#if they have to give me anaesthetic again i’m going to end up on the news though. good god i fucking hate it

[fingertipsmp3]

Another thing that’s happening is I keep getting really bad pain and sensitivity in my tooth where I just recently got a filling and I know the dentist will fix it for free (they pretty much fucked it up after all) but I so badly don’t want to go back there again

[errythinisblue]

I’m so so sorry I kept you waiting for so long! 💓But finally your requests are here (I hope you won’t mind I put them together 🙈)

Babying a boyfriend.

Mason Mount x Y/N

Summary: Taking care of a needy boyfriend can be tough, especially if said boyfriend is a needy Mason Mount.

Warnings: SMUT (near the end)

gif credits to @masonmiamor

“Baaaabe!” the muffled voice of your whiny boyfriend called you, for the millionth time in barely five minutes. “Baaaabe c’mere I miss you so so so much!”

You rolled your eyes as your lips curled up in a smile, as you finished cutting the vegetables you’d need to make soup for dinner. You cleaned your hands on a towel while you walked to the sofa, where you found Mason sprawled on its soft cushions.

“What is it that you want now?” you giggled as you spoke to him, staring at his sleepy face. You took a step closer to him, sweetly caressing his hair and running your nails on his scalp making him groan.

“Cuddles.” he stated, still partially under the anaesthesia effect, “I want cuddles. Aaaand, I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to stay here doing nothing without you.” he almost slurred as he wrapped his arms around your legs, pushing his face in the middle of your thighs and groaning again from the discomfort in his face.

“Mase don’t!” you scolded him, making him whine again as you gently escaped his hold, “I don’t want you to get hurt, so just stay still please!”

“But I want you here!”

“I just left you alone for five minutes!” you giggled again as you saw Mason’s pouty lips and his frown, “I have dinner to cook, what are you gonna eat if you don’t let me go??”

“No! No!” the slight panic in his voice made you laugh out loud this time, “I don’t want to let you go! I- We can order something from Five Guys! I still want that cheeseburger.” he turned serious all of a sudden, a clear sign that the anaesthetic was wearing off.

“You can’t have a cheeseburger babe,” you shook your head, “not when you just removed your wisdom teeth.”

“I can and I will.” he frowned again, crossing his arms on his chest and defying you with all his stubbornness.

“No you won’t,” you kneeled in front of him, feeling as if you were trying to bargain with a moody toddler, “listen to me, will you?”

“No.” his pout turned deeper, before he side eyed you, relaxing his features, “Maybe.” he muttered as he touched his cheeks with his hands, wincing.

“Do you need some more ice?” you asked him, touching his leg, “Are you in pain?”

“I can’t stand to feel like this anymore!” he whined, his glossy eyes tearing at your heartstrings.

“Okay, listen, I’m gonna bring you some more ice for the pain, you just stay put and wait for me,” you softly spoke to him as your fingers draw figures on his forehead and between his eyebrows, “I’m gonna finish making soup and I’ll be back and give you all the cuddles in the world okay?”

“But I don’t want to eat soup!”

“I know baby,” you looked in his droopy eyes, “but do you remember what the doctor told you?”

“Only liquid food is allowed.” You and Mason said as one.

“Yeah baby, only liquid food,” you nodded your head at him, a soft smile gracing your lips as you looked at your boyfriend, “but it won’t be for too long okay? I promise you.”

“Can I help you make soup?”

“You should rest Mase,” your finger now touching his nose, “I’ll think about dinner.”

“Ugh but I wanna be close to you!”

“You can do all you want to me once I’m done I promise you,” you squeezed his thighs, getting back up from your knees and placing a soft kiss on his lips, “now rest!”

“All I want?? Really??” he raised his voice to make sure you heard him from the kitchen.

“Yeah babe!” you chuckled, as you whispered to yourself ‘You’ll probably be asleep as soon as your head touches the pillow anyway’.

-

“Thanks for cooking dinner babe,” Mason told you, the effects of the anaesthesia completely worn off by the time he had dinner, “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time.”

“You didn’t give me a hard time Mase,” you shrugged, “well, not that much!”

“Looks like I’ll have to cuddle you to repay you,” your boyfriend smirked, slightly wincing for the pain that he still felt in his face, “it’s the least I can do.” he said as he opened his arms to welcome you in his embrace.

“You don’t owe me anything, I love taking care of you,” you sighed as your head found its rest on his chest, “especially if I get free hugs in return!”

“You get free hugs and I get you all to myself,” he whispered in your ear, “I don’t really know who’s the luckiest one between us.”

“I am the lucky one baby, you were so cute all whiny and clingy!” you dreamily said, an awww sound escaping your lips as you thought about the afternoon you had to spend babying your man.

“Shall I remind you that I can make you a whiny mess too?” he breathed in your ear, earning a gasp from you.

“Don’t you even think about it!”

“Okay okay,” he chuckled breathily, “but it was you who told me, and I quote ‘You can do all you want to me once I’m done’, you even promised!”

“I didn’t mean that in a dirty way you perv!”

“You can’t blame me,” Mason shrugged, “when you say things like that I can’t really stop my mind from wandering…”

“Well you should,” you sighed as you got up from your spot on the sofa, “you have to rest and recover.”

“Where are you going now??” the whiny tone in his voice was back, making you laugh once again.

“I’m just gonna take a glass of water from the kitchen babe!”

“Are you thirsty??” he smirked, as he eyed you up and down.

“Mase stop it!” you warned him, pointing your finger at him.

“I was just asking.” he said as he licked his lips.

“And why were you so curious??”

“Because,” he said as he got up, coming to stand in front of you, “I might help with something…”

You laughed as you watched him wiggle his eyebrows in a suggestive way; Mason laughed with you, looking down at your beautiful lips as he caressed your face.

“You’re so beautiful baby,” he whispered, “I’m so lucky- ow-”

“Hey what’s wrong??” you asked him, afraid he might be in pain.

“My head is spinning, it’s better if I sit down…”

“Come on, I’ll help you,” you said, focusing on him, “better now?” you asked him, straddling his lap as you touched his hair.

“So much better,” he smirked, gently stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Did you just trick me??”

“Maybe I did,” he smiled, “but this fucking anaesthetic is making me feel so weak yet so horny at the same time! You look so irresistible right now!”

“Just right now?”

“You know it’s not like that.” he stated, “My attraction to you feels just stronger tonight.”

His hands went under the hoodie you were wearing, his hoodie, travelling from your stomach up to your boobs.

“Oh God your boobs are sooo perfect!” he groaned, “So, so perfect!”

“You like them?” you smirked, clearly feeling his arousal grow beneath you.

“I love them,” he rasped, “how I’d like to push my face in-”

“Mason!”

“I told you I’m horny!” he whined loudly.

“Yeah and with no filter still!”

“It’s not my fault you’re making things hard for me!” he shrugged, trying to bite his lip without feeling any pain, “Well you’re technically making me extremely hard by sitting on top of me but-”

“Okay okay! Enough!” you laughed as you stood from his lap, “I don’t want to make things more uncomfortable for you.” you said, suddenly feeling hot.

“Well, help me out then…” he suggested.

“Help you out?” you bit your lip, unable to admit that the feeling of his erection under you didn’t affect you in any way.

He just nodded; his eyes bore into yours, shining with both exhaustion and desire, the look in those dark brown pools making it impossible for you to resist him. While you kneeled in front of him, Mason parted his thighs slowly, making room for you as you crawled in between them; his breath got stuck in his throat while your hands untied his joggers, setting his cock free of any restraints.

“You keep taking care of me so well baby,” his tired smirk made you more aroused in an instant, “look at you, on your knees for me.”

“You like that don’t you?” you bit your lip as you stroked his cock.

“I like that very much.” he nodded, with his hooded eyes and his lips parted.

“Just promise me one thing,” you breathed against his lips, “if it becomes too much you stop me okay?”

“Okay baby…”

“Now just relax,” you mused, “I’ll take care of your needs…” you whispered against the sensitive skin of his dick, before you took him in your mouth.

“Jesus babe, you’re so good at this, fuck…” he groaned, his head spinning for real this time, and for a better reason.

The deep rhythm of his breathing, the sudden jerks of his hips, his soft moans and the cursing, were clear signals that Mason was indeed enjoying your attention, and all those signals only spurred you on.

You guided his dick further into your mouth, keeping a firm yet soft hold around its base as your head bobbed up and down. As Mason’s hand touched the back of your head, his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag around it.

“Oh fuuuck babe!” he whimpered, short of breath, “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer babe…”

You didn’t waste any time with words, you just gazed up at him; and when your eyes met his, Mason’s rolled in the back of his head at the sight.

“God, babe keep going please,” he urged, “don’t stop, I-I’m cumming!” he stuttered, as you could feel him twitching between your lips as his cum coated your throat.

“Are you still horny now?” you teased him while you rested your cheek on his thigh, watching as he tucked himself back into his underwear.

“Don’t tease me, you know I’m always horny,” he smirked, “but I have to say, I’m just really sleepy right now.”

“Let’s go to bed then.” you sighed as you stood back on your feet, offering him your hands to help him stand.

“You won’t leave me alone this time, right?” he pouted jokingly.

“I won’t, I swear!” you chuckled, as you walked him to your shared bedroom, “Uh uh, undress yourself first mister! I don’t want you sleeping in my bed with your clothes on!”

“Yeah, that’s just another excuse to get me naked!” he giggled sleepily, as he tried to remove his clothes, almost losing his balance in the meantime.

“Can’t you just sit while you undress yourself??” you told him off.

“Okay okay!” he raised his hands, listening to your words as he sat on his side of the bed, “But can you do me a favor babe?”

“What is it?” you asked him from the bathroom, coming out of it as you were still applying some night moisturiser on your face.

“Can you grab me a t-shirt to sleep in?” he asked you as he removed his hoodie, sticking with just his underwear on.

He was already rubbing his sleepy eyes by the time you walked back from the walk-in closet, and that sight made you smile.

“Come on, arms up!” you said as you smiled fondly at him.

“Yes ma’am!” he yawned, lifting his arms up for you to help him put the shirt on.

“Lay down now,” you whispered, holding the covers up for him, “I’ll be back soon baby.” you told him as you covered his body, kissing his forehead as you did so.

“Where are you going?” he sleepily mumbled.

“I just have to brush my teeth and I’ll be back,” you reassured him, “it won’t take long.”

“I’ll wait for you…”

“Okay baby.” you smirked to yourself, knowing full well he would be out like a light in a second.

And you weren’t wrong, his eyes closed and sleep found him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

[lonelynpc]

The Batfam as Medical Specialties

bruce wayne is an anaesthetist: you might say, “but, lonelynpc, bruce wayne would be a paediatrician,” to which i would say, "no". this man can pay attention to 1000 things at once. he’s writing in the anaesthetic record while listening to the monitors, singing his favourite song and listening out for close. he knows exactly what the patient's heart rate, sats, etc are from sound alone. he can recognise the most minute changes in the monitor’s sounds and will know exactly what it is that’s dropping or increasing without looking up. if he's standing up, you know there's something to be worried about. (brings cakes in from alfred for his team every day, don't @ me)

dick grayson is a trauma surgeon: this is because i am afraid of him and i am afraid of trauma surgeons. he’s terrifying and he works fast. he's an inexpressible comfort to people in his care, he regularly gets flowers or chocolates from families and patients. he’s lovely outside of work but at work, jfc can you stop glaring at me over the drapes? (also treats his entire team to dinner at the end of every month)

jason todd is a paediatric surgeon: i don’t wanna hear it. he definitely pimps his students, interns and residents for sport but the second he’s around his patients? he's "doctor jay". he’s got stickers in every pocket, fun scrub caps, a dragon stephoscope cover, a jelly finger monster on the end of his penlight and an endless supply of teddy bear tegaderms. he's got toy stephoscopes and teddy bears in his pockets at all times to give to the kids. he puts a bandage, wristband, hospital gown, mask and hairnet on patient's toys before they wake up as well.

barbara gordon is a cardiothoracic surgeon: she’s serious, intimidating and calculating. people look at her and wither. she’s yelling at interns for talking, pimping her med students about everything including her surgical playlist. you get a question wrong? “do some research. i’ll ask you again when i see you next,” and she will not forget so you better do that research. she's strict with patients because she cares and gets so excited when she sees/hears improvement.

tim drake is a radiologist: he’s glued to that damn screen and pounding back black coffee. he’s seeing the problem before you even know there is one. “oh, you don’t see that tiny hairline fracture with your novice eyes? you're pathetic, get out of my way. i’m getting you an ophthalmology consult.”

stephanie brown is an orthopedic surgeon: she’s a jock. i can’t explain it. she is a jock. she’s blasting the most absurdly mixed playlist, singing along and wearing her space suit and lead. she's fun and can tell you the exact injury and the severity just by hearing the mechanism of injury. no filter though smh, she'll tell her intern that they should get their back looked at after seeing their posture.

duke thomas is a neurosurgeon: can’t explain it but he is. he’s got the lights out and that headlamp on, nobody talk to him, he’s Looking™, did somebody breathe? who did that? own up so i can kick you out, you should be ashamed of yourself and your family.

cassandra cain is a general practitioner: i think she’d love being a general practitioner (family medicine). she’d like having regular patients, she'd like the variety and the payoff. alternatively, i'd say she'd like pallative care and providing comfort in end-of-life care.

damian wayne is an ob/gyn: look, let’s be real, he’s probably a vet but in human medicine? ob/gyn. he chews out residents but he also chews out partners in the room for being annoying during delivery. he has a chaperone with him 24/7 and will kick all non-essential personnel out of the room during an exam. also has mastered the old "oh, could you go sign the discharge forms at reception?" to get a partner out of the room so he can ask if the patient is safe going home.

