#what a way to start off the week of July 4th

[lyjen]

Evan "Buck" Buckley Masterlist

GIF by @emziess

Series:

• Duty Calls | Summary: A sergeant and Buck keep on running in to each other but their conversation always gets cut off.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

• North West Corner | Summary: When the 118 gets to a factory fire, Buck and (Y/n) get stuck in side of the building. Revealing quite a surprise.

Part 1 | Part 2

• Ask For Help | Summary: As (y/n) and her fiancé get hit by a drunk driver, she loses the love of her life. Her family and best friend are trying to help her whenever and where they possibly can. Until she shuts them out.

Part 1 | Part 2

• I Called | Summary: When (Y/n) goes out to do a business check on a Self Storage building, she ends up getting attacked. Due to a technical difficulty the radio of (Y/n) remains on, so everyone including her boyfriend and brother can hear what is happening.

Part 1 | Part 2

• Just a minute | Summary: Buck and (Y/n) are due to get married, but when an accident happens on scene during a thunderstorm, the lives of the two are completely flipped upside down.

Part 1 | Part 2

• In The Right Place | Summary: When a new recruit joins the 118, she immediately clashes with Buck. As (Y/n) gets partnered up with Buck during a rescue mission in an unstable, partly collapsed building, their teamwork becomes the only thing standing between survival and disaster.

Part 1 | Part 2

• Last shift | Summary: It’s (Y/n)’s last shift before maternity leave when she’s sent to pick up supplies at a medical store, only to be caught in a robbery. Buck, growing frantic after not hearing from her, is called to the scene with the 118 team, unaware she’s among the injured.

Part 1 | Part 2

One shots:

• Reckless | Summary: As their argument gets out of hand (Y/n) needs her space. Buck tries to apologise. But (Y/n) won’t listen.

• Deathwish | Summary: When Buck walks (Y/n) home to her apartment, they bump into something that turns (Y/n)’s cop radar on. They decide to check it out. But it goes horribly wrong when she makes a mistake.

• When you’re home | Summary: She always texts or calls him when she’s home safe. But when she doesn’t, Buck gets worried. Until he goes on a call and meets her there. But not in the way Buck hoped to see her.

• Permanent Basis | Summary: When a firefighter transfers from the 226 to firehouse 118, Buck immediately doesn’t like the guy. He shares his opinion with his friends, who don’t agree. But when Buck catches him doing something, he loses it.

• Mistake | Summary: (Y/n) has been feeling not too well, she’s 18 weeks pregnant but still suffers from nausea. When they’re on shift they somehow get into a hostage situation and they use (y/n)’s nausea as a distraction.

• Lifeline | Summary: Everything in (Y/n)’s life seems to be great, until her abusive ex-boyfriend turns up at her home and threatens to hurt Evan. To protect her closest friend, she starts to distance herself from him. Buck notices (y/n) is distancing herself from him, and confronts her. But when the bomb of her ex-boyfriend bursts, she crawls back to Buck.

• Keep things casual | Summary: After a night out with the team, (y/n) and Evan end up hooking up. But when after a year, she shows up to Chris’ birthday party with a baby, it raises questions for Buck.

• Under Attack | Summary: Dropped out of high school, joining the army to follow her brother’s footsteps. When the group of soldiers gets attacked while they are flying in the helicopter, (y/n) is the one to try and get them out of the situation. But when they’re celebrating the 4th of july, it brings her right back to that day on the field.

• Maybe | Summary: Buck and (Y/n) end up closer than ever on a call. But when (Y/n) gets hurt and Evan’s girlfriend notices the slightest sign of worry for his colleague, she confronts him.

• Drowning | Summary: Buck’s wife is an Elementary school teacher, but when a shooter enters the school and starts shooting at teachers, (Y/n) is the first person to help. Evan gets worried as his wife doesn’t pick up her phone, but as soon as the shooting reaches the news Evan is desperate to find out where she is.

• Bad Luck, Good Luck | Summary: Buck and (Y/n) are neighbors, nothing more, nothing less. At least that’s what Evan thinks they are, (Y/n) sees him more than that. When (y/n) discovers that Evan has a girlfriend, she knows she can’t handle seeing him with another girl and decides to move. But what if Evan finds her diary?

• Voices In My Head | Summary: When Buck brings out two female victims, when they start hitting on him, he reveals his girlfriend. They start to talk about her, and to insult her. When (Y/n) overhears those girls and lets the words get to her, she starts to distance herself from her boyfriend and keeps a secret. But what happens to their relationship when Evan discovers her secret and confronts her? | Evan Buckley x Plus Size Reader

• Freeway 710 | Summary: When (Y/n) drives home from her work, she meets the 710 freeway wrong-way driver. The 118, including her fiancé Buck gets dispatched to the scene. When the 118 finds the car on the scene, (Y/n) is barely conscious and Buck tries to keep himself together.

• No Way Out | Summary: When the 118 responds to a call with the mission to pull out the last victim, Buck splits up from the team to sweep the last floor. The victim turns out to be the sniper, with the goal to shoot firefighters. (Y/n) is a stubborn cop who goes against orders from captain Nash and still tries to save Buck from the shooter.

• Trust me | Summary: When Buck and (Y/n) go to Bobby to tell him the news that (Y/n) is pregnant, they get interrupted by the sound of the alarm. Everything seems to run smoothly on the call, until the bridge collapses with (Y/n), Eddie and a victim in the back of the ambulance. Putting (Y/n)’s pregnancy at risk.

• Stay, stay, stay | Summary: When Buck gets assigned to get up the ladder and put a fire out during a rain and thunderstorm, he gets struck by lightning. He’s walking around in a coma dream and has to find his way out of it to get back to his fiancée (Y/n).

• Lose Control | Summary: (Y/n) goes unusually quiet when one morning she glances at the phone of her boyfriend and finds his ex texting him. When Buck chooses to confront her with the fact why she’s avoiding him, an argument follows. The 118 gets dispatched to a cruise ship disaster.  Can the two of them still rely on each other when things go south on call?

[xplrwithme]

4th of July

It was the 4th of July and you were celebrating on the lake with your friends. Your best friends husband had a boat back home in Maine and you rented a lake house for the week. It was mid day and you were a little drunk already. You all pulled up to the dock to refill on gas when a boat full of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen pulled up as well.

Your jaw drops and you hit your best friend Lauren on the arm.

“Laur, look at the tattoos on that one. I have nothing appropriate to say.” You giggled

Lauren just laughed and looked at her husband who had an evil grin on his face.

“Bet you won’t go hit on him.” Eric states with a grin.

All your friends on the boat groaned, knowing sober you would never turn down a bet, let alone while drunk.

You grin standing up.

“Oh you’re so on.”

You step off the boat, adjusting your bikini top and making your way over to the other boat. As you approach one of the blonde guys looks up and smiles at you.

“Hey there. You lost?” He grins at you

You laugh

“No, actually I think I’m right where I need to be.”

“Is that so?” His reply catches his friends attention and suddenly 2 other pairs of eyes are on you.

“Had a question for your friend over there.”

The blonde laughs, “Who, Auston?”

“The hot tattooed one.” They all laugh at that

“Honey, both my friends here have tattoos. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

You sigh rolling your eyes and point at the tall, muscular, tattooed man with a mustache.

They all let out a laugh while he points at himself mouthing, “me?”

You can hear your friends behind you laughing their asses off.

“Yes, you. I have a question for you.”

Auston grins and steps off their boat and onto the dock in front of you.

“Woah.” You mutter, looking up at the tall, tattooed man.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” He asks laughing.

“Jesus what did your parents feed you? You’re like.. built.”

All his friends start laughing at this and you’re too drunk to be embarrassed.

“That was your question?” He smirks at you.

“Oh! No! I was wondering if you could feel my top for me and tell me what kind of material it is.” You grin at him, waiting for him to take the bait.

He raises an eyebrow at you and reaches out, fingers grazing the material of your top.

“Uh not sure, nylon maybe?” He looks confused for a second, lowering his hand.

You look down at the top confused.

“Huh, I could have sworn it was made out of girlfriend material. Hi, I’m Y/N.” You put your hand out to shake his.

He and his friends start to laugh loudly while you hear your friends groaning behind you.

Eric yells out “cmon, Y/N seriously?!”

“Girl, come back while you have what’s left of your dignity, please.” Your best friend shouts with her hands on her hips.

You turn around throwing your hands in the air dramatically,

“Hey, I’ve got this!”

You turn back to the tattooed stranger you now know as Auston, while he’s chuckling at you.

He shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. My names Auston. My blonde friend over here is William and my other friend is Mitch, that’s his wife Stephanie next to him.”

You step aside and wave at his friends on the boat before a moment of realization hits you.

“Wait.. Auston, Mitch, William.. not the famous trio from the Toronto Maple Leafs, right?”

They all start laughing at you as a look of horror crosses your face.

You slowly covered your face and held your hands up as you feel your face blushing.

“I am so, so sorry for wasting your time. Have a good day, yall.”

They all start to laugh, Mitch and William buckling over.

Auston however, slightly chuckles and reaches for your hand as you turn away. You look up at him confused.

“Hey now, you can’t walk away after an introduction like that. Are you a hockey fan?”

You feel like you’re on fire. You know you’re blushing and standing here with THE Auston Matthews holding your hand is more than you can handle at the moment.

Before you can even stop yourself you laugh-

“Yeah, not a leafs fan though.”

You hear Lauren groan from behind you.

“Y/N don’t start!”

Auston lets out a loud laugh.

“Well, now I need to know what team you root for.”

“I uh I should go now.”

You start to turn but Auston doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Cmon, tell me.”

You sigh and look back at your friends. They’re all grinning at the mess you’ve made and you’re suddenly 80% less confident.

“The Bruins.”

The smirk on Auston’s face drops but he still doesn’t let go of your hand. You hear Mitch and William groan while Stephanie lets out a loud laugh.

“A rivalry love story, how cute!” Stephanie says with a grin.

“I um I should really go now.”

You cannot believe the mess you’ve gotten yourself into at this point. You silently swear to never drink again at this point.

Auston grins,

“Oh come on, where’d that confident girl go?”

“Oh buddy she’s long gone.” You say still feeling the blush on your cheeks.

“Let’s find her again. Come on, we were just heading over to the island out that way. Meet us there with your friends. Let’s see how this plays out.” He gives your hand that he’s still holding a squeeze.

Eric speaks up,

“She’s in. We’ll meet you there!”

You spin around looking betrayed.

“Eric! I’ve made a fool of myself enough for one day!”

Everyone laughs as Auston walks you back over to your friends boat, giving you a hand as you step down.

“See you there, Boston.” He says with a wink and heads back over to Mitch, William, and Stephanie who are all grinning wildly.

Lauren hands you another beer.

“Here, you’re gonna need this.”

You sigh and crack open the can. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

[erwinsvow]

hiii if you don’t want to pls do not take this as being pushy BUT….. i would just like you to know I’d go feral in the best of ways if you elaborated on your thoughts about jack and robby sharing 4th year med student reader… im really irregular about it like i might actually lose my mind

im barking at you... thank you for giving me the platform i needed. promise this WILL be written one day.. i think three weeks after binging the show my frontal lobe developed and i have a crush on robby now

someone else sent a yummy ask about being robby's gf who gets shared with jack, so i'll answer that soon but this is the reverse, since jack and 4th year reader in eavesdropping are together. this can be a lil spin off universe, let's say it's not as sweet and clear of a relationship just yet. throuple time!!!!!!

where to begin...!!! jack is a little grumpy, but mostly good-humored and he has a real knack for teaching, inspires confidence and makes people believe in themselves. he's just good at it, which is why him and fourth year reader are so good together! he helps her grow and learn things and she's a very sweet ball of sunshine which is exactly what a grumpy old man needs. and this is ME, so obviously, four year reader fixes a lot of the things jack feels sad about. helps him get through tough losses, reassures him that he's done everything he can, because even the teacher needs to hear it sometimes. it's not an easy profession and you're not even a full fledged doctor yet, so the responsibility isn't on you yet, even though it will be soon.

well fourth year reader does a few weeks of night shift with jack. they start seeing each other. jack's mood is a lot different for the month after that, even though fourth year reader eventually goes to another hospital for an audition. and then jack's mood goes down again. and robby is a good friend, so he notices. teases jack about it. "you like her, huh?" robby, at this point, has no idea. thinks jack is sweet on a twenty something medical student which just makes him laugh—but then he does remember that it's you. you worked with robby before you worked with jack.

you find the optimism in every depressing situation. you take his moments of silent reflection extremely seriously. you used to thank robby for every procedure he let you do, thanked him for trusting you and teaching you. and maybe you had a little crush on him too before you went over to night shift. what's so wrong with that—the hospital is filled with handsome attendings, and you've got two of them doting on you during your audition. and it's harmless, you think, since you don't think either of them can go anywhere, that they'll actually do something about it. and that's just kind of your personality, too sweet, too nice, too sunshiney. if old guys love it, then that's just the way it rolls.

it's not so much anything as it is the way you are. looking up at your attendings like they hung the moon because they tell you good job, great work, that you're doing something perfect, that you're making an excellent provider. maybe you get a high satisfaction rating or something one day after robby got chewed out about it and he sees you making an effort, listening to him, even more than you already did. and for jack, well i summed it up in a nice 10k but he wants to make you more confident, wants you to believe in yourself so when you come here in july for residency as an intern, you're going to be totally prepared.

so yes, robby is a little peeved that jack got you first. he didn't think abbot would actually do it. you're not the first medical student to have a crush on the attendings, nor will you be the last. he just thought for the sake of propriety, for the sake of hr, that you were off-limits for both of them. robby's a little grumpy about it—and you're on day shift with him for the next month and you hate when people are mad at you, especially your attending who is also jack's best friend who is also a man you still harbor a tiny little crush on, someone you want to impress everyday. so you talk to jack and he promises to figure out what's going on, and jack and robby have a beer, and then maybe a few too many beers, and robby goes i met her first, and jack knows about your thing with praise and approval and he knows you won't rest until you have robby's back. (he's also not stupid, he knows how you look at robby.) he thinks he has a solution to make everyone happy. so after a really bad day when the three of you get together and have dinner and go through a couple bottles of wine it is no surprise that you little crush on robby comes up.

