#okay so i’m having a sort of minor surgery tomorrow so i’m going to be inactive then + a couple days afterwards most likely for recovery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

Text

Cut Off (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead! Sister Imagine)

A/N Thank you for reading and don't forget to reblog and comment! Also, thank you so, so much for over 2k followers! And, sorry this one took so long! Also, the second half of this isn't proofread because I have to go to bed earlier than normal because I have to be at work at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I just wanted to get this one out to you guys since I haven't posted in a while. So, if you see errors in the second half, that's why.

TW for p*ostitution and r*pe.

Today was the day. It was the day you were finally going to tell your dad you didn't want to go into medicine...and the day you knew you'd probably be kicked out. Because, if Jay being kicked out and quickly enlisting in the army was any indication, the same thing would happen to you.

This hadn't happened to Will because he went to school to become a doctor. But, he moved to Chicago because he didn't enjoy being a plastic surgeon anymore, leaving you stranded in New York with your dad who was a workaholic doctor and only approved of his kids if they followed in his footsteps.

You didn't get it really. Your dad was a successful doctor; he didn't need to live vicariously through his children, yet here you were.

You took a deep breath.

"Dad," you started as you walked inside after your last class of the day. It was the last class of your freshman year actually and it was one of the rare afternoons that your dad wasn't working.

He looked up at you. "Yeah? How'd your exam go?"

"It went okay...I think." You pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down across from him.

"Well, hopefully, you did better than okay because they don't accept just anybody into med school."

Here goes nothing, you thought.

"Dad, I'm changing my major."

He furrowed his brow. "To what? Organic chemistry or anatomy instead of biology?"

"No, psychology." Maybe with a minor in English because you liked to write and read or maybe a minor in another language, too...but, he didn't need to know that.

"I'm sorry. I think I heard you wrong. I think you meant to say psychiatry and not psychology. And that's fine because you're still a doctor. You just have to make sure you get matched to a psychiatry residency after med school."

"No, I mean psychology. You know, sort of like social work, but with more schooling and a bit more science."

"I'd take more than just a second to think this through, young lady."

You stood up. "I have thought this through!" you yelled. You couldn't take it anymore. "I hate science and lab classes and I hate blood and I hate surgeries cause they're gross! I can't be like you and Will! I just can't!"

He stood up as well. "Then you'll have to be like Jay. Pack a bag. Get out of my house."

You knew that was coming, so you already had a bag packed upstairs and ready to go. So, you turned on your heels and went upstairs and grabbed it. Then, you grabbed your phone and phone charger, and your car keys.

"If I can't have a dad who respects and accepts my career choices, then I don't want one at all," you said sadly as you walked into the kitchen.

You'd prepared yourself for this, but it didn't mean it hurt any less.

"Give me your phone and keys," was all he said.

"Wh- what?" you faltered.

"You heard me. Give me your phone and keys. I pay for the data on your phone and the insurance on your car. Therefore, these two things are mine. And since you don't want me as your dad, I will take them from you."

You scoffed but handed them over anyway.

"Fine."

Then, you left. You'd just find another way to get in contact with Will and Jay and would have to take the bus from New York to Chicago instead of driving. Everything would be fine.

***

Six months later, you wished you wouldn't have changed your major. Then maybe you wouldn't be in this situation to begin with; it was all your fault.

God, it was cold. November in Chicago was no joke and it especially wasn't a joke when you lived in a homeless encampment. Your tent was full of things you had brought from home and somehow kept people from stealing, things such as your favorite stuffed animal. Or, things that you bought with what little money you had, such as hygiene items and a sleeping bag, a flashlight, a pillow, an extra blanket, and some cheap snacks.

You had tried getting a job, but with no address to put on the application and no way of contacting Jay or Will or figuring out where they worked to ask for help, you were shit out of luck on the job front.

So, with what little money you had saved in cash from in New York and brought with you, you rented a crappy motel room for a few days. But, when your money ran low two weeks later, you knew things would get worse.

That's when you did it for the first time.

You were in a diner, sipping at a cup of coffee and the cheapest food you could find on the menu when a man walked up to you and slid you his number. You must've looked like shit and that you were in desperate need of money because the writing on the napkin had his number and also said:

Call me tonight and then meet me. Will pay in cash.

You knew what this was implying, and in any other circumstance, there's no way you would've done it. But, you needed the money since you wouldn't be able to afford a place to sleep that night.

So, you called him off a payphone that night and he told you where to meet.

When you met him, he asked you what you were comfortable with and to name your price. You also always made sure to meet them in public places before going home with them just to keep yourself safe. You had made up excuses of having to go a few times because you had gotten bad vibes off someone and left since it was easy because you were in a public place.

Anyway, back to the first guy.

After he asked you your boundaries, pricing, and everything like that, the two of you went to a motel and you had sex with him for money.

Some would call you a prostitute.

You were just doing what you had to do.

After that night, you went and bought yourself a tent.

Then, the next night you walked the streets and waited. After a few more men, you went to the store and bought a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a change of clothes.

That next morning, you found a homeless encampment, where you started staying. The people were nice enough, but you still wished you could find Jay or Will. Despite the sex being meaningless, you didn't want this to be the rest of your life. But, at this point, you had all but given up hope.

It had been months of the same thing. Eat, sleep, sleep with men for money. Eat, sleep, sleep with men for money. Eat, sleep, maybe take a day off. Eat, sleep...

You wouldn't be in this position if you had just gone into the career that your dad wanted you to go into; one that you weren't passionate about.

You didn't think you'd ever get out.

If Jay and Will hadn't figured out you were gone from New York by now, you knew there was no way that they'd ever find out.

***

"I'm gonna go see Dad this week for Thanksgiving," Will said to his younger brother as they sipped their respective beers at Molly's on a Sunday night.

"Before you ask because I know you will," Jay started, "I'm not going."

"Why not?" Will asked. "You know I'm mainly going for Y/N anyway."

"I know that. It's just, you weren't cut off by Dad; you have a much better relationship with him than I do."

"You don't think I know that?"

Jay sighed. "Sorry, I'm sorry. It's been a long weekend. I feel like I haven't slept since Thursday."

"I know the feeling. Flu season in the ED is great," Will complained.

"I bet. Just, check on Y/N for me, will you? She hasn't talked to me in a while and she stopped posting on social media."

"Are you seriously stalking our sister?" Will laughed.

"Uh, when she's the only one living with Dad, yes, yes I am."

"I'll text you when I see her. Actually, she hasn't texted me in a while, either."

"She's fine. She's gotta be okay...right?"

"Jay, she's trying to go to med school. She might have taken summer classes earlier and now the semester's started up again. She's probably just busy with school and exams."

"You're right, you're right," Jay agreed. "Just, tell me how she's doing and maybe have her call me."

Jay couldn't put his finger on it, but he just had a bad feeling; you had never stayed out of contact with either of them for this long. Sure, the occasional two weeks would by without you talking to them, but it had been six months. And for Jay, no matter your workload in school, that was way too long. Something was wrong and he knew it.

He just had to hope that Will would tell him that you were safe and sound. Now he just had to wait. What were a few more days when it had been six months anyway?

***

Typically, most people loved the holidays. Once Halloween hit, it was all focused on the winter holidays. Halloween had candy and costumes, Thanksgiving had turkey and giving thanks, Christmas had presents and family, and New Year's had celebrations and champagne.

But for you, it wasn't nice and full of family for the first time in your life.

Since most people were with their families on Thanksgiving, you knew that tonight would be hard. You knew you probably wouldn't make the amount of money you wanted to this weekend since everyone was with their families. But, you needed money. So, you did what you had to do.

You wasted money on a skimpy little outfit a few days prior and put it on, a pair of skimpy shorts and a corset under the cheap coat from a thrift store and braved the cold November air.

Time for some more meaningless sex for money; so is your life.

***

Will walked into his childhood home and called out to his dad and you. He heard clambering down the steps and assumed it was you because you were always excited for whenever one of your brothers was coming home.

And, Will was excited, too. He hadn't seen you or talked to you in months and he had bought you some fancy highlighters to use in your textbooks. These were currently wrapped in wrapping paper and he was ready to give them to you and see your reaction.

But, when Will saw only his dad coming down the stairs, he became very confused. Granted, it was early Thursday morning, so he figured you might be at the library studying, but he was still shocked not to see you.

"Hey, Dad," Will greeted once his dad was downstairs and pulled him into a rare hug. When he pulled away he asked, "Where's Y/N? She at the library or something?"

He laughed. "Not since May she hasn't been."

Will furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean? She's been studying at home? She transferred schools?"

"Nope. Just didn't want to study medicine."

"What do you--" Will's eyes went wide as he realized what his dad was saying so nonchalantly. "You didn't cut her off. Tell me you didn't cut her off."

"She's been out of my house since late May."

Will wanted to strangle his dad. "You son of a bitch! I can't believe you!"

"Do not talk to me that way! I'm your father!"

"Some father!" Will scoffed. "First you kicked Jay out because he didn't want to go into medicine and now Y/N? A father doesn't make their love contingent on a career, Dad!"

"I still love her--"

"Like hell you do! Do you even know where she is?"

"Beats me."

"You fucking son of bitch!" Then, Will picked up his stuff.

"Where are you going?" his dad asked, clearly oblivious to why this was such an issue.

"No way in hell am I celebrating Thanksgiving with you! You know, you basically hate Jay and Y/N, so why don't you add me to that list, too, you old prick?"

"William--"

"Goodbye, Dad."

Then, Will walked outside. He hadn't even made it to his car when he dialed Jay's number.

"Hey," Jay answered. "Sick of Dad already?" he joked.

"He kicked Y/N out," Will said quickly as he unlocked his car and quickly got in.

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered as he continued putting the groceries away. Hailey said she and Jay should have a Thanksgiving dinner, so he quickly ran to the store to grab things that they hadn't been able to pick up earlier in the week. "That's why we haven't heard from her. Does he know where she is? Anything at all?"

"No, he hasn't seen her since May."

"May? And, how the hell are you so calm right now?" Jay yelled and grabbed his badge, gun, keys, and wallet.

"Because I already yelled at Dad and I'm driving so I can't really drive when I'm super angry unless you want me to crash into something! And, I'm gonna go find some homeless hot spots here, maybe check some shelters, maybe try and contact some of her friends. She could've stayed with one of them."

"Leave the contacting friends to me. I'm going to the district. Gonna talk to Platt and Voight and see what we can do."

"Okay, let me know what they say. I'll be looking at shelters and other places and I'll let you know if I find something." Will sighed. "We should've known something was wrong, Jay. We just should've fucking known."

"But we couldn't. There's no way we could've known, man. And the only way we can make up for that is to find her." Then, Jay hung up.

"Where are you going?" Hailey asked.

"To the district. C'mon. I'll explain on the way."

***

"Hey, Chuckles. Hey Goldilocks. Did Intelligence catch a case that didn't go through me first? Because I might have to talk to Voight about that," Trudy Platt's sassy self said as Jay and Hailey walked into the district the night of Thanksgiving.

"My sister," Jay said quickly. "She needs help. Call in Voight and the rest of the unit," Jay rushed out as he made his way over to the gate to get into Intelligence. He quickly scanned his hand and then ran up the stairs into the bullpen, taking them two at a time.

"Jay, what are you doing?" Hailey hissed as he sat down at his desk and immediately turned on the computer. "We need to wait for Voight."

"Hailey, I love you, and you know I want to do this the right way, but I can't wait. Run downstairs and grab Platt and have her come up here so I can explain and then she can sign off on me getting a warrant for Y/N's phone." He paused and looked directly at her. "Please," he added, his voice cracking.

"Okay," she answered softly, sensing how much pain he was in. "Be right back."

Not even a minute later, Platt was upstairs in the bullpen.

"What's going on?" she asked Jay as he continued typing on his computer.

"My dad, he uh, he kicked out my sister, Y/N in May and he hasn't heard from her since then and neither me nor Will has either. She's eighteen, Sarge. It's not safe out there for her with no money or family."

"Okay, Jay, what are you doing right now?" Trudy asked calmly.

"Typing up a warrant for Y/N's phone records and location."

"Jay, I know you're terrified right now and want to help," she began, "but I'm going to have Hailey do that. You need to tell me everything there is to know about her, places she might be, a recent photo of her--"

"Wait, you're handing this off to missing persons?"

"No, I'm not. I want to keep this as much in-house as you do, Halstead. But, if worst comes to worst and we have to hand it off, it's nice to have all the information. And, putting out a BOLO on her right away would be helpful."

"You're right, you're right. Sorry, Sarge," Jay apologized.

"It's okay, you're upset. Any other day it would most definitely not be okay. But today, I'll let it slide." Then, Voight walked into the bullpen. "Find a recent photo and write up everything that's important and you think we should know. I'll tell Voight."

***

A few hours later, Voight addressed the unit. "Forget about all the other cases," Voight said. He slapped a photo of you up on the whiteboard. "This is Jay's sister, Y/N Halstead, eighteen years old, went missing in May because her dad cut her off and kicked her out. She lived in New York, but since Jay lives here, it's possible she could have tried to get to Chicago. So, I'm looping in Lieutenant Benson of Special Victims in Manhanttan just in case worst comes to worst. And that means that we all have to be on our best behavior and do this by the book. If something happened to her and this goes to trial in New York, it needs to be air-tight. Got me?"

Everyone said a form of yes and they got to work. Voight and Platt got in touch with Lieutenant Olivia Benson in Manhattan, Jay told Will that some cops from New York might be coming to interview him, so it would be best to just go down to the Manhattan precinct that Voight was looping in and that a cop would be talking to their dad, too...just not to let him in on that. Hailey had gotten a judge to sign off on a warrant for your cell phone, so she was digging through old cell phone records of yours. Adam, Kevin, and Kim came into the district halfway through their Thanksgiving dinners (so partially stuffed) and started to work the case by asking Jay where he had taken you in Chicago and places you had mentioned before. Once they had that list, the three of them went out to go and look for you in those locations.

"You doing okay?" Hailey asked as she pulled her chair over to his desk, your phone records in her hand.

Jay scoffed. "No. I just- I can't believe he'd cut her off. Me, I can see because me and my dad didn't have the best relationship, to begin with, but...God, Hailey, this gonna sound incredibly sexist, but she's a girl; there's more danger if she's out in the world alone than if it were me. And, I went into the military and when I got back, I was older so it was easier for me to get on my feet." Granted, I did have PTSD, Jay thought...but, he didn't say that out loud. "I just need her to be safe. I won't be able to live with myself if she's..."

"Jay, I know you're scared, but you can't think like that. We're gonna find her...just, not by her phone records."

She passed him the phone records and he flipped through them, to the last time her phone was on and active.

May.

Your phone hadn't been active since May. And the last place it was active was Jay's childhood home in New York, the place where you had been living with your dad before he kicked you out.

"Son of a bitch," Jay muttered. Hailey looked at him and quirked an eyebrow upward, silently asking for an explanation. "My dad took her phone, too." He sat for a second and then an idea popped into his head and started frantically typing.

"What are you looking for?" Hailey asked.

"Metro card," he answered while still typing.

"Metro card?"

"She didn't get her license until seventeen because she still needed to get all her driving hours in. So, for her sixteenth birthday, I bought her a metro card. And she calls me if she needs more money on it. She got a car when she got her license, so there was still a balance on there."

"So, you're thinking it's possible that she used her metro card to get wherever she is?"

"Yeah. And if it ran out of money, I would've gotten a call or an email and I haven't gotten one of those."

"So it's possible she still has it and is using it," Hailey said as she realized what Jay was getting at.

"Exactly."

Jay hit a few more buttons and then up popped your metro card history.

"Sarge!" Jay yelled and he came out of his office. "I need you to call Lieutenant Benson and tell her we don't need her."

Voight cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"She took a train to Chicago shortly after her last cell phone ping. There hasn't been an email or phone call to me saying she's run out of money and there's no record of a trip from Chicago back to New York."

"So you're saying she's here?" Voight asked.

"She's somewhere here. We just have to find her."

***

Jay had called Will and he was currently on his way back from New York. The Special Victims Unit in Manhattan had told Voight to reach out if anything changed and they were needed again.

It had been over eighteen hours and there were still no leads on the case. It was nearing noon and Jay hadn't slept in over a day...neither had the rest of the unit. So, much to Jay's displeasure, Voight sent everyone home and told them to come back at the very earliest 6 pm.

"No way am I going to be able to sleep, Hailey," Jay groaned as he laid next to Hailey in bed, the blinds drawn to make it slightly darker in the mid-day sun.

"I get it," Hailey agreed. "Sleep doesn't come when you're stressed. But, you have to try. And, if you can't sleep by 3:00, then we can go out and look for her ourselves."

"You'd really do that? Voight said he didn't want us being reckless."

Hailey scoffed. "Like Voight's one not to be reckless." She paused. "And, I didn't say we were going to be reckless, I said we'd look for her. We'll just drive around and look for her, no recklessness involved. And, Platt sent out a BOLO on the city-wide so any officer who sees Y/N has to call it in."

"I don't trust uniforms," Jay grumbled.

"Jay, just try and get some rest. Can't have you hallucinating from lack of sleep."

"Haha, very funny, Hails. Very funny."

Then, he turned on his side and tried to sleep.

***

Fuck, it was cold. You were tired and were worried that you were starting to get a bad cold and the nearest corner store was a block away. But, you kept walking even though you desperately wanted to sit down on a bench and take a rest for a few minutes. You needed something warm to drink and maybe a snack. Then, you'd go back to your tent and sleep...well, sleep as much as you could since it was during the day and was never truly quiet. You were too scared to sleep at night, so you had trained your body to sleep during the day and stay awake during the night. And, this helped for your few times a week "work" hours, too.

You continued walking and eventually made it to the store. You grabbed a bag of chips and made yourself a hot tea.

Then, you made your way up to the counter to pay, but no one was there.

But, then you heard the sound of sirens and heard the bell above the door jingle.

Cops.

Shit.

***

Jay poured himself a cup of coffee and then scrolled through his phone. He wasn't scrolling through the news or social media, but rather scrolling through all of the old texts he and you had exchanged to see if there was something in there that would help him find you; someplace you had mentioned that he had thought nothing of at first like somewhere you might want to go to when you came to visit next.

