyong's direction.

"Yeah. Trust me I've seen a lot of guys picking her up, and Jeffrey here denies every one." Taeyong laughs.

"Even if she said she's interested in Taeyong I will tell her no! Because I'm sure Taeyong deserves someone better." Jaehyun jokingly winks at Taeyong and the three bursts out laughing. Now that's a real sibling and friendship goals Sehun noted.

"Let me tell you about her.. if that's what you want to hear. Of course Jaehyun can't do that.. he will feel awkward .. talking about his sister to another man. So let me." Taeyong interferes.

"She is underage okay Sehun.. you have to keep that a secret. She is only seventeen." Taeyong is cut by Sehun's loud statement "What?! You all must be crazy placing her in that bike and letting her race! She doesn't have her license yet right?" Sehun who is used to live a life under strict rules is surprised.

"Oh come on Sehun. She's even a better rider than us who's legal to drive." Jaehyun fixes his hair and begins smirking with his ideal dimple

"She is only seventeen. Graduating high school soon and so don't dare date her or even get into her pants! I as her guardian angel will kill you!" Taeyong playfully teases Sehun.

"Whatever you guys.. I'm not seeing her like that. Just curious." Sehun tries to hide the blush in his face.. and half succeed.

"We actually did not want her to race. You know it happened one day.. when Yuta can't play because he injured his right hand, and we took a break for almost a month.. apparently (y/n) ;who was used to come with us to support Yuta begged us she wanted to try."

"I tried to stop her okay Sehun.. before you speak bad words to me.." Jaehyun quickly cleans himself. He knows Sehun will probably curse at him if Jaehyun lets her play like that.

"You know me well huh-" Sehun smirks

"Yeah so I can't play. For I broke my hand" Yuta suddenly continues the story. He is also in his wake up state like the others, but his brain is working well. "And since she sometimes joined me for practice.. she knows how to handle a motor bike. Just that she has to know how dirty the game is. She took the challenge.. we tried stopping her.. and she stubbornly went to the competition alone.. she took my bike.. raced alone. We lectured her for a whole day for we are worried sick when she popped up in front of our door in her messy state and handed us the money she won by herself."

"Holdup.. she went to her first race alone? And actually won it?" Sehun looks surprised.

The three men nod "Yes. And she said she really love the feelings... since Yuta cannot play for a month or more.. we trained her and voila! We have our Ace player." Taeyong spreads his hands open like showing a masterpiece.

"She's really a different one eh?" Sehun throws his gaze into Jaehyun and winks

"NOT IN YOUR WILDEST DREAM. SHE IS NOT DATING YOU." Jaehyun runs to the bathroom before Sehun attacks him with more punches.

--

The next Wednesday and Friday Sehun keeps his words. He doesn't join the boys to the wild racing and Luhan has no suspicion on his weird habits.

Well Sehun lately likes to doze off, loses focus in the middle of conversations, gets surprised easily, and does many other odd habits.

He tries his best to forget his feelings towards (y/n) for he also knows his family will be against it.. and it will only break both of their hearts. So Sehun tries his best to bury the slight interest he had to her.

One month passed, Sehun only knows her updates when the boys talk about her. And on one lonely Saturday.. Sehun cannot keep it going.

"Tae, let me tag along tonight." Sehun shows up ready in front of Taeyong's apartment.

"You miss her don't you?" Taeyong locks the door behind him "You appear on time. Jaehyun can't come tonight... he has a project due this night with Johnny. It's only us and Yuta, besides you're always welcomed to join."

"(Y/n)? She's not there?" Sehun blurts out the question that lingers in his mind.

"She's actually a bit injured from the last match.. but we'll see if she can make it tonight." Yuta explains.

The three arrive to the crowded illegal place. Yuta makes his way to grab his bike and goes to do the drug-test procedure. He is racing first tonight on the short track program.

