#but i had surgery 3 weeks ago and i saw him last the week before that

[pzycho]

.

[undressrehearsal]

right back where we started

summary: ellie is on tour as the opener for a popular band. she begrudgingly passes through the hometown that she had sworn she would never see again and runs into the one good thing she left behind.

tags: some sad stuff, ellie has daddy issues, mentions of alcohol, modern au, not rockstar ellie but that same kinda genre???, no smut in this one sorry this is all setting the scene, this is another shorter one 3.6k words

a/n: listen. I'm gonna level with yall. life's been fucking insane. it's been what 3 months since I posted something?? and it's because 1. my fiancée and I are buying a house 2. and planning a wedding 3. I work 45 hour weeks (at a job I hate so much omg) 4. I'm writing a book and 5. I'm preparing for a p major surgery (I go on tuesday)

so yeah, life's been insane. but I missed writing fics. I'm writing my book so I never stopped writing but writing a lil fun fic just hits different yk?

anyway enjoy and look forward to a few (I'm thinking 3?) parts of this

love yall. reply and lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list. also I'm posting this on my phone so the formatting might be fucked lmk

part 1

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had been in this city.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could remember exactly the last time she had been in this city. She had watched it disappear in her mirror when she had driven her bike west three years ago in search of the horizon. She had hoped she would find something more once she got there - more than the dingy dorm room she had loosely called home and the classes that had made her eyes glaze over; something more than playing at the bar’s open mic nights, her guitar hard to hear over the noisy din of drunk students and drunker professors; something more than a future that had been planned for her by the time she was in high school.

Her dad had kicked her out after she dropped out, of course, but that was fine. She had planned to leave that night anyway; she had kept a packed bag hidden underneath her bed for months. She hadn’t seen him in three years, either, and she planned to keep it that way.

But when she woke up and saw the city outside the bus window, silhouetted against the rising sun, something in her chest rose to her throat and refused to be swallowed back down.

She hadn’t missed it - but as she looked down at her shaking hands, Ellie figured her body must not have gotten that memo.

The band she was traveling with were still sleeping; she could hear the singer snoring in her bunk, could see the bassist's leg sticking out into the aisle. She had never been a morning bird - back at her shitbox apartment, you'd rarely catch her up before noon - but something about being stuck on a bus for days made her restless. It was her first time touring - after three years of playing at open mics and taking small jobs singing at the senior center - and she wasn't used to feeling her own bed constantly shifting beneath her.

Which is how she always ended up pacing the length of the bus, tapping her fingers against her thighs as the confined world around her slept, waiting desperately for the driver to pull off to whatever venue they had booked. She wasn't sure what the band did before their shows in the evenings, but she didn't stick around long enough to ask. Maybe it was rude, but she couldn't force herself to hang out with the band who only chose her because their usual opener had “flaked” on them - which was how they described it when the opener couldn't travel with them for several months after their mother had just died.

So, yeah, Ellie couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it when she rushed off the bus as soon as it parked, not even sticking around to let the band know where she was going. They wouldn't care either way. Hell, they were probably so hungover they wouldn't wake up until their show started in several hours.

The driver - his name was Zachary (never Zach) and he was the only one who paid her any mind - helped Ellie hoist her bike down from the rack on the back of the bus. The band had teased her about bringing it, bitching about how it showed she didn't want to hang out with them. She had been tempted to tell them they were right, but she couldn't really risk losing the first real gig she’d gotten. She lifted the seat and dug her helmet out, waving to Zachary as he disappeared back into the bus to get his own well-deserved rest.

The purr of the bike was a familiar comfort beneath her. Lowering the visor of her helmet to block out the sun, she squinted at the streets sprawled before her. She realized, with dizzying familiarity, that she was in the next neighborhood over from her old apartment. Hell, she had watched a few shows at the venue she was playing at - something in her stomach clenched.

Fuck, she needed coffee.

With the wind cold against her bare arms, Ellie let the world fly by, the city waking up around her. Her phone remained snuggly in her bag; she didn't need directions here, the familiar streets leading her down well-worn paths, winding all the way back to a life that was no longer hers.

It was muscle memory that led her back to the coffee shop she had frequented as a student. She looked up at it, a glow around its worn brick from the rising sun, and something tightened in her chest. They had replaced the patio chairs - the old ones had been practically falling apart three years ago - but otherwise it hadn't changed.

Ellie cursed under her breath, swallowing around the foreign lump in her throat, and climbed off her bike. When she took the steps two at a time, it felt like somebody else had taken the wheel. It was a familiar stranger that opened the door.

The smell hit her first. They say that scent has the strongest tie to memory, and the smell of burnt coffee beans hit her like a punch. There had always been a sweetness underneath it, something she had never been able to place but thought might be honey? When she stepped up to the counter, she could even smell the milk they were steaming.

The barista - a young girl with faded pink hair tied up into space buns - looked up from her phone and said, in a voice teetering on the edge between cheerful and bored, “How’s it going?”

Ellie took her in briefly, noting the brown corduroy overalls and the star-shaped nose ring, and was comforted knowing that this place was just as queer as she had left it. She would bet money on the fact that if she peeked over the counter, this girl would be wearing beat up Docs. She was young enough to be a student - probably an English major, if she had to guess.

She always ordered the same thing - iced mocha with oat milk. She had never understood why her dad drank his coffee black.

The barista - her tag said Dianna She/Her/Hers - eyed her as she rang Ellie up, brows quirked. When she smiled, dimples caved her cheeks. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a student?”

Ellie fought the urge to groan - this girl was just trying to be friendly (and was probably trying to decide if Ellie’s flannel meant she was gay or was just a bad fashion choice), but the last thing she wanted to do after failing to sleep on a bus and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn was to make small talk.

Still, she smiled and said, “I used to be.”

She paid and stuffed the remainder of her cash into the tip jar. When Dianna thanked her, her cheeks were as pink as her hair. Ellie could feel her eyes lingering on her as she walked away, nodding awkwardly in thanks.

This place really hadn’t changed in three years. The coffee shop had a reputation of students writing all along the walls - over a decade ago, they had simply stopped trying to paint over it, so the walls were littered in signatures and drawings and claims of call this number for a good time. Scattered poetry was written along the edges of the windows, an incredibly detailed Sharpie drawing of a cat peeking over the top of the doorway. When she searched for it, she found that her own scrawled handwriting was still there, small letters where nobody would think to look, right underneath the thermostat: Find me where the sun sets east. Don’t forget me.

She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her and stepped away. Her eyes stung from sleep deprivation and nothing more.

Ellie scanned the room and found that, to her annoyance, nearly every table was taken. Students huddled around notebooks and laptops, engrossed in their work or else on Netflix to avoid studying. Professors blinked wearily, clutching their own cups of coffee as though they were lifelines holding them to this realm. Ellie could see the spot she had frequented herself - a booth tucked by the window, where she could write her songs in a dingy notebook without anyone looking over her shoulder.

Now, there was a guy with his cheek pressed to the cold surface, snoring lightly.

Ellie jumped when Dianna called her name, holding out a cup so filled with coffee that it trickled over the side and down the glass. Ellie took it gingerly, holding it in careful fingers to not spill any more on the countertop.

Dianna held onto the cup for several seconds longer than necessary, her fingers - cold from the glass - lingering on Ellie's. When a crooked smile pulled at her lips, her brown eyes sparkled. There was a teasing tilt to her voice when she said, “I hope to see you around, Ellie.”

Ellie gave her what she hoped was a friendly smile - judging by the way Dianna’s cheeks bloomed pink, she must have succeeded - before turning away. She almost felt guilty for the relief she felt when she found there was no phone number left on her glass this time. She was never sure whether it was nicer to ghost somebody or to send a gentle rejection through text, and she did not have the energy for that decision.

She turned, searching for an empty seat to slouch in and try not to fall asleep into her coffee, when her eyes found you.

You hadn’t changed a bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. You had changed - anybody would in three years. You had changed your hair, and now you dressed differently than she remembered - you used to bitch so much about how you couldn’t dress how you wanted, and now, looking at you three years later, she was happy to see that you were finally dressing like all those pictures you had saved in your little Pinterest folder of “outfit inspo.”

Ellie could see the mark of three whole years, but truthfully, you hadn’t changed. You were slouched over a laptop, leaning way too close to the screen, and you still had that pinch between your brows when you concentrated, the one that she used to run her thumb over; she could still feel how soft your skin was beneath her fingers.

She should have ignored you - she should have gone to slump in a corner of the coffee shop like she had planned, trying not to fall asleep into her cup and pretending to not notice you even as her eyes kept cutting across the cafe to find you again. She should have pushed the memories away just like she had pushed away all of the other memories associated with this city - hell, she should have never come back to this city in the first place. There were too many memories here that she had spent three years, a thousand miles, and an ocean of whiskey running away from.

And yet Ellie found her feet carrying her over to your table of their own volition. She walked the tightrope between who she is and who she once was, chasing a memory of the only good thing she left behind.

You didn’t look up at her as she approached. You kept your head bowed over your laptop, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. There was no reason for you to look up - Ellie could have been any nameless stranger coming to bother you when you were clearly just trying to work.

But Ellie had never been good at leaving well enough alone. Which is why she hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and tapping lightly on your shoulder. She had to bite back a laugh when you jumped, pulling your headphones from your ears and swiveling around to look up at her.

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t do an embarrassing acrobatic jump when you met her eyes. And she had always been a terrible liar.

“Hey,” Ellie said, trying her damnedest to keep her voice steady; she only somewhat succeeded. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice when she said, “Remember me?”

Satisfaction bloomed warm in her stomach when your eyes widened, taking in the sight of her. Truthfully, she must’ve looked like shit; she had had to take a disturbingly brief shower at the last rest stop - the water apparently didn’t get any warmer than antarctic - and she hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few days. She had forgotten to pack her brush, so her hair must have been standing up at odd angles. And God knew what the lack of sleep was doing to the ever-growing shadows under her eyes.

But none of this stopped you from running your eyes down her body, cheeks pink when you finally looked up to meet her eyes again. And Ellie couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face, her own cheeks growing warm. It wasn’t intentional when her voice dropped another octave, nearly a murmur when she said, mostly to herself, “Yeah, you remember me.”

“Holy shit, Ellie?” You jumped to your feet, a smile pulling at your lips as you gripped her arm. The familiar shine in your eyes did something funny to her stomach that she was way too stubborn to name. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was just, uh- just passing through town,” she found herself saying, rubbing at the back of her neck. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but explaining to you the actual reason she finally came back to this hell-hole town suddenly seemed daunting. “Wanted to check out some old haunts, I guess.”

And then you just… looked at her, for several long moments - long enough to make Ellie squirm. Your eyes bore into hers, searching for something that she had buried three years ago.

You jumped, and whatever spell that was floating between you broke when your phone buzzed from where it still sat on the table. You scooped it up and flashed an apologetic smile to the glaring student a few seats away. Swiping at the screen, you cursed under your breath:

“Fuck, I have to get to class.” You looked back up at her again, a question behind your eyes, and Ellie had never wished so hard that she could read minds. You hesitated for only a moment before saying, words rushed, “Do you want to walk with me?” Before Ellie could respond, you continued, picking up your cup and fiddling with the straw, “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you and I want to catch up. But you’re probably busy, so you don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” she cut you off, trying to smother the smile that pulled at her pink cheeks. She failed drastically when you smiled back at her.

After asking for a to-go cup from Dianna - thankfully no number written on the plastic cup either, despite the way the barista eyed Ellie as she left - she followed you out the door and back into the blinding morning sun. The mid-October air bit at her cheeks, creeping under her flannel; the cold coffee in her hand made her fingers sting, but you were already walking away, so she grit her teeth and followed.

And it was like you both just fell back into place, aligning with each other as though that empty space had never existed. You were working towards your graduate degree, Ellie discovered, and were working as a TA to get through; the class you were heading to was the dreaded public speaking class that you taught around your own curriculum. You laughed as you talked about some ridiculous speech a student had recently presented, and Ellie had forgotten just how much she liked the sound until it was burying behind her ribs again.

Ellie didn't tell you exactly why she had come back. When she’d left, you had known she was chasing a dream - it was the main reason she had presented when she broke up with you. The idea of long distance was too hard - too complicated - and Ellie didn’t want anything tying her to this town.

Even so, her body still wanted to fall into old habits. She told you about her roommate and how, when Ellie had been up too late writing a new song or her roommate had had a late shift at the hospital, they would play truth or dare until they were too drunk to stay awake, and her fingers brushed against yours, muscle memory making her reach for you. Ellie told you how she had visited her sister, Sarah, while passing through Houston, and she wanted so badly to lace your fingers together. She wanted to wrap her arm around your waist - hell, she even wanted to grab your ass right where everyone could see, just like she used to. She tucked her free hand in her pocket.

“You still haven’t told me why you came back,” you said, coming to a stop in front of the Communications building - it was just as tall and ominous as Ellie remembered. Her stomach lurched at the site, remembering all the speeches she had to make in her own classes. She supposed Public Speaking wasn’t a useless class now, considering she didn't stutter when she had to speak in front of an audience now.

Ellie shrugged, dropping her cup into a trashcan without looking at you. “Like I said, I’m just passing through-”

“Bullshit,” you said, but there was no malice behind it. You tilted your head to meet her eyes and smiled at her, even as your eyes held something unreadable. “The Ellie I knew couldn’t wait to get out of this shithole - her words, not mine. She wouldn’t simply pass through - she would go out of her way to stay in the next town over. So,” you crossed your arms, “what changed?”