But, he found nothing.

He began to fiddle with his police radio.

Hailey walked into the living room. "Thought I told you to get some sleep?"

"I did," Jay replied as he kept twisting the dial on the radio, listening to officers over the radio. "Two solid hours."

"Huh, I don't think so. But keep telling yourself that. You should really try to go back to sleep, Jay. We both should--"

"Shhh!" He abruptly cut her off and turned up the volume on his radio.

"Possible spotting of missing woman Y/N Halstead. Dispatch, notify the 21st district and Intelligence, and tell them that we are moving in."

"Copy. What is your location?"

Jay and Hailey were up and putting on their coats while they listened to Jay's radio with the location. Hailey grabbed her keys while Jay spoke into the radio.

"This is 5021 George and 5021 Henry. Hold us down on the Y/N Halstead case as plainclothes officers responding."

"Copy that 5021 George."

Jay had never thought of this like a case before now, but he guessed that was what it technically was.

***

Hailey sped down the streets of Chicago and to a small corner store. Jay jumped out before the car was even in park.

A few minutes earlier you were sure you were going to be arrested for prostitution. You had thought about dropping the tea and the bag of chips and making a run for it, but there was only one door out of the store that you knew of...and you didn't want to burn yourself by spilling scalding hot tea down yourself.

So, you were shocked when the officers asked who you were and then said that you weren't being arrested. But, all they said was for you to wait in the back of the car, which didn't exactly ease all your fears about having charges brought against you. But, it was cold and they were cops, so you obeyed and sat in the back of their patrol car. At least it had heat.

"Where is she?" Jay yelled. "She in the back?" he asked.

The officer nodded and Jay ripped the backseat door open.

You were so zoned out on trying to figure out what these officers wanted from you that you didn't even realize that cold air was now rushing into the patrol car and hitting your body.

That was until you heard a familiar voice.

"Y/N."

No, it couldn't be. It had been months; there's no way he would've been able to find you after all this time.

"Short Stack, it's me. It's Jay."

You turned your head, expecting it to be your deepest desires playing tricks on you, and you almost fell out of the seat when you saw that it was Jay. He was here and he was real.

"J-Jay?" you asked as you felt tears pool in your eyes. You never thought you'd see him or Will again and here he was.

"It's me."

Jay looked you over. You looked exhausted. You did have on a coat, but below that was just a skimpy tank top. You also had shorts on. He knew what this was--or rather, what it looked like--but he wasn't worried about that right now. He was worried about how thin and pale you were and your runny nose.

He looked at the officers. "You going to Med?"

"That was the plan," one answered.

"Mind if I ride with you?" he asked.

"Don't mind at all, Detective."

Jay nodded and then turned to Hailey. "Meet us at Med? And, can you loop in the unit and Will?"

Hailey smiled. "Copy that."

Jay sat next to you in the backseat on the way to Chicago Med. Since this wasn't technically an emergency because you weren't dying, there were no lights and sirens. Jay didn't try to initiate contact even though he so desperately wanted to. He knew you had been on your own for months and had no idea what you had endured, so he thought it was best to let you initiate the contact.

You reached out and fiddled with the badge that was around Jay's neck, just like you used to do with his dog tags right before he got deployed.

That was all the contact Jay needed.

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You relaxed into his touch.

"I thought you forgot about me," you whispered and ran your hands up and down your legs in some semblance of warming them.

Jay pulled away for a quick second and shed his jacket and then draped it over your legs. "Take it. It's cold out." Then, he wrapped his arm around you again and allowed you to use him as a pillow. "I could never forget about you. I'm just sorry it took so long."

***

"Jay, what are you doing here?" Maggie asked as you and Jay walked into the ED. You were walking a lot slower than Jay would've liked, and he could tell you were exhausted just by your pace.

"Maggie, this is my sister, Y/N--"

"What?"

"I'll explain later. Just, can she get checked out please?"

"Halstead?" Dylan Scott asked when he saw his former colleague.

"Scott?" Jay asked.

"You need a doc? I can take her if you want. Maggie?"

"Treatment four's open."

"Right this way," Dylan said and then led you and Jay into a treatment room.

You slowly got on the bed and laid Jay's jacket over your legs once more.

"Hey, I'm Doctor Scott," Dylan said as he pulled a stool over next to you and sat down. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N," you said. "How do you know my brother?"

"We went to the academy together. He's a hell of a cop."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "But you're a doctor."

Dylan smiled. "Sometimes, career changes are good. You gotta do what makes you happy."

Yeah, tell that to my dad, you thought to yourself.

You nodded and shivered.

"I'll have a nurse come to take your vitals while I go grab another blanket." He made eye contact with Jay.

"I gotta go call Will," Jay said. "Be right back, Short Stack."

"Okay." You nodded and Dylan and Jay left the room as a nurse entered to take your vitals.

Dylan brought Jay into the doctor's lounge. "Care to tell me what your sister's doing here? Because, depending on how old she is, I'm seeing very clear signs of neglect or an eating disorder based on her size. And, you know as well as I do that if it's the first option, that I have a legal obligation to call DCFS."

Jay sighed. "She's eighteen." He pointed to the coffee. "Do you mind?"

Dylan shook his head and sat down at the table. "Not at all."

"Thanks. I feel like I haven't slept in days."

Jay poured himself a cup of coffee and then sat down at the table across from Dylan.

"She's here because of my dad," he answered.

"So, it is abuse?" Dylan asked.

"Well, not exactly. She's been eighteen since April and she was going to school. She was going to become a doctor. But, my dad kicked her out. All I know is that she's probably been on the street since then."

"How'd she get here?"

"Took a train. Probably tried to find me or Will, but since our dad took her phone, that was basically impossible."

"And do you know if she was..." He trailed off. "Because by the look of her clothes..."

"I don't know. And, I don't want to push her if she is. Just, can you check every box with her? Who knows what she did this past half a year. Eye exam included."

Dylan looked confused at the last part. "Eye exam? Why?"

"She normally wears glasses because she's a bit nearsighted, but she wasn't wearing them. So, if she needs new glasses, I wanna know."

"Okay, but you do know that since she's eighteen, I have to tell her all the tests I'm doing and why. And if she refuses one of them, that I won't do it because she has full decision-making capacity?"

"I understand."

"I gotta get back. Feel free to stay in here to call Will."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Then, Dylan walked out of the room to go retrieve a blanket for you.

You looked up when Dr. Scott walked into the room with the blanket you asked for.

"Vitals look good. We'll have to check her weight, but that can be done later. Everything looks good except her lung sounds are a little wheezy," the nurse said.

"Thank you," Dylan said and the nurse handed your chart over to him and ducked out of the treatment room.

Dylan held the blanket out to you and you took it. "Thanks," you said.

"You're welcome. We'll probably have to get you into a gown soon, but we don't have to do that just yet." You nodded as you set the blanket over you and pulled it up to your chin. Dylan took a seat on the stool next to your bed. "Listen, Jay told me what happened. And, he and I would like to do a full workup. All the tests, all the pokes, and prods. I'll tell you which tests they are if they aren't standard because you have to give us permission to do those. We won't force you to do anything you don't want."

You nodded, then looked down. "He wants me to get an STD test, doesn't he?"

"He does." Your eyes widened. You didn't want to be poked and prodded down there! "All we have to do is test a blood sample, but if you don't want that test, we don't have to do that."

"It's not a pelvic exam?"

Dylan shook his head. "Nope. We just test the blood. You don't have to decide if you want it now, but I do have to run some standard blood panels, so just let me or a nurse know after your blood is drawn."

"Okay, thank you."

"Are you having any issues at the moment? The nurse said your lungs sound wheezy. Are you have difficulty breathing? Any coughing, sore throat, mucous build-up, fever, or headaches?"

"Just stuffy and my throat's a little scratchy and there's a lot of mucous." You paused. "And I'm tired."

Dylan nodded. "Understandable. Tell you what, I'll let you rest and I'll come back in a few hours to run some tests. Sound good?" You nodded. "Great. I think Jay's on his way back right now."

Jay walked in just as Dylan walked out. And, he wasn't alone. There was a blonde girl with him.

"Warming up?" Jay asked.

You shrugged. "A little."

"Good. I talked to Will. He's got a four-hour drive left and I'm adding two hours to that because of traffic, so he should meet us here at like 8:00." You nodded. "And this is Hailey. She's my partner at work and my girlfriend."

Your eyes widened. "Well, you two look cute together. Especially with the height difference."

"Shocked you can see that," Jay joked. Then, he looked at you with his serious face. "Y/N, I need to know, what happened to your glasses?" You looked down. "Hey, whatever happened, whatever you did, I promise you I won't be mad. I'm just glad you're here and that you're safe."

You swallowed and then cleared your throat to get the mucous out. "Um, someone stole my glasses."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Were you mugged? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, nothing like that. I just came back to my tent one day and they were gone."

Jay took a deep breath; he didn't know what to say. He knew what you meant when you said tent. So, Hailey picked up where Jay left off.

"You were living on the street?" Hailey asked and then took a small step towards you.

"Yeah," you practically whispered. You looked up at Jay. "I'm sorry. I tried to find you, but I didn't have a phone and--"

"No," Jay said and quickly shook his head. "None of this is your fault."

"I should've memorized your number or Will's number and not depend so much on my phone. Maybe then--" you let out a wail. "I was so scared! Every night, ev- every day!"

Jay kneeled down in front of you and gently grabbed your hand. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. You have me and Will and all our friends now. You're safe. You know we're always here for you, right? Even if it took us a bit, we'll always be there for you. You'll never be alone now."

You sniffled and wiped your tears. "You promise?"

"I promise. Now, get some sleep. When you wake up, Will will probably be back and he'll be mother-henning the living crap out of you."

***

"Is she hurt? Is she sick? Did they do a blood panel yet?" Will asked frantically as he entered the treatment room.

"Shh!" Jay said quickly. "She's sleeping." He looked to Hailey. "You mind staying in here while me and him talk in case she wakes up. Even though she doesn't really know you yet, I don't want her to be alone."

Hailey nodded and gave him a small smile. "Of course."

Jay and Will left the ED entirely and made their way to the cafeteria, each grabbing a sandwich and a large cup of coffee. Jay bought a sandwich and a large coffee to bring back to Hailey, too.

"Doctors say anything yet?" Will asked as he unwrapped his sandwich.

"They haven't done a blood panel yet," Jay answered as he stirred a packet of cream into his coffee. "Dylan said he'd let her sleep for a bit and then come back and do it. He's pretty good with patients."

"Well, he does work in Peds, so I'd hope so," Will informed his brother. Will sighed. "She looked pretty thin."

"Yeah." Jay paused, still reeling from what you had told him and Hailey a few hours ago. "She's been living on the street, in a tent. She said someone stole her glasses, too."

Will clenched his jaw. "I wish we would've known sooner."

"Yeah, me too."

They ate in silence for a few bites until Will spoke up again. "Where do we go from here? Like, is there a trial? Does one of us have to fill out paperwork since she'll be with us? And then there's the health insurance..."

"Whoa, slow down," Jay said. "And, there won't be a trial. She was eighteen when it happened, so you know as well as I do that the minute someone turns eighteen, their parents are no longer legally responsible for them."

"In this world, pretty damn hard to be on your feet at eighteen." Jay nodded in agreement. "I should've decked Dad when I had the chance."

"I don't have jurisdiction in New York, so I don't think that would've been a good idea."

"Why not? I know you'd have done the same thing."

"Because it'd be a hell of a lot harder for me to get you out of jail in New York than it would be to get you out of jail here in Chicago." Jay took a deep breath. "I think Y/N should come live with me."

"You came to that conclusion quickly," Will observed and then took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, well, me and Hailey just bought a new house and there's a spare bedroom. I'm pretty sure I can get her under my health insurance through CPD because, no offense, man, but their plan is definitely better than yours. And, our place is bigger than yours."

"Damn, you really thought this through. Proud of you, little brother."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to ask the question he knew he had to when he found out you were missing. And, he was dreading what the answer would be. "Do you know if she was sexually assaulted?"

Jay's voice got quieter as if he was afraid to even answer the question himself even though he didn't have an answer from you yet. "I don't know. By the looks of what she was wearing...well, she looked like some of the girls I've picked up for solicitation in the past. That's not to say that what she was wearing makes it so that she was turning tricks for sure though."

"Jay, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I have my suspicions. Think about it. She had no money, she was sleeping in a tent, she said her glasses got stolen. I don't know, man, something's just not adding up. I don't want it to be true, but..."

Will nodded, knowing what he was going to say. "If it is true you want to get her treatment, but you don't want to force her to tell us anything."

"Yeah. I asked Dylan to run an STD test, but he said that she has to agree to it."

"And then there's confidentiality, so it's not like he can tell us if she has an STD even if Y/N does agree to the test."

"Exactly."

"So, we just wait?" Will asked.

"That's all I can think to do right now. That and make sure she feels safe at mine and Hailey's house and make sure she's healthy."

"Well, hey, that's something me and you can make sure happens, right? And then, maybe when she's not in survival mode anymore, she'll open up to us."

"Yeah," Jay agreed. "I really hope you're right."

***

"Hey, kiddo," Will said as he and Jay walked back into the treatment room. "How are you feeling?"

"Warm," you said quietly and stretched your arms above your head.

"Glad to hear it. Dr. Scott said that you're feeling a little stuffy?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing. I've had worse." You quickly clamped your mouth shut, realizing what you had just said.

"When you were by yourself?" Will asked gently and crouched down next to your bed.

You nodded and looked down and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Can you maybe tell us about that?"

"Do I have to?"

"You don't have to, but it might help to talk about it."

You sighed. "It was just a really bad case of the flu and it's hard to take care of yourself when there's- when you have to go inside places to go- to go to the bathroom. It was humiliating." The tears began to fall and you wiped them away and looked at Will.

He immediately pulled you into a hug. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now. You're not alone. Let it out."

And so, you cried and clutched Will's shirt for the next half an hour. You cried at how your dad had kicked you out without even a second thought. You cried at how you only had yourself to depend on. You cried at you had to sleep with grown men just to survive and the pain and humiliation and shame that came with that. You cried at how disappointed you were for yourself. And, you cried with relief of your brothers finally finding you.

***

"Watch your step," Jay warned as you, Will, Jay, and Hailey walked across the parking lot of Jay and Hailey's apartment complex. "Lots of potholes in the parking lot that the city needs to fix."

"Okay," you answered and moved closer to Will and leaned into him, relishing in his warmth.

That's one thing that Dylan had told you: you'd be cold for a while until your weight increased. And, you'd have a weakened immune system until your weight increased, so fighting this cold would be harder...and you'd be colder than normal. Well, colder than you would've been last year at this time when you were living with your dad and hadn't been out on the streets, fighting to survive, and losing weight by no fault of your own in the process. He also told you that you didn't have any STDs (Thank God for forcing the johns to wear condoms if they wanted your services) and that your new glasses would be in, in about a week.

You made your way into the house and were hit with a warm gust of air immediately upon entering.

The heat was on.

"Welcome home," Jay said. "If you wanna change your clothes, Hailey said you could borrow some of hers until we go to the store or order stuff online."

"Uh, thanks. But can I, um, can I take a shower?"

"Of course," Jay said. "I can show you your room while Hailey grabs you some clothes. There's a bathroom right off of your room."

You nodded and followed Jay into what would now be deemed your bedroom. Hailey brought you some clothes a few minutes later and Jay told you that towels were in the cabinet and there should already be body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower and just to yell if you needed anything.

You started to shower.

At first, you made the water lukewarm and just stood under it; you didn't need it scalding hot...this time at least.

For the past six months, you had had two different shower routines (besides the beginning when you were staying in motels with the money you had brought with you because your shower routine was normal then).

The first routine was sneaking into the YMCA when the front desk person who scanned people's membership badges was busy. From there, you'd rush to the locker rooms with your backpack of clothes and toiletries and take a quick shower. Typically, you kept the water lukewarm so that you wouldn't get too tired and relaxed under the hot water because you knew you needed to hurry. You couldn't give them any reason to realize that you weren't a member and the faster you finished your shower and got out of the building, the better. You didn't think that they'd do anything about it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Because of this, you usually only took a five to eight minute shower and were usually out of the building in twenty minutes tops.

The other routine was after you had made some money in hotels.

Usually, after you were finished, you'd ask to shower and the men would typically flippantly agree and wave you over to the bathroom. This was when you'd make your showers scalding hot. You wanted to wash off all remnants of that night. So, you'd take one of the wash clothes and douse it in body wash and scrub. You'd scrub and scrub under the hot water until your skin looked red. Then, you'd quickly wash your hair and finish showering. But, you thought that by scrubbing and practically burning yourself with the shower water that you'd wash away everything from that night, that everything except the money he handed you would go down the drain of the shower. Sometimes, you wished that you'd shrink into the size of a water droplet and fit down that drain, too.

But, of course, that never happened.

You massaged some body wash into your skin and rinsed it off. You continued doing this over and over and then did the same thing with the shampoo, trying to wash everything about the past six months off your body and from your hair. Then, you turned up the heat of the water all the way and just stood under the showerhead, allowing the hottest water to pour over you.

You took a deep breath and finally allowed yourself to relax in a shower for the first time in a long time.

***

You didn't know how long you had been in the shower but soon heard Jay pounding on the door and calling your name.

"Y/N? You okay in there? You've been in the shower for an hour."

"I have? I'm getting out right now!"

"Take as much time as you want," Jay reassurred you. But, You quickly turned off the shower and dried yourself off and got out of the shower and changed into the clothes that Hailey let you borrow.

You wrapped your hair up in a towel and left the bathroom.

"Whoa!" Jay said when you stepped out of the bathroom two minutes after he had yelled to make sure that you were okay. "I didn't mean you had to get out right this second. You could've stayed in as long as you wanted."

"It's okay," you said, still holding your dirty clothes in your hand. "I don't wanna make your water bill go up that much. I'm sorry for taking such a long shower." You looked down at your feet.

