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badnoahmens · 1 year ago

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You’re Mine

Noah Sebastian x Reader

3.6k words.

A/N: jealous Noah has me feeling strong feelings. Smutty shit so 18+ only. Wrote this instead of working on higher priority WIPs.

You twist the handle for the hot water off, steam being the only thing that filled the small shower around you now. After the long day you had, a nice, hot shower was the only thing that seemed to help take the edge off. With a sigh, you step from the warmth surrounding you, reaching for the towel and swiftly tucking in the side to preserve your modesty.

As you exit from the bathroom, you swipe meaninglessly through your phone, scrolling through photos posted from friends and the odd targeted advertisement. With a small ding a new notification graces the top of your screen. An old friend of yours, Patrick, that you had kept in touch with throughout the years, had recently reached out and was sending memes he thought you would like. Seeing as the two of you had similar jobs, they were mostly focused on that. Innocent enough, but it wasn’t worth looking at now.

Without taking much notice of your surroundings, you walk between the bathroom and into the kitchen in search of a snack to quell your cravings. Noah was leaning on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, elbows propping up with one hand curled into a fist under his chin, the other scrolling through something on his phone. His eyes were slightly glazed over, a side effect of the doom scrolling that he often fell into. You side-eye him as you walk past, pulling an unimpressed face as you responsibly reach for an apple.

The bite you take makes a loud crunch that is the only sound that breaks the silence in the room. The chewing that follows is equally as loud and disturbing, echoing as an irritating wet, mushy slurp. You kept your eyes on Noah as you took a second loud bite from the apple, knowing full well he loathes the sound.

Another scroll with his thumb flashes bright colours and fast-moving videos on his phone, still unaware of your presence.

A third bite of the apple, this one finally earning a reaction. His head slowly turns, pivoting on the hand that he still has balancing under his chin, his eyes landing on you as you take a fourth, menacingly slow and obnoxiously loud bite.

And then it is a stare-down. You refuse to let up, keeping a blank expression on your face as you grind down, meticulously masticating the organic surgery fruit. Noah squinted his eyes, knowing full well that it was your intention to bother him. He clicks his phone so the screen locks, and places it gently on the counter.

“Alright! That’s it!” he finally calls as you lift the apple, almost gone now, to your mouth dramatically slowly for another bite, although you never get to take it. Noah stands and strides over to you, snatching the apple from your hands, tossing it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room. It was immediately after that you were tossed over his shoulder, flailing in a panic. He turned on his heels and speed-walks to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as the pace he held wasn’t one that was all that graceful. He was laughing maniacally at your feeble attempts to squirm from his grasp. You would never tell him that you weren’t actually trying.

With a jostle and a thud, he dumps you on your back, the soft mattress bouncing below you. You fight playfully, trying your best to catch Noah’s fast and nimble hands as they darted in and out, tickling your sides. His smile is palpable, his hair wavering from side to side as he adjusts his plan of attack every time you twist and turn under him. He has his knees pinned by your sides, grey sweats and a black t-shirt lingering over you as his colourful, decorated arms and neck looked ever so enticing. You couldn't help but notice the way that his pants twitched as he continued to hold you pinned down on the bed.

In a sudden change of heart, his hands stop, grasping your wrists and holding them above your head in one of his hands. He drops his face so that it is an inch from yours. His breath wafted over your face and you smiled, glancing between his intense gaze and watching the way he licked his lips.

“How was your shower? Did it fix your bad day?” He asked. His head tilted to the side slightly. The question sounded innocent enough, right?

“I’m still a little tense,” you reply. And you were honest with your response. It was a long day. When you arrived home, your bags were quickly dumped on the floor by the door haphazardly, a huff leaving you in an attempt to exult some of the emotion that had pent up all day. Working with kids was difficult on a normal day, but there must have been something in the air today for them to be as wild as they were. Noah knew you were in a less-than-ideal mood. Bless his soul, he did try and help, but the best thing you could do was to wash the day away. Now, even after a shower, the aftereffects of a bad day were still lingering despite being only towel-clad underneath your boyfriend.

“Turn over” he motions with his head, releasing your hands from his vice grip allowing you to lay on your stomach instead. In the midst of this motion, he tweaks his fingers under the top of where your towel sat, tugging at the tuck that held it secure. You had a sharp inhale as the cold air hit your bare skin, still warm and slightly damp from your shower.

You heard Noah hum behind you and you glance over your shoulder back at him, but he doesn't see your face. Instead, his eyes are trailing down your body, pupils dilating when he sets his sight on your ass.

Noah was an ass man for sure. And he was obsessed with yours. He would always be so handsy with you, the odd playful slap here and there, tucking his hand into your back pocket to cop a feel when he probably shouldn't be, even his favourite sex positions were the ones where it was front and centre in his view.

You tucked your hands under your chin, still twisting so that you could see Noah in your peripherals. His hands started to glide over your back, down your sides, following the sweet contours of your body. Noah let out a low growl from deep within, but you’re certain he wasn’t aware of half the noises he was making; the deep breaths, slight gasps and quiet moans.

Using all of his restraint, Noah tears his gaze from your ass and lifts his body so that he is kneeling over you, hands now placed on your shoulders. He could still feel the tension in the knots that had built up over time, forming firm ridges across your shoulders and back. Tattooed digits started to knead into the tender muscles twisting under your skin. The pressure mixed with the slow circles made you close your eyes and let out an involuntary moan. Noah hummed and smiled to himself, knowing the power this had over you. You were such a sucker for massages, and could never deny having Noah;s hands all over your body.

He continued to try his best to break down the clusters of tension, twisting and rubbing at the bundles that had gathered over a long time. Your head would roll from one side to the other, allowing Noah to work into different areas and use different pressures to make some kind of difference. Noah would be lying if he said he didn’t love it too. Having his hands all over you? Making you feel good? Knowing full well that this often led to something far more exciting? Yes please.

It was at this moment, as you were about to be lost to Noah’s touch and oblivious to the world, when your phone dinged again. Lifting it up to your face, another notification from your old friend lit up the phone that was strewn carelessly on the bed next to you.

Noah’s hands stopped.

“Who’s Patrick’?” Noah asks, the slighted hint annoyance in this voice. You readjusted your position so you could see Noah’s face, his expression blank. You tried to wriggle so you could twist from under him, but his legs tensed and squeezed you so you were stuck, completely at his mercy.

“He’s an old friend. Has a similar job. Been sending me some memes about work. He sent me one earlier but I didn’t respond so he’s probably sending another” you answer.

“Sending you memes, huh? He does this often?” Noah’s leg muscles were still tense beside you as he sat back on his haunches, warm calloused hands now retreating from your body.

“I mean, a little bit. He reached out last week after he started a new job with someone I used to know.” You pause, Noah’s demeanour was changing before your very eyes. Now, he seemed a little standoffish.

Noah makes a “Hmff” noise in response.

“Noah?” He doesn’t respond. “Are you jealous?”

No response again.

“Noah” you call once more.

“You’re seriously moody because I have been talking to an old friend?” You prop your head up on your hands in an effort to get a better view of Noah. Although you could see his face, he had turned to look across the room beyond you, and he seemed perplexed.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. That's totally fine” you say sarcastically, shifting underneath him to slip out from his legs still perched beside you. Before you could free yourself entirely, Noah leaves. He stands and crosses the room, disappearing into your walk-in robe. Sounds of shuffling items then follows.

You twist and sit up, pulling the towel back around you. Your gaze was down at trying to hitch the material back into a safe tuck as you ignored the kerfuffle Noah was making when he walked back into the room.

Just as you are satisfied with the towel adjustments, Noah’s hands are on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. He hovers over you again, but now his eyes were dark and his motions were very intentional.

You go to speak, but Noah shakes his head and stands again, holding a firm grip on your hips so that you swivel to a new angle, diagonal across the bed, and spinning so that you land back onto your stomach, just like before.

Your eyes glance up in front of you and you see what the commotion Noah was making before. A full body-length mirror was now sat up leaning against the wall, allowing for your reflection to stare right back at you. You look up at Noah through your eyelashes in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you, trying to figure out the expression Noah has spread all over his face. That is, until it hits. It’s a look of desire.

He proceeds to crawl over you, leaning forward on closed fists so that they land on either side of your head before rising to be on his knees. Illustrated hands that contrast with the towel hitch around your hips, yanking them up fast and forcefully so that your knees fall under you, perching your ass high.

You couldn’t help but have a smirk plastered on your face; Noah on the other hand, still doing his best to hold a poker face. His gaze wanders down, allowing his hands to rub possessively over your cheeks under the fuzzy material. They dance lightly over your hips, then begin the trace lines on the insides of your thighs. You let out a high-pitched whimper as an automatic response. You had no control over what influence Noah had on your body, let alone when you were like this.

Noah’s eyes didn’t leave your face, so you teasingly leant back, pressing your skin closer to him. Your breath started to quicken, hitching in your throat when his nimble fingers flicked at the towel causing it to slip down, exposing your body once again. Noah struggled to keep his composure as he took the sights, expression faltering slightly and his hands moved to your folds immediately feeling the warm wetness on his fingertips.

Your eyes slipped closed, relishing in the lightest of touches that Noah was gracing you with, that was until one hand came down with a hard slap on your ass, and the fingers teasing you were gone.

Your eyes shoot open and your body jolts in reaction, except Noah clamps his hands on your hips and pulls you back closer to him.

“Keep them open” he growls, and you watch the way his mouth twitches as his fingers return to your folds, one hand grabbing a handful of the tender skin of your ass cheek perched up in his direction. You lock eyes in the mirror. “I want you to see who’s you are,” he continued.

Slowly, one finger glides into your pussy. It might not be enough, but it’s something. You rock back in the slightest way, and Noah’s grip tightens on your ass. He gives you a warning glance, before his eyes move to his digit disappearing into your folds. It curls up inside you, like he was beckoning you to come closer. The caressing on your inside walls slowly pumps out, and then in again. A rhythm started to build and he added a second finger.

Starting to feel more full, your eyes begin to close, but you remember the demands before they fully shut. Instead, you peer through half-closed slits and admire the way Noah’s hips were starting to grind against you. There was a mound growing in his pants, grazing against your inner thigh, telling you that he is loving this.

“Does that feel good?” He murmurs from behind you, and his eyes are back on yours in the mirror. You nod and hum in response, sliding a hand back behind you to reach for Noah. He takes your hand, grasps it firmly, and places it on your back. It’s feels unnatural, but not unformatabme. Your fingers intertwine as acts almost like an anchor. For you? For Noah? You’re not sure, maybe even both of you.

“Say my name” he demands.

“N….” You start, and he flicks his wrist, stopping any ability to control your voice. Instead, a moan escapes.

“What was that?” He whispers, twisting his fingers again in the same motion.

“Nooaaahhhhh…” the end of his name escapes your mouth as a sigh, as though it could have very well been your last breath.

Noah’s fingers disappear from inside you, slipping out and bringing with it some of the wetness that is all but dripping from your pussy.

“What do you want?” He asks. But you can’t speak. The emptiness turns into an ache. All you can do is stare at him in the mirror and watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, letting drips of your own liquids run down his chin. His eyes are blown wide and dark with desire, and he notices the way your legs twitch closer when his tongue graces the space between his two fingers, curling up to clean them of any remnants of you on them.

“I- I want you” you are able to stammer out between the heavy breaths.

He grins a devilish grin and shifts his weight, struggling to jam down his sweats to his thighs with one hand, ignoring his own wet patch of precum that had soaked through the front of them. His hand then lands on the outside of your thigh, in the crease where it meets your hip, as he steadies himself. You can feel the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and then he pauses.

His dark eyes are locked in on yours, looking through his eyelashes, and moving his eyes, slowly rocks his hips forward. The pressure is achingly slow. He is teasing you. Letting you know that he is in control here.

Your free hand grasps at fbe sheets below you, trying in some way to let out the tension that is building. The other hand still intertwined with Noah’s behind you tightens in grip. He gives his own squeeze back, almost as a reassurance. Your mouth falls open and eyebrows twist, anticipation causing you to be entirely out of control if your own body movements. You feel him inside, yet it’s the lack of rhythmic motion that is missing.

Your hips buck forward involuntarily, something deep within you just pleading for more friction between you and Noah, and he picks up on it. He begins to drag his cock out of you, placing his free hand on the inside of your thigh, tapping it with grace as though to say ‘open more’. You do as you’re told, shifting the weight to one leg and the other swings out to make a wide gap between your legs. Noah doesn’t hesitate after that.

His shaft is hammering back into you. In and out like a jackhammer. The fingers of his free hand now sitting dangerously and teasingly close to the tight ring of muscle that sat between your asscheecks. You look at his face in the mirror; a sheen of sweat building over his face after only a minute of fucking, his brows furrowed as he stares intently at the work he is doing on your behind. Nails dig into the tender flesh of your derriere as Noah tilts his head back.

You feel the white hot glow begin to burn inside you. Noah is not taking any chances tonight, his hand leaving yours on your back to tangle with the mess of hair on your head. It was already knotted, but Noah intertwined his fingers with it, tugging with little force to bring your chin up.