and you don't think it's that big of a deal—half the hospital has a crush on the two men staring at you right now. you tell him that he always tells you good job and it just started getting to you, both of them started getting to you. and then robby says something about "well if i had known you were going to decide so early i would have argued my case harder." and then you're confused because as silly as your crushes seemed, you hadn't put two and two together that they both like you too. and then jack says "maybe we can figure something out, right sweetheart?" and maybe it's the wine and the fact that you have two grumpy old men that are somehow only sweet on you staring at you like you're not going to be able to walk tomorrow, but i think that might get to me. would you agree?

anyways, it's kinda funny because in eavesdropping (this is not in that universe again its just a spin off lil thing) she was a virgin and now it's like a couple months later and you're getting spit roasted by robby and jack. at first jack just watches—watches robby eat you out until you're shaking all over, watches you struggle to fit his best friend inside of you, but he's not really just a sit back and not partake in the fun kind of a guy, so he shows robby that thing he does with his fingers that makes you cum so hard you black out. then robby tries it.

when they have a bad day, it's like stress relief. robby's favorite thing to do at the end of a really terrible shift is to take out his frustration on you while jack keeps track of your orgasms. jack prefers to be ridden, so that's what you do, while robby watches. when you have a bad day it's the best though, you get spoiled and pampered and praised like there is no tomorrow, until you can't even think about anything else but how good and perfect you are.

it's honestly kind of hilarious at work. depending on if you're on day or night, you get stolen kisses and told good job for every single thing that you do. everyone just thinks that you're the favorite, the teacher's pet. and you totally would be, with how much you learn from those two just being around them. pillow talk consists of discussions about scientific journals and army medic procedures that work in a pinch in the trauma bay and the first time robby and jack saw this or that and what they did to save the patient. you guess you are a teacher's pet—easy enough when your teachers hover over you, one asking the questions and the other depriving you of your orgasm until you get it right.

i think one day dana catches robby kissing you during the day shift in the ambulance bay while she's smoking, and then as you guys are leaving, she catches jack kissing you (in front of robby) as you two head home. none of you would have seen her so no one knows what she knows, but occasionally if you come in sore and tired, lying through your teeth saying it's because you went too hard in pilates, she snorts and says "yeah, i bet." <3

[paperclips37]

I am already enjoying my week off from work.

So enjoy another little snippet of Mel being a sexy photo expert.

-----

‘Okay I’ve been helping Samira take photos.’ She blurted out. Wincing at how loud she was. ‘Sexy photos.’

Frank swallowed heavily still quiet. His knuckles turning white against the glass.

(A part of Mel’s brain began panicking that Frank was one of the many who assumed that she was Sexless.)

(Anyone but him please.)

‘Oh.’

‘Abbot was dragging his feet.’ Frank huffed a laugh at that. Mel ignored the implication and ploughed on. ‘So I suggested Samira make a move.’

‘A photo.’

‘Started small obviously just casual but excellent shots. Then... progressing as time moved on.’

‘To....’

‘More suggestive ones.’

Samira was going to murder her.

Frank swallowed again. Her phone lying between them felt like a beacon, or a bomb. Did Frank like Samira? Mel had never seen anything of the sort between them. Then again Mel wasn’t exactly the most clued in to sexual attraction at the best of times. All her previous partners had had to be explicit with her. I want to have sex with you blunt. Which was good. Why couldn’t people say what they wanted? The games and implications were a minefield.

Another reason why Mel didn’t date much.

(Most people were too messy and not patient enough for her.)

‘Suggestive. Suggestions.’

‘Yeah. She asks for ideas or to see if hers are any good.’

‘She sends you the photos?’ Frank blinked rapidly at her. This was new. Frank was a known non blinker. Mel had in fact tried to track his blink rates during some conversations.

(He’d found it hilarious when she’d show him her count.)

‘Peer review.’ It had become a joke between her and Samira. Mel was very good at peer review after all.

(He had this look on his face. Mel cannot figure it out.)

‘Seriously?’ His voice sounds weird. Not bad. Deeper than usual? A thrum of heat flicked at Mel and it has nothing to do with the heat in the August air.

‘A second set of eyes is always helpful for these things.’

‘Fuck.’

‘What?’ Frank was barely speaking. Silted sentences and one words responses and Mel is getting increasingly confused. And worried.

This isn’t how they communicate. Frank was one of the few who had learned innately how to communicate best with her.

(He was the first.)

Never speaking down to her or getting irritated with her overly literal way of thinking. Even enjoying her view of the world. Somehow he’d even adapted his off beat humour to sync with her. Walking through his (very weird) jokes until she got it like it had been his style all along.

(It definitely wasn’t.)

Mel needed clear words and no implications. Honesty always worked for her.

When she’d returned to The Pitt for her next shift and found him gone it had hit twice as hard as the day before. Asking Robby gently when he was coming back. Getting nothing but an angry grunt which had Mel panicking she’d done something wrong.

Abbot had been the one to take her aside and explain that Langdon was taking a sabbatical due to personal issues. His eyes gentle and worried.

All of Santos’s questions had hit home for Mel.

Oh.

(Her heart broke for him.)

That July 4th when he’d walked through the door as though marching towards his execution. More tired than she’d remembered but clearer.

(There had been a moment she’d panicked that the only reason he’d understood her was the benzo’s)

But he’d spied her and grinned so broadly his face looked like it was about to split open.

‘You’re here!’ Her words from her first day echoing back at her from him.

(It had felt like home.)

Frank coughed again. Taking a sip of his coke. Clearly trying to work out what to say.

‘Do... do you-’ For the first time in a long time it seems that Frank is unable to keep eye contact with her.

(It feels cold.)

‘What?’

‘Reciprocate?’

‘Not really. It’s more if I have an old one that fits what I’m suggesting I show her that. We’re not exchanging photos per say. We’re just friends. I’m offering her advise. Nothing more.’ Frank face did that thing it did when he was trying to work out a diagnosis. Eyes narrowing but never quite closing. His mouth slightly open and Mel didn’t examine how nice his lips look. Nope. She wasn’t used to that face been aimed directly at her. Like she was a puzzle he was trying to work out.

‘Oh. Wait.... an old one that fits?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’ve sent people...’

‘Explicit and spicy photos? Yeah. Who hasn’t? I’ve never shown my face so that’s safe.’ Mel curled up on her seat, sipping at her rapidly warming drink. Wrinkling her nose at the lukewarm liquid. Frank continued to sit there completely flabbergasted. She didn’t get his reaction. It was fairly common in this day and age.

‘Is it really that shocking to you?’ Mel allows herself to sound peeved with him. For the first time she was feeling small around him. It wasn’t a good feeling. ‘I am an adult Frank.’

‘What? I know that! Believe me I am fully aware of that.’ That flame burns just a little brighter inside her. She can feel her shorts sticking to her a little more.

Franks face is a mixture of things that Mel again can’t quite figure out. Typically when someone was unreadable Mel would be so nervous she’d done something... Well inherently Mel. That uniqueness that it seemed most people couldn’t handle. Frank never had that issue with her. He always took the time to talk things out with her. But there’s too much in his face, his body language and he isn’t explaining.

‘Then why are you so surprised? It’s like Santos assuming I was a sexless virgin all over again.’ Mel pouts and stares out at the sky. Hunching over herself. Frank spluttered, nearly knocking his coke over.

‘She what??? Is she fucking blind?’ He’s telling the truth. Mel knows. Since he came back on July 4th she’s gotten to know him as well as she’s known anyone. Like he can’t really get moving in the morning until he’s downed a red bull. He prefers black tea to coffee. He is absolutely obsessed with reddit stories that are clearly fake. It’s such entertaining writing Mel! The fact that he always texts his kids at the start and end of the day so they bookend whatever he is doing. He’s a non fiction reader, but adores fiction podcasts. On learning that the King sisters know ASL-

(When Becca was younger and overwhelmed she’d preferred sign language. On a bad day she’ll revert back. Those were fewer and fewer as time went on.)

-Frank had immediately gone to get lessons.

Therapist recommended learning new skills. Also imagine the things I could sign behind Robby’s back!

He was even teaching Tanner and Taylor little things.

(Glitter was their favourite. Because it was Becca’s and Mel’s favourite sign.)

[billspaid]

By the fire

“I know you’re flirting with me Frank.” Mel says, looking out at the small fire in front of them.

A few of them were gathered at Samira’s for a small July 4th Party, which also marked a year since Langdon returned to work.

She inadvertently kne that she'd been a small helping hand in his recovery and during those first few rocky months, she was a shoulder to lean on. Since then though, they'd become friends, best friends even. The kind of relationship that Mel never saw coming but loves just the same. He was probably the most important person in her life aside from Becca, but admitting that to herself felt terrifying in a monumental way.

Anyway, they had become each other's anchors over the past year, sharing every victory and every sorrow, every parenting

highlight and every breakdown. It's why when Mel realised he was flirting with her, *really* realised, she didn't have it in her heart to call him out on it, or stop him.

She's not really sure how long it had been going on, probably a lot longer than she realised, but over the last few months, it was becoming more and more clear that he was trying to get under her skin. And he was succeeding.

It started like it so often did, with small gestures, little quips about her attempts at cooking or leaning over her shoulder to take a look at a chart, especially when he really could just stand next to her. Getting on Becca's good side and teasing Mel with a smirk that would make her pulse race.

But then it got more intense and Mel would find herself giving in, actively engaging in it despite knowing that it probably isn't for the best. She would innocuously run her hand through his hair whilst they'd sit on his couch, watching lilo and stitch reruns with his kids - Mel's idea - and she would revel in it when he'd eventually reduce down to putty in her hands. He'd goad her into telling him about her old boyfriends, until she'd say something particularly racy leaving them both flustered. She'd ask him if he'd been with anyone since Abby, despite them both knowing the answer is no. She just wanted to hear him say it .

But as much as their flirting became more of a regular thing, the shared domesticity of their lives grew too. It helped that Becca loved spending time with his kids, helped that Tanner was completely enamoured with Mel, that Frank had become an emergency contact for Becca after Mel got stuck at a particularly bad shift.

What sealed it for Mel, what really got her to step back and re-evaluate it their relationship was what happened a week ago, when they had fallen asleep on his couch. They were on night shift, still adjusting to the time difference when a daycare reported a gas leak. They stayed 3 extra hours and collapsed on the couch before they could get another word in.

She's not sure when they woke up, but she could feel Frank's hand gently rubbing up and down her arm, coaxing her. "Mel. Mel Honey, come on, let's get to bed." And she did. She walked into his room, not bothering to peel her scrubs off as she climbed into his bed, dropping her head against the pillow. She distantly heard him do the same and felt a warm, comforting weight ground her as his arm slipped around her waist. He was snoring within the minute.

Mel would've been too, if the realisation that she's in Frank's bed for the first time didn't hit her like a train. They hadn't done anything like this before - never had any excuse to. And the actual sleeping together part aside, she was more shocked at how willingly she just followed him. Like the bed was theirs to share.

She eventually fell asleep, too tired to think about what it meant and since then, she has been avoiding him slightly. Until tonight.

When she insisted he come to the party. A little celebration for him too. So the 10, 11 of them squeezed into Samira's tiny square shaped backyard, if it could even legally constitute at such and watched the fireworks go off. Whitiker, always a man of surprise, lit a small fire whilst Donnie and Mateo tried their hand at a disposable bbq.

It was later in the evening, half had filtered out and Mel had stayed, well, because Langdon had. The fire was dwindling slightly and the few that were left were trying to figure out how to light the few stick of dynamites, courtesy of Santos.

They were on the other side of the garden, and Mel had spoken so quietly, so casually, it's no surprise Frank looks up, frowning in confusion as he mumbles, "What?"

"I know you're flirting with me" She repeats, shifting her eyes to get a quick glance at him.

He makes an odd face, like he's just been caught doing something that he himself isn't sure is right or wrong. Mel smiles gently, curling her arms around her knees as she looks out onto the fire.

"And I know you know I do it back. Have been, probably longer than I've realised."

Frank doesn't reply to her but she understands that. So much of his recovery has been laced with self-doubt, the fear of saying or doing the wrong thing . It makes her uneasy sometimes but in this case she expects it.

"I just," she pauses, pushing her glasses up on her face. "I'm not sure it's a great idea exploring that, right now.” As many times as she's practised this in the mirror, saying it in real time makes her feel queasy.

Makes her feel even worse when Frank replies hoarsely, "Okay." He sounds so unsure when he says it, like he strictly disagrees with his reply.

Mel turns to look at him. "I didn't say ever, Frank, I just said right now." She adds with a smile in her voice. He looks up at her, brows furrowed gently like he's trying to gauge her.

She angles her body towards him before looking over her shoulder, making sure the others aren't listening in.

Mel takes a deep breath. "I think I'm quite selfish because you're always going to be someone that I want. Need, more like."

Frank stares at Mel, frozen completely as if the slightest movement might scare her off. She's not so sure it won't.

"And I know we're going to fall into each other. I know that, I believe that." She continues, swallowing hard. "But I don't want to rush into this. You've only been divorced 6 months, You've barely moved into your new place."

Frank purses his lips in a way that makes Mel believe he understands her.

"And I think we've got some growing to do. I want your sobriety to depend on you, not me, not your kids, not your job. And I need to figure out how to have the things I want in a way that doesn't entirely overwhelm me."

Frank lets out a shaky breath.

"So I think we should give it some time." Mel says, biting the inside of her lips. "Cause I want this, Frank. I want you. But it's gotta last. It's gotta be it. I-I can't imagine doing *this* with anyone else." She shudders, chest heaving slightly.