"Hey, hey, no," Jay said quietly and soothingly. "You don't have to worry about that. You just need to focus on getting your strength and your weight back up."

"Are you sure? I can go get a job somewhere--"

"Y/N, I am dead serious. Now, do you want to go to mine and Hailey's favorite brunch spot? We can even invite Will because I know he'll be here soon after he gets home and showers, too."

"Uh, sure," you agreed. You didn't really want to go because you didn't want Jay to have to have spend more money on you when you knew he already was going to be paying for living expenses such as your food, shelter, and clothing.

When living on the street, that was one thing you realized: everything was a lot more expensive than you had previously thought.

"If you want to dry your hair, I can grab you Hailey's hairdryer out of our bathroom if you want? Wouldn't want your hair to turn into icicles."

You nodded and Jay went off to grab the hairdryer.

***

"This doesn't look like a restaurant," you said to Jay and Hailey as Jay parked the truck in front of a shoe store. Not that you could have seen that the name of the store had shoe in it until you were right up in front of it because your glasses hadn't come in yet.

"Because it's not. And, you're getting at least two pairs of shoes. Can't let your toes freeze off in these Chicago winters."

You looked down at your crappy Nike shoes that had gotten you through all this. He was right of course, there were holes in your shoes, but you hadn't wanted to ask him for new ones, so you just said nothing.

"I'm okay with just a new of tennis shoes," you mumbled.

"Nope. Boots and tennis shoes. If you take one step outside in tennis shoes in January, your foot will be soaked."

So, you reluctantly agreed and walked into the shoe store. You tried to just go for the cheapest ones, but Jay wasn't letting that happen. He handed you multiple pairs of Nike and Adidas shoes in your size while Hailey went to look for nice, fluffy pairs of boots for you to try on while you sat on the still and tried on all the tennis shoes.

"What about these?" you asked them when you tried on a pair of navy blue Adidas shoes with a pink Adidas logo on both sides.

Hailey nodded. "I like them. They're not too bulky that they would look weird with jeans or shorts either. Nice choice."

"Thanks." You looked up at Jay, waiting for him to voice his opinion.

"As long as you have shoes that fit right and keep your feet warm and are supportive, I don't care what they look like. That more your and Hailey's department."

"It is," Hailey started. "I mean look at his shoes." You looked down at Jay's black, beat-up boots he always wore. "The man needs new shoes!"

"Hey! For your information, I accidentally left my nicer pair in my work locker and instead brought these ones home," Jay argued.

"Okay, babe, keep telling yourself that."

You laughed. They were so happy together.

You got that pair of Adidas shoes and then a black pair of boots which were very fluffy and cozy inside, perfect for those harsh Chicago winters.

Now it was time for brunch.

***

You sat down next to Will in the booth at the restaurant and immediately started to fiddle with the gold chain with a cross charm that he always wore around his neck.

"You know," Will began, "I can just buy you a necklace like this one since you like mine so much."

You shook your head and stopped playing with the cross charm. "I like playing with other people's better." It reminded you that you weren't alone anymore.

Will looked at Jay and Jay shrugged from across the table. You had always bounced your leg as a kid--from general anxiety--but playing with other people's stuff was new for you.

Hailey laughed. "I think it's cute that she does that," she gushed.

Jay rolled his eyes. "Of course you would."

Then, the waitress came by and brought your menus. You scanned the drink selection, knowing that you were only going to get water anyway since you wouldn't have to pay for that. So, you seemed a bit out of place when Hailey and Jay both got coffee and Will got a latte.

When she walked away to let you look over the menu to figure out the rest of your order, Will spoke up.

"Y/N, they have really good hot chocolate here. It's got caramel in and whipped cream and more caramel on top."

"I'm okay with water," you said and then took a sip of your water for emphasis.

Jay and Will shared a look. Will wanted you to drink it because he knew it would be an easy way to get more calories in you, but Jay knew that the reason you weren't getting anything fancy was because of the price.

You scanned over the menu and looked at all the prices. You probably would end up getting the oatmeal with fruit since it was the cheapest thing.

The three of them started talking about what they were going to get and when it got to you, you said, "The oatmeal with fruit."

Jay sighed. "Y/N, I know you're worried that this is too expensive." You looked down and that was all the confirmation he needed. "But, me and Will have adult jobs, which means we can afford to do these things and we can take care of you until you get on your feet in a few years or decide you want to go off to college."

"Let us help you, kiddo," Will added. "Please."

"At least let me get the tip," you argued.

"No," Jay said quickly. He ran a hand over his face. "How much money do you have right now?"

"One hundred and fifty dollars," you mumbled.

"Okay." Jay thought for a moment. "How about we set you up a savings account and you put $100 in there and then you keep the extra $50 for random things you want to buy. But if you're with me or Will, we'll pay for your food and stuff like that if we go out anywhere. Sound like a plan?"

"I mean, I guess."

"Good. Now look over the menu and figure out what you actually want to get."

When the waitress came back, you ordered pancakes, and the two sides you chose were sausage and hash browns. She was about to leave, but Will quickly stopped her.

"And can she also get a medium caramel hot chocolate?" he asked.

"Of course," she said as she scribbled it down. "Good choice. That one's my favorite." Then, she walked off with your orders.

"Will, I didn't need--"

"Just consider it my treat, Y/N."

And so you did. And Will was right: that hot chocolate was pretty damn good.

***

One week later

"I come bearing--"

"Shhh!" Jay said quickly. "Y/N's sleeping!"

"Okay," Will whispered. "I brought her glasses. They came in today." He paused. "It's like 6:00. Why's she sleeping?"

"Poor kid can't sleep at night," Hailey answered.

"Well, I'm gonna go give these to her," Will determined, wanting to wake you up now so that you could sleep later tonight.

"Will--"

"Jay, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing."

Will entered your room and touched your shoulder while he whispered your name.

You were startled awake when someone touched your shoulder.

"Y/N, it's me. It's just Will," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to scare you." He flicked on your lamp and held something out to you. "Your glasses came in."

You opened the white case and popped the pink and white glasses on. "I can--" You cleared the mucous from your throat. "I can see again. Thanks." And then, you started coughing.

Will furrowed his eyebrows and squatted down so he'd be eye-level with you since you were still sitting in bed. "You getting sick, kiddo?"

Will took in your appearance. You had giant bags under your eyes despite having a roof over your head and knowing that you were safe now. Your voice had been scratchy when you talked and you sounded like you were all stuffed up with mucous. The area below your nose was red and raw, which Will assumed was from you blowing your nose a ton.

You shrugged. You knew you were getting a really bad cold--and it didn't help that you weren't sleeping very much--, but didn't want to be a burden and worry your brothers and Hailey.

Will put the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel warm, but I'd feel much better if you'd give me some symptoms so I can help you. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah." You paused. "My nose is stuffy and my throat is sore and scratchy," you answered.

Will nodded. "Okay. And, does right here hurt?" He touched either side of his head at his temples. "Or here?" He touched the area below his eyes where his sinuses were located.

"Here," you answered as you touched the area below your eyes.

"Okay, it's possible you have a sinus infection. But, it's nothing to worry about; it should go away on its own. But for now, I want you to take a warm shower if you're up to it. The steam should help clear you out a bit."

"Okay," you said and stood up and grabbed a change of clothes.

Earlier in the week, you and Hailey had gone shopping and you had gotten some clothes. Jay had met you at the mall later to get you a phone, too. You had protested and said you really didn't need one, but he said he couldn't risk you going missing again. And, he needed an upgrade anyway. So, both you and Jay had gotten new phones that day.

You got in the shower while Will went to talk with Jay and Hailey.

"You do know she's sick, right?" Will started as he stood in front of the tv to make sure that he had Jay's full attention and he couldn't keep walking the sportscasters talk about the Blackhawks pre-game show.

Jay turned off the tv. The pre-game wasn't that important anyway. "She's sick? I thought she just had a cold."

"She does, but I think it turned into a sinus infection," Will said.

"Don't you need antibiotics for that?"

"No, she just needs to rest and her body will heal on its own. She can use a nasal decongestant, but not for more than three days at a time or else it'll clog up her nose even more."

"So that's it?" Jay asked. "We can't do anything else?"

"Besides sleep and making sure she's eating and drinking enough water, that's about it."

"Would soup help?" Hailey piped up.

"Well, she said her throat's sore and scratchy, so it might help to have something go down easy, yeah," Will answered.

"Okay, then it's settled. I'm making chicken noodle soup for dinner."

"I hope you don't always make her cook dinner, Jay," Will said. "Mom definitely taught us better than that...even though she basically cooked for Dad every night."

Jay rolled his eyes. "We both cook, man. She just happens to have the better chicken noodle soup recipe."

"In that case, I'll be staying for dinner."

"Will! You can't just invite yourself to stay for dinner! You know that's not how it works!"

Hailey laughed. "Jay, it's fine. I don't mind cooking a little extra."

Twenty minutes later, you walked into the living room in a pair of sweatpants, fuzzy socks, a t-shirt, and a bathrobe tied around you.

"Shower help?" Will asked.

You shrugged. "A little. Where's Hailey?"

"She's in the kitchen making chicken noodle soup for dinner," Jay answered. "It's amazing; you'll love it. She even uses those bow tie noodles you really like."

You smiled. "Sounds good."

"Now that you can see the puck on tv," Jay started, "wanna watch the Blackhawks game?"

"Sure. Turned from a Rangers fan into a Hawks fan now, did both of you?"

"No. I still prefer the Rangers, but you only get so many out-of-market games. The Hawks are our backup team in case the Rangers don't get into the playoffs. Right, Will?"

"He's right. I'm gonna go get you some water before we start the game," Will added. "Gotta keep you hydrated."

***

It was currently nearing two in the morning and you had been trying to sleep since 10 pm because you were so, so tired. The combination of little sleep and having a sinus infection really made you utterly exhausted.

You got up from bed and grabbed your water bottle. Then, you made your way into the kitchen and turned on a light. Maybe eating more soup would help you feel sleepy since it was warm.

That's exactly what you did, ate soup at the kitchen table at 1:47 in the morning. But, after you finished it and sat at the table and let your mind wander for ten more minutes, you still weren't tired.

So, you put your bowl in the sink and turned off the light. Then, you made your way to the living room and turned on a lamp. You grabbed a blanket from the chest in the corner and set it on the couch. Then, you made your way over to the bookshelf that was set up against the wall of the living room that was closest to the hallway that led to your bedroom and Jay and Hailey's bedroom.

You scanned the selection of books and grabbed one that you thought might be slightly interesting and then sat down on the couch. You curled up into the blanket and began to read.

***

Jay woke up an hour later to grab a glass of water and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw a light on in the living room. He knew that it wasn't a robber or anything like that because he knew that they wouldn't turn on the lights in a house they were trying to rob. But, he was still shocked to see you sitting on the couch, reading, with a blanket lying across your legs.

"Short Stack?" Jay said quietly. You jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Couldn't sleep?" You nodded your head. "Are feeling worse than earlier?" You shook your head again.

Jay sat down next to you and gently pulled the book from your hands and dog-eared the page you had ended on.

"What's going on, Y/N? Please tell me."

"You'll think it's stupid," you whispered.

"I promise you that I won't. Please. Not sleeping isn't good for you and I know that first hand having to be up all the time for my job. I don't want you going through the rest of your life half alive because of sleep deprivation. So just, please, talk to me."

"I can't sleep," you answered simply.

"I know that. Maybe you could tell me why you can't sleep and I can try and help?"

"You wouldn't understand," you muttered.

"Try me."

You sighed. He really wasn't going to give up. "It's too quiet."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "And that's why you can't sleep?"

"Yeah. I know I have a fan and all, but I was so used to hearing people talk and cars honking and everything when I was, you know..." you trailed off You hated saying when I was homeless because that just made it real.

"When you were living on the streets?" Jay asked.

"Yeah. And, I had to be alert all the time, so when it's quiet now, I hear everything...and I hate it. I hate it so much, Jay."

Jay nodded. "Believe it or not, I get it."

"How would you get it?"

Normally, Jay wouldn't appreciate your tone, but seeing as you weren't feeling good, were tired, and your anxiety was on high alert, he let it slide. He had enough practice with keeping his cool anyway that it came to him naturally.

"When I came home from Afghanistan," he began, "I couldn't sleep in silence either. I was so used to hearing people talking or uh..."

"Gunfire," you said.

"Yeah, uh, that. But I was so used to it that I couldn't sleep in silence. I did what you're doing now: used a fan."

"Did it work?" you asked.

Jay chuckled. "No. Not one bit. But, I started playing the tv in the background along with the fan and it worked."

"It did?"

"It did," he confirmed.

You sat in silence for a beat. "What did you watch?"

"Dumb stuff. Mainly Nick at Nite because I knew I wouldn't have to focus on those shows." He paused. "You wanna give it a try?"

"I don't have a tv in my room," you pointed out.

"Well, we can always move your nightstand and put it at the foot of your bed and put my laptop on it. What do you say?"

"I guess it's worth a try."

Jay smiled. "Okay. I'll grab my laptop and meet you in your room."

So, that night, Jay made sure Netflix was on auto-play while Friends played.

You finally got some sleep.

***

Two weeks later

Christmas was in a week and a half. There was a Christmas tree up in your living room and Hailey would always light Christmas-scented candles like pine or sugar cookie candles.

When Jay and Hailey were at work, you'd always cook dinner and clean the house. You figured since you couldn't pay rent or help with groceries or other living expenses that you could at least do this.

But, you still felt like a burden.

You wanted to be able to give Jay rent money and wanted to be able to give Jay, Hailey, and Will Christmas gifts (and give Will a little extra money because of all the money he probably pitched in to help Jay get you clothes and decor for your room and a phone).

You knew what you had to do.

You put on the tightest dress you had and the heels you still had from when Jay found you that morning, slipped on your coat, and then tip-toed out of the house.

Off to do what you never thought you'd do again.

But, it wasn't that bad; it was just sex; it didn't mean anything to you anymore.

***

Hailey poured herself a cup of coffee while Jay was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and getting dressed for work when she heard the door open. She whipped around. She had no idea who would be here at this time.

"Y/N, what were you--" But then she took in your appearance. Your eyes were red and puffy and she was certain there was a bruise forming on your right eye and there were small cuts littering your legs and a few on your face. In your hand, you held your glasses, which had one temple and one lens missing the other lens was cracked. "Jay! Call your brother! Now!"

You heard the sound of something being spit out and then a shirtless Jay ran into the kitchen, remnants of toothpaste still around his mouth. "What? Why?" His eyes widened when he saw you. "Y/N, oh my God!"

Then, he quickly called Will while still looking at you. Hailey grabbed you a blanket and wrapped it around you.

"Jay, grab a shirt so we can get to Med! Me and Y/N are gonna get in my car!" Hailey yelled.

Jay nodded and then turned around and sprinted off to his and Hailey's room to grab a shirt.

"Y/N, listen to me. We're going to Med to get you checked out. It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay," Hailey reassured you.

It was as if your body was on autopilot. You followed her to her car, but you weren't really aware of it. But, you knew you needed to tell her.

"I- I'm bleeding."

"Okay, okay. Can you tell me where?"

You quickly shook your head.

Jay jumped into the passenger side, still on the phone with Will, but you were barely listening to their conversation.

"She said she's bleeding, tell him that," Hailey said while she sped off to Med, lights, and sirens on.

"She's bleeding," Jay repeated into the phone. There was a pause and then, "Where?"

"She didn't say," Hailey answered.

Jay turned his head to try and face you as much as was possible from the passenger seat. "Y/N, we need to know where the bleeding is coming from."

You shook your head again.

"It's okay. We just need to know. We won't make fun of you."

You shook your head again.

"It- It hurts," you whimpered.

"What hurts? Where does it hurt, Short Stack?"

"It hurts to- to sit down."

Jay swallowed and his voice cracked when he said, "Possible anal or vaginal trauma."

***

You went through all the pokes and prods and the rape kit. You didn't even flinch once. But, what scared you the most was when Jay, Will, and Hailey came into the room once everything was finished.

"What happened?" Will whispered with sadness lacing his voice and eyes.

"I can't- I can't tell you," you whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because it's my fault," you said a little louder while looking down at your hands.

"None of this is your fault. None of it, you hear me?"

"But it is!" you yelled, catching all three of them off guard. "I told them my boundaries and my price and they didn't care! I told them condoms! I told them no anal! They tied me up and broke my glasses and cut me with the glass and they hit me and- and--" You cut yourself off with a scream.

"Hailey, can you stay with Y/N?" Jay asked. "I need to go talk with Will." He turned his gaze to Will. "Will. Outside. Now."

Jay and Will left the room and Hailey pulled a chair next up next to the hospital bed you were currently lying in.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Hailey asked gently.

"No, you'll arrest me if I do."

Hailey sighed. "No, I won't. I promise I won't. I just want you to be able to talk about it and tell us what happened so that we can help you."

"But what I did was illegal."

"Okay, if you won't tell me what happened, then can you at least tell me why you did it?"

You closed your eyes, nodded, and then opened your eyes. "Can we wait until Jay and Will get back? I don't wanna have to explain it twice."

"Yeah, yeah, we can do that."

While you were having that conversation with Hailey, Jay and Will were across the hospital having their own conversation. And Will was not having it.

"What do you mean we can't press charges?" he yelled. "Do you not see her injuries?"

"I see them, Will. But, you heard what she said! She told them prices! If we went to any other cops besides my unit on this one, they'd charge her with solicitation!" Jay argued.

"Then go to your unit! Have them find the bastards that did this to her!"

"It's not that simple! We'd need to find the guys and she doesn't have names and she probably barely has a description. Where she was, there probably were no security cameras. And, not to mention, if this goes to trial, the jury probably won't believe her because she was essentially prostituting herself!"

"Fucking hell," Will muttered. "So, what do we do."

"We do what we always do. Help her get through it."

***

Twelve Years Later

"And did they?" the eighteen-year-old girl asked as you sat next to her hospital bed. "Did they help you get through it?"

You nodded. "They most certainly did."

"Did you tell them why you did it?"

"I did," you answered.

"Were they mad?"