Your legs were shaking at this point, and it could have been from the pleasure or the absolute hammering they were receiving. There was a growl from Noah which drowned out the hum of the tv from the other room, but you couldn’t tell what he actually said. The skin on skin slapping sounding even sloppier by the second. He was getting close, he was starting to fumble over his rhythm, but he could see that you just weren’t as close to your release as he was.

His hand leaves the tangle of your messy hair, keeping his eye contact in the mirror, and lands on the underside of your belly. You can feel him pull towards him, another silent instruction. Pushing on your arms, you felt weak. They shivered underneath you and you rose to your elbows, then up on your palms.

“More. Against me” Noah hums through a tight jaw. The pounding from behind you was starting to slow and you knew he couldn’t hold on for much longer.

With the right shift of weight, you right yourself on your knees, feeling the sweaty, warm sensation of Noah’s heaving body on your back. His arm wrapped around your chest, settling with an open palm grasping needily at your breast. He grabbed, twisted and pinched at your nipple, caressing what he could as he tried his best to focus on bringing you closer. And boy, was it working.

The new position gave you a full frontal view of what state you were in. The mirror was a portal to a world of pleasure and sex, and the only ones who lived there were you and Noah. Nothing else around you mattered. Nothing else around you even existed in this moment.

Your eyes clamp shut as the build of your orgasm was teetering at the edge, threatening to unfurl and throw sensations through your body that only Noah could achieve. There was a tightening around your neck, and as your eyes open, he land on Noah’s is tense stare from behind you.

“I said keep them open” he demanded. “I want you to watch you cum. Watch what I can do to you.”

All you can do is nod. He was never this dominant, but he must have been really ticked off. He had a point to prove, and he was delaying his own paradise just to make it know.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours” you whisper.

The hammering of his cock inside you, slamming deep inside of you, paired with the hand that had just dropped to your clit was the magic that brought your orgasm to its peak. There was a flood of heat that washed through you. If it wasn’t for Noah’s arms, you would have collapsed right there in front of him. Your body jerked involuntarily as Noah let you ride out the electricity. His eyes were on your face, watching as you cried out with his name, hands desperately grabbing at his arm twisted around you.

His muscles flexed as he held you up, knowing that you needed him to stay this close, but he couldn’t help but give up the fight of holding back his own orgasm. With a wet jerk of his hips, he slipped from you just in time to let the streams of hot white cum leave him, landing on the lower part of your back. You fall forward, landing with your arms by your face, and let Noah release onto you. You watch as his own eyes close, failing to follow his own rules, and then collapses beside you.

It was minutes before either of you even got your breaths back into a regular pattern. You watch Noah lay on his back, his palm resting on his forehead, and a sex-drunk smile on his face. He turns to look at you, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’d like to see Patrick’s memes beat that.”

1K notes · View notes

megalony · 1 month ago

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I'll Take Care Of Her

This is a new Doctor! Eddie Diaz imagine based on a lovely request, I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you. I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Both Eddie and (Y/n) work in the hospital, but while Eddie is in surgery, a patient down in the ER attacks (Y/n). And the staff have to go and find her husband quick.

Enjoy.

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A rush of adrenaline sparked through (Y/n)'s stomach when a pair of arms deadlocked around her waist. Shivers coursed up and down her spine at the feeling of a chin pressing down on her shoulder and a familiar chest gluing against her back.

Her head twisted to the left and she pressed a quick kiss to her husband's temple, reaching her hands down to squeeze his wrists.

She loved the way he grinned and meshed his lips into the side of her neck, softly kissing her skin even though they were in the middle of the cafe. The feeling of Eddie's fingers squeezing her hips made her want to melt into a puddle. And she loved the body heat radiating off of him making her feel warm and fuzzy.

"Want a coffee?" She nudged her lips against his temple and began walking closer to the till, feeling him murmur 'please' into her neck.

Eddie kept his chest pressed up into her back and unhooked one hand from (Y/n)'s hip to grab one of the sandwiches from the fridge beside them.

He wasn't sure how long this break was going to last before he was summoned back into work, and Eddie didn't want to go back without eating something first. And he had a funny feeling that his wife hadn't eaten anything yet either so he knew sharing some food would be the best idea for them both.

When (Y/n) grabbed the two coffees the cashier held out, Eddie swiped his card from his pocket and paid before he finally unlatched from (Y/n). He wove his right arm around her waist and tugged her into his side with his lips attached to the back of her head and the sandwich in his left hand.

He followed (Y/n) towards a free table near the window and once she sat down, he wedged into the booth alongside her.

Once they were both sat down, (Y/n) leaned her head on Eddie's shoulder and tucked herself under his arm like he was a bird and she was taking shelter beneath his wing. She felt his hand gliding up and down her arm and the touch made her smile and she inched closer until one more inch would mean she was sitting on his lap.

"How's your morning going?" Eddie whispered against her hair and took a look around the practically empty dining area.

He hadn't seen (Y/n) since they both arrived at work this morning and parted ways for their respective positions. Eddie had gone upstairs to do routine appointments in the hospital, whereas (Y/n) had been put on the rota for the emergency room for the day. It was always both rewarding and challenging to work the ER.

Eventually he turned his head and took a bite of the sandwich. Lunch breaks weren't very long when they both worked in a hospital and if he didn't eat now, he dreaded to think when he would eventually get to eat.

"You wouldn't believe the kind of people who turned up so far. Oh, and dad brought a patient in too, the guy had a tape worm almost my height."

"Glad I'm not down there with you then."

Eddie would much rather be up with routine patients than dealing with emergencies. Half the people who walked into the emergency room didn't need urgent help and the other half had such strange issues that it scared Eddie to let them leave and fear what they would get up to when they went back home.

And Eddie knew his father-in-law was always one to deal with 'special cases' as they came to call them.

Bobby worked for the fire department and as such, he was always bringing people down to the emergency room. Which meant that (Y/n) often got to see her dad if she was working down there and she knew he always had fun cases to bring in and dealt with lots of strange things on his shift.

And it was usually (Y/n) who dealt with the cases her dad brought in. His team's motto and rules were that once they brought someone down to the hospital, they left them at the doors. No check-ins, no follow ups to see how they were doing, just leave them to the doctors. They got handed over to (Y/n) and Eddie.

Eddie leaned back in his seat and when he looked down at (Y/n), he nudged the other half of the sandwich over to her.

"Eat something now while you have the chance."

The look in his eyes made (Y/n) relent and take the sandwich, a grateful smile on her lips as she mixed some sugar into her coffee. Their respective jobs at the hospital were far from easy and when they were busy, it was hard to take a lunch break or a ten minute breather to go and get a drink. But while they were here together, Eddie would prefer if (Y/n) ate something, then at least he would know she would be alright if she got busy down in the ER. He didn't want her wearing herself thin.

"Do you think if I hid out here, anyone would notice?" She was only joking and they both knew it, but it was such a tempting thought.

To just sit here in the cafe and hide out for a while, take a proper break that they both deserved rathe than a few minutes to choke down a boiling hot drink and eat half a sandwich.

"Afraid so, baby. Don't worry, if I need a nurse for a consult I'll page you."

"Thank you,"

Eddie had paged for (Y/n) quite a few times when he had to have a nurse present in a consult to check a patient. It stole her away for a little while and got her out of the emergency room and all the hustle and bustle.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned further into Eddie's side and looped her arm around his middle. She would prolongue lunch as much as she could and scrape together as much time with her husband as possible before she had to go back to the team.

But it was comforting to think that if the emergency room got too much, she could head up to Eddie's office for a while.

Sitting down made (Y/n) feel tired enough that if she closed her eyes, she feared she would fall asleep. She was fine until she stopped moving and actually sat down, that was when the lack of energy hit her like a truck and knocked her back. And right now she felt like they were at home, curled up on the sofa together.

It was nice to feel Eddie's hand gliding up and down her arm while they both sipped their coffees.

Eddie closed his eyes for a few moments, but he groaned when he felt his pager vibrating and beeping on his belt. He knew it was too good to be true. Five minutes with his wife was all he was going to get. He was supposed to have a good twenty minutes for his lunch break, but clearly that wasn't going to happen today.

He leaned into (Y/n) and set his cup down so he could grab his pager and see what he was being called for. He was supposed to be on consultations today, but Eddie was always on standby. If there was an emergency, he would hand his cases down to a GP and head off wherever he was needed.

*Emergency appendectomy OR 6.

"Great. I'm gonna be in surgery for the next few hours." He twisted the pager in (Y/n)'s direction before he slotted it back on his belt. "If I don't catch you before we finish, just wait in my office for me."

They usually finished at the same time when their shifts lined up and Eddie would drive them both home. If he didn't see (Y/n) beforehand, he would see her when she came by his office when they both finished.

Their shifts didn't finish late tonight so Buck was getting Chris from school for them and he would drop him off after tea. They knew all of Bobby's team and they were all close, but Buck had become a very close friend to the couple.

"Have fun." (Y/n) sat up straight so she wasn't leaning on Eddie any more and she smiled when his hand cupped her chin and tilted her head back.

She could taste the sugar on his lips from his coffee and his thumb traced her jaw while he leaned into her.

"See you later baby, be careful."

Eddie's words spun round (Y/n)'s head that felt like it was full of air when he finally parted from her lips after stealing all the air from her lungs. His touch lingered on her skin as she watched him down the last of his coffee and weave between the tables.

His white coat flowing in the breeze at his quick descent and (Y/n) knew in half an hour that coat would be traded for a mint green set of scrubs.

With a sigh, (Y/n) downed her own drink, grimacing as it burned the back of her throat and settled heavy in her stomach. She felt a shiver coursing down her spine when she got up and slowly trudged out the cafe. She would head back to the emergency room, but she wasn't in any hurry.

There didn't seem much point in (Y/n) sitting here by herself any longer. She had gotten a small break and she got to spend a tiny portion of her day with her husband. She may as well get back to work now; the quicker she got back, the sooner her shift would finish.

She hoped.

***

(Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair while she finished writing up her notes, leaning against the nurse's station.

She could feel a headache rolling in and she just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. But there was still a few more hours left of her shift until she could go and find Eddie and head home. (Y/n) couldn't wait for next week. She and Eddie had booked the week off and that meant no one could ring either of them and ask for them to cover shifts or be on call.

They would get to be together for the week, the wouldn't have to be up early or home late or knackered from long twelve hour shifts. And they would get to be home with Chris. No swapping shifts and finding people to help watch him until they finished work. They could spend the whole week with him, and they had plans for the seaside and the amusement park.

She could barely contain her relief and excitement at the thought of leaving and heading home with Eddie this afternoon.

With her lower back arched out, (Y/n) leaned her head on her forearm as she finished up writing her notes and slotted the paperwork in the discharge file. It was easier when they got to see and discharge people on the same day rather than send them all over the hospital. Files got easily missed and the computer system didn't always update quick enough.

"(Y/n), did you discharge that last patient?"

Her head snapped to the left and she looked over at the Doctor Ardas. He was in charge of the ER today, and (Y/n) wasn't his biggest fan. He was all for pushing people past their breaking points. He didn't like people taking breaks or taking too long and to say he liked effeciency was an understatement.

"Yeah, she's been sent home."

"Good. Cubicle three needs assessing and bloods, the full works. Go." The way he pointed and wagged his hand in the right direction made (Y/n)'s jaw lock as she scowled.

What did he think she was, a trained puppet?

She didn't have chance to tell him not to be so crude and have some manners before he turned and walked away.

Great.

She thought about turning and skulking off somewhere, Eddie's office was only up on the second floor. She could make a break for it and hide away in there so she didn't have to deal with anymore patients.

(Y/n) had already taken blood samples, sone scratch tests, checked eyesights and set up patients on drips of antibiotics and saline. She had seen three different patients and discharged two of them after her short lunch break and she had barely discharged the last patient. She could use five minutes to just breathe and sit for a moment before she was run ragged again. But this was the job, and she couldn't exactly say no.

Pushing off the desk, (Y/n) clicked her spine into place and walked away from the nurses station to head down the short hall towards the emergency cubicles. Each one was a large room with glass doors and walls, all kept private with blinds and curtains.

When she reached the third cubicle, she grabbed the chart sheet from outside the room before she walked in and shut the door behind her.

Her eyes cast across the chart sheet but she could feel her blood draining down to her toes when she read it over.

(Y/n) wasn't prejudiced or discriminating in any way, she couldn't be in her line of work. But if there was one set of patients she didn't particularly like caring for, it was the ones on drugs. The ones who would become frantic and paranoid and could get vevry crude and snappy.

Sometimes with patients on drugs they were frightened, and (Y/n) could deal with them easier than the ones who got verbally aggressive and lashed out. Especially when they didn't want help, yet came to a hospital.

The chart said this patient had been brought in after a collision on the motorway and they suspected he was on drugs. (Y/n) was going to have to take bloods to confirm as well as check him for injuries and get him onto a ward, if necessary.

"Hi Joe, I'm nurse Diaz." She set the chart down and moved over to stand beside the bed.

The man was sat up on the bed, one hand cradling his temple and the other holding the rail like he feared he might fall off the bed.

"Can I take a look at you?"