Frank nods carefully.

Mel finally catches his gaze, flashing him a weak smile that he mirrors gently. A sudden bang pulls them away from their moment and Mel looks over her shoulder at the others. When she turns back, Frank is looking at her incredulously.

"Mel?" He says, quietly. So quietly.

"Hm?"

"When will we know it's the right time?"

Mel's face splits into a soft smile. "I'm not sure. I think we'll just know. It'll feel right, like we're just falling into it." She glances at him. "Against my better judgement, it will probably be sooner than later."

[vxsellie]

SLT ꒰ update !! ꒱

it has been a tiring two weeks, huh? it’s been fourteen full days since SLT arc one officially concluded 💔💔

so many questions. like,, what are the characters doing? how are they healing post-arena? are they actually, finally together? are they accepting of their love for one another? mmm. let’s be honest, probably not.

BUT !! for once, i come bearing good news: you won’t be waiting much longer for arc two’s release 😽

FIRST: a short snippet of what’s to come !!

❛❛ When Ellie arrives in the Victor’s Village, she instantly senses something is off. She quickens her gait as she approaches her house, removing her bag and tossing it onto the porch without much care. It thuds against the wood at the same time she opens the front door.  She’s only halfway inside when you’re on her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling her into a tight hug. She’s instantly tense, unsure what the fuck is going on. She can feel your heart pounding against her chest, sped with something akin to fear.  Then you’re dipping your head and whispering into her ear, “We live together and we’re in love.” Then you’re pulling away and giving her a small smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, she thinks, but it’s not. All it does is put her on edge.  Ellie blinks, confused and beginning to panic. “How’s Cricket?” You ask while removing her coat from her shoulders. It’s a small act, yet gentle—one meant for a couple that’s been together for six months. You hang it up before crouching down in front of her and beginning to unlace her boots. That’s when she notices your hands are shaking. “She’s gotten better.” Ellie replies, her gaze never leaving you. How the fuck do you know who Cricket even is? “Her fever finally started coming down yesterday.” Ellie lifts her foot to allow you to pull off her boot and set it aside. You’ve just begun to unlace the second one when someone else enters the foyer. Thiago Clampitt’s gait is more professional than she’d ever seen it—stiff and sharp. When he lifts his head, there resides an expression she’d never seen him wear before. Pity, maybe.  “Right this way, you two.” He says curtly. ❜❜

oh ik u guys have questions 😼😼 like: who tf is thiago clampitt & what is he doing in ellie's house ? why is yn in her house ? why is yn scared for her life ? who tf is cricket & what is her role in all of this ? is this their first interaction since the arena ? etc etc etc feel free to ask questions & hypothesize in the comments !! but, unfortunately, i will not be able to answer any of them 😓

SECOND: the release date

JULY 2ND, 2025 !!!! i chose this date bc, firstly, i'm unable to stay away from this story for longer than a month and, second, it's two days before the 4th of july (symbolism & i are fuck buddies istg)

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo.     @ilovewomenfr.     @zzombiegirl.     @elliessweetheart.     @shawangel.     @defnoteleonor.     @fatbootymuncher.     @autisticintr0vert.  @ellieslittleslutt

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 series taglist @kirammanss.  @dsybouquet.   @serraphinm.   @smellovie.   @sakiigami.   @opt1mistic.   @spacecinnamonbuns.   @clouded-whispers.    @sappicarribean.   @corpsebridenightmare.     @jaliyah-s.    @pixiec4t.    @chappellroankisser.   @mxquelo.    @vahnilla.     @moshuka.    @cupidluvzz.    @elliewilliamssrealgf.   @monki-nat.    @tmbpyv.     @prwttiestbunnies.    @jinxtheplanet.    @sevslover   @iheartclairo66.    @rxreaqia.    @abby-anderson-wifey.    @imdeletingthisaccount1. @sillyloafff. @d1psht. @chappellroankisser. @aphrodyk3. @lovececillie

[noahwylie]

I wanna lay out everything about the robbycollins relationship because the timeline is confusing and they fascinate me

Explicit canon info:

Adamson died in September 2020.

The single shift takes place in September 2025.

Dana tells Collins that Robby hasn’t worked this day in four years because it’s the anniversary of Adamson’s death, and that he might be a little prickly that day, but to give him a pass because he’s still blaming himself for it.

Collins is in her 4th year of residency, which means (if they go by how residents usually start their year in July) she started as an intern in July 2022.

Collins says “We [her and Robby] dated, briefly, a million years ago. Never again.”

At some point during this brief dating period, Robby got her pregnant.

Collins “gave up on him.”

She aborted without telling him because she wasn’t ready to be a mom and wasn’t even sure about the relationship.

He never knew until she told him.

Collins has done IVF on her own at least twice since then.

Two of the gossipiest nurses, who were working in the ER at the time of their relationship, don’t appear to know that Robby and Collins had a relationship at all.

Apocryphal info (stuff the creators have said but isn’t explicit canon)

This is Collins’s second career.

Robby’s relationships tend to last around six weeks because he has a hard time opening up to people emotionally.

Adamson’s death was part of the reason Robby and Collins broke up.

So based on this, I’m going to make some inferences. This is all technically my headcanoning, but it is based on the above info.

For Adamson’s death to affect their relationship, they were probably dating in the second half of 2020, maybe early 2021; meaning Collins was likely an MS3 when she and Robby were dating and not his direct employee. Collins’s statement that they “dated briefly” lines up well with Noah’s assessment that Robby’s relationships have an expiration date of about six weeks. (Since he was obviously with Janey for much longer than that, I assume that relationship took place entirely before Adamson’s death; and therefore, that death is likely a major reason his relationships no longer last beyond two months.) I assume also that Collins is not aware of the significance of Adamson’s death to Robby, because Dana has to explicitly warn her about why Robby might be off today.

So if Collins was not aware of the extremely psychologically damaging effect of Adamson’s death until Dana told her five years later, and Robby had no idea Collins was ever pregnant or that she aborted the fetus until she told him five years later… That does not speak well at all of their communication skills with each other on a personal level (though professionally they seem to work well together). It also doesn’t give me a picture of a deep, strong relationship; based on all of this, plus the fact that Perlah and Princess don’t know about them dating, this relationship feels, to me, like barely more than a fling. And as I’ve said before, Collins gives Moved On to me; like, even beyond my interpretation of her demeanor in their interactions, it’s canon that she’s attempting IVF alone. She wants to be a mother now, but NOT with Robby. I think she enjoys the occasional flirtation (see her little smile when Robby admits to trying to impress her) but that’s as far as it goes for her.

I think Robby’s behavior can be interpreted many different ways, but the way I interpret them is that he still wonders What Could Have Been. I don’t think they ever got far enough that either of them actually fell in love; but he feels there was potential there that got lost. And he sort of plays in the space of being her friend and boss and ex-lover all at the same time and he’s awkwardly trying to set her up on dates, and also still flirting a bit, and giving her leeway to work on her own.

I dunno, they are interesting to me because their relationship is sort of undefinable. It’s not really romantic, at least not anymore, but it’s also not really platonic; it’s professional but it also crosses that boundary in big ways. They have this weird combination of like, knowing each other very very deeply in one sense but in another sense not really knowing each other at all. As a sidenote: I wonder what Collins’s confession will do to that dynamic, because Robby seemed pretty torn up about it. Like the confirmation that there was in fact a Could Have Been and Collins didn’t want it… that’s painful.

[tyelkoandtimo-week]

Welcome to the Tyelkormo & Maitimo Week!

Hello Silm fandom, and welcome to the first year of Tyelkormo and Maitimo Week, hosted by me, @tinwe-the-local-assassin and @sadtimo!

With the C&C and Fëanorians weeks being hosted by the amazing @curufiin and @feanorianweek , Sadtimo and I who have been RPing as Maitimo and Tyelkormo for two years and writing amazing stories involving these two brothers, realized we find their relationship extremely underrated, and they're not talked about enough.

So what better way to shine some light on them but by starting a fandom event?

This event will be kicked off from the 4th-10th of July, and we would love to have you all participate in this event to celebrate these two cute lil bros! 🥺

Now, much like any of the other events, the rules are quite simple:

Please be kind to each participant. Bullying ain't cool kiddos and will not be tolerated.

Writings, drawings, headcanons, moodboards and any other way you amazingly creative people can find to show your brilliant minds are part of this challenge. Go nuts!

Due to both @sadtimo and my own values, we will not be reblogging works containing sibling incest. Anyone is welcome to participate, and we both are thankful of you for respecting us as well.

Please be mindful of the tagging, tw needed, and don't forget to mention us in your posts.(The blog username, but we try to keep up with personal mentions too). And just to make sure it will show up, you can use the tag #tm week. We'll be checking whatever comes up on the feed.

The week is just a formality, so don't worry about submitting works after the deadline. We will be keeping up with them after the event is finished, and we will be giving shout-outs!

Prompts and themes are just there to give you ideas. You don't need to follow them if you don't want to. I personally never do because forcing myself to write/draw a certain topic can never come out like my own moments of inspirations.

Most importantly, just have fun!

Themes and prompts will be further posted on the blog, so be sure to keep up with them!

[unpublishediary]

4th of July Confessions [ conrad fisher ]

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ conrad confesses his feelings for you after a week of fighting and makes sure you know his feelings are real.

INTEREST₊˚ conrad fisher x you

| masterlist |

Not much time had passed since Conrad started his plan to win you back, and you were already growing suspicious.

First, it started with him going to your favorite place to grab your breakfast. He made it a point to hand you a croissant with more than familiar packaging, a gesture that seemed to bring back memories and leave you questioning his intentions.

Then he sat right next to you, even nudging your knee with his as you all ate breakfast, a deliberate closeness that bordered on invasive, stirring up a greater mixture of nostalgia and confusion within you.

Now he was volunteering to help you make the guest bedroom for Belly's dad and his dad's girlfriend.

You knew that Conrad had never been one for chores or family obligations lately. His sudden enthusiasm for helping out was as baffling as it was unexpected. Yet, there he was, smoothing out the sheets with surprising skill as he carefully arranged the pillows on the freshly made bed. It was as if he was determined to prove something to you, though you couldn't quite guess what that something might be.

The fact it was the 4th of July made the Cousins Beach air buzz with excitement and anticipation. Flags fluttered in the breeze, and the distant crackle of fireworks echoed through the neighborhood. The sun beat down, casting a warm glow over everything, as if the day itself was celebrating. But you knew that couldn't be it.

Conrad and you worked side by side, folding sheets and fluffing pillows in the guest bedroom, a comfortable rhythm settling between you. It was a far difference from the awkwardness that had plagued your interactions in recent days, replaced instead by a sense of closeness.

Conrad's sleeves were rolled up, revealing the faint sheen of sweat on his brow as he worked diligently, his movements precise and focused. You couldn't help but steal glances at him when he wasn't looking, admiring the way the sunlight caught the strands of his hair and the curve of his jawline.

Your conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared memories and inside jokes that seemed to bridge the gap between you. With each passing moment, the tension that had once lingered between you melted away, replaced instead by a growing sense of ease and familiarity.

As you smoothed out the final wrinkles in the freshly made bed, Conrad stole a sideways glance at you, his eyes softening with unspoken affection. It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting glimpse of the connection you had once shared and the possibility of what could be.

"We both know I didn't volunteer just to help you make a bed," Conrad remarked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of playfulness as he sat on the finished bed. "I've been wanting to talk to you forever."

You followed him, sitting down next to him. Your gaze met his with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Like you had predicted, there was more to Conrad's sudden eagerness to help than met the eye, and now, as you stood face to face, you couldn't ignore the tension that crackled between you.

"Is that why you insisted on helping me instead of Belly? She did give me a pancake apology," you replied, your tone light but tinged with a hint of teasing.

Your question hung in the air, a thread of curiosity along with a hint of suspicion. As you watched Conrad's reaction, you couldn't help but notice the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his gaze momentarily flickered, betraying his intention to keep his emotions beneath the surface.

His fingers absently traced the pattern on the bedsheet, a nervous energy coursing through him, while his gaze remained fixed on some distant point, as if lost in a sea of conflicting thoughts.

"I mean, I did tell her off at that party if that helps," you offered, your voice light but teasing. You nudged him with your shoulder, a silent invitation for him to share his thoughts.

Conrad's tension eased slightly at your touch, the warmth of your proximity a balm to his troubled soul.

He glanced at you, his eyes softening with a mixture of gratitude and amusement. "Yeah, I heard something about that," Conrad's lips quirked into a smile at your remark, his gaze softening, "The night of our sleepover, right?"

You nodded, a soft chuckle escaping your lips like a fleeting breeze. The memory of that night danced between you, letting you share a flicker of warmth.

You both fell into another comfortable silence, only to be interrupted by the soft rustle of fabric as you leaned your shoulder into Conrad's. Sensing your proximity, Conrad instinctively inclined his head towards yours. He missed your laughter, but it was more like he missed laughing with you. So much that he found himself on the edge of confession.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Conrad's words lingered in the air, tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I know we can't go back in time," he paused, "but I want to know everything I missed," he confessed, his nerves palpable despite his attempt to mask them.

You stayed silent.

Conrad's courage swelled within him. With newfound determination, he lifted his gaze to meet yours, his voice a gentle murmur meant for your ears alone. "I really miss you. I miss Bambi, our secret meetings, everything," Conrad admitted, his sincerity echoing in the tender space between you.

Your gaze met Conrad's with an intensity that sent a rush of warmth flooding through your veins. In that moment, you realized how much you felt the same, and it was scary. It was scary that after everything that happened, you could still feel the same way about him that you did the summer before.

Both of you were closer than ever, but you didn't mind.

Your eyes locked, a silent conversation passing between you as you leaned in, your breaths mingling in the space between you. With a gentle touch, Conrad cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, sending shivers down your spine.