[rabbittf2x]

Mercs + Miss Pauling with a reader who is waking up from anesthesia? Reader is super chill and says something stupidly funny then gets too emotional about it. they probably also try and get out of bed a few times (Purely platonic)

Mercs and Miss Pauling with a Reader waking up from anaesthesia

Pyro💖

Pyro didn’t care what Medic said. He was in that operating room with you until the very end. He was so worried that you wouldn’t pull through, and couldn’t stop himself from crying a little. So when you finally woke up from the anaesthesia, he was overcome with joyful relief

From the moment your eyes groggily cracked open, Pyro was hovering over you. He was mumbling under his mask a million miles a minute, extremely excited to see your smile again

“Hey, Pyro. What’s going on, buddy?” You cooed tiredly

Pyro clapped his hands happily, before grabbing ahold of one of your own and giving it a firm squeeze. The action tugged at your heartstrings, making you emotional

“I’m so happy you’re here with me.” You whispered

He tilted his head, moving your hand up to his masked cheek, and then nuzzling into it. You instantly bursted into tears, startling Pyro. He gave muffled words of concern and comfort, wiping away at your tearstained cheeks

You couldn’t help but laugh through your sobs, shaking your head amusingly. “I’m okay.” You stammered. “I just love you so much.”

Pyro was your guard dog for the next few days in the infirmary. He spent most of his free time with you, which you really appreciated. He was there to make you laugh, and also a good shoulder to cry on!

There were moments where you tried to get out of bed, but Pyro was there to guide you back down. He didn’t like having to tell you you had to stay in all day, and wanted nothing more for you to come out and play! But deep down, he knew it was for the best

Engineer💖

As soon as you woke up from your operation, Engie was there to greet you. “Hey there, sleeping beauty. How’re ya feeling?” He asked with a gentle smile

You smiled back, slowly blinking as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. “Hey, Engie. I’m good. How are you?” You croaked

The Engineer chuckled, reaching down to stroke some hair away from your face. “I’m doing just fine, sweet pea. You just rest up now, alright?” He cooed

The anaesthetic made you feel exhausted, mixing up your emotions. You gave Engie a pout, tears pricking your eyes. You were just so thankful to have him <3

“Okay, Engie.” You whispered tearfully. Although Engineer was wearing goggles, you could tell he was giving you a worried look. “I love you.” You added

Engie was relieved that your tears were happy, his shoulders relaxing. He wheezed out a small chuckle again, shaking his head at your innocence

“I love ya too, sweetheart. I’ll be back to check up on ya later, alright?”

Spy💖

Spy would never tell anyone, but while you were under anaesthesia, he checked up on you a lot. He was very worried about you. He was so happy to see your pretty eyes when you finally woke up from your operation

“Heya, Spy…” you smiled weakly up at the man

Spy was the first thing your blurry vision focused on as you regained consciousness. A sympathetic smile of his own slowly crept across his masked face

“Hello.” He whispered back

Spy was very proud of how well you coped with your operation. Though drowsy from anaesthesia, you still cracked jokes and made light of your situation. You never failed to make him laugh. Especially at the times where he really didn’t want to

You could break Spy’s heart too though. After awhile of just being stuck in bed, a wave of sadness washed over you. You kept trying to get up, making Spy unwillingly force you back down

“But I gotta pee.” You whined, staring up at him with big teary eyes

You really knew how to tug at Spy’s heartstrings. It took every fibre of his being to tell you you unfortunately had to stay in all day

Heavy💖

As Medic operated on you, Heavy waited outside. Medic offered him to come in and observe, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Seeing you under anaesthesia, cut open and bleeding… it was too much for his big heart to take

When Medic was finished with the procedure, Heavy still waited. This time he was in the room with you, sitting in a little chair by your side. He sad there with a big frown, not moving an inch as he watched you sleep

Heavy waited and waited until you finally awakened. Just as he was about to drift off himself, he was startled awake by you looking straight at him

“Misha…” you murmured

Heavy said back your own name quietly, giving you a small smirk. “Is good to see you.” He added

A pained smile slowly crept across your own face. “It’s good to see you too.” You croaked

Heavy had been quietly stressing about you to himself for hours. When he said it was good to see you, he really, really meant it

“Thank you for being here for me. I really appreciate it.” You whispered tearfully

Heavy’s unusually soft expression was laced with a bit of concern. He didn’t like seeing you cry, but it was obvious you were getting emotional

“We are team. I will always be there for you.” Heavy replied

Sniper💖

Sniper came to visit you in the infirmary a little after your operation. You were still loopy and groggy from the anaesthesia, but you took it like a champ

“Oh! Hey, Sniper.” You greeted as he entered the infirmary. Though sore, you peeled the blanket off your legs and shakily tried to stand

“Hang on, mate!” Sniper exclaimed. He rushed over to your side, gently guiding you back down. “I don’t reckon you should be standing up for awhile. Doctor’s orders.”

You shook your head with a giggle. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.” You said softly

You attempted to stand again, holding onto Sniper’s arm for support. You didn’t last long, your legs wobbling and giving out. You stumbled against Sniper’s chest, and he caught you in his arms

“Whoa! Ya right, mate?” Sniper asked, wrapping himself around you almost in an embrace

“Yeah… maybe I should lay down for awhile.”

Sniper enjoyed unwinding with you as you rested up. You were very sleepy, but you really appreciated him just being there for you

Scout💖

Scout was more than eager to visit you after your operation. As soon as Medic gave him the green light, he was rushing through the infirmary doors and greeting you with a big smile

“Hey there, slugger! Looking better already!”

You were startled by Scout’s booming voice, as you had just woken up from being under anaesthesia. But a tired smile met your pained features at the sight of the young man

“Oh… hey, Scout. Thanks, buddy. I feel better too.” You croaked

Scout’s blue eyes lit up with joy. “Really?” He asked hopefully

You pouted, tears welling up in your own eyes. “No…” you whimpered

His face instantly fell as you began to cry into your hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, hey! Don’t cry! It’s—it’ll be alright.” He panicked. Scout rushed to your side, placing a bandaged hand on your shoulder. “You’re okay! You—you look great! Don’t be sad.” He pet your shoulder nervously, and you wiped away stray tears

“I’m sorry, Scout.” You sobbed

Scout sat next to you on the edge of the bed, acting like he couldn’t get close enough to you. “You kidding? You ain’t do nothing wrong. You’re fine.” He reassured

After a few tender moments, your tears began to simmer. Without thinking, you leaned your head against Scout’s side. As your tired eyes fluttered shut, a few final tears slipped down your cheeks

Soldier💖

Medic had to rip Soldier away from you when he tried to forcefully shake you awake

“Don’t you die on me, maggot!”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. If you were gonna die, he wanted it to at least be on the battlefield. Soldier really liked you. So much in fact, that he had the possibility of your death all planned out:

Soldier cradled your dying body in his arms. Your belly had been ripped open, your guts and intestines hanging out. His hands were stained red with blood as he desperately tried to shove them all back into your stomach. When your head fell limp on his shoulder, he screamed at the sky until it broke apart

But instead, you were just rotting here in Medic’s lab! How boring? Soldier was not letting you die in such a pitiful way like this

“Soldier, for the last time. They’re not dying! The procedure was successful.” Medic groaned

As if on cue, your eyes slowly cracked open. “Ugh, what happened?” You moaned

Medic and Soldier snapped their attention back to you

“Hooray! You’re not dying!” Soldier beamed

He scooped you up into his arms, hugging you tight even though you were severely fragile. Medic protested, but you told him it was fine. As painful as it was, you still thought Soldier’s affection was amusing

Demoman💖

Demoman was thrilled to hear your operation went well! He wished he could celebrate by having a drink with you, but sadly you were in no shape. He visited you as soon as he heard you were awake, poking his head through the infirmary doors

“Aye, mate. How’re ye feeling?”

A weak smile met your face as you spotted Demo by the door. “Hi, Demo. I’m going alright. Thanks for asking.” You croaked

The Scotsman approached the bed you rested in, sympathy washing over him at the sight of your injured state

“Let us know if ye need anything, alright?”

Even though you just woke up, the anaesthesia made you feel like you had been awake for way too long. It made you overtired and emotional, unintentionally spilling all that onto Demoman

“Oh, you guys are so nice…” you bawled

Demo didn’t know what to do when you started to weep. “Oh… darling, no. It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He stammered

He felt helpless, until he began to vaguely remember what you did for him when he cried. Whenever he was drunkenly bawling his eye out, you were there to wrap your arms around him and whisper sweet nothings

“C’mon, love. It’s alright.”

Demoman sat next to you on the bed, snaking an arm around your shoulder. You hugged his waist, crying into his chest as he tangled a large hand into your hair

Medic💖

Medic was the one that was operating on you. He usually had his patients awake during surgery, and was very careless. But it didn’t feel right with you. He instead put you under anaesthesia so you wouldn’t feel anything

Medic was more than relieved when he completed your operation with no complications. He was very anxious for you to awaken. He had to stifle himself from smiling like a total idiot when your eyes began to crack open

“Medic…?” You wheezed

Medic couldn’t hide his grin any longer at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. “Oh, stupendous! You’re finally awake! How are you feeling?” He beamed

You shifted uncomfortably against the stiff bed. “Eh, been better.” You joked

Medic began to ramble on about your operation, but you were hardly listening. You were still pretty drugged up from the anaesthesia. But as he turned to grab some medication for you, an idea popped into your head. Could you stand?

As Medic turned back to face you, the bottle of meds dropped to the floor. He sputtered your name in a scold, speeding over to where you stood

“No! You are in no shape to be up right now! You must stay here and rest!” He lectured like a parent. Medic immediately regretted his words when he saw your eyes well up with tears. “Oh, no.” He called your name. “No, please don’t c—!”

You bursted into tears, sitting down on the bed as you cried into your hands. “You hate me!” You bawled

Medic held his gloved hands up in a surrender. “Ah—no! No, of course I don’t hate you, dear! Oh, please don’t cry!” As he hugged you close to his chest while bawling your eyes out, he wondered if he drugged you up too much…

Miss Pauling💖

Miss Pauling felt terrible. You were on a mission—under her supervision when you got injured. She lost track of how long she was outside Medic’s door pacing. When he finally opened up, he was shocked to see she was still there waiting for him to finish

“Medic! How are they?” Miss Pauling gasped

Medic opened the door for her, beckoning her to come in. “Why don’t you come see for yourself, Miss Pauling?” He asked politely

The girl rushed in, eager to see you. Relief washed over her at the sight of your sweet little smile. “Hi, Miss Pauling!” You greeted happily

Miss Pauling sighed tearfully, a huge weight lifting off her shoulders to find you were still in one piece. “Gosh, I was so worried about you.” She huffed

“Thanks, Miss P. But I’m okay! Just a little loopy, is all.” You giggled

Your cheery attitude was contagious, yet Miss Pauling still let out a guilty sob. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve had your back.” She cried

The smile ran away from your face, and you felt your own tears coming on. “Oh, god. Miss, don’t cry. When you cry, I cry.” You whimpered

“I’m your supervisor. I should’ve been watching over you.”

Medic had to step out because the pair of you were both just crying. When Miss Pauling sat on the edge of the bed, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders weakly. She instantly leaned into your touch, laying against your chest

“I’m okay.” You breathed, wiping away the tears that ran down your cheeks

Miss Pauling took off her glasses and smushed her face into your chest. “I’m so glad…” she murmured, holding you impossibly closer

[fionajames]

Hiiiiii!!!! I haven’t requested in a hot minute! Anyway, what’s up how’s life?

Request: okay, so I read a fic about this made up mission where Torrent Company was on, they jumped out a high window and Rex and a few others were badly injured and put into a coma or something. Is it possible for me to ask if you could write a little something similar where there’s a dangerous mission and Cody is super worried about Rex because he comes home all broken and barley conscious and it’s like Rex wakes up and is kinda like “why am I here, Cody I’m fine. It’s just six broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken femur” and Cody is all like “Rex, I order you to stay down.” ???

Okay, wow that was long, but is it possible if you could write something similar to it? Pretty please with sprinkles on top?

