#the surgery is coming up and then it’ll be over and done with

[gregmarriage]

as patrick stump once said; ‘i’m not a cry baby, i’m thee cry baby” <3

[forever-rogue]

came out of surgery and was just imagining pre-outbreak joel high on anesthesia, being all cute and flirty with the reader 🥺🥺 can I request that as a fic??? 👉👈

AN | Oh but this would be one of the funniest situations!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language; mention of surgery

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Joel huffed, looking at you almost as if to make sure you were really making him go through with it. Not that you'd forced him or anything but…still. He did not want to do this.

“It'll be fine you big baby,” you snorted, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. He groaned slightly at the feeling, rubbing at his sore jaw, “and that's exactly why we're doing this. So you're not in constant pain!”

“I’m a grown ass man,” he was grumbling as he followed out to the car, “I’ve lived 35 years with these stupid teeth and I can continue to live with them.”

“It doesn’t matter how old you are - they’re bothering you and I’m tired of hearing you whine about them,” you opened the passenger door to his truck and motioned for him to get, “you’re going to listen to me, Joel Miller.”

“I do - I do not whine,” with that he got into the truck a big pout on his face as you closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

“It’ll be fine, love. It’ll be done in a few hours, then you can rest and eat ice cream and I’ll take care of you. In a few days to a week you’ll be good as new.”

“But - “

“But nothing,” you turned on the car, “I was in my late twenties when I got mine out a couple of years ago and it was just fine. I survived and you’ll survive.”

“Fine,” he sighed heavily as he stared at the road, “but I want lots of ice cream when it’s done.”

“Then we’ll get all the ice cream, Joel Miller,” you reached over and gave his knee a squeeze, “you big weenie.”

“Stop,” he groaned softly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Mrs. Miller?”

“Oh, I’m…” you stopped yourself and didn’t bother to correct the dental assistant as you stood up and walked over to her, “how did it go?”

“Everything went just fine,” she explained and you relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief, “no complications at all. I think he’ll heal up just fine.”

“I have no doubt about that,” you watched as she walked back to collect Joel, leaving you unsure of what exactly to expect with him. You whispered to yourself, “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery, dramatic of course but full.”

A few minutes later a very drowsy looking Joel walked out, looking around in confusion. It took him a few moments to realize that you were there but as soon as he did, his entire face, as much as you could see of it anyway, lit up, “wow. You’re so pretty!”

You had to work extremely hard not to burst into a bit of giggles at one, how pathetic he looked, and two how muffled and mumbly he sounded. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, tenderly taking it in yours, “hi, my love.”

He looked around for a moment, a confused look in his eyes as he looked around the room to see who you were possibly talking about. Then realization hit him, “you're talking to me?”

“Yes, of course,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, “come on, let's get everything you need and then we can get out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home-”

“Together? Do we live together?” He looked so genuinely bewildered that this time you couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped you.

“Yes,” you promised sweetly, “we live together.”

“Wow,” he whispered under his breath, watching as you went to the counter to get everything for him and get any special instructions. While you were listening intently, Joel was looking around at everything in awe, seemingly mesmerized by so many little things. 

Once you had written instructions and everything in hand, you turned back to him, only to find him standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours and started to head towards the door, “c’mon, love. We’re all set. You have to come back in about a week for your follow up, but otherwise you’re all set.”

“Why do I have to come back?” he trailed alongside you, words still muffled from the cotton in his mouth, “I don’t want to come back.”

“Honey, you just had surgery and they took your teeth out-”

“My teeth?” he looked horrified for a moment as he reached up and touched his face, which was still partially numb, “they stole my teeth!”

“Oh -  I mean, I guess you’re not wrong,” you took his hands gently and shook your head, “they were meant to take them, Joel. They were giving you problems.”

“What if I die without them?” He looked so upset - ridiculously adorable but upset. 

“You’re not going to die,” you insisted, “I promise you’re going to be fine. A little uncomfortable for a few days but then you’ll be fine.”

“And you’ll be there?”

“Of course I will,” you helped him into the truck again, “I’ll always be there.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” you could feel his gaze practically burning into you as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store. You’d insisted that you should get him home first so he could rest but he insisted on coming with you so he could pick out exactly what ice cream he wanted and what pudding flavors he liked best. You knew better than to argue with him, even in his current state. 

You stopped with your hand halfway into the freezer and gave him a curious expression, “umm, well…pretty sure I’ve heard that a few times before.”

“Well, you should…because it’s true,” he offered you a small, lopsided little smile. 

“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” you turned back to the taste at hand, shaking your head lightly to yourself. 

Once the cart was loaded up with everything needed for the next few days and you’d snagged the prescription for his antibiotics and pain medication, you head towards the checkout.

Joel appeared to be mostly alright, except for the way he stared at everything and made silly little comments about everything and anything. After you placed everything onto the conveyor belt, you turned around to make sure everything was alright. He waved at you sheepishly before he seemed to get ahead of himself, “do you have a boyfriend?”

Alright…that caught you by surprise. You’d thought he had managed to put the pieces together by now but apparently whatever they had used on him at the dentist’s office was strong. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, “umm…yeah. I do actually…have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the look on his face was nothing short of crestfallen, “t-that’s good. I guess.”

You hummed under your breath as you greeted the checker and paid for everything. You grabbed the bags and motioned for him to follow you as you walked back out to the truck, “c’mon Joel! Don’t need you slowing me down!”

“Yeah…coming,” he mumbled as he helped you to load the backs into the backseat of the truck. He got in as soon as you were done, hopping into the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest, “does he treat you good? Your boyfriend?”

“He does,” you promised, absolutely meaning it. Joel was the best friend and partner you’d ever had, “he’s amazing. And I love him a lot.”

“Cool,” and he seemed like he thought it was anything but cool, “cool.”

“Mhmm…”

“I think maybe we should go on a date,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, “we could be good together. I can treat you right.”

“I’m sure you could,” you chuckled as you turned onto your street, “as a matter of fact, I know you could.”

“Then…I…why-”

“Joel Miller, I don’t know if I should be offended or amused that you don’t remember,” you pretended to scoff heavily as you pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, “we’re dating, silly man. You’re the boyfriend. My boyfriend.”

“No way,” his pretty brown eyes lit up with excitement as he pointed in between the two of you, “you’re dating me?”

“I sure am and vice versa,” you grinned happily as you slid out of the driver’s side and started to grab the groceries to bring them inside. He scrambled to keep up with you, eyes practically glued to you, “come on, love. I know you’re staring at my ass, but you can do that any other time. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”

“Yes ma’am,” he came up and grabbed half the bags from you and headed in as soon as you had the door unlocked. You made quick work of putting everything away and ushering him upstairs to the bedroom. 

For a small surprise you’d gotten him some comfy new pajamas to wear in his recovery. He claimed that he would be just fine but you knew that he was going to be a big baby. Might as well make it so he would be a comfortable big baby.

“Here you go,” you looked through the top drawer of the dresser and handed him the clean pajamas. He made a small sound of happiness, “go get changed and then into bed for you. You need to rest and need to do less talking.”

“But nothing,” you nudged him towards the bed with your hip, “besides, I guarantee that as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable the tiredness is going to set in and get you. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“But-”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he stripped down and put on the comfy clothes, groaning as he laid down in the soft, clean sheets. You offered him a knowing look as he made himself comfortable. He badly stifled a yawn as you raised an eyebrow, “fine, maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll grab a book and some movies in case you can’t or don’t want to sleep after a while,” you looked him over and made sure everything was in check, “and I’ll grab some water and pain meds.”

“You’re the best,” he was already getting sleepy, partly wishing you’d just get in with him, “‘m lucky you decided to date me. I wanna take you on a date when I feel better.”

“Don’t worry I’m counting on that,” you paused in the doorway for a moment, “I’m lucky to have you too, Joel. Get some rest okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”

“Can I have ice cream soon?” 

“Yeah baby,” you grinned softly, “you can have all the ice cream you want later.”

“And you?”

“And me.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home and Joel settled into bed, you were worn out. You made yourself a snack and sat down on the couch to watch some mindless television. There was ice cream stock piled on the freezer for when he woke up and lots of puddings and broths and yogurts for the next few days ahead. Sarah was still at a friend’s house for the night but you knew that she’d love getting to mess with Joel while he was out of commission. 

After a few episodes of the show you’d thrown on, you heard the creak of the stairs. You looked up and found Joel looking at you with a pathetic little expression on his face. You smiled softly in return before motioning for him to come over and join you. 

“How’re you feeling, baby?” you lifted the warm blanket and you were under and he snuggled up to you, wasting no time in getting as comfortable as possible.

“‘m okay,” he huffed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “my mouth feels weird and gross and it hurts a little. Otherwise right as rain.”

“You can use that mouthwash they gave after you eat a little something and get some pain medication. You’ll be able to brush your teeth in a day or two,” with the lightest of touches, you ghosted your fingers along his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, “you’re already doing good, Joel. Better than earlier anyway.”

“Oh no,” he groaned softly as you laughed, “how stupid was I acting? I feel like it was a dream, I don’t remember a lot, just bits.”

“Well, you didn’t remember that we were together, then you were shocked that I was living with you. You proceeded to flirt - albeit very badly - with me and tried to get me to agree to go on a date with you. Seemed like you’d do anything for that. When I reminded you that we’re actually already dating - that kind of together - you almost lost it. So yeah, you were something else.”

“Fuck me,” he groaned as he tried to hide his face from you. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink as you giggled, “well that’s embarrassing. Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Nice try,” you shook your head, “I am so telling Sarah when she gets home tomorrow. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Joel Miller.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t baby me, baby,” you placed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You had your fun and now I get to have mine.”

“Fine,” he pouted, already knowing that neither of his girls were ever going to let him forget this, “fine.”

“You ready for some ice cream?” your voice was sticky sweet as you looked him over. He looked somewhere between miserable and thankful and totally in love as you made your way over to the kitchen, “there’s plenty in the freezer!”

“...yes please.”

[dovesdreaming]

Beyond the scrubs

Summary: Alex karev is dating an attending (reader) in secret until he can’t take the hiding anymore.

A/n: I’ve forgot to say on my other posts but thank you for 300 followers (now more) <3

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: talk of injuries

-

It started as a fling-no promises, no complications, just a way to blow off steam during the long, grueling hours at Seattle Grace. Alex Karev wasn’t the type to settle down, and you weren’t the type to let yourself get caught up in messy entanglements. You were both driven, ambitious, and in control. At least, that’s what you told yourselves. The on-call room was your safe haven, the place where you could steal moments together, away from prying eyes and the judgmental whispers that filled the hospital corridors. Late at night, when the rest of the world was sleeping, you’d find each other in the dimly lit room, the only sounds being the hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustling of scrubs.

“Hey, you” you whispered as you slipped into the room, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. Alex was already there, leaning against the wall with that familiar smirk that always made your stomach flutter. “Hey yourself” he replied, his voice low and teasing. “Long night?”. “Isn’t it always?” You sighed, walking over to him. The stress of the day seemed to melt away the moment you were in his arms, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You kissed, slowly at first, savoring the few minutes you had together. It wasn’t just about the physical connection, though that was part of it. There was something more between you both, something unspoken that neither of you were ready to admit.

As you pulled away, you looked into Alex’s eyes, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. “We need to be careful” you said, your voice tinged with concern. “If anyone finds out…” “I know” Alex cut you off, his tone more serious now. “But I don’t want to stop”. “Neither do I” you admitted, your resolve wavering. “But we both know how it’ll look. I’m an attending, and you’re… well, you”. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doctor”. Alex quipped, his smirk returning, but there was a tension in his jaw that you didn’t miss. Your expression softened, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re a damn good doctor, Alex. One of the best. But people talk, and the last thing I want is for anyone to think you’re getting special treatment because of… this”.

Alex’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. I know I’ve earned my place here. And so do you”. His words sent a warmth through you and you found herself smiling despite the situation. “You’re right” you said softly. “We’ll just have to be smart about it”. “Yeah, smart” Alex echoed, though there was something in his tone that made you wonder if he was already planning on breaking that rule.

As the weeks went by, you managed to keep your relationship under wraps. You were careful. No stolen glances during rounds, no lingering touches in the halls. But there were moments when the facade almost slipped, when Alex’s hand would brush against yours, or when you would catch yourself watching him a little too intently as he worked.

It was during a particularly stressful day in the ER that you had your first real scare. A trauma case had come in, a young boy, barely ten, with a gunshot wound to the chest. It was all hands on deck, and the pressure was palpable as the team worked to stabilize him. Alex was in the thick of it, his hands steady as he assisted Dr. Bailey with the surgery. You watched from the sidelines, your heart in her throat as you fought to save the boy’s life. When it was finally over, and the boy was stable, the tension broke like a dam, relief flooding the room. “Good work, Karev” Bailey said gruffly, her way of acknowledging a job well done. Alex nodded, pulling off his gloves and letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. As he turned to leave, he caught your eye. For a split second, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the intensity of the moment pulling them together like a magnet. Without thinking, Alex reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a gesture that was too familiar, too intimate for the public setting. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled away, your eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. Dr. Bailey’s sharp gaze was on you both, and you felt a pang of panic. But before she could say anything, Bailey turned away, muttering something about paperwork and leaving the room.

“Close call” Alex murmured as you walked out of the OR, his voice laced with a mix of relief and amusement. “Too close” you replied, your pulse still racing. “We have to be more careful, Alex. If Bailey had said something..” “But she didn’t,” Alex interrupted, his expression serious. “Look, I get it. We have to keep this quiet. But I’m not going to act like I don’t care about you. Not in here” he gestured to the hallway around them, “and not out there”. You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had to keep your distance, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was a determination there, a certainty that you couldn’t deny. So instead, you nodded, letting yourself believe, just for a moment, that everything would be okay.

It was a few weeks later when everything came to a head. You’d been playing the game for so long, sneaking around, keeping your relationship hidden, that it was starting to wear on both of you. Alex was growing more frustrated, his usual bravado masking the tension that simmered beneath the surface. You too were feeling the strain, the constant fear of being discovered gnawing at your nerves. The final straw came during a particularly hectic day in the clinic. Alex had been working nonstop, dealing with a never ending stream of patients, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to offer him a moment of comfort, but there were too many eyes, too many people who could see.

And then it happened.

One of the other attendings, Dr. Stevens, made a comment, a casual remark about how Alex was getting all the best cases, how he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. It was said in jest, but the implication was clear: favoritism. You felt your stomach drop, the color draining from your face as the words hung in the air. You waited for Alex to brush it off, to let it slide like he usually did. But instead, he snapped.

“Maybe I get the best cases because I’m a damn good doctor” Alex retorted, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. “Or is that too hard for you to believe?”. The room went silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. You could see the shock on everyone’s faces, the way they exchanged glances, as if suddenly realizing there was more going on than they’d thought. Dr. Stevens opened his mouth to respond, but Alex didn’t give him the chance. “You know what? Screw this. Yeah, I’m seeing Dr. Y/L/N We’ve been together for a while now. And it’s got nothing to do with my work. So if anyone’s got a problem with that, say it now”.

Your heart stopped, your mind racing as you processed what he’d just done. Alex had just blown your cover, exposed your relationship to the entire room. But as you looked at him, standing there with that defiant look in his eyes, you realised something. You didn’t care. You weren’t ashamed of what you had, and you weren’t going to let anyone make you feel like you should be. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, your voice steady as you spoke. “Alex is right. Our relationship is personal, and it has no bearing on the work we do here. If anyone has a problem with that, you can take it up with me.”

There was a murmur of surprise, but no one challenged you. Dr. Stevens, for his part, looked chastened, muttering an apology under his breath. As the room slowly returned to its usual hum of activity, Alex turned to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Yeah” you replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m sure”.

And just like that, the secret was out. It wasn’t easy, and there were still challenges to face. Whispers in the halls, disapproving looks from some of your colleagues but you faced it together, no longer hiding, no longer pretending. Because in the end, it wasn’t about what anyone else thought. It was about the connection you shared, the trust you had in each other. And that was something worth owning, something worth fighting for.

-

Thank you for reading <3

[doc-who]

When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss/Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapters: 4/?