Before, if you had ever crossed your arms at her, Ellie would reach out and gently pull your arms away from your chest, pulling you into an embrace. She wanted nothing more than to pull you into her, instinct unaware of the three years and a thousand miles that had separated you. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building, the brick biting into her back. “Nothing’s changed. Trust me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here.”

For only a second, your face twisted into something unreadable that pulled at Ellie's stomach. But you quickly schooled your expression, tilting your head, your smile soft. “Listen, I have to go - if I'm too late, these fuckers are just gonna try to skip. But we should meet up later - I want to catch up.” When Ellie opened her mouth to say you had been catching up, you continued, “Really catch up. I want you to tell me everything - it's been years, so we have a lot to cover.” You looked at your phone and cursed. “Look, my last class ends at 3:25. Meet me on the green after?” For good measure, you stuck out your bottom lip and added, “Please?”

Ellie had never been good at resisting that look - she had given into you so many times from that look alone. She had to bite back the sudden, stupid smile pulling at her cheeks, so she pressed her lips together and looked away. After three years, you still made her cheeks flush without trying.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

Without warning, you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around her neck briefly. Her hands hovered at your sides, unsure of where to go. Feeling your body pressed against her again - feeling the warm brush of your breath against her neck - short-circuited her brain, leaving her gasping on dry land.

Before she could figure out where to put her fucking hands, you murmured in her ear, “I really did miss you, Els,” and pulled away, just as quickly as you had come. Ellie's mouth hadn't even caught up to her brain by the time you were gone, the door closing softly behind you.

Later, after she had had a proper breakfast from McDonald's, she was still thinking about you. Seeing you again had opened up a bottle that she had sealed away, and the cork wouldn't fit back into it. Her fingers itched with the memory of your skin beneath them. When you had hugged her, she had smelled the shampoo that you apparently still used, and she remembered how it had felt to have your head on her chest, breathing you in as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And your lips next to her ear - that opened a whole subcategory of memories that she tried desperately to push away.

She was only here for the night. She lost count of how many times she had to remind herself.

Ellie was stopped at a red light, leaning her bike from one foot to the other, when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced at the blinking crosswalk sign - twenty seconds, so she still had plenty of time before the light turned green - before fishing her phone out. She had to squint against the sun, straining to make out the screen. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw the familiar name popping up on her screen, fumbling to open the text.

There was a screenshot of an Instagram post from the venue she was going to play at. The band's name was in bold letters, stars pasted around a grainy picture of the group. And in small letters underneath - like an afterthought - was her name: Ellie Miller.

And underneath, in all caps:

YOU'RE PLAYING AT THE HAWTHORNE?????

Her face flushed all over again. After all these years, you had still kept her number.

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)

Word Count - 3k 

Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real. 

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut  

A/N -  im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me  

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The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.

Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound. 

“When did this happen?” 

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”  

“Any meds?” 

“Shot of adrenalin.” 

You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.   

Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members. 

The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital. 

The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.  

Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”. 

Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway. 

That was where you were right now. 

You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast. 

Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.   

You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him. 

“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm. 

He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.” 

You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?” 

He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.” 

You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.  

“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.  

You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”  

“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings. 

You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation,  “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”   

“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave. 

You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been. 

“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname. 

You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.  

“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.

“Just cold s’all.” 

He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown. 

“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you. 

He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”     

He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.” 

“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?” 

“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you. 

You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed. 

He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.” 

You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe. 

The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.  

Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.” 

He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission. 

The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him. 

In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say. 

There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price. 

As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.   

Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.” 

You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. 

Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him. 

Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.   

Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.   

The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.

 The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious. 

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble. 

In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something. 

Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream. 

Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself. 

You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left. 

He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off. 

You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes. 

Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion. 

You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck. 

It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything. 

You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.

The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums. 

You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.

Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage. 

You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.  

A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. 

Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight. 

Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering. 

The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.

Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.  

“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.  

Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. 

He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath. 

“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself. 

“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.

You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered. 

“You’re fine,” he repeated. 

“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.” 

Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.

Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre. 

As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage. 

“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding. 

You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan. 

Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again. 

Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.” 

You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.

Part 2 

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

[viesanterieures]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.

warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)

word count: 2500+

Masterlist

The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."

He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.

"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.

"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.

"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."

"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.

YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.

"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.

"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.

"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.

He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.

"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.

"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.

"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"

YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"

Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"

"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.

Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."

YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.

"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.

***

"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.

"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.

"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."

"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.

A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."

Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."

YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."

"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.

"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.

"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?

"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.

Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.

He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."

Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.

"And open your eyes."

Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.

"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.

"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."

"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."

Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."

"You can have it if you want," YN offered.

He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"

She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."

Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."

"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"

Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.

"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.

"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.

"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.

"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."

"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.

***

"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.

"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.

"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.

YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."

"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.

"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.

Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."

"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."

"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.

"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.

"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.

"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.

For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.

"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.

"Let‘s do this, YN."

****

"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.

"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.

"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"

"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.

"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.

YN looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.

"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.

"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.

"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."

YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.

"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.

"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.

"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.

Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.

"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“

Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.

- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

[clearlydiamondz]

Can you do Erik with a bratty gf glasses wearing girl ????

Rule #1: Refer to me as only daddy or sir

Rule #2: No panties

Rule #3: No cumming unless given you permission

Rule #3: No touching unless given permission

Rule #4: Always be honest

Rule #5: Don't be a Brat, Punishment will meet actions

(Y/N) sadly looked at Erik as he got ready for work. She knew that he was going to be busy all day for his 12 hour shift, probably not being able to see her for the rest of the day but that didn't matter. She needed him. She was mad at herself for being tired when she came over. Her classes had her stuck in her laptop and books, so as she soon as she saw his bed she was out like a light.

Erik didn't mind though, he knew that (Y/N) was working hard to become a RN, and he also knew that she needed her rest. Matter of fact, he needed her to have all her rest for Spring Break that was ahead. He was determined to use her to his content, (obviously with her consent) and he needed her to have all her rest. He took off the entire week just to spend time with her. This was the last day.

"Don't look at me like that." he told her. Her pouting, and her eyes enhanced by the glasses made him want to just call out and fuck her senseless now.

"I just miss you. I haven't had you in what.. two weeks?" she complained. He closed his eyes sighing. The way this girl was so persuasive didn't help his need for her. He grabbed her by his cheeks making her look at him. "Please daddy, I just want to put my mouth on it. Two minutes, please?" she pouted again. His squeeze tightened as her glasses moved on her face, being crooked. She fixed her glasses by pushing them with her middle finger in the middle.

"Be a good girl, okay? Daddy will take care of you when he gets home if your good okay? We will go to one of your favorite restaurants, I promise." he told her grabbing his coat and his lunch. He was dreading going into his 12-hour shift at the hospital as a neuro-surgeon.

The two of them met at a medical convention in L.A almost a year ago. Her school decided to do a field trip for all medical students to be able to have a chance of networking. He was a speaker at the convention, and immediately she caught his eye. She was in the front row, taking notes with her iPad with her red zee-loo framed glasses. She asked the most questions, and was the most entuned in the conversation. Obviously, a lot of the girl students were asking questions about him personally because of how good looking he was. (Y/N) was different, she wanted to get all of the details on the health field.

Now, here they are almost a year later, and Erik has have her heart and he has hers. Helping her with her studies, letting have a place to lay her head when she didn't want to be with her roommates.

Her pouting face was now angry, Erik automatically realized it. "Fix your face." he gave her a kiss on the lips as she rolled her eyes. Luckily, he didn't see it as he turned around walking to the door. "Break a rule and your ass is mine! Daddy loves you!" he yelled and he was out the door. She turned around looking at his empty apartment.

12 fucking hours.

She was on hour 8 and she did everything she could think off. She turned in some last minutes assignments, did the laundry, clean out his refrigerator, and cleaned up the entire apartment. She still had time to herself, so she decided to have a little fun. She'll start of small.

Recently just getting out the show, she sat in front of his wide body mirror taking pictures of herself. Some were innocent, some were not so innocent.

Erik sat down exhausted from the five hour surgery of a a traumatic car crash. Grabbing his phone, he saw that their was a few text messages from his dear (Y/N) grabbing it. Opening the text, he immediately put it back to his chest as he saw glimpses of what she was doing.

He turned around to make sure that there was no one staring from behind, before lowering his brightness and looking at the photos. "My God..." he whispered to himself.

There she took an innocent looking picture on the bed with nothing on. He could even see in the picture how she sat where her thighs and ass making her thickness more provident. The only piece of clothing (more like accessory) was those same red framed glasses that made him fall in love even more. The things he wanted to make her do was dangerous.

The next photo was her sitting on the floor, leaned against the bed with her spreading her pussy wide enough for him to see but not enough to see everything. The hints of red on her toes, on her fingers, and her glasses was something that was sending him on edge, especially with her dark skin.

Erik : Did I not tell you to touch yourself.. you tryna get that ass spanked I see.

(Y/N): Daddy I haven't touched myself, I just sent you pictures.

(Y/N): But it's so hard, can I play with one of your pillows daddy?

(Y/N): Technically I wouldn't be touching myself...

Erik : No little girl, what the fuck did I tell you

It was a minute before he received a response. He assumed she was upset with him for denying her a rightfully and much needed orgasm but he didn't care.

He was sadly mistaken.

There in their text thread, was a video of her riding one of his pillows, nipples hard, and clitoris grinding against the pillow. She was definitely in need of a orgasm with the way her clit was swollen and moving against the pillow.

Her eyes was to the back as she continued winding her hips, gripping onto the pillow with one hand and playing with her titties on the other hand.

With his eye twitching, his dick damn near pulsating, he knew he couldn't finish the rest of the shift.

[ereardon]

You Again [Part 3] [Hangman x Reader]

Summary: It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again. 

WC: 6K+ 

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death

Series masterlist; Part 1, Part 2 

Jake’s dog tags dangled around your neck, the ends tucked tightly inside your scrub top as you entered the OR scrub room. You felt the metal shifting against bare skin as you ripped open a sponge packet. Lost in thought, you scrubbed at your hands and forearms aggressively until you heard a voice over your shoulder.  

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Tina, your favorite nurse, tilted her head to look at you. She pulled down on her mask. “I’ve been watching you scrub for five minutes now. You’ve barely blinked. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, letting off the foot pump and watching the water come to a stop. You stepped through the automatic doors into the operating room, and Tina held out a cloth to dry your hands which you took before sliding on a fresh pair of gloves. You wiggled your fingers to make sure they were tightly fitted and nodded in acknowledgement. 

“First surgery of the day,” Tina said, tossing the used towel into the laundry bin near the wall. “There’s that quiet calm.” 

The room was bustling — the patient already sedated on the table, two medical students hovering in the corner with notebooks and nauseous looks on their faces, the anesthesiologist checking the ventilator, scrub nurses recounting the tools on the metal trays – but you understood what she meant. There was no blood on the floor. No damp cloud that trailed after the cases that ended with a zipped body bag. The first surgery of the day meant a clean slate. 

But it would only last for a moment. And then, chaos. 

Although you didn’t know it, while you were elbow deep in the chest cavity of a sixty-three year old man with a ruptured descending aorta, Jake was thousands of feet in the air, going head to head with enemy planes. As you called out for more clamps, more gauze, hang another blood bag, he’s bleeding out, Jake was traveling at nine hundred miles per hour, dodging bullets in a dog fight. You didn’t know that as the blood rained down over the table and across your shoes, as the lead surgeon called time of death, as you ripped off your gloves and slid down to the floor in despair, Jake’s plane was also descending, a wing on fire, out of bullets and out of time, a commander screaming into his headset to eject, a blinding whiteness overtaking him.   

All you heard was the heart monitor flatline, the urgent beeping that often haunted your dreams during call shifts sloping into a sharp whine. And then it stopped, bringing with it the all too familiar sound of death. 

Two weeks before

He was gone. 

You had done this before. Pulled yourself up, rebuilt your life after Jake Seresin left. But this time was different. There were his dog tags around your neck, for one. You had slipped them on after you finished reading his note, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. And unlike five years ago, you knew why he left this time. 

Before you even realized, you were in your car flying across the Coronado bridge. It was early, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. You had two hours until you had to scrub for your first surgery. You could make it. 

When you pulled up to the gates at the base, a man in uniform stopped you. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m here to see Lieutenant Seresin.” It came out rushed. Every second mattered. “I’m not signed in, but I was here just yesterday. It’s urgent.” 

He typed across his computer in the small booth outside the gated fence. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Lieutenant Seresin’s squadron is departing this morning. I’m not allowed to let visitors enter.” 

“Are they gone already?” 

“I can’t answer that.” 

“For fuck’s sake, is he here or not?” you screamed. The man’s face remained stoic, like concrete. Any other moment you would have felt guilty at the outburst. But the only thing that mattered was knowing whether or not Jake had gotten on the ship. 

“Ma’am, that is confidential. I’m not at liberty to say.” 

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, slamming into the driver’s seat and peeling back in reverse, throwing the car into park on the other side of the gatehouse. Your fingers trembled as you dialed Jake’s number by memory. “Please pick up, please pick up.” 

It rang and rang and every time it rang your heart sped up, nearing tachycardia. You could feel your heartbeat in your ear as it pressed against the phone.  

“Jake, fuck, please pick up.” 

Finally, “Y/N.” You gasped a little hearing your name on his lips. His voice was strained. 