Thank you so much!!!! Love ur work ❤️-Sha 🫡

three broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken femur

hi sha! thats ok! lifes pretty.... bad? its pretty egh. sorry this took me so long to do, ive been busy :(

sorry if any medical info in this is incorrect! im not a doctor. ive never taken a medical course. im a silly child writing fanfiction.

Rex didn’t remember much from the actually battle, which wasn’t surprising. He remembered the explosion of pain that had filled his body after the building he was in had collapsed, but not much else. He, however, did remember waking up on the Medbay, medics around him rushing to aid him. Kix was beside him, shouting something at someone else, but Rex couldn’t understand what. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing. 

“Kix?” He managed to croak, and the medic turned to him with a horrified and worried expression.

“It’s gonna be fine, Rex, you’re going to be fine,” Kix told him quickly, and although his words were muffled, Rex could still understand him. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Put him under a general anaesthetic!”

Rex wasn’t sure why he required a general anaesthetic like Kix had said, but he didn’t have any more time to think when a needle was inserted into his arm.

-

The next day, Rex was calmly sitting on the Medbay cot, drinking a glass of water. They’d done something to his ribs - he wasn’t sure what, he didn’t want to know - but couldn’t give him a compression wrap as it came with the risk of restricted breathing or even partial lung collapse.

He’d broken a femur as well - that hurt like hell - and had a concussion. The concussion was a numbing, aching throb that he despised. Never again, did he want a concussion.

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Cody, with a rather irritated look on his face. “Rex!” He shouted angrily, strolling to stand next to his brother. “I told you to get out of that building, and look where you ended up!” 

Rex glanced around in confusion, then at himself. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?!” Cody shouted in exasperation, running a hand down his face. Maker, he thought. Skywalker must be rubbing off on him! Well, at least he’s not as bad as General Kenobi. Obi-Wan had returned back to base a few months ago with six broken ribs, a broken arm, broken leg, concussion and wrist fracture. “Look at yourself!”

Rex did as he was told, but still remained confused. “Cody, seriously, I’m fine!” He scoffed. “It’s only three broken ribs, a concussion and a broken femur! That’s not bad!”

Cody looked like he either wanted to punch Rex in the face, or cry.

“You damn fool!” He shouted, sinking to sit on the cot next to his brother, face in his hands. “Rex, you idiot. You could have died!” 

“But I didn’t,” Rex grinned playfully and Cody choked out a frustrated sob. 

“Rex,” he sighed. “Your going to be the death of me.”

“Not if I’m dead first.”

“Don’t say that!” 

“Fine, Cody.”

hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!!!! requests pleasE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

[giordirossi]

@drrutherford:

‘Venmo is easier’. Immediately; “Call me old-fashioned.” ‘Don’t be a dick’. After a beat; “I’m trying to keep you alive... God knows why.” It’s practical, matter-of-fact.

He ignores the weak, diseased patch of sentimentality that’s tempted to go easy on her and reminds himself that it’s a luxury Giordana can neither afford right now, nor one he can truly offer if he means to save her life.

His fingers do fall away from her wound, although it isn’t out of mercy. It’s to prepare the topical anaesthetic; which will provide a modicum of reprieve to the uppermost layer of stitches she’ll need, but almost none for the lacerated tissue underneath. There’s nothing stronger in his toolkit for that; the surgeon’s no anaesthetist, and with the amount of blood Giordana’s already lost, he can’t afford to lower her blood pressure further with more potent pain relief. “You’re gonna feel another sting.”

It’d be easier in an operating theatre, he thinks as he injects the anaesthetic into her skin and pretends he doesn’t notice when she winces. Damn you for making this so unnecessarily difficult. It’s easier to be annoyed with her than it is to feel sorry for her. Not that she’d want it from him anyway... He’s half certain she’d get up and drag her haemorrhaging limb out his front door herself at the first suspicion of anyone’s pity.

Which is why he opts for; “ — You’re a real pain in the arse, you know that?”

Why would she care what it’d ‘look like’ anyway, if he were to heft her to the nearest hospital?... If his colleagues or his family saw him, he’d be the one to hear about it later, not Giordi. And if her people saw them instead, then the consequences faced would once again be his, not the apparent victim of a violent crime.

She’s trying to spare you... No, chronic cynicism rebukes him: trying to spare herself.

It doesn’t matter one way or another as he splashes iodine over the torn tissues of her leg in order to stem any infection, and a strangled sound rises from the back of her throat. ‘Pain is easy,’ Giordana had insisted dismissively, but even if it that’s true for the patient it isn’t for the practitioner as he grits his teeth and forces himself to keep going, pinched layer by pinched layer, agonizing stitch by agonizing stitch.

By the time he’s done repairing the sheets of muscle and fat, sweat’s collected on his brow as if he’s the one being operated on in her stead. “Nearly-... Nearly done...” He swallows, anguished not by the garish sights in front of him, but by every distressing sound she’s trying to bite back, every tremor that runs helplessly through her body as he pokes, prods and impales viscera that have suffered enough damage already. 

The surgeon makes the mistake of glancing up at her before setting to the task of stitching the final, uppermost layer of her skin. A tear rolls quietly down her cheek, eyes still squeezed shut. “Hey,” the Rutherford hums, sparing a hand in order to find the woman’s fingers; giving them a gentle squeeze. “You’re doing great. Worst part’s over, you said it yourself.” He returns to the task, and this time when he swallows, he doesn’t question why it feels like trying to dislodge a rock from his throat.

-

"Maybe He does." Perhaps God could answer the multifaceted question of why either of them bother with such a thing. Why keep one another alive at all? Why hadn't she ended this complication after the very first evening? Why didn't he end it now?

Another unwelcome needle, but surely a necessary one as Gideon injects her with what she can only assume is a possible anesthetic. Or not. Maybe she deserves this. Maybe half the thrill comes from watching the brunette squirm for once, witnessing the minor twists in her expression as nails curl into the fabric of his couch. They'd be strikingly similar in that way.

— You’re a real pain in the arse, you know that?

Her laugh resounds with less ease, almost choked in nature. "So I've heard."

With each excruciatingly slow stitch, her mind bleeds the white fuzz from a broken television. All static, no focus. It's blinding, impossible to escape, and not conducive to her usual brand of dissociation when experiencing such overwhelming sensory input. Nor can she lash out in an effort to quell the discomfort–– not if she wants to keep something else from lacerating. Weakness claws at her throat, fighting valiantly against every effort to choke it down. Don't open your mouth.

In the midst of simply enduring it all, Giordana swears that he's making some futile attempt at reassurance. It can't be; surely the torment has overpowered whatever cognition remains and a visceral hallucination is easier to grasp than her own fragile state.

Only when his palm grounds her back to reality does she understand his intention, even without unclenching her lids to spare him a skeptical sideways glance. Instead, slender fingers return the gesture. Weary and without the strain she'd given his sofa, almost grateful to feel a briefly less clinical touch. Something human.

They're in the final lap now, evident from his tone and more shallow needlework. Her chin nods, but she says nothing for once. No idle chatter, no prodding quip. When tense eyes flutter open to view the ceiling at long last, it's a far more welcome sight than the darkness. Pawing absently at her cheekbone, the presence of moisture doesn't quite dawn on her until Gideon finally sits back to drink in his handiwork and the entire ordeal is just... over.

While not yet relaxed, her jaw loosens a few centimeters to disrupt the quiet hum of their breathing. "Thank you."

[soramei]

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

-

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

-

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

-

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

-

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You’re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

-

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

-

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

[honeyhenry]

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie​ is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours” 

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement. 

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.” 

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him. 

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit. 

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs  to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-” 

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

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[sequinsmile-x]

Concussion

Emily gets hit over the head. Aaron worries.

Based on a prompt from the lovely @ssa-sparks

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries/blood/stitches etc

Read over on Ao3 or below the cut!

It happens so fast.

Emily and JJ go in first at Aaron’s request, aware that there were children on the scene and their presence would startle them less. They clear the first floor of the house, JJ directing the two young boys they find in the living room out of the front door. Emily opens the door to the basement, clearing the way as she walks down the stairs.

As soon as her feet hit the bottom step she is hit in the head, hard, and falls to the ground. She cries out as her vision and hearing briefly go, the pain spreading throughout her skull immediately. She isn’t sure exactly what happens, she can hear the muffled sound of JJ yelling, and the others rushing in. The unsub apprehended by Derek almost immediately, the 2x4 he had used to hit her abandoned on the ground next to her.

Emily closes her eyes to block out the light that suddenly seemed too intense. She smells his cologne before she sees him. Something warm and uniquely Aaron filling her senses. Something that smelt like home. When she reopens her eyes Aaron is there, leaning over her, concern written all over his face.

“Em? Are you hurt? What happened?” He asks, grimacing when he looks at her properly.

“He got the drop on me.” Emily says as she sits up, her eyes briefly going blurry again. Aaron reaches out for her, his hands on her upper arms as he tries to steady her. She puts her hand to her forehead and pulls it back to see blood on her fingers. “Damn it.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, not bothering to cover his concern as he helps her sit up.

“Aaron, calm down. I didn’t even pass out.” She blinks a couple times, wincing as she again puts her hand to her head where she was hit. She shrugs his hands off of her, looking around the room at the local cops surrounding them, annoyed that despite the head injury she was the one who seemed to remember where they were. “I’m fine.”

He ignores her, his worry outweighing his usual ability on picking up on her frustration.

“Do you know where we are? What year is it? Who am I?” He asks in quick succession, dutifully helping her to her feet as she tries to do it herself, not making any comment when she grasps his bicep when she loses her balance.

“If you don’t stop, you won’t be my boyfriend for much longer, that much I can tell you.”

He ignores her again, used to being the one she would take out her frustration on, very rarely rising to the bait.

“The EMTs are outside, we’ll get them to have a look at you.” He says, following her up the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Aaron.”

“Please don’t argue with me on this.” He pleads as they make it to the first floor, his eyes imploring her to just listen to him.

She gently nods her response and walks outside. She’s aware of his hand hovering just behind her lower back, ever ready to support her if she needed it, even if she didn’t want him to. ____________

“Why is it always you that ends up with a head injury?” Aaron asks quietly, his voice gentle as if he is avoiding making her inevitable headache worse.

She was sat up on a gurney, the EMTs having decided she needed to go to hospital to get checked over properly. Aaron was sitting on the edge facing her. Emily winces as he presses the ice pack the nurse had handed him against the gash on her forehead, the cold seeping in and making her head pound. They were waiting for the doctor to see if she needed stitches. The rest of the team were packing up at the precinct, waiting to meet them at the jet, leaving the couple to it.

It was well known that Emily wasn’t a good patient, neither of them were. In the few times one of them, or on one very stressful occasion for Dave both of them, were in need of a hospital check up since they got together they were only placated by each other. Raised eyebrows and vague threats enough to make them listen to the doctors as they were poked and prodded to make sure none of their injuries were permanent.

“I don’t always end up with head injuries, Aaron.” She says through her teeth. Her annoyance at him is lost in translation, the blood that still stained her face and had dripped down onto her chest removing some of its bite.

“Well you get more than the rest of us.” He briefly lifts the ice pack to look at the wound, his breath hitching when he sees it again. A mar on her pale skin, one of his favourite places to kiss her. He tenderly moves some of her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear with such affection she can’t help but smile at him despite her frustration. He puts the ice pack back down on her skin. “It’s like you’re attracted to 2x4s or something.”

“Shut the fuc-”

“Agent Prentiss?”

They both turn to see a doctor standing at the end of the cubicle they were in, an amused look on her face that told them just how much of their exchange she had overheard.

“Let's have a look at this head wound, shall we?”

Aaron moves the ice pack and stands up to give the doctor some room, but stays next to the gurney.

“Oh yeah, definitely stitches.” The doctor says, her gloved fingers pressing gently at Emily’s forehead.

“Seriously?” Emily says, staring at the doctor as she nods. “блять.”

The doctor looks concerned and turns to Aaron, her eyebrow raised.

“That’s normal.” He explains, a small smile on his face. “She always curses in Russian when she’s annoyed. Usually it’s aimed at me.”

“It's the best language to curse in.” Emily explains to the doctor before turning to glare at her boyfriend.

They patiently wait as the doctor sets up the stuff she needs to stitch Emily’s forehead. Aaron grabs her hand when he sees the needle the doctor moves towards her face as she explains it’s a local anaesthetic that will numb some of the pain. Emily raises her eyebrow at him, and mutters something under her breath about how she isn’t a child.

Neither of them acknowledge how tightly she squeezes his hand once the doctor begins. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of Emily’s head and smiles against her hair when she further tightens her grip on him. ____________

Emily was so relieved to get home she could have cried. The noise of the jet had made her head throb harder as the flight went on, the hours dragging on into what felt like days. Aaron had encouraged her to sleep on the journey but she refused, wanting to ensure her paperwork was finished before they landed. The promise of having the following day off getting her through the headache that was made worse by Derek and Spencer’s latest prank war.