"Taeyong hyung!" (Y/n) greets him quick

"How's your hand doing?" Taeyong carefully checks her left hand. It is wrapped with a strong gyps. He analyzes it while checking her face to see if she squirms.

"It's healing nicely. I am ready for tonight." She looks into Taeyong with her pleading eyes.

"But your hand?" Taeyong asks calmly. His deadly gaze still there despite the big puppy eyes staring into his.

"I swear it's not a problem. Jaehyun has modified my gas and brakes. He made it all right handed and my left hand won't have to exert great pressure." She pleads.

"Well... let me ask Jaehyun if you're allowed to play.. for actually I don't have to force you tonight." Taeyong sounds worried, but his face is still that same cold face.

"I called Jeffrey earlier. He said it's my choice. He told me that whatever the result, I am to be responsible for it." She hopelessly begs.. her hands are on Taeyong's hands.. holding them in order to win his empathy.

"I don't think it's a nice idea.. your competitor is quiet new tonight.. I do not know their tricks yet." Taeyong darts his eyes around the contestants. Yuta is already getting ready. He quickly gives him a two thumbs up and Yuta just returns a smile.

"Please.. hyung.. I need the money also I'm the ace here!" She whispers softly.

"Just trust me. I will keep myself safe." (y/n) squeezes Taeyong's cold hands and leaves when she sees Sehun in the crowd.

She pulls Sehun out of the crowd, he was busy talking with Yuta earlier and the audience are too loud.

"Sehun? What are you doing here?" she asks for she clearly remembers the oath Sehun said that he hates this place and never coming back.

"I'm here to ask you the same question." Sehun did not spit out any other words, but his hand delicately reaches to hold her fractured left hand. The gyps are still hard there and Sehun is pretty sure if he press it she'll scream and cry. "Isn't it too soon to race?"

She steps back and runs her eyes to other things but Sehun's. "It's been a month." She said knowing that's not the answer Sehun hopes to hear.

"This is not good.. though it's not my business." Sehun's deep voice cuts deep into her heart.

"Yeah.." she sighs.

"So.. why are you here?" Sehun raises his brow. Concern is painted all over his face.

"I need the money." She closes her eyes and breathe in. Feeling somewhat ashamed and sinful.

"(Y/~)—"

"I answered you." She cuts him off and hurriedly says "Now answer me. Why are you here? Seriously."

"I told you.. to see you." Sehun spills his tea.

Her pretty facial features shows surprise. She clearly did not expect his answer.

"You were being serious? You'd come back to this dirty road just to see me?"

Sehun couldn't quite read the emotion on her face as she processed that information—whether it was because of the poor lighting or just because he sucks in reading face.

Just as he was about to say something else, the MC announced the first winner for the short track program.. and calls all the contestant for the next race.

"I gotta go." Her face shows apology and something he can't read. She instantly turns her heels to leave Sehun. She then makes her way to Taeyong's side. Listening to the plan Taeyong had made. Yes Taeyong studied her competitors and he advices her how to handle each type.

"Be careful with that one biker. He is new.. I heard his name is Kai.. an ace from the other side.. please be careful with him.. I Don't know how he plays yet.. but let's avoid him okay. Now just be safe! Your safety is precious for me." Taeyong speaks while looking deep into her eyes. She nods understandingly and Taeyong hugs her tight. "Promise me not to get injured.. I am worried sick. Be safe.. for me.. for you.. for Jaehyun."

Yuta finishes his short track program first place. He rushes to (y/n)'S side to wish her good luck and final checks her gears. There are no missing parts and she's ready to race.

Sehun stands beside Taeyong and Yuta.. the three of them somehow feel uneasy letting her race tonight.. but she forces them and Taeyong knows her well. No matter how hard you said no, she will still do what she wants to do.

The line up tonight is only 7 players. With one new player Kai.. that becomes 8. Sehun squints in the dim light and dusty air.. Kai.. don't tell him it's the same Kai he was thinking.. Sehun cannot see his entire face clearly because of the helmet.. but when he looks at his side.. Sehun's face grows pale.