A tear slipped out of your eye. “Jake, please, I’m here. I’m at the gate. They won’t let me in. They say you’re leaving today.” 

You heard him cough on the receiving line. “Bunny.” Or was he choking back tears? 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving today? I thought we had time!”

“Baby, I left this morning because I didn’t want this to happen.” He paused and you paced near the gate on shaky legs. “I meant everything I wrote. You’re the reason I’m going and you’re the reason I need to come back and I fucking promise you, Bunny, I’m coming back for you.” 

Tears started to form at your lower lid, obscuring your vision. You swiped at them. 

“You look so damn pretty, darlin’, even with tears down your beautiful face.” 

You sucked in a breath and pressed your free hand to the metal fence, watching a figure appear in the distance next to one of the white hangars. You could just make out Jake’s tanned physique in his green jumpsuit, a pair of sunglasses planted firmly over his eyes. 

“I’m coming back,” he said and you heard the gravelly voice give way to a softer, gentler Jake. Then, “Do you remember the summer after high school when we went to that party at Bobby’s house, and the cops came so we had to hide in the shed until the morning?”

You laughed despite the tears. “I had a shovel pressed into me the entire time. Pretty sure there’s still a dent in my rib cage because of it.” 

“Do you remember what you said to me that night?” Jake asked. “You said that you were happiest when we were together. Didn’t matter where, didn’t matter when, didn’t matter if we were doing something or not. You said that you were happier being trapped in Bobby’s dad’s gardening shed that night with me than you would have been inside with a bunch of random people.” 

His voice cracked at the end. This was the side of Jake that he didn’t let people see. The Jake that held your hand at the doctor’s appointment as they ran gene tests to make sure you wouldn’t have to go through what your mother went through. The Jake that had let you hold him in your arms the night before while he prayed to a God you weren’t sure he still believed in to bring him home safe. It was Jake, not Hangman, who needed you to need him. 

“I still feel that way, Y/N,” he breathed into the phone and you tightened your fingers around the metal of the fence. “If you’ll have me.” 

You slid your hand past the metal bars and made the OK sign with your fingers. There was a chuckle on the other end of the phone. 

“Be safe,” you whispered. “For me.” 

“Always,” he said. “I gotta go, Bun, we’re loading up. I love you.” The line went dead before you were able to respond. 

***

That first night after work you drove to the Hard Deck, your fingers shaking. You weren’t sure why you went. This time you had the foresight to change out of scrubs and into regular clothes, but you chose the same bar stool as the one you had occupied the night Jake waltzed back into your life. 

“What’ll you have sweetpea?” The brunette bartender from last time smiled at you across the wooden bar. 

“Vodka martini,” you said quietly. “Dirty.” 

She nodded and started to turn around. And then, “Y/N, right? You were here a few weeks ago, with Hangman.”

You were shocked that she was able to remember you amid the crowds of rowdy patrons. She smiled, reading your mind. 

“We don’t get a lot of scrubs in here,” she laughed. “And Pete’s team is pretty small, I try to keep tabs on all of them.” You looked at her blankly, despondent, and she reached her hand out to cover yours. “I know what you’re thinking. They’re coming back safe. I made Pete promise me.”

“There’s no guarantee,” you whispered, looking up and catching her eye. “We have no idea what they’re facing right now. We have no idea if they’ll ever walk through that door again.” Penny watched your eyes shift toward the entrance. 

“You’re right, we don’t know,” she said softly. “But I know Pete, and I know Hangman. And the way he looked at you, I’ve never seen him look at someone like that before.” 

You shook your head, embarrassed that tears had started to split down your cheeks. Penny passed you a napkin and you lifted it to your face. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

She smiled sadly. “Once or twice. Trust me, it never gets any easier.”

“Do you know when they’re coming back?”

She frowned. “No. I probably know about as much as you do.”

“I literally don’t know anything,” you whispered. “We, uh, we’re not together. Before the other night, I hadn’t seen him in five years.” 

Penny tilted her head. “You’re allowed to miss him. Doesn’t matter what you two are. If he means something to you, you get to be nervous.” 

You bit your lower lip and Penny slid the drink over to you. “This might help,” she said, smiling. “Or not, but this is a bar after all.” 

The vodka went down smooth. Too smooth. You felt light even just after one drink, and as you slid your card over to Penny to close you out, she placed her hand on your forearm. “You OK to drive?”

You nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be fine.” Your signature was sloppy, it had been since medical school, and she squinted at it briefly. “Doctor’s scrawl,” you said and Penny chuckled. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

“Come back, OK?” she said as you pulled your purse off from the hook beneath the bar. “I don’t know when they’ll be back, but I promise this will be the first place Mav comes. We’re open every night.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks.” She lifted an arm in a wave. 

The apartment was cold when you got back. Less than twenty-four hours before it had been filled with candlelight and Jake’s voice and delicious food and now it was empty. Wandering into the kitchen, you expected to find it crusted with remnants of the prior night’s dinner, but to your surprise it was cleaner than when you two had arrived home the night before. 

Jake. Of course he had cleaned up. That was just like him. 

In the living room, you collapsed on the couch, memories of the night before flashing behind closed eyelids. Jake’s hands caressing your face, fingers digging into your hips, sliding under your shirt, pressed against your back to bring you closer to him. His lips trailing over your entire body, planting kisses in your hair, intertwining with yours. His whispers rumbling in your ear, telling you he was sorry, saying he loved you. And later, telling you how scared he was. Letting you in, showing a softer side you had never seen before. 

As you stood to take a shower, wash away the reminders of the day, something caught your eye. The table next to the couch which held a small lamp and a framed photo felt off. You stepped closer and realized it was because the photo frame was empty. Picking it up, you turned the frame over in your hands. It was the same photo that Jake had on his mantel, the two of you on the beach at Kiawah. Setting it down, you reached for Jake’s note that still sat crumpled on the coffee table from where you had tossed it earlier in your rush out the door. His scrawl took up most of the first page and ended with his signature, but you turned it over just in case and gasped. There was writing on the second side. 

P.S. — Hope you don’t mind, but I needed a new good luck charm. Can’t believe you still had the photo. That is how I will always remember you. Beautiful, golden, all mine. It’s always been you. 

Days went by. Patients came and were discharged. You ran more ECGs and code blues and emergency bypasses than you thought were possible. At the end of every shift you drove back to the Hard Deck, often closing out the night with Penny on the beach. Sometimes after night shifts, you drove out there and sat alone on a picnic table around back, watching the sun rise over the crisp horizon, imagining Jake. What terrors was he facing? What thoughts were running through his mind? 

Your fingers gripped the dog tags. They had quickly become your good luck charm, just as they were Jake’s. Since you had slipped them over your head that first morning you hadn’t lost a single patient. 

Despite everything that had happened, you still didn’t know how Jake Seresin fit into your life. You finally had answers for why he walked away all those years ago, but was it enough?

***

You were seven, playing in the grassy field behind the elementary school. A group of boys playing kickball nearby were watching as you and two friends hopped around in a made up game, everyone acting out different animals. 

“I’m a pig!” one of the girls yelled, down on all fours with her nose flared wide. The second girl was flapping her arms as wings, imitating a bat. You hopped in a circle with both legs pressed tightly together, your hands and wrists fused out in front of your body, palms facing down toward the ground. 

Laughing, you had your head turned before you felt a bump and were knocked to the ground. 

“I’m sorry!” When you opened your eyes, there he was. Sandy blond hair, green eyes, bright blue t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, holding out a hand. “Here, let me help you.” 

You took his hand, which was caked in dirt, and let him pull you to standing. 

He smiled at you, the red textured kickball that only seconds ago had decked you now tucked nearly under one arm. “I’m Jake.”

“Y/N.”

He nodded. “Sorry for knocking you over.” 

You shrugged. “It’s OK, I guess.” 

“What were you guys doing?” He looked out at the other girls, still in the throes of their game. But standing there with Jake, the lingering tingle of his fingers still on your hand, as well as some very real dirt, you suddenly felt embarrassed by the childish games the other girls were playing. 

“Animal kingdom,” you whispered quickly, blushing.

“What animal are you?”

“A rabbit.”

He smiled and even back then it was dazzling. The other boys hollered at him from the kickball field, but he didn’t seem to be in any rush. Jake shifted his weight between his feet. Another shout from beyond made you tilt your head back at him. 

“Think it’s your turn.”

Jake began to turn around and join his team, but stopped first to give you a grin. “See you later, Bunny.” 

Your cheeks flamed red. Even then he was handsome and a smart ass and kind. 

You fell a little in love with Jake Seresin that day. 

***

You were sitting at the bar, nursing another martini, when you watched Penny’s face transform. It was a Tuesday night, quiet all around. But you were getting tired of waiting. You had lost a patient on the table earlier, a grandmother of nine. It broke you.  

Witnessing her and Mav felt like a movie. You saw her smile so wide it threatened to overtake her, watched as she scurried around the bar, threw herself into his waiting arms. He was wearing a khaki uniform, his hands pressed tightly around Penny like he couldn’t believe she was real. 

You stood up, watching them with an open mouth, your face turned toward the door, waiting. 

After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart and Mav stepped toward you, one hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s OK,” Mav said and those two words cleaved you in half. You fell back into the chair, choking back a sob, and Penny rushed to your side, patting your hair. “A little banged up, but OK. Everyone made it.” 

With Mav and Penny flanking you on either side, you felt like their child and it made you momentarily long for the parents you had lost. You couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. 

“You did good,” Mav said. “Whatever you said to him after our conversation, he took it to heart. He was incredible out there.” 

You shook your head. “I said what you told me to say.” 

“What do you mean what he told you to say?” Your heart stopped. The three of you whipped around to see Jake, followed by the rest of the dagger squad, filtering in through the side door. He looked more handsome than ever, but his mouth was drawn into a tight line. Your line of vision immediately went to his arm, which hung in a sling from his shoulder. “Y/N? What did he mean?”

You stood on wobbly legs and Jake stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. You looked up at him, acutely aware the rest of the team had taken their place near the pool table within hearing distance. “What happened to your arm?” You ran your fingers across his sharp jawline and he pulled your hand away.  

He shook his head. “Answer the question, Y/N.”

“Jake, it’s nothing,” you whispered. “Mav just mentioned to me that day I came to see you at Top Gun that in order to do well on the mission, all you needed was to believe in the fact that everything would be OK when you got back. That you and I would be OK.”

You couldn’t read his expression. “Believe? So everything you said, it was just because Mav asked you to?” Then, softly, “Was it all a lie?”

“Baby, no!” You reached out to place your hands on his face, but he scooted back so he was just out of reach. “Jake, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

He shook his head. “I tried to get past it, but there was something in the back of my head that just didn’t feel right. It felt too easy. Like why would you all of the sudden forgive me? After five years. After everything. But this,” he pointed toward Mav and Penny who were glued in place at the bar, “this makes sense. He asked you to do it so I wouldn’t fuck up the mission. He made you get in my head” 

“You think I slept with you because someone asked me to?” Tears had started to form behind your eyes. “You know me better than that, Jake.” 

“I used to know you.” The harshness of his voice tore you apart. 

“You know me,” you insisted softly. 

Jake was seething. “You didn't once say you love me,” he whispered and you felt his anger bubbling at the surface, alongside something else. Regret. “I fucking worshipped you. And you never once said you loved me back that night.” 

Your voice was stuck in your throat. Thick, like biscuits and gravy. He was right. You hadn’t. You did love him, you always had. You just didn’t trust him. “Jake, let’s go outside, OK? I don’t want to do this here.” You placed your hand on his arm and he shrugged it off so hard you stumbled, Mav stepping forward to catch you. 

As you looked up at Jake behind glassy eyes, you saw him looking at you, really looking, for perhaps the first time. He was angry. It radiated off of him like steam clouds in a cartoon. He was heartbroken. You could see it in the way his mouth trembled, the way his fists squeezed together at his sides. But he was also sorry. You watched him watch you stumble, watched his pupils widen and his jaw tighten as he fought his urge to save you. 

Maybe he was done trying to be your savior. 

All you wanted to do was step forward, gather him in your arms, try to explain everything. It wasn’t that you didn't love him. And you hadn’t spent the night with him to appease Mav or to ensure the mission’s success. You had done it for Jake. For the Jake who had pushed you through high school and stayed up late with you to study for the MCAT during college breaks. The Jake who had stood by you when everything else was falling apart and had pieced you back together. Jake who had loved you wholly, until the day he left. 

He whipped around and stormed out. You started to rise to follow him and Penny whispered in your ear. “Let him cool off.” 

Rooster rose from his seat. “I got him,” he said gruffly, following fifteen steps behind. Phoenix and Bob gave you looks of sympathy before standing up and joining you at the bar along with Penny and Mav. 

You were embarrassed but you dissolved into tears, feeling Penny hugging you from behind, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. Someone nudged a glass of water across the bar toward you. 

“The kid did good,” Mav said finally, breaking the silence. “He saved our asses and almost died in the process.” 

You swallowed tightly. “What happened out there? If you can tell us.” 

The team launched into a full recount of the mission. You watched their faces light up as they interrupted each other, talked over one another, finished each other’s sentences. You drank the water that Bob inched toward you and gave him a small smile, which he returned with a blush. 

After a while, Rooster walked back in and all eyes turned to him. You stood. Waiting. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s really upset. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.” Rooster took a step forward and placed his hand on your arm. “Give him time, OK? I sent him home. He’s not really in a place to talk right now, but he’ll come around.” 