She had caught Aaron glaring at them, an admonishment on the tip of his tongue but she had nudged him under the table with her knee before he could, a soft smile on her face as she looked at him adoringly.

Even when he pissed her off she loved him. And that pissed her off even more.

She hated being coddled, and even after all of this time with Aaron she still sometimes found his affection surprising. How easily he’d give it away to her, like it cost him nothing. How he’d buy her candy on the way home just because he walked past the aisle and thought of her. He’d touch her at any given opportunity. A hand brushing over her shoulder or her waist, pressed into her lower back as he guides her through a door. A kiss to her forehead, her cheek.

Ever since the EMT had told them she needed to go to the hospital he had been treating her like she was made of glass and she hated it, hated that he looked so guilty as the doctor had stitched her forehead back together. She knows he needs this, to look after her. Penance for what he deemed to be his fault since it was his decision to send her into the house first. So she lets him hover, with minimal barbs thrown at him so he knows when he is toeing the line between what she deems acceptable and what is too far.

She merely rolls her eyes at him, ignoring how it made her head burn with pain, when he insists on carrying her go-bag for her, but she stops him at opening her car door as he pulls their car up on their driveway. She’s out of the car before he can think about it, an eyebrow raised at him in defiance when he starts to protest.

As soon as the front door closes behind them he sets the alarm and throws their go-bags over the back of the couch. Emily takes off her shoes and coat, closing her eyes as her head swims when she bends forward to put the shoes away. When she’s upright again she knows he’s seen it, his eyes fixed on her.

“Why don’t you head on up sweetheart. I’ll be right up.” He says as he kisses her temple.

“Okay.” Emily replies, not having it in her to argue. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Her nighttime routine goes by in a blur, and if questioned she wasn’t even sure if she would remember completing all of the steps. She turns off the main light, leaving only Aaron’s bedside light on, and climbs in under the covers.

When Aaron enters the room she is almost asleep, shocked awake by the room flooding with light. She groans, pulling the comforter over her head to block out what she can.

“Too bright.” She grumbles, her voice muffled.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turns the light back off and sheds his suit, his jacket over the back of a chair in a corner.

He gets ready for bed and climbs in next to her, a smile on his face as he gently pulls the covers back from her face. He gently runs his thumb over the edge of the large white dressing on her forehead, the spares tucked in his go-bag with instructions from the doctor on when to change it written on his phone.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“Head hurts.” She admits, feeling able to do so now it was just the two of them in the safety of their bedroom, with no prying eyes or concerned glances from the team. Even though so much time had passed since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives, there was always a moment when she was hurt that she would see the panic on her friend’s faces. See them go back to the time they were all told she was dead. It made her want to protect them, claiming she was fine even though her head felt like it had been stamped on.

Aaron was different. There was so much naked honesty in their relationship, so much that could be said without either of them saying a word, that she knew he already knew how she was feeling at any given time.

At one point in her life she would have found it suffocating, the fact that someone could know her that well. When they started their relationship she kept waiting for it to happen, for him to be so good, so righteous, that it would tip her over the edge. Make her self-destruct and take him down with her. But it never came. Now she can’t imagine life without him.

“I know it does, baby.” He answers before kissing her forehead, his lips grazing the edge of the dressing. “Get some sleep.”

“Are you going to let me sleep?” She asks, voice thick with exhaustion as she curls into his side.

“I’m going to follow the doctor's instructions and wake you up every couple hours if that’s what you’re asking.”

“иди на хуй.”

He chuckles into the top of her head. “I’m going to choose to believe that's you saying you love me.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, honey.” ____________

“Em, sweetheart. You’ve got to wake up.” He shakes her slightly and can’t help the relief he feels when she groans.

“What time is it?”

“3am.”

“I hate you so much.” She grumbles before she pulls his arm tighter across her waist, wrapping herself up tighter in his embrace. She moves with a speed that surprises herself and reaches behind her to press her hand over his mouth. “If you even think about asking me what year it is and if I know who you are, I’ll make you sleep in the garden. Concussion or no concussion.”

He smiles against the palm of her hand and kisses it before removing it from his mouth.

“Straight to the garden?”

“The spare room or the couch are for good boyfriends who let me sleep through the night.”

He kisses her temple. “I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I know.” She says, already drifting back off to sleep. “And I love you. But let's go back to sleep.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her temple again. “See you in a couple hours.”

He smiles at, and ignores, the Russian curse words she mutters under her breath and strokes her hair until she falls asleep again.

He doesn’t sleep that night, keeping an eye on her until the sun rises.

When he falls asleep on the couch the following afternoon she purposely wakes him by turning the tv volume all the way up, disregarding the pounding in her own head.

[captain039]

PART 2

We can take care of each other

Hank x reader x Connor

Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst

Previous chapter <-

You awoke slowly and groggily. You grumbled at the light shining in through the small crack in the curtains. You pulled your covers over your head before you heard movement. You frowned body tensing as you slowly stood. You quietly opened your door and peered around. You frowned when you saw Connor before you remember he had stayed the night.

“Sorry detective did I wake you?” You jumped when he spoke.

“No, the sun did” you huffed and yawned as you came out. You sat down at the kitchen table and tried to wake up a bit more.

“Would you like breakfast?” He asked.

“Just give me ten minutes” you answered rubbing your eyes. He sat down in front of you while you stared at the table.

“I’m not a morning person” you said chuckling.

“It’s alright, neither is the lieutenant” Connor smiled and you snorted lightly.

“That I know” you chuckled leaning back and closing your eyes again.

“I’ll make you some breakfast, it’ll wake you up” Connor said as he stood.

“You don’t have to make me breakfast” you chuckled looking to him.

“I just have cereal” you stood and opened your top cupboard. You glanced at the three types and sighed. Connor was behind you probably analysing your cereal.

You froze when a hand touched your naked back. You had worn a singlet that had a low back, your hair thrown up messily and shorts on.

“Connor?” You muttered not daring to face him.

“Detective may I ask a personal question?” He said in a serious tone. You gulped and nodded slowly turning around as his hand slipped.

“Yeah” you whispered looking to him.

“You told me yesterday that you had bonded with Hank” he began and you cursed yourself silently.

“Not a proper bond” you said and he frowned.

“In my head I get a mental bond with people I trust and have been around the longest, it just happens” you shrugged.

“Like my family I guess” you trialed off.

“Am I apart of that family?” He asked head slightly tilted.

“Of course” you said frowning.

“But I have no scent” you frowned again at his words.

“You smell like washed clothes and Connor?” You shrugged.

“Do you like Hanks scent?” His questioned confused you as you tilted your head.

“I do?” You said unsure. His LED whirred a little and he stared ahead at nothing.

“Did something come in?” You asked.

“Chelsey is being admitted to the hospital, she’s calling for you detective” you froze. You rushed to get dressed and quickly grab a piece of bread as breakfast. You looked to Connor who was already dressed and nodded.

At the station you saw the ambulance outside and commotion inside. You pushed past people Connor right behind you. You found her pretty easily, shaking on the floor in the corner, medics around her.

“What happened?” You asked one of the medics.

“She went into an episode, she kept saying Y/n” you nodded as she spotted you.

“Y/n” she said and rushed to you and you froze as she clung to you tightly. You didn’t know what to do, the woman had obviously made you her safe space. You blinked a few times body beginning to shake also.

“Detective” Connor said softly as you gulped.

“Miss Chelsey I need you to let go of the detective” Connor said calmly.

“What’s going on?” You heard Hanks voice.

“Hank” you muttered. Connors hand rested on your shoulder while Hank knelt by you. Chelsey hid as you rested on your knees, she awkwardly laid on you.

“Hey” Hank spoke softly cupping your cheek. Your eyes were blurred a bit as you tried to focus on him. This was a little too much, you never had someone cling to you with this much need and fear, you were the one to do the clinging.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hank had snapped at the medic.

“I don’t know” she said stepping back. He was tense and letting off a worried alpha smell.

“She’s gone into some kind of shock lieutenant” Connor spoke this time.

“I suggest we take her out of here” he added.

“No!” The woman around you cried and you flinched.

“Hank” you mumbled again.

“What is it?” He asked quickly.

“What do you need me to?” He added.

“Hank hold her” Connor spoke.

“What?” The alpha frowned.

“Chelsey isn’t going to let go, but she needs to calm down or they’ll both end up in hospital, please Hank, I cannot do this” Connor spoke almost desperate, his hand on your shoulder tight.

“Jesus” Hank muttered.

“Y/n” you looked to the alpha.

“I’m gonna sit down ok?” He said and you nodded. He sat behind you and you leant back.

“You’re alright” Hank said no doubt glaring at anyone who looked at him.

You began to calm down, things cleared and your mind wasn’t so fuzzy anymore.

“Chelsey” you said softly and she looked up.

“We need to get you to a hospital” you whispered and she nodded.

“I need help” you glanced back to Hank.

“Yep” he stood with a grunt and helped you up with the girl clinging to you. You turned to Connor who had a worried look, eyes glancing you up and down. You gave him a small nod and slowly walked out the police station and into the ambulance with Chelsey.

After she was admitted she got put under anaesthetics to calm her down and give her some rest. You were still off as you left Connor and Hank had waited outside for you. You felt wrong almost the feeling she gave you, you don’t know why. You couldn’t take care of her, you didn’t know how to.

“I can’t help her” you said softly.

“I can’t take care of myself how am I supposed to support and help her!” You shouted slightly before leaning against the car.

“Hey, nobody’s forcing you to take care of her ok?” Hank said.

“The hospital and the department will deal with her” he added.

“Detective” Connor said as you stared at the ground.

“I can’t-“ you lifted your hands seeing them shaking. It was like old memories were being brought up, past trauma. You had issues with alphas in the past, you were easily submissive and pushed around, you couldn’t defend yourself. In school it was worse, despite being able to go to a special school with limited people they were still around. You always sought guidance and wanted someone to hold your hand even when you were teenager. You hated feeling alone and not able to do anything by yourself.

“Lieutenant I think we should take the detective home” Connor said.

“Yeah” Hank helped you into the front seat. You sat staring out the window till you pulled up to his house.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked confused.

“She needs someone Con” he sighed getting out.

They both helped you into the house and you sat on the couch. Hank gave you a blanket and Sumo jumped up and rested on your lap.

You felt eyes on you while you tried to redirect your mind, almost like you were malfunctioning.

“I think she’s malfunctioning” Connor said.

“Connor she isn’t a fucking robot” Hank sighed.

“No, but she’s trying to reprogram her thoughts” Connor could read you easily and you were thankful for it. You were in a sense trying to reprogram yourself you guess, back to your normal self.

“Well I ain’t leaving her till she’s good again” Hank said finale and sat down on his single seater.

“Sit down Connor” Hank sighed and he did. Connor sat on the three seater by Sumo gently petting the dog. You stayed quiet for a while till you leant your head back and sighed.

“I’m sorry” you finally spoke.

“The fuck you sorry for?” Hank said.

“Malfunctioning” you smiled.

“We all malfunction sometimes” Hank muttered.

“I’m not use to people clinging to me like that” you explained.

“I’m usually the one doing it, I’m sorry” you sighed and Hank frowned.

“What’s wrong with being clingy?” He asked.

“It’s annoying” you shrugged.

“I know it annoys you, I’m in your pocket all the time and I’m sorry I just-“ Hank cut you off.

“Shut up, you’re not annoying me, the only who annoys me is goof face over there I still have him around don’t I?” Hank looked you in the eye and you nodded.

“You don’t annoy me, I’m just a grumpy old alpha ok, I don’t mean to be a dick” he sighed running a hand down his face.

“I just am” he leant back looking away.

“Your not old or a dick” you mumbled.

“I am” he scoffed softly taking a sip of his beer.

“And you don’t even know what I’m doing” you sighed looking to Connor.

“I’ve known you for a while detective, I have ideas of what you are doing” Connor said.

“Though I may not be alpha, beta or omega I still understand your needs” he said and you smiled sadly.

“I just can’t help them in a way an alpha could” he added and your heart broke a little.

“Well shit” Hank laughed making you frown.

“Whats funny?” You asked.

“Connor” he said smirking.

“How am i funny lieutenant?” He asked tilting his head while you frowned confused.

“I forget both of you have never had partners” he sighed.

“Connor you have a thing for Y/n” he said and you flushed.

“What thing?” Connor asked.

“You like her” Hank added while you brought the blanket to your mouth.

“She is my friend” Connor said not getting.

“Fuck sake, you wanna be with her” Hank said gesturing to you. Connor frowned and blinked but made an ‘o’ face when he got it. Hank sighed sitting back a frown settling on his face though.

“Is something the matter?” Connor asked.

“No” Hank said bluntly and you frowned.

“Hank?” You said softly and he tsked getting up.

“You can sleep out here or kick me out of my bed I don’t care” he grumbled and went to his room. You frowned watching him leave shoulders sagging.

“I think the lieutenant disapprove of my feelings” Connor said.

“No he’s just-“ you sighed.