Who initiated the final movement would remain unknown. Yet, in that brief instant of contact, your worlds collided. Your lips met his in a tender embrace. It was a kiss filled with longing and reassurance, a promise of all the words left unspoken. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in the warmth of each other's embrace.

"Guys!" A series of knocks on the door followed Steven's voice. It startled you both, causing you to pull away rapidly, "They're here!"

Breathless and flushed, Conrad's forehead pressed against yours, your hearts beating in sync. In the quiet aftermath, you shared a smile that turned into nervous laughs, "I also missed this," Conrad murmured, his voice a gentle caress against your skin, as you lingered in the quiet space between words. Had you finally found your way back?

You stood up, taming your curls the best you could with your fingers, "Come on, let's go."

NOTE: this scene is a part of my conrad x oc fic. No prior reading is needed to understand, but if youre interested in reading here are the links (rec to read on watt for faster updates, but a03 is fine too):

wattpad link

a03 link

[37sommz]

❁ : meeting myla . . .

���. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff. ✼. wc: 5.3k.

historic silverstone brings more than just a 4th place finish. silverstone is a crossroads with myla button on one side and michaela's parents on the other.

✼. warnings: single dad!jenson, meeting the parents, meeting his daughter, small child?

✼. notes: this is the result of that poll i put out a few weeks ago. myla is the absolute cutest, i love her your honor. jenson and michaela have been together for about 7 months at this point. i don't think i made that clear lol.

000.⠀⠀JULY 17, 2021    ›    Silverstone, UK.

Michaela leaned against the garage wall, her heart still racing from the final qualifying lap. Her helmet was held tightly in her grasp, the visor reflecting the bustling Silverstone paddock. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself before facing the barrage of microphones and cameras that awaited her.

As she made her way over to the press pen, Beata quickly briefed her on McLaren's main press priorities for the race tomorrow. A reminder to keep quiet on the strategy, a recognition of the odds stacked against them despite her third-row start, and a quick wish of 'Buona fortuna' leaving her signature red lips.

Michaela nodded, a hint of exhaustion flashing in her eyes. She knew the drill. But for just a few more moments, she had more to think about than just the race. The journalists threw questions at her nonstop during their individual five minutes. She danced through each one with an ease she undoubtedly owed to her press officer. The usual questions about Lando were tucked in the flurry of questions about new upgrades and efficient wings. But she remained tight-lipped, knowing the drama that could unfold if she gave them anything to chew on.

As she answered the final journalist, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Jenson, "Great job today sweetheart, can't wait to see you tomorrow." A smile ghosted her lips, and she quickly pocketed the phone before it could betray her. The press didn't need to know about them just yet.

Dinner with her parents that night was a whirlwind of questions about the race, the team's strategies, and, inevitably, her love life. She had been dodging the latter for a while now, but her mother was never one to resist the tempting question. "So, Courtney told me she knows the identity of this mystery man you're dating," Miriam said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Is it time we met him?"

Michaela took a sip of her wine, the rich flavor doing little to ease her nerves. "Actually, it is about time, I guess," she began, setting her glass down. "He's someone you've both heard of."

Her parents exchanged a look that was a mix of excitement and concern. "Jenson Button," she announced, watching their expressions closely.

Her father, Tobias, took a moment to digest the information before speaking. "So I've raised both of my daughters to exclusively date Formula 1 drivers?" He said, his voice a mix of surprise and good-natured disbelief. Michaela rolled her eyes as he laughed at his own joke.

"But he was World Champion in what year?" Miriam finally managed to say, the shock on her face was a stark contrast to the shy smile on her daughter's.

Michaela rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "Mum, don't start with the age thing."

Tobias took a sip of his drink, his expression contemplative. "2009, Michaela was 10," he said, setting his cup down. Miriam turned to look at her husband with an air of disbelief. Her brown eyes were wide again as Tobias simply stared at his coffee mug.

"But that means..." Miriam began.

Michaela cut her off gently. "He's only 19 years older than me. It's not that big of a deal, really," she said, hoping to ease their concerns.

Tobias' gaze lifted from his wife, his expression serious. "It is a big deal, Mouse. The man's in his 40s, and he's seen a lot in his time. Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"

Michaela's chest tightened. She knew her parents meant well, but she couldn't help feeling a spark of irritation. "Yes, Dad, I'm sure. We're both adults, and we care about each other."

Miriam reached across the table, her hand covering Michaela's. "We just don't want to see you hurt, or your career suffer because of a man," she said, her voice earnest.

Michaela nodded, her eyes flicking to her father's concerned face. "I know, Mum," she said, her voice soft. "But Jenson's different. He understands the sport, he understands the pressure I'm under." Michaela felt the tension in her neck and took a moment to compose herself before continuing. "We're just enjoying each other's company. It's good for me, good for him, good for my career."

Miriam leaned forward, her eyes sharp with disapproval. "But what happens when it's not just about fun anymore?" she asked, her voice gruff with concern. She huffed as she sat back in her seat, taking in Michaela's stubborn gaze.

Michaela sighed. "Look, I know he has a daughter, her name's Myla, and he has full custody," she said, her eyes darting between her parents. "And I'm not ready to be a mother right now, but Jenson's assured me that we're taking things slow."

Tobias' expression remained unchanged. "That's sweet, Mouse," he said, his voice softer. "But she's not just a part of the package. She's a whole new world to consider, Michaela. You're not just dating Jenson; you're dating his past, his future, his everything."

Michaela felt the weight of her father's words, but she wasn't ready to give in to their doubt. "I know, Dad," she replied, her voice firm. "But we're not rushing into anything. And if it's okay with you guys, I'd like you to meet him tomorrow."

Her parents exchanged a look, and she could see the unspoken conversation playing out between them. After a moment, Miriam spoke up. "We'd love to meet him, darling. We're here to support you, whatever happens," she said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Michaela's shoulders relaxed slightly at her mother's words. "Thank you, Mum, I appreciate you guys trying," she said, smiling genuinely. "He's actually covering the race for Sky Sports tomorrow, so he'll be around."

Tobias nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on his daughter. "Just remember, Mouse, we're not just worried about you. We're worried about his daughter too. She's a little girl with divorced parents, she's got enough drama going on in her life as it is," he said, his voice a gentle reminder of the gravity of the situation.

Michaela's eyes searched her father's, understanding his concern. "I know, Dad. And that's why we're taking it slow," she assured him. "I promise, I'll think about everything you've said."

The conversation shifted to safer topics, and the evening ended with the warmth of a family that had always supported each other through thick and thin. As the night grew later, and her parents retreated to their hotel room, Michaela found herself pacing the floor of her own room, the gravity of the day's events settling in. Her heart was a mix of excitement and anxiety as she dialed Jenson's number.

His voice was calm and steady, a balm to her nerves. "Hello, my love, how'd dinner go?" He asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Michaela took a deep breath and relayed the conversation, her voice a tapestry of emotions. She told him about her parents' excitement and their reservations about Myla. "They're worried, Jense," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "They don't want me to get hurt, or for you to get hurt again."

There was a brief pause on the line before Jenson spoke, his voice gentle. "They're just looking out for you like any good parents would," he said. "But, darling, you know I'd never push you into anything you're not ready for."

Michaela nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I know," she murmured, feeling a lump form in her throat. "They just want to meet you, that's all."

"Well, I'd love to meet them," Jenson said. "But let's not overwhelm everyone at once, especially Myla. She'll be with me tomorrow. Maybe we could all grab dinner tomorrow night, after the race?"

Michaela thought for a moment before agreeing. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, a hint of relief in her voice. "They're staying just down the hall from me, so it'll be easy to find a place nearby."

Jenson chuckled. "Perfect. And if you want, I'll ask Myla if she's okay with it," he offered. "But let's not tell her you're my girlfriend yet. Maybe just say you're a friend."

Michaela's heart skipped a beat. "But what if she doesn't like me?" she whispered, the fear of rejection creeping in.

Jenson's voice was warm and comforting. "Michaela, she's already your biggest fan. Her eyes are glued to your car whenever we watch the races at home," he said with a laugh. "Trust me, she'll love you even more once she finally meets you."

Michaela felt a wave of reassurance wash over her. She had never felt so supported in a relationship before, and she knew she was lucky to have Jenson by her side. "Okay, I'll trust your judgment," she said, her voice a little lighter. "Just try to stay on my parents' good side, yeah?"

"I'll charm them like I charmed you," Jenson said with a playful wink she could almost feel through the phone.

Michaela chuckled, the tension in her shoulders loosening. "Please don't," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know I don't need the competition."

000.⠀⠀JULY 18, 2021    ›    Silverstone, UK.

The next day dawned with the promise of an exciting race, and as Michaela climbed into her McLaren, the dinner to come was the furthest thing on her mind. She pushed aside her pre-race nerves and focused on the wheel in her hands, the roar of the engines and the scent of fuel filling her senses.

Tire strategies played out like a chess match, with each pit stop a strategic move to gain the upper hand. Through it all, Michaela remained calm and calculated, her mind a melding of speed and precision. As the laps ticked down, she found herself in a fierce duel with Lando to hold on to her fourth place. She pushed her car to the limit, her heart pounding in her chest.

On the final lap, the team orders finally came through. Lando was to hold position behind Michaela and bring the cars home in 4th and 5th. As she took the checkered flag, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. The adrenaline rush washed over her, and she couldn't help but thank the team for their focus throughout the race.

After the post-race interviews, the paddock grew alive with excitement and fatigue. Drivers and teams mingled, sharing their experiences and strategies for the next race. Jenson, with Myla Button in tow, approached the McLaren hospitality suite. The little girl's eyes grew wide as she spotted the logos of the cars she had watched roar around the track just moments ago.

Myla Jane Button clutched her father's hand tightly, her eyes searching the sea of people for the one person she had talked about all weekend. "Daddy, where's your friend?" she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

Jenson glanced down at her with a smile, feeling a twinge of nerves. "Patience, darling," he said, leading her through the throngs of people. "She'll be out shortly."

Michaela emerged from the suite, her racing suit swapped for casual attire, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She spotted Jenson and Myla and her heart skipped a beat. The little girl looked so much like him, with the same piercing blue eyes, curly blonde hair, and mischievous smile. As she approached the two of them, she could see her parents approaching Jenson and Myla as well with adoring smiles on their faces.

Myla, yet to see her father's girlfriend from a distance, was busy introducing herself to Michaela's parents, her jaw dropping animatedly as they introduced themselves as the parents of her favorite driver. 

"We’re Michaela Sommers’ mummy and daddy," Miriam said, her voice filled with pride.

Michaela watched from afar, her heart fluttering as she saw the delight in her mother's eyes. She had always dreamed of this moment, her two worlds colliding in a perfect harmony of love and support.

As she drew closer, she could hear Myla's chatter about the race. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and it warmed her heart to see how much his daughter took after his kindness and joy. Jenson looked up and caught her gaze, his eyes lighting up. He whispered something into Myla's ear, and the little girl's eyes grew even wider. She turned to look at the approaching figure, her excitement unbridled.

Michaela's steps grew lighter as she reached them, a warm smile playing on her lips. Jenson introduced her as a friend and a fellow racer. "Jenson, these are my parents," she heard herself say, the words feeling oddly natural. "Mum, Dad, this is Jenson and his daughter, Myla."

Myla's eyes lit up like stars at the mention of her favorite driver's name. She shyly looked up at the taller woman of the two in front of her. "Hi," she whispered, her gaze flicking between the Sommers.

Michaela crouched down to Myla's level, her heart racing. "Hi Myla, I'm Michaela," she said, her voice gentle. "Your dad tells me you had a fantastic time watching the race."

Myla nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "It was the best!" she exclaimed. "And I got to see you drive in real life!"

Michaela couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I'm so excited to meet you," she said, holding out the signed cap she had brought for the little girl. "I heard you're my biggest fan."

Myla took the cap, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh wow," she murmured, looking at it as if it were made of pure gold. "Thank you, Miss Michaela."

Michaela felt a surge of affection for the little girl. "You're welcome, Myla," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "But you can call me Michaela, like everyone else."

Myla looked up at her dad, seeking approval. Jenson's eyes met hers, and he gave a small nod of consent. "Okay, Michaela," Myla said, a smile playing on her lips.

Michaela's heart swelled. Every time she met a little girl who shared her excitement about racing, it reminded her of just how much her presence meant in the sport. She watched as Myla proudly put the cap on her head, the McLaren papaya orange standing out against her blonde hair. "So, what did you think of the race?" she asked, eager to keep the conversation flowing.

Myla's eyes sparkled as she began recounting the race's highlights. Her parents looked on, smiling at her passion. "It was so cool when you passed that one car," Myla said, her eyes shining with excitement. "You're so fast!"

Michaela felt her heart warm at the little girl's words. "Thank you, Myla. I try to be," she said, her voice sincere. She knew that she had to win over not just Jenson's heart, but Myla's as well. The seven-year-old was a direct line to Jenson's soul, and she didn't want to cause any pain or discomfort.

Her parents watched the interaction with a mix of curiosity and hope. They had heard so much about Jenson from the media, but seeing him with his daughter made their concerns seem less pressing. He was a good father, that much was clear, and if he treated Michaela with the same care and affection, they knew she would be in good hands.

Michaela felt the weight of their gazes and stood up, taking a deep breath. "So, dinner?" she suggested, her voice a tad louder than necessary to break the quiet moment. "Myla, would you like to come with us?"

Myla looked up at Jenson, her eyes wide. "Can I, Daddy?" she asked, those same blue eyes Michaela had come to know so well wide with excitement.

Jenson's smile grew, and he looked at her with a proud nod. "Of course, darling. If it's okay with everyone," he said, glancing at Miriam and Tobias who eagerly approved with warm smiles.

The restaurant they chose was a cozy Italian place, a favorite of Jenson's, which offered them a private booth to escape the prying eyes of the public. The air was thick with the aroma of garlic and tomato sauce, and the candles flickered gently, casting a soft glow across the table.