When he didn't respond, (Y/n) leaned over and tried to move her hands towards his face so she could get him to look at her. He had a large gash on the side of his temple that needed attending to.

He didn't seem bothered when, after putting on gloves and getting some cotton swabs, (Y/n) started to clean the wound on his temple. His eyes constantly darted from his lap up to look at (Y/n) and then went back down to his hands that were now fiddling on his lap. He was shaking his hands and curling his fingers like he was losing sensation in his hands, but (Y/n) guessed it was because he was high and packed with adrenaline.

It didn't take long to clean his temple and (Y/n) determined he didn't need any stitches or glue, it would heal up just fine on its own.

But the way he looked up at her and suddenly had a smirk playing on his lips made (Y/n) wonder if he hadn't exactly noticed or looked at her earlier. He was staring at her now like he had only just took a proper look at her and seen the kind smile on her features.

"You're pretty." His voice was almost as sleezy as the smile on his face and he reached out to try and either touch her cheek or cup her face, (Y/n) couldn't be sure. But either way, she leaned just out of his reach.

"Thank you. Can I set you up on the monitor?" She pointed to the ECG machine in the corner and grabbed the clips that would need to be attached to his chest, but he didn't reply.

This time, when (Y/n) leaned over him and tried to motion to his chest, he seemed to come to life. His arm flung out and whacked her wrist, sending her arm jolting down to the side and causing a dull sensation to sting towards her elbow.

So he didn't want the monitors on.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and put them down. He wasn't about to go into cardiac arrest and he had refused, she couldn't force him to wear the monitors.

"Head up for me please." She swiped the flashlight from her top pocket and leaned in front of him so she could check his eyes.

He grunted and pulled back when (Y/n) lifted his eyelid and shone the light over his pupils. They were blown wide and not reacting as good to light changes. His nose scrunched and he huffed when (Y/n) grabbed a stethoscope and listened to his breathing and his heart, but he didn't hit her away this time.

"Have you taken anything today? Medication, narcotics, any drinking?" She jotted a few notes down on his chart but she was dismayed to see him snarling at her like she had insulted him.

"Nar-whats?"

"Non-prescription drugs, Joe." Using his name might make him calm down and feel listened to; at least that was the hope. It might also make him feel like (Y/n) was treating him as a person and not just as a patient, another casualty being brought through.

"If I s-say yes, will you arrest me?" He had a teasing manner to his voice and leaned forward towards her.

"I'm a nurse, not a police officer. I just want to help, if you tell me what you took I can make sure you don't have any adverse reactions and that you haven't overdosed."

He muttered "Nothing." beneath his breath, but (Y/n) wasn't sure if he was simply disagreeing with her or telling her he hadn't taken anything like that today. Not that she was inclined to believe him anyway.

(Y/n) may not be a police officer, but her step-mum was. She wouldn't arrest Joe, she would only treat him. Once he was on a ward and sorted out, then (Y/n) would inform her step-mum who would probably be the one to come down here and arrest him. But Joe didn't need to know that yet.

"I need to take a blood sample now, it might be uncomfortable but it won't take long."

(Y/n) moved over to the small unit in the corner of the room and got what she needed to take some bloods. That would tell them what Joe had been taking today to bring him here and if he was on drugs, it would be used against him for driving under the influence.

She pulled the small stool over towards the bed and sat down, laying the items down in a dish on the side table.

His left arm was closest to her and (Y/n) tried to be tender and careful when she pulled the plastic strap around his bicep to cut off his circulation. The action made him grunt again and he looked down at her with a raised brow and confusion plastered on his face.

"What're you doing?"

"I need to take some bloods." She got the needle ready and poised at the crease of Joe's elbow, but the moment she tried to slide it into his vein, he came alive.

His hand slapped into her shoulder and his other hand reached around to try and grab her. His fingers narrowly missed her head, clawing at a few strands of hair as (Y/n) scuffled back on the stool to be out of reach.

"You're not injecting me with anything." The gritty tone to his tempered voice made (Y/n) wince and she tried to hold up the needle with the empty vile attached. There was nothing to inject, she was retrieving a sample not giving one.

"I'm not-"

"Listen, just sign the forms so I can be discharged." He stumbled up onto unsteady feet and advanced over to (Y/n) who hurriedly hopped off the stool.

She had to take his bloods, it was far easier than taking a hair sample to test for drugs in his system and bloods also helped them rule out any infections and check on organ function. He was here to be checked over, he had to let (Y/n) help him.

"Joe, I'm only trying to help. Please sit down and as soon as I'm done, we can get you on an IV. You might have a concussion." He might indeed be concussed, but (Y/n) couldn't discharge him in this state, especially when she didn't know what he had taken and in what quantity.

"I don't wanna be prodded and poked. Sign the damn forms, you can even stay in here with me if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm flattered, but you need your bloods done so we can check you're okay. Let's get them done now, hm?" (Y/n) motioned to the tray and picked up the needle again while she motioned for him to sit down, but he didn't seem to be listening.

Once his eyes locked on the needle in her hand, his lips curled into a snarl and as quick as anything, he grabbed her wrist and bent her hand to the side. The motion was swift and violent enough to make (Y/n)'s hand tremble and she dropped the needle with a cry.

Her free hand grabbed his wrist and she pushed her effort into her arm to try and make him relent. Any second now she was expecting to hear her wrist snap from the brute force he was using.

"Let go." Her hand was trembling when Joe finally relented and released her wrist that was pulsing from lack of blood to her fingers.

She coiled both arms to her chest and looked around the room. If he wasn't going to cooperate then she would have to call for assistance, maybe even security. (Y/n) had had her fair share of tough patients, but the most she dealt with was verbal aggression or the odd shove when she had a panicked patient. This was different; Joe was different.

"You're a tough one." His words made her tremble and she sidestepped towards the end of the bed where the buttons and controls were. She needed to press the call button for help.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and (Y/n) flung her arms out in front of her when Joe suddenly grabbed her hips. His fingers pinched into her skin and he yanked her so forcefully that her feet bent awkwardly beneath her and she stumbled forward into him.

Her whole body went rigid when he tried to kiss her. She agreed with the officer's statement that he was most likely on drugs, but (Y/n) could taste alcohol on his breath too.

As soon as his lips touched hers, her trembling hands shoved at his chest and she writhed from left to right until he let her go and she could stumble back.

It didn't matter if someone was attacking (Y/n), if they hit her, put her in a headlock or tried to kiss her, she couldn't physically attack them back. (Y/n) couldn't kick, punch, hit or grab at a patient. She had been to the training, she vaguely remembered all the techniques to 'calmly and kindly' get out of a bad situation without harming the other person.

It didn't mean that it was easy when she just wanted to slap him and use force to get him away from her. But not at the risk of her job.

"That's- sit down. You can't do that." Her voice was croaky and her chest heaved as she sidestepped to the left towards the door. She didn't want to be in the room with him anymore and (Y/n) didn't need to be. He had tried to assault her, that gave her grounds to leave and she couldn't be forced to care for him any longer.

A high-pitch 'no' tumbled past her lips when a hand was suddenly latched into her hair and her body was propelled backwards. No one had ever grabbed (Y/n) or done anything like this to her before. She had never been in this situation and she didn't imagine she ever would be, either.

Most of the people down in the ER were seeking help, they didn't want to lash out or cause inappropriate situations. They needed help and most of the people (Y/n) treated weren't in any fit state to try anything like this.

"Where'd you think you're going?"

He seemed to try and twist (Y/n) around to face him, but she fought against him, turning her body in the direction of the door, desperate for an escape. And her head stayed twisted away from him as not to give him any satisfaction and show she wasn't agreeing to this situation.

Both (Y/n)'s arms coiled up in front of her but it did no use. She predicted Joe would swoop down and try to kiss her again. She didn't expect him to thrust her to the side and crash her into the bedframe. The beds in the emergency room all had plastic frames with rails around the sides and at the bottom to keep patients stable and secure.

That plastic frame felt like metal when (Y/n)'s forehead collided with it and when Joe slammed into her, the left side of her chest cracked against the bed frame. It knocked all the air from her lungs in the form of a scream and her eyes snapped closed as she felt her body tingling and turning numb.

She crashed to the floor, gasping and trembling through coughs and when her body seemed to come back under her control, (Y/n) could feel a horrible ache pounding in her chest.

Had she broken her ribs? She'd never broken anything other than her fingers before. She didn't know what it was supposed to feel like, but this horrible impaling feeling was close enough.

Her arms were trembling too much and her hands were too numb to try and find the pager on her waist. And she knew she wouldn't have the capability to try and send a message to anyone, not right now. and now she was on the floor, she was out of reach of the emergency buttons at the head of the bed.

Something croaky like a broken whine parted her lips when she felt Joe try to grab her legs. And she realised with utter dismay that he was kneeling over her waist with her thighs trapped between his knees. Pinning her down.

"You're my nurse, aren't you?"

His voice was horrible and gritty and sounded like poison in (Y/n)'s ears and again, she tried to raise her arms above her for protection.

She screamed as loudly as she could, ending in a cough while her legs writhed beneath him, heels scraping against the floor and her hands batted out in front of her when Joe tried to lean down.

He had something in his hand.

(Y/n) screamed again, repeating 'no' and 'help' because she couldn't see what he had grabbed. If it was a needle, she couldn't let him stab her with it. If she got an air bubble in her bloodstream it could kill her, air in the blood caused heart attacks and embolisms. (Y/n) couldn't have him causing that; she could die.

Tears streamed down her face that twisted to the right and she screamed when a sharp burning sensation scraped along the left side of her neck. Quick thorough; it couldn't be a needle he had hurt her with, that would have gone into her skin not sliced against her.

A scalpel. He'd found one on the medical trolley in the corner, that was the only thing sharp in here that he could weaponise.

"Help!"

(Y/n) scraped her heels against the floor, trying in vain to press her feet down and bend her knees to try and give herself some momentum. It didn't work. She couldn't sit up, and she couldn't move Joe off her either. And when the scalpel came within her blurring sight, she tried to reach out for his wrist to keep him at bay.

His hand curled around her already tense, bruised wrist and fought to pin her hand to the floor, earning another scream from (Y/n)'s lips.

Someone had to hear her. Someone had to come to her aid and get this idiot off of her. They had to stop him before he did some real damage or did something unforgiveable because (Y/n) couldn't fend him off on her own.

A sob got stuck in the back of her throat and her vision blurred with more tears as she screamed loud enough to make Joe wince above her and pause, if only for a few seconds.

Would Eddie still be in surgery? Would someone be able to go and get him once someone finally came to (Y/n)'s aid?

She wanted Eddie. She wanted her husband.

For a moment when his hand let go of her bruised wrist, (Y/n) thought maybe he was letting her go. She thought he might be having second thoughts or realising what he was doing in a drug-fuelled rage. But when she saw his hands roaming away from her face and she couldn't see the scalpel anymore, she started to shout.

It took a lot of effort to lift her head from the floor, trying to get her blurring eyes to focus and see what he was doing. She didn't want another injury.

The door flung open and bodies bustled in just as (Y/n) let out a horrific scream when the scalpel imbedded in her waist. The small blade wasn't long enough to imbed into her skin and hit an organ or reach the bone. It would barely cut to the muscle, it was made for skin and light layers of tissue and the blade was as thin as card.

But with enough effort, it plunged at least half an inch deep into (Y/n)'s waist, just above her hip bone.

Something akin to "Fucking nurse!" Blundered past Joe's lips when hands were grappling with his shoulders and at least two doctors and one security man grabbed him.

They dragged him back while a nurse hurried to crouch down beside (Y/n) who all but blacked out when Joe was dragged off of her.

Both her shaking hands moved to plaster against her waist and she coiled her knees up to her abdomen, twisting onto her side. The scalpal was still in Joe's hand. He had yanked it out when the doctors pulled him off her. Thank God it hadn't been a knife and hadn't inflicted a deep wound or (Y/n) would of bled out.

She tried to open her eyes but she could barely see a thing for the spots covering her vision. But she could hear Joe screaming and the thrashing about implied they were trying to pin him to the floor. They would sedate him. (Y/n) knew the drill, she knew a psychotic outburst like this meant they would sedate him and strap his wrists to the bedframe so he couldn't hurt anyone else when he came round.

"(Y/n)? It's okay, let's sit you up so I can take a look at you. Come on."

She recognised that voice, it was Amanda, a fellow nurse. Her hands were warm and cautious when she held onto (Y/n)'s upper arms and tried to get her to sit up. They couldn't help her if she curled up into a ball like this.

(Y/n) trembled back and forth like a leaf when Amanda eased her so she was sitting up, but that was as much help as (Y/n) wanted. She shuffled across the floor until she was cowering against the bedframe, clutching the plastic frame like it was her lifeline. And when Amanda tried to reach out for her again, (Y/n) sobbed and shook her head.

"E-Eddie." She didn't want anyone else's help. She wouldn't let any of them touch her and if they tried she was going to scream.

Amanda sank back on her heels, but she was already nodding and looking across at one of the doctors now that Joe was sedated on the floor. "We need Doctor Diaz down here."

***

"Diaz!"