“Do you disapprove of my feelings detective?” He looked to you, puppy eyes boring into you.

“No! No, I’m just not use to having some like me like that Con” you flushed.

“I don’t know how it would work though” you sighed torn between Hank and Connor.

“Something bothers you” he stated giving you his attention.

“You and Hank-��� you sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Hank, I’m torn between you and him” you said sighing.

“I want you both to be happy and with me” you mumbled as Connors eyes squinted.

“You want both of us? As partners?” He asked and you nodded pulling the blanket close again.

“I don’t want one” you mumbled.

“I just don’t know what to do, Hank doesn’t see me like that” you said sadly.

“I’m just the stupid kid he has to look out for” you sighed. You held Sumo close, hugging him as you cried softly. Connor stood up and you frowned as he left in the direction of Hanks room. You sighed not knowing what he was doing.

“You love me right Sumo?” You asked and he licked your face.

“Yep” you made a disgusted face as he gave a silly lopsided grin with his tongue hanging out.

“You’re so cute” you squished his cheeks together.

“Detective” you jumped when Connor called you. You dreaded moving but went anyway with the blanket wrapped around you. You followed Connor into Hanks room, he sat at the end of his bed leaning on his hand.

“The lieutenant doesn’t believe me” Connor said making you frown.

“Believe what?” You said confused.

“That you want us both” you flushed at his words.

“Me and the lieutenant have experienced some intimate moments” you kept your eyes on the ground as Connor spoke.

“Only because you wanted to experiment” Hank snapped lightly.

“Fucking-“ Hank sighed. You were blushing furiously.

“Would you like to experiment detective?” Connors voice went low and deep and you almost melted at the sound. You were flushing like mad legs shaking slightly as you walked over to Hank. Hank looked up to you back straightening as he did. You gulped nervously as he looked down again.

“Fuck it” he mumbled and you yelped when he pulled you to his lap. Hank captured your lips and held his arm around your waist to keep you up. You were lost for a moment before kissing back. You shuddered at the feeling of being on his lap, your blanket now a pile on the floor. You didn’t notice Connor till his hands were on your hips. Hank had moved his hands higher up to hold you steady. Connors hand slipped under your shirt to feel your skin. You made a small noise in Hanks mouth and he gave a soft growl. Connors hands were cool on your overly heated skin, you were getting breathless as Hank kissed you roughly. Connor was feeling you, gently squeezing your soft flesh before you felt his lips on your neck. How Connor knew what to do was beyond you but you didn’t want it to stop. You pulled back breathless as Hank attacked the front of your neck instead. Connors hand moved to the front of your stomach, gently squeezing your tummy. You flushed embarrassed before his hand snaked to your pants.

“Connor” you mumbled and Hank hushed you gently.

“Hank” you whined as he kissed you again.

“We got you omega” Hank whispered into your mouth. Connors fingers eagerly slipped between your underwear and down through your folds. The android hummed against your neck before his lips left your skin. You whined but Hank growled in warning to keep focused on kissing him while Connor teased your clit. You gasped as he gently rubbed giving Hank access to inside your mouth. You had to pull back out of breath. You breathed heavily leaning against Hanks shoulder as he kissed and sucked along the side of your neck.

“Connor” you whined back arching slightly as his pace quickened. His fingers began to vibrate and you moaned at the feeling as he moved quickly. You came quickly too the stimulation to much. You panted and trembled as Connor ran his finger through your juices. He pulled his hand out and you frowned as he lifted his fingers to Hanks mouth. You flushed when Hank sucked on them eagerly moaning at your taste. Connor stood up too but Hank grabbed him and kissed him. You leant back slightly watching, eyes fixated. Hank pulled back breathless and Connor licked his lips. You were blushing like mad, body still trembling slightly as Connor kissed you gently. You leant to him almost chasing him as he left. You hid in Hanks shoulder then and he chuckled arms holding you tightly. Connor nudged his nose gently to your neck sighing.

“You should both rest” Connor said and you nodded eyes not daring to meet either of them. You got off Hanks lap with shaky legs, you picked up the blanket and wrapped it around yourself.

“No couch” Connor blocked your way before you could go there. Hank chuckled lying back in his bed arms behind his head. You saw his clear bulge and flushed like mad scurrying to the bed and lying down. Connor closed the curtains and you frowned when he went to leave.

“Connor” Hank called and he turned around.

“Come here you idiot” Hank sighed. You shuffled to move to the middle and Connor laid down beside you.

“I don’t sleep” Connor said.

“I don’t care” Hank said and you laughed quietly.

“You leave again and I’ll break your legs” Hank muttered lying down and getting comfortable.

“Noted” Connor said.

You closed your eyes but rolled over to face Connor. He laid stiffly, hands rested on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling. You looked to him silently asking hoping he’d see your eyes.

“Connor” Hank mumbled.

“Yes lieutenant?” Connor answered.

“You have to pay attention” Hank said and Connor looked to you.

“Oh” he said opening his arms. You smiled lying on his chest, leg hiked up on his. Hank spooned you from behind and you sighed contently. You saw Hank grabbed Connors other hand and you smiled finally closing your eyes for a needed rest.

Next chapter ->

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 1

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Summary: Alexys is a doctor living a life of exclusivity on Raxus, hoping to survive through a peaceful existence, concealing herself from those she believes would use her, or kill her. When fate intervenes and instigates a perilous journey she'd been desperately trying to avoid, Alex finds herself caught in the middle of two sides in both war and love.

Preface: Let me say, I am immensely nervous about this. After months of back and forth inside my mind, I’ve decided to go for it and begin the long process of moving my long running series to Tumblr, along with changing the name (something I’ve wanted to do for a long time). I hit a big emotional road block after over a year of writing and posting, so I’m hoping this move will eventually get me back into the swing. But for now, I’m looking forward to revisiting the beginning of this space love triangle.

If you’ve already read the saga, absolutely NO pressure to read again. Each chapter will be edited a little, but no major plot points will change. To any newcomers who find themselves interested, the story is already posted on AO3 if you are desperate to continue. Otherwise if you prefer reading on Tumblr, or simply like the forced breaks between chapters, I’ll be posting a new chapter every couple of days. I know it’s not written as reader insert, but I just couldn’t make the story work out in any other fashion. I poured a lot of love and heart into Alexys so I hope you’ll give her a chance.

Chapter 1 - Crash Landing

Words: 3.4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: descriptions of severe injury including blood and bone, medical procedures 

Read on AO3

~

I felt it before I heard it.

A booming crash of metal and glass, sending a shattering vibration through the walls and furniture around me. After the years of mostly silence I’d become accustomed to, the noise that came pummelling into my ears almost made me shriek in surprise. It was short lived, coming and going in a flicker so quick I had to wonder if it was real at all.

Lights began to flash, blinking rapidly in uneven time. The mixture of harsh beeps indicated something was faulting my electricity circuits, plunging me into the darkness of night over and over.

I could only question myself again at the plausibility of this being a dream, but the slow, increasing creak emanating from beyond the walls of this building brought me to a certainty.

Something had crashed outside.

Fear radiated through my limbs, leaving me stuck where I was standing for a few moments, before an uncontrollable urge of selflessness and honestly, curiosity, forced me to move and exit the safety of my clinic.

There wasn’t really a way to prepare for what I saw not metres away from my front entrance. A ship, an X-wing of some variety, was wrecked into itself, varying metals twisted and curled over each other, flames beginning to billow out from the creases. I could feel the heat of them rise as I cautiously stepped forward, taking in the scene with wide eyes. Only seconds had passed when I saw it – the movement of something – no, a person, demanding my attention. The pilot of this battered machine had been thrown just beyond the edge of its hull, broken transparisteel smattering the ground around them.

Hm, the Resistance should probably investigate their flight safety measures.

That thought quickly flittered away when the pilot moved again, this time with a painful moan echoing into the atmosphere. The switch inside quickly flipped, and an all too familiar feeling of conviction flooded through.

This is your cue Alexys.

I raced quickly to the pilot and knelt on the ground before them, fingers carefully removing the black and red helmet with both urgency and restraint as to not cause any more possible damage to their head or neck. The moan I'd heard just moments before let me know this person had some kind of airway, but it was pertinent I assess further. With the helmet gone I noticed the short, lightly waved black hair of a man, his eyes pulled closed, a few bruises and smudges of grey soot smattered over his face. His chest was moving, laboured breathing with the occasional heave on inhale.

At least he’s breathing.

“It’s alright,” I insisted. “I’m here to help you.”

There wasn’t any discernible response from the pilot other than a groan that withered away slowly, and that in itself was worrying. Kneeling over his body, I placed two fingers under the line of his jaw, halfway down, trying to feel for a pulse. I could sense the thump of blood under my fingertips, but it was too slow, too faint, too uneven.

Not great, but it was enough for now.

I began to scan over his body, knowing it was time to assess what was giving him reason to cry out in pain. There were severe burns on his left arm which had caused some of his flight suit to stick to the skin, with more scalds reaching down to his torso and abdomen. His right arm was almost definitely broken with the limb morphed into an irregular angle almost halfway along.

Without being able to look at them directly to ascertain whether I was going to be able to move him, I pressed on his hips gently, silently praying he hadn’t broken his pelvis. He muffled softly, but anyone who had actually shattered the bone would have screamed. As my eyes continued to scan down, it became obvious all too suddenly the shattered edge of his right femur bone poking out of the orange flight suit.

Kriff, this is not ideal.

I wanted to kick myself for not noticing it before, but there was no time, not with the very real possibility of him bleeding out in front of my eyes. My feet moved under me, racing back to the clinic room, knowing where the bandage and splint lay waiting, along with the anaesthetic injections I had stocked in the pharmacy cupboard.

He was certainly going to need them.

Within minutes I was back to the ground with the pilot, clicking together the injector handle and vial, piercing the needle straight into his thigh above the fracture site. I wouldn’t be able to wait for it to dull most of the pain, so internally, I braced myself for the scream I was about to elicit from this poor human's chest. The second I started to wrap the bandage around the splint, a piercing wail echoed through the air, almost causing me to hesitate. Still, my hands continued to haphazardly wrap the white material around his leg, pushing through the guilt it ignited. 

Suddenly, the noise stopped.

My eyes darted to his face as his head slumped over on its side. “Hey!” I shouted into his face as I scrambled back to the top end of his limp body. “Hey can you hear me? Open your eyes if you can hear me!”

There was no response.

I pinched at the muscle on his shoulder, harder and harder to elicit any kind of reaction. Nothing. My hand pulled into a closed fist and grinded against his sternum. “Come on, open those eyes if you can feel this!”

Still nothing.

Again I took check of his breathing, chest still rising and falling, yet shallow and with little power. His heartbeat had begun to race, but through my fingertips I could feel the strain in the muscle. Something was seriously wrong, even more so than his other injuries. Something internally. If I didn’t get him into the clinic, he was going to die.

In a snap decision, I chose to forgo an attempt to run back and locate the hover-stretcher. It would take too much time to set up and power on, time this man didn’t have. I would have to move him myself.

How the hell am I going to do this?

With my arms hooked and locked under his armpits I began to drag the pilots hefty body backwards towards the clinic behind me, thankfully only a few meters away, barely making it past the entryway when a roar of flames overtook the X-wing. I looked up to see the blaze almost completely engulfing the ship, a ferocious heat searing into my eyes and face. With even more urgency I heaved the body into the large clinic room, getting up and slamming the door just in time. Just before a house rattling explosion sent shockwaves into the atmosphere.

Lucky didn’t seem to be an appropriate feeling considering the situation I was in, but at least no one had died. Yet. With my last bit of brute strength, I hoisted the pilots limp body onto the closest hospital bed, noticing then the trail of red liquid I’d brought along with me.

Oh no no no.

With him still lifeless, I tugged at his body and limbs to lie flat on the bed, scurrying to my medical trolley and hauling it back to where the pilot laid, ragged breaths still thankfully escaping into the air. Snatching the heavy shears from the top drawer, I began to tear through the thick fabric of the flight suit, unclipping and removing as much of the life support vest and belt as I could. I had to be careful not to rip away the fabric that melted into the burns scattered all over his body, the number of them increasing as I peeled away the suit, starting from his legs, up to his abdomen and chest over to his upper arms. His torso was in full view now, a smattering of dark hair over his pectorals, underneath which showed the bruises of his crash’s impact.

Oh he’s definitely got some broken ribs.

As my gaze scanned over his skin, I could finally isolate where all that blood had escaped from. A deep penetrating wound just below the last rib on his left flank. As I registered his quick shallow breaths and the uneven rise in his chest, it became obvious.

Collapsed lung.

Whatever had pierced through his chest had poked an extremely damaging hole in his lung, the pleural space now filling with air, leaving no room for his lung to expand. My following movements were swift and calculated, almost automatic. A pointed scalpel was soon in my hand, poised to cut. But I couldn’t help but hesitate. It had been so long since I’d had to do this. And yet, somehow, concern for this stranger’s life was quick to weave it’s way through, dissolving my fear into pure resolve.