Myla sat between Jenson and Michaela, her eyes wide as she took in the new faces and the excitement of the evening. She had insisted on wearing the signed cap to dinner, which was met with smiles all around. The conversation flowed easily, with Jenson keeping a watchful eye on his daughter, making sure she felt included.

Michaela's parents, while still wary, were won over by Jenson's charm and his clear love for Myla. They pulled Jenson into a conversation of their own as Michaela kept Myla engaged to allow her boyfriend a chance to charm her parents. The little girl listened intently as they talked about the race, asking insightful questions that showed she had been paying attention to her father's commentary.

As the meal progressed, the conversation turned more serious, with Miriam expressing her concerns about the age gap and the potential impact on Myla. Jenson was honest and open, acknowledging his past mistakes and his commitment to prioritizing his daughter's happiness above all else.

"I've been through a lot, Miriam," he said, his gaze earnest. "But I've learned from my past. And if it means taking things slow with Michaela, then that's what I'll do. I won't let anyone, not even myself, disrupt Myla's life again."

Miriam's expression softened, and she reached out to pat Jenson's hand. "We just want what's best for her," she said, her voice gentle. "I'm sure you understand where we're coming from."

Jenson nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I do," he said. "And I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's happy and that she knows she's always a priority in my life."

Michaela's parents shared a look, their concerns slowly melting away. They had seen the love and dedication Jenson had for his daughter, and it was clear that he was a changed man from the one they had read about in the tabloids. "Thank you, Jenson," Tobias said, her voice warm. "That means a lot to us."

As the evening wound down, the conversation turned to more light-hearted topics. Myla giggled at a story Jenson told about a prank he had played on a fellow driver back in his Formula 1 days, and even Michaela's parents couldn't help but chuckle. It was moments like these that made the age gap seem almost non-existent, as they all connected over their shared love for the sport and the people in their lives.

The dessert menu was brought out, and Myla's eyes lit up at the sight of the gelato. "Daddy, can I have the mint chocolate chip?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

Jenson looked at her with a playful smile. "Only if you promise to eat all your veggies," he teased, and Myla huffed playfully before nodding vigorously as Jenson tickled her side.

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her as she watched the interaction. She had never seen this side of Jenson, the gentle, caring father. It was a stark contrast to the fiercely competitive driver she had seen on the track. As they ordered dessert, she couldn't help but feel a rush of something she hadn't felt in a long time: the possibility of a real future with someone who truly cared for her.

The gelato arrived, and as Myla eagerly dug in, Jenson leaned closer to Michaela. "So, what do you think?" he whispered, his eyes searching hers for reassurance.

Michaela met his gaze, her heart full. "They love you," she whispered back with a small smile. "And they see how much you love Myla."

Jenson's eyes searched hers, looking for the truth she held. "And you?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the hum of the restaurant. "Do you think you're ready for all this?"

Michaela took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I know I want to try."

The conversation was cut short as Myla squealed with laughter, her spoon flying through the air and landing on the floor with a clink. Jenson's eyes danced with mirth as he pretended to be shocked by her behavior, and the table erupted into laughter. Myla carefully squeezed past Michaela to retrieve the spoon before requesting polite permission from her father to wash the sticky gelato from her hands.

"Alright, go ahead," he said, his eyes following her as she skipped off to the bathroom.

The moment she was out of earshot, he turned back to the Sommers. "Look, I know the situation isn't ideal," he began, his voice serious. "But I want you to know that I'm not looking for anything to replace what I have with Myla. I just want to share my life with someone who makes me happy, and that's your daughter."

Tobias nodded, his gaze thoughtful.

Jenson took a deep breath, turning to look Michaela in the eyes. "Eventually we’ll get to the point where I'll sit down with Myla and explain everything. But until then, I think it's best if we just let her enjoy getting to know you as a person, not as her father's girlfriend."

Michaela nodded, understanding the delicacy of the situation. 

"We just want you to know that we support you, both of you, no matter what happens," Miriam said, her voice gentle. "Myla is precious, you’ve done a great job Jenson."

Michaela and Tobias both hummed in agreement as Jenson flushed in appreciation. In the lull of the quiet in Myla's absence, Michaela squeezed her boyfriend's hand before leaning over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm glad my girls are getting along so well."

Myla returned, her cheeks still flushed from her rushed trip to the bathroom. She climbed back into the booth, her eyes flicking to the absence of space between her father and her new friend. She slid closer to Jenson, her curiosity piqued by the sudden affection between him and Michaela.

Michaela scooted away shyly, her cheeks reddening slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to ease the sudden tension that had bloomed between them. "So, Jenson," she said, her voice a little too bright. "You mentioned Myla's been watching my races. Does she have any tips for me?"

Jenson chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, she definitely has some advice," he said, ruffling Myla's hair. "But I'll let her tell you herself."

Myla looked up at her father, her eyes wide. "Well, Michaela," she began, the name becoming more comfortable on her tongue. "You should go even faster and win every race. That way, you can be the best!"

Michaela couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of Myla's advice. "That's a big ask," she said, winking at the little girl. "But I'll do my best to make sure you're always proud of me."

Myla beamed, her cheeks pinking up. "You will," she said confidently, her voice filled with the innocence of a child who believes in the boundless capabilities of her heroes.

Michaela felt a pang of something unfamiliar stir within her. The weight of Myla's belief in her was surprisingly heavy, a reminder of the stakes of not only her relationship but also her career. She looked at Jenson, who was watching her with an encouraging smile, and she knew she had to try, for them both.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of laughter and shared stories. Myla had endless questions about the industry and the cars, and both Jenson and Michaela were more than happy to answer, their voices filled with the same excitement they had felt during the race itself. Myla's eyes grew heavy with sleep, her head slowly dropping onto her father's shoulder.

"Looks like someone had a big day," Jenson said with a gentle smile, stroking her hair.

Michaela felt a tug at her heart as she watched the tender scene unfold. "How about we get going?" she suggested, standing up. "It's late, and she's had a lot of excitement."

Jenson nodded in agreement, gently lifting Myla into his arms. "Thank you for a lovely evening," he said to her parents, his eyes warm. "I hope we can do this again sometime soon. With or without this little one."

Miriam and Tobias stood, eyes kind. "We'd like that," she said, reaching out to stroke Myla's cheek. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Night, Michaela's mummy and daddy," Myla mumbled, already half asleep.

Michaela felt her heart jump at the casual endearment. She walked alongside Jenson as they left the restaurant, carrying a sleeping Myla. The cool evening air was a welcome relief after the warmth of the dinner, and the sounds of the bustling city outside were muted by their conversation.

"Thank you for being so sweet," Jenson said, his voice low. "I know it wasn't easy for you."

Michaela nodded her eyes on the sleeping girl. "No, it wasn't," she admitted. "But she's amazing, Jense. I can see why you're so protective."

Jenson kissed the top of Myla's head. "She's my world," he said simply. "After the divorce, I fought so hard to keep her happy and stable. I don't want to do anything to mess that up."

Michaela nodded, understanding all too well the gravity of the situation. "We won't," she assured him, her voice firm. "I'll do everything I can to support both of you."

They walked in companionable silence to Jenson's car, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the restaurant. As they approached, Myla stirred in Jenson's arms, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Can Michaela ride back to the hotel with us?" she mumbled, her voice small and tired.

Michaela and Jenson exchanged glances, both feeling the weight of the question. It was a step they hadn't anticipated, and one both of them weren't sure was wise to take considering the information they had withheld from her at this point.

"Actually, I have to ride back with my mum and dad," Michaela said softly, not wanting to overstep. "But I'll see you both soon, okay?"

Myla nodded, still groggy, and gave her a sleepy wave. "Bye, Michaela," she murmured before her eyes drooped shut again.

Michaela felt a pang of regret as she watched Jenson tuck Myla into the back seat. She knew that she had made the right decision to not reveal their relationship just yet, but it was difficult to hide something so significant from such an astute little girl. With Myla drifting off into sleep, Jenson stood to his full height, studying the longing in Michaela's expression.

"We're going to be okay," he whispered, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This was a great first step."

Michaela nodded, her eyes still watching Myla's peaceful face. "I know," she said, her voice filled with hope. "It's just hard to keep secrets from her. She's so perceptive."

"We'll tell her when the time is right," Jenson assured her, his hand giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "For now, let's just enjoy what we have without the added pressure. The last thing I'd want is to ruin this for any of us, and tonight confirmed that I picked the right woman for this journey."

Michaela's heart swelled with love and hope. She nodded in agreement before leaning in to give him a kiss goodbye. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "I know I'm... younger. But, I do love you."

Jenson returned the kiss, his eyes filled with affection. "And I love you too," he said. "Now go get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow?"

Michaela nodded, watching as Jenson drove away. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The evening had gone better than she could have imagined, and she was grateful for her parents' openness to meeting Jenson and Myla.

The drive back to her parent's hotel was quiet, both her mother and father were lost in their own thoughts. Tobias spoke first a few minutes into the drive, breaking the silence. 

"He seems like a good man, Miri," he said, his eyes observing the twinkle of the stars.

Miriam nodded, her eyes on her daughter. "He does," she said. "And Myla is a lovely girl. I can see why you're smitten."

Michaela couldn't help but smile at her mother's words. "I know it's a lot to take in," she said. "But I promise, I'm going to handle it as best I can."

Miriam reached over the seat to squeeze her shoulder. "We know you will, honey," she said. "We just want to make sure you're happy and that you know we're here to support you."

Tobias spoke up once more, his tone cautious as he broached the worry again. "But you do know you don't have to rush into anything, right?" he asked. "You've got your whole life ahead of you, and we don't want you to sacrifice your career or happiness for someone else or their kid for that matter."

Michaela nodded, feeling the weight of her father's words. "I know, Dad," she said softly. "But I can't help but feel like... this could be it. Like, this is what I've been waiting for."

Tobias met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Just remember to be true to yourself, Mick," he said. "You're still young, and you've got so much ahead of you. Don't let anyone, not even someone you love, dictate your path."

Michaela nodded solemnly, taking in her father's advice. She knew her career was her priority, but she couldn't deny the joy Jenson and now, potentially, Myla brought to her life. As they pulled up to the hotel, she turned to her parents in the backseat. "Thank you for meeting them," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "It means a lot to me."

Miriam leaned over to kiss her cheek. "We just want what's best for you," she said. "But we can see that he makes you happy, and that's all that matters."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her as she pulled the car around to the front of the hotel, allowing her parents the chance to exit before she pulled off to the garage to find parking. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was standing at a crossroads. Her heart was full, but her mind raced with the potential complications of her intensifying relationship with Jenson and her blossoming bond with Myla.

Inside the hotel, she made her way to her room, her thoughts swirling. She knew her parents had her best interests at heart, but she also understood that the path she was choosing was not a conventional one. Her career was on the rise, and she had worked tirelessly to get where she was. Introducing a serious relationship and a child's feelings into the mix was something she had never anticipated.

Michaela's phone buzzed with a message from Jenson, asking if she had made it back safely. She replied with a simple heart emoji, unable to fully express the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing. As she stepped into her hotel room, the quiet solitude allowed her thoughts to race impossibly faster. The potential future she had glimpsed during dinner was both tempting and daunting.

Her mind kept returning to Myla, her bright blue eyes and infectious enthusiasm. The idea of being a stepmother was one she had never seriously considered, but the ease with which she had interacted with the young girl tonight had planted a seed of curiosity in her heart. Was she ready for the responsibility and the joy that came with it? Michaela tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to find a comfortable position as the weight of the evening's events pressed down on her dreams. She thought of Jenson's reassurances, his love for Myla, and his commitment to making sure she felt included in their lives. It was clear that she had made an impact on the little girl, and that was something she could not ignore.

✼. taglist:⠀

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@treehouse-mouse @sunfairyy

[oceantornadoo]

is it cool that i said all that? (5+1 times jack abbot almost confesses his love to samira mohan, pt3) AO3 LINK

-

July arrives sticky and too sweet, like gulab juman after a long dinner with aunties disapproving of your life choices with smiles on their faces. The AC in Samira’s apartment decides to only work from 5-8pm, and her landlord is ghosting her on what seems to be a month long vacation. And of course, July 1st marks the turn into Samira’s fourth year of residency. It also marks her first day as chief resident, having to have not one but two meetings with the residents at 7:30am and 7:30pm to make sure she covers her bases. 

At first, she worried about Cassie’s reaction to Samira getting the Chief Residency spot. They might not be as close as her and Trinity, or the long distance friendship she has with Victoria while she’s in her Dermatology rotation, but she’d like to consider Cassie an ally. A coworker. A person in her corner, willing to call out the gentle misogyny that can weave its way into various decisions Robby makes. But when she walked in that next day after the necklace incident (the offending necklace itself tucked safely away in her jewelry box in her apartment), all Cassie did was grab Samira into an semi-awkward side hug. “Between Harrison and apartment hunting, you really think I’d apply to that? You’re the best woman for the job.” And a little flutter of a hope beat its wings in Samira’s heart. Maybe Cassie could be more than the person Robby compares her to.

But Chief Resident comes with other responsibilities.

Mainly…scheduling.

July 1st, 8:15AM

From: mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

To: santos.trin@ptmc.com, king.mela@ptmc.com, langdon.fran@ptmc.com, mckkay.cass@ptmc.com and 12 others

CC: hr_residency@ptmc.com

Hi all,

Below is the schedule for the upcoming two weeks (please refer to my email from June 14th for the July 1-12th schedule). This is a friendly reminder that this schedule is only subject to change with reasonable exceptions!

Thanks,

Samira Mohan (she/her)

Chief Resident, Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center ER

mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

July 1st, 8:17AM

From: santos.trin@ptmc.com

To: mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

I’m switching with McKay’s shift on July 19 and she’ll take my July 14.

Thanks,

Trinity

July 1st, 3:28PM

From: mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

To: santos.trin@ptmc.com

Hi Trinity,

Unfortunately, a R2 cannot switch with an R4. If you do not find a suitable substitute, you will have to work July 14. Please keep me in the loop.