He is sure that is the Kai he is thinking about. Shit. Sehun knows how much of a skillful racer Kai is.. though Sehun did not know his friend is also into this filthy road gambling.. he finally understands where Kai got his random fractures.

The gun is shot, and the racers leave dust trails to the audience as they try their best to lead the line. The MC is busy reporting the players that gets kicked out or slipped on the deadly corners. Taeyong is watching from his binoculars and his mouth is clearly going to bleed anytime soon. Sehun gets it.. he is nervous..

His heart races when the MC repeatedly comments on how hard (y/n) and Kai are battling neck to neck. The two are fighting over first place and just as the race was about to end.. Sehun's heart stopped when Taeyong drops his binoculars and quickly runs to a fallen racer. Yuta is also running behind him. As if on queue the MC announces "Ace player (y/n) with number 127 falls on the last dead corner.. slipped from the slight kick of tonight's winner New Player Kai!" Sehun grits his teeth and rushes to help Taeyong and Yuta.

The fall seems to be quiet serious. She is thrown away from her bike quiet far. Lucky her helmet protects her head.. but she is unconscious right now. Taeyong picks her up while Yuta cleans up after her bike and hands it to their other crew who takes care of their bikes.

"Where's the paramedic? She told me they have paramedics? Or should I call the ambulance?" Sehun panics but tries to remain calm.

"What paramedics? This is an illegal sport Sehun.. we don't have anything like that.. ambulance? We can't bring any attention here. What should we say when an ambulance asked what happens to her? Free tracking?!" Taeyong answers Sehun's innocent question frustratedly.

"Then where Tae?" Sehun calmly asks as they reach Taeyong's car.

"You sit with her. Support her head okay.. please try to wake her up.. we'll drive to a free doctor we know." Taeyong starts the car when Yuta jumps in beside him.

They quickly rush to the place Taeyong said. On the back chair, Sehun is carefully holding her head while realizing she has many scratches.. must be from the rough landing.. some of the cuts are deep from the rocks..

"I'm sorry if her blood gets into your clothes." Taeyong talks to Sehun from his rear mirror.

"No it's not a problem.. focus on the road Tae.." Sehun ties some pressure on one of the big cuts with a towel Yuta passed.

They arrive at a small house. Apparently he is a doctor who always handle them. Doctor Choi Minho.

He quickly takes over (y/n). Checking her vitality, cleans all her blood and quickly decides she needs a few stitches. He checks her left hand and luckily it's not getting worse. Her left foot however was swollen.

Taeyong is pale.. he is busy thinking of what to say to Jaehyun... while Sehun, he just feels the same pain.

Amazingly her swollen leg has no fractures nor damage. It's swollen because the hit was quite hard. Other than that Minho only need to stitch a few deep cuts.

He finishes stitching her left arm, knee, elbow, and chin.

Minho lets them wait for her to wake up in the small check up room. There's a bed there and a chair. Sehun volunteers to look after her and Taeyong plus Yuta who are still thinking their way to tell Jaehyun.. thanks Sehun for taking the responsibility.

Quarter hour passed.

"Sehun?" Her soft hoarse voice greets Sehun's hearing. He is alert from his daze.

"You're awake.." Sehun pulls his chair closer to listen to her small volume.

She darts her eyes to look around and scrunches her face

"This is not my room."

"Uhum. You're in Dr. Minho's practice room."

"The race.. did I lost?" She asked

Sehun doesn't want to tell her the truth. She just risks her life and well being for the money she won.. but Kai.. Kai ruined everything.

Sehun sheepishly erases the gaps between them and places a kiss on her forehead.

She chuckles and swiftly keeps Sehun frozen on his chair "What good are those lips doing up there. I woke up and saw a god in front of me.."

Sehun blushes "Your brother will kill me."

"He won't.. he doesn't know what happened here." She eagerly smiles and Sehun can see Jaehyun's smile there but way more sweeter.