Words: 1745

Categories: Angst, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Eventual Smut

Emily sits in the waiting room, eyes glued to the emergency department doors. She’s chewed her lip raw, and the traces of blood on her tongue match the stains of yours on her clothes. The rest of the team waits around her, silent. Barely a word has been spoken since the paramedics had taken you away in the ambulance.

The clock on the wall seems to tick louder with each passing second, seemingly mocking Emily and her inability to do anything to help you. She buries her head in her hands in an effort to stop the onslaught of images that torment her.

Her thoughts start to spiral, a mixture of guilt and fear. She can’t shake the thought that if she had done something differently, if she hadn’t left you alone that night, you wouldn’t be fighting for your life right now. It’s a weight that threatens to crush her.

The surgeon finally emerges with a look on his face that makes Emily’s heart sink. He beckons the team over, and Emily jumps to her feet. The room feels too small, the air too thick, as he delivers the news. You’re in critical condition. The surgery was successful, but you lost a huge amount of blood, along with sustaining severe head trauma. Emily’s world narrows at the sound of his words. She nods, throat too tight to speak, as the doctor explains your recovery, assuming you’ll pull through.

“When can we see her?” Garcia asks.

“It’ll be a few hours until she can have visitors. Right now we’ve had to put her in a medically induced coma. If the swelling in her brain goes down like we hope, then we should be able to wake her up tomorrow.”

Emily tries to focus on the positives. That they found you, that you’re alive, but she can’t help but think about all the things that could still go wrong. She turns away from the team, knowing the thoughts are clear on her face.

Morgan is the only one to have the courage to approach her. “Emily, she’ll be okay.”

She nods, not trusting her voice. JJ pulls Morgan away for a second, handing him a bag.

“Here, a change of clothes. Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll get us some coffee.”

Emily shakes her head, “I need to be here when she wakes up.”

“Emily, you heard the doctor, it’s going to be a while. Do you really want the first thing she sees being you covered in blood?”

Sighing, she takes the bag from his outstretched hand. She waves off Garcia when she moves to come with her, needing to be alone. Locking the door to the bathroom behind her, she braces herself at the sink, and hangs her head. She hesitates for a moment, not having the nerve to face herself. Taking a deep breath, she looks up, her eyes meeting the strangers in the mirror.

For the first time since she found you, she let’s herself cry.

—

The team had forced Emily to go home, refusing to let her sit in the waiting room all night. She had fought them at first, but she was tired, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. They told her she wasn’t any use to you half dead on her feet, and she reluctantly agreed.

Walking into her empty apartment, she’s greeted by Sergio nudging her leg. “Hey buddy,” she whispers, picking him up and holding him to her chest. Burying her face in his fur, she focuses on the rumbling of his purrs.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, she heads straight for the bedroom and puts Sergio down on the bed. Pulling back the covers, she gets underneath them without getting changed and draws the spare pillow towards her.

The scent of your hair lingers on the pillowcase, and she clutches it to her chest. If she closes her eyes she can pretend that you’re next to her. That the scent of your shampoo isn’t just traces of where you used to be. The tears come again, silent and hot, rolling down her cheeks and staining the pillow. She’s not sure how long she has lays there, holding the memory of you close.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day overcomes her. She drifts between fits of sleep and wakefulness. In the brief moments of unconsciousness she relives a slideshow of the worst moments of the past two days - and every time she wakes, she’s hit with the agonizing reality that you’re not here.

—

Morning comes and Emily is surprised she’s slept at all. There’s a brief moment before she’s woken fully, where she’s at peace. Then she remembers and the pain returns. She goes through the motions of her morning routine on autopilot, the sting of the too hot water barely registering as she showers. The sun has barely risen by the time she leaves and the early hour means she’s the first one to arrive at the hospital.

She lingers in the doorway to your room, listening to the beep of the machines that are hooked up to your bruised and broken body. She’s not sure how much time has passed before she hears footsteps approaching. Dragging her eyes away from you, she quietly greets the team, giving an acceptable answer when they ask how she’s doing.

“She should be waking up soon,” JJ says, leaning next to Emily on the other side of the doorway.

A panic starts to build in her chest and she feels the overwhelming urge to run. “I’m going to go get some coffee,” she says suddenly, walking away before they have the chance to reply. She rounds the corner and collapses into the nearest chair. Pressing her palms into her eyes, she tries to calm her breathing. Gradually, the panic starts to recede, and she manages to take in a full breath.

Feeling someone sit down next to her, she lowers her hands from her face. When she sees it’s Morgan she tenses. He sits in silence with her for a moment, waiting to see if she’ll open up without him having to pry. When a few minutes have passed he leans back, assessing her in that particular way he does.

“Why don’t you want to see her, Emily?”

She clenches her jaw at the question, “I have seen her.”

Morgan sighs, “Alright, then. Why don’t you want her to see you?”

Emily stills, before she leans forward and braces herself on her knees. Morgan is patient, letting her organize her thoughts.

Finally, she answers with a shaking voice, “It would be selfish,” she whispers, “for me to be there when she wakes up.”

Morgan looks at her in confusion, “How would that be selfish? If anyone should be there it should be you.”

Emily scoffs, “After what I said to her? What I did? She probably hates me.”

“Emily, you know that’s not true. She doesn’t hate you.”

“If she doesn’t, then she should,” she mumbles to herself.

Morgan sighs in exasperation and stands up, “If you want to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, then fine.”

The mortification of being called out so blatantly renders her speechless. He waits, giving her the chance to defend herself, to get herself together and be there for you. When she doesn’t, the look of disappointment he gives her makes her hang her head in shame.

—

You wake slowly to the sound of beeping. Gradually emerging from sleep, you lay there, bits and pieces of the past few days slowly coming back to you.

“Emily?” You mumble, wincing in pain when you try to move.

“Hey, just relax. You’re in the hospital.” JJ, not Emily. You fight against the heaviness in your eyes, opening them just enough to see her hovering over you.

Clearing your throat, you try to get your thoughts straight. “Where’s Emily?”

JJ looks behind her to the rest of the team and they share a look that makes your heart speed up. The increasing beeps from the monitor draws their attention back to you.

Your voice shakes, “Is she okay?”

JJ sits down on the chair next to your bed, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “She’s fine, I promise.”

Her words provide some reassurance, but you still don’t understand. “Where is she?” Your eyes dart between the team, waiting for an answer.

Morgan steps forward, eyes shifting. “She’s here,” he says quickly, “She just…had some things to deal with.” It’s obvious there’s more he’s not telling you.

Your heart sinks. Of course. Why would Emily be here? She hates you. She said you were a mistake. You turn your head away, trying to hide the tears building in your eyes. You don’t want to be here. You feel exposed and vulnerable now that you’ve realised what happened between you and Emily is common knowledge amongst the team.

“When can I go home?” You whisper.

The team gives you an incredulous look. JJ utters your name in disbelief, “You almost died.”

You nod as much as your aching head allows. You guess you won’t be going home anytime soon. JJ sees that you’re about to break and motions to the team, who all give you a sympathetic look before filing out of the room.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” JJ asks, voice gentle and unimposing.

You swallow back tears and put on the most convincing smile you can manage, “Nothing, just tired.”

You can see that she doesn’t believe you. “Are you sure?” JJ asks, and you nod.

“I’m fine, really,” you smooth your hands over the rough blanket that covers you, “I think I just need to be alone for a while.”

JJ studies you, trying to discern how you’re really feeling. You try not to squirm under the observation. When she realises she’s not getting anything more out of you, she sighs and gets to her feet.

“I’ll get a doctor to come and check in on you,” she pauses, hovering next to you, “We are all here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, even though you know it’s not completely true. The one person you really need doesn’t want anything to do with you.

You keep yourself composed until JJ is gone, then you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your head into the pillow, you finally allow yourself to feel the absence of Emily.

The tears burn as they fall.

ao3

[defectivevillain]

shivering in the absence

pairing: Dylan Lenivy/Reader

The reader is implied to be transmasculine/nonbinary & has undergone top surgery. Otherwise, no pronouns or physical descriptors are used; race is ambiguous.

summary: “Were you really going to take your shirt off?” Dylan asks, averting his eyes. You get to your feet and take a sip of your water, pretending not to feel flustered by the question. “Did you want me to?” You counter, sounding much more composed than you actually are.

word count: 3.2k | ao3 version

author's notes: So I was watching Friday the 13th and came up with this… then I realized the character I wrote it for was pretty much unimportant… and so this happened. (Hence the Friday the 13th tag) …No horror elements are in this, though!

warnings: stripping/changing clothes, implied hypothermia

“I hate Monopoly,” Abi sighs. 

You nod in sympathy. Abi, Dylan, Emma, and you are all cooped up in Dylan’s cabin for the night. It’s one of the last days that the counselors will remain at Hackett’s Quarry, before you all leave for the summer. The four of you had planned on meeting up before rejoining the rest of the counselors at the fire pit outside, but the unexpected rainstorm that came curbed those plans—leaving you somewhat stranded in Dylan’s cabin. 

“Well, you’ve never played strip Monopoly, have you?” Emma grins, breaking you out of your thoughts. Abi, Dylan, and you exchange looks. Emma notices and sighs. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, it’s terrible outside.” You follow her gaze to the open window across the room. Indeed, there’s a steady rain coming down now. There were a few thunderbolts, but nothing too serious. Unfortunately, returning to your own cabin would mean getting your clothes soggy and drenched. Safe to say, you’re stuck here—and stuck playing strip Monopoly to pass the time. 

“Fine,” you acquiesce. Dylan and Abi follow your lead and surrender too. Emma really is too stubborn for her own good—there’s no way you’d be able to get out of this one. There are just some battles you can’t win, and strip Monopoly isn’t that laborious of a task. It’ll be more embarrassing than anything else. “How do we play, though?” You ask. 

“We strip,” Abi responds with a deadpan voice. Dylan chokes on a laugh and Emma smiles. 

“I got that much,” you huff defensively. “I mean, when? And why?”

“Clothing is currency, pretty much,” Emma explains. “The simple stuff—socks, shoes—are worth less. Underwear is worth the most… You get the idea.” You feel yourself frown and, when you look around the table, Abi and Dylan are wearing similar expressions of apprehension. Emma looks at you three and rolls her eyes. “If you don’t want to take your underwear off, then just play well. Duh.”

“Easier said than done,” Abi mutters. The remark goes unheard by Emma; you exchange an amused smile with Abi and she seems to relax a little. The four of you decide to make Dylan the banker; then, each of you choose your pieces and roll to see who goes first. You end up rolling the highest. Your first turn lands you on Oriental Avenue—one of the properties towards the middle of that first stretch of the board. 

“So… if I want to buy it…?” You trail off, looking to Emma for help. She glances over at the property and hums. 

“It’s $100,” she says, “so it’s worth two shoes.”

“This is weird,” you feel the need to announce, after taking your shoes off and throwing them onto the ground next to you with an exaggerated movement. Dylan hands you the Oriental Avenue property card with an amused smirk. 

“No one’s going to land on that.” Dylan remarks. You raise a brow and hand him the dice. He’s conveniently located a few spaces away from the property, ironically; if he rolls a six, he’ll land on it. Dylan rolls the dice and the dice skitters across the board, before landing to reveal a six. 

“I think you owe me a shoe,” you grin. Dylan pulls his shoe off and places it onto your open palm with a flourish. Within moments, you recoil and drop it onto the ground. “Why is there so much mud, what the fuck-?” You choke out, glancing down at the offending sneaker. Sure enough, there’s a solid layer of dirt on the sole. With the way Dylan handed it to you, you hadn’t seen the mud until it was too late. You get to your feet and head to the sink to wash your muddied hand. Abi and Emma are laughing hysterically, and Dylan joins them—wiping amused tears out of his eyes. You rejoin the table with an exaggerated groan. “I don’t think I want to play anymore.” You mutter. 

“Oh come on, that’s just the game,” Emma chastises you, taking the dice and rolling. She rolls a three and moves the Scottie Dog piece three spaces. She decides to buy the property and gives up a shoe; soon, it’s Abi’s turn and the game continues. 

After several rounds, you’re relieved to find that no one has needed to take off anything too revealing. Dylan’s shirtless; Emma doesn’t have socks or shoes; you don’t have shoes; and Abi is still wearing all of her clothing. When you reach your fourth or fifth turn, you land on North Carolina Avenue: a green property that costs $300. When you do the math in your head, you realize you’d need to give up two socks—not really a big deal—and your shirt—a much bigger deal. You stare at the property for several moments, contemplating whether you should take the risk. 

“We don’t have all night,” Abi remarks helpfully, breaking you away from your thoughts. You stare at her with a faux expression of irritation and she just shrugs. 

“I mean, she’s right,” Emma pipes up. “Just buy it already. Unless, that is, you’re scared… ”

It’s such an obvious trap. But you fall for it anyway. “I’m not scared,” you argue. And maybe, a small part of you is ultra-aware of your company right now—of a certain counselor sitting next to you, who you don’t want to look foolish in front of.

“Then buy it,” Emma dares you. 

Fuck, she’s got you now. You walked yourself right into that one, didn’t you? “......Fine.” You say. Taking off your socks is a relatively quick and painless affair. Unfortunately, that leaves you an infinitely more difficult one: taking off your shirt. You’re not necessarily insecure or unhappy with your body; you’re just not the type of person to constantly flaunt it or reveal a ton of skin. You’ve certainly had moments where you’ve felt confident enough to do so—but now, in the far too bright light of the cabin, surrounded by friends (and someone who you have feelings for), you feel extremely hesitant. 

“Well?” Emma demands. Abi elbows her in the side harshly and she promptly presses her lips shut, albeit with an outraged hiss at the temporary pain that the action caused. Abi and Emma aren’t really the ones you’re worried about… The two of them are rather hopelessly infatuated with one another, even if they don’t recognize it just yet. No, the problem happens to be sitting right next to you: staring at you with a surprisingly intent gaze. 

Feeling as if you’ve been shoved under your microscope, you take a deep breath and reach for the hem of your shirt. Dylan’s shirtless too, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’ll be completely alone in your discomfort. And you’re not ashamed of your chest—you’re proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve felt more at home in your body these past few months than you’ve ever felt. It’ll be okay, you reassure yourself. 

You’re about halfway through the motion, your shirt moving up along your ribs, when Emma’s phone pings. Everyone freezes, including you. Emma sighs dramatically and picks up her phone, eyes widening when she evidently stares down at the notification. When she notices that you’re all staring at her expectantly, she elaborates. “It’s Jacob,” she remarks, grabbing her socks and shoes and beginning to put them on. “Gotta go, guys. We’ll pick this up some other night.” She promises, tying her shoes before tugging her hood over her head and retreating. 

Abi stares at the doorway with a frown on her face, evidently not happy with the new development. You look over at Dylan, only to catch him as he looks up from where you’re pulling up your shirt. You then realize that you’re still awkwardly frozen with it halfway off. You quickly drop your hand and pretend that nothing happened. 

“I should probably go too,” Abi announces, placing her hands on the table and standing up. She’s looking at Dylan and you; it appears as if she’s going to say something else, but she seems lost for words. “I… left an excuse outside.” She immediately grimaces. You laugh and tell her it’s fine; she loosens up and leaves you both with a quick goodbye. 

Now it’s just Dylan and you sitting at the table, staring down at the abandoned Monopoly game. For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, just as you’re about to break it by forcing yourself to say something, Dylan speaks. 

“Were you really going to take your shirt off?” He asks, averting his eyes. You get to your feet and take a sip of your water, pretending not to feel flustered by the question. 

“Did you want me to?” You counter, sounding much more composed than you actually are. 

“Maybe,” he says, a lopsided grin rising on his face. 

“Hm,” you say calmly, pretending to think about it. And if you are actually thinking about Dylan and you alone in this cabin, with no one else… then only you have to know.  “I’ll keep that in mind.” You respond cheekily, putting your socks on and slipping your shoes on—tying them with slightly shaking hands. You’re jittery all of a sudden. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Dylan asks, squinting at you. 