"Not at all. They made me feel better actually. They reassured me that I wasn't a burden and then a few months later I got a job and then decided to go back to school for social work. So, I know you've probably had other people say they get it, but I actually do. I'm not just saying that."

"Thank you," she said, "for telling me all that. A lot of people, when I was in the system, just treated me like another case." She paused. "Did they ever catch the men that did that to you?"

You sighed. "Unfortunately no."

"Then how do you know they'll find mine? That I won't go to jail? You said you'd help me!"

"I know, I know and I will. My brother, Jay,--the one who was a cop--is now the sergeant of his unit. And, when I bring these cases to him, he makes them a priority and he's never arrested the girls, only the pimps and johns," you answered calmly.

"You promise he won't arrest me?"

"I promise. Do you want me to call him so we can start pressing charges?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay." You grabbed one of your business cards and handed it to her. "My office number is on here and so is my personal cell phone number. Feel free to call me if you need to. And, I can recommend some good therapists to you later if you want me to."

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." You were almost out of the room when you remembered something. "Oh, and if you're still in the hospital and can't get ahold of me on either number, see that red-headed doctor over there?" She nodded. "That's my brother, Will. Just ask him to call me."

"I will. Thank you again."

You walked out of the room to see Will smirking at you. "You know, one day getting too close to your patients is going to bite you in the ass, right, kiddo?"

"One, they're called clients, not patients in my field. And two, I'm thirty years old! Stop calling me kiddo!"

"You're still younger than me. Therefore, you're still a kid." He looked at his watch. "Shit. Gotta go. Meetings never wait when you're chief of the ED!"

You waved your hand flippantly. "Yeah, yeah, get going. Make sure you keep me updated as much as you can on her case though."

"You know I always do."

He ran off to whatever meeting he had to go to while you went to find a secluded spot in the hospital.

Once you found a good spot, you pulled out your phone and dialed an all-too-familiar number.

"Halstead," he answered.

"For the love of God, I know you have caller ID, just answer it as Jay," you joked.

"I just like messing with you. What's up?"

"I've got another case for you."

"Christ, that's the second one this week."

"Well, this one got pimped out, too and by what she told me, it could be the same guy."

"Any mention of underage girls?"

"She didn't mention it, but this one's newly eighteen, so I'm assuming he or they or whoever it is, are running underage girls."

"Okay," Jay said. "This will actually be a full-on Intelligence case; not just one me, Hailey, Adam, Kim, and Kevin figure out and send patrol to pick them up." He paused. "Wanna be in the room when we talk to her?"

"Please. I told her my story and I think she trusts me."

"I told you that you couldn't let that define you. And look at you now, giving these girls hope."

"Yeah," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face. "Look at me now."

A/N: Thanks for reading and Sorry, this one took so long to get out to you! Please remember to reblog and comment! If you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

330 notes · View notes

hrina · 4 years ago

Text

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

#be sweet #harry writing #lmao you can tell i've given up on posting my writing on tumblr cus i don't even tag it with the typical fic tags anymore 😭

204 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Perfect Imperfections

Sam WIlson One Shot

Summary- 2.7k Sam Wilson x Reader. After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Needle use, mentions of skin imperfections, sexual moments. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- This is written for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge. As soon as I saw this challenge, I knew the topic I wanted to tackle with this. Thank you for such a wonderful challenge to participate in. Much Love always babes.

Sam Masterlist

“I have what?” You cringe at the name, it's a long complicated name that ties up your tongue when you try to repeat it, the doctor gives a knowing smile in sympathy.

“Hidradenitis Suppurativa, or HS.” He offered a simpler option for you, maybe one that wasn't so intimidating to say.

“And how do I treat it?” You question nervously, what horror was it going to be? Some sort of surgery, endless medications, injections, or worse… would he tell you there was nothing to do but live with it.

You were tired of living with it, you had the scars left over and really didn't want anymore.

“I’m going to write you a prescription, some antibiotics and an injection that you will need every week.”

Your heart lifted a bit when he filled out the email, sending it to your pharmacy. “Thank you.” you said with some relief that there was a solution to treating it. But nothing could take away what its already left behind.

All your life you lived with these small sores that just came out of nowhere in the worst spots; inside of your thighs, under your breasts, under your arms. All these years you had been embarrassed to go to a doctor about them. But Sam finally convinced you to go when he saw you in pain and refused to let him come near you because they made you feel disgusting.

That was the hardest part of it, was feeling you were hideous when you had someone like Sam who swore up and down every day that you were beautiful and tried so hard to prove it to you. Little text messages throughout the day, a surprise note stuck to the bathroom mirror for you to find, date nights out walking along the street with his arm around you and constantly whispering in your ear how he had the prettiest girl in town. All little things that he was persistent on, and sometimes they even worked. You would feel that shame lifting and your smile brightening for him.

He would wink and press a kiss to your forehead in these moments. “That’s my girl.”

Now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with the injection pen, your hand shaking slightly from the nerves. Earlier a nurse had shown you how to use it, and what to expect.

But stabbing yourself was a different story then letting someone else do it. Your fear was getting the best of you and you had to set the injection pen aside.

You drew in a ragged breath now that you were no longer holding the offending item, scolding yourself for not being able to do something so simple.

Something your body needed desperately, cause maybe the flare ups wouldn't be so bad, you wouldn't be embarrassed to let Sam see you like he wanted, less pain. All of it could be better if you could get past this point.

You never heard Sam come down the hallway towards your bedroom and happened to see you push away the injection, curl up on yourself on the bed. More then anything he wanted to take all of that pain and insecurity away from you, cause damn you were unlike anyone hes dated before. Sweeter then his grandma’s sweet tea, he could just bask in your glow that you brought to a room. Your laughter never failed to catch his attention from across a room and when you would set your sight on him, give that soft affectionate smile. Oh he was done. You made him feel like the only one in the room.

And that was just the minor stuff. Everything in his building relationship with you settled in him as it all being so right, Sam was finding he wanted nothing more then to keep building a life with you. So these moments tore him because he just wanted to fix it for you.

Sam gave a soft knock on the door frame before stepping into the bedroom. “Hey Sugar, you alright?” You rubbed at your face as the bed dipped from Sam sitting next to you and he grasped the injection pen, rolling it lightly in his fingers.

“Yes…” You lied at first and Sam gave you a look, an arch of his brow that asked for the truth. “No. Im supposed to inject that and fuck it, my hand wont stop shaking just thinking about it.” You grasped your hands together and held them still.

Sam rolled the injection in his own hands and tilted his head towards you, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “Would you like me to give it to you?”

You cringed a bit, not that you didn't trust him, you trusted Sam immensely. You trusted him more everyday that you two were together. Sam was your strength, the one you leaned on.

But you haven't been able to give up your body issues. That was something you were still scared to death for him to see. So much you wouldn't even let him see you completely naked in the light. Every night you would scramble to darken the room before settling into bed for the night. The horrible scars between your thighs that prevented you from wearing shorts or short skirts, the flare ups that shamed you till you would hide away making some lame excuse why you couldn't go out. Now this, having to take the shot made you squirm a bit to top all the other stuff.

Sam tilted his head to brush his lips to your shoulder, trying to ease you. “If you want, I can give it to you. My Gram used to have me help her once in a while with her diabetes injections. You have a trained professional right here.” He tried putting you at ease, getting you through your uncomfortable feelings, but you pulled away a bit more.

“No, it's not entirely that Sam.” You twisted your fingers together, looking down. “It’s-uhh- fuck. It's complicated.”

He frowned a bit, setting the injection aside and reached his hand to cover yours, tugging lightly till your fingers weaved with his. “Well then let's uncomplicate it Y/N.”

You lifted your gaze to look at him, this man who had the softest brown eyes and a smile that made your insides melt with just a few words, you felt silly, guilty and like a disappointment admitting anything out loud.

“Me, I'm a mess. I will always have to do these shots, my body is going to have these issues whenever it feels like, I hate looking like this, I'm so scared to let you see me…” You dropped it all, Sam’s hand giving slight squeezes and when your voice started to crack, your words getting ahead of thoughts so they were all a rush, he reached to twist you to face him, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs sweeping sway at some of those tears tracking down your face.

“Oh Sugar, if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be worried about what I see anymore. Your stunning, fucking beautiful baby and I’m more then happy to remind you everyday.”

“You don’t know Sam, it's so ugly…” You started and he let his forehead lean against yours to calm you. You felt his hands slide around you and yours eased around him, breathe in, breathe out, let your mind stop racing.

“You don’t have to show me today, or tomorrow. Never if you are never okay with it. It's not going to change what I feel and know. So I will remind you everyday that you are the most beautiful woman to me. You love me flaws and all after all.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, scoffing. “You make it easy Sam.”

Winking at you, he slid his hands up and down your back while he eased away. “And you don’t? Sugar, you are so good to me that Sarah already told me I would be a fool to let you get away.” You could feel yourself loosening in his hold, your own arms circling up around his neck to press against him, each hugging one another. You could feel soft presses of his lips to your neck, squeezing you a bit closer. “And I agree.”

You giggled softly, nuzzling in against him and letting his strong feel and warmth wash over you. Hints of warm cedar and sandalwood tickled your nose, and suddenly everything was just better. You pulled away with a gentle “Thank You Handsome”

“Anytime Baby… now... “ He picked up the injection one more time and dragged his teeth against his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “We don’t have to rush with anything until you are ready. But this…” He tapped the pen against his fingers. “Will you let me help you with it?”

You nodded and he moved to kneel in front of you, heavy palms rubbing against the top of your jean clad thighs as you moved your shirt up over your belly.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.” You say shakily and Sam smiles that reassuring one of his that makes you feel at ease.

“Don’t you worry Sugar, I got you.” He was gentle when he pinched a bit of your skin and pressed the pen to the area. You started shivering, your breathing caught. “Hey, look at me, m’kay?” It took a moment to pry your eyes away from the pen to his warm eyes. “Not gonna hurt, I promise.”

Then there was a loud click and you jumped more in surprise at the sudden noise than anything. A slight sting was soon erased with giddiness that it was over and he was pulling the now emptied pen away from your belly. You sagged slightly in relief and Sam pushed himself up, gripping your chin gently and pressing an affectionate kiss to your mouth.

“Told you Sugar, I got you.”

Couple Months Later

You and Sam were messing around on the couch, your head laughing as he hovered over you, he was belting out a very off key rendition of Barry White’s Your Sweetness Is My Weakness while skimming fingers along your sides under your tank top and kissing down your neck. Your hands rubbed over his head to fist in the back of his shirt and tug it over his head, discarding it over the back of the cough. His own rucking your tank top over your head and leaning back on his thighs, whistling at you all stretched out before him on the couch, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “Hey, none of that. Fuck Sugar, you are so damn fine.” that last word hissed from between his teeth as his eyes dripped molten warmth, flaring in the pit of your belly.

You peeked at him from between your fingers and arched slightly to reach behind you, unsnapping your bra and he eased it down, giving a groan.

A very appreciative groan. The groan of a man who saw something he really wanted.

His mouth landed on you as well as his hands, roaming supple soft curves and tasting your sweet skin, like a collection of honey dew salt on his tongue. A nipple swirled around his tongue with a hum that was like a jolt to your system.

Lacing your veins with desire, you felt the mindless buzz of worries start to fade to the background while you enjoyed the sensations he built in you. Now and then you would catch sight of his gaze flickering upwards to you, a check in that you were okay with how this was progressing. Your body had a mind of its own, clearly aware of how to roll under his hands, enabling him to shift you further down the couch till he was inching to a kneel between your spread thighs. His hands slipped over your hips to hook his fingers in the band of your shorts, your hips arched for him to drag them away, but that is where Sam stopped. You gave an impatient whine and flickered your gaze up at him. A slight sheen of sweat coasted across his broad tensed chest, every part of him held back with anticipation, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why Sam stopped right here.

“This is what you want, Sugar? Are you okay with this?”

Then it occurred to you he was giving you the option to say no. Some of those anxieties started to drift back, your fingers twisting together as you spiraled away from the moment. You wished he just kept going, not giving you the option. But that wasn't who Sam was.

It was now or never, and your resolve settled in you, almost a comfort that you were taking this step with him. A nod made Sam drag his teeth across his bottom lip, taking your confirmation to continue.

You squeezed your eyes shut while your shorts came off, and you felt the familiar calloused hands sweep along the inside of your thighs and spread you open wider, a soft gasp from him making your eyes shoot open in fear, was he repulsed by the scars?! You knew you should have never let it get this far. Everything in you was afraid to look and see his reaction, just picturing his handsome face looking at you in disgust.

What you saw was anything but, Sam looked you up and down with nothing but lust in his eyes and an appreciative groan as he let his thumb trace along your slit, spreading your lips apart. “Y/N, you are absolutely beautiful Sugar, and all for me? What a gift.”

You hovered at the pool side bar while Natasha mixed together a luscious fruity drink, anyone who said these drinks were “girly” simply didn't know. The amount of liquor she mixed with vibrant syrups till you had a tropical blue concoction would get you buzzed faster than any one shot of liquor could. It was just what you wanted. An explosion of fruit on your tongue that would leave you feeling good. When she handed it over, you sipped from the frosty edge with an appreciative hum. “Mmhh, perfect.” You praise while she wedged on a pineapple slice to the brim.

“I know, you are telling me nothing new Y/N.” She teased while she whipped up her own, the red head sauntering out from behind the bar with her own drink, the two of you approaching the pool side to sit in the warm sunshine. Natasha settled in one lounger, stretching herself out with another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

You spread a towel out and then unwrapped your cover to let your two piece bikini be revealed, no longer hiding yourself away.

You felt no more shame in the scars inside your thighs, the dimpling of skin where sore have healed over and over. Sam had helped you chase those fears away over time and now when you applied your sunscreen, you looked over your shoulder to see Sam strolling along the pools edge, his eyes all over you with a wide grin. Making his way over to you two, his hand sweeping around you to grasp your sunscreen bottle while kissing your shoulder. “Let me Sugar... “ He brushed his nose against your neck while moving to sit in the other seat, scooting closer to spread the sunscreen across your shoulders. “You look fantastic by the way. Is this a new swimsuit?”

You hummed while tilting your head forward, popping a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but it was the first time you had worn a swimsuit out in public in longer than you could remember. You felt his arms circle your mid section, pulling you back into his set so you could lounge back against his chest, your legs weaved through his.

“Brand new Sam, do you like it?”

He growled lightly against your ear while nipping your earlobe, whispering against the shell of your ear while he flushed playful kisses to that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Very much so, good luck stopping me from peeling you from it later.”

Playful touches and heated kisses made you feel just like his queen in the summertime sunshine, unable to keep his affections to himself.

#dibspositivitychallenge #sam wilson x reader #bodypositivity #tw hs #tw skin condition #tw needles #amber writes #sweater writes

129 notes · View notes

peralta-guaranteed · 4 years ago

Note

hc of jake and amy hand holding before dating (i’m convinced they did a few times before they ever dated) and also in the beginning of their relationship + getting teased by the squad 🥰

(this has definitely turned out far more emotional than you’d probably thought, anon, but I don’t make the rules when it comes to fic inspiration)

Amy Santiago is sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of her friends has said, and she feels a warm hand slip into hers under the table. Jake Peralta is laughing next to her, too, but then he’s also smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them.

-*-

He’s lying in a hospital bed, and Amy thinks she’s never seen something more unsettling than a quiet Jake Peralta. The only sound in the room is the beeping of some monitors he’s hooked up to, and the only movement is his chest rising slow and steady. Something it didn’t do about two hours ago, when she was kneeling over him in some alley and screaming while the medics finally arrived and brought him back. It was a fairly ‘minor’ injury in the end, one bullet wound that the doctor’s had to close up, but it had hit some sort of vein that was important and that lost a lot of blood and that stopped his heart for the few moments she remembers stretching like hours in her mind. She doesn’t remember much else, especially not the medic’s or doctor’s explanations. They’d taken her along in the ambulance, because she was his partner, and she was allowed to sit in the hospital room he was recovering in now, because she was his emergency contact, too. She could’ve been nothing after today. Because the bullet from that gun wasn’t aimed at Jake before he pushed her to the side.

Amy looks down at her hands, folded in her lap, pinching each other to remind her she’s awake, she’s here, and so is Jake. Not awake, but here. Still here. They’re squeaky clean, her hands, because she’s spent a good fifteen minutes in the hospital public toilets scrubbing them free of his blood after he was rushed into surgery and she was left behind, alone in the waiting room, her sensible grey pantsuit coloured red all over her arms. She had a list of things to do in her head - contact Captain McGintley to follow the chain of command, and Terry so something would actually get done. Figure out how and who can transport Peralta home and take care of him, if he gets to go home. (He will. He has to. She will take him.) Call Rosa to find out if they booked the perp properly, and that they add assault with a deadly weapon to his rep sheet (not murder, although that’s what he did, that’s what happened). But she couldn’t do any of that, because she was still shaking, her heart was still racing, and all she could see was his blood on her hands, warm and sticky and dark and drying into a rotten brown shade already. So she washed them clean, and then scrubbed some more, and some more, until she felt as red and raw as the wound in his chest had looked in the ambulance when they got his shirt off. (The jacket of her suit is rotting away in the toilet trashcan now, and she’s shivering ever so slightly in only her short-sleeved blouse, but it is clean and there is not a hint of Jake’s injury anywhere anymore, except in his gaunt cheekbones and the pale colour of his face, and the silence of the room.) His hand twitches while she’s staring at her own, and if it’s instinct or reflex of whatever that makes her reach out and grab it immediately, she doesn’t care. His hand is warm under hers, and it twitches again and then wraps its fingers around her and holds her, steady and calm. He blinks awake, a little disoriented, but then he focuses on her and - smiles.

“You’re okay.” He says, and that’s what breaks her in the end.

She doesn’t outright sob or anything, but she does let her head drop so her hair is hiding her face, hiding the tears he doesn’t need to see first thing after waking up from literal death. She feels his hand pull on her to make her look at him, though, and she can’t deny him, even if her tear-streaked face is probably not a good view.