Like hypnotized by her playful gaze, Sehun leans down to reach for her lips. His hand carefully reach for her cheeks instead of the sewn chin. She closes her eyes and melts herself to the sweet passionate emotional kiss they exchange.

It is a fleeting kiss, too short for their liking but enough to make the two gasping for air. They parted just in time when Jaehyun bursts through the door. Sehun leaves the two of them alone.

"Thank goodness you're still in one piece! Taeyong almost lost his head if it's not because you called me earlier and practically forced me to allow you race. See?! I'm actually right about warning you something bad might happen... and see.." Jaehyun instinctively scolds his sister just like how brothers will act in this condition.

"Aish you make my head hurts.. it's not Taeyong's fault. I forced him too to let me play." I close my eyes when the head ache returns.

"I won't scold you more.. I think you're big enough to learn from your mistakes. I'm just worried sick okay. I scold you for your own good. Hyung loves you and doesn't want to lose you." Jaehyun smoothens her hair and leans to peck her cheek.

"(y/n) for this one time.. please listen to me. Don't race until you get better." Jaehyun stares into her eyes.

She nods helplessly and reaches for his hand "I promise. But please let me get to know Sehun." She bites her lips and blushes upon telling her request. Well she knows the rule that all men are to be qualified by Jaehyun first.. and she just feels the burning desire in her heart when she sees Sehun.

Jaehyun thinks for a moment and finally gives her an answer. "Alright. You can get to know him. But no dating or sleeping together. You can't bargain about that."

She rolls her eyes "I'm only going to walk to grab bubble teas with him.. or maybe watch a movie together. Gosh I'm still young bro. I need a friend to study and I think Sehun hyung is a nice learning buddy."

Jaehyun smiles and stands up from his seat. "Fine. You are allowed to go out with Sehun. Just be open to me okay. I trust you."

"Hyung, you're the best! Now help me go home." she gives him a two thumbs up, opens her hand to be carried by Jaehyun and she hangs on his back.

They thank Dr.Minho and make their way back to their apartment. Jaehyun is bringing (y/n) to his apartment tonight to look after her and the long ass ride back home she totally knocks herself to a deep sleep.

Sehun smiles inside his heart when he overheard the deal the brother and sister made.. well Sehun accidentally heard them when he was told to call them out to go home. And Sehun's in cloud 9 when Jaehyun allows her to see him.

He promises himself he'll be a good friend and a good guardian. He knows a lot of good bubble tea cafes and Sehun is brilliant in his studies. He can't wait for their first meeting...outside the race track.

CONTINUE TO NEXT CHAPTER 

[lynnsfics]

Coffee Stained Confusion Ch 19

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~~~

As it turns out, burning down a building was a lot more work than it seemed. Natasha collected all their data before you would set blaze to a room. When the smoke alarms went off most of the remaining HYDRA agents fled outside where SHIELD operatives were waiting for them. Bucky was still weak from his close call with the Winter Soldier, so Sam escorted both him and Alicia to the Quinjet. As much as you hated to leave Bucky’s side, you didn’t have much of a choice. The facility had to be destroyed.

When you entered the main holding room, Nat began downloading the data from the computer. Picturing a raging fire in your mind, you allowed flames to begin licking at the corners of the room. Smoke began to accumulate but it wasn’t anything out of your control. Suddenly, a loud bang came from the other side of the room, causing your heart rate to rise. You assumed all the HYDRA thugs had retreated. As you rushed over to investigate, weaving your way through the abandoned cell block, the flames began to grow against your will. They rose, creating a towering inferno of heat and smoke. It became so thick that you lost all sight of your surroundings. It was in that moment when you felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against your back.

Risking a glance behind you, you saw a tall, lanky man holding a revolver to the small of your back. “You know,” he whispered, his voice deep and gravelly, “in all my time here, the Winter Soldier only ever brought HYDRA down. However it seemed I was the only one to be to see that. When I learned he was recaptured I decided to use this opportunity to dispose of him, once and for all. However, I think I’ve found something better to take from him, something so much more precious than his life. Yours.” 