“To the bathroom…?” You remark. Unfortunately, as nice as the cabins at Hackett’s Quarry are, they don’t have bathrooms in them. The camp is still stuck in the twentieth century in that regard—as there’s a cabin with all the bathrooms located a short walk from the counselors’ cabins. You refocus on what Dylan just asked you. “Do I need a hall pass?” You ask snarkily, with no real heat behind the remark. 

Dylan just rolls his eyes. You roll your eyes in return and leave the cabin, closing the door behind you. The rain is coming down hard now. It’s a relatively short walk to the bathroom, though—so you don’t bother to head back in for a raincoat or umbrella. The flashlight you snagged from Dylan’s living room is a godsend—as it illuminates the beaten path leading to the restrooms. 

Thankfully, the walk to the restroom is quick and relatively painless—save for how soggy your clothing is becoming. After you use the bathroom and wash your hands, you stand under the awning at the entrance and turn on the flashlight. You flick the switch a few times, but it doesn’t turn on. You groan and head out into the rain, putting a hand to your temple to prevent the water from getting into your eyes. You trust your muscle memory to take you back to your cabin. 

…Unfortunately, in the dead of night and amidst the brutal downpour, your muscle memory is worth jack shit. You get lost rather quickly, and soon you’re stumbling through thicketed trees with an increasing feeling of fear and dread coiling in your chest. You don’t want to spend all night roaming the forest. You’re somehow away from all the counselor cabins now. You try the flashlight one more time, even hitting it a few times, but it still doesn’t work. Groaning, you take a deep breath and try to retrace your steps. 

By some miracle, you manage to make your way back to the restrooms and you head off in a different direction. A few minutes pass and relief courses through you as you spot the lights of Dylan’s cabin. You’re quick to run over and stand under the awning, before knocking on the door with an unnecessary amount of force. Dylan opens the door within moments, an annoyed expression on his face. 

“What took you so long-?” He asks, breaking off as he looks at you. Dylan’s gaze wanders up and down your form, evidently taking in your drenched clothing. You’re sure you look like some sort of wet cat—soaked and unhappy. “Should’ve worn a raincoat.” He clicks his tongue, stepping aside to let you in. 

You groan in frustration, moving past him and sitting on one of the chairs at the table. You’d love nothing more than to lay on the couch, but you don’t want to ruin the upholstery. “I know, I know,” you seethe. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. And maybe the flashlight—if the stupid thing had a better battery, you would’ve made it back much faster. But instead, you were left to stumble around the campground for twenty minutes. 

Dylan rounds the table and stares at you, an uncharacteristic expression of concern on his face. You feel a shiver roll down your spine. “You’re freezing,” he states, looking at your wet clothes. “You’re going to get sick.”

You sigh in exasperation. “I’ll be fine,” you assert. The universe then decides to spite you, as you’re forced to sneeze. Dylan stares at you knowingly. You stare back unflinchingly. 

Eventually, he sighs. “You’re not fooling anyone,” he continues, gesturing to your forearms. “You have goosebumps.” You continue to stare at him stubbornly. Sensing that you won’t give in, he sighs. “Fine,” he announces. Rather than retreating to the couch as expected, Dylan leans forward and picks up your Monopoly piece. Dylan taps your Monopoly piece on a space, then another, then another—before finally letting it go. “Oops. Looks like you landed on Park Place… And what do you know? It’s my property. I think you owe me… all of your wet clothes.”

You resist the urge to groan, immediately understanding what he’s trying to do. “I see how it is.” You sigh. 

“You need to change,” he maintains with uncharacteristic sincerity. 

“Desperate to get me out of my clothes, huh?” You deflect. The effort doesn’t work, and he looks entirely unimpressed. You rack your brain for another excuse. “I don’t have a spare set of clothes—my stuff is in my cabin.”

Dylan holds up a finger, gesturing for you to wait, before leaving the room and heading for his bedroom. When he returns, he’s holding a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. He places them on the table and stares at you expectantly. 

“Fine, fine,” you acquiesce. Admittedly, now that he mentions it, you realize that you’re freezing —so much so that your teeth are chattering. You push yourself up from the chair and to a standing position clumsily, before fumbling for the button of your jeans and taking them off. Dylan kindly averts his eyes, looking endearingly awkward as he shifts his balance from side to side. You pull the sweatpants on and very nearly sigh in relief. You hadn’t realized how uncomfortable wet denim was until you removed it. 

Next is your shirt. You take a deep breath and manifest some confidence, before reaching down to the hem of your shirt. But your hands are shaking and trembling—so much so that you’re struggling to simply pull your shirt off. Your struggle must take longer than expected, because soon Dylan glances at you and frowns. 

“Here-” Dylan says, swiftly breaking the distance between you and grabbing the hem for you. Before you can protest, he’s gently pulling it up. And while you recognize that he’s trying to remove your shirt without touching you, his efforts aren’t really working. His fingertips brush against your ribs and your heart starts to race. Dylan mutters an apology and pulls your shirt off of you faster. Shirtless in front of him, you feel yourself instinctively taking a half-step backwards, only to nearly crash into the back of the couch. You stick a hand out to brace yourself and try to regain your composure. Moments later, Dylan is pushing the shirt he grabbed for you into your hands. 

While you want nothing more than to tug it over your head rapidly and forget about this whole situation, your body doesn’t want to obey. You’re still shaking ever so slightly—and your uncharacteristic sluggishness is making this task seem nearly impossible. Before you can attempt some strange contortion to get the shirt over your head, Dylan’s helping you. In the blink of an eye, the grey shirt is tugged over you. The fabric is soft and, most importantly, dry. 

“Better?” Dylan murmurs, still standing far too close for comfort. 

“...Yeah,” you say, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Dylan answers easily, finally taking a step backwards and giving you some more space. You immediately miss the warmth that was practically emanating off of him. Silence settles in the air, thick and strangely uncomfortable. Everything unspoken lingers between the two of you.  

“Well, I guess I should go…” You eventually mutter. 

“Are you crazy?” Dylan blinks at you in disbelief. “You’re just going to get drenched again.” Your traitorous mind wants to attribute his insistence to something more than just friendly concern; you’re quick to push those thoughts away, though. 

It seems like Dylan is expecting another argument, because his eyes widen in momentary surprise as he realizes you’re remaining silent. Truthfully, you want nothing more than to put up a fight, but you feel as if the energy has been completely drained out of you. And despite the fact that you changed into fresh, dry clothing, you’re still cold. 

Dylan notices that you’re still shivering slightly and frowns, before evidently coming to a decision. “Here, come on,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder and guiding you towards his bedroom. You’re so dazed that you don’t really grasp the implications until you’re standing before his mattress. You immediately glance back at him in confusion, only for him to gently push you towards his bed. You’re too exhausted to overthink everything that’s going on. 

Dylan helps you settle in and tugs the comforter over you. Even despite the added layers, you’re still a bit chilly. You burrow into the blankets and try to find a comfortable position, before settling for reclining on your back and staring up at the ceiling. Sleep is dragging your eyelids down and you blink furiously, your eyes dry and stinging. You see Dylan lingering in the doorway, seemingly unsure of what to do. You reach out to him wordlessly and his eyes widen for a brief moment.  

“Don’t want me to leave?” He then says, a playful grin on his face. He rounds the side of the bed and gets under the covers. “I guess I am pretty irresistible.” You can’t quite see the expression on his face, but you somehow know that he’s wearing a cheeky smirk.

Once he gets settled, you realize that, somehow, Dylan is just radiating heat. You try to tell yourself that you’re just cold, that you’re seeking him out for warmth and nothing more. But you know that’s a lie. You’ve grown quite fond of Dylan over the course of this summer, after all. You inch closer to him and practically burrow into his side, resting your head on his chest and feeling any of your remaining energy seep out of you. 

Despite your exhaustion, your mind is beginning to run wild as you try to justify your actions to yourself. This is just a friendly gesture. Amongst friends. Because you’re nothing more than friends… Right? 

Dylan must be a mind reader, because he looks over at you and hums. “Just sleep.” He whispers. Somehow, the remark is enough for your thoughts to calm down—for you to accept that he’s okay with this, that you’re not taking advantage of his kindness. And maybe a sizable part of you is still desperately hoping that even a fraction of your feelings are returned—that maybe, just maybe, he likes you too. 

But right now, you’re drifting off into sleep in his arms, and one thing is for sure: you’re warming up already.

endnotes: as i said, i had some of this fic written up for a character in friday the 13th… until i realized he wasn’t an important character and ended up dying… but then!!! i realized hackett's quarry is also a camp… and this happened. (*captain holt voice*) boom! had it both ways! no regrets.

i sprinkled in a bit of Abi/Emma. teehee. the gay agenda.

thanks for reading! <3

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general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

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[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 82)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (65) / Alexia Putellas x Character (38) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (19)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((4k))

JORDAN POV

“Ridley is back?!”

YFN nodded with her happy smile as she ate.

“Oh, come on chick, you have to give us more than that!”

Lucy staring like a lovesick puppy at YFN laughing did so did not go unnoticed by her. Or Leah it seemed, as she felt her leg gently moving under the table to touch her own.

“She came back yesterday. She was in the hospital yesterday evening with me getting my surgery to check in on me… and because she was getting work done too..”

Leah scoffed.

“Oh of course she did. Let me guess – she lifted a bus off of a group of school kids?”

“I know better than to ask by now,” she shrugged.

“Is she back for you or…?” Leah asked hesitantly. “Because Alexia left, didn’t she?”

YFN nodded. “Ale left yesterday afternoon but Ridley caught her on the plane. She’s with her right now, actually. Taking her away for some time together…”

“I’m surprised Alexia went, to be fair.”

“Riddles has a reason for everything she does. I’m sure Ale wouldn’t have accepted her back easily so I guarantee Riddles has been opening up to her at last.”

“She wasn’t gone for long,” Lucy noted aloud. “Thank god. I thought we’d never see her again.” She looked like she knew about the messages from Ridley – but they hadn’t quite been able to discuss the finer details of what was actually happening.

“Me too…” YFN replied with a shared expression. It made Jordan wonder how bad the leaving had been.

“Are they coming to the party on Friday?”

Lucy shot Jordan a look and her stomach dropped at the slip-up.

“The party?” YFN asked.

“The friends and family thing after the game,” Leah said, jumping in the save the day - sounding nonchalant about it all. “It’s a whole Lioness thing – it took a while to convince my folks to be fair..”

Jordan reached out under the table to give Leah’s thigh a thankful squeeze, though when she went to take her hand away, it was caught. She took a deep breath.

“Oh… I’m not sure. I don’t think they are?” Luckily – she didn’t seem to realise that the event on her birthday was in fact, for her birthday. Jordan hid a grin at how humble she was, and honestly, she was just so excited to share her birthday with her at the party. She’d not nearly spent enough time with her lately. “Friends and family? Christ, that’s a lot of people, no?”

“We won’t really get another chance until the season is over, little one.” Lucy explained. “Besides – we’ll need it after the game. We’re all so focussed on that at the moment. We need to win, and by as much as possible.”

Lucy seemed to know just how to shift her attention from thinking about the party to worrying out Lucy’s competitiveness. “You will win. And the game after that too, yes?”

She nodded. “We need to win both by a lot, and then we have a chance at the Olympics in Paris next year.”

Jordan realised then that it would most likely be Lucy’s last, and Leah’s if she started playing again soon.

There was no way that Lucy would let them lose, and that was written across her face.

“You’re going to smash it, Luce. You always do. 110%.”

She watched as Lucy softened and leant in so YFN could kiss her cheek.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Lucy murmured to her.

They all knew that she was embarrassed about the wheelchair, but she didn’t hesitate in her answer. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus, it’ll be easier to spot me, no?”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Jordan loved to see them interact like this. To see them both so happy. She let herself entwine her fingers with Leah’s under the table and watched her shift and hide a smile.

“We’ll take you in,” Leah said and then gestured to the wheelchair. “To be fair – we’ll be more looked after than any celebrity going to watch with that.”

“Oh, so not quite out of the kindness of your heart then?” YFN accused with a chuckle. “Good as a battering ram too, I dare say.”

Lucy groaned. “So help me god, if you use my girl as a battering ram, I will murder you both.”

They all laughed.

“Speaking of murder…” Jordan started.

“I’m worried where this is going…”

“What’s the latest on Kristie?”

“Oh! Yes! I haven’t asked about that either – I’ve been so wrapped up in work and events and…” YFN looked down at her immobile body parts. “…this.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose and pushed her glasses back up. “I’ve been handling it. We’re going fully in. There’s a hearing next week to tie up the loose ends. Given all of the evidence, she can’t possibly contest it.” She kissed YFN’s shoulder. “I was going to talk to you about it after Friday night…”

There was a pause and a glance between them before YFN spoke.

“Thank you, love.” She said, smiling at her, seemably knowing why Lucy did the things that she did. Jordan wondered if she’d ever get to that point again with Leah as she turned to look at her. Her popular scowl wasn’t so much a scowl as Jordan held her hand. In fact, she looked almost at peace. Happier.

She turned – having been caught, and they shared a look that made the idea of going home together nerve-wracking in the best kind of way.

They spoke about the Lumos content released as they ate, all of the footballers present happy with the response so far, and eager to hear YFN’s upcoming plans for future content and/or releases. They finished their dinner and helped to tidy up – insisting when Lucy told them to leave it. She’d had a long day at training, and YFN wasn’t exactly in a position to help either.

Jordan gave her a cuddle with the promise to see them both tomorrow, while Leah collected a sleeping Blu from his spot cuddled next to Narla on the couch.

They drove home in silence with Leah’s hand held between her own in Jordan’s lap.

She watched, leant up against the door frame to the hall, as Leah gently put Blu to sleep in his bed.

They’d explored Birmingham. Driven three hours. Socialised with their friends. It was safe to say – their batteries were quite drained for anything except each other.

The entire day had been comfort and happiness. It felt like their relationship again – only better. Different. More appreciative and noticing. She watched Leah pull Blu’s little blanket up over him and kiss him goodnight like she used to, only this time with more emotion. You never love something more than when you thought you’d lost it.

It was the same for her as it was with Leah. She noticed more now. Like the strands of her blonde fringe falling across him as she leant down to kiss his head, and the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes as she leant back and smiled at him fast asleep.

Jordan stayed there as Leah pushed herself up, albeit wincing with her knee, and made her way over to her.

“Hi, you.” She murmured as she leant against the door frame with her. The height difference had her looking down as she brushed the back of her knuckles over Jordan’s cheek.

From her earlier private conversation with YFN, she found her confidence. “Lea?”

“Mmn?” She hummed, distracted by her skin under her hand.

Jordan took a breath. “I’m ready.”

ALEXIA POV

She wasn’t aware that she still had her phone to her ear until Ridley stepped forwards into her space and gently lowered her hand for her.

“You’re here,” she whispered.

“You invited me.”

At the sound of her voice, Chiquito sprinted outside and straight up her body, settling onto her shoulder and nuzzling at her face. It softened the footballer like nothing else.

Alexia was rarely caught by surprise, and yet Ridley seemed to be able to do that far too often. She managed to take away her attention from those warm, dark eyes with dancing gold flecks, to look her up and down. She was dressed in brown lace-less boots; tan, cuffed cargo parts; a white shirt and cream open button up. Her eyes moved up her neck to her lips which she’d been dreaming about just half an hour prior and then those playful, yet comforting eyes again.

“Your hand,” Alexia murmured, reaching out to rest her fingertips on it. “The cast is different.”

“You’re very observant. I had surgery again, yesterday in London.”

“Again?!” Alexia was surprised. Why would she need surgery again? “You didn’t get into another fight, did you?”

She watched her scar move as her lips twitched. “It was… an amalgamation of things. It’ll be fine.”

Alexia pocketed the phone she didn’t realise she was still holding and took her hand between her own, raising it between the two to inspect as she gently turned it over. “Just the same as before?” She asked as her thumb stroked over her two smaller fingers, taped together.

“More or less.” Alexia found her eyes again, knowing what that meant. It was worse. Before she could question it, Ridley spoke. “Are you going to invite me inside?”

“Yes… yes. Sorry. Come in.” She led the way inside, as Chiquito leapt from Ridley to Alexia as they entered her house.