Thanks,

Samira Mohan (she/her)

Chief Resident, Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center ER

mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

July 1st, 5:37PM

From: santos.trin@ptmc.com

To: mohan.sam@ptmc.com 

I’m not working with him, Samira. I’ll find someone.

Trinity

-

Three days later, Trinity has still not found a substitute. And two of the residents (Yao and Fisher, both on vacation when Pittfest happened) haven’t done their compliance training, which Gloria is already emailing her about even though they have 17 days left to do it. And it’s 7:12am on July 4th, where Jack is working a double and Robby’s pre-shift hoorah speech has been interrupted by a drunk idiot with a mini-flag on a wooden skewer protruding out of his chest.

The EMT, an older woman Samira has never seen before, starts rattling off stats as Samira, Jack, and Trinity walk the stretcher to Trauma One. “Am I going to die?” The twenty-eight year old white male with a BAC of 0.17% slurs, his dull brown hair flopping against the pristine white sheets. Samira can see Trinity physically bite back a comment about his stupidity, and irrationally wants to pat her friend on the back. “We’re doing everything we can, Mr…” Samira trails off, looking to the EMT, who just shrugs. “We couldn’t find a wallet and he kept slurring.” She says, joining them in Trauma One to help with the transfer. They transfer on Samira’s count, John Doe’s body hitting the gurney with a thump. Samira immediately starts rattling orders off to Donnie and Trinity, but some vigilant part of her watches as Jack and the EMT make conversation at the back of the room.

“Can’t believe you’re working today, Rabbit.” The EMT punches Jack’s arm, quirking a sharp blonde brow when he shrugs. Samira’s never heard him be referred to as Rabbit, and the familiarity with this stranger conjures a large question mark that hangs over her head invisibly. “Could say the same for you, Sneezy. Don’t you have a cabin in Maine?” The EMT (Sneezy, it seems, but Samira can’t even touch that) mirrors Jack’s shrug and crosses her arms over her chest, making her muscles pop. They continue to shoot the shit, speaking another language Samira’s never heard out of Jack’s mouth. Friendship and experience weave into syllables, leaving the conscious part of Samira’s head fuzzy as she unconsciously continues to work on the John Doe. This whole time they’ve been stabilizing the patient, realizing the blood that had been leaking out of him was a nicked artery and nothing too pressing. Still, Samira would like a surgery consult, and Walsh appears like a haint two minutes later with her hair pulled back in her usual severe bun.

“Sneezy, what are you doing bringing me this?” Walsh comments as she checks the work the group has done, seemingly satisfied as she doesn’t throw a usual insult at Jack. It’s her version of a pat on the back as she nudges Samira out of the way with no venom in her movements. “Heard Rabbit was working and had to make sure he was still alive.” The EMT comments, words laced with comfortability, like she knows Jack outside of this sterile house of bacteria and blood. Walsh snorts, already moving the gurney out of the room. “I expect a better case next time. This is work for my intern.” John Doe on the gurney gasps, and it’s like everyone just remembered he was here. Donnie hides a snort as Trinity does not hide her grin, and now it’s Walsh shrugging as she continues to move him towards the elevators. 

“If you make me drink piss next week, I’m never taking one of your patients again!” Walsh yells over her shoulder, and disappears in a cloud of benign contempt. Samira snaps her gloves off into the biohazard bin, and it’s like she’s just been dunked into an ice bath. For some reason, she barely remembers the trauma she just handled at record speed, and instead the word drinks floats around her brain like a cloud. All the stress she’s been dealing with, for $2 per hour extra courtesy of the Chief Resident program, hits her like a tidal wave, and this confusing conversation is the last drop in the ocean of her absolute tiredness. 

“You good?” She seems to have summoned Jack, and only when he speaks does she realize everyone else has evacuated Trauma One (even the EMT). “I’m fine. Going to check the board.” Samira grabs some hand sanitizer first, focusing on scrubbing it into her skin as Jack stands silently behind her. Task complete, she moves to leave the room, but a solid hand grabs her forearm and holds her in place. “You did a good job, Mohan.” That must be what he thinks she’s worried about, and she hates how her real reason is so superficial. Why does she even care who that EMT was? Or how she seems to have a nickname for him? He doesn’t have to tell her everything, and it’s not like they discuss their personal lives, well, ever. It’s just the stress of this new job, that’s it, and stress is so easy to deal with, it's practically routine. Shove it in a mental box and take it out in the shower, where her muscles will finally relax and some tears might escape.

It’s fine.

Samira shakes herself out of his hold and resumes her original path to the board. He follows, of course, one step away from her heel. They arrive in front of the board silently, and she realizes she still hasn’t responded to his praise, which usually settles in her stomach like warm hot chocolate after a snowy shift. “Thanks. You did a lot, too.” She takes a quick glimpse, finds a case, and strolls to North 2 without a reply from Jack, content to drop it at that.

But Jack Abbot is a dog with a bone and, well, he never drops anything.

-

July 4th is stereotypically hard for Jack. But if he isn’t here, he’ll be on the floor of his single-level house with all of the cameras to his security system up, constantly vigilant as every firework boom shakes the house. In recent years (i.e. the past three), he’s been able to mostly be a functioning human at the Pitt with his usual concoction of SSRIs and therapist-recommended breathing techniques. Before then, sometimes Robby would stuff him in the on-call room with noise-canceling headphones and a prescription of Benzos for his predictable panic attack. But something has changed – in these three years, he’s been able to survive at the Pitt through sheer will.

And a flash of dark brown skin and doe eyes and furrowed brows and a dimple that only comes out after the success of solving a hard case, but he tries not to jinx himself by overthinking.

Seeing Sneezy helped a little. They trained at Carlisle Barracks together, sweat and bloodshed threaded into that mutual understanding of two kids who had no idea what they signed up for. And of course, that first deployment in a desert they had no business being in, where Violet had sneezed everyday, earning her the name that never went away. They met Walsh the second deployment, along with Martinez and Omondi and Sheehy, and formed some sick group of medics who were too green and too overbearing to be anywhere but here. They always got together after the 4th, to remind each other of what was lost and what’s still here, beating like a brand on his heart. 

So it’s safe to say Jack’s a little too on his guard, on “war mode” as his sisters would say, that when he hears metal crash in North 2 twenty-six minutes after Samira disappeared behind the curtain, he goes a little wild.

The scene comes in flashes, like he’s experiencing a highlight reel in real time. Samira frozen, shoulders up to her ears. A bloody hand on her wrist, tugging right where Jack’s hand just was. The wide eyes of a patient, his mouth curved like a knife. The actual knife in the man’s shaking hand, soaked with blood. The blood does it (and logic argues it’s the patient’s own and not Samira’s, but he’s not really listening to logic right now). 

He should call Security. He should call for Robby. He should do a lot of things, but he’ll be damned if anything happens to the one woman who brings light to this place, even if they’re just friends.

So instead, Jack slips into his training like a second skin. Disarms the man instantly, kicking the knife away after it clatters to the floor, and then restraining both of his hands to the top of the gurney. Samira’s voice is calling out for Security in the background, but in this moment it’s just Jack and him. And maybe there’s a small part of him that takes pride in the fear in this man’s eyes, the knowledge that he’s successfully protected his Samira. 

It’s just a second, but he travels through a decade of warfare in a blink.

Robby’s hand is at his back, attempting to guide him away. Ahmad has his handcuffs out and some of the staff are restraining the patient’s feet. But he can still feel the IED under the tank, the thump of gunpowder on metal, the screams of the soldiers around him. It’s walking through hellfire, the bloodshot eyes of the patient anchoring him in place.

“Jack.” A soft voice rumbles, and Robby’s hand is replaced by a gentler one. “Jack, I’m okay. You can let go of him.” Tension releases in his back under her warmth, but he still can’t let go. “I’m safe, Jack. I’m not hurt.” Something is still shaking inside of him, rattling like a snake.

“Stand down, Sergeant. I’m okay.”

Jack releases, and people in scrubs and uniforms swarm in. That same hand guides him back until they’re out of the room. He can’t look in her eyes, can’t see the fear that’s there, so he just lets her lace their hands together as she walks somewhere unknown. He’s Orpheus, but more resolute, refusing to catch her gaze as he watches white tiles become elevator floor become basement concrete.

They’re in some underground storage unit, some part of the Underworld where he can longer hear the fireworks being set off at 9am. She stops at a cleaner part of the floor, guiding his back to the wall and sliding down with him, their fingers still laced.

He doesn’t know what to say. Maddening, heart-aching guilt rushes in when he realizes this is the point he would usually mourn the absence of his wife, but that hasn’t been completely true in years and it’s even harder to acknowledge he’s content that Samira is here instead. His breathing has, miraculously, slowed on their meditative walk and his vision is no longer tunneled. Instead, Jack finds the contrast of her golden-brown skin against his pale, and rubs his thumb against her knuckles.

“I was irritated at you earlier.” She confesses, slumping against the wall. “Why?” Jack croaks, his voice dry like desert rocks. Samira’s quiet for a second, picking and choosing her words. “Something irrational. It doesn’t matter now.” He wants to push, so desperately it hurts, but he can’t demand anything from her. He doesn’t have that role. It’s one of a partner, lover, boyfriend (how juvenile that sounds), and that is resolutely not him. Samira doesn’t date, despite the flirtations she receives from mail carriers, and if she did, it wouldn’t be him. He’s putting enough strain on her as a friend, forcing her to walk him back from the edge of a violent mistake. So he swallows his question and doesn’t push.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes. When she doesn’t answer for a while, he steels himself and looks up at her. Traces the line of her jaw, the slight curve of her cheekbones, the fierce black of her brows. But there’s no fear in her eyes (pupils normal and reactive), or worse, pity, just confusion. “I wasn’t scared, Jack. I was worried for you. You could never scare me.” He exhales sharply at that, tipping his head back into the wall. She wasn’t scared. It’s like a benediction, his Irish Catholic childhood rearing its ugly head. And this could be the moment, where he takes her words as a sign to confess. To sabotage this golden thread between them, because he’ll no longer be just a friend who respects her. And that open look on her face is almost encouraging, but he won’t be able to look at her if it falls when he says the speech he’s been rehearsing since Pittfest. So he squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back, and it has to be enough.

And they stay there for a while, ignoring the shift both of them should be working. His eyes trace the painted beige brick of the basement walls as she rants about scheduling issues and Gloria. And her voice is a little quieter when she references the fellowships she’s considering and how she might want to be closer to her mom in New Jersey, but isn’t sure if her mom wants the same. And the whole time he rubs her knuckles, willing it to be enough. 

The rest of July 4th passes sickly slow, the dying cough of a soldier just trying to survive the night. With every boom that shakes the building, he takes a deep breath and catches Samira’s eyes. She gives him a strengthening nod each time, and when it’s 7:06am on July 5th, it’s like Jack can finally breathe.

When he blinks, it’s 8pm on a mid-July Friday night, and Jack’s willing himself to walk the ten steps into Sally’s. It’s run by a military couple, two veterans who understand a place is needed for people like them. A group of guys exit, the door swinging behind them as laughter trails their leave. One of them wearing an Army jacket nods at Jack, eyes dark like he’s able to sense a kindred spirit. Jack nods back, and it’s enough muscle to go in.

The bar itself is a PTSD-haver’s dream. There’s no dark corners, just exit maps on every wall as acoustic rock oldies croon out of the speakers. Every booth has faux walls separating them, ensuring every person’s back can be covered fully. Jack finds Walsh and Sneezy quickly, their hyena laughter signalling that they didn’t wait to start drinking. He slides into the oak wood booth easily, his prosthesis barely complaining. 

“The Rabbit popped out of his burrow!” Sneezy remarks, giggling at her own joke. Her and Walsh seem lighter here, a brief reprieve from memories that haunt them all. Jack opens his mouth, but a heavy hand clamps down on his shoulder, interrupting his retort. When Jack turns, he’s greeted by Omondi’s blaring grin, never dampened by his environment. “Brother!” They do that one-armed hug thing, and then Martinez appears with drinks from the bar and for a moment, he’s surrounded by family again. 

They drink beer and reminisce and cheer to Sheehy’s memory every time, the phrase thick like cotton in Jack’s mouth. He thinks of his thumb running over a soft knuckle to ground himself, heart slowing to a normal beat as he pretends to be, well, normal.

Until Walsh seems to be a shithead, per usual.

“So, Rabbit Abbot.” Walsh starts. He rolls his eyes as Martinez nudges his ribs. “When are you going to ask out the Chief Resident you’re obsessed with?” Omondi starts wolf whistling while Sneezy’s brows furrow like she’s doing calculus in her head. “Is that the one who ran the trauma we worked?” Sneezy asks, mouth quirking like she already knows the answer. Now Jack is really in for it. “The Chief Resident has a name, Walsh, and yes, Mohan did run that trauma.” Now Martinez is murmuring her name like a twelve-year old and he’s really, really regretting those four beers.

“I know her name, Abbot. I just like to remind you that she’s more accomplished than you were as an R4.” Walsh remarks with her usual irritated tone, softened by the fifth gin and tonic she’s sipping. “Smart and younger, Rabbit? Sounds like you should ask her out just so we can see her turn you down.” Martinez mouths off, his eyes glimmering like he’s remembering the story of how Claire rejected Jack the first time he suggested dinner (in a bar like this one, when he was 24 and got off-base privileges for the first time). 

“Nah, I think he might have a chance. She was sending him a lot of looks during the trauma.” Sneezy remarks, waggling her brows. Jack snorts at the thought of this age-old longing being returned. “I’m serious, Abbot. Take the chance before I do.” Walsh challenges, and that opens up a whole can of worms, Martinez reminiscing about when Walsh stole his two-week fling.