You reached back, latching onto his arm and twisting it, sending a shock of pain through his body. But you weren’t fast enough and he was able to pull the trigger before the searing heat from your hand forced him to drop the gun. A sharp pain went through your ribcage, causing you to stumble back in pain. As you tried to make your escape, an idea came to mind. Cautiously, you pressed down on the wound, hoping the heat from your hand would effectively cauterize it. It seemed to work, although the pain was still there. Taking a deep breath, you sent a blast of fire towards the area where the man fell. Immediately after you tried to turn and run, clutching your side as you tried to find your way out. You instantly became turned around, however, because the smoke was too thick to see through, and the maze of cells seemed to go on forever.

From the smoke in front of you, a hand snaked out and grabbed you by the ankle, pulling you down onto the dirt floor. You landed directly on the bullet wound, reopening it and causing a pool of blood to turn the floor to a red mud beneath you. A vein was definitely punctured, and you knew you would be running out of time if you didn’t move quickly.  Reaching over, you placed a searing hand on his face “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” 

“I didn’t come so far to fail. If I go down, so do you,” he chuckled darkly, “Barnes deserves the hand Fate has dealt him.” 

“You never considered the hand Fate dealt you,” a voice came from somewhere to your left. From the smoke, Natasha emerged, gun pointed at the man. 

“I’ve accepted mine,” he replied, dark eyes meeting yours, “but have you accepted yours? You and I both know that bullet hit a vein, so you’ll be dead soon enough. But I do have a message for you to deliver. When you get out of here and return to your Bucky, having almost completely bleed out, I want you to tell him who killed you. The true fist of HYDRA.” A bang echoed against the metallic walls of the room. The man lay in a pool of blood, Natasha standing over him with a smoking gun. 

She walked over to you. “Can you stand,” she asked, the smallest hint of panic seeping through her calm exterior. “I think so,” you nodded, “but we have to hurry. I already tried to cauterize the wound but it didn’t take. He was right, it’s serious.” Nat helped you up, “Bruce is on the ship, he might be able to sew it shut until we get back to the tower. But you need to quell the flames enough so we can get out of here safely.” Reaching out to the flames drained you of a lot of energy, making you feel even weaker than before, but you managed to subdue them enough for the smoke to partially clear. 

You weakly stood, legs threatening to give out beneath you. In your condition, the building seemed even bigger than it had originally. To keep you awake Nat was talking to you, explaining how Alicia and the professor were both sent ahead in a separate jet, so you luckily wouldn’t have to deal with either of them on your way back to the tower. After what felt like ages, but was most likely only a few minutes, you made it out to the Quinjet. For the second time that day, dots clouded your vision as blood seeped from a bullet wound. As soon as you made it to the jet you collapsed onto the deck, Bucky rushing to your side. 

Seeing how deep the wound was caused his heart to sink. Worry laced through his voice as he picked you up and gently placed you on a gurney, “Doll, what happened, who did this to you?” When you didn’t respond he glanced at Natasha who just shook her head sadly.

“He said he was the ‘real fist of HYDRA’,” you replied, your voice only a whisper. “Do you know who that is?”

Bucky felt his heart stop, a memory from his days as the Winter Soldier resurfacing. “HYDRA had plans for a whole army of supersoldiers. He was one of the agents who volunteered to take the serum, but when he went out on a mission he disobeyed direct commands, decimated an entire city block. I was sent to stop him. Instead of allowing him to take his place as a soldier, he was forced to stay at the facility, only going out when critical.” You barely registered the words, falling into a coughing fit. When you took your hand away it was slick with blood. Bucky stayed by your side, holding your hand, trying to mask his fear. Soon after the jet took off, you drifted into an uneasy unconsciousness. 