Eddie couldn't help the sigh that tumbled past his lips and he hung his head down for a moment to try and collect himself.

His hands twitched at his sides, covered in a light layer of powder from the latex gloves he had been wearing for over three hours. He could feel the sheen of sweat trickling down the back of his neck and the way his hair crimped and flopped about his temple, probably flattened like a pancake by now.

With as much of a smile as he could muster, Eddie turned on his heels to see who was calling out to him. He moved his hands to his hips, clutching at the mint green scrubs that felt a little too baggy for him right now. At least he had gotten the scrubs off his shoes, he hated walking in those.

"Hey Jones, you okay?" His smile stayed strong even though his shoulders sagged and he waited to be asked something, it was inevitable. He had only just come out of surgery and already someone had gotten to him before he had the chance to change back into his work clothes.

"I- we have a situation down in the ER-"

"Jones, I'm not being funny but I've been in the OR for what, nearly four hours and I've not even got changed yet. Can't someone else deal with this?"

Was that so much to ask? Was Eddie being too demanding by wanting to have a few minutes to himself before he was dragged from one situation right into another? Why had they collared him? Was it because he had been the closest colleague Jones could find, or had someone sent for him specifically?

"It's your wife," A flash of panic crossed Eddie's face and his hands dropped from his hips while his back straightened out. Now Jones had his full attention. "She had a patient on drugs, he went bezerk and attacked her… he had a scalpel."

"Is she still in the ER?!" Eddie was already sprinting down the hall before Jones could reply.

He heard a faint 'cubicle three' shouted behind him and he waved his hand to signal that he heard the instructions. He slammed his hand against the lift button, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the lift, but it was on the fourth floor and it was taking a long time to get down two levels.

With a grunt, he twisted to the right and aimed for the stairs instead. He had no idea how long ago this incident had happened. (Y/n) could have been hurt up to three hours ago while he had been in surgery. Eddie knew no one would come and get him during surgery unless it was a life or death situation. They would have waited until now to tell him and that meant (Y/n) could have been seen by a colleague or she could have been waiting all this time for Eddie.

He didn't like the thought of either of those options.

He almost skidded twice as he twisted round the corners and bolted down to the ground floor. Panting and breaking out in a cold flush by the time he swiped his badge to enter the ER through the doctor's administration area.

It didn't take long to hurry down the hall, weaving between the cubicles until he found the third one. He knew he must of looked a bit of a sight when he barely knocked on the door before blundering into the room.

He prayed (Y/n) was still in here and he didn't have to go scouting round the hospital to find her.

She was here. Eddie's sights set on her immediately. Surprise washed over his face when he looked around the room which looked twice its usual sight now that there was no bed in the middle of the room. The beds in entire hospital were all moveable so people could be transported quickly and easily. Clearly whoever (Y/n) had been treating in here had been transported out and no one had brought the bed back in yet.

Something snapped inside of Eddie when his eyes locked on his wife. Why had they not moved her out of here? Why was she sat on the floor, curled up like she was a child trying to make herself disappear?

There was (Y/n) in the right corner of the room, pressing herself up against the wall while she stayed as curled up as a little kitten. Eddie recognised the nurse knelt down beside her to be (Y/n)'s friend Amanda. And when he looked to the left, he was a little more than shocked to see one of the security team stood behind the door on the other side of the room to (Y/n).

"Eddie," The relief in Amanda's voice caught Eddie off guard and he headed over to them while Amanda pushed up onto her feet. "She won't let me help."

"I'll take care of her. Both of you, out please." Eddie waved his hand towards the door, trying his best to be polite. He knew his wife. He knew (Y/n) hadn't let Amanda help because she wouldn't want anyone trying to patch her up. And he knew she certainly wouldn't want them standing and observing while Eddie tried to help her either.

Amanda seemed to understand because she didn't look at all put-out or upset. She nodded and led the way out, followed closely by the member of security who nodded in Eddie's direction before leaving, closing the door firmly shut behind him.

His heart broke to see (Y/n) crying like this. He crouched down in front of her, unsure whether or not to reach out for her in case she shrugged off his touch too. But when he rested his cautious hands on her arms, he was relieved to have (Y/n) push herself into his embrace.

Her face burrowed into his chest and she wedged herself into his arms, shivering until Eddie tilted his head down and kissed the back of her head.

"Oh, baby. What happened, Jones said a patient tried to hurt you." Eddie had never worried about (Y/n) getting hurt at work.

Sure, when they had contagious outbreaks and people coming into the ER with unknown illnesses, he worried. He didn't want (Y/n) being susceptible to those illnesses and needing to be treated herself, and neither of them wanted to take anything like that home where Chris could catch it too.

But no one had ever tried to attack (Y/n) before, the thought had never crossed Eddie's mind because it wasn't something that happened often here and (Y/n) was never involved.

His fingers tangled in her hair and for a few seconds, Eddie breathed in her scent and focused on the way her shallow breaths mingled into the thin scrubs he was wearing. But then he moved his hand to cup the side of her face and carefully tilted her head back. She had to talk to him. He had to assess her and find out what was wrong so he could help.

(Y/n)'s hand trembled as she cupped Eddie's wrist and leaned into his touch, trying to look up at him through blurring eyes.

"He was- he was okay, until I t-tried to do bloods. He wouldn't let go, he threw me into the bed…" Her eyes glanced down and she leaned more into his hand until he was practically holding her head up for her, waiting patiently for her to carry on. "He pinned me down, Jameston had to- to get him off me."

It hadn't been (Y/n)'s best hour to have her colleagues have to rush to her aid and physically drag a patient off of her like that. But she didn't have a choice. (Y/n) did everything she could to get out of that situation, but without being allowed to use force and with no one else there was backup, (Y/n) had been defenceless.

Eddie could feel resentment growing inside of him and he hoped he didn't have to see the patient who had done this because he wouldn't be able to hold back.

He went to reply, but his brows furrowed and his heart battered against his ribs when he looked down at his hand which was cradling her face.

He wrenched his hand away from her face and unravelled his other arm from her waist so he could grab her wrist. He pulled her hand close for inspection, taking (Y/n) by surprise, before he held her chin and tilted her head back.

"Where's the blood coming from?!" The urgency in Eddie's voice made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.

Her palm was coated in blood and so was Eddie's wrist from where she had grabbed him. Why was she bleeding? Where had she been hurt to start bleeding? What had that psychotic patient done to make her bleed?

(Y/n) stayed quiet as Eddie tilted her head to the side so he could inspect the slash mark down the side of her neck. It wasn't deep and it had already stopped bleeding, but seeing her with any blood from any altercation like this made Eddie want to scream.

"What'd he do?"

Eddie let go of (Y/n)'s chin and trailed his fingertips down her arms, scanning his eyes up and down her frame while he got a lack of response. But his frown deepened when he realised (Y/n) was slightly creased over and she had her right hand pressing down on the right side of her waist. Something he hadn't noticed earlier.

He held her hand and pulled it away, nostrils flaring as he sucked in the deepest breath (Y/n) had ever seen to the point his chest looked like it was going to explode.

Blood was soaked into her shirt and coated her hand like she was trying to do finger painting.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes tight when Eddie scrunched up her shirt to see the wound. It was small and clearly not deep enough to hit muscle or bone, but it was enough to cause a lot of bleeding like this and the way (Y/n) kept creasing forward with every breath told Eddie it hurt more than she was trying to let on.

"Baby, what did he do?" The guttural tone to Eddie's voice made (Y/n) whimper and she went back to clutching his wrist while he tried to inspect the cut.

"Found a scalpel… Eddie I- I think he broke my ribs, when I hit the bed."

The way Eddie dropped his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose made (Y/n) cry harder. She felt like she had done something wrong. She was a nurse. She was supposed to care for patients and stop situations from getting out of hand like this, but she didn't manage it today.

But when Eddie looked back at her, she was surprised when he pecked her lips and moved his hands to her elbows.

"I'll patch you up, get you an X-ray, then I'm taking you home." He could see his words took her by surprise and he hated how (Y/n) trembled when she gripped his arms, letting him take her weight as he got her up to her feet. He guided her trembling frame across to the chair in the corner and eased her down before he grabbed the stool and wheeled it across so he could sit in front of her.

(Y/n) stayed still and quiet, trying to stifle a whimper when Eddie lifted her arms and took off her shirt, leaving her in her bra and trousers.

Her eyes followed him as he scrubbed the blood from his hands and snapped on a fresh pair of gloves. Expertly finding the cotton swabs and anticeptic before he wheeled closer until their knees were touching and he was hunched over her lap to reach the wound.

Her stomach sucked in and she flinched away from his touch when he started to clean the wound. And he murmured a soft "Sorry baby," every time she flinched.

"Dios, he got you deep for such a small wound." It angered Eddie until he felt like a volcano on the brink of errupting. There had to of been a lot of force to cut (Y/n) this deep with such a small blade and cause this much bleeding.

Eddie threw the cotton swabs in the bin, grimacing at how many bloodied swabs he was using to clean her wound and the surrounding skin. But he had to make sure it was clean and that the bleeding was slowing down. At least it was small enough not to need stitches or gluing back together. Once the bleeding slowed down, Eddie applied some cream and looked for some suture strips.

He needed to keep the wound closed so it wouldn't bleed out. The strips were great for small cuts, but he winced each time he applied one of the thin rectangular strips. Three of them kept the wound tightly closed, and then with a patch of gauze over the top, (Y/n) was patched up.

"Can I check your ribs?"

(Y/n) wordlessly nodded and tried to sit up straighter, holding her left arm out at her side so Eddie could check them.

She felt like closing her eyes, but focused her vision on Eddie's face instead. Their eyes locked for a few moments while his index and middle finger tenderly prodded at her chest, checking each rib down the left side.

"I count two, you'll need a scan because I don't know if they're fractured or clean breaks."

Fractures were worse, they weren't complete splits in the bone and they could heal wrong. And Eddie needed to make sure if they were broken that they weren't at risk of puncturing a lung.

"No other injuries I need to know about, right?" He dreaded to ask in case (Y/n) had any other breaks or sprains or bruises he had to check over. She shouldn't be injured at all. She should be tending to patients and calming them down instead of sitting here, beaten up, needing Eddie to tend to her wounds. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

(Y/n) shook her head and sniffed, trying in vain to stop herself from crying but she couldn't seem to help it.

"I- I'm sorry, I should of-"

"Hey." A gasp elicited from her lips when Eddie's hand gripped her chin and their eyes locked. "I don't wanna hear any of that, mi amor. He hurt you, he had no right to do that and you have nothing to be sorry about. Understand?"

When she nodded, Eddie brushed his thumb across her chin, murmuring a soft "Good," against her lips that he stole a tender kiss from. He could feel salt tears trickling across her lips and each shallow breath she let out, but after another deep kiss, her breaths deepened and began to even out.

He wouldn't have (Y/n) apologise or feel bad for anything. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was the one who had been hurt.

Eddie slid his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist, carefully helping her up from the chair and he managed a smile when she tucked her face into his chest and looped her arms around his neck. He cupped the back of her neck and wound his other arm around her waist, pressing his palm into her lower back where his fingers tapped and messed with the band of her trousers.

"You're okay. I've got you, amor." He pressed his lips longingly and lovingly against the side of her head, breathing in her scent as he began to sway them from side to side.

They didn't need to go for an X-ray right away, they finally had a few moments to spare for Eddie to comfort her and hold her in his arms like this. And he knew in a little while he was going to have to call his father in law and pray that he got through. He didn't want to leave a message for Bobby to say (Y/n) had been attacked at work, it was a conversation that had to happen in person.

But right now, Eddie had to look after her.

#imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #bobby nash #doctor! eddie diaz

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axstoria · 1 month ago

Text

The Gender Issue

CW: Slightly suggestive

(reader is a bit silly, based on @candlewitch-cryptic 's OC's personality. They're very silly, actually)

Jason is exhausted. Patrol was a bitch on this particular night, and all he wants to do is clean up the gash on his arm and crash into bed with his partner.

Steady, weary hands wrap fluffy gauze over the bleeding cut on his forearm, the blood staining the white crimson. He could care less. This was good enough.

You're half-asleep, still trying to stay up just to greet him as he gets home. It's dark, but the sun will be rising in the sky in mere hours, and all you want to do is love up on your man because he deserves it.

Instead of his usual routine of stripping off his gear, chucking it in the corner before stashing his guns and other weapons in a drawer and changing his clothes in the bathroom—which he still all does—he comes out without a shirt.

Your boyfriend is attractive, that you already knew. This was the first time seeing him like this, though. You'd begged him in the past to take his shirt off during sex, wanting that skin-to-skin contact you yearned for, yet to no avail.

Yet here, in the dim light of the moon still filtering in through the curtains, you can see every scar laid bare before your eyes.

He notices you're awake, a little grin curving his lips. "Hey, baby," he whispers. "I wake you?"

You shake your head softly with a little yawn, blinking a few times before going back to mapping the roadmap of his body with your eyes. You catch the raised skin forming a 'Y' that runs under his pecs and down his belly.

Realization hits. So that's why he never wanted to be touched or unclothed during sex.

"Jay, why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" he asks, raising a brow at you.