She ushered the slightly taller woman to one of the high stools at the kitchen island and saw her looking around as if memorising the place.

“If I knew you were coming-”

“It’s perfect,” Ridley cut off. “Very… you.”

Was it? Alexia looked around herself. It wasn’t particularly large, but large enough to house all of her specific needs. A small pool out the back, two spare rooms, and a master ensuite separate from the other rooms for her own privacy. Alexia liked her space.

As Ridley stared around the room and reunited with Chiquito who was now on the stool opposite her, staring like he was in love, she finished cooking their breakfast, adding a little more into the pan for her unexpected guest. Due to the state of her hand, she chopped all of it up into bite size pieces before placing it down in front of her. Alexia had never cooked for Ridley before and found herself suddenly aware of that fact.

“Thank you,” she said in her perfect Spanish and looked down, her head tilting. “Are you under the impression that I’m a small child or a bird?”

She laughed. “I will not be responsible for you damaging your hand any more than it already is.”

Ridley caught her eye and gave her such a genuine smile that it melted her. “Thank you, Lex.”

Alexia merely nodded with a smile in return, though somewhat pleased with herself.

She made her way around the marble island to sit where Chiquito had vacated, leaping up onto the countertop. She was against the idea of animals on counters, though he was different. He wasn’t interested in their food, just to be around them and he sat perched there, his tail curled around his paws as his attention shifted from one to the other as they ate in a comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something?” Alexia asked as she finished her plate.

“Yes, the food is delicious.” Ridley responded, licking the last bit of taste from her fork while maintaining eye contact.

Alexia rolled her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Where did you go?”

“Ah.” Ridley put her fork down on her plate and pushed it away. “Far enough away that I thought I’d stop thinking about you as much.”

Alexia softened at that, her heart skipping a beat. She loved when Ridley opened up and was honest with her feelings. It gave her the validation she needed. They were in this together.

“Is this the new Ridley now?” She asked, confidently. “Open and honest and her feelings?”

Ridley shared that eye contact with her – their favourite form of communication. She tilted her head slightly, as if choosing her words before she spoke.

“Is that what you’d like?”

“I’d like you to not answer my question with a question.”

The Australian smiled, her lips tilting upwards, moving that scar of hers again. Christ. Why was she so hyperaware of that?

“I believe it’s a good way to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere. So… yes.”

“Good, because it is what I’d like.”

They shared another smile as Ridley’s eyes hooded with whatever she had on her mind. It made Alexia want to shove away her pride and kiss her.

“What changed your mind? You were so against this from the beginning…” She asked before she realised she had. There was no more dancing around the subject for Alexia – she wanted all of the emotions. Anything to get out of this stale rut they had been in. God knows it had been so full of hurt.

Ridley took a deep breath, her movements slow and thought out. “I had a conversation with someone very important to me.”

Blau?

“He made me realise-”

Not Blau.

“-that what is happening between us is very special and rare, and that I owe it to a lot of important people in my life to see it through.”

That just opened up a whole other lot of questions for her. Who was he? Where did she go? Who were these important people in her life, and why had she never spoken about them until now?

She felt like Ridley could see the questions swimming around her eyes and knew from her expression that she was hesitant about sharing them. That didn’t bother her, though. Because the Australian had already come so far, and she was mindful about pushing her, like Blau had always suggested she not do.

So instead of asking – she merely stood up from her stool, took a small step forward and leant down to wrap her arms around her. Ridley’s surprise was obvious in her posture. The muscles of her shoulders and back tense under Alexia’s arms, though, she slowly softened into her.

“I’m just glad you’re back,” she said simply and honestly, letting herself enjoy the warmth, the smell and the feel of her.

Ridley’s arms came around her waist and hugged her back, both enjoying the feel of their hearts beating together, and the sides of their heads finding each other’s.

It was a while before Alexia pulled away, very aware that she was the first to break the hug, and she leant on her thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze with a smile.

Ridley flinched and Alexia retracted her hand quickly, unsure if she’d over-stepped.

“No,” Ridley stressed, catching her wrist. “I just…”

Alexia’s eye was caught by the sight of blood seeping through her tanned cargo pants. That explained it.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine. It’s just a little blood.”

“That’s more than just a little bit. Let me see.”

“Alexia, it’s fine. It’s a few stitches, that’s all.”

“How did you…” Alexia frowned as she reached out to touch her thigh near the wound. She looked back up at her as she found a better question. “Where did you go, Lee?”

Ridley sighed, her jaw shifting. She opened her mouth to speak and her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out and her face turned serious.

“I need to take this.”

And then she was up and walking out the sliding glass door of Alexia’s apartment. She watched her out there, talking while she strode back and forth, clearly about something serious. Was it work?

Alexia turned on the TV to give Ridley her privacy while she cleaned the dishes, though she couldn’t stop herself from looking out at her pacing near the pool.

Questions swam through her head until the cocktail party effect kicked in and her attention shot to the noise in her living room. She stared at it as she watched.

It was a murder just outside of Mogadishu.

‘Somalian Pirate King assassinated’ read across the bottom of the screen in bold letters.

Blurred video footage showed hundreds dead. Blood sprayed on walls of a building. A man declaring war into a camera. Politicians hiding their secrets. A rich Arabic looking man holding his son in front of him and taking full responsibility whilst thanking an unnamed group for their heroics.

The glass door wrenched open though she paid it no mind. “Alexia, turn it off.”

“…reporters told that of one the individuals were trapped in enemy territory and escaped just prior to sunrise in an aircr-…”

The TV went black.

Alexia’s eyes flickered back to Ridley who was now staring at her, waiting.

“Where did you go?” She asked again, their eyes piercing each other.

“Dubai...” Relief flooded her body at that. “…Kenya, and Somalia.”

Her eyes flicked to the TV and back to her. “That was you?”

“It’s a complicated story. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Alexia found her kit and brought it over to her. “I didn’t ask for the story. I asked if that was you.”

Ridley sighed and sat down, grudgingly. She pulled her pants down far enough to reveal the wound on her thigh. It was worse than Alexia could have imagined.

She pulled the bandage off to reveal a nasty looking stitched wound, surrounded by a bruise that took up most of her thigh. She couldn’t help but notice just how mechanically and efficiently Ridley cleaned up the blood and replaced the bandage. Like she’d done it a thousand times.

What wasn’t she saying? Her mind immediately went to the extreme. “Are… you’re a contract… killer?”

Ridley scoffed as she pulled her pants back up. “No, Lex. I have mentioned my training to you. This shouldn't be a surprise.”

“Military?”

She gave no response, which was enough of a yes to her.

“That-,” she pointed to the black TV screen. “-was the Australian military?”

She pursed her lips, and Alexia knew that it wasn’t because she didn’t want to respond. Rather - she wasn’t allowed to. But again, her lack of response answered the question.

“I didn’t realise you still did that…”

“Occasionally. And that’s the whole point.”

“They didn’t mention your names…” she said, trying to ease her frustration. Her ‘important friends’… were they military too? It made sense.

“That’s not the point, Lex. We don’t exist. This is a very dangerous issue.”

She was staring at the coffee table – and it was very clear that her mind was running a mile a minute.

Would Alexia be dragged into it all? How far would it go? The man yelling seemed very… vengeful.

Perhaps she should have been distraught. Scared away. Shocked to no end. But somewhere inside her – she already knew. She knew from the way she’d distanced herself and bore so much pain and burden. Alexia had seen that haunted shadow in her eyes before, and that could only come from something as morally objectionable as what she had seen and done.

But she knew her. Ridley wasn’t a killer, she was a protector. And although the images had been confronting, she knew it would have been justified. She’d just needed to give her time to open up this part of her life to her.

Alexia sat next to her and reached out to touch her hand with her fingertips. Ridley’s attention broke and she looked at her, a little surprised.

“Why are you not disgusted? Telling me to fuck off and never come back? You saw-” she ended her sentence abruptly.

“I know you,” she whispered, stroking the back of her hand. “You’re a good person.”

She felt like Ridley was falling into her eyes as the Australian trembled some emotions out in a deep exhale.

“Was that what your phone call was about?” Alexia murmured, enjoying that impressed look Ridley flashed.

“It was. I need to leave for a while.”

Her heart stopped. “Again?”

“Not for long. We think it’s best to avoid my usual spots for now while we… find… him.”

The man from the TV. Was he after her?

“Would you like to come with me?”

How could she ever say no to that face?

“I need to be around the team for support. I’m the Captain.”

“And the Spanish team don’t deserve you. The girls do, but management doesn’t. And I guarantee that the team wants you to take all of the time you need to rest, relax and rehab. There are other Captains for a reason.”

Was she running away from her responsibilities?

Ridley reached out and brushed her fingertips across her cheek. “You’ve given enough, la Reina. Let Alexia rest and come back stronger than ever.”

A shiver ran up her spine and she felt her pupils dilate. Honestly, she didn’t need any reason to run away with Ridley. She never had. She just needed to tell her pride to step away and realise that she would make the best decisions for her heart.

“When?”

“Hm. Well I was originally coming over to ask you to come somewhere with me tonight.. but I can call and extend our stay.”

Yes. Yes. “Where..?”

“Oh, just a little bit of a journey. Not too far. I’ll keep you entertained; I promise.”

Alexia smiled almost shyly as she leant into her fingertips. She’d never had anyone plan a holiday for her before.

Would she go? Could she go?

“Is that a yes? Use your words, la Reina.”

She didn’t give her the satisfaction of responding immediately. In fact, her pride crept back up as if remembering the hurt of the last few days. The uncertainty prior to that.

“I’m not sure,” she murmured as she moved away from her hand and took the first aid kit back to its home. She turned and almost bumped into Ridley; those dark eyes intense. She softened as she reached out and gently moved a piece of her blonde hair from her face, her fingertips gliding over her skin so softly that she could barely feel them if not for the tremble up her back.

“You’re not sure about me.” A question within a statement.

“I need to know you’re not going anywhere. And for that I need… time.”

“We don’t have time,” she replied softly, thinking hard. “I need to leave Spain tonight. Can I give you something other than time, Lex? The promise of a date. The planning of a holiday together. I could leave something here so you know I’ll always come back for it…”

“A date can be changed. A holiday can be missed. And you don’t care about possessions. Unless you have an alternative.”

“I care about you.”

“Are you calling me a possession?”

Ridley smirked. “Nobody could ever possess you, Alexia. You are not a possession. A prize, certainly.  Greater than any other. Lucky for anyone to be close enough to see, touch or hear you. Just to be in your vicinity…” She stopped herself as Alexia felt herself drowning in the beat of her own heart. “But no, not a possession.”

A pause as she took in those honest, loving words. Is that really how special she saw her?

“You won’t leave?”

“I won’t.”

“You’re here to stay?”

“For good.”

“You promise? No matter what happens?” She whispered, as if worried to scare this perfect scenario away.

“I promise. No matter what happens.”

There was nothing but pure honesty in those eyes she had to lean back to look into. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Mmn. I will always tell you the truth.”

“Oh really?” Alexia tilted her head. “Then tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m thinking that I have an alternative to time.”

And then before Alexia could respond, react or even breathe, Ridley kissed her.

[worldofheroes]

Finally Some Privacy

tom cruise x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, language, broken bone(s), age gap relationship (28yrs), secret relationship, p in v sex, daddy kink, smut with no plot

summary: after a stunt gone wrong, filming is put on pause. you fly back to LA with tom to spend some alone time together.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: whoops kinda fell for tom. I do not support Scientology.

You hated when Tom had big stunts. The stunt you’re filming today is mild compared to some of his others, but they all carried risk of injury.

You flinched as Tom hurled himself off one building and towards the other. The whole stunt was him almost missing the jump but grabbing the edge.

When he hit, something seemed off. You felt it in your gut. It was only a second, but you knew.

When Tom stood up, he ran - or rather limped - off camera.

“Okay, cut. We’re done,” Tom says.

“Done?” the director asks.

“Yeah, I just broke my ankle,” Tom says, leaning on his knees.

“What?!”

“Can someone just take me to the hospital, please?” Tom asks, slightly annoyed.

“Alright, alright, wrap it up!” the director yells.

You watch as the on set medics go to Tom and help him to a chair.

Tom glances over to you and nods. You know that means to continue your work and the two of you will meet up later.

A few hours later, you’re wrapped and released from the set. You check your phone and you have a message from Tom.

Did a real number on my ankle. Need surgery but I’ll be fine. You can come visit, say you’re with the crew and need to check on me.

You make your way to the hospital.

“How can I help you?” a nurse asks you from the desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for Tom Cruise, I’m with the film crew, I was sent to check on him,” you say.

“Of course, right this way,” she says, walking out from behind the desk and down the hallway.

“Mr. Cruise, you have a visitor, may they come in?” the nurse asks from the doorway.

“Yes, of course,” you hear him say.

The nurse motions for you to walk in the room, and she closes the door behind her.

“Hey,” Tom says softly, with a smile.

“Hi,” you say, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “I would say you’re stupid but this was just unlucky.”

Tom chuckles. “One of the least risky stunts and I do this,” he says, motioning to his leg.

“But you’re alive.”

“Yeah.”

You take his hand and give it a kiss.

“At least we’ll have a lot of time to spend together without running behind people’s backs,” Tom smiles at you.

You press your lips together. You’ve had a secret relationship with Tom for three months now, and you’ve expressed how you don’t like it being secret but understand why it has to be.

“When I get out of here we’ll fly back to LA on the private jet. A few other crew guys will be there so it won’t be suspicious. Then it’ll be just us,” Tom continues. “It’s gonna work out.”

“I know, I know,” you say, not making eye contact.

“Sweetheart,” Tom says gently, “look at me. Please.”

You take a deep breath to find the courage to look at him. You finally look up and into his green eyes.

“I love you,” Tom says.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper.

“Y/n.”

“I… I don’t know how to feel about this. It’s nearly a 30 year difference, Tom.”

Tom nods. “I know. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

You press your lips together again. “Let’s just get back to LA.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

You pause, then lean over and give Tom a kiss. Tom caresses your head and gives you a smile.

There’s a knock on the door and you scramble for your chair. Tom chuckles softly and you shoot him a look, but can’t help but smile too.

A nurse comes in. “Hi there, I’m here to go over the discharge papers.”

About an hour later, you’re helping Tom out of the hospital. Soon, you, Tom, and a few crew members are on the plane headed to New York, then LA.

You cannot wait to get off the plane when you finally land in LA. As you walk onto the tarmac, Tom approaches you.

“Y/n, I’ve arranged a car to take you home,” Tom tells you.

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“I like to take care of my crew,” Tom smiles. He opens the car door for you, and you get in.

When the door closes, the driver addresses you. “Hello Miss y/l/n. You’re headed to Mr. Cruise’s residence, is that correct?”

“Yes, thank you,” you reply.

It’s a quiet ride to Tom’s house. When you pull into the driveway, Tom is already there. He helps you out of the car.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in and kissing you.

“Tom,” you scold.

“Y/n, I trust these people with my life, they won’t say a word.”

“Okay. I trust you,” you tell him. “This place is huge.”

Tom laughs. “It gets pretty lonely.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you trying to say something?”

“Just that I can’t wait to spend some alone time with you.”

You and Tom spend most of the day watching TV, cuddling on the couch. You drift in and out of sleep throughout the day.

“Hey,” Tom whispers in your ear. “You want to move to the bed? Might be a little more comfortable.”

You yawn. “I guess, yeah.”

“If I didn’t have a broken ankle, I’d carry you there,” Tom laughs.

You laugh too. “Are you going to make it, resting for four to six weeks?”

“Probably not. I’ll probably start walking on it too soon and probably mess it up more.”

“Uh huh,” you say, moving to face him and straddling his lap. “You can’t put the movie off forever.”

“Stop being a distraction, then,” Tom says, moving his hands down your back and onto your ass.

“You’re the older one here, you should be the logical one.”

“I don’t have to be logical for the next couple months.” Tom leans in and kisses you.

You run your hands through his hair.

“You’re really pretty,” Tom mumbles on your lips.