You sighed. “I’m not so sure he will.” 

“Can I give you a ride home?”

You shook your head. “My car is here. I’m fine to drive.” 

“Let me walk you out then.” You nodded and pulled your purse out from under the bar. Penny hugged you and Mav gave you a pat on the shoulder. 

Phoenix closed in and wrapped her arms around you, whispering into your ear. “He loves you. He’s going to realize that’s what matters.” You smiled at her and she smiled back. 

Four weeks had changed everything. But one thing was the same: you and Jake were back to not talking. 

Rooster guided you out to your car. You clicked the button weakly, lighting up the headlights. “Déjà vu,” he said. You sniffled and reached for the handle, but Rooster’s hand shot out to cover yours. “Y/N. I gotta ask. Did you do it for the team like he thinks? Or do you love him?

“Because Hangman, for all his flaws, saved our asses out there. And he loves you. I’ve never seen him care this much about anyone, not even himself. So if you did it just to save us, that’s admirable and I can’t say I don’t appreciate it. But I have to ask you to walk away. Don’t drag it out with him if you’re not in it for the long haul. He’s a mess right now. He saw his life flash before his eyes and he thought there was someone he loved that he was fighting to go home to. Only to find out maybe she was never his to have.” 

Rooster looked at you, dropping his hand. You felt shaky and leaned up against the car door. Pulling the handle out, you slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key and rolling down the window. He put both hands on the open window frame and leaned in. “It’s always been Jake, for me,” you said quietly. “That was never a question. So no, I didn’t do it because Mav asked. I did it because I love him.”

Rooster breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled, standing up. “OK, good.”

“But I just don’t know if he and I have a future.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I needed him to be safe. I needed him to be OK. And I know he needed me to be here when he got back,” you exhaled. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive him for everything. If I can just go back to how things were, pretending like the last five years didn’t happen. I don’t know if we can rebuild things and act like we haven’t lived different lives. Like we didn’t plan different futures for ourselves. Like he didn’t make promises to other girls that are just like me. Like he didn’t walk out of my life once without a single care in the world.” 

You felt a stream of tears coming, and you gripped the gear shift tightly, yanking it back into reverse. 

“Goodbye, Bradley,” you said, throwing the car into drive, the headlights piercing the darkness ahead. 

In the rearview mirror, you saw him standing in the dust you had kicked up in your wake, hands on his hips, shaking his head. As the tears started to bloom in your eyes, he almost started to look like Jake. 

***

You gave him three days. You had left a smattering of voicemails and texts, all unanswered. Finally, you gave into the panic and dialed Bob. 

“Hello?” There was a small southern twang in there that made you smile, reminded you of Texas. But that only served to make you think of Jake, and immediately you felt a lump form in your throat. 

“Bob, hi. It’s Y/N.”

“Hey there,” he said. “Let me guess, you’re looking for Jake?”

“Yeah, I uh, I left messages and voicemails but he’s not answering. Have you seen him?”

Bob hesitated and you pressed him. 

“He told you guys not to talk to me.” 

“Something like that.” 

You sighed into the receiver. “Guess I deserve that.”

“I shouldn’t tell you this, but everyone’s going to the Hard Deck tonight for Phoenix’s birthday. He’ll be there.”

“I could kiss you Bob.”

He laughed. “Don’t make Bagman any angrier at me than he already will be.” 

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye, Y/N.” 

Your hands shook as you pulled into the gravel parking lot later that night. Smoothing out your blue sundress, the one you wore because you knew how Jake felt about sundresses, you adjusted the gift you held in one hand. It was nearing ten o’clock – you had tried to guess a time that would guarantee Jake would have shown up, but not so late that he would have already left. 

Inside, it was rowdy. Friday night in full swing, the entire bar packed to the brim with uniforms. A few heads turned as you entered alone. Immediately, you spotted the team in the back. They were wearing their khakis again, Phoenix laughing and blowing out candles over a white cake that Penny held in her arms. You made your way slowly through the throng of people before a hand reached out to grab your arm. 

“Hey sweetheart, can I get you a drink?” A brunette in uniform has his thick fingers wrapped around your upper arm and despite trying to shake them off you weren’t able to. “What’s a beautiful thing like you doing here all alone?”

You opened your mouth to tell him off before a hand came around your shoulders and the brunette stepped back. “Hands off the lady, Campbell. She’s with us.” Turning to your left you saw Rooster with his arm around you, once again wearing a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned too far. 

The guy held up his hands in apology. “My bad, Bradshaw. Didn’t know.” 

Rooster steered you away, toward the group in the back. Bob spotted you first, smiling behind his wire frames. Your eyes landed on Jake immediately. He had one arm propped up on Phoenix’s shoulder, grinning wide. You hesitated for a split second, not wanting to make a scene on Phoenix’s night, but Rooster scooted you along. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered in your ear. 

You almost tripped in your heeled sandals, stumbling forward and catching the group’s attention. Phoenix lit up when she saw you and rounded the corner of the table to give you a hug. 

“Happy Birthday,” you said softly, handing her the gift. “I wasn’t sure if it was a presents type of thing.” 

“With me it’s always a presents type of thing,” she said, looping her arm through yours and pulling you toward the group. “Come on, we were just cutting the cake. Doctors eat cake, right?”

“This doctor does,” you murmured and she laughed. Jake’s eyes were on you, his tension palpable in the already humid air of the bar. Penny slid a piece of cake over to you and you took a bite as Phoenix opened her gift, pulling out the trio of Le Labo candles and a bottle of champagne. 

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands around your neck. “I love it.”

You smiled and hugged her back, despite Jake’s hot glares on your skin. Bob appeared at your side holding out a beer and you took it, chatting with him for a moment. Across the table, Rooster had inched up behind Jake and was whispering in his ear. Out of the corner of your eye you watched as the pair, formerly enemies, spoke in hushed tones with muted body language. 

Finally, mid-conversation with Bob and Coyote, you felt a hand come around your waist. Looking up, you saw Jake standing behind you and to your left. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and Bob and Coyote shot you knowing glances. Jake offered his hand, and guided you out the back door and down the beach toward a picnic table. He sat on the top of the table, his boots planted on the bench seat and you followed suit. 

“How’d you know I’d be here?” he asked quietly. 

“Just a really good guess.”

“Oh yeah? You always just walk around with birthday presents for Phoenix?” he teased and you laughed. Jake’s face perked up at the sound. 

“Don’t be mad at them, OK? They were just trying to help us.”

He shook his head. “I know. They’re all meddlers anyway.”

You reached out and touched his hand that was splayed on the wooden table. “What happened to the sling?”

“It was just a dislocation. Doc said I could stop wearing it after a few days.”

Your lips formed a pinched line. “Mind if I take a look?” Jake shook his head and you pushed yourself off the table, standing between his legs. Gently, your fingers circled his shoulder, lifted his arm softly, pressed against the joint. “Does that hurt?”

He looked at you, a quiet frown on his handsome face. “Yeah, it hurts.” 

“I still think you should wear the sling,” you said, dropping your hands. “And ice it, twice a day. I don’t care whatever your doctor is saying, no heat. Got it?”

“It’s not the shoulder that hurts, Y/N.”

You gently rested your hands on his thighs. “Jake, I’m sorry. Things got really messed up the other night. But I need you to know that I do love you. And I didn’t try to trick you or whatever you’re thinking. I would never do that to you.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know, I jumped to conclusions. But the idea that you let me back in that night just to make sure I would be able to fly, that hurt, Y/N. It really hurt.”

“I let you in because I missed you,” you said, pressing your fingers harder into his muscular legs. “Why would I have come here, to this bar, every single night for two weeks waiting for you to come home if I didn’t give a shit?”

Jake raised his head. “You did that?”

You nodded. “Jake, these last few weeks have been a daze. It’s like I was on autopilot. And then I would feel these,” you yanked at the chain around your neck, pulling the dog tags out of where they had been tucked inside your bra and you felt Jake suck in a breath, “and remember what I was fighting for. I was fighting for you. For us.” 

His hand slid into his front pocket, pulling out the folded up photo of the two of you that he had taken from your apartment. Jake unfolded it carefully. “I flew better in this mission than any other flight in my entire life,” he whispered. “And it’s not because I knew how important it was, or because I was just having a particularly good day. It was because of you. You’re the reason I needed to come home. You’ve always been the reason, Y/N. I just let myself forget it.” 

He tucked the photo back into his pocket and pressed one hand to each side of your face. 

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “I’m scared you’re going to leave me again. That I’m going to have to pick myself up in your wake. I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”

Jake paused. Then, “Do you love me? Not back then. Not when we were kids. Do you love me now?”

Lifting your gaze to Jake’s, you nodded. 

A thumb grazed your cheekbone. “I’m going to need to hear you say it, darlin’. I need to know this is real.” 

You pulled him to standing so the two of you were only inches apart. Jake slid an arm around your waist, and you wrapped your hands around his neck. “I love you, Jake. It’s you. It’s always been you. I just need you to promise that you’re not going to run away again.” 

A small yelp left your mouth as Jake bent down and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. Supported by one arm, he lifted a hand to brush the hair out of your eye and tuck it behind your ear. “I am never leaving you again, Bunny. Not if I have any say in the matter.” 

You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, felt Jake’s hands tighten where they held you up. Inside, you heard a round of cheering, Rooster taking his place at the piano. 

Jake pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours, smiling. “Guess you're finally going to marry me now? Just like we talked about when we were kids.” 

Your hands raked through his hair, green eyes glued to yours. “Lieutenant and Doctor Seresin. That sounds pretty good to me.” 

“Bunny girl, anything with you sounds good to me.” 

Four years later 

“Don’t let him eat so much ice cream, he’s going to get sick!” 

Jake chuckled and pulled your back against him, letting you sink your weight into him as he rubbed circles on your expanding stomach. “It’s his birthday, just let him be Bunny.”

You sighed and turned around, pressing your fingers to his cheeks. “God, you are an absolute pushover, did you know that?”

He laughed again and grabbed your hands, pressing kisses to the inside of both wrists. “Only because we make really cute kids.” 

“Yeah, this one better be cute, I’m sick of getting kicked in the kidney,” you muttered. 

Across the yard, you spotted your son sitting on Rooster’s shoulders, playing with a toy airplane. 

“I wonder who he got that from.”

“That would be me.” You both turned to see Bob, Phoenix and Fanboy approaching. They hugged you and Jake, and Phoenix’s eyes widened at your growing stomach. “What else are godmothers good for?” she asked, pressing one hand to your stomach. “Still no update on this one?”

Jake shook his head. “We’re stuck on girl names.”

“Girls are tricky,” you said, sitting down on a foldout chair, Jake coming to stand behind you, his large hands massaging your shoulders gently. 

“C’mmon, you’re not going to name her Bradley, too?” Rooster appeared out of nowhere, your son giggling in his arms. You started to reach out for him, but he lept into Bob’s arms instead and the group laughed as the two-year-old began to climb the WSO like a tree. 

“One Bradley in this family is enough,” Jake huffed and you squeezed his fingers. 

“It’s not even his first name!” Rooster exclaimed, cracking open a beer. “Just his middle name.”

“It’s been two years, man, let it go,” Phoenix laughed. “They named him after her dad, can’t really compete with that.” 

Rooster nodded slowly. “Yeah, well, I’m still rooting for Bradley for the next one.”

“It’s a girl!” you chuckled, running a hand over your belly. 

“We still have three months to decide.” Jake planted a kiss on your temple and crossed over to take his son out of Bob’s arms. He lifted the little boy into the air and you watched as he laughed. 

“Where’s my godson?” Everyone’s eyes turned to the edge of the fence where Mav and Penny were entering, their hands full of gifts. You sighed and watched your son light up. 

“Mav!” he yelled, his tiny voice barely able to reach across the yard. 

Maverick put the gifts down, crouching and holding open his arms. Jake set your son onto the ground and everyone watched as the toddler ran toward Mav, who scooped him up in a big hug. 

“Hey there Hangbaby,” he said and you stifled back a laugh. The baby callsign never got old. 

The song changed and everyone was on their feet. Jake held out a hand and pulled you up, one hand coming to rest on your back and the other on your stomach. You watched as Jake’s teammates who had quickly become family started to dance in the backyard. Your son sat in Mav’s arms as he bounced from foot to foot to the music. 

Jake leaned down and pressed his mouth close to your ear. “I love you, Bunny.” 

You smiled and leaned your head back against Jake as he shifted to cradle you from behind, swaying to the song. 

All those years ago you thought you were saving him. You never once thought that he might be the one to save you. 

THE END

A/N: Thank you everyone for your love on this series! I absolutely lied when I said part 3 would be short. On the hunt for my next TGM fic so if you have any requests please drop them in the comments! 

Tag list: @notanordinaryprincess95 @coleishere @shanimallina87 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @fangirling-4-ever @lgg5989  @smoothdogsgirl @kkrenae @wishfulwithwine @pariahsparadise @madslake06 @alana4610 @abaker74 @muushwrites @another-tblr-fangirl @avoirlecoupdefoudre @mrsharringtonmunson @greenteaandsagetea @thegirlnextdoorssister @n3ssm0nique @lover-of-nights @multiplefandommess

[razor-tits]

A very long and over due life update.

So, to start this off I guess I need to back up. Let's start in October. It feels like yesterday but also a lifetime ago. Things were...ok I'd say. Boring, routine, the only shake up was my hormones ran out and my job was changing our insurance, so I had to cancel my follow up appointment for bloodwork and a refill. But then I got some bad news from my parents.