You hum, tucking a stray hair away from your face. "It's okay, I dunno why you never brought it up. I don't mind eating pussy."

His face goes from confused to baffled in a matter of seconds. Jason's eyes are wide and staring down at you like you've grown two heads.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your scars. Top surgery?" You point up to his chest.

"I got dissected, you dumbass," he scoffs, sliding into bed and pulling you close by slipping an arm around you.

"Oh." You quickly settle into his arms as he tucks your head under his chin. "Why?"

Jason emits a sigh before mumbling, "Long story. Go to bed."

"Love you, Jay."

"Love you, too, dumbass."

#jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #x reader #dc x reader #drabble #dc comics #axstoria

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elenadvrx · 9 months ago

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you could feel him seething from where he was sitting behind you in your shared office while you attend to a regular client.

both you and your fiancé, iwaizumi hajime (27), are athletic trainers. you met him while in college and only got together after he graduated and you were in your last year. when the both of you decided to professionally pursue a career in this field, the both of you decided to open and share a centre where you could assess and treat clients.

you have been working together for almost two years and everything was going great. well, as great as it could go with iwaizumi glaring daggers at you and your client while you go on about the session.

your client was a little…well, touchy. he has an on and off issue with his knee after his surgery and sometimes has difficulty walking. during the sessions, he would walk a few steps before accidentally lose his footing and fall against you, stabilising himself with an arm around your waist.

it was fine during the first few times, but he constantly did it during every. single. session. you wish you could just chuck him out but you didn't want to be unprofessional. you also did not want to lose the reputation as your centre was still quite new.

seeing how often he feints his collapses to fall on you, iwaizumi finally had enough of his act and decided to take matters into his own hand. he struts towards the two of you before ripping off the arm that was around you.

“get out.”

"wh-what? hey, you can't just tell me to get out. my session is not over yet!"

"did you hear me stutter? get. out." iwaizumi's face was now inches away from the poor guy.

"get out and never come back. if you do, it'll not just be your knee that's going to be in pain, you hear me?"

the guy’s face suddenly looked white as a sheet. he audibly gulps and went to pack his things before leaving the room in a hurry.

"huh, strange. his knee suddenly seems goddamn fine when he ran off. tsk." your fiance grunted to himself.

sighing dejectedly, you shook your head at iwaizumi. horrified that you most probably lost a client and wondered what would happen because of it, but — ah who cares, the guy was a creep anyways and you did enjoy watching your hunk of a man scare him away.

“why are you shaking your head at me for? if i didn’t know you, i’d think you actually didn’t mind that he was all touchy feely with you.”

going back to his desk, he sits down before crossing his arms and glares at you. he then carries on typing on his keyboard, continuing his work from before. but when you look closely, you could see a subtle pout of his lips.

is he– oh is he actually sulking and pouting at you?

“aww, hajime baby, don’t be pouty–“

“hey i’m not! i’m not p-pouting, you’re just imagining things. i’m not like shittykawa who constantly whines and pouts at the smallest things that upset him–“

you interrupted his rant with a wet kiss to his lips.

“okay baby, i believe you. and i’m sorry i didn’t stop him after the first few times. i will be sure to enforce some boundaries the next time, okay?”

iwaizumi then pulled you onto his lap, tucking your head under his chin. “yeah, you better.” you heard him mumble.

curious, you peek up at him to see him obviously pouting but you decided to spare his manly pride and let him be.

“but you’re still cute when you pout baby,” you remark before you bolted off.

“brat, get back here!”

maybe not. you enjoy teasing him anyways heh.

#iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi hajime imagines #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

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Surgery

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're in charge

You're there, the day that Mami hurts her knee.

She's running with you in her arms right after training and then all of a sudden, you're both on the ground. She's managed to roll so her weight doesn't crush you but only part way because your head bounces painfully on the grass.

You're slightly disorientated when you're pulled from Mami's arms by Mami's girlfriend Ingrid. You shake your head and then burst into tears when you notice all of the people around Mami.

You cry and cry and cry and force yourself under Ingrid's shirt so you can listen to her heartbeat at the same time as hiding yourself away from everything.

Mami spends a long time with the team doctor and you sob into Ingrid as she tries to look after you. She knows something bad though. You know that she knows what bad thing has happened to Mami but she just won't tell you.

You know she knows because she calls your Abuela and Abeulo and they never get called for anything that isn't serious.

Mami comes out on crutches and you cry even more.

"Hey," She coos to you," I'm okay. What are you crying about?"

"I hurted you!" You say through your tears," Hurted you real bad!"

"You didn't hurt me," Mami promises," I just had a little accident but that's alright. I'm going to have surgery and it's all going to be okay."

It doesn't sound like she'll be okay at all.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"We're just going to have to help Mami out for a bit," Ingrid says," We're going to have to look after her."

"Like you and Mami look after me?"

"Yes."

Mami ends up getting surgery within a few days. Ingrid's getting ready to fly to Sweden to play Rosengard but she manages to be there for Mami's surgery.

Abuela and Abuelo are there too.

"Mami," You say softly as you climb up onto her bed," Is it going to take long?" You speak quietly because Mami's Ingrid is sleeping, eyes closed like a Disney princess as she holds Mami's hand tight in her own.

"Probably about an hour," Mami replies," Why? Are you worried?"

You shake your head. "I'm being very brave," You say to her because that's what Ingrid told you you were being a few nights ago when she tucked you into bed.

"You are being brave," Mami agrees," My brave little lion cub."

You make your hands into claws. "Rawr!"

Mami does the same with a smile. "Rawr!"

"Hmm," Ingrid shifts in her sleep, blearily opening her eyes to study you both," Are you being lions again?"

"Rawr!" You say and she smiles.

"What a brave little lion cub," She says, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes," Is this lion cub hungry?"

You nod and she fishes some snacks out of her bag, slapping Mami's hands away when she tries to take some.

"No," Ingrid says sternly," You can't eat anything until after surgery. Here, cub, for you."

"Thank you, Ingrid." You lean over Mami to kiss Ingrid's cheek and then you say to Mami for good measure," You can't eat these because of your knee. It needs to be fixed first."

Mami's knee gets fixed and, when she comes home, she naps with Bagheera while you and Ingrid make lunch.

"Alright," Ingrid says that evening as she tucks you into bed," I've got a very special job for you."

Being tucked into bed was usually a job for Mami and Ingrid but Mami is still hurt so she gives you your kisses and bedtime snuggles in the living room before letting Ingrid take you to bed.

"I can do the special job."

"Well," Ingrid says, sitting against your pillows with you," I need to go away for a few days."

"To play Rosengard," You supply.

"Yes, to play Rosengard. And well I'm away, I'm going to need you to look after your Mami."

"I can look after Mami," You confirm, nodding.

"Very good." Ingrid tucks you in nice and tight, pulling your blankets up to your chin. "It's a very special job. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ask to do it."

You smile. "Love you, Ingrid!"

"Love you too!"

With Ingrid gone the next day, it means that you're in charge and you tell Mami so when you stand in front of her with your arms crossed over your chest.

"You have to do what I say," You tell her," 'Cause you don't have a knee anymore and Ingrid put me in charge."

Mami laughs. "I still have a knee."

"Don't lie!" You say," Ingrid says I'm in charge and Ingrid's the boss!"

Mami laughs again. "That's right. Ingrid is the boss."

You nod. "And I'm the littler boss so you have to do what I say."

"Alright," She says," What are you telling me to do?"

You think for a moment. "You have to stay still," You say eventually," And look after your leg that doesn't have a knee. It needs lots of love to regrow your knee."

You nod decisively like you've just solved a global issue and clamber up to sit next to Mami. You pat her on the head and wave your finger in her face. "No moving. I get drinks!"

Most of your day is spent sitting with Mami watching movies and telling her off when she tries to move. Ingrid left you in charge and you tell Mami not to move so she's being bad when she tries to.

You tell her as much and it makes her sit back down.

You watch the match Ingrid is at together and celebrate when Barcelona win six goals to none.

"You have to stay still!" You say to Mami when she moves a bit too much in celebration. "You don't have a knee!" You lean down to her bandaged leg and give it a little kiss like she and Ingrid do to your cuts when you get hurt.

"Ingrid will be mad if you keep ignoring me!" You declare," You have to not move!"

"Okay, lion cub," Mami says. She drags a hand through your hair before cupping your face. "You're doing such a good job looking after me, thank you."

"You're welcome, Mami. Do we call Ingrid now?"

"We can call Ingrid."

Ingrid picks up on the second ring and her smiling face greets you and Mami.

"Hi, my girls," She says," Has Mami been good?"

"She keeps trying to move," You report," But I stopped her!"

"Very good, lion cub!" Ingrid says," I know you'd be the best for the job."

You beam at her and Mami brushes a hand through your hair softly.

"She's the very best," Mami says," My best girl."

"When are you coming home, Ingrid?" You ask," Mami can't tuck me into bed."

"I'll be home tomorrow," Ingrid promises you," I miss you both very much. Why don't you keep Mami company in our bed tonight? That way she doesn't need to tuck you in."

"Okay! I'll sleep with Mami in your bed!"

"In that case-" Mami pats you on the head and guides you to your feet "- Why don't you go and grab your pyjamas and get ready? We can have bedtime snuggles in my bed."

"Okay!" You scamper off down the hall before turning around again and pointing a finger at Mami. "Don't move! I have to help!"

"Okay, lion cub," Mami says," I won't move."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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starmocha · 6 months ago

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12:30 PM Checkup [Zayne + Son ★ 767 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Zayne has an appointment with a very adorable doctor. A/N: Maybe I’m ovulating or something lmao but I want this man’s babies. But since he’s fictional, I’ll settle for writing little self-indulgent ficlets. 🫠

It was one of Zayne’s very few days off, and unfortunately, he found himself at the doctor’s office for a routine checkup. It was fortunate, however, that the doctor was someone he was very familiar with and trusted completely with his health. As a matter of fact, the very esteemed doctor was his three-year-old son and the so-called doctor’s office was his son’s bedroom.

He watched with amusement as the little boy, a spitting image of his father minus the hair color, adjusted his doctor play clothes. Zayne could barely contain his chuckle when his son put on the faux round-rimmed glasses and walked over to him holding a clipboard while maintaining a comically stoic expression on his young face.

“Patient’s name is…Daddy!” the young doctor declared, looking expectantly at his patient.

Zayne chuckled and nodded. “Correct, Doctor.”

“I have to listen to Daddy’s heart,” the little boy said, holding up his toy stethoscope. He pressed the toy to his father’s chest, and looked thoughtful as he “listened” to the grown man’s heart. After a few seconds, he nodded approvingly. “Heart is good, Daddy.”

Zayne sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, Doctor.” He blinked in surprise as his son pulled out a reflex hammer.

“Daddy’s knee now!”

Over the next few minutes, the young doctor performed a thorough examination on his patient, checking his ear, eyes, throat, and so on, all while diligently scribbling his notes down onto his clipboard. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he reviewed the notes from the wellness exam.

“Well, Doctor,” Zayne started, looking at the young boy expectantly, “Is there a diagnosis?”

The boy nodded grimly. “Daddy is tired.”

Zayne held back his laugh at the child’s acute observation. “What would be your prescription for such an ailment then?”

“One strawberry candy every day,” his doctor replied, adding another scribble to his clipboard.

Zayne actually chuckled this time. “Consider it done.” His voice took on a serious tone as he looked at the little doctor concerned. “Doctor, I believe my insurance isn’t covered under your practice. May I use an alternative payment?”

The young doctor looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin again before holding up three chubby fingers, answering with a serious expression, “Three macarons.”

“Outrageous!” Zayne exclaimed, mock-offended, “My previous checkup only costed me one box of apple juice.”

Zayne wondered belatedly if his tone and expression might have seemed a touch stiff when he realized his doctor was starting to tear up. He knelt down to his son’s level and wiped at the boy’s eyes, apologizing softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Daddy is just joking.” He smiled when his son calmed down and he rubbed the boy’s cheek affectionately, “Three macarons it is, but I am afraid payment will have to be postponed until after naptime.”

“No nap!” The boy crossed his arms defiantly. “I still have to check Mr. Seal and Pan-Pan and the Windy Carrots and—”

“Even doctors take naps,” Zayne interrupted with a firm voice before softening it again, “One might even argue that doctors enjoy naps the most.”

The boy looked up at him dejected. “Do you nap, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Zayne answered with a nod as he helped his son remove the doctor costume and put away some of the toys. He gathered his son into his arms as he carried the little boy to his bed. “Sometimes I nap in my car or office in between surgeries.” He tucked his son into bed, kissing his cheek. “Now, won’t you be a good boy and take your nap for Daddy?”

“Story?” his son gave him the most pitiful pout a three-year-old can muster.

Zayne sighed, half-exasperated and half-amused. “You are just like your mother,” he muttered to himself before sitting down on the edge of the boy’s bed. “Alright, one story.”

Zayne outstretched his hand, conjuring up snowy imageries as he spun a tale with evil carrots that had taken over an innocent kingdom. Thankfully, one brave seal stood up against this evil force and taken them down along with help from Happy Snowman and its friends.