“Hey, no- don’t-” He rasps, his voice still coming back, “I’m okay too.”

She laughs through her tears, a short little snort, but it helps calm her down - and him too, it seems, because he smiles again.

“You’re far more than just okay, Peralta.” She smiles back, and feels his hand tighten around hers, three little, but distinct squeezes.

-*-

She shouldn’t feel this nervous. She’s a cop, a detective. A good one. She’s done this before, and it’s never been nice, but it’s always something she’s gotten through.

But she fears tomorrow’s court date more than anything else in her life right now, which is why she’s trying to drown the thought of it at Shaw’s. The hangover will probably not be helpful with her witness statement that could possibly make or break this ruling, but her panic demands more alcohol. However, the next beer she orders at the bar is intercepted by a larger, more calloused hand than hers.

“Alright, Santiago, that last one was your sixth, and I really don’t need to deal with Seven Drink Amy tonight.” Jake says as he settles down next to her, hands the beer over to Rosa, who leaves them alone at the bar before Amy can whine and complain.

“I need that drink, Jake. It’s my only friend right now.”

“We both know that’s just Six Drink Sadmy speaking.” He pats her arm as she spreads out over the slightly sticky bartop and whines some more.

“You’re worried about tomorrow.” He continues, reading her thoughts like he sometimes does, which is such an annoying thing he can do. His hand is still on her arm. “You don’t have to be.”

“That girl’s entire life is at stake. And the gang boss is going to kill me and her if he gets off-”

“He’s not going to get off. Not if you tell them exactly what you told the lawyers taking your written statement.”

“Says you.”

“Says Sofia.” There’s a weight to those words that hits her stomach, and it’s only partially the fact that a damn defense attorney is on her side. The other part of why those words from the woman Jake started dating just recently hurt her, she doesn’t want to think about. “Look, I’m gonna drive you home, you’re gonna take a hot shower to detox, then you’re gonna get your perfect 8 hours of sleep, show up at court tomorrow in your best, darkest pant suit, and rock this like you rock everything else.” His hand has wandered down her arm to her hand, now, flips it over to hold it, and it’s pure coincidence that their fingers spread and interlock, surely. “Okay?” He asks one more time, and she sighs.

“Teddy can pick me up-”

“Teddy’s at that conference, remember.”

Oh, right. Something that had been lost to memory between drink three and four, the fact that her boyfriend had booked himself into a seminar the week the court date was announced. It’s a really good one, he’d said, if she wasn’t already busy he would’ve asked her to join, too. Already busy. Regular Amy doesn’t get punchy a lot, and maybe it’s her closeness to Seven Drink Amy right now that makes her want to knock him out for that, but she felt that way when she helped him pack his luggage two days ago too, and she was stonecold sober then.

“Okay.” She nods and tries to get off of the barstool, wobbles quite heavily. “Take me home, Peralta.”

He snorts a laugh and obviously swallows down some sort of joke as he pulls her into a standing position, their hands still locked together. She thinks she imagines it at first, but even after she’s sobered up the next day, she remembers those three short, tight, almost painful squeezes before he let go and steered her to his car.

She doesn’t have much time to think about it, or about how she basically held hands with her best friend while both of their partners were out of town, either. Or how he helped her into her apartment and waited until she was showered and had downed some water and aspirin before tucking her into bed. She can’t think about any of that, because she has to get ready for court.

And when she sits down in the witness’ chair, the gang boss on the bench before her staring her down with murder in his eyes, she notices a set of dress blues in the otherwise thin crowd of people who were allowed in to watch the trial. Three rows down, Jake gives her a silent thumbs up when their eyes meet, and she feels the phantom of his hand again, squeezing hers three times before she begins to speak.

-*-

They’re gonna die. She’s certain. They’re gonna die in here, in this cramped little closet, wedged between some industrial shelving and a broken down sink.

Jake had pulled her in and locked the door behind him, squished her against the wall and himself against the door, and killed the radio on her shoulder as well as his own. The last thing they’d heard crackling through it was “four officers down”. Someone had fallen behind her when she ran for safety, and for a second she thought it had been Jake. That he was standing here now, almost pressed against her in the tight space she would usually panic in, that she could feel his erratic breath on her ear, his racing heart under her hands, was pretty much the only comfort she had left.

She wonders how long it’ll last.

The mission had been an absolute bust. They had expected a gang. They had not expected a well-armed mafia. And now officers were wounded, or dead, and they couldn’t use their radio to find out anything, for fear of being discovered. She can hear gunshots and shouts from further away, and it’s only her paranoia that make them sound as if they're getting closer, but Jake is listening just as intently. Amy thinks of Rosa and Charles, who were on the other side of the building. She thinks of Terry, who’s probably trying to reach any of them by radio from his station in the surveillance van. She thinks of Holt, and can’t see where he might be right now, still next to Terry or commanding whatever backup might be coming in or-

She feels Jake’s hand wrap around hers, still pressed against his chest, and realises that she’s been hyperventilating. If she gets any louder, she’ll give away their position. His forehead against hers is cold, colder than he usually is, clammy with sweat, but the simple pressure of it helps her focus. She can hear him breathe deep, slow, exaggerated, and understands that he’s doing it for her. He probably thinks she’s having a panic attack because of her claustrophobia, or maybe all things at the moment combined. He’s not that far off. She breathes with him, feels the air from their exhales swirl between the few spaces were they don’t connect. There aren’t many. If she looks up, she could kiss him. She’s not quite that sure that she’s going to die in here anymore, but she would definitely hate herself if she did and never found out what that felt like, or if her last kiss on Earth was really from Teddy the night before they broke up. But when she moves her head, she meets his eyes instead, pupils blown wide in the darkness around them. He looks scared and terrified, and his heart under their combined hands is still racing, and the last thing he needs is for Amy to confuse him before they go out in a hail of bullets, action-movie-style, which he’d probably love if it wasn’t so real right now. She wants to say something, anything to calm him down, but she can’t speak, and not just because there are footsteps approaching outside their door.

She feels his hand tighten around hers, three times, faster than before. And then he pulls her into a close hug when the door behind his back opens to reveal blinding light, and she realises he’s shielding her, has been ever since he pushed her first into this storage space. He only lets go when they both hear Terry’s voice, and the Captain’s, the first telling them they are safe, the second immediately trying to update them on the situation with the SWAT team. He holds her hand a second longer than the rest of her, and the three squeezes that follow are far softer and slower than the ones before.

-*-

Amy Santiago and Jake Peralta are sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of their friends has said, and she feels his hand slip into hers under the table. For only a split second, she’s tempted to pull her hand away. It’s still so new and shaky and unsure, their whole thing, yet at the same time it isn’t. It’s been growing for so long, between them and around them, it feels like it’s always been there. But the rest of the squad is still pulling excited faces whenever they get a little closer, Charles still squeals at every mention of their ‘evenings together’, and Rosa has rolled her eyes so hard she almost strained a muscle the first time she heard Amy refer to Jake as ‘babe’ in front of her. It’s all a little bit embarrassing, and sometimes she wishes they’d stuck to just one of their rules, of not telling anyone until they figure it out. But then she wonders, what was there left to figure out? She was with Jake, and she wanted to be with Jake, and deep down, she could see none of that change at any point in time. Forever, possibly.

Charles is still talking, riding the wave of getting their laugh, but then Jake’s smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them. She remembers them from before, from tense moments and situations of fear, from where he’s been there for her at the worst parts. Holding on tight and feeling the three little bursts of pressure, only wondering a long time later if he did it on purpose, or if it was some sort of reflex.

She feels it again now, and she can finally hear it.

I. Squeeze. Love. Squeeze. You. Squeeze.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet

61 notes · View notes

callboxkat · 4 years ago

Text

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 5/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone.

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Fic Warnings: food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 2329

Part 1 : Part 6

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman gasped and sat upright. Or at least, he tried to. Gentle but firm hands pushed him down as Roman realized he was moving, being carried on a stretcher. Blue sky shone above, rather than those endless trees.

“Sir Roman, it’s the guard, we’ve got you—“

“Logan,” Roman interrupted, “Where’s Logan; is he okay?”

“He’s here,” said a voice. Roman quickly tried again to sit up and turn to look, which... judging by how his stomach rolled and black rushed in from the edges of his vision, may have been a mistake.

…

He caught glimpses of blue sky and anonymous faces, snatches of conversation, but he couldn’t seem to properly hold on to reality until he realized he was being lowered onto a bed. Several sets of footsteps left the room, their owners murmuring quietly. A door shut. He opened his eyes.

“Please stay down,” said a voice. “You’ll be alright; you’re safe now. Just let me look you over.”

A woman stood at the bedside—a doctor, judging by her appearance. “Logan?” Roman asked.

Hands began gently examining him, feeling along his arms and legs. “He’s alive. They’re taking him for surgery. They’ll bring him here after.”

He’s alive.

“Surgery?”

“For his leg. They’re trying to save it.”

Roman swallowed. “Will he be okay?”

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. “He’ll live. I saw his leg, though, and I won’t lie to you. If he does keep it, I’d be very surprised if he didn’t need a cane.”

Roman sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Oh.” Logan would not be happy about that. Even if a cane would make him look distinguished.

“For now, let’s focus on you. Does anything feel broken? What hurts? I see that bruise on your head, and your feet aren’t in great shape, either, but if there’s anything else. Like that blood on your side—is that yours?”

Roman swallowed, suddenly very aware of where his coat stuck to his side. He could still feel Logan’s head pressed there. “Ah... no. But I hurt my ribs,” he admitted.

“Okay. I’ll look at those after we get this head wound sorted.”

She reached up, and Roman belatedly noticed the ice pack that had been placed on his head as she took it away. “It looks like the swelling’s already gone down. Can you tell me your name?”

“Roman. Uh, Sir Roman.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir Roman. My name is Valerie. And what day is today?”

Roman hesitated a little too long, but he was able to tell her.

“Okay. That’s good.” She held up one finger. “Follow this please?” She moved her finger from one side to the other, and Roman did his best to follow it. He had a feeling he didn’t do a great job, based on her expression.

In the end, Valerie told him he had a minor concussion, two likely cracked ribs, some bad cuts on his feet that had to be cleaned and in one case stitched, a badly sprained ankle, and a lot of bruising. She’d had to cut off the shirt of the uniform he’d been so proud of, but Roman found he didn’t care.

After Roman had been treated, some of the knights came in to find out what exactly had happened to him and Logan, and why they had gone so far into the woods alone in the first place. Roman had to admit that they were right, saying that he should have found more knights to accompany them once they had decided to go further from the settlement, or should have tried harder to stop Logan from going at all. Some of them seemed rather angry about it. Roman didn’t blame them.

It was late afternoon by the time they brought Logan back. When it became clear Roman had no intentions of staying horizontal, Valerie helped him to sit up against some pillows.

The people who brought Logan in carefully lay him on the second bed in the room. The apothecarist had been dressed in loose medical garb that didn’t suit him at all. His eyes were shut and shadowed, and his head and leg were thickly bandaged. He was still very pale. But his leg was still there, and Roman could see his chest gently rise and fall. The sight filled him with a dizzying relief.

One of the doctors, or nurses, or whoever they were who’d brought Logan back to him, stepped aside to quietly converse with Valerie.

Roman just watched the steady rhythm of Logan’s breathing, a part of him fearing it might stop if he looked away.

The other person stepped out, and Valerie turned to Logan, picking up a blanket and laying it over him. She left his injured leg exposed. After a glance in Roman’s direction, she also folded it down just enough that Roman could still see his chest move.

“How is he?” Roman asked, his eyes not leaving his friend.

“They saved his leg,” she replied, “though it’s almost certain he’ll need a cane. He also has a concussion.”

“But he’ll… you said he’ll live, right?”

Valerie gave him a reassuring look. “As long as nothing changes, he will.”

“When’ll he wake up?”

Valerie hummed. “He might wake up sometime tomorrow. They gave him a sedative for the surgery, and he needs time to rest and recover. He’s not in great shape.”

“…Okay.” ‘Might wake up tomorrow’ was certainly much better than ‘might wake up’. And they had saved his leg—also very good news. Logan would kill him if he found out someone had cut off his leg on Roman’s watch.

Logan still had his leg, and his life. At least Roman hadn’t entirely failed to protect him.

…

Logan slept through the entire next day. Roman also dozed for much of the time, admittedly exhausted and without much else to do. His day was broken up by small, plain meals, and when Valerie or one of the other doctors came to check on Logan and Roman. Each time, they’d look them over, give Logan and Roman some medicine, and if necessary, change their bandages. Roman was not a fan of the bitter taste of his painkillers, but they were better than putting up with the pain. It looked like Logan was receiving more medicines than Roman, which he supposed made sense. Roman didn’t ask what any of the potions were. Logan probably would have known.

Over the course of the day, Logan’s color seemed to improve, and Valerie seemed pleased by whatever she was looking for when she examined him. But, still, he stayed asleep. Roman was worried.

“He could wake up sometime tonight,” Valerie mused, her fingers pressed to Logan’s neck, “but I would not count on it.” She took her fingers away, then took a bottle from her coat and dabbed a liquid from within on Logan’s lips, letting a small amount trickle into his mouth. “He’ll likely be pretty out of it, if he does. Try not to overwhelm him. Just keep him calm, and call for a doctor if none of us is in the room.”

Roman wilted a little, but he nodded. He really, really wanted to talk to Logan—he needed to—but more than that, he needed Logan to be okay. And it wouldn’t exactly be worth it to talk to him if he wouldn’t remember it, or be present enough to really take part.

Roman was silent for a moment.

“When he’s well enough,” he asked hesitantly, “would you mind giving us a moment alone? I’d, um... really like to talk to him. Alone.” Sure, Valerie wasn’t always in this room, but she or another doctor seemed to always be just in the other room beyond, where Roman was sure they could hear anything said in this one.

Valerie looked confused for a moment, glancing between him and Logan, probably wondering what on earth he could want to speak about; but then realization flickered in her eyes. Roman felt mildly embarrassed, but Valerie just turned back to him and nodded, smiling kindly. “Of course. I’ll make sure you two get some time alone. But if anything seems wrong, you call me back right away. I’ll go far enough that you can talk in peace, but I will not leave the building.”

Roman did his best to pretend his face wasn’t flushed pink. “I will, I promise. Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, then went to change Logan’s bandages. Roman watched as she carefully unwound the gauze from Logan’s head, checked and cleaned the wound, and spread a salve over it before wrapping his head in fresh bandages. She then went to the foot of the bed and did the same for his leg. Roman didn’t watch that. He wasn’t squeamish; he was a knight, but... this was Logan. And he’d already seen what the giant had done to his leg.

“Will he be in much pain when he wakes?” Roman asked.

“We’ll give him a potion for that.” She glanced up at Roman, who continued to look away, since she wasn’t quite finished with Logan’s leg. “Don’t worry. He’ll be getting the good stuff.”

Roman chucked weakly.

Valerie finished tending to Logan, then turned to Roman, who was not exactly eager to have more of that salve put on his cut feet. It stung.

Finally, she was securing the last bandage in place.

“Okay, I’m just about finished here. Someone will be in in a couple of hours; but of course, if something happens, just call out. Do you need anything before I go? I could help you lay back down—might be more comfortable, for sleeping tonight.”

Roman glanced at Logan, who was still sleeping peacefully, then shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine like this. Thank you so much for all of your help.”

“It’s no problem. It’s my job.”

“Still. Thank you.”

Valerie nodded, gathered her things, and left.

Roman sighed, settled back against his pillows, and closed his eyes.

…

Even during the night, every hour or two, someone would come in to check on Roman and Logan. Roman was not exactly happy to have his sleep repeatedly disturbed. How was he supposed to get back to his normal, fabulous self if no one let him have his beauty sleep? But he was glad that they were keeping an eye on Logan, at least.

Then, there came one instance when he couldn’t have been less annoyed to be woken up.

He’d been dreaming, he thought, of shadowy forests and bloody faces and glowing, sickly green eyes, when a sound brought him back towards wakefulness. As Roman drifted out of sleep, he placed it as a quiet moan.

Roman frowned and opened his eyes, looking around. It was clearly still nighttime, and the room was dim, lit only by moonlight filtering through a thin white curtain over the window, and by a soft glow from under the door. Daybreak had to be an hour or two off, yet.

There was a shifting of fabric from his right, and suddenly Roman realized what—or rather, who—had woken him.

“Logan?” he asked softly, looking over at the other bed.

Logan’s head shifted, his eyelids fluttering, then opening halfway. He let out another, even softer groan.

Roman sat up straighter, trying not to wince as his ribs protested. “Logan,” he tried again. “You with me?”

After a pause, Logan’s eyes slid in his direction. Even in the dimness, Roman could see how drowsy he looked. His normally sharp blue eyes looked glazed. His eyebrows furrowed, and Roman realized he appeared to be growing more nervous and confused.

“Hey, it’s me, Roman. We’re home,” Roman whispered, hoping to reassure him. “They got us out. We’re okay. You’re in the hospital, but they’re going to have you all fixed up in no time.”

The words didn’t seem to register. Logan shifted again, looking agitated. He made a distressed sound.

Roman bit his lip. Time for plan B. He pushed aside his own blanket, and, taking a second to brace himself, pushed himself to his feet. He gritted his teeth, grimacing, then hobbled over to Logan’s bed.

The bed wasn’t very wide, but his favorite nerd was very skinny, so there was plenty of room for Roman to sit on the edge of the bed. He took Logan’s hand, hoping he wasn’t overstepping. The apothecarist usually wasn’t exactly cuddly.

“Hey,” Roman whispered, as Logan’s eyelids drooped, then opened again.

Logan mumbled something. Something about a potion? It didn’t make much sense. Maybe Logan thought he was at his apothecary, or that they were still out in the woods, gathering supplies. Valerie had said he’d be out of it.

Roman hesitated, nodded to himself, then carefully swung up one of his legs onto the bed, the one whose ankle was sprained. There wasn’t enough room for him to fully lay on the bed, but this was more comfortable.

He rubbed his thumb across the back of Logan’s hand in small circles, still nervous about whether Logan would be okay with this, but the injured apothecarist seemed to relax as Roman continued the gentle, repetitive motion. Roman’s heart swelled, and he swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat.