My dad had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He was ok, but he needed surgery. First they thought just a stent, but then decided he needed a triple bypass. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, but we're kind of distant. I live a few hours away and only see them around the holidays but we talk on the phone weekly. My dad can lean a little on the conservative side but both of them are the absolute salt of the earth. They're done so much to help me and I felt powerless to be able to help. I couldn't leave work and felt like there was nothing I could do.

The next couple weeks were rough, my dad was staying in the hospital, my mom was going back and forth staying with him and taking care of my grandma, who is in her late 80's and has a litany of health issues. On a Friday I finally managed to make the drive home and spend the weekend there. Seeing my dad laid up in a hospital gown tied to machines is something i'll never forget. He could get up and move and acted like he was ok. But he's one of those guys you meet and you think he's invincible. The kind of guy that put a new roof on our house with a broken finger and can't turn away a stray animal at the door. Some family members I hadn't seen in a long time came and went over the weekend. Thoughts of our own mortality set in and I realize this could be the last time I see any of them.

I've lost people before. Some of them suddenly and unexpectedly. Others who's death was almost a sigh of relief after fighting for so long. I never got to say goodbye when my friend died and I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I don't want to feel that again, ever.

The day of surgery came. He was in the OR for 3 hours but it felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. A few hours after that my mom and I were able to see him. He was extubated already, which was a good sign. But he was on heavy medication, incoherent, coming in and out of sleep. But he knew I was there and that's all that mattered.

I had to leave and make my way back to my parents to get my dog, and then make the 2 hour drive back to Ohio and go back to work in the morning. At this point I knew my dad would be ok, he just had to get through recovery. But now thoughts of my own health were worrying me. I'm not in the best shape, I don't exercise or work out. I've already had surgery to fix stomach problems. Everyone on my dad's side has heart problems, and everyone on my mom's side has cancer and diabetes. There's not much I do to prevent any of that. I'm in my 30's and I feel it, maybe more than I should.

Over the next couple months my mental health continues to fall. I had a birthday and spent it sick, as I always seem to do. It's always a rough time of year for me. Seasonal depression kicks in, I get older, and another year passes. My dog, my best friend, the reason I kept myself alive, is getting old. I see it more and more every day and it breaks my heart.

The holidays came and went. I saw my grandma for the first time in a few years. Always wondering if it will be the last. Despite that, this year I never felt less in the holiday spirit. I used to love this time of year, now I desperately try to enjoy it, but part of me just wants it to be over. The best part seems to be a few days off work.

At this point it should be noted I have not restarted hormones. My identity has always been more in flux than i've let on, and maybe that needs to be it's own post, but I don't know if I want to start again or not. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my goals are. I don't know who i am. Beyond basic hygiene, I really don't even feel like taking care of myself most days. I pretty much always feel melancholic. I'm not angry, I don't get excited, I don't have much joy. My sex drive is non existent and I have no desire to do...well, anything.

New year's comes and I honestly couldn't care. It feels like another day. My gf and I go out and have an Ok time. I'm just so tired all the time it's hard for me to go out and enjoy myself like I used to.

And then, a couple days ago my landlord calls. We have to move out. Not sure when, but probably soon. I'm heartbroken and panicking over it. We absolutely love our house. We've only been here about a year and a half but it's been wonderful. It has plenty of room, privacy, it's quiet. We can leave our doors unlocked and packages aren't stolen off our porch. We're allowed both of our dogs and all 3 of our cats with no issues. We've invested so much time and money here. My gf is close with the owners and their children, who were the previous tenants. We even thought about trying to buy this house off of them when their other kid moves out of the downstairs apartment. And it's affordable. Anything else like what we have now will cost double and we can't afford that.

Our last apartment was tiny, cramped, dark and ran by an awful property investment company. And now we have to deal with that again. If we can even find a place where we can take 5 animals. We can hide 2 of the cats, but not all of them. We're in no position to buy nor do we have the time to go through the process. My gf said we may have to find 2 different apartments and live separately for a while. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. I can't live without her, I can't live without our pets. We're a family. I don't know what to do.

Since I got the phone call I've done nothing but panic, contact rental agencies and weigh my options. None of them are good. Best case scenario is we move in a smaller, worse place, paying more rent.

Nothing is going right for me. I know this isn't insurmountable and nothing that people haven't gone through before. But...god damn I need a break and I can't get one.

[newhologram]

Okay, baby’s first surgery. Had to be at the hospital at 5:30am. They did more pre-op labs and EKG just to be extra safe. Both arms’ veins aren’t in great shape so they didn’t even try the IV there. They couldn’t get my left hand but were able to get my right (ow!). Blood rushed out all over my hand, oops. Techs kept asking if I had kids, presumably because I was about to get sterilized. Every time I told them I have 4 cats, they laughed. They all took good care of me and my main nurse remembered me from my 3 day flare-up stay last year. The anesthesiologist asked about the fibromyalgia. He understood that it makes surgery a lot more painful (plus slower healing and can cause a flare) so he made sure to have the right drugs ready for me. He even asked if I have a pain doctor so I explained the whole ordeal I went through getting and losing mine, how I can’t get one that’ll give me the right meds. He shook his head and expressed frustration at how hard it is for patients to get adequate pain management. 100%, dude. Then I finally got to meet the surgeon. Been going to his OBGYN office for a few years but never got to interact with him. We went over the procedure and he warned me that there’s a chance the endometriosis might make it hard for him to even access my uterine tubes. I let him know about my past MRI findings (lesion on bladder, multiple on colon, kidneys backed up, enlarged pelvic lymph nodes, fatty liver) so he kept that in mind. When I woke up, it was instant shaking and crying. The pain was so bad it had my teeth chattering, the same kind of terrible cramping I get from the endo. Someone goofed and had already taken out my IV before I woke up so they had to put it back into my sore hand to give me a dose of hydromorphone. One wasn’t enough though, I couldn’t settle down, so they gave me another. Thankfully the pain’s been manageable since I got home, I’m mostly sore and tender at the incisions. So tiny! Other than that, my throat and mouth are raw from the breathing tube and I'm definitely feeling the gas pain referring to my shoulders. I was hoping to talk to the surgeon after to hear how it went but he was already gone💀Bruh. No info about whether there were any cysts or lesions. I have to wait 2 weeks for a follow up. I know we have to wait for pathology anyway but I wanted to hear what he saw in there. Hope I get to see pics at the follow up at least. :\ I was also sent home without antibiotics or painkillers, which I think must be a mistake? I was told at my consult a year ago I’d be given stuff. So gotta call them again tomorrow. Luckily I still have some bentyl so I took that as soon as I got home. They cleared me for cannabis and whatever else I need right away. Going to see about getting another vitamin IV infusion soon. My friend is going to stay with me during the day to help me out this first week but I’m still taking extended time off to focus on rest and healing. So far my body isn’t freaking out as bad as I thought it would but we’ll see. Relieved to officially be permanently sterilized. ❌🤰 Thanks for all the messages! I’ll keep everyone updated when I learn more.

[tarttheart]

PRECIOUS LOVE: CHAPTER 2 - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you recall the painful loss.

word count: 560

warnings: mention of pregnancy loss

-

chapter 2: saw what state I was in

Later that evening, you found yourself lying on the couch, sonogram in hand as you thought about everything leading up to today.

You recalled that vague sense of indecision when you first registered the two lines on the pregnancy test. But, honestly, it lasted only a second or two because you quickly resolved yourself to keeping your baby. It was going to be your baby, your little baby Lemy. It did not matter whether or not Jamie was going to be there for the ride or not.

You rested your hand on your belly which now held nothing but thought about when your baby rested in there. You thought about the love you had for baby Lemy long before it became much more than that. You knew you were going to shower it with far more love than it would ever know what to do with. And, perhaps it had been thoughts like that that had been your downfall. You had gotten too attached far too early because it had been a steep decline into despair. While the blood work had shown positive signs of pregnancy, Lemy was on the smaller side during scans.

Nothing to worry about, you chanted to yourself in an effort to manifest destiny. Alas, it was never to be. When you went for the follow-up scan, you recognized the ultrasound technician’s expression long before the news left her mouth.

“Your pregnancy is not viable.”

You had a vague memory of the discussions you had on next steps with the Doctor and making the decision for the surgery. You remembered feeling alone when you went in. You remembered seeing others supported by their loved ones while no one even knew the position you were in.

You threw yourself into your work because what else were you going to do? All the plans you had made had been thrown out the window when you thought you might have another to care for. But now that that was not happening, you could not remember a single thing you had wanted to do besides cuddle baby Lemy. The pregnancy had really only spanned two weeks of your life. But, you had spent every waking minute of every day thinking about names and looking at baby furniture so losing baby Lemy had left a big hole in your heart.

Seeing Kevin had been difficult. You had done an adequate job at keeping all your emotions at bay on your own while away but Kevin knew you too well. It was too hard to keep it a secret from him in person and he had provided everything you had needed in the moment. He had been a safe space for you to talk about what had happened and to cry about what had not. He held you, not saying too much as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” He asked.

You shrugged, “Kevin, you’re the first person I’ve ever told. I’m not sure I can imagine telling anyone else right now.”

Kevin nodded, “tell him, don’t tell him, do what’s right for you. Just remember whether it’s from him or not, you’re not alone and you have support.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I have to go now, I was due back at the stadium half an hour ago. We love you, yea?”

-

< chapter 1 | master list | chapter 3 >

[madsworld15]

Part 3 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me

Fic 2 of my Asexual as Folk Series

For the next few days, Brian and Jennifer rarely left Justin’s side. The young teen remained in a coma, but with each passing day, his prognosis got better. On the second day, the neurosurgeon was able to go in and complete the surgery they had started the night of his attack. With his head injury taken care of and his internal bleeding getting better on its own, what remained was a waiting game.

Justin was no longer on the ventilator, and the cannula in his nose was simply there as a precaution, not that the doctors really felt he needed assistance with getting oxygen. His doctor told Brian and Jennifer, on the morning of the third day, that his brain activity had shown signs of improving. He was optimistic that Justin would come out of his coma very soon. That was hours ago, and Brian was getting anxious. Was there something wrong with Justin that the doctors missed? Is that why he hasn’t woken up yet?

He was tired of just sitting around; he needed to move. Brian needed to get out of the four walls of this hospital. It had been almost a full 24 hours since he had last left Justin’s room for more than just a bathroom break. Brian stood up and placed a hand on Jennifer’s shoulder. He gave her a small smile and then motioned his head to indicate that he was going to step outside for a second.

“It’ll be good for you. Take all the time you need.” Jennifer returned his smile.

Brian walked toward the courtyard near the ICU. The air was a bit chilly, and despite wearing a long-sleeved button-down, Brian found himself huddling against himself to try to stay warm. Having not slept in almost 15 hours, Brian was exhausted and didn’t know how he was going to properly function in his client meeting via phone in two hours. He’d tried getting out of all work for the last few days, but this meeting couldn’t be rescheduled because the customer wanted their ad to go live by the end of the week.

Brian pulled out his cigarettes and quickly lit one. He’d needed a smoke for days now but hadn’t dared to try. He didn’t want the doctors or Jennifer to say anything. Now, he was so stressed and exhausted that his nerves were constantly on edge. He needed something to ease the tension that was now a permanent fixture in his muscles.

A few minutes later, Brian stubbed out the butt of his cigarette and rolled the non-lit end between his thumb and forefinger as he thought back over the last few days. He’d never admit it out loud, but he hadn’t breathed easy in days. The idea that Justin could die had haunted his every moment. For reasons beyond even his understanding, Brian couldn’t picture a life without the kid in it. He threw the butt into the trashcan by the door.

The cell phone in his pocket rang just as he was ready to go back inside. He looked at the caller ID and saw his sister’s name. He rolled his eyes and almost ignored her completely. But she’d been hounding him for ages, calling at least four times a day for the last 4 or 5 days. 

“What do you want Claire?” Brian sighed and rubbed his temples with his other hand.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Brian.” Claire sounded completely put out, but what else was new. His sister always had something to complain about.

“I’ve been busy. I would think me not answering your calls would give you a clue.” Brian was barely able to keep his own sanity in check at the present, let alone try to talk his overly emotional sister off her own ledge.

“I can’t take it anymore. Mommy is drinking more than ever before. She’s never happy, no matter what I do. I need a break.” Claire whined through the phone.

“So take one. She’s an adult. Let her make her own decisions.” Brian sighed before he hung up on Claire. Two minutes was more time than he’d really been able to handle.

Brian shoved his phone back into his pocket and opened the door. The warmth of the hospital was only a degree or two above that of the outside, but it was enough for Brian to welcome the change in temperature. He made his way back to Justin’s room, and the sight he was greeted with pushed all the air out of his body. There in his bed, Justin was awake and mumbling something to his mom, who was crying once more. The minute Brian entered the room, Justin turned his head to him. 

“Brian.” Justin grinned a crooked grin. Brian took a deep breath and willed his eyes not to tear up. 

“I thought I’d never hear your voice again.” Brian finally said as he crossed the room and gently took Justin’s hand in his own. Despite his efforts, tears fell from Brian’s eyes.

Justin didn’t say anything in response, just squeezed Brian’s hand. The two made eye contact, and Brian refused to blink. He worried that if he tore his eyes away for even a second, it would all prove to be a dream. He rolled his lips over his teeth and gave the smallest of smiles. Without turning away from Justin, Brian brought his other hand up to caress his cheek and spoke to Jennifer.