The boy watched the snowy scenery with rapt fascination as it changed following Zayne’s storytelling. As Zayne neared the end of his impromptu story, he noticed his son’s sleepy face, catching sight of a yawn escaping. He smiled to himself and quickly wrapped up the story as he re-tucked the sleepy boy into bed.

“Sweet dreams,” Zayne whispered, kissing the top of his son’s head as the little boy finally dozed off, “When you wake up, Daddy will take you and Mommy out for macarons.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #x — fanfics #lnds series — sweet little snowdrop #see i'm capable of writing something other than angst #🫠#consider this a filler #because i am coming for rafayel with the angst next #and that fish is going to hurt good #😊

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 1 year ago

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Unpredictable-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: I was inspired a lot by the Bama Rush documentary and couldn't get the idea of a sorority girl in GOD U out of my head. Let me know if you want a part 2.

Warnings: some swearing

Words: 5.2k

Series Masterlist

Future probability cognition, the ability to see potential future outcomes, was usually a nice power to have. At 7, I knew my parents were going to get divorced before either of them considered filing. At 9, I knew my mother would focus all her energy on the agency. At 12, I knew that my older brother would take a head of surgery job in Buenos Aires, escaping the chaos at home. Despite this history, nothing could have prepared me for my second year at Godolkin.

The first day back on campus was uneventful: I survived a grueling early morning Pilates class that I envisioned would put me in Sydney’s, the Si Chi president, good graces and, later in the afternoon, I settled an argument between two Si Chi juniors by predicting that brunch would be the most successful rush event.

Being (one of) the first black high-ranking members of Si Chi could be a full-time job.

As I was re-reading the chapters for Brink’s class, my V-Phone buzzed with a text from Leah, one of the seniors in the sorority.

L: Do you know Emma?

I quickly typed back: Which one? Wallace or the girl who got the botched nj in SK?

L: Neither. Short girl with curly blonde hair. She’s here 4 u.

The yelp that left my mouth would have been embarrassing if anyone else was in the house study room. Quickly, I tucked my book under my arm and ran into the ivory and wood-paneled foyer complete with Tiffany crystal chandelier and faint instrumental piano music playing through the Bluetooth speakers. At the door, Leah’s arms were crossed over her lavender babydoll dress as she smiled fakely at Emma, who looked more apprehensive than usual.

“Emma, hi, I thought I told you to text me when you got here!” I greeted as I approached the two.

Emma’s expression relaxed when her blue eyes landed on me. “Sorry, I got distracted and then I got lost trying to find you.”

I glanced at Leah, who shot me a questioning look. “Thanks, Leah, I can take it from here.”

Leah shrugged, turned, and teleported into thin air. Emma’s eyes widened again as she stepped further into the house and I closed the door behind her.

“Sorry about Leah; she’s cagier than usual because she couldn’t get a refill on her favorites,” I explained.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you aren’t like that,” Emma admitted.

I paused to finally hug her and she nearly crushed me as she wound her arms around my middle. It felt like forever since I had seen Emma, even though it was at my dad’s annual 4th of July barbecue. When I pulled away, Emma eyed the book in my hand.

“You’re reading before school starts. Nerd,” she teased.

I playfully pushed her shoulder. “We’re in college, we have to take school way more seriously now. Besides, a requirement for Si Chi is at least a 3.8.”

Emma tapped her chin. “Let me guess, you have a 4.0.”

I smiled and tugged her further into the house. Of course, I had to give her a tour of the house and introduce her to the girls we passed. When we finally got to my room, Emma collapsed on top of my pastel blue comforter, dropping her bag on the matching rug.

“I know Si Chi is a top house, but you basically live in Barbie’s Dream House,” Emma beamed. “How do I get in? What do I have to do? I will do literally anything or anyone.”

I rolled my eyes and set my book on my desk. “I’m glad you like the place but, you haven’t even met your roommate yet. What’s her name again?”

Emma pushed herself up on her elbows with a huff. “Marie Moreau. I tried to find her on social media, but she doesn’t have any: No X, no TikTok, not even an obligatory Facebook.”

Social media presence was basically a requirement at GOD U these days so it was a bold move for someone to show up without any. It could mean Marie was hardcore about her studies or…

“She might have strict parents,” I pointed out, sitting next to Emma.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “They better not be weird, cult-y parents. I guess that would be my luck too: have a psycho roommate my freshman year.”

“Hey, no one could have had it worse than me: a slob who always had boys over and threatened to gut me in my sleep,” I argued.

“But, you saw all of that coming,” Emma argued.

I shook my head. “Only the part where she stood over my bed with a knife in hand.” I sighed and pressed my hands into the covers. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that ever again.”

“Really, because some of these girls are giving unhinged,” Emma replied.

“The nice thing is I either pick up on the signs or ‘see’ their breaking point,” I explained.

Emma nodded and pushed herself off my bed to start exploring my room. As she started messing with my checkered Moschino teddy bear figurine, my phone buzzed on my desk. When I grabbed it, I saw it was a video call from Cate.

“Hi, what’s up?” I greeted, holding the phone at the most flattering angle.

“I’m trying to entertain myself while Luke preps for training,” Cate admitted.

“What, you’re not totally entertained by your star boyfriend?” I teased.

Cate rolled her eyes. “No, I can’t wait for this to be over. You’re coming, right?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, we have a rush event at the same time, including a choreographed dance.”

“Ooh, did you choreograph it?” Cate asked.

“I might have helped a little.”

“Well, I’m pissed I’ll miss it but make sure to have someone send me all the cute videos and pictures,” Cate requested.

“Sure.”

There was some yelling in the background and Cate rolled her eyes.

“I have to go but we’ll talk later.”

“Bye!”

When I hung up, Emma was staring at me with her mouth gaping, the teddy figurine dangerously close to slipping from her grasp and onto the hardwood floor. I crossed the room as quickly as I could and carefully placed the figurine back on my dresser.

“Emma, I love you but if you break anything, I will lose it,” I warned.

“You know Cate Dunlap?” Emma asked slowly.

“Oh, yeah, she’s my peer mentor. Dean Shetty paired us up last year since our powers are similar,” I answered.

“So, you’ve met Luke Riordan? Like, you’ve been in his presence?”

“Yes,” I answered slowly.

“And you didn’t faint or throw up from his glory?”

“Emma, he’s a regular person. His powers are insane but he is also human, just like us.”

“No, I’m a regular person. Luke Riordan is, like, a demigod or something. Is he better looking in person?”

I hesitated and busied myself with grabbing my rush outfit from my closet and setting it on my bed. Then, I stared at my shoes, feeling Emma’s eyes bored into the back of my head. I closed my eyes and focused on the event tonight, the potential sounds and people. Seconds later, I got a decent image of my Si Chi sisters and I dancing in front of the house, surrounded by freshmen girls in Princess Polly and House of CB. I focused all my energy on looking at our feet and tried not to groan when I saw red high-top Converse.

“Every time,” I muttered as I opened my eyes.

Two more years, just two more years of going along and I would reap the benefits: a strong ranking, a decent contract, and my pick of the most eligible supes. I just had to keep playing the game.

I grabbed my platform red Converses and set them in front of my bed, sheepishly turning to Emma. “Yes, Emma.”

She squealed. “I knew it!”

I laughed at her joy as she bounced in her Vans. “Go to the training today and see for yourself.”

Emma’s expression deflated slightly as she walked closer to me. “I wish you could come, you could introduce us!”

“There will be a next time,” I stated.

“Promise?” She held up her pinky and eyed me as I slowly wrapped my manicured one around hers. She opened her mouth but was cut off by an alarm going off on her phone. “Shit, I have to go film a video!”

“You’re still doing Little Cricket?” I asked.

Emma shushed me loudly and her eyes filled with panic. “Not so loud and definitely not in this house!”

The girls probably already know all about it, I thought.

I flipped my waist-length box braids over my shoulder and laughed as she rushed towards the door. “You don’t know where you’re going, let me walk you out!”

She paused for a split second and gave me some time to catch up to her. However, I led her through the quickest route back to the front door and she gave me a quick hug before she took off. I laughed as I closed the door behind her.

“Some things never change,” I mused.

When I got back up to my room, I realized she left her backpack and groaned. She would have to learn to be more responsible if she was going to survive more than a week here. So, I grabbed my purse and her backpack before traipsing the campus. Fortunately, Emma had texted me her dorm information before she got on campus.

“In case of an emergency,” she’d insisted.

The freshman dorms were not as bad as I remembered them but I cringed at a few musty speedster jocks I crossed in the hallway. A brief premonition helped me duck to avoid an ice user’s power going out of control when I finally made it to Emma’s door. First, I rapped on the door three times.

“Emma, it’s me, you really have to keep a better eye on your stuff!” I called.

After a few seconds of no answer, I knocked again.

“Seriously? I can’t always be looking after you,” I teased.

Finally, the door swung open, revealing a pretty black girl with big brown eyes and long brown dreads that were pulled partly away from her face. Her eyes widened at me and I smiled.

“Sorry, I’m looking for Emma, she left her bag in my----”

Emma cut me off, appearing next to the girl, “I was wondering where that went, thanks!” She grabbed the bag from me.

“Oh, uh, come in,” the girl said, stepping aside.

I nodded and wandered further into their dorm. It was small, like most freshman dorms, but Emma’s side offered pops of color and coziness. The other side was more basic, probably because the girl just moved in.

“Marie, this is Y/N, my best friend, Y/N, Marie,” Emma introduced as she plopped onto her bed.

I turned to Marie and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She hesitated slightly before shaking my hand. “You too.”

“Don’t worry, Marie, you’ll get used to her hotness,” Emma advised.

My cheeks warmed as I whirled around to my friend. “Emma!”

“It’s true!”

The embarrassment floated in the pit of my stomach as I faced Marie, who looked somewhere between surprised and amused. “Sorry about her, she speaks without thinking.”

“It’s okay. How do you two know each other?” Marie asked.

“Her mom represents me,” Emma answered.

“Oh.”

“She’s the one who helped encourage me to make a YouTube channel and is helping me get into more commercials until my big break,” Emma continued.

I sighed as I sat in Emma’s desk chair. “We’ve known each other since I was four and she was three.”

“Do you want to be an actor too?” Marie asked.

I shook my head. “I tried it when I was little but it wasn’t for me.”

Emma’s eyes lit up and she sat up on her bed. “You should have seen her, she was so cute! She was that toddler in that one diaper commercial----”

“Emma,” I softly begged.

Marie laughed. “Now, I’m curious.”

“Please don’t look it up, it’s not worth it anyway,” I insisted.

Marie shrugged and sat on her bed. “My curiosity might get the best of me.”

“Why did you have to mention that stupid commercial?” I whined at Emma, who laughed at my pain. “Anyway, what’s your major?”

“Crimefighting,” Marie answered.

I straightened up. “Me too.”

“So, you’ve had classes with Brink? How is he? What’s he like?” Marie rambled.

“Well, he’s really tough on first years and makes his tests almost impossible to pass,” I admitted.

“Really?” Marie asked.

“But, I can help you if you want; I did pretty well last year,” I offered.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I questioned where they came from. Marie was a complete stranger, yet she was one of the easiest people to talk to. Normally, I stumbled over my words in front of new people, and this was…new.

“That would be great, thanks,” Marie replied.

Emma leaned forward. “Y/N, you are way too modest. She was in the top ten of the first years last year and she has a peer mentor and meets with Brink on a regular basis.”

Marie snapped her attention to me. “Wait, what?”

I shook my head. “She makes it sound more impressive than it is.”

“No, I’m not; she hangs out with the Top Five all the time.”

“Top Five?” Marie asked.

Emma and I turned to her, stunned.

“You don’t know what the Top Five are?” Emma asked slowly.

Marie shook her head, growing tenser the longer we looked at her.

“Godolkin ranks all the students based on their Q score, which is basically the strength of their powers, academics, and social media engagement. The Top One Hundred are the only ones published every day,” I explained.

“And the Top Five are the only ones everyone really cares about since they’re the ones most likely to make it into the Seven,” Emma added. “It’s on the GOD U app.”

“I don’t have a phone,” Marie admitted.

Emma balked at her. “How have you gone this far in life without a phone?”

Marie shrugged. “My parents wouldn’t let me have one.”

“What about emergencies?” I asked.

“Someone else always has one,” Marie countered.

Something was off about her statement and I knew that if I focused on it long enough, I would get a premonition about her. However, I decided that it would be rude to do that in conversation and tabled it for later.

“You’ll get through it,” I said.

“So, what ranking are you, Y/N?” Marie asked.

“Last I checked, I was number twenty,” I recalled.

Marie and Emma’s eyes widened at me, and I shrunk a little under their gaze. It really was not that impressive considering how intense the nineteen other people above me were.

“That’s amazing!” Emma cheered, leaping off her bed and hugging me.

“How did that happen?” Marie asked gently.

When Emma pulled away, I replied, “Well, right before summer break, I had a premonition about a case Brink had the class working on all year.”

“You solved a crime?” Marie concluded.

“I just helped with a tip,” I insisted.

“Please, Y/N, don’t act like you haven’t solved cases before,” Emma stated.