I made my incision in between the 4th and 5th ribs, using a clamp to push into the underlying tissue and past the pleural cavity, a gloved hand then entering to check I’d made it through. With an instinctive confidence, I guided the chest tube between the layers of tissue, undoing the ratchet of the clamp to an immediate rush of air. The pilot’s chest heaved in relief, along with my own.

One crisis averted.

But there was more to do. Connecting a drain to the tube, I haphazardly sutured it in place, before flying to the pharmacy cupboard. My stock of bacta was limited, returning with an already prepared vial into the pressurised injector, reminding myself I would need to use it sparingly if this stranger was going to make it through the full extend of his injuries. I had cursed at myself only a few times in the years past at being so far removed from a higher level medical centre that would be overflowing with bacta and medical droids that could help in exactly this kind of situation, but the thought had never burned me so badly. There was no way to know if I could keep this man alive with the resources that yesterday I had been more than comfortable with. I would just have to try.

I injected some of the bacta solution throughout the surrounding area of the wound and covered it with heavy dressing, knowing the bleeding would quickly be curbed. Unfortunately, the wound itself would take a few days to fully close, only ever being able to afford lower quality bacta. Before moving on to the burns, I placed some basic monitoring, lines extending from electrical dots over his chest, wrist and neck to the data monitor above the bed. As the numbers lit up on the holo screen, I felt myself breathe a small sigh of relief, having prepared for a much worse result. His heart rate was better, oxygen levels returning to normal, blood pressure not optimal by any means but high enough to sustain his life, for now.

After securing an oxygen filter over his battered face, I continued to inspect and clean as many of the small and more sizeable burns dotting his body. Even with the many I had uncovered, the one extending from his shoulder past his elbow was the one of most concern. Third degree and extremely unhappy looking. If I wasn’t quick to treat this, it could leak even more fluid from his already compromised circulatory system. I was thankful he still remained unconscious when I began to slowly shed the charred material melted into the skin layer. I couldn’t help but shudder as I remembered the initial scream this man had let out, knowing I would be hearing it now if not for his comatose state.

Covering the immense scald in as much salve as I could spare, I began to wrap it in protective antibacterial bandage, soon moving on to protect his many blisters and deeper burns with dressings. Glancing at the monitor screen, he was still stable, and swallowed hard. Now it was time to attempt possibly the most daunting part of this patient’s treatment.

His femur was still sticking through the tissue of his thigh, slightly dried dark red blood creating lightning strike looking lines extending from the wound.

I need to get some blood into him before moving this.

I quickly got to work on an IV cannula, his poor blood pressure making it significantly more difficult than it should have been. Two bags of O- blood were all I had, and a wave of dread coursed through me with the thought of that not being enough if this all went wrong. My fist squeezed the fast flow pump of the IV line, pushing fresh blood urgently into his system, making his blood pressure rise only slightly. With the last of the red liquid trickling through the line I wheeled over the portable X-Ray. It was so old the mechanical arm screeched at me as I positioned it into place over the pilot’s leg. The bone had to be at least somewhat in place before getting the bacta to work its magic or this guy might walk with two uneven legs for the rest of his life.

If he actually made it through the rest of his injuries, that is.

Shaking my arms out at my side, I sucked in a few deep breaths to build my stamina. Unfortunately, this stranger was stuck with a small framed female to attempt reducing his severe fracture. With one last inhale, I drew the courage to pull as hard as I could horizontally at the knee joint, digging my fingers into a vice grip around the limb and yanking it towards me. To my relief, the fractured edge of the femur to slipped back into the hole it was peeking out from, settling back under the skin.

Thank all the stars in the galaxy he’s not awake for this.

I quickly pressed the image button on the X-ray to assess the progress I’d made. The faint white lines of bone edges were stark enough on the grey background of the image. The fracture wasn’t reduced even nearly enough. I prepared myself again, with another deep breath I pulled hard. This time my efforts were forced into angling the lower portion of bone to try and lock it back into place. The grinding of bone edges could be felt through my fingers, pushing myself to pull even harder, creating more space between the fracture in the hope of giving a fighting chance of lining up the splintered edges. My muscles were whining, begging for this to be over, tears of exhaustion soon stinging at the edges of my eyes.

With one final twisting motion there was a sudden click.

Finally.

My relief was short lived.

It was slow at first, before racing faster. A stream of dark red blood pooling at the wound the broken bone had made.

Oh maker no.

Within moments the pace of the blood quickened. I shot my hands to the open flesh site, pressing down hard in an attempt to disturb the flow. The liquid quickly covered my gloved hands, already sure I’d sliced into the femoral artery. The pressure of my hands into the area made the blood spurt out onto my arms, my clothes, my face, everywhere. The monitor was screaming, blood pressure falling quickly. Wiping some of the hot coppery fluid away from my left eye, I slid my fingers back into the gash, moving desperately to stop the overflow before the man lying in front of me bled out, knowing it would all be my fault.  

You have to do it Alexys. He will die if you don’t.

The voice nagged at me, pleading to do what it wanted.

He’s with the Resistance! If he survives, if he contacts them, they’ll find me. And they’ll know.

It is time to decide. His life. Or yours.

Seconds ticked by fleetingly, numbers flashing on the monitor trickling down, the speed of blood flow from the pilot’s leg stubbornly keeping it’s intensity.

Everything I’d done to get here, to isolate myself so no one could find me. It would all amount to nothing. My easy, albeit lonely life, would be gone. All because of this stranger.

But I couldn’t let him die. Not like this.

In one flash, I removed my hands from inside the wound, ripping off my gloves and placing two palms at either side of the leg. With closed eyes, I willed the energy out of the depths of its slumber. From the darkened corner of my mind I pulled it back into existence, opening the gate I’d locked it inside for so long, letting it finally burst through and fill up my brain. From there it down through my neck, through my chest and down my arms, right to the end of my fingertips. Its warming glow was almost comforting, friendly. I would have basked in it for a while if not for the life that hung in the balance before me.

Through the pads of my fingerprints I pushed the stream outwards, connecting past the skin of this innocent human being, and felt the overwhelming heat of pain and dimming of energy.

Hurry, he’s dying.

I began to map out the tissue of his leg, frustratingly slowly, starting at the smallest of capillaries, weaving and winding through the flesh, connecting them through the maze of fat and muscle. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead, my breathing forced and harsh. The vessels grew bigger as I pushed the energy through, skipping past broken points of other smaller injuries. I could fix them later.

Finally, I felt a molten warmth radiating close to where the maze had guided me. Racing to it, I sensed something pushing me back, the pressure of escaping fluid holding my efforts. I’d found the cut, but now I had to somehow knit it back together.

You’re taking too long.

The alarms of the monitor started to echo with a hollow ring inside my ear, fading until I could hear almost nothing. The world around me was blurry, only the image of vessel tissue and all-consuming redness visible in my minds eye. The energy I was expending began to burn me - I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer. I reached out with it, what felt like many hands grasping desperately at the severed edge of the vessel, frantic yet delicate, pulling whatever tissue I could hold back into place.

Several fringes connected, the pressure pushing forcefully against me, making it harder to hold. I couldn’t help but begin to shake at the strain, the sound of my own heart pounding over the slowing heartbeat of the pilot. My grip was already beginning to fade before I started to sew the pieces of artery back together, an ache growing behind my eyes as I pierced an invisible needle through the tissue, over and over, still clawing at the unsewn edges as I made my way around the tube.

I was so close, the tension of the fluid still being driven out of the broken seal almost overcoming me. The unseen thread had almost made its way full circle. I was almost there.

My entire body rattled with exhaustion and pain. One final thread wove itself around the artery, its abrupt closure alleviating the strain on invisible fingers that had been clutching it all together.

You did it.

The energy dissipated quickly in a rolling wave, letting it retreat back into my mind, scampering to the secluded area of my brain, hidden once more. I felt light suddenly, dizzy, the world coming back into focus, screaming alarms growing louder. It was too much, all at once.

A sharp pang of fatigue enveloped every part of my senses and I faltered back, knees giving way, slumping to the floor.

Then, there was only darkness.

~

Next Chapter

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[shurelyasreverie]

Sett x Reader: Love is the Best Medicine

You've been patching up Sett every since he joined the underground fight scene but you fear for the day he pushes himself too far.

Word Count: 1447

The sound of the front door opening and closing followed by sluggish footsteps woke you up from your light slumber on the couch. Stretching, you yawned as you regarded the time. It was an ungodly hour in the morning but you were used to it. Today was another day Sett was off fighting in the pits, and it was your job to make sure he survived them. Fortunately he usually knew how to look after himself.

“Y’really need to learn to lock the door,” Sett's familiar yet strained voice chided and you chuckled as you stood up, rubbing your eyes.

“Why bother? I know you're going to come-” Once you took in Sett's appearance you immediately looked away. You frantically cleared the couch and ushered his hulking form onto it. You didn't dare touch his bleeding and bruised arms, you couldn't bring yourself to look into his bloodshot eyes. His laboured breathing was painful to hear.

“(Y/N)-”

“Shush,” you scolded as you left to get your first aid kit and medication. Such wounds weren't going to kill him but every moment away from him still filled you with anxiety. You rushed back by his side and started to clean his wounds. The only sound in your home was Setts' grunts and groans as he writhed under the sting of anaesthetic.

“You've never been beaten up this bad before,” you whispered. With his wounds cleaned up, Sett looked visibly better and it helped you relax ever so slightly. You tossed the dirtied rags of blood – whose blood it was, you didn't know – to the ground.

“This didn't happen in the ring,” Sett muttered. “I must've pissed off some goons who placed bets on someone else. They jumped me when I was headin' out.”

You nodded silently as you bound his arm with bandages. You feared this day would come, where the violence Sett experienced was no longer bound to the pits. He now had a target on his back all day, every day. The underground pits weren't the concern anymore, it was now a question if he could just survive day to day life. Although you technically lived alone, having Sett – sometimes joined by his mother – frequently visit meant you almost always had company. If something happened and Sett wasn't around to visit-

“That face doesn't suit ya, y'know,” Sett grumbled and you shook your head.

“What face?”

“That sad one.” When you finished bandaging his arm, he brought it up. His large, calloused hand caressed the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I can look after myself. Don't worry.”

“You'll need to rest from these injuries,” you stated and you felt his thumb hesitate before continuing its soothing motions as if everything was okay.

“Y'know I can't do that.”

“A week's rest.”

“People placed bets on me for tomorrow.”

“You can't,” you snapped, pulling your head away from his hand. “You can't fight in this state!”

“The fight's at night, I got all day to rest,” Sett reasoned.

“Not good enough,” you scolded.

“Listen (Y/N), it's either I fight at the pit or I fight for scraps on the street. Which one do you think's better?”

“I can accommodate for you and your mum,” you responded and Sett shot you a doubtful look. Even he knew that you weren't living the life of Noxian aristocracy. “... temporarily.”

“That ain't happenin', you've already done enough.”

Sett shifted as he pulled out a small leather pouch from behind. He placed it in your palm and you heard the unmistakable chink of coins. You tilted your head at him.

“That's thanks for lookin' after me,” Sett explained, further proving a point as he lifted his freshly bandaged arms. “At the rate I'm winnin' that bag'll be doublin' in size next time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you regarded the pouch that sat comfortably in your palm that grew heavier with his words. Tears started to prick at the back of your eyes and you lowered your head, holding the bag back to him.

“I can't possibly take this.”

“Ma's got her fair share.”

“This is your money that you earned.”

“Damn right. It's my money and I choose what to do with it. I choose to give it to you.”

The fire in Sett's eyes was unmistakable. Knowing you couldn't argue with Sett when he made up his mind, you pulled your arm back and placed the pouch on the table.

“Just having you return is enough for me,” you admitted in a whisper.

“It ain't enough for me, though,” Sett replied, waiting until you turned to face him and look athim dead in the eyes. “I ain't just fightin' for money or glory. I'm fightin' for ma and I'm fightin' for you.”

“Me?” you frowned. “I'm fine-”

“I know why you live alone.”

“I told you, I just wanted to move out away from my family-”

“Your family kicked you out for bein' pals with the local 'half beast',” Sett corrected and your heart dropped. “Overheard 'em trash talkin' ya in the street a few days back. I know the truth. Don't worry, I made 'em shut up the only way I know how.”

“Sett...” you were lost for words. “I...”

“I'm sorry for makin' your life hell. Your family were doin' pretty damn well for themselves but they didn't spare shit for ya,” he growled. “All because of little ol' me.”

“I... I don't regret what happened,” you said, determined. “If they're not going to respect you then I'd rather have nothing to do with them.”

It was now Sett's turn to be lost for words, looking stunned as he blinked a couple of times. Solidifying your point, you gently wrapped your arms around his torso as not to aggravate his wounds. Pressing your head against his bare chest, you could hear his erratic heartbeat as it pounded in your ear. His arms made their way around your back, his face nuzzling into your hair. After a few moments of silence, Sett pulled his head back and so did you, but his hold on you didn't loosen.