You smile against his lips for a moment before you push the kiss deeper, and Tom responds instantly. His tongue dips into your mouth, his hands are all over your body, and you tug on his hair. A moan escapes from him, making you giggle.

“That’s not nice,” Tom mutters.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“You’re going to do that, are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it. Get to the bedroom, now.”

“I’ve never been here, I don’t know where it is,” you say against his lips as you kiss him again.

“Up,” Tom practically orders.

“Yes sir,” you say, getting off his lap.

He gently shoves you towards one of the hallways. “Walk,” he mumbles into your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

The two of you finally make it to the bedroom. Tom closes the door with a loud thud and turns his attention back on you.

“Are you really going to try to dominate me with a broken ankle?” You’re practically asking for it now. He knows it, and he’s enjoying it as much as you are.

He walks towards you. “I like this side of you,” he says. “But I’ve let you get away with too much these last few months.”

“Oh, is Daddy upset?”

“Fuck you,” Tom growls.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

Tom walks you backward towards the bed, and you fall on it.

“You really shouldn’t be doing this with a broken ankle,” you tell him.

“Fuck my ankle, alright?” Tom says, pushing his crotch against you. His cock is already hard, and you gasp.

“Tom,” you mutter.

“Sex is more important than my ankle right now,” he whispers in your ear.

He pulls your shirt off, and you work on the buttons of his shirt. Tom leans down and kisses you. You finally get his shirt off, and your hands wander his torso.

Tom kisses his way down your body, and works on getting your shorts off.

“Tom,” you mutter again.

“I got you,” he whispers into your thigh, taking your shorts off in one swift movement.

His hand gently brushes over your core and your hips buck.

“Easy, baby girl,” he says.

“Don’t tease,” you reply.

“Oh you can tease but I can’t?” Tom locks eyes with you.

“Just fuck me already,” you tell him.

“I’ll fuck you when I want,” Tom growls, pulling your panties off. He drops his pants to the floor.

“Please, Daddy,” you beg.

Tom gives you a smirk as he pulls his boxers down.

“Shit,” you groan.

Tom climbs on top of you. “Is this okay?”

“What?” you ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

“I want to make sure you are okay with sex,” he says gently.

You nod.

“I want a verbal confirmation, baby girl.”

“Yes.”

Tom smiles at you and leans down to give you a quick kiss. He reaches over to you and fumbles in the nightstand drawer.

You see a square wrapper, and Tom rips it open.

“Okay baby girl, time to teach you a lesson,” Tom growls as he puts the condom on.

“Tell me how bad I've been,” you encourage.

Tom places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You gasp at his hardness entering you.

“So fucking tight,” Tom mutters, watching himself push into you. “So tight, just for me.”

You nod, unable to speak as he starts to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to be a good girl now, for Daddy?” Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, getting more aggressive with his thrusts.

“Yes!” You exclaim as his cock hits you just right.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Daddy… I’ll be a good girl,” you gasp.

“Good,” Tom says, thrusting even harder. You didn’t think that was possible.

You feel yourself reaching your orgasm. “I’m gonna come,” you tell him.

“You need to wait.”

“I don’t think I can!”

“You’ll come when Daddy comes.”

“Please Daddy,” you moan.

“Wait.”

“I can’t, Daddy, please,” you plead with Tom.

Tom grunts. “Okay baby girl, come for Daddy,” he says, voice faltering a bit.

He thrusts two more times and you come undone around his cock.

“Oh, Daddy!” you yell.

“That’s it,” he mumbles into your neck. “Fuck.” Tom finishes in the condom.

You finish your orgasm and you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Tom stays in you for a moment, his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches in you, which makes you buck just a little.

Tom opens his eyes and chuckles. “Still feels good, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” you say, rubbing against him.

Tom smiles at you as he pulls out and discards the used condom. He lays down beside you and pulls you close.

“Damn that was good,” Tom says, kissing your hair.

“Mm hmm,” you agree with him, snuggling close to his naked body.

Tom reaches for a blanket and pulls it over the two of you.

“How’s your ankle?” you ask Tom.

“Probably royally fucked now. Recovery is likely going to take longer,” Tom says.

“Mm.”

“But that puts off the movie longer and gives us more time to fuck,” Tom whispers.

“You’ll never finish the movie.”

“As long as I can finish in you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Thomas!” you scold, laughing.

Tom laughs with you.

“I know I freaked out last time, but I love you,” you tell him, looking up at him.

Tom smiles softly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He leans down and kisses you.

The two of you spend the rest of the day in bed, in each other’s arms.

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A: Sun will R1ze!> 001-A01 Inauguration of the 0th Ward Mayor

A translation of 18TRIP's CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

Opening note:

I am playing with the male player character, canon name Kaede Hamasaki, and will be simply referred to as Kaede in the translation. It’s a choice made due to the characters referring to the player character in their own ways (switching between first & last name, using honorifics) and I don’t want to make it sound clunky by using “player” or “MC”, or alter when first or last name is used (due to the importance of it in the JPN language). However, the gender of the player character has 0 impact on the story, and the experience is the same regardless of male or female main character.

The morning comes.

No matter how painful the days you live through are. Even when you can’t see ahead within the darkness.

The sun is born anew every day and shines a light upon you as you are without pretense.

However, basking in the bright sunshine sometimes brings hope to our hearts, too.

Try to look ahead and walk.

If you can walk ahead with just one step, it will feel as if you can start the long journey that we call life.

Which makes today, without a doubt, a new beginning in my life.

TV station announcer: Here we are at the venue for the inauguration of HAMA’s 0th Ward Mayor. After being unable to meet the quota of tourists for two years in a row, HAMA is now drawing attention to the question of whether it can remain a special tourism ward or not.  

TV station announcer: Please look at this! There’s crowds of people at the venue and surrounding area—expectations for today's inauguration of the 0th Ward Mayor can be heard from all over! We will continue to report onsite! 

Kaede: (Even national TV stations are reporting on the inauguration… It’s a bigger deal than I imagined. It's a given when you think about it more thoroughly. Whether HAMA can remain a special tourism ward or not has caught the attention of each and every region.)

Kaede: (Kafka replacing his father, who served as the 0th Ward Mayor up until now, on such a big stage… I wonder if he isn’t nervous about it. Uweh, I feel the stress in my stomach.)

Kaede: (But! That difficult surgery was an easy success, and the rehabilitation also went great. If it’s Kafka we’re talking about… I’m sure it’ll be okay!)

Host: Uuuh, all ward residents of HAMA, the inauguration will commence shortly. To open the ceremony, the current 0th Ward Mayor Oguro Rihito and HAMA’s auditor, the 8th Mayor Ward of Tokyo, Shigematsu Hakkei will be taking the podium.

HAMA ward resident A: The change really is happening. Well… the current Ward Mayor wasn’t reliable, to be honest…

HAMA ward resident B: But look at that, his replacement is his son, no? I heard that he’s only 20 years old. Will this be okay?

HAMA ward resident C: My place keeps on bleeding customers since last year… If the special tourism ward status is revoked this year, then HAMA’s done for. Just ask yourself how many restaurants have gone outta business this year. 

HAMA ward resident A: Financial support from the capital is as minimal as it can get… Makes you wonder if swapping out the Ward Mayor will do any good. 

HAMA ward resident D: The special tourism ward collapses… taxes rise up to the heavens… companies stoop to bankruptcy… the end of life……  ruination destruction eradication extinction…

Kaede: (Uuuh… all this negativity left and right… But, I do understand everyone’s worries.)

Kaede: (Kafka’s dad… he’s a good person, but he honestly, genuinely doesn’t have the capability to be in charge. He’s the type to get deceived because he’s too nice for his own good…) 

Kaede: (Kafka is the one that’s more fit for this role than his dad, I think… Even then, we only have a year left in terms of time. Just how does Kafka intend to get over such a high hurdle?)

Kaede: (Still, it’s already set in stone that Kafka and I will restore HAMA together. Today’s inauguration has gotta make us understand what Kafka’s thinking. Let’s hear him out!)

Host: Thank you for waiting! The one who will assume the new role as Ward Mayor, Oguro Kafka, will take the podium!

Kafka: It’s a pleasure to meet you all, ward residents. As he said, I am Oguro Kafka. From now on I will be conducting the succession ceremony for the 0th Ward Mayor.

HAMA ward resident C: Seriously man, that guy really is just a lil’ kid. Look at that guy, Tokyo’s 8th Ward Mayor’s face. Disapproval is written all over it. 

HAMA ward resident B: It is said that supervisor Shigematsu-san is relentless. The special tourism ward will be gone with the wind if that man’s tourism reviews are low…

HAMA ward resident D: An explosion from Tokyo’s 8th Ward Mayor’s glare… An explosion from the disdain for the 0th Ward Mayor… An explosion of the unlivable city of HAMA…. An explosion for the special tourism ward to fall…  An explosion to end all that lives…

Kaede: (Uwawah… the worst of worst impressions…! I wonder if Kafka’s holding up.)

Kafka: Ahem. I am hearing concerns being voiced from all over. And of course there would be, since everyone has to be wondering what a little boy ignorant of the world can even do on his own.

Rihito: Ka- Kafka…!? The script says here that we succession should go peacefully. W-what’s the matter….!?

Kafka: Aaah, it’ll be okay, dad. Don’t let the sweat start forming obvious drops on your face.

Hakkei: Hmph, it seems that your son has no intention to properly put the effort in to begin with, Rihito. Are you truly going to pass your position as the 0th Ward Mayor to him?

Kafka: No need to be concerned. Esteemed 8th Ward Mayor of Tokyo. My father and I have discussed between ourselves that, if my surgery were a success, I would inherit his role as Ward Mayor. I ask if you could please refrain from suddenly interfering in decisions made between a parent and their child.   

Hakkei: Decisions made between family? This is a concern that will influence HAMA in its entirety—that I happen to have no say in the matter leaves me astonished.

Hakkei: Looks like someone has forgotten that the one who makes the final decision on how the financial support from the capital is distributed is no other than me. 

Kafka: Financial support… hmm.

HAMA ward resident A: Hey hey, aren’t they kinda fighting on stage? Tension’s been rough since the beginning…

HAMA ward resident D: Current Ward Mayor shaking… New Ward Mayor glaring… Tokyo’s Ward Mayor unrelenting… A sign of HAMA’s ending… 

Host: W-we’re moving on to the succession ceremony now! By your leave I, the host, will recite the statement of succession!

Host: Current 0th Ward Mayor, Oguro Rihito, will pass the torch of his authority over leading the tourism industry in all of HAMA’s 18 wards to the new 0th Ward Mayor Oguro Kafka—  

Host: Oguro Kafka takes the role of the new 0th Ward Mayor, and under the fair Law of Tourism, will engage in HAMA’s tourism industry, and lead all Ward Mayors of each ward. Can each party involved take the pledge? 

Rihito: Ah, h-have to follow the script… Yes! I pledge to transfer all authority to the new 0th Mayor Ward.

Kafka: It is an utmost honor that I will gladly accept.

Host: 8th Ward Mayor of Tokyo, Shigematsu Hakkei, in accordance with Law of Tourism, auditor of HAMA as supervisor of the special tourism ward, will give guidance and submit appropriate reviews of tourism to the state. Can the individual party involved take the pledge?

Hakkei: It is most likely that this function will be terminated by the end of this year. Be as that may, it is my assignment. As supervisor, I pledge to my role as a fair auditor.

Kafka: You’re retiring this year? So that means we’ll have a different supervisor next year~

Hakkei: Such impudence… 

Kaede: (T-the mood in the room is in the ditches…! Even though we can hear everything both of them are saying—don’t fight in front of the public…)

Host: N-now then, the insignia from the current Ward Mayor will be entrusted to the new 0th Ward Mayor!

HAMA ward resident B: Thought he was a kid too big for his britches, but… he’s a kid with more guts than we thought, right?

HAMA ward resident A: He might do things more properly than Rihito-san did…

HAMA ward resident B: That reminds me, their mother who passed away was a genius scientist… His appearance resembles hers quite well.

Kafka: Eeeh, I’m Oguro Kafka who has taken up the position of 0th Mayor Ward. To everyone in attendance, I will be discussing matters concerning the management of HAMA going forward. First of all…

Kafka: HAMA will fully cease accepting special financial support from the prefecture of Tokyo!

Kaede: (….Eeeeh!? What’s your aim here, Kafka—-!)

next chapter>>

chapter 001 side A directory: TBA upon completion

[tonicandjins]

it's swowwen."

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x reader

WORD COUNT: 700+

GENRE: established relationship

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this had to be written. please consider donating/tipping me

"it's swowwen." is the (unplanned) fifth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

“It’s done,” the text message says. “We are on our way.”

The text message from Donghyuck’s manager was enough to make you jump off your feet, barely slipping your shoes properly and almost tripping on your way out of your apartment. Donghyuck worked until one in the morning, based on the evidently exhausted text he sent saying he’d just reached the dorm. It was barely nine in the morning when you’d gotten a call from Donghyuck himself, groaning in pain, saying his wisdom tooth is going to kill him one day.

It’s been bothering him for quite some time now, and you’d told him again and again to have it removed. But there was always an excuse when it comes to the expense of his own health and well-being: his stupidly packed schedule you can’t seem to comprehend despite dating for over two years now.

It would have been the best time to say, “I told you so,” as soon as you’d heard him crying in pain, but of course, the first thing you’d done was call his manager because you know that Donghyuck would never. Because you know Donghyuck’s probably thinking of the comeback and with fear of being placed on an indefinite hiatus again. It’s an unhealthy and risky mindset—the way Donghyuck avoids the H-word by not telling people how he feels—but it’s something he’d promised he would work on.

He needs to work on it harder.

Hence, you find yourself running from your unit’s floor down to the main entrance. Donghyuck needs to be taken care of today, and with Dream’s schedule, none of the managers will be available to tend to him today, which is why they ended up deciding to send him to your apartment for the day.

A few minutes later, with careful eyes ensuring no fan or pap is around to see him, Donghyuck is nestled in the middle of your bed, snuggling with your pillows and comforter. You sit on his side, making sure he’s comfortable by fluffing up the pillows on his side.

“It’s swowwen,” he whines sleepily, evidently high from the dosages of anesthesia they gave him before the surgery. “My face. It’s swowwen.”

Unable to fight the urge to kiss him, you give him a soft, barely-there peck on the forehead, careful not to touch his face especially where it hurts. “It’s not so bad, baby. It’ll come down.”

“It’s very swowwen,” he repeats, sighing as he looks up to you. Donghyuck looks a lot like a baby right now. “I don’t want to look swowwen in pictures.”

“No one’s taking picture of you, baby,” you assure him, fixing your blanket on him and gently running your hand through his hair.

“I did,” he pouts. “I sent it in Bubble.”

You giggle. “If you don’t want to look swollen in pictures, why did you send it to Bubble?”

“My fans are going to keep it a secret,” he answers, eyelids heavy. “Don’t let me fall asleep. This is the only time I ever get to be with you.”

You smile. “Will you sleep if I come cuddle you?”

Donghyuck’s eyes give up on him, but he quickly opens his eyes, exaggeratingly keeping it open in attempts to stay away. “Come cuddle me. I won’t sleep.”

“Sure,” you say, moving one of the pillows behind him and allowing yourself to occupy the space beside your boyfriend. As promised, you cuddle him—carefully, of course. “I told you to get that removed last year. You didn’t listen.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mom,” he mumbles against your hair. “If you keep with that, I might just marry you.”

“You won’t remember anything when you wake up,” you chuckle softly, kissing his clothed chest. “Marry me, then.”

“Now?” he asks, determined. “Can we get married even if I’m swowwen?”

“Sure, we can,” you answer. “Alright. Tell me your vows.”

Donghyuck sighs. “I’m writing you a song.”

Among all the confessions, you’ve never heard this one before.

“But it’s not yet 100% completely done,” he mumbles. He’s starting to fall asleep. “So, I won’t tell you my vows. I’ll sing them to you.”

Then, Donghyuck hums a song you’d never heard of. The lyrics, as expected with his condition at this time, are all groggy and incoherent, but he sings about how cool it would be to run around and dance with you forever.

Donghyuck falls asleep like that. You wonder if he remembers all of this when he wakes up later in the afternoon.