I narrowed my eyes at her and Emma smirked in reply. Marie held up her hands and shook her head.

“Wait, as in plural?”

“It’s really not a big deal. With all the forensics, psychology, and ethics classes you’ll take, you’ll be solving them too.”

Marie looked unconvinced but did not push it. “So, what’s your ability? I’m sorry if that’s rude to ask.”

“No, it’s fine. Future probability cognition, I can see potential outcomes for the future,” I explained.

“That’s amazing,” Marie complimented.

“Eh, a lot of times it means I get blurry images in my head but it’s helpful sometimes. What about you?”

“Blood manipulation.”

“Whoa, no offense, but that is such a supervillain power,” Emma thought outloud.

“Emma!”

“I said ‘no offense’!”

Marie laughed. “It’s okay, I get why people would think that.”

“Can you give us a demonstration?” Emma asked.

Marie nodded and grabbed a switchblade from her cargo pants’ pocket. In a graceful motion, she cut one of her palms and held it out in front of her. Seconds later, a circle of blood floated in the air like water, swirling each way. Marie smiled at our expressions and the blood slowly flowed back in her palm and the mark healed.

“That was awesome!” Emma cheered.

“I think Brink will like you,” I added.

“Thanks. I think it’s your turn, Y/N,” Marie said.

I hesitated. “Well, mine is definitely not as impressive as yours and I can’t promise I’ll see anything…positive.”

“That’s okay,” Marie insisted.

“You can use me as a demonstration,” Emma offered.

I turned to her and closed my eyes. My mind wandered to images of her face and the sound of her laugh. Eventually, I saw an image of her rolling around her dorm bed with some guy. Then, all of a sudden, she was small and--- “AAAH!” I jumped from my seat, both underclassmen looking at me confused.

“Is it that bad?” Emma asked.

My eyes looked everywhere but my best friend and my hands unconsciously flexed. “Whatever you do, do not bring a guy here in the future.”

“You don’t want me to get laid?”

“I don’t think you would want to experience what I just saw.” I shivered at the thought.

“Have your powers made you respond like that before?” Marie asked.

I nodded. “It’s rare, though, and I have help to get a handle on it.”

Slowly, I sat down and focused on the orange circle rug on the floor. Suddenly, I wished Cate was there to wipe that premonition from my memory. My stomach churned and I swallowed thickly.

“Oh, Marie, you have to come to the training with me today,” Emma announced.

“What training?”

“The Top Five have public training at the beginning of every year. This year, Luke Riordan is up first,” Emma explained with a grin.

“Luke’s a big deal?” Marie asked.

“Hell yeah, he’s number one!” Emma chastised.

Marie turned to me. “Are you going?”

I looked up at her and wondered if she seemed kind of hopeful. “No, I have to do rush tonight.”

“On top of everything else, she is also the secretary of Si Chi, the top sorority on campus,” Emma bragged.

“Wow, are you always this busy?” Marie asked.

“Not always. Things calm down once rush is over.” My phone beeped in my bag and I grabbed it. “Speaking of which, I have to run and get ready.”

“But you already look nice,” Marie commented.

“Thanks, but I need to be up to Si Chi standards. Have fun at the training and Emma, please try not to act up too much.”

“I can’t control what will happen once his clothes burn off.”

“What?” I shook my head. “I’ll see you around.”

The next day, I was shocked awake by a series of texts from Emma.

E: Emergency, pls come 2 my dorm.

E: Srsly, Marie needs ur help.

Immediately, I wondered my Marie would need my help. When I reached out to Emma last night, she was busy gushing over Luke and never mentioned any issues. Also, I didn’t see any posts about her on social media which calmed my nerves.

After texting her I would be there soon, I slowly pushed myself to sit up in my head and pushed my silk sleep mask up over my scarf. Then, I meditated for a few minutes, breathing through all the chaotic thoughts and scenarios that included strangers and people that I knew. Just when my temples began to throb, I stopped and made my way into the en-suite bathroom.

About thirty minutes later, Emma shoved her dorm room open and pulled me in. She was wearing a gray GOD U t shirt and matching shorts, her curly stuck up in random places.

“Where the hell have you been?” she whispered.

“I got here as soon as I could,” I defended. “What’s going on?”

Marie stood from her desk, a deep frown on her face, and made her way towards us. “I’m not in any Crimefighting classes; it’s all performing arts!”

I cocked my head to the side. “That’s weird. Can I see your schedule?”

“It’s on my phone.” Emma handed it to me and I started scrolling through Marie’s schedule.

“Did you register for any performing arts classes?” I asked.

“No, I registered for all the first-year Crimefighting classes,” Marie insisted.

The frustration was thick in her voice and I wondered what was keeping her from punching a hole in the wall.

“Is there anything I can do?” Marie asked.

“Sorry, I don’t know. I’ve never heard of this happening.” I paused for a moment and smiled. “But I might be able to help. I have a meeting with Brink today and if you come with me, I could introduce you and we could get this all figured out.”

“Really? Do you know how it will go?”

“Let me try.”

I closed my eyes and focused on Brink, the Crimefighting building, and Marie. The images were as blurry as a Monet up close and all the audio was muffled as if everyone was speaking underwater. When I opened my eyes, I shook my head at Marie.

“Looks like it’s up to fate,” I commented.

Marie deflated and I did not know whether to comfort her or not.

“I’m sending good vibes your way,” Emma offered.

“Thanks, we’ll need it,” Marie replied.

As much as I wanted to push back, I did not like not knowing how this would turn out. My heart drummed in my ears later that day as we walked to the Lamplighter building. At the very least, the sun was beaming on everything, making Godolkin look shinier than usual. It was the perfect day for the white cherry-printed sundress and denim jacket I wore with platform white sandals. My braids flowed freely around me under the cool breeze.

When we walked into the building, I let out the breath I did not know I was holding in.

“You okay?” Marie asked.

“Yeah, why?” I replied.

“Your heart rate picked up,” she observed.

I paused and looked at her. “You can hear my heartbeat?”

She nodded. “Sorry, I know that’s kind of weird.” “Nothing’s weird at this school but, that’s good to know,” I assured.

I made a mental note to be more intentional in meditation as I led Marie to Brink’s office. The Lamplighter building was practically empty since most students were sleeping off hangovers. However, Jordan Li wasn’t most students and was at their usual post, the desk outside of Brink’s office, eyes focused on their laptop. They were in their feminine form, hair slicked back in a low ponytail.

A small smile etched its way on my glossed lips at the sight and I turned to Marie, whose eyes widened at Jordan.

“Let me do the talking,” I whispered.

“Sounds good,” she answered, nodding.

As soon as we got in front of Jordan’s desk, I waved my hand in front of their face to no avail. With no choice, I grinned as I slammed my hands on the desk and called their name. Immediately, Jordan jumped in their seat, yanking their earbuds out as they exclaimed an expletive.

I laughed as they rolled their eyes at me.

“Seriously, freshie?” Jordan commented.

“You can’t call me that anymore, I’m a sophomore,” I sang.

“It doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Jordan teased.

My cheeks warmed at their words and I gripped my Longchamp tote closer to me in an attempt to get a grip on myself.

“By the way, I loved your little dance from last night,” Jordan added.

“You saw that?” I rasped.

“Rushtok is so big that no one can escape it.” Jordan glanced at their laptop. “You’re early, as usual.”

“I like to be punctual but, I also have someone who might be your new favorite freshman,” I replied.

“Impossible,” Jordan scoffed.

I nodded to Marie, who slowly moved to stand next to me. “This is Marie Moreau. Marie, this is Jordan Li, Brink’s TA.”

Jordan glanced at Marie, a smirk disappearing from their face. “Hi.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. You’re so awesome; your powers are incredible,” Marie confessed.

Jordan smirked. “I’m glad I impressed a freshman.”

Marie looked taken aback and glanced at me.

“I brought Marie with me since there’s been a mix-up. She applied for Crimefighting but she’s in all the performing arts classes. So, I was thinking that you’d be able to help,” I explained.

Jordan looked back at their laptop and started typing again. “I know, I’m the one who rejected her.”

Their words hung in the air and I could feel a lump starting to form in my throat. As smart as Jordan was, they were either unaware of how deeply their bluntness could cut or they did not care. After knowing them for a year, I began to lean toward the latter.

“What?” Marie muttered.

“Why?” I questioned.

“She has no social media presence and, even though her scores are decent, she needs a following,” Jordan rattled.

“Isn’t that a little biased? Do you know what her powers are? If you knew, I think you would be open to making an exception,” I argued gently. “Besides, she can still get a following online. With her face, it will take no time.”

As soon as the comment left my mouth, I froze. I had no idea why I said that, maybe Emma’s tendencies had rubbed off on me.

“Sorry, the decision’s final.” Jordan did not sound apologetic at all and I thought I saw them trying not to smirk again.

“You can’t do that. Let me talk to Professor Brink,” Marie requested.

“There’s no point, he leaves all admission decisions to me,” Jordan said. “You should learn from your friend. Y/N here has ten million followers across her social media and solved the Glasgow Ripper case and a twenty-year-old cold case before she got here.”

Marie whirled around to me. “You solved the Glasgow Ripper case?”

“I just gave them a tip and it was supposed to be anonymous,” I muttered.

“Nothing is anonymous with Vought,” Jordan countered. “Plus, you led them to key evidence.”

“They would have solved it…eventually,” I admitted.

Based on my original estimate, it would have taken them three years and I always felt horrible whenever they showed the victims’ families on the news. The tension in the space was thick as Jordan and Marie glared at each other. I wracked my brain for something, anything to say.

Fortunately, Brink took care of the tension when he burst out of his office, gun in hand, and shot at Jordan. Marie yelped as Jordan switched to their male form and absorbed the shot.

“Wow, every time,” Brink admired.

“If you keep it up, I’m going to run out of shirts, sir,” Jordan replied, smiling.

Brink turned to Marie and me. “Oh, Y/N, you’re here, early as always.”

“Hi, Professor Brink. How was your summer?” I asked.

“Busy. And yours?”

“Good. Um, Professor, I don’t want to take too much of your time, but this is Marie Moreau and there was a mix-up with her schedule,” I started.

Professor Brink nodded and turned to Marie. “Is that so?”

Marie quickly explained the dilemma, narrowing her eyes at Jordan but was able to stay as calm and professional as possible. I glanced at Professor Brink’s expression and while he looked pleasant, I dreaded his words.

“Well, if Jordan rejected you, that’s final. I trust their judgment,” Professor Brink affirmed. “You can serve as a hero in many ways; Crimefighting is a select group of students who show high aptitude in several areas. That does not mean anyone else is less valuable. Maybe we will see you on Dancing with the Stars one day.”

Marie’s face fell and her body tensed. I might have started crying if I was in her position but her eyes stayed dry. I gently put my hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll figure something out,” I muttered.

She did not look convinced and as I politely followed Brink into his office, I prayed that I would get some sort of helpful premonition. Then again, why did I want to help this girl? I knew her for less than twenty-four hours. Nothing was making sense.

Later that day, I practically ran a hole into my bedroom floor as I ruminated over my next steps. My meeting with Brink was unremarkable and I couldn’t stop thinking about how to get Marie into crim. She was obviously a strong hero in the works, even if Jordan didn’t see it. One way to help would be to get her into a decent house on campus since that was one of the only viable routes outside of making it into the Top 100 to get noticed on campus. However, Marie did not strike me as the sorority type.

Then again, I could help her with donors at fundraisers since they loved throwing their money to make themselves feel better. As I thought, my mind somehow circled back to Jordan. It was fun getting a rise out of them after everything last year. They were not as rude to me as they were to Marie, but they were still terrifying last year. They always had a critique for someone and had reduced numerous kids to tears before the first semester ended. Somehow, I impressed them last year and they started being nicer to me. It probably also did not hurt that I had befriended Cate.

“Ugh, it’s hopeless!” I huffed, plopping onto my bed.

Even when I tried to get premonitions, there was nothing helpful; just Jordan and Marie arguing while I attempted to settle things.

What was this year turning into?

My phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts, and I answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Do you have any rush shit tonight?” Cate asked.

I sat up and eyed her in the video call. “No, all the presidents and VPs are meeting tonight so we’re on our own.”

“Great, so you’re free to go out with us,” Cate concluded with a grin.

My heartbeat picked up at the thought of going out with Cate and the others. Any time I went out with them always ended in an interesting story, from the time Cate got us all out of a really embarrassing ticket to the time Andre and Luke drunkenly dueted “Never Gonna Give You Up” in a Korean karaoke bar.

“I know that face, you’re thinking too much,” Cate warned.

“Not in a bad way, in a good way. Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, just wear something hot and meet us in the parking lot at ten.”

“Okay.”

I hung up and set the phone on my dresser. Maybe this would help me clear my head or get me out of my head. Sometimes the thoughts could be suffocating but I would get a break tonight. I closed my eyes and wondered what would happen tonight. Slowly, clear images of a dark club and the sound of a thumping bass flooded my mind. The club was crowded but I saw myself dancing with Cate and…Marie?

#gen v x reader #jordan li x reader #black!reader #marie moreau x reader #limoreau x reader

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yikesharringrove · 8 months ago

Text

He doesn't talk anymore.