“I'll make 'em respect me. And I'll make 'em respect you. Everyone who knows who I am will know you too. And they'll know to treat ya like royalty. I ain't havin' it any other way.”

“... thank you, Sett. I... if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

Fingers gently nudged your chin up to look at him properly. As he leaned down, noses almost touching, you could see the details in his eyes as they burned with passion.

“Never leave my side,” he whispered.

“As long as you never leave mine.”

“Y'drive a hard bargain,” he chuckled quietly. “Deal.”

Both you and Set moved forward simultaneously, lips pressing together softly. Sett's hand that rested on your chin moved back, lacing his fingers through your hair. His other arm sat comfortably around your waist as he gently pulled you closer, closing any possible gaps between you as the kiss deepened. You felt warm as you were held in his embrace. How such a rough and brutal fighter be so gentle was beyond you but you loved it nonetheless.

You loved him.

The kiss ended as you gasped for air. Pressing your forehead against his, your breaths mingled together.

“I love you,” you confessed and Sett smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again.

“I've waited too long to hear that,” he admitted and you giggled as you noticed his flushed face. “I love you too. I, uh... is it alright if I stay here for the night?”

“You should head back to your mum, she's probably worried for you.”

“Nah, ma would understand,” Sett cleared his throat as he looked away, embarrassed. “She's been waitin' for this to happen.”

You pulled back as you burst out laughing. Setts' ears flattened as he grumbled something non-coherent. But before he could get too grumpy, you took his hand with a soft smile, guiding him to the bedroom. “Come on, you need to be well rested and healed before you get back in the ring.”

[mendesblurb]

can you do one where the reader is a doctor and is dating shawn and connor gets hurt so shawn and his team go to the hospital the reader works at, but because of fans, they are in a private room where doctors stay, so like his girlfriend is talking to her doctor friends and like making jokes about medical stuff while shawn and his team watches ( she doesn’t know he is there) then when she gets home he tells her how proud he is. sorry this is so long

Proud of you

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

Note: I’m not a medical student, so the terms may not be 100% accurate and I did attempt to do a little research... Anyway I hope you enjoy the story... :)

“Doctor Y/L/N, I’ve got a 22 year old in room 1 that need stitches.” “Doctor.., are you okay?” The intern asked again.

“Oh yeah I’m fine....” You said rubbing your eyes while quickly getting up from the couch at the lounge area and began putting your hair in a ponytail and hung the stethoscope around your neck again.

Honestly You were about to take a quick nap from your busy and nonstop eighteenth hours shift but busy nights like tonight made it impossible for you to even close your eyes for a second.

“Good Evening, I’m Doctor Y/L/N, I’m the attending physician in the ER tonight.” You said while still looking at the patient chart. When you finally looked up you were surprised,”..Connor? Shawn?”

“Hey Y/N I got a little clumsy..” Connor confessed shyly. “I think what he meant was very clumsy because the cut is pretty deep.” Shawn said

As you came closer to Connor who was sitting down down at the bed, you noticed that his hand was already wrapped poorly in a bandage.

“So what happened?” You asked while waiting for the nurse to prepare the anaesthetics, sterile water, bandages and a tiny little needle.

“It was stupid. I got attacked by a soup can lid, if you can believe it.” Connor explains while you began cleaning the cut with sterile water to remove any harmful germs and dirt.

“Okay Brashier, I’m going to inject you with the anaesthetic.” You said while slowly injecting it to him,”owww Y/N!!!!” He whined meanwhile you and Shawn starts laughing at him.

“Connor stop being a baby.” Shawn said jokingly and Connor just pouts.

Soon you began stitching up the wound when suddenly, “Y/N!! I need your help to diagnose a patient—— oh? Hi Shawn.” Your best friend Olivia said while Walking up the room and Shawn waved at her.

“Hey liv, I thought your shift ended like an hour ago.” You said while not lifting your gaze away from the hand. “Well... I was about to go home but then the patient came in and I couldn’t just leave him, so will you help me diagnose him?”

“Sure thing.” You nodded your head and give her a quick smile.

“So the patient is male aged 45 and he’s Asian American.”

“Symptoms?” You asked. “He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhoea and was treated for the flu. He then returned several days later with an enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain and a rash on his shoulder.”

“What did his former doctors think it was?”

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” Olivia said while trying to hold back her laughter, “Ha! Amateurs.” You laughed. “I know right.” She replied.

In that moment Connor just made eye contact with Shawn as they both didn’t understand anything that you were talking about or why was it funny.

“Anyway... they also didn’t do any biopsy when he showed up like six months ago with a flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.”

“Does he have any history of dermatitis?” Or was he like given any medication prior to being admitted?” You questioned.

“No and no.” Olivia answers, “hmm it could be cutaneous kikuchi diseases.” You said.

“Omg Y/N!! the symptoms do add up, Shawn I swear your girlfriend here is just a pure genius.” Olivia said while giving you a side hug.

“Yup she definitely is.” Shawn replied proudly

“Thank you for helping Y/N, I owe you one.” Olivia said while making her way outside the room to bring the news to the patient and informing the nurse about the medications that need to be prescribed.

A few minutes of silence pass by until you finally break the silence, “okay the stitches are done.” You said and began wrapping a gauze around the stitched hand and also securing it with tape.

————————————LATER———————————————————

“Why are you making that face?” You asked Shawn who was just staring at you while both of you were just waiting for Connor who is at the pharmacy.

“I’m just so proud of you.” He said

"Awww baby.” you smile softly and kiss him lightly on the lips.

“My..girlfriend is a..badass Doctor.” he mumbles against your lips.

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist: @holland-styles @itsalwaysbeen305 @nervousmendes @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @monikamendes @bvttercupbby @rainyseb @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @camilalewiss @smendes-forever @username2002

[smileposting]

s4mweek day 1 - secret

[ao3 link] [it’s got author’s notes!]

“Well,” he says, tilting his head to look up at the flower child like their boxing glove is a sword pointed at his throat. But he knows no matter how hard he tries to make it seem otherwise, there’s nothing noble about the gesture, no pretty and quiet defiance like the kind you’d see in a hero. “I suppose this is it, Flower Child.”

Flower Kid stands over him, haloed in the fluorescent lighting of the office behind them. The hood of their jacket casts such a harsh shadow that Habit can only see their face from the nose down. A trail of blood trickles down from their mouth. 

“One more shove and you’ve gotten your way,” he says, ignoring the taste of bile, the bite of glass digging into his palm, the way he can’t clench his jaw properly and can’t even tell himself that it was all worth it in the end anymore. “Perhaps it’s time. A younger me would do the same.” The balcony railing is low. Even if Flower Kid chose to have mercy on him for whatever reason, if he were to stand up and back away now, he’d most likely trip and fall to his doom anyway. The thought is almost comforting; no perpetrators, no victims, just the culmination of one very foolish man’s mistakes. If nothing else, at least he can have this, the knowledge that in the end, everyone got exactly what they deserved.

Flower Kid rolls their eyes - or at least, Habit assumes they roll their eyes, based on the minute curl of their lip and their head turning left for the briefest of moments. They pull their arm back.

He flinches, bowing his head and closing his eyes in one swift motion, and braces himself for the impact of a second hit that never comes.

There’s a pause. And then the dull thud of leather against linoleum. What?

 He doesn’t dare to let go of the breath he’s holding, but he does, against his better judgement, crack one eye open. The boxing glove lays discarded on the floor, forgotten as the flower child rummages through their bouquet. “Flower Child…?”

“Enough theatrics,” they sign. They’re remarkably articulate for someone who should either still be waiting for the laughing gas to wear off or should be doubled over in pain from the earlier extraction. “I have something for you.”

And then they turn around. When Boris sees what they have in their arms, the shock of it strikes him so hard he might as well have been punched after all. He lunges for it like a starved animal, seized by a sudden ferocity, and it takes everything in him not to snarl in frustration when Flower Kid holds it just out of his reach.

“First,” they sign. “You promise that you won’t hurt anyone else.”

“There’s no one else left to hurt,” he pleads, arms outstretched plaintively. “Please…?”

A silence follows as Flower Kid seems to contemplate their next move, eyeing Boris like a cat sizing up a pigeon. Then they relent, and Lily is finally back in his arms.

“Where did you get this?” Boris asks after what feels like hours spent on the floor of his office, running his hands over thick, waxy petals, of reveling in the feeling of the flowerpot in his hands, in its cool terracotta. He knows the answer, but something in him demands some confirmation.

Flower Kid shrugs. “Grew it myself.”

Silence. A tacit understanding. They sit down on the floor across from him.

“You know everything about me, then,” says Boris. It isn’t a question.

“Not everything. Just what was important to know.”

“Right,” he snorts. “That I’m a sad, selfish little man-baby who takes it out on everyone else. Very important.”

“Right now, yeah,” they concede, earning them the stink eye of the century from Boris despite the honesty. “But you don’t have to be one forever.” Their movements slow down, and it suddenly strikes him that they’re scrambling for the right words just as much as he is. “I know this doesn’t feel like that great of an ending, but... maybe that just means it isn’t an ending at all. For you, anyway.”

Boris blinks. “And for you?”

Flower Kid takes a moment to look around the office. The lighting’s grown dimmer, flickering on occasion. “Yeah. I think I’m done here.” And then they stand up as though they had never been on the ground at all, heading towards the doorway.

“Wait.”

They pause, turning back to look at him quizzically.

Suddenly, Boris’ mouth is dry. Idiot, a little voice tells him. You whine and beg for people to stay and when they do, you can’t even be bothered to give them a reason?

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he says, cringing at how stilted his words are. “Maybe you could… listen to what I have to say?”

“...Yeah. I can do that.”

Oh, goodness. Okay. Now he really has to think of something good. “I…” he pauses to swallow before starting again. How do they do this in movies? “I thought I had destroyed all those seeds. Squashed them flat and buried them deep, deep where they wouldn’t resurface. I used to be a naive flower child like you-”

Somehow, Boris gets the distinct impression that Flower Kid raises an eyebrow at that. He elects to ignore it and continue.

“ - But I gave up believing that everyone could be saved. I learned that you gotta break a few eggs to make a happiness omelette. Or, teeth-”

Wait.

Oh, wait.

“Teeth!” Boris hisses, scrambling to his feet. “Flower Kid, your teeth - oh, how did it - how did I-?!”

The closer Boris gets, the further Flower Kid backs away, pulling the hem of their hoodie up over the visible parts of their face. “It’s not that big a deal,” they sign hurriedly. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine!” Boris exclaims in what should have been a booming voice, but came out as more of a faint scream. “You’ll be fine?! I tore out your teeth - I didn’t use anaesthetic.” His breath is coming out in short, labored huffs as he begins to pace about the office, bringing a hand to his mouth as though it’ll do anything to stop the ensuing tidal wave of anxiety. “Oh, God. Oh, my God-”

A hand reaches out to grip his shoulder, urging Boris to look Flower Kid directly in the face. As much as the two of them can manage, anyway - now that they’re both standing up, Flower Kid has to crane their neck a little to look up at him, face full of steely, stone-faced determination. Then they open their mouth, revealing a full, if not bloodied, set of teeth. 

Boris’ jaw hangs open in kind, unsure if he should scream or sigh in relief or ask how any of this is happening right now. “No,” is what he finally settles on.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean,” he sputters. “That this should not be happening! You should be writhing on the floor in pain! And have at least twelve less teeth than you do right now!”

“Are you… angry, that isn’t the case?”

“Yes! I mean, no - I don’t know,” he says, throwing his free hand up before it comes to rest on his temple, the other still holding Lily protectively against his stomach. “...People don’t just… grow teeth back, Flower Kid. If they did, we would not be here right now.”

“Debatable,” they sign. “Anyway, I’ve never had the best relationship with things like physics. Or lasting damage. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Habit groans. “Instead of punching me off the balcony you’ve decided to mess with my head so much it will kill me. Is that it?”

“Hardly. Besides, you’ve seen weirder. You’ve done weirder.”

Boris opens his mouth to protest before closing it again, lips pressed together into a thin line. “Touché.”

“There we go. Think of it like this: I keep my mouth shut about the part where you performed impromptu dental surgery on me, and in return you discover why I throw myself down stairwells all the time.”

Boris blinks, his grip on the flowerpot tightening. “I… I don’t-”

“I get it, you wanna do the right thing,” Flower Kid assures him. “But believe me when I say that it’s way harder to do that from jail, and I don’t think five to ten years in relative isolation from the outside world would do your mental health any favors.”

“That’s-”

“You’ll probably still get charged with medical fraud, though. Nothing I can really do there. Sorry.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Boris finally manages to get a word in, much to Flower Kid’s apparent surprise. “Flower Kid, I hurt you. Badly. You were bleeding... You really didn’t feel any of it?”