“How long?”

“He opened his eyes about five minutes after you stepped out.” 

Brian nodded his head and fell silent. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how. He cared deeply about Justin, and he knew that Jennifer could see that, but Brian wasn’t someone who went around talking about said feelings. Being raised to be silent but present meant that Brian had never developed the emotional maturity or communication skills to be comfortable with such declarations. Instead, he showed through his actions and hoped that people caught on. If they didn’t, well, that was on them, wasn’t it?

Justin smiled groggily at him and then said tiredly, “My mom was trying to tell me what happened, but she doesn’t know everything.”

“You don’t remember?” Brian looked from Jennifer, who looked away, and Justin, who shook his head.

“The last thing I remember was Emmett saying ‘Go Baby!’ the moment I signed up for the King of Babylon contest. I don’t remember dancing, I don’t remember after, and I definitely don’t remember whatever got me here.” Justin explained.

Brian didn’t know which he preferred, that Justin remembered everything about that night, including the viscous attack, or that he didn’t remember the painful, damaging events. Either option hurt in some way, and that was something he wasn’t used to at all.

He stared up at the ceiling as he contemplated how much he would tell Justin. 

“I remember everything. But I wish I could forget the bad parts.” He let go of Justin’s hand to rub both his hands down his face.

Justin’s eyes went soft, and he reached for Brian’s hand. “There were good parts?”

Brian bit his lip and contemplated how much he was willing to reveal, how much he wanted to give away.

“You won King of Babylon for one.” Brian shrugged with a smirk on his face.

Just then, Brian’s cell phone rang again. He was certain it was his sister again. So, he ignored it. When Justin gave him a curious look, Brian waved him off. There was no reason for him to leave Justin at this moment, especially not for his overly dramatic sister.

“And,” Brian paused, unable to figure out how to explain what he had said to Michael and why. “I pissed Mikey off by telling him we were together.”

“You told him the truth?” Justin’s eyes lit up, and Brian knew despite whatever reservations he had about admitting things out loud, he would do anything to ensure Justin’s eyes never lost that light ever again.

Brian shrugged just as his phone went off again. He wanted desperately to ignore it, but considering he’d been out of the office for days, there was now a chance it was a work-related emergency. Sure enough, he pulled it out of his pocket and recognized the number as coming from his boss. He looked up at Justin with an apology in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I have to deal with this. I promise I’ll come back later.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a busy guy.” What he didn’t say, but Brian heard loud and clear, was, ‘I’m surprised you have stuck around.’

As Brian exited the room, he heard Jennifer reassure Justin that Brian would be back. After all, he had spent the last three days there with her. But Brian knew, and he knew Justin did too, that there was no set time frame for his return ‘later.’ Brian had been ignoring that he even had a job for the last three days, but now that his bubble had popped, he couldn’t ignore the stress coiling up in his stomach at the state of his accounts.

He arrived at the office about 20 minutes later. Cynthia met him just outside his office, by her desk, with a look of apology. He had told her what had happened to Justin so that he could have some peace these last few days.

“I’m so sorry. I know you said you were taking the whole week, but then the art department lost the file containing the mockups for Liberty Air, and Ryder was fuming. He told me to get you here, or he would have your pink slip.” She grabbed his jacket from him and continued, “I refused, but in a show of dominance, he called you.”

“Cynthia,” Brian put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Breathe. It’s fine. I can come in for a few hours if it’ll make Ryder happy.”

“But, Justin?” 

“He woke up about an hour ago. He’s going to be fine. I need to focus on the Liberty Air account, so tell me. How bad is it really?” Brian walked past her and into his office. He immediately poured himself a glass of water and sat behind his desk for the first time in almost a week.

“Well, I’m pretty sure Ryder is seconds away from firing half of the art department. So, maybe you could say something?” Cynthia gave him a pleading look as she gently draped his jacket on the hook. 

“Why do I need to step in?” Brian knew he should, but a part of him, the extremely exhausted part, didn’t have the energy to even bother with it.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t care. I’ve worked for you way too long for fall for any of that.” Cynthia chided him.

He was about to snark back at her; being around Cynthia had softened his edges a bit and made him feel normal for the first time in days when Ryder appeared at his door.

“Ah, I thought I saw you walk past my office, Brian.” Mr. Ryder’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. “Glad to see whatever had you away is taken care of now.”

Ryder’s lack of interest in his employee’s lives had never bothered Brian before. In fact, he had loved it. But, right now, fresh off a three-day stint at the hospital with little to no sleep, Brian was irritated by it.

“My partner isn’t going to die. Thanks so much for the concern, Ryder.” Brian seethed and gave his boss the kind of glare he reserved mostly for his interactions with his mother.

“Liberty Air will be here for the sit-down meeting with us in about 20 minutes. Where are we at with getting the mockups situated?” Ryder chose to ignore Brian’s statement.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and dispelled any thoughts he had of Justin. He needed to focus if he had any hope of keeping his job. Ryder was an understanding man, to a point, but if Brian fumbled the play with Liberty Air, one of their biggest clients, he would be packing his things.

“The art department said they would have a new mockup in your hand within ten minutes.” Cynthia addressed Brian directly, who in turn gave Ryder a look, essentially dismissing him.

Ryder left Brian’s office in a huff, saying he would see Brian at the client meeting shortly.

“So, when exactly am I supposed to see these mockups?” Brian leaned his head against his hands. 

“Right now,” Came a voice from the doorway. Brian looked up and laid eyes on the head of the Ryder art department, Mitch.

“Thanks, Mitch.” Brian got up and met the man at the door to go over what he presented. “Can we quickly change the size of the font to be one size bigger? Otherwise, this looks exactly like what the customer is looking for.”

Mitch nodded, and in a flash, he was gone once more, down the hall toward his shared working space. 

“I would rather eat nails than do this customer meeting right now,” Brian admitted to Cynthia. Of all the people in his professional life, Brian trusted no one like he trusted Cynthia. She always called him on his bullshit and kept him from burning the candle at both ends sometimes.

“I think Ryder is worried,” Cynthia whispered conspiratorially. “Rumor has it he’s trying to sell the company and is worried that if we lose any of our current clients, no one will bite.”

“Why is he looking to sell?” Brian asked her, finally starting in on his overflowing inbox. The start of a stress headache already forming.

“Not sure, but I’ll bet my money on money and retirement.” Cynthia handed Brian two ibuprofen before giving him a wink and walking out the door.

Over the next 6 hours, Brian flitted from his meeting with Liberty Air, which he managed to smooth over any bumps, to working on all the other client work that had piled up during his time off. He didn’t even look at the clock again until Cynthia knocked on his door. She was on her way out for the night and had wanted to check on him as well.

“Oh fuck. I didn’t realize how late it was.” Brian responded when a glance at the clock on his computer told him it was a quarter to 8 already. “Yeah, I’m leaving too.”

He got up, flipped off his computer, gathered up his client files, and put them in a pile to be handled tomorrow. Then he grabbed his coat and followed Cynthia out the door.

“You going to see Justin?” Cynthia asked him with a knowing look.

“I am going to call his mom and check how he’s doing. Then I am going to go home and sleep.” Brian admitted. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Justin. It’s just that he needed to be well-rested for work the next day, considering all he needed to catch up on.

“If you say so.” Cynthia’s words held weight, and Brian felt guilty for not feeling bad about his decision.

“I just spent three days straight sitting at his bedside. He’ll be fine without me for one night.” Brian scoffed as he left her in favor of climbing in his own Jeep. He rolled down the window and added, “See you tomorrow, Cynthia.”

*****

In fact, Brian didn’t have time to make it back to visit Justin until Saturday afternoon, three days after he left to go handle his work emergency. He’d forgotten how all-consuming his job could be sometimes. Despite not making it to see Justin during normal visiting hours, all that he was allowed now that he was on a regular floor, Brian had called Jennifer every day to check in and relay to her his message of care and encouragement for Justin. He felt bad having not been to see the kid for three whole days that he brought him a gift. It wasn’t much, just a silly little stuffed frog wearing a shirt with sunshine and a rainbow on it that he’d found at the gift shop, but still, it was more than he’d ever done for someone else before.

“Did you talk to my mom yet today?” Justin smiled at Brian as he handed the teen the stuffed frog.

“Nah. I figured I’d be seeing you. I didn’t need to.” Brian plopped down in the chair next to the bed, “Why?”

“I’m getting released tomorrow. I still have to do in-patient rehab at a specialty care facility, but no more hospital.” Justin was so excited Brian didn’t have the heart to remind him that the rehab center would probably be very similar to the hospital.

“That’s great. See, you’ll be back to earning tips at the diner in no time.” Brian smirked. “And putting Warhol to shame in the art studio at PIFA.”

“I doubt it.” Justin’s mood dipped at the mention of art. “My rehab therapist said I’ll be lucky if I regain 80% function in my hand.”t

“The way I see it, that’s still a passing grade. Besides, I doubt you’ll give up at a measly 80%.” Brian winked at Justin and patted his thigh fondly.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t ever draw again.” Justin acted as though he didn’t even hear what Brian had said.

“Justin,” Brian nudged the teen until he made eye contact with him. “Doctors always downplay things to keep themselves free of a lawsuit. They say things like you’ll never walk again, talk again, or draw again so that when you do, you’ll think they worked a miracle, and they can charge you an arm and a leg.”

“Trust me, you’re going to draw again. Don’t listen to his bullshit.”

[ja0-s-blank-canvas-fic]

Part 3 - Chapter 47 - Limbo

Blank Canvas Part 3

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Fanfiction.net - here

Heyo! Sorry for the delay. I was right in the middle of moving houses and transferring to a different store so I had no time to post last week. I also bought a new mattress that I had to get set up on Tuesday last week on top of everything else. So I was a teeny tiny bit busy. ^___^ Like I've been literally living out of boxes in an almost empty house surrounded by dust bunnies. Only the sound of the show on my laptop and the owls out back for company. -plays the worlds smallest violin for myself- Anyway! Update time is now!

Linktree to all the things!

End notes for the chapter are under the line.

What's going to happen to you indeed. Will the heroes help him or throw him to the wind? We'll find out next time! ^_____^ Oh and if anyone was expecting a reunion with Hitoshi this chapter, sorry to disappoint but we had to get the tough stuff over with before the fluff. And Izuku was still being processed and needed the talk with the authorities first. So yeah, Hitoshi was at the hospital but won't meet up again with Izuku until later.

Condolences to Izuku's hand. It'll be a tough journey but he's still going to try his best going forward. Also me being me, I have plans. ;) And the physical therapy should help judging from my own experience of pt since I messed up my knee. I saw some people in for their hands after surgery and I don’t know much what would be recommended but I’ll do some research and see what I find. But pt does help! I learned some good exercises and tricks to help with my own recovery. So if you ever get injured like me or get surgery def do the pt after.

All the comforting physical support! :D Aizawa figured that out ages ago and Nezu has too. I have read some fics where Nezu was against physical touch due to his years of experimentation. Which valid if it was forced upon him but I'm more going with the animal instincts to comfort those in their pack of sorts. Honestly all of Izuku's mentors have already mentally adopted Izuku anyway so to me they are all a big unofficial family.

So what will happen to Izuku? You'll find out next chapter! Again thank you for the patience. I'm now moved into the new house and officially transferred to the new store. And I am typing this while on my brand new fancy mattress. Now all I gotta do is unpack the gazillion boxes in my room. Yay moving. :P Alrighty. I shall leave y'all with this until next time. Byeee!

[ohsilverplease]

I could, no smarm intended, use your thoughts and prayers and good vibes and whatever other positive things you can beam into the universe and point my way.

My mom is in the hospital, at the care level below ICU, with fluid around her heart and lungs. She was diagnosed with COPD and asthma this summer and I guess she never fully recovered from the pneumonia she also had at that point. She's awake (well I haven't talked to her today but we texted some last night) but we don't know next steps yet.

Older Bro has been visiting my parents for a week but had to fly back this morning (out of DC, a 4-hour drive from their house). Dad was driving him to the airport and stopped at my house at 2 am to drop off the dog (who belongs to my cousin, who just had back surgery so we are fostering one of his pups). Dog escaped before they even made it through the gate, while I was still sleeping. I woke up at 3 to pee, thought "hmm I thought they'd have been here an hour ago" and they drove up a minute later to say they'd been chasing her for 45 minutes and had to leave soon or Bro would miss his flight. They were going to take one more lap around the neighborhood but every time they'd gotten close to her, she'd run off because she thought it was a game. She's a black husky so being out at night was especially hard to see.

So I put my shoes and jacket on over my sheep pajamas, grabbed a flashlight and some treats, and headed out on foot just to see if she'd come for me. Luckily she'd been at my house a few times so at least maybe there would be familiar smells or whatever. I was going to put out food and water but I'd just seen a possum next door so I just put out water. (I am such a bad storyteller, these details are irrelevant, but it's really just for me.) So I walk to the end of my street, towards the busy road (which wasn't bad at 3 am obviously but there were a few cars). I saw a car pulled on the wrong side of the road and headed towards it, and then thought "what if this ISN'T my dad and brother and I'm heading to my doom" but then I heard them whistle and saw the pup run in front of the headlights. So we spent another 5 minutes trying to get her to stop for a treat, which she did, but darted away when I tried to grab her and ran up across the road to the woods.