Bruce pulled Nat aside, speaking in a hushed tone, “The bullet didn’t hit a vein, but it was very close. If she loses more blood, she might not survive. She’ll need an emergency blood transfusion as soon as we touch down, and even then the situation will be critical. I would inform Bucky, but after what Sam told me about the Winter Soldier incident,” he shook his head, “I don’t think he’s in the right headspace to receive that type of news right now.”

Natasha nodded in agreement, “The best thing to do, I think, is wait until the transfusion is complete and they’re both a bit more stable. I’ll phone ahead to Steve, let him know the situation.” 

After what felt like ages, the Quinjet finally landed, medics ready at the sight to take you to the infirmary. Bucky tried to stay as close as possible without getting in their way. 

“We don’t know if it will work,” he overheard one of the medics say, “her condition is critical. The only thing we can do once it’s done is hope.” Bucky felt his heart twist at the words. Sensing someone walk up to him he glanced over. 

“She’ll survive this,” Sam said, “she’s a fighter.”

Bucky glanced down, unsure of whether he should confide in Sam. “If she survives this it’ll be a miracle. The doctors said she’s in critical condition. See, this is why I told you I don’t do relationships. The man who shot her knew she was important to me, knew he could use her death to cause me grief, and it’s working. It’s my fault she’s on death’s door, Sam. I can’t let her get hurt because of me again. And I almost became him again, I could have-” 

Sam interrupted him,“Hey man, look at me. You did everything you could to protect her in there. Maria told me you tried to bargain for her freedom, using your own life as leverage. But she wasn’t in harm’s way because of you.” Bucky shot him a look and he continued, “Alright, let me rephrase that. Yes, in this instance she was put in danger because of her connection with you, but she knew what she was signing up for when she decided to be an Avenger. No matter what, with the ability she has, she’s going to be in harm’s way. So even if you try to push her away for her ‘protection’, it won’t change anything. The only thing it will do is hurt you both.”

Bucky looked over at the operating room where they were wrapping up the blood transfusion. “Thank you, Sam. I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he smiled. “I think they’ll let you in the room now that they finished the procedure.” 

As Bucky approached the room, a doctor pulled him aside. “She’s recovering slowly, but she still hasn’t woken up. The trauma wasn’t just from the one bullet wound, but two, along with the cuts she received. If she starts coughing again let us know.” Bucky nodded before rushing into your room. He grabbed a chair and pulled it next to your bed. 

“Hey doll,” he paused, remembering all the pain you’ve been through the past few days, “I know you probably can’t hear me right now, but I know you’ll get through this. You’ve endured so much already. I know it might be hard, but I need you to stay with me. I’m not letting you out of your promise that easy,” he chuckled, but his voice was thick with unshed tears. 

For the next two days he stayed by your bedside, only leaving the few times the attending nurses forced him out. On the third day, he was talking on the phone with Steve when your eyelids finally fluttered open. 

“No, Steve, I’m staying with her,” he argued, “I don’t need-”

“Bucky?” you whispered, your voice sore from not being used. 

His head shot up, and the phone clattered to the floor. “Doll, you’re awake, oh thank God. You’ve had us all worried, you know.”

“How long was I out?” Taking in your surroundings, you could tell you were in the tower, safe from HYDRA. 

“Three days,” Bucky whispered, holding your hand. Your mind almost completely short-circuited when you heard that, but you wanted to stay strong for Bucky. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping and looked over at him questioningly.

“What happened to Alicia and the professor? Are they interrogating the other HYDRA agents?”

“They were taken to a maximum security prison, don’t worry. You’re safe here. As for the interrogations, I don’t know. I’ve been here the whole time. I couldn’t leave you, not when,” he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.

“When what,” you asked gently. 

“The doctors were worried you wouldn’t make it,” he whispered. “God, doll, I was worried too. After all that happened, all we made it through, I couldn’t lose you.”

You reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “Well, I did promise you I wouldn’t leave you, didn’t I?” 

~~~

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I actually can’t believe that the next chapter is the last, like how? Like always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Love you all <3