It was a jarring switch, and everyone still isn't used to Steve's persistent silence.

Because before, he was nearly as chatty as Dustin. Always trying to make the kids laugh, yelling at them and calling them shitheads (albeit lovingly).

He doesn't even laugh anymore.

His windpipe had been badly crushed by the demobat's tail wrapped snugly around his neck.

He had needed surgery.

Surgery that had only added to the lacerations and the keloid scars around on his neck.

And really, it's not that he can't talk.

He couldn't for awhile, and it still hurts sometimes.

But he doesn't fucking want to.

He has nothing left to say.

Because he had made peace with death.

Several times, actually. Throwing the burning bottles, being choked in a dried-out lake by a creature straight from his nightmares.

In fact, he had been mostly ready to venture into the sweet beyond since last summer.

His leg shook under the table, and he was staring at the silver ring on his thumb, spinning it around, and around.

He didn't really like when Robin left him alone at their donation table, she was much better at talking to the people that stopped by, bringing more clothes they didn't need, or coming to pick up something to replace what's been lost.

But Robin was doing her best to move on. Chatting up Vickie in some corner, somewhere.

A small cough got Steve's attention.

It was Susan. Hargrove. Mayfield? Did she go back to her previous name after her abusive husband left her with the corpse of his son?

"I found another box. I guess Maxine had been-" her eyes welled up, and Steve's hands stopped spinning the ring around his thumb. "Well, I think she kept some things of his."

Steve's hands shook as he stood up.

He knew Billy and Max had been much closer than they let on.

He knew Max missed Billy more than she could really express.

He opened the box.

Right on top.

It was that fucking jacket.

The brown leather one. The one that was older and softer, more worn than anything else Billy owned.

Because he loved it. Because he took care of it. Because it was his favorite.

And something in Steve broke a little, and he raised the jacket to his face, and he breathed in deeply. He didn't care who saw. He didn't care that Susan's face had gone pale and her tears had started falling for real.

"Oh."

He barely heard her voice over the blood rushing in his ears, the smell and the memories and don't fucking cry, Steven!

Susan closed the box up carefully. Steve finally lowered the jacket.

"I can put this in your car. So you can keep them. You deserve to-" she glanced down at his hands, and the silver ring, tarnished and glinting on his thumb. "keep them."

Steve brought his hand up to his wobbling chin, touching his fingertips gently under his lip, bringing his hand back down, palm up.

Thank you.

He hoped she got it. Understood the way she understood his tears.

She took his hand briefly.

"I wish we had met differently. I wish-well. I'm sure you wish the same thing."

Steve nodded. His leg had started shaking again, making his whole body tremble. He felt unsteady on his feet.

He fished his keys out of his pocket, handing them to Susan so she could take the box and tuck it in his trunk.

"You take care, then. You, you remember him well."

Steve nodded again, hot tears dripping off his chin.

Yes, ma'am. He wanted to say. I'll never forget him.

But,

he doesn't talk anymore.

#oooh this wasn't supposed to be this sad but idk i guess this is whats happening #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #yikes writes

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pulisicsgirl · 2 years ago

Text

caring for you - mason mount

summary: following Mason's surgery, Y/N does everything in her power to take care of him and keep him comfortable, and his parents take note

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: brief mentions of surgery and medicine, PDA in front of parents, fluff

requested: yes!! here

notes: I'm back (for now)!! I'm about to start finals week, so hopefully I'll have more time to write once I've made it back home! I received this request a while ago, and I was thinking about writing something about taking care of Mason after his procedure last week, so I figured I'd combine the two! Hope you like it!

Also I feel like this started out really strong and the end is absolute garbage, so I'm very sorry about that

Since the moment the two of you had arrived at home from the hospital, you hadn’t let Mason leave his spot in the corner of the ‘L-shaped’ couch. As soon as you walked through the door, you had (gently) pushed him down onto the soft cushion, tucking a soft blanket over his legs. It was only a few minutes before you had a bottle of water and a couple of snacks by his side in case he needed them.

The surgery had been relatively minor, all things considered. It was an outpatient procedure, scheduled for the early hours of the day. So by the time it reached the late afternoon, the doctor had discharged Mason, instructing him to take it easy for the next couple of weeks to avoid agitating the incisions before easing back into his regular training regimen. The doctor had informed you that everything had gone very well and there should be nothing to be concerned about.

So of course, you were very concerned, just a ball of anxiety, making sure that Mason didn’t lift a finger for the rest of the day.

Mason had been pretty tired once the two of you had arrived home, so you left him to nap on the couch while you tidied up the rest of the house. Mason’s parents were making the drive up from Portsmouth to spend the evening in London. Mason hadn’t been able to see them in a while and took advantage of the free days he would have following his operation to invite them to spend some time with him (and you).

Part of you had been worried that Mason would be too exhausted after the early morning he’d had and the surgery to visit with them. But you also knew that, like you, Debbie would be worried about Mason following the procedure, and just being able to see him would do wonders to calm her nerves.

So as Mason took a well-deserved nap, you moved about the house, sweeping the floors, wiping down the counters, and making sure that everything had been put in its proper place. You washed the dishes that had accumulated in the sink over the last couple of days and put them away. You were sure to pass through the living room every few minutes to make sure Mason was still sleeping peacefully. You felt a warmth spread through your chest each time you checked on him, the blanket tucked up under his chin and a slight pout on his lips as his face was smushed into the pillow.

It came time for Mason to take the next dose of one of the medications the doctor had sent home with him, and he had just begun to stir from his nap as you sat down on the couch by his head. You reach out, threading your fingers through his hair as he began to blink his eyes open, humming at your gentle touch.

“How you feeling?” you spoke softly to him.

“ ‘m good,” he mumbled, a grin on his face as he looked up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

You returned his smile. “Good. Well, it’s time for you to take your medicine.”

He sat up slowly, grunting with the effort, which instantly put you on edge, worried that he was in pain. He must have noticed the look on your face when he looked over at you.

“I’m fine. I promise,” he moved himself up on the couch so that he was sitting next to you. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, gingerly leaning over to kiss you on the forehead. “Stop worrying yourself so much.”

You smiled sheepishly at him, feeling a little silly for how worked up you had been the whole day, but you couldn’t really help it. You would truly do anything for Mason, and the thought of him in pain was something you never wanted to even consider.

“Your parents should be here any minute,” you informed him once he had swallowed the pills. “Dinner is almost ready, so we should be ready to eat as soon as they arrive. Are you feeling hungry?”

“Of course. Especially if it’s your cooking.”

“Oh, shut up, you.” He laughed at your deflection, knowing that you had no clue how to accept a complement. Even so, he delighted in giving them to you often, watching your cheeks flush red and your eyes dart to the ground.

It was only a few minutes before you heard the knock on the front door, knowing it could only be Debbie and Tony. You gave Mason a quick kiss, instructing him not to move from the couch as you walk to the door. You opened it, greeting his parents as they both pulled you into warm hugs. You had met Mason’s family several times before, but your relationship with them was still new enough that you felt nervous any time they came around. You felt as though you needed to somehow prove to them that you were worthy of their son’s love, despite Mason’s constant reassurance that it was unnecessary, insisting that they already loved you. You still tried your best, though, making sure that everything was perfect at the house before they came over.

You led them to the living room so that they could greet their son and told them you’d be in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the food you had prepared. You caught Mason’s eye before you turned away, and he flashed a quick grin at you.

You were dishing the food into bowls when Debbie entered the kitchen, a kind smile on her face as she offered your help. You informed her that you were nearly done, but she could help with carrying the dishes to the boys.

“He seems like he’s doing well,” she said.

You nodded in agreement. “I think so. He hasn’t told me he’s had any pain since we got home, and I just gave him another dose of the pain medicine that the doctor sent home with us before you got here. Though you and I both know that he probably wouldn’t say anything even if he was in pain.”

The two of you shared a laugh over the stubborn boy that was dear to both of your hearts.

“How are you doing?” she asked suddenly.

“M-me?” Her question caught you off-guard as you dished food into the fourth and final bowl, and you looked up at her. Her lips were drawn together in a tight line as she examined your face.

“Yes, you. I know you well enough to know you’ve been running yourself ragged all day to keep him comfortable.”

“Oh,” you breathed, a warm feeling spreading through your chest at her motherly concern. It meant more to you than she realized that she would express that kind of affection for you. “Y-yeah, I’m alright. He’s a pretty good patient, so he makes my job easy.” You pressed a smile to your face despite the emotions you felt welling up inside you.

You handed Debbie the bowls containing food for Tony and herself and let her know you’d be in the living room in a moment. She walked out of the kitchen, and you lingered behind for just a moment, dabbing the tears from the corners of your eyes in an attempt to keep your mascara from running.

Just that simple question from Mason’s mother was so important to you. Knowing that she approved of your relationship with her son and saw how much you wanted to take care of him—it did wonders to calm your nerves surrounding your relationship with her and Tony.

Once you had collected yourself, you picked up the two remaining bowls and met Mason, Tony, and Debbie in the living room. You had decided that it would be best for the four of you to eat on the couch so that Mason could remain comfortable, and you could all continue to visit together.

Plus, you knew Mason and his father really wanted to continue watching the football match that had started a mere 20 minutes ago.

As you approached Mason, he gently swung his legs off of the couch cushion, patting the space where his legs had just been to signal for you to sit down. You did so carefully, still holding both bowls of food and he placed his legs across your lap, draping the blanket back over both of your legs. You were a little taken back by the display of affection in front of his parents but brushed it off as you handed the bowl to him.

He gave you a curious look, brows slightly furrowed, as he noticed the misty look in your eyes. You just replied with a slight shake of your head, a signal that the two of you would talk later.

You eagerly watched Mason and your two guests as they took the first bite of their food. It was one of Debbie’s recipes and you hoped desperately that you hadn’t let them down with the dish. As soon as you knew Mason had a surgery coming up, you had texted Debbie asking for the recipe for his favorite meal of hers, wanting to spoil him after the procedure.

Debbie and Tony both smiled, humming in appreciation as they got their first taste, and Tony remarked how good it was. Mason, ever the dramatic one, let out a groan, dropping his head onto the back of the couch, using words like “incredible” and “scrumptious” as he voiced his gratitude for the meal. He merely grinned at the way you rolled your eyes at him while your cheeks flushed red.

By the time the halftime show was wrapping up, you were collecting everyone’s dishes and carrying them into the kitchen to tidy up. Debbie appeared moments later, pushing you back into the living room and insisting that it was “the least I could do” to clean up your kitchen. You hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in.

You walked around behind the couch, threading your fingers through Mason’s hair to get his attention, He dropped his head back, eyes gazing up at you lovingly.

“Do you need anything?” you asked as you scratch his scalp lightly with your nails.

“Hmm,” he pretended to think for a moment before tapping his lips with his index finger. “Just a kiss.”

You laughed at him, leaning down as you held your hair out of the way so it wouldn’t get in Mason’s face. You pressed your lips to his gently, expecting to give him a quick peck. But Mason seemed to have other ideas, holding your face to his for a few seconds with a hand that had reached to the back of your head.

He let you pull back after a moment, and you gazed down at his upside-down face, adorning a lovestruck grin. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him today, but something had gotten him in a touchy and lovey mood.

“Anything else?” you whispered, caught slightly off-guard by his actions. Mason just shook his head, gesturing for you to come back to sit on the couch with him, and you resumed your position under his legs.

As you watched the football game, you did your best to keep up with Mason and Tony as they talked over the strategies of the teams and the technique of the players on the screen. The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you, and you felt your eyes slip closed, your head falling forward just slightly before you jolted awake.

Noticing this, Mason pulled you into his side and intertwined his legs with yours. Your head rested on his shoulder as he leaned back on the cushions, shuffling down slightly so that your neck wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Too tired to protest the PDA in front of his dad, you draped your arm over his stomach and quickly fell back asleep in the comfort of Mason’s arms. He ran the tips of his fingers over the skin of your arm, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head every couple of minutes as he listened to your steady breathing.

A knowing smile took over Debbie’s face as she re-entered the living room after finishing up in the kitchen.

“She’s a keeper, that one,” she pointed to your sleeping form. Your cheek was pressed firmly to Mason’s chest, causing a slight pout to form on your lips.

He looked down at your face, a smile spread across his lips. “She’s just amazing,” he replied earnestly. “She’s so selfless and hardworking, always taking care of me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her today.” He looked back up at his parents, holding you a little tighter. “I’m… really happy with her.”

Debbie and Tony smiled back at him, happy to see their son in a healthy and successful relationship.

“People like her are hard to come by,” Tony remarked. “You better do everything you can to keep her around.”

“Oh definitely,” Mason grinned, looking back to the football match on the TV screen. “At this point, if she leaves me, I’m going with her.”

tag list: @masonspulisic @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fics #footballer fics #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football imagine #football fics #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount angst #mason mount blurb #chelsea fc

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milflewis · 7 months ago

Note

ok but mob au

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on.

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

#listen. i entertain myself #sewis #yukierre #makkinen #five head cannon ask game #kyle tag #niamh.asks #flash fic

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