So Dad and Bro left, frustrated and scared and also trying to get to the airport on time. I said I'd walk the block back home because it's safe enough, and as I'm walking back a car honks and some guy yells "your dog is in the middle of the road" and then she ran off ahead of me and turned onto my street and stopped to sniff and took a treat from me and let me put the leash on her. I kept giving her treats till we got inside, and then elatedly texted Dad and Bro so they could stop worrying. She drank a bunch of water and we went to bed at like 4.

Anyway, burying the lede here, but I have covid -- symptoms started 8 days ago, I tested negative the first 2 days, went about my business thinking I had a cold, and then tested positive on Monday. So I'm working from home, still congested, more fatigued than usual, and extra worried from lack of sleep and the fact that my dad didn't come back by here yet. He may have gone straight home but that would add an extra hour maybe for him to get to the hospital to see mom, but I'm not sure what time she can have visitors or anything. And I guess he doesn't want to spend time here that might cause him to transmit covid (even though he had it in August) considering he might be spending a lot of time at the hospital soon.

Anyway again. I have to take cupcakes to the office for a baby shower because I'm dumb and can't ask for help. Someone will meet me at the car so I don't infect anyone but I should have just done this differently. I'm so tired. I think C is coming over this afternoon; he also probably has covid now. Everything is just a lot.

[ryanthedemiboy]

T-0

Rest in piece little guy. 16½ and about a foot tall, loved his little couch next to my dad's. He loved cookies and candy corn and cat food, he had a sensitive stomach and hated nighttime without the tv on and playing something.

He loved walks and cuddling with my parents, licking inner elbows and faces (when he was near them).

He loved getting into everything, even when he was old, and he was terrified of my cats.

He loved squeaky toys before he lost his hearing, and loved getting them out of the little interactive storage thing.

Until he was 15, he could still jump up onto couches 3-4 times his height, as well as getting down.

He loved to roll in dead stuff and always stank because of it.

We're not even sure how he found dead stuff because we rarely had anything where he could access.

He loved food and his sweaters and harassing my mom for cookies.

Even in the end, he could hear the garage door opening and closing and would get his ass to the gate asap to greet my parents.

At dinner time, for a few years, he'd jump all around excitedly like a puppy, even though he was a teen.

He only stopped doing that in the last few months of his life.

We couldn't let him anywhere near carpet because he could and would pee on it.

He fucking loved pizza crust.

Here's the boy from night before last.

I've spent 15-19 hours a day with him for the last three weeks. I'll get so much sleep tonight.

On top of all that, now we can close the doggy door, so I don't need to worry about the cats sneaking out. I can sleep soundly for the whole night for the first time in years.

We found out three weeks ago he had spleen cancer the size of a tennis ball, and an otherwise healthy young dog with it, getting surgery and chemo, would have six months.

We got pain meds for him and gave him anything and everything he wanted.

We stopped being able to manage his pain yesterday, and his abdomen had been steadily growing — his tumour burst and was leaking blood into his abdomen, and it'd only get worse.

It was too expensive to euthanize him yesterday, so it had to wait til this afternoon.

My parents just got home from it as I typed this.

But he was out of time. We got 19 months longer than the upper range of his breed. And three weeks knowing it was the end.

We were so lucky. This had to be done.

We got him when I was eleven.

We had him for 60% of my life.

He was well-loved by every damn person who even saw him (shoutout to the person at a local chain who shouted from the drive-thru that they loved him a couple years ago), and the heartbreak is worth having him in my life.

Goodnight, Sammy <3

[gjjokok]

20 - August 27, 2023 (sunday)

Wow it has been a really long time since I came to this Tumblr blog! I guess that's a good thing because it means I've been mentally stable for a while lol. Some things that happened since I last journalled:

Got completely over Syl

Had a situationship with some other people, most namely Royo (i guess)

Had a very serious situationship with Will who I was pretty much dating and really really liked

Moved to new york with EY, made many friends here

Living with Daniel in new york which is crazy since we both thought we hated each other when we first met

In new york, fell in deep LIKE with Kevin Wu who I met when I visited New York last summer with Royo but barely remember meeting. Also have met many other notable boys in new york (ricky, JC) but Kevin is by far the most notable

Anyways, life has actually been going really well and up until about 2 hours ago before I had a nap I have been doing great. But then I woke up from a nap alone in our apartment and feel like crying for unknown reasons so lets see why I feel so bad!

The thing most pressing on my mind is my health anxiety. I feel like this is something a lot of people have, but it is truly so frustrating how I will have (or at least think that I have) 1 major health concern after another. Most recently I was really sick, like insanely sore throat, for about a week where I thought I had strep throat and was stressed because I dont understand the american health care system and didn't know how to get treated or how expensive it would be. It got better last week and I was fine for about 3 days...until now...I just have random double vision. Not all the time, but when I look at something too close to me or if it's really bright in my eyes then I see double. When I close one eye it's totally fine, and a lot of the time I can walk around fine but then I'll rub my eyes and feel like I'm going to fall over because everything is double and I feel a bit dizzy. It's like I've been drunk constantly for the past few days. When I look it up it's either like "GO TO THE ER NOW YOU HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR OR ANEURISM" or "yeah there's not much that can be done other than monitor it and if it persists for 12+ months without improvement then there is a surgery." This is stressing me out so much because it just makes me feel out of it when I'm hanging out with people and walking around doing basic stuff because it takes extra effort just for me to not see everything in double. I would just go to urgent care, but based on what I saw online i dont think they could do much, and I dont know how expensive it would be....anyways if it continues for another few days I will definitely get it checked out, but it's been better today so I'm hoping it's correcting itself..

I think this is more just a result of the fact I feel alone in this exact moment, but I feel so depressy about Kevin not wanting to be with me. In short, Kevin and i met and get along SO WELL and his personality is perfect and I cant keep my hands (and mouth) off of him when he's around me. I never would have came onto him if he didn't flirt with me first, but I'm just so into him and everything about him. However, we have both always said we aren't looking to date - that changed for me about a month in and I realized I really like him and want him to be mine. I spoke about this with him about 5 days ago, and this hasn't changed for him so he still isn't looking to date. To protect my feelings I decided that I need to talk with him less then, but I'm just so sad because I really saw a future for us or I thought we could at least try dating. Since we spoke. I've been generally good and am starting to accept we are just friends and I've been speaking very casually to some other guys. I really thought we were in a good place because we were hanging out at a club on Friday night and we kissed a lot with no strings attached and it felt great. And then him and Tommy, Ricky, Merlin, Chris came over to have dinner with Daniel and i at our place and to play games and stuff. It was so fun and I had no sad thoughts about wanting to be with him. But now I wake up from this nap alone in our apartment, and god I wish I could just hangout with him and cuddle with him and maybe I still have more work I need to do with myself to accept that him and I will never be together. Similar with Syl, I think this is so hard with him because I would have never come on to him first but he started things with me and then decided he doesn't want to be with me after I got so emotionally invested. But, I got over Syl eventually and now we're good friends, and Kevin is kind of more mature and a better person than Syl in general so I know I'll be able to get over Kevin and be friends with him hopefully for a long time.

I was more anxious about this last weekend and earlier this week, but I really feel like I never belong in any group I'm in. After never fitting in with friend groups that are all straight or all girls, I found gay people I love to hangout with in Toronto and New York, but they're nearly all asian so I still feel like I dont belong. This gives me huge imposter syndrome when I'm out with my friends and I kind of hate taking pictures because it is so obvious that I don't belong. It also doesn't help when I feel like I'm always the one reaching out to make plans with people instead of people reaching out to me. For example when I ask people what they're doing for EZoo next weekend, people are very inviting and ask me to join them, but only after I reach out first to ask them their plans. It would be really nice to get an invite to something without being an after thought for one (however as I type that out I remember so many times people have invited me to parties or to cottages or to movies without me asking so many I'm only remembering the times that I don't get invited).

So that's everything I can think of that might be making me feel anxious right now! I just want this double vision to go away...I can deal with heartbreak from Kevin and I can try to strengthen my relationships with friends, but this constant anxiety from feeling like I might die at any time is kind of ruining my life right now. I guess this is in my control though because I can just go to urgent care and at least know that I did everything I can instead of just waiting and hoping it'll go away..

[tendouluvr]

not telling them you’re pregnant - f!reader

- fluff, sliiiight angst maybe

- characters: suna, sakusa, semi

- warnings: pregnancy (i don’t go into detail of giving birth or anything), cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, two mention of the act of sex in semi’s, some cursing

- wc: 1.4k, 888, 946

a/n: it’s f!reader cuz pregnancy but there’s no specific pronouns/gendered terms used

also idk how suna got so long, he was the last one i wrote for bc i couldnt think of anything lmao

[2. iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama]

SUNA

#! suna has been practicing late into the night the past few weeks

#! there’s a big game coming up and the entire team is feeling the pressure and adrenaline from the crunch time

#! you haven’t been feeling too good lately, a lot heavier and more tired than usual

#! thinking it was just stress from work and the missing presence of your boyfriend, you pushed through it and thought it would go away in the next few days

#! unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and you started to get sudden needs to throw up

#! it didn’t take you long to realize why your physical and mental drive have been down lately

#! you’re pregnant

#! or you believe you are

#! you bought a few tests, some of different brands so you can have a variety, and headed home to confirm your suspicion

#! a few minutes later, staring back at you was multiple positive symbols and the bolded ‘PREGNANT’s

#! taking a few deep breaths, you decided to tell suna tonight once he comes home

#! you thought it was better to let him know as soon as possible

#! it wouldn’t hurt anyone plus the faster you rip the bandaid off, the easier it’ll be to deal with it

#! so you waited

#! and waited

#! until 11pm that night, when suna finally came through the front door

#! “tarō! how was practice? can we talk?” you hurriedly greeted him

#! he was taken aback, not expecting you to be right beside him and in his ear as soon as he came in

#! of course you weren’t, you made sure to put some space in between you and him

#! but suna was stressed and tired, so everything is intensified to him at the moment

#! “can you back up?” he mumbled, pushing his way from in front of you to walk to the kitchen

#! “oh, sorry. can we talk?” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he would say yes

#! you’re not blind, you can tell that suna was tired but you really didn’t wanna put this off

#! you were just gonna tell him, he gets surprised, you both talk it out, and then go to bed and continue figuring things out tomorrow morning

#! but before any of that can happen, suna bluntly told you, “no. i’m tired. i’m sure whatever it is isn’t a big deal. can it be tomorrow? i wanna sleep.”

#! you didn’t get to answer before he was already walking away to the bedroom

#! understanding where he was coming from, you mentally agreed to talk to him tomorrow. one day wouldn’t change anything and you’ve seen plenty of people not tell their partners until a few weeks in

#! he was right, it wasn’t a big deal (yet)

#! so you waited until tomorrow

#! and waited

#! and once again, he came home late

#! “hey! can we quickly talk, babe?”

#! “i’m tired. tomorrow, okay?”

#! “oh, okay. night, rin!”

#! “g’night.”

#! night came and there was still no talk

#! this continued on for about 2 weeks, you finally choosing to not care anymore and just let him find out whenever he finds out

#! technically, you could’ve just blurted out a simple, “i’m pregnant.” any point during your nightly five seconds conversations

#! but seeing that he really was tired, springing it onto him would either put him in a full body shock for three days or he just doesn’t fully process your words until three days after

#! a month has passed, your stomach was still barely showing like most women at their one month mark

#! you decided to book an appointment for a checkup, it’ll be while suna’s at practice

#! and that doctor appointment was the exact reason suna found out

#! he was at practice when komori entered the gym

#! he had a doctor’s appointment for his annual checkup, and that’s where he saw you

#! you didn’t see komori, busy reading the directory to find your way to the right office

#! but he saw you on the way out. seeing that you looked a bit busy, he chose not to greet you and just quickly walk to his car lmao why is this funny to me

#! entering the gym, he greeted everyone and apologized for his tardiness even though it was excused

#! walking up to suna, he tapped him on the shoulder and quietly told him, “i saw yn at the hospital earlier. it’s been awhile since we all got together huh, they looked a bit different.”

#! ok so komori, being the smart person he is, deducted that you were pregnant when he saw your finger pointing at the ob/gyn office

#! and he genuinely thought suna knew so his comment was suppose to be a small joke that was meant to tease suna and his sex life

#! suna, however, was confused

#! look different? did you get surgery?

#! “what do you mean?”

#! komori rolled his eyes and gave a sweet smile at suna, “congrats you two! when were you gonna tell the rest of us?”

#! suna: 👨‍🦲 huh

#! “are you guys not pregnant?” he blinked at suna’s frozen reaction

#! suna became unresponsive so komori just walked away mumbling to himself about being sure he read the sign right

#! a loud whistle blew and it shook suna out of his daze, everyone got ready to play a practice game of 3 vs 3 while suna ran over to the coach

#! “hey coach, um i think there’s an emergency at home. can i go? ok thanks.”

#! his coach just stares after him as he sprints off, you think? is there an emergency or not?

#! suna quickly drove home, he may or may not have speed a little, and entered the apartment

#! “yn? baby?” he called out only to be greeted back with silence

#! probably still at the hospital....what were you doing there? he thought to himself while rummaging around the house to find anything that could give him somewhat of an idea

#! he was digging around in the bedroom when you came home, his head so frenzied he didn’t hear the front door open

#! but you heard the ruckus from the bedroom and immediately went into fight or flight

#! panicking, you took out your phone to call suna while quietly opening the front door to make your way back out before the intruder catches you

#! the phone rang and rang until it was picked up. “suna?” you whisper-yelled into the speaker. you had a habit of calling him by his last name when you were freaking out. he noticed and was equally alarmed

#! “what’s wrong?” he whispered back just as panicked

#! “there’s someone in our apartment. can you come home?”