He’d nearly lost this. For a while there, he had thought he had. Even if Roman himself had somehow managed to escape, he would have never had the chance to tell Logan how he really felt. It would have been too late. Logan could have been gone forever, and Roman would have never known if things could be different.

“Roman?” came a weak, wavering voice.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me. We’re in the hospital.”

Three seconds of silence passed. Roman thought perhaps Logan had fallen back to sleep, but then his hand twitched in Roman’s, like a weak attempt to squeeze it. “You okay?” he mumbled.

A tear leaked down Roman’s cheek. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s okay. Just rest.”

9 notes · View notes

lesty-xx · 5 years ago

Text

thank you @fanfictiongreenirises for tagging me! The last part was especially fun (haha, are you happy I’m actually doing these now, now you’re not tagging me in vain!)

rules: spell out your url with song titles, answer the quarantine questions, and bold the things that apply - then tag 10 people

This is quite long so I dumped everything under the cut =D

let's goooooooooo

L - Learn to Let Go by Kesha

E - Eden by Sara Barellies

S - Something by The Beatles

T - Treacherous by Taylor Swift

Y - You Gotta Die Sometime by Andrew Rannells in Falsettos

I have no songs for X, I know none, I have over 2,000 songs in iTunes and not ONE starts with X, so I think we're stopping here then? This is a sign that I need to evolve out of 2012 and remove the "-xx" from my user name.

~*~

where are you isolated?? at home! I’m quite lucky because I get to hang out with my dog everyday

what are you currently reading or watching?? I'm rewatching Doctor Who right now! I went in reverse order by doctor (13, then 12, then 11, etc) but having to witness Clara die then seeing her again all bright and bubbly with 11 was painful, and I realised I couldn't go through that pain again with Rose so I skipped 10 and went onto 9. I'm now half way through 10's first season, and I’m so excited for when Martha and Donna rock up as the God Tier companion duo of NuWho

if you can go outside, what do you like to do during this time?? Sometimes I sit in the backyard and listen to the birds, my dog likes to come out with me and roll in the grass.

any fascinating concept you’re studying?? ummmmm I've just finished all my uni coursework (just finishing up a prac assignment at this rate), but the most interesting thing I got to study this semester was the development of white nationalism as a culture. It was awful and somewhat traumatising at times, but thoroughly interesting in a perverse, macabre way.

what kind of acts of creativity/forms of art are you currently doing?? I'm kind of flip flopping between different things because I keep getting new ideas of things to try. I've been writing, experimenting with new watercolour techniques, I did some spray painting and gave myself a minor asthma attack, it's been fun!

a song that resonates with your state of mind at the moment?? Kings and Queens by Ava Max! It's such a great bop to jump around in your bedroom to, and lately that's been my perpetual state of being

favourite impulsive/”bad” coping techniques?? p r o c r a s t i n a t i o n, I keep waking up going "okay, I'll get this thing done", but first I've got to shower, then I need to have a coffee - oh, that one didn't wake me up enough, better have another one! Oh no, now I have too much energy, let's do some spontaneous cardio in the living room, oops, now I need another shower - and then this just continues until it's 10pm where I'm like "ah, now it's too late to start anything, I’ll do it tomorrow".

favourite healthy/”good” coping techniques? I'm starting to exercise which I thought I'd hate but I'm actually enjoying, it’s nothing intense or committed, but it’s nice to get some movement into my life.

~*~

APPEARANCE i’m over 5′5″. i wear glasses / contacts. i have blonde hair. i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing. i have one or more piercings. i have at least one tattoo. i have blue / green eyes. i have dyed or highlighted my hair. i have gotten plastic surgery. i have or had braces. i sunburn easily. i have freckles. i paint my nails. i typically wear makeup. i don’t often smile. i am pleased with how i look. i prefer nike to adidas. i wear baseball hats backwards.

HOBBIES AND TALENTS i play a sport. i can play an instrument. i am artistic. i know more than one language. i have won a trophy in some sort of competition. i can cook or bake without a recipe. i know how to swim. i enjoy writing. i can do origami. i prefer movies to tv shows. i can execute a perfect somersault. i enjoy singing. i could survive in the wild on my own. i have read a new book series this year. i enjoy spending time with friends. i travel during school or work breaks. i can do a handstand.

RELATIONSHIPS i am in a relationship. i have been single for over a year. i have a crush. i have a best friend i have known for ten years. my parents are together. i have dated my best friend. i am adopted. my crush has confessed to me. i have a long distance relationship. i am an only child. i give advice to my friends. i have made an online friend. i met up with someone i have met online.

AESTHETICS i have heard the ocean in a conch shell. i have watched the sunrise. i enjoy rainy days. i have slept under the stars. i meditate outside. the sound of chirping calms me. i enjoy the smell of the beach. i know what snow tastes like. i listen to music to fall asleep. i enjoy thunderstorms. i enjoy cloud watching. i have attended a bonfire. i pay close attention to colours. i find mystery in the ocean. i enjoy hiking on nature paths. autumn is my favourite season.

MISCELLANEOUS i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle. i am the mom friend. i live by a certain quote. i like the smell of sharpies. i am (was) involved in extracurricular activities. i enjoy mexican food. i can drive a stick-shift. i believe in true love. i make up scenarios to fall asleep. i sing in the shower. i wish i lived in a video game. i have a canopy above my bed. i am multiracial. i am a redhead. i own at least three dogs.

Tagging: It’s been so long since I was active on tumblr that I kinda feel at a loss at who to tag, so this is basically my awkward way to reach out to some mutuals who I still see on my dash and adore even though I never speak to you because communication and I *are not* on speaking terms

@ohloverbcy @hiimcanadia @just-emerly @dirigibleplumbing @hailey813 @funky-lil-cowgirl-yeehaw @protectcombeferre @shakespeareanqueer (there’s no pressure to do this btw! I’m just stumbling back into this website with a flickering torch)

#lesty: speaks #ask meme #wowza this is long #I had a lot of fun though!#except the first part with the song titles #that one gave me anxiety

5 notes · View notes

ecfandom · 6 years ago

Text

Polis 433 Ch. 13 Preview

I’m sorry for the wait!!

***

“Do you have someone to pick you up tomorrow?” Clarke asked as she kept herself busy folding Lexa’s jeans and shirt. Her mind circled endlessly around their conversation in the chamber, the feeling of Lexa’s hand in hers, Lexa’s palm cradling her cheek, and the terrible story behind the burn scars eclipsing Lexa’s hand and wrist. That story had lingered in the back of her mind ever since she’d read about it, eating at her in a mixture of guilt at having read something so intimate about Lexa’s past, and sorrow at the physical and emotional pain she knew Lexa must have endured. Seeing the tangible evidence of what’d happened to Lexa, feeling the scarred skin beneath her touch, had left her feeling strange, sad and just generally out of sorts. She was not, however, too self absorbed to notice Lexa’s lack of a response. She smiled when she walked over to Lexa’s bed with her folded clothes and found Lexa nearly half asleep.

“Hey,” she said softly, and combed her fingers through Lexa’s hair. “Sleepy?”

Lexa cracked open an eye and grinned. She nodded, lulled by Clarke’s fingers in her hair and the warming blankets on top of her. “You spoil me,” she murmured, gazing at Clarke with so much affection, Clarke quickly looked away, distracting herself with Lexa’s clothes once more. She had never been looked at the way Lexa looked at her. It was too much--piercing and knowing, and worst of all, so very gentle.

“I told you,” Clarke said, wanting to clear the lump in her throat, “friendship with me has its perks.”

“If I recall, I’m not the one who needs the convincing.”

Clarke flushed and good-naturedly tousled Lexa’s hair in retaliation. “Don’t tease.”

“I would never,” Lexa swore, her brow furrowing in mock seriousness. Clarke rolled her eyes, and her hand stilled in Lexa’s hair. Her smile fell, and before Lexa could ask if she was okay, she slipped her hand to Lexa’s cheek, feeling the skin there with the back of her hand.

“You’re a little warm,” Clarke murmured, searching Lexa’s eyes for any signs of distress. “Do you feel okay?”

“Fine. More than fine,” Lexa said with a wink that had a hot, red blush racing up Clarke’s throat.

Taryn clearing her throat from the doorway had Clarke nearly jumping back as Taryn strode into the room with a guitless grin.

“Sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“Fuck off,” Lexa groaned with a laugh, rolling her eyes at Taryn’s knowing smile.

“That’s no way to talk to your doctor.”

“Remind me again how I got stuck with you as my doctor?”

“Oh, I think it was when I shoved a needle into you arm and administered the Epi that re-started your heart and saved your life, you ungrateful jerk. Maybe next time I’ll let you code a little longer.”

“Hey,” Clarke snapped, “that’s not funny.”

“Only joking,” Taryn said, raising her hands in surrender. “How are we feeling, Lexa?”

“Ready to get out of here.”

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that since you woke up in here a week ago.”

“Well, the sentiment remains. You’re still discharging me tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” Taryn said with a shrug. “If your system behaves overnight, I don’t see why not.”

“It will. I want to be out for the game. I was just inviting Clarke when you so rudely interrupted.”

Clarke laughed incredulously. “No you weren’t.”

“Well, I was about to.” Lexa reached out and grabbed the front of the scrubs Clarke had changed into before Lexa’s treatment, and gave her a little tug. Clarke tried to hold back a smile as she let herself be pulled back to Lexa’s bedside, blushing furthermore and rolling her eyes as Taryn watched on, her arms crossed, and an amused grin on her face.

“Go with me,” Lexa murmured. “I’ve got four tickets. I promised one to Taryn’s sister-in-law, but I have two left over. Bring Ellie. It’ll be fun. Popcorn, hotdogs...come on. It’s the best.”

“What game are we talking about?” Clarke asked, removing Lexa’s hand from her scrubs and placing it back on Lexa’s lap with an amused pat.

“Polis Patriots,” Taryn filled, “minor-league baseball.”

“Oh,” Clarke said with a frown. “I don’t remember that being a thing when I was little.”

At Lexa’s silent plea for help, Taryn continued. “They moved from Juneau a couple of years ago. You should come. We all go. My sister-in-law, Paxton, just got back in town. You can meet her if you haven’t already. My girls are coming with Ella too. I’m sure Lily would love to see Ellie.”

Clarke looked from Taryn to Lexa, endeared by the look of hope on Lexa’s face. “When is it?”

“Wednesday. Do you work?” Lexa asked.

Clarke held back a grin at Lexa’s hopeful eyes. “In the morning.”

“Perfect. It’s not until seven. Come on,” Lexa said, “it’ll be fun.”

Clarke sighed, patting Lexa’s hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re oxygen drunk.”

“You’ll go?”

“If you’re sure you don’t want to give those tickets to someone else.”

Lexa scoffed. “Who else would I give them to? You know Ellie’s my number one.”

***

Clarke felt like an idiot walking through the hospital with the wide grin on her face, but despite what she tried, it wasn’t going anywhere, even after she picked-up Ellie from the peds wing with a full diaper and sugar crash. With a fresh new diaper, and a snack from the cafeteria to bring her blood sugar back up, her happy, chatty toddler had returned full force. As they often were, Ellie’s hands were relentless as they worked their way over Clarke’s hair and face, played with the necklace Clarke wore, and toyed with the pen light in her chest pocket, all the while talking a mile a minute in gibberish Clarke could only half understand.

“Mommy,” she asked, patting Clarke’s cheek for emphasis.

“Yes, Love?” She gently pulled Ellie’s hand away and settled it between them, hiking Ellie up further onto her hip as Ellie squirmed around in her arms.

“I want see Wexa.”

“She’s resting right now. We can see her some other time.”

“No, now!”

“Ellie,” Clarke said, a gentle warning in her voice, “no yelling.”

“But want Wexa now, Mommy.”

“I know, baby. We’ll see her soon. We’re going to go to a baseball game with her.”

“What’s that?”

“Baseball? It’s a sport. Like when we kick the ball in the backyard and play soccer.”

“Soccer!” Ellie squealed, delighted by the thought of one of her favorite past times.

Clarke laughed and gave Ellie a fond squeeze. She was so in love with her baby’s joy and energy. Ellie had an insatiable propensity for new ways to have fun, and Clarke often marveled at and admired her spirit. Call her biased, but Ellie was a tiny bundle of perfection she would never get enough of. She kissed Ellie’s cheek and took in her wonderful baby smell, hoping never to forget the little moments like these, so often lost in the chaos of her busy life.

She still had her nose pressed to Ellie’s hair when a figure rounded the hallway at nearly a jog and side-stepped just in time to avoid a collision.

“Oh, Clarke, jesus, I’m sorry,” Abby said, one hand over her chest, the other clasping her daughter’s shoulder, steadying them both.

“I forgot how fast you walk down these hallways,” Clarke said with a chuckle, slightly breathless from the scare.

“Sorry, Love, it’s a bad habit. And oh my goodness, there’s my favorite little munchkin in the whole wide world,” Abby cooed, taking Ellie into her arms when her granddaughter shouted her name and leaned towards her. “What are you two doing here?” She asked Clarke. “I didn’t think you were on today.”

“I’m not, I…” Clarke said, then paused, suddenly confronted by the fact that she would have to tell her mother about Lexa, or she would have to lie--something she hadn’t done to her mother since she was a teenager. “I was visiting a friend,” she said, deciding on the safe middle road.

“Is everything okay? Raven? Octavia?”

“God no, it’s not them. I would have said so at the start.”

“Oh,” Abby said, then grinned. “A secret friend, then?”

“Mom, don’t start.”

“Don’t start!” Ellie echoed, her brow furrowing into a comically deep frown. “Don’t start, gammie!”

“What? What am I starting? Huh? Come on,” Abby teased, bouncing Ellie until she was giggling and burrowing her smiling face into Abby’s neck. “So it is a secret friend,” Abby then said, turning her attention back towards Clarke. “Is it a...special friend?”

“Mom, I’m not in high school anymore. Please, spare me.”

“Fine,” Abby said, giving an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t tell me any of the fun details then, I’ll subsist on the same old, stale hospital gossip.”

Clarke laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re the chief of surgery, you’re not supposed to be listening to that garbage.”

“Darn right, I’m not. The things I hear...it’d make even the devil’s cheeks burn!”

Clarke felt her stomach suddenly flip at the thought of her mother hearing any of the common rumors that circulated the hospital halls, always having to do with who was fucking who in the on-call rooms. She cleared her throat. “Just in case it was already apparent, I’d just like to state for the record that nothing that you hear around here pertains to me. And if you do hear my name, it’s a lie.”

“Don’t I know it,” Abby said with a sigh. “Your love life is tragic, my dear.”

“Mom!”

“Speaking of--”

“No, we’re not speaking of—”

“--that strapping, young firefighter from your Memorial Day bar-b-q is here. Did you know?”

“I…” Clarke said, already fumbling over that word alone.

“Of course you did. I’m guessing that’s your secret, special friend.”

Clarke groaned, then smiled in embarrassment at the look it drew from one of the nurses standing outside a nearby room. Clarke had grown up at this hospital, spending more after-school hours here than in her own home. The hospital hallways of Polis Memorial were practically her living room, the cafeteria her dining room. She’d had more personal conversations with her mother here than anywhere else. It was almost comical.

“Oh for the love of...not you too,” Clarke said, leaning up against the wall to avoid a technician pushing a portable x-ray machine.

Abby grinned and handed Ellie back to her daughter. “Just promise me you’ll let yourself have some fun.”

“Mom.”

“A date or two would be nice.”

“Mom!”

“Alright, alright.” Abby threw up her hands in defeat, then fondly stroked Ellie’s cheek and booped her on the nose. “Grandma's leaving. I mean it, Clarke. Please try to relax.”

Clarke sighed. “I will do my best.”

“Good. I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night, yes?” Abby asked over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

Clarke threw her a thumbs up in response and turned and walked the other way. “The women in my life are crazy,” she muttered to Ellie, who simply beamed at her and nodded.

#polis 433 #ffau #clexa au #clexa #clexa fanfiction

121 notes · View notes

iwritefanficsometimes · 6 years ago

Text

Eglantine - I wound to heal

Prompt: Hanahaki Disease, except there’s no happy ending.

(You all deserve better, but I’m not the one who can give that to you. This is all I have.)

(PS: Eglantine is a really cute flower and in flower language according to some website it means “I wound to heal.” So very on brand for this fic.)

——

Hanahaki disease is a usually fatal diagnosis in which the person grows flowers for their unrequited love in their chest. These flowers, if not removed by reciprocation of said love or surgery, will eventually kill the affected person. The surgery is usually effective, but it is rarely undertaken as it has a side effect of removing the ability of the previously diseased person to love romantically, familially and platonically. The decision to live without love after Hanahaki disease is a difficult one, but support groups exist for survivors. To find groups in your area…

Stephen throws the pastel pamphlet down onto the library table and is immediately seized by another coughing fit. Wong stands and reaches for Stephen, but Stephen pushes him away pointing to the pamphlet with one shaking hand while the other tries to cover his mouth and catch the beginnings of tiny purple petals dislodged by his cough.

Wong looks uncertainly at Stephen, obviously wanting to be of some help, but he follows Stephen’s instructions and picks up the pamphlet, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“What is this? Hanahaki disease? Stephen-” The coughing fit finally ends and Stephen produces a handful of purple lilac petals, mixed with new yellow petals that he hadn’t been coughing up that morning.

“I’m sick, Wong. I need you to find someone to fill in for you for a couple of days.”

Wong just stares at the petals in Stephen’s hands, seeing but not understanding how his friend who seemed so indifferent could be afflicted with the love disease of all things. He looks back down at the pamphlet, aptly titled, “The Choice to Have Surgery” and then back at the hopeless petals, still free of blood.

“It’s not too late, not if I get it taken care of now.” Stephen is panting, out of breath from his coughing fit, and Wong offers him a chair. Stephen collapses into it gratefully, locking the door to the library magically so they aren’t disturbed. “We just lost the Ancient One, I can’t afford to die.”