They study Boris for a moment before responding. “Sure, I did. Why do you think I punched you?” When Boris doesn’t laugh, they sheepishly add, “It only hurts for a couple seconds. I’m used to it.”

“You’re still hurting yourself,” Boris says quietly. “Flower Kid, that’s no way to live.”

“Look who’s talking,” they retort, and immediately wince. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

“No, no, you… have a point,” Boris sighs. “You’ve done enough, anyway. I think it’s time for you to go.”

Flower Kid frowns. “What about you?”

Boris looks around the office with a small grimace, “I have a few things to clean up, first. But I’ll follow when I’m done.”

They tilt their head and nod - not totally satisfied, but it will have to do for now. “Take care of Lily.”

“I will,” says Boris, managing a half smile despite his exhaustion. “Take care of yourself, too, Flower Child.”

They hold up their hand as they walk away, snapping their fingers and thumb together a few times as they do to mimic someone talking. Yeah, yeah, it says. No promises.

Boris wants to - needs to - say something before they leave. He needs to tell them how much good they’ve done; how much good they’ll continue to do; what a fool he is.

But before he knows it, they’re gone.

[curekibouka-writing]

Désespoir Infini (Hugtto Precure one-shot fanfic)

Summary: If only the prince was saved before fate suffocated him with infinite despair...

Character focus: Henri W. 

Word count: 546

*This fic is also on FF.net, Quotev and AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was strong.

The proud Prince on Ice who had all that he could ever ask for, talent, looks, a supportive family, good friends and good competition. He has come so far on this flawlessly successfully path he paved day and night with sweat and falls and sacrifices.

Dead end.

Who’d have thought? The snow white flower falls so silently, gracelessly, and a little too early.

It’s over. おしまいだ。

Henri’s head is burning, half burning in pain and the other half burning every last drop of his willpower to regain control.

At least, control over his legs.

It’s all over. もうおしまいだ。

He can’t feel them, and it’s laughable now that he once thought the aftereffects of surgical anaesthetics were scary enough.

He sees the white of his breath in the air of winter, but it doesn’t sound like white.

A trembling exhale. A shaky rasp. A throaty caw. And, once the pain that simmers in his lower limbs bursts into his throat and his head, a holler in harmony with all the cacophonies performed on the road of a traffic accident.

Not a holler of laments, nor one of agony, it’s more senseless, more red, as if he had pointed a finger at the sky and spat at whatever whimsical deities up there leering down at him with amusement and contempt.

They had strung him up like a marionette and cut the string to his legs. He has a tragic third act written out for him and still he accepted it like the docile lamb they wanted him to be.

So why tweak his fate this way? And why now? He had asked for nothing but a sophisticated curtain call, a pretence, just one last deceitful dance. Why, pray tell, is this simple wish robbed from him?

He’s been strong for so long, fought for so long, against his identity, his time, against his condition, and still he arose victorious, for what? The only honor he would like to claim is a finale worthy of his story so far.

Aah. But he’s sick of this.

When he leaps, they throw him down. When he glides, they cut his string. When he crawls, they crush his leg. He’s sick of playing the fool in fate’s comedy drama, to struggle and struggle and struggle harder only to have every endeavour thwarted because he was not permitted to see the finale through.

So I’m sorry, Masato.

Wanting to give him new legs? What’s the point? Could he go anywhere?

He doesn’t want to anymore.

So I’m sorry, Homare.

“This isn’t the end!” aren’t words he can believe in.

Unlike you, not all stars can plummet from the sky and still shine again.

So take me, darkness.

Would you be my stage? Cut all my strings and dress me in shadows. So freely I dance where no one would see.

“Do you wish to erase the future?”

It was already gone to him in the first place.

“Come with us.”

To a bird whose wings are ripped off, to a prince whose domain is conquered, to a skater whose leg is now lamed, to a tireless boy whose strength has run out...

“Welcome to Criasu Corporation.”

This is the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some translation:

Désespoir infini: infinite despair

おしまいだ: It’s over (pronounced as oshimaida)

もうおしまいだ: It’s all over (pronounced as mou oshimaida)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hello, sorry for not updating in so long, if you scroll through my account you might realise I've been writing a lot for another fandom haha. And also kind of sorry I posted something like this on Christmas, it's not pre-meditated, I swear, I just don't have any heartwarming fics this year 😅

[helloalycia]

alex WILL kick my arse // supergirl

summary: you learn that being supergirl's doctor came with its challenges

warning/s: none.

author's note: i’m lowkey posting a bunch of stuff that i posted on my wattpad a while ago lol

masterlist | wattpad

I was sat in the medical unit of the DEO, reading through some medical reports from the past few months. I had just transferred from the DEO's desert facility, where I was one of the doctors there to help with any of the agents' injuries. After a long time there, I decided to transfer here when there was an opening for the lead doctor.

I thought it would be best to settle in by having a look at what severe cases had been dealt with recently. It was usually the same stuff – agents injured on field missions. Bullet wounds, broken bones, sprained muscles, thankfully nothing too severe. There hadn't been many major alien attacks which meant less risky field operations.

I was pulled from the reports when the red alarm light began to flash for a few seconds, accompanied by a siren, before turning off.

"Agent Y/L/N, Supergirl is incoming with J'onn," my radio went off – it was Director Danvers. "She's had a solar flare and got a gunshot wound."

I recalled what a solar flare was from research I'd done in Supergirl's medical records. That was something I prioritised when coming here, since we didn't have Supergirl at the other facility.

"I'm prepping a bed and equipment now," I replied through the radio, before hurrying to do that. J'onn could literally fly, he'd be here any minute.

With the help of some nurses who were around, I prepped a bed and had the solar energy panels on standby for when/if her powers came back sooner than we thought. I had the tools ready to bandage up her gunshot wound temporarily when both heroes appeared beside me.

J'onn was stood there, holding Supergirl bridal style and lowering her onto the bed.

"Still getting used to that," I mumbled, surprised at how he just sped in here.

"I said I'm– agh, I'm fine," Supergirl complained, clutching her bloody wound and trying to sit up. "My powers will come back."

I stepped by her bedside and pushed her back down gently, moving closer to inspect her wound. "Please stay still for a second."

"Listen to the doctor," J'onn teased to lighten the mood.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and stayed still. I removed her hand and noticed it was covered in blood.

"Can somebody come clean this up?" I called out to one of the nurses, motioning to her hand.

One of the nurses did as I asked as I took a look at her wound. The bullet was still in there by the looks of it.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to overwork yourself?!" Director Danvers' voice called out as she walked in.

She was glaring at Supergirl, though the worry in her eyes was evident as she took in the hero's appearance.

"It's barely a scratch, Alex, it'll heal," Supergirl said dismissively, but as I cleaned up the blood with a cloth, I saw her clench her jaw a little.

"You need to be careful, you're not indestructible," Alex reminded her, before looking to J'onn. "Can you believe her?"

J'onn chuckled. "I'll leave you both to it. I should get back." He glanced at me. "Good luck."

I nodded his way, offering a small smile as he walked away.

"As fun as it is watching you both glare at each other, I do need to remove the bullet," I spoke up, interrupting both girls' staring contest.

"Go for it," Supergirl said, her eyes meeting mine.

"With anaesthetic," Alex added, shooting another glare towards the blonde.

"I don't need anaesthetic," Supergirl countered with an eye-roll and scoff.

"You're human for the time being, remember?" Alex reminded her before looking to me. "Anaesthetic, please."

I bit my lower lip as they erupted into another argument about how I should proceed. I didn't know either of them well enough to cut in, so I stood there awkwardly, trying to stop the blood loss and planning out how I could temporarily bandage her up so it could heal itself when she gets her powers back.

"I have to go," Alex finally said, pulling me back into reality. "I have to check on the bank robbery." She didn't seem too happy leaving Supergirl here, but she gave her a knowing look before looking to me. "Please make sure she stays put?"

"You got it, Director," I said with a playful salute. How hard could it be to keep her here?

Alex gave Supergirl one last warning look before leaving us be. I looked to the blonde who was finally breathing out, letting her guard down a little now that it was just us.

"The anaesthetic will make it bearable, just so I can remove the bullet," I spoke, causing her to open her eyes and look at me. "I'm just gonna bandage you up temporarily and you'll heal yourself when you get your powers back. Shouldn't be more than a few days, according to your medical history."

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. "I've been through much worse. It's okay. Just remove it and bandage me up. The sooner I'm out of here, the better."

I was ready to argue, but she gave me a convincing look and I couldn't help but give in.

"Fine, but you stay here and rest," I reasoned, to which she gave me a small, cute smile.

I got to work and surprisingly, she managed. It went well and I managed to bandage her up quite quickly, though it did mean I had to cut into her suit a little. Better safe than sorry though.

"Okay, you're all done," I said, patting her arm supportively, before packing away the gauze. "I'm gonna go get you some water and then you should take it easy, stay here maybe until you get your powers back. That alright?"

She gave me a thumbs up and a promising smile. "You got it, doc."

I was fairly confident that she would listen to me, since she seemed polite and was a trooper throughout the whole thing. However, I soon realised how naive I had been when I returned and her bed was empty.

I facepalmed and shook my head, realising she'd definitely played along the whole time.

The first thing I did was look around the DEO, asking around if anyone had seen Supergirl. I eventually followed the commotion coming from the main hall and spotted both Supergirl and Director Danvers having an argument.

"...stay and rest! You can't keep ignoring simple instructions, Kara!" Alex shouted around her.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and continued to look at the tablet in her hand. I approached the two and cleared my throat loudly to get the blonde's attention.

When she noticed me, she gave me a sheepish smile. "Doctor Y/L/N. Heeeeeeey."

"One job, literally," Alex mumbled, giving me a knowing look, before storming off.

I breathed out and glared at Supergirl. "Are you serious? I asked you to stay put!"

She straightened up and spread her arms out for emphasis. "But I'm fine! See? Nothing hurts, I'm walking, it's all good! Job well done, I must say. You're new, right? Well, I know why you got the job!"

She avoided my glare as she walked around me to get to the other side of the desk.

"You've heard of the term 'first impressions count', haven't you?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She gave me a knowing look. "C'mon. You can't hate me for this."

I sighed. "I've got work to do. Call me if you tear your stitches."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned around and began to leave.

"I'm not gonna tear them!" I heard her call out from behind me, but I didn't care. I wasn't her parent, she could do what she wanted.

I wish I'd known I was dealing with a stubborn Super before accepting this job though.

–

"What a surprise," I said sarcastically.

A few hours later, I'd been called into one of the medical rooms because apparently, Supergirl had collapsed from blood loss and tore her stitches. Shocker.

"Is she going to be okay?" Alex asked as I got to work for the second time that day.

"Yeah, if she decides to listen to me this time," I said, sighing. "Is she always this stubborn?"

Alex clenched her jaw. "Unfortunately, yes... you think you can keep her here next time?"

"I'll give it my best shot," I promised her. "I'll call you when she's up?"

Alex nodded, patting me on the shoulder. "Thanks."

She left me to do my thing and this time I did things my way, the right way, with anaesthetic and IV fluid. I managed to sort out Supergirl's mess before going back to my office to fill out some more paperwork.

Some time passed when I found myself going back to check on Supergirl and see if she was awake. I was cleaning up a little around her side table when I heard her stir awake. She seemed confused at first, as she looked around and saw the tube coming from her arm. Eventually, realisation set in and she sank into her pillow.

I decided to stay quiet as I finished up, about to leave, but she stopped me.

"Wait," she called out. I paused as she continued, "I'm sorry."

I turned around and waited, watching as, unlike before, she wasn't joking or being unserious.

"I should have stayed put before. And listened to you. I didn't mean to offend you or come across as rude," she continued genuinely.

I crossed my arms and straightened up. "Well, Supergirl–"

"Kara," she interrupted. "It's Kara."

I nodded. "Okay, Kara. Yes, you probably should have listened. I redid your stitches and I'm asking you to stay put again. You're human for now and you need to act like one."

"You're right," she agreed, breathing out. "Sorry."

I realised that she seemed to mean it and at the end of the day, I was her doctor, so I couldn't hold a grudge. Instead, I went to her bedside and checked her monitors to see how she was doing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Tired. Achey. But better than before."

"That'll be the meds kicking in," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I did have to get in there twice."

Her cheeks went pink as she smiled with embarrassment. "I'm not used to being so..."

"Fragile?" I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "I'm not used to it and staying put isn't exactly my forte."

"I could tell," I joked, making her laugh a little. She had a nice laugh.

"About that first impressions thing..." she began, blue eyes holding mine nervously.

"It's nice to meet you for the first time, Kara," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm Y/N. Your doctor."

She cracked a smile, realising what I was doing. She shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, too, Y/N."

"Okay, I should go and get Alex," I said, backing up to leave. "Now please don't leave because Alex will kick my arse if you're not here when she comes back."

She laughed again. "I promise I'll be here when you return."

"Fingers crossed you're not playing me again," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

Her laughter seemed to follow me out the room, leaving me smiling to myself.