The rest of the night passes like a dream. When Jack trudges out around 1am, basically his lunchtime, the streets sparkle with rain that’s long gone. Sneezy’s words echo in his head, the resoluteness that Samira might respond to romantic advances. She doesn’t know Samira though, and it’s likely Samira was just seeing if Jack would step in during the trauma. But Walsh does know Samira, at least as a professional, and her conviction that Samira can be taken from him leaves his skin unsettled.

The thought follows him home, trailing like a shadow. 

If Samira’s attention can be taken from him (or whatever hallucination Walsh has made up), does that mean he has it in the first place?

And how can he make sure it stays that way?

[reminiscingtonight]

Reunions

Alessia Russo & Reader (Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader)

Word Count: 713

A/N: Started this after the transfer news. Finished after Alessia's semi-final goal. Seems fitting to add it the Setbacks Universe

[Setbacks Masterlist] // [WOSO Masterlist]

The last couple months have been a rollercoaster. 

After working through your injury, you’ve bounced back with a vengeance, all the weeks you’ve spent cooped up translating to endless bounds of energy on the field. 

There’s no other way to describe the second half of the season than constant ups and downs. 

Arsenal beat out Chelsea for the Conti-Cup title. 

Your girlfriend tore her ACL.

You sold out the Emirates for the Champions League semi-final.

You lost the Champions League semi-final. 

And then you got called up for the freaking World Cup.

It’s definitely a bittersweet feeling, being called up to live your dreams while your girlfriend is stuck watching on the sidelines. But Leah’s quick to reassure you of how much you deserve it. Of how proud she is of you.

You thought making the world cup squad would be the highlight of your year. The peak of this year of ups and downs.

You never accounted for one Alessia Russo.

July 4th might be America day to those living across the pond, but July 4th will always be “Alessia Russo joins Arsenal” day to you.

“So.”

Blue eyes look up at you, narrowing with good reason. There’s a devious look in your eyes as you plop down next to one of your best friends. 

“Missed us that much, huh?” 

Alessia’s dressed in Arsenal gear, having just finished her photoshoot and making her rounds around the training ground. You lit up the second the blonde opened the door to the physio room, you having had accompanied Leah to her appointment, and you haven’t left Alessia’s side since.

Alessia rolls her eyes. “Lotte maybe. You? Not so much.”

“Ouch, you wound me,” you gasp, hands clutching at your heart.

Of course you’ve been aware of all of the rumors floating around. Alessia Russo to Arsenal everyone said, the media, the fans. Everyone but the one person who actually mattered. 

Despite all of your probing, Alessia refused to tell you where she was actually headed to after her contract with Manchester United ended. 

You were just starting to entertain the idea of her following her ex-Manchester teammate to Barcelona when Alessia finally spilled the beans. Not even Leah’s injured form could stop you from lifting and twirling your girlfriend around when you got the news. Leah had simply laughed at you, telling you to put her down.

And now you’re here. Sitting in the oh-so familiar locker room, with someone who’s also oh-so familiar, just not familiar with this side of the field.

“I can’t believe it. The Tar Heel gals, back together again.”

Alessia snorts at the phrase, remembering when she shouted that upon your late addition to the Lionesses senior squad.

“Only this time we get to do it at Arsenal.”

“The better reds,” you nod in return, laughing when Alessia shoves you back in retaliation. Alessia might be a gunner now, but you know she’ll always have a soft spot for her childhood team.

“Babe, leave her alone.”

The sight of Leah making her way into the locker room has your face breaking out into a smile, but something akin to a whine is quick to break out of your mouth at her warning. “But Leah! Lessi is--”

The sight of a perfectly crafted eyebrow raising at you has you shutting your mouth with a click.

“Lessi is what?” Alessia eggs you on, laughing at the face you pull at her. 

Leah ignores the disgruntled look you shoot her way, sighing at your dramatics. “The two of you are children.”

“Well this child gets to go home with you,” you point to yourself. “That child is banned from… ” you trail off, trying to think hard of something to stay. 

It’s Alessia’s muffled laughter that has you blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Alessia’s banned from ever meeting Winnie!”

The silence that follows is very telling.

Leah avoids eye contact while Alessia looks all too gleeful.

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at Alessia. “You’ve already met Win?! They wouldn’t let me meet her until I my second month here!”

.

The three of you run into Win on your way out.

Leah has to try not to laugh when Win nearly knocks you over to get to Alessia.

[wyattjohnston]

still home to me - nick blankenburg

series: need a little company

summary: nick finds out where he's spending the 24-25 season. sort of.

word count: 1.5k

It was the 1st of July. For most, it was just another day in the way of the 4th of July. For anybody involved or interested in the NHL it was the start of Free Agency—or the day a good percentage of the league learnt of their new homes. Officially learnt of them, anyway.

Morgan had been waiting for the answer for a week. Agents weren’t supposed to have been talking to General Managers before midnight, but it was an open secret that deals were all but put to paper before the day came. At least that was true for the bigger players who had multiple teams interested. Nick was staring down one team who had expressed interest in signing him, and Morgan was sure that contract was being signed when Nick answered his phone and darted into the bedroom of the cottage they were leasing for the summer.

The water of Anchor Bay was calm, undisturbed by any winds or boats, and Morgan stared across it, only taking her eyes off it when she heard the door open behind her. She swung her legs over the side of the recliner so that she was facing Nick.

“So…” Morgan trailed off, tracking him as he moved further onto the deck. “Nashville?”

The smile on his face was unshakeable when he said, “Yeah, two-way in the first year.”

“And you said their AHL team was in Wisconsin?”

“Yeah. Milwaukee.” A beat followed. Nick’s face faltered.  “You’re not happy.”

“No,” Morgan sighed sadly, standing up. “I’m sorry; I’m so, so happy for you.” She smiled at him, genuine and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am happy, and I am proud and I’m just being selfish. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you. I know you’ve been worried.”

“I’m still worried,” he said, his hands remaining by his sides. Morgan pulled back to see his eyebrows pulled together as he said, “I thought you were happy with Nashville.”

“I am happy that you’re happy with Nashville,” she clarified. “I just… The more I think about it, the less I think I want to be in Nashville alone if you get sent to Milwaukee.”

“I might spend most of the season in Milwaukee, you can stay there?”

Morgan sighed and she stepped backwards to put some distance between herself and Nick. She sat back down on the recliner, her shoulders slumped, and she avoided all eye contact with him as the frustration from the uncertainty bubbled out of her.

“Do I want to be there by myself if you get called up?” she asked her toes. “When you were in Cleveland it was doable because I was happy to drive up on Friday after work and go home on Sunday night—and you could visit during the week. But, like, flights between Milwaukee and Nashville aren’t going to be that easy and I don’t have anything in either of those cities. I don’t particularly care about answering phones, and I don’t think I’m saving the world, but I at least I was keeping busy while you were gone.”

Nick’s feet appeared in her vision, his hand gently pressing down on her shoulder and his thumb brushing over the hinge of her jaw.

“You can stay in Columbus, Mo,” he assured her. She could hear the struggle in his voice and picture it on his face without even looking at him. “If that’s what you really want, I can fly you wherever every weekend.”

“Well, no…” she sighed. “That sounds way worse than being with you sometimes. I fucking hate Columbus.”

“Then I don’t know what you want me to do, Mo. I can’t change Nashville’s AHL team, and I can’t accept offers from teams that haven’t made one.”

Morgan’s chest ached and she finally lifted her head. The struggle on his face was exactly what she’d imagined, and it only made her heart ache more. She grabbed the hand that was on her shoulder and held it to her mouth, kissing it gently before pressing it to her chest.

“I… Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve made this all about me. This is a huge day for you and I’m being a cry-baby.” She stood without warning, startling Nick into taking a couple steps back. “We should go tell your parents, and then get ice cream on the way home, and tonight I’ll blow you on the boat.”

She walked past him, tugging on his hand to get him to follow. He didn’t move an inch. Morgan pouted, her shoulders falling dramatically as she waited him out.

He didn’t sound any more enthused than he looked when he said, “We have to talk about it.”

“We will,” she assured him, closing the space between them and leaning in to press a tender kiss to his cheek. “We have the whole summer to talk about it. Right now, we need to go tell some people.”

Nick agreed, though he still wasn’t as excited as he had been when he first found her on the porch. They moved through the house, Morgan picking up the car keys as they passed her bag in the kitchen; Nick held his hand out for them when they reached the car, but Morgan kept them curled up in her palm.

“I love you.”

Nick didn’t hesitate to say back, “I love you, too, Mo.”

Nick’s parents were, perhaps predictably, much more excited by the news the moment they first heard it. There was no hiding their excitement, Karen immediately gushing over her son and Karl being unbelievably proud. The immediate dual FaceTime calls to his siblings only added to the excitement, and Morgan couldn’t deny that their excitement had eased her own nerves. Though the thoughts of her future never strayed too far from her mind.

They made it back to their summer home after the hearty meal Karen prepared for the entire family, so full that they both moved sluggishly. The late evening weather was perfect for a trip out on the boat, and there was no conversation needed between them—both just making their way to the dock as soon as they were out of the car.

Nick was in charge of getting the boat into the middle of the lake—a good distance away from the one other boat that had decided to go out under the moon that night—and Morgan laid herself out on the floor of the boat, her legs crossed at the ankles and her gaze firmly on the stars above her.

With the anchor dropped, Nick joined Morgan, their arms pressed skin-to-skin from shoulder to fingertip.

“I have another option for what you can do during the season.”

Morgan barely tilted her head; it was just enough to see him in her peripheral vision before she returned to finding consolations. She laced their fingers together and said, her voice barely audible over the waves brushing up against the side of the boat, “We don’t need to talk about it tonight, Nick.”

Nick hummed, but Morgan knew that it wasn’t in agreement and that it was only a matter of time before he continued with what he was going to say, so she squeezed his hand to let him know that he could continue.

“You can stay with my parents.”

It floated through Morgan’s brain for a moment, six words that felt unbelievably loaded. She clarified, to buy more time, “Here? In Michigan?”

“Yeah,” he said as he shuffled onto his side. His refusal to let go of Morgan’s hand meant she was drawn closer, and their faces were only inches apart. His mouth was tilted up at the ends. “I mean, it doesn’t change that you’ll have to fly out and see me, but you won’t be alone most of the season. I’ll fly you out when we have decent homestands or whenever you want. For a night, I don’t care. And if you need something to do, the business could always use an extra pair of hands—or my mum could use an extra set of eyes on the paperwork.”

With her heart beginning to beat just a little bit faster, Morgan inhaled a steadying breath before she rolled over to face him. “Nick… Your parents don’t want me around all the time. Especially when you’re not.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” he said, his smile growing wider. He took the opportunity of her getting comfortably to poke at the bottom of her ribs, eliciting a high-pitched laugh that cut through the quiet night. “It was my dad’s idea, and he already suggested it when it was clear I was going to be spending more time in Cleveland than Columbus because he didn’t like the idea of you living alone with nobody nearby.”

Morgan shuffled across the boat’s deck, trapping their entwined hands between their bodies as she wrapped her other one over Nick and pulled him in tight.

“I just want to be with you. That’s all. The second it looks like we know where you’re playing most of the season I will be there. It just… I let my weird little ego get the best of me in college and missed four years that I could have spent almost every day with you.”

“Four years? We were at school at the same time for two years.”

“I would have stayed in Michigan. You’re my home.”

please let me know what you thought about this <3

[rowdyluv]

Luke’s reaction to Rosey being pregnant? Who was the first person to find out rosey was pregnant?

note: remember that rosey is a nickname Luke gave to you when you two were younger….

Ellen and your (Rosey’s) mom were the first to know. The mom’s were having lunch at the Hughes’s when you texted them both asking which test was the best to buy. Which put the mom’s into a frenzy. They both jumped into action forgetting their lunch. Both were way too aggressive about finding out where you were in that moment. Neither mother stopped long enough to process that it was their teenage, college student daughter and son’s girlfriend who they were talking to.

As for Luke ..

He honestly thought you (rosey) were playing a joke on him at first, he wasn’t very happy initially either... (more in depth further down) plus They had just started their first year of college when everything surfaced for them.

Timeline Breakdown: so we established in a previous post that Emersyn’s birthday is April 8th 2022. To lay out how everything falls into place:

Using math, and then using a generator online to double check myself, with that birthdate a round about date of conception would be between June 30th to July 4th of 2021..

I’m thinking of going on the line with usually has more of an irregular cycle, often skipping months as is so she didn’t think much of it. Until she starts to feel sluggish and sick. She notices she’s pushing two missed periods and is more into the 9 weeks mark. By now classes have started at umich. She’s missing quite a few of classes because she’s having problems with nausea. The first trimester ends in October.

She went to the closest pharmacy and that’s when you call the moms. They had her go back to the dorms and wait for them to come. They showed up with test after test.

Rosey stuck all different types of tests in a cup, the next few minutes were agonizingly slow for all three women. Of course each one of the used tests had their own form of positive.

September 13, is the day she found out for sure. Rosey wasn’t sure when to tell Luke, she didn’t want to right away because she hadn’t wrapped her own head around it yet. But Luke being Luke and he was antsy about you still being sick. The moms talked her into telling him the same day…

Luke came over to her dorm right after his practice and was concerned to see his mom and Rosey’s mom in the kitchenette / lounge area. He asked the moms where Rosey was and Ellen quietly told him to go talk to her in her room.

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he approached her door. Was something wrong with her? Had she been holding something back from him? He knocked on her bedroom door, small soft voice called out shakily, “you can come in,”Luke pushed the door open and soaked in the sight of his usual bubbly, warm, inviting girlfriend that sits on the middle of her bed closed off, pale, and almost unrecognizable. Luke took a step in and shut the door behind him before walking towards her. “Ba—” She cut him off. She flinched from at the start of the pet name. “Don’t say that, dear god please don’t say that.” Her voice continued to shake, this time only worse. Luke looked at her questioningly. She glanced up and met his eyes. Then it happened. The words poured out of her mouth like she spewing them out. She couldn’t wait a moment longer after seeing his the hurt, questioning eyes.