(He doesn’t. He doesn’t even remember posting a picture of himself all swowwen.)

[wosoragebaiter69]

sometimes it’s hard

leila ouahabi x fem!reader

request: here & here

A/N: leila is one of my fav players, like i don’t support city but i’ll always support bae ☺️(also i made reader english.. i don’t like england but for the sake of this story)

TW: swearing, women’s footballs worst injury (too painful to say after Sammy K)

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

I lined up in the tunnel, ready to play against Manchester City. The game means nothing but it was a friendly set up between 2 different clubs. To learn more playing styles what not. This meant though, that I’m playing against my secret girlfriend. Who also happens to be lining up with some of my England teammates. I share a quick glance with her before walking out.

After all offical motions are done, the on-field players get in position ready for kick-off. I can’t help but feel something off, in the pit of my stomach, but ignore it attempting to move on with the game that’s just started.

With Leila and I both being defenders, we both don’t usually cross paths often, so that’s good. The game is going pretty smoothly for Barça, 3 goals in the first 45, Leila has stopped quite a fair amount of our attacks on goal. Which is not surprising considering she knows the playing style having been on this team and playing with the Spanish players.

It’s in the 63rd minute, I’m attempting to stop my national teammate Lauren Hemp from scoring when I feel a rip through my knee. It immediately crumples underneath me and I groan, trying to hold back tears.

I make out Lauren kicking the ball away nearing my side immediately.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” I can hear the worry in her tone.

“Hempo… I think it’s my ACL, please. I can’t continue.” I open my eyes and more people crowd around me. Chloe and Alex are also here, along with Alexia and Lucy.

“Hey, the medics are coming to assess you. Then they’ll take you off yeah?” Lucy speaks. I nod, I only want one person and she isn’t here.

“Can someone get Leila? Please.” All the girls look confused at the request but call her over nonetheless.

She comes rushing immediately, and I watch as she gets on her knees next to me. She arrives just before the medics and lifts my head up against her lap.

“It’ll be ok amor, I’ve got you. If this injury is what you think it is, I’ll be there for you ok?” Tears well in my eyes and I cry into her shorts, missing the exchanges between the other players.

The medics look at my knee.

“Can we feel it? We do suspect it’s the ACL and we’ll need scans.” I nod and they prob around as I flinch, my breath hitching.

“Yeah. we’re going to have to get you on a stretcher and off the pitch immediately. Then straight to hospital.”

“Ok.” Is all I meekly mumble, as I’m lifted up.

“Leila?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Si?”

“After the game, will you see me?” She looks heartbroken for me.

“Of course cariño. I’ll be by your side always.”

- - - - -

I’m in the hospital, the scans have come back with my worst fear coming true. It means I know I won’t be playing for months. If it doesn’t go smoothly then I’ll end up having more problems, like Alexia. It’s hard, for anybody.

I’m kicked out of my thoughts when Leila comes in, freshly showered and in Man City gear.

“Hey.” She says softly, placing her lips gently on mine. “How bad is it?” I sigh.

“Fucking ACL, I’m out for a hefty bit now.” I don’t even have the strength to cry anymore, I’m so exhausted.

“I’m so sorry, when’s the surgery?”

“Tomorrow, they’re keeping me here overnight.” She nods.

“So will I.” My brain freezes.

“No Leila, you can’t. You have to get proper sleep.” I try and argue, but to no avail.

“I told you I’d be by your side did I not? So I will be. After surgery, you could always come back to Manchester with me until you need to start the rehab.”

“You’d allow me to?”

“Of course cariño, anything for my favourite girl.” I smile leaning over the hospital bed rail, placing my head against her chest.

“Te amo.”

“Te amo mucho.”

- - - - -

After the surgery, we end up telling both of our teams about the relationship, and decide not to tell the fans because from the interaction they saw on the pitch… they know anyways.

People had surprised reactions but were happy otherwise. I end up going with Leila to Manchester, and to spend a long time with her in my hometown is the best thing to come around from this injury.

[diazsdimples]

Inspiration Saturday/ Several Sentence Sunday

I started a new wip. No one look at me.

The inspiration from this shamelessly comes the fact that I've been working in labour and delivery for the whole month of May and there's an obstetrician/pediatrician couple here that always see each other in the OR and I instantly thought of Buddie. So please enjoy the first (long) snippet of Doctors AU, featuring Obstetrician!Eddie and Pediatrician!Buck. The rest of the 118 will also feature in the obstetrics/pediatrics field, although roles are yet to be confirmed. I'm not 100% sure about this and a little nervous about sharing it cause sharing words has felt weird lately, so I'm sorry if it's not great!

Tagged for Inspiration Saturday by @inell @hippolotamus (eventually smh) @cal-daisies-and-briars @dangerpronebuddie and @daffi-990 (I will be getting to all your snippets so soon!) Snippet under the cut to save your dash.

Eddie pushes through the doors of the NICU, his chest heaving. He doesn’t do this; he doesn’t let patients get to him. He’s a professional. He performs a surgery, delivers a baby, stitches up the mother and moves on to the next one.

Except today, he can’t.

Eddie strides down the corridor until he’s in the nurses’ station and begins to scour the brightly lit electronic board with all the patient’s names.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s fucked up, that he should have called it sooner and rushed the mother to surgery the second he’d been asked to see her. She’d been labouring for hours, and she was tiring when they called him in to review her. One look at the monitor by her bed had told him all he’d needed to know – that her and her baby were in distress, and something needed to be done.

But, she’d clutched his hand and begged him to let her try just a bit longer.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaky breath as he tries to rid his mind of the memory of hearing the baby’s heart rate drop on the monitor. Even after being an obstetrician for 10 years, nothing will ever prepare him for the gut-wrenching fear that comes during an emergency. The way you hold your breath and will it to increase, counting in your head as you wonder how much longer you let it go before you dive for the emergency button. He’d done an examination when it was clear the heart rate wasn’t going to recover, to see if there was any chance she could push the baby out, and his heart had sunk into his shoes when he’d felt the umbilical cord before he was even up to his second knuckle.

Taking some deep breaths through his nose, Eddie opens his eyes and scans the board, trying to find the name. It’s possible it’ll be too early – the nurses might not have admitted the baby on the system yet, but the pit in his stomach grows with each passing second that he doesn’t find it.

There’s a noise behind him – someone clearing their throat – and Eddie spins around as a deep, calming voice speaks.

“Hey man, can I help you with something?”

Eddie is instantly taken aback by the man in front of him. He must be new, because Eddie’s certain he’d remember if he’d seen this guy in the OR, and he’s looking at Eddie with concern, his eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes piercing into Eddie’s. He’s tall and muscular – obscenely so for (Eddie assumes) a pediatrician, with dark blond hair that’s been plastered with a criminal amount of hair product. He’s in a pair of delicate pink scrubs, with a white lab coat over the front. There’s a small, rainbow watch hanging from the breast pocket of his coat, and a name badge on his chest, with two tiny feet drawn just beside his name.

Evan Buckley.

“Hey, I’m Dr. Diaz – uh – Eddie,” Eddie says, awkwardly extending a hand towards the man. His grip is firm but warm, and his hands are soft, although Eddie’s not sure exactly why he’s noticing that.

“Dr. Buckley,” the guy replies with a friendly smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Everyone calls me Buck. You looking for someone in particular?”

Eddie turns back to the board with a frown, folding his arms, and Buck sidles up next to him, mirroring his stance. Their shoulders brush, and Eddie notices how the guy is just a couple of inches taller than him. Interesting.

“Yeah I’m – uh – I’m looking for baby McKinnon? Born about an hour ago via emergency caesarean due to cord prolapse and obstructed labour, resuscitated immediately after birth and bought here.”

Buck frowns and pulls out a list from the pocket of his scrubs.

“Is everything okay with the mother?” he asks as he scans his list, “You’re an obstetrician, right?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, pulled through surgery and is in recovery now. Just wanted to check up on the baby – he looked pretty rough.”

Buck lets out a deep sigh next to him and Eddie whips his head around, doing a double take when he sees Buck’s expression.

God, no, please no, let him be okay, let him have survived, he’s just mixed up with someone else.

“I’m sorry, man,” Buck says gently, resting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We couldn’t stabilise him. He was so hypoxic and they couldn’t intubate him and we – I’m sorry.”

Eddie must make a noise because the hand on his shoulder tightens. His chest feels tight, like he’s not getting enough air, the world is beginning to spin. He take deep, gulping breaths of air as he tries to regulate himself, but it’s not use.

It’s too close. Too much like Christopher. His son, his perfect, 7-year-old boy, looked just like that kid when he was born. Eddie’s too close to this. He’s gotta get out.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Eddie shakes himself from Buck’s grip, blinking furiously as tears threaten to spill down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta – I need to go,” he says hurriedly, his voice cracking, and he turns on his heel. He doesn’t run from the room, but it’s a close one. He barely even registers Dr. Buckley calling after him as he briskly walks down the corridor, practically throwing his swipe pass at the door, and then he’s in the stairwell before he knows it, drinking in the crisp, cool air as he slides down the wall and comes to a rest on a step.

Fuck.

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan @babybibuck

@aroeddiediaz @spotsandsocks @bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg

@jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @exhuastedpigeon @houseofevanbuckley

@epicbuddieficrecs @kitteneddiediaz @hermscat @worriedbisexual @thekristen999

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @simpingforhotfictionalcharacters @loserdiaz

@elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @smilingbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings

@spagheddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie

[aealzx]

After Leo took Leon to where the sink was, Don turned his attention fully to Raph and April. “Hey, Raphie. How are you feeling?” he asked, resting his hands on Raph’s knees and ignoring the way Raphael’s nose wrinkled and head pulled back at the nickname.

“Uhhh… okay,” Raph responded, nervous and semi distracted from looking around the room. Leon had said Donnie and Lil Mikey would be in the same room they were going to, so he wanted to see them for himself. They were a little distance away, but not far. Two of the beds on the opposite side of the room cradled their sleeping forms, and while they looked a little banged up their slumber still looked peaceful. Glancing down he saw that April had noticed them too, but still chose to stay by his side. Having scooted up onto the table next to Raph, April protectively wrapped her arms around his forearm to offer comfort for both of them.

“Considering your leg is broken and you look like you have a fever, that’s a really nice answer to hear,” Don chuckled, not minding April’s presence at all. “Aside from your leg hurting, can you tell me how you feel? Does anything else hurt? Are you cold? Was that a shiver?”

The questions came quickly, and Raph felt his brain break off into clouded static as they continued to be thrown at him. Watching Raph’s expression blank out, Raphael had to chuckle before resting a hand on Don’s shoulder to remind him to slow down. Thankfully Don obediently snapped his mouth shut to give Raph a chance to respond. “Yeah… a little cold. Head hurts a little too, but not bad. Mostly just my leg.”

“Okay, that’s not too bad then. It sounds like you probably have an infection, so if Leo doesn’t already have you on antibiotics we’ll add some to the saline IV once we get that started on you,” Don spoke gently, keeping his hands on Raph’s knees and rubbing slightly. “I’ll also have Raph - my brother- fetch a heated blanket for when we’re done. It shouldn’t take too long, but unfortunately it’ll still be longer than taking care of Mikey’s shoulder. About three to four hours. Are you going to be okay to lay still for that long? My brothers and father can keep you company.”

It was a little disorienting, hearing what Leon usually told him coming from someone else. And the mention of Lil Mikey having needed surgery before too was alarming. But Raph tried to keep that in the back for now. His job was to behave, and let people take care of him. He had to remind himself of that as he nodded at the question. “Yeah, I can do that…. Can April stay with me?” He didn’t want to be alone. Leon would be there, but he would be busy, and Raph wanted someone he could hug if he needed to.

“You bet I’m staying, big guy. They couldn’t force me to leave even if they wanted to,” April spoke up, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

Raphael had to snicker as one side of his suspicions for who April was were confirmed. He couldn’t figure out if she were the other dimension’s April, or Angel, her mannerisms being so fiery compared to Mom April. And being a kid herself, she obviously didn’t have kids of her own, so that was another difference from their dimension’s April. He hadn’t been expecting their version of April to be close to the same age as the brothers, but he was glad to see that she seemed just as emotionally close to them. If not more. He didn’t think Mom April had ever called them brothers. She was usually joking with Master Splinter about them being her kids.

Don could only snicker at the response too, and nod in agreement. “Sure, April can stay. And if either of your other brothers wake up and want to come over before we’re done they can stay too.”

It was calming to hear that, and Raph’s nerve stilled slightly at the reassurance.

When Don saw that Raph didn’t have additional questions, he continued to explain what would happen. “Your brother Leo will be helping fix you up, so you can ask him anything you want during the surgery. We’ll just be behind a curtain so you don’t have to see anything scary, and your whole leg below your knee will be numbed up. We’ll get your bones straightened back out, and secured in place with some titanium plates that we can remove later if you want. Then we’ll get the wound all cleaned and stitched up, and move you to the other beds to get some rest. Does that sound okay?”

It sounded simple enough, and Raph was grateful Don didn’t give him any more details than that. He didn’t need to know how they were going to set his bones back into place. Just that they were. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Raph nodded, trying not to be too nervous. Four hours was a long time to have someone messing with the inside of his leg, but with the others there he tried to be confident it would pass quickly.

“Great!” Don chimed, giving Raph another pat. “I’m going to follow Leo to get washed up then. We’ll be back soon. And Raph will stay here with you.” he informed, waiting for another nod from Raph and April before he headed to the sinks.

Once Don was away, April looked directly at Raphael. “What happened to my other brothers?” she demanded, keeping her voice level but firm.

Raphael had his brows raise in brief surprise, but then gave a slight grin folding his arms slightly. “...How old are you?” he asked instead, aiming to cater his answer based on how well he thought she could handle the information.

“Eighteen,” April answered quickly.

“A highschooler?” Raphael asked for clarification.

“College,” April corrected.

“Oh, congrats,” Raphael responded easily, taking a seat on the nearby stool once more and resting his hands on his knees. “They’re doing alright, just worn out. We had a little run in with a crazy scientist that roughed them up and poisoned them, but they’ve already been given the antidote several hours ago. Lil Mike also got caught in some crossfire, so Don and Leatherhead took the bullet out of his arm when we got back. And Lil Donnie is recovering from a bit of blood loss, but Lil Leo seems to think he’ll be fine after his ‘reboot nap’,” he explained, repeating the term Leon had used.

“Mikey got shot?!” Raph blurted, his level of concern immediately maxing out as he shifted anxiously. If he hadn’t already resigned himself to stay put before now he would have been on his feet and off to check on his littlest brother.

But Raphael was quick to raise his hands to reinforce keeping him where he was. “Yes, but it’s already taken care of. Other than keeping the bandages clean and letting him sleep there’s nothing more any of us can do,” he assured.

“Want me to go check on them?” April asked, a little quieter as she looked up to Raph. She personally wanted to check on them, but she also didn’t want to leave Raph alone if that ended up making him feel worse. He did ask for her to stay there earlier, but at her question he gave a worried nod. “Okay, I’ll be right back,” April assured, giving Raph’s arm a pat before wiggling off the table to head towards Lil Mikey. Leon had laid Lil Mikey on his back when he’d tucked him in, but Lil Mikey had already rolled over on his belly, face squished into the pillow he was hugging with one arm. His injured arm was limp next to him, and when April reached over to slowly rub his back a few times he drew a deep sigh of content as he smiled softly in his sleep.

Grinning slightly, April huffed a quiet laugh before she reluctantly pulled her hand away and quietly headed over to Donnie. She didn’t want to wake them, but it was hard not to touch them after everything. When she reached Donnie she noticed he seemed only slightly less peaceful than Lil Mikey, but also wasn’t a fitful rest. Resting a hand on his cheek earned a tiny noise from him as he wiggled his fingers barely far enough out of the blanket to grab onto her arm, and rolled into her hand. April chuckled again, grateful that the stress seemed to smooth a little more from Donnie’s features from the contact. She stayed where she was just a little longer so she didn’t wake him by moving too much in too short of time, but then reluctantly pulled away to be able to report back to Raph.