“You know the consequences?” Wong asks, watching the discarded petals fall into the trashcan by his desk while Stephen resolutely doesn’t look at them.

“I do. Better Loveless than dead.”

“Have you explored every other option?” Wong raises an eyebrow at him and Stephen rolls his eyes.

“There are no other options Wong. I need someone to be there while the perform the surgery in case of complications, and Christine can’t know. Please.” The platitude is so uncharacteristic that Wong makes up his mind to help without even considering it. Stephen is doing his best to look determined but Wong can read the fear in his eyes.

“I will find someone to attend to the library. Schedule the operation.”

Stephen nodded, slumping even further in his chair. Wong expected Stephen to leave now that he had what he wanted, but Stephen just closes his eyes, forcing his breathing to even out. The last time Stephen looked this ragged was when he was just coming to Kamar Taj. It was a sad sight to see.

“If you wish to talk, I will be here.”

Stephen smiles but doesn’t open his eyes. “Thank you, Wong.”

----

He schedules the removal for a boring nothing sort of Thursday, and he tries not to criticize the doctors operating on him too much. He can’t help but offer commentary as they prep him for surgery until they put him under. He knows they must be glad to anaesthetize him.

He wakes up and he doesn’t really feel any different. Wong is seated beside his hospital bed, and he’s apparently been awake several times already, but can’t remember it. Stephen checks to make sure he can still use his magic and move his limbs before he asks Wong what the doctors said.

“They said it was successful, you may still have a few petals, but they should pass once you’ve finished healing.” Wong’s eyes are sympathetic and Stephen can’t find it in him to care.

“Good. Thank you. You can leave now if you want to.” Stephen doesn’t have any more immediate need for Wong, and he’s needed to fulfill his post at the library.

“Are you sure? I can stay a little longer.” There’s a searching in Wong’s eyes, and whatever he’s looking for he must come up empty, because he frowns. Maybe he sees the Lovelessness in Stephen.

“I’m sure. Go back to Kamar Taj.” He smiles, because it will placate the man, and Wong nods then gets up to leave.

Stephen watches him leave and feels a subtle twinge of emptiness. An absence of platonic love, maybe. It was strange to think he could feel that way towards Wong and never notice it, but he hadn’t noticed that he loved Tony Stark until he started coughing up lilacs. Maybe Stephen didn’t know himself as well as he liked to think he did. Well, at least now there were fewer things to know.

——

Stephen hasn’t even been in recovery for twelve hours when a jaunty spider child knocks on the window his hospital room and lets himself in. “Hiya Doctor Strange! Mr. Stark said that his weird keep-track-of-people algorithm saw you had been checked into a hospital and he wanted me to check on you.” He closes the window behind him and then checks that the room is clear before removing his mask and taking out his hoodie and track pants from his bag to redress. “Everything okay?” The kid doesn’t look worried, which meant Tony had probably told him not to worry, which meant Tony had probably hacked into his hospital records. What an asshole.

“I’m alright, Peter, just some minor elective surgery. Everything went well and they’re releasing me in the morning.”

“Elective surgery?” The boy asks, taking the chair Wong had vacated twelve hours previous. “What for? Did you get your appendix removed?” He tilts his head like he’s trying to think of what other kinds of elective surgery Stephen might have.

Stephen feels that pang of emptiness again, the empty space where love used to be for a child he watches die a too many deaths.

“It’s really not any of your business Peter.” He smiles, because it’s important to keep up appearances now that he’s Loveless, and Peter seems to believe him, because he just smiles back.

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that, but that I should be persistent. So… do you wanna tell me now?” Peter’s face is bright and wide open, knitted together by a thousand watt smile and persistence. It’s kind of nice to see, though it doesn’t draw up the same feelings of warmth that it once did.

“No, I don’t, because it’s still not any of your business.” He props himself up a little farther in the hospital bed so maybe the kid will take him seriously. “Tell Tony that he needs to stop sending his ward to spy on me.”

“I’m not his ward.” Peter wrinkled his eyebrows and Stephen laughs, not unkindly, at the disgruntled face.

“Go, Peter, I’m fine. Besides, it’s a school night.”

Now Peter’s forehead crumples as his eyes narrow beneath furrowed brows. “It’s Friday, Mr. Strange.”

“It’s very late Thursday night. Go. I’m sure your aunt is worried about you.”

Peter tries to stifle a yawn that only proved Stephen’s point while he shakes his head. “She doesn’t even know I’m gone. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?”

“I’m sure. Go home.”

Peter purses his lips but eventually conceded. “Alright. Well, get well soon Doctor Strange.” He turns to climb out the window and then stops, “oh wait!” He slings his backpack down into the chair he’s been using and rifles through it for a tiny, bright pink, stuffed bear. “That’s from Mr. Stark.” He sets the bear down on the side table. “He says it’s a get well present.” He nods like his business is done and then turns to leave again. “Bye for real Doctor Strange.” He climbs out the window and closes it behind him, turning back to wave before he swings away on webs of his own design.

Stephen smiles, amused Peter’s antics, and then reaches for the bear. “Get well soon, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at the glassy eyes and looks straight into them while he speaks. “Doesn’t Pepper have some kind of understanding with you about boundaries?”

Stephen’s phone rings on the bedside table and he knows that this is the true test. If the surgery was successful then when Tony talks to him he’ll be entirely unaffected. Even now thinking about Tony leaves an empty ache that the doctors promised would dissipate as he healed, just like the last of the petals.

He makes an inquisitive face at the bear when he sees the caller ID is Stark.

“You sent a child with a bear to spy on me, don’t you have any shame?” Stephen laughs, but it’s not tinged with the vibrant sadness that it used to be. He’s laughing more at the ridiculous situation than at Tony doing it.

“Yes, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Look, you took yourself off the roster for the week and then I found out you were having surgery? I was worried.”

“Needlessly. It was an elective surgery, totally safe. I’m fine.” He set the beat back down on the night table, pointing it’s camera eyes toward the window like a little pink guard bear.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“You say that like you didn’t hack into the hospital records to find out exactly what I had done.”

“Haha! I didn’t!” Tony sounds too proud of himself for doing something that should really be considered common decency.

“I’m actually surprised by that.” Pleasantly surprised now that there was no need to explain to his married unrequited love that he’d had a surgery to end his Hanahaki disease. Tony would just blame himself, like he had any control of Stephen’s feelings.

“Well, I’m full of surprises. We still on for lunch, Saturday? Pepper is really excited about being able to go to Paris for lunch without increasing her carbon footprint.”

“Sure. I should be discharged by tomorrow.”

“Great! See you then, Gandalf.”

Tony hung up before Stephen could get in a retort. He snorted and then set his phone down on the table by the bear. He could feel a hollow space in his chest where his love for Tony used to be, this one a more painful ache than the two he’s felt before it. Like the feeling of having air caught somewhere it shouldn’t be an a stabbing ache. Coupled with the return of feeling to the place where they’d opened his chest cavity to remove the deadly flowers, Stephen felt horrible, but at least now he wasn’t going to die. That was the important thing. He couldn’t afford to leave the world unprotected. Earth wasn’t prepared for a world without Stephen Strange, but it wouldn’t miss Stephen Strange’s capacity to love.

And neither would Stephen.

#lysadoessomethingstupid #stephen strange #ironstrange #tony stark

84 notes · View notes

theladymeera · 6 years ago

Text

Arya’s Visit/A Heart-to-Heart

Can’t come up with a better title at the moment, sorry. A short Arya one-shot for @aegon. Sorry it took so long. I ended up doing a little prequel to the bran/meera modern au I’m going to start publishing soonish since I love the Stark girls in it more than anything. You can read it below the cut or on AO3 when I post it there.

Edit: Here’s the AO3 link [x]

Arya popped her bubblegum loudly, a habit that had always made her mother angry but her mother couldn’t complain when she wasn’t there to watch so Arya kept blowing bubbles. It was quiet at the train station that afternoon, a benefit of leaving early. Arya kept her hands deep in her fleece-lined pockets to keep her hands warm as she’d forgotten her gloves.

The ride from Riverrun to Winterfell was long but Arya enjoyed it, she needed the quiet for a few minutes. A 24-hour shift in the chidlren’s hospital had left her feeling like a damp rag that had been rung out too much. So many children. Some of them were only there for minor surgeries, a couple stitches, a broken ankle. But there were others that had the bald heads, sallow skin, or empty eyes of someone who had been too sick for far too long. It wrenched at Arya’s heart.

Her thoughts were broken when a text came in, another one in the continuous conversation on the Stark’s group chat; currently named “Howlies” at Rickon’s suggestion. Arya had a feeling the name would not last just as the last eight names hadn’t. The addition was Sansa’s “Can’t wait to see everyone tonight!”

Arya’s phone kept buzzing with her brothers’ and Jon’s responses, with the exception of Bran who Arya figured was probably sleeping, possibly high although he swore up and down that he was clean and had been for nearly six months. While Arya was thinking of a response she received a private text from Jon “You are coming aren’t you?”

“On the 🚂 now”

“Okay I’ll pick you up when you get here.”

Arya grinned, she had missed Jon more than anyone. She spent the rest of the train ride listening to music, looking out the window, and ignoring the continuous texts of the group chat and the occasional text from a friend. Hot Pie was filling her inbox with his lengthy musings on his bread recipe. She didn’t need to comment on it and she’d benefit from it when she returned to Riverrun.

Jon was waiting for Arya as she stepped off the train at the Winterstown station. He wrapped her in a bear hug when she found him. “How was the trip little sister?”

“Fine,” she told him. Arya picked her bag up from where she’d dropped it and followed Jon to the car. “So how is everyone else?”

He waved his hand “Well enough – some better than others. You’ll find out when you get home.”

While Winterfell as a city had been officially absorbed into Winterstown centuries before it had remained the most upscale and wealthy area of the entire North, and as a result of its being much more well known that Winterstown the whole region was known in the South as Winterfell. Some things had changed Arya saw from the window of the passenger’s seat in the waning light. There was new construction near the airport and some of the shops had changed in even the older parts of town. She and Jon enjoyed having only the radio quietly playing the latest hits from Volantis and Lannisport, though Jon would have honestly preferred classical music and Arya leaned towards Braavosi styles but neither of those were available at that hour and it was easy to tune out.

Arya drew in her breath when Jon turned onto the street into her parents’ neighborhood. The fencing was imposing and the houses were particularly large and often lavish. There was a change in the front garden of her parents’ home. “Jon what happened to the tree?” she asked, a tinge of panic in her voice. The ancient ironwood that had stood sentinel over her parents’ front lawn since before her father was born was gone, an enormous black stump and some missing grass was all that was left in the area it had once been.

“It was diseased and it had to be taken down a week ago. I thought your mother would have mentioned.”

“She didn’t.”

“Well maybe this is why if you’re going to cry over it,” he said good-naturedly.

The annual flowers were different, her mother had chosen a mix of what looked like purple and white flowers from what Arya could see in the dim light of the street lights and the garden lamps. Arya noted this without the shock she’d felt at losing her favorite climbing tree. Her mother usually chose a different mix of annuals annually. It kept things fresh without cutting into the foundations of what made their home, well, their home. “Do you need a minute with the stump?” Jon asked, grabbing Arya’s bag from the trunk.

“No, I’ll have a funeral for it tomorrow.” That got her cousin to laugh and he threw an arm over her shoulders to guide her inside.

It was just the family that evening. Normally Arya would have expected to see some of her mother’s Tully relatives like her great uncle Brynden and his husband, her uncle Edmure and his wife or some family friends such as the Reeds or Baratheons but instead it was just her parents, siblings, and Jon. Which would obviously lead to some sort of girls’ activity with her mother and Sansa, the two people she was looking forward to spending time with the least. Arya bore the tight embraces, Rickon’s fist bump, and a somewhat awkward hug with Jeyne due to her swollen belly. Arya felt as if there were butterflies in her own belly.

The dinner went smoothly, the only blips being when Robb spilled wine on his dress shirt and when Rickon failed to smother a belch which earned himself and Robb sharp looks. Rickon for belching, Robb for laughing. Arya hid her own snort by pretending to choke on a sip of wine. Her mother noticed but chose to ignore it.

“It’s wonderful to have all of us together again for once,” Catelyn began when the table was being cleared.

“Here we go,” Arya thought dismally.

“– and while I adore all of my boys I think we need to have some time together as ladies. Sansa, Arya?” Catelyn’s stare seemed to bore into Arya’s head. Arya didn’t dare ignore the direction and followed her mother, sister, and sister-in-law to the theater room. Jeyne and Sansa settled down to work on giving Jeyne a pedicure, she couldn’t reach her feet after all, and Catelyn pulled her youngest aside.

“Did you get a new tattoo or a tongue piercing or whatnot?” Catelyn snapped once they were out of earshot of their companions.

“What? No.” Arya crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared up at her mother.

“Then can you explain why you’ve spent the whole evening acting guilty?”

“I have not been acting guilty.”

“Then what would you call your behavior? It is not normal for you. I appreciate your not fighting with your sister, though I will admit you haven’t done that in some time, but if something wasn’t off you would have at least spent more time talking to your brothers or Jon.”

Arya took a deep breath, “I didn’t want to have this conversation.”

“What conversation,” Catelyn put a cool hand on Arya’s shoulder.

“I –” Arya glanced at where her sister and Jeyne were seated, “can I speak to you in private?”

Catelyn’s eyebrows rose, “alright.”

They walked back to the kitchen which was deserted now that the cook had gone home. Arya ran her hand along the marble counter and listened to the dishwasher humming. Her mother set two glasses of water between them and stared her daughter down. “What is this all about? Out with it.”

Arya kept her eyes on the lines in the stone, “I quit med school.”

“You what?” Catelyn hissed.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I – I hate the studying and I don’t like any of the doctors I know. It’s too cerebral or, or whatever. I just felt so tense all the time, I was under so much pressure to finish school and become this like, great doctor like I’d planned on and it wasn’t working and when I sent the school my withdrawal letter it felt so good and I didn’t want to tell any of you because I’ve been working towards being a doctor for so long and I felt so ashamed that I jumped ship so late when I was supposed to be smart and dependable and I always said I’d never change my mind about what I wanted to be but it just wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” Arya wiped furiously at a tear that had escaped.

Catelyn stayed quiet for a few minutes while Arya regained control. “I was afraid you were going to tell me you were pregnant,” she said at last.

Arya laughed, “Me? No. No. Never.”

Catleyn leaned back in her chair, “Never say never Arya. You just told me you quit medical school, giving up a dream you’ve had since you were nine years old.”

“I mean I don’t expect to ever come crawling home in tears as an unwed mother who doesn’t even know who the father is.” Arya took a drink of her water, “Aren’t you angry with me?”

“For dropping out of school? It is disappointing, an adjustment to be made, but it’s not the worst thing you could have done. As long as you’re happy. Speaking of which, what have you been doing since you quit?”

Arya’s shoulder’s dropped as the last bits of eternal stress fled her system. If her mother wasn’t angry that she’d quit school then there was no chance her father would be. “I’m still an RN you know so I got a job at the children’s hospital in Riverrun, since I didn’t want to go back to Braavos at all, and I’ve been taking some courses at the community college there in like languages and math. And I’ve been dancing a lot. Just, trying to figure out what I really want now that I know doctoring isn’t it.”

“So you’re not living on the streets in Essos?”

Arya shook her head, “No, of course not.”

“And you’re happy?”

Arya thought for a moment, “Yeah, it’s the happiest I’ve been since before dad went to work in King’s Landing.”

“Good,” her mother said before she stood and came around the counter to bury Arya in an embrace. “That’s all I want for you my little wolf girl,” Catelyn muttered into Arya’s hair.

#aegon #end of year celebration #asoiaf fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #arya stark #jon snow #catelyn stark

5 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 4 years ago

Text

07/14/2021 DAB Transcript

1 Chronicles 16:37-18:17, Romans 2:1-24, Psalm 10:16-18, Proverbs 19:8-9

Today is the 14th day of July, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible, I'm Brian it's great to be here with you today as we approach the middle of another one of the months that we get to share together, 12 of them in all as we move through the Bible in a year. It is a joy to be with you here now, as we take the next step forward together and that will lead us back into the book of 1 Chronicles today, chapter 16 verse 37 through 18 verse 17.

Commentary:

Okay, have you ever judged somebody or commented on someone's behavior and you were guilty of doing the same thing at some point in your life, maybe even traipsing out versus to make your judgment, to make your commentary, even though you’re also guilty? That's called, generally speaking, hypocritical right, hypocrisy and now that we've moved past all the pleasantries and greetings and kind of gotten into this Book of Romans, we see the tone of voice that Paul uses is very direct. Actually, we’ll find that in most of the letters, pretty direct conversation and Paul is talking about this sort of hypocrisy. And let's face it, we've all judged people for things that we've done like we’re just, we’re a mess sometimes but let's allow the letter to the Romans to just speak for itself. Therefore, every one of you who judges is without excuse for when you judge another you condemn yourself since you, the judge do the same things that we know that God's judgment on those who do such things is based on the truth. Do you think any of you who judges those who do such things that do the same that you will escape God's judgment? Yeah okay, so that's as stark as it can be. And so, here we are to look in the mirror and face that. We put ourselves in the position of God and we like to judge on behalf of God and we like to bring out versus out to defend ourselves when often we’re being hypocritical because in some sort of way, we have the same things within us and we’re capable of doing the same things and we can't stand that God wouldn't judge those people. And so, we need to just people sometimes. I mean so often that's what we get pulled into, we see something that we think is wrong or we think is unjust or that was really really interfering with our plans and goals and so we need God to judge those people's wrong, move them out of the way and when I doesn't happen them we get about the business of being the judge pretty quickly. Paul is saying here is that not gonna work because God's not withholding judgment. Instead, he is bestowing the riches of his kindness and I'm quoting here the riches of his kindness, restraint and patience God's kindness and again I am quoting this right out of the Bible, God's kindness is intended to lead you to repentance. So, yeah Romans will continue to give us a theological underpinning and explain a lot to us theologically, but it also snaps things into place practically. What's happening here though over, over the course of the days that we spend in Romans is that an argument is being laid out and so this whole thing is being set up and that's what we’re reading here. What Paul's saying today, for starters is that, we can judge all we want it doesn't make a difference we’re not the judge. Our judgments don't do anything like, in the eyes of God. God is God, God will do what God will do and we so often hypocritically step in His way and try to become the sovereign judge. And I know we all know people who are judgy right, and it's going nowhere. And so, let's carry that forward as Paul continues to layout the underpinnings of our faith.