“Luke-I’m-Pregnant.” The words came out practically as one single word

In a blink of an Rosey was a mess of tears, stumbling off if her bed, over to stand in front of him.

Moments of silence passed between them.

“Lukey.” Her voice barely audible, her body rattled her with sobs. Luke was stiff as a board wanting to reach out for her but his body physically unwilling. He hated seeing her cry. It killed him, but his twinge of anger was fueling him more than anything else.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant, y/n?!” Luke’s voice bounced around in her head a lot louder than it actually was when he spoke. Rosey took a couple steps away from Luke. He never rose his voice at her. “I’m serious y/n. Is this some kind of joke you set up since you’ve been sick?” Luke’s volume was much higher this time. Rosey was shocked that he had yelled at her, she was even more shocked that he addressed her by her legal name. The last time Luke had directly called her, by her legal name was such a long time ago neither of them remember when it happened.

Disbelief was written all across her face, eyes wide, and her heart racing.

“Luke Warren Hughes.” His names left her lips in an angry whisper. A dramatic contrast to that of his booming predecessor questioning. “What I mean is that you and I are having a baby together. Whether you’re on board or not.” Rosey paused taking a centering breath. “That is what happens when we have sex and we make the decision to continue even when you realize there isn’t a condom to be found in your’s or Jack’s room at the lake house.” With renowned confidence she approached him and pushed her flat palm on his chest with emphasis on the word ‘we’. Her voice getting stronger, louder as she went on. Getting angrier at the thought of all he said.

“We had unprotected sex Luke. It was a possibility, you know that. It was a mutual decision to have sex without protection.” Rosey dropped her forehead to his chest. Luke’s arms twitch at his side, wanting to embrace her, he just can’t make himself move to do so. “We talked.. We said we aren’t going to be with anyone else why does it matter. It wasn’t a big deal then to go without one and you.. YOU said that we would be okay with anything to come our way this year. You promised me. I know we didn’t expect a baby to be apart of college, this early on, or really I don’t know how you feel about wanting kids.. So why would you even think I would joke about this.”

Luke’s head was spinning he wasn’t sure what to say or do. She shocked him when she suddenly announced it the way she did. He was just confused and he just did what he does best and it was blurting out the first thing in is mind. He wanted to turn and leave to figure out what to say but if he leaves he knows that would look like he’s walking out on their relationship.

As if telepathy was real Ellen knocked on the door and entered after announcing herself. “Now that emotions are out. Let’s go both of you, out here. We’re getting this settled, and Luke.” Ellen’s tone of voice started of soft and turned to one only mother ready to discipline has. “Your father and I raised you better than this. I thought you knew better than to raise your voice at your significant other. Even when angry you can keep a level tone of voice.” Luke’s face falls as he glances over at the love of his life. He knew yelling at her was wrong. He knew everything he said to her was wrong.

How am I ever going to get myself out of this.

[tweedcola]

The Gardener - Chapter One; We're not off to a great start

This is meant to be set loosely after FATWS but won't be taking into account the events of Thunderbolts. I've never written a series before so I'm looking forward to this! Hope you enjoy x

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None for this chapter! Stay tuned for smut in later instalments.

There’s someone in his yard.

Bucky’s gotta say, he’s been pretty pleased with his decision to escape from the city so far. He’s been met with the kind of anonymity and dismissal from the small rural town where he’d chosen to lay his roots that he’d been craving for years.

Small-town America doesn’t do strangers and interlopers all that well, and Bucky finds that with a couple of measured stares and his cold-shouldered non-attendance at the neighbourhood’s 4th of July potluck he’s left pretty much to his own devices. He’s been fully moved into his new home for two weeks and has found a haven in the bliss of being alone and being unknown. Until now, that is.

Because now – there’s someone in his yard.

You tug at a particularly stubborn bramble, thankful for your thick gardening gloves to protect you from the burrowing thorns. This sort of weed is such a trial to get rid of, and you’d been dismayed to realise that it had spread under Mr Garcia’s lawn in its entirety. A lawn that you’d spent weeks fertilising and manicuring before you’d noticed the invasion.  You’d definitely made it worse, and you curse yourself as you work, bitching at past-you for her cheerful ignorance.

You give up eventually, grabbing your shears and chopping the weed as close to the root as possible before discarding the limb onto your bonfire pile. It’s not even good for compost – it’ll just spread again. You take a step back and survey your work so far, reminding yourself not to berate past-you too harshly. Really – you’ve done quite a good job in four months.

You’d been dying to get your hands on Mr Garcia’s garden since you’d moved in next door two years ago. You’d admired the towering apple trees, the rows of borders just begging to be filled with colour and life, the perfect angle of the small pond that the sun hit just right in the evenings, creating an almost tropical environment that the local frogs liked to bask beside.

It was a paradise just waiting to be realised and you were determined to be the one to do it. Or at least help. But Mr Garcia was a proud man, and you’d not felt comfortable offering your assistance until the day he’d returned from his daughters’ house with a wheelchair.

“It’s these old bones,” he’d complained to you over the fence that evening. “Can’t rush around like I used to. You enjoy being young pequeña paloma.” And as it turned out, he’d been delighted with your offer, encouraging you to swing by whenever you had the time. He joined you for the first couple of visits, but it wasn’t long before you were letting yourself in the side gate and just getting to work. Sometimes Mr Garcia would notice and call out a hello, and sometimes he wouldn’t. You didn’t really mind much either way, so long as he continued to allow you to work on your project.

Bucky stands stock still in the large kitchen that overlooks his yard. He’s fairly certain that the shadows thrown by the dim light of dusk are concealing him but he’s not going to risk unnecessary movement if he doesn’t have to.

Who the hell are you? What are you doing on his land, in his garden? He’d expected nosy neighbours to a degree, but letting yourself in and pulling up his plants?

The rational voice in the back of his head points out that you’re pulling up weeds, a job that he’d added to his to-do list when he’d moved in and you’re actually saving him the work is drowned out. What if he’d wanted weeds there? Give it a few more weeks and they might have produced blackberries. He grumbles at the perceived loss.

You step back and pause for a moment before reaching for a large shovel and Bucky decides that enough is enough. He’s been watching you for a good few minutes and while he can’t see your face or figure out how old you are, he trusts his instincts when they tell him that at the very least you don’t mean him any physical harm. He stalks forward and slides the glass door aside silently, stepping out into his patio. He can just about hear you muttering to yourself as you work. Definitely no assassin then.

Bucky clears his throat, waiting for you to turn around before he calls a – very sarcastic – “can I help you?” He takes a little pleasure in watching you falter when you turn to face him.

“Hi..?” you call back, a little unsteadily. Bucky watches your hand tighten around the handle of your shovel, your knuckles paling as you clutch the implement. Good. At least you’re not completely clueless then.

You’re interrupted in your work when a voice that decidedly does not belong to your elderly Spanish neighbour calls out, offering his help. You’re sweating at this point, having been turning the earth with your shovel to try to loosen up stubborn roots and so you grip the tool tighter, not wanting it to slip from your clammy palm as you greet the stranger, fighting for your breath.

The man you’re faced with is familiar to you, but you can’t quite place him… Maybe he’s Mr Garcia’s son-in-law?

“Oh, thanks! That’s really kind of you,” you respond, sweeping your hair back away from your face as you look at your surroundings, weighing up the jobs that need doing. “Are you Lucia’s husband? This pile right here could do with being moved into the corner ready to be burned if you wouldn’t mind.” You’re pleased with the prospect of a helper, and you prod at the bundle of weeds at your feet as you shoot your would-be assistant a cheesy smile. It drops from your face almost instantly when you notice that the man is glaring back at you, though he’s not moved to approach you in any way which you’re grateful for.

“Not exactly what I meant,” he responds, with almost a sneer. “Maybe what I should have said is; what are you doing in my back-yard?” He doesn’t offer any further explanation and you find yourself shrinking under his baleful stare, withdrawing into the shell that you’d worked so hard to be free of.

“This – this is Mr Garcia’s yard,” you answer quietly, your voice unintentionally rising at the end so that your statement sounds like a question. He shouldn’t have been able to hear you, but you figure the light, rippling breeze must carry your timid words better than you’d thought as he responds as though you’re standing next to him.

“Not anymore. Mr Garcia moved in with his daughter a month ago. I own the house now.”

God, he’s speaking to you like you’re a child. It’s infuriating, and you find your ire growing. Okay, so yes, it appears that technically you shouldn’t be on this property now, but you’re just trying to be helpful. It’s not like you’re causing any damage! You plant your feet and narrow your eyes at the stranger.

“That was quick,” you say with a healthy dose of suspicion rich in your voice.

He shrugs in response. “I have good lawyers.” He doesn’t offer anything more about the situation. You flounder for a moment, unsure how you can make these circumstances better, certain that you’ve seen him somewhere before, treading tentatively into a position in which you have found yourself trespassing.

It’s lucky he didn’t have a gun, the thought rockets through your mind without conscious effort, he could have shot me.

You seem to have found yourself in a stand-off, neither of you quite sure what your next move should be.

“Well…” you begin, reaching forward for your equipment to gather it into the ratty gym bag you’ve co-opted into a tool carrier. “…I’ll just get out of your hair then.” And text Lucia the second I get home, you think. You can’t believe that Mr Garcia would up and move without even offering you a goodbye. You might not be the closest neighbours, but you’d like to think you’d warrant a ‘farewell.’ Unless something happened, your conscience floats. Maybe Mr Garcia and his family wouldn’t have had thought to notify a distant neighbour and part-time gardener that they were selling if he wasn’t well. And he had been quite frail recently…

The man claiming to have bought Mr Garcia’s house watches you dispassionately as you tidy up your things and trudge to the gate. As you get closer you study him without shame – if he’s going to stare at you, you’re going to make damn well sure you stare right back – taking in the thick leather gloves that coat his hands, his firm, upright stance (a military man?) and the coldness of his shrewd blue eyes. You fight a shiver, despairing at the thought of this man seeing you in any weaker position than he already has done.

His eyes track you as you reach the gate, tugging at the latch and letting the heavy wood swing towards you as you struggle with your tools. A sudden prickling feeling at the back of your neck has your shoulders hunching defensively, and you shoot a look behind you to see that he’s moved much closer. He cocks an eyebrow as you meet his gaze and catches the gate, blocking you from the yard.

You cross the threshold, and as you take a deep inhale to give this cocky asshole a piece of your mind he beats you to it.

“Don’t come back.” The words are uttered at the back of your head before the door swings shut, rattling on its hinges and bouncing against the frame of the gate twice before it settles.

“Yes sir,” you mutter sullenly, as you hear the deadbolt slide into place with a final clunk.

Bucky’s kind of mean in this chapter! He’s just trying to protect his privacy and he’s not sure how to react to pretty trespassers. He’s trying though 💖💖

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo : parts 1-10 recapped

mickey speaks: hi this is me recapping the chapters of my story before i put out new parts, just in case any of yall forgot what happened between then and now

orrr you can (re)read the entire story here on my masterlist!!!

✤ part one : y/n and matt meet, hello kitty tattoo, they listen to frank ocean while matt works, y/n yaps and matt unwantedly listens, she tells her roomie (andrea) she thinks he's cute but wont see him again

✤ part two : they see each other at a party and talk a little, first "sunny" name call, nick invites y/n to their party

✤ part three : party at the tattoo warehouse, hot tubbing and game of drink or dare, lots of tension between matt and y/n, they kiss for a dare, erin gives matt a lap dance after slowly developing a crush on him

✤ part four : y/n and erin both graduate from UCLA and erin celebrates this with her sorority who throw a party (a lot of partying in these early chapters damn), chris has a very explicit crush on andrea, y/n and matt end up fucking by the end of the night and agree to not discuss this with anyone

✤ part five : its a month later and matt and y/n keep booty calling each other for obvious reasons, y/n uses being sick as an excuse for her friends so she and matt begin a inside joke that they're painting together instead, 4th of july happens and they all party hop as a group, she and matt agree to fuck later that night (nice!)

✤ part six : weeks have passed and matt and y/n have made a habit of hanging out before & after they fuck (almost like they enjoy being around eachother whattttt), still playfully fight and begin to tolerate any annoying attributes the other may have, go eat sandwiches, meet up with lucas (matt's drug dealer, friend, and tattoo client), y/n is outgoing to lucas and a little flirty for fun, matt tells her he's off limits, almost first confrontation about matt & erin, they have car sex because their homes are occupied, y/n and drea adopt their cat figaro

✤ part seven : andrea and y/n are invited to asha's birthday trip to hawaii in november (it's the end of july atp), this time after sex matt teaches y/n how to roll a joint, they hangout and have become comfortable enough to be cringey together and play a prank on a pizza deliverer! remi asks y/n if she'd go on a blind date with a guy her friend knows and y/n says she doesn't know

✤ part eight : days have passed, its august and the triplets' birthday, y/n made them cakes, nate threw them a house party, matt tried to have bday sex the night before but y/n holds her ground and sends him a lil pic to suffice, erin and matt hang out at the party until y/n comes over then he's all over her because he's pretty crossed, eventually lucas and y/n hang out for a little, matt is jealous and weird, they sleep together, she gives him gifts: a blunt and the panties she’s wearing for him which have his initial embroidered (sexy girl)

✤ part nine : cuddling and sweet convo but then matt is jealous and weird again, she starts to feel degraded so they argue, argument gets way too real and they aren't on speaking terms

✤ part ten : they go weeks not speaking, she hasn’t drank and won’t drink until her birthday in september, matt has gone out to bars with friends with hopes of seeing her, while out at bars he hooks up with erin one night, both desperately want to be around the other again (they’ve gotten attacheddd), y/n gets a little snappy on her friends (erin calls her a bitch in retaliation), matt finally calls her and apologizes, they hangout for an entire afternoon and night at the pier "as friends" - they are so unserious like dont make me laugh