#! “huh? oh, are you home?” he cackles into the phone speaker making you move the phone away from your ear, “it’s me, sweets, c’mere.”

#! you warily walked on your tiptoes over to your bedroom, peeking your head in and what a surprise, it is suna

#! “jackass! why are you home?!”

#! “why didn’t you tell me?” he cut straight to the point

#! “huh?”

#! “you’re pregnant. when were you gonna tell me?” his voice sounding stern, but the quiet smile dancing on his face tells a different story

#! “i tried.”

#! “huh? what do you mean?”

#! “all those times i asked if we could talk. i was trying to tell you.”

#! his heart dropped, eyebrows furrowing, while he stared you down

#! suna became unresponsive once again, standing there trying to think back to the first time you asked him

#! two weeks ago

#! “i’m sorry,” he quietly whispers

#! “hm? i..it’s fine....i was a bit sad, but i’m over it. at least you know now,” you casually shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal

#! “no. i shouldn’t have pushed you aside like that. even if you weren’t pregnant, even if you had just wanted to tell me about some stupid video you saw that day, i shouldn’t have told you off. i’m sorry, i love you a lot and you deserve so much better.”

#! “tarō, shut up. i accept your apology and i forgive you, now make it up to me by giving me a back massage while i show you the ultrasound pictures!”

#! he kisses you before lifting you up bridal style making his way to the bed

SAKUSA

#! contrary to popular beliefs, sakusa is not an obsessive germaphobe who finds everything disgusting but you

#! he wouldn’t be playing volleyball if he was that afraid of germs,,,,,

#! yes, he cringes if random little kids grab onto him after games because 1) he’s drenched in sweat and that feeling is not fun

#! 2) he doesn’t even know themmm

#! and 3) he wanna go home

#! but sakusa loves you and if you happened to get pregnant, he would love your kid(s) just the same

#! however, he never told you this. he never really had a reason to voice this out loud

#! so when you actually did get pregnant, you were confused

#! the only interactions between sakusa and kids you’ve seen multiple times were the moments between him and his fans

#! you guys have been to family parties and his nieces, nephews, and cousins looooves him

#! maybe it’s the fact that he’s a tall looming giant and they just want to climb

#! but besides those moments, you don’t recall him ever telling you upfront that he wants children of his own

#! and the constant stress and pressure he always seem to be working around also doesn’t help reassure you in any way

#! being an athlete for a living means always watching your body, health, and looks for the cameras (but omi could care less about the last thing)

#! he also has to make sure whether or not he’s working well with his teammates, practice and improve on anything he’s having problems with, and deal with atsumu’s dramatic ass

#! you’re an overthinker and because of that, all of these reasons were just reasons for you to postpone the pregnancy news to your long term boyfriend

#! it wasn’t too hard anyway, considering practice runs late sometimes and he’s busy majority of the time doing other stuff

#! when you guys do have alone time together, you both are so focused on one another that you actually forget that you’re pregnant and you never told him

#! you’re about to hit the three months mark now — time goes by fast — and sakusa has noticed you and your body changing

#! at first he just thought you were going through a phase of cravings and a bit of bloating, so he didn’t mention it and just let you be

#! he never got to witness you getting morning sickness because he goes on early runs or he was just out doing morning errands so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later that day

#! so when he caught you in the kitchen cutting up a lemon, the last thing he was expecting you to do was bring the lemon directly up to your mouth

#! “uh, what are you doing?” his deep voice caught you off guard, effectively stopping the hand that was holding the lemon

#! you just stare at him, not wide-eyed, not surprised, just stare

#! “eating a lemon.”

#! “i can see that.... why exactly?”

#! “dunno, the baby i guess.” you casually shrugged it off before popping the lemon slice into your mouth

#! “ah-,” he opened his mouth to stop you from eating the lemon, your words not fully processing in his mind, but cut off midway and froze when he finally realized

#! hearing him pause like that made you suddenly remembered that you never told him you were pregnant

#! you slowly turned back to look at him, mouth still slowly chewing the lemon slices

#! a moment of silence later, he unfreezes and just starts stiffly walking towards you

#! he grabbed you by the shoulders, made you look him in the eyes, before whispering, “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “y-yes..”

#! his eyes were wide, black pupils expanding as he stared you down, his lips slowly curving into a small smile

#! “you’re pregnant....,” he whispers, mainly to himself, hugging your head into his chest

#! “mhm, get off me i’m trying to eat,” you gently pushed him off but he wouldn’t budge

#! “omiiii please, if you get off i’ll give you a slice,” you tried bribing him. he couldn’t tell if you were being serious or just teasing

#! “no.”

#! “um ok, two slices?”

#! “no.”

#! “omi!”

#! he giggles before opening his arms to let you go

#! “why didn’t you tell me?”

#! you didn’t reply right away, making him start to overthink

#! did you not want the baby? or did you not want a kid with him? did you not want to be with him anymore? or was it not his?!

#! he childishly shakes his head side to side at the last question. he knew you wouldn’t do that

#! but you were still silent, making him nervously glance at you from the side

#! “sorry, piece of lemon stuck in my teeth. i just forgot to tell you,” the words easily flowing out of your mouth nonchalantly

#! sakusa’s fingers were literally about to start twitching from anxiousness beside you

#! a sigh of relief was heard from him and you turned to look at him

#! “you okay?”

#! he doesn’t answer, just gives you a smile and goes back to hugging you from behind

SEMI

#! you were currently sitting on the couch in your shared apartment waiting for semi to come home

#! he’s been on tour for a few months now, you both kept in touch by facetiming, texting, calling, and any other methods of virtual communication

#! you would tune into the live recording of all of his performances when you had time so you could watch him

#! a few weeks into tour, you suddenly felt different than usual but shook it off as nothing and probably just you missing your boyfriend

#! you believed that until one morning you were woken up by the sudden urge to throw up, dashing to the restroom as fast as your drowsy body can go

#! it was then that you realized you might be pregnant

#! the night before semi left, you both had sex to enjoy your last few hours together before he had to leave for a few months

#! with the new realization, you quickly dressed yourself to make a short trip to the store to pick up some tests

#! after half an hour of looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to wrap your head around this, you finally opened the first box

#! a few minutes later, all 5 tests were lined up on the bathroom counter showing positive

#! you stared at the tests, trying to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong

#! once you began to understand the responsibility of being pregnant a few hours later, you made a mental note to go out and buy some food for yourself the next day

#! you decided to sleep off the rest of that day

#! through all of the facetime calls with semi, you never once told him you were pregnant

#! you knew that if you told him he would freak out and either demand to go back home, or stay but all of his attention would be on you being pregnant alone at home for the rest of the tour

#! so here you are now, sitting with a 4 1/2 months baby bump waiting for your beloved to come home

#! it was around 6pm when the front door opened, sounds of shuffling bags and heavy steps could be heard from the musician

#! he cursed under his breath when he almost tripped over a duffle bag with some of his loungewear, calling out for you as he walks further into the apartment, “baby? i’m home!”

#! he was about to speak up again when he saw you asleep on the couch

#! bouncing his way over, he got onto his knees at the edge of the couch to observe your face. god i miss you, he thought to himself

#! he gently shakes you awake, you jolted in surprise not knowing you fell asleep in the first place

#! “hmm- what?,” soft murmurs falling from your lips as you adjusted your eyes at your surrounding

#! “eita!” he grinned at you, both of you pulling each other into a hug

#! “fuck, i miss you so much.” he whispered into your ears before placing his face into your neck

#! “i miss you more.” you tightened your grip around him making him move up on the couch to get more comfortable

#! you both moved around until he had you cradled in between him, your back against his chest

#! his hands going under your his shirt to caress you there when his movements stopped right on top of your stomach

#! it was silent as his warm hands rubbed your stomach in circles, the gears turning in his head

#! “are you- you feel- why’s your tum so round and hard?” he quizzically asked, still rubbing your stomach

#! “pregnant.” your voice a low whisper, he almost didn’t catch it

#! “what?”

#! “pregnant.” you repeated, a bit louder this time

#! “huh?”

#! “pregnant!” you sighed, moving his hand so you can get off of him

#! he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away and turns you to look at him

#! “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “i just said that. yes.”

#! you knew you sounded blunt and a bit mean, it wasn’t his fault he doesn’t know at all, but your hormones have been making you crankier and it’s out of your control

#! “sorry. yes, i’m pregnant.”

#! his eyes continuously darts up and down from your eyes to your bump

#! “how long?”

#! “since you left.”

#! “was it the night before?” he was referring to your act of intimacy the night before he left

#! “yea.”

#! “wow. why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “because.”

#! “‘cuz what?”

#! “because i know you. you would either stop touring and come home, or stay but lose focus. i was just trying to not distract you because i know how important your career is to you. and because i thought that you’ll be having a six months break after this tour before your next comeback, i would tell you when you came home. i’m sorry if you’re ma-,”

#! “i’m not mad. oh don’t cry, babe, look at me.”he carefully cups your face, “it’s okay, it’s okay. i get why you kept it from me. and now that i have no schedule for the next six months, i can be there for you until the end of your pregnancy and the beginning of our baby’s life alright?”

#! you weakly nodded against his palms, and he brings you back down to lay your head on his chest as you both softly talk about the past months without each other

[dam-peace]

Out of curiosity

How WOULD the RO’s(VV & ABO)be like if they’re jealous and/or possessive(assuming they are)

I’m just curious, totally not thinking of certain scenarios….totally not.

I can't give too much away because you know, story line and all that. Though what I can do for you is....share some little story nuggets.

P.s. Possessive Scale/Jealousy Scale: 1 being the lowest and 10 the highest.

Alpha, Beta, Omega

One

Jealousy: 9

Possessiveness: 8

Will burn a hole in the head of whoever you're talking to. And the second he sees someone make physical contact with you. He's up, stepping between you and the other person with a disapproving, murderous glare. One's hand gripping the flirter's hand in an almost bone crushing grasp.

Zero

Jealousy: 1

Possessiveness: 10

Finds subtle ways to touch you in front of company, causing you to squirm in a way he finds endearing. Zero's eyes smoothly pass over your frame as his hands move to...other places. Though, his hands stop just short of your sweet spots. As he slowly looks up at the other person who was flirting with you just moments ago, with an amused smirk of superiority.

Viper

Jealousy: 3

Possessiveness: 8

Always by your side as if she were paid to be there, watching everyone around you like a hawk. Literally snarling at anyone who gets too close to you, as well as grabbing the throats of whoever makes the sorry mistake of touching you. Though, hardly anyone would be given the chance, as she's now permanently glued to your side.

Wolfe

Jealousy: 6

Possessiveness: 6

When he heard this creep badgering you for your number, he knew you could handle it....he knew. But that didn't stop him from breaking the creep's hand, when they had called you '[insert inappropriate sexual comment]'. After you had turned away, politely rejecting them. Neither did it stop Wolfe from breaking their nose, then shoving the creep's phone down their throat.

Vice Virtue

Elias

Jealousy: 3

Possessiveness: 10

Smoothly appears by your side, he slings an arm around your shoulders, sending you a smouldering gaze. Heated, and charged with sexual tension. Which quickly dissipates as he stares down the person who was trying to flirt with you. Watching them with eyes as cold as the harshest of winters.

Nicholas

Jealousy: 5

Possessiveness: 6

Introduces himself to the person who had flirted with you, finding out if you two are compatible, based on what he already knows about you. Though, constantly uses work as a means to keep you two apart, under the guise that he's simply trying to help you stay on top of things.

Tobias

Jealousy: 10

Possessiveness: 7

Flat out tells the person flirting with you to f*ck off, though not before belittling them to all hell. Tobias is coming for their clothing choices, teeth, personal hygiene. Their whole gene pool, the boy is a savage and he'll make a public display of it if necessary.

Kacey

Jealousy: 9

Possessiveness: 7

Compares herself to the other person, feeling that she may not be good enough for you. Though if the flirter tries to make contact with you, Kacey's up outta her seat. Grabbing your arm, dragging you away from the other person. Whilst glaring at them, screaming "MINE!"

Shuri/Shyam

Jealousy: 8

Possessiveness: 7

Busy gathering intel on the person who they saw flirting with you, and trust and believe they'll find out everything there is to know about the flirter. From their date of birth, to what they ate last week, even what they looked like before the cosmetic surgery. Then talking to you about what they've found, to see your reaction. Though Shuri/Shyam is sure to spend more time discussing the flirter's faults, as opposed to their attractive qualities.

Leena/Luther

Jealousy: 7

Possessiveness: 7

Uses work as a means to stop others from flirting with you, and vice versa. If Leena/Luther notices someone taking an interest in you, the flirter's workload suddenly increases expeditiously soon after. Also, they better not see you entertaining these fools, because they'll drag you away from any conversation. Stating that if you have enough time to talk, then you have time to work.

Mason/Marley

Jealousy: 8

Possessiveness: 7

Tries to impress you, with what they know of you so far. Finding any and all means of making contact with you, from walking up to your office to tell you the most mundane things. To grabbing you breakfast every morning, they'll even try to keep the flirter away from you, in any way they can. No matter how stupid the excuse may be...