Prayer:

So Father, we thank You thank You for this book, we thank You for Romans, we thank You for all that it that it has a how densely packed it is how much is there and we ask Holy Spirit that we would have eyes to see and ears to hear, as we’ve been praying that we would have understanding hearts that we would be transformed, that we would be changed, that Your kindness, Your patience, despite our judgments and hypocrisy, that Your kindness would lead us to repentance. We're so often thinking fearfully about your wrath and that that’s supposed to lead us to repentance and yet what we’re finding is that You are kind and patient and leading us to repentance through restraint and that is such, that is in such stark contrast to how we normally are; we don't offer kindness and restraint and patience. We all too often offer our judgment when it is kindness that leads us to repentance. Help this to sink in, help this to sink into the parched soil of these portions of our hearts giving us nourishment's we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it's the website, it’s where you find out what's happening around here. Of course, if you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can find out what's going on around here there by pushing the drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner. So, check out things like the Daily Audio Bible Shop. There are resources in a number of different categories that have been developed over the years to take this journey of a lifetime deeper so check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you. If who we are as a community around the Global Campfire every day, if that is encouraging and encouraging you to go on take the next step forward together, if that has made a difference in your life than thank you for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you are using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app which is the little red button up at the top and share from anywhere in the world or there are a number of numbers that you can call in the Americas 877-942-4253 is the number. In the UK or Europe 44 2036 088078 is the number and if you are in Australia or that part of the world 61 3 8820 5459 is the number to call.

And that's it for today, I'm Brian, and I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayers and Encouragements:

I tore my hip flexor about three months ago and I’m 16 years old and they said I’ll probably have to do surgery to fix it and it’s only a minor tear but I’m just…please pray that God will heal it so I don't have to have surgery.

Good morning this is Dennis from Palos Verdes I'm just gonna ask for prayer for me, my family for mainly for myself. I find myself struggling to do things on my own to do it in my own strength and yet there's this ever loving, forgiving compassionate God there who wants to help me but for some reason I just find myself continuing to try to struggle and do it on my own. Not to be weak yet, in my weakness I fall because my pride. And yet I have this community that’s so loving and so willing to pray for us so, I’m just gonna reach out and ask for prayer for me, my family, my children to help me to give up my pride and to seek God for help first and foremost. So, please if this community would pray for me as I pray when I listen for everyone else. I just felt weak to reach out but I know it's what I really desperately need. So, thank you in advance for your prayers. I know this community. Thank you so much God bless.

This is Laquita from Vanita, Oklahoma. I wanted to pray for the gentlemen who had called in about his neighbor she has stage 4 cancer, she has two small children. And I just wanted to pray that the Lord would give you courage that…you’ve been on my mind ever since I heard you call in and I think the Lord wants to use you to go over there and minister the gospel to her and to tell her how much Jesus loves her and cares for her. And for you to lift up that family. And I’m just gonna pray. Lord, I just pray for this gentlemen Lord, that you would give him courage Lord. That You would take away any fear that he might have, that he might go over to this lady’s house and minister Your love, Your mercy, Your grace, Your compassion for her and her family Lord God. I just pray that You would open a door for him Father God that no man can shut Father and that You would just boldly come up on him and the Holy Spirit Lord that he would just be courageous to minister Your salvation to this lady. And I just thank you that You’re a faithful Lord, I thank You that You watch over Your word, Your performant. I thank You that You place this in his heart and Lord I just pray that You would fulfill Your word through him. In Jesus name. Amen.

Hello, my name is Mary, I’ve been a listener for a year and a half now and I absolutely love Daily Audio Bible. So, thank you Brian and this community and your family, it’s been such a blessing. I have never called in for prayer, I do like hearing the prayer requests and praying for you all and hearing familiar voices. So, I’m adding mine to this family. Asking for prayer for my daughter who is 20 and just dealing with some pretty intense anxiety at this time. So, we’re all feeling a little overwhelmed, we’re getting help but I just need an army of believers just lifting her up, her name is Jillian. She’s an amazing young woman and this just came out of, I don’t know, I just…I feel like it’s just been really terrible and surprising and so yes, we need our Bible in our hearts and in our home and in our faith just to trust the Lord with this and with her. And just praying for so many who are dealing with anxiety during this time. So, I pray for all of you who are struggling and I thank you in advance for praying for my beautiful Jillian and for me and my family. Thank you everybody. Bye.

Hi, this is Blessed by Jesus in Kansas City and it’s been a while but my heart was touched on the July 12th podcast by the lady from Chicago who was taking care of her mom who has dementia. I want you to know that you don’t walk that road alone and I am wanting to thank you on behalf of your mother for loving her and taking care of her when it’s not an easy job. I am praying along with you for your anger to be lessened, for you to find a joy again as you serve your mother in this ministry and I’m praying that God would send you just the right people at just the right time to walk beside you and to help you. I’m praying that you will accept that help and that you will have some times where you feel absolutely normal and refreshed. May you know that God loves you and God loves your mom and many, many people are lifting you up in prayer. Good bye.

0 notes

kirikinni · 8 years ago

Text

Falling In Glove With You- Taekook/Yoonseok Fluff (part1)

Part 2

“Hyung, doesn’t this look like a pitch?” a very drunk Jungkook asked staring intently at his pizza slice as though it held the secrets of the universe.

“In what world? The pitch is a diamond you toenail.” Yoongi replied, looking at Jungkook with disgust.

“Oh! Oh shit it’s green now, hyung is the pizza supposed to be green?”

“What the fuck are you drinking, give it here. That’s enough for a year.” Yoongi stated and reached over to grab the bottle from Jungkook who was too out of it to even react.

The two boys were crashed out in their apartment, Jungkook had his head falling over one of the arm rests and his legs over the other while Yoongi reclined comfortably in his chair and stared at his strange younger brother.

They had a match coming up and had been freaking out for the past two hours. The two brothers had moved out to LA in hopes of achieving their dream of playing baseball professionally. Yoongi had been living in Boston for a few years already, busting tables and DJ’ing at parties and proms for extra cash. He shared his apartment with another boy, Kim Namjoon, who worked in retail. Yoongi had enough money to afford his own apartment, but he knew Jungkook would come down after college and he knew they had to save for the league.

Once Jungkook had arrived and started getting decent pay, the three of them had moved to a slightly larger apartment much to Jungkook’s surprise. He hadn’t understood why Yoongi’s roommate was was moving with them but like Yoongi said to him then, you don’t just live with someone for three years and not become best friends.

Namjoon, had grown up in the US and he was the one who helped Yoongi enter the MSBL League. It was an amateur league but you had to start somewhere. Once Jungkook arrived, he joined the league as well, thankfully in the same team as Yoongi, the Eagles. Thanks to Namjoon, Yoongi didn’t have to hunt and search for a team full of strangers. Namjoon’s current boyfriend played in the league and coincidentally they were a few people short both times Namjoon asked.

Yoongi and Jungkook settled into the team nicely thanks to Seokjin who was like the Oliver Wood of minor league baseball. They went to practice after work and on weekends and perfected their skills. Jungkook rose to the top of their team as their golden pitcher, he got the batsmen out and the ball to their team’s catcher as easily as pulling his shirt over his head. Sports came naturally to him, always the star player.

Yoongi alternated between right fielder and second baseman, running, catching, tagging, all those things were right up Yoongi’s lane and he was more than happy to play those positions. It wasn’t as glamorous as pitcher but he preferred to stay out of the limelight. Their team was already pretty strong but with the addition of the brother duo they were almost unbeatable. Almost. There was one other team, Boston Bears, considered the gods of the MSBL in Boston and every other team feared them. Yoongi being his hard-headed self couldn’t take it, he refused to just let another team take the title of the best.

He knew they would have to be the best if he ever wanted to see the glory of professional baseball so he convinced Seokjin to up the team’s practice time. Yoongi somehow managed to rev up the entire team into a frenzy. The next time they played, the Bears they were out for blood. His whole team was ready to win and they did, they won against the Bears for the first time in two years and the crowd was in uproar. The team picked Yoongi up and carried him all the way to the nearest bar where they drank until they couldn’t speak clearly.

The Bears soon became their worst enemy and with it Yoongi got himself his very own rival, Jung Hoseok. The team captain and smooth talker extraordinaire, Yoongi hated him with a passion. He hated how good he was and how assured he was that their team was better than his. More than anything Yoongi absolutely despised how he would congratulate Yoongi on his achievement and how Hoseok had the audacity to ask Yoongi to help him with his catch. Yoongi was sure that Hoseok was mocking him and there would never be a match that didn’t follow with an hour of everyone having to listen to Yoongi talk about Hoseok.

Jungkook, like Seokjin, didn’t think of the Bears as their archrivals but rather as really talented opponents. In the year he had been here, he made tons of friends in both their own team and in the Bears. Everyone loved the boy and his sweet, beyond respectful personality. He was their youngest member and they all treated him like their own little brother. The league was their family, Yoongi and Jungkook found friends and a whole new family on the other side of the world through baseball. The reason behind the brothers freaking out and getting drunk was the rumor of a baseball prodigy being added to the Bears. There was news floating around that a new member was being added. The only information they received about him so far was that he was also from South Korea and that he was a killer batsman. Eagles had their next match against the Bears and Yoongi did not want this new member to ruin it for them and when Yoongi worries Jungkook worries. Only this time there was legitimate fear in Jungkook. Jungkook’s position was pitcher and he had made a reputation for himself as the best. If this new batsman was better, if he could accurately hit all of Jungkook’s pitches, Jungkook would be ruined and being as melodramatic as he is Jungkook imagined his entire life crashing around him.

“Yoongi hyung what am I gonna do if he can hit all my balls, I’ll be ruined. I’ll have to change my name, get plastic surgery and move away to Poland.” Jungkook whined and looked at Yoongi with horror in his eyes, “Hyung, I can’t go to Poland.”

“Jungkook, if this new player is as good as they say how will I ever look Hoseok in the eye again? He’s going to gloat all over the place. I hate his face, he’s going to smile and laugh and his whole face is going to light up. I’m old and I don’t have the strength to deal with that.” Yoongi said and gulped down whatever was left in Jungkook’s bottle.

“Oh shut up, you two absolute drama queens. Honestly, it’s just one new player–what the fuck is wrong with you two? Jungkook, calm the hell down, you’re gonna be fine and you’re gonna keep your title as the best. If this new opponent is that good then you’ll just rise to that level and be better, and Yoongi hyung, the only reason you don’t want to see Hoseok smile is because it makes you smile. Just admit you’re whipped for the boy and ask him out. Jesus Christ, I swear I’ve grown five years ever since you both moved in with me.” Namjoon said, taking the bottle away from Yoongi and whacking Jungkook behind the head. “Hyung!” Jungkook yelled and jumped up to sit on his knees on the couch. “What if I’m not good enough, I know it seems like I’m good at everything but it can happen, he could be better, hyung I’m going to die, oh no.” Jungkook started to ramble, flailing his hands around wildly.

“Shut up you cocky little shit.” Yoongi said and threw a throw pillow at him making him fall backwards off the couch and land on the floor with a thud, “Oh God, oh no are you okay? You’re our best pitch you can’t be injured.” Yoongi yelled and jumped off of his own couch and scrambled over to his little brother.

“Ow hyung, that hurt. Nice to know you care.” Jungkook grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Guys just go to bed, you have practice tomorrow. You can scout the new guy.” Namjoon said as he walked back into the kitchen with the two bottles.

Yoongi sighed and walked into his own room after nudging Jungkook with his feet. “Move… go sleep and be ready for tomorrow.”

—

The next morning was a hassle since Jungkook was still very much afraid of being shown up and Yoongi was still very much only thinking about Hoseok and how he would react if they lost. Namjoon ended getting them both ready and driving them to practice the whole time, grumbling about never signing up to be their mother.

Seokjin and the rest of the team was already there, they were running drills as the three of them walked up. Seokjin ran down to them once he saw them, a smile as wide the pacific gracing his face.

“Hyung, why do you look so happy? Did the new player drop dead?” Yoongi asked, his face lighting up with expectation.

“No Yoongi my god, he’s here! We get to play against them for a practice match.” Seokjin announced like it was the greatest news he could possibly deliver.

“Hyung…” Yoongi said and stopped, letting it register in his mind, “Hyung, that’s not good news.” He yelled after a few seconds.

“Yes it is, now go and stretch out with the rest of the team. We need to show the new kid what we’re about.” Seokjin said as he took Namjoon’s hand and walked to the bleachers.

“Fuck this, now if we lose then we’ll lose earlier. I hate life.” Yoongi said and stalked down toward the field. Jungkook ran up ahead of him, seeing the field and his team gave him a new sense or reassurance.

Yoongi walked down, his mind his mind racing for ideas for a win when a hand was thrown over his shoulder and that voice he hated so much rang through his ears, “Hey hyung, good morning.”

“Leave me alone.” Yoongi replied, poison in his voice.

“Oh c’mon hyung, we’ve been playing against each other for four years now. Why you gotta be like this?” Hoseok asked, refusing to remove his hand.

“Don’t try to distract me from your new player, you’re not gonna get the better of me or my team, you snake.” Yoongi said, trying very hard to ignore the burning of his skin when Hoseok touched him.

“I’m doing nothing of the sort, hyung. You really need to learn how to read people better.” Hoseok said laughing

“Uhuh sure, I’m going to go practice and you should do the same. Don’t get cocky just cause you have a good new player.”

“Okay, hyung. Bye, good luck.” Hoseok said and ran off.

“Jump off a cliff.” Yoongi replied and joined his team who were all running drills and sweating.

The only thing anyone on their team could discuss was the new player on the opposite team and it was getting to Jungkook. He was jumpy and messed up a few practice pitches which made him even more afraid. Seokjin joined them, and in about an hour both teams were lining up to play. Jungkook took his position and started jogging in his spot to alleviate some tension. Yoongi was second baseman and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Hoseok who was glowing in the sunlight. He was sitting with the rest of his team in the bleachers and the sunlight hitting his skin made him look like a god. Hoseok turned his head to catch Yoongi’s eye and waved. Yoongi whipped his head away and felt his entire body burn at being caught.

The first batsman came onto the field and Jungkook turned around to look at him. The moment his eyes caught sight of the new boy, he felt all the air in his body get knocked out him. The new boy was the definition of beautiful, the uniform he was wearing fit his body just right and he walked and held himself like a model would. Jungkook was ready to fall to his knees and apologize for even looking in the boy’s direction.

“Jungkook, are you playing or what?” the catcher yelled at him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Jungkook blushed red and stretched a bit before getting ready to pitch. Jungkook now had a new purpose on this field, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in front of the most beautiful boy in existence.”

The referee blew his whistle signaling the beginning of the game and Jungkook pulled his hand back and pitched with all his might, he was sure the batsman would miss but he didn’t. He hit the ball and it flew, it flew out of the park and Jungkook stood there staring at him. His jaw on the floor and his heart beating way too fast.

Jungkook turned his head to look at how far the ball flew and back at the batsman. He didn’t know whether he was attracted or annoyed, he decided on a little bit of both. He threw the second ball, this one spinning in ways that made it impossible to follow with human eyes and yet the boy hit it. This hit wasn’t as accurate and only went a little way but the fact that he could hit the ball at all made Jungkook want to either pull out his own hair or pull the boy’s hair.

Jungkook breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down and to get at least one ball in, he pulled back and let go imagining the surprise and hopefully awe on the boy’s face when he saw how good Jungkook was and it worked. The ball flew past the boy and into the hands of the catcher. Jungkook jumped and yelled, this was his number one achievement and he was ecstatic. Once he had stopped celebrating he turned his attention back to the batsman who had a wide smile plastered on his face. Jungkook could clearly see it through the bars in the helmet.

The rest of the new boy’s inning went like that, some balls he hit and some balls he missed. Once the boy was off the pitch Jungkook didn’t try as much, he knew exactly how to mess with the rest of the team and the rest of the match went by without much excitement. When the Bears were pitching Jungkook could not keep his eyes off of the new boy, the way his hair moved in the wind and how when he ran his leg muscles strained against his pants. At one point, he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat on his face and Jungkook almost passed out. The game ended on a tie which was fine to everyone except Yoongi who decided that that was even worse than losing and sulked the whole time while the teams shook hands and walked over to the closest bar.

Hoseok sat down next to Yoongi and talked about a new book he was reading, while Yoongi tried his best to not let his gaze slip down to Hoseok’s lips. Yoongi was much better at conversing with Hoseok when he was drunk.

Jungkook was sat in a corner opposite Seokjin and Namjoon who were discussing something very domestic, Jungkook was watching his team and the Bears when the new boy slipped into the seat next to him.

Jungkook felt his heart jump into his throat and his skin burn at the close contact. He both cursed and blessed the tiny seating accommodations. The boy turned to Jungkook and smiled really wide, his lips stretched out to form a box shape and his eyes sparkled. He was holding a beer, the same as Jungkook.

“Hey, you’re first pitcher for the Eagles, right? You’re incredible.” He said and took a sip of his drink.

Jungkook fumbled around for words, trying his best to both drink in the boys beauty and string together a coherent sentence, “Um ya… ya um thank you and you’re the first batsman, you killed me um it ya… you killed it.” He said, his words tripping over his tongue.

The boy laughed and it sounded like angels were singing, Jungkook swore he could listen to the boy laugh for years, “Ya I was, thanks. Hey, I wanted to ask if you could help me practice? My team has some amazing pitchers but none as good as you.”

Jungkook blushed red and prayed the boy didn’t see it, he was more than happy to spend more time with such a beautiful specimen of human, “Sure, I would love to. My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” He said and put his hand out.

The boy smiled again and shook Jungkook’s hand, “Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

17 notes · View notes