Clambering back up to Raph’s side, April confidently hugged his arm again. “They’re okay. But I’m sure they’ll love a snuggle buddy once you and Leo are done,” she assured once she was comfortable again. She didn’t have to say much more than that for Raph to know how his brother’s were doing. They were safe, but they probably still had some emotional distress they needed to get rid of.

They weren’t able to get any more conversation off before the other three returned, Leon and Don having sterile gowns on and gloves, and Leo keeping his distance from them. “Eyyyy Raphie, I heard Donasaurus gave you the rundown. You up for laying down and getting fixed up now? We’re ready when you are,” Leon chimed, his light steps and finger guns towards Raph betraying his bubbling excitement.

The new nickname for Don from Leon caused Raphael to snort and choke on his breath, letting out a mix between a laugh and a short series of coughs. “W-what?” he laughed, looking over to Don, who could only give a soft sigh.

“He found out I really like dinosaurs,” Don offered as an explanation, both embarrassed and mildly amused, letting Raphael suffer in his smothered laughter.

Raph gave a small chuckle at Leon’s enthusiasm, and tried to keep his anxiety from bubbling up again. “You seem excited,” he commented, trying to divert the attention away from himself.

“Course I’m excited. This has got to be the coolest thing I’ve done in my life so far. I’m sure something will top it eventually, but for now I’m going to revel in the experience,” Leon admitted lightly, coming to stand in front of Raph. “Plus I get to help my big brother feel better. How could I not be excited?”

The comment earned varying types of chuckles from the others, and Raph’s shoulders relaxed a little more once again. “Okay. Raph’s ready,” he agreed with a nod.

With some shuffling around they were able to get Raph laying on his back on the surgery table, having to adjust it to fit him better. April scooted to sit at his head, her lap acting as an extra pillow for now, until she got tired from sitting in one place and needed to move. And as the curtain was pinned up to obscure Raph’s lower half, Raphael scooted the stool over and leaned on his elbows, finally asking the question that had been in his mind for a while now. “So kid… you like wrestling?”

The way Raph’s eyes lit up at the mention of the performance sport, a deep gasp pausing his answer, caused Raphael’s mouth to spread into a huge smile. Oh yeah. Finally someone with taste. “Have you heard of Ghostbear?” Raph asked, almost in awe having someone ask him about wrestling.

“Nope. But tell me aaaaall about him,” Raphael admitted with a chuckle, making himself comfortable for the retellings Raph would get into. April could only give a grateful laugh, mildly surprised that it would be that easy to keep Raph distracted and watching him babble on with fondness. What started as enthusiastic retellings of their favorite wrestling matches ended up becoming show and tell as Raph remembered he had a few videos downloaded to his phone. They couldn’t look up anything he didn’t have, but it was still enough to get Raphael cheering along with him, wincing at some of the moves, and laughing at the hype. The videos from Raph just motivated them looking up more videos online, which made the hours pass easily. Eventually April had to wiggle out from under the pillow, but she still remained next to Raph as he and Raphael continued to gush about their favorite sport.

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Previous Next

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Still on vacation, but I wiggled another one out amidst working on OC stuff =7= Enjoy~

[yaut-jaknowit]

If it's okay, can you have a trans male reader who needs help with changing the bandages after top surgery? And/or needing help. Since you can't lift you're arms up, or you'll rip out stitches

Its fine if you don't wanna do this request, I just thought it'd be wholesome in stuff

Coarse Hands Morph to Soft

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (male Yautja) x FTM!Reader

Word Count: 2145

Summary: After your surgery, your movements are restricted. Even putting on a shirt is more difficult than it should be. Mai'tuiudh is here, at your side, to be your arms. He's there for you, through thick and thin.

Author Note: I want to state that Mai isn’t being transphobic or anything of the sort. I hope that I nudged towards his thought process enough. He just doesn’t understand. His mind works on the prey/predator/hunter lifestyle. A wound weakens you, makes you stick out and easy food. So he doesn’t understand why purposely hurt yourself to become more like prey. I do like to make my art semi-realistic.

Masterlist

Ao3

At first after the surgery, your mate was both confused and concerned about the whole ordeal. Mai’tuiudh didn’t know how to think about the fact you willingly changed your body. It puzzled him and his hunter brain. Why alter your body, putting yourself at risk for injury and infection? This made you look weak, something a predator would take advantage of.

Altering your body in this extent wasn’t part of his culture or society. When you had told them what type of surgery was happening, he freaked out and fretted over you. But you had sat him down and explained everything completely to him. He knew you preferred to be called by masculine pronouns. It only took him a couple of days to rewire his brain to do that. He still loved you nevertheless.

His concern wasn’t the fact you weren’t wanting to look feminine anymore. But now you’ve come home, weak, shaking, seeming drunk on Cn’tlip. Your friend leaving you to his caring hands for however long it’ll take for you to recover.

That first day, you slept off the drugs lingering in your system. You awoke to find Mai sitting on the end of the bed. A tablet in his hands, back bent at what had to an uncomfortable position. He thumbed the screen, scrolling through the words appearing.

You raised a fist to rub at your eyes but immediately hissed at the pain stinging. A reminder of what you did yesterday. Despite the pain, you smiled, eyes closed with content. It finally had been done.

It taken years of fighting, arguing, and dismissals to find the right doctor who ask if you wanted to this once. Then boom, a date was scheduled, and the surgery was completed.

The bed groaned under the shift of weight. Mai moved to sit at your side, hands cupping your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he questioned. Your eyes slowly peeled open to find your mate hovering over you. His burnt orange eyes were sealed on your face. They flicker between your own orbs. You laughed softly and lifted a palm to hold his lower mandible.

Yet, he sat to far up to reach. Unfortunately. Oh, how would you ever survive without him. “Yes, Mai. I’m alright. Not used to my limited motion now,” you explained and turned your head enough to lay a kiss on his palm. The Yautja’s shoulders sagged. He leaned down to pressed his forehead against yours.

Mai’tuiudh stayed there much longer than necessary but neither of you were complaining. His warmth left once he sat back up. You go to make the same move, albert slower and less delicate. A massive hand was place on your upper sternum. “Stay. I be back,” Mai demanded firmly before slipping off of the bed.

Amused about this new, different side you’ve never seen from Mai, you waited under the sheet for the Yautja to return. His years as hunter silenced his steps despite weight twice your own. He moved about the apartment, just showing up when he passed the open bedroom door. Just a flash of his navy blue skin.

In a reasonable time, Mai returned, arms full of supplies. Stuff that hadn’t been in your apartment before. An accusing look was thrown at the bad blood but he brushed it off.

The items were set at the foot of the bed. He shuffled through them. A water bottle was set on the nightstand next to you. “I’ve been up night, scanning information about… this. You need rest. No moving arms. Can’t shower. Bandages must stay clean. Nausea is possible. Have fizzle… drank and dry, crunchy squares. Those help,” he spewed out and motioned to everything he’s gathered while you slept.

Even though you knew he stole these things, your heart warmed at his determination. Your eyes sparkled while looking up at him. “Mai, I, I can’t say thank you enough.” His acceptance despite not understanding everything mentally was soul-stirring. Your eyes began to water. He stayed up to research the care needed after your surgery. He wanted to help you, protect you.

A grunt sounded from the blue Yautja. His head shook side to side. “No thanks. My mate needs me, I be there for him.” Your arms moved within their limited space towards him. Mai understood what was asked of him and crowded your space.

His weight was minded as he straddled your waist and didn’t dare put any other parts on you. This allowed your arms to reach for his sides. Just enough to give him a half hug. The Yautja purred thickly in his chest and tapped his forehead to yours.

The moment didn’t stay long. Mai untangled from you and stood back at the side of the bed. “Rest. Eat. Stay here,” Mai gave you his three conditions and pointed a firm finger tipped with a black claw at you. You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

“Okay.” Not any arguments from you. He was your caretaker. He won’t let you lift a finger. Not while he was around.

His gaze stayed on you, knowing how you liked to sometimes defy him. This time, you stayed. He grunted and slowly walked backwards out of the room. Those orange orbs of his never leaving you until the wall physically blocked it.

You laid in bed at his order, unable to untense the corners of your mouth. Maybe the recovery won’t be so bad while you had your lover around.

.

After the first two weeks passed, moving became a little easier. For you, lifting your arms higher than your shoulders was still forbidden. Mai was right there for you. He rarely left your side if it could be helped. And when he had to leave the confines of the apartment, it was only to go on supply runs. Then, Mai’tuiudh would be back within arms reach to ensure you healed quickly. His hunter’s mind fretting over how much you looked like prey now. More than usual.

The surgeon had given the go ahead on changing the bandages yourself. This would be your first time. Said doctor specified to have someone here to help you change them. It required you to lift your arms a hair higher than what you’re comfortable with.

Mai didn’t mind. He preferred it to be him. As his years as a bad blood have gained him many, many wounds, he was well equipped to simply change your bandages.

With your butt on the counter, you gazed gingerly at the hardened, navy blue face of Mai’tuiudh. A shirt still hung off of your shoulders, too big for your body. The perfect size. His massive hands were gripping on your thighs while the Yautja peered into your eyes as well.

You leaned up carefully and placed a chaste kiss on the bottom mandible closest to you. The counter offered only an extra couple of inches to reach him. “I can’t thank you enough for your help, Mai.” He chittered quietly, mandibles clicking to each other after the kiss. He rubbed his forehead to yours, eyes closing almost all the way.

His fingers drifted up to graze against the hem of your shirt. A silent ask. You reached down yourself, an action you wanted to do. Your eyes clenched shut, thoughts on the verge of running wild when you felt a hand cup yours. No, you didn’t want to deal with this by your lonesome. There was someone here willing to do anything for your comfort alone.

Together, in tandem, the two of you began to peel the shirt up to reveal skin to the cool bathroom. Once you reached the limited range of your arms, you halted, grasp falling away. But you gazed up into Mai’s burnt orange eyes and quirked the corners of your mouth up. The tiniest of nods given to him.

He finished the rest of the way for you. The shirt carefully pulled off to reveal what you’ve done to your body. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen the bandages but this moment… it felt different. You were going to go further than before after the surgery with him.

His blue form pulled away, his warmth being stolen away. You released a whine and looked at him with doe eyes. He chuckled and rested those large hands of his on your hips. “Can touch wounds now?” he questioned patiently. Mai waited for you.

The lump in your throat was swallowed down. “Yeah,” you barely whispered above your breath to allow him. All of this was just soft, ginger movements and words combined into one. Not even the creaky bathroom fan could disturb the moment growing between the two of you.

After his release, Mai stayed where he was for an extra few seconds. His hands left your hips to cup at your ribcage. He didn’t move when you flinched, lungs seizing up. It was an uphill battle to take another breath afterwards. But, during this whole time, Mai didn’t move. He let you control the pace, being the one in control. Your heart swelled.

Your head dipped. Mai let a hand start to pick at the corner of the tape. It peeled up after the third try. In its bony cage, your heart thundered like a storm in your eardrums. Sharp talons pinched the tape and began to pull it off of your body.

Goosebumps prickled along your skin in reaction. The peeling didn’t hurt, not the way you would’ve thought with a bandage. Instead, it felt strange. That’s what you attempted to focus on instead of what was hidden now underneath. You knew it would take time to learn that the scars would be okay. Only a reminder of what you were once before. This was for the better.

More tape on the same side was removed in the same fashion. Mai took his time with each strip. A hunter knew patience. If they didn’t, they no longer breathe. It was a virtue. A necessary skill to be engraved into each Yautja that comes to life.

Once that side was completed, the tap and soiled bandages in the garbage, Mai’tuiudh stopped. His now free hand returning to its place to cup at your sides.

Slowly, you grasped at his other limb and rested it upon the last bandage to be removed. Mai took the silent permission to continue his pathing.

After the last tape fell away with covering, you shutter at the new cool air brushing against the sensitive skin. “You okay?” he rumbled and placed his foreheat to yours once more. It was a position he found himself in a lot. Not that he was complaining. Just a sign he truly cared about you.

“Yeah,” you hummed, eyes closed. Thankfully, he had you sitting on the counter, back to the mirror that hung off of the off white walls. Your throat bobbed with a heavy swallow. “Does…” your voice died off but Mai waited for you. “Does it look bad?” You don’t know why you wanted his reassurance. This had been something you’ve been fighting for for years. A change, a huge change like this was hard to come to terms with immediately. Like getting a new dog after your last one passed.

One of his thumbs glided across the skin underneath one of the open wounds. “The scars will show your survival,” is his answer. Right. Scars. His culture loved scars. Not that you minded his scars. Though, some did worry you. How did he survive if it looked like his guts were spilled.

“I don’t think I’ll ever accept the scars,” you spoke truthfully to your mate. Said Yautja tensed before making a chuffing noise.

His warmth was stolen away as the hunter stood up to his full height. He towered over you. Predator and prey. “Was this battle?” he asked, voice hardened the best it could with his alien accent.

It took a moment to release what he was getting at. You whispered a ‘yeah’ to him. “Your scars show battle has been won. You won this fight. You survived. Be proud. Wear scars proudly!” Despite being a bad blood, the Yautja still followed some of the codes grounded into his mind as a child. Some morals and thought process like when it came to scars.

If your mate accepted and fought for you, that’s all you needed in life. He didn’t understand a lot of things, like the need to change your looks in this sense. But guess what, he accepted you. He asked questions and went on his way. You smiled up at him with adoration shining brightly in your eyes.

“Okay,” you agreed. Mai’tuiudh leaned down and licked your cheeks, hands grasping at the sides of your head. Everything would be okay. You had your mate at your side, a place he deserved to be.

[mrchiipchrome]

ummm… 25 with viv miedema if that’s ok

prompt 25. -It will be okay, as long as you’re here with me.

If you want to request, there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist:)

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

Watching Viv go down, clutching frantically at her knee broke your heart into a trillion pieces.

The first thing that came to your mind as one of the physios was those three dreaded letters, the mechanism of injury pointing to it being the most likely option.

Her heart shattering cries only getting louder as you neared her, kneeling by her writhing body as she kept on crying.

Turning her body over, the dutchie has tears pouring down her face while she keeps her grip on her knee.

The girlfriend part of you wants to wipe her tears away and tell her everything’ll be alright, but the professional side knows that is not possible.

Right now you weren’t her girlfriend, just the team medic. Or at least that was what you convinced yourself.

“Viv, baby, can I touch your knee? I need to baby” The football player nods her head under the forearm she placed over her eyes.

Taking hold of her calf and her upper leg, you lift her calf towards you slightly, performing a lachman test to see if your suspicions were correct.

The results were concerning to say the least, and your own tear nearly falls at the look your girlfriend gives you. It’s almost like she knows.

As you gesture towards the bench for a sub, the other trainers bring out the stretcher to place your girlfriend's body on. The tear from before finally falls as you help carry Viv off the pitch, now being able to be her girlfriend.

Taking her into the physio room, she gets moved from the stretcher onto the uncomfortable bed. Quiet sobs take up the space in the silent room, you and Viv being the only one there.

“It’s my ACL isn’t it Y/n/n?” The tears well up in her eyes again, this time not because of the pain but rather the helplessness she’s feeling. Fact is, you knew exactly what she felt, having suffered one while you were playing in high school.

“Vivi, we have to run more tests and go in for a scan-” You start off softly, not wanting to make the girl any more upset. It doesn't work the way you wanted it to, seeing as it made her even more upset.

“Y/n, just tell me straight up. Be doctor Y/n and not girlfriend Y/n.” She concludes and you let out a sigh, dragging your hand down your face.

“Viv, it’s very likely that it is a tear of the anterior cruciate ligament due to the mechanism of injury as well as other factors. We won’t know for sure until you get your scans done but I would recommend preparing yourself for the worst.” The monotone doctor's voice you put on makes Viv slightly uncomfortable, used to always hearing your emotion filled voice.

“Can I be girlfriend Y/n now?” You ask the forward quietly, and when she nods you stand up from the desk chair you’re sitting on. Pulling her head into your chest, you stroke her hair calmly as she sobs.

Kissing the crown of her head, the whispers of sweet nothings floating through the stale sickly smelling air.

“It’ll be okay my love, shhh shhh it’ll be alright” You reassure her quietly, pressing kisses to her hair every so often.

“But only as long as you’re here with me, I can’t make it without you Y/n” Viv mumbles into your chest, the muffled words breaking your heart yet again.

Separating your bodies, you make sure that you look her in the eye when you say;

“Vivianne Miedema, nothing will ever make me leave your side. You won’t get rid of me easily, I hope you know that by now” She smiles up at you softly before leaning up to steal a soft kiss from you.

—---

In the weeks after the scan that showed your girlfriend's ACL had been torn, a lot happened. Viv had her surgery, and spent countless days just crying on the couch or just straight up feeling numb. You’d come home and find her where you’d left her that morning, the girl a shell of the person she once was.

But regardless, you stuck by her side. You helped her with anything she needed help with and even took a couple vacation days to look after her. It was just what felt right.

And suddenly after all those months of you and Viv training together, everything seemed to look up again.

Viv started to become herself again, smiling and laughing at your stupid jokes, even agreeing to some outings with the team. Your Viv was back.

Tears of joy flooded down your face when she ran for the first time in months, and when Viv was back to training with the team you couldn’t help but feel the most pride you’d ever felt.

All those late night training sessions and all the tears shed had led up to this moment, the sign going up for nr 11 to be subbed on to the pitch again after her horrific injury. 

The applause coming from the Chelsea and Arsenal players alike, had a single tear slipping down your girl’s face. Despite the fierce rivalry between the two London clubs, both sets of fans gave standing ovations for the Dutch player.

The game ends with Viv scoring once, retaining her place as the greatest scorer of the WSL, and as soon as the whistle signaling the end of the game Viv runs straight into your arms.

“Thank you for being by my side baby, I couldn’t have done this without you. I- I love you so much liefje, and I guess what I’m trying to say is…will you marry me?” The Dutch woman drops down to one knee, pulling out a box with the most gorgeous ring in it. 

Being careful as you can be, you quickly throw yourself in her arms whispering yes over and over.

No matter what, you wouldn’t leave her side. ‘Til death do you apart, ‘no’ you think, not even death would be able to separate you from your love. 

[literatecowboy]

Dr. Feelgood

1. On Punishment

Read Part 2 Here Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley. Warnings: Gunshot wounds, medical terminology and procedures, finger up the butt, new/unsure writer

-----

“Hey man, I don’t want to beat around the bush. I glanced at your x-rays earlier and I’m impressed by how far you managed to get that bottle up your ass. Next time I’d advise opting for something with a flared base though, alright?” you said, pulling up a swiveling stool to your patient’s bedside. He stared at you, mouth agape, his cheeks flushed. 

“Blockages are pretty serious and this thing isn’t going to come out on his own, so I’ll be taking you into surgery shortly, my team is getting a theater prepped and then the anesthesiologist will come back and we’ll get this show on the road. Will your daughter be staying here to wait during your surgery?” you asked, swiveling to look at the much younger woman sitting at the man’s bedside, holding his hand. The man in the hospital bed went fire-engine red. 

“She’s my wife!”

–

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was just trying to be concise. And mistaking the wife for his daughter is an honest mistake, she looked half that guy’s age!”

“Well then allow me to be concise - you’re lucky you still have a job. That “guy” is a very important man on this installation and speaking to him in such a disrespectful manner will not go unpunished, doctor.” Klein, one of the hospital administrators, said. The exhaustion and frustration were evident in his voice but he still stared you down with focused eyes. 

“He already has a new doctor and you’ve already taken me off of his case. I won’t have to see him again. Isn’t that enough? Are you gonna make me clean the medication fridges again?” you asked with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. You could feel a headache coming on. 

“You’re being transferred to–”

“What?! Klein, you know that’s a sweeping overreaction. Come on, I’ll even do a professional development training course or something.” 

“As I was saying, you’re being transferred to an installation in the United Kingdom. There’s a task force there that just had their doctor quit and–”

“Fucking England? What the fuck, Klein, you’re shipping me off to a different continent just because some asshole got offended?”

“You’ll temporarily fill in as their doctor until a permanent replacement is found. If, by the time that is done, you have found empathy and learned to hold your tongue, you will be welcomed back. If you have not you will be dishonorably discharged.” Klein finished. You sat frozen for a moment. 

“Who’s fucking idea was this?”

“The base commander you insulted thought it up. He believed it to be an excellent way to give you a taste of your own medicine.” Klein said. 

“Oh yeah, what? Think I can’t slap bandaids on soldiers?” you asked with a scoff, shaking your head and throwing back your seat as you stood up. 

“I wouldn’t be no nonchalant about this, doctor. Task Force 141 has had two doctors quit on them in the past year. From my understanding an intelligence agent put out a desperate call for a replacement more than two weeks ago and nobody has answered the call.”

“I’m not so easily discouraged, Klein, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back here soon enough anyway and it’ll be like I was never gone.”

–

Over the next handful of days, a military plane carried you across the pond with your belongings and delivered you into the jaws of Task Force 141’s home base. As the plane’s ramp lowered to reveal melancholy gray skies you felt mildly dejected that England hadn’t greeted you with the warm, sunny weather you’d been accustomed to in California. 

“Oh, Doc’s a lass!” a Scottish-tinged voice startled you out of your sudden fascination with meteorology and you glanced down, taking your first step down the ramp. 

“And you…aren’t English. But you are I take it.” You smiled hesitantly, scanning the faces of the two men in front of you. 

“And an American! Got any more surprises for us? It’s like bloody Christmas on this airstrip!” the one with the mohawk said with a grin. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“So you knew I was coming but don’t know anything about me? Some special forces you are.” you teased. 

“Price didn’t tell us a new doctor was coming until last night and wouldn’t let us snoop. Only said you go by Feelgood on the field.” the one in the hat said. 

“That’s me. Who’re you guys?” you asked, stepping the rest of the way off the plane and looking around at your surroundings. 

“I’m Soap, that’s Gaz. Price is our captain but he’s up to his neck in papers inside, you’ll meet him later. There’s also Ghost, but he’s out right now on a solo mission. Should be back tonight.”

“What does someone do to get that kind of emo kid calling?” you asked with a snort. Soap and Gaz glanced at each other. 

“Just…you’ll know him when you see him,” Gaz interjected. “Come on, we’ve been instructed to show you to your workspace and quarters.” The two lead you inside and through a maze of twisting and intersecting corridors, pointing out landmarks as they went. 

“Mess is back there, and so is the main gym. Laundry is to your right and take that door to head outside to the parade deck and practice range.” Gaz had explained with Soap jutting in to joke about the quality of military food. You had quipped about the blandness of English food which had made him laugh and Gaz roll his eyes. Eventually, you’d been led to your workstation - the 141’s small medical bay. 

“This is…it?” you’d asked warily. It was dusty and not a piece of equipment in the room had been turned on recently. The boxes of medical gloves sat unopened but medical supplies and wrappers littered the room. There were a few spots of blood on the floor beneath a gurney. 

“We’ve been mostly fixing ourselves up since the last doc quit,” Gaz admitted. 

“And not using gloves. Do you know how easy it is to get an infection if you don’t know what you’re doing?” you growled, gingerly picking up a used needle and disposing of it in the sharps bin.

“We’re still alive, lass. That’s what matters.” Soap said with a grin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Right, I can see why coming here was a punishment now,” you muttered under your breath so neither of them could hear. 

“Can we show you to your room now? We want to go out later and we need time to get ready.” Soap asked, cocking his head. 

“I can take it from here.” a voice called out from the frosted glass doorway, making you turn. 

“You must be Captain Price, and that must make you the one allowing these men to doctor themselves with minimal knowledge. Don’t worry, we’ll fix that,” you said, taking in the bucket hat and mutton chops with a blink. He looked slightly taken aback and smiled. 

“Feelgood, isn’t it? Don’t forget why you’re here. Laswell filled me in.” he said.

“What? Why are you here?” Gaz asked, turning to look at you quizzically. You sighed, slumping your shoulders. 

“I’m on punishment,” you muttered lowly, making Soap guffaw. 

“Aw, lass, we’re your punishment? I shoulda been mean,” he said with a laugh. 

Before you could retort all three of their comms crackled to life. 

“Hope that doctor made it in, Price. I’m coming into base and he better be ready. Been shot.” A gruff, heavily accented voice echoed across the room. Autopilot took over your body instantly. 

“You two-” You thrust two fingers out at Soap and Gaz. “Take that gurney from against the wall and meet him outside. Lay him down, put pressure on the wound, and bring him in quickly.”

“And you-” you thrust a finger at Price. “Get me supplies. Get IVs ready to go. Be prepared to find me things while I work.” you barked. 

Immediately you ran for the sink, tossing your jacket aside and hurriedly scrubbing up and down your arms and hands before drying yourself and gloving up. You threw on a gown, a mask, and a cap and gloved up again. As you turned around the doors burst open and Soap and Gaz came in pushing a gurney with a massive man covered in tactical gear and a skull balaclava draped over the top.

“Where is it? Get that gear off.” you barked, angling a light down from the ceiling and angling it towards your patient. 

“Stomach,” he grunted, grabbing his vest and dragging it away. He was panting and blood dripped onto the floor as the vest fell off. 

“Scissors.” you barked. It took a moment for Price to pass them to you and you shot him an exasperated look when you saw his bare hand. 

“All of you, glove the fuck up! Gowns on, masks on!” you shouted, tossing the scissors to the side and grabbing a fresh pair. You snipped carefully across where the blood was concentrated and pulled the fabric to the side. 

“Anterior abdomen entry, near the flank.” You pressed gauze to the wound and waved your hand at Soap. 

“Turn him over slightly. Gently!” you warned. On the count of three, you worked together with the Scot to gently lift Ghost from the side to examine his back. 

You exhaled when you found an exit wound and pressed more gauze to it, gently helping Soap lay the big man back down.

“Clean through but you’re not out of the woods yet.” you barked. Through the balaclava you could see that Ghost’s eyes were glassy - he was struggling to focus.

“Stay with me, big guy. Gaz, hold pressure on that entrance wound.” you barked. 

“Price, help me with these pants and boots,” you ordered. So far the three had been excellent at following your orders, but at this, the captain faltered. 

“What for, doc-”

“Do as I say!” you barked, turning to insert a needle into Ghost’s vein and get the IV drip going. Price fumbled with Ghost’s boots as Soap undid his lieutenant's pants sheepishly, dragging them down. You tossed a blanket over Ghost’s legs and gritted your teeth.

“This is your only warning to turn around. You won’t want to see what I’m doing.” you snapped, lubing your finger and slipping your hand beneath the blanket and into Ghost’s boxers. 

“Sorry man,” you mumbled quietly. Price and Gaz had managed to turn around in time but as Soap realized what you were doing, a look of horror overtook his features. 

As gently as you could manage, you slid a finger into Ghost’s ass. 

–

Hours later you sat alone on a bench in your medical bay chugging coffee. 

Things had gone well as they could have given the circumstances. After confirming no intestinal damage had been done by the bullet and stabilizing Ghost, you set him up in one of the hospital beds in your ward and treated the rest of his comparatively minor injuries. As he had lay, unconscious while being rehydrated and given a blood transfusion, you had begun cleaning what had immediately been established as your domain. 

Soap had bailed as soon as Ghost was stable, muttering about needing a drink after what he’d seen. Gaz had followed after sitting by his lieutenant for some time. Price was the last to leave but he still came in and out sporadically to bring you coffee and help with the cleanup. A gentle rapping on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You glanced up.

“Hungry?” Price asked. There was a tray in his hands, and two plates sat atop it. 

“God, yes, please. I haven’t eaten since before I got here,” you admitted, offering Price a smile as he sat beside you. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as good as the ones from where you’re from, but I got burritos from the mess.” he offered, unveiling the plates. You both ate in silence, staring off into space, punctuated only by the beeping of Ghost’s heart monitor.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you all,” you said after a moment, wiping refried beans from your cheek with your sleeve.

“No, please, you were right to order us around. I don’t think I’ve ever watched…that…before. What you did was incredible.” Price admitted. 

“It wouldn’t have happened without your support. I’ll make nurses of the lot of you. That is if I don’t get killed when big guy remembers my finger in his ass.” you muttered. Price choked on his food. 

“Is that what the pants thing was about?” he asked hesitantly after a minute.

“It’s essentially a check for intestinal damage. If you ever get shot, stabbed, or blown up you’ll get the same treatment,” you said matter-of-factly. Price blinked. 

“Remind me not to in that case,” he said with a chuckle. More silence passed. 

“How’d you manage to run off so many doctors?” you asked after a moment. Price grunted. 

“Not me, love. I guess you’ll find out when he wakes up.” he nodded toward Ghost. You sucked in a deep breath. 

“You’re suggesting two extremes. One possibility is that your task force has a severe case of the man flu and needs to be babied to an extreme. The second possibility is that the second his eyes come open he’ll be off the bed and he’ll refuse treatment until he gets shot again.” you said. 

“That’s about it, especially with him,” Price grunted, nodding at Ghost again. You sighed. 

“I’ve restrained men before and I’ll do it again, captain. I’m not afraid,” you said boldly, polishing off your burrito and watching Ghost’s chest as it rose and fell. 

“You left the balaclava on - that’s good. There’s hope for your survival yet, love.” Price said. He patted your knee good-naturedly and rose, picking up the tray to take back.

“I’ll send one of the boys in later tonight to give you a break so you can sleep,” he said, headed for the door. You nodded quietly and got up to continue cleaning and reorganizing your med bay, determined to make it home.

“Oh, and one more thing - welcome to England.” Price said as the door shut behind him.

[indybob]

As I begin finalizing my current long fic, Maybe We Were Always Meant To Be I have come to the realization that I have 20 one-shot/significantly shorter story ideas for Hangster. I know which one I’ll write first, but after that I have no idea. I’m going to list the top 10 I’m most excited to write below with a brief synopsis and you can vote in the poll for which one you’d like to read the most!

(I may or may not follow this, but it’ll give me an idea of what people would like to read and a starting point😄)

Story Ideas:

The Ball’s in Your Court: A few years pre-canon, Bradley and Jake hook up every year at the Navy Ball. They spend the night making each other jealous with other people, even though they know they’re going to fall into bed together when it’s all said and done.

Chasin’ That Desire: Set immediately post-mission, Bradley undergoes a minor surgery for a dislocated shoulder from ejecting. He and Jake patch things up, and Jake helps him through his rehab as their feelings for each other grow stronger.

Forever’s in Your Eyes: After an outdoor barbecue party in their backyard, Jake and Bradley lay in their hammock sipping the left over wine. Bradley realizes he can’t wait another second before asking this man to be his forever.

Bubbles and Bubbly: a smutty story that is essentially just Bradley throwing Jake a surprise anniversary dinner and a night of romance at home.

Hey Stranger, This is Your Stop: After being stood up on a date, Finance Worker!Bradley and Business Executive!Jake meet when Bradley falls asleep on his shoulder while on the subway in NYC. They hit it off and Jake asks Bradley out on a date. (Part of a series of AUs set in New York City).

Through a New Lens: Photographer!Bradley meets Model!Jake at an underwear shoot for a fashion brand. Jake inquires about a private photo shoot with Bradley one-on-one once the underwear shoot is over. Potentially smutty, I’m not sure yet.

It’s a Date: Author!Bradley meets Journalist!Jake at a coffee shop while dodging a stalker. Jake buys Bradley a latte, and they hit it off. (Part of a series of AUs set in New York City).

Sparks Fly: Based on “Sparks Fly” by Taylor Swift, Bradley has been trying to figure out how to tell Jake how he’s been feeling for a long time. Bradley decides the best way he knows how to be sincere is through music, so he plays a song dedicated to Jake one night at the Hard Deck.

No title for this one yet, but a sickfic where Jake gets sick for the first time in years and refuses to accept help. Thankfully Bradley is too stubborn to let Jake handle it all alone.

Everything Gets Hotter (When the Sun Goes Down): A fic about Jake and Bradley’s honeymoon, featuring some of their activities during the day, and their time in the bedroom at night.